#and Web's voice over should have been done in similar fashion

[coffee-and-nap]

#david 'knows too much about everyone in this goddamn company for his own good' webster @lewis-winters​

My life is so hectic and my head is full of this kind of pure nothing

[tilbageidanmark]

MOVIES I WATCHED THIS WEEK (#191):

2 BY ELEM KLIMOV:

🍿 THE GROOM, my second film by Elem Klimov (after 'Larisa'). This is a sweet early film (1960) about a boy who helps a little girl pass a math test.

🍿 First watch: His tragic epic COME AND SEE (1985), long considered one of the greatest anti-war movies ever made. I'm not big on movies that deal with genocide, cruel atrocities and brutal suffering, so I avoided it until now, but the time had come.

"And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, "Come and see!" And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth."

It ranks as #41 on the ‘Sight & Sound’ 2022 list of ‘Directors’ 100 Greatest Films of All Time'. (There are still 14 on this list that I haven't seen, and I'm going to watch them soon).

🍿

BLADE RUNNER, THE AQUAREL EDITION was an obsessive labor of life project, made by one Anders Ramsell. He painted 12,597 aquarelle paintings of 'Blade Runner', shot by shot, and edited the entire film down to 35 minutes. it took two years of painstaking work, all done in his spare time after work each night. (Screenshot Above). The video made some impact on the internet in 2012, but after a while, all copies of it disappeared from the web. Now it suddenly re-surfaced again. For fans of the original Rick Deckard.

🍿

2 BY BRITISH DIRECTOR BENJAMIN CARON:

🍿 SHARPER is a new, old-fashioned and 'sharp' crime mystery with a changing prospective. It lays out as good of a 'Confidence Game' as Stephen Frears's 'The Grifters', David Mamet's 'The Spanish Prisoner' and David Fincher's 'The Game'. It starts building slow, and ends with a somehow-predictable conclusion, but the many twists along the way are done with verve and smooth hand. And now I want to continue on a bender with similar con-men and women. Where should I start?

For anybody planning to watch this, please approach it without expectations, and don't read anything about it in advance. 8/10.

🍿 The spectacular slight-of-hand in 'Sharper' is probably born out of director Caron involvement with British 'Mentalist' Derren Brown! He directed many of his filmed performances, f. ex. DERREN BROWN: ENIGMA. No idea how he does his impossible tricks!

I used to watch many of his "Magic" shows, and enjoyed him tremendously. I wonder why he's not more popular (except maybe in England). By now, he also posted 740 of his events on his YouTube channel, including this 2019 Ted Talk.

“Darren Brown walked, so that Derek Delgaudio could run…”

🍿

ZAMA, my second opaque, exhausting hallucination by Lucrecia Martel. Like her debut 'La Ciénaga', which is considered to be "the greatest Argentinian film of all time", it's a low-key, mysterious fable. A painful Kafkaesque period piece, a descent from dark helplessness to final hopelessness. A 18 century magistrate is suspended at a remote colonial post, waiting for a letter from his superior, hoping it will announce his transfer so that he can reunite with his family. But nothing good will happen to him. It's humiliating and poetically bleak. The trailer doesn't translate the ennui. [*Female Director*]

🍿

SOME DUDE NAMED JIM CUMMINGS X 3:

🍿THE LAST STOP IN YUMA COUNTY is a new, indie fun thriller, which could have been so much better, if its director was not so young. It has a stylized, powerful opening, telling of 2 Arizona bank robbers stranded in a desert diner with no gas in their car. It turns into a dark black-comedy after the first act, and ends with an all-out 'Mexican standoff' that leaves every single character in the movie dead (except of one crying baby). Gene Jones repeats his role as the Gas Station Proprietor from 'No country'. The best review I read was only 3 words: "Tarantino from Temu".

🍿 In FOLLOWERS (2023) two stereotypical LA-women meet randomly as they walk their dogs and start getting into each other personal lives. But maybe their chance encounter wasn't that random... It's seldom you encounter such super-irritating people, so unbearably-cringe from the very first uncomfortable line of dialogue. Their small time conversations and creepy mannerism were anxiety-inducing. [*Female Director*]

🍿THE LAST BRUNCH, directed by this Jim Cummings, is a terrible, cringey parody of Tim Robinson' "I Think You Should Leave" sketch, if you can imagine that. 1/10.

🍿

LOVE ME TONIGHT, my 2nd Rouben Mamoulian musical (after 'Silk Stockings'.) It opens with a creative sequence of a Parisian street as it wakes up to life, and it's from here that the song 'Isn’t It Romantic' originated [after which it re-plays it about 10 times...] But the class difference trope of a lowly tailor among the powdered-wig aristocrats, and fruity Maurice Chevalier as a romantic lead, were cheesy and conventional. 1932 was still pre-code, but already deep into the Great Depression, so Paramount dished out a fairy tale about princesses, and palaces, and footmen, where every door was 10-15 meter tall.

🍿

MARSHAL CURRY X 2:

🍿 I've seen his 'Street Fight' doc before, about Cory Booker's election. His THE NEIGHBOR’S WINDOW won the 2020 Oscars for short films. A New Yorker couple with 3 kids watch with envy their new neighbors across the street, having sex, and having fun - until they don't. Kind of like 'Rear window' for our times, but without the murder.

🍿 A NIGHT AT THE GARDEN featured powerful archival footage from February 1939, when 20,000 Nazi-Americans rallied in Madison Square Garden to celebrate fascism. It was produced by Laura Poitras and was offered without comment. In 2017, when it was made, it must have been revelatory to many, who didn't know about this before. The shock from Trump's ascent to power forced the world to realize that he did not invent his vile worldview, it's been there all alone.

🍿

My first political film by British Peter Watkins PUNISHMENT PARK [Also, definitely, my last one]. It's a 1971 mockumentary, done in a Cinéma vérité style, about two groups of counterculture types. One group is being hunted down in Death Valley by a fascist team of National Guards, and the other hippies are being tried in a makeshift kangaroo court for exercising "Un-American" values. On the background of the resistance to the Vietnam War, it's the 'Pigs' and the 'Establishment' vs. the liberals and the feminists. So the political bent had everything I believed in myself during that time: Radical, revolutionary, anti-capitalistic, pacifist. But as a searing piece of agitprop it was unwatchable: Didactic propaganda, amateurish, jerky, rambling, but mostly: boring. 1/10.

🍿

Not a huge fan of the Adam Sandler (I don't think I've seen half a dozen of his famous comedies over the years), but his latest stand up, LOVE YOU, was enchanting. Directed by one of the Safdie Brothers (I still did not finish their 'Uncut gems') it's sweet and laid back, with a stray dog running into the stage, lots of juvenile humor, and absurd stories, about blowing a balloon, a 1-foot man, Etc. The most enjoyable parts however were the funky musical bits, especially the Elvis Impersonator, and the brilliant Ode to Comedians which wrapped it up.

🍿

YouTube film essay pioneers 'Every Frame a Painting' is back! Everybody's favorite Tony Zhou (and Taylor Ramos!) posted a new essay THE SUSTAINED TWO-SHOT, and a trailer for their first film The Second! How exciting! When they suddenly stopped producing terrific videos 8 years ago, they penned a thoughtful 'Postmortem' piece (which included many samples of how they made them, included this The Spielberg Oner.) Looking forward for more.

This is in contrast to the average YT video by less talented essayists, for example, How Ralph Fiennes Perfected Amon Goeth in 'Schindler’s List'. I mean, it's all there, just not very good.

🍿

A BUNCH OF SHORTS:

🍿 FOR THE FIRST TIME is a 1967 Cuban documentary about a mobile projectionist who travels to an isolated mountain village and sets up an evening of cinema. They chose to show Chaplin's 'Modern time', the first movie that any of the villagers had ever seen. Some of them say that they have no idea what 'a movie' is. It's similar to the later Spanish drama 'Spirit of the beehive'.

🍿 BREAD (1918) is another tragic story of an unfortunate woman exploited by men because she's desperately poor. Like the Lois Weber's 'Shoes' that I saw recently, it too was made by a woman pioneer, Ida May Park, and like it, it was selected for the NFR, (even though only a 1/3 of it remained). [*Female Director*]

🍿 NELLY'S STORY is a sad German short about a little girl who locks her mom out of the house on her 9th birthday, as the mom tries to shoot an Instagram story of that celebration. Painfully personal... 8/10.

🍿 THE HERO (1994) is an award-winning Mexican animation about a man who sees a girl in a crowded subway station that he believes is trying to commit suicide. Dark Bill Plympton style.

🍿 MY DAD IS 100 YEARS OLD, my first art-documentary by Canadian Guy Maddin. It is more of an Isabella Rossellini homage, in that she wrote it and discusses her father's life and work. It made me want to see more of Roberto Rossellini movies, not necessarily Maddin's.

🍿

THROW-BACK TO THE ADORA ART PROJECT:  

Happy birthday, Adora.

🍿  

(ALL MY FILM REVIEWS - HERE).

[yolkyeomie]

Humanity of the Inhuman | Kim Sunwoo

summary — legends are meant for the wild fantasies of the dream world, but when one myth suddenly comes true, you find yourself tangled within its webs of reality.

word count — 4.8k words

pairing — sunwoo x female!reader (ft. x juyeon)

genre — college au, gumiho au

disclaimer — !! light mentions of death, blood, and injury !! this was supposed to be only three parts but because I’m tired I have to put the rest into a part 4 🙂☝🏽

part I | part II | part III | part IV?

I.

It’s been a week since you last saw Sunwoo in your house, and don’t worry it’s for a good reason. The gumiho didn’t just up and leave all of a sudden, he was a little too true to his word when it came to the nine tailed fox honor code.

He was simply doing what he set out to do in the first place: prove that Juyeon was a gumiho out to get you. Though seeing as it’s taken a week so far, there wasn’t a lot of information he was gathering.

It would get a little odd when you would walk into the mythology class the two of you shared and there was Sunwoo sitting in the very back. He wasn’t as close to the point where it would be suspicious but it was close enough to keep an eye on Juyeon. The awkward part was that sometimes you’d feel like the gumiho’s eyes were burning into the back of your head as well.

And yet despite his hard stare, Juyeon didn’t seem to notice at all. The first two days of Sunwoo spying on the two of you was uncomfortable but thanks to the boy’s kind nature, it was as if the gumiho’s presence disappeared completely.

You didn’t even hear the fox bead most of the time and that was your sure fire way of figuring out whether he was truly there or not.

“You wanna be partners?” Juyeon asked, closing the notebook in his hands and the class began to disperse around the two of you. “For the project I mean! Do you wanna be partners for… the project…?”

You thought about it for a moment, you always had a habit of just doing projects on your own ever since you were a child. While yes doing a project with a partner would make it easier and not as heavy of a load on you, you couldn’t stand working with others. There was always someone who decided to be the freeloader yet still got all the markers for the work. Plus, it was just faster to do it on your own.

But Juyeon is a good person, he’s been your class friend since you first stepped in the class. There was no reason for you not to believe he was a bad worker. “Sure why not,” you shrugged, “It would probably lessen the workload on the both of us and I’m sure you’ve got other things to do outside of campus.”

“How’d you know that?” He asked rather quickly, turning to you with rather curious eyes.

“I don’t know, you just seem like a busybody and a sociable guy,” you replied, giving him a half smile as he finally started to grab all of your belongings. “People like you have large friend groups and millions of extracurricular activities to keep themselves occupied.”

“Now I wouldn’t say I’m a busybody,” he tried to counter, his mannerism similar to those of a puppy’s as he spoke, “but you’re right, I do like to hang out with lots of my friends. Being around people is just… so much better than being alone.”

At those words you take a quick glance over toward where Sunwoo sat, though the gumiho was long gone now. If Juyeon liked hanging around people more than being by himself, it must have made it incredibly hard for Sunwoo to follow him around without looking suspicious.

You could just see it now, the gumiho trying to look as ordinary as possible as he practically chased down Juyeon and his abnormally large friend group. The boy lived in the dorms too so there was no way that Sunwoo was getting him completely alone. You almost giggled at the thought of the gumiho struggling.

“So where do you want to meet so we can work on the project?” Juyeon piped up, steering the conversion back to the project. Though the boy sounded a little too excited to be talking about it. “There’s the cafeteria on campus, a pretty decent coffee shop that’s nearby… oh and our homes! You know, my dorm will always be open to you. And Hyunjae will be more than happy to clean up around the place for you as well.”

“How about we just meet at my apartment for now?” You offered, standing up from your seat and urging him to follow suit.

“Really? You want me to go over to your house? Just me alone?”

You nodded your head, a laugh escaping your mouth as you replied,”I mean, yeah? It’s just a project and I trust you enough to—“

“—hey,” the two of you turned your heads, unsure on who was interrupting your conversation in such a fashion. Sunwoo stood behind the two of you with an almost amused grin, playing with his near fluffy hair with one hand and the other shoved deep into the university sweatshirt he wore. You thought he had left already, he must have blended in almost perfectly with his surroundings. “Let me join your group for the project.”

“Huh?” Both of you responded, different levels of shock exposed on your faces. Though Juyeon was the one who kept talking, “I’m sorry, but this is a solo or partner project. You’ll have to find someone else, I don’t know if we are allowed a third…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sunwoo assured them, giving Juyeon his signature mischievous smile. You think this is the first time that the gumiho has personally interacted with the boy in public. “I’m sure the teacher will be fine with it, aren't I right?”

You both turned to look at your instructor at the front of the class, but the glint of amber yellow amber in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you. The teacher was attending to another student, but took a moment to look up and toward the trio that was staring back at him. He smiled at the three of you before nodding his head, “he already asked about groups of three earlier, it’s fine with me! This whole class is either going solo or in pairs and he didn’t want to be alone so this can be a small exception to the rule.”

Juyeon nodded his head in understanding, turning to face Sunwoo again before giving him a compliant half smile. “Whatever authority says goes I guess. If Y/N is okay with it then…,” he glanced at you for a second and you nodded your head, not really wanting to hear the gumiho’s complaints later if you disagreed, “welcome to the group then. I’m Juyeon, by the way. You are…?”

“You can call me Sun,” he answered, replicating the same compliant expression Juyeon had as he introduced himself. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you.”

“If that’s all then I’ll be going now. I’ll call you about times to meet for the project,” Juyeon excused himself, turning to you with his kind gaze and giving you a proper goodbye before grabbing his belongings and making his trek out of the mythology class.

You watched him leave for a moment, making sure that the boy was out of the room completely before turning to the gumiho beside you. “So? A week of following him and he was just your normal human being wasn’t he? So now your next step is to invade his daily life to try and get dirt on him?”

“What I can say, he was a slimy guy to follow,” Sunwoo admitted, moving to sit on the table you had just used as a desk. “Not only am I doing this to keep my eye on him, but I’m also doing this because you willingly invited a gumiho to your house? Now you really need my protection.”

You rolled your eyes at his claims, beginning your own journey off the campus as you replied to Sunwoo, “I told you to prove to me that Juyeon was a gumiho and I still don’t have that information yet. Until you get solid evidence, I’m going to continue to trust him like I’ve done before I met you. Plus! He’s shown no red flags to me and I’m very good at catching red flags.”

“Red flags of human men maybe, but I’m telling you!” Sunwoo argued, following after you closely, “Juyeon is not of this mortal realm and nearly killed me.”

“If Juyeon nearly killed you, how did he not recognize you the moment you asked to be in our group?” You asked him, not only to antagonize the gumiho but because you had a genuine question on the matter.

“If I’m being honest,” Sunwoo thought to himself for a moment, “I don’t know. Just mentioning the sun part of my name should have at least triggered the fight in him, but he took it like a champ…”

“Maybe the gumiho that was chasing you and tried to kill you wasn’t Juyeon,” you suggested, stopping in your tracks and turning to him before he could give you his regular counterclaim, “maybe the gumiho that was following you was just using Juyeon’s appearance as a disguise? Can’t you guys shapeshift? It would make sense that the Juyeon you saw wasn’t the real one.”

Sunwoo only let out a deep sigh, not wanting to consider your words but the logic was a little too strong to just set aside. “That makes sense but… I just can’t agree. I know that Juyeon was the one who attacked me and is targeting you, I just have to find a way to prove it.”

II.

Why did you even offer your apartment to be the meeting place for the project? What type of rose tinted glasses were you hearing in order to make that type of decision?

Because of your horrible decision making, now you were sitting in your living room on the exact couch you nearly crumbled into when Sunwoo had kissed you not even a full week before except the gumiho wasn’t the one sitting next to you. It was Juyeon. Sunwoo was sitting on the floor in front of the two of you, his smug expression was enough to know the thoughts that were running through his head.

“Since the project is about gumihos, we can easily split this up into three parts,” the boy offered, unwillingly becoming the team leader since the unseen tension between you and Sunwoo had left you speechless, “one of us does the presentation, the other person finds images to add to the presentation, and then we split the research into two parts. I was thinking Y/N could do the presentation since you definitely have a better eye than me when it comes to decorating…”

You had practically cut out Juyeon’s voice in your head. You were a little guilty of doing so, but you couldn’t help it! Not when the gumiho’s mischievous stare was burning holes into your head and the memory of you and Sunwoo sharing an intimate moment on replay in your head. You can replay the situation almost scene by scene in your head actually, that’s how ingrained in your mind it was.

It just had been a very prevalent thought in your mind recently because Sunwoo was gone most of the time. But now he’s here, and so is Juyeon.

“I don’t think Y/N wants to do the presentation actually,” Sunwoo intervened, a foxish grin appearing on his face as he offered, ”I think she wants to do the research instead. It looks like she’s got some… things… on her mind.”

“What?” You quicked added, trying not to seem as disoriented as you actually were. “No— it’s fine. I can do the presentation. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Now that you mention it, Sun,” Juyeon nodded, a frown beginning to cross his features as he watched you, “Y/N… you do seem a little out of it.”

“Maybe we should do this another day… don’t we all want to be focused on our project so we can get a good grade? If someone is distracted, we might not do as well as we can do.” Sunwoo continued, lying straight through his teeth as he encouraged Juyeon’s kindness for you.

You wanted to stop him, you wanted to prove to both of them that you were perfectly okay, but that jingle of the fox bead within Sunwoo’s possession seemed to say otherwise. “Sure, let’s meet another day. How does the day after tomorrow sound? It’ll be right after class too.”

“I’m fine with that,” Juyeon agreed and Sunwoo only nodded in response. “I’ll text you the roles I think we should all have later so you can think about what you want to do in advance. Make sure you let Sun know too.”

You all exchanged goodbyes and wanted until Juyeon left first before sitting in complete silence. You were too ashamed of letting the past distract you and Sunwoo was simply enjoying the moment that he had created.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to go and follow him,” the gumiho exclaimed, rising off the ground and stretching his limbs. “What a busy day today has been. This is the most I’ve done in a while now… maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable just living here—“

You stop him before he can walk past him, your nails threatening to dig into his skin while the other hand is hovering over the conspicuously placed talisman you own. You felt Sunwoo’s skin crawl as soon as he noticed it and gave you his most innocent smile and big baby doll eyes. “Something the matter?”

“Find out if Juyeon is a gumiho, quickly.” You hissed at him, hoping the very obvious threat was getting through that thick skull of his. “Because I don’t know if I could spend another minute on this couch with him in my house knowing damn well we kissed because of your need to be proven right.”

“What can I say!” The gumiho gleefully responded, leaning down towards you and whispering, “being a gumiho makes me a really good kisser. Of course you wouldn’t forget it so easily.”

Sunwoo yelped as you nearly punched him, slapping the talisman onto his cheek and letting go of him. You watched the nine tailed fox grovelled in pain on the ground, wanting to snatch the paper talisman off but not having the ability to touch it in the first place. “Say that again and next time everything in the house will be covered in a talisman!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He begged, his true form struggling to tear itself out of his humanoid body. The talisman was doing its job trying to dispel and absorb the evil energy and Sunwoo was doing his best trying to keep himself from going into a withdrawal.

You couldn’t stand to watch him lay there in agony anymore. Sure it was funny for a few seconds since you got your revenge, but as time passed you noticed it was taking a lot more energy than you thought for him to keep himself stable. “Stay still for like two seconds okay? Even though that might be… a little hard for you but… whatever just— hold on!”

You drop to your knees in an instant and tear the talisman off like a bandaid, wincing on Sunwoo’s behalf as you watch him take the deepest breath he possibly could. The gumiho form of him seemed to dissipate almost immediately now that he has control over his power but it only made your mind wander.

If a small talisman months old could cause so much damage to him, you wondered how exactly he could go head to head with a gumiho of a nearly full fox bead. “You’re not like… hurt right? The talisman didn’t leave a scar or something because they looked like it hurt really badly.”

“I… really need that fox bead back.” He spoke in between breaths but that sentence gave you all the information you needed to know. The fox bead was probably the primary source of strength for gumihos, sure without it they were still dangerous but in a state like Sunwoo’s who said his was empty? You might have just reduced him to a killable state.

“I am… so sorry,” you apologized, taking the smallest step back as you watched Sunwoo get off of the ground. “If I knew you were that screwed without your original fox bead I would have never touched you with it. It’s my fault, seriously.”

The gumiho shook his head, “No, you’re fine, don’t worry. It’s the person with my fox bead we have to worry about. I don’t think I truly realized how badly of a situation we’re in right now. If I get proof that Juyeon is a gumiho and he catches me? There is no way you or me will get out of that situation alive.”

III.

And oddly enough, a week has gone by since that incident. No, not a week, a month actually.

You finished your project with Juyeon despite the fact that Sunwoo bailed at the last minute, and you've barely seen him since. He went charging after your mythology class friend to find his fox bead and gather the information you needed to prove his claims so he didn’t go far, it's just… been a moment since you’ve seen him.

You know for a fact that he’s still alive because every so often you’ll hear noises in your house while you're trying to sleep and hear the quite yet familiar tone of Sunwoo’s voice curse. But other than that? You don’t see him. Your life had gone back to normal as if you were never being hunted by a gumiho in the first place, as if you never met Sunwoo in the first place.

You did in fact get rid of that talisman though, just in case he came back and wasn’t watching his step.

“Maybe I just need to get out of the house,” you admitted to yourself, staring aimlessly at the ceiling of your room. “I don’t leave much anymore… Maybe Kevin wants to hang out or something?” You had to admit, you did not realize just how boring your life was outside of being associated with Sunwoo. Your days were nothing but wake up, go to class, come home, and repeat.

You reach for your phone amid the blankets folds, grumbling and mumbling to yourself only to grab a hold of it snatch it away from its prison. It was almost dead but that was your fault, you came in your room and immediately collapsed into the bedsheets without question. Where was your charger? Knowing yourself you probably left it in the living room without thinking, who would have known you were going to get up in the first place?

“It’s nearly midnight, Kevin is probably fast asleep by now,” you concluded, thinking about your words for a moment before a text appeared into your notification bar. “Oh, never mind.”

Though, it wasn’t the usual cryptic text you received from the boy. Actually it wasn’t Kevin at all, but it was Juyeon. The last time he had spoken to you over the phone first was when you blacked out after finding Sunwoo.

With your eyes glued to the bright white screen, you forced yourself out of the bed and practically leaped over to the living room to search for your charger with newfound energy. You reached over to flick the lights on but immediately backtracked when Juyeon started to call instead.

“Juyeon,” you start, trying to sound as normal as possible. “What brings you to my phone number tonight?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He questioned, his breaths sounding as though he was forcing them to be rhythmic and slow. You raise an eyebrow at his soft yet rather serious tone, this wasn’t a Juyeon you usually interacted with. “It’s… kinda important honestly.”

“Of course, we’re friends right? I mean… like class acquaintances… but friends nonetheless,” you agree and you might have mistaken his huff for a slightest scoff for a moment. You choose to point it out whether it was serious or not, “what's with that frustrated tone in your voice? Got an attitude or something?”

“No, no that’s not it,” he quickly countered, “it’s just that every time you say that we’re friends, you always have to mention the fact that we're just college friends. It’s a little bothersome sometimes.”

You raise a brow at his words, falling into the couch as you respond, “I mean… is that not what we are…?”

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and you patiently waited for the boy to give you a reply. Instead, he just jumped to the next topic. Typical conversation tactics of a man. “I have something for you and something to tell you, but it has to be done in person. It would feel right if it was over the phone. I was wondering if you would be free to come by the dorms sometime tomorrow?”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me in the middle of the night?” You teased, almost rolling your eyes at his decisions before answering him. “Sure, I don’t think I'll have any classes that afternoon so it should be fine.”

You could almost hear the smile on Juyeon’s face, “perfect! You have to come okay, no bailing out on me now. I’ll be waiting for you!”

You didn’t even bother answering him, slowly sitting up in your seat as goosebumps began to trail down your arms. “Y/N?” He questioned once he noticed your abnormal silence, “are you okay?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy didn’t even get another word out of his mouth before you hung up on him, staring out the window of your apartment and trying your best to withhold a scream that wanted to escape. There in the corner of your window stood a figure, glowing amber yellow eyes piercing through the glass and staring straight into your soul. Unfortunately for you, you knew that amber yellow tint a little too well from your mythology studies and first hand experience.

Now you were regretting throwing away that talisman.

Though the fear that crept up your throat like bile dissipated within a moment as the light jingle of bells rang in your ear. The fox bead must be nearby, if you can hear it ringing then that means the gumiho was in the area.

You did have to be careful though, just because you could hear the fox bead didn’t necessarily mean that it was Sunwoo. After all, you haven’t seen him for about a month now. Who knows what could have happened to him… but let’s not let dark thoughts cloud the mind, right?

“Sunwoo…?” You hesitated, inching ever so slowly toward the window. You had to be careful, just because you saw a pair of glowing eyes didn't necessarily mean it was the gumiho you had come to know.

The figure didn’t respond though, in fact it barely moved from its position at the window. You stopped in your tracks, ready to run to your room for safety, when it teetered to the side before falling out of the frame. A loud thud could be heard as they fell to the ground and you finally sprung out of your seat to check. Don’t worry though, you were still extremely cautious going about your next actions.

You cracked open the door just slightly, peering your eye through the crevice to scope out the area. You didn’t exactly give yourself enough room to look around though, just barely seeing the moon’s shine on the night sky.

You were just being cautious! What if you need a quick escape back into your house because a gumiho suddenly attacked? You did live alone after all, who were you going to call if you got into trouble? Definitely not the police. Would they even believe you if you said a nine tailed fox was trying to—

“You suck at being stealthy,” your body was pulled across the doorway as the door opened wide, not even giving you a chance to react before you found yourself outside of your apartment. You looked up with a nervous grin on your face to see Sunwoo towering over you. “I’m surprised you haven’t been taken in as a gumiho’s latest feast yet.”

