#am spends equal time with them but lives with Fiona

[aceyanaheim]

My sister: i wouldn’t blame Liam for resenting FI leaving

Me: me either 

Me: but also ;A;

[foggyparadisecandy]

On Making Room for Good People

Life is funny and the journey can take you places you weren't expecting.

I think when we are younger and starting out, it's easy to be uncertain in many ways about the choices in front of us. I think that's natural because we haven't done a lot of stuff yet - and we don't know how the world really operates. So we can have anxiety - whether we understand it or not - and fear of "making the wrong choice" or "screwing things up".

We spend a lot of time worrying about stuff that doesn't matter in the long run and we miss out on the really big things that do matter.

It's interesting to be older now and realize I have a different perspective than my younger self - and people I love who are younger.

These days I know one of the most important things is to find people I vibe with and figure out ways to find room in my life for them.

Because people matter. And the right people matter A LOT over the course of your life.

Having someone who supports us and loves us and cares for us and will go to war for us, to protect us, to defend us, to show us how to stand up for ourselves and make a better life ... fucking irreplaceable.

Imagine finding a place for someone like that in your life and what an impact that they can make over the course of the coming years as you face new challenges and encounter new opportunities.

The funniest thing is that I know my younger self was a mess and would not have accepted that advice. lol

I was lost, hurt, angry, hating on myself, hating on others ... not intentionally. I didn't realize until recently that I grew up in a horrible, dysfunctional household - I was primed to hate myself and people please.

Ahhhhh .... either way. People make their own choices and have to figure stuff out on their own. I don't begrudge anyone their choices. I myself would not have appreciated my current self. How can I judge others?

Either way, we all make our own way in life.

It makes me happy to know that the people I love are watching out for themselves, taking care of themselves, PLANNING and HOPING for a brighter future than what they have currently in their lives.

And I'll be over here, doing my thing, and building my future. And if I can help, I would be happy to. But they have to choose to make space for me. Or not. And if they can't figure out how to fit me in to their lives, I won't take it personally. Whatever - I can't control other people. (not even with hypnosis lol)

Also true: I am no longer interested in emptying myself for others, or fretting over people who don't appreciate me.

Simple, right?

Took a lot of self-work to figure this stuff out. No matter how much I care about someone else, I refuse to accept being unappreciated.

Fiona Apple has a great line: "I don't appreciate people who don't appreciate."

(her next line is equally good: "All that loving must have been lacking something if I grew bored trying to figure you out.")

I'm fortunate because I've met a wonderful person who supports me as I support her. I love seeing her make strides forward to build a better life.

It makes me feel good to hear from her, and share ideas and strategies with her, and encourage her, and hear her encouragements of me.

Life doesn't have to be overly complicated. It's nice to be with people who appreciate and support us and we do the same for them. I will go to war for her.

I'm trying to not become addicted to her because that didn't end well last time around for me. lol

We have a strong, open communication style where we regularly share our feelings - good and bad - and have agreed to keep an eye on things.

We'll see. <3

[missusplum]

If they have a rando drug lord (Cortez) comment on Thony and Arman being together after spending 5 minutes with them, it seems like further affirmation that the writers are building towards a romantic relationship this season. Timing is always a wild card though, right? Thanks for your posts!

honestly i think that’s a very deliberate writing choice, the fact that everyone else can see there is clearly *something* between armony, even if they both keep denying or downplaying it. i don’t think it’s as much foreshadowing as it is like, the writers basically giving a nod to the audience. like a “yes we all see the chemistry and we know that you know that the chemistry is palpable.” but i guess the meaty part is figuring out if there’s more than just chemistry, and whether or not that’s enough to withstand all their differences and the pressing, often life-or-death issues in their lives. to me, it’s not even indecisiveness when it comes to them getting or not getting involved romantically, as much as it is like a very valid caution and concern. is it worth it? is this person good for me? am i good for this person? if our differences cause this to end disastrously, is taking that chance worth the risk of losing this person i value so much for good? and then there’s the added layer of like, involving yourself with this person doesn’t only affect you, but has a very high likelihood of affecting and even hurting the people you love. it’s all a mess. it’s a delicious delicious mess lol.

that’s why armony is so interesting to me and so captivating to the audience i think. with thony’s relationships with luca, fiona, and all the de la rosas, there are no questions about the depth of her love for them and what she would do for them. with her relationship with arman, it can literally go so many ways, the equal potential for them to flourish or go down in flames. the possibilities are boundless. the tension, the chemistry, the very real possibility that it won’t work out but how they keep trying to persist in the face of that. it’s seeing the many ways they fight to keep each other in their lives despite logic dictating that they shouldn’t fit. that’s the core intrigue imo.

[bazzybelle]

Magical Equality Within The World of Mages

I’ve been thinking a lot since I finished reading Any Way The Wind Blows, and there are SO many things that I still need to process. I took my time with reading it, I’ve listened to the audiobook and I plan on re-reading it several times, once I move into my new house and have THAT stress done and over with. I cannot wait to re-read it on my back porch with some iced tea and a notebook to annotate and comment on pretty much everything that gave me feelings.

But for now, there is one massive issue that I want to address, and it plays into the plot for all three books.

Warning for those who have not read Any Way The Wind Blows, this post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution. I am tagging this appropriately, but adding an extra warning just in case.

Huge thanks to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for reading this over and making sure I didn't sound like a rambling mess.

The World of Mages is an incredibly toxic place! This is especially true for anyone who isn’t a magical powerhouse, or stupid rich.

I’m going to not focus on the obvious socio-economic bullshit, because I’m not familiar enough with the British class system to properly comment on it. But if anyone wants to add onto this with a whole meta like that, please do so!

Instead, I’m going to focus on magic use and how detrimental it can be to grow up in this world if you aren’t one of the few who are blessed with the RIGHT kind of magic (I say right kind of magic for a reason, and I’m going to come back to that). I want to focus my attention on three characters (two of whom were drawn into Smith-Richard’s fake promises, and one who was just fed up with it all): Martin Bunce, Daphne Grimm, and Agatha Wellbelove.

1) Martin Bunce: We first hear about Martin Bunce in Carry On. He’s Penny’s dad, a renowned scholar and is leading a team researching the effects of the Insidious Humdrum. He’s a highly respected individual, in his own right. Penny adores him, she only speaks his praises, and I get the feeling she gets along better with Martin, then she does with Mitali. When Penny needs help with Shep’s curse, she trusts her dad to help her after her mother flat out refuses.

While Martin is respected in the community, he isn’t a magical powerhouse. In fact, he isn’t very powerful at all. Baz makes a cheeky little comment about how he must have come from mundanity with a name like “Bunce”, and he doesn’t teach any magical classes at Watford, he focuses mainly on Linguistics.

Professor Bunce is one of the people taken in by Smith-Richard’s message, and I’m kind of glad he is. It shows that Smith-Richard’s message can reach anyone, even someone as scholarly and learned as Martin. Martin Bunce is intelligent, loving, devoted, and the apple of his family’s eye. But, when push comes to shove, all that does not matter because in the end, he isn’t as magically powerful as his wife and kids. How many times has Martin been compared to his wife? How many times has he been compared to his kids? What was it like going to Watford and having to hear about how you barely scraped by in the magical classes? His whole family is obsessed with magic, his daughter's best friend is the Most Powerful Mage. Martin is constantly surrounded by people making comments about power and magic and being strong enough as a magician.

That stuff stays with you... So when you see someone performing magic that can pull you to your full potential, of COURSE you grab onto it and hope that it’s a real thing.

Something interesting to note here; Towards the end of AWTWB, Martin casts a drinking spell, and Baz makes a comment about anyone who could cast that spell in quick succession doesn’t need a power-up. Now, was Martin truly not powerful, or did he just not have the right type of magic? Could he have been a better magician if he was able to find the right situations where his magic responded better? If he was allowed to learn in a way where his magic could have reached its full potential, without the use of a horrible curse?

I have a teaching background, and I’ve worked with a lot of kids in Inclusive Education. I’ve had to differentiate practically all of my lesson plans so that all the kids in my classroom would understand the lesson and be able to reach the goals outlined for them. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve taught, but I look at stuff like this in the World of Mages and my teaching ear perks up.

2) Agatha Wellbelove: Another person who comes to mind, especially with not having the right kind of magic is Agatha Wellbelove. Agatha does not see herself as a very strong magician. She tells Simon that magic for her is like holding a muscle. Pair that up with a mother who is OBSESSED with magic and power and who’s got the most power, and which magical matches will bring about powerful children, and you get someone who becomes resentful of the whole effing thing! I’m not even going to touch the whole “dating the Chosen One” thing because that’s a whole other can of worms.

When we first meet Agatha, she’s already fed up with magic, and wants nothing to do with it, and I can’t say I blame her. She spends all of Wayward Son running away from magic, and meandering through life, being still so unsure of herself and of her place in the world. She calls herself a poor excuse for a magician, yet she manages to save both herself and Penny from the NowNext by summoning fire! That’s a huge flipping deal! Not everyone can do that, yet Agatha is able to summon the power inside herself to do so! Imagine the wonderful magic she could have done if she was taught in a way that spoke to her.

In AWTWB, she is the ONLY person who is able to get through to the Goats. Her magic seems to be connected to nature (if I had to guess). The Dryad, all the way back in Carry On, tells Simon that she and the others find Agatha “peaceful”. That’s her magic. Agatha was able to come full circle by finding peace with the magic she has. She was able to find a place for it. What’s sad is that she felt the need to run away and not want to have it in her life anymore. Her magic is beautiful, yet not enough.

3) Daphne Grimm: So, this is the character that stood out to me the most. Daphne is the reason I even wanted to write this commentary. Those of you who know me, know that I adore this character. Partly because, I’m obsessed with the idea that Baz has people looking out for him and who care about him.

Anyway, Ms. Daphne Grimm is the apple of my eye essentially. I love her, I adore her, and she is treated SO UNFAIRLY by the World of Mages.

What do we know about Daphne? She is Baz’s stepmum, and has four kids with Malcolm. From the first book, there are snarky little comments about Daphne’s lack or power and magic. Baz himself makes a shitty comment about how Daphne’s “blood is as thin as gruel”, even though Daphne goes out of her way to make sure he’s got food sent to his room. She’s extra careful in making sure Baz feels safe in his own home. She suggests to Malcolm that Baz should see a therapist for everything he’s been through, making her the ONLY parent who not only acknowledges her child’s trauma, but tries to do something about it!

She is a GOOD mom!

Ok, we know that Baz wears a ton of masks of indifference in Carry On, and he softens up tremendously in Wayward Son, calling her lovely while teaching him to drive a car.

We learn a lot about Daphne in Any Way The Wind Blows. Namely that Fiona has some pretty nasty opinions about her. (That comment about her kids not being legitimate, and that she’s as “thick headed as she is thin blooded”. Now, imagine you’re Daphne, and the widower of the Great Natasha Pitch asks to marry you. That’s already some MASSIVE shoes to fill. You accept, and you do the best you can, taking care of his son and being a positive presence in his life, meanwhile going to all these posh functions where EVERYONE talks about power and magic. Then to have the sister of your husband’s first wife make snarky comments about your level of power and magic.

That stuff sticks with you.

Daphne doesn’t want her kids going to Watford, the ONLY magical school in the UK (as far as we know). She wants her children to succeed and be known for everything they are capable of doing, instead of being ridiculed for all the ways they’ll come up short. According to Baz, the only reason Daphne graduated from Watford was because she was smart enough to pass every exam (yet, Fiona still makes snarky comments about her intelligence).

Daphne is well aware of how painful it can be to live in the World of Mages and not be a powerhouse magician. Like Martin, she takes matters into her own hands and seeks out a way to make herself more powerful.

It is heartbreaking to look at these three amazing, beloved characters, and think about the suffering they have had to endure by their peers. Both Daphne and Martin get frustrated when those around them question their choice to follow Smith-Richards, stating “you don’t know what it’s like”. Luckily for Daphne, Baz makes an effort to actually understand her, and doesn’t judge her. Even when Fiona mocks her, Baz defends his stepmum. When Daphne berates herself and compares herself to Natasha, Baz reflects on how Natasha would have killed him (something Daphne would NEVER do to any of her children).

We know that Watford did not allow magical creatures, or differently-abled magicians (I use this term for a reason) to study there until the Mage came around and allowed everyone into Watford. This was a great thing, because now, every magical child was given the opportunity to learn how to speak with magic.

However, it should not have stopped there. I spoke earlier on differentiation and on finding the right place for everyone’s magic. What if magicians like Martin, and Daphne, and Agatha are all powerful in their own right, and they just haven’t found their place where their magic fits? Instead of finding the right way to teach these magicians, they are left to struggle and ultimately resent their magic and the magic of the world around them.

Do I hear a social commentary on the state of standardized education? I can’t really comment on the British Educational System, nor the American one, as I am Canadian. What I can say, from my own experience in Canadian classrooms, is that for all the talk we do on making education inclusive, there is still a big push from higher ups for high grades and standardized testing. If any of my followers are British or American and care to share your two cents, feel free to do so. Let’s keep the conversation going!

I think this post might have gotten away from me. I think my point was to act as a defense for people like Daphne and Martin who found themselves fished into a scam all for the promise of feeling like they are enough in their world. I also wanted to defend people like Agatha, who did all she could to run away from all of it, only to find the place where she (and her magic) belonged.

I remember having this discussion on Discord, and one of the points that came up was that maybe The Greatest Threat to the World of Mages was this deeply ingrained prejudice over magicians with different sorts of magic. Magicians who need that extra bit of help to find their way.

We’ve seen in this series how these prejudices can threaten to split the World of Mages apart, and it looks like magicians like Penny, Baz, and Agatha are learning from these mistakes. Only time (and us fanfiction writers) will tell how they end up shaping their world for the future generations.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Eardrum Torture

PART THIRTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of a broken arm, lots of unintentional angst but here we are it just happened, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Application season takes its toll on Ella.

Four days. She had four days left until the applications were due, and she was about ready to rip out her hair. A Wednesday evening brought with it October wind and thick clouds. Though she had the night off, she sat wringing her hands over a scattered pile of papers at a corner table in the diner. It had been danish day, Luke rushing around to accommodate the breakfast and afternoon crowds, and the restaurant was equally packed at dinner. Ella raked her hands through her messy hair, tying it up in a ponytail and blowing loose strands from her eyes. Her nails were bitten down and she had dark circles under her eyes. The only solace was her knowing the torture would soon end. Envelopes were addressed, the stamps were bought, the essays were written, but she couldn’t manage to feel as though the applications were finished.

In all honesty, she knew there was no real reason for all the nerves. It wasn’t as though any of the colleges she was applying to were her dream schools. Financial aid could do some help, but it was simply fruitless to spend application fees on Berkley when she knew she would never be able to go anyway. Instead, the state schools and community colleges which made up her list were modest and affordable. And her father and Fiona were glad to have her able to live at home. No one would have to pick up her chores, and they could save for the wedding.

And she couldn’t bring herself to be angry with them. Disappointment was there, but she knew it was simply realistic. They couldn’t pay for the schools, and they didn’t want her to be buried in debt for the rest of her life. She could appreciate that, especially when she was likely to end up with a degree in something she wasn’t particularly passionate about. What could one do with an art degree anyway? She would settle for something stable, in business or economics, instead of starving for her hopeless dreams. Blowing out a breath, she tried to wake herself up by widening her eyes as she picked up an essay about a significant person in her life to read over for the third time. She’d actually had to write it twice, considering how illegible her cursive was in the first draft.

Rapping his knuckles on the table, Jess sat down across from her with a smirk and a plate in his hand. “Sweepin’ those chimneys nonstop, huh?”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Bite me.”

“You’re gonna give yourself a headache,” he said, holding the plate with the turkey sandwich out before her. It was nearly closing, and she still hadn’t ordered any dinner. He took the liberty of making something for her. Lately, she’d been forgetting to eat altogether.

“Well, we all have to make sacrifices sometimes,” she muttered flatly.

“Look,” Jess sighed, “just take a break for a second, alright? I’ll read it for you if you want.”

She cleared her throat in annoyance, then finally tossed a glance his way. Before she could help it, her stomach growled at the sight of the sandwich. Classic turkey was her favorite. Jess smirked, but said nothing. Ella narrowed her eyes at him and stared him down for a moment, then finally relented. They did a quick exchange, Jess with her paper and Ella with the ceramic plate.

“Thank you,” she said tiredly.

A smug smile painted his face as he began reading the essay. “You’re welcome, Stevens.”

As she ate, he read, brows furrowed in concentration. His face was indecipherable, and her stomach rolled with anxiety at him looking over her work. The sandwich was gone almost instantly, and she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Luke was making preparations for closing as the last few customers finished up their dinners. The last pot of coffee was empty, and the twinkling lights in the square illuminated the dim evening in a cozy whitish-yellow glow. She licked mayo from her thumb and wiped her mouth with a napkin, finished eating, just as Jess turned the paper over and set it back down on the table.

“So?” she asked, arms crossed over her t-shirt and an expectant look on her face.

Jess nodded. “It’s really good, Eleanor. I like it. Very descriptive. I can tell you’ve got a James Joyce obsession.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “Shut up, jackass.”

“But, really, I love it,” Jess said.

“Thank you,” she said humbly, averting her gaze with a shy blush still present.

“Did she really know June Carter Cash?” he asked.

A wide smile crossed Ella’s face. The essay, though monumentally stressful to finish, had been a joy to write. Instead of offering a more melancholy tale about her mother, she’d chosen her grandmother. Whose necklace she wore, who she had a framed photo of on her desk, and who taught her how to persevere. Though she had died before Ella was ten, the woman was still so present in her memory. Her mother had been a tender rose, but her grandmother had been a giant sunflower, standing tall. A force of nature.

“Yeah. They sang at the same club a couple times. My grandma’s stories could give Miss Patty’s a run for their money.”

“High standards to meet.”

“That they are,” she said fondly, taking the essay and straightening a stack of papers in front of her. Then, she looked back up at him with a teasing eye. In spite of herself, she picked up the essay and began skimming it again. “Aren’t you on the clock? Slacking off, are we, Mariano?”

He scoffed. “Luke let me off early, Caesar’s helping close. Time off for good behavior.”

“Not likely,” she teased, snorting a laugh, then brought her fist to cover her mouth as a yawn overtook her.

Jess felt a pang of sympathy, watching her regain her composure and blink back a watery shine from her reddish eyes. She looked positively exhausted, and he hadn’t seen her without a pencil or an essay in her hand in what felt like forever. Even when she was behind the counter at the diner; Luke was being especially lenient for application season.  

“You wanna hang out upstairs? I think there’s some Alfred Hitchcock on tonight.”

She only raised an eyebrow, gesturing down to her applications and other schoolwork.

“How many days do you have left?”

“Four.”

“And you have them all finished?”

“More or less.”

“And you can’t take a break from rereading to hang out with your boyfriend for one night?”

Ella paused for a moment, and a teasing smirk crossed her face. “Boyfriend?”

He cleared his throat and a blush crept up his neck, but he maintained the confident facade, smirking back. “Oh, am I not your boyfriend?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Just didn’t know you’d fully committed to the label.”

“Oh, I’m committed.”

