#at least it waited until after my very important adult things (interviews for a job id kill for)

[sourdoughdirewolf]

This is twice now

[thedoubteriswise]

okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

[coeurdastronaute]

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think. 

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry. 

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow. 

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street. 

“You are mad, and we need to talk.” 

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.” 

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car. 

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name. 

Today she was not going to cry. 

At least not on purpose. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” 

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes. 

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.” 

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.” 

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.” 

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry. 

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses. 

“Not a problem. I was in the way.” 

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner. 

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night. 

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it. 

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen. 

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse. 

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult. 

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed. 

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.” 

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.” 

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready.” 

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator. 

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time. 

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever. 

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die. 

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life. 

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest. 

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor. 

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden. 

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?” 

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office. 

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.” 

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering.. 

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?” 

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?” 

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee. 

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.” 

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.” 

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain. 

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.” 

“She’s relentless.” 

“Maybe you’re impossible?” 

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?” 

“I got you, boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before. 

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all. 

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science. 

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation. 

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease. 

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk. 

“About what?” 

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?” 

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.” 

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?” 

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely. 

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate. 

“I have someone I want you to meet with.” 

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.” 

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.” 

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.” 

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.” 

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting. 

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.” 

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” 

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.” 

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating. 

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three. 

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.” 

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow. 

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it. 

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful. 

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top. 

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?” 

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.” 

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look. 

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.” 

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile. 

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.” 

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

[dawniebb]

You thought this was over but it isn’t lol

Y’all thought @healing-winston-pratt and I were over but no :) and this is my turn to take the wheel again so hello :3

@novadreamer95438 Yo wanted to be tagged so here you go, we’re thrilled to have you here <3

And also @novas-tunnel-of-anxiety you also asked me to be tagged in my stuff so there you go, hon <3

Before you read this new list, you might want to check our previous content about this canon divergence:

Winston and Dawnie’s guide to ignore the canon (Tumblr hates me and won’t show the link so here we go https://dawniebb.tumblr.com/post/624197118868013056/canon-is-an-illusion)

Nova trying to find Callum while refusing to acknowledge she’s in pain

Winston is alive but life sucks (Fic edition)

Same as above but it’s a comic so it hurts more

Callum wakes up from a very violent c-section (Comic)

Thing is 

We have a whole AU (well, it’s more likely just canon divergence)  so let’s see how things turn out for Narcissa and Leroy uwu 

You thought we forgot Leroy but we didn’t lmao and Danna needs a wife so here we goooo

So, as we already know, Narcissa is the one who put The Rejects together, and she promised them a new life.

She basically doomed herself 

yikes :) 

So, obviously, she now has to help them leave Gatlon. And we figured that, then, that would mean Leroy and her would travel together. 

The Rejects leave through the catacombs; they probably stole  some cars once they were outside the dome in order to leave the city.

Cut to Narcissa taking the passenger’s seat in Leroy’s yellow car because we say so.

The Rejects drive together until they feel the wave that drains their powers, and they have to stop to panic because they have no damn clue on what is happening.

Then the Supernova happens and they have their powers back so… They go back to their runaway before anything else happens.

They arrive to the nearest city in around four hours and stop to get supplies, but Narcissa keeps staring back at where Gatlon is supposed to be.

And Leroy tells her that, if there’s a chance Nova outsmarted Ace (and he knows his daughter her so he has faith), he’s taking the risk to going back to Gatlon.

He subtly suggests she can come too, but she says she’s still in debt with the Rejects.

But is she, though?

She has already taken them out of Gatlon and honestly, we don’t think they’ll stick together as a new gang or something.

They’re probably going to split out and take their own ways and Millie tells her so, and that’s how the two of them find themselves driving back to Gatlon like champions.

So then they enter back into Gatlon, empowered, like Dawnie when she failed Math and still went to watch Moana. 

And Narcissa, bc she’s a good person and has common sense, asks Leroy if there’s anything she can do for him bc he’s a war criminal who can’t go outside that much hee hee and the one thing Leroy asks is for her to tell him where he can find Nova. 

Narcissa does it, as it’s easier for her to move through the city without getting arrested af. She tells Leroy Nova is at the hospital with Winston, so Leroy waits until they’re both released to find a way to see Nova. 

And he finds it. We don’t know if any of you have watched Kipo :’) (YOU SHOULD BTW BC IT’S THE BOMB) but Leroy basically pulls a Lio and leaves traces/hints for Nova to find him. Like, very specific things only she could understand bc, even if she didn’t have powers, she would still be considered a prodigy child lmao kiddo was playing with syringes without getting them in her eyes when she was 6. 

Leroy waits….very patiently, btw, for a couple of days (3-4 days?) until one night he sees a tiny af silhouette  walking around the place like a cat and he just knows is her. 

And she is, indeed. 

So when she gets closer, she hugs him. It’s a very uncomfortable hug bc Leroy is not used to touch people, and Nova isn’t either. But yeah, they have a moment :) 

They talk for a while, and when Leroy asks her how she’s doing, as in where she’s living, where she’s getting money from and stuff like that, she answers that she recently rented an apartment where she’s living with Winston because he’s recovering and it’s not like Nova will be willing to leave him alone knowing he was one of the people that raised her and showed her actual love :v 

Leroy starts reconsidering his plan to remain hidden once he’s made sure Nova has it together lmao. 

ofc he doesn’t tell her this, and after promising (indirectly) everything will be alright and that this might not be the last time they talk, they just go into their separates ways. 

Until Simon calls Nova later that night telling her Leroy is at the HQs, surrendering lmao.

And so she goes there to ask him wtf is he doing, and Leroy might not directly tell her this, but he has nothing left to lose. And if he leaves, the only thing he’ll do is separate himself from Nova, who is like...the only family he has left.

So he wants to surrender because, that way, at least, he has a chance to get a sentence that might allow him get out of jail before he dies. 

Might.

The thing is that, well, we know the Renegades caused Nova to go through a lot of awful stuff. And we suppose they know that too :v so, what they do while both Nova and Leroy are in the room, is that they get to an agreement. 

Like, they don’t tell them the sentence in that VERY moment, but they do talk about how Leroy was always a very...neutral entity and barely anything he did was illegal :V ...besides being an accomplice ofc 

Even so, Nova is hesitant about this whole thing, but Leroy is an adult and she can’t tell him what to do, so he agrees to go into trial :v 

Given the fact that he didn’t have that many aggravating crimes and, in the end, he DID switch sides in the Second Battle for Gatlon, he’s sentenced to one year in prison and community service.

What we’re trying to say is that the Council basically pulled a Cinder and spared Leroy bc he helped win the battle. 

Before going to prison, Leroy reveals to Nova that, in the end, he did keep a little Agent N as a last resource (just in case, y’ know), and gives it to her. Not to use it on herself, but to use it on Winston, who is evidently miserable with his powers back :’). 

So Nova does, WHICH MEANS IN THIS CANON WINSTON HAS NO POWERS. EVERYTHING GOOD. OK? 

And that was the last sample of Agent N, since the rest (whatever back up the Renegades could have had in labs) was destroyed when Ace lifted the city and there is no way to replicate it without Max’s gifted blood.

Perhaps the formula and data were also destroyed.

During the year Leroy is locked, the Council (mostly Simon and Hugh) provide Winston and Nova with stuff they need to live lmao. Like, a small house :) bc they can :) 

Once Leroy is out, he starts living with them. Like a family. Bc we say so :) 

As for Narcissa, once she’s back at Gatlon, she stays with Danna for a while (omg there was only one bed) before getting a job in a library, y’know :) and moving to an apartment. 

Now, Nova DOES forgive the Renegades. Because, honestly, guys, a big part of the hatred she showed towards them was bc they promised they would come and then they didn’t. 

But turns out they did lmao.

During the Battle, Nova learned that Georgia Rawles died on her way to save her family. 

AND IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS, DYING WASN’T GEORGIA’S FAULT :’) 

But anyway, this leads Nova to kinda… consider getting along with the Renegades, because in the end they DID try. Like, she forgives all of the “Bc you promised you would save me” stuff, but she remains firm on the fact that their system can suck it bc it’s horrible 

So said system changes for good, and Nova herself helps the Council establish more laws in order to make this less of a dictatorship lol. 

She even pressures them into making the recruitment process more moderated; now, before attending the trials, aspirants must go through an interview that is, basically, like a job interview to make sure they’re qualified to have a position as important as a Renegade (y’know, Nova wants the Council to s t o p hiring people like Team Frostbitch) and if they don’t pass that interview, they can’t go to the trials; they also have to go through a training process even AFTER they’ve been chosen by a team.

We could talk about all the legal reforms we like to think they made more in depth, but for now, our job here is done :)

*Insert happy ending*

[nctinfo]

[TRANS] Jeno’s interview with Grazia March 2020 issue!

It was your first photoshoot without the NCT DREAM members. I was really surprised when I first heard about it. Usually, when we're doing a shoot, even if we're not all together, at least a few of us will be there. So I was a bit worried about doing the shoot all alone. When I'm together with the other members, I'm able to be a bit freer and do more various poses. I was half-anticipating and half-worried because I had to do a well without making it seems like there was an empty space

It became a hot topic when you won NCT DREAM the gold medal by shooting a 10 pointer in the archery finals at ISAC that aired last year.  It must have been a nerve-wracking but thrilling moment when there was only one arrow left, how did you feel? Since it was a tie until the end, my legs were trembling. I remember I had to shoot while I was very nervous. Also, I never mentioned this before, but it was a situation where my bow wasn't adjusted well so I couldn't aim right. That made me even more nervous, but luckily I scored 10 points. It was a very exciting moment for me and the members.

It seems like you've become the hero among the members since the contest, how is it (laughs)? Usually, Chenle isn't the type to be good at giving compliments. He would jokingly say you aren't doing well on purpose and there was something he told me that day after the game was over. He said, "you did kinda good today?". I felt strange that he acknowledged me for that day (laughs).

Are you the type of person who has always been athletic? I'm not born with it, but I do like to exercise and I'm very competitive. I participated with the mindset "let's win the gold medal since we're gonna be competing anyways". I think I was able to look forward to it,   not because I was confident, but because I didn't know how well the other players would do.

I heard you achieved great results with the release of your first mini-album  <The Dream> in Japan last month. NCT DREAM was the first group to top the Oricon Weekly Chart before their official debut. Actually, I was really worried when I heard that we would be releasing an album in Japan. We didn't have any Japanese songs nor did we have a Japanese version of existing songs. But still, our Japanese fans, Czennies, showed us so much love which I'm so grateful for.

It means that they waited as much as that for NCT DREAM The album received so much love even though it didn't contain a Japanese song. Thanks to that, I gained a lot of confidence for the promotions in Japan. In the meantime, every time we have an event or a concert in Japan, I'm able to have so much fun thanks to the support of the fans.

NCT DREAM is currently touring around Asia with their 'The Dream Show'. This kind of stage experience will help you to grow more, right? After being a trainee and debuting, I think my skills have gotten better and have improved through the concerts. So much that I cherish a concert or a big stage. Not only do we not have many chances to meet fans from all over the world, but it's also a rare experience to meet so many fans in one place. So much that every single moment is very precious to me.

Compared to when you just debuted, what made you feel like "nonetheless, I've grown"? First of all, my appearance has changed (laughs). It seems like the freshness we had during our debut days has disappeared. I feel more mature now that I've lost a lot of baby fat, and as we've continuously done promotions I've definitely improved on stage and live performance.

There are many unexpected things that can happen during a concert. Is there something that left a memorable scene? Usually, when you hear the thoughts from the sunbaes of their performance after the concert, you will feel touched or it will make you feel like crying. But for me, it was like that from the start of the concert. During the opening, I had shivers all over and I was overwhelmed with emotion. I was so moved that thousands of fans gathered just to see us. Even now, when I think about it, I still get goosebumps.

What is your role on stage? Power. I'm mainly responsible for using my body during a performance, so I focus on that powerful feeling.

What do you consider to be the most important thing when you are on stage? When I dance, I think expressing the texture of the song is very important. When I sing live, I try to make the scene more dramatic.

What kind of type are you on stage? I wonder if you're the type to do what was practiced or to improvise to match the mood of the day. I'm the type to improvise during rehearsals, and if it turns out okay, I will do it on the stage. When there's no reaction, I will just improvise on the spot. And rather, when things are set, I tend to forget them when I'm on stage. I think it will turn out better if I just follow my body.

All the members have seen each other grown-up together. I think you might be sharing a more special bond than just colleagues, when do you feel that? I feel that when we say "you've worked hard. thank you" after a show to each other. It's kinda embarrassing to say but those words have meaning to them. It had this fresh feeling when Haechan said "thank you everyone, you've done well" after a concert in Japan.

If you could have one of the many talents the members have, what would you most like to have? I would want the eyes of the members with good eyesight (laughs). Due to my poor vision, it's been kinda inconvenient these days. When we're on stage, I'm envious of those members that can wear color or circle lenses to match the concept.

So what is something of Jeno, that you would never want to lose? My eye-smile (laughs)? I don't want to lose my eye-smile.

What is NCT DREAM to Jeno? Even though we're colleagues, we're now past that and it feels like they are my neighborhood best friends. Because we've known each other since we were young, we know a lot about each other and we have a lot of things in common. So it's really fun to be with the members. Actually, during the shoot today I was thinking about the members too. It was great to have a solo shoot, but at the same time, it felt empty because I was alone.

How do you spend your time when there's no schedule? I really like movies and dramas, so I watch the ones I wasn't able to see yet. On the other hand, I like to exercise and ride a bicycle.

Is there anything new that has caught your interest recently? One of my goals for this year is to read more. Actually, I didn't feel the importance of reading until recently, but when I turned 21, I thought I should read more. I thought I need to read rather than starting at my phone while we're on the road, but even though it's almost March, I haven't started reading yet (laughs).

What would you want to show if you had the chance to take a vlog of Jeno's daily life? This is something I've wanted to do before, but when I get a driver's license, I want to film a vlog of me driving to the sea. I think it would look great in the autumn when there is a sunset.

So all you have to do is getting your driver's license first. You picked getting your license as an item on your bucket list this year, how are you progressing? It's not possible at the moment (laughs). Even if I get my driver's license, I'm worried I won't have many chances to drive. I want to get a license but it would be hard to find the time to drive, so I don't think it's something I should be doing soon.

Where does your happiness come from? Have you thought about it? Whenever I receive support and cheer from my fans I would think, 'am I worthy of being cheered for like this?'. At the same time, I feel like I'm in a really good place. I think I have to work harder to be deserving of the support I receive. When I do something and get a sense of accomplishment, I tend to feel a lot of joy. That's what this job is for me. I really like what I'm doing now because I can achieve as much as I tried for it.

It's already been two months since this new year started. How do you plan to spend the rest of 2020? I think this year will pass by really fast since these two months passed really quickly too. Personally, I hope this year marks the end of my growth. I want to make it a time to show a teenager turning into a fully grown adult.

Translation: Esmee @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: Grazia Scan — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

[ih8paris]

i hate paris

Do people still use tumblr? I’m so old. And I never used it. I don’t keep up with the times. I don’t give a shit. You know what? It all passes. Except facebook. They made a deal with the devil and really, was it worth it? I use facebook. I live in Paris and there are these groups for women, expats, cheap people like me that want free yoga. That’s what I use it for. And news. BBC CNN ABC NBC MSNBC, you get it and the posts. They report what the people supposedly want, but then we can see what the people are actually saying. Donald Trump won’t win? Look at voices talking? Look at the little people. It looked like he was going to win. What do you know, he did. But what if he had lost. What if Hilary didn’t get a handle on COVID and then Donald won in 2020? We would all be so fucked right now. Maybe we already are. Anyway, I’m not here to talk politics. I’m here to process my life choices and see if there were signs that I was making HUGE mistake. 

So here’s the thing. I’m a bit untraditional. Growing up was shit. Chuck left and made sure to shit all over everything before he did. And the whole get married in your 20′s have babies get divorced get remarried have more kids bc hey you’re not old at 30 and this is the guy you actually wanted to have kids with. I rant but you get it. Traditional not for me. Also not traditional, i have some money. This money has paid for college, pastry school and yes this wonderful covid filled experience in paris: the city that hates me. I’m fortunate. I don’t live lavishly. It’s not that much money. I grew up poor, I pinch pennies. Then i do exciting things. Or maybe challenging things? I am fortunate and grateful. And guilt filled. I am given this gift and shit it away, trying make something out of this paris experience. It’s like a bad relationship where i keep begging to give it one more change. It will get better. I’m a fucking idiot. So here I am, you know third times the charm, right? Back in paris. Vaccinated. I’ve made connections with people. I feel confident that this will not be a waste. It will be fun. It will be educational. I will network. Gain experiences. Omg learn so much. Be able to travel. OH the hopes and delusions i had. But maybe we should start from the beginning. 

Omg, which beginning. Paris, i guess, we can go back further when the moment calls. So 30 is approaching. I’ve moved back home. That’s story for another time. Remember my life is not traditional. So I’m home to help out and idk try to figure out what the fuck i want to do with my life. See the big mistake i made in my 20s was listening to people i don’t admire. i graduate with an art degree. my college exit interview said i am qualified to work at a bank or Kraft foods. no connects, recommendations. No direct. And my family keeps talking about getting a job, benefits, 401k. At one point a little later on, my grandpa was pushing for me to go into service. Sorry gramps, they don’t want me. My education was good. I learned a lot. They had good resources and a lot. But then nothings. So i worked at a bakery. I worked hard at this bakery. For more than a few months i worked 7 days a week. I didn’t have a life. i had money. Money i made. And apparently that was the most important thing, from the talks i keep getting from my family. And of course i wasn’t earning enough, so needed to work harder and climb the ladder. There is no ladder in a bakery. Whatever, I rant again. We’ll come back to this. 

So 30. It’s looming. I’ve thought about grad school. The money I mentioned earlier. It’s had time to grow. The GRE expires after 5 years, not that i took it but 7 years after I graduated, i wasn’t taking it. So Europe. Europe is artsy. I would like to make good money, enjoy the work okay, but mostly make good money with the least amount of actual work. So teaching. My mom teaches. Computer programing. She’s the head of the department. She fucking hates it. The dude that was suppose to get that job, he died. It was sad. But they also didn’t replace him so when the other guy retired, it became her job. It was an unpleasant 10ish years. But again, I digress. So teaching. Work hard and play hard. And it’s always changing - ish. I guess as much as you want, or don’t. New students every 15 weeks. breaks at all the holidays. Summers off. And when you’re just about to get bored, you’re back at work. Maybe because this is the only lifestyle i know, but it doesn’t sound bad. I worked in an office of women in high school. That i for sure knew i never wanted. But teaching. College. Okay. I need a masters. Learn about MA and MFA. Start looking for jobs in Cali because life’s too short to fucking deal with the snow and mosquitos. Idk everyone doesn’t live in Cali. So now the plan is MFA. They are much more rare and more in demand at universities. More money - but this time i think chasing the money necessary bc Calif = expensive. Now back to looking in Europe. I love Italy. I would love to live in in Italy for more that just a semester but actually live Italian or close to it. The language makes sense. The people make sense. The art makes sense. And it’s omg gorgeous. Alas, no American accredited MFA programs I could qualify for in Italy. I don’t know if there were none but if there were, they would have been in textiles, or digital/graphic design. Which I don’t know anything about. I’m old school, metal work, drawing, printmaking - although so far we haven’t gotten along, another thing i going to try to make work before i leave this city that hates me, for good - painting, ceramics, you get it. I hate computers. I appreciate technology but my mom teaches computers therefore there was never a working computer in my house so we (my brothers and me) don’t do computers. So i find this school - in english and in Paris. Paris, so glamorous. Home of famous artists and their art. The Louvre and Eiffel Tower and Fashion. So okay, i check out their programs. One i have no fucking clue what it is. Still don’t. Another is Photography - pass. Graphics - no. List continues. Then i see Drawing. That’s interesting. I can draw, i draw well. This is a program i could probably get into. SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: you can get into any program. No program is ever full. It’s bull shit. Masters program. Undergrad = everyone is applying at the same time. Masters = ages range and much fewer people go. So don’t fall for that shit - EVER. 