“You’re back,” you stand up tall, completely disregarding the nine tailed fox’s statement to talk about something else. “Where have you been? I mean— I know where you’ve been, don't get me wrong. But you were gone for a month! Any longer and I think I would have forgotten about you completely.”

“I was doing my job was I not?” He smiled, though it wasn’t his usually mischievous grin plastered onto his face. In fact, he looked a little… strained.

The way he was leaning onto the door and holding it steady so he barely had to move a muscle wasn’t helping his case either. “Now I’m back to have a nice comfortable rest, I’ll probably leave again tomorrow though, you know… gotta catch the gumiho!”

“Hold still for me,” you demanded, reaching out for his shirt collar to inspect something .

Sunwoo swiftly dodged your hand, moving away like it was a bullet coming straight for him. “I said hold still.”

“Why? Do we have a problem or something?” The gumiho asked, grabbing a hold of your curious hand this time with his free hand as Sunwoo let out a shameless giggle. “Did you miss me that much? One month away and now you can’t get your hands off of me!”

“I’m not trying to be handsy,” you scowl, pushing the door with your foot and watching Sunwoo stumble about for the loss of his support before taking his shirt collar in your hand, “I can tell your bleeding through your shirt.”

He winced as the fabric skidded against his skin, revealing the very fresh and oozing red blood that was spilling out of scar on his neck. No, it would be undermining the damage if you simply called it a scar. It was more like a wound, a wound that was rich with fresh blood and scaling down from his neck down to his side… who knew how far down it went actually.

That was just one injury you had spotted, but there were probably countless scars and wounds that dotted his skin.

Each one seemed to be of such increasing severity that it was making you nauseous. “How long have you been like this?” You asked, letting go of his shirt to save yourself from a possible black out. You made sure to grab onto Sunwoo’s arm after, seeing as he barely had enough energy to actually stand on his own.

“You’ve been gone for a month, please don’t tell me you’ve been this badly injured for a month,” you demanded, “I know you’re this… this crazy mythical creature and what not but the severity of those wounds… it’s bad, Sunwoo, even worse than when I first found you. You need to go to a hospital.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” the boy tried to reassure you, “I’m a gumiho, remember? I’m going to heal much faster than a mortal ever could so there’s no need to go to a hospital—“

“Sunwoo! Look at yourself!” You practically screech, letting go of him and watching the gumiho cling into your door frame for support. “You are hurt, Sunwoo, heavily, from your neck down. Any sane person, mythical or not, would know that you need to get proper treatment and not rely on my poor first aid knowledge and your resortive abilities!”

“For the last time, Y/N, no means no. I’m not going, everything will heal if you just give me time.” Sunwoo begged, on the verge of throwing a fit like a child at your constant nagging. He leaned up against the doorframe and slid down it with his arms crossed, a pinch of annoyance struggling to stay hidden behind his attitude.

You have to physically hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around his neck and wringing him out like a wet towel. If his wounds didn’t end up killing him then surely you would end up being the gumiho’s demise. “Fine, can you at least tell me why you’re injured and when all of this… happened?”

Sunwoo glanced toward you, resting his head in his hands as he thought about your words for a moment. You can see the usual mischief in his eyes as he did, the audacity of the gumiho to think that he wasn’t going to share this crucial information with you is absurd. “I hope you’re not in love with Juyeon, Y/N,” he told you, his eyes shifting into that amber yellow tint, “because you’re about to get your heart broken.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to make of the gumiho’s words before it hit you. “Oh… you can’t be serious.”

[writing-fool]

mlqc | let’s hit rewind

What kind of videos would the MLQC guys make if they were YouTubers? I think this is a youtube!au, but to be fair, Kiro probably has a YouTube channel in canon. See it as you will? I won’t really talk about their life outside of YT/internet so you can decide for yourself whether this is an AU or not, and whether they’re a full-time YouTuber or not.

As always, enjoy, and requests are open!

Love,

R.

Warning(s): none

Victor

Victor probably has a cooking channel

scratch that. he absolutely starts as one of those Aesthetic™ cooking channels like Cooking tree, HANSE, Sweet The MI or Nino’s Home.

his channel is called Souvenir because he’s not THAT original you can’t expect everything from a man, people. 

he starts off doing these voiceless cooking videos, but after a voice and face reveal at 2 million followers where he cooks something for his followers as a thanks...well, who wouldn’t want more of that sultry voice and glorious face

currently has about 4 million subscribers

Victor’s channel is kind of comparable to Junskitchen, a rather relaxed, casual atmosphere combined with exquisite, refined cuisine

if he feels like it, he does a voice-over, otherwise he just puts calm jazz, blues or r&b over his cooking

HAS done an ASMR special. low-key dislikes the video because he has to whisper voice-overs but people LOVE it

likes making all kinds of foods, but his channel features quite a lot of sweet foods and desserts because a certain dummy has a sweet tooth

a pretty popular feature during quarantine is Cooking w/ Sou, essentially a live stream where Sou (aka Victor) cooks a whole three-course meal while talking to and instructing his followers

his subscribers notice that he doesn’t really need editing to look clean during cooking because his technique is IMMACULATE

by the end, he’s made a themed dinner for two...which always raises a question mark

is Sou single? does he have a roommate? a girlfriend? a kid? WHAT?

after getting your explicit permission, Victor addresses the situation in one of his recent Q&As

“Why do I always make dinner for two? I have a fiancée, she edits my videos in her spare time. She works as a producer. *you wave your hand over the lens* Dummy.” he breezes over it like it’s no big deal even though he’s a tad nervous about exposing something personal like this

his fans blow up the internet, baffled but not entirely surprised that someone like Sou isn’t a bachelor

of course, some leave hate under the video honestly, people who do this to celebs who start dating are HORRIBLE

most subscribers are super supportive of your relationship and thank you for the editing that makes Souvenir such a well put-together channel...also did he seriously call his fiancée a dummy? such a tsundere!

sometimes, you’ll (well, your hands...we’re keeping a bit of privacy here) even be in the end shot of videos, munching away at the carefully plated food

one day, Sou will be making a video titled Wedding Cake.

Lucien

Lucien’s channel LucidLight is a tad bit all over the place

he’s a man of many talents, and his channel reflects just that

i’m not saying it’s a disorganized channel, because the theme is very much there - the uniform theme in Luci’s content is a cozy background, a cup of tea and a soothing thumbnail

i mean that content-wise, his subscribers don’t really know what they’re going to get next...he has a slightly similar style to the YouTuber simon plant 

his content varies from interesting science theories to poetry reading sessions to ASMR to painting/sketching to cooking and much, much more

he has an heavenly soothing, smooth voice. it’s his trademark since Lucien doesn’t show his face on camera. ever. 

doesn’t have a TON of subs, because his channel is a bit of a niche thing, but I’d say he has 1,2 million subscribers and 400k followers on his added ‘business’ Instagram

he holds a lot of live streams on Instagram/YouTube (i know Moments exists in the game, but that’s more like a Facebook or Twitter kind of app...) and is always shown with just his torso and neck in frame. the lives usually include some poetry reading and generally just having a nice, relaxing chat with his followers. they can last up to 5 hours at once, and YOU know it’s because he doesn’t need sleep like a normal human being, but his fans are still asking questions about his timezone

his subscribers are strangely fascinated by his mysterious, gentle nature and also incredibly obsessed with his large, elegant hands

his ASMR videos are often roleplays of Librarian Lucien or Professor Lucien explaining to people why their rest is important

other times, they include soft affirmations, positive whispers, finger fluttering, hair touching and maybe kissing sounds...

Lucien paints a lot too, although he works primarily with ink and pencil sketches. you’ll find a watercolour or oil painting somewhere, but they’re not his most prominent media

his art videos are usually silent, although he might say something once in a while. there’s always some type of solo instrumental music playing in the background.

he does educational videos about biology and universe theories, but will also have reading sessions about scientific books

not intentionally secretive about your relationship, but he’s not one to mention it either

the first time you appeared on screen was when he was doing another live stream. he’s in his office talking about a play, when you come padding in to bid him goodnight.

“Yes, indeed. Laura’s glass menagerie, as the play suggests, is a symbol of fragility. Laura herself is very frail, but her favourite—”

“Good night, darling.” your soft voice rings through the room. viewers see Lucien’s torso turning a little bit, a hand on his shoulder and a curtain hair appearing from the top of the screen. his hand moves, presumably to cup the person’s cheek, before a soft kiss is heard through the mic. “Sleep tight, my love,” he murmurs.

“Ah. Laura’s favourite glass figurine is the unicorn, which...”

people are in uproar, but Lucien is a strong-willed man who refuses to explicitly announce the nature of his relationship.

his subscribers stop asking after a while, because it really isn’t any of their business, and they now know Lucien’s a taken man

you kind of appear on live streams accidentally a couple more times, but nothing’s really changed about Lucien’s content

the only thing he WILL say, and this is purely to give you credit, is “Ah. The background instrumentals in my art videos are played live. Yes, my lover’s very talented.”

you guys are the mysterious, talented, soft-voiced power couple of YouTube

Gavin

Gavin’s channel probably starts as a joint channel with you, something like Rachel and Jun

it’s relatively obvious from the start that Gavin from Birds&Cops is in a relationship, since you guys have a vlogging-style channel

your channel is filled with gym vlogs, travel vlogs to other countries and a lot of self-defence and sport at home videos. 

you guys also post a lot of funny vlogs talking about your day, going on fun dates, of course food vlogs in restaurants, all that stuff...

you often sit down and talk about your life, and maybe you’ll even do a mukbang during it for someone so fit, Gavin does eat a lot of food. 

Gavin’s channel didn’t blow up right away, because vlogging channels aren’t exactly unique, and he looks like the typical ‘straight boy with a girlfriend’

but he started gaining followers after people noticed how cute and blushy he acts, and how incredibly respectful and caring he is towards you

one of the most popular videos is Boyfriend Does My Makeup and it’s adorable. Gavin’s handling your face with so much care, and comments like “I know what this is, I’ve watched you do it many times.” or “Babe, does it hurt? Should I be more gentle? I’m sorry...my hands are rough.” make everyone SWOON

toxic masculinity left the chat. Gavin loves taking care of you in any way, whether it’s getting pads, chocolate and hot packs during your period or braiding your hair

in those yoga/celebrity fitness routine challenges, subs get to see Gavin in a tight singlet and sweatpants/shorts, and it’s HOLY

you’re very much aware of the attention Gavin receives from female fans, and how lucky you are to have found such a sweet partner

Gavin will usually see this type of comment while scrolling and will turn to you and go “Babe, you know I’m the lucky one here, right?”

anyways, a feature that you do to show fans the extent of Gavin’s sweet personality is Pranking My Boyfriend, where you set up the camera for a harmless prank like pretending to have a nightmare (similar to channels like Farina Jo)

that particular video was so fun to shoot, because it ended up with Gavin softly singing a lullaby to calm you down in his arms

“Baby, wake up. I’m here, you’re safe.” Gavin knows how to deal with panicking people, but he hates this prank afterwards because ‘he didn’t like seeing you in pain’

fans squealed. Birds&Cops gained like 50k subs through that video. the channel’s currently at 999k subscribers

overall, it’s just a really lovely, family-friendly channel

Kiro

Kiro knows his way around the web, alright?

not even just as Key, but he’s had a YouTube channel since the age of 15

his channel, CtrlAltChips is a hit with many people of many, many ages

he streams gaming sessions on Twitch and posts them on his YouTube channel afterwards

other content includes (primarily) covers & original songs, simple talking videos, thrifting & fashion videos, mukbangs and candid dance videos in a studio

think of chloe moriondo, doddleoddle, Victor the Drum Destroyer and Cat Strat

alternatively, for the ARMYs here, think of Jeon Jungkook as a YouTuber

Kiro has about 18 million subscribers, which is A LOT, but he’s been on YouTube for 7 years and he’s made a name for himself as a super likeable and bubbly guy with an angelic voice and killer moves

you’d think he’s just a cute boy when he sings acoustic covers, but his dance moves suggest that he’s not THAT cute

also how does he stay so fit with all those snack mukbangs?

he has a segment named In Our Kloset where he talks about social issues (because our boy uses his platform for good) around the world while customizing (not just pins. we’re talking patches, sewing, painting, embroidery) thrifted clothing to his liking. at the end he holds a little fashion show with his new outfits

after a while, you’ll see many of his outfits in giveaways or on sale for charity. Kiro tries to give back to his fans as much as he can, and how better than by sharing a piece of his unique clothing with them?

a great singer and performer. has held actual concerts before and has an actual music career (author-nim leaves it up to you readers to decide whether this is his idol career or some other musical project)

keeps his private life PRIVATE. he knows how the internet works, and he knows there’s no way he can keep your relationship a secret forever, but he’s not about to expose it to the world because of that reason

keeps tabs on information or rumours regarding you and makes them vanish

he’s simultaneously the most open and the most secretive out of the four boys. his fans know his favourite colour, what type of underwear he wears (trunks. Kiro wears trunks.), his birthday,...

but they know nothing about his past, his location, his close social circle or his family (teeechnically he’s an orphan but ig we’re talking about his mentor here. the blood of the covenant blah blah blah...y’know?). Kiro protects his loved ones fiercely

for someone who’s kept so secret, you’re actually really involved in Kiro’s virtual persona. you’re usually behind the camera during his In Our Kloset videos and are in charge of extra research regarding topics so he doesn’t spread any misinformation 

you also give pointers during filming (of course, these bits are edited out) because Kiro tends to trail off and get distracted when sewing

another way you’re involved is setting up the food during mukbangs. you have a great sense of aesthetics, so all of his videos in general will go through you.

while you like being low-key in Kiro’s life, you don’t want him to feel like he has to protect you from all the hate. 

he doesn’t particularly love keeping you a secret either, and it makes him feel guilty because he doesn’t want you to think he’s ashamed of you. he could never be.

you guys give it a good chat over how you’re going to announce it, and he just ends up making a video titled Miss Chips where the two of you sit down and talk to the camera

“Hello my little chips! Uhm, as you can see, there’s someone sitting next to me today. Maybe you already guessed from the title, but this is...my girlfriend, Miss Chips,” cue the cute jazz hands in your direction, “We’ve been dating for a long, loooong time, right, Miss Chips?”

“I just wanted to share this with you guys, since it felt wrong to keep such an important person in my life private. I hope you’re all kind to her, because I love her dearly, even to the point of giving up my snacks...so it’s serious.”

it really is that serious, hm?

Hope you enjoyed reading! 

[i-growl-growl-growl]

How Ateez would be as Yanderes?

Hongjoong Version

sadistic, possessive, clingy, delusional, manipulative

Cold, cruel, calculative and crude don’t even begin to describe the dark soul of this demon in disguise notoriously known as Hongjoong. Sweet to look at but poisonous to taste, this yandere seems to be one of those typical ‘cowboy casanovas’ that you hear about in songs that one needs to stay away from or face being torn apart and broken down by while in his hands.... except he’s 1000x worse than that when he really has his eyes set on someone special. Hongjoong is definitely a ride or die man stuck in his sucker-punching devilish ways with a hard cracking personality and intricately delectable mindset whose intelligence spins the ever evolving, tough to escape web that traps any and everyone who captures his attention. He knows what he wants and what he wants he gets.

This man is easy to spot and hard to forget once one has laid eyes on him even if only once. He stands out with his unusually stylish black noir fashion sense that cops him out as an elegant, mysterious, intelligent, and unattainable being. Not only does his sense of fashion, and general attractiveness, catch everyone’s attention but also his way of speech. Like a fine wine with a sweet taste and smoothness that eases the flow of the liquid as it moves its way down your throat, Hongjoongs way with words, one similar to that of a high class, vendetta seeking prince, can draw anyone into deep conversations with him that always leave those in his presence seeking more from him once time has deemed that his conversations must end. 

No one knows his true personality or profession but many have heard rumors, some of which fit his exotically dark but intriguing aura. A heartless mobster, an assassin or a detective are just a few only the list of many that those who wish to know more about him suggest he falls under when it comes to debating his true personality and work life.                  Only his darling will ever truly know who Hongjoong is as a person and what they come to learn and live with is far worse than any assumptions that other have of him. In a sense he is all of the above but he directs those traits and lifestyles towards taking and taming his ‘sweet one’.

Be careful if you find yourself beholding the presence of this demon in an angel’s vessel for, if you forgo any warning to stay away, you shall find yourself in a place of entrapment, servitude, and suffering like no other by the hands of Hongjoong who, once he has you fully in his grasps, will never et you escape.

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

The dining guests set to partake in tonight's meeting are quite the perplexing bunch. There are a few usuals that Hongjoong easily spots from the corners of his eyes as the hoard of diners arrive on a timely manner. All dressed to the utmost degree, one looking in from the outside would deem all participants to be snobbish aristocrats with money on their mind and self-indulgence familiar to their names. For most this is true as Hongjoong is unfortunately aware but even he himself falls within that category of vile beings to a certain degree so he keeps his ‘whipper snapper’, silver tongue to his lonesome self as his judgemental eyes dart to every being who struts into the room while wearing diamond studded heels or golden brooch encrusted vests.

None of these guests catch his fancy. Hongjoong isn’t here just for the meeting, no, tonight he wishes to set out on indulging his desires to find a new toy to play with, one whose screams wouldn’t be matched and whose blood would flow with a glint of ruby red among the dark otherwise maroon shade. Hongjoong has had many a victim before but none have pleased him as his mind wishes them to so, what was he to do but to be rid of them and search for another?

Familiar with the ways that the selfish rich crumble so easily, Hongjoong easily crossed off the vast majority of those who’ve presented themselves for the meeting tonight. His last victim was the daughter of one particular participant whose name he has never cared to remember, the man sitting kitty-corner from him. Hongjoong was least pleased with his daughter and her constant begging, her cries had been deemed inharmonious and her croaking voice annoyed him to the very core. her beauty was what had drawn her to him as a victim but nothing else of her fit his high standards once he had her to himself. She had only lasted a week before Hongjoong could no longer handle the sight or sound of her, so he did as he usually does and filled her grave as she remained screaming within it until fully covered and patted down.

Although left displeased with his recent victim, Hongjoong could, however, admit that he was basking in the stressed aura of her father who sat near him. Hongjoong enjoyed raking his eyes over the man who could barely hide his distraught form while in the presence of other elites. Hongjoong enjoyed the knowledge that, although here for an official meeting, the man’s mind was otherwise elsewhere, wondering where his precious daughter had gone to and what has become of her..................................................

If it wasn’t for a new figure making their way into the dining room catching his attention then Hongjoong probably would’ve spent the night delving in the pleasure of the man’s suffering.                   Hongjoong’s eyes fell upon someone who was unlike the rest that currently stood or sat around the room chatting with those nearby. The new figure was grossly unlike the rest with their middle-class status evident in their poorly kept, wrinkled up clothes. The way this new figure stood stiff and kept their eyes to the floor except to find a free chair for them to sit in at the table and the way that they seemed to not know anyone else within the room was evidence enough that they simply didn’t belong here compared to the rest. Hongjoong knew instantly from the sight of them and the presence of their weak aura that they were someone to keep in mind and get to know. He hadn’t even met them yet and he could already tell that they had exactly what he was looking for in regards to what he desired from his next victim. Hongjoong knew that those of the lower class were far stronger and fiercely willed than those of the elite class so you’d put up a fight that Hongjoong craves and braking you down would be a joyous feat to venture towards.

Leaving his typical spot at the table to sit across from you, Hongjoong pulled out the charming gentleman within him that always suckers people into falling for his traps. With hypnotizing eyes staring deep into your soul, it was quick to catch your attention. Without even a single word spoken, he raises his glass, you doing the same without realization. “What a pleasure to behold the finesse of such a beautiful person such as yourself. Please do tell me darling, what is your name? I would like to know it so that I may address you properly during our conversations tonight and within the future.”

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

I hate the middle-end of the scenario section of this profile but I felt like I should get this done since it’s been in drafts for far too long.

I hope you enjoyed.

~Savie

[tommysparker]

Good For You

Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: I dunno how I really feel about this one...but there will be a part 2! Inspired by “Good For You” from the musical Dear Evan Hansen, give it a listen and enjoy :)

Warnings: just pure angst, reader is disappointed but not surprised, and also # done

Six times. 

Six times he’s canceled plans last minute. 

And that’s just this month, so far. 

You were happy for him, honestly, you were. But had you known his newfound fame would have cost you hours of waiting, hours of your life that you will never get back, just to end up looking like a fool as you leave the restaurant, you probably would have re-thought some decisions. 

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, leave a--”

You sighed in frustration, tossing your phone and keys on the couch as you kicked off your shoes and shut the door to the apartment. Thankfully, your parents weren’t home so you had time to release some stress and anger. 

Dropping yourself onto the cushions, you grabbed the TV remote and pressed the on-button, hoping some good ol’ fashioned Disney Plus would take your mind off tonight’s events, or lack thereof. However, the television network had other plans. 

Sure enough, there was your boyfriend, dressed head-to-toe in that stupid red and blue spandex costume standing next to the great Tony Stark, who wore a regular suit and that signature smile the public adored. 

Really? He ditched me to hang out with some tech billionaire? Is what you would’ve thought, however, you were used to it at this point. The first few times you felt disappointed, but now all you saw was red. 

You turned off the TV, throwing the remote aside and grabbing your phone, hoping to see at least one message from your once adoring lover, but you were met with an old picture of you and him that you set as your lockscreen. 

With a heavy sigh, you went into your room and decided to catch up on all the homework you’ve been ignoring. What better way to distract yourself than with memorizing calculus formulas? 

The only text you got that night was from your parents telling you they’ll be home late. 

                                                       ---

The next day at school, you completely avoided Peter at all costs. 

Peter was beyond confused. 

He had gotten home late last night after spending hours with Mr. Stark teaching him the new customs of his suit and later going back to the lab to fix some minor bugs. 

When he came into school this morning, he was hoping for the usual bear hug you greet him with when he walked over to your locker. However, by the time he got there you were already gone. Betty, whose locker was right next to yours, said you went to class early to talk to the teacher. 

He shrugged it off, figuring he would catch you in between classes. 

But he never did. 

Every time he tried to talk to you, you would run off or ignore his callings. He thought maybe you were just having an off-day, you’ve been having a lot of those recently. 

By the time lunch came around, he knew something was wrong. 

No matter what mood you were in, you always made sure to sit next to him in the cafeteria, so when you didn’t show up at all, he had a feeling it was more than just an off-day. 

He didn’t see you for the rest of the school day. 

                                                        ---

You were done. Absolutely done. 

You woke up that morning ready to deal with whatever bullshit excuse Peter was gonna throw at you, but as you entered the school something inside you just snapped. 

Maybe it was because one of your friends were talking about the amazing date they had, or maybe it was because you were tired after waiting for Peter to swing by your window and apologize for missing another date then end up passing out on the window sill, but either way, you were done. 

You dodged Peter the whole first half of school, ditching after lunch because you weren’t ‘feeling well’.

The rest of the day you spent curled up on your bed, listening to music that related to whatever emotion you were feeling. 

You glanced over at the clock, seeing school would’ve been out about half an hour ago. Picking up your phone you texted MJ asking if she was down to go out later. You were supposed to be having a movie night with Peter but if he could skip your plans dozens of times, why couldn’t you? 

A ding followed by your phone lighting up took your attention off your laptop. Picking up your phone, you were hoping it was MJ accepting your invitation, and thankfully, the bookworm didn’t fail to please. 

A few hours later, you were almost ready to go out, when a loud knocking sound came from your window. 

Startled, you whipped your head towards the glass, and behind it stood non-other than your boyfriend. 

Did you forget to tell him you canceled? Whoops. 

Rolling your eyes, you opened your window and stepped back so he could come in. You were still upset with him, but that doesn’t mean you were about to make him wait outside when it was near zero degrees. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m late Mr. Stark wanted to test this cool new web settings and we kinda lost track of time but I got your favourite food to make up for it- oh are we going somewhere instead?” Peter tilted his head as he took in your outfit. Normally on movie nights, you’d welcome him wearing a pair of comfy pants and his hoodie. However tonight you were dressed in jeans and a top he hadn’t seen you wear before. When did you go shopping? 

“Yeah-no. It’s just me going, MJ should be on her way right now. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” you shrugged, walking back to the mirror to finish doing your hair. 

“Wait- what do you mean? What’s going on? It’s movie night...” The vigilante expressed, trying his best to mask the disappointed look his face fell into. 

“Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, right? Just like all the times you’ve made it up to me.” You snapped, sarcasm laced with your words. 

Peter could sense something was wrong, your tone and the look in your eyes being a dead giveaway. “What are you talking about, Y/N?” 

“I dunno Parker, why don’t you tell me. Because I have been stood up too many times this month and honestly, I’m sick and tired of your empty promises,” You huffed, turning around to face him with your arms tightly crossed over your chest. 

The brown-haired boy was baffled. “Look if this is about last week, I told you I’m sorry. You know how much being Spiderman means to me--”

“--More than it means being with me?” 

Peter’s facial expression made it seem like the question slapped him in the face. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

“Um for starters, you’re always ditching me to go play superhero with a billionaire. Every time you tell me you’re gonna make it up to me, you never do! Yesterday’s date was supposed to make up for the one you missed last week, and that one was supposed to make up for the one you missed two weeks prior! I’m seeing a pattern Parker and I don’t like it.” 

For some reason, his ears fell deaf to everything you said except for the mention of his alter-ego. “Playing superhero? Really Y/n? I’m saving lives! I’m making a difference here. I have these powers and if I don’t use them, and bad things happen, that’s on me. You have no idea the kind of responsibility I have. Besides, you should be happy for me! I’m better than I’ve ever been before. Don’t you get that?”

You bit your lip, fighting back tears. “Yeah, I guess you're right. Well...I’m sorry I don’t fit into your responsibilities.” 

“What? No that’s not--”

“I’m not done yet! You got what you always wanted, right? Your dream is now a reality, well good for you, Parker. I’m happy for you, really I am. I just wish you would’ve told me that dream didn’t involve me so I didn’t waste my time loving you,” You spat. 

“Wait, Y/N please--!”

