#category five white man event

[coochiequeens]

Yet another case for SheWon.com. Not just any case, one where a grown ass white dude was allowed to compete against an 11 year old girl of color in the name of inclusiveness.

By Amy Hamm February 22, 2024

A trans-identified male is set to compete against women as the reigning Women’s Snooker Champion at the English Women’s Snooker Championship on May 24 in Walsall, UK. Jamie Hunter, 27, became the top women’s player following a semifinal victory against a young girl last year.

Hunter first rose to prominence during the English Women’s Snooker Champion finals in 2023 after he came out victorious against Mary Talbot-Deegan, finishing 3-1. Hunter had managed to make it to the finals after he beat out Ellise Scott, an 11-year-old rising star in the snooker world, taking 2-0 against her in the semifinal grouping. The event had been Scott’s debut in the tournament, and, prior to her match against Hunter, she had achieved three match victories against experienced female opponents.

Hunter had been participating in women’s cue sports since 2021, just one year after he “came out” as transgender.

Prior to transitioning, Hunter played in a mixed-sex amateur league for five years. Speaking with Snooker Zone in 2021, Hunter admitted that he had no intention of competing professionally until he discovered that there was a women’s tour.

“Until this year, cue sports was just a hobby, something I done once, maybe twice a week, but now finding out about the Women’s snooker tour, I believe that will change,” he said at the time. “They make out as if I played snooker as a man, I was rubbish, so decided to do it in the women’s instead. I changed my gender for my wellbeing and my life, not for anything else.”

Hunter received significant backlash after his 2022 US Women’s Open win, when former women’s world champion Maria Catalano criticized the policies enabling males to compete against females. In an interview with The Sportsman, Catalano argued that women’s snooker should exclude males from female categories, as some rugby leagues have, to ensure fairness for women. 

“We have fought so hard for our rights in the past – myself, Reanne Evans and others got people to write letters to allow us to play in leagues and clubs that banned women. I don’t believe that women can compete against men on a level playing field in sport. We are wired differently, we think differently. We are mentally different,” said Catalano. 

The World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association (WPBSA) publishes a mixed sex international ranking of players. The highest-ranking female on their current list, Mink Nutcharut, is listed at 119.

In response to the criticism of his wins against women, Hunter has framed the backlash as transphobia.

“Everybody’s human. Regardless of what choices you make. You should treat everybody with respect,” said Hunter speaking to a BBC journalist last fall. Bizarrely, Hunter was interviewed while he sat in a gaming chair in a dark bedroom — which he refers to as “the dark girl cave.” The room has a transgender pride flag pinned up on the wall behind him.

The upcoming English Women’s Snooker Championship is set for May 24, 2024. It is being organized by the English Partnership for Snooker and Billiards (EPSB), which is the national governing body for the sport in England. They describe their goal as creating a “structured coaching environment that will inspire all regardless of gender, ability, or ethnicity to fulfil their potential in our sport.” 

The EPSB has a diversity, equity, and inclusion policy with a lengthy section on discrimination, including a ban on any “condition, rule or practice [that]… particularly disadvantages people who share a protected characteristic.” As for their list of protected characteristics, the EPSB includes “gender, gender identity, marital status, sexual orientation, race, colour, nationality, religion, age, disability, HIV positivity, working pattern, caring responsibilities, trade union activity or political beliefs.”  

The English Women’s Championship is set to take place at the Landywood Snooker Club in Walsall, UK, on May 24.

This is not the first time a male has dominated women’s cue sports, sparking backlash from players and fans.

Last November, a female pool player refused to compete against a trans-identified male opponent at a women’s championship in Wales. Lynne Pinches received an outpouring of support as video began to circulate showing her walking away from the table after being matched to play against Chris Haynes.

Days later, two more female pool players refused to compete against Haynes in solidarity with Pinches during the Ultimate Pool tournament in Blackpool, UK.

In January, Pinches headed an effort to launch a lawsuit against the World Eightball Pool Federation (WEPF) and Ultimate Pool Group (UPG), accusing the governing bodies of subjecting women “to direct sex discrimination and harassment on the grounds of sex.”