They have a one year and two year program. The second year is less than half the first year so makes sense to go the second year and get the MFA vs MA. So that works out. I’m reading and checking it out. Not sure what I’m looking for but in hindsight, i knew something was missing. Talk it over with my mom and her peers who are also teachers. Consensus - don’t be part of the first group. So i have an interview to get it - what a joke. It is also a time for me to learn more about the program. So i ask, is this new? How long has it been around. Answer: Oh no, it’s been working several years. Very confident. I didn’t have a follow-up, just said I don’t want to be in the first group. I said those words. Her response: Oh no no don’t worry. I was so naive. And yes this continued through the whole program. People’s personalities are what they are. So she lied to get me into the program and just kept lying. No respect for the insane about of money i was paying for this ‘experience’. No respect for the education i could have gotten somewhere else. Because this program had NO educational value. I’m not being bitter or dramatic. It was a complete waste of time and money. Then covid happened. Might have been a blessing in disguise. I can go into detail of the program later. This is just an overview of the beginning. 

So, I get accepted. What a surprise. I’m now officially 30 and this - i feel- is my last hoorah. After this i will be an adult who can get an adult job and become an adult. But first i need housing. And a visa. Which is very confusing. So the French and Italians - Italians I am familiar  with, tell you about it later. So they’re similar in that lazy, lack of thoroughness, that’s their thing. Difference being Italians own it, French hardcore deny. So I’m reading this paperwork and it says thing like you need to have all your documents before your visa appointment including plane ticket. Well I can’t go without the visa so why would i get a plane ticket? Cart before the horse shit - it’s very french, wait until you hear about banks.  

[milarvela]

By his own admission, John Barrowman has always been notorious in showbusiness circles. 'I'm known for my jokes, my sense of fun, my high jinks,' he says.

But those 'high jinks' have come back to haunt him recently as a result of serious allegations against his former Doctor Who co-star Noel Clarke.

John's role as Captain Jack Harkness in Doctor Who began in 2005 and the character was given his own spin-off series, the far more adult Torchwood, a year later.

It launched a hugely successful career for John on both stage and screen, taking in leading roles in West End musicals, big-budget US TV shows such as superhero series Arrow, and homegrown light entertainment favourites like All Star Musicals and most recently Dancing On Ice, where he's one of the judges. He was by anyone's measure a family-friendly favourite.

Then a couple of months ago the sky fell in. Following accusations of sexual harassment against Noel Clarke, who played Mickey Smith – the boyfriend of Billie Piper's character Rose – in Doctor Who from 2005 until 2010, historic footage emerged on YouTube of a sci-fi convention, Chicago Tardis, in 2014, released by The Guardian newspaper which had investigated Clarke's behaviour on the Doctor Who set.

In an interview in front of a live audience, Clarke is seen regaling fellow cast members Annette Badland and Camille Coduri with tales of John's behaviour on the set of Doctor Who, exposing himself 'every five seconds'. Clarke then jokes with the audience not to do this at their workplace or they might go to prison.

The allegations levelled against Clarke are extremely serious. At least 20 women have come forward to accuse him of sexual harassment and bullying, 'inappropriate touching and groping' and secretly filming naked auditions before sharing the videos without consent.

He denies all the allegations, but BAFTA has since suspended the Outstanding Contribution award it bestowed on him just weeks earlier, and the BBC has shelved any future projects he was working on with them.

Now John's behaviour on the sets of both Doctor Who and Torchwood has come under scrutiny once again. The furore has led to a video of Captain Jack Harkness being expunged from the current immersive Doctor Who theatre show Time Fracture, a planned Torchwood audio production featuring John and former Doctor Who lead David Tennant being scrapped and doubt about whether he will be invited back to the Dancing On Ice panel.

ITV will announce the line-up for the next series in September. John immediately issued an apology following the emergence of the video back in May, but today he's decided to speak exclusively and candidly to Weekend to give his side of the story.

'The moment has come to set the record straight,' he says from the Palm Springs, California, home he shares with his husband Scott Gill. 'This is the first time – and the last – I will address this subject. And then I plan to draw a thick black line under it.'

Firstly he says it's important to set the scene. On the set of Torchwood, which followed a team of alien hunters and explored themes of sexuality and corruption, he had what might be called a 'relaxed' attitude to nudity, and would wander around in an open robe. But it's claimed that he was well known for flashing and mooning at cast and crew alike on both the Doctor Who and Torchwood sets.

As Captain Jack Harkness I was the star of Torchwood, so I felt it was down to me to lead the company and keep them entertained,' he explains. 'When I was doing a nude scene or a love scene it was clear in the script I'd be naked and everyone would have known about that at least 48 hours in advance. So I'd be waiting in my trailer wearing just a robe with a sock over my "parts". Then, if I were standing waiting to film a scene where I needed to be nude and someone came into view, I'd make a joke to put them and myself at ease. My actions were simply designed to defuse any potential awkwardness among the cast and crew.

'I've never been someone who's embarrassed about his body so it didn't bother me if anyone saw me naked,' he adds. 'The motivation for what I'd call my "tomfoolery" was to maintain a jokey atmosphere. There was absolutely nothing sexual about my actions and nor have I ever been accused of that.' Whether this sort of behaviour would defuse any awkwardness, or actually foster it, is debatable.

WHY I'VE GONE INTO THERAPY

This scandal has clearly not left John unscathed. 'It was upsetting my mental health,' he tells me. 'My husband Scott suggested I talk to somebody. I won't discuss what I've said in therapy sessions – that's a matter of doctor/patient confidentiality – but I don't mind admitting it's helped me a great deal.

'It's made me aware that despite how much cancel culture may talk about respecting people's mental health, too often they don't respect the mental health of the people they're trying to cancel. So I needed to understand what was happening, which is why I went to speak to somebody.'

Has he had more than one session? 'Yes. It's a conversation that's still going on,' he says with a wry laugh. 'Seriously, whatever the situation, if you feel you need to reach out to someone it's very important to keep talking.'

'If what happened had taken place in the changing rooms after a rugby match it would be regarded as no more than a prank,' he continues. 'On the other hand, it's never going to happen in an accountant's office or a supermarket. But my job is not a regular nine-to-five, we're a family working long hours and in close proximity to each other.' Again, one has to bear in mind that a rugby changing room would be an all-male environment. There were many women in the cast and crew of the TV shows.

'In the theatre quick costume changes happen in the wings all the time, with everyone stripping off to get into their new outfits in time for the next scene,' he says. 'Girls might be braless, boys only in jockstraps. That's just how it is and no one gives it a second thought. But I accept that my behaviour at the time could have caused offence.'

Although John's recollection is that no one complained at the time, and he says that no one has complained since, at one point he was called in for a private conversation with Julie Gardner, an executive producer on Doctor Who and Torchwood. She has confirmed to The Guardian that she did receive a complaint.

'My antics had come to her attention and she told me I should rein in my behaviour,' he recalls. 'In blunt terms, she had just two words of advice: "Grow up!" That struck a chord. I did as I was told and my behaviour changed overnight. I'd still be full of jokes and fun, but no more naked pranks. I can see now my actions were pretty juvenile but this was a different time and it's something I would not do today.'

When these rumours were swirling back in 2008, it's also said John exposed himself during a Radio 1 interview in which his behaviour was being discussed. He denies this today.

'I was being goaded by the presenters about my reported behaviour on the Doctor Who set. I went along with it but I didn't actually do anything inappropriate in the studio. What would have been the point, it was on the radio? Still, it created such a stir that the following day I decided to make a full public apology and get on with my life.'

And that might have been that, but for the accusations against Noel Clarke coming to light. 'It seems to me that I've become collateral damage to a much bigger story,' says John.

Given his and Clarke's high profiles and the severity of the allegations against Clarke, this is hardly surprising. Has he spoken to his former co-star since the balloon went up?

'I have not.' Does he plan to? 'I do not. But listen, I'm not trying to cast myself in the role of victim here.' That said, he clearly resents these stories re-emerging, although he has had messages of support.

'In fact many members of the cast and crew have been in touch since this latest storm blew up giving me their support,' he insists. 'I won't name them because I don't want anyone to find themselves in the firing line.'

However, Gareth David-Lloyd, who played bisexual Jack Harkness's lover Ianto Jones in Torchwood, has chosen to go public about working with John. 'In my experience John's behaviour on set was always meant to entertain, make people laugh and keep their spirits and energy high on what were sometimes very long working days,' he said.

'It may be because we were so close as a cast that professional lines were sometimes blurred in the excitement. I was too inexperienced to know any different but we were always laughing. The John I knew on set would never have behaved in a way he thought was affecting someone negatively. From what I know of him, that is not his nature. He was a whirlwind of positive energy, always very generous, kind and a wonderfully supportive lead actor.'

In the weeks following this new public scrutiny John has had time to reflect, and has come to the conclusion there are two issues. One is the aftermath of the #MeToo movement; the other is cancel culture.

'I'm a supporter of #MeToo because no person should ever feel that in order to succeed in their career they can be coerced into doing something sexual against their will.

'My problem with cancel culture, on the other hand, is that it can take the form of intolerance and prejudice. It's a culture with no shades of grey. There's no leeway for forgiveness or room for recognising any change in someone's behaviour. Cancel culture tends to talk at you or past you or through you, rather than listen to you. Dialogue is extremely rare.'

He sounds upset now. 'Look, I'm in a good place,' he insists. 'I've got a great husband, a great family, a great "fan family" around me. But I've found it difficult. And yes, some of the things that were being said have been hurtful.

'Scott and I would go to bed on a Saturday night dreading the stories in the Sunday papers. And then I'd wake up to lies. One newspaper printed as fact that I'd been dropped as a judge by Dancing On Ice. Well, apart from the fact that the new panel isn't decided until the autumn, no one from ITV had spoken to me or my agent about this latest upset.'

Ashley Banjo, leader of dance troupe Diversity and a fellow Dancing On Ice judge, has only worked with John for the past couple of years so did not know him during the time of the behaviour he's now being scrutinised for, but has publicly spoken out in support.

'I've told John I'd readily work with him again,' said Ashley. 'He's always fun on Dancing On Ice and he's been very respectful and considerate. I'd like to see him come back. The impression I get from this story is it's something small and historic, something blown out of proportion. What I'm not a supporter of in regard to cancel culture is when the speed of allegation is much faster than the speed of investigation. Before I make a judgment I want to see and understand the facts.'

There has been outrage on Twitter, with many users pointing out that John's 'tomfoolery' could be regarded as indecent exposure, and that the fact it happened among work colleagues is no excuse. 'You don't do that in work. You don't do it full stop. If you did it in the city centre you'd be arrested,' posted one user.

So does he regret the way he behaved? 'You can't wind the clock back,' he says.

'They were different times, which is why I wouldn't do now what I did then. I've acknowledged that by the way my behaviour has changed. The trouble is that certain cancel culture enthusiasts are not allowing me to acknowledge it. I've always believed that the reason I was put on this planet was to bring joy to people, make them laugh. How I do that has evolved over the years. I'm still using humour, just in a different way than might have been the case ten or 20 years ago.'

Now, he says, he wants to move on, both personally and professionally. Many years ago he bought a house for his parents down the street from where he lives with Scott.

'They're getting on now and I've been their primary carer throughout the pandemic, doing their shopping, getting their prescriptions from the pharmacy and so on. My mother broke her pelvis at one stage but she's on the mend now. I'm just thankful I can keep an eye on her and my father. I'm thankful too to the scientists for coming up with the means by which we can combat Covid via vaccinations, and the healthcare workers for administering them and looking after us so selflessly. We owe them a great debt of gratitude.'

What about professionally? 'Well, I'm at the early stages of putting together a show full of anecdotes and songs that will tour throughout the UK when restrictions are finally lifted. As far as I'm concerned, it's back to business as usual.'

But it remains to be seen later this year with the announcement of the line-up for Dancing On Ice whether John's career too might be put on ice.

***

I can see now my actions were pretty juvenile but this was a different time and it's something I would not do today.'

Well, to be blunt, he’s too old to be doing it anyway, people would just roll they eyes at a pathetic old lech instead of maybe giggling at a younger man’s adorable/innocent/whatever tomfoolery.

'In fact many members of the cast and crew have been in touch since this latest storm blew up giving me their support,' he insists. 'I won't name them because I don't want anyone to find themselves in the firing line.'

I think he should name them. Just for fun. Come on! Because I doubt there have been (m)any. If this story teaches anything, it’s that whatever you say/do can come back to haunt your celebrity status years later in most unexpected ways. Or maybe he was always the intended main course, Noel Clarke only the appetiser...

[againstshame]

Anonymous request for advice: “My brother is autistic and unemployed and I’m worried about his future."

Topics include: employment, hygiene, stimming that is disruptive and physically dangerous to others, “overeating”, family dynamics.

“Hello. I really hope I don’t come off as ableist. I just need some advice about my autistic  brother. He is currently 26 years old but has no goal or ambitions for his future ( everyone has a different pace I know) His special interest is in cartoons, and and researching about them (which I think is neat ) but it’s the only thing he does besides eat (this has resulted in obesity). He has had one job before, but disliked it, so my mom let him quit.

He is perfectly content just eating and watching tv, I am very worried about his future. I imagine he will stay with my mom until she passes, doing what he is doing now. What about after? We try to talk to him but I think he doesn’t really listen, he just waits for the conversation to be over. For example he only showers on Sunday, and we ask him why and suggest that maybe he can just use a wash cloth but he refuses, so we just have to deal with the odor every week

Like I said he is very large so when he stims (he stomps and spins) it shakes the house and the floorboards make a lot of noise and my teachers ask me what it is  cause it can be heard through my mic even when I’m in the basement ( online school). I ask him to be quieter but he ignores me ( I am younger) also I can’t get it attention because he is swinging his arms and I don’t want to get hit like when we were younger.

I don’t know if there’s much to be done about that tho. Is there any way to motivate my brother, how can tell my brother to think about his future. How can I talk to him in a way that he can hear me.   I am sorry if I used ableist language or phrases, if someone who is autistic or has autistic siblings can lend some advice, it would be appreciated   I want him to be able to live his life even without my mom.  Thank you.”

--

Thank you for writing in. This is a difficult situation to be in, and I hope I can offer at least some encouragement and some clarity, if not a solution.

I am autistic, and so is my brother. My brother is a little bit like yours, in that he doesn’t work and lives with my parents, while I’ve moved away. I’m older than him, though, and he may not care about my opinion about some things, but he doesn’t totally ignore me and he doesn’t physically intimidate me.

I have no idea if your brother’s life has been anything like mine, but I can tell you about the time I spent as an unemployed autistic young adult, living on my parents’ money. The main thing I can tell you is that all pressure from others to get a job or "think about my future" did was make me feel overwhelming panic. It may have seemed like I was living a carefree life but I was constantly aware that I wasn't living up to what a Good Normal Person was supposed to do, and the shame and anxiety that I felt about that were so severe that they prevented me from taking action to get a job or continue school. I tried, but most of the time, applying for jobs was so panic-inducing that I couldn’t force myself to do it.

I had no context for what work would be like, no framework to imagine what kind of job I would like or be good at. It was just a complete blank in my mind. I could not actually *want* a job, because I had no idea what it would be like- I couldn't even really imagine what having my own income would be like- which made it difficult cognitively to plan for getting one.

But also, in particular I had no conception of what a supervisor or coworker could be like other than someone who would judge me and hate me for not being normal. Looking at job postings all I could think about was how terrified I was of being judged and found inadequate. And whenever my parents or others tried to encourage me to apply for jobs, all I felt was that they were angry and disappointed with me for being a failure.

This was because most of my experience of interacting with people outside my family consisted of being bullied and socially isolated by my peers, and being mistreated by teachers. I was not able to get a job until I began to understand just how much I hated myself, why I felt that way, and how my ways of coping with (/hiding from) that feeling were limiting me. And even so, I'm certain I wouldn't have managed to apply for the first "real job" I did get except that I knew there wouldn't be an in-person interview.

I needed: 1. Self-knowledge, analysis of how I was feeling, where it came from and ways to cope with it 2. Concrete information, so that I could say "I could be good at this job" and actually believe it 3. And even with all that, I needed accommodations around the things that were most difficult and fraught for me (interviews).

Thinking back on my own experiences after I graduated from college, I'm really not sure there's anything my friends or family could have done to help me get a job sooner. There was a lot of internal work that I had to do just to be able to interact with people without being incapacitated by anxiety.

My path to getting a "real job" started with volunteer work, in which I learned skills that I was later able to get paid for, and became familiar with organizations that would hire me to do those things. That worked for me because 1. it was online, so it avoided some of the issues I had about meeting new people and talking to people in real time, and 2. I could essentially try out what it was like to have that job by volunteering, with no barrier to entry and no consequences if I decided to back out. That's the best advice I have for your brother- to sort of move laterally towards a paying job through volunteer work, topics he's already interested in, communities he's already connected to.

--

Finally, a word of caution. In your message you mention several different issues with your brother, and I think it's important to be clear about the distinctions between these different issues and why you're concerned about them.

Some of them are problems *for your brother* that don't directly affect you, but you're concerned on his behalf (his future financial security) Some of them *do* directly affect you (noisy stimming while you're trying to focus on school) Some of them aren't really direct, immediate problems for either of you, but they seem like bad things on general principle (being fat)

Our feelings about other people are naturally a mixture of reactions to many different things about them, but please be careful.

It may seem better or more justifiable to say that your brother needs to change for his own good, for the sake of his future, than to ask him to change because he's bothering you, but it's not better. Covering the one thing with the other minimizes your own needs and feelings, which deserve to be listened to and respected, and it makes your comfort and safety depend on controlling your brother's life to a degree that is beyond your right *or your ability* to control.

If he were a significantly different version of himself who had a full-time job and showered regularly and wasn't in your house all the time making you feel like you have no space to yourself, that would sure solve all your problems, but nothing you can do will make him become that person. You especially can’t fix him if you don't trust each other, like each other or listen to each other. Even if you could make him change somehow, it wouldn’t be your responsibility to fix his life for him. That’s a big burden to take on! What you can do, though, is recognize your own needs and find ways to stand up for them.

I don't think I have any really useful insight about getting your brother to take you seriously when you say he's making too much noise. I don't think that's an autism-specific problem. When people have been doing something a certain way for a long time, and it's always seemed to be okay, it can take some repetition to get them to understand that something is actually not okay and they need to change their behavior in the long term.

My advice is what I've heard general advice bloggers say about general interpersonal conflicts: talk to him about it *not* "in the moment" when he's being noisy and you're in class, but at a time when neither of you is stressed and you have time to discuss it. Bringing in other people (your mother?) to confirm that this is a significant problem may help. Still, you may have to repeat yourself a lot.

If your mother *won't* take your side, even for a very reasonable compromise like "do that stim somewhere else" or "at this specific time while I'm on a zoom call, do a different stim," then... that’s not fair to you, and maybe you should think about getting *yourself* out of this house instead of your brother.

The bottom line, I think, is that none of this should have to be your responsibility. You haven’t said your exact age, but you’re still in school. You deserve to be able to make setting *yourself* up for a good life your top priority. It’s good that you want to help your brother, but there may not be much that you can do- especially if he doesn’t *want* to listen to you. I think you should focus on taking care of yourself, and if that incidentally helps your brother or improves your relationship with him, that’s a bonus.

[thedeaditeslayer]

The Cool Side of My Pillow Interview: A Trip Inside the Mind of Bruce Campbell.

When you mention the name Bruce Campbell, the first thing that readily springs to most people’s minds is the boomstick toting, chainsaw-wielding final guy of the Evil Dead franchise, Ash Williams. However, for some of his fans, he will be forever linked with the Harvard educated, resourceful bounty hunter, Brisco County, Jr. Then, of course, there will be those devotees of Burn Notice that will be quick to let you know that Sam Axe, the ex-Navy Seal with a love of Mojitos and Tommy Bahama shirts is their guy because we all know, “Chuck Finley is forever.” For those of you that have never had the pleasure of watching the inventive spy show, Chuck was Sam’s alias that he would use as a cover on certain operations. The mere fact that Bruce Campbell is a part of three vastly different fandoms says quite a bit about his ability as an actor as well as his likeability quotient.

A headliner on the convention circuit for years, the minute he is announced as a guest, tickets go flying out the door and venues sell out. Campbell understands what the people want and he is more than willing to give it to them which is why most promoters clamor to book him. His Q & A sessions are legendary and audiences love the way he sarcastically banters with them. In addition to being an accomplished actor, director and producer, Bruce is also a New York Times bestselling author with four books under his belt. If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B-Movie Actor, Hail to the Chin: Further Confessions of a B-Movie Actor, Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way and his soon to be released, The Cool Side of My Pillow.