“I mean, are you even sorry?” You cut him off again. “‘Cause you say it all the time but you never act like it. The Peter I knew would’ve put everything aside in order to right a wrong, but you, you just worry about yourself.” Yes, that was a low blow, and far from the truth, but in the heat of the moment you could hardly control the words coming out of your mouth. Months of pent up frustration being released kinda broke the filter. 

Peter looked like a kicked puppy, he tried to say something but you kept ranting. 

“When was the last time you hung out with Ned? Or had a real conversation with May? All of us are hurting, Peter. We’re your friends, your family. And all you do is jump the fence over to “Mr. Stark’s” at the blow of his dog whistle. But, hey, if that makes you happy then fucking good for you. I guess if I can’t give you any fancy tech, o-or ‘understand your responsibility’ then go ahead and cut me loose. No, really, I won’t mind--”

“Stop it! Just stop, please!” He had tears running down his face, similar to your own. He took a shaky breath, wiping away the tears roughly before giving you a heart-broken look. 

You stared back, shoulders shaking and eyes red. You sniffled, pointing a shaky arm to the window. “Get out.” It was quiet, a huge contrast to the previous volume of your voice, but suddenly the energy was drained from your body, mentally and emotionally. 

Peter left without a word or hesitation. 

You walked to the window, swaying slightly as you watched him swing off into the distance. 

So you got what you always wanted, live with the consequences. 

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Again....not ecstatic about this turned out but hoping part 2 turns out better :/

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything

Peter Parker: @rubberducky-jrr 

[loneswaggingranger]

Does it matter?

By @loneswagger for @pixiethefirecat7

This is for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Bruce Banner, May Parker

Summary: 

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched away from him. 

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.” -

The one where Tony Stark lives with a metal arm, Steve Rogers never became old, and Peter Parker baffles at how incredibly fine they make everything seem. Or, the one where Peter Parker becomes Tony's designated spokesperson. Seriously, what would they do without him? (Nothing, apparently.)

Story under the cut! Hope you like it~

Does it hurt?

*

He once found Tony shirtless and utterly wasted in the lab, drowning in a sea of one too many shattered decanters, knuckles gone white from wringing that outdated burner phone for who knows how long. Crimson dribbled from calloused palms across scarred flesh, to ripped jeans over to  shimmering glass shards littered upon sullied floors. 

When Peter reached forward and called his name, Tony honest-to-god flinched. 

His fingers twitched. “Captain Rogers did this, didn’t he?”

Hard brown eyes snapped shut. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter said, kneeling softly beside the hero’s battered form. “It does.”

*

When Peter came home, he expected many things. He expected his dingy little apartment with the wafting smells of May’s burnt bread, imagined snuggling on the couch with her, and watching cheesy soap operas all through the night. He expected those weekly sessions with just him and Mr. Stark in the lab, planning, tinkering and innovating without a care in the world, positively shining whenever Mr. Stark whistled and said, “You got brains, kid.”

He should have known, expectations rarely matched up with reality.

Said notion found him in front of his lunch one day, mumbling, “Nothing makes sense anymore.”

 “Oh?” A tilted look of concern.

“I just- I never expected this, y’know?” Peter twirled a fork aimlessly between his fingers, eyes trained so hard on his meal he thought it might start sizzling soon. Or evaporate into dust. Whichever seemed possible at this rate. “It’s not bad, I mean, you have a great family and an actual kid now- which is totally cool, by the way! And May - May has Happy now, so the apartment's not that empty anymore, a-and she smiles a whole lot more these days. Which is good, I guess. The Accords isn’t even a legit thing anymore, the Avengers come together to sing Kumbaya every other weekend,” His fingers tightened round the fork. “Everything’s all good, yeah?”

There probably would have been a reply, if it wasn't for the tell-tale thump of approaching footsteps Peter never dreamed of growing familiar with.

“Afternoon, Captain Doritos,” Mr. Stark’s drawl felt appeasing at best, challenging at worst.

Captain Rogers threw a half-glance his way, nodding curtly. He went for the fridge in two large strides, swiping out a carton of milk and downing its contents in one vigorous go.

“Ugh, you’re gross, Cap, I’m getting the hell out of here,” Mr. Stark rose from his seat, lightly tousling Peter’s hair as he went. “Finish your grub and hang in the lab with me later, yeah?” His eyes seemed to soften. “It‘ll be just like old times.”

 Old times. Right.

“Also-” Mr. Stark slapped the good Captain’s shoulder, smirking wildly at the vexed ‘Oi!’ that elicited. “If we’re watching anything remotely Disney tonight, I’m going back to Pep’s for the weekend.” 

“For that alone, we’re watching Moana, Frozen and Mulan!” Captain Rogers hollered after the retreating metal middle finger shot high in the air, shaking his head once it fully disappeared down the hallway. A bemused look. “What’s wrong with Disney?”

Peter scoffed, grin plastered expertly on his face.

Another thing that didn’t make sense, this song and dance. This parade of concealed emotions, this system of tactical meet-and-retreat, this exhibition of faux jaunt put up for one another. The shake in Captain’s tone, the tremor in Mr. Stark’s arm - almost indiscernible and yet there it was. Always there, each time Peter looked.

Captain’s carton of milk slid into the bin by his feet. “So how was your week, son?”

Peter chewed on his noodles thoughtfully. “Tiring, I guess. Lots of homework. Also-” He made a face. “Son? Seriously? How nineteen-thirties can you get, Cap?”

Captain rolled his eyes, mock indignance in his stance. “Great. I have to deal with two Tony Starks in the team now, don’t I?”

“Exactly,” Peter smirked, drawing out the last syllable slightly.

*

He remembered piecing uncharacteristically silent calls with his own incessant chatter, so that the harsh breaths pulsating on the other end would finally, finally smoothen out. He remembered resting a hand over Tony’s arrhythmically flouncing heart, coaxing him for a meal, a drink or to just breathe. He remembered whispering to him in a voice so soft yet so firm, “Mr. Stark? Mr. St-Tony? Tony, it’s me. It’s Peter. No one else is here, okay? You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

He remembered the world of hurt his hero went through.

*

It wasn’t like Peter never asked. 

He tried asking during the quiet moments, when he and Mr. Stark were the only ones up at ass ‘o clock, when Mr. Stark strolled into the kitchen for customary morning tea (Pepper said weekends were coffee-free days). He tried asking during the loud ones too, when Mr. Stark was drunk on whatever alcohol he was having, when all the Avengers were in the room, because surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to brag about a good story in front of everyone, right? Wrong. That particular fiasco ended with more than a couple uncomfortable looks, a pale-faced Mr. Stark storming out of said room and a flustered Peter trailing after him with his dozen apologies.

It got to the point where Mr. Stark had to sit Peter down, look him in the eye and say, “That’s it.” His finger, the metal one, dug deep into Peter’s collared shirt. “Stop it, kid. Me and Rogers, whatever happened between the two of us, it’s got nothing to do with you. And we’re fine now. We’re fixed. We watch Star Wars and Harry Potter every other Sunday, for god’s sake. There’s no better that we can get.” The other hand pressed on his arm shakily, a sort of pleading in the motion. “You don’t have to do anything for us anymore. Alright?”

Peter stopped asking after that.

Instead, he made observations. His eyes tracked each subtle gesture of wistful longing between the two, sometimes bordering on spontaneous animosity. Day and night, he made summaries, graphs, charts and fifty-one five-page essays for ten days in a row, writing and writing like he was running out of time.

He conducted interviews too.

Colonel Rhodes shook his head so adamantly when Peter pulled him aside for one of his trademark inquiry sessions, refusing to divulge anything more than a clipped but not unkind, "There’s definitely problems this team hasn't come to terms with yet, but it doesn’t fall on your shoulders to solve them, Peter." Dr. Banner had been much more forthcoming, nodding along to Peter’s mini monologue of observations. He even pitched in some of his own discoveries as to how the two skirted around each other when there was or wasn’t an audience, albeit with a mild warning that some things aren’t meant to be pushed too hard.

Even Bucky once appeared in front of Peter’s room, bouquet of purple hydrangeas and mug of hot chocolate in tow after one particularly brutal sparring session which had ended with one man’s ruptured blood vessel and another’s broken nose. He spent an hour trying to convey that, that was just their way of resolving conflict, their way of getting things out of their system. There wasn’t much that could be done about it. There wasn’t much they could do about it.

Or so they said.

But how many sleepless dawns after patrol had Peter spent - huddled under blankets in front of a glaring screen, scouring his way through Friday’s systems, keying in every code, every digit he thought would lead him to the right answer. Something, anything that he could work with.

Two months, twenty days and twelve hours later, he found it. The answer. Or at least, a part of it.

 It wasn’t pretty.

He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew that The Winter Soldier wasn’t Bucky, that the man in the video was just Hydra’s brainwashed lackey, that the Bucky he was familiar with would never consent to do anything remotely similar to what he had seen him do. He knew this, and yet some nights still found him jolting awake in a sea of his own sweat; May’s gasps echoing Maria Stark’s dying wheeze, Howard and Tony Stark’s pleas morphing into one, cold unflinching gaze haunting all the moments he fell quiescent. 

In the moments that he was restless, however, Peter resumed his search. He ploughed through the frights and horrors and sleepless dawns even more frenetically than he first did, because if he didn’t get to the bottom of this, no one else would. Because he knew there was more than just ‘The Winter Soldier murdered Mr. Stark’s parents’; there was always more.

Because what use was a team, if all its splintered souls did nothing to embrace their blemishes?

*

“Hey, Pete.”

 “Hm?”

“Wanna’ skip out on the theater gig tonight?” Alloyed fingers drummed idly on the lab table. “We could stay in here for a bit, work on those web-shooter combinations. Could order some tacos. Or pizza. Your choice.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Thought it was supposed to be tradition.”

“Yeah, I’m getting kinda’ sick of Rogers' princess movie obsession,” His eyes drifted upwards, thumbs twiddling. “You could go, though. If you want.”

Peter pulled back without missing a beat, eyes widening in comical fashion. “No, are you crazy? Lab night with pizza? When do I ever turn that down, Mr. Stark?”

An honest grin slid across Mr. Stark’s features. “Never.”

“That’s right.” Peter closed his eyes, leaning into the touch rifling through his unkempt locks. “Never.”

*

It didn’t make sense.

Did you know?

I didn’t know it was him.

Don’t bullshit me, Rogers!

Yes.

Peter watched, and still, nothing made sense.

He’s my friend.

So was I.

It. didn’t. make. sense.

*

Blinding white tore across the starless city sky in sharp erratic bursts, heated claws threatening to eliminate all in its path with each stroke of rampant rage. Ice-cold rivulets knocked mercilessly against bare skin, freezing the seconds ticking by as raddled sneakers thrummed upon asphalt, each reverberating cadence in perfect harmony with the furious anthem of unvoiced justice pumping through his veins.

Said anthem soared ever the more when the Captain’s door flung open, pounding hard at the seemingly bewildered face meeting his view.

"Peter? What's wrong?" The golden boy scanned him up and down, concern thick in his tone. "Why aren't you in your suit? Did something happ-"

Peter threw the answer up in his face, letting the phone explain everything as he panted over bent knees. The stark silence that ensued spoke for itself.

"Stevie, what's- oh." Him. No, Bucky. "Peter. You're- why don't we all come inside, yeah? Rain's pouring out here." The voice, so tender, not like. Not like him. Not. Him."I'll put the kettle on."

Which was how Peter ended up in one of Bucky's oversized shirts, settled opposite two war veterans, hands cupped round a mug of hot chocolate and eyes cast in a blatant show of quiet outrage.

"Explain," The anthem burned strong in him.

"Son-"

"Don't call me son."

"-this was all on me, alright?" Dejected tone, blonde head bowed over clasped hands.

Good.

“I- we disagreed on the Accords because-”

“I don’t care about that, Captain,” Peter set the mug down, flexing his fingers mechanically. “The Accords was rigged to begin with. Whatever that came after, shouldn’t be put on anyone but Ross, that I get.” He pressed a finger to the cracked screen of his phone. “No Captain, I’m talking about this.”

Captain Rogers stared at him with eyes so blue, but like the sick man in the video pointed out, there was a hint of green in that blue. A flaw.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” The captain leaned back into his seat, where Bucky’s prosthetic arm (that Tony Stark built for him) was stretched rigidly upon. “I thought that by not telling him, I was sparing him from the sorrow. But really, I was just sparing myself. I- I never meant for him to get hurt. And I’m sure, neither did he.”

Oddly, that last sentence was what pushed Peter over the edge.

 “Neither did he?” His jaw clenched. “Neither did- are you seriously saying that right now? Of course he didn’t mean to hurt you! If he had any control over the situation, any control of the information that you withheld from him, he would not have done that.”

 “I know, Peter.”

 “Do you?” He hissed. “Do you really? Do you know the pain of losing your parents, of not knowing what the hell happened to them except that ‘They died in an accident’? Do you know the want, the pure want, to kill the piece of shit that took their lives, that walked free as you mourned their deaths? That ripped them from you, before you even got to know them?” His fists shook in tandem with the throbbing crescendo of his anthem. “Do you know, how Mr. Stark fought for you behind the scenes? How he wrote and rewrote proposals to alter The Accords, only to be rejected by Ross time and time again? How he hired lawyers and sometimes personally went to vouch for the others in the Raft? How he lost sleep at night, how he drank himself into oblivion, whimpering your name, begging me each time not to tell Mrs. Pepper or Rhodes, because apparently, it didn’t matter?”

 Captain Rogers stiffened in his seat.

“Do you know?”

 “No, son.”

 “I’m not your son.”

 Bucky remained a stock still statue by the Captain’s side.

 Peter sighed, shoulders sagging. Deep breath, calm down. “Sorry.” The lingering pulse of anguish pushed to the back of his mind. “That was uncalled for. Sorry. ”

 “Don’t be.” Bucky replied with haste.

 Peter made another haphazard gesture towards their object of discussion. “Did you guys ever try talking to him about this?”

 “I wrote him a letter.”

 “Yeah, and sent him a burner phone, I know.” Peter snapped, tone sharp. “Scintillating ultimatum you gave him, by the way. He broke it in his fists after two whole months of drinking and staring.”

 “Sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, Cap,” His fingers tapped the mug handle almost frantically. “Say that to Tony. He needs to hear it.”

 “It’s only two years for you, Peter, but it’s been seven for us. He might’ve- he might not want to hear about this anymore. We’re fine like this.”

 “Bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t notice the way you both act with each other. You guys really need to solve this shit,” Peter mulled over his words, before adding, “By solve, I mean talk about it. Not punch the living daylights out of each other.”

 Captain Rogers shrugged hopelessly. “We don’t talk about things like this. It’ll just escalate, and then we’d be throwing fists all over again. Might as well get that done without scarring our hearts more than it already has been.”

 “Are you serious?” Muted wrath threatened to positively devour the mug in his hands. “Dude, we could have lost Tony in that war. He could have snapped his fingers, and that would have been the last we saw of him. Would you have lived with this then? Not talking about this, because neither of you can stop feeding your very physical ego for one goddamn second? Because neither of you were brave enough to listen?”

 Again, the stark silence spoke for itself.

 “You need to talk about this.”

 “Look, son-”

 “Damn it, Cap!” Peter roared, fists banging against the table. “Call me son one more time!” The mad beast reared its horrendous head, yanking his vocal chords to unrivalled heights, fuelled by the heated flames that grew larger and fiercer with each thunderous beat. It fed off the tension, the visceral need to rip, maw and absolutely pulverise anything and everything that it could find.

 Reddened eyes, full of tears unshed, reflected one another transparently.

 He couldn’t take this anymore.

 “Honestly,” He stood, mug left untouched, voice barely over a whisper. “With all due respect, Captain Rogers. You’re a fucking dick.”

 Peter left, door slam behind him, along with Captain’s echoed ‘Wait!’ and Bucky’s muted ‘Kid’s got a point, Steve.’

*

Peter thought that if he found the answer, everything would make sense. Or, at the very least, he would feel better about things not making sense.

 Clearly, he had been wrong.

 The first night he stopped searching, his phone rang like the house was on fire.

 Mr. Stark had been the first to call. Followed by Colonel Rhodes, then Bucky, then Captain Rogers, then Dr. Banner, and then subsequently the rest of what his team was supposed to consist of.

 He refused to answer. He didn’t care if his phone burst from being called 24/7. He didn’t care.

 Instead, he spent the rest of his time doing what he did best - he looked out for the little guy. He threw himself in front of cars inches away from crashing into one another, saved kittens from trees, taught children how to look both ways before crossing the street, spent time with that tired old man sitting alone on the park bench every week.

And when he wasn’t doing this, he was with May. May and Happy, sometimes, but mostly May.

 He did his homework, with May. He had breakfast, lunch and essentially all his meals, with May. He watched those cheesy soap operas he missed, with May. He did all the things he longed to do, mourning the years that he lost, with May.

 “Are you okay, baby?”

 Maybe it was her firm arms cradling his head, maybe it was her tentative whisper, but there was something about hearing May calling him baby that made a lump form in his throat.

 “I don’t know.”

 May hummed. “Do you want to talk to Tony about it?”

 “No,” Peter sniffed. “Not for now.”

 “Okay, baby,” May rubbed the back of his neck in a way that only she knew how. “That’s okay.”

 He stopped going for movies and lab nights on the weekends.

 *

bucko (4:03 a.m.) : Hey punk, stevie and tony talked it out for a while. wasn’t pretty but, it was necessary, I think. you’re a legend, kid

 coolestdoctorr(4:23 a.m.): I heard what you did. We all needed that to happen eventually. Thank you for being the bravest of us, for acknowledging our flaws and for bringing our team together as best as you can. Take as much rest as you need, and if you need someone to talk to, I’m happy to listen. Stay safe, and we love you.

 warmachineROX (4:29 a.m.): you did great, Peter. I’m sorry i said you couldn’t do this; those boys really needed a nudge. Thanks for doing what you did. Take care, kid.

 so-you-got-detention (4:28 p.m.): Peter, I don’t think there’s anything I can say except I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have talked with him about this 7 years ago. I spent a couple long hours with Tony earlier this weekend. That hardly made up for anything, but we’ll work it out. Things aren’t perfect, we’ll get it better. We have you to thank for that. I know you’re angry with me, which you have every right to be, but know that if you ever need help, just call me. I’ll be there.

 he’s stark, tony stark (5:01 p.m.): b at ur place in 5 mins[sunglasses emoji]

 *

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, kid.”

“Steve mad at me?”

“Definitely not.”

“...You mad at me?”

A pause. “Not really, no,” Mr. Stark rubbed the side of his chin, tilting his head towards Peter. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Peter felt his lips shiver against his teeth, sheen of moist clouding his vision, head bowed low and voice crackling, “It does.”

Arms, one alloyed and the other so very real, quietly rolled themselves round his trembling frame, guiding his head towards the steady rise and fall of his hero’s chest, flesh thumb rubbing slow circles over his back, whispers of soft nothings soothing his hair and eventually, a light peck on the forehead.

They stayed like that for a while, beside Peter’s unmade bed, melancholic warmth emanating like cool salve on an open wound. It was comforting, that lack of sound, that silence that spoke the thousand words they couldn’t.

And then, the patented smirk. “You did good, kid,” His tone, so fond. “Friday probably thinks otherwise, though. She’s a little pissed, I think. Kudos for that, by the way. Real sneaky.”

Purely on a whim, Peter snorted, “Love you too, Tony.”

For a moment, it looked as though Tony might just melt into an emotional puddle of goo. Thankfully, he didn’t; Peter wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath, squeezed Peter closer to his heart, and in a voice smaller than Peter had ever heard, muttered,“Lab night this Sunday?”

Peter, in all his glorious mess of tears and snot, broke into a wobbly laugh.

*

Always.

[lousimusician]

Faking It

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Ik you're busy working on sex pollen right now but when you could could you do one where the reader has never orgasmed with any of their SO and when they start having sex/dating peter they dont want to make him feel bad so they just fake it? And somehow peter finds out the truth and he just turns super dom and makes her cum like....a lot? Thanks! I love your writing so much!

A/N: I fell in love with this request the second I saw it omgggg, it's so goooood. Thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope I did it justice lol. I also wasn't planning to write whole ass fics for the requests and make them more like blurbs or something, but some of your guy's ideas are so good I couldn't help myself.

Warning: Smuttttt, Oral (fem recieving), language, Peter and the reader are both 18

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

Peter had really just been passing through when he overheard the conversation that made his stomach twist with shame and embarrassment.

It had to be around midnight when Peter just finished patrolling Queens and he decided to stop by his girlfriend's apartment for a few minutes.

Your window was open, and just as Peter was about to crawl through was when he heard it.

You were facetiming MJ while laying on your bed, and the two of you seemed to be in deep conversation, when he heard her say, "So you've been faking it this whole time?"

Peter stopped, interest piqued to find out what exactly you had been faking.

You groaned and tugged on your hair. "Yes."

"Is he that bad or is there another reason?" MJ asked mindlessly while she worked on her homework.

"No he's good, it's me. I just- I have a hard time.. y'know..-"

"Orgasming?"

You groaned again. "I hate this conversation."

MJ put her hands up in surrender. "Hey, you were the one that wanted to have this sex talk."

You rolled your eyes. "Anyway, I think I'm just scared I won't be able to and then he'll be all embarrassed and then I'll be embarrassed, so I... fake it. And it wouldn't be the first time either, I did the same with Ian and Devin."

"And Peter has no idea?" MJ asked, looking up from her homework.

"Well I hate to brag but by the time I started dating Peter I got very good at faking it." You said pathetically.

"(Y/N) that is the saddest thing I've ever heard, don't worry you're not bragging." She responded sarcastically.

"Yeah, I know. What do you think I should do? I just feel so guilty."

MJ shrugged her shoulders. "Don't know man. Just talk to him I guess, how long can you go pretending anyway."

You shook your head. "Yeah... I'm just- I'm gonna go to bed now, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"See ya." MJ said before ending the call.

Peter backed away from your window, but lingered on the wall as everything you and MJ said sunk in.

And Peter didn't know how to feel anything other than embarrassed and betrayed.

You faked it,

Every. Single. Time.

And Peter began replaying every time the two of you had sex.

The first time you two were together, to when you had done it in the janitors closet, to when you told each other that you loved each other, to even just last night.

How had he never noticed before.

Peter punched the wall in frustration, before swinging back to his own apartment.

-----

"Hey Peter." You greeted your boyfriend the next morning at school, after arriving at his locker.

Upon hearing and seeing you Peter immediately remembered the anger he felt last night, so with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw responded with a simple, "Hey."

You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone but ignored it anyway. "So are we still hanging out later."

"Sure." He said without looking at you.

"Oookay?" You said confused by his attitude. "I'll talk to you at lunch then." You said, backing away before heading to your own class.

The rest of the day had gone by in a similar fashion. Peter was very off and you couldn't figure out why, except for that it had to be something with you because he was only acting coldly towards you.

The walk to his place with him after school was quiet and tense, and it was setting you on edge.

You tried to fill the silence with idle conversation but when his responses came off as less than interested, you finally gave up all together. And even when you reached his apartment, the two of you went straight to the bedroom silently save for the greetings to Aunt May.

The second Peter stepped into the bedroom he threw his bag down next to his desk and immediately pulled his homework out, and started on it even though it was a Friday, further proving to you that he was ignoring you.

Meanwhile, you on the other hand, decided to sit on his bed without a word.

You pulled out your phone and occupied your time with the device. 

And that was how the night slowly progressed. You shooting glances at him, while Peter pretended not to notice as he continued his homework.

It wasn't until May popped in to tell you two that she was going out for a few hours with her friends that you finally said something.

"...Peter?" You asked quietly, and all you recieved was a hum in response. "Are you mad?"

Peter continued writing, "No." He said simply but with a bite that told you he was definitely angry.

"Did I do something?"

"No." He said again, jaw clenching.

"If you don't tell me, I can't fix it."

Peter stopped writing and began tapping his pencil against his paper, trying to figure out what to say. "...You've been faking it." He said as if the words burned his tongue, gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him.

You sat up on your knees, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed. "H-how-?"

"I went to stop by your place last night-"

"Y-you heard." You stuttered out in a small voice, shame seeping into your conscious.

"Yeah I heard." He said bitterly. "Did you really fake it every time?" He finally looked at you.

You gaped at him, torn between telling the truth and lying but the look he gave you told you it would be wisest to tell the truth. "...I did."

The pencil in his hand snapped.

"P-Peter I'm so sorry, I was just so embarrassed-"

"Oh you're embarrassed?" He asked sarcastically. "Imagine how I feel knowing that everytime I slept with my girlfriend I've never been able to make her cum."

"No! Peter it's really not your fault. The last two guys I dated were never able to make me cum either."

"Great, now I'm like those two assholes." He muttered, standing up.

You shot up off the bed, stepping closer to Peter. You placed your hands on his cheeks so he would give you his undivided attention. "Listen to me Peter." You said sternly. "I love you so much and I am sorry I never told you. You are so amazing in every way and if I'm being completely honest...I've never been able to make myself cum eith-"

You were roughly cut off by Peter's lips crashing against yours. Your hands fell to his chest, while one of his gripped your jaw firmly and the other tightly held your hip. "Stop talking." He muttered, his lips going to your neck.

"W-what?" You asked breathlessly.

"I said stop talking." He repeated more firmly this time. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed, raising a hand to shoot a web at the door to keep it locked in case May came back early.

Peter moved on top of you now, leaning back. "This is how it's gonna go, I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make you cu-"

"But Pete-"

"I'm speaking now." 

"S-sorry." You said, biting your lip.

"I'm going to make you cum alright?" He said pulling off his sweater, "And you're going to communicate with me this time to make sure- take off your shirt." You did as he said, taking your bra off too. "To make sure you do cum, and you're not going to fake it okay?"

You nodded profusely.

"Good. Now, you can talk." He said as his hands began undoing your jeans.

"..What if I can't though." You whimpered.

"That's why you're going to talk to me, princess." Peter said gently, voice losing its roughness at seeing how worried you were. He pulled your jeans off your legs. "You're going to tell me exactly what you need, and I'm going to re-learn everything about your body." Peter pulled off your panties next, leaving you completely naked. "...Grab the headboard for a second." He said, an idea coming to mind.

You cocked an eyebrow but did as he said anyway and jumped in surprise when he webbed your hands together. 

You turned your head, looking at your hands, before looking back to Peter with a confused expression.

"I want the only thing you focus on to be on what I'm doing." He said, moving down your body so he was situated between your thighs.