What does he have to gain from this?

ENTRY FEES AND PRIZE MONEY

Entry: £30

Winner: £200 

Runner-Up: £100 

Semi-Finalists: £50

[otter1962crystalball]

Pride and Spirituality

June 2, 2024

Happy day two of Pride. The idea of spirituality came up in my blog yesterday and I also engaged in a conversation with a fascinating person on FaceBook who read my blog. So, here I go with my take on spirituality - a collection of memories that shaped my beliefs. I’d also like to discuss how this relates to our pride celebrations.

My mind has always been in the clouds. One of my earliest recollections was around three years of age. My mother told me that she came out of the house where we lived at the time and saw me lying on the sidewalk, face up. Her initial response was, of course, alarm seeing her child in such a state. It turned out that I was motionless, intently watching a bird circling far above me. Knowing my habits, I was definitely contemplating something - I have no clue what it was, but I know that I’ve found myself always thinking about many abstract things. That includes spirituality.

In my early years, God was in the same category as Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. He was a bigger than life image in my head based on what I knew at the time. I saw him as a friendly soul that loved me for who I was. As I grew up, I discovered these imaginary friends were made up. Gone were the times of joy when Santa came, or when I found chocolate eggs magically appearing or a quarter under my pillow after losing a tooth. God, however, stayed an friendly enigma - until one fateful day in Sunday School.

We moved to a farm in Southern Ontario when I was around four years old. The closest church was a tiny wooden church belonging to the Free Methodists. Their religion is based on being committed to the authority of the bible and live the life of loving religious integrity. As an adult it sounds rather enticing; until I recall my first wake up call in Sunday School around the age of five.

Our teacher was this severe looking middle-aged white woman dressed in farm clothing sitting in front of us children. We were resting on the cold floor listening to her. She looked down on us, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her message was clear and I can still hear it ringing in my ears more than 50 years later: “If you children don’t behave, God is going to wipe your name out of his book!” Her actions were as severe as her voice. Her hand wiped across an imaginary book with so much fervour that is scared the shit out of me. She didn’t say exactly what it meant to “behave,” but the wildly imaginative me absorbed it and created a totem of fear.

Methodism dictates that believers should be free of sin and live the life according the bible. To be a true Methodist one needed to be someone of perfection signifying the completeness of the Christian character. One would have freedom from all sin, and have possession of all the graces of the Spirit, complete in kind. To a five year old, this gave me nightmares - how could I go to heaven? I was a bad boy!

I didn’t actually belong to the church of the Methodists. We went there for convenience. I was later baptized in a Pentecostal church in town, along with my brothers and sister. While the Pentecostal beliefs aren’t as severe as the Methodists, it was still a place of fear for me.

So here I was, a five year old boy knowing in his heart that he was different than the other children. I didn’t have a name for what I felt - I had a fascination with the other boys and a total disregard for girls’ bodies. I did, however, hang out with girls - but that is a story for later. Everything in my heart said that I was going to hell and that God had already wiped my name out of his book.

I can remember a time after this happened where I questioned God’s motives. Mother was driving us home in the evening after some event in town, when a man my mother knew, approached the car and rattled the door and said hello. He was clearly drunk and mother locked the doors, hunched her shoulders and put the car in gear to leave. I looked out the window and saw the drunken man standing there watching us depart. I asked my mother whether the man would go to hell or not because he was drunk. If I remember correctly, Mom said something to the effect that it was between the man and God. Now, I knew that I had to face God for all that I did or would do.

My parents didn’t go to church. They sent us off on our own. I still don’t really know what their beliefs were as I never asked them. I didn’t think much of their position until they gave me permission to choose whether I wanted to go to church or not at the age of twelve. I believe they were being kind and letting me make the decision. I did make it; not in how they thought I would work out my beliefs, but out of sheer horror that I was a sick, disgusting creature that was going to hell for being interested in boys.

In my years childhood and most of my teenage years, I felt alone and faced all the things that the world threw at me - the bullying, the idea of the bad boy, and shame for being who I was, would be and so on - the tortured soul bound for hell. There are so many stories from that time in my life that I could write about later. Suffice it to say, religion was out of my reach and I avoided it with earnest. 