“Oh. Okay,” she smiled lightly, the dimple showing in her freckled cheek. “And I’m your girlfriend?”

“I figured. Was I wrong?”

“No. No, you weren’t.”

“Good,” he said shortly, and felt a little squirmy under her teasing gaze. “Now, are we gonna go watch some ‘50s murders or not?”

Ella snorted a laugh at his embarrassment. She looked down at the stack of work doubtfully, then sighed. It was too tempting to resist. Then, she stood up and began clearing up her things.

.   .   .

Mid-way through Psycho, Jess noticed Ella’s continuous yawning and the way she struggled to keep her hazel gaze on the grayish screen. He could hear Luke closing up down in the diner, and Caesar’s music droning from the radio. But it was cozy, the October night closing in and bringing silence to the chilly town streets. There was an old quilt spread out over their laps, their hands laced together. She cleared her throat and straightened up slightly, trying to look more awake as the onscreen hunt for Marion Crane intensified. Jess sighed and took his hand from hers. Putting an arm around her, he brought her head to his shoulder and she leaned into him tiredly.

“Oh, I see, you’re doing that thing where you put your arm around me, and then you sneeze and try to grab-”

“Am not,” Jess interjected, laughing. “I should’ve never let you in on my moves.”

Ella giggled. “Right, your move.”

“Maybe I invented it. You could never be sure.”

She scoffed, smiling, and shifted to get more comfortable. He pressed a kiss to her hair and leaned back into the old couch. Even still, he looked down at her bitten nails and frowned.

“You’re gonna get into those schools, y’know,” he said softly.

Ella sighed. “Yeah, I guess there’s a good chance. I don’t want to count on anything.”

“Stevens, you have a four-point-oh. They’re lucky you’re even considering them.”

“And I’m lucky they’re cheap.”

Jess ran a hand over his mouth, nodding. “I bet you could still get a scholarship to Berkeley somehow. Or some school in some other city. I mean, you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Sleepily, she nodded. “I know, Jess. But I’ll get to live in a city someday. I’ve lived in that house for seventeen years. I can manage a couple more.”

“You could still apply, though. If you wanted,” he said.

Again, she sighed. “Really, Jess, I’m okay not applying to Berkley. I knew I’d never be able to go, it was just some stupid dream I had when Lane and Rory and I were kids and thinking about which colleges we would end up at.”

“And what rebellious kids you were,” he smirked.

Ella nudged him with an elbow. “Whatever. Southern Connecticut State is good enough for now. I’ll get some bullshit degree and a decent job, so I can have money and time to really work on my art. Someday.”

Jess hummed in acknowledgement.

“Besides, I don’t wanna leave Adam alone. My dad may be getting better, but it’s not gonna be perfect there overnight,” she explained, ending with a yawn again, behind her hand.

At that, Jess dropped the subject. He knew she needed sleep, and bringing her little brother into it would lead to a whole other conversation. Besides, it wasn’t his place to say what she should do with her life, no matter how hard it was to watch her settle, like she’d already had to do so many times.

“Okay,” he said quietly, running a hand up and down her arm.

Then, after a pause, her husky voice piped up again: “And next year you’re just gonna keep working here? And Walmart?”

“I suppose.”

“You know you’re gonna have to tell Luke about that at some point, right?”

“Well, I’m holding out as long as I can.”

She snorted a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

“Hey, you’re still sworn to secrecy,” he warned playfully.

“Yes. Cross my heart, remember?” she asked, and he nodded. Looking up to see his face in the low light, she pursed her lips. “What would you do, Jess? If you weren’t Walmart’s best employee. If you could do anything you wanted?”

There was a long silence as he thought, and she almost figured he hadn’t heard her. But then, he cast his eyes down, the movie momentarily forgotten.

“I don’t know. Maybe...write something.”

“Something?”

“Yeah. A novel. Short stories. Something. Or find some job where I could just read all day. Either one would work.”

A smile crossed her lips, turning the idea over and over in her mind. “Hm. I could see it. ‘A novel by Jess Mariano.’”

He only shrugged.

“No, really, Jess, that’d be awesome. You should do it,” she said, brightening, sitting up a little and gaining passion as she spoke, gesturing with her nail-bitten hands.

He scoffed, brows furrowing. “On what? That brand new computer I own?”

She rolled her eyes, then lowered her head back down to his shoulder. “I don’t know. You’re too smart for your own good, Mariano. I’m sure you could find a way. I just think it’d be great. If I’m owning my narrative, you have to own yours.”

Shaking his head at both her stubbornness and the memory of her spontaneous trip to New York, he kissed the crown of her head again. “Maybe.”

“Okay, chatty Kathy,” she said, scoffing at his nonchalance.

Within minutes, she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, leaving Jess to watch the reveal of Norman Bates’s mother and think on his incredibly ambiguous future.

.   .   .

Sunday afternoon customers flooded the diner. For once, Jess had broken a sweat serving them, a towel flung over his shoulder and an apron around his hips. Luke barked out directives as Caesar kept the grill sizzling, pancakes and bacon and patty melts, even as the afternoon crept in. Trudging around, Jess’s boots were heavy on his feet. Ella had the day off, and she hadn’t made an appearance. Usually, he would take breaks to flirt with her, trade her a book or two, as she poured over her homework. Instead, a random, loud family occupied her corner.

Eventually, he saw her blonde figure rushing down past the front window. Her cheeks were flushed scarlet as she came inside, her bag heavy on her shoulder. Luke only nodded and grunted at her, and she responded with an almost identical greeting. It became clearer to Jess every day why Luke and Ella had such a benevolent boss-employee dynamic. He held the steaming coffee pot in his hand as he came over to her. She hung the heavy shoulder bag and tattered peacoat by the door.

“Hey, your usual table isn’t open but if you wanna wait at the counter-”

“Can I borrow some angry music?” she interjected, a crease between her brows.

“What?”

She huffed and spoke with her hands. “I wanted to listen to some angry music but I only have sad shit, and I wanted to borrow some from Lane, but she wasn’t at her house, so I came over here because you have all that punk upstairs.”

“Um...yeah,” he said, throwing a glance back at the staircase. “It’s kinda swamped here but if you wanna go use the boombox upstairs?”

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” she nodded, breathless from her rant. Ella gave him a quick peck and, in a moment, was bounding up the stairs.

He stepped back slightly in surprise, eyes lingering on the checkered curtain she had disappeared behind. On a normal day, she would never kiss him on the lips in the middle of the busy diner. But on a normal day, her eyes weren’t so stormy.

.   .   .

Finally, mercifully, Luke let Jess take a thirty-minute break. The Distillers were turned up to head-splitting level as he entered the apartment, though they could only barely hear it downstairs under the customers’ chatter. Ella sat with one leg crossed over the other at the kitchen table, her sketchbook in front of her. She shaded a drawing furiously, not looking up as he came in. Sighing slightly, brows furrowed, he went over and turned the volume down halfway. Still, Ella gave no response. Crossing his arms over his chest, he came over beside her to regard the drawing.

Jess scoffed as he glanced down at the page. The dark lines and shading clouded the drawing of a screaming woman. Wilting flowers surrounding the face, and there was fire drawn in the figure’s pupils.

“Jesus. You draw some scary shit when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said shortly, not meeting his gaze.

“Y’know there’s a reason you’re an artist not an actress, right?” he drawled.

Ella rolled her eyes, stuffing her sketchbook into her bag and gathering herself up. Blowing out a long breath, she made to brush past him. “I’ll call you later.”

“Hey, where’s the fire?” he asked, his voice earnest as he placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “What’s the matter, Stevens?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Then what’s with the eardrum torture?”

Swallowing dryly, she scowled at him but said nothing.

“C’mon, what’s the problem?”

Sighing again through her nose, she shrugged off his hand. “Just back off, Jess, for fuck’s sake.”

Without another word, she stormed down the stairs and left him confused. He stood with his eyes dark, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, the bass vibrations of the music thudding in his chest.

.   .   .

A dusky, golden October evening fell on Stars Hollow. Jess debated just staying in after his shift ended, brooding over the Bronte book Ella had loaned him, eventually falling asleep with furious thoughts cycling through his mind. Instead, he donned his leather jacket and turned down the Gilmores’ street. The gravel crunched under his shoes and he felt his heartbeat speed up as he neared the familiar house. Tall trees lined the sides of the road, and the crisp wind rustled the orangey leaves, falling around him and in his hair. He sighed heavily, taking a crunchy leaf from the top of his head and crushed it in his hand. In all the time he’d known Ella, he’d only seen her quite so angry a couple of times. Usually, it was just a bite in her voice and the sharpness of her tongue. Storming out was a move Jess expected far more from himself than from her.

He knocked on the front door, nerves building in his stomach. And his expression dropped just a touch when it was Lorelai who came to the door, slightly out of breath and less than thrilled to see him.

“Hi,” he began lamely, glancing behind her and trying to listen for other voices. “Is Eleanor here?”

Breathing out a short sigh, Lorelai put her hands on her hips. “No.”

“...do you know where she is?” Jess asked.

“She’s at the charity book sale at the high school with Rory and Lane,” she said, after a moment of debate over just slamming the door shut in his face. And, before he could run off, she added: “And I wouldn’t go find her.”

“Why not?”

Lorelai looked down at her shoes, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Look, Bender, I know you fancy yourself her knight in shining leather-”

“Hey-”

She raised a hand to stop him, and continued with a tense tone in her voice. “But she went through a lot before you ever got here. She’s still going through a lot now. And she doesn’t need you butting in and complicating all her complications.”

“I just wanted to know what’s wrong,” he explained defensively, mirroring her guarded stance.

“And it’s not my place to let you know. She’ll tell you when she’s ready,” Lorelai said. “She broke her arm during a dance at Miss Patty’s when she was ten. And do you know how long it took for her to tell anyone how much it hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Five days. Her arm was practically a purple tree trunk by the time they got her to the hospital! And that may’ve been an extreme case, but the point stands,” she said, straightening up and softening her face just a touch. “I think I’ve only seen her cry twice in ten years. She likes to work things out on her own. And she’s just got some communication issues, like someone else I know.”

She gave Jess a pointed look and he averted his gaze self-consciously.

“I bet Ella’s told you she doesn’t believe in love.”

Sighing heavily, Jess nodded.

“But we both know that’s not true. She’s cleaned my rain gutters every week for the past few years, just because I don’t like heights. When Rory had the chickenpox, Ella came here everyday after school with a new card or drawing, and stayed over until it got dark out. She always sneaks Lane her new contraband music through this weird window dumbwaiter system they made years ago. When Miss Patty needs a piano player, Ella fills in without pay, no complaints.”

Running a hand over his mouth anxiously, he nodded again. It was times like these when his heart ached for Ella, knowing how both similar and different they were from each other. He dealt with things through anger and trouble, and she dealt with things through guilt and silence. Neither method was healthy, but Ella’s was far less outwardly destructive.

“Jess, when Ella loves someone, she loves them completely. She trusts them completely,” Lorelai continued, eyebrows raised at the young hellion. “She’ll live and die for them. But it takes her years to get there. You have to be patient.”

“Alright.”

“And if you hurt her, so help me God-”

“I know. You’ll string me up in town square to set an example?” he interjected, waving a dismissive hand.

“Something along those lines.”

“Noted. Well, I gotta go,” he said, making to leave. Lorelai only hummed in acknowledgement. Before he stepped off the porch, Jess turned back over his shoulder and muttered out a “Thanks.”

In response, Lorelai gave a tiny smile, and disappeared back into the house.

.   .   .

His collar was up against the wind, and Jess had to try three times to light his cigarette. The diner was closed up, lights off. Bluish smoke formed hazy clouds in front of him, obscuring his view of the nearly-deserted town square. The twinkle lights were shining, and a few stray cars rolled past him every now and them, their red brake lights glowing in the darkness. Everyone seemed to be in bed already, at half past nine, in preparation for the week ahead. It made him sad, thinking of how vibrant New York was at this time of night. He wondered what his mother was doing, which boyfriend she was with. And then he scoffed at himself and let her leave his mind, crushing his cigarette out beneath the toe of his boot on the sidewalk. Looking up, he saw Orion’s belt in the autumn sky. He was homesick for the first time in recent memory.

“Hey, tough guy. Thought you kicked the habit?” he heard, and looked over to find Ella, coming from the direction of Lane’s house, arms crossed to keep herself warm.

He laughed humorlessly. “The addictive personality comes and goes.”

She sighed, leaned against the front window of Luke’s next to him. Keeping a careful distance, she tried and failed to catch his eye. He looked ahead, watching as an RV, presumably a family of tourists, rolled by on the other side of the square.

“I’m sorry,” she said, running a hand through her blonde waves. Goosebumps formed on her legs beneath her tights. Darkness had brought a harsh breeze. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”

“Mm,” Jess hummed, still not meeting her gaze.

Ella sighed through her nose, looking down at her disintegrating converse. “I just got in a fight with Fiona. She keeps wanting me to call her mom, so we scream at each other, and she cries so I’m the one who ends up apologizing. And then she said she and my dad are trying for another kid.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he finally turned his head to her.

Clearing her throat, she shot a bitter smirk his way. “I know. When they’re doing so well with the ones they already have, right? Anyway...I left the house and I didn’t know what to do. So, when you saw me earlier, I was just completely in my own head and...I was angry at you for nothing. And you don’t deserve that. I’ve been so stressed and caught up lately. And I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, voice husky. And he took her cold hand in his. She closed her eyes and felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment. Swallowing down her feelings, she took a step closer to him. She hadn’t expected such easy forgiveness.

“No, it’s not okay. And you don’t have to say it is. I’m just new at this whole thing. I’m not used to...talking about anything, really, let alone everything. Most of the time, even Rory and Lane don’t know too much about what’s going on with me.”

“I know. That’s okay, honey,” he repeated, and she finally let a weak smile across her lips. Jess smiled a small smile back, and hoped she could know what he meant in so few words. As he saw her shoulders relax and surprise shine in her hazel eyes, Lorelai’s words remained in the back of his mind. Patience. He could do that. He could wait. Especially when he’d waited for her so long already.

“Thanks. For…”

“Don’t mention it,” he cut in, bringing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

“Really, Jess. I don’t think you realize how nice you are,” she doubled down, looking him straight in the eye.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the compliment, brushing it off.

Ella rolled her eyes back at his secret bashfulness and kissed him on the lips. The air was cold, but a warmth began in her stomach and spread throughout her upon feeling his touch. She stood on her tiptoes and he brought a hand to one of her hips. A moment passed between them, but  thought popped suddenly into Ella’s head and she pulled away from him.

“Hold on,” she said, turning around to rummage in her bag. Eventually, she pulled out a book with yellowed pages and a black and white cover. As she held it out to him, Jess recognized the face on the front. On Writing by Stephen King.

Raising a hesitant eyebrow, he took it and immediately turned it over to read the back.

“I know it’s Stephen King, but I saw it at the charity thing today and if you’re gonna write the great American novel— which you are—I figured you could use a little advice from one of the professionals.”

“Huh,” he chirped, his voice with a surprised lilt.

She smirked. “Trust me. Rory told me lots of her favorite authors swear by it. And since you guys both have similarly questionable tastes...”

Jess shot her a teasing glare.

“I was going to give it to you for your birthday in a few days, but you let me borrow your angry music and be a jackass to you today. I decided to make it an early present. On your actual birthday, I’ll give you something by an author you don’t despise.”

He chuckled a little and turned to her, smiling more genuinely than she expected. Bringing his arms back around her waist, he pulled her in for a tight hug and she could hear a muffled “Thank you” through the kisses he pressed to her cheek.

[rainydawgradioblog]

a covidsation with mary claire

For the first Covidsation for autumn quarter, here is an interview I did back in May with Mary Claire, my dear friend and one of my favorite local artists. Mary Claire is a singer-songwriter based here in Seattle who makes “sad girl rock” (see: Mitski, Angel Olsen, etc.). I first met them through the DIY scene and was lucky enough to book them at the finale Red Room show, a house venue I used to live at and help run. As evidenced by the picture below taken that very night, seeing Mary Claire play live is a magical, mesmerizing, captivating experience. Often accompanied with minimal, but tonally-rich instrumentals, their powerful and hauntingly stunning voice paired with visceral, poetic lyrics transport you into another realm. I *highly* recommend listening to their album Phantom Limb, which you can find on your streaming platform of choice or you can snag a physical copy at Everyday Music on the Hill like I did! Last month, they also just released an incredible stop-motion music video for their song off PL called “I Don’t Like Drinking”, directed, edited, and animated by Barb Hoffman, which you can find here! Thank you Mary Claire for these thoughtful responses and for creating such vulnerable, beautiful art <3

Lola Gil: Tell me about your project. How has it evolved? Which artists are you most inspired by? How would you describe your sound?

Mary Claire: Hi hi I’m Mary Claire. I was never someone who was playing music since they were a little kiddo, it was something I picked up my senior year of high school. But pretty much everyone in my family has some amazing and weirdly specific aptitude for music, so I think being surrounded by that kind of allowed me to gather an eclectic, personal understanding, appreciation, and internalized feeling for music, so I never really took lessons or anything like that. I enjoyed and still enjoy that from the start, I was okay with the fact that I didn’t know “academic” theory and I just played with what feels and sounds right. And I still do that. So I played around with all those youthful punk feelings and had an angsty band in high school that was not bad for small town Sacramento. I think I learned so much from that and it gave me a flood of unhindered and unhinged confidence for recording, performing, maneuvering stage mechanics and technicalities, etc. Also it introduced me into the world of songwriting that I did for that band and for myself that just immediately poured out of me, which led me to what I’m doing now. I am extremely lyrically-focused and write mostly about lived personal experience that I surrender to and make extremely overly-wordy. I went from a solo act, to a bigger full piece crunchier band, to me and a piano player, back to a solo set, so I’m really just kind of evolving with my resources, the songs I’m currently living in and playing, and with what would bring everything to life most fully. 

I’m inspired by everyone, even if I don’t necessarily sound like them or listen to them all the time. Like, my adoration for incredibly angry punk music is what got me started in the creation of my own music, so that foundation will never leave me. Even though I won’t sound like IDLES or Shame or Pissed Jeans, their point of view and their devotion to cramming so many words into one breath is a place I also come from. We execute similar feelings in different ways. And though I currently am not anything like Yves Tumor, King Krule, or FKA Twigs, the layers in their stuff sends me so far. But I think lyrically and melodically, I pull inspiration from and sink most into Mitski, Sasami, Angel Olsen, Palehound, Big Thief, Bella Porter, Darci Phenix, Fiona Apple, Sufjan Stevens, Izumi, and Weyes Blood. 

Someone once said my tunes are “sad girl rock” and I think that sticks in a fun, quick way, so that’s what I tell people. But more recently, the stuff on my upcoming album I think is like a sad, fucked up, incredibly fast-paced nursery rhyme book (lol). I’m really excited for this album I wrote, more than anything ever. Also my good friend and twin flame Francis is helping me record it and is giving me a lot of knowledge and challenges and affirmations and inspiration. I owe a lot of this second album’s production and complexity him. There are a lot more people involved in the recording of this one, so it’s a lot fuller in a new and exciting and scary way.

