#but just the title of them get this visceral reaction from me (: damn i sure love feeling overwhelmed with nostalgia

[kyoupann]

Turns out it really is me and the queer RPF fanfiction I read at 13-16 years old against the world.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 11 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: omg HI u lovely lot i’m so sorry this update took so long!!! thank you all so much for your lovely feedback on the last chapter and for being so patient with me. hope this chapter’s worth the wait- it’s BLACKPOOL BABEYYYYY!!! will Vanessa and Brooke get that perfect score???

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

21st November 2020

“Someone was havin’ some nasty-ass sex this mornin’.”

Vanessa watches Crystal almost spit out the water she’s currently glugging down after their full cast dress rehearsal. If she hadn’t just finished her own bottle Vanessa would’ve probably done the same. Akeria’s comment is casual but Vanessa knows her enough to work out its intentions; she wants to know who’s banging, specifically who did so in the last eight hours.

Crossing her legs, Vanessa thinks back to the day she’s spent with Brooke Lynn so far. Obviously the events of the morning are still playing on her mind, fresh and still searing hot like lava. But after that it was almost as if they had been on another date. They’d headed out into the crisp, bright morning and grabbed breakfast at a nearby cafe, where the tables were sticky and the menus were stained and the ketchup bottle had rings of old sauce around the outside. They had both ordered matching fry-ups and Brooke had tried black pudding for the first time, claiming it didn’t taste as bad as it looked.

“If we get picked for the tour just wait. I’m gonna make you try haggis when we get to Glasgow. It’s fuckin’ horrible,” Vanessa had teased her, Brooke fake-gagging and making her laugh.

Then they’d had a walk along the beach, the cold stinging their faces and the wind whipping at their hair and making Vanessa wish they could just hold hands without the fear of being caught by someone videoing them on their phone. It had still been nice to share it with Brooke, though, and before they’d had to be at rehearsals they’d gone to the arcade and played on the penny falls machines, Vanessa laughing at Brooke as she got way too excited because “it’s like real life Tipping Point!”.

And now Brooke is sitting beside her, calm and composed as Akeria brings up the sex that Vanessa is still recovering from which was apparently so noisy and loud that it managed to wake her up.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Gigi says all too quickly, which piques Vanessa’s interest and makes her wonder why she’s so quick to rush to denial.

“Nope. Neither,” Jan shakes her head, the clear attempt to make her face look impassive not fooling Vanessa in the slightest. Narrowing her eyes, Vanessa casts an eye over a guilty-faced Monique and Monet.

She’s starting to question whether or not she and Brooke were the only ones that got some action this morning.

Brooke herself has got a small smirk on her lips as she opens her mouth to speak. “How did you guys not hear that? It was so loud. Sounded like somebody having the best sex of their life.”

Vanessa almost chokes on her own tongue in her desperate attempt not to react. Akeria is nodding emphatically.

“This morning? I must’ve been out for my run,” Jackie shrugs nonchalantly. She’s got the best poker face out of them all.

“It was somebody really whiny,” Brooke adds casually. Vanessa slowly turns her head and narrows her eyes at her. Brooke raises her eyebrows, tilts her head innocently. “You hear it, ‘Ness?”

Vanessa kind of wants to melt because she that’s how she feels every time Brooke calls her that and she loves it, but also she’s winding her up too much and Brooke must know Vanessa wants to clap back about how Brooke wasn’t complaining at the time, or how whiny she’d been when Vanessa had been teasing her with her fingers and whispering in her ear.

“Jeez, I mean, I must’ve been in the shower.”

“No, I think you would’ve been able to hear it.”

“What name’d they call out?” Asia shrugs. Brooke’s reaction is visceral- Vanessa watches her give a sort of panicked cough.

“What?”

“Well. You girls hear ‘em yell a name? That’ll give a lot away.”

Most of the girls are silent and holding their breath. Crystal, Gigi, Jan, Jackie, Monet, Monique, Vanessa, each one hoping their own worst or best-kept-secret isn’t spilled. Even Brooke who was gleefully winding Vanessa up moments ago has fallen mute and is looking at Akeria quietly. Vanessa’s brain is flicking through a rolodex of snapshots of the morning she and Brooke shared, trying to pinpoint any specific moment where either of them had begged the other just a little too loudly.

Akeria, for her part, gives a sniff and a shrug. “Hmm. Nah. Just moaning.”

“Well whoever it was, I hope they had some lovely sex,” Crystal babbles, her face guilty as sin as she finishes buckling up her dance shoes. She’s laughing nervously as she desperately tries to move the conversation along. “God, when will this band be ready? Like, how long does it take to tune a trumpet? Right?!”

Monique enthusiastically jumps in and agrees, and the conversation is dropped. Although Vanessa still tilts her head at Brooke questioningly and, as the girls become embroiled in a new conversation, she leans into Brooke’s side and whispers to her.

“If you think I ain’t gonna make you pay for that later, you’re wrong,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes trained on the other girls.

“Cute that you think you’re going to make me pay for anything, it took me what, two minutes to make you crack?” Brooke replies, and Vanessa can hear the smile in her voice. Vanessa, once again, can’t resist (it’s becoming a theme) and she turns her head to meet Brooke’s eyes, the twinkle in them still sparkling relentlessly.

“Whiny? Really, bitch?”

Brooke tips her head back casually. “I know we’re dancing to Let’s Get Loud but you know that’s just a song title, not an instruction, right?”

Vanessa tries to stifle a giggle, attempting to maintain her unimpressed charade. When Brooke looks at her again the endeavour fails, and they both end up laughing together. As their laughter dies down, Brooke sighs and Vanessa watches her pick a little at her outfit. They’re both in co-ordinated showgirl costumes- Vanessa’s green, Brooke’s pink- and even though Brooke objectively looks incredible Vanessa can tell she doesn’t feel entirely comfortable.

“Hey. You good?”

Brooke sighs. “This is just very…out of my comfort zone. I’m a TV presenter, God, I’m pretty sure the BBC would rather I was just a floating head half the time. No limbs, no boobs, no butt, no skin. Maybe a skeleton, actually. I’m just not used to getting my legs out. Or…anything out, really.”

Vanessa feels herself frowning in concern, a little embarrassed at how quickly she rushes to boost Brooke’s confidence. “Hey, listen. If you don’t feel like you’re fuckin’ sex on legs after this morning- shit, scratch that, every damn day- then I’m not doin’ my job right. You look perfect.”

Under the orange lights of the ballroom and the sparkle of the glitterball Vanessa swears she sees Brooke blush a little. She smiles and touches Vanessa’s arm gently. “Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Nothin’, you just ran off with my heart on that induction day an’ never gave it back,” Vanessa sticks her tongue out at her. Brooke grins and Vanessa wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss her right there and then, in fact she swears that Brooke’s edging closer to her and maybe they could just give each other a small kiss, maybe everyone else would be too distracted, maybe-

“And here we have one couple who keeps saying that they’re Definitely Not Romantically Involved With Each Other At All,” comes a voice, and Vanessa realises who it is as Yvie sits herself down on the chair beside her, filming a video on her phone. Vanessa covers her face in embarrassment.

“Delete that,” Brooke says, and just by her tone Vanessa can tell she’s rolling her eyes.

“Why? Too on the nose?” Yvie laughs, and as Vanessa looks up again she can see Brooke fixing her with an unimpressed glare. Yvie sighs, sulks and stops filming. “Fine! Fine, God. But you know if you had nothing to hide, you wouldn’t want me to delete it.”

“Listen, you just think everybody is as loved up as you are because you’re so happy with Scarlet. How is she, by the way? She coming up to watch you or has she got filming?”

Vanessa relaxes, impressed with Brooke’s ability to steer the conversation off course as Yvie is happily distracted by talking about her girlfriend. While Yvie speaks about Scarlet and gushes about how amazing she is and how lucky she feels to be with her and how she never thought she’d find a girlfriend through a TV dance show, Brooke makes sure to bump her knee a little bit against Vanessa’s with each new compliment, a little gesture that speaks so many words without Brooke having to say anything at all and lights Vanessa up from the inside out, so much so that she feels like the glitterball hanging from the ceiling, sparkling and dazzling.

Rehearsals soon end and the girls all move into the green room backstage to chat about nothing in particular, laugh at the top of their lungs like teenagers at the back of a bus, and eat tiny amounts of pizza that they’ll finish after their performance when it’s cold. Vanessa’s heart is so full she feels as if it might burst because she’s here, she gets to dance in the tower ballroom on the biggest TV dance show in the country. Okay, she’s danced here before- for competitions and showcases- but tonight she’s getting to do it with Brooke. Vanessa feels silly for having that mean so much to her. They’ve only been seeing each other for about a fortnight and she shouldn’t feel this deeply, but every time she tries to self-regulate and pull her feelings back Brooke ruins her plans with a smile, or a burst of laughter, or a squeeze of her shoulder or her leg that turns Vanessa to jelly and puts her right back in her feelings again.

Again. As if she could ever possibly be out of them when she’s with Brooke.

It’s not long until the audience all file into their seats and the ballroom lights go down, and Vanessa’s heart is almost beating out of her chest as Brooke gives her a quick kiss on the cheek for luck in the dark of the heavy curtains backstage. As she makes her way to the middle of the dancefloor with the other pros ready to begin their dance, Vanessa can’t even bring herself to wonder if anyone saw the moment they’d just shared because under the hot yellow lights and the huge glittering orb hanging from the ceiling and surrounded by the ornate gold that seemed to decorate every inch of the ballroom, Vanessa simply feels giddy and light just like any other infatuated girl.

“Live from the Tower Ballroom…this is Strictly Come Dancing!”

The music from the band blares, the audience breaks out in cheers, and even though she’s in Blackpool Vanessa feels as if she’s home. The pro dance this week is full of joy and sparkle, and as she dances Vanessa’s smile reflects on the faces of the five other girls she’s dancing with. It’s not her performance smile, nor is it a fake one; her face is radiating genuine joy, sunbeams that she hopes light up even the living rooms of whoever’s watching. When Brooke and the other celebrities join them for the last part of their dance Vanessa gravitates towards her and they snap together in hold. She can feel the excitement pulsing through Brooke’s veins as she takes her hand, and they’re smiling at each other with such ferocity that they end up giggling for the last section of the dance. On the final beat of the song they all freeze together, and Vanessa rests her head on Brooke’s chest as she relaxes. There’s golden confetti raining down on them and a little piece nestles itself in Brooke’s blonde locks of hair that Vanessa never wants her to brush out.

“Blackpool,” she hears Brooke murmur above her, so nearly inaudible she’s panting so much.

Vanessa looks up at her, cheeks hurting from her grin. “Blackpool.”

The girls all run off to get changed into their individual dance costumes they had worn before. Vanessa is glad that Brooke seems a little more confident in her outfit; she doesn’t know whether her new-found self-assuredness is down to Vanessa’s pep talk earlier or the adrenaline rush of performing, but she’ll take happy Brooke over nervous Brooke whatever the reason. Brooke looks the best out of all the girls- okay, Vanessa knows she’s biased, and in fairness everyone looks amazing. Crystal and Gigi are done up as little astronauts for their Salsa to Cosmic Girl, huge perspex space helmets over their heads with their faces covered in glittery highlight and little stars. Asia and Akeria look like early 00’s girlband members in matching green camouflage cargo pants and black bodysuits. They’re doing some sort of cool thing with aerosol cans for their Commercial dance to Scandalous and Vanessa’s promised Kiki that she’ll get into a good position in the auditorium to watch them both.

Although as everybody begins to dance, Vanessa slowly becomes less excited and more nervous. She mentally repeats each couple’s score in her head like some sort of meditational mantra- Yvie and Jaida 29, Akeria and Asia 37, Jan and Jackie 36. They range from unthreatening to panic-inducing, and as she and Brooke make their way backstage while Crystal and Gigi’s VT plays, Vanessa can feel the anxiety climbing in her throat, can feel her feet shaking in her shoes with every step.

“Hey,” Brooke stops suddenly in the darkness, her tone concerned and a little worried frown set on her face. “I can feel you worrying. What’s the matter?”

Brooke is beginning to thread her hand in Vanessa’s own, and she accepts. She already feels it grounding her, but her breathing is still shallow and her stomach is still in knots. “Just these scores…fuck, Brooke Lynn, I want us to be on top so bad. I want you to be on top so bad.”

“Yeah, you seemed to like it earlier,” Brooke winks at her, as Vanessa instantly realises what she’s said. She splutters a laugh, clamps her hand over her mouth in case they’re picked up over the microphones even though Vanessa knows there’s no way they could be. Brooke’s smile softens as she takes Vanessa’s other hand, swings them a little.

“Look. Do I care about being top of the leaderboard? Sure! But this, this whole thing has become less about the competition for me and more about getting to dance with you every week. Knowing we can go out there and be amazing no matter what the judges say, knowing I can showcase your amazing choreo and bring it to life, and being able to show you off and watch you be talented and incredible and clever. If we get the scores, we get the scores. But even if we don’t I want you to know that there’s nobody else I’d rather dance with, nobody else I’d rather be sharing this journey with. You’ve made it so special for me just because you’re you.”

Vanessa feels herself lean into Brooke’s touch as she takes a little curl that’s framing her face and tucks it behind her ear. She can feel something tumble and fall gently inside her- maybe she’s developing more feelings or maybe it’s a barrier breaking, she doesn’t know- and in that moment she throws caution to the wind and pulls Brooke in, their lips meeting softly as Crystal and Gigi start their dance through the curtain beside them. Vanessa’s heart thuds in her ribcage as she thinks about the fact that that’s all that’s separating them from the ballroom and the cameras and the millions of viewers. If the curtain were to fall…

She melts into the kiss and she can feel her anxieties melting away; Brooke is a gentle wave on the shore and Vanessa is sand and the occasional broken piece of shell, shifting under her and allowing herself to be drawn in. As Brooke pulls away Vanessa pouts her lips in disappointment, so Brooke gives her one, two, three little pecks before stepping back for good this time.

“Better?”

Vanessa can feel her pulse racing, but this time it’s excited nerves rather than anxious ones. She fixes Brooke with a little smile. “Yeah. Better.”

“Okay. That being said, let’s go get that top spot.”

The audience cheer Crystal and Gigi, and Vanessa’s skin prickles as she realises she and Brooke Lynn are dancing soon. They make their way to the wings where they’re met by a runner who eventually shows them out onto the floor. Vanessa takes a deep breath in her spot on the lacquered wood underneath a spotlight. She looks over to Brooke who’s on a little plinth, all lit up with a wall of halogen bulbs behind her, and gives her a little wink and a thumbs up. Brooke looks just as nervous as she is, but the smile she gives Vanessa goes some way to reassure her.

And then, a few seconds which feel like minutes later, the commentator’s voice booms overhead.

“Dancing the Cha Cha Cha…Brooke Lynn Hytes and Vanessa Mateo!”

The halogen lights behind Brooke blind Vanessa as she looks at her, suddenly confident and poised, a huge smile on her face on the stage. She looks like a real professional. Fuck, Vanessa’s so proud of her.

“Blackpool!” Brooke yells as loud as she can. “Let’s…get…loud!”

Pyro goes off behind the wall of light as the music starts, and the audience screeches as Brooke descends the stairs and practically runs to Vanessa, holding her hands tightly as they start their dance with matching smiles on their faces. A cha cha cha is a technical one, all about the footwork and arms, and they can’t really hide behind their obvious chemistry this time. But they’ve worked hard, so fucking hard, and Brooke can do it without a single mistake, Vanessa knows this.

Vanessa jumps up into a lift, Brooke holding her in her arms and spinning her round and making her giggle involuntarily. Maybe Brooke is right, Vanessa thinks, as she is gently deposited down and they jump back in hold again. Maybe none of this matters any more; the competition, the scores, the TV show. Maybe all this has to be is Vanessa dancing with Brooke and having fun, the pair of them growing closer with every passing second, and Vanessa coming dangerously close to falling for someone again with every passing day.

As Brooke faces forward and Vanessa does the same, then drops to the floor and wiggles her way up Brooke’s legs, it also occurs to her that it could also be about the great fucking sex they’re having. Well, have had. But Vanessa knows there’ll be another time, maybe probably very soon judging from the way Brooke’s now gliding her hands down Vanessa’s body.

She can’t let her concentration wander, however, so Vanessa’s brain is back in the game as they step, twirl each other round, Brooke dips her confidently before they go back to stepping quickly again, twirling effortlessly into a New York. As the horn section from the band blasts, Vanessa gauges the audience reaction. They’re cheering and clapping along and the judges are leaning forward, engaged and impressed. Even Bianca’s got a little smile on her face. In spite of everything, Vanessa feels her heart begin to rise.

“Ain’t nobody gotta tell ya what you gotta do…”

As the song ends, Vanessa holds Brooke’s hand as they whip out their final party piece- Brooke drops to the floor in an effortless split, and the crowd raises the roof. Shangela is screaming from her position behind the judges’ table and Brooke is screaming too as she swings her legs round and stands up, crushes Vanessa in a hug who’s already got her own arms out waiting for it. Vanessa mutters praise into Brooke’s chest and she can feel her planting a kiss to the top of her head in response, their little tradition that she’s glad Brooke hasn’t stopped.

As they cross over to Michelle Vanessa is grateful that Brooke is carrying the interview, as she can hardly speak out of her own gripping nerves. She knows that dance went well, she knows it’s the best they’ve ever done it. So when Michelle hands over to Shangela, Vanessa isn’t sure that she breathes for roughly ten seconds.

“I…thought…” Shangela starts, and Vanessa’s lungs almost give out. “…that that was the best we’ve ever seen you dance, Brooke Lynn.”

The audience erupts and Vanessa looks up at Brooke and beams, squeezing her tightly and refusing to let go. Brooke’s eyes are still on the judges as Shangela’s compliments continue. “Your footwork and your synchronicity with Vanessa…it was all just so, so polished, I mean a lot of celebrities when they come on this show, they can find the syncopation really difficult and you just- I mean it was like asking you to count to ten! You had a great night tonight, well done.”

The audience cheer her comments, and then it’s Kennedy’s turn to give her feedback.

“Yeah, I agree with Shangela. You are at your peak in this competition, and that was your best night yet. That was absolutely flawless, I just…I don’t have anything left to say at this point.”

Vanessa’s breath is heavy and laboured, trying to calm her rising hopes at all this praise Brooke is receiving. After Kennedy is Laganja, and she’s practically on top of the table as she yells about the pair of them, how much chemistry they have and how faultless Brooke’s performance was and how their Cuban breaks were perfection incarnate.