I can tell you that in all those years since I quit going to church, I’ve been in one a total of three times: one for a midnight Christmas mass with friends alone over the holidays, an Easter service because a friend had seen the light and wanted to go but not alone and a recent visit here in Nova Scotia. Last year I went to an Anglican Church, not far from where I live, to say goodbye to a friend who was the music director there. He was leaving for Ontario and they were celebrating his work with them. The church was also becoming a LGBTQ friendly church and had the celebration on that same day along with their gay pastor. The service was really friendly and non-judgemental. Here was a place that actually welcomed people like me. Quite the surprise!

Now here comes the part about my spirituality. I feel that my beliefs are closer to the First Nations of North America. The idea of Mother Earth and all of us being part of nature makes sense to me. As a gay man, I am not seen as a mistake or an evil thing. I am who I am and whoever the creator is, accepts me as such. To me, there is something that guides me, but doesn’t judge me for my humanly actions. What this exactly means to me is still not clear and I will probably ponder it for my entire life. All I know is that the hatred being spread by religious means is something that frightens me a lot. Dangerous beliefs can be dangerous weapons in the hands of hypocritical believers who preach love - as long as you are like them. If not then we are less than holy. You get my drift...

I no longer feel like a mistake or should be punished for being who I am. My spirituality is my belief in myself, self love and that I can genuinely be who I am without being judged for being gay. The bible pounders and the religious haters have no room in my life. I’ve even thought about attending a few services at that local Anglican church because they are a friendly community and that is what pride is about for me - community - supporting and loving one another; even though we are all so vastly different. What better reason to celebrate: our differences and our diversity?

Happy Pride, everyone. Carpe diem.

[unendlichkeit-1230]

(...) her heart of the sensuality of my principles; she savoured them, and I saw her pretty cheeks colour with that libertine flame that never fails to appear whenever one breaks free of a restraint. “Well then,” she said to me, “what should we do?” “Have our fun with her,” I told her, “and make some money out of her. As for pleasure, you can be sure of that if [you] adopt my principles; as for money, you can be sure of that too as I can use both your old mother and your sister for two different deals that will be very lucrative for us.” Lucile accepts – I frig her, the better to rouse her appetite for crime, and we then get to work on the arrangements. Let us turn to the first of these schemes since it fits into the category of tastes I have to tell you about (even if I am moving it from its proper place in order to follow the order of events) and once you are acquainted with this first part of my plans, I shall enlighten you as to the second. (...)

(...) puder for the Ill people and pinkun’s pellets for all the Pale; gave his mundyfoot to Miserius, her pinch to Anna Livia, that superfine pigtail to Cerisia Cerosia and quid rides to Titius, Caius and Sempronius; made the man who had no notion of shopkeepers feel he’d rather play the duke than play the gentleman; shot two queans and shook three caskles when he won his game of dwarfs; fumes inwards like a strombolist till he smokes at both ends; manmote, befier of him, womankind, pietad!; shows one white drift of snow among the gorsegrowth of his crown and a chaperon of repentance on that which shed gore; pause and quies, triple bill; went by metro for the polis and then hoved by; to the finders, hail! woa, you that seek!; whom fillth had plenished, dearth devoured; hock is leading, cocoa comes next, emery tries for the flag; can dance the O’Bruin’s polerpasse at Noolahn to his own orchistruss accompaniment; took place before the internatural convention of catholic midwives and found stead before the congress for the study of endonational calamities; makes a delictuous entrée and finishes off the course between sweets and savouries; flouts for forecasts, flairs for finds and the fun of the fray on the fairground; cleared out three hundred sixty five idles to set up one all khalassal for henwives hoping to have males; the flawhoolagh, the grasping one, the kindler of paschal fire; forbids us our trespassers as we forgate him; the phoenix be his pyre, the cineres his sire!; piles big pelium on little ossas like the pilluls of hirculeads; has an eatupus complex and a drinkthedregs kink; wurstmeats for chumps and cowcarlows for scullions; when he plies for our favour is very trolly ours; two psychic espousals and three desertions; may be matter of fact now but was futter of magd then; Cattermole Hill, exmountain of flesh was reared up by stress and sank under strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout; entoutcas for a man, but bit a thimble for a maid; blimp, blump; a dud letter, a sing a song a sylble; a byword, a sentence with surcease; while stands his canyouseehim frails shall fall; was hatched at Cellbridge but ejoculated abrood; as it gan in the biguinnengs so wound up in a battle of Boss; Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you’ve gone the way of the Danes; variously catalogued, regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a quacker’s mating, a wenches’ sandbath; (...)