He pulled your legs over his shoulders and you struggled to look down at him because of your bound hands. Without warning Peter flattened his tongue going from the bottom of your slit to the top, making you throw your head back into the pillow with a moan. 

He did the same thing again only this time his lips latched onto your clit.

"Ahh~ fuck." You hissed.

His mouth worked against you until you were a whimpering mess, your hips beginning to grind against his face desperately, making him bring an arm up to pin you to the bed.

He knew you needed more but he wanted to hear it from you first so he pulled away and muttered. "Start talking princess." Before latching his lips back onto your clit.

"Y-your fingers." You stuttered. 

He hummed against you, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure down your spine. Peter brought his free hand to your pussy and slid a finger in easily due to how wet you were.

His tongue worked your clit as he started thrusting and curling a finger into you.

And it felt good, it always felt so good. Which was why it was so goddamn frustrating to feel so much pleasure that went no where, built up to nothing. 

But tonight you were as determined to cum as Peter was at making you.

"M-more~" You gasped out. Peter complied sliding a second finger in, his ministrations speeding up and using more force. "Peter~" You moaned. "Don't stop~ f-fuck."

The two of you sat there for god knows how long and Peter was finally starting to understand why you would fake it.

He pulled away, fingers still thrusting into you. "C'mon pretty girl, tell me what you need." You just looked so desperate to cum. Mouth gaping open as you whined and begged, your hips trying to move with him if not for the arm pinning you down, and it was driving Peter crazy. He was so hellbent on getting you to cum that he hadn't even registered how painfully hard he was, his own hips beginning to grind into the mattress for a sense of relief.

"I-I don't know." The words coming out as a frustrated sob, making Peter's heart clench.

That was when he got an idea.

Peter had always been aware of how gentle or rough he was with you, because if he didn't he could seriously hurt you due to his super strength.

But right now he realized that maybe that was just what you needed.

So with new intent, Peter slid a third finger in and started thrusting them into you, curling them to hit your g-spot perfectly. Mouth reattaching to your pussy again, he stimulated you with more force and strength behind every movement than he had ever used before.

And your reaction was immediate.

You practically screamed in pleasure. Body shaking almost violently, as your legs were wrapped tightly behind his back.

Your mind had gone fuzzy, never having felt this much pleasure before. And it was seriously fucking you up. 

An unfamiliar knot started forming making you more and more desperate for Peter. And just as you felt you were about to fall over the edge for the first time.

Peter stopped, removing his fingers and mouth.

Your eyes shot wide open. "P-Peter." You sobbed. "Why'd you s-stop." 

Peter crawled up your body, thumb wiping away the tears you didn't realize had fallen. 

He kissed your lips before saying. "Couple of reasons. First, that's what you get for not telling me about this sooner, and second, I realized that I want to be in you the first time you cum." 

You whimpered as he backed away so he could undo his pants. Your eyes raked up and down his lean muscular body, your fingers starting to itch with wanting to touch him.

"Can you dissolve the webs?" You asked.

He paused, looking at you for a second. "..No."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "B-but Peter-" You whined.

"No. I kinda like you like this, and I have a feeling you're going to need to hold onto the headboard because of how hard I'm gonna fuck you."

Your cheeks burned, he was never usually this forward. "Peter!" You spluttered.

He ignored you while he finished undressing himself, getting up to grab a condom before easily finding his spot on top of you again once he finished putting it on. He pressed his lips against yours again in an intoxicating kiss, while he gripped his cock to line up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, making the two of you moan into the kiss.

He pulled back slightly. "I'm not going to go easy on you." He said breathily, lips grazing yours as he spoke. "Think you can handle it?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Good." He said, sitting up as a hand went to your leg to hike your thigh onto his hip, while his other hand started gripping the top of his headboard.

He admired the way you looked with your hands bound as you stared up at him wide eyed. 

And without any warning he pulled back and snapped his hips roughly into you. You arched your back as a moan passed through your lips.

Peter kept a fast and rough pace, fucking into you hard. And he had found himself enjoying it much more than he thought he would, not having to hold back and be mindful of his powers.

You had been clearly enjoying yourself too. Your head tossed back in ecstasy while you moaned and whined incoherently, forgetting how to form words. You couldn't think at all, only being able to feel Peter.

The relief you felt when that unfamiliar knot started to form, letting you know that Peter may actually get you to cum, was amazing.

"P-Peter I think I'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a moan.

"Y-yeah?" He grunted out, picking up more speed. "Then do it pretty girl. Cum." His hand that was on your thigh trailed down to your clit and he started rubbing it in rough circles. 

The extra stimulation was what tipped you over.

You came with a loud scream of Peter's name on your lips. And you came hard. The pleasure feeling so unreal that you couldn't believe you had gone this long without ever experiencing it. Your vision turned almost black, seeing stars. 

You had cum so hard you hadn't even realized Peter came too, until after you came down from the high.

You were panting, absolutely breathless, feeling Peter's weight on you as he was slumped against you now.

Your body was shaking, and you muttered out. "Holy shit."

You could feel Peter's smile against your shoulder. He pulled out, making you jump at the feeling and he rolled off of you, panting just as hard while the two of you stared at the bottom of the top bunk.

"You're amazing." You muttered again.

Peter laughed, grin widening. "And to think you could've been cumming this whole time if you just told me."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah I know... I was just embarrassed."

"Don't be."

You hummed. "Can I stay the rest of the night?"

" 'course. I prefer you stay anyway."

"So.. can you dissolve the webs now?"

Peter turned his head to look at you, making you turn to look at him too. He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think we were actually done, did you?"

You looked at him confused, "W-what?"

His hand ran down to your pussy again, finding your clit, making you jump. "I plan on making up for every time you faked it, by the end of the night."

"B-but what about May? She'll be back soon."

Peter glanced at the time, seeing that it was only 9. "Aunt May goes out with her friends once a month and she never has gotten home before 1 or 2 in the morning. We have time."

You stared at the glint in Peter's eyes, and knew you were utterly screwed. "Oh fuck."

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

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@i-alyssa

[vaguely-concerned]

I rewatched the mandalorian episode 8 and boy have I got feels for you

- lol gideon’s callouts to all of them though... you have ‘hey cara remember how we blew up your entire planet and killed your fellow soldiers’ and ‘hey din djarin yeah I know who you are lol the mysterious stranger thing doesn’t work on me remember how we apparently murdered a bunch of mandalorian children in one night’ (that’s how I’m taking ‘mandalorian recruits’ anyway) and then finally there’s just ‘greef karga. you’re really old enough to know better.’ 

- oh bb!din doesn’t cry at any point during the whole flashback :((( bb boy. he’s of course terrified but there are no tears. I’m guessing he’s in shock/dissociated the entire time. (probably also due to having a child actor but I think it makes a lot of sense in-universe too! to put on my trauma hat for a moment he’s always read to me as a combined freeze/flight type; he either dissociates or loses himself in work. I suppose he got started early) 

- the look on Papa Djarin’s (I mean I assume) face as tiny din reaches out for him and he knows he has to turn away and leave to save him :) exquisite burning agony

I still wonder so much what his parents did for a living. those red robes look almost like uniforms/religious garb to me or it might of course just be the fashion in this place, people in the background seem to be wearing similar things. 

- I LOVE the mando who saves him as a kid because that’s apparently the same actor who’s in the mando suit when it’s not pedro pascal or another stuntman (brendan wayne, I think it is?) so it gives this wonderful feeling that you get now where a lot of din’s body language and general bearing comes from but there’s also just enough difference that it’s clearly another person. with din there’s always this edge of reserve and a slight stiffness no matter how relaxed he is, and this guy has the same basic steadiness as him but seems a bit more open just from these few short shots. (there might be a little bit of character design in this as well -- din’s shoulder pauldrons are naturally uh ‘higher’ than this guy’s, who has smoother/flatter and more rounded shapes, giving the feeling of shoulders just slightly raised and relaxed down respectively)

it’s nice to see the mandos as a protective force even if they have the death watch symbol there to make you go ‘?!?!?!’, there wasn’t a lot of that in clone wars but it’s an ill wind and so on I guess 

- this confused jawa looking at the dead stormtroopers is everything. don’t worry you’re doing amazing sweetie

- the context for why din picks up the e-web (channeling the spirit of baze malbus, a man who also didn’t let the fact that his weapon was really meant to be mounted on a tank stop him :’) ) makes it even better: he sees that IG-11 has the baby and that he’s getting overwhelmed and he literally grabs the biggest gun he can find and goes to town to let him get away.  

- “I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child” ooof but also what are the logistics of that? I’m wondering if it might be the ‘Djarin’ part, if that’s his family name? maybe there hasn’t been a use for that among the mandos? surely someone has needed to call him by name somehow at some point in the last 30+ years lol

- one of the reasons gideon works so well as a villain is that he can get past the beskar. he knows exactly how to kill mandalorians because he’s done it before. he’s not only a huge threat emotionally -- he wants the baby and he’s done some fucked up shit to din’s culture -- he’s also one of the few people who can nullify the physical protection of our main boi in the helmet. and that scares me. because he’s my dad and I love him.

- I’m fairly sure din is properly unconscious for almost half a minute there. (which is very very bad. always go see a doctor if you lose consciousness after hitting your head if an IG unit with appropriate training and equipment is not on hand)   

- baby yoda passing out after doing one (admittedly spectacular) thing is a wholeass mood, #same buddy ilu 

- din is the first person to explicitly call the baby a foundling ;____;

- poor cara she’s already lost so much and her new bro is trying to convince her to let him throw himself on any sword made available to him. (I do love that neither she nor IG-11 buy mando’s bullshit for a moment here tho lol they’re openly saying they’ll take him with them anyway while he’s listening) 

- oh. oh din starting to jumble his words even as the gun remains rock steady in his hand is hitting me really hard this time. ow.

- I think the baby can sense din and IG coming (he gives a little sound right before they show up) 

- when cara checks in with him in the tunnel she touches her fingers to his chest so very lightly and he almost falls over backwards sdfaksdljhf

- well he definitely is trembling while picking up that helmet from the pile. so have fun knowing that with me 

it’s so messed up too because there’s not that many of them left; he’s all but guaranteed to have known every single one of them. 

- this image of him on his knees in front of this pile of the empty armor of the dead feels. I don’t know how to describe it but like a repeat. like he has been here before, this isn’t the first time and it’s hitting him all over again. (considering how things have been going for the mandos recently that might very well be true too. metaphorically this is essentially what’s going on in the background of the entire show, anyway. Friends I think mando Saw Some Shit during the night of a thousand tears or a similar event) 

maybe what gives me this feeling is how clearly he is in another time in some way during this part, before the armorer diagnoses him with Dad and brings him properly back. he’s trying to send them away with the baby, who’s like. basically the symbol of his will to live at this point. “I can’t leave it this way”, he can’t leave the dead behind and be alive, some part of him wants to stay with them. 

you can see this from how he talks about the baby too: in the scene where he’s hurt and trying to get them to leave he consistently calls him the child or the baby (not to mention the first foundling we get!) and focuses very specifically on keeping him safe. in this triggered state the baby briefly becomes it again and he doesn’t even mention him, he just tells them to take his ship and leave. in that moment all he wants to do is fight and probably die on behalf of those who are already gone. (I think bessel van der kolk has called PTSD ‘a profound loyalty to that which is lost’ or something like that. that rings very true to me here)  

the talk with the armorer is basically a very short debate between ol’ coping mechanism!din being like ‘hey I just remembered before all this I was doing my very best to work myself to an early and likely shallow grave, I should get back to that’ and Papa Wolf!din being like ‘except this is my son so we’re not doing that we’re gonna have to improvise something new on the fly here’. bless. 

(all of this is so subjective and probably me reading things into it that don’t really exist so don’t quote me on any of this but his anger at greef karga sounds to me like that of a younger, emotionally rawer man too, it’s so openly hurt and... active? I guess? these days when he gets angry he seems to tend more towards getting deathly quiet. then again this is one of the most genuinely upsetting things in the whole show so it could just be that)  

- hahahahahaha greef rests his hand on his gun before he follows them into the armorer’s workshop; it would seem he did not think it guaranteed either she or maybe especially mando wouldn’t try to shoot him  

- the way the armorer’s voice gains a brightness/warmth when she sees the child! the mandalorian ‘protect babies’ instinct in action haha, she’s like ‘oh this is why you did this bugfuck insane thing. perfectly reasonable, keep up the good work’.  the foundlings are the future is not just lip service it really is a central tenet of their culture even when it’s inconvenient 

there’s this sense that... in the face of his hurt she’s basically telling him to go be alive, to raise this child, to choose surviving and healing. I think she understands him very very well, I wonder how long they’ve known each other. (she had the mould for his signet ready <3)

- he sounds so crestfallen and lost when he asks if the baby is an enemy. and then she’s just fondly like ‘no it’s your son you absolute dummy’ and he’s like ‘...yeah I know’ 

- I. love that in these scenes he’s hurt (and not just physically) and other people are there to carry the baby until he can pick him up at the end fully as a father would.  

- I have talked about it before but I must restate how hilarious and endearing I find it that mando conscientiously leans the thing he tries to pry the boat loose with against the wall again while cara shoots the place up. one is never too busy to mind one’s manners. (this scene really showcases each of the characters too. greef: just keep fuckn pushing! mando: briefly kicks the thing with a growl then tries attacking the problem from a new angle. cara: GUN.) 

- oh the absolute sweetness of how IG says “And you will live”. there’s so much emotion in his droid voice there and all of it is peaceful and affectionate. I agree with din IG don’t goooooooo don’t leave us we need an adult

I keep whispering ‘pls someone think to shield the baby’s eyes’ through my tears in this scene, he didn’t need to see that happen D:

- I really need to repeat that despite what IG-11 says, he goes ahead with his plan anyway even though mando never satisfies his ‘programming’s’ demand. droid’s got free will and a huge big heart Y___________Y anyway... droid rights in the star wars universe when (...it would be very funny if din became embroiled in that fight somehow after this, oh how the turntables) 

- another continuity error: mando puts the jetpack on, then we get a shot of cara shooting and he’s standing there with it in his hands again haha. unless he realized he put it on upside down the first time around or something that seems unlikely. (he’s also lying in slightly different positions between cuts in the scene where IG-11 heals him, but that’s so small and subtle I don’t even really count it) 

- the jetpack scene is a beautiful encapsulation of din’s fighting style. he flails and gets jerked around a lot. he nearly blows himself up. I don’t think he’s fully in control of anything that whole time. and yet he gets the job done yet again. a disaster, but a glorious disaster still standing at the end of it all. one simply must stan. 

- a) I think din remembered how to take off better than he remembered how to land haha and b) BABY’S HAPPY LITTLE FACE WATCHING HIS DAD COME BACK DOWN c) THE BABY & MANDO MUSIC PLAYING WHEN DIN NOTICES THE BABY CLUTCHING HIS LEG *elmo surrounded by flames gif* (it’s a calmer/more grounded version of the same song that plays when they have that moment of connection right before the other mandos come to the rescue in ep 3 and also a few other times)

- baby’s joyful little trilling sound when his dad turns his head to check on him 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and he strokes the cape with such contentment because it’s a safe familiar texture because this is his dAD (officially and legally too now, mandalorian-wise :’) im so happy)

- the unsympathetic comedy stormtroopers at the beginning could conceivably have survived (if not uh happily lol). if they become a recurring duo who show up and get more and more screwed every time I wouldn’t be mad haha

- I support these jawas in everything they do, I feel a great kinship with these lil goblins 

- anyway I love this show so much and I hope season 2 is good too and knows it holds my fragile heart in its hands 

[kaiju-z]

In the past couple of episodes, 8 teams have been fighting for supremacy. Each trying to be more fficient, each trying to do what they do better, faster, harder and stronger than their opponent to reach and win the finale of the Spring Welcoming Tournament.

We’ve seen explosions, we’ve seen dinosaurs and we’ve seen the steady rise of two teams.

Today, these two teams go up against one another. The winner takes 20,000 gold and a mansion. And for someone among them, there is something personal as well...

Seon Adventures Episode 28: “The Cultbusters vs The Traveling Gentlefolk”

The Day of the Tournament’s finale has arrived and each member of the Cultbusters deals with things in their own way. Humor, a precautionary spell set in place, stretching and words to go by. Sweets. Psyching one’s self under a silent gaze, never leaving the direction of the Echosmith Hall, the Colliseum, wherein the battle shall be held.

The party head out and make an easy entrance, with Malak casting Aid on Belli, Amelia and Mournimar. Entering, we are greeted by two figures. One, River, recovered from the 1st round and back in work attire, waiting her turn as our gnome business partner, Peppery Pete comes forth.

Pep talk aside, the aged gnome reveals another motive for his presence in the waiting room for our party, which is to give us an open offer for a job of some sort. A job to map out some part of the continent, under the request of one of Pete’s investors. A high paying job, to be sure from one Lucius Bennett.

As Belli hands Orion and the remainder of her Blueberry Muffins for Pete to take care of (the muffins clearly there to appease the fey creature’s eternal hunger), River comes up next and informs the party of a job offer of her own.

A mostly hush-hush work, River’s offer is the retrieval of a valuable artifact lost for quite a while. She appears to trust us with the details for later talks, should we come to her as well, after having successfully brought the crystal ball from our Cultbusting escapade.

Despite Belli’s best efforst, we do not receive any spoilers on the mission, beyond the surface level stuff. River congratulates the party on how far the Cultbusters have come in the tournament, appreciating the initiative of it all and suggests they go for the Wizard first..

“Go for the wizard’s knees!” which turns everyone’s heads in Amelia’s direction, given that, after all, Sabrina is her sister. She does agree, to some extent. Taking out Sabrina first would be the most logical move to make. However she opposes any scarring and long lasting injuries.

“I’m here. And I’m watching your every. Fucking. Move!”

As Malak casts Anti-Life on himself, which causes black lines to temporarily cover his body, the horn blows, signaling the beginning of the finale.

The Trial of the Betrayed.

Both teams step out. The Cultbusters from the South Side, The Traveling Gentlefolk from the North, right from under the VIP seats.

As the man, sitting in the middle raises and then quickly lowers his hands, the battle begins.

Initiative is rolled and Malak takes point.

And casts Guardian Of Faith in the middle of the five. It takes the form of a Seviper (you know, from Pokémon)! One move out of it’s range and the victim will take the appropriate damage.

With this, Belli takes action and focuses on the promised goal. Taking out the wizard first. Thus, she looks to Sabrina and focuses a spell she had been holding onto for a while to use: Enemies Abound.

Sabrina tries to fight through it. But fails, perceiving everyone around her as a hostile target. As a bonus to all this, she inspires Amelia, given the situation they find themselves in.

With all that happens, Landis calls for his Crusdaer’s Mantle and charges towards Malak, right after getting bitten for his troubles by Sammy, the Seviper Guardian Of Faith.

Standing before the Cleric, he glares, aching from the damage he took from his clever first cast of the match, while the old man that appears with some similar features to him, Jeffry Ramsey tries to knock Belli out of her concentration.

But she easily avoids both his arrows.

Seeing all this, a determined Luctan takes his action, pulling the Greatsword off his back, chanting a word and suddenly... teleporting out of sight from the rest!

Only to reappear right in front of Dink Jawbone, Griffin Tallywork and Sabrina, herself. Three strikes delivered. A Slash on Griffin, a Slash on Dink and a Bonk with the flat side of his major weapon on the wizard in an attempt to stop her in her tracks.

Yes. Luck has truly become... Anime.

With Sabrina down, Dink messed up badly and Griffin not looking so hot, the Halfling pulls out a mace and axe in each hand, attacking Luctan as he teleports again, this time within his reach. He hits twice with the mace, barely doing any notable damage to the magic fighter, right before missing with the axe.

Luctan, seeing this display, and seeing Landis ready to attack Malak, leaves, offended at the insult of Griffin’s weak attacks. And gets hurt some from Landis’Mantle as he draws within range.

But the halfling has no time to process all this as Amelia charges in, right when Mournimar first misses, then critically hits Dink, knocking him out for a microsecond.

Amelia cocks her fists and swings in fast motion against the dual wielding Halfling. Brutalizing him with that good ol’ Dope Ass Monk Shit.

As Luck approaches, Malak attacks the Paladin, unloading blow after powerful blow. First, his Executioner’s Axe Spiritual Weapon strikes from the back, then he comes for the man with his actual axe, followed up with a couple of channeled divine attacks. Each strike is fueled with Necrotic Damage as what Landis essentially goes through in six seconds is essentially the touch of Death Itself. 

Her avatar, Malak, the Death Cleric.

By the time he’s done, Landis does not look happy at all over this situation. Truly did not expect such initiative from a man of faith. But One does not simply underestimate a Death Cleric.

This opening gives Belli the chance to initiate the second part of her plan. The plucky Bard focuses her magic and music onto the brutalized Dink and Griffin aaaand...

Puts them to bed with her signature Sleep spell.  Doctor Sleep in the house.

And for all of Malak’s efforts, she quickly gives him inspiration. Given Landis’ actions that come, following this, the cleric may as well need that.

Slash, followed by a second. Divine Smite implemented and Malak gets rocked in retaliation for all that happened mere moments prior.

With the focus shifting away from the Folk’s archer, Ramsey dashes over to Sabrina, resucitating her with a healing touch. And takes a bite for his troubles from the Guardian Of Faith.

As Luck approaches Landis, he attempts to hit him from behind with a Guiding Bolt, but that misses. The frustration of that misaction drives him to fight on, however as Luck Surges into Action. 

One slash. It hits. Second slash, also hits!

Mournimar tries to help with taking on the Paladin. But the armored avenger dodges out of the way and the arrows fly through Amelia’s hair as she makes a dramatic bullet time dodge.

Regaining her posture, she turns to the slept men before her, right as Sabrina starts getting up again. And she starts stomping on them, flurry of blows upon flurry of blows Dink and Griffin.

The horrific display that follows knocks out the two men, which brings Sabrina to an internal monologue, in which she decides it best to prepare a spell for her lover, Landis.

As this happens, Jeffrey takes a Spiritual Axe to the chest from Malak, who ducks and dodges a swing from Landis’ sword, making a run for the Ranger across the field. While Belli sticks true to character and sends Sabrina into a dreamland of her own with another Sleep Spell.

Upon reaching Griffin and Dink, he touches each with the Spare The Dying spell, stabilizing them in the process from slipping beyond unconsciousness. 

With the Paladin distracted, Belli uses the acting skills to good use to copy Sabrina’s voice and goes “LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!” at Landis. Which gets him to, of course, look behind his back to see a Sleeping Sabrina, causing him to scream out in surprise.

Landis gets played like a fiddle. Again.

Enraged and entering desperation mode with two of his allies unconscious, a third fallen asleep and forth barely holding it together and casting, Landis strikes Luctan with his longsword, drawing blood and knocking the helmet off his head with the spin of his footing.

Luctan, as though by his titular alias or a twist of fate, avoids what clearly would have then become a Smiting attack, saving himself from the kinda damage that even his parents would have felt.

Lucky indeed, as Jeffrey Ramsey casts Conjure Animal, from his grounded position, summoning a pair of Giant Spiders. One next to Luctan and another next to Belli.

Fun. Or not so much for Mournimar, who releases a girly scream, as the tiefling has to watch as one bites onto Belli, who luckily fights through the poison and keeps the sleep spell a-going.

Surprisingly, the other spider goes for Malak. A mistake as it’s web misses the cleric. And for that mistake, Ramsey pays with a blue blur that charges him from the side, while Luck dodges a sword slash from the Paladin as he dashes to Belli.

In reaching distance of her, Luctan casts Flight on the Bard, in order to give her some distance from the large arachnid.

Angry that she can’t get to Landis, Amelia opts to finish things off with knocking out Jeffrey Ramsey. And that she does in spectacular fashion as each of her blows strikes true and hard on the long range combatant’s body.

True to form, Amelia knocks his ass out, using all her strength, speed and inspiration for this task, right as Mournimar critically wounds and then finishes off one of Ramsey’s spiders. As Ramsey loses consciousness, the other Spider vanishes.

And thus, the two stop the menace that is the Spiders man.

Gagging over the spider doing it’s spidery-death thing aside, Mournimar hears the horn blow. The crowd erupting in cheers and chants as the battle comes to an end. And with it, the Spring Welcoming Tournament!

Celebrations begin as Amelia takes to her sister, before she gets escorted out of the arena with the rest of The Traveling Gentlemen. Luctan has no time to follow them with a gaze as Malak calls for Sammy to wrap himself around the lot of them and bring them into a Celebratory Group Hug, wherein compliments start flying from the refocused Tiefling in disguise.

An announcer joins The Cultbusters in the arena and, using a Thaumaturgical purple rock, declares them the winners, before handing them a golden key, which Mournimar accepts. This. This is the key to their new home.

Someone in the audience goes “Why didn’t you make her a T-Rex again?!” Amelia questions this too, but Belli assures her she just has to ask.

Fireworks blast overhead and Belli uses what time she has left under Luck’s spell to fly about, just overhead Mournimar to be the “taller one”.

As the high from the battle starts to go down, the party are given the address for the ball that will take place later on, which is funny, ‘cause it’s in the arena, ya know? The ball will be this evening and the victors are expected to wear their best wear. Which means, of course... Shopping time!

And shop they do. Right after they visit their new home, of course!

It is an enormous place, fitting for 5 people and guests in mind.

A stoney structure with a wooden fill in set between the rocks.

5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, 3 study rooms, kitchen and a dining area. There is a large greenery in the back that is their yard, perfect for gardening!

Each gets an outfit fitting their style, with the nuance of every party member spending their cut of ther 20,000 gold (4,000 each) in different ways.

Malak hands coin to the people around the area of their new home, near the Crematorium. His kindness brings many a smiles on people’s faces that day.

Belli, with the aid of Ficus, buys and delivers a ton of toys and money to the Orphanage, where she shakes Doreen, the Firbolg, to her knees with the display of kindness. With all this money... all kids will be able to go through school! And if anyone needs anything, Belli would gladly give more. Which brings Doreen to tears.

Santa Belli teaches kids the true meaning of D&D.

Amelia visits a couple of places. Harper’s Treats and later, her favorite flower shop in the city (which for some reason I didn’t write down in this session. Because I am dummy.) And from Lissandra, the Eladrin, she buys one of every baked good in the store.  Lissandra’s shooketh.

Mournimar, meanwhile, visits Dyunificus’ Temple and gives a large number of money, much to the awe of a halfling fellow, who winks at the praying tiefling. “Bless yoouuuuuu!”