His latest book is a collection of essays or as he would say, “rants.” This venture is unlike any of the previous mentioned titles and perhaps his most personal effort to date. In a sense, you get to take a trip inside Campbell’s mind. He expresses his feelings and opinions on a variety of topics from current events and social media to his code of ethics. I was fortunate enough to chat with Bruce about The Cool Side of My Pillow, and his future projects. After reading his book, you come away with the knowledge of how genuine and thoughtful he is which is refreshing in this day and age.

Diabolique: What I like so much about The Cool Side of My Pillow is your honesty. Your writing style makes the reader feel as if they are having an intimate conversation with you. You don’t hold anything back. There are certain aspects in the book which made me feel a tad uncomfortable because you shared some information that was deeply personal, in my mind. I don’t know if I would have included some of the things that you did.

BC: Oh, sure. You always have to decide where you stop. Where is the line? For me, it depends on the type of book. It depends on the type of subject matter. Every project is different.

Diabolique: Were some of the subjects you tackled cathartic for you?

BC: I don’t normally do that sort of stuff. I’m happy to share if I feel something is useful. In the chapter, “What Are You On?” I’m not ragging on people who have habits. I have habits that was the point. There are very few people that just go through their daily life without jacking themselves up, knocking themselves down, knocking themselves out, you know? So, its kind of amazing. The human condition fascinates me.

Diabolique: “A Little Effort Goes a Long Way” is one of my favorite segments. A tale of hard work, ingenuity and perseverance. Which is key to succeeding in the entertainment industry. Where does your drive come from? Some people can pinpoint it to relatives, a mentor…

BC: I do attribute some of it to the Detroit metro area. A lot of my buddies worked on the line, they worked in the factories, it was a great summer job that paid really good money. In Detroit, it was weird. There weren’t a lot of discussions about hopes and dreams. But I could see things happen incrementally that encouraged us. My grandfather worked for ALCOA Aluminum for over 40 years. Would he want to do that job? Was it his favorite job? He wouldn’t even know; it was his only job. He had that job for his whole adult life. My dad wanted to be a painter. I call him a “go betweener” because he didn’t do exactly what he wanted to do but he didn’t do what he didn’t want to do. He got into advertising because it was sort of creative but it wasn’t creative enough so he got into community theater which was more creative. That filled a very strong niche for him and so he kind of straddled the line and then I came along. He allowed me to pretty much do whatever the hell I wanted to do in whatever industry I wanted. He was the first investor in Evil Dead. So, I benefited from the transition of ONLY having drive. Meaning, you just go to work, it doesn’t matter what the job is. The next generation is, “Well, the job kinda matters.” My generation is, “The job matters a hundred percent,” because it determines what you’ve decided to do with your life. So, I am grateful for having enough drive but grateful for being injected with enough freedom of thought to then do my own thing. Partly the drive is the Midwest because you put a tie on, put your sport coat on and you go to work. Get your briefcase, shine your shoes and off you go.

Diabolique: Do you think it is important if you want to be in the arts to have a benefactor? Not necessarily monetarily but someone who encourages you like your dad?

BC: Well, my mom did sort of amateur writing so she was sympathetic at least to that side of the arts. She liked that creative side. My dad was way more interested in acting. So, I saw him in plays and stuff. I definitely benefitted because I had a sensibility that was similar to my dad. My two older brothers could give a shit about acting. They never touched it. I think my dad saw, “Hey, the young guy likes acting just like me.” That was probably an advantage.

Diabolique: Another thing about that particular section that is fascinating to note is your resourcefulness. The anecdote that you recount about having to come up with a way to deliver newspapers in a horrendous snowstorm and the lengths that you went to just to do your job is inspiring. I feel like that isn’t something that would be done by the younger generation, these days.

BC: We were pre-slackers and again, this isn’t to sound like a crabby, old guy on a hill shouting down about the great old days, at that time there were no other options. Our boss dropped off these papers at the top of a hill. That was as far as his van could go. He dumped the whole thing on me and my brother. We delivered them together (the resolution involved Bruce donning hockey skates and a toboggan). So, we thought okay. There was no option of saying, “Dude, I can’t do it. They’re just not going to get their papers today.” That would be the current response. You would wait until the roads were plowed, like that night, and then you would get your damn paper the next day and you’d end up getting two papers. It wasn’t an option. There was nothing in my upbringing that said, you can tell your boss, no. Now, if I thought it would have been very dangerous or life threatening, I probably would have said, no but short of that, there was a slightly different mentality in the air. You did what you were fucking told, for the most part which is a little bit different now.

Diabolique: “The Princess Di Factor” was a thought-provoking chapter because you talk about the click-baiting, disinformation and too much information that occurs on social media. Some of your peers have their PR reps handle their feeds but you are very present in yours. Do you think someone who is interested in getting into show business has to obtain “influencer” status?

BC: I think there is certainly pressure to do it. The old actors when they were doing a film could get away with telling the local studio, “By the way, I don’t do social media.” They say, “I’ve never done it. I don’t have a Twitter feed. I’m not starting now.” They can get away with it. But a younger thespian has a website and at least two or three social media platforms. I think its important to get a distinction of what are using them for? Facebook is all mercenary. Whenever I post, its just for a link to get tickets. I just do that to keep the account warm but I won’t add to it. That one is really inflammatory. They are finally starting to take the misinformation down. It should just be illegal. The stats are mind boggling. Something like 65% of the people who refuse to do social distancing and stuff like that get their information from YouTube. Its not news sources. Its like the Wild West. I think it needs to be settled. I would introduce journalistic standards and practices where by if you tell a little white lie, you get yanked and if you get fact checked and the facts say you’re wrong, that gets yanked.

Diabolique: At the beginning of your book, you discuss the toll of COVID-19 isolation and changes to the convention and motion picture industries. After presenting the Ashland Independent Film Festival awards virtually, do you think conventions might go that route in the future? San Diego Comic Con has gone entirely online which is surprising. Galaxy Con is another.

BC: If we don’t straighten this out, yeah. Sports are going to be weird for a while. Large venues are just going to be strange. How are you going to figure out the San Diego Comic Con? How are they going to make people feel comfortable jamming 125,000 people over a four-day period into that convention center which is already elbow to elbow and unhealthy? I don’t know. I’ve talked to promoters about a bunch of different things. I’m doing a Drive-In tour. Also, some theaters have opened up again so I am going to encourage and reward that so I have added five theater dates for later this summer: Austin, Dallas, Houston, Oklahoma City and San Antonio. I’m getting back out on the road. This is not a tour year at all but when I heard that drive-ins were making a comeback, I thought let me be part of that. Some of them are struggling to open and I want to help. I’m tired of being on the sidelines. I want to get back into it. Drive-ins are perfect. You’ve got your distance. I can go up to cars and hassle them and there’s no problem. I can shine my flashlight in the cars, see if people are having sex, there’s a lot of fun stuff we can do. I want to be the first guy they meet when they come into the place to park. I want to be the guy that parks everybody. It’s time. Everyone wants to feel normal again. Eat the meatloaf sandwich. Going to the drive-in is the oldest meatloaf sandwich you could ever eat. Bring the hooch. Hide it under the seat. Bring a cooler, bring your reefer…

Diabolique: In The Cool Side of My Pillow, you mentioned that you were going to attend San Diego Comic Con, New York Comic Con and the 2020 Electronics Expo which were all canceled due to the pandemic. Were you going to promote the Evil Dead game?

BC: That’s what I was going to do. That’s what I was going to those conventions for.

Diabolique: What’s the status on it?

BC: I have been looking at and approving a bunch of new stuff. They are full-fledged, full bore into it. I think they are talking 2021 for an actual release. Its rolling along, looking great. It got delayed because of the nightmare of video games. Platforms change and evolve. You look at somebody else’s games and go, “Shit! We have to change everything now.” We have to stay current. I have to finish doing the voice work.

Diabolique: I know you are aware of all the rumors surrounding potential work in the future. You even mentioned in your book that you had a few offers. Is there a possibility that you might show up in Doctor Strange 2 and Mall Rats 2?

BC: The Kevin Smith thing could happen if it all winds up together but we haven’t had serious conversations about it. For Dr. Strange, everyone is at the mercy of what Marvel is going to do and this backlog of movies they’re going to do now. So, I think it won’t be until 2021. Marvel has to figure this all out. They have to figure out what movies they are going to do next, what movies they are going to delay, what movies they are going to shit can, what movies they are going to advance and speed up…the marketplace is ever fluid.

Diabolique: Do you have a release date in mind for The Cool Side of My Pillow?

BC: I have to say summer. We’re blasting away. We’re finishing graphics and photos and all that. We’re doing some legal crap. I’m starting a publishing company too. Tartan Media is going to release it. It will be my Campbell clan logo. It will be just to put things out. Movies, TV shows, whatever. That’s the new shingle.

Diabolique: Is there anything else on the horizon?

BC: Because the book isn’t going through Simon & Schuster, they’ll kind of have to find it where they find it. I’ll tweet about it. It will hopefully be available later this summer through Audible. I am going to do the audio book myself within the next two weeks because I want the e-book and the audiobook to come out at the same time. That way it gives you a choice. I want this to be a summer read.

Diabolique: Any updates on Bruce vs Frankenstein?

BC:  With Bruce vs Frankenstein, I talked with Mike Richardson, who is my partner on this and we’re going to start with a graphic novel. So, I am going to adapt the screenplay. We’re going to put that out first so people in the industry can get a better sense of it. Mike has been selling a lot of projects to Netflix and he said that’s kind of the way to go with his material and fantasy stuff so he suggested we do that first. We’ll get a great artist, sell it in comic book form, people can totally see it and as a director, its kind of like doing storyboards. It’s a tremendous amount of extra prep that I can do just by going through it because I actually have to think about pages, panels and descriptions. It’s a format that’s not my normal format. Screenplay format, I can fart, I got that down. This is different with the way it looks on the page so it will be a very interesting translation process.

Diabolique: Are you doing any projects outside of Tartan Media?

BC: There’s this movie, 18 ½. It’s directed by Dan Mirvish. He’s with Slamdance. The story is about the missing minutes of the Nixon tapes and what happened to those minutes. Originally, I got hired to play a character in the movie and I couldn’t do it for a number of reasons and then the guy came back and asked if I would play Nixon.

Diabolique: So, the audience will just hear you?

BC: Yes. Apparently, it’s this 18-minute-long fight scene where you will hear Nixon in the background. Ted Raimi comes into play Alexander Haig and Jon Cryer is playing Haldeman. We did all these sessions over Zoom and we each recorded them separately (saying this in Nixon’s voice) having our conversations. They will put it all together and put it in the background.

Diabolique: Anything new to report on Evil Dead?  

BC: The official name is Evil Dead Rise. We’re getting a new draft in. I don’t think anything will happen until 2021. Full bore ahead, we’re very excited about it. A whole, new ballgame. No more cabin in the woods.

[jeonggukingdom]

mots démoniaques, 3 | aquiver

▽ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

▽ Genre:  [mythological!AU, demon!AU] | Angst, Smut, Romance

▽ Summary:  You can sense from miles away the sin that dances on his tongue, the words that he so loves to shape into sinister thoughts and morph into sickening outcomes aimed at tainting and wrecking all things mundane and innocent. Kim Taehyung - a voice of honey and features of a cherub - is nothing but a monster. He has lived millenniums, yet, he has never found such a fascinating creature as you are and polluting your very being has slowly become his entire life motive.

▽ Word Count: 6.249 words

▽ prompt word: aquiver

▽ AN: The Amanojaku is a small demon that finds its roots in the Japanese folklore. Everything besides his name and his power - aka the ability to instigate people into wickedness with his words - is entirely the fruit of my own imagination and doesn’t have anything to do with the original myth.

▽ ▽  WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, oral sex (receiving), fingering, dirty talk.

« Previous | Next »

June, 2014

The white cotton shirt you’re wearing adheres to your skin in the most uncomfortable fashion, the fabric feeling like glue on your chest and the small of your back as you sweat your whole existence away.

It is one of those blazing hot days that makes you wish you owned AC in your apartment or, at the very least, a freaking fan to spend your days in front of. But, alas, you do not have the luxury of owning either of those and therefore, you are stuck with natural air circling in from the window as you stare into the distance, your mind riling up with thousands of thoughts and scenarios all at the same time.

Today is an important day, the most important one even—if you were to exclude graduating from college.

It has been roughly one year since your school career has come to an end and, well, news flash: being an adult sucks.

Finding a decent job wasn't as easy as you initially envisioned, even with your perfect performance at college and now, quite a few months later, you are facing the consequences of still deciding on going to live alone with your boyfriend—currently very unemployed, sadly.

It has been a hell of a ride so far and yet, a great part of you wouldn't change a thing just because with him, you have come to experience real happiness. You know, the one not even money can buy.

But as you nervously tap your foot on the ground, you do find your heart swelling in apprehension over the news Taehyung will bring with him back home.

You have finally found a decent job at a nice office a good forty minutes bus drive away from your own tiny-ass apartment and, in the past four months, your entire income has been devolved to keeping you and your boyfriend alive while still being able to pay the rent.

Today, though, things could potentially turn in a far better direction.

Taehyung left in the morning for his final job interview at a corporate across town, one that he'd been dreaming to work for at least for the past year.

The long selection of candidates had been draining on you both in equal measure in both spirit and finances.

Let it all be worth it, please. That is the thought passing through your head like a mantra for the hundredth time when you hear the unequivocal rumble of Taehyung's old motorcycle turning around the corner.

That bloody thing is bound to leave him stranded in the middle of the street one day—honestly, it is a miracle it is still in one piece and moving.

Taehyung has inherited his bike from his father and he had bought it with his first salary when he was still a teenager.

Basically, the thing is pretty much ancient and needs more work than it is worth and, even if you both were willing to try and turn it back to its initial splendour, without a single penny to spare it can only remain a dream.

You usually hate the sound of that god-damn motorcycle or the unbearable stink that comes with it in the air as it puffs out pretty much charcoal but, today, even that sound feels different. It feels full of hope for the future, full of promises.

You almost jump from the parapet to get inside your living room—well, living room, bedroom, and kitchen because you couldn't afford more than a two-room apartment—and rush to the door, waiting for him like a puppy ready to welcome its owner.

Your feet keep thumping on the floor nervously as you eagerly wait for the door to spring open and for Taehyung's face to appear before you, hopefully with a wide grin spread on his lips. If you had a tail, you'd definitely be shaking it right about now.

Your heart misses a beat as you hear the sound of the key being thrust inside the keyhole to unlock the door and a few seconds after, your boyfriend's face comes in view, his eyes becoming as big as saucers as they land on you and the expectant look painted on your features.

His lips turn a little downwards as he faces you while closing the door behind his back.

"So?" You ask eagerly and you do realize how annoying you must look like, especially if he's actually bringing bad news alongside him but you simply cannot help yourself.

He clears his throat, his eyes diverting from your face to the floor, his shoulders slumping as he starts biting his bottom lip.

Your face falls alongside his mood, your heart feeling like somebody is squeezing it hard inside your chest.

"I'm sorry, ________, I..." Taehyung's voice is barely above a whisper as he opens his mouth, his eyes still focused on anything but you and you hate it.

You hate how he must feel right now, you also hate yourself for running to the door so expectantly you installed in him the fear of letting you down. But most importantly, you hate the sound of your own voice as you try to make it all better with your words.

"It's ok, baby, we'll still manage," it doesn't sound convincing even to your own ears as you voice your thoughts out loud, trying to sell a lie to him and to yourself as well.

The past few months have been rough and, frankly, it will only get rougher as time goes by, as winter comes and you'll need to warm up the place and actually heat food on the stove to keep yourself from freezing to death.

"I'm sorry," Taehyung repeats, his voice sounding so broken it moves you on the verge of tears.

That is until he lifts up his face and the brightest grin you've ever seen is plastered on it. What was breaking his voice up weren’t choked up tears, it was the attempt of keeping the giggles in.

"I'm sorry to inform you we are going to move out this rat-hole by the end of the month!"

A couple of seconds pass between the words he pronounces and your reaction to them. There is that tiny fraction of a second where you fail to comprehend what his words entail that has Taehyung absolutely beaming before your very eyes.

“You mother-fucker!” The shriek you produce in response to his teasing makes him laugh out loud, his eyes still glinting with mischief and pride over his astounding acting skills.

You would feel very livid about him joking about something so important if your whole life didn’t depend on it. Anger is very quickly subdued by utter joy and relief and hope for a far greater future.

It’s those feelings that propel your body forward, your arms reaching for your boyfriend so that you can finally hug him tight to your chest, feel his warmness even in the scorching hot summer day and simply relish in his presence, in your being together here and now, ready to start a new chapter of your lives.

You are unaware of the tears spilling down your eyes and staining your cheeks a mellow grey until Taehyung’s grasp around your body tightens, his eyes searching for yours as guilt and concern peek through them.

“Why are you crying, baby?” His voice is low and soft and it makes your insides melt like butter under the sun. How is he still capable of doing this after the many years you’ve spent together, you wonder.

“I’m just happy,” you murmur, your voice trembling as you try to gulp down all the emotions that menace to spill out of you like a downpour.

The weight of the past couple of months, the fear of crippling depth getting closer every single day, the doubts for the future and the effort to keep up the strong façade and a happy smile on your lips even during the hardest of times all come tumbling down with the relief of his news. It’s as if he broke down all the walls you had built around your weak heart in one single blow and now, everything is overflowing in every direction and you simply have no means to control it any more.

Taehyung’s delicate fingers reach your cheeks to catch the tears before they dry on your warm skin, his lips plant little loving kisses on top of your head and his voice turns soft and gentle as he tries to dissipate the storm of emotions taking over you.

You’d love to stop crying, especially because you’re supposed to be celebrating right now, but it feels like you will never stop doing so just because, for months, you have forced all of them down to the point you were almost choking on them every time you had to breathe.

Long minutes pass before the little sobs come to a halt and your red and puffy eyes are given reprieve from the overflowing cascade.

By the time your quivering and ragged breath slows down completely, you are beyond tired, almost as if you have just run a marathon during the hottest hours of the day.

Your mouth is completely dry, to the point it almost feels like your tongue has turned into sandpaper, and your head is thrumming with the unequivocal beginning of a tremendous headache.

Your boyfriend smiles at you, his lips turning thin as they curve up while his eyes shine with unspoken relief.

“There we go,” he mutters, drying up every last drop of tears stuck under your lash line and you smile back at him whilst sniffing loudly through your clogged nose.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your eyes fixing on your feet in shame and remorse over your complete breakdown.

Taehyung’s fingers caress your left cheek before wrapping around your chin to tilt it upwards and force your eyes back on him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, so stop apologising,” he whispers back before touching your nose with the tip of his own, the tenderness of the little touch tugging at your heartstrings to the point you can feel it swelling inside your chest.

"There is one thing though," he adds after a few seconds and you tilt your head upwards a little bit further to pry inside his eyes.

The question pending on your tongue can easily be read by Taehyung without you needing to voice it out loud for him and it paints an amused smile on his lips.

"I've been dying to kiss you since I left this morning so, may I?" The playfulness in his tone makes you scoff out loud, your eyes rolling towards the ceiling as you feign annoyance over his antics when, in reality, you both know you have been waiting for his touch the whole day as well so it doesn't really come as a surprise that you close the distance between your faces in an instant, eager to claim his mouth.

Taehyung's lips are as soft as cotton candy and just as sweet as they open for you, welcoming your tongue as you easily move it past his teeth to play with his own.

The kiss is slow and deep and it makes your eyes flutter close and a sigh escape your lips as you twist your head a little to the side, making it easier for him to bend forward and hold you close to his chest.

His big hands keep you steady and firm, flush against him with a possessive hold that makes your heart pump hard against your ribcage.

“Tae...,” the tiny whimper that moves past your swelling lips is all it takes for his hands to move southwards and turn a little more passionate, just a drop rougher on your supple flesh.

His fingers easily palm the expanse of your ass, squeezing your cheeks in a way that makes you hiss in nothing but pure arousal.

You can feel your nipples hardening against the dump fabric of your shirt and there is no doubt he can feel them too with your chests pressed so tightly together.