(...) “No? Wanda! For God’s sake! Don’t make fun of me so ruthlessly,” I cried. “Didn’t I personally carry the letter to the prince—?”

“Certainly. A déjeuner invitation.”

“Since our arrival in Florence, you’ve—”

“Remained completely faithful to you,” Wanda retorted. “I swear by all that’s holy to me. I’ve done everything purely to make your fantasy come true, purely for your sake.

“But I will take on an admirer. Otherwise it’s only a halfway measure, and you’ll end up reproaching me for not being cruel enough to you. My dear, beautiful slave! Today you’re to be Severin again, you’re to be only and entirely my lover. I didn’t give your clothes away, you’ll find them here in the chest. Dress the way you did in the small Carpathian resort, where we loved each other so ardently. Forget everything that’s happened since then. Oh, you’ll easily forget it in my arms—I’ll kiss all your cares away.” (...)

(...) And play is not necessarily fun. It is pleasurable, but the pleasures it creates are not always submissive to enjoyment, happiness, or positive traits. Play can be pleasurable when it hurts, offends, challenges us and teases us, and even when we are not playing. Let’s not talk about play as fun but as pleasurable, opening us to the immense variations of pleasure in (...)

(...) It was only too easy for those who met her for the first time, or had no feeling for her creative power, to consider her queer and to make fun at her expense. She was heavy of build and loud of voice, and it was often not easy for one to get the floor in competition with her. She preached mightily, and not as the scribes. She was a rough and simple soul, but her heart was in the right place. Her frankness was never offensive in the least degree. In everyday life she was most unassuming and utterly unselfish; she had a kind and friendly nature. Nevertheless she enjoyed the recognition paid her; she could answer with a bashful smile like a young girl to whom one had whispered a compliment. No one could contend that the Graces had stood by her cradle; but if we in Göttingen often chaffingly referred to her as “der Noether” (with the masculine article), it was also done with a respectful recognition of her power as a creative thinker who seemed to have broken through the barrier of sex. She possessed a rare humor and a sense of sociability; a tea in her apartments could be most pleasurable. But she was a one-sided being who was thrown out of balance by the overweight of her mathematical talent. Essential aspects of human life remained undeveloped in her, among them, I suppose, the erotic, which, if we are to believe the poets, is for many of us the strongest source of emotions, (...)

(...) These things are the frivolous part of study (which is why I also tell you that the men are jesting); and I call these things ‘frivolity’ because even if a man were to learn many or even all such things, he would be none the wiser as to how matters stand but would only be able to make fun of people, tripping them up and overturn-ing them by means of the distinctions in words, just like the people who pull the chair out from under a man who is going to sit down and then laugh gleefully when they see him sprawling on his back.6 The sophists are seen as mere travelling showmen who are occupied solely with the playful. But play has now to give way to the work of uncovering the truth.

Huizinga is probably to be credited with having taught us about the playful character of human action in archaic cultures. But he turns play into something absolute, and he therefore misses the decisive paradigm shift within knowledge transfer in the history of the Occident, namely the transition from myth to truth, which coincides with the transition from play to work. Along the path towards work, thinking gradually distances itself from its origin in play.

The mistrust of play intensif i es in the age of the Enlightenment. Kant subordinates play to work. His aesthetics, for instance, is characterized by the primacy (...)