All the while everyone spends their cash, Luck remains at their new home, in the room he picked for himself. There, he sits, half undressed and staring at the bag of coinage splayed on a fancy chair before him. He sits. And he ponders. Because that’s a lot of money and he has a lot of thoughts going through his fatigued mind.

As the night comes and people gather and enter the Echosmith once more, the party make their arrival. Fancy. As. Fuck.

Archers set up on top, to guard the area in case someone comes to wreck the festivities, the Cultbusters take notice of Idarys from Crystalgate’s Finest, who was placed as the lone guard on door duty.

Looking inside, there’s a grand buffet table and food and drink abound. Anything we can want? It’s there! For the pickings!!!

Aside from Idarys and most members of the Forest Hearted Bretheren, the second of whom opted out due to this fancy-schmancy stuff not being their thing, pretty much everyone is here from the different teams, even Gutrot from Miniature Mayhem! Though, his charges aren’t in sight. Oddly enough.

Ye Olde Ska music catches Belli’s attention and she points out the Kobold band “Less Than Drake” to everyone. Mostly playing horn instruments, there is a drummer among them.

Pete waves at the five from among the crowd, dressed in his finest tux, which makes him look even smaller. His work clothes having some bulk to them, apparently.

Without even saying a word, like their minds are in sync, Amelia and Luck grab large plates of fried chicken and bottles of Alcohol and bring them out to Idarys.

Who. Um. Yeah. “Confiscates” the contraband.

While Belli approaches the Band and Luck searches for Ficus, Malak takes heed of the people that have arrived at the celebration, while having himself a good nom.

Pretty soon Luck finds the Roguish Narah steals him away from Lord Arwen, with whom he had been having a conversation at the time. And then. They dance. With Belli, who convinced the Kobolds, to join them for a performance, using her clout as a Narah, herself.

And the boys dance. Going full Carameldancen on the dancefloor.

While this goes on, Mournimar and Samson meet up and catch up on old times. Samson admits that he hadn’t seen that much action before and after meeting the party and was genuinely glad to see them again. He missed adventuring with the lot of them.

Mournimar, suddenly, asks for a favor. He hands Samson 30 gold to split between himself, Savon and the guild. Which, Samson takes seriously as he writes the instructions on his hand. With blood. Go big or go home, huh?

The tiefling ranger then would help Samson with a request of his own, helping him to find a secluded area where he could just. Chill out from all the noise.Samson winds up on a balcony, where he relaxes and takes a puff from his pipe.

He congratulates Mourni on the win and then... well. Awkward nature lads fuck off to do their own things. Which leads Mournimar to Sabrina.

And Landis.

And they talk about the fight earlier in the day. “Good fight.” Mournimar feels apologetic for bruising Griffin’s ego, but Sabrina waves that off, saying that he needed to be taken down a peg.  “You know how men can be!” she jokes. But it flies over the poor tief’s head.

Looking to the dance floor, he tries to add mood lighting for the oblivious Luck and Ficus, but the anti-magic field around them prevents such usage.

Then, in an act of kindness that was not forseen, or maybe it was??? Mournimar hands 1,000 gold to Sabrina and Landis. Which just floors the wizard and Paladin, who admit that they were going to re-enter the tournament the following year.

Asked if he wanted anything in return for this exess of money, Mournimar declines. As it is a gift! To FRIENDS OF THE PARTY!!! Alas, Mourni is not good with handling money, it seemed...

This whole thing prods  Amelia to wander over soon enough, extra nervous over the situation at hand.  She worries if tieflings are just like that. Handing out money whenever, given Luck’s own track record with giving money out of kindness in the past.

Sabrina is just. Amazed. They could buy a house with this much money.  Pay off the schooling. Taking the money, she opts to head home and put it somewhere safe, while Landis follows soon enough after her. Confused and doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s been a weird few days.

What follows is an... awkward talk. Mournimar tries to apologize for past behavior, not being good with words and general manners... But! But Mournimar wants to do better. By her, by everyone and aplogizes for any trouble caused in the past.

On her end... Amelia speaks as well.

She doesn’t hold it against Mournimar. But she cares a lot, really and is hurt, but “it’s ok” as she puts it.

Mournimar offers to talk with her, if she ever wants to  to talk or chat, but Amelia doesn’t seem to easily be reciprocating the comraderie with Mournimar.  If anything changes, just let me know.” – Mournimar states. And in turn,  Amelia suggests she’s too sober and she’s not in the mood for feelings. Normally any other day she’d be so happy, but it’s been a few days.

Looking about, they do see a variety of alcohols. Top shelf stuff. And Mournimar jokes about the Centaur Moonshine. Amelia, countering of course, that she was on a ship for 9 years. Worrying about her wouldn’t be necessary.

Um. Good talk there.

In the meanwhile, Belli would get herself into shenanigans with the Guards, revolving around Orion, his size and his very presence at the festivities, as animals weren’t allowed.

Half a table. Half of it! Cleared out by the chunky cat familiar. Shock and awe!

Eventually she and Mournimar join up again and play “Hot or Not”, judging the fancy people’s looks. It’s wild.

All the while, Malak keeps an eye out for anyone evil vibey.

He seems some people, who are high off their tits, no one malicious. With the high investigation check, he sees a gentleman, who wasn’t in any of the tournaments. He’s high elven, red haired, clearly getting on a lot in years, though. He gives off very low-key evil vibes. Like in the rich man billionaire evil kinda way. His vibes are fucking rancid, bro. That special kind of evil. You know? I can’t be evil, I give to charity” kinda evil.

Self rightcheous-morally corrupt vibes. His face seems familiar, but he’s unsure from where. He can’t quite recall him, sadly. Dude’s pale and has a tattoo on his ring finger of a snake eating it’s own tail. So maybe he’s a follower of Keemis, as well? Odd that such a person would, however.

He’s talking with Salvador, the Aasimar from the Crystalgate’s Finest.

Luck and Amelia each try to learn first hand from the man.

What Luctan learns is that this man is:

- Ingram Bretannen, one of the vigilants of the guard. Oldest and longest of them. Trained with the captain.

- The guy is bragadocious as fuck.

- People tried taking his money, but that was rumor and heresay. He offers us a job at Lucious Beckett’s. (Pete gave us his card).

- He’s been bullshitting a few of the stories, he’s been in the city for a while, something about the 30 years ago seems dishonest.

And while Luck would go off to find Malak and inform him of what knowledge he had gathered...

Amelia approaches, after talking with Malak as well about the guy, while Mournimar and Belli accidentally commit microaggressions against elven workers.

What she learns is...

- Ingram is high up in the guard. Old, snooty and also has a normal wedding ring, as well as the tattoo of the Keemis ring. In honor of one of his late wives.

- She creeps him out.

- His 3rd wife’s name is Arabella and he has 3 kids.  Gilme and twins Luanda and Ellis.

- His sister sails on the “Yellow Tail”.

- This Fuckmothering Shit looks a bit like NEL!

- He totally has had kids out of wedlock, based on his behavior!

(20 minutes of fantasy Billy Mays jokes follow as Belli makes acquaintances with one, Bardy Scott. Lauren kills us with laughter. It’s. It’s so good, ok?! You had to be there.)

Still on the search for Malak, who had already left for the Keemis Temple, Luctan winds up being passed by The Traveling Gentlefolk.Which he only really notices after getting patted on the shoulder by a passing Landis, arm in arm with Sabrina and the money.

He gets the feeling, from this gesture, that Landis was being friendly.

And as he watches them go... Luctan feels himself in turmoil...

As the night and festivities carry on, the four remaining decide to crash the night at Nel’s place. But before that, they agree to go over to the temple and bring Malak with them. He is, after all, a Cultbuster.

Small talk is had along the way over getting the cats kitty toys and bonding is had over the whole thing.

All the while Malak would talk with Mother Destine, discussing the man he was unnerved by at the familiar looking elven man (WHO IS DEFINITELY NOT NEL’S DAD! NO SIREE, BOB!)

After a short discussion (I really wish I could record the sessions for better summaries ; u ;;;; ), Malak walks out of the temple and is greeted by the party, happily taking them up on their offer to head to Nel’s.

Seriously. We need so much Guidance as a party. it’s ridicilous.

Nel welcomes the party, in pajamas. The good kind. Silk and pink. She’s got class, damn it! She congratulates the five on the achievement and she even made sweets for the occasion!

Zone Of Truth shenanigans happen after Nel jokes about being with Belli’s dad.

“Did you fuck my dad, Nel?!”

She didn’t, of course.

And then... wlel, the bombshell not so much drops, as it reaches the final stage of the explosion as Amelia admits to the rest of the party that she is retiring from her adventuring life.

After everything they had been through, Amelia was in a different place as a person. She had Archie. She had Nelatha? And now? Now she had even her sister back!

The party takes this in their own way. With Belli being the most vocal one as she enters a panic mode over how to break the news to the animals. With Morgan vibing at the new mannor the party have, what are they to do with this info?!

Amelia is certain in her decision. And though Luctan keeps quiet and focuses as much of a brave face as he can, on the inside it’s a whole different story.

All this and there is so much work to do too.

Jobs from River and Pete. A revisit to Lake Stren? Going back to Menum to see if anything can be done for Luck’s body?!.

Luck’s body... Oh, now there was a story that needed more elaboration, eh?

As though on a whim, maybe more to it, of course, Luck removed the ring from his right middle finger and his form would change into his true body. And the glamour he had put his festive suit under faded, showing the deep gold color, instead of the fresh mint vibe that was there for hours on end.

He does so. and elaborates as much as he can brave to Malak and Nel. Why the ring. Why the vendetta. Why the everything that he can tell them, except what he had confided in Amelia.

And as the revelation of Luck’s appearance hits the last two members of the party, the new Malak and the honorary Nelatha, this episode comes to an end...

Previous Episode / Next Episode

[tamilkerr]

Lolita lovers

Wondering those busy hallways alone always unnerved Charlotte. Yet here she is  wondering with no sight of her friend, holding down her skirt while she walked around in circles. She was going from the stall that sold the melon soda to the one that sold the figures of pretty girls, and then back round again.

  It seemed that her friend had left the convention without her and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes “I just want to lay on the floor and cry.” She murmured to herself, but she couldn't, her dress would get dirty.So Charlotte found a solitary corner, crouched down to the floor and started to take many shallow breaths. She did this to stop herself from getting too anxious. She was just about to break down when she heard it. 

 “Hi.” A very soft voice greeted her from above. 

Charlotte looked up to see a hand reaching for her. “Are you ok, you look upset” asked a very cute girl in a similar sort of dress to Charlotte, but this one was black instead of pink. 

“Oh I’m fine, I just..” Charlotte paused and took a deep breath. “I can’t find my friend.” She said.The girl with the black dress and hair to match, simply said “I will help you.” prompting Charlotte to finally take the hand the girl had offered. Soon Charlotte was on her feet. 

 The girls had walked most of the con floor enjoying each other's company and conversation “So you're a gothic lolita then?” Charlotte twiddles her thumbs together, “yes it’s only gothic for me, what about you, what's your style of lolita fashion?”.

 tucking her black hair behind her ear to listen to the answer “well I'm not sure yet, this is my first time wearing lolita” the blonde sounded unsure of herself.    

 Placing a gentle hand on her pink sleeve “well I would continue with the sweet style, it looks really good on you” she blushed at her words but before she could say thanks or give a compliment back.They had walked into the food and seating area and Charlotte’s very loud friend had spotted her “THERE you are!” a tall girl with fiery red hair stood by the small blonde, “I was looking for you everywhere, WHY didn't you tell me you were going to get food” her pink bow almost falling off her head.

 “Aw sorry, I got too ahead of myself” the redhead apologised, the goth girl fixed the blonde's bow and smiled sweetly then went on her way. “Ooo Charlotte, got yourself a girlfriend there” the tall girl teased and a huge blush grew on Charlotte’s face “NO! you just have it all wrong Willow, that gothic girl was helping me find you” wagging her finger in willow face to get the point across.

Much more teasing and walking later the con was at its end, Willow was attempting to join in on a dancing routine with other girls in lolita. While Charlotte was looking about frantically, searching for that kind frilly stranger from earlier “Oh I wanted to give this to her” muttering things to herself as she held a small voodoo doll with black button

eyes “Who’s that for, because it can’t be for you it isn’t pink” Willow gave a toothy smirk.

A little bit of red formed on her cheeks as she answered “It’s for that girl in black from earlier, I just wanted to thank her” Willow did give a small laugh “Nah you just liked her” and with that the taxi for them both had HONKED loudly. 

Backdrop set up and lights just right “Hello my lovely viewers, it’s me Carlottalita” the perky blonde announced “and I’m bringing you the latest in Lolita fashion news.” Charlotte continued the day making videos. As night fell she took her huge ponytail hair extensions out and lay down in bed, posting mindlessly to social media.

“WAKE UP! Charlotte, it’s me willow” a harsh banging on the door, made her shoot straight up in her frilly bed sheets and night dress. “oh COMING! let me find the keys” she had her hand digging around in a bowl filled with many cute keychains. As soon as it was unlocked the women burst through with bags filled to the brim with petticoats, “look at all this, Daisy got rid of everything” she thrust bags into the sleepy girls arms.

“REALLY daisy doo, she’s done with lolita?” Willow nodded at her questions “yup! She announced it with a video early this morning, so obviously I went to console her and maybe get some of her stuff” a very big grin on her lips. Charlotte was still shocked but boiled the kettle to make her and her friend a nice hot cup of tea, so Willow could spill the T.

“That’s not even the best part” Willow stood up after an hour of sitting and chatting “she gave me her tickets to that big con in Paris” Charlotte almost dropped her saucer with her tea cup on it. “Are you serious, France? we are going to France!” her voice went up an octave, she then threw herself at her friend who in return gave her a big bear hug “Yes my tiny friend, so plan out your most loveliest lolita dress yet!”.

That afternoon she was already online looking at bows and socks to match her very expensive dress “wow Lotte that costs the same as a  gaming pc” Willow’s eyes were almost popping out of her head looking at this web page “I know, but this con is really important and special”  twisting and twirling her blonde hair. 

The ginger pinched her cheeks and shook her face from side to side “ohh nah, you're just hoping that you’ll find a fellow lolita girl to fall in love with” Charlotte just swatted her hands away “oh stop it Willow” a big huff escaped her. “just because I fell for someone once, doesn't mean it’ll happen again” the blonde started to daze off thinking of the gothic beauty she had met at one of her first cons.

“she had the loveliest voice as well” unfortunately she had said her thoughts out loud which resulted in her friends endless teasing all through the night. Willow had already made herself comfortable in the pink frilly bed sheets.

Finally the time had arrived to take off “Ahh do you think we have enough bags yet Lotte?” Willow asked as she eyed up the two separate piles of luggage. One pile decorated pink with pandas and the other green with foxes “Haha I worry we don’t have enough” the blonde responded nervously.

After the two had arrived successfully to the airport in separate taxis, with still many hours to go until they got on the plane they messed about in the various shops after putting their luggage through the check in gate.

“Hey don’t I look like Elton John!” the loud mouthed girl bellowed across the shop while she wore novelty pink, sparkly booby glasses. “That is funny because he is in fact gay” Charlotte giggled and nodded as she approached her friend. Against better judgement Willow bought the glasses and wore them as they ate their burgers and fries.

Eventually, they landed in Paris, France after a longer than usual flight due to bad weather Charlotte found one of her bags to be missing. Almost on the verge of tears Charlotte tries her best to hide it from her friend but before they could leave the airport Willow, like a sniffer dog could sense there was something wrong. 

“You had four bags. Now there’s three” she growled. The fiery redhead slammed her hands down onto the help desk “My friend's bag has gone missing” the friend in question watched in horror as she stood alone with the two luggage carts. “Well ma'am luggage does get lost quite often.” She gave a well practiced smile which angered the ginger more “How could you lose it? It's covered in pandas!!!”

Finally leaving the airport the two girls grabbed a taxi heading towards their hotel room. Sitting in an awkward silence the whole journey until they finally got into their pajamas “Thanks Will for trying” giving a soft smile as she spoke.

“I still think we could have gotten it today” still frustrated she wrapped her arms around Charlotte in a supportive cuddle “It’s okay we filled out the form so we should hopefully hear back from them” she returned the cuddle squeezing tighter.

After a while they settled into their beds and put on some TV they couldn’t understand so just ended up chatting to each other “So Lotte what was in that bag anyway? It wasn’t that fancy dress you just got was it?”

seeing the panic in Willow’s eyes she quickly responded, “well it was just some petticoats and a couple of pairs of socks but, you remember that doll I bought for that girl” When she realized what her blonde friend was going on about she gave her a cheeky grin “oohhh I see, you’re hoping you’ll meet her again” giving Charlotte a wink.

Many people stared at Charlotte and Willow as they walked down the streets of Paris dressed in their usual lolita styles. Charlotte in her pastel coloured lace skirt and top with a bow to match, Willow contrasting in multiple shades of brown with the clockwork decoration plus a top hat to top it all off. 

“So how’d you sleep last night Lotti?” she asked her clearly sleepy friend as they sat down outside a cafe “fine! It wasn’t like I was worried about my bags or anything Will” responding in an overly sarcastic tone.

As their tea and assortment of pastries was brought to them the waitress could not help but focus on their garments “Um excuse me but why are you dressed like that?” She couldn’t help but ask as she set down the numerous plates.

“Well we are wearing lolita” Willow couldn’t help but interject. “It’s just an alternative fashion, the woman who had served just looked more confused and with an ‘Oh’ she just walked away continuing to do her job. So the two friends just spent their whole day sightseeing but unknown to them both that girl whom the blonde has been enamoured with was not far from where they have had tea. 

The dark haired girl stood in a room with many lights and cameras wearing a black dress a lot fancier than the one from before “Rio stop daydreaming and get over here” a woman in a very regal outfit commanded “Okay, coming Hina” the two posed in many positions and wore many clothes but Rio’s were always mostly black. 

“That's enough photos for today ladies” a man with very shiny hair and equally shiny blouse told the girls “Well it’s about time, come Rio we must go meet my new friend” linking arms with her gothic friend and guiding her to a very nice car outside. 

Once inside the vehicle a neutral blonde with gray eyes gave them a very wide smile “Bonjour, you’ll be coming to my house for dinner, I’ve got chef’s making it as we speak” she announced as she held her head high “Rio this is Aimee, Aimee this is Rio” Hina introduced them both to each other.

With that they went to Aimee's house and the whole time they were in her home Rio couldn’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness around this new person. 

They were all sitting in Aimee’s bedroom, she had her own small sofa and coffee table which had a beautiful tea set with a matching cake stand next to it “oh you simply must see my lovely collection of vintage polly pockets” Hina’s eyes lit up at those words but her fellow model didn’t really know what these polly things were. On this white wood shelf there were a lot of tiny little pastel coloured boxes that kind of looked like compact mirrors without any glass “Cool” was all Rio could muster. 

After some time Aimee left the room “Hina how well do you know her?” the goth asked, “Not very, I met her the last time I was here for a photoshoot” her friend said it so casually.

 Rio was a little shocked “What! You’ve only known her for a month? Why are we in her house?” grabbing her friend by the shoulders and shaking her a little “Calm down there’s nothing to worry about it’s very unlikely that she’s a serial killer or something” Hina laughed at her and messed her hair up. 

Their conversation was interrupted by the person in question with another big smile plastered across her face. She informed them that a car was waiting to take them to their hotel.

As the two japanese women entered through the door of the hotel, just across the street from them Charlotte and Willow went through the door of the much smaller hotel. 

Hina couldn’t help but tease her friend as she removed her black lipstick “So did you think Aimee was cute?” Rio looked confused by her question “Well I mean, you do have a thing for blondes” responding quickly to her confusion. “N-n-no I don’t” her cheeks clearly flushed bright red.

Frantically they tried to get ready as fast as they could while simultaneously being as cautious and deliberate as they can be, after layers of clothing such as petticoats and tights were finally on both of the girls were ready to put on their fanciest dresses yet for this convention.

“Will! How does this look on me? Was it worth the money?” Charlotte was frantic “Don’t worry Lotte it definitely looks real expensive and you look damn fine in it might I add” Willow thrusted her hips towards her friend in a joking manner,She was not so worried anymore, just really amused because of her friends' antics. 

hair and makeup all done the two of them went downstairs to the hotel's breakfast buffet as they had much time to spare, one wonders why they were rushing or even worried in the first place. 

While getting to the train was uneventful, being on the train the two overly dressed friends were met with many stares and whispering even a few rude words. 

“I had a few words in mind for those people” the fiery redhead snorted “If you just let me Charlotte” she said through gritted teeth “It’s just best to let people be rude and ignore them Willow” putting her hand gently on her friends shoulder in a sort of soothing manner “Be the bigger person” another hand placed on the other shoulder and softly shaking back and forth to get her point across “NEVER!” she grabbed the blondes cheeks in response.

The line outside of the convention hall was chock a block, you have not seen so much ruffles and lace in one place in your whole life, although there was much pastel to be seen there was plenty of goths with their darkness. 

Rio was with Hina, both were staring out of an open window at the crowd below “wow there are a lot more fellow lollita’s this time around” her friend had to agree “It seems that the online shops have really brought more people in” the two of them were dressed head to toe in very fancy attire, Hina looked like pure royalty with her mostly cream and gold dress whereas her fellow model resembled more vampire royalty with her black and purple outfit. 

Our two British besties stood amongst the crowd somewhere in the middle of the line “OMG it’s Carlottalita and The Maiden of the Cog” a young and very hyperactive girl squealed, with her came a group of more squealing ladies. 

“Hi everyone so nice to see you all here!” waving her two hands in the air while her yellow pigtails bounced frantically “What’s up my fellow shipmates” outstretching her arms in the same direction, waving them about to greet the group. “But you’re not a pirate this time” one of the little fangirls told Willow “Yes but I’m in steampunk so I can still have an airship” crouching down with her hands in a diamond shape to emphasize her point.

As the crazy antics went on in the que, the staff were preparing to open up the doors to let everybody into the convention hall. Aimee was standing atop a staircase watching the doors like a hawk “Miss Lamar, we are preparing to let everybody in, you should probably go join the models from in the conference room” she agreed and followed the staff member to the room in question. 

A large hall was lined with stalls that featured a selection of many different J-fashions but mostly that of the lollita variety not to mention plenty of plush toys and much cute art being sold. Although too much pink and purple kind of took over the place, a good helping of black other darker colours were dotted around the place. 

Not long after getting through the doors the ‘Cog Maiden’ dragged her fellow internet personality to the toilet to freshen up, re-applying their lipstick and fixing their lashes made them ready to face the crowds once again.

Suddenly, the door burst open and a very tall woman was dragging someone in with her 

“Come on, don’t worry I’ll get it fixed and I’ll stitch it back up” she reassured the crying girl, pulling a very ornate sewing kit from her equally beautiful handbag. They couldn’t help but watch as she fixed the large rip in the side of the other girls skirt, even adding a few buttons along the way for decoration. Looking at the repair she cried even more “OMG thank you so much waa” she couldn’t keep herself from hugging the tall lady very tightly “No problem” patting her softly on the head.

The newly happy girl ran out of the toilet to leave her tall friend behind “You did a real good job on that repair there” Charlotte couldn’t help but say and Willow behind her gave a big thumbs up and a grin. 

“Why thank you I do never go anywhere without my trusty sewing kit” she tucked said kit back into her decently sized bag. The three of them couldn’t help but gossip and walk around the main hall together, their new friend got along with Willow especially “So my name’s Zoey but most know me as Meime online” explaining as they all sat and had tea and coffee with each other. 

They were already discussing the online lollita community, Charlotte and Willow just got done explaining their online personas “Ah yes now that you mention it, I do remember you two from a daisy doo video” her eyes lit up with the realization that she had seen these two before.

The two Brits side eyed each other “Well I’ve some bad news for you, she’s quit!” Willow was the one to break the news as Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to do it. Zoey looked visibly upset but was quickly comforted by her new friends telling her of all the pretty frocks that they got from the retired internet personality “I think some might even fit you Zo” the bouncy blonde informed. 

The trio were already making plans for their new American friend to come visit the other two in the UK. As this was all going on Aimee was sitting behind the stage where all the lollita fashion models were doing a panel to an audience of mostly bonnet wearers. Hina was just finishing up answering questions from the crowd when it was Rio’s shot to talk, she mostly discussed the many creepy and spooky patterns that she has gotten to wear over the years.

“That's all from Elizabethy, does anybody have any questions?” immediately all of the ladies in black frantically gathered to ask their many burning questions “Aliceness how long have you and Elizabathy known each other?” another model asked Hina “coming up five years now” with that response she went back to watching Rio muddle her way through the question people asked her.

As they all left the conference hall, the wealthy French girl linked her arms with the Asian girl she had become acquainted with “I know of a wonderful place we should go for dinner after the con, my treat” Rio couldn’t help but cringe at her sickly sweet tone of voice, thankfully she did not see her facial expression.

“I absolutely love that idea” the other girl responded much more positively and with that the goth’s fate was sealed. Meanwhile, Zoey was preparing herself to leave with the two mildly ‘famous’ lollita girls “So how far is your hotel from here” satisfied by the answer they gave she texted her sister letting her know she would be spending the night with others. 

A fully decked out restaurant with pristine white walls and the fanciest of chandeliers, although they weren’t poor none of them were quite used to this level of wealth except for Aimee of course. They sat down on very well cushioned dining chairs and the tables were as highly decorated as the walls around them, with at least five different very fancy forks, a couple of knives and a few spoons.

“Oh wow these plates look so regal” of course Hina was mesmerized by this place, Rio couldn’t help but think but she's always been a bit more cynical with people than her dear friend “Oh you must really try the desserts from this place they are fantastic” when they had all finished their meal, they got to try out these desserts for themself. Rio couldn’t help but love her white chocolate and lime cheesecake, looking over Hina was already nearly finished with her strawberry tart with cream and of course the French girl had French macaroons in many pretty pastel colours. 

Eventually getting in after the train was delayed for about half an hour they de-petticoated as soon as they got in “So this is our humble abode Zoey” willow mockingly fanned out her arms to show off the whole room. Charlotte rolled her eyes, took her pigtails out and laid them down on her night stand. All of them couldn’t wait to get their makeup off and watch some internet videos, the conversation went from what they were watching to about Zoey’s personal life.