He tilts his head a little further to the side to leave your mouth and rather attack the tender skin under your ear.

Taehyung’s lips can always be either a blessing and a curse and as they hardly press against your skin they feel like one and the other at the same time.

He blooms deep purple flowers on his favourite spot between the curve of your jawline and your clavicles and every little suck, every little lick of his tongue, make you shiver and sigh for him.

“I’ve been thinking about you the whole day,” he confesses through heavy breaths as his fingers tug on the hem of your wet shirt to lift it off of you.

Your arms automatically fly up to the sky, your back arching a little to help the fabric off of your hot and needy flesh.

“Yeah?” You whisper, throwing your head backwards as he pulls your bra down to free your breasts from their confinement, “And what have you been thinking about?”

You lick your lips as his mouth encloses around your already-hardened left nipple, his teeth gracing the delicate flesh in a teasing manner that has your walls contracting on thin air in expectation.

“Oh, all sort of things,” he hums with that low tone of his he knows gets to you every single time.

The sound of his voice as deep as the ocean is usually more than enough to turn you soaking wet and as his mouth works his way on the expanse of your chest, there is not a single doubt your underwear is already being ruined beyond salvage by your growing arousal.

“All the nasty things I’d love to do to you,” he says next as he unclasps your bra to discard it on the floor and move on to his next target.

He falls to his knees and your hands automatically fly to his long and curly brown locks to tug a little on them and make him hiss for you—if sounds could be described as sensations, what escapes from Taehyung mouth during lewd activities would be like warm and liquid honey moving past your lips, falling down your throat and finally coiling inside your stomach to blissfully fill it in heat on a frigid winter day.

“Like bending you over the table in my future office and taste your delicious pussy in front of everyone.”

The lascivious words that leave his mouth in a deep whisper draw a needy moan out of yours, they turn your fingers rough on his hair and they subdue any lingering emotions by drowning them all in wanton desire.

“Would you like that, baby?” He asks, his voice suggesting he already knows perfectly well the answer to his question but has no intention to stop teasing you in every possible way he can.

His hands are slow and gentle as they reach behind your back, their focus clearly the hem of your cotton shorts and what lies beneath them and you only make it easier for him when you lean into his touch so obediently, so blinded by the need to feel him everywhere around you. The silky fabric slides down your legs with utter ease, pooling at your ankles at his command so that he can finally seek the treasure he had been looking for.

His slender fingers are all over your butt cheeks in an instant, the warmness of his touch making you sigh and close your eyes in blissfulness.

Just like his voice, Taehyung’s hands hold incredible power on the tips of its digits and it is evident in the way your body awakens under the simplest of touches.

The sensation of his tongue flat on your coated sex comes unexpectedly while you are blinded by your closed eyelids and it makes you whimper out for him, your heart missing a beat as expectation starts to spread all over your body.

“You are so eager tonight, baby” He hums a few inches away from your soaked panties, successfully sending shivers to run up and down your spine, “Have you been thinking about me as well, perhaps?”

His words are spoken with a suggestive tone in them that makes it clear he, yet again, already knows the answer to his question but still would like to hear you speak it out loud for him.

His eyes turn expectant as he lifts his gaze up to you in a puppy-like demeanour that tugs at your heartstrings anew and makes it impossible for you to resist him—not that you even want to.

“I always think about you,” you confess, your voice quivering as soon as you see his mouth drawing closer to your neglected sex.

His eyes are still stuck on you as he stops right atop your core, so close that his breath keeps caressing the dampened underwear in slow waves that make your insides twitch blissfully.

“Yeah? And what do you think about?” His voice is low, barely above a whisper but you still catch up on every syllable that falls from his beautiful mouth.

You clear your throat after gulping down heavily, your heart thumping fast against your ribcage as you ponder over your response because you know, without a single doubt, he will give it to you. Whatever you desire, he is ready to hand to you and the infinite list of things he is capable of beautifully torturing you with make it quite the demanding task for you to choose.

“I think about your mouth kissing my sex,” you whimper out, foretasting the moment his lips will come in contact with your sex and surely, a few seconds after, they do, eagerly following your directions.

“I think about you pulling down my panties with your teeth.”

His eyes shine with mischief as they refocus on you, the playful smirk on his lips only an inkling of his true and most devious intentions.

His pearly whites come in contact with your feverish skin, masterfully wrapping around the hem of your underwear to drag it down your legs and finally release your wet core.

He nuzzles his face between your legs, inhaling loudly to fill his sense of smell with your scent.

You gasp for him whilst resuming your strong hold on his locks, turning quite demanding and explicit with your desires.

“What else?” He whispers on your core, the nice vibrations making you shiver from head to toe.

“You-your tongue teasing me, tasting me, torturing me-ah!”

The words have barely the chance to leave your mouth before he’s all over you, tasting you like he is a famished man in front of a fucking feast and you are rendered speechless in the span of a few seconds.

His hands still firmly pressed on your ass keep you perfectly in place as he savours your dripping arousal with his lavish tongue, the sounds he emits as he eats you out a blessing to the ears.

All the little grunts, the heavy pants as he struggles to breathe between your legs, the slurping sounds as he voraciously claims every single drop that escapes past your lips throw you into a haze of pleasure that has you demanding more from him in whimpering broken whispers.

A sigh of both relief and disappointment escapes your mouth as you are given reprieve from his ministrations. In any other occasion, you would tug harder on his locks, make it clear that you wish for more but you did say ‘torturing me’ and, surely, Taehyung has every intention of following your words to perfection.

His eyes refocus on you, glinting with desire and playfulness and you can’t help but crack a smile for him and turn your grasp gentler, affectionate.

The fingers that were almost painfully locked in his hair are now caressing his head, his cheeks and his rosy lips wet with your juices.

He turns his face to the side to plant a quick and delicate kiss on the palm of your hand before leaning into your touch, closing his eyes to savour the sensation of your fingers on his skin.

“What else have you thought about me doing?” He asks next, his voice thick with need and devotion.

“Fucking me on this floor,” the confession makes your skin boil because on any other day you would have never admitted it out loud but as Taehyung’s eyes focus on you, desire burning inside his onyx eyes, there is not a single drop of regret in you.

“Is that so...” he whispers atop your skin before placing light kisses on your inner thigh, his tone pensive as if he is trying to envision claiming your body right here, right now.

His hands move from the curve of your ass to your hips, applying just enough force to drag your body down so you can lie on the floor beneath him.

“What about our fine carpet?” He asks as your back hits the rough fabric of the ancient rug, his eyes curious as he pries into yours.

His legs rest on either side of your hips, his hands trapping your head in place as he expectantly looks down at you, a little smirk already drawn on his mouth.

“We can afford a new one now, can’t we?”

Taehyung laughs at your words, shaking his head a little with your unexpected response.

“We really can, my love.” He says after a few seconds while inching forward to attack your neck and plant a few kisses there and rejoice in the little sighs you produce.

Your eyes flutter shut as he drags his lips downward, gracing your skin with the softest of touches to both shower you with love and make you squirm impatiently the closer he gets to where your desire lies.

The gentle kisses feel far warmer when they are planted on your mouth and they make your hips roll forward, desperate to feel more of his inciting touch.

When his mouth opens and he inhales loudly you close your eyes even harder in response whilst holding your breath, your body feeling on the brink of self-destructive implosion as you wait for him to claim you anew.

His heavenly lips encircle your clitoris with masterful precision and your back arches for him, your mouth opens in a silent moan that makes him suck on the little trigger in retaliation until you are forced to whimper out his name.

“I want to hear you,” he says, his lips brushing your skin as he slightly lifts his gaze up to meet your own.

Just like you, Taehyung has a fixation over the little sound you can produce while having sex with him and you know pretty well how worked up he can get by them and that is precisely why you give up any resolve about being quiet the instant his slender fingers start teasing your dripping core.

“Baby... please,” the quivering whine that escapes from your lips makes him smile in satisfaction, the little smirk looking almost infuriating to you when you’d put his mouth to far better use, “Stop teasing,” you add, a little pout turning your lips downwards in that adorable way you know gets to him every single time.

Without fail, Taehyung follows your pleas and directions with rapid eagerness to please you and in an instant, his slender fingers are lodged inside of you, stretching your walls in all the right places.

Your sighs and soft mewls fill the room alongside the sound of your squelching core under his masterful ministrations.

Taehyung stares into your face with that mesmerizing look of adoration that makes your insides absolutely melt while he completely ruins you with his touch.

It is maddening to see how much he knows your body and what it likes, it is almost scary to realize there isn't a single part of you he hasn't explored already, being so bent on mapping your entire body with his own, in every way possible.

It is impossibly easy for him to reach and find all the pleasure spots hidden within you and he does it so masterfully it leaves you absolutely breathless every single time.

His tongue darts out of his mouth again to tease your clitoris and make your eyes roll back inside your head. Your back arches almost instantly as he consequently curls his fingers inside of you, timing his ministration in a way that doesn't allow any reprieve.

Your breath turns ragged, your lips start to tremble as you part them to beg him for more whilst the pressure in your stomach gets stronger, heavier.

Reading your body like an open book, Taehyung slides another one of his digits inside of you, the motion rendered sleek and effortless by your dripping arousal.

"Tae..." the begging tone of your voice draws his eyes back on you, his lips twisting into another smile as he lifts his face up after leaving the apex of your core with a lewd pop.

His fingers turn a little rougher inside of you as you stare down at him, your mouth still parted as if you were about to say something else but found yourself incapable of doing so.

You gulp down heavily, the rhythm set between your legs turning almost bruising as you start to whimper for him, unsure yourself whether you want him to stop or keep going until you are melting right on the palm of his hand.

"I-," you quickly lick your lips, your mouth feeling suddenly dry by the pending release that has your walls already contracting wildly all around his fingers, "I want m-more."

Taehyung's eyes seem to turn into two onyx stones for a second, not a single glint of light reflected in them but, when he stares down at your core again, you find yourself whimpering at the lust reflected in those irises.

Your legs bend a little as you turn a little shy under his gaze, the desire of covering up the state of your battered sex growing almost overpowering as he licks his lips as if he is about to taste the most delicious meal ever.

His eyes shoot you a warning glare and before you know it, his mouth is secured around your little trigger again, sucking and pulling on the tender flesh until you are whimpering in pleasure and coating both his hand and his face with your glistening release.

"Beautiful," he mutters to himself as he releases your sex with both his mouth and fingers, allowing you to finally catch your breath.

Your body shudders at the sensation of emptiness he leaves within your sex as he draws back to take a better look at the state he has so quickly reduced you to.

"I want more," you croak out, your eyes pointedly fixing between his legs and the evident tent in them.

He laughs and clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side while raising his eyebrows in a taunting way that dares you to be more specific, pronounce the final lascivious words that are standing between you and his almighty cock.

"In my fantasies, you never have clothes on," you chose to say, aiming to resume your little game.

Taehyung scoffs at your choice but still happily complies, not wasting the chance he was given of teasing you, yet again.

His fingers are still coated in your arousal and he makes it a point to lick them off before you, his eyes shining with mischief as he makes all those lewd sounds that turn your skin boiling hot and your core absolutely aflame in anticipation.

His fingers glisten with his saliva mixed with the remnants of your arousal as he lets them drop to the hem of his shirt, eager to finally set himself free.

He lifts his own t-shirt off and discards it somewhere behind him, carelessly throwing the fabric away so that he can step out of his pants next and feel some relief on his neglected sex.

His underwear is white and thin and it does absolutely nothing to conceal both his boner and the dark spot right in front of the tip of his cock.

"Do you see what you do to me without even touching me, baby?" He says as he palms himself before you, his eyes still fixed on your features to gauge your reaction.

You lick your lips in expectation, almost feeling the tip of his cock moving past your them and blessing you with his bittersweet taste and surely your train of thoughts must be really apparent because he sighs loudly and squeezes his sex harder, almost as if he's imagining your lips closing around it.

"Are you going to make me beg for it?" You retort whilst opening your legs a little more to draw his eyes back on your dripping core.

As soon as his gaze is fixed right where you wanted it to be you roll your hips suggestively, your left hand teasing your own swollen lips to taunt him a little bit further.

He draws in a sharp breath and cuts the distance between your bodies short while removing his boxer briefs in one go.

"Absolutely not," he retorts, his voice quivering as his hand flies to his now liberated cock.

The sight of his head tinted a painful-looking red glistening with arousal makes your mouth water and for a moment you do consider closing your legs, tease him a little by denying him access to your sex just to take him in your mouth but as he gives himself a little pump to release some of the scorching desire you cave in completely, too eager to finally have him inside of you to care about silly little games.

Taehyung stares right inside your eyes as he lodges himself between your legs, his hands on either side of your head.

"You know I love you, right?" He whispers, placing a soft and chaste kiss on top of your lips—a striking juxtaposition to the way his cock is slightly twitching atop your core, your skin deliciously brushing together as he nicely coats his sex with your juices.

You nod your head yes a few times and steal another kiss from his mouth before openly voicing out your feelings as well.

"I love you too, baby, so so much."

Taehyung smiles and places playful kisses on your jawline while aligning himself with your sex, clearly unable to resist any longer.

The moment the tip of his head moves past your labia you sigh in unison, relief spreading through your limbs as you finally get a taste of what you had been craving for the entire day.

His lips find the curve of your neck again and as he starts to push himself inside of you, inch by inch, he decides to suck onto the tender flesh until you are whimpering at the sensation of your skin being pulled by the passionate vice whilst your walls get stretched so blissfully by his engorged cock.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispers atop your skin as he switches to tender kisses on the same spot, his lips aiming to ease the little pain they provoked a few seconds ago.

"Yeah?" You whimper out as you move your legs to anchor them behind his back, "I can make you feel ten times better."

Your words make him groan loudly in the crook of your neck as he struggles to not slam right into you and finally quench his desire.

"Fuck me, baby," you add in a lewd whisper as your arms encircle his neck to keep him close to you as you start rolling your hips to meet his.

Your words really do pull the last straw for him and as they leave your mouth, he sinks right inside of you with a deep growl.

Your eyes roll inside your head, your back arching a little as he starts pushing and pulling his hips towards your sex, aiming effortlessly at the sweet spot he has conquered an incredible amount of times already.

Taehyung voice turns soft again as he whispers sweet nothings inside your ear to tell you how good you are to him, how much he loves you, how grateful he is for having you and also some lewd things like how well you take his cock, how much he loves your pussy and the way your voice sounds when you moan his name out loud for everyone to hear. All the things he says—both the sweet and the passionate ones—work like absolute magic on your body and mind and they turn you into a whimpering, boiling hot mess.

The smell of his cologne seems to amplify as sweat pools on his forehead, his neck, the small of his back and it is intoxicating. It feels like being drowned by his essence, like your own body is getting swept away by it, no, absorbed by it until there is simply no beginning and no end to the both of you.

His hips roll slowly into yours to deepen his thrusts and you pull him even closer to your chest, whimpering his name in his ears just the way he loves it, making him visibly shudder on top of you.

Taehyung grunts at the little sounds you make and picks up his pace to draw more out of you, louder ones and oh, he does.

You are absolutely shameless at this point and it doesn't matter that the walls on this apartment are paper-thin and people can certainly hear the both of you. In fact, you welcome the idea that they might be right about now, and that they may be imagining what you two are doing on the floor and, even more, that they might be getting excited by it.

"Tae," you whimper out again, your bottom lip quivering as your own fantasies and imagination start piling up wood to the already burning fire.

Your voice must sound pleading to his ears, maybe even desperate and it is evident once he starts picking up his pace to turn it bruising inside of you.

The head of his cock brushes relentlessly against your trigger spot and your chest starts heaving as a wave of pleasure washes over you from the tip of your toes right up to your skull.

The deep moan that escapes your mouth is only an inkling of the force of the pleasure that is taking over you and as Taehyung slows down a little you find yourself desperately whimpering at the accidental orgasm denial.

"Come here, baby," he says, his voice low and thick with raw passion as he lifts you up to have you sit on top of him.

"I want you to look inside my eyes as you come," he whispers before stealing a kiss from your mouth.

Your chests brush together as you slowly start to roll your hips forward to meet his, the sensation of his hot flesh pressed against your own hardens your nipples, adding stimulation to the already raging fire between your legs.

"Are you-ah-are you close?"

You tilt your body a little backward, allowing your hips to sink deeper on top of him and he grunts in appreciation as his hands find purchase on the small of your back to keep you still as he fucks into you faster.

Taehyung's low moans and sighs are music to your ears and they turn you even more eager to reach that delightful release while consequently bringing him down with you.

Your mouth seeks his own with roughness, all tongues and teeth clashing against each other until you scream his name and the orgasm makes your body deliciously aquiver for him.

Pearly strings of cum coil inside your stomach as he releases his load inside of you a few seconds after your own orgasm, your juices mixing together and spilling on the poor and forever-ruined carpet while you try to catch your breaths.

You laugh in his arms as he looks down at the state of the both of you and the fabric underneath your sweaty bodies and, soon enough, he is giggling alongside you while shaking his head a little.

His arms move up behind your back so he can drag you down on the floor and keep you there, nicely secured in his arms.

"To a new chapter of our lives," he whispers atop your mouth before stealing a quick kiss from them and you smile down at him, happiness wildly blooming inside your heart at the prospect of a new life together with the man you love.

If only you knew.

Copyright © 2019 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved.

[kateemmerson]

#LocationFree - How are global nomads coping with their wanderlust lifestyle?

No one has been left unscathed, have we? We have all had to adjust, re-jig, process life, handle loss, and take stock …every single one of us? Same storm, different ship, right?

Amidst all the “stuff” going on globally, I recently listened to my heart and launched my 5th book, titled “10 Lessons for Living #LocationFree.” Originally planning to launch it much earlier, I waited until the time felt right and until I had the right energy to tackle it. I honestly feel that now, more than ever, we need to keep our dreams, ideals and possibilities ALIVE and top of mind.

Even if we are a bit stuck now, our thinking and feeling do NOT have to be stuck.

In the process of writing this book, I wanted to offer readers some varied perspectives and thus set about interviewing 16 awesome folks to get their views on living this lifestyle. When the book was released just 2 weeks ago, I really wanted to check back in and get their updates on living “LocationFree.” We are all between 40 and 60 years old, living our own version of this lifestyle all around the world. Essentially I wanted to see how the year had shaped up for them since our initial interview –  to see if they were more hellbent on continuing this vagabond lifestyle, to understand if something fundamental had shifted for them, or if perhaps world events have made them reconsider lifestyle choices related to all things #LocationFree?

#LocationFree is my preferred term, but it is often referred to as Global Nomad, Digital Nomad, Location Independent, Portable Pro, etc. The name is less important than what we live day-to-day.

I wanted to update myself, too. I have honestly had a profoundly ‘interesting’ year. I’m definitely NOT saying it was easy and straightforward, but that I dug deep and found ways to try and accept and lean into what was going on rather than resist it all. The latter option felt futile and counter-productive in every form. I contracted and tested positive for the covid lurgy back in March 2020 after hurriedly exit-ing South Africa. I was out there to launch my 4th book, “Write your Book in 100 Days,” with my business partner. We had multiple book launches and events, live interviews from some major PR rolling out. It was our chance to inspire and reconnect with all the wonderful South African writers in our community. Plus, all my annual medical appointments were booked for what might have been my last regular visit to South Africa.

As I tuned in and reacted to what was unfolding, I knew I needed to get on a plane fast, to the UK. I was due to travel via Dubai to visit a friend stationed there but decided to hotfoot it directly to the UK, just a couple of days before lockdown kicked in. After all, South Africa was officially no longer any form of “base” for me after the break up with my partner, so I didn’t fancy getting “stuck” there.

I knew I wanted to get to my mum in time for the first proposed lockdown so she wouldn’t be on her own. Well, for sanity, company, and a bit of TLC more than needing to “look after” her – she’s a super strong woman! But before being able to get to her, after testing positive for covid (I only ever experienced mild symptoms, thank goodness), I had to isolate myself for a month before it was deemed safe for me to stay with mum in her presidential home. We then ‘enjoyed’ three months of strict lockdown together. Lucky we had too much TV, laughter, wine, great food, daily walks, and I also celebrated my birthday with her. Zoom Style with friends around the world.