(...) (I had the most incredible shower of chuckling all over me, in the form of math symbols and Greek letters. I'd guessed who it was: he had played the most—to him—fun game. Ir leg, the two Sanskrit words. Not the meaning ["angry legion"] but a pun. Always puns, a million pun clues. "Ear leg." In the old days my brother-in-law and I made up this Swift: "I feel earassabiele, Tom said," or how-ever. "I feel as if my ear hurts and I need to see a proctologist," Tom said irascibly. There it is. Now, "ir leg" is to ear leg as Irascibly is to that Swifty. And "irascible" is a quasi-phononym for Erasmus. Ear-ass-mus. See? These were the first words which came to me in March and wow, last night. A shower of laughter, since finally I'd guessed. He hadn't counted on chemical aids.)

"Who or what is/was Christ?" Tessa asked me.

"The style we are drawn in," I said. "There is a person seated for artists to draw him; they have a 1.50 minute time limit on their work. All draw him a little differently, all must finish fast and turn it in. Their work is crude, and each has a bit of the subject in it. Our world is that composite work of many artists, and we are those crude drawings with the minute and a half time limit. We do as well as we can, but it's like Disneyland where they do that, various portrait artists with one subject—or if they all had the same subject. It is like Disneyland—fast and not very expert, and still the subject sits and we approximate him. Someone else does the approximating; we are not the artists but the drawings. Hence Plato's concept of the cave and of the idea archetypes."

"Is there reincarnation?"

(I could remember a Saxon scene: an old man bending over me. But what I saw most, and always, as she talked to me, was the cross, in color: gold and red. Shining. And heavy and huge. You'd bounce back if you were a semi truck and hit it. I just kept watching it.)

Then I sat for a couple hours and felt odd, not bad but odd, because all that stuff about Greece and Dionysus was crazy, based on the fact—Tessa and I looked him up—that Erasmus was one of the first Greek (...)

(...) and ambiguous because it is not something.

Having fun is a shared experience, a negotiation of joys and pleasures that requires an effort and occasionally will be impossible to explain. A fun entanglement requires an agreement, a mode of respect of the others we’re having fun with. And fun is essential in playing software because it implies an escape from the regimented world of processes and duties and control. Fun is breaking away from what shall happen and enjoying the surprise and the pleasures of new arrangements. Fun is searching for desirable possibilities beyond what is given as fact, as the way things are, as the way things have been.

Fun can be a horrible thing too because it can be fun to make others miserable. As I argued in chapters 5 and 6, fun can be used to facilitate technologies of oppression. We have to live with the fact that fun is not always fun for all. And that’s why, again, Lugones’s ethos is critical to not only understand but also evaluate the role of playing software in the information age. Fun is the outcome of creating worlds that are open to others, that deny toxic agencies and foster new forms of togetherness. Fun happens in worlds where we can explore others and ourselves.

Playing software is an ethos, a practice that is always absolutely of moral nature. Play is not separate from the world or alien to ethics. Playing is creating worlds, and doing so with an ethos. The cultures that emerge from playing software are subject to ethical scrutiny because they are the result of world making, of the creation of subjectivities, of telling humans, animals, and software who they are, what to do, how to be.

We should be critical when playing software. We should always think about the artificial agencies we meet, how they entangle with us, which worlds are then created and for whom. But we should also have some fun. The information age wants desperately to be the age of command and control of humans and animals and the environment and itself. Playing software makes ambitions relative. It entangles us with these alien agencies; it lets us create worlds, experi (...)

(...) “Shall we take a look at the island?”“What’s the fun in that? There’s nothing to see.”“Don’t be a kill-joy. Come on, let’s go and look,” Honda urged. His voice sounded deep in his chest as he rowed with a lively vigor that suited his years.As Kiyoaki stared fixedly down into the pond, he heard the faint sound of the waterfall far away on the other side of the island; he could not see a great deal because of the cloudy water and the red of the maples reflected in it. There were carp swimming down there, he knew, and at the very bottom snapping turtles lurked in the shelter of the rocks. His childhood fears flared for a moment, then died.The hot sun struck the backs of their close-shaven necks. It was a peaceful, uneventful, glorious Sunday afternoon. Yet Kiyoaki remained convinced that at the bottom of this world, which was like a leather bag filled with water, there was a little hole, and it seemed to him that he could hear time leaking from it, drop by drop.They reached the island at a spot where a single maple stood among the pines, and climbed the stone steps to the grassy clearing at the top with the three iron cranes. The boys sat down at the feet of the pair that were stretching their necks upward in an eternal, (...)