LG: As an artist, how have you been affected by the pandemic? I saw most of your tour you had booked was unfortunately cancelled-- are you planning on rescheduling?

MC: Rescheduling feels so completely beyond me right now, so I am just considering it to be cancelled until things in the world really start to settle down to some degree of safety and responsibility. However, the silver lining in all of this ‘rona stuff is that it has given me a ton of time to recenter myself with my music and devote my own energy into recording and feeling the core of my upcoming album. I think when the world is moving so fast, it’s easy for me to feel like I’m behind, like other people are getting shit done faster and in a more “impressive way”, in a way that matters more or has more inherent value. So when we are all forced to stay at home with ourselves, not only does it remind me that all of those insecurities are completely not real and are in fact a delusion borne from a capitalistic-productivity-equals-artistic-worth-framework, but I also get time to actually enjoy and fine tune what I otherwise might have just thrown out into the ether desperately and prematurely in hopes to be current and up to date and ~with it~.

LG: Have you been working on writing any new tunes? Have you been involved in any other creative projects recently?

MC: When I was recording Phantom Limb, I wrote the majority of my next upcoming album, so while those songs don’t feel incredibly new, there is a ton of stuff I have yet to share and that I am so eager to scream to the world. It feels like some of the stuff I am most proud of making in my entire life. 

But since I left for Berlin to study abroad last fall to when I came back to Seattle this January, I really hadn’t written anything new. I think I had been going through a lot of personal and immense change and hard growth that wasn’t particularly inspiring, it just sucked and was intense and necessary, but sometimes all that bad stuff is not something you can just make art out of. Plus I had to just do something totally different and invest and surrender to techno and being a gross city Eurotrash gremlin and let that out cathartically. But recently, I wrote my first super new song in what feels like ages, and I’m so happy. I was afraid maybe I’d forgotten how to do it, but it’s pouring out of me again and I feel like me again. I have also been working a bit back and forth with a friend from the project World Peace. We just keep sending clips back and forth and weaving our separate projects together a bit, which is something I’ve never done and I’m having a ton of fun, especially because our music is so different. Besides that, I have some plans to work with another good friend Izumi after having adored them the moment I moved here. 

LG: How have you personally been dealing with the pandemic and the craziness that is 2020? What has your quarantine experience been like so far?

MC: I went home to Sacramento for a month and watched more TV than I had probably in my entire life. It was really good to see my family and siblings who I miss so much. But I came back to Seattle in April and since then have just been spending my days in a limbo of online school weirdness. But I’m so fortunate that I live with so many people who are all so unique, all of whom I feel are my best friends. So I definitely don’t get too bored:)

LG: What music have you been listening to during quarantine? What has been your go-to isolation album?

MC: Okay to be honest, when I begin to think of my next album and what it feels like inside of me, I make one single playlist with like hours and hours of songs on it and it’s the only thing I listen to for like a year. So I’m prone to listening to the same stuff perpetually forever and always, but I think I’ve always sort of been like that. It makes the feeling familiar. But since I’ve felt close to the sounds of my upcoming album for a long while now, I’ve actually pretty much been listening to what is my ~album 3~ inspo playlist, because I already feel that beast growing inside of me. I’m a planner. 

Most of the artists on those playlists are the ones I listed above in regards to who I feel are my biggest inspirations. But right when quarantine started though I would pretty much only play Man Alive!, I would just go through the whole thing and then restart immediately. When I was in Sacramento, my family had a rule I could only play it with headphones because it was literally nonstop, that’s just how I consume things; I take a bath in them until I feel every single part of what was made. But other than that, I’ve been bumping Peter Campanelli’s Pesto Baby and crying a lot about it, Darci Phenix’s (my best bud from Sac) Juniper Street which is some of the best songwriting literally ever, and Francis Farmer’s Bruised Fruit which is SO expertly recorded and thought out, I am so lucky he is my friend and wants to record my upcoming album with me.

LG: Arethere any spring shows that you were particularly looking forward to attending that got cancelled?

MC: Pretty much all of them imaginable. 

LG: How do you think the Seattle music scene is going to be like post-COVID?

MC: Hopefully, this can recenter us and remind us we’re all really really and truly in this together. It’s up to us to lift each other up and get each other on bills and spread the word and create community for those who need it most and for those whose lives rely on this art. Seattle seems like it is really good at that on a small scale, but once it gets to a little bit larger stage, it’s easy for people to forget where they came from, who supported them, and what should be at the forefront of our radars. I think shedding this cool guy persona and getting back to why this shit is so important and listening to/PROMOTING smaller artists who are making The Best stuff is something everyone could be reminded to do. 

LG: In this funky era of social distancing, how do you think artists can support each other during these weird and difficult times? How do you think social media is facilitating and/or inhibiting connection within Seattle’s overall creative community?

MC: I think people’s ability to make what seemed like such an immediate switch to social media music promotion and shows was really amazing. However, it makes me feel a bit hopeless and dystopian and sci-fi in a weird way. That being said, trying to resist the change has only proven to be detrimental to me and kind has come back to kick me in the ass. Like, I should not be turning down opportunities just because livestreams kind of freak me out in how foreign and disconnected they can appear to be. I’m no better than them, and it’s important I think to accept things where they’re at instead of pretending they’re not happening. 

That being said, I think everyone has been maneuvering with such grace and empathy and compassion for others in a way that I can really feel, and I hope that sticks around forever. 

- Lola Gil

[renee-writer]

Pride and Prejudice Outlander Chapter 8 Weddings and More Weddings

Claire finds her mother in bed, overcome by her nerves.

“None of you will find a decent husband with Iona shaming us all.” She wails out. Her remaining daughters try to comfort her but she refuses it. Then a letter comes.

Claire steps out to find Fiona and Mary fighting over it. She takes it from them. “It is addressed to da.” She declares thus ending the argument.

They all run out when he pulls up a few minutes later. “Da, you have a letter!”

“It may be about Iona!” Mary adds to Fiona's declaration.

“Let get my breath.” He says as he takes it from Claire.

“Is she married da?”

“Let me see. Ah, she is. The Lt. has made an honest woman out of her. He only requires 100 pounds a year in her maintenance.”

“You will do it, right da?” Mary pleads.

“Of course. It is bargain. With his commission.”

“I wouldn’t take her for less the 10,000. I bet our uncle helped.” Claire whispers as they head inside.

Her mam is in raptures of joy. “A daughter married at 15! Come girls, help me get dressed, girls! I must ring the bell and tell the neighbors. A husband for my Iona.”

“But mam, he isn’t a good man.” Claire tries but no one is listening to her.

Iona and Frank Randall arrive a few days later. Iona is full of pride and herself. She spends the whole visit talking about her dear Randall, showing off her wedding ring, and telling her sisters that Glasgow is the place to find a husband. Claire attempts to speak with her but she is not listening. She is married now and thinks she is above it all.

As for Frank, he is regretting his decision. But, it gave him his commission. She is young, his wife. She is easily distracted. She will give him a heir or two. He will seek dalliances elsewhere while she raises his children. It will work out. They leave for London the next day and life returns to normal for awhile.

“Oh my, it is Lord John and the stiff one. What is his name?” Mary says from the window.

“Mr. Fraser?” Claire joins her and sees them approach.

“Oh heavens, what could they want? Geillis, fix your hair, my love. Mary Kitty, get the ribbons up. Oh my!” Their mam is all aflutter again.

She answers the knock on the door with her daughters standing behind her.

“Mrs. Anderson,” A deep bow,” I need to speak to Mr. Anderson on the matter of your daughter Geillis.”

“Oh, but of course. Come in. Geillis join your father in the study. All you other girls, back to the living room.” Claire searches for Mr. Fraser but, he isn’t with his mate. She sees him, out the window, at the end of the garden, pacing. She watches him as her mam and other sisters whisper, excitedly.

After what seems a long time, there is a scream of excitement from the study. Geillis, John, and Henry emerge.

“It seems we are to have a wedding, Mrs. Anderson.” Her husband tells her, with a smile.”

Claire is quite happy for her sister and eagerly joins in the wedding planning that takes over the day. But, her mind is also occupied with Mr. Fraser. Why hadn't he came in? When will he make an offer or will he after the way she treated him?

Late that night, there is a knock on the door. Henry, in his night shirt, surrounded by his wife and daughters, goes to answer it. To their surprise, it is the Duchess. They all curtsy and bow.

“The rest of your family, I suppose.” She says.

“Yes ma'am. All but our youngest recently married. Our eldest was just proposed to today.” Julia says with pride.

“I heard of both. I must speak to Miss Claire. It is a serious matter.”

With frowns, the hustle their other daughters out and close the door.

“I have come this way due to an unbelievable rumor I have heard. I know it cannot be true but, to satisfy myself, I must ask you.”

“What is this scandalous rumor?”

“That my nephew, James, has asked for your hand. I know it to be a lie as he has been promised to my Leery since they were both infants. There is no way he would marry into a family with a hastily fixed elopement, and only by the generosity of your uncle. It would be unheard of.”

“If you know thus to be true then why are you here?”

“I want to here it from your own lips. You will not accept nor encourage, any proposal from James.”

“I will promise no such thing. You come hers due to a rumor, insult my family, and then think I will promise you to throw away my own chance of happiness. Get out. Now.”

“Well, I have never been so insulted in all my life. It isn't to be born!”

“I suspect you will bear it well. Good night ma'am.”

She storms out and her family rejoin her.

“Dove, what was that?”

“A misunderstanding. I am back to bed.” She tells her da. But, she can’t sleep. Eventually, a bit before sunrise, she raises up and goes for a walk. It is the easiest way to clear her head.

As she walks in the field, she sees him coming. Jamie. She stops and waits. As he gets closer she says,” I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either. My aunt's visit, was that what has you restless?”

“Yes, are you promised to her daughter?”

“No. It is what she wants but not what I want.”

“Did you help fix the situation with Iona and Randall?” He has stopped a hair's breath away from her. With the sun raising, she can see his eyes.

“Aye, I saw to his commission and made sure he had a ring to give her.”

“Why?”

“The same reason I urged John to come back and make an offer to Geillis. It is all for you, you must know that.”

“Me?”

“You have bewitched me Claire, body and soul. I still and will forever love you. If your feelings for me haven't changed, tell me now. I will ne' bother you with them again. But, if they have..”

She stops him by placing her hands over his. “They are cold.”

“Aye.” They are both breathless as she lifts his hands up to her lips. “Is that a yes?”

“Aye,” they both chuckle at her horrid accent. “Yes, lets go talk to da.”

“Your father, aye.” They walk in the house, hand in hand, badly startling the just waken occupants.

“Mam, is da awake?”

“In the study. So is there to be a double wedding then?” Her eyes dance at the prospect.

“Maybe.” Her squeal follows them in.

“Da, Mr. Fraser wishes to discuss something with you.” He looks at their hands and then up to his daughters face.

“I thought you hated him.”

“I was wrong.”

“Mr. Fraser, can you give my daughter and I a minute?”

“Aye sir.” He bows and walks out.

“Claire, this is a shock. Well, he is rich enough. You will have more fine carriages then Geillis. Will that make you happy?”

“No, he does. He could be as poor as a church mouse and I would still love him, want him. Oh da, I was so wrong about him. He helped Iona.”

“How?”

“He paid Randall's commission and a bit more, I think.”

“Oh lord, I must pay him back.”

“No, he wouldn’t like you knowing. Da, we are so alike, him and I. Both strong, stubborn, but loving people. Oh da, if you could only see.” Her eyes are alight and she holds her hands to her lips as she holds back a very unladylike scream of joy.

“I do see. You love him. You really love him.”

“Oh da, I do, I really do!”

“I wouldn’t part with my Claire for anything less. Send your man in.”

“Oh da! Thank you!” She kisses him on his cheek and runs out.

“He is in the front garden. Pacing.” Geillis tells her. “I thought you hated him.”

“Well, I can be wrong, once or twice.”

“At least.” They both laugh as she runs out to find her heart.

“He said yes! Go speak to him to make the arrangements.” She greets him.

“Aye! He said aye.” She nods as tears run down her face. He lifts her up and spins her around. He then lowers her down and brushes her lips with his before heading inside. He passes his future mother-in- law, in rapturous joy.

“Three daughters married! Thank you God!”

He echoes that thanks, in his heart, as he enters the study.

“Mr. Anderson sir.” He bows.

“Mr. Fraser. Do you love my daughter?”

“I do sir. There has been naught for me since I first meet her eyes.”

“You will treat her right and stay true to her?”

“I will. You have my vow.”

“Good. Claire is special. I wouldn’t approve of any marriage for her that wasn't a love match. You may marry her. Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Just treat her right. Tell my wife if there are any lads out there for Fiona and Mary to send them in. I am quite at my leisure.”

He walks out and finds her among her sisters and mam. Unmindful of all the eyes on them, he pulls her to himself and deeply kisses her. She returns it with equal passion.

“We can do a double ceremony with John and Geillis, if that pleases?”

“Yes.” Both sisters agree.

“Grand, I will make the arrangements with John.”

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

The Zombie Trio~! 

A trio of misfit teenagers and best friends who are tired of all the bullshit in their lives and taking a stand for themselves together. They’re fierce, sassy and powerful, but also silly and love to have a good time, especially with one another and the rest of their classmates in the Hero Course. 

(From Left to Right): Ashlen Kyanse (OC), Amy Martinez (OC) and Hitoshi Shinsou (Canon)

Note: This is all fiction and part of a fanfiction that my girl @ashleigh-luvs-14cats and I collab on~!  And I felt like making TV Tropes for our group that we made in the fanfics with Shinsou~! :3 

Adorkable: The three of them are pretty quirky and dorky in ways that make them quite endearing, especially when they start singing and dancing together or taking goofy pictures and playing games with each other.

Affectionate Nickname: They give each other a LOT of cutesy nicknames.

Amy has ‘Ames’ (by both Shinsou and Ashlen), Witchy (by Ashlen) and Dummy (by Shinsou)

Ashlen has ‘Ash’ (by both Amy and Shinsou), Love (by Shinsou) and Honey (by Amy)

Shinsou has ‘Toshi’ (by both Amy and Ashlen), Tosh (by Amy) and My Heart (by Ashlen)

All of The Other Reindeer: All three of them have experienced rejection and bullying from their peers simply for being different from other people.

Amy was mocked for supposedly being ‘quirkless’ and then later when she discovers that she’s a witch, the pro-heroes felt too intimidated to care for her so they abandoned her and left her in the care of other witches. But even in America after the coven was outed to the world she was bullied by other witches for her quirky personality.

Ashlen had no friends in her school upon being moved to America and taken in by a rich family, because her peers thought she was snobby or dangerous to be around once some of her peers pretended to be her friend and discovered her second quirk.

Shinsou’s only real friend was Amy while other kids picked on him or made him a scapegoat because they called his quirk ‘villainous’ and he was ignored by his peers, who also called him a ‘future villain’ and as a result he had no other friends except for Amy.

Ambiguous Disorder: All three of them have some variety of undiagnosed mental health issues that shows up from time to time but it’s never confirmed.

Iida believes that Amy has some sort of Bipolar Disorder or Borderline Personality Disorder due to her mood swings, lashing out, risky behaviors, unstable relationships and extreme fear of abandonment. However, Amy’s inability to control her emotions and relationship difficulties and triggers that come from either certain events or certain people also highly resemble Complex Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. Although Amy also shows many signs of Depression as well since she’s had moments of self-loathing, suicidal thoughts and detaches herself from loved ones when her intrusive thoughts haunt her.

Ashlen, similarly, has several moments of anxiety, self-loathing, depression, panic attacks and overwhelming emotional reactions especially when she is triggered by her painful memories to the point where she needs her dog The Colonel for emotional support and takes medication to regulate her troubled emotions. Implying that she may have some sort of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or Depression, as she, like Amy, suffers from self-hatred and also has a poor self-image that adds to her own intrusive thoughts.

Likewise, Shinsou is prone to panic attacks, night terrors and anxiety when he’s overwhelmed, has poor sleeping patterns  (that may indicate some form of insomnia), poor coping mechanisms (eating and over-indulgence) and moments of self-loathing, intrusive and troubling thoughts, and anxiety imply that like Amy and Ashlen, he may have some type of Depression.  

Anti-Hero Team: All three of them count, while Amy and Shinsou are straight examples of anti-heroes by being selfish and/or rude troublemakers who look out mainly for themselves but still have the goal of being heroes and do occasionally do the right thing. Ashlen is more of a Classical Anti-Hero as her insecurities are the only thing holding her back rather than a compromised morality.

Badass Crew: They’re all capable of fighting villains on their own, but together they’re quite a force to be reckoned with as their classmates each dread the idea of taking on all three of them together as a crew due to Amy’s magic, Ashlen cancel quirk and Shinsou’s brainwashing.

Beauty, Brains and Brawn: Sweet and bright Ashlen is the Beauty, sarcastic and gloomy Shinsou is the Brains while impulsive and magical Amy is the Brawn.

Beware The Silly Ones: They love to joke around with others, especially people they think are stupid, but are NOT to be underestimated.

Amy embodies this trope, as she certainly looks like a harmless and ditsy girl but she’s an extremely powerful witch who can hex, jinx and curse people, and is very easily provoked.

Shinsou doesn’t look like a silly guy, but he’s pretty deadpan, witty and can easily join in Amy’s wackiness from time to time (esp. when Panic! At The Disco is involved), but he’s still a proficient fighter and knows how to brainwash people just like that especially when angry.

Ashlen is the least silly of the three as well as the nicest, but she does have a sense of humor and can joke around just as much as Amy and Shinsou, however angering her  is a very, very bad idea since she’s very good with swords and WILL paralyze your ass if you piss her off.

Birds of A Feather/Not So Different: Two introverts and an introverted extrovert, while they seem pretty opposite at first glance, the three of them actually have a LOT in common with each other.

Amy and Shinsou relate to feeling discriminated and hated by others for having ‘villainous’ powers, and they’re both equally witty and mischievous and have been friends since childhood because of this. And Amy and Ashlen are probably more different than her and Shinsou, but Ashlen has a similar sense of humor and tastes in movies, cartoons and music, as well as feelings of loneliness and isolation that enables the girls to bond. And then Ashlen and Shinsou can bond over having very practical quirks, while she’s a nicer person than he is, he gets along with her great because they’re both introverts, insecure by nature and then they also discover that they’re both pretty smart-alecky and learn to appreciate each other to the point where they start dating. 

The Caretaker: They each can act as this towards one another. Ashlen is the prime example as she often plays mother hen to both Amy and Shinsou by making sure they’re both healthy and feeling secure. Shinsou also acted as one to Amy before Ashlen by making sure the witch was feeling okay and recovering from an incident. But he can also easily take care of Ashlen, especially when she is suffering from a panic attack or is in need of comfort. And while Amy is usually being cared for by either Shinsou or Ashlen, she can still play the role just as well by checking up on either one, whether it’s consoling Shinsou when he’s upset, or spending time with Ashlen and comforting her when she’s sad or overwhelmed.

Color-Coded Characters: They each have their own different colors schemes, Amy (Pink), Ashlen (Blue) and Shinsou (Purple).

Comic Trio: Downplayed due to Shinsou and Ashlen being far more level-headed than Amy.