One of the hardest business challenges was letting go of our international Writing Retreats that were booked. It often takes folk at least a  year to decide, book, and pay for one of our retreats. Writers from all over the world were joining Sarah and me in Greece, Italy, and Spain for a total of four retreats and residencies. We had to face cancellations, field the uncertainty with massive deposits we had paid across to secure hotels, and handle the non-refundable deposit challenge. We initially postponed and shuffled dates later in 2020 in the eternal hope that we could still host them later in the year, and had clients ready to hop on planes… and then finally releasing them all in favour of 2021 dates. We “lost” some clients who couldn’t move to the new dates, and have not yet been able to start filling those spaces for 2021. That was my main income revenue down the sink. I know the entire world understands all the drastic financial challenges of the year and I am not alone in that. 

The moment it was “safe” enough to travel, and the world eased open a bit in the UK, I travelled to a wee Scottish island, Iona, for an overdue, personal and significant retreat. I had been wanting to reconnect with Iona to organise a writing retreat, so I was fulfilling two objectives. It is a very sacred isle that offers deep healing and was just what I needed. Mum was happy  (and I guess sad) to finally wave goodbye after three intense months together. The year has allowed me to live what I call a “revised version” of living location free – with restrictions and other things factored in, like everyone. I was planning on spending 2020 starting to look for my next Northern bases, so that has obviously been postponed. My heart is being pulled by the idea of setting up some version of flexible homes in both Scotland and the Mediterranean – but that will need to wait until I can travel abroad to explore that option more fully.

I am just not a ONE HOME type of gal. Any future partner I have in life needs to know that a deep love for travel and adventure is wired into my cells. But I am starting to consider a couple of bases to move between, with loads of side- travel too!

So I relished a much quieter work year. I was already planning on taking time off from running regular online writing mentorships as I needed a break from that intense type of work, and then all our summer writing retreats retreated into the distance. So I took most of the year off to be in the GAP. I stayed in quieter retreat –type mode with myself.

I embarked on an intense, personal retreat process on Iona to recalibrate again. I went offline for 3 weeks and 80% offline for a further 5 weeks. The poor wifi signal helped that switching off process. But this was not about covid. To be honest, it was more related to where I am in my life and business cycle. I needed to do a mammoth, triple-angled closing out process. One was the ending of my relationship after five years, and another was leaving South Africa, and the third closing out a few aspects of what used to make up my business. But all that was happening despite covid’s impact. You can read more about that journey here.

On Iona I also fell headlong into a fantastic new heart-based hobby with the actual “making” of books, learning the art and skill of “Book Binding” or BookArt. I am smitten and have a bag of tools, paper, ink, and waxed linen thread to lug around now. If ever you come on a retreat with me, you will be sure to make your own book from now on!

Uhmmm, yes, the irony is that my motto is #LIVELIGHTELIVELARGE, so excess clothes can get turfed out of the suitcase but my new bookmaking tools will have to stay put for this #LocationFree gal.

I am still 100% pursuing my own version of living #LocationFree, just with the added goal of looking for a couple of places to call a “base” in 2021. Love Kate x

***Here is what some OTHER global Nomads say about how this year impacted their gallivanting lifestyle around the world. All of these amazing folk below have contributed to my latest book to offer their take on being #LocationFree.

* My global nomadship is NOT over yet! Dee Before COVID-19 stopped us all in our tracks, I had been already considering my global footprint and thinking about how I could still travel and work as a nomad, but with more and more respect for the environment by reducing my use of fossil fuels.

Since being “stuck” at my daughter’s house since March 1st, I have had more time to contemplate my next move, and I think I will be much more mindful about the “gigs” I say yes to in terms of length. Instead of jumping from plane to plane and delivering multiple workshops or events in one week, I will spaciously alter my availability and only offer one city a week for short jobs. In addition, I’m considering “putting myself out to hire” to communities for 3-6 month, longer-term projects.

As for this crazy year, I have still felt like a “nomad” because most of my international work has continued online, but I’ve been receiving some “snail mail” at my daughter’s address where I’m staying, and I don’t like it. My daughter and friends tease me, saying, “ooh, look, you have mail!” which I vehemently deny! Haha!

I did join a gym in my daughter’s town but, I made sure it was one of the franchise-type ones that proliferate Australia so that when I’m back on the road, I can still make use of the membership.

I still live out of my suitcase. It’s on a shelf, in the cupboard, in my daughter’s spare room, and I have deliberately done very little extra shopping this year and still buy my suitcase-sized “top-ups.” All my purchases have still been with the thought that I will eventually be back on the road.

As of December 2020, bookings for work in early 2021 have started rolling in, and I’m feeling the pullback towards the actual road (not flights) that will most likely be my future for at least the next 12 months until our international borders and flights are safe again. My global nomadship is not over yet!Yours in Community, Dee

Dee Brooks is a mum of four adults and is a passionate community development practitioner and trainer with over 20 years of experience. She has been an Intentional Nomad since 2015 and has travelled and worked in over 20 countries, creating impact through capacity building and knowledge sharing. http://jeder.com.au

*What is COVID offering US in terms of new perspectives? Martin When Covid struck, all my jobs and activities came to quite an abrupt halt. But organically, other things suddenly needed to be done. My life in a nutshell… Go with the flow, take things as they come, and run with it as best you can.

Pre-Covid, I was housesitting, hiking, travel guiding, and occasionally giving sushi workshops. When all that stopped, for my dad, who lives alone, all his support and social engagements/contacts were terminated as well. So I kind of organically transitioned into being his only daily visitor and part-time caregiver. A foundation I occasionally volunteer at was seeing a huge dip in the (mostly 55+ aged) volunteer availability, so my “whenever I can, I’ll let you know” volunteering turned into a fixed few days a week. With the rest of the time, I worked on my campervan conversion, which I was not really getting around to before Covid. So you could say that just as in life, Covid took but replaced other things in its place for me to make a difference… And no less important, it also gave me space to remember what I was passionate about and the time to work on it as well.

Looking forward, my future perspective has not changed much with Covid. I will keep living as a nomad, primarily housesitting going from place to place, alternated with some hiking travel guiding and volunteering here and there, and being a self-supporting van-lifer the rest of the time. What Covid did do, however, is make me realize how positive and stable this self-supportive lifestyle made me, as when mass-hysteria struck, I accepted it as it came and just took it in my stride.

To me, the best way to approach the whole Covid-situation is to look at what it is offering in terms of new perspectives, rethinking priorities and time away from work, commuting, and stress in favor of me-time. It is pretty much nailed on the head by this little quote by Karen Salmansohn:

You gotta look for the good in the bad, the happy in the sad, the gain in your pain, what makes you grateful, not hateful. And if there is no good in the bad, or happy in the sad, then you are put in that spot right there, right then, to help create it for yourself and the people around you… May you be happy and well, Martin Martin Van Den Berg is a full-time professional housesitter, capable with all animals but specialising in big or “difficult” dogs and packs. Willing to travel. dutch.mountainman@gmail.com       https://www.facebook.com/martinvdberg73


* Will we resume nomadic life? Nancy It was sheer coincidence that we moved into a long-term rental the day that Spain went into lockdown! A day later and we would have needed approval from the police to move, to drive elsewhere other than to the supermarket for essential supplies. My unexpected pulmonary embolism in April 2019 had stopped our travels and, due to ongoing medical treatment, necessitated us staying in Oliva for a while. As we liked it here, at the end of that year, totally unrelated to the pandemic, we decided to stay in the area longer and, in January 2020, found a new home near the sea.

Even if we had booked another Air B&B, ready to travel again, it’s unlikely we’d have been able to. As a new tenant hadn’t been secured for the townhouse we’d been renting, we would have had to stay there longer. This would have been so frustrating! I was always excited when moving-on and to have no choice but to stay would have been very hard. Instead, we could look forward to our new home close to the beach!

My online work continued despite the pandemic, and my weekdays didn’t really alter as I sat at the computer in my home-office as usual. The virus situation has definitely changed our nomadic mindset, though, and now I’m not even sure if we’ll resume our journey!

The pandemic in Europe and ever-changing border restrictions make it difficult to travel, so for now, we’ve accepted it’s necessary to stay-put. Instead of looking forward to exploring new places, we appreciate the opportunity and extra time available to visit our own area, which is very varied and beautiful. We’ve also made some friends here and, in a time when we cannot easily see family in the UK, these relationships are all the more important.

As we’ve not had to pack-up the car to move-on in a single journey, we’ve also gradually acquired more possessions and are making our current rental a ‘home.’ The more we become settled, putting down roots, it’s so much harder to consider moving away. Maybe one day we’ll revise our wanderlust, maybe not. Perhaps we’ll take holidays again instead. We’re just not dwelling on that.

Although we’ve always had a flexible attitude, this year has taught-us that absolutely anything unexpected can happen! We’re OK, and we have each other, our health, an income, and a home, so do appreciate this as never before. Kind regards, Nancy Nancy Benn is a versatile virtual assistant with more than ten years’ experience providing efficient support to clients. Working remotely from her home office, Nancy helps entrepreneurs achieve more time and headspace to develop their business by supporting and encouraging their endeavours by providing outstanding, skilled admin and secretarial support. www.directpaservices.co.uk         
www.nancybenn.com


*Coincidence doesn’t exist. I always believed that! Jan What happened to this digital nomad during the Covid pandemic? I guess the same as with all the others: being stuck in one place and not moving anymore. In my case, I’m stuck in Budapest in Hungary. Coincidentally, as a Dutch citizen, I already had a house in Hungary, and I am a resident in this country. Something that, after the fact, turns out to be a good thing. I will explain, and this explanation shows once more, that coincidence doesn’t exist. It was for a reason that I got stuck here.

In February 2019, I left the Netherlands and started my digital nomad existence. South America, Spain, and South Africa. In April 2020, I ended up in a very strict lockdown in South Africa, and after three tough weeks, I was finally able to return to the Netherlands on a repatriation flight. From The Netherlands, I flew immediately to my home in eastern Hungary. It was a safe haven in these bizarre times. It was also far removed from covid, with only 2 cases known out of the 3 000 inhabitants in the village.

After a few weeks of being in Hungary, a letter fell on the mat from the Dutch authorities. They stated that with retroactive effect to February 2019 (!) I was no longer officially living in the Netherlands, that I was not allowed to continue my business there and that I was no longer insured for medical expenses.

Pay attention! With more than one year retroactive effect!

Panic! What’s next? At that time, there was only one option: I would have to live 100% as a resident in Hungary and build a new company structure with two limited companies: one in the Netherlands containing all the customers and one in Hungary where I am an employee. Subsequently, I was accepted into the Hungarian health insurance system (which is cheap, but not the world’s best) and a perfect private health insurance top-up that will enable me to be anywhere in the world and still have good insurance!

All of this turned out to be a golden solution for me as a nomad. The taxes in Hungary are the lowest in Europe, and even after my retirement in some years, the 0% income tax is Europe’s best! I am currently renting an apartment in the heart of downtown Budapest, and at the weekends I visit my house in the countryside to relax. This is truly the ideal “snob-life’ of all the Budapest-inhabitants!

Coincidence doesn’t exist. I never believed in that. But all these puzzle pieces came together so precisely into one nice new picture. So with all that happened to me, I have to admit: coincidences might just exist!

While I am stuck in Hungary for now, I spend ALL my time preparing for the future! Jan

Jan Van Kuijk has been living partly in the Netherlands and partly in Hungary for more than 10 years. The two countries finally became too small for him, and in 2018, after 15 years of preparation, he decided to travel the world as a Digital Nomad. With his work on WordPress and Joomla websites, he is generating sufficient income to live his dream. https://digitalnomadlifestyle.nl      https://janvankuijk.nl


*Cruising (or not) with Covid – Debbie Well, it’s been an interesting couple of months – thank you, 2020!

From being aboard ‘that ship’ which was disallowed docking in Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Panama, Costa Rica, and Mexico, to finally disembarking our guests in San Diego, after 29 days onboard! Our guests got an additional 15 days cruising on the house, and of course, courtesy of corona!

Then, many of us got ill and had to deal with “isolationship,” which in itself added a new dimension to both cruise life, as well and levels of sanity and productivity! Getting the South African crew repatriated back to our own country was another covid challenge, but we finally made it to home soil in June, three months after the break-out onboard our floating home. At this stage, a total of 60 days of “isolationship” had been achieved, and it is no small feat to spending that amount of time on your own in a room that is hard to pace 10 steps without having to stop dead!

Since then, the waiting to return to what we love has taken its toll in various forms, forcing many to find alternative employment sources. I have kept myself busy by doing some ‘self-reflection and tweaking,’ a vital step to recalibrating and accessing what makes it out of the covid crisis with you and what needs to be resolved and rested!

I have decided to study a diploma in HR to be better equipped in my line of work and where I see myself adding relevance; making memories with my family, and building a legacy in my gorgeous granddaughter’s life while watching the world continue to be crazed about vaccines and searching for new normals!

Living life #LocationFree post-covid will have its own set of challenges, but I am hopeful that we will be traveling and impacting more lives in the near future! Remember at this time, to be kind – to those who don’t understand or think the way you do, and it’s OK to be different – after all, that’s what it takes to live #LocationFree. Love Debbie

Debbie Botha courageously leapt at the chance to travel and showcase her training development, coaching, negotiation, and change- management skills within the world of cruising. She now wears officer stripes on her shoulders and a smile on her face as she explores international waters is studying HR, dabbles in Bitcoin, and revels in being a nurturing Nana. linkedin.com/in/debbiebothaglobal        Instagram: @debbiebothaofficial


*Life Has Shifted A Little – Chris and Jillian We had moved places in Morocco a few times. We had decided that we needed our own space after two and a half months in the hostel we were painting in, and we moved into an apartment in Tinghir. Shortly after we moved into our new place, the lockdown was lifted. And even though we were some of the only foreigners around, we weren’t being hassled too much to come and buy things.

We moved out to Rissani after two weeks, which was located at the edge of the Sahara. The roads were now just starting to open up for people to move between towns and cities. After a few weeks there, we read a news headline saying that all foreigners had to leave Morocco by August 10th. We then decided that we wanted to spend some time on the coast, so off we went to Essaouira.

We ended up renting an Airbnb for a really good discounted price inside the medina. There were still very few tourists around, and we were getting hassled by more people to come and buy things. We had booked a flight to leave on the 8th, and a few days before the day, the flight was canceled. We then read more information about needing to leave and found out that it was fake news and didn’t need to go.

We rented the place for two more months, and it was nice to have our own space and work on our own projects. The owner of the Airbnb had upgraded the wifi to accommodate our needs, and we accomplished a lot of much needed online work. The locals’ mood had dropped, and eventually, we had started to see drunk people in the day fist fighting at random times. This was not normal, so we felt that it was time to go.

We booked a direct flight to Turkey, and we travelled to Casablanca to exit the country. There were not many people in the airport, which made the experience one of the easiest times we’ve had travelling. We were told that we would expect to get tested for Covid when we arrived at the airport, this didn’t happen. We were also told that we would expect to get tested when we arrived in Turkey, this didn’t happen either. Turkey was open, and everything was business as usual. In the last two weeks here, the Turkish government has started implementing some restrictions. Restaurants are closed except for takeout, a weeknight curfew of 8:00, and everything except grocery stores are closed over the weekends.

We have no doubt in our minds that this is the only way we can live our lives. Travel has probably changed forever due to Covid, but we will deal with it. We won’t be returning to conventional life, and we find too much happiness in this way of life

Chris de Cap I’ve been an artist my whole life, more than half of which as a tattoo artist. I spent the bulk of my adult life being nomadic, however, mostly in Canada. Now I’ve taken my nomadic habits out into the world. http://www.artisticvoyages.com/        www.instagram.com/artisticvoyages

*Clearing the decks and learning what it means to be resilient I feel like 2020 is the year that we were all forced to stop, take a deep breath, and look at how we are living. The word that kept coming up for me this year was resilience.

Here in Spain, we experienced one of the strictest lockdowns in Europe and in a city like Malaga where we are used to being active and social life quickly started to feel a little surreal. I remember saying to friends that it felt like I was living in a Netflix movie. Deserted streets, no noise or energy.

There is a thriving community of entrepreneurs and freelancers in the city and I organise a co-working meet-up. I remember our last in-person event just before the lockdown happened. I don’t think anyone realised just what was coming! After that, we took the meet-ups online like many events and it proved a great way to stay connected and motivated when we weren’t able to meet up in person. I launched my first retreat in October at an amazing venue called Vega House. This was one of my big goals for 2020 and after nearly a year of putting things on hold, I was determined to make it happen.

I have experienced lots of personal and professional shifts this year and it feels like it has been a bit of a baptism of fire. I know I have learned to be more present in how I live. I have become much more conscious of time and not wasting it this year. This has affected my relationships, friendships and priorities as a whole.

I had planned to do more international travel this year and instead found that there was so much more on my doorstep than I had realised to explore and appreciate. Slowing down and living with restrictions has helped me and I am sure others to find joy in unexpected places. I think I am going into 2021 with a renewed sense of optimism around what is possible for me. I am focusing on staying grounded and appreciating the here and now.

Victoria Jane Watson is a business and media mentor working with female entrepreneurs leading the way in the health and wellness industry. She gets to the heart of what makes her clients unique, showing them how to leverage their story and expertise effectively so they can build a personal brand that supports their business goals. www.victoriajanewatson.com   Instagram: @victoriajanewatson

“10 Lessons for Living #LocationFree” is available on all Amazon stores

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  #LocationFree – How are global nomads coping with their wanderlust lifestyle? was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

[sacredlettersspn]

Letter #1: Fear (Pilot, 1x01)

Welcome to the first letter of The Sacred Letters of Supernatural. I’m glad to have you here with me on this journey. I want to take a moment to say thank you to those who have already shown their support for the project on Tumblr and Twitter. You gave this project the kickstart it needed to get off the ground. And for those who will be jumping on board now and in the future, thank you. 

I also want to thank the people over at Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, the podcast which inspired this project. I hope to take the inspiration and love for Harry Potter that you show through your podcasts and channel that into my love for the show Supernatural. I also hope to take this project and make it my own while learning from the work put into Harry Potter and the Sacred Text. 

As I begin my work on this project, I find myself wishing I had a text to hold. There is something special about holding a book in your hands as you read from it, something about feeling the physical object in my hands helps me learn. But Supernatural is primarily a visual and auditory experience and I think there’s something special about that, too. We can see more details, see how characters react in body language and tone of voice. The set design, lighting, and color choices can clue us into what’s happening on screen. We don’t get internal dialogue or exposition of a character’s introspection on television, but I think many of the visual and auditory aspects make up for that. 

So with that being said, let’s begin the first Sacred Letter of Supernatural.

I want to start with a personal story. When I was a young child, I did not like Chinese food. I wouldn’t eat it. When my dad tried to convince me to try Chinese food as a child, it would usually result in tears. It wasn’t until years later as an adult that I learned that when I was about four years old, I had Chinese food for dinner and a stomach bug the same evening. You maybe can see where this is going? My parents’ bed sheets were ruined, let’s just say that. But that moment, the feeling of that memory, stayed with me many years even though I couldn’t remember the actual incident. This aversion was something my dad didn’t understand. I remember very vividly sitting in a Chinese buffet with my plain chicken, french fries, and a few vegetables. My dad is trying to make me try various different foods. I keep saying no and become so upset at the pressure to “just get over it,” I cry in the restaurant. To my dad, Chinese food was just chicken or pork with noodles, rice, and vegetables. It was delicious. To me, Chinese food was the reason I had become violently ill, and my body couldn’t forget that. The body’s memory of fear can be a powerful force in our day-to-day lives.

By now, you may have guessed our theme for today’s letter: fear. The Merriam Webster dictionary defines fear as “an unpleasant, often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger.” I also like the definition given by Google which defines fear as “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.” I like how the second definition highlights the idea that fear is tied to our own beliefs that something is dangerous. This says to me that some people can believe that something is scary and experience fear, while others do not see the same danger. Like in my story about having this fear of Chinese food, I expected it to be dangerous while those around me did not. They couldn’t understand my fear. 

But I think we can understand the fear that’s happening in the pilot episode of Supernatural. For the fandom, this episode is iconic. We will likely never forget the visuals and lines of dialogue, many of which are echoed in episodes fifteen years later, but I’ll still give you a quick recap of what happens in this episode. 