“And if this doesn’t get the score it should-” she finishes, shooting Vanessa’s pulse through the roof with a catapult. “- then I’m leaving the show!”

As the audience laugh and applaud Laganja’s comments, Vanessa feels Brooke’s grip on her waist tighten as it reaches Bianca’s turn. The crowd is silent, and if Vanessa squints she can see Brooke’s rapid breathing beside her.

Come on…come on…

The whole room seems to hold its breath. Bianca’s face is impassive as she opens her mouth to speak. “I couldn’t fault that if I tried.”

Vanessa’s face drops in shock and she feels Brooke lurch beside her, the levels of praise they’re receiving from Bianca Del Rio hardly registering. The audience is almost deafening at this point and Vanessa’s ears are straining to hear the rest of the judge’s comments.

“The Cha Cha Cha…I mean it’s a fun dance, it’s a cheeky dance, but it’s so rarely a showstopper, and that just stole the show. Shangela is right, there are so many things that meant you could’ve butchered that entire dance- hello, you’ve got one of the best Latin specialists in the country coaching you, hard not to be a little intimidated- but you took it all in your stride and it was like watching a fish swim, the effortlessness of it all. But one of the things I loved most about it all was just how much fun the pair of you were having. It was like neither of you seemed to realise that you were dancing in a competitive setting, and it felt as if we were all here to watch you on tour or something. Really well done tonight, Brooke Lynn, you did yourself proud.”

As the crowd claps for them both and Michelle sends them up to the Divinatorium, Vanessa clutches Brooke’s hand tightly. She sneaks a look at her as they run up the stairs and giggles as she finds Brooke’s eyes already on her. As Divina talks to them both and Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her shoulder from behind her, she can barely concentrate on anything as her whole body vibrates in anticipation. Vanessa does manage to tune in, however, when she hears her name mentioned.

“Bianca did say it must’ve been intimidating for you to have Vanessa coaching you on a Cha Cha Cha- did you feel the pressure this week?” Divina asks Brooke, and Brooke just laughs, puts an arm around Vanessa’s waist and pulls her close.

“I mean there’s always that little bit of pressure when you’ve got someone like Vanessa coaching you, because she’s so talented and perfect at what she does,” Brooke smiles down at her, and Vanessa’s heart feels completely stuffed full of affection. “But she’s never intimidating, and she never puts pressure on me. In fact she puts way more pressure on herself, which she needs to stop doing, because look how well we both did tonight!”

Vanessa feels herself blush and all she can do is wrap another arm around Brooke’s waist as Divina continues to speak.

“Well, Brooke Lynn, I can confirm the judges’ scores are in. Let’s see what they thought.”

And then there’s the all-consuming feeling of holding her breath and gripping Brooke’s side as if she’s her lifeboat. Vanessa’s heart is just going and going and going because maybe, maybe, maybemaybemaybe…

“Will the judges please reveal their scores. Bianca Del Rio.”

“Ten.”

“Kennedy Davenport.”

“Ten!”

“Shangela Wadely.”

“It’s a ten!”

“Laganja Estranja.”

“TEN!”

They have done it. Forty out of forty.

Brooke has wrapped herself around her like an octopus with half its limbs cut off and is screaming in much the same matter. Vanessa can feel her nails dig into her back, a few tears drop down onto her shoulder and something inside her just breaks, and before she knows it she is simply holding Brooke and crying and Brooke is doing the exact same to her. The cheers from the other couples on the balcony turn into awws, and a box of tissues is shoved towards them. Vanessa soon realises that Divina is attempting to talk to her so she takes a tissue, sweeps it under both her eyes quickly.

“Sorry…that was a big reaction, it just meant a lot to the both of us. Brooke Lynn’s been working so hard every week so to get that sort of acknowledgement means the world to me. I just want everyone to think she’s as amazin’ as I do.”

As Divina reads out their voting details then signs them both off, everyone claps and Vanessa takes Brooke’s hand again. This time her grip is gentle as if Brooke will crumble apart on contact. When Brooke pulls her into her dressing room, there’s not the fire and heat that there had been last week; instead they hold each other softly, and Brooke rubs her back slowly while murmuring quiet, affectionate words into her hair in between pressing kisses to her forehead.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she says after a pause, and Vanessa’s stomach does a bungee jump.

“Stop it,” she replies quietly, if only to deflect from the fact that she’s thinking the exact same thing about Brooke but doesn’t dare say it back; she’s scared to say it out loud because the last time she felt this way about someone it all ended up in heartbreak and hurt and mess.

“It’s true,” Brooke insists simply, but she doesn’t push it or overdo it- her statement is her statement, and Vanessa’s glad she’s letting it be.

The perfect score, being top of the leaderboard, everything Brooke’s said to her tonight- Vanessa’s on cloud nine. That is until the results show is filmed, and one of Vanessa’s worst fears about being on the show comes true.

“I can now reveal that the second couple in the dance-off and joining Yvie and Jaida are…”

Drum beat. Drum beat. Vanessa’s ribcage is tight and constricted, and she daren’t let herself relax even though their scores were so perfect, even though they did exactly what they’d set out to do because maybe their fans could get complacent, maybe they didn’t vote as much this week…

“Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa’s guts feel as if they’re plummeting to the floor. She breaks away from Brooke, cranes her neck and looks over at her friend whose spotlight has changed colour leaving both Monique and Monet bathed in a sickening red. Monique had told her their dance hadn’t gone great- they’d performed directly after her and Brooke, and the pressure of having to follow their perfect score had rattled Monet to the point where she’d made too many basic errors- but Vanessa didn’t for one second think they’d land in the bottom two. Monique catches her eye, gives her a helpless, sorrowful smile, and Vanessa feels her eyes fill with tears.

As the other dancers are led up to the Divinatorium to watch the couples, Vanessa and Akeria gravitate to each other like little magnets, take each other’s hands with grave faces and emotional eyes. Brooke rests a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper to her.

“It’ll be alright. Yvie got under 30, God love her. She’s great, but Monet’ll overshadow her. Monique isn’t out, don’t worry.”

Brooke can usually say all the right things to calm Vanessa down, but not this time. She, Akeria and Monique had been so excited the moment they found out they’d all have partners this year, and Vanessa remembers the drunken pact they’d made after the launch show that they’d be the last three standing in the competition, the best of the best. It had been a silly joke, but watching as Monique takes to the floor and holds Monet in her arms, it’s never meant so much to Vanessa to have her friend share this journey with her.

As the music begins and Vanessa watches Monet and Monique glide across the ballroom floor effortlessly as the sparkling glitterball casts its mirrors over their bodies, she feels Brooke wrap her arms around her from behind and rest her chin on her head. Without thinking they fall into a soft sway and even though Vanessa’s heart is still in her mouth- because the two girls can’t leave the competition yet, it’s not their time, and she, Monique and Akeria have to be in the final together- Brooke’s gentle rocking manages to ground her and calm her without her even having to say a single word. Vanessa thinks back to what she had said backstage, how much Brooke had completely lit up her heart, and she wonders if she truly meant it all. The song’s lyrics drift into Vanessa’s consciousness as she watches Monet lift Monique gently, spin her around like she’s the dancer twirling around in a music box.

“What you say you can’t take back, no takebacks, don’t take that back…‘cause your words mean the world to me…”

Vanessa feels like laughing. Ain’t that the truth.

Monet and Monique finish their dance well with only a couple of noticeable faults, and then Jaida and Yvie do their Tango once again. It wasn’t too strong the first time and the clear pressure that comes with being in the bottom doesn’t help Yvie, as she makes a few visible mistakes. If the judges have eyes, Vanessa knows they’ll save Monique and Monet. Then again…stranger things have happened on the show.

Michelle consoles both pairs as they take their places under another spotlight each on the dancefloor. Monique and Monet’s hands are joined together tightly, and Yvie has her arm around Jaida’s shoulders, a light smile of defeat on her lips as if she knows the result already.

“Judges, I am now going to ask for the name of the couple you want to save and take through to Musicals Week next week. Starting with Bianca.”

Bianca shuffles a few papers and fixes both couples with a calm stare that flips Vanessa’s internal organs. “Well Yvie, I think you’ll agree that there were a few mis-steps there that couldn’t really be ignored, and Monet, conversely, you managed to elevate your performance in the dance-off. So tonight, I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa feels Akeria squeeze her hand, her grip damp from the nervous sweat on her palm.

“Shangela.”

Shangela frowns, a pained expression on her face. “I mean it’s hard, because both dances had some errors here and there. However I’m going to go with my gut and the person I think deserves to stay and improve is Yvie. So I’m saving Yvie and Jaida.”

Vanessa lets go of Akeria’s hand, brings both of her hands up to cup her cheeks and exhales heavily. As Kennedy is head judge her vote holds the most weight on the panel, and so Michelle next comes to Laganja.  

“Yes, as Shangela said, neither was a perfect dance. But I personally think one couple managed to improve on their initial performance, and so tonight I’m saving Monet and Monique.”

Brooke squeezes Vanessa’s waist and holds her tightly as finally, Kennedy makes to cast her vote. Vanessa feels ill. She can only imagine what’s going through Monique’s mind as she stands in her character shoes, gripping Monet’s hand with her gaze very firmly locked on the floor.

“For me…it comes down to the connection between one couple in particular, and the emotion and the storytelling behind their routine. The couple I’m saving…is Monet and Monique.”

Vanessa melts out of Brooke’s arms and instead turns to hug Akeria, holding her as tightly as she’s holding Vanessa back and feeling her heartbeat through her chest. Vanessa feels Brooke put a light hand between her shoulder blades reassuringly, and the double dose of human contact helps bring Vanessa right down to earth from the rafters her sky-high anxiety levels had perched her up in. When the show ends, Yvie and Jaida share one final dance, and the others are allowed to invade the dancefloor and say goodbye, it’s not the eliminated couple Vanessa runs to but her cherished friend instead. Akeria joins them and the three of them hold each other and shed tears, relief not even being able to cut it.

It’s Yvie’s idea to go for drinks after the show- she’s happy even though she’s been knocked out, though Vanessa thinks that’s got something to do with the fact Scarlet has travelled up to watch her after all. So it’s a pleasant feeling when Vanessa finds herself clambering off the emotional rollercoaster she’s been strapped into all night and instead beginning to take on a more mellow form of happiness induced by the three pornstar martinis she’s managed to knock back so far. Even though they arrived at short notice the dancers and celebrities have all managed to secure a huge booth near the back of Revolution, where it’s dark and private and everyone else is too glammed-up and full of flavoured shots to notice a huddle of TV personalities. Vanessa looks fondly over at Brooke who’s dancing with Yvie, Scarlet, Jaida and Jackie who collectively are making her wonder how they’ve managed to lose the co-ordination and grace they show on TV every Saturday. Gigi and Crystal are on the other side of the booth, sitting close and having what looks to be a deep, meaningful heart to heart, and Jan, Monet and Asia are nowhere to be seen (either smoking area or bathrooms is Vanessa’s best guess).

Vanessa cheers as Monique returns to the booth with Akeria, carrying a stick of shots and a huge fishbowl of purple liquid respectively. The pair of them squash themselves down beside Vanessa and they grab a shot class each, toasting to them all surviving another week in the competition.  

“I can’t lie, my heart was in my damn asshole when Michelle said your name,” Akeria points at Monique, her turn of phrase making Vanessa snort out half her drink.

“Excuse me! You were the one panicking? I was the one that had to dance the damn thing all over again!” Monique clutches at her chest incredulously. Vanessa wiggles her eyebrows at her friend.

“Well ain’t it lucky you and Monet have that connection that managed to save you.”

Akeria jumps on Monique’s bashful expression like a cat on a mouse. “Yeah, how’s that situation goin’? Seems okay by the looks of things.”

“We had a long chat on Tuesday,” Monique brushes a bit of hair out of her face and looks at her lap. “I was honest with my feelings and so was she. Turns out she actually really likes me back. Crazy, ain’t it? My actual real-life celebrity crush likes me like that.”

Vanessa and Akeria squeal excitedly, and Vanessa sips from the fishbowl as Akeria asks where this leaves them both.

“Well, we’re both just focussed on the competition just now. Need to beat both you bitches, don’t we?” Monique sticks her tongue out, tinged blue from all the cocktails she’s been drinking. “But we’ve been doin’ more cute stuff, not just all the nasty shit. She came round to mine the night before we got the train up here an’ we had some wine and watched a movie an’ just talked an’ cuddled.”

“Ugh, puke. I don’t know what’s worse, havin’ to hear about your rehearsal-room bangin’ or havin’ to hear about all the diabetes-inducing shit you do now you’re both all in your feels,” Akeria gags jokingly, and Vanessa chuckles as Monique pushes her friend, unimpressed. Suddenly, something seems to occur to Akeria. “So wait. Was it you two I heard this mornin’ then?”

Vanessa’s tipsy and she doesn’t want to keep Brooke a secret any longer, at least from her two best friends. So as Monique shakes her head, she grimaces and gives a slow shrug.

“Uh…I think I can answer that.”

Akeria blinks at her and Vanessa can practically see the cogs turning in her brain. Monique gets there first though, and she emits a high-pitched shriek that soars above the speakers and makes Gigi and Crystal jump about twenty feet in the air from across the booth. Vanessa frantically shushes her, and that’s when Akeria catches on.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Lord Jesus. It was you an’ Brooke Lynn, wasn’t it? Tell me I’m right,” Akeria grabs Vanessa’s wrist, shaking her so excitedly and violently that even the table manages to shake too.

“You sorted your shit out? When?! Where is Jesus!” Monique squeaks at a pitch that, if Vanessa couldn’t make out herself, she would be convinced only dogs could hear.

“God, okay, it was after that night I came and stayed at yours. You know, when I kissed her and then she got weird with me and I told you both about it on the group chat,” Vanessa explains, starting from the very beginning. “Anyway it was that week we did the Argentine and it’s hard not to feel a way when you do that kinda dance, y’know? So it ended up happenin’ again an’ we actually talked this time. She told me she had this big crush on me, an’ obviously I felt the same. So…yeah. We’re…well, not together, but we’re a thing for sure.”

In the midst of Monique’s excited reaction, Akeria narrows her eyes. “What, when you did that Tango? Girl. That was what, a whole-ass week ago? More? Why’re we only just getting told about this?”

Vanessa pulls a face. “Well, we’re both trying to keep it low key. You know what happened with Kam, an’ I don’t wanna get too invested too fast. Plus if it gets into the papers…”

“That’s fair. Got it, girl. We’ll keep it all secret,” Akeria reassures her instantly, taking her hand and leaning into her side in her tipsy state. “This is dead cute, though. I’m happy for you, babe.”

Monique gasps in outrage. “Oh, so when Vanessa gets a girl it’s cute but when I get a girl you gag?”

“Yes. Because Vanessa don’t bang her girl on the rehearsal room floor,” Akeria frowns at her, and Vanessa explodes a laugh. She’s so full of love for her friends, and she’s beyond glad that tonight’s been her night. So when their song comes on over the speakers and Akeria starts yelling it out in her own off-key way, Vanessa drags them both up to join the clump of girls already on the dancefloor, and when she dances over to Brooke’s side she can’t help but feel a little warmth flow through her veins as Brooke’s vision sparkles at the sight of her.

They all end up dancing til closing time, and as they spill out onto the streets like the club has coughed them up Vanessa has to fight the drunken thoughts her mind is producing that are urging her to take Brooke’s hand on their walk back to the hotel. There could still be a camera anywhere, even at one in the morning, and Vanessa doesn’t want to risk the small beginnings of whatever it is she and Brooke are sharing.

Still, when they’re back in their hotel room they’re free to act as affectionately as they want, and Vanessa has never been more glad of the fact they’ve been given a double bed as they fall back against the mattress, giggling and kissing each other like the worst kind of honeymoon phase idiots the world has ever seen.

“Can’t be bothered to put m’ pyajamas on,” Brooke murmurs, her speech impeded by the espresso martinis she’s been drinking and the lethargy that’s rapidly taking over her. Vanessa laughs softly, turns over onto her side and tucks a strand of hair behind Brooke’s ear. Her lipstick is faded, one of her eyelashes is sticking up at the side, and there’s a little patch of smudged eyeliner at the corner of her eye, but Brooke’s still perfect to her.

“Jus’ sleep naked,” Vanessa says, attempting to sound seductive but getting betrayed by the yawn that escapes her mouth mid-sentence. Brooke laughs.

“You really know how to charm a woman into bed, Ms. Mateo,” she teases her, tapping her lightly on the nose with her finger. Vanessa bares her teeth at her, biting at the air and causing Brooke to dissolve into giggles.

“You’re a mess.”

“Hey, so are you!” Brooke laughs incredulously, and Vanessa has to concede. She watches as Brooke sighs wearily, sitting up against the pillows and pulling off her lashes one by one. Brooke leans over the side of the bed for the packet of makeup wipes in her bag and Vanessa can’t help but smack her butt that’s sticking in the air. Brooke responds by launching the makeup wipes at her, hitting her square in the face and causing the pair of them to burst out laughing again.

Vanessa takes out two wipes and hands one to Brooke, and somehow the pair of them end up taking each others’ makeup off, their hands swiping at each others’ faces haphazardly like faulty windscreen wipers on an old car.

“This is the worst facial I’ve ever had,” Vanessa jokes disdainfully, and Brooke waggles her eyebrows.

“I’ll give you a facial later.”

Vanessa snorts ungracefully as Brooke breaks out into a ridiculous grin and ends up with the makeup wipe in her mouth. “Shut the hell up!”

They eventually end up in their pyjamas, but not before Brooke gives Vanessa the world’s worst striptease (Brooke attempting to take her pants off but instead getting them caught around her ankles and falling onto the floor, rendering Vanessa incapable of speech during a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes). Vanessa’s not sure what time it is when they finally turn off the lights, get under the covers and sleepily wrap themselves around each other, but she knows it’s pitch black outside and the seagulls are silent and she can just about hear the waves crashing onto the beach if she listens hard enough.

She’s so busy trying to hear the sea against the shore that she doesn’t register Brooke is saying something until she hears the tailend of her sentence, only aware Brooke’s lips have been moving against her skin when they stop.

Vanessa stretches a little. “Hm?”

She feels herself melt as Brooke pulls her closer, hugs her tighter and shakes her head a little. “Doesn’t matter. Night, ‘Ness.”