Amy is usually the schemer who comes up with the crazy ideas, Shinsou isn’t a Fool by any means but nonetheless tends to follow Amy’s lead because he thinks it’ll be hilarious, while Ashlen plays the Only Sane Man and attempts (but usually fails) at reigning the two of them in.

Dance Battler: They’re all quite proficient in dancing.

Amy is the only one who hasn’t had any professional training in dancing, but she learns how to be quite good at it by watching videos and is good at physical comedy and making funny faces to make her dancing very entertaining and impossible to not watch. Although she does later get lessons so she can dance with Bakugo. 

Ashlen is the only one of three to be considered a dancer as she has had professional training and is highly skilled in ballet, waltzing, salsa and other forms of dance, is very flexible and can also perform some very impressive flips, pirouettes and spins that make her a marvel to watch and she also can utilize some dance moves in combat.

Shinsou had to take dance lessons for a school play during the second Culture Festival, as he had no real training in dancing and merely danced along with Amy but also learned watching some videos, especially ones with Yanis Marshall and gradually became a skilled dancer.

Dark and Troubled Past: They all carry some emotional baggage from their pasts, which actually enables them to bond because they all agree that they’re each ‘pretty fucked up’.

Amy was discriminated against because she was believed to be quirkless as her powers didn’t start manifesting until she was 9 years old. When she found out her witch heritage, hunters emerged from the shadows and killed her parents by burning her mother and lynching her father, while the pro-heroes saved her from getting killed they gave her away to Fiona to live at the coven in New Orleans, which forced Amy to leave Shinsou. The coven was small but very dysfunctional under Fiona’s neglectful care and undermining Cordelia as Amy tried and failed to have her sisters get along. And then Amy witnessed several murders, bloodshed and betrayal that traumatized her into the hardened but unstable girl she is today and she still has anger and abandonment issues.

Ashlen had a normal and happy life complete with an ordinary but useful quirk, but All For One arrived one fateful night and murdered her parents right before her eyes and then implanted her second quirk in her which was extremely painful and nearly killed her. Although the Sennen family adopted her, she was ostracized by her peers  at school who either thought she was a monster due to her second quirk or believed her to be snobby and entitled due to her family namesake. Then what friends she did made turned out to be fake who only used her in an attempt to make themselves look better. As a result, Ashlen grew up reserved, distrusting of others and fearful of herself due to her unstable powers and still suffers from self-esteem issues and a guilt complex.

Shinsou came from a normal family, but because of his brainwashing quirk he also faced some discrimination as his peers and even some teachers deemed it a ‘villainous quirk’ which diminished his self-esteem especially when students either bullied him or when his classmates deliberately ignored him and pretended he didn’t exist. While he had Amy to make it better, her leaving made him feel more alone than before. Without his only friend, he became much colder and more distant, which made him an easier target. In middle school, he acted out times by brainwashing two bullies into beating each other up, while he mellowed out in the 9th grade, he became much more cynical and aloof, having no desire to make friends until Amy returned in his life.

Dysfunction Junction: Despite getting along really well, they’re not immune to bickering, especially Amy and Shinsou, with Ashlen having to play the peacekeeper and break them up. And then Shinsou often acts as Amy’s enabler and lets her do anything she wants (much to Ashlen’s disapproval), particularly when the witch is in a bad mood with Ashlen uncertain of how to approach her and vice-versa, Amy can easily enable Shinsou when he’s in a bad mood. At times the three end up walking on eggshells around each other when things get tense. Which is ultimately why Amy says they’re more like family than a mere friendship because they actually deal with important things beyond school.

Exhausted Eyebags: All three of them sport them from time to time. Shinsou’s are almost always prominent, but Amy and Ashlen’s eyebags show when they’re overwhelmed or anxious. Although Amy’s are also more prominent when she’s angry or in a foul mood. In fact, this trait is also partially why they called themselves ‘The Zombie Trio’.

Fighter, Mage, Thief: Ashlen is the (Fighter) due to her swordsmanship, expert combat skills and speed she utilizes for her Cancel quirk and she’s the one who’s mostly on the straight and narrow. Amy is the (Mage) as she’s a witch with several powers and can use 6 of the 7 wonders that she uses any chance needed. And Shinsou is the (Thief), having to rely on being manipulative and sneaky for his Brainwashing quirk to work and allow him to trick and deceive opponents.

Fruedian Trio:

Amy is the emotional, reckless and borderline psychotic Id

Ashlen is the calm, collected and grounded Ego

Shinsou is the logical, deadpan and pragmatic Superego

Gasshole: They sometimes casually engage in burping contests between each other, especially Amy and Shinsou, joined by Kaminari and Kirishima, with Amy and Shinsou being quite proficient in the ‘art of burping’. But to their surprise, Ashlen herself can belt out some fairly impressive, unladylike belches when she loosens up and plays around with them.

Amy: YAY! Ash! You’re as nasty as we are!

Good Is Not Soft: Amy and Shinsou are trouble-makers but also training to be heroes and Ashlen is the nicest of the three, but neither three of them are pushovers and have no issue roughing up villains or playing dirty if needed.

Good Parents: They each have some pretty decent and upright parental figures in their lives.

While Amy had an Abusive Parent in Fiona, Cordelia is Amy’s godmother  who loves her unconditionally although she is prone to spoiling her too. But she never stops looking out for her and is very supportive of her. Amy’s biological mother and father were very loving towards her and comforted her in their final moments.

Shinsou’s mother and father support and love him and always express pride in their son for getting himself in the Hero Course. They’re also Good Parents to Amy, despite her not being their biological child.

Ashlen’s biological mother and father were great parents who adored their daughter, and Ashlen’s parental figures that include her sisters and adoptive father also love her dearly and look out for her.

Heartbreak and Ice Cream: Their go-to whenever one of them is extremely depressed and upset, as Amy shamelessly drinks soda and binge-eats cookies, chocolate, candy and ice cream when she’s sad, and then she has no issue sharing her sweets with Ashlen and Shinsou. Ashlen, a sweet tooth herself sometimes may have a soda and some sweets when she’s sad, and even Shinsou has no shame in eating cookies and ice cream when he’s upset or heartbroken.

In-Series Nickname: Bakugo has nicknames for each of them, calling Amy ‘Witch Bitch’, Shinsou ‘Eyebags’ and Ashlen ‘Princess’.

Likewise, Madison tends to call Amy ‘Hermione’, Shinsou ‘Purplehead’ and Ashlen ‘Ellen Ripley’.

Interclass Friendship: A variation as each of them come from a unique background that doesn’t at all affect their friendship.

Amy, while she used to come from a normal upper middle-class family with a mother who was both a witch and a hero, she later had to move with the coven, an independent group of socialites and politically active witches who descended from Salem. Whom are also warriors who act as allies for hero society and Amy being something of an upper-class socialite and witch warrior.

Ashlen also came from a pretty normal upper-middle class family, but she was taken in by the Sennen family. A royal family  that dates back to the ancient times of the pharaohs and is connected with Magic and spirit energy lead by two powerful women and Ashlen’s adoptive sisters and royal-like figures. Making Ashlen a princess of sorts, but she’s still  a fighter from a high class family.

Shinsou is the only one who comes from a relatively normal family with his parents having modest occupations and his father being a doctor rather than a hero, so his family makes good enough money for Shinsou to be considered upper middle class but unlike Amy and Ashlen, his family has no connections.

Kiddie Kid: In a way, all three of them oscillate between endearing acting-their-age childishness and adult-like maturity. Although it’s Played Straight with Amy, Downplayed with Shinsou and Ashlen.

Amy’s pretty impulsive and immature, even enjoying things that would probably be more suited for pre-teens (toys, cute things, etc.) and still likes playing childish games like Hide and Seek and Tag You’re It.

Shinsou, despite being more mature than Amy, laughs at some of her childish jokes, isn’t above playing along with her games (especially Tag) and can sometimes be just as immature (if not more so) as Amy. 

Ashlen is actually the most mature of the three, but she can also loosen up enough to play around and fun with Amy and she enjoys the same cute things and toys that Amy likes.

Lame Comeback: Amy, Ashlen and Shinsou are usually pretty witty but when they’re too angry they usually make some lame remarks when they’re too upset to think of anything good.  

Like An Old Married Couple: At times the three resemble a family, with Ashlen being ‘The Mommy’ of the group, Shinsou being ‘The Daddy’ and Amy being ‘the Child’. Shinsou often enables Amy’s antics, but knows how to dish out Toguh Love when needed, and Ashlen, although nurturing and loving, encourages Shinsou to not be so lenient on Amy, their hyperactive, mischievous best friend. It’s even more prominent when Shinsou and Ashlen are discussing and/or arguing about Amy’s behavior as if they were parents talking about their child and even dote on her at times. Likewise, Amy at times can cling to either Ashlen or Shinsou if they were a mom and dad, and also going to Shinsou when she wants something from him, and Ashlen when in need for emotional support. 

Like Brother and Sister: Amy and Shinsou are very much like brother and sister, and Amy considers Ashlen like a sister to her and all three of them function together like a family.

Living Emotional Crutch: All three of them function as this to each other in some way.

Amy says that Shinsou’s the only reason she came back to Japan and doesn’t know what she’d do without him as she suffers an emotional breakdown at the thought of not having him in her life because he was her first ally from the very beginning and best friend from the start. However, because she cares about him so much she nearly cuts off ties with him again just to protect him from her. And as she befriends Ashlen, she admits to feeling closer to her than anyone she’s ever met, feels comfortable around her but also greatly fears her leaving her the most which is why she had another mental breakdown at the thought and went back to her mansion for a time, and then she confesses that she probably would have gone on another homicidal rage if not for Ashlen’s influence.

Shinsou feels closest to Amy overall since she was his very first friend the best friend he’s ever had, and when she left to New Orleans, he took it badly and broke down hard, becoming more distant from others. And he nearly breaks down when Amy lied by saying she didn’t want to be his friend anymore after she went on a rampage at UA. He also at times clings to Amy because he knows that no matter what, she’ll always support him. Also, as Ashlen enters the picture, because she’s the first person to ever show him any true, intimate love he feels especially close to her, adores her and takes any argument they have hard and admits that while she’s his first and only girlfriend, that he couldn’t love another woman the way he loves her, because she’s the only one who can make him feel loved and secure. 

Upon meeting Amy, Ashlen loves her very much and sees her as her very best friend and a true friend, even nurtures her because she grew to love her so much. Even as Amy starts to show her true colors and deeper psychological issues, Ashlen’s love doesn’t fade, but she does fear the thought of losing Amy more than anything, and at one point pleaded with her not to leave her alone without a best friend. Finally, when she finds love in Shinsou, she feels safe, warm and loved by him, and not unlike him, takes their arguments extremely hard, even taking all the blame because she fears losing him just as much due to her unconditional love for him. 

Nice, Mean and In-between: Ashlen (Nice), Shinsou(Mean) and Amy (In-between). However Shinsou and Amy can switch the roles where Amy is acting as the crueler one and Shinsou can be more laid-back and decent, but Ashlen is almost always the Nice on.

Odd Friendship: These three make up a pretty odd but nonetheless very close friendship.

First you have Amy and Shinsou, a chaotic girl with energy for days and a low-key, apathetic guy who doesn’t care about much things, but they’re best friends and have been since childhood.

Then Amy meets Ashlen, a sweet but shy girl who became very close and best friends with the much more outgoing and obnoxious Amy.

Then there’s Ashlen and Shinsou, she’s much more of a sunshiny optimist while Shinsou’s more of a cynical pessimist.

Positive Friend Influence: When they’re not being bad influences or doing mischievous pranks, each make each other happier and better people overall.

For Amy, Shinsou reminds her of her humanity and all other better memories before the coven. Shinsou also can at times be able to reign her in when she’s upset, and enables her to think before she acts. And then Ashlen’s influence is what allows Amy to be much more reasonable and gentler, as her friendship helps Amy learn more lessons in being kinder to people and to forgive the people she felt hurt by.

For Ashlen, having an outgoing and supportive friend like Amy made her much more confident in herself, allowing her to be more assertive, proud of who she is, and she also learns to see her own beauty and even gains a newfound wild side. Likewise, Shinsou encourages her to loosen up a little bit and his endless attraction and devotion to her also adds to her confidence and boosts her self-image.

For Shinsou, Amy’s fun-loving and cheerful personality makes him laugh and allows him to have fun and get a little bit goofy as he humors her and can join in on her antics without letting life overwhelm him. And then having Ashlen as his friend and girlfriend makes him want to be more compassionate and he also learns to be less envious of others, more secure in himself and she also helps him boost his own self-image as well. 

Power Trio: Together they’re a ridiculously powerful group of fighters who are even stronger together.

Ragtag Bunch of Misfits: They’re a group of friends made up of a witch, a trained fighter and a world-weary cynic trying to become heroes. Together the trio consists of.

A loud-mouthed, hyperactive Cute Witch who grew up in an infamous coven of powerful witches. Who happens to have a wide array of powers and is a little bit unstable to boot.

A skilled but troubled Warrior Princess with two quirks, one being highly unstable and dangerous. But she still has a strong sense of justice even if people haven’t been kind to her.

A curt and surly Deadpan Snarker with the power of Mind Manipulation and a less than approachable demeanor. However, he still wants to do the right thing, even if he is a bit of a Troll too.

Red Baron:

Amy: “The Coven Heroine: Tricky Witch”

Ashlen: “The Neutralizer”

Shinsou: “Mindjack”

Red Oni Blue Oni: Amy is the Red Oni to both Ashlen and Shinsou’s Blue Oni, although Ashlen can also be the Red Oni to Shinsou’s Blue Oni.

Serious Business: Four Words: Panic! At The Disco. Amy and Shinsou take Brendon Urie very seriously and take any ill remark against him as blasphemy and they manage to get Ashlen on the bandwagon.

Socially Awkward Hero: They’re all pretty socially awkward in their own ways.

Amy is overwhelmingly cheerful and over-the-top for most people, vulgar in speech, has no sense of personal space (as she constantly touches and hugs other people randomly) and usually unintentionally makes people uncomfortable by talking about inappropriate things that really shouldn’t be discussed in public, but she is generally friendly and does mean well.

Ashlen has the best social skills out of the three, but is still pretty shy, awkward by nature, prone to social anxiety, and gets nervous around people she doesn’t know, and is also easily flustered around boys she likes.

Shinsou is aloof, rude and snarky, and doesn’t go out of his way to befriend anyone except Amy, but is also pretty awkward when someone is being genuinely nice to him, and then he gets extremely nervous and flustered around Ashlen, to the point where he resembles Midoriya when he speaks to her.

Superpowered Evil Side: All three of them have superpowered sides or experienced power highs that enabled them to go berserk, lose control of their powers and even made them turn homicidal, even towards allies.

Amy’s Sentio Compassios can turn into Sentio Furia when greatly provoked. Already legitimately insane, she easily gets drunk on her magic and loves toying with her opponents, and when she’s that angry she freely lets go of all control during a rampage to unleash her power and destroy almost everything and anybody in her path, friend or foe.

Ashlen’s second quirk Dark Manifest is what makes her go berserk, even though she’s level-headed by nature. she has issues controlling her second quirk as when she’s pushed to the brink, it causes Dark Manifest to overwhelm her right mind and turns her into a bloodthirsty murderer and makes her lose her morality and kill whoever provoked her and anyone else who she feels like purely for fun.

Shinsou developed an alter-ego that Amy calls ‘Control Freak’. He wanted to get stronger and took up a training session with Amy’s friend Nan, and she and Madison give him a potion to amplify his brainwashing to make it more like Concilium. However, as his quirk’s power was amplified, the potion cost him his sanity and he lost himself momentarily and attacked even his friends and forced them to fight each other because the power high gave him an overwhelming sense of control over everyone regardless of who got seriously hurt..

Sweet Tooth: Amy is the most obvious one with a sweet tooth, but Ashlen also very much enjoys sweets and while Shinsou says he doesn’t love sweets, he’ll still eat them, especially when upset.

Token Trio:  Amy (witch), Ashlen (two quirks) and Shinsou (single quirk)

Toxic Friend Influence: Downplayed, at least with Ashlen. Amy and Shinsou are toxic friend influences to each other to begin with and bring out each other’s bitchy side, but they can also sometimes be able to encourage Ashlen to indulge in wild and crazy antics such as drinking Amy’s infamous Magic Juice at a party or pulling hilarious pranks on other classmates.

!Tres Amigos!: Duh.

True Companions: They all came together recently, with Amy and Shinsou being Childhood Friends and later meeting Ashlen, but the three of them are very close, tight-knit, love each other’s company, comfort each other when upset and always support each other and have each other’s back no matter what.

Two Girls And A Guy: Amy and Ashlen are both girls with Shinsou as the sole guy of the trio.

Underestimating Badassery: Since Amy and Shinsou often bicker or make crude jokes with Ashlen having to look after them like a babysitter, people often take them at face value... until all three of them start beating the living hell out of villains and showing just how powerful they are.

Weirdness Magnet: They’ve all been exposed and/or attracted to some of the craziest supernatural things that are weird even by hero society standards.

Amy, being a witch, gets exposed to all types of weird and magical happenings with witches, vampires, demons, ghosts, a minotaur, voodoo queens and the Anti-Christ so she claims ‘nothing shocks her’.

Ashlen’s family actually overlooks several different supernatural things that include ghosts and demons, and so Ashlen is no stranger to the supernatural and is unsurprised by stranger things.

And because Shinsou’s close to Amy and Madison, he knows many things about witches and has become less and less fazed when something strange happens.

With a Friend and a Stranger: The whole set-up of the dynamic with Amy and Shinsou being childhood friends and Ashlen being Amy’s new friend who instantly gets along with Shinsou, and later, becomes his girlfriend. Unlike many examples though, these three are NOT a love-triangle, but DO involve one or two different love triangles OUTSIDE of the the trio.

You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry: Angering either three of them equals big trouble.

Amy is very easy to provoke and she’s The Dreaded in her class for a reason as she will start screaming, destroying things and fly into a rage if angered. And should you push a major button, it was nice knowing you.

Ashlen is actually quite slow to anger, but when she’s angry she gives a fierce glare and ALWAYS delivers righteous punishment to the one who angers her. And this is scary even when her second quirk isn’t awoken yet...

Shinsou is usually pretty levelheaded but when he gets upset, he gets upset, becoming both irrational and aggressive as he will attack the person who pissed him off, and play dirty as well just to let them feel pain.

[roxyaddams]

Shrekstuck- A Shrek Homestuck AU

(I'm aware of how terrible this)

Okay so:

Character info!

• Fiona- Pieces (fushia blood), heiress, Knight of Life, Prospit. Shrek's matesprite. During the day, she transforms into her god teir form. (Her dream self died on the quest bed thing, like what happened with Aradia, exceot Prospit wasnt destroyed. It is unknown how her dream self died.) She uses throwing knives. Land of Rays and Fear.

• Shrek- Cancer (mutated lime blood, bottom of hemocaste), Lord of Heart, Derse. Fiona's matesprite. Shrek uses a mace. Land of Bog and Self.