It mostly focused on her skills as a seamstress but the subject of her sister came up and her eyes seemed to sparkle with pride when discussing her sibling “Yeah my big sister’s so awe inspiring, she’s a photographer” the other two girls were drawn in by Zoey’s clear enthusiasm “that’s why I’ve been here for a week already because of her job” with that Willow couldn’t help but launch into questions about her sister’s photoshoot she was doing and Charlotte quickly followed suit with the interrogation. 

Sleep overcame them all and they continued their discussions the morning “Oh so what are the names of the models” The American looked a bit apprehensive about answering this question but they both promised her that they wouldn’t discuss it outside of this room “Okay there’s Aliceness, she mostly does hime style and Elizabethy is pretty much all gothic” when Charlotte heard the word gothic she perked up a little bit followed by Willow’s teasing. 

None of them really had time to search up the two lollita fashion girls as they wanted to make the breakfast buffet but it was still really cool to them that Zoey’s family member was involved with fashion photography and not to mention their favourite kind. Unbeknown to them across the street the two girls in question were having their own breakfast but they had room service and were preparing themselves for the day ahead which had them on shoot all day in the studio (around the city as well). 

As soon as Zoey found out about the shoot today she was able to convince her sister to let her friends come along. Charlotte promised to help out as they had studied photography in college, Willow wasn’t so quick to offer assistance “But Lotte it’s our holiday” she whinged but reluctantly agreed. The excitement was palpable although they would have to work hard helping out with lighting and such, the prospex of seeing and meeting Japanese models who exclusively wear their favourite fashion was too much Charlotte almost cried. 

The photographer was already hard at work before her beloved little sister came through the door “Emily! It’s me Zo, I’ve brought reinforcements” she yelled with a slight sing song tone. Emily wasted no time in briefing the girls on what she wanted them to do, it was mostly lighting related but they also offered a great deal of help with different backdrops

 “So what time are the models getting here sis?” she couldn’t help but ask as she set down everyone's cup of tea. Emily gave her phone a cursory glance “They should be here soon but the traffic here can always be a bit of a mess” so they sat and gabbed but the mature woman felt out of place with these youngsters but enjoyed their company anyway. 

Everyone’s attention was diverted to Hina and Rio entering the studio, Charlotte’s mouth was agasp; it was her! Their eyes met each other and for a good solid minute they just stared. 

Remembering that she had seen this cute blonde from a convention Rio was surprised that she was here but Charlotte was blushing profusely at the prospex of seeing gorgeous goth again and possibly getting to know her. “This is Hina Satō she does Hime style and Rio Itō is the gothic one” Emily informed “I hope you don’t mind but my sister and her new friends wanted to help out” She explained to the models who assured her it was fine with them and were thrilled when they found out that they too were into lolita fashion.

Although the two of them worked hard on their specific tasks, one posing and showing off clothes the other adjusting lighting and sorting props they couldn’t help but be a bit distracted by their subtle attraction to each other. Everyone was preparing to take the photoshoot outside around different locations in the city, all were very happy to get out of the very hot studio and into the fresh air. 

They did visit many lovely, lush parks but some dingy and dark locations were not out of the question either. One such place was an alleyway that was situated between two very similar looking  bakeries with plenty of seating out front (this is Paris after all) “Okay you two go set up over there, Stand here models, and you hold that reflector” Emily was being very commanding but they all knew to trust her judgement Charlotte was the one holding the reflector and she stood at the entrance of the alleyway, she admired how photogenic Rio was and got lost in thought about her this is how she became unaware of her surroundings.

Suddenly, she felt herself hit the concrete and a weight on top of her. 

It was Rio! “WHY were you just standing there not paying attention” she was frantic but the ditsy blonde didn’t know. What she had failed to realize was while her head was in the clouds someone on a moped was about to knock her down, luckily for her Rio’s sharp eye had noticed her absent mindedness and seen the driver in plenty of time to get her out of the way.

Charlotte upon realizing their position blushed, they both quickly stood up to get out of this awkward situation “Lotte what you doing you twit, almost getting run over”  the redhead was truly fiery now, luckily for the driver he had already apologized and left on his moped otherwise he might incurred the wrath of Willow (even though it was her friends own fault for standing on the road).

The absent minded girl couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about her idiocy however she was very grateful for the dark haired girls intervention. It made her feelings deepen. “Thank you Rio and I’m so sorry to everyone for causing trouble” The whole group was a little bit shook by what happened so all decided it was best to head back.

Not long after they had finally gotten a chance to sit down and enjoy some cups of tea and coffee (maybe some hot chocolate) a fancy looking and very clearly french girl came through the door. Hina's eyes lit up, she went over to her but Rio just sighed and face palmed herself. “I have made more plans for us” she cackled while clapping, of course Hina was overjoyed while her friend was less than amused. The rest of the group didn’t really get much acknowledgement from this girl named Aimee before she left with the two Asians.

Charlotte looked defeated, obviously upset by Rio’s departure. 

The photographer had gone off to tidy up, her sister and the redhead had recognised their friends clear sadness and asked about it. Willow was flabbergasted “You mean to tell me one of those models was that girl you’ve been thirsting after since that con!” she was damn near dancing at this point, Zoey was very amused by this whole thing “Aww it’s like something out of one of those rom-coms” quickly the two were hatching some crazy plans to get these girls together and in this moment Charlotte knew she had messed up. 

After they had all helped clean up the studio Emily wanted to take them all out for some drinks and a meal (nothing like Aimee’s fancy meals) The blonde was thoroughly embarrassed by the other two telling Emily about her crush on the model, “Come on Will and Zo there’s no need for this”. although she’d like to think of herself as the more mature one she couldn’t help but get roped into the other girls romance schemes. 

Waking up a little bit hungover from the night before however, they had only had a few drinks and a meal (they’re probably light weights) When Zoey’s sister called to make sure she was okay she poked fun at their ability to hold their alcohol. lounging about most of the morning till a call came about the bags with the pandas on it “Finally it took them long enough!” Willow obviously got all worked up about it but quickly calmed down after they said it would be delivered to the hotel later.

Delighted at the fact that she would finally be able to give Rio her gift, the two ‘cupids’ were thrilled by this development and were planning to use this (as they are now very much invested in seeing this possible couple come to be) they rested their elbows on her shoulders “well you have to give it to her lotte” they both cooed at her like a pigeon.

Now she couldn’t help but feel a bundle of nerves in the pit of her stomach at the thought of an audience “please don't embarrass me more than I'm going to embarrass myself” Charlotte pleaded. 

Rio lazed about in her hotel room with sweats and hair in a messy bun, whereas Hina was meticulously plucking her eyebrows “I just don’t see what the problem is, she seems perfectly nice to me” was her response to their argument about Aimee “Well I’m glad you like her but I’m not that fond of her” folding her arms in defiance and Hina just shrugged her shoulders, she was filing her nails now.  

Hina suggested they go get some fresh air outside their hotel and raved about a little coffee shop across the street next to the other hotel. As they made their way to the other side of the street they spotted the girls from yesterday that were helping the American photographer, Rio went over to say hi (as she would like some other company that wasn’t some fancy french girl) 

It amused them all to find out that the hotels where they were staying were across from each other. A small delivery van stopped, out came a driver who brought over a suitcase covered in pandas and asked for a Miss ‘Charlotte Rose White’ once it was handed over he was gone. 

Charlotte’s face was flushed, Rio just stood there confused as she watched her shaking hands reach into the bag and pull out a very spooky looking doll. 

Handing over the small gift “I wanted to give this to you at that convention as a thank you...for being so kind” Some parts of what Charlotte just said were too quiet to hear but Rio got what she meant anyway. She did have to admit it warmed her little black heart to know that a small interaction on her part made someone's day (it did help  that she found the girl in question very cute). 

Giving as much of a smile as she could muster “Thanks, she’s my child now” grasping the dolly close to her chest. Although Willow and Zoey were well aware of what was going on, Hina was left out of the loop “when did you two get soo friendly?” placing her arm around Rio’s shoulder and raising an eyebrow. 

Quickly being brought up to speed and flashing a cheeky grin to her friend “Ooh I see well that's nice” she spoke with a teasing tone, the five of them sat in the coffee shop together of course they mostly spoke about clothes and their online pseudonyms. When Charlotte and Rio both needed to go to the loo neither really talked to each other although they did exchange some soft glances and sweet smiles. 

Unbeknown to them that left the two schemers to their own devices and they quickly roped Hina into their plans “So we need to get these two on a date with each other” Some would say they’re a bit too enthusiastic about getting their pals together.

 Both were washing their hands but before they could go back and join their friends, Rio reached out her hand toward Charlotte's face, she closed her eyes “There you go, your little bunny clip was falling” speaking very softly. Opening her bright blue eyes to stare straight into those deep brown ones “thanks, you're too sweet Rio” pink still lay on her cheeks. Giggling a little at her  “your one to talk about sweetness Charlotte, I have the doll to prove it” giving a little wink, when they made it back to the table their friends were giving them a strange look (as if they were planning something).

Hina was the first to speak up “So Rio didn’t you say you wanted to go to Louvre Museum?” she had such a smug look on her face that her bestie was suspicious immediately “Yeah but you said that we didn’t have time for that” She retorted raising an eyebrow . Agreeing but quickly explaining that now they had some new pals who would probably like to go with her “Oh well it definitely won't be me I failed history so I’d just be lost” Willow was the first to back out “Ahh it can’t be me either I’ve already gone with Emily” Zoey just shrugged and smiled.

“Guess that leaves Charlotte then” hina said it in such a condescending way that it made Rio almost want to slap her, whereas the blonde just looked dumbfounded by this sudden request “I suppose I don’t mind museums my favourite part is always the art” her voice noticeably went up an octave when talking about the pretty art. 

Still annoyed by besties meddling Rio couldn’t help but be somewhat happy that Charlotte would want to go with her “Cool I guess we’ll go there tomorrow then” the masterminds were bursting with joy at the two future ‘lovers’.

Worry consumed Charlotte, she hadn’t gone on many dates as it isn't easy to approach women and talk to them (and don't get her started on dating apps). So to say she was inexperienced was an understatement, focusing on things like how should she wear her hair was all she could do to lessen the stress of it all. 

Rio didn’t have much more experience but was just a lot more chill about the whole thing, her friends had often told her she was like a robot with how nothing seemed to phase her. Making a good impression still sat in her mind though, deciding to wear something a bit more colourful than usual (although still very dark) to match pink a bit more.

Staring out the windows of their respective rooms were the masterminds of this whole date, looking down at their two friends meeting each other, chatting a little and walking away from the hotels. Everyone was itching to see how it might go but they knew that following them there to spy was more than a bad idea. 

The walk and subsequent train ride was unbelievably awkward but each other's company was enjoyable nonetheless. Most of what they talked about at first was Rio and her work , unlike other models she didn’t travel too much as Lolita was a fashion subculture mostly localized to Asia. Charlotte was just captivated by it all feeling like she had learned so much more although her date didn’t want to be the only one who chatted, when pressed on her career choice the blonde was hesitant to share because many have scoffed at her  ‘so called job’ as they would put it. 

Far from ridicule she got a positive response when explaining that she made videos about all sorts of things she likes mostly the clothing they both loved so much,  Promising to show some when they eventfully sat down for tea or coffee. Rio took her up on that offer and also promised to share her photo portfolio of some of her best modeling work, the dialogue between them slowed down somewhat as they relished in the egyption section especially our goth girl.

Charlotte’s favourite part was still to come, all that beautiful art with the golden frames she was practically drooling. They both knew that seeing the whole Louvre in a few hours would be very difficult so just focused on enjoying what they could, roaming through the gift shops Rio spied a tiny white vase adorned with pink flowers. Looking at her small gifted doll and back at the vase, she bought it.

Of course the British girl was distracted with the many lovely postcards to notice her date's stealthy purchase, both were finally relieved to sit down as their feet had gotten quite sore. as the two lovely ladies were sharing their many photos and videos with each other a certain ‘la dam’ had spotted them.  

Just as Rio was planning to give her date the little vase Aimee had to stick her nose in and join in the conversation (she took a spare chair at the table). “Hiya Rio, it’s so cool to see you here, where’s Hina?” Looking around until her gaze focused on the blonde her “Oh hello and whom

might you be?” Aimee gave a wide grin that Charlotte found unbelievably uncomfortable. 

Holding in a sigh “This is my date”  she put so bluntly to Aimee and “My name’s Charlotte it’s nice to meet you” cutting in to make this whole interaction less awkward or trying at least. She gave her the cold shoulder and grabbed a chair to sit down next to Rio, preventing the girls on said date from looking at one another. 

Almost pulling her black hair out in frustration at Aimee’s rudeness but Rio didn’t say a word (it would be more hassle to chastise her and cause issues between her and Hina), sitting there and just watching this random French lady completely ignoring her existence.

 Barely an hour had passed before the ‘lovely‘ lady had gotten a phone call and was on her way, leaving them alone at last to bask in each other’s company. 

“I am so sorry, she’s Hina’s friend and unfortunately has spent a lot of time with her” Huffing loudly after finishing speaking. Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from laughing (probably from being too nervous about the whole thing), Rio did join in and they just giggled about the whole thing and made lots of jokes about it on the journey back to their hotels. 

The date had gotten to the point of the goodbyes as they stood where they had met hours earlier,. if this hadn’t been their first date they probably would have kissed at this point but at last it was, so they just gave each other a gentle hug.

“Oh lotte, here I saw this in the gift shop” handing the little vase over to the blonde who’s month was in an O shape and thanked her sweetly for said tiny gift “No problem, after all you did get me my daughter” holding the small doll in her hand and winking.

Charlotte's face was quickly becoming her favourite colour, pink. 

As they both got to the front entrance of their respective hotels they looked back at each other and smiled while also waving goodbye. 

While all this was going on the ones who had set this whole arrangement up were watching intently and fawned over the fact they had cuddled. 

[rowecommaadam]

Terran Trade Authority Interview

Okay, this big text-heavy post isn’t from me. You can find it online over at this website. It’s a great interview with Stewart Cowley, author of the Terran Trade Authority sci-fi art book series from 1978-1980. 

I’m just reposting this as kind of a backup. Cowley doesn’t have many interviews out there, but his candid thoughts are the best secondary materials out there on the TTA. There’s no reason why the original site would go away (and honestly no reason why this tumblr post won’t be erased either!), but a few redundancies can’t hurt. The rest of this post is in the voice of the original interviewer, Philip Banks:

Some time back I got a very pleasant surprise in the form of an email from Stewart Cowley himself. In fact it was something of a shock for me - it simply wasn't something I expected to get despite having had contact from the other Stewart Cowley who is also writing books. Not only that but he supplied a lot of information on the hows and whys of the books. Accordingly, with his permission, I've taken the emails he sent me and edited them into an interview of sorts. I hope fellow TTA fans find it as interesting to read as I did.

Without further ado, here is Stewart himself...

(Stewart Cowley) Someone mentioned your site to me so I checked it out. It brought back a host of memories. Spacecraft 2000-2100AD was the first book I ever wrote and represented a major point of change in my life. I was working as a graphic designer when I had the idea. I was doing work with an illustration agency called Young Artists based in London UK. They happened to represent a new generation of brilliant artists working in the SF arena, and I was really excited about their work. The only outlet for their illustrations at the time were paperback covers, but I felt convinced more could be done with the amazing images they were producing.

I persuaded them to loan me file transparencies of art samples and had them stuck on my lightbox for a couple of weeks. I'd look at them every day, trying to think how they could be utilised. Then one day I remembered a book I'd had seen as a child. It was Jane's Fighting Ships - a survey of the world's navies - and it hit me. Spacecraft 2000-2100 AD was born. Being a designer rather than a writer, I tried to find someone to author the project but couldn't find anyone with the same vision as I had. I wanted someone who could not only create specifications for the spacecraft shown, but set them in a believeable historic context.

I had already discussed the project with Hamlyn Publishing who wanted to do it and issued a contract. As I was running out of time, I started writing it myself and sent sample text to them to keep them quiet to buy time until I could find a suitable author. They liked it, so I thought, what the hell, and finished it. The rest is history as they say.

(Philip Banks) That actually answers a question I was going to ask , which was whether Janes Fighting Ships was an inspiration for the first book particularly.

(SC) The book went on to sell 800,000 copies in eight languages so they asked me to do a sequel. Space Battles was produced in 3 weeks and as you rightly point out in your review, suffered in quality as a result. That also did well, nevertheless, and they commissioned a further title. The strong sales of both books gave me more clout and I was able to insist on having more time to complete the following two titles; Spacewreck and Starliners.

I'm afraid I must also own up to the Galactic Encounters series by Steven Caldwell. I'm not proud of those six books. I was approached by another publisher to write for them, and they offered me enough money for me to quit my job as a designer and become a full-time writer. I confess that I just did it for the dough and all I had to work with were the images that I had rejected for my earlier books. It wasn't only for contractual reasons that I used the pseudonym of Steven Caldwell. So that's the story behind the TTA in a nutshell.

Incidentally, there isn't a combo of the second two TTA titles as far as I'm aware.

(PB) What was the idea behind the combo books? Simply a way for the publisher to re-use material and get more sales or was it a way to do a reprint of the first two books when the later two came out?

(SC) The combo was the publisher's response to requests from their customers who apparently felt there was a demand for it.

(PB) You mentioned pretty much authoring the series entirely yourself - how did Charles Herridge, co-author on Great Space Battles, fit into the picture?

(SC) Charles was the publisher who commissioned the books from me. Because of the almost impossible deadline he contributed some of the storylines and worked closely with me on others so I felt he should share the writing credit.

(PB) Whose idea was the 'Space Warriors' book? It seems to have been the idea of the TTA Books stripped down and targeted at nine to twelve year old readers, so was it a publisher request?

(SC) The request for a title for younger readers came from a publisher (Deans, I think). I was still living in the world of TTA and decided to keep the context for the stories in this title.

(PB) Is this the only direct spin off book from the TTA series?

(SC) Yes, as far as I'm aware. However, there may have been references to the TTA in the Galactic Encounter series, but I haven't looked these for about 25 years so might be wrong.

(PB) It has to be asked, what was the story behind the 'pasta master' modelmaking running joke?

(SC) I'd forgotten about this but it was a nickname I earned at that time because as my friends constantly reminded me it was the only thing I could cook. In order to try and interest some interest in my limited catering, I used to build exotic constructions out of pasta shells, giant clams, alien heads etc.,and stuck together with melted cheese to hide the unchanging sauces beneath.

(PB) Did any of the artists featured in the books thank you for promoting their work via these books? Do any keep in contact with you?

(SC) Yes. After the success of the first book, some of them got more involved and I worked with them on the selections. One or two had not done a lot of work before and the exposure in the books got them more work. I did stay in contact with one or two, like Chris Foss who went on to great things, but the currents of life eventually took us different ways.

(PB) Where you aware that the TTA books were a big influence on the two Homeworld games made by Relic?

(SC) Not at all. I didn't even know about them. If that's true, it's nice to know that the books meant something to some people. Most writers don't really get much in the way of feedback on their work and positive responses mean a lot.

(PB) Which is your favourite book of the series and why?

(SC) The first one was a milestone because it helped to change my life and created lots of opportunities for me. As a book, though, Spacewreck is my personal favourite. Space itself is a mysterious place and I loved the idea of astro-archaeology - starting with a mysterious artefact and working back to try and unravel it's story. Even if it is fiction, the process embodies the same sense of curiosity and a sense of the truly alien.

(PB) Was it a surprise to find a website out there dedicated to your books? Indeed are you surprised at how popular these books have turned out to be?

(SC) A complete surprise! Especially after so many years. When I wrote these, I don't remember there even being a world wide web available to people!

I want to thank Stewart for taking the time to answer these questions in such a candid fashion. Not only were the answers informative but it has solved a long standing mystery as readers of the TTA pages had been emailing me for some time about the Galatic Encounters series being very similar to the TTA books.

[pennamepersona]

Where's the Logic in Giving Up Love and Morals When You Don't Want a New Job, Anyway

-All appropriate tags available on the ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346800 -

“And of course, we’ll need you to terminate your professional association with Deadpool,” The agent says, and Peter’s head snaps up to look at them, not even pretending to scan the contract in front of him any longer.

“Come again?” Peter asks, making no effort to mask his irritation.

“Deadpool is not an acceptable individual for a SHIELD employee to be known to associate with,” The agent says, sounding surprised that Peter is finally saying something. “His methods are not condoned by the agency.”

Peter just stares in disbelief for a long moment.

“You are aware that SHIELD has assassins on staff, right?” He asks. “Like, assassins plural. As in more than one.”

“The less commonly accepted methods that SHIELD has employed are not public knowledge.” The agent says. “Deadpool’s methods are very well-known and generally frowned upon.”

Peter takes a deep breath and leans his forehead on one hand.

“You’re all such awful hypocrites,” He says, exhausted and upset down to his bones, but unwilling to lash out in an enclosed room with only a SHIELD agent and himself inside. He doesn’t trust SHIELD at all, has stayed away from any and all of their offers for as long as he could, but came to this interview anyway, if only to get them off his back.

He never intended to actually sign on as a - what was the title again? something like, “exclusive super-powered freelance agent through the Avenger’s initiate” - but figured there was no better way to get them to stop asking than to hear them out and summarily reject them.

Now he’s wondering if it was really worth it.

“I understand that your relationship with Deadpool will likely continue regardless,” The agent says, smoothly, and Peter wishes they’d stop talking because he really, really wants to punch them, and that seems unwise right now. “We only ask that it remain out of the public eye.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Peter says, standing up and walking over to the door, hoping that it’ll open for him without fuss. “I already wasn’t interested in the job, but if you’re going to keep up with this shitty double standard for Wade, you can consider me completely off SHIELD’s contact list for good.”

“Spider-man, please,” The agent says, a touch of concern in their voice now. “We ask that you reconsider. The good that you’d be able to do if you joined - ”

“I do plenty of good now.” Peter says, turning back to glare coldly at the agent, who actually flinches slightly. Coward. “A lot of it thanks to Deadpool’s help. Now, are you going to let me out, or do I have to call for help?”

The agent gulps, pressing a button under their desk, and the door swings open. Peter marches out of it without a backward glance, practically running through the building to the nearest window, which he jumps out of almost on instinct, shooting out a strand of web to catch himself, immediately swinging to the next building, and then the building beyond, until he lands on the roof of Wade’s apartment complex.

He goes down the fire escape, skipping every other step, sliding easily through the window to Wade’s living room once he reaches it.

“Wade,” He calls, yanking off his mask and taking a deep breath of non-filtered air. “I’m back, where are you?”

“Bedroom, Peter-man,” Wade calls back, and just at the sound of his voice, Peter feels some of the tension bleed out of him. He goes into Wade’s bedroom, almost entirely packed into boxes that will soon be taken to their new apartment. The little thrill that Peter always gets at the thought of them finally moving in together still comes, and though it doesn’t lift his spirits entirely, it goes a fair way to improving his mood.

“How was the job interview?” Wade asks, half-laughing as he tosses shirts haphazardly into a box. Peter pulls them out and starts folding them, then replacing them carefully into the box, smiling as he sees that about a third of them are either shirts he’s left here or Wade stole from him ages ago.

“Awful,” Peter says, honestly. “I already wasn’t interested in the job, but then they said if I took it, I couldn’t associate with you as Spider-Man anymore.”

“Whaaaaaaat?” Wade says, drawing out the word into a half-whine. “But I’ve been cleaning up my act! Seventy-five percent less unnecessary violence, Peter, and sixty percent less killing overall, and them’s good numbers! I’d like to see SHIELD pull out those kinds of results from their butt murderers.”

“Assassins,” Peter corrects, absently. “And yeah, I know. I told them they were being hypocrites, and that if they kept it up, Spider-Man wasn’t going to respond to any of their calls, anymore. Scared the agent pretty good, too, so hopefully it sticks.”

“Aw, spidey, you do care,” Wade says, putting a hand to his face and striking a ridiculous pose straight out of a bad anime. Peter half expects Wade to call him “senpai” next.

“Dude, we’re literally moving in together,” He says, laughing. “If I didn’t care, I sure wouldn’t be subjecting myself to your messy ass twenty-four seven.”

“Love you too, pumpkin,” Wade grins, closing the shirt box and taping it shut. “Now then, what’s your sweet self craving for dinner?”

“How about that sushi place down the street?” Peter suggests, and judging by Wade’s squeal, he’s made a good choice. “My turn to pay, remember.”

“See if you can beat me to it, then,” Wade challenges, chuckling when Peter flicks his forehead before grabbing a change of clothes from one of the few drawers that hasn’t been packed up.

“Gimme ten minutes and then we can get going,” He says, brushing a quick kiss to Wade’s lips.

“I’ll drag your ass outside if you’re not done in five,” Wade says, pinching said ass as he walks by, laughing loudly at the subsequent yelp.

“You should probably find a new roof to hang out on, now,” Clint says, striding casually over to where Peter’s lying on his back, looking up at the clouds as they slowly turn from white to faintly pink and purple, reflecting the setting sun.

“Wade said to wait here,” Peter says, not moving. “And so here I wait.”

Clint doesn’t say anything back, just drops to lay next to Peter in companionable silence, which Peter expects won’t last long, but appreciates nonetheless.

“You really made a statement at that interview,” Clint says, after a minute or so of quiet, which is longer than Peter thought he’d last, so really, props to Clint. “Pissed a few people off, especially once the footage from the security feed got stolen. They might unofficially suspect Deadpool, but not enough to do anything about it.”

“Wade didn’t,” Peter says, almost certain.

“He did not,” Clint agrees. “I did.”

“Why?” Peter asks, honestly surprised. He turns to look Clint in the eyes, but Clint’s still staring up at the sky.

“Because you’re right.” He says, sounding just a bit tired. “SHIELD has a shitty double standard, and besides that, Wade does damn good work. He’s not subtle enough for them, is their problem, but honestly, fuck that. Wade’s probably the most honest out of all of us, and if that makes it so they can’t use him, that’s probably a good thing.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a longer moment than originally planned, too shocked by Clint’s outburst of emotion against the agency he’s been working with for a long time, to Peter’s understanding, to be certain of what to say. Clint just sighs, long and more than a bit tired, now.

“I like Wade,” He says. “We don’t hang out a lot, but when we do, he’s a breath of fresh air. I can only let my guard down around so many people, and Wade’s right up there with Nat for easiest person to talk to. I respect him and how he does his work and lives his life. I’ve done a lot of objectionable shit in my life, and I’m sure I’ll do more, but I’m not about to just sit there and see Wade Wilson get bad mouthed. Mild annoyances might be all I’m up to at the moment, but you two’ve got me in your corner, alright?”