(...) ‘Why … no.’

‘A pity.’

Yet again she laughed, then left.

I stayed on in the dining-room; I sat in the corner with my head bowed.

I would obey, I knew it in advance. I would even contrive to show my mother that she was wrong to make fun of me. When called upon I too would give proof of playfulness, of this I was only too sure. At that point it occurred to me that if I could put on a show of easy behaviour, then perhaps my mother might also have been feigning something she did not truly feel. This notion enabled me to preserve intact the whole edifice of ideas in which I wanted to remain entrenched. By doing so I could respond to the inducements of my fate, which invited me to sink incessantly lower, to go whither my mother was enticing me and to drink my cup with her, drink it the moment she wanted me to, to the dregs … Her playfulness dazzled me, but must I not all the same see that by rendering me carefree, it was the surest means to speed me towards my desired destination, the heart of danger, the vortex of joy? Did I not know that in the end my mother would take me to where she was going? Ever my seductress, the means she now meant to use were infernal debauches, infernal especially because of her seeming dignity. And just as my mother was perpetually fluctuating between brazen disgrace and splendour, amorousness and gravity, so confusion invaded my mind before the uncertain prospect which Rhea’s imaginable levity made upsetting. My mother wishes to have me meet her friend, I said to myself, but am I not mad to leap to the conclusion that she has asked this friend of hers to be my undoing? But, I immediately conjectured, what dancer who was a close friend of hers could help but be party to her wild carrying on?

It was in that fever of suspense I waited. I was drawn to Rhea beforehand. More than drawn to her, I was fascinated by her, this Rhea who could be my introduction into the world which terrified me but which, in my terror, was the subject of all my tho (...)

[a-modernmajorgeneral]

In the Encyclopedia of Clothing and Fashion (2005), Leslie W. Rabine describes the boubou as:

“the classic Senegalese robe, worn by both men and women all over West Africa and in West African diasporic communities of Europe and the United States. Sewn from a single piece of fabric, the boubou is usually 59 inches (150 cm) wide and of varying lengths. The most elegant style, the grand boubou, usually employs a piece of fabric 117 inches (300 cm) long and reaches to the ankles. Traditionally, custom-made in workshops by tailors, the boubou is made by folding the fabric in half, fashioning a neck opening, and sewing the sides halfway up to make flowing sleeves. For women the neck is large and rounded; for men it forms a long V-shape, usually with a large five-sided pocket cutting off the tip of the ‘V.’ When stiffly starched and draped over the body, the boubou creates for its wearer the appearance of a stately, elegant carriage with majestic height and presence. Men wear the classic boubou with a matching shirt and trousers underneath. Women wear it with a matching wrapper or pagne and head-tie.”

This traditional blue indigo-dyed boubou (Fig. 1) is decorated with geometric and figural embroidery which shows the prestige and importance of the wearer. These Islamic motifs were for protection and this boubou was only worn for special occasions.

In the Berg Encyclopedia of World Dress and Fashion: Africa (2010), Babatunde Lawal explains a possible origin for the boubou:

“It has been suggested that the Berbers/Tuaregs from North Africa might have introduced some of these robes and trousers to western and central Africa in the course of the trans-Saharan trade that started before the Christian era and lasted until the late nineteenth century. Some of the earliest evidence of the flowing robe in sub-Saharan Africa comes from a ninth-century c.e. burial site excavated at Igbo-Ukwu in eastern Nigeria.”

This indigo-dyed cotton robe (Fig. 2) is a single piece of fabric which creates the flowing drapery on the body. There is a slit in the center where the wearers head goes through then the rest of the fabric drapes down.

The boubou can also be designed with patterns and imagery. This boubou (Fig. 3) includes alternating strips of fabric sewn together. Both fabric sections are indigo dyed, one being light blue and the other being dark to create a contrasting striped pattern. Around the squared neck hole is geometric hand-sewn embroidery in red, white, brown, and black.