• Donkey- Shrek's lusus. Eventually becomes Donkeysprite. He has the ability of speech, and others besides shrek can understand him. Dragon/Dragonsprite's matesprite (can lususi have matesprites?????? Unsure but i dont care. This is a shrek au, why are you expecting logic)

• Charming- Scorpio (Blue Blood), Derse, Prince of Time. Shrek's kismesis. Charming uses a wand given to him by fairy godmother as his weapon. Land of Oil and Waves.

• Dragon- Fiona's lusus. Eventually becomes Dragonsprite.

• Arthur- Fiona's morail, trans, Jade blood, Sylph of Hope, Prospit. Lusus died when he was little. He uses a rapier. Land of Mist and Lakes.

• Fairy Godmother- Was Charming's friend, but then died. Later becomes Fairy Godsprite

• Merlin- Sorta a parental figure to Arthur, took him in after his lusus died. Becomes Merlinsprite

Plot under the cut (if there is one bc tumblr mobile is mean)

[[MORE]]

Shrek is a mutated limeblood, and as a result, is meant to be culled on sight. To prevent the grub from being culled, his lusus, Donkey, took him to a swamp, where the imperial drones would not look. Donkey is not a normal lusus, and while he does his best to care for Shrek, he is very immature. So, most of the time Shrek was forced to hunt for food, and fight against swampbeasts to survive.

Just after Shrek turns 5 sweeps old, he is awoken to the sounds of voices outside. He ignores Donkey, and looks outside. At least 100 highbloods had set up camps in the swamp.

The antisocial troll storms out of his home, and yells, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT MY HIVE?"

An teal blooded grub approached the troll, and explained that a rust blood, who goes by the name of Lord Farquaad, had killed the Condense and taken the throne.

He had exiled all the highblooded trolls, and sent them to the swamp. Shrek would like for everyone to screw off, and so he and his lusus begin travelling towards the Conden- Lord Farquaad's palace.

When he arrives, the outside is barren. He goes into the castle however, and finds Lord Farquaad sitting on a throne, a line of several low bloods standing before him. Shrek sees an array of colorful blood splattered upon the walls.

"The one who brings back the hieress shall be compensated greatly," Farquaad tells the trolls.

Heiress? Why does he need her?

Shrek dismisses the thought as quickly as it came. He marches forward. "Excuse me? Are you Farquaad?"

Farquaad tilts his head in confusion. "I am. And you are?"

Shrek pauses for a moment. With the hemocaste in disarray, and a lowblood in power, he doesn't have to worry about people finding out his name. He enjoys this moment of relief, before reminding himself he is here to get his life back.

He shrugs. "I'm Shrek. And you have sent all the highbloods to live right outside my hive, and I want my swamp back!"

Farquaad was silent for a few seconds, then spoke, "Shrek, was it? I have a deal for you. If you retrieve the heiress and bring her to me, I will relocate the highbloods."

"And I can go back to the way it was before?" Shrek questioned, considering the offer.

"Down to the last slime-covered toadstool." The rustblood replied.

"Fine. I'll go find the heiress and bring her here."

*cue traveling montage of Shrek and Donkey until they reach the castle*

Shrek dons a nearby suit of armor, not knowing what to expect from the heiress.

Donkey and Shrek get separated, and Donkey encounters Fiona's lusus, Dragon. Dragon is infatuated with Donkey, and Shrek climbs to the highest room of the tallest tower.

There, he meets Fiona, the heiress to the throne.

Meanwhile, Farquaad is busy plotting. He plans to ask the heiress to be his matesprite, and announce it publicly to consolidate his power. Soon after, he would kill her, and pin it on another rustblood, leaving him as the emperor of Alternia.

Shrek and Fiona get down to the first floor of the castle. When they hear Dragon, Shrek ushers Fiona out of the castle, and he then goes to best the monstrous lusus.

(this part happens pretty much exactly how it goes down in the movie)

Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey begin their journey to Lord Farquaad's castle. Shrek and Fiona slowly become friends, and Shrek thinks he may be flushed for her.

When they are attacked by a few anarchist lowbloods, Fiona finds out Shrek's blood color. However, it does not bother her like Shrek had feared.

During the days, Donkey and Shrek set up camp while Fiona makes her own, not wanting to be near the others during the day.

On the last day of their journey, Shrek decides he is going to confess to Fiona. Meanwhile, Donkey hears some strange noises coming from Fiona's camp. He bursts in and sees her in her god tier form. He is initially confused, but she explains, saying she believes it to be some sort of mutation. She says that she believes it will be cured when she finds her matesprite. (She believes in magic) Shrek shows up and is outside Fiona's camp, and overhears her say, "But who could ever be flushed with such a disgusting mutant?"

Heartbroken and betrayed, Shrek goes to Farquaad's castle, and feturns at nightfall with Farquaad and his guard.

(The whole scene here goes down pretty similar to how it does in the movie)

Shrek storms off without Donkey, stating that Donkey never did much for him anyways.

Shrek returns to his hive, where all the highbloods have been removed.

(Cue the whole hallelujah sequence, except w/o wedding stuff)

Dragon breaks free, and finds Donkey. Shrek and Donkey reconcile, and then go to Lord Farquaad's castle.

Shrek bursts in and professes his flushed feelings for Fiona. Fiona is quiet for a few moments, and goes over to him. Farquaad is shocked, "Don't tell me you actually have feelings for that mutant!"

As he orders his guards to take Shrek away, the sun rises, and Fiona transforms into her god teir form.

Farquaad orders his soldiers to kill the mutants when Dragon shows up and eats Farquaad.

Everyone celebrates the fact that they just staged a coup. Fiona takes her place as Empress, and abolishes the whole hemocaste system, and stops all the culling.

Things begin to improve, and Shrek and Fiona are now matesprites. And they all lived happily ever after.

Until one sweep later.

With equality between the trolls, everything has seemed much better on Alternia. Most of the time, Fiona does not have to do much as Empress, and instead spends her time helping others. One day, her childhood friends (who she only talked to online) Arthur and Charming ask her if she and Shrek want to play a game that Charming found called Sgrub. Fiona and Shrek agree. None of the teens are aware of what this desicion shall bring.

Shrek enters the game first, with Fiona as his coplayer. Donkey is killed by a nearby meteor, but Shrek is able to revive him by prototyping him with his kernelsprite. He enters the Land of Twilight and Mask. His quest is to awaken the mask.

Fiona enters the game after him, Charming as her coplayer. Dragon died about half a sweep before, and Fiona prototyped the skull of the lusus. Fiona entered the Land of Rays and Fear. Here, Fiona is unable to contact anyone, and Charming can only see her, but is unable to message her at all. Her quest is to revive the dawn.

Charming enters the game next, with Arthur as his coplayer. He prototyped the ashes of his friend from when he was younger, and she becomes Fairy Godsprite. He enters the Land of Oil and Waves. His quest is to learn the waves.

Arthur is the last to enter the game, with Shrek as his coplayer. As a grub, Arthur's lusus died, and he was taken in by an older troll named Merlin. Right before Arthur entered the game, Merlin prototyped himself. Arthur enters the Land of Mist and Lakes. His quest is to release the tides.

When Fiona enters the game, she is fully god teir. The first to ascend to god teir after her was Shrek. He was injured by a Dersian named Puss. Shrek made it to his quest bed, where he collapsed and died, and then ascended to god teir.

Charming and Arthur both finished their quests early on in the session. Charming ascended to god teir before Arthur, by doing the deed himself. He then traveled to the Land of Mist and Lakes and "helped" Arthur ascend to god teir.

It took Shrek and Fiona much longer to complete their quests. Fiona completes hers last, restoring life to the planet, and clearing the sky in order to revive the dawn.

They all travel to Skaia, where they battle the Black King.

(Insert battle here)

They defeat him, and claim the ultimate prize.

(Also I'm aware that there isn't a space player, but I didn't think it really worked with any of the characters so I'm just going to say that the game provided them with a frog.)

Okay now it is done. I'm so fucking sorry for making this yall.

[diningpageantry]

Unveil

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343617/chapters/41439146

Chapter 8/11 of Of Wealth and Leisure

Word Count: 4213

Summary: Unspoken secrets of the past come into focus, leading to the only known clue in the murder of Mrs. Pitch. Their lead reveals something much darker than expected.

“So, you’ve been getting along awfully well with Mr. Pitch,” Ebb says, speaking more into the room than towards me. Sparks burst out from under the log as she prods it with a poker, adding another into the flames.

I feel guilty for shivering only moments ago, which prompted her to fuss completely and add to the fire. The late December air drifts through her weakly sealed windows and door, leaving the poor woman to live within layers upon layers of clothing. At times throughout the last month or so, I’ve been subtly sneaking her extra clothes; an old, ill-fitting jacket I’d forgotten about, a pair of thick cotton trousers. She dotes upon me, ruffling my hair as if I were a child and saying that I’m too good to be in such a dark household.

She’s not particularly wrong in her statement; I have been growing particularly close with Mr. Pitch, or Baz, as I call him privately. We’re not joined at the hip, exactly, but the threatening air between us has shifted dynamics entirely. Instead, we now spend afternoons reading through old trade documents and family records books, attempting to find recurring names. Some have stuck out, but all fall flat eventually.

He’d shared with me his anxieties over his title; the heir to both wealths and the power structures in play. We’d gotten drunk one night, weeks into his recovery, and laid sprawled out upon the Moroccan rug of his bedroom floor. He had told me, in a long winded speech, that he’s as equally fearful of his allies as compared to his enemies, as neither are predictable.

When I rested my hand upon his shoulder and lolled my head to the side, asking him whether or not he trusted me, he took a long moment's pause before closing his eyes. “Yes,” he mumbled at last, settling my ruffled edges with his liquor-smooth voice. “If you’d have killed me, you would have left me with my injury and fled.”

I had no other words for him, hand lifting up and tracing down his nose.

He let me brush my hands upon his bared skin that night, curious to feel the curves of his wrists and dipping slope between his chin and Adam’s apple. In silence, he sat and observed my delicate movements up until I’d settled my index finger on his lips. In fear, I’d retracted back and rolled to face the ceiling again before distracting myself with talk of my interactions with wealth.

Such events haven’t been uncommon between us since. An unspoken intimacy of grazing touches coupled with long, extended moments of staring. I think it’s grown into a competition; who can breakdown first, crumbling into a newly directed conversation to avoid whatever’s at hand.

Whatever is at hand? It’s been gnawing at me, making a home inside the carved out part of my brain where my usual thoughts once occupied and endlessly pestering my conscious mind. Agatha’s words ring clear in my ears every time I make Baz smile, even if just with a poorly said tease.

“Do you fancy Mr. Pitch?” Do I? Surely, I’m overthinking such statement. Although, it’s rare for me to think over something so tediously at all. Not being one much for thinking, it’s bitterly unfair that the only thing I can think about is the state of my attractions. For the sake of myself, and for the fear of a truthful answer, I allow a single repeat of the word “No” to filter through my mind as I stare at his stone-grey eyes.

I do not believe I fancy Mr. Pitch.

If anything, I’m unsure if we’re truly friends. I believe we endure each other’s company in order to make my time here more bearable, as compared to slicing each other to shreds. At least, that must be his perspective--I would not refuse to call Baz a friend, but I doubt he would share the same sentiments.

“We’ve been working together, yes,” I say into my mug, feeling the steam dampen my nose as I tip it up for a taste. It’s only a few degrees off from scorching me.

Ebb turns her head and looks over me curiously as she closes the fireplace curtain. “Working? That’s an interesting word, ‘innit?”

“No,” I retort quickly, blinking before backtracking. “Well--no. Maybe. Perhaps without context…”

“And what context is that?” she prompts, still staring at me quizzically as she draws back her seat, resting across from me.

As per impulse, I shrug while hearing remnants of Baz’s voice in the back of my mind, mocking me for doing so. “I’m trying to help him with finding his mother’s killer. It clearly haunts him, and I’m curious as to solving it.” My fingertips feel down the teacup, pressing against the clay ridges and inconsistencies. “You don’t happen to know anything about that day, do you?”

Ebb swallows visibly as I speak, eyes downcasting as I finish. While I’d say it’s suspicious, I remind myself that it is Ebb. She would never hurt a beetle, let alone have any part in the murder of Natasha Pitch.

With that aside, her voice drips with guilt as she speaks. In her typical fashion, tears start welling up in the corners of her eyes, and progressively grow until they steadily drip down her cheeks. “I was here, you know. I’d moved to the grounds when I was 11, invited by the family to work alongside Mrs. Pitch. I’d told you, I’d been friends with Fiona, and our families were friends. Therefore, Mrs. Pitch trusted me to help her tend to the estate, and so on. She called upon me soon after she’d had Basilton, and her being herself, refused a nanny.

“About four or five years into my staying, the attack happened. I was preparing one of her horses for an afternoon ride and I’d heard such awful screaming--like the world was set ablaze. When I got there, I’d found Mrs. Pitch dead and the poor, young Basilton with a nasty injury. He survived, of course, but when the investigations came through and they’d asked him what happened to his mother, he was too shocked to even speak still. Don’t think he ever fully got over it.” She stops, wiping her face and staring off out the window. I fear stopping her, so I allow her to pause before continuing to speak. “While nothing ever got confirmed, my brother Nicodemus always had a crowd that aroused suspicions-”

“And what were those?” I cut, jumping a tad in my seat as my brows narrow. For the first time, the slightest hint at a lead sets me on my absolute edge.

Ebb taps her tears away onto her scarf, sniffling as she occupies her hands with her mug. “He’d always said there was such horrible business deals going on in town. I never quite wanted to believe him, but he’d say he’d sit at the tavern and hear men speak in hushed tones over body counts and trading hit deals...”

I let a beat pass, mind reeling as I assess the information. “Ebb, do you know where you brother is now?”

She seems to ignore my question, mind off somewhere distant as she continues. “He always got into so much trouble, my brother. He’d eavesdrop on conversations he shouldn’t have. Part of me blames that on his skipping the country with Fiona, but I also think he just wanted to leave…”

“Did he know anything?”

“... he seemed scared for me to stay, but only because how close I am in proximity to the Grimm-Pitch family…”

“Ebb?” I plead, eyes searching hers frantically as she appears glazed over and distant. Heartbeats between us pass irregularly before she snaps away and stares up at me, tears streaming more steadily.

“He said he’d heard a hit for Mr. Pitch’s life,” she breaks, cracking around the edges. “I didn’t believe him. I should’ve believed him. If I’d believed him--”

I stare on, throat constricting as I raise a hand. “Don’t--it’s not your fault, Ebb. It wasn’t… it was a while ago, and you were young. You cannot hold yourself at blame for the actions of others, even if the situation is so haunting.” I swallow around my words, trying to push the next ones out. “But, this is important, Ebb, so please. Did you know who said it? Where it was said?”

She wrings her hands around her navy blue scarf, knuckles bearing a bit white as she swallows down a lifetime of guilt. “I… no. I’m sorry, Simon. I just know it’s the only tavern in town…”

Searching her face, I nod and stand. “Thank you. I’m sorry, I have to run, but thank you so much.” I take her hands, shaking both of them as she nods understandingly and waves me off without a word.

I find myself sprinting up to the manor, taking stairs two at a time and rushing into the library where I know Baz is lounging with a book as he waits for my return. While perhaps a tad dramatic and unneeded, given this information is nearly two decades old, I still burst into the room with a heaving chest and eyes wide.

He stares up at me in bewilderment, eyes narrowing and mouth turning sour. “What is this fuss about--”

“We have a lead,” I say breathlessly, struggling to catch air back into my lungs as I lean on the door. “Ebb--she--the tavern--a lead.”

He bolts upright, book falling onto his lap as he studies my face. “A lead?” he asks, pushing himself to his feet carefully before limping over and standing in front of me, hands in front of his chest as he tries to decide what to do. “Good heavens, a lead!”

I nod, impulsively outstretching my hands and linking them between his. “Do we have time to run? Shall we make our leave tonight?”

His fingers curl around mine as he looks over my face, thinking. “It's Christmas Eve, man, we can't run now. But, surely, we can take a horse from the stable and ride into town after everyone has fallen asleep.” His lips twitch, threatening a smile. “At last…”

My feet shift, keeping my balance steady as I lean up to speak to him. “What do we do if we find the man?” I whisper, eyes searching his as I keep up on the balls of my feet to speak closely with him.

“We’ll decide there,” he says somewhat dismissively, hands unlocking from mine and lowering as he glances over me. “Do you plan on changing for dinner?”

I blink at the conversation change, feeling suddenly inadequate in my everyday outfit. “I hadn’t particularly planned on it, why?”

“Such a ghastly outfit for a holiday dinner, don’t you think?” he comments bluntly, rolling his eyes before catching my wrist. “Show me to your clothes; I’ll pick what should be worn for tonight.”

For the past months within this residence, the awareness my of social stature has somewhat gone mute. There’s the general activities we participate in, but since there’s little to no discussion between the family (besides Mr. Pitch and the children) and I, there’s no need to try to show up each other. This, though, changes within the flash of an eye when a holiday is presented. Unsure of whether or not we’d have company, I’d assumed my daily fashion would be proper enough, but the way Baz flips through my outfits makes my stomach churn.

“Do you have visitors?” I ask the question that should’ve been brought up long ago.

He waves a hand to dismiss it. “No.” And that’s all there is to that. No.

An outfit change for people I eat with everyday. Just as Friday dinners are, but apparently more pressuring, due to the festivities at hand. Whatever those will be.

He drags out a particularly sharp suit (a grey one), stuffing it into my arms before making a bored face as he shoos me off. Upon my return to the room, he’s nowhere to be seen.

I don’t see him again until the dinner bell rings.

As I take my seat, drawing in my chair and looking over the decorative dinner spread, he saunters in casually and nods at each of us. Suddenly, I feel naked despite such a well tailored outfit, looking dull in comparison to his. A deep maroon, with black lacing details. Every piece matches, down to the draping coat and tie. He has his hair pushed back, and his hat sits delicately and well-framing on the top of his head as a few waves of inky black lay on his shoulders.

He must catch that my jaw is slightly open, because he mocks closing it subtly. I blush, barely even knowing that I’m blushing.

Dinner is brief and joyless; a typical night’s meal, just accompanied by better dressing and more holiday based decorations. At the end, we all wish one another a good night before making off to our typical evening business. Baz and I find ourselves in his room, trying to create a sturdy game plan.

I’ve slowly grown to be more alert while in Baz’s private chambers. Despite the fact that our interactions have been remaining as relatively innocent, I still feel the prickling anxiety that a servant would walk in and have the wrong idea of the nature of our relationship. The way we act here is unusual, to say the very least. Given our slightly more turbulent interactions outside of our private conversations, it allows anyone who may know the truth of our “friendship” grounds to speculate.

Nevertheless, I make no effort to spend less time with him. I fact, more than often, I spend the night sleeping on his sofa. This way, we would research and work until our eyes couldn’t take the strain any longer and we were forced retire for the night. While I’m aware that my bedroom is feet away, I actively decide to tell myself that it’s easier to stay than to leave the room.

I elect to ignore my other thoughts on the situation.

Tonight, though, we don’t allow ourselves to get tired. I don’t believe I can, truly; the adrenaline sparked from the new revelations and the adventure only hours away keeps my mind running.