“Night, Brooke Lynn.”

It’s only once Vanessa is ever so close to falling asleep that she feels as if something was missing, like she wanted to say something more- but the words elude her and she is too tired to think too much about it, so she lets herself be carried off to sleep in Brooke’s arms, comfortable and relaxed inside and out.

[lightchildofthespring]

The fantastic adventures of Takeru Takaishi

Chapter 4: Old friend

Summary: with no news from his henchmen, who had gone up the hill after the revolutionaries, the lord of Turtle Island has a conversation with the monk. The mysterious cleric sounds like a young man, but doesn’t act like one. The Goddess, the Devil, the Angel of Death, the Light stealer... the mystery behind Koushiro’s curse begins to be unveiled by his oldest friend.

Shigeo Yamanaka was very surprised by the visit of a member of the Order of the Nameless Monks that morning. They were the highest order in the hierarchy of the Church, having only the High Priestess above them, and they were said to be the most skilled warriors in the world. The one who entered his house unceremoniously had the voice of a young man, but something in his way of talking denounced more age and experience than that person should have.

The monk told him that the Goddess herself had given him the mission of helping Yamanaka destroy the revolutionaries on that island. Yamanaka wasn't sure he could trust that man, but to oppose a nameless monk could bring grave repercussions, such as losing his title of Lord of Turtle Island. Besides, sending his armed henchmen up the hill to hunt down the rebels would probably not cause too many losses, considering that the revolutionaries usually ran from battles they couldn't win. What caused him apprehension, though, was to be left alone in the mansion with that cleric who, not satisfied in sending away his henchmen, also ordered Yamanaka's employees to leave the place for the rest of the day.

Hours passed and the night fell. The smoke that had been seen on the hill earlier had already dissipated. Yet, there was no sign of anyone returning from that place. His men largely outnumbered the rebels, there should be no possibility that they could have lost. The noble kept telling himself that, attempting to remain calm. His men couldn't have been defeated! It was impossible!

But what if it wasn't? It became too hard to divert his mind from that possibility. He sent everybody there! Everybody! If the revolutionaries, by some miracle, killed them all, Yamanaka would be left without enforcers! Who would collect the taxes? Who would punish the insolent and ungrateful peasants? What about the servants? Who would keep them under control?

Then, a different and more visceral fear emerged. In the off chance that he lost all his henchmen, who would keep the Lord of Turtle Island safe? Those ignorant peasants would invade his property and steal his valuable possessions! Those brutes would threaten his life in exchange for richness they didn't deserve! The Yamanaka house had served the Empire for almost one thousand years, which was the same as serving the Goddess! How could he accept that the blessings received by his family, a true reward for their hard work and loyalty, could be tainted by simple-minded commoners who didn't know their place?

Yamanaka took a deep breath. There was nothing good at letting his imagination get wild. That cleric, a true messenger of the Goddess, had assured him that things would work out fine. Weren't the nameless monks known for being undefeatable? The noble had nothing to fear when a carrier of divine grace had vowed to protect him. Nevertheless, he was still standing in front of the large window of his living room, trying to spot anything suspicious in the dark. Without Yamanaka noticing it, the monk took the liberty to take two glasses of wine from a cabinet. He approached Yamanaka and offered him one of the glasses while taking a sip from the other.

“I thought monks weren't allowed to drink alcohol,” Yamanaka commented, astonished at the audacity of that man, who was treating himself to such expensive wine.

Shouldn't monks be frugal? Shouldn't they avoid earthly pleasures? That man was certainly a disgrace to the Church! Yamanaka wished  he could see the other's face, which remained mostly covered by the cloak's hood, so that he could give the description to one of his friends in the court, who would certainly alert the High Priestess about the inadequacy of having such a disrespectful man as part of the Church's highest order!

The monk smirked, confusing Yamanaka. He couldn't imagine how anything he had said could have been perceived as funny.

“You seem like someone very knowledgeable on the matters of religion” the cleric told him. “How about I put that to a test? It'd help to pass the time, don't you agree?”

Yamanaka's annoyance dissolved as terror took over his being. He had heard stories about the ways the nameless monks tested people's faith through the centuries. In all those stories, he didn't remember about someone who had passed the test. The punishment for failing, as everybody knew, was excommunication. Was that monk really such a petty person, did that man have such a low soul, that he would get revenge over an innocent remark about wine? Especially when that cleric was the one in fault while Shigeo Yamanaka had never done anything wrong in his entire existence?

“Let's see...” the monk said. The amusement in his voice was undeniable, “what can you tell me about Justine the Great?”

Yamanaka relaxed. That should be the easiest question in the world. Maybe that cleric really just wanted to pass the time. Why did his imagination have to be that much of a burden?

“The first Empress was the mightiest warrior to ever live. She never lost a battle and conquered the entire Old Continent by the time she was 34 years old,” Yamanaka spoke with absolute confidence. “When she died, right after giving birth to her son Marius, it is said that pure white light rose from her body, marking her ascension to the Heavens. That consolidated the already popular belief that Justine was never an ordinary human, but a goddess incarnated. The only Goddess to ever bless our world!”

The monk laughed. Yamanaka was perplexed at the reaction. In the good old days, that lack of respect for the Goddess would demand death by fire!

“Such passion! Such faith! You remind me of myself when I was younger,” the monk told him.

“I am older than you!” Yamanaka stated. “In my very long life, I had never met anyone nearly as blasphemous as you, monk!”

“Is that so? How lucky must you be...” the cleric's voice suddenly became cold and low. Nervous, Yamanaka drank some of the wine that he had been offered.

“I had a blasphemous friend, once...” the monk said, gazing out of the window. “My sister and I rescued him from the sea, I remember he was too terrified to speak. We arranged a place for him at the Izumi farm, which was close to ours. Mr. and Mrs. Izumi were old and needed help... he said that he wanted to help people... back then, I believed in everything he said...”

“Why are you telling me about a random friend of yours?” Yamanaka inquired.

“Oh, my apologies...” the monk had irony in his voice, “is there something else you wish to discuss?”

“As a matter of fact, there is!” Yamanaka stated. “For instance, why hasn't any of my henchmen returned yet? How long could it take for them to hunt those damn rebels? You told me it would be an easy victory!”

“Your henchmen saw the Devil and ran away,” the monk informed. “They won't come to this place, but the revolutionaries will.”

“What did you just say?” Yamanaka believed that the other man had a strange sense of humor.

“You remind me of the Lord of Turtle Island we had when I was growing up, Shigeo...”

“Don't call me by my first name, young man!” Yamanaka scolded the other. “Does your insolence know no limits! This is definitely not the behavior I expect from a holy man!”

“When the plague came, that man didn't care about the people who were dying,” the monk continued his story, ignoring the other. “He hid behind the walls of his castle, praying that he could be spared...” his tone became increasingly darker, which sent chills down Yamanaka's spine, “I've always wondered what would have happened if at least he had tried to help... my parents... my sister... maybe they could've been saved. But that lord was a selfish pig who only had contempt for the people who served him. Just like you...”

“Now, that's enough!” Yamanaka roared. “I don't care about your rank! I'll denounce you to the Emperor himself! And the Emperor shall have the High Priestess excommunicate you! I'm from an important noble family and won't tolerate anyone disrespect-”

The monk took out a sword that had been concealed under his cloak and pointed it to the noble's direction. Yamanaka fell on his back. He hadn't let go of the glass of wine he had been holding, which had broken and was now cutting the palm of his hand.

Was he going to die? He had never seriously considered that anyone would have the nerve to spill the blood of a noble man like him. That was inconceivable! To kill a noble was to insult the Emperor! It was an insult to the Goddess herself! As a cleric, that man should know that better than anyone! Or did he think that, for being a nameless monk, he was entitled to disrupt the natural order of the world?

The monk approached him and put the tip of the sword on the old man's neck, who was shaking from the top of his head to his toes. He wanted to protest against the ignominy of it all. But, disgracefully, his self-preservation instinct seemed to have proven itself as stronger than his honor. Therefore, he begged:

“P-Please, don't k-kill me... I-I didn't mean to offend you in a-any way... I'll give you a-anything you w-want... I'll do a-anything...”

“Do you know what would be fun? What about we continue with our little test?” the assailant proposed in low voice. “Tell me about the Devil, Shigeo.”

Yamanaka knew that his life depended on him answering that right. Unfortunately, that knowledge only made him more anxious. All the things that he had learned about the subject were escaping his mind in great speed. Desperate, he tried to answer before he forgot what the question even was.

“T-The stealer of L-Light...” Yamanaka stuttered, “h-he t-tried to s-steal a s-soul from H-Heaven and g-got p-p-punished... c-cursed w-with i-infinite d-deaths...”

“That's the basic version of the story,” the monk commented. “The soul he tried to steal belonged to the kindest and sweetest person who had ever lived. When she was taken by the plague, I thought my life was over... but my friend...” he trembled, “he promised that he would help her... the next thing I knew, Justine herself was in front of me, and she told me...” a single tear was visible rolling down his cheek, “... she told me that my friend's sins had been so grave that it wasn't enough to just curse him. My sister, the one he had tried to rescue, was sent to the deepest dungeon in Hell. And the Goddess gave me the mission of purging Koushiro's soul until it's completely purified... I was to kill my best friend again and again, until his soul was saved... only then, she would release her... to save my sister, I have become the Angel of Death.”

At that point, Yamanaka was completely convinced that the cleric was out of his mind and lost hope that he could be able to reason with him.

“I believe the revolutionaries have arrived,” the monk announced, turning to the door of the living room. A muscular blond man and a woman with orange hair kicked the door open and entered the room, accompanied by five other people. They all were pointing their guns at Yamanaka, who was still on the floor, lying on his back. The blond man shot the monk twice. The bullets, however, stopped in midair. They turned incandescent and melted, never reaching their target.

“He really is invulnerable... just like Koushiro said...” the redhead woman murmured.

“I-Impossible!” another woman, with purple hair, exclaimed. She had a disturbed look on her face.

“What a lovely group you are,” the monk commented, bemused. “I don't feel like killing you tonight. It would be better to get out of my way.”

“You promised you would protect me!” Yamanaka shouted, desperate. “I did everything you told me to do, monk! You can't just leave me with those bandits!”

“Are you really that dense, Shigeo?” the monk asked, annoyed. “Were you paying attention to anything I said? I never intended to protect you! I simply used you to lure my friend to this place!”

The glass window behind the cleric and the noble was broken as six bullets, in sequence, were shot from the outside. The bullets were stopped by an invisible field surrounding the monk and, in a matter of seconds, they melted.

Astonished, Yamanaka watched as that strange man turned to the broken window, beaming. The monk took his hood off, allowing the wind to mess his large brown hair.

At the garden, outside the window, a man drenched in blood stood, still holding the shotgun.

“How many times did you die on your way here, Koushiro?” the monk inquired, jumping to the garden. “Honestly, you embarrass me at times. What was the big idea, anyway? You know you can't hurt me. Not physically, at least.”

“I was simply trying to get your attention,” Koushiro informed. “Sometimes, you can be so easily distracted...”

“You should know by now that nothing can distract me from you,” the other said, pointing his blade at Koushiro's direction. “Shall we dance, old friend?”

Koushiro looked at him with sadness and replied:

“What other choice do I have, Taichi?”

[snkpolls]

SnK Chapter 118 Poll Results

The chapter 118  poll closed with 1,311 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated.

Rate the Chapter 1,217 responses

“Sneak Attack” is the second highest rated chapter this year with only 1.2% expressing extreme unhappiness with the chapter.  The overwhelming majority (93.7%) rated it a 4 or 5 on our 1-5 scale.

A chapter I finally enjoyed with a lot of developments other than just Titan bashing. It would've been perfect if we also got some answers about Levi/Hange and Historia but well we can't have everything I suppose.

Finally got some great character development that is amazing payoff after all these years! The Shiganshina vets, Paradis Commanders, and Marley crew all had great moments!

Impressive how so many of the many many plotlines in the air were allowed some great development in just one, insane chapter.

I loved this chapter. I feel like shingeki is really at it's best when we have character moments and plenty of dialogue.

the chapter was too wholesome, I'm scared for next chapter

Which of the following was your favorite moment? 1,263 responses

“Mikasa leaving her scarf behind” has the slight majority, but only a few percentage points separate the top  choices. “Falco’s confession” and “Armin rallying everyone to Eren’s side” follow in second and third.

Mikasa is best girl, she is no ones slave ! I just need ch 119 now!

Go Go Mikasa!!!

I'm so into Armin having some kind of game plan and Mikasa moving forward.

I love this chapter. It was an action chapter but damn there were so many touching, human moments it made me so emotional. Connie outburst about being constantly betrayed (pls give this boy a break, he lost so much), Mikasa leaving the scarf behind, Nile helping Falco and speaking about his daughters, Grice bros reunion hug, FALCO'S CONFESSION, Zeke and Pieck still caring about each other.....

I'm so glad to see I was right about Onyankopon lying to Yelena because he had no other choice and still be loyal to the 104th and Hanji!!!

Well, better late than never; I am truly happy to see Mikasa’s development, being more independent.

WOW JEAN MY SON YOU'RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE

Who was this chapter’s MVP? 1,245 responses

Armin managed to claim the title of MVP this chapter, and it’s no wonder. Not only did he show some much-needed optimism regarding Eren’s current state, but he also chose to believe in Onyankopon’s sincerity regarding his lack of any awareness of the wine plot.

Honorable mention to Nile, who doesn’t show up in these polls often - but when he does he makes sure to give Armin a worthy adversary for the title of MVP. Best dad? Best dad.

A little insulted Yelena isn't an option for MVP, she is literally the ONLY interesting character this chapter

I believe in Armin. He is the understanding character who's really trying to understand things about Eren.

I believe in his statement that Eren's hatred towards Mikasa is a lie.

I love Jean. He is surely honest that he can't let Eren die and is willing to help.

Finally Armin puts it together for everyone

I'd say everybody was the MVP in this chapter: Onyan for being honest with AMJC Jean radiating bi energy towards Eren Mikasa for dropping her scarf Connie for being done with betrayal Nile for being a family man Pixis for admitting he drank too much Falco for confessing to Gabi Gabi for letting go of her prejudice AND OF FUCKING COURSE GENERAL MAGATH AND PIECK FOR MAKING THEIR MONKEY HUNT SUCCESSFUL HAHAHAHAHAHA

How dare you not have Yelena in the options for MVP! LOL but seriously woman is batshit crazy, u guys should have a "who did better" question comparing her psycho face with Armin's and Jean.

Nile deserves to live and see his family

Each of the commanding officers had a big moment. Whose did you enjoy the most? 1,252 responses

Nile may have only come in second place for MVP of the chapter, but most (64.5%) respondents thought that he had the best moment of any commander who made an appearance this time - taking care of Falco and helping to reunite him with his family. Pixis was a distant-runner up (17.3%), with Magath and Shadis nearly tied for third place with about 9% of the vote each.

Nile is best dad

Magath’s shot might have been my favorite moment if he hadn’t missed. >.<

I'd fight a bear just to save Shadis :((((

Seriously though, who is Shadis trying to impress?

This is gonna be long but OOF I cannot express enough how much I loved the little Shadis panel. Bless him.

Has Armin convinced Yelena of his loyalty to her cause? 1,264 responses

Armin seems to be acting like he’s on Yelena’s side once again, and her first reaction to his comments was visceral to say the least, but then she seemed to warm up.  57.9% of you think she’s rebutted acting with acting and is only pretending to give Armin her blessing, whereas only 15.4% think Armin’s Oscar worthy performance won her over.  26.7% don’t have a clue about what this crazy girl is thinking.

Yelena and Armin are both playing each other.

Yelena is CRACKERS and I love her.

Yelena isn't suspicious of Armin, just yandere levels of jealous that he will get to see the Jaeger on Jaeger action up close and personal

Yelena is so out of her mind it actually makes me think if there's something more to her?

Yelena gave me nightmares tho.

Yelena's crazy face scared the shit out of me.

yelena looks like she eats the gum underneath desks

Would knowing Falco drank spinal fluid deter Zeke from screaming? 1,263 responses

Well… 8% of the people who took this poll have a level of optimism that is truly admirable. The other 92% have far less trust in Zeke’s compassion and empathy, most leaning towards the “Hell no” category - that Falco’s wine ingestion wouldn’t even be a consideration if it came to it. Press F for Falco.

After he’s told Falco has ingested his spinal fluid. He’ll give a cold look and say “ah... I see. *inhale* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

When he learns about Falco's confession and screams because he doesn't want any Grice-Braun baby on his watch

I scream, you scream, we all scream for- Oh shoot Falco's a titan

Zeke screams when Zeke wants to

Do you think Nile will live to see his family again? 1,262 responses

Commander Nile Dok is one of the many citizens to have ingested the spinal fluid wine.  If they get transformed into titans, Nile would never get to see his wife Marie and their daughters again.  62.3% of you think he won’t reunite with them, while only 14.2% think he’ll see them again.  23.5% don’t know what they think his fate will be.

Nile deserves to live and see his family

Well, at least Nile and Pixis are goners for sure, but I still think that even if they are titanized, it isn't necessarily their end, because the power of the founder can be used to change the molecular structure of Titans, so if they don't die immediately Eren theoretically could turn them back into humans

please let nile see his family he's so underrated and he deserves it thank you mr. isayama

Which character’s feelings toward Eren best align with your own? 1,257 responses

Close to half the fandom agree with Armin that Eren is only doing this because he has no choice. In second place, almost a third agree with Jean’s “He’s a bastard but he’s cool.” The remaining ¼ of the fandom are divided between Mr. Braus (“Can we just head on home yet”) and Connie’s “I’m sick of being betrayed.”

Connie's anger is valid (fuck Eren)

Jean is out of character for part of it and I really hope that Armin has a secret plan to subdue Eren/at least get angry at Eren for all the shit he's put them through. Connie's right; Eren has been completely shitty and betrayed them even if he does it because he thinks he's saving them or something.

I'm glad Connie hasn't lost his ability to speak his mind, and is sick and tired of everyone's shit.

Armin wonders if Eren will use the rumbling to wipe out the world. What do you think? 1,249 responses

In this chapter, Armin thought back to Eren’s monologue at the ocean about killing everyone in the outside world. 56.2% of you don’t think that’s Eren’s goal at the moment, but that he would be willing to do it if push came to rumble. 20.1% think his end goal is in fact to flatten the earth, whereas 15.8% don’t believe Eren would ever do that in 2000 years.

ern got sneky plan up his slev

I think Eren intends to use the rumbling to destroy the world, but have confidence that Armin will be able to show him it's not the only way

Isayama has been making it so its not clear one way or the other. There are arguments for and against all of the options. I am waiting for a different plan altogether, but I would be fine with either way really.  