“Okay,” Peter says, still unsure of what to make of all this, but then Clint snaps upright and scratches at the side of his head and yawns.

“Welp, that’s all the emotion and sincerity I’m due for today,” He says, stretching and popping out his hearing aids. “Tell Wade I said hey.”

Peter gives him a thumbs up, which Clint nods at before jumping off the side of the tower to what Peter assumes is some kind of safe ledge. He doesn’t hear any crashes or shouting, and he’s seen Clint do way more risky looking maneuvers and come out fine, so he isn’t worried.

“Spidey-pie!” Wade shouts, dropping down onto the roof from seemingly nowhere, startling Peter more than he cares to admit.

“Wade, you scared me,” Peter says, standing up and leaning hard into Wade’s firm body. “Clint says hey, by the way.”

“Oh, rhymes,” Wade purrs. “I’ll tell the purple bird hells-o next time I see him, but not tonight. We’ve got date night, and I’m not about to forfeit that, even for a good ol’ pal like Hawk’s Eye. Wow, and he’s even blonde, too. Not a lot of personality similarities, though, so I guess it’s just the sharpshooting. She did guns, too, and Barton’s way more into the old-fashioned bow and all those Cupid’s arrows aimed towards platonic appreciation, isn’t he?”

“I’ll take you at your word,” Peter says, guiding Wade’s arms around him before leaping off Avenger’s Tower into freefall, catching them about halfway down at the exact second before Wade’s shrieks hit an uncomfortable pitch. “Where to, babe?”

“August fourth!” Wade shouts, and Peter rolls his eyes with enough fondness that his chest clenches, steering them in the general direction of a Mexican place he can remember going to sometime last fall, knowing that Wade will guide him if he goes the wrong way.

Peter’s about 84% of the way through finishing up with his current project, so he’s completely planning on staying overnight to push through and just be done. It absolutely isn’t the first time he’s done it, and he knows it won’t be the last, especially since he’s still doing this after finishing his Master’s six months ago. Beyond that, it isn’t as though he lacks for company in the labs, even at two in the morning.

What is surprising, though, is the company he has tonight. This morning. Whatever, he’s had coffee, but not enough for a worthwhile thought process that isn’t attached to his work.

“‘Sup?” Peter asks, absently, poking a small and obscenely sharp scalpel at tiny filaments.

“Do I have to do small talk before I say the important thing?” Dr. Banner asks. “Because I’m still not good at that.”

“Nope,” Peter says. “Get real, Dr. Banner. I live with Deadpool, I gave up small talk a long time ago. Also, I suck at it, too.”

“I’m positive I’ve told you before to call me Bruce,” Dr. Banner says, sounding a bit tired, but when Peter glances up, he’s smiling.

“You’ve got, like, a bajillion PhDs, Dr. Banner. Gonna show some respect. Besides, I like you.” Peter says, setting his small scalpel down, just in case this conversation requires actual mental fortitude.

“Seven PhDs, actually.” Dr. Banner says.

“Dude, it’s two in the morning and I’m doing science. I respect you, but not enough to remembers details at two in the morning when I’m doing science.” Peter says, leaning heavily into the lab table.

“It’s five thirty,” Dr. Banner says, looking a bit concerned.

“Oh,” Peter says. “Well, that’s cool. So what’s up?”

“Um,” Dr. Banner says, showcasing off his finely honed communication skills. “I heard about Wade and SHIELD.”

“Did he do something recently?” Peter asks, trying to go back through the past month or so and recall Wade saying anything particularly odd that could’ve been translated to ‘I blew up a SHIELD helicarrier because I wanted to test a new cocktail of explosives’ if someone Not-Wade had said it.

“Not that I know of, but probably,” Dr. Banner says. “Just sort of judging by his usual - anyway, no, I meant what you said during your interview.”

“Oh, that,” Peter says. “SHIELD sucks. No offense, Dr. Banner, I know they’re what keeps you and your research going smoothly, but I’m not a fan.”

“Neither am I, if I’m being honest,” Dr. Banner says. “But Asgardian research grants aren’t really a thing, and the research I do is important enough to be worth dealing with a clearly corrupt and dangerous agency.”

“I’m betting that having a boyfriend who’s a literal god and could kick SHIELD’s collective ass doesn’t hurt,” Peter notes, which makes Dr. Banner flush faintly and nod.

“That, too. But you are right, is the point, specifically about how they treat Deadpool. I don’t know him personally, but I know you well enough after working with you for this long to trust your judgement of him. I’ve seen how much he helps you with, um, with your mental state.”

“He gets it,” Peter says, simply, not quite sure if he’s making sense but very sure that he’s tired and probably isn’t going to end up finishing his project tonight. This morning. Seriously, whatever.

“I can see that,” Dr. Banner smiles, again. “I just wanted to let you know that, while this is technically a SHIELD facility, you and Deadpool are supported by Thor and me, which Thor said, loudly, to some of the SHIELD staff who were talking about revoking your access to the building.”

“Oh, shit,” Peter says. “Whoa, thanks Dr. Banner. That’s. I didn’t know that was happening, though I should’ve guessed, probably, but anyway, thanks so much, jesus, that’s really good of you guys.”

“I like to think we get it,” Dr. Banner says, a bit wryly, which makes Peter laugh.

“Yeah, I think you do,” Peter says. “Now, not that this hasn’t been a great talk, but I’m gonna call my boyfriend to pick me up, now, because I don’t think I’m actually conscious enough to get home on my own.”

“You have friends in all directions,” Wade murmurs, the rumbling in his chest making Peter sigh softly, leaning further into him.

“We both do,” Peter says, taking his volume cues from Wade. “They see you. They might not know you like I do, but not everyone on the outside pretends you’re unmanageable.”

“So I’m hearin’,” Wade says. “Nice to be appreciated.”

“You deserve it,” Peter says, leaning up to kiss him. Wade returns the kiss, but keeps it soft, gentle, unhurried.

“Deservin’ ain’t a part of lovin’,” Wade says against his lips. Peter hums his assent and leans back in, savoring the taste of his concrete happiness.

[merryfortune]

Educative Purposes

Fandom: Star Twinkle PreCure

Ship: Hikaru/Lala

Word Count: 2.1k

Synopsis:  Hikaru demonstrates to Lala various types of Earthling kisses, for purely educative purposes, of course.

  “What’s that, lun?” Lala asked, eyes widening, as she pointed to the television.

  Her body lifted slightly beneath the blanket that she and Hikaru had been sharing. They were having a movie marathon because Hikaru thought it would be fun and Lala thought it had the potential to be educational. Through fiction, she figured that she would come to learn more of Earth – and Japan’s – customs.

  Hikaru hummed as she lifted herself off the floor as well. She scooted in closer, feeling a little chill in the air, one she had escaped from rather successfully by sharing her bed and blankets with Lala as they watched the movies on her miniature television her parents had allowed her to borrow for the night.

  “You mean the kiss, right?” Hikaru asked for clarification as she paused the movie, she re-wound it a few seconds and now the male and female protagonists were eternally locked on the lips until Hikaru permitted them to stop.

  “Yes, lun. The kiss, lun.” Lala said. “It seems awfully unhygienic, lun. After all, that’s where the food goes, lun. Why mash faces together like that, lun?”

  Hikaru laughed. “Because its romantic!” she squealed. “Well… not when you phrase it like that. It does sound a little icky when you put it that way but I’m sure the actors brushed their teeth beforehand.”

  Lala still screwed up her face in disgust. Hikaru laughed some more, she thought the way Lala’s nose wrinkled was rather cute. She pouted in turn though, disliking that Hikaru was finding some sort of amusement in the situation when she could not.

  “So, is kissing a common Earth custom, lun?” Lala asked.

  “Hm, I guess so. I hear that some cultures don’t have kissing at all, but many do.” Hikaru replied. “Like, kissing in public is bit of a no-no but in foreign movies, especially American ones, it’s not as taboo. Like, there are different kinds of kisses, too.”

  “Hm…” Lala hummed. “Like what sort, lun? Are they all as unhygienic as this mouth-to-mouth contact business, lun?”

  “Uh, well… Kisses on the forehead, on the cheek, on your hands… They all mean different things too. Mouth-to-mouth kissing is restricted to couples, mostly – especially with tongue!” Hikaru chirruped before dissolving into laughter which her alien companion didn’t understand the humour of.

  “Disgusting, lun.” Lala’s skin crawled.

  Hikaru laughed. “Ne, ne, can I kiss you Lala?”

  “What, lun?” Lala exclaimed, eyebrows twinged, and her mouth hung agape.

  “Like I said. All sorts of kisses. Like for instance, a kiss on the cheek is platonic! For friends. And we’re friends right, let me welcome you to Earth with some good old fashion Earthling kisses.” Hikaru said.

  Lala prickled. “It could help me understand Earth culture better, lun…” she mumbled. She huffed. “Very well then, lun.”

  She angled her face towards Hikaru. Hikaru grinned widely and she chastely pecked Lala’s cheeks. She was surprised by how soft Lala’s skin was but, Hikaru could feel some sort of dander on her lips; it felt chalky. Meanwhile, Lala was miffed by how wet Hikaru’s lips were and there was a rather fruity smell on her, Lala now realised about Hikaru. Hikaru leaned back and gave Lala space to process it. She placed her fingers on her cheeks.

  “I suppose that wasn’t too bad, lun…” she mumbled.

  “Aw, I’m glad, Lala.” Hikaru smiled. “And forehead kisses are usually done between family members, as a sort of “I love you” and I love you a lot as well, Lala. Do you love me?”

  Lala blushed. She didn’t understand how Hikaru could use such phrases so freely and with such an open heart. But she relented.

  “Very well then, lun.” she replied. “I – I lo-love you too, lun.”

  “D’aww, thank you very much.” Hikaru said.

  Lala leaned in again, angling her face downwards this time. Hikaru pecked her forehead, right between the brows. This time, she felt slightly bolder. The kiss was chaste, but it lasted a few seconds longer. She could feel Lala radiate with the warmth of embarrassment as she later withdrew herself from Lala’s personal space.

  “Did you like that one?” Hikaru asked.

  “I did, actually, lun. I feel very loved in a very Earthling way, now, lun.” Lala replied.

  “That’s so good.” Hikaru exclaimed. “And, um, what other kisses are there…? Oh! Some people kiss on the ears!”

  “Ears, lun?!” Lala gasped and she panickily covered her ears.

  Hikaru laughed. “Yep, a kiss on the ears is another “I love you” type kiss, but I guess all kisses convey “I love you” one way or another… But I think ear kisses are platonic. I think it depends on the person. I think so long as the other person likes it, it should be fine.”

  “I have very sensitive ears, Hikaru, lun. Don’t be so selfish, lun.” Lala complained. But she relaxed. “Fine, very well then, lun.”

  “Thank you, Lala.” Hikaru beamed.

  This time, Hikaru came closer to Lala. She brushed her lips up against Lala’s pointed ears. She was surprised by how firm the cartilage was, maybe it was because of the unusual shape. Lala shivered at the touch, however light and then withdrew immediately. Hikaru smiled and gave Lala space again. Lala hugged herself and she was going a rather bright red.

  “Are you okay?” Hikaru asked.

  “I’m just embarrassed, lun.” Lala confessed, her voice was hasty.

  Hikaru blinked. “Embarrassed?” she echoed.

  “Yes, lun. Embarrassed, lun. We don’t do this sort of thing on my home planet, lun. B-But I wish we did, so I wouldn’t feel this way, lun. My heart is racing very, very hard but it’s nice, lun. You kiss very well, Hikaru, lun. I – I want to be kissed by you more, lun.”

  “I want to kiss you more as well.” Hikaru replied.

  “Wh-What other sorts of kisses are there on Earth, lun?” Lala replied, glancing away from her companion.

  “Hm, well, there are also respectful kisses. A kiss on the hand is considered more respectful than as a platonic, familial, or romantic gesture. It’s the sort of thing done between princess and princes.” Hikaru said.

  Upon hearing that, Lala held out her hand. Hikaru held onto it gently, their fingers gliding against one another’s. Hikaru’s fingers were so long and slender compared to Lala’s. Her fingers were rather short and stubby, the webbing on them more pronounced as well. Hikaru partially wondered if it was because Lala’s antennae had more bodily significance than her hands.

  Hikaru brushed her mouth over Lala’s knuckles. Her hands stiffened slightly before relaxing. Hikaru smiled into the kiss, a slow and sensual act. Lala was almost sad when Hikaru lifted up her head again, so she could flash another smile unto Lala’s face. Lala mutedly returned the sentiment; there was a sparkle in her eyes though which betrayed her more guarded expression.

  “You’re my princess, Lala.” Hikaru told Lala in a gentle, almost hushed voice. “My space princess from beyond the milky way.”

  Lala smiled and she had to clamp down on a bubble of laughter in her mouth. “You’re my space princess, as well, Hikaru, from the beautiful blue planet, lun.” she replied.

  “There’s really only one common type of kiss left, Lala.” Hikaru informed her.

  “A kiss on the mouth, lun… Yes?” Lala confirmed, her brows knitted together in what was either seriousness or disgust.

  “A-yup.” Hikaru nodded. “But, if you don’t want to, you don’t ha-”

  Lala clamped one hand onto Hikaru’s shoulders and then completed the distance. Hikaru made a smothered noise, her eyes widening as Lala ardently kissed her, but she let her lips close more partially. She closed her eyes to Lala and kissed back. She had never kissed someone on the lips before, but it was extremely and extraordinarily exciting. Her nerves felt frantic. Sparked alight by the sensations, or maybe just because Lala had decided to hold onto Hikaru as well using her antennae and they were inadvertently sending shocks into her, but she didn’t mind.

  Lala’s kiss was forceful, but awkward. Hikaru liked it though. It was kind of silly, yet very her. So, she kissed back into the mess. She kept her lips tightened together as she pressed against Lala’s. In this close proximity, Hikaru could smell Lala quite distinctly. She smelt completely unearthly, like nothing Hikaru could describe using words that she knew on Earth.

  But, fortunately, Hikaru could smell – and even taste – on Lala which were identifiable to her arsenal of descriptions. She could smell her blanket on Lala, the wafting fragrance of the laundry soap as it had been washed this morning in preparation of her and Lala’s movie night. Hikaru could also vaguely taste the popcorn and doughnuts they had been eating throughout the movie. She thought that all these smells and tastes would be funny to experience all mashed up in a kiss, but she was pleasantly wrong. What a wonderful thing to discover.

  In the back of her mind, as Hikaru kissed Lala, she wondered if the alien girl was having similar thoughts.

  And, unsurprisingly, Lala was having similar about the alien – the earthling – girl before her. She thought Hikaru was strange. Very strange. This was very much conveyed in how they kissed: mouth to mouth, as bizarre and unhygienic as it was. Hikaru was very soft and she wore strawberry lip balm. Hikaru’s essence which Lala found by connecting with her like this, was composed of many easily identifiable substances to Lala: carbon, oxygen, carbon-dioxide, and so many more elements and how they all stacked upon each other to make a human. Specifically, the human known as Hoshina Hikaru whom Lala was swiftly falling in love with. But it was completely and totally different when their mouths were pressed up against each other like this.

  And most curiously of all, Lala actually quite liked it. But she supposed that was what the chemical known as love did. It erased all the icky bits and made her yearn for more, even when she pulled back and finally ended the kiss. Lala panted slightly when their lips parted from one another. Hikaru was breathless and her magenta eyes keenly shined. Lala felt her guts all squirm against each other; she flexed her fingers and blushed. Her antennae tentatively floating upwards not unlike shoulders turning to hackles.

  “That was, um, that was unprecedented, lun…” Lala murmured.

  “More like… twin-cool!” Hikaru replied, gleeful and grinning and in her catch phrase, all the beats she had missed exploded since she could rarely go two seconds without uttering it.

  Lala smiled awkwardly. “I’m flattered to hear that, lun.”

  “We should kiss more often than, Lala.” Hikaru smugly said through a huge and toothy grin.

  “I don’t disagree, lun.” Lala replied, demure and uppity and in denial of her truer feelings.

  “Then how about one more kiss? Just one.” Hikaru suggest.

  Lala was scandalised by the question. She sputtered with her eyes widening. She couldn’t believe there were yet more places to kiss and be kissed. They had done hands, ears, mouths, cheeks, foreheads: it was all too much!

  “W-Where, lun?” Lala stuttered.

  Hikaru giggled as she raised a hand to Lala. Her fingers entwined on the thin thread which connected Lala’s sensory orbs to her head. Lala’s heart skipped a beat whilst Hikaru guided them to her mouth. Lala licked her lips then swallowed as this kiss elicited more in her than any of the previous kisses.

  The mouth-to-mouth one had inspired courage and bravado. The kisses previous had inspired curiosity amongst other things. But this kiss was simply electric. There was a twinkle of mischief in Hikaru’s eyes as she pressed her lips delicately against the orbs, which had a gelatine-like feel to them, which decorated the ends of her antennae.

  Lala’s face reddened and her heart beat pounded harder than it had ever pounded before. “O-Oh, lun…” she mumbled, stuttering through her growing infatuation. “Th-There, lun.”

  “Yep, right there.” Hikaru replied. Her gaze quickly darted away from Lala who was the perfect picture of cuteness. “Did you like it…?”

  “Loved it, lun. We should experiment more, lun. F-For educative purposes, of course, lun.”

  Hikaru laughed. “Yeah, for educational purposes, for sure.”

  There was a sort of sarcasm was pronounced in her voice, but Lala liked it. Lala liked it a lot. And Hikaru liked that a lot, as well. Her lips tingled in an electrified grin which Lala shyly met with her antennae shyly reaching back out to Hikaru’s hand.

  “Should we keep watching the movie?” Hikaru awkwardly asked.

  “That sounds nice, lun. Especially now that I have a more thorough understanding of these Earth customs, I can better appreciate the nuance, lun.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Hikaru replied, sounding chuffed.

  So, she and Lala settled again after all that kissing. They shared the blankets between one another and Hikaru grabbed another bag of chocolates for them to tear into. She smiled as she brushed up against Lala, who was comfortable again beside Hikaru beneath the soft, weighted fabric of the blanket. Hikaru pressed play and the movie night continued without hitch.

[bubotv-blog]

The Importance of Diversity inside the Fashion Industry

In the United States, injustice is common in our system, where hegemony rules over a society and out lash against opposing groups.  And many times, it goes unaddressed or unchanged for way longer than it should. This is why it’s important to maintain cultural equity in the art world and to challenge inequities to make change happen.  In order to have a healthy society, there needs to be equal access to inspire creativity for young prominent artists (cultural equity).

There are many reasons as to why cultural equity is so important, an example of this comes from a Swedish retailer called Hennes and Mauritz (H&M).  On 7 January 2018, the retailer was criticized for putting a dark-skinned child model in a green sweatshirt saying “Coolest Monkey in the Jungle.”  Soon after, social media users accused H&M of being racist for comparing a comparing the dark-skinned boy to a monkey (Bjerre).

The controversy was immediately picked up by the media worldwide the next day, despite the sweatshirt being only published in the United States and the United Kingdom website.  Being so exposed, H&M was forced to give a public apology.  Soon after, removing the ad and replacing it with a generic photo of the sweatshirt, now no longer available for purchase in several countries, including the United States. However, consumers moved away from the retailer due to the controversy, refusing to buy anything from the company (Bjerre).

By the 18th, H&M as a response to the controversy, explained that they would hire more people of diversity so as to prevent a similar incident from happening again.  A display as to what extent as to what consumers will go to when a company displays negative aspects in their products.  And this shows the increasing importance of diverse leadership in the workplace (Bjerre).

A similar incident was brought upon the Italian luxury brand Gucci after the company released a turtleneck sweater that resembled blackface.  The black turtleneck featured a pull-up collar with a cutout mouth and bright red lips. According to the brand’s Creative Director Alessandro Michele, it was meant to be an homage to the flamboyant Australian performance artist and designer Leigh Bowery (Wharton).

However, it only spurred on the intensive backlash with not just consumers, but celebrities as well. Director Spike Lee used his social media to urge followers to boycott the brand.  Musician 50 Cent posted himself setting fire to a Gucci T-shirt on Instagram.  And in the same month, singer Katy Perry removed shoes from her collection as shoppers said it was similar to blackface.  Then Gucci collaborator Dapper Dan tweets, “There cannot be inclusivity without accountability. I will hold everyone accountable,” inviting the company’s chief executive to meet with him in Harlem (Wharton).

“A mea culpa and quick withdrawal of the offensive products is the right short-term strategy,” said professor at New York University’s Stern School of Business and a luxury branding strategist Thomai Serdari, who later states that the long-term strategy should be hiring a more diverse workforce.  However, it requires the company and others to have a sit down with their executives to convince and reconsider a more inclusive hiring strategy but in an honest and authentic way (Wharton).

Both Thomai Serdari and marketing professor of Lehigh University Ludovica Cesareo explain the headlines go deeper than just the momentary outrage (the two professors visited the Knowledge@Wharton radio show on Sirius XM to discuss the issues facing the fashion houses).  It is an example for up and coming companies to understand the global market and consumer values.  Especially now, where the generation is more diverse and do not tolerate cultural bias that were so evident in past marketing campaigns.  As Cesareo explains, “Advertising speaks to the current times, especially from a cultural perspective.  Through the advertisements that brands put out, but also the products that they design and decide to sell in the market, brands are taking stands on certain social issues.”  And Serdari agreed, stating that these companies and others need to understand how much influence they have and what they should put out on the market.  Or, at least, try not to offend a part of American culture (Wharton).

Americans would initially speculate that the problem is not cause by cultural insensitivity, but due to a lack of awareness of American culture, as Gucci and H&M are European companies.  “But that’s no excuse,” says Cesareo. “A lot of these brands are unaware of some of aspects of American culture and heritage, which by no means is a way of justifying them. It is simply that they just don’t do their research…  Gucci should have been much more sensitive to this issue and should have done its research before putting out a product like that.” And Serdari expresses her concerns, stating that the research from these companies would only be superficial because “they only stop at a certain point, whenever it is convenient or based on whatever resources they have. But to have people who are diverse or who have a better grasp of the culture within the market that they want to enter is what is going to make them more successful in the future.”  (Wharton).

Mrs. Serdari explain how creative directors have absolute power over the designs made in these corporate fashion houses and that there is no check or balance when issues pop up. There should have been more diversity in the workplace and the current employees should have been able to express their opinions without fear of retribution.  She also states that “there needs to be diversity at the high-up level of executives, and not just young designers … but people with voice and power.” And Cesareo agrees that Gucci “should have been much more sensitive to this issue and should have done its research before putting out a product like that.”  (Wharton).

Although, despite the backlash, they say that research shows that these brands will most likely not experience any kind of long-term loss because they have loyal customers that are willing to forgive them if they take particular steps in the right direction (Wharton).

Later, that December, Prada apologized for releasing a bag charm that resembled monkeys with red lips and announced that they are forming a diversity council to “elevate voices of color within the company and fashion industry at large.”  Appointing two celebrated black artists, Theaster Gates and Ava DuVernay, to chair the council (Wharton).

However, to others, the backlash is seen as a sign that people nowadays have become overly sensitive. And although Cesareo says she understands their perspective; the size of the offended group doesn’t matter to the company as social media allows negative messages to spreads fast and its important for a brand not to alienate even a small percentage of customers (Wharton).

Both professors state that the controversies surrounding these companies are teachable moments and express a need to reset hiring policies and practices.  “I think this is a really important learning point, not just for the brands involved but also for the industry overall, because there are negative spillovers to perceptions of the fashion industry more generally than just the single brand that made a mistake,” Cesareo said. “Going back to what we said, hiring practices and changes in these hiring practices are so important.”  (Wharton).

Talking about diversity can be uncomfortable but it’s an important discussion because it allows people to come to an understanding of each other’s cultures and resolve both social and personal dilemmas from home and at work.  Social media can open new doors for people, but can also close them to distasteful products that disrespects other’s culture.  And that companies should take note on management and hiring policies and practices because not all designs are considered kosher amongst certain groups (Takacs).

 Photos

· “Coolest Monkey in the Jungle,” Google Images, Google, 2019, web.  https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1368&bih=770&ei=bk9HXb_OJYzktQXQpqnYBw&q=coolest+monkey+in+the+jungle&oq=co&gs_l=img.3.0.35i39l2j0l8.26974.27377..28517...0.0..0.56.202.4......0....1..gws-wiz-img.....0.n6VEC6XF3L4

· “Gucci Blackface,” Google Images, Google, 2019, web.  https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&biw=1368&bih=770&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=i09HXZGrJovaswWYmrGQBQ&q=gucci+blackface&oq=gucci+&gs_l=img.3.0.0i67l4j0l3j0i67j0j0i67.63973.66527..68186...0.0..0.66.357.6......0....1..gws-wiz-img.......35i39.dUstSdtwjvI#imgdii=TaBc16nQPVCE9M:&imgrc=bwRD7YgMuO0dCM:

· “Katy Perry Blackface Shoes Ebay,” Google Images, Google, 2019, web.  https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&biw=1368&bih=770&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=0E9HXYKOKISctgWyj6C4Bw&q=katy+perry+blackface+shoes+ebay&oq=ka+blackface&gs_l=img.3.0.0i7i30j0i8i7i30.108914.109048..110548...0.0..0.65.116.2......0....1..gws-wiz-img.GkoXCYwaLsY

· “Prada Blackface Monkey,” Google Images, Google, 2019, web.  https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1368&bih=770&ei=PmBHXaz9G-O1tgXlopcI&q=prada+blackface+monkey&oq=prada+monkey&gs_l=img.3.5.0l5j0i8i30j0i24l4.1144.7686..12956...0.0..0.57.752.15......0....1..gws-wiz-img.....0..35i39.DEUrFpJl0s8#imgrc=8F8WPIUrV6E16M:

Sources

· “Statement on Cultural Equity,” Cultural Equity, Americans for the Arts, 2016, web.

· Morten Christian Bjerre, “"Coolest Monkey in the Jungle" - A study on correlations between crisis communication and intentional consumer behavior,” Copenhagen Business School, © ResearchGate, July 18, web.

· “Gucci’s Misstep: Why a More Diverse Fashion Industry Is the Answer,” Marketing, Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania, 18 February 2019, web.

· Takacs, Stacy. “What Is the Function of Popular Culture?” Interrogating Popular Culture: Key Questions. New York: Routledge, 2015. pp. 41 – 65.