I lounge back on his long, deep velvet maroon bed bench, my gaze following him as he paces impatiently. At first thought, I consider telling him to settle near me and speak his mind, but I know how much effort that takes in itself. So, instead, I let him run himself in circles as his eyes squeeze shut.

“Baz,” I utter after watching him wear a track into the wooden floors, sitting upright as I speak. He doesn’t immediately snap away, hand up around his face and holding his forehead in the crook between his pointer and thumb. “Baz?”

His head lifts upon the second calling, blinking into consciousness and nodding. “Hm? Oh, yes. What is it?”

“I believe it’s nearly midnight,” I say, planting my feet onto the floor and forcing myself up as I button back up my smooth grey jacket. I catch him studying my every movement, gaze softening around the edges. I elect to ignore it. “Shall we make our leave?”

He nods wordlessly, collecting a heavier overcoat before instructing me to go collect my own. We meet out in the hallway, halfway between our respective bedrooms. In utter silence, we trek down to the stables and carefully tack and saddle both rides. Within minutes, we’re making our way out the far exit of the gates (the one that takes much less effort to open) and riding rapidly down the winding roads towards the town.

I stay behind Baz, trying to be aware to any dangers around us whilst failing to do so miserably. He’s utterly distracting; a cavern of darkness from behind, seemingly pitch black in comparison to the bright, freshly lain snow. I cannot see much besides the whipping tail of his jacket and the billowing of his shoulder length hair in the wind, but the bright moonlight nearly turns him blue in the dead of night, reflecting iridescently and hypnotizing me into a trance.

I don’t snap from it until we reach the edge of town, slowing our horses to a more calmed trot as we near the tavern. He guides me through, as I’m barely accustomed to the area itself.

In the dead of night, the gentle clomping of the horses’ hooves echo down the somewhat emptied alleyway, occupied only occasionally by a shying away woman of the night. It’s clear we’re not welcomed by any person in the town; it’s never a good sign when wealthy men come down in the early hours of Christmas morning. The dawning realization hits me of how much we look like we’re tempting the Devil.

Upon reaching the tavern, Baz ties off the horses nearby and leads the both of us inside, stuffing tobacco into his pipe. As the doors push open, heads turn in the dimly lit haze of the room. It reeks of hops, and the cloud of smoke nearly makes it impossible to make out faces even feet away from you. Everything's hanging heavy in haze of the the holiday drunken depression.

Confidently, Baz swaggers over to the bar, leading me to scurry behind him as he orders a local brew. I, on the other hand, stay sober in fear of needing to be the defensive brawler for both of us. In seeming disregard to his class status, Baz throws back his drink and orders a new one immediately after, melting right into the scene as he spins the rim of his mug.

As his hand reaches out for the second, a deep, ugly voice snarls something from the other end of the bar. He sits closer to the fireplace, silhouetting his figure. In the hidden identity, he still bites a characterful commentary towards my companion. “Why is such a pigeon-livered boy like you here?”

Baz stiffens beside me, fingertip still tracing the rim as his eyes remain downcasted.

“I said,” the scraping of wood reverberates in my ears despite the chatter around us as the man stands away from the table, “what’s your business here, ratbag?”

Without raising his head, the voice beside me addresses the offensively bold man. “I’m trying to find out information. Doubt you’ve got the brains for it, though.” As the other man draws closer, I can smell the wafting stench coming from him. A cocktail of liquor and sweat, seeping into his clothes and giving the illusion that he lives to drink and drinks to live.

“You got plenty of years of education, you don’t need to learn nothing here.”

“Somebody knows more than I.”

I finally grow the gut to raise my eyes, peering up at the man who drew closer and finding myself meeting an unexpectedly familiar face. He looks like a near mirror image for Ebb, yet more time worn and tattered. It strikes me as almost as a blow to the head, sending me mentally toppling back in my seat.

This must be Nicodemus.

It all ruminates inside me, trying to catch up the situation. I had believed he left; I’d imagined that Baz had expected him to have left as well, but there he is. In the flesh.

In a disheveled, depressing state.

“Tell me, Mr. Petty,” Baz keeps his eyes focused elsewhere, finding themselves on his pipe as he turns it in his hand and returns it to his lips after swallowing the remnants of his second drink. “Who killed my mother? What did they want from her?”

The man’s eyes flicker over him, seeming a tad amused as he begins. “There was a difference there, Mr. Pitch, between who killed her, and the person who wanted something.”

Baz clearly pushes back his discomfort, head lifting as he fearfully looks over the man. “A hit, then?” Nicodemus nods. “Who was it?”

“You must me mad to think I’d tell you.”

“I’ll pay,” he offers quickly. “It’ll feed your habits for a while, if you take it. You can keep your facade of hiding for a little longer.”

The man pauses briefly, sitting at the bar beside Baz as he orders another drink. After he downs it, Baz impatiently cuts in. “What’s your point in hiding it? It’s done now, it should mean nothing to you.”

A longer stretch of silence between us extends, and the reality of his answer hits the brilliantly bright Baz before it reaches me.

“It wasn’t her, was it?” he breathes, eyes blowing wide as he backs up towards me. I resist the urge to reach out and drag him close. “It was meant for me.”

Nicodemus pulls his lip into his mouth, looking at Baz with a shockingly familiar look of empathetic sadness before his face falls flat once more. “I would watch my back if I were you, Mr. Pitch. You’re focusing on the wrong attacks now.”

As quickly Nicodemus’ cryptic messages spill out, the faster Baz bolts from his seat and leaves in a flurry of his dark coat and starling rush of footsteps. I freeze momentarily before following out, shouting his name as I watch him untie his own horse and take off, not even hesitating to my voice. In a panic, I shakily untie my own ride and race down the roads, following his far off figure as the kickback sprays more outwardly behind me.

Thankfully, he slows down after we reach nearly a quarter of the way back to his family’s residence. I expect him to fall into step with me and simply trail me home, but he abruptly stops and dismantles before doubling over and panting.

I pull up beside him, stepping off my horse slowly. Baz startles, staring down at me as I approach. Swiftly, he outstretches his hands and shoves me down onto the snow, snapping a tearful “Leave!” before disappearing into the woods.

In a chaotic, disorienting blur, I follow him in, hopelessly shouting his name. Eventually, I find him backed up against a snowy log and frantically searching his pockets. As I approach, he looks as skittish as a deer in the midst of a hunt. He practically yelps, chest still heaving as his hands fly to my chest and jacket, throwing it open. His hands dig into my pockets, shouting barely coherent cries in front of me.

“Good God man, where do you keep your dagger? Your sword? For the love of all that is fair, any blade will do!”

I feel my vision get dizzied, partially by the proximity and sliding of his touches, but also by the distressing rapidness of his words. In a haze, I slot my hands around his jaw and cup around it to feel his smooth, well shaved cheeks. He continues shouting, crying and begging me for a knife as I shake my head, trying to break through his words.

“Please, Baz,” I yell back, shaking him slightly as his hands dig through each of our pockets once more. “Listen to me, just listen!”

“It’s my fault,” he cries dismissively, “just please, grant me the fate I’d meant to be given.”

“Baz!” I snap, pulling his jaw forward and staring into his searching, wild eyes as tears stream down his frozen cheeks. “Good heavens, I beg of you to stop this now!”

He shakes his heads, warping further into an incoherent jumble that it makes me feel as if I’m the insane one, begging for a dagger.

In a whirlwind, fear fueled moment of total desperation, I pull his head forward and slam my lips into his in order to quiet him for just a brief second. To my surprise, it works immediately. His hands going limp and freeze against the fabric of my suit jacket, his mouth keeping up against mine in shock. After moments pass, I feel him push back into me, hands sliding up my chest and gripping whatever can get a hold of as he kisses me back with the force of a battle.

After a minute or so of rough, clumsy kissing, he makes the move to pull back and practically hyperventilate against me. Slowly, I snake my hands up his front and hold his hair, attempting to coach him through his breathing. I let him come down against me, stroking his head and murmuring sweet soothing words.

Despite the wet seeping through to my leg in this calf-deep snow at our feet, I stand still with him as he trembles and folds over on top of me. We stay put at first, unmoving and pressed up against one another. I consider moving to see him, but my mind begins whirling back into reality. What if I spook him into running again? What if I’d ruined our budding possible friendship with kissing him?

My mind gets cut short by lips pressing to mine. At first, it’s tentative; unsure motions and little, tracing touches of his fingers finding the exposed skin of my neck. Then, upon my positive response, it suddenly sparks back to heated and fervent, tumbling me back into the blanket of snow as his body covers mine.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #478

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up”

If you were dying who would you say goodbye to first out of everyone? My mom. Are you someone who actually likes to babysit children? NO. Do you find any of your friends’ parents creepy or really mean? No. Do you have things on your mind right now? My weight is very, very much on my mind. I dared to weigh myself yesterday and I'm the heaviest I've ever been. So that's comforting. Are you at all stressed right now? ^^^^^^^ hunny I wanna pull all my hair out What was the last stuffed animal you bought? I don't know. What’s the last new good song that you discovered? "The Devil's Rejects" by Rob Zombie. I've been really into him lately. Felicity, Fiona, or Flavia? (with the “v” pronounced like a “w”–it’s Latin) "Felicity" is beautiful. I love the word in general. Which biblical name do you prefer: Naomi, Esther, Rachel, or Joanna? I love the name Naomi. Do you own a cowboy hat? No. Have you ever unfriended a sibling on social media? No; she unfriended me. Has someone let you down recently? My goddamn self. What are you looking forward to? Mom to get better so we can force ourselves back into the gym. Also Girt's mom to get better so we can see each other. For the weather to actually feel fall-ish. What’s your favorite Lady Gaga song? "Bad Romance." Skeletons or scarecrows? Skelly boiz What type of tree is the most common where you live? Oh, absolutely pine trees. Where did your last kiss take place? My living room. Name of your pet? Venus and Roman. How was your summer? Shitty. I hate summer. Do you miss anyone right now? I really miss Girt. Covid's gotta go. What size is your shirt? *feral hissing noises* Who was the last person you held hands with? Girt. Do you get out of bed on the left side or right side? Left, because I sleep mostly to the left. Do you like to be closer or farther back to the wheel when driving? Neither, I think? I haven't driven in so long that I'm not sure, but I'm quite sure I position myself pretty ideally. When eating dinner, do you eat foods in order or just inhale it? It's usually kind of in order, but occasionally I'll mix it up. When you lose your phone, where is the first general place you look? My bed. Do you fall asleep with your mouth open or closed? Usually closed. I tend to breathe through my nose unless I'm stuffy. What was the last bug you killed? An ant. Do you keep items in your front or back pants’ pocket? Front. What was the last item or location you cleaned? My glasses. Do you own a pet spider? No, but I REALLY want a number of tarantulas. :( The more time that passes, the more I want some, ha ha. I'd also love a jumping spider or two, but Mom won't allow even that. Have you ever gone on a cruise? No. Is there a rocking chair in your house? No. Have you ever been stood up? No. Do you like elevators or escalators? I'm scared of both. I'm afraid of getting stuck in an elevator, or falling down an escalator/tripping on one. Which do you prefer: M&M’s, Skittles, or Reese’s Pieces? Reese's Pieces, yum. If you could be the sidekick of a superhero which superhero would you pick? Uhhhh maybe Spider-Man, if I could web-sling too? lol Where on your body would you never get a tattoo? ... Can/do people get genitalia tattoos? Because I would fuckin never- Do you think that you could ever win a food eating contest? Hell no. I would puke. Honestly, have you ever thrown garbage out of the window of a car? Absolutely not. Never. What is the first song that comes to mind when I say: Michael Jackson? "Billie Jean." Which would you find more menacing: dinosaurs or dragons? Dragons are just dinos that can fly and breathe fire, so... you tell me which is more dangerous. I'd still try to befriend one tho lmao. Can you say “hello” in another language? Yeah; German is easy. It's just "hallo." Do you like licorice? NO omg Did anybody ever read bedtime stories to you when you were younger? Mom did. Do you have a favorite Johnny Depp movie? What is it? I really like his roles in Alice in Wonderland and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Were you ever force-fed as a child? My parents tried to enforce always finishing our plates. My mom is very against that now, considering the issues it can cause. Should kidneys or other organs be able to be bought and sold? No????? That's some black market bullshit for a reason. What is one of your most important rules when going on a date? Especially if it's your first date with a person, watch for red flags. Will children today have better or worse lives than their parents, and why? Well, it'll probably go in both ways depending on the topic. The environment is dying, the economy is horrific, but I'm sure there will be things like medical advancements. What's the most ironic thing you've seen happen? I dunno. Would you rather go ice skating or roller skating? Roller skating. The blades on ice skates scare me. How many different types of guns have you shot? (water, Nerf, real, etc) Uhhh just water and Nerf, I think? Which of the three meals a day are you most likely to skip? It's very unlikely you'll see me miss a meal... I don't handle the feeling of hunger well. What's something lots of people are afraid of, but you aren't? Snakes, some spiders, I don't THINK I'm scared of deep water, the dark... Do you know anyone who is tolerant of some on the LGBT spectrum but not all? Yes. Do open casket wakes freak you out? I've only been to one, as a child, when I didn't have a full grasp on death, so it was... oddly more fascinating to me, as weird as that sounds? I think going to one now, especially if it was someone close to me, it would make the wake more upsetting. When's the last time you slept in your parents' bed? No clue. What's something that will always be in fashion? Skinny jeans, checkered Vans... What "old person things" do you do? I regularly say "back in the day," lol. And I can go to sleep very early, like 7, but that's uncommon. I complain about soreness in my back and stuff. Do you live in the same hometown as where you were born? No. Did you dorm at college or commute from home? I commuted from home. Do you prefer the thin blue and white masks, or decorative ones? Well, who wouldn't prefer decorative ones? They're more personal to your interests and stuff and I feel is more encouraging to make people wear them. I however don't want to spend money on a mask, so I'm chill with just the blue surgical ones. Have you ever witnessed someone have a seizure before? My dog, yes. Have you ever rode on the back of a shopping cart, or a Home Depot dolly? Yeah, as a kid. Does everything you buy have to be organic? No. I don't buy the groceries, but I also don't care much about that. Do you support more small businesses or chain restaurants/stores? Habitually, chain ones. I wish I paid more attention to small businesses. Have you ever been crowned king or queen at a school dance? No. How old were you when you first started wearing a bra? Am I supposed to remember that? Are you more invested in computer games or video games? I don't care what the game is on; I can be equally invested in either. I prefer to play console games, though. Are you a fan of pumpkin spice everything? Noooo. I'm not a massive fan of it, actually. Is there any holiday that you don't decorate your house for? We only really decorate for occasionally Halloween and always Christmas. Mom may put up some Thanksgiving stuff. Tell me something your parents don't know about. They don't know certain places I've done sexual things at/on. What's the last table food you fed your pet? Roman doesn't get human food. He learned at a young age that's a no-no. Have you ever peed in the water at the beach? Ew, no. Even if it's incredibly vast, people still swim in that. Have you ever scored a winning goal for a team you played for? I doubt it. Have you ever participated in LARPing? No. Have you ever gotten a divorce? Never been married. Do you prefer "regular kissing" or French kissing? I mean that depends on the place and the mood. Are you more likely to give a hickey to someone else or get one? I haven't done that in many years, and when it happened, I don't think one of us did it more than the other. Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? I HATE sprinkles. Have you been in more car accidents as a passenger or a driver? I've only ever been in an accident as a passenger. Have you ever been wrongfully convicted of a crime? No. Was any of the cafeteria food at your school actually any good? I actually didn't mind a good number of things. Have you ever wanted to become a lifeguard? No. What's the highest fever you've ever had? I'm unsure, but over 100. Have you ever kissed a dog on the mouth? Well, dogs have kissed ME on the mouth. al;sdkfjalksdjkf so gross When you were born was the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck? Uh, I don't believe so. I feel like I would know that if I was. Would you enter a burning building to save a kitten? I feel like I would, I think. My intense love of animals would probably force me to kick into action. Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John? Haaaa, I have a bias for "Mark," of course... but if we're talking which name I find most appealing, it's probably John. Or Luke. Have you ever been told that you talk too much? As a child, yes. Do you like to clean? Does ANYBODY enjoy it? Do you know of anyone who went into labor at the baby shower? Uh yikes. No. When's the last time you did a hand game with someone? (ie: Mary Mack) Probably not since I was little. Do you know anyone who was not born in a hospital, unexpectedly? No. Does anyone you know have dual citizenship to live in multiple countries? Possibly? Do you still have a landline phone/phone number? No. Name a fad that was popular when you were growing up, that you miss. Oh, I KNOW there's some things, but I don't recall right now. Have you ever gotten to milk a cow or a goat? No. I'm not sure I'd want to.

[gleam-blog]

“Taming of The Alpha”

A 10-Minute play

 By:

J.T. Espino

T.M. Kabiling

K.S. Ocampo

F.M. Sales

J. Simon

CHARACTERS

Simon Adler – 20 years old. President of Alpha Beta Max.

Fiona Boyle – 19 years old. President of MARIA

Julian Sprouse – 19 years old. Vice President of Alpha Beta Max. Best friend of Simon. Has a fling with Reese.

Reese Gogh – 20 years old. Vice President of MARIA. Best friend of Fiona. Has a fling with Julian

 TIME

This time is in year 2019

 PLACE

Maxwell University in Padua

SCENE 1

Morning. Boulevard of Maxwell University. There are booths set up for the club fair. The organizations Alpha Beta Max and MARIA’s booths are facing each other. MARIA giving out flyers. Boys enter

ALPHA BETA MAX

(chanting very loud)

Alpha Beta Max, Alpha Beta Max, Alpha Beta Max!

At this moment, JULIAN arrives, followed immediately by SIMON. JULIAN conducts the lead cheering.

JULIAN

Be cool, be a beta brother and strengthen each other.

SIMON

(nonchalantly)

Relax, guys. let them come to us.

FIONA

Tch, men. They’re just noisy good-for-nothings. Hi, join MARIA and end patriarchy together. Beware of those low college men.

Boys found their way roaming around the boulevard. SIMON overheard MARIA’s President, FIONA. He goes near MARIA’s booth with a loathsome grin

SIMON

(smirks)

Do I really affect you that much? Try focusing on your “organization” instead of swooning over us.

He backs up pretending to drop a mic. He forgets that his boys already left

FIONA

(exasperates)

Excuse me, how can anyone like such cocky guys like you?

From the other booth, college girls spotted SIMON. FIONA turns to the squealing girls

COLLEGE GIRLS

Oh. My. God! It’s Simon Adler! I’d totally hit that.

SIMON

You were saying?

FIONA hesitant to turn back to SIMON, starts clenching fists. REESE approaches and grabs FIONA’S arm away

REESE

(calmly)

Fiona, let him be. C’mon, let’s go

JULIAN comes from the nearby booth. He approaches SIMON

JULIAN

(kinky)

Hey, bro! Whatchu doin’ out here? What’s up with these la…dies.

JULIAN and REESE make eye contact. REESE tilts her head and widens her eyes.

REESE

Why don’t you go and take some rest? I’ll take care of this.

Everyone exits. REESE and JULIAN meet at the alley far from the booths.

REESE

What was that all about? Why are you with Simon?

JULIAN

What about you? Why are you with Fiona? Don’t tell me that you’re part of MARIA?