While traditionally a robe for men, in the twentieth century women also began to wear a version of the boubou, as Lawal notes:

 “Women sometimes wear a loose blouse or robe (called boubou in Senegambia and Mali) on top of their wrappers.”

In the Berg Encyclopedia of World Dress and Fashion: Africa (2010), Hudita Nura Mustafa explains the complexity of the boubou:

“While building upon enduring forms and values, dress also possesses a fertile capacity to evolve. For example, billowing boubous, robes of six meters (twenty feet), simply cut and often richly embroidered around the neck, are recognized the world over as traditionally West African. Yet the boubou is not a static symbol of origin but an object of dynamic dialogue between tradition and modernity, hybridity and authenticity. It was further spread by Islamization in the nineteenth century and, while the basic form stays constant, it has its own fashions.”

Mustafa further elaborates:

“Although the basic categories of dress are traditional/African and modern/European, the diversity of styles transcends this opposition. These categories are symbolized in the French suit, the attire of the civilized black Frenchman, and the embroidered boubou, the attire of the traditional Muslim man. The embroidered boubou is, and has always been, the pinnacle of prestige. African dress is associated with religious and traditional ceremonial events, domestic space, and modesty.”

This cotton boubou (Fig. 4) made for a man is embroidered with red, white and blue wool has a squared neck opening for a more masculine effect. The length of this boubou is more conservative and not particularly long and the geometric designs depicted across the front and back show how customizable this garment is.

Boubou tailors in Nouakchott, Mauritania. 

Instagram: ricci_s

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Moving Forward - Chapter 15

*Warning Adult Content*

Mates

They'd fallen asleep on the porch,but Max woke up in his bed with a heavy arm over his waist and a warm presence claiming his back.

He hummed, turning over in the covers and then nuzzling into the crook of Kyle's neck, over the scarred imprint of his teeth.

There was still a little bit of bruising but that would fade over the day with the assistance of Kyle's werewolf healing.

It took a moment for Max to suppress the urge the poke the faint yellowish-green blemish and he moved to press his face into Kyle's chest.

This was what Max wanted.

For the rest of the week, month, year, for as long as it would last because there couldn't be anything better, apart from shifting.

But that was in a different category and couldn't really compare to moments like this.

Moments when it was still early morning and the sun was just beginning to banish the cold from the night before and the heat of the man next to him was radiating throughout the bed.

When he was awake before the man who'd claimed him as his mate and could spend as long as he wanted examining those strong, handsome features.

It was surprisingly difficult not to touch Kyle's face, to not trace those high cheekbones and strong jawline and heavy brow with the lightest touch he could.

It took a moment for Max to realise Kyle's smothering dark eyes were open.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice clogged and husky with sleep.

"Just looking," Max murmured.

In the quiet moment, neither man moved, Kyle apparently content to let Max stare with his feline yellowish-green eyes.

The moment probably would've lasted longer if there hadn't been a howl.

Kyle sat up with just enough urgency to dislodge Max from his arms.

"One of yours?" Max asked, voice low and cautious, despite not moving from where he fell.

It took a moment for Kyle to answer, his eyes flickering as he examined the howl and then he shook his head.

"Not one of mine."

Nothing was said between the pair, even as they left the bed with their hands entwined and stepped out into the open air.

Kyle changed first.

Max waited, keeping watch and then followed River's lead.

Kyle's ears were pushed flat as he went and it was interesting to see how he ran with his head lowered.

Max tended to lower his head anyway but Kyle was close enough now for Max to see him move with more caution and urgency than usual.

They ran quickly, heading in a different direction than what Max was used to.

His claws hadn't marked the trees here, his scent hadn't been left here.

Even as they went, Max couldn't help allowing the scent glands on his paws to leave their mark.

It didn't take long for Max to take to the trees, bounding through the denser branches to conserve the energy he was sure he'd need in the following events.

The trees began to space out a bit.

Not enough to prevent Max from running through them but just enough to make him a little more wary about where he trod and then they stopped.