Eren himself will never do that. But if he is influenced by the memories of so many Attack Titan holders and the will to always move forward and fight, he probably will.

Eren will use the rumbling to deter the world, not destroy it unless he has to.

He'll use it but for a purpose we don't know about yet. Possibly a way related to the S1 miner story and the walls going deeper underground.

I think that Eren's ideology of being born into this world as a free person is something that isn't just applied to Eldians.  We know that Eren learned that those across the ocean are the same as those behind the walls.  Despite the hatred that parts of the world may have, I don't think Eren wants to take away the freedom of those who never knew any better.

The slight pause in Armin's expression seems to tell me there's more to what he's thinking! Not just rumbling  

I imagine we'll follow the time-loop theory and Eren will use the rumbling to rewrite (and rewind) the world to be one without any existence or recollection of titans. Or some weird shit like that.

Eren will turn all Eldian women into anime cat girls. That’s what I would do.

Do you think Armin is being genuine in his optimism about Eren? 1,248 responses

With all of the opinions on Eren floating around at the moment, Armin tries to convince the others that their friend isn’t on the side of evil.  The majority, at about 60% believe that Armin’s not positive of what he’s saying, but is trying to be optimistic.  32.5% think Armin truly believes Eren’s had no choice in what side he’s on.   Only 6.2% think Armin’s lying and tricking Yelena in that way.

He is being naive and basing his thoughts on his own perception of Eren. Or, he knows that Eren is up to something but needs to convince the others to work with Eren.

I think he’s pretending to support Eren to trick both the 104th and Yelena. The emotion he had after Eren hurt Mikasa was real,  no way he’s just over that. But I think it stands true that without Eren, Pradise’s fight would be lost. After everything that happened, though, why would the 104th want to help Eren? Thus Armin knew he would have to manipulate them (and Yelena, for other reasons) for the greater good in the end.

I'm not sure. He wasn't against feeding Eren to someone else if he rejected the SC and now he seems to stand behind him? I think he wants to play along until he knows the truth for sure.

He's deluding himself. He knows Eren is going to destroy the world but doesn't want to believe it.

Yes I believe so. Armin felt like he did not understand Eren anymore because his actions didn’t make sense. That was until Yelena expelled their plan to him in prison. I think that was the missing piece that solved Armin’s puzzle. He may not be certain about the exact plan Eren has but he has enough to go on that Eren would never agree to euthanise people.

I don't think he fully trusts Eren, but he knows that right now, whatever plan Eren has, keeping him alive will be best for Paradise's side. I think he definitely wants to see the good in Eren, but he also realises there might be darker motives in him, though he won't tell the others that in order to rally them properly.

He’s half trying to convince others that Eren is a liar, and half trying to convince himself. Armin just wants to understand, and I relate him.

*clenches fist* A C T I N G

Mikasa is leaving her scarf behind as she heads out for battle. How do you feel about that? 1,251 responses

The scarf coming off is a big moment for Mikasa, and most of us (59.7%) are optimistic that this is the beginning of some great development for her. For others (17.5%) the heartache is just too real. There was quite a bit of hopefulness in the write ins though!

MIKASAAAAAA <3 ok but... she's asking all the right questions!! putting away the scarf!!! thats my baby!!!

I was really excited about the scarf choice! I am not so much a fan of people misinterpreting what the scarf means though... Take a shot everytime you see someone say 'finally some development for mikasa'."

It keeps pushing along the development she has been receiving since the Time Skip. After her conversation with Eren, she more than likely associates it with the Ackerman Bond.  Her going out without is a statement that she's truly doing things by own will. Will it be the last time she wears it? I don't think so.

The scarf is her sanctuary and her cage. Leaving it behind is bittersweet and I think the next time she wears it (if she does so) it'll symbolize something totally new.

I want to see Eren's reaction to noticing Mikasa without her scarf

I'm glad that Mikasa decided to leave the scarf behind. She needs to live her life and become strong, independent, smart, mature woman. Being attached to Eren was only stopping her from her own growth. It doesn't matter if Eren was honest while saying about hating her. Mikasa is now opening her eyes and I hope that she will keep moving forward.

Mikasa removing her scarf leads into a perfect segway for Eren wrapping it around her again, as he promised in chapter 50. So I am actually quite excited for that as an Eremika fan, rather than worried.

Chekhov's scarf incoming.

I am more concerned about whatever the hell's going on inside Louise's head as she stares at that scarf.

Louise will take it for one reason or another.

The Marleyan's have new anti-titan rifles. Who will they be used on first? 1,239 responses

The anti-titan guns will no doubt be useful fighting the shifters but a slight majority of the fandom (36.7%) thinks the wine drinkers will be the first victims. 36.4% think they’ll be targeting one of the shifters first.

It’s taken 27 chapters, but Gabi has finally realized the people of Paradis are not devils. How do you feel about her character development? 1,257 responses

Gabi’s been in the story for quite a while now, and has finally come around to the idea that not all the walldians are evil devils.  Despite criticism of Gabi being a common sight, the majority of fans, at 37.8%, loved her development and are excited to see what she does next.  27.1% weren’t fans at first but have enjoyed her development, and 23.2% still don’t love her but she’s grown on them. Only 11.9% haven’t enjoyed anything Gabi’s had to offer the narrative.

Feeling validated in my love for Gabi, I'm so glad she finally reached this realisation!!

Granted, Gabi isn't nearly as bad as she was when she started, but her realization came way too late for me to feel anything for her. The damage at this point is already done, so I can't feel anything but complete disdain for her and could care less whether she lives or dies (though it seems like even now a lot of people are still rooting for the latter)

Gabi is best girl.

As expected from Gabi, so obvious and predictible "development " she is the proof that isayama isnt god, becouse everyone do mistakes. Worst manga character

I loved Gabi’s character development. I hope that she’ll do something useful in the next chapters.

I couldn't possibly care less about Gabi's "development". My interest/investment in this series died when Gabi killed Sasha and Isayama started painting the SC as "the bad guys". I didn't sign on for this BS.

I'm glad that Gabi had her moment of realization. It's easy to forget that she's just a child, brought up to believe certain things, and it's coming to that realization that matters the most.

Loved gabi’s character development so so much which i was waiting for. I’d call this chap kind of a heartwarming one in many ways. can’t wait for ch119.

How cute was Falco’s confession? 1,251 responses

In the midst of battle, Falco confesses his feelings to the girl of his dreams, one Gabi Braun.  Over half of you (52.1%) gave this confession a 5/5 on the cuteness scale.  25.6% rated 4 cute blushes out of 5, 14.1% were right in the middle at 3, and only 8.3% rated it negatively.

Falco is so pure.... WHAT A GOOD BOY.

Gabi and Falco's scene this chapter really hit me. So much beauty and heart. I feel like the story would miss something without them, aside from their relevance to the plot.

The Gabi-Falco moment wasn't that important to me since I literally just don't feel any particular attachment to the characters, but it WAS important to the story and it needed it happen.

Falco's confession was too cute and pure... oh my god I AM WEAK FOR YOUNG LOVE.

I loved Falco's confession and how him and Gabi were staring at each other at the end of the chapter. They were just so fucking cute.

Wow, for once I found myself having fun with this chapter instead of stressing out. Also, I DIED when Falco confessed to Gabi, that was the cutest scene I've witnessed since 108 and I couldn't have asked for a better birthday chapter. Thanks, Isayama!

Gabi and Falco are getting too much attention but their moments were cute nonetheless.

Falco is sooo cute! Loved that confession scene.

IM OFFICIALLY A GABI STAN, FALCO IS A CUTIE

Is there a chance Falco and Gabi will get married and live happily ever after? 1,260 responses

In a series as upbeat and cheerful as this, a happy ending for a young couple is certain!  Right?  RIGHT? 45.2% know the series they’re reading and are bracing for the worst form Isayama, and another 36.6% doubt it will end up all rainbows and smiles for this blossoming romance. 14.8% are holding out hope that it’s possible, and only 3.3% don’t think those little snots deserve a shot at happiness.

As cute as Falco's confession was, how is he going to marry Gabi and give her a happy life if he's going to inherit the Armored and then die in 13 years anyway?

Falco's confession was like a drop of purity and innocence in this cruel world. I wish they could live happily. That would be beginning of something new and hopeful.

Now when I say "they don't deserve a happy ending", I'm really just referring to Gabi. Falco deserves nothing but the best.

I'm also glad Gabi is finally awake, idk how I feel about Falco being some weird scapegoat shield foil for her (taking the hits every single time she gets herself into trouble), but I don't think her character development has peaked yet. She's too much of a parallel to Eren to be done already.

Bless Falco, he is just too pure for this cruel world... or maybe he is just what this cruel world needs.

Romances never end well in this series but somehow I hope that this one can come to fruition. I’ll be hurt if Falco actually dies. Maybe that’s what it means to suffer as a braun.

Can't wait for next chapter. PROTECT FALCO, COLT AND GABI AT ALL COST.

When will Zeke scream? 1,246 responses

A solid 35% of the fandom believe Zeke will only scream if he’s totally cornered by enemy troops. Following behind that at 26.4%, respondents feel that he will be doing it immediately in the next chapter. 20.5% think it will happen if and when he is torn out of his titan by an enemy soldier. A small sliver of respondents don’t think it will actually happen.

As soon as he steps on that Lego

Once he notices the people with balck arm bands who are gathered in the front line as pixis ordered, it will be his only salvation... again.

Depends on how bad the interference gets between him and Eren. He panics whenever things don’t go his way and that would be enough of a distraction to reach Eren. Although once they titanise they will also try to eat any surrounding shifters excluding Eren because of Zeke’s influence. It’s a reliable last resort for him.

If Eren gets to him and does his own plan. Once Zeke realizes Eren didn't uphold to the euthanasia plan, he'll scream

The only way he won’t scream is if Armin transforms and turns the tide of the battle. It seems that Zeke is only going to scream as a last resort, but if the battle doesn’t shift back in his favor soon, then he will for sure. I think it’s on Armin at this point.

Not if Eren has a say in it. For all he knows the 104th are still in the building, along with anyone infected that he cares about. If Zeke tries to scream, I feel that Eren will somehow stop him.

Will the Rumbling be activated in this battle? 1,244 responses

66.6% of respondents (is this an omen?) feel that we will at least see a partial rumbling during this battle. 23.4% feel solid about Eren not activated it at all, and the remaining 10% of respondents feel sure that Eren is going to unleash the big guns.

Destroying the world would be too simple. Eren might try to use the wake up call and make people to see that everyone is the same.

I'm still unsure whether this battle will lead to a full or partial rumbling. There are characters who are still missing the call: Kiyomi, Historia, Hitch, Annie…

I don't think Eren is going to activate the rumbling when he touches Zeke. I think he has something else up his sleeve.

Is it wrong that I WANT the Yeagerbros to use the Rumbling? It will basically wipe out the rest of the outside world that has done nothing but persecute Eldians and try to exterminate the protagonists. I see nothing wrong with this 'genocide' plan of theirs.

Eren using the rumbling to destroy the rest of the world makes no sense, especially after what he told Reiner and the fact that it’s what everyone assumes he wants to do.

Zeke is now close enough to titanize those infected by the wine. Do you think he'll do it? 1,251 responses

Reflective of the earlier question about when Zeke will scream (we may not have realized we got a little redundant, oops!), the majority of the fandom believe that Zeke will definitely titanize the wine infected Eldians in the area. A small 11% have faith that he won’t do it.

Zeke stop being such a retard already and let's get to the good stuff! The rumbling the scream! Come on dude!

I both want Zeke to scream for cool storytelling but I don’t because I love the people who would be affected

Zeke screaming is too predictable, same with falco becoming a titan shifter, I will be a little disappointed if isayama does that

Is this the final battle? 1,252 responses

While a third feel that this is climactic enough to constitute the finale, a clear majority (68.1%) feel certain that there is still more to come after this battle

This can’t be the final arc because it doesn’t really feel like the strongest arc. Isayama would make the final arc amazing

We're in the endgame now

If this is really the final battle I worry it'll be rushed. Mikasa only just started her development to "get free" from Eren and Armin still hasn't lived up to Erwin's legacy. Then there's Hange and Levi, who I still hope to see in action again. Same for Annie. If we don't get to see female titan in action one last time, I'll be disappointed. Not sure how can that happen, since she's still back in Wall Sheena (and I hoped Armin would see her wake up), but please...

Prediction time! Death flags are everywhere, who do you think will die in this battle?

Unlike the other groups in this section of the poll, a few hundred people chose not to make any selections for the Survey Corps, expressing confidence that they will all survive this battle.

When we look at combined results, the death flags are waving most prominently for Floch (741 votes), the senior military (650), Reiner (598), Connie (594), Porco (588), and Yelena (583).

Senior Military 1,196 responses

When Nile waved goodbye at Falco, it wasn't just meant for him. It was also meant for us. This chapter really felt like this is the last we will see of Nile as a human. The next time we see him, he will be a Titan for sure.

My heart breaks for Keith. He also drank from the wine, so he´s a goner? What do you guys think?

Survey Corps 916 responses

As much as I love Jean, it really hurts  me that I chose him and Connie as the next characters in the Survey Corps that will die, because it feels like they will.  I really hope I'm wrong.

Connie will die soon, mark my words.

I didn't really catch any death flags for the survey corps? Maybe hange or levi but that's it

Jaegerists/Volunteer 1,133 responses

if floch dies next chapter many extremely manly tears may be shed for that lovable nutter

Can Zeke just die? It's been 3 times he survived from death. It makes it predictable

I don't want Zeke to die, I don't want Zeke to be betrayed by Eren. Eren, please... My heart is breaking.

Marleyans 1,150 responses

I have huge soft spots for both Nile and Falco and am in denial about their eventual fate :(

pieck must never die

I hope Reiner doesn't join Berthold just yet

reiner must die

It’s really great seeing Pieck get more spotlight, now all I need is her last name, and I can accept her probable death

If my boi Reiner were to die I'd drop the manga

Which titan power do you think Falco will inherit? 1,204 responses

Will all of Falco’s warrior training pay off now that he’s in a situation where he might become a titan?  The most popular option at 55.4% is that he’ll inherit Reiner’s armored titan.  26.7% don’t think he’ll end up becoming a shifter at all. The Jaw and Beast were the next most popular choices, at 7.9% and 6.9% respectively.

The stage is set for Falco to inherit Reiner's titan.

I know the prevailing theory is that Falco will eat Reiner and get his power (and it'll probably happen too) but something about letting a kid inherit Ymir's curse all over again doesn't quite sit right with me. Like what Eren said: Falcon deserves a long life too. But I guess it's better than being titanized by Zeke's scream and shot by one of those guns.

No Colossus option? C'mon.

What would you most like to see next chapter? 1,219 responses

Levi and Hange top the wish list with just over one fourth of the fandom (21.7%) hoping for an update on their condition. Eren and Zeke touching is second (17.6%) and Eren noticing his friends in the fray is third (16.2%).

Annie will reappear, DRINKS ON ME

I fucking hope Eren and Zeke touch bc damn this chapter seemed to be so short and we’ve been eating for so long.

Glad to see Jean mentioning Levi & Hange, makes me expect (and fear) that they will be included in the next chapter.

Hange and Levi plz

I hope we can get a glimpse of Eren's thought. I need his perspective more, more than anyone else's. And last but not least, Levi's condition.

I'm excited to see the gang join the battle

I'm genuinely at a point where this whole 'mystery MC motives' thing is making me want to drop the series for a while. Please just rip the bandaid off if Eren is going to be a legit ~villain~ or whatever, stop dragging this out for so long.

With this being the last chapter of the current volume now would be a perfect time to check in on levi and hange's conditions and perhaps could pace the way for some good angsty chapters that eventually lead to them two coming into this battle with a brilliant game changing fighting strategy (maybe some hange backstory too if we are lucky enough like cmon its the final arc and hanges the only main cast that hasnt had any hint of a background)

Eren and Zeke touching lol phrasing

At this point, around which chapter do expect the manga will conclude? 1,163 responses

Not a whole lot has changed here since last month, but we had a slight increase in the percentage of respondents that think 130 or 134 will be the final chapter of the manga. The percentage of people who believe the manga will continue to chapter 138 or beyond has stayed about the same. Similarly, the people who think the manga will end at chapter 122 or 126 are hanging in there - and it doesn’t seem like they have been convinced otherwise.

Where do you primarily discuss the series? 1,141 responses

While Reddit and Tumblr hold steady, Facebook has been making tiny gains in recent months. Thank you again to everyone who participated, regardless of what platform you are on! If you are on an underrepresented platform, please feel free to share the poll there.

Additional thoughts on the chapter?

Some of you have never been brainwashed by an evil regime and it shows.

I ache for Nile, we misjudged him, he is such a sweetheart with his three little girls! <3 I have a bad feeling he'll die, but I really, really hope he survives this, because from *his* original trio, he's the only one left. Mike and Erwin are gone. :(

A lot of people think Armin only function in this arc is just to blow up and follow Eren's game but I think he is going to become the third option in this conflict, as soon he confirms his fears about Eren true intentions with rumbling.

As for the titan serum wine victims, maybe they won't be affected if they don't hear Zeke's scream if they cover their ears hard enough

AVENGE YOUR SISTER, KAYA! DESTROY THE HATED ONE!

Eren is a shit. Who puts his friends and family of dead friend into a prison together with potential titans? If someone from Sasha's family dies because they were locked in Shingashina, Eren will be officially the worst person ever and I will root for his terrible and painful death.

Eren looked so pretty in that last panel

EREN PLEASE- DO SOMETHING. SAVE THE KIDDOS.

Finally the story is starting to progress again after months of nothing really happening that builds the story. Finally we are getting answers without getting anymore questions. This is a lot less infuriating than previous chapters have been.

i feel like there is going to be a lot of deaths tho since we are in for a large scale battle, mainly with all the people that consumed the wine.  but i still think  Hizuru will come into play here and in a dangerous way.  