The year is 1982, and we are introduced to the Winchester family on the night that their mother, Mary Winchester, dies. She is murdered by a mysterious figure who breaks into baby Sam’s nursery. When Mary goes to check on Sam, she interrupts this figure and is attacked. We see some of the ordeal, most poignantly the image of her stuck to the ceiling, stomach cut, and flames igniting around her. Her husband, John Winchester, sees her on the ceiling as well. John knows something is not normal about the way she dies. 

When we fast forward twenty-two years, Sam has been in college and is living with his girlfriend. He seems to be enjoying life. But he hasn’t talked to his family in four years. Unexpectedly, Dean shows up, tells him that their father is missing on a hunting trip, and Sam agrees to help Dean find their father. To track his whereabouts, they listen to a voicemail in which John says something bigger is happening, something dangerous. 

On the search for their father, they are led to a potential haunting where several men have been reported missing on a stretch of highway over the years. John had been on the case before he disappeared. The boys find out which motel John was staying at and find his room, but are caught by police and Dean is arrested. However, they are able to figure out that the ghost they’re hunting is a Woman in White and Dean’s arrest leads them to John’s journal where John has recorded everything he knows about the supernatural. 

The boys end up getting rid of the Woman in White, and they find out where John wants them to go next. However, Sam insists on being back home for his law school interview the next morning, so Dean takes him home. When Sam goes inside, he lays down in bed, looks up, and finds Jessica on the ceiling like his mom. The ceiling catches on fire around her. She can’t be saved. The episode ends with Sam and Dean outside of their car, the 1967 Impala. Sam says, “We got work to do,” before slamming the trunk full of hunting supplies shut and leaving with Dean for the next case.

Moments of fear are littered throughout this pilot. Given that the genre of the show involves ghosts, monsters, and demons, it makes sense that fear would be an integral part of each episode. But I want to focus on a key scene of this episode and how fear plays a special role in defining the Winchesters’ lives.

The opening scene of the Winchester family tucking in for the night is heartwarming. Everyone smiles at least once, John and Mary are doting on their children, John appears to be an involved, helpful father as he helps tuck the boys in for the night. There is a lot of focus on Sam. We get this shot of just Sam in his crib, laughing, playing with his feet, a shot of Mary kissing him goodnight, and a shot of John specifically saying, “Sweet Dreams, Sammy.” It sets up an expectation that Sam is the main focus, if not the main character, and it adds to the sweet feeling I get while watching this scene. 

But there are hints that something isn’t right. The opening scene of this episode is an exterior shot of the house at night with shadows of tree limbs crawling up the side of the home. The limbs are moving unnaturally. There’s suspenseful music playing. You know something is wrong and your fears are confirmed when the mobile in Sam’s nursery begins moving on its own, the clock stops at 8:12pm, the nightlight flickers, and the baby monitor in the parents’ room makes odd, high frequency noises. When Mary wakes up, John is not in the room. Mary sees John standing in Sam’s nursery, with more lights flickering in the hall. While Mary does not seem to be afraid, the viewer by now knows that she should be afraid. And that moment comes soon enough when she hears the tv on downstairs, and sees John asleep in a chair. She runs back upstairs to Sam with who she now knows is an intruder. We don’t see what happens between Mary and this mysterious figure, but we hear the screams and we see what happens next. John runs upstairs, finds Sam alone in the crib, and thinks everything is fine until he notices the blood dripping from the ceiling. That’s when he looks up, sees his wife on the ceiling, a slash across her stomach. He falls to the ground, looking up at the ceiling with horror as fire bursts around his wife and Sam begins to wail.

What strikes me about this whole first scene is how much we don’t see, and we can only notice what’s missing after having watched this show for its many seasons. We don’t see what happens to Sam, so we don’t know the reason for the man visiting his nursery. We don’t see Mary’s interaction with this man. John doesn’t even see the man. He only sees his wife on the ceiling, dying. And that’s why this scene is so horrifying to me. It turns the world of the Winchesters upside down, ruins every good thing we saw in their warm, family interactions, and it leaves us with many more questions than answers. 

The reason the scene works as being scary is because it leaves much unknown, and fear festers in the unknown. It seems that some of the most scary moments in life are when big, important questions are left unanswered. When you’re at the doctors waiting on potentially bad news, when your life plans are derailed because you didn’t get that job or that person left you, or when you see horrendous acts of violence on the news and you can’t fathom why humans would treat each other this way. When we are left to grapple with life’s big, important questions without anyone who can give us definitive answers, it can be terrifying. 

I believe the person who is trying to handle the biggest questions in this episode is John Winchester. He sees and remembers the most from the night Mary died, and therefore he has the most questions and a lot of weight to carry. Sam will never remember this night and Dean was too young to realize what was happening. None of them saw Mary on the ceiling except John, and he alone carries that image, that burden. John had just experienced an unspeakable tragedy. 

The thing with tragedies is that even though they can often be explained in some way, humans still have a hard time grappling with the aftermath. While some may move on, many others become stuck in grief for extended periods of time, possibly for the rest of their lives. This is what happened to John. He didn’t have a “natural tragedy” to deal with; there was no hope for a natural explanation. And now, the world was no longer safe to him. There were new, unexplainable threats that could take his family away from him at any moment. I can imagine he felt alone in his knowledge of these threats and I can imagine that he felt completely powerless in that situation. That feeling of powerlessness, coupled with fear of the unknown, can make humans do dramatic, unhealthy things. John Winchester was no different.

A sense of control is really important for humans. We all need to feel that on some level that we are able to choose a direction for our lives, and that our choices will directly affect our environment. So, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that John’s actions after this night were an attempt to regain control after an event that shook his foundation. Thinking about John in this way helps me see his actions in the rest of the series as his way of trying to gain back a sense of control in his world. He wants to control the thing that scares him, much like I think we eventually see Dean doing. John’s fear led him to do many things that the fandom has deemed unforgivable. Whether or not you sympathize with John Winchester is entirely up to you and is influenced by your own personal experiences, but I think we can all relate to the feeling of fear in the face of the unknown, and the utter powerlessness we can feel in uncertain times. 

Lectio Divina 

The next segment of this letter is where we use a practice to analyze a part of the episode. We will be using “Lectio Divina,” a Christian spiritual practice for reading scriptures that involves interacting with the text on four different levels. I am following Harry Potter and the Sacred Text’s use of this practice and adapting it the best I can to the visual format. Normally, you pick a scripture or a line of text to analyze. I randomized numbers between 1 and 42 (the amount of minutes in the episode), and picked the first full line after the minute mark I was given.

Line: “That’s cus you’re out of practice… Or not.” -Dean Winchester (7:00)

Now we analyze this line on the four levels of Lectio Divina : literal (narrative), allegorical (metaphors and symbols), reflection (how do I connect to it), and invitational (what is the text asking of us or teaching us). 

Literal: What’s happening on a literal level in this scene is that Dean has broken into Sam’s house, Sam has snuck up on him, and they’ve just fought because Sam didn’t know who was in his house. Dean ends up pinning Sam to the floor, saying that he was able to do so because Sam was out of practice. “That’s cus you’re out of practice.” But when Sam promptly flips him over, pinning Dean to the ground, Dean proudly but surprisingly says, “Or not.” The scene comes across as a little heartwarming, a little funny. The two seem like natural brothers.

Allegorical: To me, this is a scene about returning. Here we have the loyal child who has stayed with his father and continued the “family business” confronting what I think of as the prodigal son. You can see the tension between the brothers play out in the fighting. But this prodigal son story is not the same one that we’re used to. This isn’t the prodigal son coming back home because he realized he was wrong. Sam left something horrifying. He left for safety and found love, a career, and independence. But despite his reasons for leaving, there’s still tension when he returns. Stepping away from your family, a friend group, a job--that’s never easy even if you have strong convictions about your reasons for doing so. There are relationships there, shared experiences, and bonds. So, I think there’s a sense of betrayal from Dean’s perspective, an invisible contract that Sam broke. Then Sam and Dean have to confront all of these feelings and experiences again. I'm impressed with the way Sam and Dean handle it. Dean could have grilled Sam about why he left, made him feel bad, or approached with a hostile attitude, but he very much is happy to see Sam and wants his help. Sam ends up helping Dean even when there’s a possibility of Sam confronting his father, and Dean risks being rejected to ask for Sam’s help. They’re each risking the status quo of their lives and making themselves vulnerable to one another by reaching out and deciding to take on this task together.

Reflection: Watching this exchange between the two of them, it reminded me of when I used to play soccer as a kid. I played for about four or five years and like to think I developed a few skills. One year recently, I was playing soccer with my younger siblings on Father’s Day and I could tell that I was out of practice, but dribbling, kicking, stopping the ball -- those movements still felt natural. I was even able to give pointers to the kids. I hadn’t touched a soccer ball in years, but that knowledge is still stored in my brain.

I think that, in the same way, Sam was forced to play out his own muscle memory while fighting with Dean, and through that, is forced to acknowledge once again the reality of his childhood and his family, of what lives in the dark and why he ran. In one fell swoop, Dean shoves that all into the forefront for Sam. A few years of building walls of safety around him and now Sam is vulnerable again, using his fighting skills to protect himself when I imagine he had begun to settle into a “normal” life. 

Invitational: There’s a question that jumps out at me after spending time contemplating this scene: how do you have the courage to confront burned bridges with other people? I don’t have a clear-cut answer but I think it takes some courage and understanding on both sides. There should be a realization from both parties that each person assumes some responsibility for what happened between them, and for this to happen, there needs to be a cool-down period and opportunity for forgiveness. Forgiveness is rarely easy. I can think of situations in my own life in which forgiveness seems impossible, and maybe it isn’t always an option. But for those situations in which time can heal, I think repairing a burnt bridge can be worth the effort. I see this play out between Sam and Dean. Dean has to overlook his feelings of abandonment by Sam, see the decision from Sam’s perspective, and practice some forgiveness. Sam has to have hope that he will be accepted by his family again and courage to face the people who feel hurt by his actions. I think there would be a lot of fear on both sides: fear of another fight, fear of rejection. But Sam and Dean are able to put aside their own fears and their own hurts for the sake of family and the bond they share. So maybe one thing this scene is asking us to do is to practice forgiveness despite our fears.

Thank you all for reading the first ever Sacred Letter of Supernatural. I hope you enjoyed our exploration of the theme this week. Before I finish this letter, I would like to end with a question for the audience. This question is for personal evaluation, but if you would like for your answer to be featured on the blog or to contribute to a discussion, please send your answers to my Tumblr inbox.

This Week’s Question:

How do you recognize when you’re afraid and how do you make decisions in the face of fear?

[nikkisnonsense-blog1]

To Myself... Three Months Ago

Dear Nikki,

Hey girl, I come to you not bearing the greatest of news. These next few months are going to be some of the hardest of your life so far. I really hate to be the one to tell you this but I feel like we’re close enough that we can be honest with each other. Well I’m not gonna waste anymore time because there’s a lot I need to get you up to speed on. Let’s make this a list of 8 things for organization sake.

      1. The musical you’ve been directing for the past few months will not be happening

You and your friend/ music director, Joe have been wearing out the phrase “I can’t believe the show is happening!” for the past few months. Sadly, that’s not the case. Sure, sometimes you wanted to rip your hair out due to frustration or cried in your car because you didn’t think you were doing a good enough job. But underneath it all, I know you had put more work into this show than you have for anything else in your life. You knew the possibility of the show being canceled was there but it was only something that you joked about in rehearsal with your cast. It could never become a reality. The day you find out, you won’t cry much. Which is weird. If anything you don’t feel much at all. The next day your cast will do an amazing concert style performance of the show instead which people will rave to you about and it genuinely makes you feel good for a moment. But it isn’t until after that’s over that it actually begins to set in. When everyone else starts to move on You’ll stare at the box of props that sits in your kitchen for months and feel a weird form of uneasiness. You were told by everyone that any frustration you feel would be worth it when the curtain opens. But what do you do when the curtain never opens? You’re forced to sit with the disappointment and sadness of an unfinished project. You think about all of the fun things you would have gotten to do with your cast and crew and how proud of yourself you would have been after the shows. That’s when you cry.

      2. The second half of your last college semester will be taken away

Besides the Musical, you will also be missing out on plenty of other events at school.  Your spring concert, trip to NYC, your roommate’s senior art show, your girlfriend’s comedy show, any theatre in the area, drunken nights with your friends, and most importantly, Graduation. Ah yes, the very thing that your entire life has been waiting on. At least that’s how it feels. You remember when you were little and traveled to upstate New York and Boston for your cousins’ graduations and how big of a deal they were. Or watching your parents tear up at your sister’s graduation. Not having been the best student in school, you were shocked you even made it this far. A day that was going to be a monumental experience for you and so many others has just been pushed to a further date. Like a dentist appointment. That day hurts the most. When I tell my parents how upset I am, they assure me “You’ll still have a graduation!” but you know it won’t be the same. You get mad at the world because of it and feel like stomping your feet on the ground and yelling “It’s not fair!” like a child. But you know that wouldn’t do any good.

       3. You’re going to gain weight

As someone who has had body images their whole life, I know this sounds like an absolute nightmare. And it kind of is. It’s kind of inevitable wen you can’t leave your house anymore, you rely on Door Dash a little too much, The gym is closed, and you really have no motivation to do anything. Stretch marks will appear in new places, shirts that once fit perfectly will be snug, and certain clothes you used to feels sexy in, just make you feel like a fool. It’s so important to remind yourself that your body is changing because your lifestyle is changing. It’s going to drive you wild for a while but I promise you it is not the end of the world. Also your girlfriend assures you she still finds you beautiful in any state. 

       4.  You move back in with your parents

You’re fortunate enough to have the last 2 months in your apartment to quarantine with your roommates and your girlfriend which is like a weird stretch of time where there are no rules and you feel like a Sim without a task. Then before you know it, your lease is up and your parents come up and help move you out of your apartment. Now I know you’re thinking that sounds like a nightmare but living with Mom and Dad is not as awful as you imagined. They treat you like an adult, give you your space, and dad only makes you watch one video he finds online a day as opposed to his usual 5. Theres also a bulk size container of cheese sticks from Costco so you decide this place isn’t too bad. Moving home is surprisingly the best you’ve felt all year. Your mental health is getting better which is a god sent considering how miserable you’ve been. So there is a silver lining

     5. Finding work is IMPOSSIBLE

You’ll find yourself comparing yourself to when your sister finished college and found work and an apartment almost immediately. Even though she’s in a different field and graduated 3 years ago when the world was a much different place, you still compare yourself. Indeed and Ziprecruiter become your best friends but they clearly don’t like you back very much because your responses are limited. The closest you get to a job is an insurance agency that would offer you $65,000- $85,000 a year. Maybe it’s just the Jew in you, but those numbers got you very excited, so you apply. They decide they’re interested in you and schedule you for a virtual interview. You’ve also read the job description 100 times and still have no god damn idea what you would be doing. During the Interview, the man asks you if you have any doubts and you say “maybe a few due to my lack of experience” but in your head you’re thinking “What the fuck am I doing. I have a degree in Theatre and I’m trying to get a job selling insurance. Would this job even make me the tiniest bit happy besides the paycheck?” The man tells you that he would like to offer you the job to which you graciously say thank you.  As soon as you hang up the zoom call, you immediately burst into tears. Frustrated and sad that the only job you have gotten close to is one you don’t even want. The jobs you do want, in the arts and media, are not hiring right now and if they are it’s for people with 5+ years of experience. You’ve applied to over 50 jobs at this point and the only ones that have gotten back to you sound dreadful. You learn that no paycheck is worth a lifetime of sadness. You email the man back saying thank you, but you cannot accept the job.

    6. The world is full of awful people

This may seem like an exaggeration at first especially because I- uh I mean you, are generally a pretty optimistic person. You may have severe depression, but you still usually see the glass half full. But even the blindest of optimists can’t deny the world looks pretty shit right now. Besides the pandemic, Black people are being murdered left and right by police for no reason. Something that certainly isn’t a new phenomenon but has now been amplified to new heights and has brought out the rage in people. You do what you can to help in these times. Protesting, donating, sharing online, signing petitions but it never feels like enough. You will continue to raise your voice about Black Lives Mattering and hope for change. Acknowledging your white privilege and trying to listen to the voices of others. As much as you personally try to help out, you end up seeing the ugly that comes out as well. Especially in your 92.9% white small town. 

    7. Pride will be different this year

The yearly celebration of going to Pride in Philadelphia with rainbow shadow on your eyes, glitter in your hair, and a water bottle full of vodka and gatorade have now been replace with anger and a yearning for justice. The LGBT community would be nothing without Black activists backing it. The Stonewall Riots were led by a Black Trans Woman. So you do your part to amplify black voices as a part of pride. Because right now is not the time to take shots and dance to Whitney Houston.

    8. You’re not the only one feeling this way

Even though life is a bit of a shit show right now, it’s so important to remind yourself that you are not the only one experiencing these things. None of your friends know what the hell they’re doing either.  Everyone is just scared shitless of the state of the world and is trying their best. Please take some of the pressure off yourself. You are only a person and it’s unrealistic to put these standards on yourself. The world today is a completely different world than it was 3 months ago. As for the months to come, I have absolutely no idea what to expect. You’d have to ask 6 months from now Nikki but I haven’t met her yet. The world will not be the same as it was before but I promise you, there is a new normal somewhere beyond the horizon. 

Take care of yourself,

Present Day Nikki

Ps. You are going to adopt a baby tortoise named Harley and he will be the light of your life. He will make life just a bit more bearable.

Pss. 

Here are links to help the Black Lives Matter movement

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #249

“every wall that i knock down is just a wall that i’ll replace.”