REESE

(fiercely)

What about it? At least, I’m not in a stupid group like Alpha Beta Max!

JULIAN

(offended)

What do you mean stupid? It’s my group!

REESE

Then, why didn’t I hear about this last summer?

JULIAN

(replies softly)

So, what do we do now? What about us?

REESE

I don’t know, Julian. I don’t think it’s possible with our situation right now.

REESE steps back and leaves JULIAN alone. REESE exits

JULIAN

(Obnoxiously nodding whilst talking to himself)

I need to do something about this. I have to make this work.

SCENE 2

Evening. Alpha Beta Max fraternity house. JULIAN and SIMON drinking their usual away from the other boys who were playing on their XBOX

JULIAN

(befuddles)

Fuck, bro. Who were you with a while ago? Damn, they’re gor-hor-geous, man! Isn’t she a catch? But she’s from MARIA.

SIMON

(baffles)

Yeah, bro. But that girl, you’re talking about is hell of a shrew.

JULIAN

Well yeah? You’ll have to find out yourself if you shoot your shot, ain’t it? But bro, you’re a ladies’ man, would you let her ruin your reputation?

SIMON

What’s the point? It’s a waste of my time. Ugh, I don’t have to prove anything to her and you.

JULIAN

Oh man, ya’ just gonna let them define us – just boys?! You should show them that we are more than “just boys”. We are Alpha Beta Max. Are you just gonna settle for words?

SIMON

Okay fine! I’ll do it. I am doing this for my Alpha Beta Max brothers. Nothing more, nothing less.

JULIAN

(mirthfully)

Yes! That’s my man. We are rooting for you!

Boys wooed even if they didn’t know what was it about. Everyone exits.

SCENE 3

Morning. Library. FIONA is reading a book. SIMON approaches her.

SIMON

(flirty)

The Feminine Mystique. It suits you, strong and opinionated.

FIONA

(disrupted, annoyed)

What are you doing here? Are you here to yet again feed your male ego?

SIMON

Why do I need to feed my ego when girls do it for me?

FIONA

(exasperated then angrily replies)

Ugh! The audacity! You men are so full of yourselves like you think that women live for your needs and women can’t live without you. You think you can play with wo-

SIMON

Relax! Okay? Why do you hate men so much huh?

FIONA

For your information, it’s not that I hate men. We’re merely asking for equal opportunities. This fight is not about our pride, it’s about helping our fellow women fight for themselves. We seek nothing but mutual respect.

SIMON

(softly)

Well, that made me feel bad. I know I haven’t been really nice to you. It’s just that I didn’t realize the depth of your cause. To make it up to you, how about we grab some ice cream?

FIONA

(hesitant)

Hm, okay? But make sure that this isn’t just one of your schemes.

SIMON

Of course! See you tomorrow?

SCENE 4

Morning. Hallway of Maxwell University. JULIAN and SIMON already settled in Hallways, talks whilst fixing stuff inside their lockers.

JULIAN

Hey, bro! I heard you went out with the shrew last night. So, how was it?

SIMON

(nonchalantly)

Yeah, it turned out really well and by the way don’t call her a shrew, she’s not like that.

JULIAN

(confounded)

What do you mean?

SIMON

(dreamy)

She’s actually really nice… and really smart.

FIONA enters without the knowledge of the boys and she listens

JULIAN

(giddy)

So, don’t tell me you like Fiona, already.

SIMON

(laughs)

No, bro.

JULIAN

(unamused)

The way I see it, you still need to work on the bet. She needs to fall head over heels for you.

Fiona is shocked with what she heard. She tries to run away and Simon sees her and grabs her in the arm.

SIMON

(shocked)

Fiona, wait, it’s not what you think it is.

FIONA

Then what is it Simon? I thought you were different and you actually understood me.

SIMON

Don’t get mad.

FIONA

(aggravated)

I’m not mad at you. I’m just disappointed because I thought that this was finally the start of a good relationship between us.

FIONA walks away but SIMON did not try to chase her. FIONA then entered the organization room with disappointment on her face. She heavily puts her things down and REESE enters and notices her immediately

SCENE 5

REESE

Hey, is everything alright? Seems like you had a rough day.

FIONA

(furious and disappointed)

Guess what? Those boys from Alpha Beta Max? They bet on me. Men really think they have the right to objectify women and treat us as toys. And I'm actually disappointed with myself for thinking they were changing.

REESE

(befuddles)

What? Bet on you? Is it Simon and Julian?

FIONA

(confounded)

Yes, how’d you know?

REESE storms out immediately to the corridor and Julian approaches her.

REESE

(angrily)

So, this was the thing you planned on doing and you thought it was a good plan, huh?

JULIAN

I just thought that if our leaders are in good terms, then we could be together.

REESE

(furious)

But Fiona had nothing to do with this and you treated her as something you can play with. What you did was wrong no matter how you look at it.

JULIAN

I know it was a bad idea. I'm sorry, Reese. What can I do to make it up to you?

REESE leaves JULIAN alone in the hallway. Everyone exits. Enter JULIAN who calls SIMON and tells him to meet him at the fraternity house.

SCENE 6

SIMON

(anxiously pacing)

Shit man! We are so screwed up. Fiona’s mad at me and I don’t know what to do because I actually started to have feelings for her. What a stupid bet.

JULIAN

I know. I screwed up too. I schemed this whole thing for Reese and I to be together. I met her this summer and things have been going great until we realized we were in opposing groups. Now she’s mad at me too. This whole thing’s a mess.

SIMON

What? This basically means that we’re in the same situation. What do we even do now?

JULIAN

I don’t know, try and win their hearts back? Just trust me on this. This whole thing’s my fault and I’m gonna try and fix it myself.

SCENE 7

Morning. Hallway of Maxwell University. JULIAN approaches REESE’s locker and leaves flowers and chocolates inside. REESE reaches her locker and sees Julian.

REESE

(baffles)

What do you think you’re doing here? Why are you leaving your trash in my locker?

JULIAN

(confused)

What do you mean trash? Don’t you like flowers and chocolates? Come on. I got these for you.

REESE

(fiercely)

Do you really think I’m that shallow? Flowers and chocolates aren’t gonna cut it, Julian.

SIMON

Hey, Fiona. You saw what I got for you?

FIONA

Yes. Don’t ever give me those trash again. You can’t even sincerely apologize.

Eveyone exits. Bleachers of the school’s soccer field. SIMON and JULIAN enters

SCENE 8

SIMON

(unhappily reports)

What a plan, Julian. It failed again.

JULIAN

(abrasively replies)

Well, I don’t know what else to do! I thought they were gonna appreciate it!

SIMON

(alacritous)

You know what, after spending some time with Fiona, I actually now understand them. We need to apologize. Let’s do this for real.

SCENE 9

Morning. Auditorium of Maxwell University, filled with the entire student body, graduation stuff everywhere. JULIAN enters and walks towards SIMON

JULIAN

(nonchalantly asks)

Hey, man. You ready? It’s gonna be a long ass speech.

SIMON

(nervously replies)

I’m not, but here goes nothing.

SIMON, JULIAN, FIONA, and REESE together with the other seniors of Maxwell University march on the red carpet as a part of the graduation rites. The principal calls SIMON to deliver his speech as the president of Alpha Beta Max.

SIMON

(holds the microphone with confidence and pride)

To end my speech, as the president of Alpha Beta Max, I would like to formally apologize to the members of MARIA for ignoring their causes as an organization. This school year, I have had the opportunity to know the president of MARIA. After spending sometime with her, I finally realized the importance of their organization. It promotes equality and helps many women around the world. MARIA truly makes a difference. Alpha Beta Max supports MARIA and their endeavors.

JULIAN gets close and sits beside REESE. Turns to REESE

JULIAN

Heard the speech? I took part in writing that.

REESE

(laughs)

Oh, really? Quite good then. I guess you’re sorry?

JULIAN

(smiles slyly)

I was about to apologize! I’m sorry, Reese.

SIMON descends from the stage. FIONA goes to the backstage and approaches SIMON.

FIONA

Nice speech you got there.

SIMON

(scratches the back of his head)

Really? Is it alright?

FIONA

(nods and smiles)

SIMON

(nervously clears his throat and gently holds Fiona’s hand)

Look, Fiona. I’m really sorry for what happened. What I did is inexcusable. But despite that, I’d like you to know that what you saw in me was real. This time, if you give me the chance, I want to get to know you more.

FIONA

(looks at Simon’s eyes)

No secrets this time?

SIMON

(smiles with certainty)

No secrets this time.

THE END

Photo Credit: Touchstone Pictures.

[kmalexander]

My Reading List for 2019

The next decade looms. But for now, it’s time for reflection. It’s been an exciting year full of amazing experiences. Plus, I did a ton of reading! So, as I do every year, I’ve compiled a list of the books I’ve read over the last three hundred and sixty-five days, and I’m here to share them with you all.

Overall, I’m thrilled with my reading for the year. It contained several firsts for me. I read a plethora of great books—my most in a single year. (Forty-seven!) I Did-Not-Finish’d my first book ever. (It’ll remain nameless.) I quit listening to the news/sports during my commute and have now switched over to audiobooks one hundred percent of the time. (Those are labeled with the emoji.) I beta-read three upcoming novels—my most in a single year. And, on top of all of that, I managed to read a bunch of great short stories and got to spend more time reading graphic novels as well. So yeah—it’s been a great year of reading.

This list correlates with my Goodreads 2019 Reading Challenge but always includes a few extra since Goodreads doesn’t let me count beta reading and I don’t list comics or short stories over there. Remember, this is all strictly reading for pleasure—I typically forgo listing any research/history books. Since this list is always enormous, l skip reviews except for my top three in each category. However, I’d invite you to follow me on Goodreads, where I do occasionally leave other reviews.

As before, all links will go to Amazon through my affiliate account by default. If one of these books sounds interesting to you, I’d encourage you to skip Amazon and instead visit your local independent bookstore and purchase through them. It’s essential for your local economy to buy local whenever you’re able, and always good to build a relationship with your local indie bookshop.

Okay, to the list!

Novels

Tomorrow’s Shepherd (The Verdant Revival #2) by Michael Ripplinger

Beta Reading (Fantasy) by REDACTED

Promise of Blood (Powder Mage #1) …again  by Brian McClellan

Mapping the Interior by Stephen Graham Jones

Authority: A Novel (The Southern Reach #2)   by Jeff VanderMeer

The Traitor Baru Cormorant (The Masquerade #1) by Seth Dickinson

‘Salem’s Lot   by Stephen King

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater

Nine Princes in Amber (The Chronicles of Amber #1)  by Roger Zelazny

The Last Kingdom (The Saxon Chronicles Series #1) by Bernard Cornwell

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark

Beta Reading (Sci-Fi) by REDACTED

The Civil War: A Narrative: Volume 1: Fort Sumter to Perryville by Shelby Foote

Butcher Bird …again. by Richard Kadrey

House of Furies by Madeleine Roux

A. Grimsbro, Warlord of Mars (Futhermucking Classics #2) by Matt Youngmark

I Am Providence by Nick Mamatas

The Compleat Crow by Brian Lumley

Orconomics: A Satire (The Dark Profit Saga #1) by J. Zachary Pike

Beta Reading (Fantasy) by REDACTED

Four Roads Cross (The Craft Sequence #5) by Max Gladstone

The Reality Dysfunction (Night’s Dawn #1) …again  by Peter F. Hamilton

The Grand Dark by Richard Kadrey

The Forever War by Joe Haldeman

Vermilion by Molly Tanzer

The Terror  by Dan Simmons

The City of Brass: A Novel (The Daevabad Trilogy #1) by S. A. Chakraborty

The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark

The Warehouse by Rob Hart

It: A Novel  by Stephen King

City of Blades (Divine Cities #2) by Robert Jackson Bennett

The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe by Kij Johnson

Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire #1) …again by George R. R. Martin

Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children #1) by Seanan McGuire

Carry On (Simon Snow #1) by Rainbow Rowell

Interview with the Vampire (The Vampire Chronicles #1)  by Anne Rice

Agents of Dreamland by Caitlin R. Kiernan

Abaddon’s Gate (The Expanse #3) by James S.A. Corey

Imago (Xenogenesis #3) by Octavia E. Butler

Punktown (Punktown) by Jeffrey Thomas

A Lush and Seething Hell by John Hornor Jacobs

Perdido Street Station (New Crobuzon #1) …again  by China Miéville

Uncanny Collateral (Valkyrie Collections #1) by Brian McClellan

United States of Japan by Peter Tieryas

A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire #2) …again by George R. R. Martin

Grass (Arbai #1) by Sheri S. Tepper

 Favorite Novel of 2019

A Lush and Seething Hell by John Hornor Jacobs

The Sea Dreams It Is The Sky was one of my favorite books last year, and when paired with its counterpart, My Heart Struck Sorrow, the two quickly merged to become my favorite book of the year. Connected via theme (and set in the same world), both novellas tell intense stories within stories unsettling accounts of humanity and history, obsession and turmoil. This is the new weird at its most exquisite. As unsettling throughout as it is enthralling. Phenomenal.

Favorite Novel Runners-up of 2019

Mapping the Interior by Stephen Graham Jones

Jones is a modern master of horror and always approaches the genre in unique ways; Mapping the Interior is no exception. Told from 12-year old Junior’s perspective, the story is one part family-struggle and one part ghost-story all woven with a heartfelt earnestness that’s easy to believe and hard to shake. It’s a book about childhood, family, heritage, legacy, and the cost and ramifications of all four. The ending devastated me.

The Terror by Dan Simmons

At first glance, this would appear to be a fictionalized account of Captain Sir John Franklin’s lost 1845 expedition to find the Northwest Passage. But there is more to this than historical account—much of this book delves into the psyche of survival while interspersing elements of the thriller and horror genres to weave an extraordinary and sometimes supernatural tale—Darkly disturbing, severely bleak, and utterly unforgettable.

 Honorable Mentions of 2019

As I did last year, I wanted to highlight a few other books. These honorable mentions are books that resonated with me long after I had finished them, and they deserve a callout. In no particular order…

The Grand Dark by Richard Kadrey A diesel-punk reflection on the ramifications of war. Kadrey’s best work.

Abaddon’s Gate by James S. A. Corey The 3rd entry in the incredible Expanse series.

Tomorrow’s Shepherd by Michael Ripplinger Giant machines and power armor continue the battle for Verge.

Punktown by Jeffrey Thomas New weird sci-fi anthology about the citizens living in a city on the frontier.

It: A Novel by Stephen King Um, it’s It. And It is so very, very good. Except for that one weird scene.

The Civil War: A Narrative: Volume 1: Fort Sumter to Perryville by Shelby Foote Detailed history of military campaigns during the first third of the American Civil War.

Short Stories

Ours by Randy Ribay

The Farm by Charlie Jane Anders

A Catalog of Storms by Fran Wilde

Bull Riding by Richard Kadrey

13 Ways of Destroying a Painting by Amber Sparks

Hell is a Parade by Nathan Crowder

Artificials Should Be Allowed to Worship by Steven James

The Three Stigmata of Peter Thiel by Brendan C. Byrne

Space Angel (Denim Superheroes) by Lee French

Beta Reading (Horror) by REDACTED

A Study in Emerald …again by Neil Gaiman

Beneath Their Hooves by Katharine Duckett

Favorite Short Stories of 2019

The Farm by Charlie Jane Anders

A short yet striking tale of a terrifying future that cuts too close to home. A reporter named Roy struggles to maintain his journalistic integrity while trying to keep advertisers happy. Anders is a great writer, and her tight prose works wonders here. The best short stories can alter how one views the world and as I watched the news cycle play out throughout the year, The Farm was never far from my mind.

 Favorite Short Story Runners-up

Hell is a Parade by Nathan Crowder

A violent little story of a parade that quickly shifts into a scene of horror as one young woman allows obsession to send her down a dark path. The descriptions are wonderful, the emotions hot and raw, and the parade personified as a living beast whose glamor corrupts as much as it enthralls. A wickedly subversive warning on the dangers and ramifications inherent within vengeance.

Artificial Should Be Allowed to Worship by Steven James

My favorite short stories dress modern struggles in fictional costume—Star Trek excelled at this—and this piece continues that tradition. Written as an op-ed, the piece pleads with the reader to understand and empathize with artificial individuals seeking a place to worship. The set dressing might be different, the plight fictional, but one can’t miss the echoes from the modern efforts towards equality.

 Graphic Novels

Monstress Vol. 1 by Marjorie Liu (Author), Sana Takeda (Artist)

Saga Vol. 7 by Brian K. Vaughan (Author), Fiona Staples (Artist)

Paper Girls: Book One by Brian K. Vaughan (Author), Cliff Chiang (Cover Art, Artist), Matthew Wilson (Artist)

The Promised Neverland, Vol. 1 by Kaiu Shirai (Author), Posuka Demizu (Illustrator)

Die, Vol 1: Fantasy Heartbreaker by Kieron Gillen (Author), Stephanie Hans (Artist)

Blackbird Vol. 1 by Sam Humphries (Author), Jen Bartel (Artist)

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll (Author & Artist)

Gideon Falls Vol. 1: The Black Barn by Jeff Lemire  (Author), Andrea Sorrentino (Artist), Dave Stewart (Artist)

Gideon Falls Vol. 2: Original Sin by Jeff Lemire  (Author), Andrea Sorrentino (Artist), Dave Stewart (Artist)

Uzumaki by Junji Ito (Author & Artist)

Trees Vol 2. by Warren Ellis (Author), Jason Howard (Artist)

Gideon Falls Vol. 3: Stations of the Cross by Jeff Lemire (Author), Andrea Sorrentino (Artist), Dave Stewart (Artist)

Death or Glory Vol. 1: She’s Got You by Rick Remender (Author), Bengal (Artist)

 Favorite Graphic Novel of 2017:

Uzumaki by Junji Ito

Kurôzu-cho is a coastal town haunted by uzumaki—spiral patterns that infest everything, distorting the village and its inhabitants. Everything starts simple enough, but as the chapters breeze past the effects of the uzumaki becomes more and more profound. With engaging characters and an incredible premise, this is quite easily one of the great horror comics ever written.

 Favorite Graphic Novel Runners-up of 2017:

Gideon Falls by Jeff Lemire, Andrea Sorrentino, Dave Stewart

This nearly took the top spot from me, and for a good reason; it’s an amazingly told tale. A young man becomes obsessed with a conspiracy theory found in a city’s trash, and elsewhere a priest becomes entwined in the rural legend of The Black Barn—a strange building that appears at random throughout history, leaving death in its wake. And then things get really weird…

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll

This creepy anthology horror collection was one of my favorites. It’s not “scary” in the traditional sense we Westerners expect; instead, there’s a folklorish creepiness to the tales therein. More Poe than Barker. Plus, the visuals that accompanied those spooky accounts only enhanced each tale. I read it cover to cover on a foggy October morning, and it remains a memorable and unforgettable read.

So, there is my list! A lot of reading in a variety of places I didn’t make time for last year. It was good to get back into comics and to start reading short stories. I’m considering adding a poetry section next year as well, but we’ll see. If anything suffered from this, it was my television and game systems, they’ve been lonely, but I’ve felt a lot more fulfilled with the fiction I’ve devoured. Fiction is the perfect way to step into the shoes of someone else and discover new points of view. So thanks, 2019—it’s been a fantastic year in reading. Here’s to more in 2020!