I just hope a happy ending for everyone (or most of them) but knowing isayama, I will read happy endings only in fanfiction

I like Gabi now

I hope Mikasa realizes she’s NOT a slave and Eren’s Ackerman talk was bullshit. Ackermans are the most free ppl in this series

I wish for Eren not to turn like a villain, I want him to keep his same goals from the very beginning and save his friends, the Eldians, and unite them with Marley all together. I hope he can team up with Reiner and defeat Zeke. Most of all, I would like Mikasa to break her bonds she has with Eren and live for herself. And for Armin, to free Annie with the help of the Survey Corps and Reiner with Porco together so that Annie could fight on the right side for once, then return home peacefully.

If Armin isn't lying I'll eat one (1) entire issue of Bessatsu Shounen Magazine.

It didn’t focus as much on the fights as last time, focusing more on how the characters are being affected by the fight

It was amazing and it felt a bit more hopeful than the other chapters. But since it is supposed to be the last arc, something big will happen for sure and i am not ready XD!

Mikasa does not wear the protective shields. Foreshadowing? My Eekstinct tells me she is going to be injured in this battle and then Kiyomi makes a move that shock everyone, drags Mikasa away and keeps her promise of protecting her.    And then Hizuru arc begins EEEEEEEEK

Needs more Annie and Historia but still a 10/10. Should be 11/10 though.

One of the greatest cliffhangers ever. It created such a conflicting feeling in me. If Zeke doesn't die asap, he is going to scream. If he does, Eren won't be able to activate the rumbling to defeat Marley. It's two terrible results.

People could use some pointers from Yelena and stop looking at Eren as this messiah-like figure who is here to bring world peace or balance or any of that stuff. Eren doesn't fight for the world, he never did. He fights for the freedom of him and his people and if flattening the earth gets him that then so be it. After all, he will keep moving forward, until his enemies are destroyed.

Probably my favorite chapter out of the last year! I thought it was going to be more action heavy but there were so many touching character moments and I absolutely loved it for taking its time to touch on almost everyone

This is like the 4th time in 5 chapters that Zeke is on the brink of death and my poor heart can only take so much ;-;

Unpopular Opinion (don't kill me), I feel that Pieck is such a Mary Sue.  I get that she is highly skilled among the Warriors, but she has seriously only had one "mistake" since her introduction (Panzer Unit explosion).  Other Warriors such as Reiner, Bortolo Colon, even Zeke have suffered multiple beat downs throughout the story.  I just want her to not feel as invincible at times, as it seems she's always one step ahead.

We’ve heard little to nothing about Eren’s philosophy and state of mind since after the time jump (and even after the RTS arc ended), I think we’re in for some info soon enough

Yelena is the representation of all the creepy fangirls who just wanna protecc their otp change my mind

Well, if I wasn't right about anything else, I was right in that shit has completely gone down. Probably one of my favorite chapters in the whole manga.

With so many airships this month cant we just rename Attack on Titan to Attack on Airships ? :D

[capmerthur]

THE BODY SWAP

Summary:

It’s all in the title :) Somewhere end S1 (after Labyrinth, but pre Morte). In a land of myth, and a time of magic, Arthur awakes inside Merlin’s body (and no, not in that way). Alternating Merthur POV, bonus Gaius, bit of George. 

(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDER THE CUT... )

III. DISABLED (MERLIN POV)

But soon, Merlin is terrified.

And not because of the puzzling body swap.

*HE HAS NO MAGIC!?*

(Not that Merlin knows of any spell to reverse their current situation at once, mind you; so he doesn't actually try anything about it. But Merlin simply knows: there is nothing but blood running through his veins now - no vigorous warmth, no energic flow; there is simply nothing singing under his placid flesh, as he focuses on it.)

He cannot help but wish he's wrong though, and desperately tries to move a quill on Arthur's desk behind Arthur's back - the simplest of things, really; yet he fails, indeed...

His magic is tied to his body. Not to his mind.

No, no, no, no, nooooooooooo.

So. Merlin is, to his core, *terrified* - as he has never been. Not only because he feels more powerless and utterly helpless than he has ever felt - and worse, unable to protect Arthur! But also because the longer Arthur stays in his body, the more chances he has to find out that he has magic!? (And even though Merlin has nearly told Arthur, once? He is still not ready for him to know right now... Will after all didn't lie to protect Merlin's secret on his deathbed for Merlin to take chances with his life so soon after...)

Merlin though decides to push his panic aside for the moment: he simply MUST focus. No matter which sorcerer has this week decided to deal with the Pendragon line once and for all, Arthur's life is undoubtedly in the balance; and that's dearer to Merlin than all the magic in the world - included his own.

Because Merlin's life *has* tilted, on that rocky beach by The Great Seas of Meredor.

Merlin's earnest readiness to lay his life down to save Arthur's had been instinctive, beyond doubt visceral; and the concrete force of the impulse had surprised him. Because it hadn't been related to his first supposed then anyway indeed wished upon destiny. It had merely been a reflex, a spontaneous reaction: what he had wanted to do; more than what he ought to do. And Merlin had realized right then that he had, somehow, but undeniably, actually come to *LOVE* Arthur?

It shouldn't have been such a shocking revelation though. Sure, Arthur could be a spoiled, royal prat; an irritating, pompous ass; an arrogant, moronic bully - to list but the top of the iceberg of his massive shortcomings, and without even mentioning the complete dollophead he could sometimes be. But Arthur could also be truly brave, honest, and kind; willing not only to trust but also to actually defend the words of mere servants, ready to defy his father's orders in order to save a child's life, and volunteering to help a village not even belonging to his Kingdom, to note only a few examples. Also: at some point, Merlin had realized how what could at first appear as near manhandling tactility was in fact just Arthur's disguised way to show (or ask?) affection (because one probably just doesn't walk around asking for cuddles while growing up between Uther's judging cold glares and Morgana's sharp witty tongue; and the physical playfulness of the knights training must have seemed like the only way to go...). And last but not least: Ealdor owed Arthur its renewed safety. And Merlin owed Arthur his life - if Arthur hadn't gone looking for a Mortaeus flower... So, in short: of course Merlin had gotten fond of the man. Notwithstanding how so annoyingly beautiful he always was (for the record on that particular subject: Gwen is so adorably beautiful, and Morgana so petrifyingly beautiful).

But, as Arthur - bound to be King one day Arthur - hadn't even hesitate before choosing to sacrifice himself in order to fix his error instead of using the (even offered) life of a simple servant? Well... There is a difference still between having the conviction that Arthur is a good man ready to fight for the greater good, even knowing it could be his death; and knowing as a FACT that Arthur *is* ready to die for the greater good, even knowing it *will* be his death. And you bet having been proven *exactly* how pure of heart Arthur intrinsically is has only cemented that burgeoning love deeper into Merlin's heart - simply; truly; and maybe irrevocably. Merlin would now willingly die a thousands deaths to save his Prince.

.

(Feel free to shout with me about 1.11 because *MAJOR FEELS*!)

(And then hug me as I shamelessly cry because this is still NOTHING next to what's to come - aka Arthur becoming ACHINGLY beautiful, as Merlin turns ready to KILL a thousands times to save his King, blackening his own heart in the process and thinking himself then unworthy of Arthur's love because Arthur is just so BRIGHT; but wishing for it nonetheless?)

.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDER THE CUT:

I. AWAKING (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur awakes; lying on his back - unusual - and rolls over automatically.

He surprisingly falls, down, hard; and jerks fully awake now - on the floor, near a so very tiny bed, tangled in an unknown blanket (harsher than his standards, even while on errands, he can't help but notice).

In disbelief, he eyes his surroundings...

Where is he? Has he been abducted?

Think, he admonishes himself - trying to clear his mind; to remember what must have happened, to guess who has dared to commit such an act, and, most important of all right now: Find a way out.

His eyes then suddenly meet Merlin's, and relief surges through him somehow - before his anxiety returns; and double: because poor faithful, loyal Merlin has obviously been taken too; and it's Arthur's fault - he must have failed to save them both from being taken, even though he cannot remember anything...

Except when Arthur reaches out to Merlin, he realizes with fright but indeniable certainty that Merlin is in fact a reflection in a mirror; and worse: *HIS* reflection!?

It his NOT his hand indeed that is stretching out in front of him; NOT his clothes on his person; and definitely NOT his own hair falling upon his eyes, as he notices the black strings in his vision range...

Arthur is dumbstruck. He sees Merlin's mouth shaping a silent O, and he sees the dread in Merlin's eyes... except they ARE - he feels - *his* mouth, and *his* eyes; and everything is just plainly wrong, and plainly impossible - but undeniably REAL.

He is... Merlin? Or better said, *inside* Merlin? How can such a thing have even come to be?

Sorcery, Arthur understands with horror: Camelot is under attack!

But now armed with the knowledge of his predicament, Arthur realises he is actually in Merlin's bedroom. He's been in here before, once; and he recognises it all now.

So. Not abducted. All things considered, that still counts as something, right...

And, as it surely doesn't feel as if Merlin is still somewhere in his own head too while Arthur is inside of it, well... Maybe? Logically? Merlin might then be in return inside his own body?

Arthur suddenly finds himself praying for this to be true. It would be for the best, if Merlin was in his body - if they were the only ones concerned by this unnatural situation; because what if *everyone* was awaking inside someone else's body this morning? That would be... precarious - the general panic leaving Camelot completely vulnerable to whoever must have plotted this? The worst though would be if the one responsible for this was right now in control of his body, and acting as Crown Prince to do, well, evil deeds... So yes, you bet Arthur truly wants to find Merlin to be the one inside his own body when he finally finds it.

Arthur jumps on his feet, ready for action. Luckily (even though Arthur feels a bit guilty, as he notices his armour in pristine state against the opposite wall - apparently Merlin has been polishing it late into the night then) Merlin hasn't bothered to undress before falling asleep.

So. First thing first: he has to go to his chamber.

Picking some weapon on the way for good measure, you bet ...

/ / /

Simply walking the few paces to open the door though turns out to be a challenge. His limbs are too long, and dangly; it feels like he has two left feet, and he has to try thrice before actually getting a grip on the handle - because he isn't used to this body, of course - but maybe it is truly NOT Merlin's fault if he falls over his own feet that often after all...

Gaius is already out - hopefully looking for herbs and not wandering out of his mind... Arthur would have preferred to be able to test right away his theories about how many people were affected by the damn body change; but unfortunately, it would have to wait some more.

The corridors are empty too, except for a stray black cat who walks at his side a full minute, which has Arthur questioning himself about asking to the cat if he *is* Merlin - because Merlin HAS to be somewhere, right, as he obviously isn't where he should be to start with; but then the cat takes another turn... Arthur feels stupid for worrying so much about his silly manservant - but he cannot deny that he definitely will worry less only after having indeed finally found said silly manservant.

Arthur relaxes slighthly though when he enters the kitchen: people are working as usual, apparently not in shock, apparently in their right bodies. He picks up the first tray he finds, along with an extra knife that he hides in his pocket for good measure.

He tries to put on a confident grin as he walks (with the most assurance he can muster in this awkward-feeling body) towards the guards at his bedroom's door - and can only hope it will look the same as usual to them. They let him pass without trouble, and Arthur isn't sure it's a good thing. On the one hand, he *doesn't* doubt Merlin - he simply, intrinsically doesn't; and would never want him to feel like he did if his guards were to search him whenever he was about to enter his chamber. On the other hand... well, it isn't Merlin right now entering his chamber, with knifes at the ready... This time, it's only him; but what if it happens again, and if the one then inside Merlin's body has ill intentions...

Deciding not to dwell on this for the time being, Arthur opens the inside door to his bedroom, hoping to find Merlin doing whatever Merlin always does, but preparing for a fight, if need be...

II. AWAKING (MERLIN POV)

Merlin awakes as if in a cocoon; literally. He is surrounded by softness, flush, warmth; he cannot remember ever feeling so comfortable - and the world can wait for just another few seconds before he opens his eyes, right... Merlin wriggles, shifting on his back, sighing softly as he nestles some more into the cushions...

When Merlin awakes for the second time - culpability sinking in as he realizes he has overslept - his eyes open to a Pendragon red canopy he would recognize even among hundreds. Merlin freezes: what the hell is he doing, sleeping IN ARTHUR'S BED?!

Merlin sits upright at once - blankets falling all around him to reveal that he wears ARTHUR'S NIGHTGOWN too ?!

Whaaaaaaaat?!

This... just DOESN'T make any sense. The last thing he can remind is sitting on his own bed, polishing the last bit of Arthur's armour before letting himself fall down to sleep (*AN). He surely doesn't recall walking to Arthur's chamber, and even less...

Oh my... What is Arthur going to think? And come to think of it - true panic now creeping down on Merlin at that thought: *WHERE* is Arthur to start with?

His attention is drawn out right then by Arthur calling out his name (Merlin feels relief, no matter his current embarrassing situation) - in one of those thousands yet unmistakably always Arthurian ways to say his name: a myriad of moods and meanings in those simple two syllables - the voice sounding odd though this morning (is Arthur sick?), and tensed (well, he just found his manservant in *his* bed, that might explain it!).

Merlin turns to face his sovereign, trying to feel less self conscious because he mustn't look guilty, while wishing for inspiration, and buying time until it hits: "There is actually a perfectly valid explan-"

But it is NOT Arthur he sees: it is... himself? His breath catches as 'utter confusion' gets a new meaning, you bet...

At the same moment, Merlin notices suddenly just how *not his* his voice just sounded, and how he's wearing a very particular ring around one finger of what's NOT his hand, and how *blond* hair is falling upon his eyes... And still nothing makes sense; but at least it *does* explain how he awoke in Arthur's bed in Arthur's clothes: he *is* Arthur?; and... Arthur... is him? MUST be him. He has been calling him right the right way, right?!

"Arthur?" Merlin barely dares to breathe out, both in wonder and in plea (because Arthur CANNOT be gone - the fear and pain and simple *impossibility* of such a concept slicing through Merlin's mind like a knife).

There is a bright smile then appearing on his face - a smile that doesn't entirely look like his own though - "Yes, Merlin. It's me," followed by a relieved sigh: "And it's you". And, despite the shock about them having apparently switched bodies (?!?!), Merlin can't help but feel warm all over - because Arthur (and yes, it is so clearly Arthur, even in HIS body!) has apparently been worried about him.

(*AN) Headcanon time :

Merlin uses magic to clean Arthur's armour in the beginning, indeed. And he still uses magic for most of the chores, as much as he can, of course (washing clothes, mending clothes, emptying chamber pots, sweeping fireplaces, preparing baths, refreshing beds, cleaning floors, cleaning everything, really (except for mucking the stables, because there are always others around, grrrr). But he quickly grows nearly *maniac* about Arthur's food (picking at it as a way to make sure it's not poisoned etc...) and about Arthur's armour: it's one of Arthur's protections - so you bet Merlin definitely cleans and polishes and repairs and oils the leather ligaments that hold it together and EVERYTHING the hell out of it, with extra ardor and fervor, with his own two hands, all the while continuously trying to put on it any protecting spells he ever finds, and repeating those over and over at each occasion...

Also: I know mirrors were not so advanced at the time… But Merlin has an enhanced one, after all he has magic right… And on a side note, I’m never going to be over Arthur’s priority-thinking (I’m in trouble = CAMELOT IS UNDER ATTACK (babyyyy let me hold you - being Camelot Prince/King is NOT your only worth) and Merlin’s priority-thinking (what the hell is happening = WHERE THE HELL IS ARTHUR (babyyyy let me hold you - your devotion to The (brave, kind, admirable (shut up Merlin)) Prat doesn’t have to mean that you always must come second (and a bit self-preservation cannot be harmful)) *SIGH* I just love those two idiots so much !!!

[thesportssoundoff]

A word on the ole elephant in the Barclay’s Center

Joey

Jan 15th

So I was working on my card write up for the UFC's ESPN debut and there's obviously a big elephant in the room regarding the co-main event. There's plenty of things I wanted to say or believe in saying and it was taking attention away from the card. It was getting way too long and so I figured I'd just do a separate bit on the entire situation. It's probably going to be a bit messy and perhaps a touch convoluted but I'm hoping that I can at least get some concepts out here. It's my "job" on here to be kind of rational and fair. Gonna put it under the read more just in case some people don't want a big wall of text given I've got ANOTHER wall of text coming re: actual fight business.

I want to begin with an irritable point of contention I have about not so much Greg Hardy but of a fake concept in MMA some people keep clinging to. Guys if I could, I would love to shout this to the heavens: There is NO such concept in MMA as earn nor deserve. Nobody earns anything and nobody deserves anything. We've seen it a million times now. Earn and deserve are fake in this sport and the longer we continue to believe in it, the more irritating it gets. There is no earn. There is no deserve.  There is truly no meritocracy here and the UFC has shown us that time and time again. Asking if Greg Hardy has "earned the right to be on the first ever ESPN card?" Idiotic. What has Alonzo Menifield done? Chance Rencountre? Who determines who has "earned" such an honor? Okay who determines who deserved it? The same company that felt has bent its unofficial playbook for dudes like Jon Jones and Conor McGregor? Think of all the fighters who have "earned" title shots and had them taken away or fighters who deserved spots on a main card only to be buried on the prelims due to their fighting style or in some cases whether or not their contract was expiring. I hate to be the dickhead here but we need to stop debating earn and deserve because it's fake. Combat sports make it fake and then revel in us getting tied up about something they don't care about.

Keeping with that point, remember that at the end of the day everybody has the same moral compass. The goal with this show is to get a rating and get ESPN+ subs and I'm 100% sure that if ESPN felt Greg Hardy on the first card was a problem they would've stopped it. ESPN has the authority and the say so here and yet here we are with him still on the card. Every organization has the same moral compass; they're all trying to sell you something. I had this conversation on the DojoTalkPodcast pertaining to the idea of asking forms of entertainment to handle issues they're ill-equipped to deal with---primarily because it collides with the end result of making money. Random guess that ESPN and the UFC had a meeting about it, the UFC said "We think he can generate X amount of interest" and so ESPN sucked it up and went with it. Greg Hardy is probably the second biggest story on this card for better or worse and to be honest if there's interest being driven? It's him. The show looks like it's on path to sell out so it's not like Greg Hardy is sending people away. Again all promotions are trying to make money here and if that means having to buddy up with a guy like Greg Hardy, that's what they'll do in the long run. If this truly irks you then understand that you have plenty of people to get mad at; not just the UFC here. All parties, all involved.  They all dug deep into this together and so here we are.