Has anyone done anything nice for you today? Nothing in particular. The last time you hung out with your sibling(s), what did you do? We visited our mom in the hospital. Fun. Have you ever been so lonely, you cried? Oh, plenty of times. Have you ever given homeless people money? No, not that I've ever really had money to give. Do you usually bring or buy a lunch for school? I absolutely never buy from the cafe, I'll tell you that much. The price is fucking ridiculous; it's a standard number regardless of how little or how much you eat. Fucking $8 or so for a goddamn hot dog or something. I always either pack something or Mom and I drive over to McDonald's. Does it bug you when you want something done, and it doesn’t get done? Ugh, yes. Have you ever tried so hard to save up for something, but it was too hard? I don’t think so, no. I've rarely been in a position where I'm saving up for something because I rarely have any money on me. The last time you had sex, was it in their bed or yours? Hell if I remember. What was the last pill you took? One of my morning meds for my mood. If you were to have sex right now, would you use a condom? Yes. What’s your sexuality? Have you ever questioned it? How old were you when you figured out you were definitely straight, or bi, or whatever? I'm bi, though I grew up believing I was straight. I became definitely sure in '17. Do you fit in at work or in school? I don't care enough to think about this. Were you ever a fan of macaroni & cheese? Do you like Kraft dinner? BITCH yes that's my shit. Is there a laundry basket in your room? If yes, what color is it? Not currently, but all of ours are white. Have you ever read a book all the way through in one day? Not like, a big book. What would you do if you found out your last ex is engaged? Be very confused. Do you get along with your significant other’s family? N/A, but for anyone I've ever been with where I knew the family, we got along fine. Have you ever gone horseback riding? Where? Not really, just at like, fairs. Have you ever cried at a real wedding? Yes, but it was due to PTSD more than anything else. Who was the last person to be on a bed with you? Well I sat with Mom on her hospital bed. What were you afraid of the most when you were a kid? Thunderstorms or being separated from Mom. Depends on the age. Do you know how it feels to be cheated on? No. Do you have feelings for someone right now? How strong are those feelings? And does that person have feelings for you, too? Yes; "controlled" is the best way to put it ig; and idk. Who’s the last person that told you they loved you? My mom. Where was your Facebook default picture taken? The living room. What’s your brother(s)/sister(s) names? Misty, Katie, Bobby, Ashley, and Nicole. Do you like to cuddle? Yeah, if I like and am comfortable with that person. Are you currently reading a book? Yeah, amazingly. What’s on your mind? Way too goddamn much. Does any part on your body hurt? Not right now. Do you have nightmares a lot? I have nightmares/terrors on an almost nightly basis (I wish I was exaggerating) by now and it's fucking old. Who was the last person you texted? Sara. Think a lot before you fall asleep? It consistently takes me at least 20+ minutes to go to sleep because my brain doesn't shut up. What’s your favorite thing to have on your bed? MY CAT Where did you get the shirt you are wearing? Probaby like Wal-Mart. It's just a tank top. Last people you went to the mall with? Uhhhhh my mom and my sister I think. Are there any stressful situations in your life? Mom's cancer diagnosis is going to be my end in the stress department. Do you go to the bathroom with the door open or closed? Depends on where I am/who else is present. Where did you get your last bruise/cut from? Roman was playing a bit too rough with my hand. Did you cry at all today? No. Who was the last person you hugged? Mom. What is the last gift someone got you? A gift card to either Dairy Queen or Sonic, can't remember which. Is anyone on your bad side right now? No. Did you have a dream last night? A nightmare where I woke up crying/screaming that I physically couldn't kill myself for some reason I don't remember. And I remember Jesus was in there somewhere. Bro idk but it made my throat hurt like a bitch. Ready for kids? NOOOOOOOOOO and I assure you I never will be. What’s one thing you do when you’re mad? Cry, easily. Do you like where you live? No, fuck this house. Like, we *need* to move. How often do you lose your voice? Extremely rarely. I have to be sick as hell. Are you a good babysitter? I don't think so. How’s your mood? Sad, pretty lifeless. Do you have a job? No. Ever thrown up in a car? No. Is anyone over protective over you? *Over*protective, no. Have you ever violated school dress code? In high school, apparently, because I got in trouble for a shirt once that I'd worn many many times before that never caused trouble until then. If you are listening to music, is the singer male/female? Male. What (if anything) do you give up for Lent? I don't take part in Lent. I did sometimes as a Catholic kid though, but it never lasted. When you feel like giving up, how do you convince yourself not to? Like, on life? It's always the belief that I have one shot at this and can't let a few bad passing moments decide to cut it short. What was the subject of the last list you made? Grocery list that Mom wanted my input on. Do you ever get nervous before interviews / important meetings? Oh hell yes I do. Who pays for the majority of your belongings? Hi, I'm Brittany, I'm 24, and my parents pay for absolutely everything because I'm one hell of an excuse for an adult. Would you ever willingly shop in a thrift store? Dude, I love thrift shops. You can find the coolest shit. What is the most that you would ever spend on an outfit? I don't have a clue. I don't shop and never have shopped for clothes nearly frequently enough to gauge here. Is there anything you do that just outrages your parents? Mom hates when I curse excessively when I'm seriously upset. When was the last time you were embarrassed in public? How the actual fuck am I blanking here. I'm always embarrassed. I can blink "wrong" and be humiliated. Have you ever won an award you were actually proud of? Yeah, a few. What is the coolest science experiment you’ve ever done? Well, it wasn't an "experiment" per se, but dissecting a frog in the 7th grade was dope. Are you experiencing difficulties with any friends right now? No. When you apologize to someone after a fight, how do you go about saying that you are sorry? By saying sorry??? Not trying to be a smart ass, just... say sorry. I do absolutely ensure I'm sincere and do all I can for me to come across as such, but yeah. Have you ever played around with “dry ice”? No. Do you think parents are responsible for the actions of their children? To a degree. When was the last time that you corrected someone? I don’t know. When was the last time you were corrected? ^ Is there any celebrity you like to “keep up with”? There's a couple. Celebrity gossip: YAY or BOO? Ugh. Now the gossip part with celebs, I just don't care. What is the most life-changing book you have read? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. Have you had a negative impact on anyone’s life? Probably. Has anyone had a negative impact on yours? Who/why? Yes, let's not linger on it. What does marriage mean to you, specifically? My feelings towards marriage have evolved semi-recently. It was once the "happily ever after" portion of a relationship, the goal to me, but now, it's really just a wise (to some, of course) financial option for a strong, stable, tested relationship that you intend to be permanent. Like, it's a piece of paper, congrats. I'll admit my mind still somewhat sees it as a desirable milestone, but I know that's simply the works of societal conditioning. How will you know when you are ready to get married? I don't know. This actually brings to my attention that I've pondered if I'll ever *confidently* know after Jason. I really don't know. How much time have you spent contemplating your own death? I mean, not a hell of a lot, but I'm sure more than the normal person. Is there a joke that you just can’t stand? I really hate any joke that's rooted in discrimination, or is just purely hateful. Have you ever read any self-help books? No, though I've contemplated them a bit. What is something you used to love, but now greatly dislike? Country music, oh boy. What is something you used to dislike, but now like? Hmmm. Lol first thing that comes to mind is mashed potatoes, I guess. Thanks, Sara's Mom. When (if) you become a parent, what will you do differently, compared to how your parents raised you? I'm never going to be a parent. Do you equate spanking with physical abuse? Would you spank a child? I can't say I exactly equate them, no, but I absolutely disagree with it. You do not teach children through fear and pain. If your bf/gf wanted to wait until marriage for sex, would you be willing? Yeah. Is there someone you wish you could trust/you wish was trustworthy? Yes. Is there anyone that you no longer want in you life? Who/why? No one that plays a big role in my life, no. At least not off the top of my head. How has your outlook on life changed in the past few years? I've strayed further from my fairy-tale outlook of it every year for the past few. Some can call it a much more negative view, but it's realism, baby. It doesn't depress me, even though I'm sure some may see it as such. I'm more accepting to fact and less preoccupied with "it'd be nice if..."s, things like that. Have you ever walked out of a boring movie (in theaters)? No. How open are you with people you know online? Depends on the person and location something is being shared. If a celebrity is involved in scandal after scandal, is that likely to affect how you view him/her & his/her work? Of course. What is one celebrity that you have zero respect for? Man, I don't pay enough attention to this or know all "the facts" or whatever. What is one fashion trend that you hope makes a comeback? It's the Rawring 20s motherfuckers LOOK the scene style is fucking adorable let's bring that shit BACK. What is one that you wish would just die out already? Idc. Have you ever driven under the influence of alcohol/drugs? Hell no. Are you overly attached to your material possessions? Some. Have you ever ridiculed anyone for their clothing choices? I'm sure I have when I was younger, but never aloud, I'd hope. Now, I seriously don't care what you wear. Living in poverty: what do you think it’d be like? I literally am riding on the poverty line and shit's bad enough, so I don't care to find out what it's like any lower. What is one “diet” that you think is just utterly worthless? The keto diet used to seriously appeal to me, but now I totally don't get it. You're GOING to gain weight back as you switch to a regular diet again. Not just that though, keto is extremely unhealthy to the body. It's tempting because yes, it has drastic results, but it's an awful choice. What advice would you give someone that is uncomfortable with his or her body/appearance? Oh hunny me too so don't ask me. What advice would you give someone about to start high school? Don't put too much weight on the people you're involved with. Don't let your world revolve around them. "They're" right when they say half those people won't mean shit later. What foreign food are you NOT interested in trying? Honestly? I'm not educated enough on cuisines to know. I have no clue what most entail. What foreign country do you believe is misunderstood? "I’m sure they all are." <<<< Do you understand/read Shakespeare? We read some stuff in school, and for the most part, I understood it. It's not something I'd go out of my way to read now. Would you feel more comfortable living with someone that owned a gun? I don't know for sure, but actually, probably no, BUT that's only because I don't trust my impulsive ass with her suicidal history. Otherwise, I'd feel safer with a gun. Have you ever had a make-over? Not a serious one. What’s the longest time you’ve stayed out of the country? Where? I've never left the country. Name one thing you’re grateful for today. My mom being here. What is your favorite high school memory? Long bus rides home with Jason. What is the most insane thing you’ve done to/for your crush that (s)he might not/might know about? Take a plane multiple times by myself and endure airports when my muscle atrophy was at its worse probably, lmao. Name three teachers you liked in high school. Coach Collie, Mrs. Cruz, Mrs. Williams... man, I could go on for a long time. I had great teachers. Who is your best friend? Sara. What’s your favorite song right now? Probably "Hunting Grounds" by In This Moment ft. Joe Cotela. Write a line from any song. My favorite lyric from the song that's playing right now is "I fell asleep at the wheel again, crashed my car just to feel again" bc some part of me feels that shit. Do you know at least one Disney song by heart? Which one? Oh, I'm sure there's a lot, "The Circle of Life" to name just one. All TLK ones really, lol. Would you rather be a hobbit, an elf, or a dwarf? E L F What are the first five things you would splurge on if you were a billionaire? Help Mom monetarily, and then like... I'd have to fight from blowing ALL of it on tattoos lmao. Do you blow dry your hair or do you let it air out? I just let it dry naturally after using a towel. Do you blush when you receive compliments? I think so. Depends, though. Candles or incense? Incenseeeeee. Can you juggle? No. Reason behind the last time you laughed until you cried? I don't remember. Are you one who brags a lot? No. Something you love to eat or drink at the fair? I don't know any typical "fair foods" I actually like. Your favorite vegetable? Broccoli. Are you confrontational? I'm the polar opposite. I will do anything to avoid confrontation. Have you ever caught yourself talking in your sleep? That's another nightly thing now. Do you catch lizards? No, leave wild animals be. Do you like pretzels? Yeah, preferably soft ones.

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 22

AO3 link here

Harvard is, in some ways, everything Drea wanted. She’s on her way, she's gotten to this place, earned her spot: as supportive as Mom is, she would never allow herself to use whatever friends or influence she might have to get special consideration, and Drea would never want her to.

Everything is different from high school. It’s easy to find people who love learning the way she does. They’re everywhere. There are trust fund kids and legacies, of course, plenty of them, but there are also talented people who want to make the future. And all the sorts of things Rose talked gleefully about when she started college - staying up until 4 AM one night to write a paper then staying up again the next to go see a band, people being so casually passionate about this cause or that protest, sliding with your friends into your regular booth at your regular off-campus pizza place, having a regular off-campus pizza place - it’s all happening for Drea too, just like she had hoped.

In some ways it’s just as bad as she feared. Worse.

She’s gone from being one of the youngest in her class to being one of the oldest, and she feels like she should be wiser for it. She has stories to tell during icebreakers or house mixers; when called to it, she can speak honestly about the year she took off between high school and college. When it's her turn, she talks about volunteering and getting a different type of experience before coming back to the classroom. She can see that it impresses the people around her, both professors and fellow students. It makes her different and special and interesting in a way that’s acceptable.

She never talks about the parts with doctors or surgery, the relief of it and the pain. Keeping her business to herself has always been second nature, and she had thought it was something she was used to, going on with that background tension, that worry. All those years of carefully using school bathrooms and accepting rare sleepover invitations...It’s not the same as living with suitemates. She had thought that having her own room would be enough. She wasn’t prepared for the emotions of it: not being able to go home at the end of a day or maybe two, to the people who knew everything, who she didn’t have to put up walls around. Even as she makes friends and laughs with them, joins study groups, finds a favorite spot in the library, it feels as if she is more guarded than ever.

Those blending-in tricks that she taught herself still work, and she starts using them more and more. Each time she puts on a blouse instead of a T-shirt, laughs and says that of course she couldn’t have a second bowl of ice cream, she feels a bit less exposed. She has a deft hand with makeup now, and when the boy next to her calculates the tip wrong at the pizza place, she doesn’t say anything, only puts in the extra money herself. She makes little errors, doesn’t try as hard as she might on exams or papers, averages somewhere between a B and B-plus instead of her high school As. Her group of friends gives in to tradition, going to see the Red Sox play a Saturday afternoon game, and she doesn’t cheer without looking purposefully at the others, never gets up to shout at a batter, doesn’t list off any of the stats or rules that are still in her head. But there’s a frustration even with feeling the need to do those things. College, for everyone else, means pushing boundaries and exploring who they really are. Drea thinks she knows who she is, still, beneath it all, but digging it out and showing the world seems so dangerous a proposition.

There’s a group for gays and lesbians on campus, small and pretty quiet, but she could find out where they meet if she wanted to. She thinks they might understand, at least a little, but she can’t bring herself to do it. Even beyond the fear of calling attention to herself, she isn’t gay or lesbian and she won’t pretend to be just so she can talk to people who might have experiences something like hers. These are people who know lies well; she won’t add more. And she does not know whether they would be any more accepting of the truth than anyone else - perhaps even less, if they considered her a distraction, someone who would only serve to confuse their cause to outsiders.

She isn’t ready to be a cause. She’s trying hard enough to be a self.

The last week of April, people start talking about their summer plans, none of which are even being planned anymore, all foregone conclusions: travel, a job, summer classes, going back home to laze around or help with the family business. In some ways Drea craves the idea of home more than anything in perhaps her entire life. She imagines lying on her old mattress in Maryland and thinks that she would sleep for days as soon as she touched it. She wants Dad to hand her a bag of green beans to tip while he makes Surprise Meatloaf simply because he knows it’s her favorite, wants to talk politics with Mom and ask how she works with people who are vehement about opinions that are just entirely wrong. She wants to be shocked at how tall Nate is getting and go to the roller rink with Emma. She wants Rose to talk to, even when she’s pretending that she doesn’t. She wants everyone back in their place, how it was. She wants to be back in her place.

“If I come home,” she tells Dad one night, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to make myself come back.” It is late and she knows that she’s woken him, but this is the only time to take a turn on the hallway phone without anyone overhearing. She shivers a little and tucks herself closer; her nightshirt is fairly thin and she forgot to bring her robe.

“You worked so hard for it, and you've nearly exhausted the library here anyway. You need a challenge for your mind. A few months and I think you’ll want to go back.” He says it gently, lightly, but with such confidence that she can’t bring herself to tell him that just hearing his voice makes her throat feel thick and teary, that just saying the words “come home” gives her an ache along her breastbone. Never mind how Harvard is important, how she did work hard for it and has found things to enjoy despite it all. Never mind that once she makes it through, no one can take it away.

But he must hear something in her breathing, in that extra beat of silence. “Let me talk to your mom,” he says. “I think she’ll have an idea.”

She hadn’t realized until now just how much she’d missed hearing that.

Mr. Jarvis wears glasses now. He gazes at Drea over them, then looks over at Tony, who seems entirely absorbed in assembling an elaborate structure using blocks.

Jarvis doesn’t look convinced by his demeanor. Drea decides that she won’t either. She knows for a fact that the blocks are only a last resort anyway; Aunt Maria said that the chemistry set and the electronics kit aren't allowed to stay in Tony’s room until he's at least nine.

“Well, I shall leave the two of you to it,” Jarvis says. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to remember your manners, Master Stark?”

“I always remember my manners,” says Tony with solemnity, still stacking busily. Jarvis makes a dubious “hmm” sound as he leaves, but Tony waits until he’s out the door before adding, “But sometimes I don't want to use them.”

Drea snorts, then coughs to cover it up. To Tony she’s an adult, and she’s pretty sure that means she isn’t supposed to think sassing the other adults is funny.

Tony looks over at her. She suspects that he’s seen through the cough.

Crouching on the floor beside him, she picks up some blocks herself, trying to add them in places that won’t disrupt the careful architecture. Tony watches her silently for a minute, then seems to decide that she’s foolish but fairly harmless and goes back to his own work.

“Are you supposed to be my babysitter?” he asks after a minute.

Drea pauses, nudging a block carefully into place before answering. “Kind of, I guess. Just for the summer. I think Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis have other work to do.”

The Jarvises have been somewhat old for practically Drea’s whole life, but there’s a difference between general fitness despite graying hair or a little slowness to the limbs, and the energy required to keep up with Tony. Mom always says that one shouldn’t underestimate the Jarvises, but at this point even they seem to be open to the idea of some type of help, at least to tide them over until Tony starts school. She just has the feeling that she wasn’t exactly what they had in mind.

“What kind of babysitter are you?” Tony asks, as if he's interviewing her for the position. She doesn’t think he’d take kindly to her reminder that she’s already gotten it (on the merit of a call from her parents to Uncle Howard, but still).

“A pretty good one,” she lies, trying to inject some reassuring boisterousness into her tone. Her childcare resume is fairly sparse - her own siblings don’t count - but he doesn’t need to know that. Tony looks her over consideringly.

“I hope,” he says, prodding another block into place, “that you’re different from your sister.”

He means Rose, who has watched Tony along with the rest of them when they’ve gone away together to Maine or when the Starks have come to visit and the parents have gone out for the evening. Rose has very strict ideas on exactly who needs to listen to her, and how immediately, with which Tony has fundamental disagreements.

“I’m not exactly like Rosie.” She stops one of the pillars from toppling, straightening the blocks. Tony evaluates it and then gives a firm nod. “But if you want a really good babysitter, you should get Emma. She’ll bake you cookies, and maybe even teach you her secret recipe.”

“Do you bake?”

“Sure, but I don’t have a secret cookie recipe.”

“Not a secret’s okay too.” He blinks at her.

She finds herself grinning over at him. Drea doesn’t do that a lot; usually she just gives nice little smiles. “You want to go bake some cookies?”

The remaining blocks shed off his lap as he stands. “I have a better idea, actually. It’s all mostly just chemistry anyway.”

An hour and a half later, the big kitchen downstairs is covered in powdery white - flour and yeast and baking soda all floating into a snowy layer. It’s drifted even onto the pages of the still-open cookbooks that hadn’t offered what they’d needed. Drea rests the tray of hot pretzels on the counter just as Jarvis comes in and looks around in dismay.

“The baking soda is important,” Tony tells him. “It’s how the outside gets crispy and the inside stays soft. Just like for bagels.” He reaches to break off a piece, but Drea pushes his hand away, looking up to shrug at Jarvis.

“I have to support his science education. He can’t fall behind just because it’s the summer.”

“Or because he’s a child,” Jarvis says, raising a wry brow, and hands them damp clothes while he goes to fetch the broom.

They go to Central Park often, and Drea lets Tony think it’s her first time being there. He shows her all of his favorite things, a surprising number of which involve nature for someone who is being raised by one of the foremost technological minds of the century and seems happy to follow in his footsteps. He frequently requests a picnic basket for them to carry to Sheep’s Meadow or Cedar Hill, standing on a stool at the kitchen counter while Jarvis suggests sandwich fillings as if they are a Victorian lady and her cook putting together a dinner party menu, selecting fruits only after careful consideration, a miniature and bull-headed connoisseur.

Tony eschews the zoo in favor of the birds and bugs and flowers of the Ramble, the turtles in their pond. She can’t find it in her heart to tell him that all of that is human-created nature too. Though perhaps, she thinks to herself as Tony crouches to silently watch a butterfly land on a branch near him, taking in the careful and beautiful converging details of abdomen and wings and coloration, nature has taken over here anyway and made it all its own.

“How come you’re always fancy?” Tony asks as they stand at the edge of the Gill, watching the stream flow away. This deep in the park, it’s hard to remember that she isn’t in the woods back in Maryland. “It would be easier if you wore pants. Then you could get really close and not be worried about getting dirty.” He frowns at the way she has edged back from the mud and water.

Drea switches the picnic basket to her other hand. It’s gotten lighter since she made a rule that he has to carry it for one minute per every ten that she does. “I’m just being safe. What if you slipped and fell in? I’d want to be able to make a plan and rescue you instead of falling in too.”

“I wouldn’t fall in. And anyways, it isn’t that deep.” He crosses his arms. “What the real reason?”

“I’m just more comfortable this way,” Drea says, the basket in her hand preventing her from crossing her arms too. It’s too hard to explain the difference between her actual comfort, and the comfort she gets from avoiding scrutiny. “Now, come on, let’s go have lunch.”

They visit the Planetarium with frequency, clearly not Tony’s first time there. One of the attendants greets him with a smile and a welcoming sweep of the arm, nodding a cheerful “Mister Stark” as they enter the theater. Another watches them approach with eyes glaring, muttering “Mister Stark” through clenched teeth and trying to glance toward Drea with some sort of solidarity as she passes.

“The universe is so big,” Tony says with satisfaction as they sit, still staring up, after the show has ended one afternoon. The rest of the visitors are getting to their feet around them. “I bet there are aliens out there, huh?”

“I wouldn’t be too surprised,” Drea says. “Anything could be out there. There's plenty right here, after all.” And, to her own surprise, she laughs.

Each Wednesday, Tony goes to spend the day at Stark Industries with his father. It’s been a tradition since Tony was little. There’s a famous picture of Uncle Howard sitting at a big table during a presentation, a baby seat set up next to him. Uncle Howard is pointing to something, and baby Tony is leaning forward in his seat to do the same.