Are you looking for a good book? Want to see my reading lists from previous years? Check any of the links below and see what I was reading in the bygone halcyon days of old.

• 2013 • 2014 • 2015 • 2016 • 2017 • 2018 •

Next year, why not join me? Goodreads does a reading challenge every year, and I am an active participant. First, follow me on Goodreads (leave me a review while you’re there), and once the New Year arrives, participate in the Goodreads Reading Challenge for 2020.

Want to stay in touch with me? Sign up for Dead Drop, my rare and elusive newsletter. Subscribers get news, previews, and notices on my books before anyone else delivered directly to their inbox. I work hard to make sure it’s not spammy and full of interesting and relevant information.  SIGN UP TODAY →

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[gyrlversion]

JAN MOIR: My heart sinks just a little at this BBC Girl Power

For the first time, a flagship BBC politics programme will be fronted by three women. Emily Maitlis, Kirsty Wark and Emma Barnett are the all-female presenting team on BBC2’s Newsnight.

‘Boom. Let’s do this,’ Emma said when the news was announced.

This gave the impression the plucky threesome were girding their loinettes for some kind of battle, when the truth is the war has already been won.

In Beeb Central, the Time of Men — the old order of broadcasting patriarchy — is going, going, gone; replaced with furious alacrity by an illustrious regiment of women.

Leading men across all spheres, from showbiz to politics, are falling like kneecapped dominoes.

Emily Maitlis (pictured), Kirsty Wark and Emma Barnett are the all-female presenting team on BBC2’s Newsnight

There is a female Doctor Who and a toothsome female duo presenting Strictly Come Dancing, the Beeb’s most popular light entertainment show. Female DJs have replaced Chris Evans and Simon Mayo on Radio 2, while the golden but entitled Age of the Dimblebys is crumbling into dust.

BBC1’s Question Time David has been replaced by Fiona Bruce, while the successor to Radio 4’s Any Questions Jonathan has yet to be announced, but the smart money is on A (for Any) Woman — quite possibly Woman’s Hour’s Jane Garvey, or Fi Glover of the station’s The Listening Project.

From now until for ever, it seems every high-profile onscreen appointment will be given to a her, not a him, in this brave new broadcasting She-domain.

My heart should sing at this display of raw female power yet, instead, it sinks. Just a little — a dip, not a plunge. But the trajectory is definitely downwards.

It’s not that I object to the promotion of this trio of talented Newsnight women, each at the top of her game in myriad brilliant ways. 

No, it’s more that the BBC’s response to accusations of gender imbalance and its protracted gender pay-gap dispute has been so clumsy, so silly and, ironically, so devoid of fairness and equality.

For there is nothing positive about positive discrimination. All these well-meaning attempts to end discrimination simply end up with more discrimination.

Andrew Neil, by far the best political interviewer across the BBC network, will step down from his BBC1 This Week programme in July

At the BBC, a sometimes flawed meritocracy has been replaced by something far, far worse; blunderbuss gender politics in a workplace where white, middle-class males are treated like lepers.

Take Andrew Neil, by far the best political interviewer across the BBC network, who will step down from his BBC1 This Week programme in July — probably in exasperation at being continually shuffled off into a late-night ‘graveyard slot’.

BBC Director of News Fran Unsworth then cheerily said she would axe the show because ‘we couldn’t imagine it’ without Neil.

If she’s such a fan, why has the old bloodsucker been kept in his late-night coffin all these years?

Neil is still appearing in his lunchtime Politics Live show. Yesterday, he ticked off the voluble Remainer MP for Broxtowe, saying: ‘This is not the Anna Soubry Hour. I think you have had more than a fair say.’ Authoritative yet still polite, a first-class act in a second-class slot.

Elsewhere, a traineeship scheme for Radio 1’s Newsbeat is only to take black, Asian, mixed ethnicity or lower socio-economic applicants. 

This means applications from ambitious middle-class white girls — and particularly boys — would go in the bin. Fair enough, you might think. 

Perhaps it’s time for men to suffer and understand what it feels like to be marginalised, sidelined and overlooked just because of their sex.

Imagine how Emily Maitlis must have felt on discovering that fellow Newsnight presenter Evan Davis, a broadcaster not fit to clean her over-the-knee boots, was paid a third more for doing the same job.

Clearly there has been a gender pay imbalance at the BBC, just like the one in society. Maybe it is true that, for too long, power and equality were denied to women at the BBC. Yet certain kinds of privilege and bias still have their place.

Imagine how Emily Maitlis must have felt on discovering that fellow Newsnight presenter Evan Davis, a broadcaster not fit to clean her over-the-knee boots, was paid a third more for doing the same job

For Emily, Kirsty and Emma are a certain kind of BBC woman. Shiny of hair and blue of stocking, they are all good middle-class gels who went to posh schools (two of them fee-paying), then good universities.

Most importantly, I’ll wager they are all Left-leaning liberals with Guardianista sensibilities running through them. And if any of the trio isn’t a dyed-in-the-cashmere-wool Remainer, I’ll join the Brexit Betrayal March myself.

Which suggests BBC bosses are keen on diversification in all its forms, but only in areas where it suits them.

It would be impossible to imagine a Right-leaning, Brexit-supporting female broadcaster — Julia Hartley-Brewer, for example — even being considered for a Newsnight job.

And when I interviewed Sky TV’s Kay Burley recently, she said that as a working-class girl from Wigan who left school after her O-levels, she ‘didn’t have the right accent or education to work at the BBC’.

Have things changed? In every way, but also in no way whatsoever.

The broadcasting regulator Ofcom is reviewing the BBC’s news and current affairs output to ensure it remains relevant and trusted in the capricious, polarised and challenging world of multi-sourced news.

The new Newsnight team will give them much to ponder over. But in the meantime, let me stop you right there, as Emily would say, and ask: is one woman’s equality another man’s injustice?

Ade, you lazy lump, congratulations! EuroMillions winner deserves all the happiness his huge windfall will bring   

Middle-aged, overweight, sad owl face, lumbering dolt, usually Scottish. If it’s true that all lottery winners look like the same person and fit this particular profile, how come I haven’t won yet?

Despite ticking all the above boxes, yet again it’s not me, it’s him — Ade Goodchild, a singleton 58-year-old factory worker from Hereford.

No, Ade doesn’t hail from Scotland like most Lottery winners seem to. But in every other aspect, he seems to fit the stereotype perfectly.

He is corpulent, dazed, bears a slight resemblance to a giant thumb and, unusually, insists that his mega-win will change him. 

According to one report, EuroMillions winner Ade Goodchild never lifted a finger to do any chores in the house or work in the garden

Twice-married Ade scooped £71 million on the EuroMillions this week, a fantastic sum. His two ex-wives have already said they don’t want a share of his money. Good for them.

His first wife said it ‘couldn’t have happened to a nicer man’, while the second insisted that she is ‘happier without him’. Still, it is prospective wife No 3, whoever she may be, who will reap the lottery windfall.

Ade seems like the kind of lazy, useless husband any woman would be well rid of. According to one report, he never lifted a finger to do any chores in the house or work in the garden. Even after they were divorced, his second wife said she still had to go round and walk the dogs.

Yet Ade is self-aware enough to joke that he’s no more attractive now he’s a winner than he was before, but that his wallet is getting more than a few admiring glances.

He says he will look after members of his family and is going to spend the money on wine and women, then waste the rest.

Can you find it in your heart to wish him well? I do, I do, I do. 

Paul pogos to the bank: Court case reveals Clash punk rocker’s millions 

Back in the 1970s, the Clash were sexy revolutionaries whose punk music was thick with Left-wing ideology. 

The song White Riot urged alienated white youths to riot like their black counterparts; London Calling sent an apocalyptic message to strengthen the kids’ resolve before the onslaught of Thatcherism, boo.

Well, that was then. Now, Clash bassist Paul Simonon has won a £5 million legal fight with his second wife, who managed some of the band’s financial accounts. 

She wanted to change the terms of their original divorce settlement and sell her share of Clash royalties to an investment firm, but the judge ruled against her.

In the initial settlement, they each kept a London home, while sharing the cost of their sons’ education fees. The couple’s legal bills for the new hearing were more than £60,000.

‘You think it’s funny, turning rebellion into money,’ they once sang, the old hypocrites.

Next, you’ll be telling me The Who’s Roger Daltrey is a Tory-supporting Brexiteer.

A rare black-and-white print of The Scream, by Edvard Munch, will soon go on display at the British Museum.

How very prescient, for the painting seems to sum up the national mood over Brexit precisely. Head in hands, hair torn out, mouth open in a soundless yell of despair from the very marrow of one’s being.

Of course, debate still swirls around the famous image. Is Munch’s figure emitting a scream or listening to a scream? And is that scream real or psychological?

Who knows, but altogether now . . . aaargggh.

TV presenter Lorraine Kelly has won a big case against the taxman by arguing that she appears on TV not as herself, but as an entertainer

Awww, that’s fantastic! TV presenter Lorraine Kelly has won a big case against the taxman by arguing that she appears on TV not as herself, but as an entertainer portraying a super-cheery, empathetic wee character who doesn’t actually exist.

‘I am a McFake,’ is what she appears to be saying, but didn’t we know that anyway? Ms Kelly (above) told the tax tribunal she was an entertainer because she played ‘a version’ of herself on her ITV show. So the Lorraine Kelly who appears as Lorraine Kelly on Lorraine is not the real Lorraine Kelly but a theatrical construct.

She won her appeal against a £900,000 tax bill and £300,000 National Insurance demand. That’s the real drama. Take a bow, Lorraine, whoever you are.

‘When is the real Prince Harry coming?’ a schoolboy asked the Duke of Sussex during a visit to a London primary school.

Indeed! Over the past few months, as Harry has chuntered on about living the dream, shining the light, all the blades of grass and the raindrops and your ‘own true north’, it is a question I have often asked myself. Hullo clouds, hullo sky? Really, Harry?

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[himluv]

I mentioned in my weekly update that the trip to Cincinnati was… interesting to say the least. Now, I want to be honest. The Husbando and I had scoped out Cincinnati as a potential contender for relocation. We looked into best places to live for the cost and looked at the housing market and were pretty impressed. The next step was to visit and see how the city felt. Because on paper, things looked promising.

Well, I can tell you, after four days spent in the city, promising is not the word for it. Now, before anyone gets their knickers in a bunch, let me caveat this with the following: These are my feelings about Cincinnati. Mine. And mine alone. I know that I visited in early March, when winter still has much of the country in its frigid, deathly grip. This was intentional; I wanted to see the city at its worst, because if I still liked it, then I knew it would only get better with nicer weather. I stacked the odds against Cincinnati on purpose and kept that decision in my mind as we explored the city.

Guys. It didn’t do well.

There’s a lot to like in Cincinnati, don’t mistake me. The Newport Aquarium was a ton of fun and really well maintained. The Zoo was amazeballs (and yes, we got to see Fiona!), and the Cincinnati Museum Center is absolutely gorgeous. At all three locations there were field trips out for a day of learning and exploration and that was really cool to see.

Cincinnati also has a thriving craft beer scene. We had low expectations for this, since Oregon is sort of the Mecca for the US Craft Beer movement (seriously, throw a rock in Salem and you’ll hit a brewery or taphouse). The beers didn’t need to be better than home, just on par, which they definitely were. Also, oddly enough, sour beers seem to be very popular in Cincinnati, of which I had zero complaints. I love a good Berliner Weisse, and Nine Giants’ Save Ferris was probably the best I’ve ever had.

We also went to a crazy store called Jungle Jim’s, which my husband described as, “an international themed fever dream where you can buy some fresh fish, giant paella pan, scotch, and durian fruit in the same store while passing by a talking Campbell’s soup can that haunts you until you die.” We followed that up with a visit to the biggest fucking antique mall I have ever been blessed to visit. I bought an unconventional souvenir for my office and have zero regrets.

Talk about nightmare fuel…

The Findlay Market was cool, though with it being the off season it was just a fraction of how awesome it undoubtedly is in the spring and summer. That being said, we have farmer’s markets here in Salem, and Portland has a huge one. And Pike’s is only four hours away in Seattle.

And ultimately, that’s what it kept coming down to. Yeah, Cincinnati has cool stuff, but not anything that can’t be equalled by the Pacific Northwest.  So, when the cities are neck and neck, what breaks the tie?

People.

Now, PNW folks are notorious for being ridiculously, obnoxiously, frustratingly nice. They will stop six lanes of traffic to let you jaywalk. They will stop an entire interstate to save a lost dog. “Please” and “Thank You” have nearly lost all meaning because we all say them so automatically that half the time I can’t remember if I even said it. Sort of like flushing the toilet or locking the door, but for politeness.

I thought I was sick of it. I thought I was fed up with false kindness and the West Coast notion that customer service must infiltrate every aspect of your life. I thought I was done with it. And then I went to a bar in Cincinnati.

WTF is Burgoo and why was it so good?

Across the city, from restaurants to breweries to fast food chains to grocery stores, gruff and efficient is the rule. They don’t want to chit-chat, which I am fine with, but they also don’t want to smile or tell you to have a nice day or thank you for coming in. They do not want to acknowledge you beyond, “What do you want?” and “Do you want to start a tab?” or “Receipt?”

It shocked me. It disgruntled me. I felt immediately defensive and closed off. For the first time, I wasn’t so sure we’d be able to make friends in Cincinnati and I wasn’t sure that I would even want to. I already have great friends, and almost all of them live in Salem (Bolt, I’m looking at you, so hurry it up already and move back!).

Ultimately, nothing about Cincinnati made me want to dig up the roots we’ve grown here in Oregon and start all over again. Which we agreed on after only two days, which left us with another two days to explore and just enjoy the vacation!

Now, of course, not every person we interacted with was so closed off and unfriendly. There was a fabulous server at the Moerlein Lager House named Mikey, and another great server at 50 West Brewing (I can’t remember her name, sorry!). And the sweet guy at the counter of the Taste of Belgium stand at Findlay Market that forgot to give Trev his coffee and was amazed at how unworried we were about it. But the majority was… brusque to say the least.

We spent a day in Kentucky, meeting up with my husband’s aunt, which was a blast, and then we went to the Kentucky Derby Museum for a walk down memory lane for me, and a first time visit for Trevor. I was pretty emotional the whole time. The last time I was there was in 1995 when I went on a cross country road trip with my grandparents. My papa has since passed away, and though I don’t have many distinct memories from our visit to Churchill Downs there were just enough to keep my eyes moist at sharing this visit with my husband, whom my papa never got the chance to meet.

And while the people in Kentucky are beyond nice, come Wednesday, Trev and I were so so so ready to be home. So of course, that’s the day the Boeing 737 Max’s were grounded. And of course, that was the plane we were supposed to be on. What was supposed to be an arrival time of 10pm in Portland turned into 11am, with us spending 22 hours either in an airport or on a plane. My advice? Skip Chicago Midway if you can, and DEFINITELY don’t spend the night there. The only silver-lining on that was the hilarious native Chicagoan that sat at the bar drinking a Budweiser while we ate breakfast and shot the shit with us. He was hilarious and a delight. There will be inside jokes involving that guy for the rest of our lives, I’m sure.

And then we were home and I snuggled my dog and vowed not to leave the PNW for as long as I possibly could. Which is roughly a year since Southwest gave us two $100 vouchers for the whole 737 snafu.

So, the trip served its purpose. We went to Cincinnati to see if we’d want to live there. We very quickly decided no, and got a chance to relax and just enjoy ourselves for a few days. Other than the awful travel on the way home, I’d say that was worth it. Plus, I wouldn’t have found Melvin if we hadn’t gone!

There is no Tavern, and Moby Dick was published in 1851, but the inaccuracies only make me love it more. Hence the name, Melvin. 

Knowing that a cross-country move isn’t in our future has reinvigorated our enthusiasm for the house we do have. Old projects are resurfacing, especially as the weather improves, and I hope we’ll actually have our entertainment center built up by the summer and my built-in desk finished by fall.

Home is where you make it, after all. So maybe it’s high time we showed this house some love and focused on turning it into our home. This trip really helped me appreciate where I am and what I have, and the city I share with so many people I care about. It led to a reaffirmation for both of us, and I couldn’t be happier with that.

Because, let’s face it. I’m a West Coast kid, through and through. And that’s how it’s going to stay. At least for the foreseeable future.

  BZ

For a Midwest Minute I mentioned in my weekly update that the trip to Cincinnati was... interesting to say the least.

[smeffbaby-blog]

Month 11: Walkin’ and Talkin’

Sommer-

This past month: Time has flown by after the new year.  What a whirlwind full of milestones: Fiona standing on her own to taking a few steps recently!  We went to the zoo for the first time (thanks to some amazing friends who got us a year unlimited pass we will be going much more!), and I had my first overnight trip without her (I slept in till 8am but full on missed the heck out of her still).  The Neff’s came to visit because my sis is looking into TCU, so we also got some cherished family time in.  All in all an amazing month!  

Physical happenings: I am starting to feel normal again.  My tailbone is still bruised from labor, which I hear won’t go away for a while, and my hips sometimes still ache, but it gets better every day.  Women, we are strong!  I’m committed to doing some regular yoga practice once I take a break from work and really getting back to taking care of myself, and I can.not.wait.

Emotional happenings: With all the changes with Fiona, it reminds me of what someone once told me: you spend the first year helping them to not need you, be independent, and then the rest of their lives chasing them and needing them.  I feel like Fiona is on the brink of full on walking and then running, and I can barely keep up.  It’s the most beautiful, proud, and sad feelings at the same time.  She won’t be so little for much longer and every day is so precious.  

Galen

Looking back: This month was probably the first month in this journey where Fiona was not front and center. Sommer and I are both in the midst of major career transitions… after almost 5 years Sommer will be moving on from WiNGS and after over 7 years I will be moving on from United Way. It’s an exciting, crazy time and we are having to focus more on ourselves than we probably have before. Luckily, Fiona is also at an age where she is finding a rhythm. She almost always sleeps through the night, she takes good long naps (for the most part), and she is learning how to keep herself more occupied than ever before (the she has bouts of being super clingy as well).

As always, she achieved a bunch of new milestones and new experiences, including her first:

Solo day with Dad (Mom was in Houston)

Trip to the Klyde Warren playground (new favorite place)

Pair of walking shoes

Steps! Yes, she is up to 6 steps as of Friday!

Trip to Fort Worth to support her Aunt Rachu

Saying mama (usually when she’s distressed) and dada (usually at random)

First Women’s March (she’s a Nasty Woman)

Looking ahead: She turns 1 on March 4. What?! I can hardly believe it. Time really is flying, and at her current rate of progress she will almost certainly be walking all over the place by then. It’s a really exciting time for all of us. I’ll be starting a new job on March 2 at Communities Foundation of Texas. In many ways it is a dream job - more responsibility, management opportunity, and a chance to build new skills at a very well-respected foundation. It will be interesting to see how that affects work life balance. My goal is to make sure I draw clear boundaries and make sure I am still able to be an equal partner, especially now that Fiona is speeding up!