I object to the idea that Greg Hardy is getting a second chance. It's really more like a third chance and potentially even a fourth if we're being honest. Greg Hardy was talented enough at Ole Miss to be a 1st round pick and wound up going in the 6th round because teams had genuine concerns over his character and work ethic. That's chance one. Chance two came in Carolina where he worked himself up into a potential major payday and then he screwed himself over with the DV incident. In a sympathetic NFL, Hardy could've come back with a bigger long term payday had he just kept himself out of trouble in Dallas. As a Cowboys fan, I can tell you there were heavy rumblings toward the end of the year that he was toxic and divisive that the Cowboys were thinking of cutting him before December was out. Chance three. Hardy was essentially blackballed from the NFL despite his talent level and his response to this was to eventually get arrested for cocaine possession and other offenses. The UFC is not a second chance for Greg Hardy to earn big money. Maybe it's a second chance from a spiritual or personal perspective but I'm not even sure that fits either. Greg Hardy is what he is; a troubled yet talented individual who has historically not learned from his mistakes. To a fault, I'm really big on second chances and multiple chances for people because human beings are faulty machines who make mistakes and absolutely in my opinion capable of learning and improving. At the same time, I do not in any way shun people who don't believe this person is capable of fixing himself or making good on the repeated opportunities his talent allows. They have history on their side.

It's possible to A) feel as though Greg Hardy being on the same card as PVZ/Rachael Ostovich is tone deaf and B) be ultimately okay with is so long as Ostovich is okay with it. I wouldn't of done it, think it's borderline arrogant and invites unwanted controversy but if the person or people most likely to be impacted by it are fine with it then it's whatever I guess. This feels like a self inflicted wound from an organization that has enough scars from its own stubborness/arrogance.

HAVING SAID THAT, let's address a problem MMA has to find a way to correct and I suppose the same goes for combat sports as a whole. We totally need to find a way to get around the "I'm paying/watching to see you lose" aspect of things. Greg Hardy is here probably 50% in part that there's a bloodthirsty audience willing to wait and wait for the day when he eventually loses. It's that weird primal urge people have that feeds the not so good aspects of human nature. It also creates situations like this where people get mad about something, wait for what they feel is the karmic payoff and if it happens then it's this big pop. The problem is this isn't pro wrestling where we can script who wins and loses and so a bunch of folks who want that release get stifled and it turns ugly. I remember Rumble fights being like that; primarily because people who were so vehemently opposed to him would tune in or pay money to see him lose and then break down when he wouldn't. There's something really unhealthy about that aspect of combat sports and the longer it keeps working and promoters can manipulate it, the longer we're going to have to deal with all of this.

Feels pretty cop out-y to not say if I'm watching or not. I'll be watching on Saturday for a variety of reasons. The first is I promised Alex I'd cover just about every UFC card I could and to this date I think I've missed three; one for a power outage, one because I couldn't see after eye surgery and a third because I was sick (and even then I jumped in halfway through). I'm not going to let Greg Hardy force me to slack on what I said I'd do. I'll also be watching because it's a damn good card and I'm excited to see a lot of it. I also do, and I hate to tell people this knowing the response, think Greg Hardy is going to be a serious thing in this HW division when all is said and done. Will he be good enough to win a title? Probably not. I have SERIOUS doubts he stays out of trouble long enough to not even make it two years into the UFC. That said he's my Adrien Broner I guess; I wanna see how good he is before he capsizes himself. Lastly? This is combat sports. No form of entertainment outside of maybe the music industry forces people to separate artist from person so repeatedly. It often times asks us to stomach some pretty rough people in exchange for the violence they put into the cage or the ring. I've been on here for waaaaaaaaaay too long; long enough to have covered fights with people like Thiago Silva, Abel Trujillo, Rumble and so on so forth. I mean hell Floyd Mayweather Jr! Guys like Bernard Hopkins, Travis Browne, Jon Jones, Rumble Johnson all have their personal warts often displayed in the public's eye and yet we still watch their fights because....well we're addicted. Greg Hardy I guess isn't enough to get me to quit cold turkey on MMA.  Hell look at it this way, the alternative for Saturday if you're a combat sports fan is a battle between a guy who seems to get arrested once a year (Adrien Broner) and a guy who has some pretty comments on his record regarding gays and supports using the death penalty for drug offenders (Manny Pacquaio). We all have to make choices, especially in combat sports, about what our lines are or aren't. That's our jobs as consumers.

That said if there's one thing I can say that I hope will stick with everyone, it's that there's nobody wrong here outside of the people in question here. What YOU do as a fan one way or another is ultimately your business. If Greg Hardy offends you as a person then I have zeeero problem with you deciding to sit this show out. There are people I respect who will not be watching and I respect them for having that feeling. It's a totally acceptable feeling to have and no, you're not some SJW/soyboy/snowflake or whatever other terms MMA bros might throw your way. You have your line and I accept that and if anything, I appreciate you sticking to your convictions. Conversely I'd also ask that you not get pissy about people who ARE going to tune in and watch. Watching an MMA event with one dude on it who draws some serious visceral reactions due to his actions doesn't make you a supporter of domestic violence, a bad person or some kind of gooney bird unless you're actively rooting for Hardy DUE to his DV past. In that case, you probably are all those things. At the end of the day, we're all in charge of our own moral compass. Watch if you wish, feel how you feel, just don't hurt your cause by being an asshole about it.

[ibroughtthisonmyselfpixels]

Part 2: The Cross-generational Perspective

In which the influence of Cupid Hawthorne can be felt as early as junior-year history

Warning: contains a scene of murder (of a young person) more explicit than in the previous part, focused on in great detail - specifically, strangulation - and murder as a whole is discussed throughout. There’s also minor homophobia / historical gay denial from a forum poster, transphobia disguised as “it’s just a joke bruh” rhetoric, very mild NSFW implications in one paragraph, and a requisite Cuphead reference since Vidcund would have killed me if I didn’t work King Dice into this somehow.

Castor didn't start collecting trophies deliberately until the third kill. By then, they were more at ease with the monumental task they'd set themselves, and more certain of what He would expect of them. Besides, the higher the body count, the harder it is to tell the victims apart without a souvenir or five. A broken button here, a tie there... Every little helps.

The first and second are both embodied by the same thing – though the need for reminiscence there is more out of desire than duty.

Automatically, they reach for a side drawer on the desk, an old shawl wrapped in a plastic bag wrapped in their hand in seconds. It's how Moms used to store the old photo album at home (may still do, actually; they need to pay them a visit next weekend). But, if anything, the history book inside is even more precious and handled with greater care, each page the wing of a gossamer moth. To desecrate His face would be nothing short of sacrilege.

Their finger runs along His pale jaw, and they pretend the deep-set eyes widen slightly at the sight of them.

Soon, Cupid. I'm nearly there.

The eyes that will first see that face on the page belong not to the nonbinary person they will become, but a teenage girl who happens to carry the name and the penis she had at birth. Her identity is just one of the many things Castor has picked up over time, like pierced ears, the zits that turn her rounded face into a game of connect-the-dots, and a keen interest in aspects of academia that most of her peers refuse to touch.

That last one especially. She didn't get into AP History through luck alone, after all. And it's paid off – she's learned more about the 1920s and 30s in the month or so they've been covering it than anything she gleaned from comparing the differences between World Wars I and II. To a Sim who drinks knowledge like it's water, such a thing is invaluable.

No matter how grisly that knowledge is.

“--looking at the rise of gangsters, mobs, and other such criminals, and how that relates to what we've already studied,” says Mr Piper, breaking through her thoughts. Ah, today's one such 'grisly day', then. “It's no secret that Roaring Heights, even today, has something of a fearsome reputation; when we made our list of qualities a few weeks ago, 'bad crowd' was a term that came up a lot, as I'm sure you remember. The existence of these criminal syndicates was and still is a large factor in those bad crowds, both proverbial and literal.”

“Like the Hook?” shouts a voice (as best as he can with it cracking) from the back of the room. “Is the Hook a syndicate?”

“No, Elliot. And I thought we agreed we wouldn't bring that urban legend up in class again.”

Elliot groans, but he does stay quiet after, thank god. It's not even from the right decade... Weren't it still Sunshine Cove back then?

“I'm more referring to actual families with lengthy histories of illegal activity: the Reeves, the Dandys, and so on. But we're going to focus exclusively on the Hawthorne family today, since they are particularly notorious. Who here knows which crimes the Hawthornes are the most tightly associated with?”

Hands rise sporadically around the room. Sam Nguyen's was up right away, but she was born there, so she's known about everything in this module so far.

Tallying the results in his head, the teacher stops when he sees her own hand still down. “Castor, I'm surprised you don't know,” he remarks.

“I've heard 'em mentioned in passing, Sir; I've just never had a chance to look into it.”

He seems to accept that: “Okay then. Glenn? Any ideas?”

“Extortion tactics, Sir? That's what most mobs do.”

“No it ain't! Haven't you seen CSI? Mobs are about murder. Culling the good guys, making them sleep with the fishes, capiche?” Orchid slips into an attempt at an Italian accent towards the end, one that doesn't jive well with the usual Hollow twang in the slightest.

“Uh, they probably wouldn't talk like that if they're--”

“Don't they blackmail people too?”

“That's the same thing, Clover!”

“Not really; extortion's more about getting what you want, blackmail's about them getting what they don't--”

A sharp tap on the desk with a spare whiteboard duster brings the class to silence and order... very temporarily, since it's broken by the sound of Steve's text-to-speech system. (God, she's just imagined that with a bad Italian accent too...) “Does it depend on which member of the family you're looking at, Sir?”

“That's right, Steve. And so are the other three of you, in that sense. Different generations of Hawthornes have those three aspects covered at different ratios. But while extortion and blackmail were reportedly the roots of the family business, it traces back to the 1910s, beyond the scope of the decades we are looking at this term. It's the second aspect – the murder –” Mr Piper lets the word hang in the room for a short second – “that cast the blackest mark on both them and the town as a whole from the years 1920 to 1930. If you can all turn to Page 74 in 'A Roaring Heights History' for me?”

Ever on the ball, Castor joins the others in retrieving their copy from the bottom of her quite hefty backpack. Damn lack of foresight. The air's thick with the sound of pages turning, numbers counted, 74, 74... ah-ha, there it is. Chapter title on the left, picture on the right, captioned: 'Cupid Hawthorne, feigning grief'. She glances at it by chance --

-- and the very foundations of the Earth shift beneath her.

He's so... striking. So real, despite the medium; like a firework given form. His jaw is practically a V, set in a scream, his lips curling back to show near-perfect teeth. Hair – no, she can hardly call it hair, it's a mane, swept wherever the wind takes it. His nostrils flare, highlighting a nose prominent enough to warrant sculptures, monuments. Eyebrows slant heavy in the fierce expression, and the eyes underneath...! There are a million and one stories within those eyes, greyscale though they are, every imagined fleck of those distant polaroid irises a new memory, of anger, of family, death, blood, anguish...

For a wild moment, for a wild lifetime, she imagines that it's her he is looking at, that his gaze is fixed upon her alone, that she's the reason for this burst of passion within such a soul. His voice, abstract, unheard, repeats within as the name lingers on his mouth, Castor, Castor.

When the world turns again and the echo fades, she's left adrift between peace and unrest.

Looking up to the classroom again is like stepping out of a cinema into a rainy day: brighter than hoped, darker than expected. To her surprise, only two minutes have passed since, given the clock's hands. She looks back at the people behind her. Sam, Steve, even Elliot... His face looks up at them all from the paper, captured and reflected from multiple angles.

And yet none of them seem to see him. If they look, it's briefly, before returning to the text underneath. There's a rarity in their books, and they're choosing to ignore it? Wait, Sam's looked up too – confused – was she, too, caught in the--?

“Uh, Castor?” she whispers. “You okay? You look pale. Need to see the nurse?”

“Uh-? Y-no, it's okay. I'll be fine.”

Castor quickly turns back to the front, to the task at hand – if such a thing even exists. There's words beyond the caption, and the teacher drones on, but they all seem strange now, nonsensical. An emotional dyslexia.

Is she really the only one to feel it? The only one to see Cupid Hawthorne, emblazoned in history, and have a reaction so...

visceral?

The haze the history lesson left behind shields her from the rest of the school day, for better or worse; she's unceremoniously home before she realizes it. Mom One is working tonight, so only her jade-green mother is there to greet her. Dinner's brief, a bowl of mac and cheese and a slice of sheet cake from the local baker's, and then it's time for homework. In theory, anyway.

In practice, the first word she types into Google, on reflex, is “Hawthorne”. She makes no attempt to stop it after that. She does have a week for most of these pieces, and a reputation of being prepared to uphold...

Result after result pours onto the screen, and with it information and revelation. First, that out of all the people in the room that morning, Orchid had been closest to the truth. Matters of money and influence are barely mentioned, with some of the forum users she digs up not even knowing that the criminal activity went that deep. All talk is of the War of the Hawthornes: the players, the game, and even a fraction of the cause.

Crimedivi So turns out they used to run bachelorette challenges in the old days too?? They weren't c**** popular like now, but there were apparently enough of them that RQ ran one, and Cupid meddled in it by killing everyone off!! I mean, wtf???? Even if you don't like your family that's just low you know??????

Castor assumes the asterixes are due to the forum's format, rather than self-imposed (especially when the same poster later refers to it as a series of 'a**a**inations').

Allystelle205 I've heard about that too! That's why no one knows who Rose Quartz ended up marrying in the end, I think: she had to protect his identity to make sure Cupid couldn't track them and kill them again... :O

xxxgogetterx “his”? wasn't she pansexual? there wouldve been women in there too dumba**

Allystelle205 Dude, gay people didn't exist in the 1930s! They would have been killed for--

She scrolls past that hot mess quickly until she finds a mod post warning them that her sexuality's neither up for debate, nor the actual point... she thinks. It doesn't have his name in it, so she doesn't get all the details.

movethatpawawayfromyoursim Anyway, back on topic...... @crimedivi it wouldn't have been the first time Cupid killed off his own family. Pretty much everyone else in it are dead because of him after all – three in that car crash, one got shot, one got strangled. I forget which is which. After that level of evil, killing her suitors to get to her really isn't that much of a stretch

Crimedivi ik ik but until then no one else had to get killed OUTSIDE off the family right?? and think about it, there's NEVER been a bc since where this has happened, people dying cus they wanna get married!!!! its just a new layer of bad somehow yknow??? kinda makes me wanna be sick!!

SpeckleP Especially since Rose Quartz was like reeeeaaaally mentally ill. There's records out there of her being in an asylum once upon a time in Bridgeport I think it was. They say schizophrenia but I think it was more that Cupid had such a hold over her that she broke herself so he couldn't hurt her anymore or something like that? Imagine getting out of there only to lose even more people to him and not knowing why...

Crimedivi now I really AM gonna be sick thanks SpeckleP!!!!!!

She looks at her hands, poised on the keyboard, then over to her open book. He's still there in print, facing away from the gossip about his motives and deeds that splits the screen. Castor slants him towards her again, giving him another long look, waiting for... she doesn't know what. Another change? How can there be change, when he has already infected her mind so thoroughly? How can there be anger, revulsion, at such a sight? And yet it's so easy for others to feel, firmly in the corner of the family scorned...

The book goes back down. Maybe there's something to what Sam said, after all. Maybe Castor is sick – just in a very different way to little Crimedivi.

This notion doesn't bother her as much as she thought it would.

The topic staggers on for another few posts (including a very pointed remark about the healthcare system from AtheistKatherine33) before stalling. Perhaps another website will bring her more insight.

Searching more specifically for “Cupid” this time, it's not long before she's inundated with a wall of neon text that looks like it's from the era of GeoCities, if not somehow earlier. But it doesn't take long for her to convert it into something resembling legibility. It's broken up by a picture – not a copy. This one's captioned “most recent known photo”, but he's less clear here, a calmer face in a crowd of dots and stripes, caught only by a red circle. His arm is linked with that of a black man to his right, in... is she imagining it? Or is it a protective sense? A partner of some kind? That'd be odd, given the era, and yet... they're standing so...

For the first time in months, Castor's chest feels a dismal flickering that she recognizes as dysphoria. She winces. Not now, not... Reading, more reading. She sinks into the paragraphs on paragraphs, feeling the flames of that shrink under a much greater fire.

1914-1918: Records show that Cupid H served in the Roaring Heights branch of the Allied forces during the events of the first World War. Debates are thick on the ground as to how many casualties can be attributed to him in this time ...

Winter-Spring, 1920: After a meeting with a rival syndicate, Oleander, Dogwood and Gillyflower H are killed in a car crash. It later transpires that the crash was due to sabotage of the vehicle in question; despite denying it at first, Cupid would later admit to being the culprit ...

Summer, 1920: Cupid strangles Blush H, then goes on to shoot Bow H in a duel to the death. These are the first murders that he is known to have committed directly, without the use of war as an excuse or a car crash as a buffer. Reports persist, though unsubstantiated, that Cupid was crying during these acts ...

1925: After five years of being in charge of the family business, Cupid H goes into an unexplained exile, leaving the company with no head and no direction ...

1930: A further five years of absence end with a secret reappearance in Raspberry Hearts. Cupid infiltrates the bachelor challenge of his sister Rose Quartz H, using Grey Tundora as a proxy to eliminate all competition. By the time only he and the person who will marry her remain, Cupid reveals himself to her, and--

“Cassie?”

“Mm?” She jolts herself back into the room in time to see a body in the doorway. “Yeah, Mom?”

“Are you okay? I've called up to you four times.”

Oh crap... first too little time has passed, now apparently far too much. “Sorry, I've just been doin' a spot of reading up. I'm fine.”

Mom Two doesn't budge. “I hope you did some of your homework before--”

“Oh, this is homework... sorta. Extracurricular – y- nothing you’d understand,” she reassures a little too quickly for her own mouth.

“What of, hon? Anything in particular?”

Yeesh, what is this, the Inquisition? I'm keepin' him waiting... “Just stuff, Mom. School stuff? That's what extracurricular means. And if I don't get back to it soon it'll be extra-extracurricular, so if y’all could... y’know...?”

The face in the door twists, disconcerted, confused. “Are you sure you're okay? You're not normally so ornery. If there's anything wrong, you know you can tell me and Laverne, don't you?” That look, backed with the sadness under her words, brings mollified shame to Castor's cheeks.

“No, nuffin's wrong. Sorry, didn't mean to shout; s'been a heck of a day, is all. I'm okay, though, honestly,” she adds before more worry can spawn from that. “Promise.”

This, at least, seems placating enough, since her parent smiles again. “Promise promise?”