Among the SI scientists or outside contractors coming to pitch ideas, agreeing to a meeting on a Wednesday is seen as either extremely confident or extremely foolish, or both. Tony has a habit of interrupting with loud questions, and Uncle Howard has a habit of making decisions based on whether his son falls asleep or wanders off during a particular presentation.

Drea uses her Wednesdays for herself. She takes long walks down the city streets, and even as she revels in not having to answer a million questions a minute, she misses the way Tony makes her think and how his chatter quiets her mind. Settling herself into the oddly wonderful smell of books and old carpeting at the New York Public Library, she pages through the favorites of her childhood and doesn’t think for a moment about getting a leg up on class readings for next semester. (She does think, however, of her favorite carrel deep in the confusing stacks of the Widener.) Once, she goes out with Aunt Maria to the rehearsal of a play called Mrs. Murray’s Farm at the Circle Theatre, which they both agree probably won’t have very much success off-Broadway, much less on. Another time, she’s invited to some sort of philanthropic lunch. When she declines, Aunt Maria just laughs and says, “I’m sure you’re having plenty of opportunity to get involved with causes at school and you don’t need to listen to us prattle on.” Drea gives something like a smile and crosses her arms and doesn’t mention that she’s scared to attend protests and even sign petitions. It feels as if it would call too much attention to her, and she’s ashamed of herself.

Tony is actually fairly well-behaved in museums, chattering, pointing to everything, but not throwing tantrums or incessantly requesting to leave like some of the other children she sees (unless she really overdoes it). Still, there are some exhibits which hold so little interest for him that making him attend would be selfish. She goes by herself, walking with slow steps through the galleries, trying to take in all the art and history. She sends her dad a postcard of the prints from the Museum of Modern Art: It’s not the same, she writes, without getting a lecture about shading or how lithographs are made. And, of course, it’s no National Gallery.

Some afternoons she makes her way to the Stark Industries building too, giving her name and waiting for Uncle Bucky or Aunt Layla or both to come out and join her for lunch. There’s something grown-up about walking beside them with a pocketbook over her shoulder, asking about what they’re working on and telling them about Tony or something she read recently, as if they are fellow adults out for a bite to eat together. She’ll be twenty in the fall, voting next year, and she still isn’t quite used to that sort of feeling.

One morning in early August she sleeps in, spending several hours reading lazily in bed and then taking a long bath sometime in the afternoon. In some ways it’s relaxing. There are several bathrooms back at home, but she rarely gets to lock herself in for an hour or more without being disturbed, having someone pound on the door and beg (or, in Rose’s case, order) her to just get out of there already. Also, the Starks have much better bathtubs. Even the one adjoining her guest room feels like a small swimming pool.

She holds her breath beneath the luxuriantly hot water, eyes open, long hair billowing outward. She finds herself wishing that Thursday would come already, so she will have Tony’s whims as an excuse for laughing and expelling her energy and getting messy.

When she gets out, she puts on her robe and sits on the edge of the bed. She holds the remote control in her hand, but doesn’t turn on the television set.

There’s a knock on the door and she startles a little, settling when she hears Ana’s light, chiming voice saying through the wood, “I have your blouse, dear.” She had asked Ana a couple of days ago to repair a tear for her; she does know how to do it herself, but Ana is fast and neater.

She stands to answer the knock, smiling at Ana as she takes the blouse without bothering to examine the stitching. “Thanks,” she says, going to close the door again.

“Oh, Drea, dear,” Ana says quickly. “I see that you’ve washed your hair. Would you mind—It’s been a long time since I had a chance to braid someone else’s hair. Could I possibly try my hand with yours?”

Ana’s hair is always so carefully arranged. As hard as Drea tries, her long, dark hair never seems to lie as evenly or stay as neat and pretty.

“Oh,” she says. “Okay, I guess.”

She’s directed to sit on the floor while Ana sits on the bed. It’s quiet except for the sound of the brush working through her hair. Ana’s concentration seems to be on smoothing out the knots and tangles. It actually feels very soothing.

“Sometimes,” Ana says, still untangling, “even today, a person will make a terrible remark in front of me about Jewish people. And when I say that I am Jewish, they will say of course I’m not, because they know those people and I don’t act like one of them.” Her voice with its familiar slight accent, still there after all this time, is calm. Even the non sequitur feels dreamy and relaxed. She sets the brush aside and picks up a comb, tracing out sections along Drea’s scalp. “And sometimes, I will tell a person that I am Jewish and they will ask then which synagogue do I attend and where are my Sabbath candlesticks and my Jewish husband.” Her hands work gently with the strands of hair. “But no matter what these people or those people think, I still am who I am and very proud of it.”

She must hear Drea’s intake of breath but she does not pause to allow for any sort of answer or interruption. “I know very well how dangerous it can be to reveal yourself for the world. My friends, members of my family, were hurt or killed as people began to say that they were fooling everyone by pretending to be ordinary Hungarians. People who were kind can become cruel, even if simply with their words or by turning away with sympathy in their eyes. But caring so much for the way that others’ think and look at you, changing yourself and trying to pretend it all away - what kind of life is it to live?”

The braid is weaving into formation behind her. Drea feels tears in her eyes. “It’s too dangerous,” she whispers. “It could ruin everything. I know I should be brave and say to hell with everyone, but I can’t. It’s terrible, sometimes, trying to be just what people expect from a girl, but it’s so much easier, too.”

“Hmm.” Ana’s cheek rests briefly against the top of Drea’s head. “I understand. But there are so many different types of girls, the way that there are so many different types of Jews, and we are allowed to be a little of this and also a little of that - multitudes, as the poet says. Letting the person you are out into the world, perhaps just a little, might not be as dangerous as you think.”

The next Wednesday, Drea goes to Central Park by herself. She starts up one of the trails of the Ramble and before she knows it, she is running. Despite her skirt, despite what people might think of her, despite the man who yells, “Are you alright, young lady?” as she passes - she runs until she is panting, until she is laughing, broad and triumphant, until she has no breath.

She goes home for the last two weeks of the summer. Tony expresses his disapproval both vocally and by planting himself outside her door the day she is meant to leave.

“I’ll come back,” she promises, allowing him to keep a hold on her wrist even as Jarvis pulls the car around and parks.

“Next week?”

She ruffles his hair. “Try next summer, kid. I have things to do until then.” He has that mulish look back on his face, so she adds, “And so do you. You think three months of activities are going to plan themselves overnight? You have to show me a good time. I need you thinking about this until next year.”

“How very delightful the next months are certain to be,” Jarvis says dryly, picking up her suitcase and hefting it into the car.

She knew that Dad was going to come get her at the station, but Nate is there too, and Emma, and Mom, and even Rose.

“I don’t start again until next week,” her big sister says as they pile into the car. “And I couldn’t exactly leave without seeing you.”

There’s news to share all around, and souvenirs to hand out. They ask so many questions that Drea feels like a traveler back from exotic lands rather than the familiar premises of the Stark mansion.

Dad has made Surprise Meatloaf, and she doesn’t even have to tip the green beans. “Well, there’s always tomorrow,” he tells her with a wink, and she laughs.

There’s no chance to speak to him and Mom alone until late, when she comes downstairs from talking with Nate in his room to find them having a cup of tea together and probably waiting for her. There’s a third cup sitting empty; Mom pours, adds sugar, pushing it across the table as Drea sits down.

She stirs her cup thoroughly, staring into the cloudy heat of it, before she starts. “I’m going back,” she tells them. “Because I deserve to be there and to make the most of it. Because I want to. But I’m also—” She takes a breath. “I want to start seeing someone. A psychologist or a counselor, whatever you want to call it. There has to be one who’s safe to talk to, because I don’t know that I can keep everything hidden away anymore.” They are both watching her with care, neither preparing to interrupt, but she barrels on as if they might. “I know that you'd be here if I wanted to talk. And I know that you’ve worked hard to just let me be an average girl, and so much of my life has been normal and wonderful for it. But I’m not really average, I never will be, and I need some help dealing with that.”

Her parents trade glances. They don’t look upset or betrayed or anything of the sort, but Drea can’t bring herself to relax just yet.

Mom stands, and walks over to the front hall. Drea starts to get up to follow her, but Dad places a hand over hers, and she sinks back down. Her mother is back in only a minute, holding a manilla file folder.

“There are five in the area who seem reliable, but if you find someone else you’d prefer, I can certainly look into them as well.” She hands the folder over to Drea, who flips it open. “And if you’d like, we can contact the group at Hopkins to see if they might have former or potential patients who live close by who would be willing to speak with you. A bit more of an insider’s opinion.”

The list is neat and slightly clinical: names, office addresses, educational and occupational history. The typed Gs are a little wonky - Mom’s typewriter in her home office makes them like that; she’s been complaining about it absently for years without actually finding a replacement.

“I’ve put blue stars beside the ones that you would have to travel to using the bus system, and red stars for those accessible by subway,” Mom adds. “And tracing those routes was truly a nightmare. Why anyone would live in such a poorly designed city is outside of my comprehension.”

Drea looks at Dad, a bit of a question in her face. “Well, don’t expect me to stand up for Boston,” he says, eyes crinkling softly at the edges as he looks at her. He squeezes her hand.

It was this she was missing all year: being able to collapse, to allow truth into the open air, and to know that someone would have some sort of answer or at least be holding her hand after it all.

She’s the second one to arrive at the new suite in September.

Her parents help carry her things up to the fourth floor, take her for lunch, put up her posters where she directs them, lay fresh sheets on her bed. It’s several hours before they prepare to leave. Her mother holds her tightly. Her father kisses her forehead. “Have a good year,” he tells her, looking her directly in the eye, and she nods.

“Did you have a good summer?” asks Marnie, leaning in the doorway as Drea goes to finish unpacking once they’re gone. They had been roommates last year too. Alice won’t arrive until tomorrow. Kim had decided that she wanted a house close to the Yard instead of the Quad and joined another group instead, so a new girl called Bethany will benefit from their four South singles and big common room.

Drea tucks an orange T-shirt on the top of the pile and slides the drawer closed. It’s bright and sort of ugly, and will be the perfect thing to stand up wearing the next time they go to Fenway. “Yeah, summer was good. But I’m glad to be back.”

More chapters here

[anarchist-puppet-on-strings]

Stories Worth Telling

SUMMARY: Jackie only said yes to this interview in hopes of getting people to hate him less.

TW - VERY BRIEF MENTION OF PEDOPHILIA

Jackie’s nervous. He hopes to any higher being that may hear this that he doesn’t look as anxious as he feels. When people see him from afar they see someone calm and collected, a joke or witty comment at the ready. He prays this interview doesn’t reveal what a dorky mess he actually is to the public.

He watches with vague interest as the reporter he’d saved a week ago—Danny—got ready. A notebook was pulled out of her bag, pencil pulled from behind her ear, phone opened to the voice memo app and set on the table between them…. It seems like she really thought this whole thing through huh. Maybe she knew he'd say yes.

He fidgeted uncomfortably. He'd never done this sort of thing before. He’s talked to few people for extended amounts of time as Jackieboy Man and that was to calm a few victims, most being children—this is a journalist. The voice in his mind told him he'd mess this all up and make even more people hate him. Oddly enough, that thought is scarier than some criminals he's fought.

The phone sitting on the table, ready to record their whole conversation is more like a viper than a phone at this point. It stares at him like it’s waiting for him to fuck up once.

“Alrighty then looks like we're nearly ready!” Danny chirped happily. “I’m going to start recording our conversation—if that's okay with you,” she said, shooting him a questioning glance.

Against his better judgement, he swallowed and nodded nervously.

She tapped the screen and suddenly the interview had begun.

“So Jackieboy Man—can I call you Jackie?”

He nodded before catching his mistake. “Err yeah. Go for it.”

“Great,” she said absentmindedly, flipping through her small notebook. “First off: why’d you agree to this interview? You’ve shied away from reporters before.”

His mind blanked and he’s left struggling to pick out coherent thoughts. “Uh, well, I was kinda hoping this would clear up some questions people might have about me? I dunno, make them hate me less? And you seem less demanding and invasive than the other ones who’ve asked.”

She hummed, glancing up at him with a soft smile as she scribbled something down and flipped back a few pages. “What makes you think people hate you?”

He scoffed. “Oh please, I’ve seen the looks I get. And I can hear all the rumors.”

Someone started something saying he’s a leader of some new gang or something. While it’s kinda amusing, it hurts his fragile reputation of being the new hero in the city. Enough people didn’t trust him as it was and he didn’t need some stupid rumor messing things up even worse than they already were.

“Well, what you’re doing is illegal,” she pointed out dryly, giving him a look that he’s all too familiar with. Stay in your lane; it’s not your job. That look always pissed him off.

Jackie couldn’t help but bark a sardonic laugh, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Yeah, well, the cops aren’t doing shit, so I’m steppin’ up instead.”

Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that because now her interest is peaked. Her hazel eyes were glittering in excitement as she leaned forward.

“Ah, I’m sorry; that was uncalled for-”

“No, no,” she said eagerly. “Go ahead. What’re your opinions on the cops?”

Relax, Jay; this is an interview. It’s all about you. You’re not gonna get in trouble… yet.

“Well, I don’t really needta tell anybody how corrupt this city’s justice system is. All I see when I turn on the news is about how some cop abused their power and aren’t gettin’ charged blah blah blah.” Now that he’s clearly listening to himself, he realized how bitter and… sad he sounded.

“It happens pretty often,” Danny noted, pencil scratching against paper.

“Christ, it’s like this happens every few weeks!” He complained, running a hand down his face and over his mask. “It’s stupid! I mean, it’s not hard to be a good person!”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” She cut in. “Because of all the corruption?”

“Well, yeah, why else would I be doin’ all this shit?” He asked. “I have a job and stuff to do. Why would I want to be doin’ something I don’t needta be doin’?”

“People can argue that you don’t have the right to do that. There’s law enforcement after all.”

“Technically we just talked about why we can’t trust the cops but I’ll humor you. Ya can’t just sit around, twiddling your thumbs while you wait for someone to stop the people everyone put in power cuz nobody’s gonna stop them. Sometimes ya have to step up and be karma.”

“That’s… that’s quite the statement. Very raw.”

Jackie hummed.

Silence fell for a minute until Danny spoke again. “A while ago, one of my coworkers caught a video of you stumbling into an alley after a gunfight between two gangs when she arrived on the scene. Did you get hurt?”

Shrugging helplessly, he glanced down at the ground. ”Maybe.”

“Do you… do you get hurt often?” She asked. To Jackie’s disbelief, he heard genuine concern in her voice.

“I mean, yeah… not too often for bad injuries but normally scrapes and bruises here and there every night.” He chuckled. “Most the minor ones are my fault anyways. I’m not exactly graceful.”

More writing.

“Aren’t you scared?” She asked.

“Of what?”

“Getting hurt.”

“Oh, nah, not really,” he said dismissively. “What happens happens. I just brush it off and keep going.”

“Do your family and friends know you’re doing this?” She asked.

He blinked. “What?”

She repeated the question.

“Uh—no. I don’t have any family or friends.” It slipped out before he could stop it.

The look he received was of pure pity. He hated it.

Danny tapped her pencil against the edge of the table, watching as his leg bounced up and down.

“So… tell me about your spray painting.”

“Uhm, what d’ya wanna know?” His brows furrowed. Of all the things she could’ve asked, she asked about that?

She hummed. “Well, what’s with all the messages? You have some pretty meaningful ones plastered across the walls.”

Trying to recall any only resulted in a jumble of memories. All he could really remember is the fumes of paint and the dark shielding him from prying eyes.

“Which ones? I’ve done a lot.”

She flipped through her notes again and pulled out a few pictures stuck between some pages. A bright green eyeball with the optic nerve hanging down with a blue iris and a black pupil was present in every picture but...

Danny spoke before he could examine them of them close enough. “‘Don’t tell me what you want to be; tell me what you want to do.’”

He shrugged. “It’s always what d’ya wanna be when you grow up. I think what you’re gonna do is much more important.”

She furrowed her brows while nodding before moving onto the next one.

“‘Respect existence or expect resistance,’” she read aloud.

“I think that’s pretty self explanatory.”

She gave him a patient smile. “Tell me anyway.”

Jackie sighed heavily. “People don’t respect one another and then suddenly everyone is surprised when others start to say something about it or try to do something. It’s hypocritical.”

Once he made it clear he wasn’t going any further, she continued down the line. “‘Smile because you’re loved.’”

That one made him smile slightly. It’s one of his favorites. “I think reminders are nice. People always have someone who cares, even if they don’t think so.”

She stared at him for a moment before smiling gently. “That’s a nice message.”

“Yeah, I wish people told each other more often.”

“‘Stop being silent.’” She tapped the mute button drawn next to the phrase.

He stared her in the eyes. “Citizens have power. They’re just not using it. They’re trying to scare us into silence and it’s working. We need to do something.

“‘How many have to die?’” She turned the paper towards herself and rattled off, “‘Charlie Unger, Hailey Davis, Michael Crow, Thomas Marsh, Cale Sanders, Macy Parish, Gail Sullivan…’ and there’s many more. These are names of protesters.”

“And people who the cops killed,” Jackie added steelily.

“Why those names?”

“People have argued whether some of these people were “good” or not, but here’s the thing: most of them were children. I know Macy was 16 and the others were mainly older highschool or college students. You can say they were adults but they were still in school. They had things they’ll never get to do now, and they’re not getting their justice. It isn’t fair.”

Danny’s silent as she slid the picture back into her bag. She turned her attention on the next one. “‘Divided we stand, united we fall.’ This is pretty similar to the American motto.”

“Mmm it’s switched around.”

“Why this one? Are you bashing America?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I’m bashing this city. We all have our differences, opinions, and stories, and we let those define us. But when we fall down, we fall together. We have the same fate eventually. We stand divided but we fall united.”

She hummed again (she did that a lot). “What about this one? ‘Always watching?’”

“I don’t remember doing that one.”

Danny frowned. “It has your calling card by it. Or, at least, what looks like it.”

He frowned, turning the picture to face him. The words were jagged and sloppy with little care for how it appeared. But the eye by the words was… wrong. It was black with a combined neon green iris and pupil. It looked… ominous.

“That’s not mine,” he said. He picked it up, trying to figure out where this was. “Do you know where this is?”

She reached over and plucked the photo out of his hand and flipped it over.

In scrawling letters it read: 65830 Detroit Boulevard

Drumming his fingers on his leg, he hummed.

“Can I, ah, take a picture of this?” He asked, flipping it back over and staring at the cryptic words.

“Go ahead.”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he snapped a picture of the graffiti. He copied the address into the notes app before turning it off and putting it away. He slid the photo back to her so she could shuffle them back into her notebook.

She cleared her throat after a minute and continued. “Your latest stunt caused some controversy. People say you have no right to reveal people’s personal information like you did.”

“I’d say those rights are forfeited when you’re caught doin’ illegal things.”

“So it can be argued that your rights are forfeited as well?” She pointed out, jabbing her pencil at him.

He shrugged again. “I mean, yeah, sure.”

The answer must’ve let Danny down. “You’re pretty nonchalant about all this.”

He smiled. “Well, at least I know where my morals lie. I’m happy to say I’m not on the deep web watching little kids like McCallister was.”

At the mention of that, she became uncomfortable. “Why’d you reveal that information to the public?”

Jackie grinned. “Because he couldn’t be left off the hook with the whole city angry, no matter how corrupt the cops are. Even if he escapes criminal charges—which I doubt—people’ll throw him outta office. You have ta get people’s attention for them to listen.”

“I… I think that’s enough for now…” She said weakly.

“Oh? Am I free to go?” He asked.

She shoved her notebook into her bag and picked up her phone. “Sure, just give me some contact info, so I can get in touch to ask follow up questions.” It sounded like she didn’t realize what she’s saying. Contact info from a hero? Psssh.

He laughed as he made his way to the open window. “Nah, you’ll see me around. Just holler.”

“Hey! Wait!” She sputtered.

It’s too late—he’d already swung his legs over the windowsill and dropped down onto the fire escape.

Danny rushed to the window and peered out, watching him vault over the railing and drop into the darkness of the alleyway. She sighed, phone clutched in her hand. She looked at the new recording named by the date and time. “Oh well, at least I have this.”

This would be the biggest story since Jackie’s appearance—maybe even bigger! She could feel it.

(A/N) I’VE WORKED ON THIS FOR  D A Y S  AND IT’S FINALLY DONE!!!

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