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 33

You know that feeling. When you read a particular line and it just. Makes you feel a lot of emotions simultaneously and it’s almost too much and you don’t so much want to say something about it as you want to immerse yourself in it completely and make high-pitched keening noises?

Chapter 33: A Conversation with the Dragon

Well at least this one’s upfront about the fact that it’s probably going to hurt. Because any conversation with Rand is going to hurt, at this point.

Or…Dragon? Could also be referring to Lews Therin, I suppose. Which doesn’t actually lessen the probability that it’s going to hurt, so.

Even Rand’s pyjamas are red and black. Going to start dyeing your hair black again too, Rand? Better hope you and Moridin don’t turn up at the same fireplace anytime soon or it’ll be a major fashion faux-pas. Tabloids all over Tel’aran’rhiod will be sneering at you. You won’t be able to set foot outside for a week.

I’m stalling again, aren’t I?

It was getting harder and harder to see in him the boy Nynaeve had known in the Two Rivers. Had his jaw always been set with those lines of determination? When had his step grown so sure, his posture so demanding? This man almost seemed an…interpretation of the Rand she’d once known. Like a statue, carved from rock to look like him, but exaggerated in heroic lines.

Memory becomes legend…

This is an interesting description from Nynaeve, because it gets to the heart of what so much of his path has been: leaving Rand al’Thor behind to become the Dragon Reborn. Trading humanity for destiny, self for role. We see it early on as a struggle, as he only wanted to sit, and remember a shepherd named Rand al’Thor and then a little later as ‘I don’t know how human the Dragon Reborn can afford to be’ and it just escalates from there. He becomes the role, the Dragon, but the only way he sees to do that is by letting go of pieces of himself until there’s almost nothing left, until what remains what he believes he must be; what he believes prophecy and the world and the Last Battle demand. And strong enough – hard enough – to withstand it. Stone rather than human, statue rather than flesh, figure rather than human. A legend in the shape of the memory of a man.  

But unlike most, Nynaeve still looks for the boy she knew; she sees the changes because she holds on to the memory of what was there. He’s still human to her, and that’s why the changes even register.

“Last I checked, I didn’t need your permission to channel. You’ve grown high and mighty, Rand al’Thor, but don’t forget that I paddled your backside when you were barely as tall as a man’s shins.”

And, being Nynaeve, she shows that recognition of his humanity, and her care for him, in her own…special way. Some things never change.

Rand’s very much not thrilled to be awoken in the middle of the night for a ‘spindly, terrified youth’ but is very slightly less not thrilled when Nynaeve tells him why.

That got Rand’s attention, and Min’s as well. She’d poured herself a cup of tea and was leaning against a wall. Why weren’t they married?

That’s…honestly so far down the list of important questions I don’t think it has a number. But Nynaeve is Nynaeve; this would have been her responsibility, once, back in Emond’s Field. And it’s part and parcel of the fact that she still sees the person he was in him; this wouldn’t even come close to registering in most people’s minds, because he’s the Dragon Reborn and one doesn’t wonder such things about the Dragon Reborn. I mean, not that it’s actually anyone’s business whether two people are married or not, but the fact that Nynaeve immediately thinks about it shows how much she does still see him as that boy she knew. And herself as his Wisdom.

“At the dungeon where you sent Milisair Chadmar,” Nynaeve said, eyeing him. “It is terrible, Rand al’Thor. You have no right to treat a person in such a manner.”

He didn’t rise to that comment either.

This puts me very much in mind of a doctor hitting your knee with one of those little rubber hammers to make sure your reflexes are working. She’s testing his ‘reflexes’ here, tapping at the buttons she knows were once there, scoping out the shape of what’s wrong. I mean, she knows what’s wrong, I think. But she’s trying to understand it, trying to draw more of Rand out if she can, trying to better understand what’s wrong so she can help make it well. But he’s not responding like he used to, and that in itself is an indication.

“I think he killed the messenger.”

Does no one remember you’re not supposed to do that? There’s a saying about it and everything!

Rand glanced at Nynaeve, and she could almost feelhim connecting the comments to figure out what she had been doing. “You Aes Sedai,” he finally said, “share much with rats, I have come to realise. You are always in places where you are not wanted.”

Nynaeve snorted. “If I’d stayed away, then Milisair would be dying and Kerb would be free.”

She’s not rising to his bait, either.

Also, that particular comparison makes me think of Moridin again, I have to say.

Ah, so Nynaeve does recognise that the kid is blocked by Compulsion. I guess we’ll get to find out whether ta’veren can out-do Compulsion after all.

“Stop,” Rand said softly. “Do you believe that I can kill you?”

The boy fell silent and – though Nynaeve wouldn’t have thought it possible – his blue eyes opened wider.

“Do you believe that if I simply said the word,” Rand continued in his eerie, quiet voice, “your heart would stop beating? I am the Dragon Reborn. Do you believe that I can take your life, or your soul itself, if I so much as will it to happen?”

So that’s…um…

A new favourite trick of his, certainly, it would seem. He tried it on Cadsuane, and we’re seeing it again here, and it’s the softness of it that makes it so terrifying.

That, and the fact that – maybe just because his choice of colour scheme and the comparison of Aes Sedai to rats has me thinking of Moridin – he sounds rather like Ishamael/Ba’alzamon here. Your soul is mine, death is mine, I can claim your life and your soul…

It’s very, verydifferent from how Nynaeve intimidated and threatened the prison guards. Soft and gentle and dangerous and utterly without feeling.

Nynaeve saw it again, the patina of darkness around Rand, that aura that she couldn’t quite be certain was there. She raised her tea to her lips – and found that it had suddenly grown bitter and stale

Okay, that’s it. The rest, I could forgive. But this? Making tea go bad? Ruining tea? That is truly irredeemable. You have gone too far.

“You will have to unravel the web of Compulsion, wipe it from his mind, before he can tell us what he knows.”

So it is a conversation with Lews Therin, at least in flashes.

Also, um, what?

No pressure, Nynaeve! Then again, if anyone can figure out how to heal Compulsion, it would be her.

“I have little skill with this kind of weaving,” Rand said with a wave of his hand. “I suspect that you can remove Compulsion, if you try. It is similar to Healing, in a way. Use the same weave that creates Compulsion, but reverse it.”

Does that mean Rand has, or would have, little skill at Compulsion as well? He’s never actually tried to use it, that I know of. Maybe some things are still too far, even for him as he is now. Or maybe he simply isn’t good enough at it to make it an option.

Can any weave be countered this way, or its effects healed? By using the same weave that creates it, but…reversed? Because there’s another forbidden weave, you see, that causes irreparable damage…

“I can’t tell you how it is done specifically, not for a woman, but you are clever. I’m certain you can manage.”

His unintentionally patronising tone sent her back into a rage.

Yeah, I mean, he shouts at her not to patronise him, and then turns around and basically pats her on the head and calls her a clever girl. She’s an Aes Sedai, not a raptor.

But then, she’s always done her best healing when she’s angry.

How had Rand known? She shivered, thinking of what Semirhage had said about him. Memories from another life, memories he had no right to. There was a reason the Creator allowed them to forget their past lives. No man should have to remember the failures of Lews Therin Telamon.

Allowed them to forget. Not made them forget. Others might see madness, but she just sees the pain it causes. Sorrows and his own suicide. Is it any wonder he tried so hard to push those memories away, to distance himself from them, terrified of sharing that fate? Is it any wonder he’s done what he has to try to insulate himself from the pain of not just this life but last? It’s not enough to carry the weight of the world; he has to remember letting it shatter.

And yet, those memories are almost certainly necessary. The knowledge in them, for one, but also…I feel like there’s still something to the fact that he’s fighting against himself, and that he has reached a point where he’s effectively lost all hope of surviving what is to come, and any desire to do so. Where he believes he’s already damned. But I feel like there’s something to be learned there about…the Wheel of Time turns and each victory might only lead to another battle and sometimes there are failures and sometimes they hurt but at least there’s still a chance to keep trying.

And okay, he’s pretty much on the other side of the galaxy from anything even remotely resembling that kind of take on it, but. It feels like the lighter side of the fight Rand’s been fighting against himself – insisting that he will not be Lews Therin, that Lews Therin failed but he won’t, that Lews Therin Kinslayer killed everyone he loved but Rand will not kill where he doesn’t have to…but it’s the wrong fight. It’s the difference between rejecting failure and learning from it. And it’s the difference, I think, between fighting just for an end, and fighting for a reason, fighting to give the world another lease on the future and if not certainty then at least hope.

It’s why I’ve been shouting at him for several books now to stop fighting himself, to accept who he is but also who he was, because then it’s not about fighting against the past but instead moving on from it.

Still, easier said than done when, as Nynaeve acknowledges here, no one should have to remember that. But he does, and if he can accept it, that itself is a victory of sorts.

And just like that, Nynaeve heals Compulsion. Round of applause.

Rand lowered himself to one knee, cradling the youth’s chin in his hand, staring into his eyes. “Where?” he asked softly. “Where is she?”

It’s the gentleness of this that absolutely kills me. There’s something almost…sorrowful to it, or mournful (Morr-nful? I’ll see myself out), except there is no sorrow, no feeling at all. It’s soft and lovely and terrifying.

So it turns out there wasn’t much left to this kid’s mind than the Compulsion, which…might have been a good thing to tell Nynaeve before she removed it?

“Instructions cleverly designed to wipe whatever personality this poor wretch had and replace it with a creature who would act exactly as Graendal wished. I’ve seen it dozens of times.”

Dozens of times? Nynaeve thought with a shiver. You’ve seen it, or Lews Therin saw it? Which memories rule you right now?

There are a few layers to that question. Nynaeve is framing it as a question of  whose memories dominate at the moment, but Rand has been hugely affected by the very existence of those memories as much as he ever is by the memories themselves.

Which…well, see above, I suppose. Trying to deny those memories, trying to deny who he was, doesn’t make them go away. And doesn’t make them any easier to cope with, no matter how many layers of ice and steel he tries to wrap himself in. Because at the end of the day, it’s still denial, and the truth is still there weighing on him. So he fights it, even in moments like these where he acknowledges the memories that are useful to him, lets them come to the forefront and shape his words. He still doesn’t accept their entirety, because he still, I think, believes that would mean condemning himself to that same end, that same failure. He does not surrender to them, so he cannot control them. He doesn’t embrace them, so he cannot move past them.

Rand spoke to Kerb again. “I need a location,” Rand said. “Something. If there is any vestige within you that resisted, any scrap that fought her, I promise you revenge. A location. Where is she?”

It’s almost a kindness, almost a mercy.

I guess he would know all about a vestige within you that resisted, any scrap that fought, even when the rest is gone, replaced, torn away. (He named you friend. Do not abandon him…)

“Natrin’s Barrow.”

Rand exhaled softly, then released Kerb with an almost reverent motion.

This is just so lovely. The way motion and gesture are done in this chapter, these soft, gentle, almost reverent movements against the gravity and pain and horror of it all, lightness against weight frozen in a moment and a gesture. There’s a shift here, in that exhalation – an end to a waiting, or a decision that comes with an answer. It’s the sort of scene where you’d have a single mournful violin and soft lighting and the whole thing is overlaid with an almost desperate sadness but all you see is simplicity.

It’s not a Big Dramatic Moment, but it’s very clearly a moment. Even if it’s not clear precisely how or why. It gives him a focus, a direction, and you can feel that shift.

What right did he have to look as exhausted as she felt? He had done barely anything!

And yet. He cannot let himself care, but somewhere on some level it weighs on him. And I also get the sense that it’s not a presentexhaustion so much as a…future one, if that makes sense. He’s been waiting for this for a long time, for evidence that Graendal is here, for a location. And he means to kill her. And now the waiting is ended, in two words, and so you get a soft exhalation and a look of exhaustion because it never ends; there’s never enough time to rest, and even rest isn’t restful.

“I did nothing, Nynaeve. I suspect that once you removed that Compulsion, the only thing keeping him alive was his anger at Graendal, buried deeply. Whatever bit of himself remained, it knew the only help it could give were those two words. After that, he just let go. There was nothing more we could do for him.”

Nothing left but anger, and a single purpose or intention, and after that he just let go. Sound familiar, Rand? You don’t think there’s anything more that can be done to for you, either.

“I don’t accept that,” Nynaeve said, frustrated.

Yeah, somehow I feel like we’re not just talking about Kerb the chandler’s apprentice here. Just a feeling, you know?

“Don’t you feel any guilt at all?” she demanded.

They locked eyes, Nynaeve frustrated and helpless, Rand…who could guess what Rand felt these days?

Certainly not Rand.

“Should I suffer for them all, Nynaeve?” he asked quietly, rising, face still half in the darkness.

Oh okay so we’re doing pain now. Alright. Sure. Why not.

It’s still so…soft.

Also, I see what you’re doing there with the face still half in the darkness.

“Lay this death at my feet, if you wish. It will just be one of many. How many stones can you pile on a man’s body before the weight stops mattering? How far can you burn a lump of flesh until further heat is irrelevant? If I let myself feel guilty for this boy, then I would need to feel guilt for the others. And it would crush me.”

It’s just too much. (Am I talking about the quote or about what Rand has to endure? We may never know).

It’s too much, and it would break him. He knows what he’s doing, and the simplicity of it, the willingness to just explain it, explain his pain and what he’s been through so simply as if the magnitude isn’t overwhelming, and say so matter-of-factly that it would crush him, is…

Perhaps strangely, it reminds me of Lan telling Nynaeve what had happened to him, in Mashiara. Telling her simply ‘you would not want me bonded to you’ and calling it his last gift.

It’s not self-pity; it’s just fact, plainly stated and devastating.

“Oh, Rand,” she said, turning away. “This thing you have become, the heart without any emotion but anger. It will destroy you.”

“Yes,” he said softly.

She looked back at him, shocked.

“I continue to wonder,” he said, glancing down at Min, “why you all assume that I am too dense to see what you find so obvious. Yes, Nynaeve. Yes, this hardness will destroy me. I know.”

He knows. He knowswhat he’s doing. And he knows why; he has all along, as he’s fought to make himself harder and then harder still, patiently forging his soul in the fires of pain, bringing up the list of names, all so that he could harden himself enough to do what must be done. It’s always been deliberate. It’s just that at one point he thought he could stop short of that last line, could hold on to enough of himself to be worth saving. But now…now he knows better, or thinks he does. And here we see this softness of resignation and resolution; this is all there is for him now, this is how it must be, and he will not survive it much longer, so it doesn’t matter now. All that’s left is the doing, and the dying. He’s accepted it, stopped fighting, so there’s nothing but this calm, this clarity and the softness of finality.

They think he can’t see it, because who would willingly do this to themselves? They think he can’t see it, because he is supposed to be salvation even alongside destruction, hope and Light against despair and shadow and oblivion.

But that hurts too much.

I just. The self-awareness, and the gentle fatalism of it, is…oh, Rand.

(‘Your logic destroyed you, didn’t it?’)

“When I was much younger,” he said, voice soft “Tam told me of a story he’d heard while travelling the world. […] Tam’s stories claimed no man had ever climbed to Dragonmount’s peak. Not because it was impossible – but because reaching the top would take every last ounce of strength a man had. So tall was the mountain that besting it would be a struggle that drained a man completely.”

Leaving nothing left for the journey home. Yeah. Also, two things. First of all, the fact that he calls Tam by his name rather than saying ‘my father’ is just one more soft and sad thing in a chapter already overflowing with soft sadness. He resolved that inner conflict a long time ago; Tam is his father in all the ways that matter, so I don’t think that’s what this is. I think it’s just another measure of detachment, of relinquishing any last vestiges of emotion or humanity or hope. He is the Dragon Reborn, nothing else, and if the Dragon Reborn cannot be human then he certainly cannot have a father he loves, or a home he is bound to, or anyone he might want to stay alive for.

Second…yeah, about climbing Dragonmount. I joke a lot about Rand’s penchant for climbing on top of and then falling off of things, but Dragonmount has been both foreshadowed and honestly kind of inevitable more or less since the Prologue, I feel like. I just can’t see it remaining purely metaphorical, though I can’t see what purpose it would actually serve, except as a full-circle kind of thing.

“So they never climbed it. They always wanted to, but they waited, reserving that trip for another day. For they knew it would be their last.”

“But that’s just a story,” Nynaeve said. “A legend.”

“That’s what I am,” Rand said. “A story. A legend.”

YES THIS IS EVERYTHING I WANTED AND IT’S DEVASTATING.

He knows. It’s part of what makes this so painful, is that he walks into it eyes open. He knows the role he must fulfil, knows he must shoulder this duty or the world dies, knows it will be all but unendurable, knows what it will cost him. Always, at each step, each time he tore away another part of himself, he knew what he was doing, even knew, I think, where it would lead if taken too far.

“I don’t know how human the Dragon Reborn can afford to be,” he told Nynaeve in essentially the precursor to this conversation (and I think there’s a reason we see both through Nynaeve’s eyes, rather than his). When he truly didn’t know, but had begun to suspect. When he knew he would need to let go of at least some of himself, some of his humanity.

Because the Dragon Reborn is a legend, a story. “He belongs to the Pattern now, and to history.” He saw Rhuidean, saw the threads of the Pattern that wove him. He knows the prophecies, knows what they demand. And for a long time he fought to find some balance there, some way to be both himself – even if just to die as himself – and to be what prophecy and story and history demanded. But now he’s stopped fighting that, because it’s too much for anyone or anything but a legend and a story to carry, so that is what he will be. No longer a shepherd named Rand al’Thor, but the Dragon Reborn. And that’s all. The rest is gone.

But he…stopped fighting the wrong thing. Instead of surrendering the fight against himself, he surrendered the fight to live, to salvage anything of himself. And it’s the wrong surrender.

And the whole mood of this is almost like that of the time Rand wandered into Moridin’s dreams and the two of them sat quietly by the fire; that sense of inevitability and of being pulled into these roles and of ‘your logic destroyed you, didn’t it’ except this time Rand doesn’t bring any hope or balance with him. Just the gentle calm of accepting his own destruction. Welcoming it. As Moridin himself seemed to welcome the concept of a true ending.

But it’s all overlaid with this gentleness, this sadness that comes through even if Rand can’t feel it, and so it’s harder to see the horror beneath it. The wrongness of it all. Because that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? There’s less pain this way. Easier, softer, to just…let go.

“You all claim that I have grown too hard, that I will inevitably shatter and break if I continue on. But you assume that there needs to be something left of me to continue on. That I need to climb back down the mountain once I’ve reached the top.”

I still just cannot get past the honesty and clarity with which he recognises exactly what he is doing. It’s one thing to know he knows, and another thing to sit here and watch him state it like this, holding nothing back, not trying to disguise or mitigate it, but also not…caring anymore.

And it hurts because again, he’s done this to himself so that he can endure agony long enough to do what needs to be done, to fulfil his duty in the world’s salvation, and then die.

Just.

He didn’t want to. It’s not out of anger or malevolence or even temptation. Its done out of determination, because he didn’t know what else to do. Because he didn’t know how else to hold on long enough.

And now the only answer he sees is to not hold on anymore. To give up that last part of himself. It’s a sacrifice, and it just hurts more because it’s the wrong one.

It’s watching the slow death of hope in someone who has been forced to withstand too much in its name. It’s a lot.

“That’s the key, Nynaeve. I see it now. I will not live through this, and so I don’t need to worry about what might happen to me after the Last Battle. I don’t need to hold back, don’t need to salvage anything of this beaten up soul of mine.”

Except it doesn’t work that way.

He cannot go to the Last Battle like this, devoid of hope or care for what comes after, with no reason to fight except that it’s the last thing he must do before he can die. That’s too close to what Moridin is coming to it with, and what is the point of the Light’s victory if it isn’t to sustain and renew hope? The whole pointis that it means they get a future, a chance to salvage something from a broken soul or a broken world, and keep going. There are neither beginnings nor endings, and that means either an endless cycle of despair and pain, or a continued cycle of hope and renewal, and I think when you’re the champion of the Light, it matters which one you choose to see.

The Dragon is one with the land, and the land is one with the Dragon. He cannot succumb to despair, because to do so would damn the world. No one ever said it was fair.

“We can find a way, Rand,” Nynaeve said. “Surely there is a way to win but also let you live.”

Again, it’s like what she said to Lan, only…slightly higher stakes, perhaps. But this is who she is; Nynaeve doesn’t believe anything is impossible, doesn’t believe anything can’t be healed. She’s very much a creature of hope, in that sense, hope and determination and sheer force of will. She’s not going to stand by and let him die any more than she will Lan, no matter what either of them says must happen or will happen.

“No,” he growled softly. “Do not tempt me down that path again. It only leads to pain”

YEAH NO KIDDING IT DOES. I’M IN PAIN RIGHT NOW.

This is fine.

It’s the first break in that gentle, soft calm, as well. Because there isa temptation there, a part of him that still wants to keep fighting, and he has to fight notto. Once again she can almost get through to him, and he can’t let her. But it is a vulnerability in that armour. There is still a temptation there. And the fact that he sees it as a temptation, rather than as a lifeline…oh, Rand.

It just hurts too much. To hold on to any hope that maybe he can survive this, to let himself want anything at all anymore. It hurts to feel. Apathy is easier. But it’s a false sense of…absolution, almost, except its exact opposite. Absolute certainty of destruction and damnation. But through the lens of apathy they look almost the same, because they grant illusion that nothing else matters. That you don’t have to think about it anymore. Don’t have to weigh those choices or that pain or that action or inaction. It’s all the same, now. There’s no changing your path, so no need to try, so no need to struggle, so no need to hurt. It’s a powerful illusion.

But he can’t let go of it, because of the sheer magnitude of pain. And no guarantee that it would bring him anything but more suffering in the end.

So that’s…yeah. It’s just hard to condemn him for choosing the path he has, because at every turn it seemed like the only option, and he tried so hard.

“I…I used to think about leaving something behind to help the world survive once I died, but that was a struggle to keep living. I can’t indulge myself.”

He can’t let himself want, because wanting would be selfish and human and he doesn’t get to have that. He’s a legend and a story and a piece in the Pattern; he doesn’t get to have things like wants, or choices. Those are for humans and he’s the Dragon Reborn.

It’s irony bordering on paradox that to be the Dragon Reborn, he has to accept his place in prophecy and give everything he has to the world’s salvation…but in order for that to have any meaning, he has to see it as a choice, and retain his humanity and capacity to hope and also to want. He has to be willing to die, but has to want to live.

“I’ll climb this bloody mountain and face the sun.”

As if the sun, light and warmth and life, is something to be faced, something to be endured, rather than something to strive for.

“You all will deal with what comes next.”

There’s some truth to that, perhaps; I have a hard time seeing a place for the Dragon Reborn after Tarmon Gai’don, should Rand find a way to live by dying. If that is an immediate sort of thing rather than an eventual rebirth sort of thing. I think it is, but I’m far from certain. Anyway, I still don’t see him being the one to actually shape that future; his role is to enable it.

But he has to care about what comes next, because that’s what he’s doing all of this for.

“You did well tonight,” Rand said. “You have saved us all a lot of trouble.” “I did it because I want you to trust me,” Nynaeve said, then immediately cursed herself. Why had she said that?

Because he’s ta’veren, and because it’s true.

Rand just nodded. “I do trust you, Nynaeve. As much as I trust anyone; more than I trust most. You think you know what is best for me, even against my wishes, but that is something I can accept. The difference between you and Cadsuane is that you actually care about me. She only cares about my place in her plans. She wants me to be part of the Last Battle. You want me to live. For that, you have my thanks.”

WHAT. AM I. SUPPOSED. TO DO. WITH THIS.

HELP ME.

To have him just say all of that, so simply. To see that he knows, that he understands how much she cares about him and that it means something to him even if he can’t let himself feel it.

“You want me to live. For that, you have my thanks.”

Even if he doesn’t want to live, doesn’t believe he canlive, doesn’t want her to even tempt him into wanting it. Despite that, he thanks her for it. Because it matters.

And it’s kind of fascinating to see this through Nynaeve’s POV because from the outside it almost looks like he cares, like he’s touched by this. But we know from his previous chapters that it’s just…like when he said ‘I’m sorry’ after she told him about Lan. There’s no true feeling behind it, because he can’t permit that in himself.

And yet he thanks her anyway, because still it matters. Even unfeeling, even cuendillar, it matters that she wants him to live.

…….oh.

“Dream on my behalf, Nynaeve. Dream for things I no longer can.”

………

…………………

I’m just. Going to lie here, on the floor, forever.

What a line.

What a beautiful, perfect, absolutely devastating statement that is.

It’s as if the entire chapter has built towards this, with its gentle gestures and quiet sadness and stark acceptance of self-destruction and surrender to legend and story. With its calm and the knowledge that he feels nothing and yet somehow this means something to him despite that. The knowledge itself that he has gone beyond feeling, but that it shouldn’t be that way, and so he leaves the dreaming to someone else, because someone should.

That’s one of those lines I need to read several times over just to try to feel it.

Dream for things I no longer can.

The acknowledgment in that. The acceptance, the sadness felt as much through its absence as anything else, the secondhand hope alongside perfect calm despair.

Why is this HAPPENING WHAT DID I DO.

The gentleness of all of this just ruins me and the way it contrasts with and yet follows perfectly on from Rand’s own chapters just before, and how it all feels so final and almost at ease and yet is wrong but is still so beautiful and

Akfsleaksjralekjrljelsatea

Help.

Why couldn’t she come up with an argument against what he’d said? Why couldn’t she make herself yell at him that he was wrong? There was always hope. By surrendering that most important emotion, he might make himself strong – but risked losing all reason he might have to care about the outcome of his battles.

That says in about thirty words what I’ve been trying to say for about thirty thousand.

And she’s right, but it is hard to argue with his logic not because she’s wrong but because it means causing him pain. It means asking him to shatter this peace he’s found – dark and illusory and cold as it is – and and go back to the pain and the struggle and the guilt and self-hatred and anger and fear. She’s a healer; she doesn’t want him to be hurting, doesn’t want to ask that of him because it’s too much to ask. What right do they have to demand that of him? And yet he can’t go on like this.

But it’s part of why I think he needs to come to that realisation himself; it has to be his choice, not something he feels he is forced to do, or required to do.

And I would maybe have more to say but Dream on my behalf, Nynaeve. Dream for things I no longer can has effectively destroyed me so I’m just going to stop now, and maybe eventually pick myself up off of the floor, and go make a cup of tea, and stare at a wall.

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