“Yup. And if I'm wrong, sic Mom One on me in the morning.”

“I will. Anyway, I'm near about past going, so I'm heading to bed. Don't stay up too long now, will you?”

“I won't,” says Castor, already acutely aware of how much of a lie that could turn out to be. “Night, Momma.”

“G'night, little spark.”

And thus Mom Two finally departs, leaving her child to dive back into research, first online then back to off, under the watching eyes of a man briefly seen.

It's little surprise that she sleeps late, book tucked under the pillow; yet, inexplicably, she still jolts awake just before sunrise. She dreamt mostly of Cupid. She couldn't help it. A man so mysterious, powerful, and – judging by the hand pressed between her legs – experienced could invade the dreams of anyone if he desired it. (The fact that he would be several years her senior doesn't cross her mind, addled with mingling red and white splatter stains as it is.)

She spends so much time scrutinizing the parts of the chapter she missed over breakfast that she clean forgets to make up her usual teapot-ponytails. The excess hair weighs more than usual at her nape, a pleasantly strange sensation; few comment on it when she gets into school. At this point, they tend to let her more unconventional fashion choices slide.

Well... most of them do. As morning drags her kicking and screaming into the sticky, perpetual hours of lunch period, an exception first seeded years ago is set to prove the rule.

“Hey, Cassie. What's a gal like you doing in the boy's bathroom?”

Ignore him. Just ignore him. Focus on freshening up.

“Helloooo? I said, what's a gal like you doin--”

“That ain't gonna work, Lemonlips. I'm in too bad a mood.” Focus, focus. Sweep 'cross the eyelid, left to right...

Merlot barks out a laugh that morphs into a gravelly hack halfway through, courtesy of the cigarette aflame in his pale-green hand. “Shit, you're always in a bad mood now. What the hell happened to your sense of humor, babe?” he drawls, lingering on the final word as though it in itself is an insult.

Nothing, your sense of humor just switched into makin' me the butt of every joke when you worked out I was trans, her mind snarls, fingers curling around the eyeshadow brush. But there's no sense in voicing that. She's explained it to him before, even before their friendship dissolved, and he's never gotten it. Out of ignorance or malice, she still doesn't know.

Thank Christ he was in none of her classes today. After the morning she's had – distracted by a roaring beauty, sidelined by a surprise pop quiz in her worst subject, caught passing a note to Floss in Biology – more of Merlot than is necessary would turn her into the very being in the photo.

“I'm only saying that with you saying you're a girl all the time and wearing your hair like a girl and putting on that f-” he stalls, apparently thinking better of it – “makeup like a girl, you oughta be in the bathroom with the other girls. Sue me for making a good point every once in a while.”

A swift wave of red across the other eye. She loves this color; it puts more emphasis on the contrast within her pupils and less on the zit that’s somehow appeared in her eyebrow, what the hell? “Last week I was in the girl's bathroom, and you kicked up a stink about that too. Made out like I was a predator, remember?”

“Jesus Christ, I was only jok--”

“Yeah, well, it weren't funny. It were sick.” On to the next shade in her kit, a deeper hue this time, reminiscent of roses and blood... She wonders how often Cupid saw this color in his line of work. “Besides, everywhere else is full up today, so I'm stuck in here with you--”

“Riiight, right, gotcha,” says her fellow Berry dismissively. “Can't stand the thought of them being prettier than you.”

“It's not--”

“Don't lie, it's always been like that.” He stubs out his smoke on the wall, leaving one of many little marks on the linoleum. “Envy's your Achilles heel, babe, your deadly sin. That's why you broke it off with me, that's why you decided you were a girl – cus you knew you could never match up to what I've got to offer if you just stayed a boy like I asked.”

Her teeth grit together... is she being particularly touchy today, or he particularly aggravating? “Lemonlips, you know for a fact that's not true. I--”

“Bullshit it's not!”

Pain erupts in ear and vision both – “Gyah!” – he's much closer and louder than before, and the alarm's made her jab the brush through her closed lids and into the actual eyeball. “Sunnuva... ” Owww, she thinks as she pulls it out, sending an ugly smear along her right cheekbone, that's gonna sting somethin' awful.

“Sorry. Y-you okay?” she hears beyond the ringing. “Didn't... fuck your face up, did I?” There's a tremble in the tone, an off-key one. Did that actually...? Blinking the injured eye rapidly, she cracks open the other, casts it at him – Adam's apple quivering, but a smile in the mouth and the...

Laughing. The son of a bitch is still laughing.

The brush falls to the floor. Her hand reaches immediately, instead, for her standard trusty watch enclosed in a trouser pocket. By all rights she ought to have done this the second he saw her, but she had to give him a chance, didn't she? Like she does every single... ugh. She prays this time will be quick. Calm and quick.

“Uh, w- what are you doing?” the idiot says, still trying to stifle his guffaws.

“You know what I'm doing,” she replies, evenly. “What's important is what you're doin'. Doing.”

“Oh please, you think I'm gonna fall for that again? I'm getting wise to your tricks, Cas-”

But she is wiser. “No tricks, Merlot. Think about what you're doing. Think about what you're saying. Think about how you're breathing. Think about that breath, caught in your chest. Let it out for me.” The rhythm to her words is coming naturally, as is the subtle swing of the watch, a distraction to the other's eye. Even in their early days, he was drawn to this. “Let the breath in. Let the breath out. Focus on that. The breath in, the breath out. Focus on the breath. Focus on my voice, focus on the watch. Let us fade, let us stay, stay where you can see us. Focus on the breath and the voice and the watch.”

“Yyou're...” The protest is stoppered; he's already slurring.

“Focus on the voice and the watch. On the voice, the watch. The voice. Only the voice. Let the voice guide you. Let me do the work. Focus on the voice. Ignore how your eyes droop. Ignore how your tongue feels heavy. Ignore how your bones slouch. Focus on the voice telling you this. Focus all of your being on the voice. Ignore your tiring. Focus on the voice. Focus... and sleep.”

And he's slack against the wall, dropping to the floor in a well-executed trance state.

There. Now maybe he can shut up. Castor retrieves the brush from the ground, repacks her makeup kit, slips it and the watch into her bag. She's still got a while before class begins again. She can grab a snack from the cafeteria, she decides. Fix her eyeshadow elsewhere, add some blush. Read some more about...

She pauses in front of the door.

On any other day – on the same day, in any other world – this pause would be brief. She would shake it off, swing open and out into the school as herself. The satisfaction of seeing him down for the count would be enough, enough to quell everything, the haunting of her dream, the reminder of what was and what's to come. That would be the end of it.

On this day, she turns back.

A slow approach to her former friend. A discarding of the backpack. A lowering onto bended knees to see him up close. His yellow buzzcut is coarse, a shaved pattern disappearing. The insectine lines across his face are slack in slumber. Long eyelashes rest upon cheeks.

This much is true – he was pretty to her, once upon a time. But there is greater beauty than her own to compare him to, now.

He's not wearing his usual scarf; it's a warm sort of day, so it doesn't call for it, she supposes. The uniform looks incomplete without it, though. Too small for his body, too wide for his neck. His neck. Exposed, thin. The lump of a voicebox within is less clear, hidden by its stretching out, its length. She looks more carefully – there's a vein, or perhaps another birthmark of the skin, crawling to his chin.

It occurs to her, looking at it, how fragile a neck can be. There's only skin and blood protecting the windpipe, and not even that much of it. Anything could sever it, whatever the sharpness. A knife. A pen. A hand. Two hands.

Those of a criminal. Those of a hypnotist.

--three in that car crash, one got shot, one got strangled--

The bathroom at once seems much wider and taller than before, swamping them both. A dizzy Castor looks at her fingers again – red with makeup, green with potential.

Could I-? Could I...?

--the first murders that he is known to have committed directly--

She finds herself reaching out, softly, towards the breathing vessel. Two fingers, a thumb. A pulse underneath. He doesn't stir; the trance must be deep. So very...

He wouldn't even notice. He wouldn't wake. He'd never wake again, would he? No more of those thinly-veiled jokes. No more memories, tainted. No one hurt by him ever again.

And the ocean within her head would stop crashing at the shores of the skull.

--Cupid strangles Blush H--

Left hand joins right. Both fasten, like a collar, around the sleeping Merlot's throat.

Solid ridges form under her touch, columns of muscle. Tighter; the drumbeat rises, a steady rhythm. Tighter; she feels it when he subconsciously swallows. A circle smaller by degrees, the more she squeezes, her grip steadying with each of her own inhales and exhales. Calm and quick.

Calm and quick. Don't get carried away. Don't waste this. Could never waste this. Is she hearing herself, or him, or Him? Who's pretending to be her? Is this pretension? Too many questions. Too much air in the body of this waste of space, his arrogant being, his brother. Flush it out, flush it all out. Let oxygen drip away.  

A quickening of the arteries – a fluttering, a stirring. Dammit. Merlot's coming out, he's aware, he's seeing the vice grip and the body attached to the grip and the eyes of red and green and blue that see him too. He tries to gulp in alarm, to shriek... it won't help. How can it help if he can't breathe to do it? He struggles underneath her, fails to back away, to press forward. His own limbs, ineffectual, reach up to grab hers, to pull her away from this most vital of tasks. A begging for mercy, when he offered her none. A chance to let go.

She presses harder.

He croaks, panics, claws at her haphazardly, barely scratching the surface, much less the spirit; they're limp before he knows it. He's kicking out now, but she isn't dislodged. He has no quarter in this battle, this war, this slaughter. Not anymore. Not now she can sense that nothing's passing through, nothing in, nothing out. Focus on the breath. Hah – focus on the lack of breath. Focus on the blood vessels bursting, tinting the whites of him. Focus on the single tear. Focus on the fear, the danger, the regret, rising, then falling, fading, fading away...

When her own trance lifts, her palms can no longer feel his heart.

Castor finds herself unable to move at first. Then, gradually, carefully, she peels away from him, shuffles back to get a better look at this: her destruction. The body is unchanged on the fundamental level; buzzcut, filled with lines, lashes thick. But it's only a shell. Merlot, as she knew him, as grew up with her, as turned on her, simply isn't there, a victim of his own cocoon.

...no, not of that. A victim of me, she thinks. Thinks again. Victim. Killed. Killed him. It's almost tuneful. I just killed him. I've literally just killed a man. Didn't even need a car to do it. Just hands. 

Wonder if anyone heard me doing it. ...wait, what if they did? What if they find his body? This is going to get out eventually. Lots of things do in this school. What if it does and they find out I did it? What if they see my fingerprints? What would Moms think? What would Mr Piper think? Floss, Sam, wh- what would...

What would He think?

The bag's been dislodged, somehow, in the scuffle. She pulls it back to her, as though in a dream. An errant streak of pink is on the front cover; she can clean that up later. What's important is Page 74, and the Cupid within. The restrained rage. The black and white look that's...

changed. Everything that was within before has coalesced into one emotion. She doesn't have to guess to know it's for her, or to know what it is.

Pride.

The world is suddenly and startlingly hot and cold and wet. She crushes the book to her chest, His picture flat against her heart by coincidence or design. At the same time, there's a smell of ichor and bone and fog, wrapping around her legs. The walls rumble motionlessly.

Of two things, Castor is certain in this moment. First: that Death has come to take the carcass, the damning evidence, of Merlot Lemonlips away. Second: that she will love Cupid Hawthorne for the rest of her limited existence.

[taeminuet]

Heartbeat (6/?)

Title: Heartbeat Fandom: SHINee Pairings: (eventual) Jongtae; Minkey; OnKai Chapter Wordcount: ~4k Overall Rating: R (Some chapters will be NC-17; these will be marked.) Chapter Warnings: (negative) religious overtones, mentions of neglect/emotional abuse. Summary: In which not every problem needs to be fixed and not every person needs to be saved; sometimes you just need support.

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1 , 2 , 3 , 4��, 5

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Chapter 6: Taemin

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The morning sun makes strange, soft patterns on the folds of the sheets, and Taemin is actually a little disappointed to see the light. Somehow, between himself and Minho, they managed to construct a fairly acceptable excuse for a blanket fort, and they had tucked into it, Minho's long legs curling a little to fully fit, and Taemin folding into his side.

It's been a while since Taemin has had someone stay up with him, not because he's forcing them too even, but because Minho was already going to be up. It had seemed ridiculous in the dead of night, but Minho had been there, had said he was going to be there, and Taemin, well, he needs that, sometimes.

Realistically, he probably shouldn't have just thrown himself at Minho like that, but Minho had felt safe, in that moment. Still feels safe. Taemin, last night, for one of the first times in recent memory, hadn't felt quite as afraid as always.

So he doesn't want it to end. He doesn't want to leave this blanket fort, and he doesn't want the sun to come up and ruin something that actually felt nice. He wants to stay here, in this dumb little blanket fort, and the rest of the world can fuck off. In here, it feels so much like they could just stay, like Taemin could maybe sleep and Minho wouldn't forget.

But the world isn't that kind, and time sweeps past until Taemin can faintly hear the chattering of birds outside, like a reminder that Taemin can't just have nice things like that. With a groan, he sits up, stretching out with a wince as joints pop and groan.

“Hey,” he says, his voice kept soft enough not to break the little space they've carved out for themselves. “Thanks for staying up with me last night.”

Minho hums, almost absently, eyes flickering from his book to Taemin's face. After a minute, he sets the book down, smiling. It's clearly drowsy, the beginnings of deep bags settling in hard under his eyes (though nowhere nearly so deep as Taemin's), but it's genuine. He reaches out and ruffles Taemin's hair, and Taemin doesn't have a visceral reaction to dodge away from him. Instead he leans into the touch.

“I told you before, Taemin, you don't have to thank me,” he says, voice at exactly the same volume, like they're both trying so hard not to disturb some invisible bubble of peace.

But it pops anyways, only moments later, a head of black hair poking itself through the entrance. Taemin jerks back just slightly, more genuinely surprised than truly alarmed. After a moment, he shoulders sink, relaxing in recognition. “Onew, you scared me! Come on, you can join us before the nurses make us tear it down.”

He gets a shake of a head in response. “I'm good, thanks. You two certainly look cozy, though. Morning, Minho.”

He chuckles, but he doesn't duck his head shyly, and his lips quirk, teasing easily. He's looking Taemin dead in the face when he speaks, and his laughter is slightly lower, more truly amused than nervous. It's... it doesn't feel right, and Taemin fidgets, looking nervously to Minho who glances back at him and then shakes his head, clearly as uncertain as Taemin.

This doesn't feel like Onew, Taemin realizes. And then realizes that if it's not Onew, it has to be--

“Jinki,” he says, nerves jangling a little. He knows Onew, knows how to read him – soft and sweet and slightly terrified, Taemin hasn't really been able to see Onew as a threat. No one who spoke to him for more than ten seconds possibly could. But Jinki? Taemin doesn't know much about Jinki at all except that he apparently fucks around with Jonghyun and Onew gets nervous talking about him. It's not a ton to go on.

Taemin takes a deep breath and then lets it out, slow and steady, forcing his best smile and trying to look tougher than a small, exhausted man in a pillow fort can honestly look. “It's nice to finally meet everybody.”

Jinki laughs again, just as easy as last time, grinning a strangely familiar smile, though it's somehow less soft around the edges than Onew's despite having the same face. “It's alright, kid. I may not be Onew, but I'm not going to bite your head off. Onew likes you.”

They seem almost like disparate statements, but they're not. They're very not, and Taemin relaxes a little, confusion playing over his features. He still doesn't want Jinki in their space though, and he pushes aside the blanket entrance to open it up some, give him more space to see and get a gauge on it.

Almost immediately, now that he can see all of Jinki, he can tell the difference. Jinki holds himself more open, shoulders back and body language neutral. Onew's baggy sweaters and comfortable pants have been traded out for tighter, clinging jeans and a more fitted shirt that highlights his form rather than hiding it. It's so different; Jinki really does feel like a whole other person.

“You can't blame me for being cautious,” he says, looking him up and down a few times.

Jinki sits back some, letting him, not even mildly perturbed by his gaze when Taemin is sure that Onew would have flushed and hunkered in on himself by now. Jinki only grins though. “Not at all. It's nice to meet you, so long as you don't go lobbing anything at my face first thing.”

Taemin can't help but snort a laugh. “So you can see what Onew sees? That's good to know.”

“Mmm,” Jinki hums. “More or less. I can't tell you every detail of what happened yesterday, not like if I had really witnessed it, but I know enough. I apologize for Jonghyun. He's a little... rough around the edges. I can't say he means well, but he's not actively trying to be rude.”

Taemin narrows his eyes just a little. “Just see if you can keep your... whatever you two are, on a leash, alright?”

Jinki huffs a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Jonghyun and I aren't anything, not as a unit at least. But I'll keep an eye on his while I'm around. It's the least I can do. Like I said, Onew likes you, and you seem like got more than enough shit on your plate.”

Taemin's mouth twists a little, but he can't really deny it. “Thanks,” he mutters eventually. “It's just a lot to handle right off the bat, you know?”

“I know,” Jinki replies, in the exact tone of voice that makes Taemin pretty sure that he isn't just offering a platitude, that he genuinely does know, at least a little. It's a weirdly intense moment, but it passes quickly, and then Jinki shifts a little, flickering his eyes to Minho again and smiling a seemingly genuine half-smile. “Now then, what kind of stuff have you heard about me while I've been away?”

Minho makes a little noise of bewilderment and then shrugs. “I didn't tell him anything. I haven't met you yet this time around.”

“That's true,” Jinki says thoughtfully. “I have no idea what you have written about me, though. You could have told him nearly anything and I wouldn't have any idea.”

It's not strictly mean, but there's a certain distance that Jinki clearly holds with Minho, one that Taemin can't place. It doesn't seem cold or even uncomfortable. It just seems like two people who have known each other for a while and have no desire to become friends. Taemin doesn't strictly know how to feel about that, especially when Onew and Minho had seemed to get along well yesterday, but he feels like he ought to do something to break the tone.

“Nothing too out of the ordinary,” he answers, pulling Jinki's attention back to him, and jokes, “You know, just that you're a fire breathing he-beast. Seems pretty accurate so far.”

“Damn it,” Jinki says, but he's laughing, shaking his head and smiling easily. “I breathe lightning, not fire. They get it wrong every time.”

Beside them, Minho cracks a small smile. “Nice to see that your humor isn't any better than Onew's.”

“My humor is flawless,” Jinki says, still laughing a bit. “I'm still waiting for comedy night to be an approved measure.”

Taemin snorts, and Minho rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to retort, but he's interrupted, jumping back in surprise and catching Taemin's arm to pull him back as one side of the fort collapses.

On the other side, Jonghyun has his hands pulled back, eyes wide and evidently startled. “Well shit,” he said, and then, “So are these three-man dates going to keep being a thing, because honestly, I'm starting to get a little jealous here.”

Taemin doesn't know whether to glare at him or not. He hadn't meant to, and Taemin still kind of feels guilty for last night, but Jonghyun is just such a shit.

Jinki perks up though, looking over Jonghyun intently. “Jonghyun,” he says, “Rough day?”

“It's like 8 a.m., man,” Jonghyun says, and Taemin can't help but notice the complete lack of answer in the question.

But only a moment later, it doesn't matter. Jonghyun flops down, far too close to Taemin, and Taemin recoils sharply, tugging towards Minho with a hiss of, “Jonghyun...”

“I see you've met our newest,” Jonghyun teases, reaching out towards Taemin's hair. “Gorgeous, isn't he?”

Taemin jerks, trying to snap out at Jonghyun's hand to get it away, but Jinki catches it before he could, wrenching Jonghyun back by it so hard that Jonghyun cries out, voice wavering and eyes going a little bit dazed.

“Don't,” he says, and loosens his grip, just a little. “Don't do this, Jonghyun.”

Jonghyun shudders. “What?” he asks, a little breathless, a lot petulant. “I'm just giving him a compliment.”

“He doesn't want you to touch him. You're not too blind to see that, Jonghyun.” Jinki's voice is firm, and he looks at Jonghyun for a long moment before dropping his arm entirely, lifting one eyebrow at him. “You can keep on bothering him, or you can ask me. But just between us, I think we both know that I'm going to be the only one receptive to fucking you later.”

Jonghyun bites his lip, muffling a low groan. “God, you're such an asshole,” he says, but he raises his hands in a mocking hand-check gesture before dropping them again.

Jinki hums, raking a hand through Jonghyun's hair, his mouth a pleased smirk. “Good boy. Taemin, are you alright?”

Taemin is too busy gaping to answer for a moment. He's not entirely sure how that had worked, but if it has, he's definitely not going to complain. “I'm fine,” he says with a growing smile aimed towards Jinki. “I'm good. Thanks.”

Jinki returns the expression. “I'm glad. Though, if you'd like to repay me, you could do me a favor?” he says.

Taemin tenses, just a little. He doesn't like people that do favors and then immediately ask for something in return. That's not a favor. That's being a manipulative asshole.

But Jinki only gestures towards his wrist, where Taemin's old rosary bracelet rested, worn more out of habit than anything, and smiles soothingly. “You're free to say no,” he reassures. “There's just a chapel here I like to visit, and I'd appreciate it if you came with me.”

“Church?” Taemin asks, honestly confused now. He hasn't really believed in God in a very long time, and he hadn't pegged Jinki that way either.

To be fair, he had believed as a child, but there's something about praying useless years away and nothing getting even a little better that made it hard to believe. There's honestly just something about the thought of a God watching all this pain and suffering and not stepping in that makes him uncomfortable even now. Taemin still wears the rosary beads, but he hasn't prayed on them in years.

“Dunno how you still believe in God after all this bullshit,” Jonghyun grumbles, almost echoing his thoughts.

Jinki scoffs, expression suddenly sharp rather than sweet. “I don't know, Jonghyun. You were calling out his name pretty well a few nights ago, if I remember correctly.”

Jonghyun despite all odds, goes faintly pink. “I don't have to deal with this shit,” he gripes, face screwing into a look of distaste as Minho bursts out laughing and Taemin smothers a laugh of his own into his palm.

“I can see why he doesn't go. He'd probably get struck by lightning the second he put a foot in,” Taemin says, “But sure. I'll go.”

“Fuckin'” Jonghyun starts, grumbling and tugging away, but he stops at the sound of wheels as Kibum approaches, turning to his friend and nodding a loose greeting.

He's not the only one. Beside him, Minho straightens somewhat, though Taemin isn't sure why exactly, whether it's tension or something else entirely. Either way, Key only nods in reply and offers, “Have fun with that, you two.”

Jinki nods slightly, more inclining his head than anything, and stands, offering Taemin a hand up. Taemin doesn't take it, pushing himself up instead, but Jinki doesn't seem offended, only retracts his hand and moves to touch Jonghyun's shoulders gently, one hand curling loose around the back of his neck.

His voice is kept low, but not so low that Taemin can't hear the soft murmur of, “Later, Jonghyun. Just hold on a bit longer. I'll take care of you later.”

Jonghyun doesn't reply, but his eyes flutter shut, mouth opening a little in a soundless exhale, and Jinki runs his fingers through Jonghyun's hair, brushing it almost kindly away from his face before he turns to Taemin. “Shall we?”

Taemin says a quick goodbye to Minho and follows him, hanging back just a little, trying to get a better gauge on Jinki. He walks confidently, not shuffling as much as Onew, and he glances at any nurses and staff they pass, but he doesn't greet them or really react in any way. He just leads Taemin in quiet, up towards the main entrance of the building and into an empty side room Taemin hadn't paid much attention to.

It only vaguely resembles any kind of chapel, in the loosest sense. It's got about a dozen chair, bibles seated neatly on the cushion of each one, and there's a podium in front of it, a small metal statue of a cross sitting neatly on the lefthand corner of it. If not for the small religious ornaments, it would almost look more like a tiny lecture hall.

Jinki seems to share the sentiment, at least. “Even if I did want to come to church, this place would effectively suck the faith out of almost anyone,” he murmurs, into the slightly musty air. “I only ever come because it would upset Onew to know that he missed, even just for a week. He's still so faithful, in some ways. Says his prayers each night. Prays to God to heal us of our... affliction.”

Taemin winces openly. “Yeah, Onew seems more like the devout type,” he says, mostly for something to say. He doesn't know enough about Jinki to really know how that might feel, but Jinki cites Onew as he reason for nearly everything; he obviously at least cares about him. And yet Onew prays every night for Jinki to go away. Taemin feels a pang of sympathy. “It's good though,” he tries, “that you come here for him.”

Jinki hums, soft under his breath, turning his full attentions on Taemin, and Taemin gets a sudden notion that this is what he's here for. Nothing to do with church. Jinki just wanted to speak to him, alone like this.

“I would do anything for Onew,” he says, voice low and insistent. Not a promise, just flat truth. “I think I might have had some sort of faith, once. Onew never questioned; why should I? But he doesn't remember what I do. Suppressed most of it and then I took over and he can't remember from there.

“The first time I showed up, it was because Onew had pneumonia. He had a test that day at school, not even a big one, I don't think, but his mom made him stay up half the night to study. His parents were always on him about being the perfect son, having perfect behavior, perfect grades. He was sick, and he'd only gotten about two hours of sleep, and he felt miserable. God, I remember how miserable-- but he went to school anyways. He had a test, after all.”

Jinki's mouth quirks humorlessly. “He passed out in the middle of it. Woke up in the hospital hours later. He'd had a fever of 105-something.” That same humorless quirk, eyes fixing on Taemin now. “His mom yelled at him for making a 92 on the test he didn't get to finish.

“So he doesn't remember what happened after that, but I think he was just done; he passed out again from the stress and the fever, and I was there. I called the doctors. Had her forcibly removed from the room. I wanted her as far away from Onew as possible.”

“I... Jinki...” Taemin whispers, but Jinki just pins him with a look, his eyes both hurting and unbearably fond as he speaks about his counterpart.

“Let me finish,” Jinki says, interrupting whatever Taemin was going to say, even though Taemin couldn't possibly have said what that was in the first place. When Taemin nods, Jinki smiles softly and continues, “Later, Onew told his mother that he must have just freaked out. That he was sorry. That he would do better. But something had already broken by then, some floodgate. And it started happening more and more. Any time Onew couldn't handle it, he left, and I was the only one left to take over. Eventually, his parents caught wind of what was happening.

“His father was some big-name city official, then, did you know?” Jinki asks, almost politely. Taemin shakes his head, and Jinki nods. “I didn't think so. Onew doesn't speak much about his parents. But he was busy climbing the ranks, getting places, and it wouldn't do for people to think something was wrong with their son, that he was anything less than the model child.

“So they took him to their priest, asked him if he knew what was going on, and he tells them that Onew is possessed. That I'm the devil, taking control of their son.” Jinki's smile tightens, suddenly sharp and almost dangerous, enough to startle Taemin into taking a step back, though he's still staring, caught up in this story with some kind of fascinated wonder. Jinki softens. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“I'm-- it's fine. That must have been hard,” Taemin says, weakly.

Jinki snorts out something approximating a laugh, his hands clenching. “It was something. Asshole starts throwing holy water at Onew's face, only he's a fuckign drunk who can't tell his holy water from his vodka. I don't know if you've ever had vodka splashed directly in your eyes, but in case you haven't, I'll tell you now to avoid the experience. I wish to god Onew had; it took him a few seconds for the pain to really kick in, for him to black out and let me out.

“Only time I've ever show up like that, half blind with some asshole chanting at me in latin and throwing vodka at me,” he says, almost like it's funny, though it's clearly not. “I did what any sane man would have done. Grabbed the bible – one of those big, heavy, leather-bound ones? You know the type. – and threw it as hard as I could and started swinging.”

He pauses, just long enough that Taemin thinks he's done, but he looks up a moment later, eyes hard and cold and so very unlike “I broke his arm, his jaw, his nose, and three ribs. He filed charges, of course, said Onew was beyond help, that the 'demon' inside him was too strong. He wanted Onew locked away somewhere, but Onew's father talked him down. They sent us here instead, paid the priest off, probably buried the fact that they ever had a son.

“Onew says his parents want to get him help. They just want him out of the way. If he's not going to be something for them to show off, to make them look like good parents, the least he can do is not exist right? I've read the bible, and I'd love to believe in it. All that stuff about love – but what's loving about doing that to someone? To hurting them until they lash out to protect themselves and then locking them away for it? I don't know if God exists. Maybe he does. But if those are the people who speak for him...”

He stops, finally, looking around himself. For the first time Taemin sees something of Onew in his face, something soft and helpless. Taemin swallows hard. “Why... why tell me this?”

Jinki shrugs, almost halfhearted, but his eyes fix back on Taemin, intent. “Because Onew won't,” he says, like it's obvious. “And someone has to be here to give you the warning. Don't hurt him, Taemin. He's been hurt more than enough, and I won't let it happen again.”

Taemin stands there, staring at Jinki for a long time. It's a threat, he knows, but he oddly isn't terrified of it. Because it's such a justified one. Of all people, Onew. Onew, who had smiled like sunshine the moment anyone told him thank you, the one who's first thought and notion was to make sure everyone was okay. Onew, who looked so afraid that Taemin would recoil when he told him about his D.I.D. and who'd been stuck here longer than anyone. He didn't deserve that. Any of that.

“What kind of person would do that?” he asks finally, voice trembling. “And he's still so fucking devout...”

He stares for a moment, looking at the room at large. Empty. Musty. It feels, in a way, abandoned. Taemin's hands are shaking now. “What kind of god lets this shit happen? To Onew? To you? Who fucking does something like that?” He can hear his own voice, too loud, ringing in his ears, but he doesn't feel in control. It doesn't even make sense to yell, bu he just needs something, anything, to blame.

“How the fuck could you just abandon him like that?” he yells at the room at large. “He fucking trusted you and you abandoned him! All of us! We didn't deserve any of this! Fuck you!”

“Taemin,” Jinki says, voice firm, and Taemin deflates a little, still shaking. He turns, breathing heavily, and he doesn't pull away when Jinki takes him by the arm and guides him gently towards the door, murmuring, “Come on. We should go. I don't think either of us is doing to be offering prayers at this point.”

Taemin nods weakly, following, almost shuffling after Jinki now, unsure of what to do. Jinki doesn't let him go, but Taemin has the sense that as long as he doesn't hurt Onew, Jinki is as safe as he's going to get.

“I'm not going to hurt him,” he says finally. “And I'm sorry about all that. The last few days haven't been the easiest. The last while...”

Jinki fixes him with a gentle smile. “I know that now. You're alright.” He squeezes Taemin's arm, but it's a supportive gesture, almost kind. “I think we've probably successfully avoided clean up of the pillow fort though. The others should be at breakfast by now, if you'd like to join them?”

Taemin is exhausted, but that hardly matters. “Yeah, okay. Let's go.”

--

Next Chapter

[postcardsfromanferny]

Best of 2017: 90 Songs You Need To Hear

It feels cliché to talk about 2017 as the monstrous entity that it was. Mostly because we all know it. That’s all we talked about all year. (And anyone who doesn’t see it as a series of obstacles probably has a very different opinion on what makes America and humanity great.) 

Luckily the music was good. Very good. Some of it was a reaction to 2017, but a lot of it wasn’t. It was just great art that dealt with politics on the personal level. Discussing love, loss, anger, gender, race, technology, fun nights, and oppression weren’t inventions of 2017--and some of these issues have been bubbling for long enough that the explosion was going to happen regardless. So there’s not much else for me to say that these great creators haven’t already done. 

My initial hope of doing 30 great tracks stretched and stretched...and so now we have 90 tracks. The first 5 are the ones tattooed on my heart. The next 25 are just so damn good I wanted to make sure you heard them. And the remaining are in alphabetical order just for the sake of ease. Below is the embedded spotify playlist too. 

1. Just Dancing – Sylvan Esso

The beginning of a relationship is the most visceral part because you have the rush of “firsts” with a person. “Just Dancing” looks at the reality of hopping from person to person (via dating apps) just to keep yourself in a constant state of early love euphoria. It’s a simple concept laid over a building dance track that is as exciting as it is rueful.

2. This Country – Fever Ray Who knew the protest song we all needed in 2017 would come from a Swede exploring her sexuality? Whether she’s talking about her native land or the U.S. or the world at large, Fever Ray (aka Karin Dreijer) lets a creepy synth trickle beneath her haunting voice until she exclaims “Free abortions! And clean water! Destroy nuclear! Destroy boring!” Leading to an unexpectedly cathartic “This country makes it hard to fuck!”

3. Pleasure – Feist You can always tell a Leslie Feist guitar moment. It manages to be aggressive and delicate, and that carries through every note of this title track. As Feist navigates the meaning of pleasure—is it personal or public? Natural or manufactured? It’s a heady topic built on a riff PJ Harvey would be proud of (not to mention the vocal range displayed here), all leading up to a clap along finale that sounds somewhere between defiant and exuberant.

4. Slow Disco – St. Vincent On her latest album Annie Clark goes big and personal, to varying degrees of success. But it’s no accident that the album’s highlight is a track that feels like the natural extension of her best work (think Strange Mercy meets Teenage Talk). It’s languid but weird in all the right places—including her own pitch-shifted vocals on an a funereal outro.

5. Ocean – Goldfrapp It’s been a long time since Goldfrapp went epic in the truest sense of the word. Early tracks like Utopia and Strict Machine were wildly different but had one thing in common: They were unrelenting in going big—and then even bigger when you expected them to back down. Ocean follows suit with a cinematic sound that closes the album on perhaps the darkest note of the band’s career. “I borrowed bones, I borrowed skin to save me from the hell I’m in.”

6. Make Love Stay – Blue Hawaii 7. Blood on Me – Sampha 8. The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness – The National 9. WWWater – WWWater 10. Dangerous – The xx 11. Build a Fire – Young Ejecta 12. Heatwave �� Amber Mark 13. No Worries – Sarah Jaffe 14. Moving as One – LOYAL 15. Put Your Money on Me – Arcade Fire 16. Underwater – Millie Turner 17. Throwing Lines – Kelly Lee Owens 18. London – Maty Noyes 19. Disco Tits – Tove Lo 20. after that – yaeji 21. Someone – Anna Of The North 22. Glue – Bicep 23. Kids – LIA LIA 24. Lucky Girl – Fazerdaze 25. Flatline – Nelly Furtado 26. Everlasting Love – Sabrina Claudio 27. Deathless – Ibeyi (featuring Kamasi Washington) 28. On My Mind (Jorja Smith X Preditah) – Jorja Smith, Preditah 29. call the police – LCD Soundsystem 30. Baby – Tei Shi

Lotto in Reverse – Alex Lahey Some Mistakes – Anna Wise Paradise – ANOHNI Fire – Beth Ditto I Feel Alright - Mura Masa Remix – Bonzai, Mura Masa Country Girl – Boy Harsher 1UL – Danny L Harle Trees On Fire – DJDS, Amber Mark, Marco Mckinnis Get It Together – Drake, Black Coffee, Jorja Smith Heat Of The Night – Eat More Cake Go To Hell – Empress Of Falling – Forever Always Ascending – Franz Ferdinand Love You More – Fyfe No Horses – Garbage Kids (Ain't All Right) – Grace Mitchell 1986 – HÅN Controller – Hercules & Love Affair, Faris Badwan Godmanchester Chinese Bridge – The Howl & The Hum I Won't Judge – Jacques Greene Purple Feelings (feat. Rainsford) – Jerry Folk, Rainsford Love To Love – Jessie Ware Something Bout Our Love – JONES Al oeste – Juana Molina Sleepwalker – Julie Byrne LMK – Kelela Sleep Deprived – LÉON Leave the War With Me – London Grammar Wait For Me – Luca D'Alberto I'm Not A Disco – Maja Francis Sober (Over You) – Melis Tailwhip – Men I Trust Sleeping in My Own Bed – Morly 1 Night (feat. Charli XCX) – Mura Masa, Charli XCX Shouting at the Dark – The Mynabirds Cuffed – Nick Hakim Nobody – Niia 2 Good 2 Be True – Nite Jewel Off The Radar – Noga Erez Let Your Hair Down – Ouri, Mind Bath Choir – Perfume Genius Closer – POWERS Crocodile Tears – Ralph Sticky – Ravyn Lenae Dance With A Ghost – Sara Hartman Shine a Light – Shabazz Palaces, Quazarz, Thaddillac Kimono Hill – Sophia Kennedy Visions of Gideon – Sufjan Stevens Hands Up Head Down – Sure Sure Shake Em Off – Syd The Weekend – SZA Moonshine Freeze – This Is The Kit Further – TOPS Up The Creek – Tori Amos Fear & Force – Vagabon Falling (feat. Okay Kaya) – Vera, Okay Kaya Virtue – Vero I / You – vōx Bleed – WENS Stay for Real – Young Galaxy