In front of him was a clearing larger than that of his own home and in the middle of it was basically a mansion.

A huge, mostly clean, white mansion.

Max wasn't sure what he was supposed to do and hesitated to come down.

A few seconds passed before Kyle noticed that Max had stopped and turned around, loping right back.

Pawing at the tree Max was in, Kyle seemed to think Max was stuck up there.

He wasn't but the encouragement was just enough to make Max leap off of the two story high branch he was perched on.

The pair didn't even have to wait to be allowed entry and Max was thoroughly surprised to not be reprimanded for walking on a clean white marble floor with muddy paws.

Kyle didn't waste time changing back.

He was back on two legs within a minute but Max couldn't confidently say he could do the same.

Besides, this wasn't Max's territory.

He didn't know who lived here and staying in jaguar form was a lot safer than trying to get his body to turn back within five minutes.

Striding with those long, strong legs, Kyle looked, well gorgeous, obviously but also wore a serious expression that no doubt meant he knew something was up, grabbing a pair of trousers somewhere along the way and only stopping for seconds to pull them on.

It was a cue that Max didn't miss whilst walking through the unfamiliar hallways, his lithe body keeping up with Kyle's ridiculous speed without a problem.

With barely any time to look around and examine his surroundings, Max only barely noticed the portraits and landscapes that adorned the walls.

The masterpieces of wolves, howling or running, hung up with pride or the ornate green and gold panelled walls.

The only thing he could really take note of was the constant marble floor that he took extreme caution not to damage with his claws, hence why they were retracted for now.

Then Kyle disappeared through a door, Max close behind, only to find a room filled with wolves, well werewolves, most of them were in human form but there were two or three that still had their fur suit on.

They were staring, Max could feel them staring at him as he followed behind Kyle and Max couldn't help it.

His head sunk low between his shoulders and his ears flicked back.

Universal animal language for 'if you come near me, I will bite'.

One of the wolves began a low growl.

It was quiet but audible and was echoed by another.

It was then that Kyle stepped in and from the expression on his face, he clearly felt that it was not something he should've had to do.

He stood directly in front of Max, blocking him the view of the wolves.

"Mine," Kyle growled, voice little more than a snarl but it was enough for them to back down.

"If any of you have a problem with him, you come to me and I'll give you a reason to back the fuck down."

Those in wolf form whined, the majority in human formed mostly appeared uncomfortable but Max was a little confused.

Where were the wolves that came and found them when they were napping on the porch?

This couldn't have been them.

Max's confusion was dismissed with a hand passing through the fur on his neck, signalling to go.

Once again, he followed Kyle's lead into a bigger hall, one with much more wolves to stare at him, plus Kyle's parents and Carter.

The human to wolf ratio in this room was more even and some, Max noticed from his peripheral, even recognised him.

There were a lot of people here though, managing to make Max feel even more threatened, only reigned in by the sensation of Kyle's hand in his fur.

It looked like a ballroom, with a high ceiling and a dais at one end where the Rivers family were seated in full view of the rest of the pack.

It was like being in the presence of royalty.

As they approached, Amelia gave a bright smile, forcing Max to wonder if she recognised him or his scent.

The question was quickly dismissed.

"Hello Max," she greeted warmly.

That was it, that was all Max needed so that he could ignore the other wolves crowded around the ballroom and give that pleased rolling chuff.

He greeted her with the most gentle headbutt to her leg he could and then sat himself down next to Kyle, prepared to be there for longer than he'd prefer.

River's mother handed her son a shirt and then sat in one of the large chairs on the dais.

Her voice rang through the room as she spoke.

"That howl was not one of ours."

[windmill-ghost]

The thing about Splatoon is that the names have always been dumb, so the new band names make perfect sense. “I can’t believe my favorite character would have a less cool name!” The most prominent characters in the series are called Callie and Marie.

[dkakapizzaboy]

Masterlist || Part 1

Category : Smut (NSFW, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem Reader (AU office setting!)

Words: 3.1k approx

Warnings: Smut (Sex), Jealousy, A kind of Sleazy side character, Mentions of Sex Dreams (that’s about it I think, lmk if anything else should be added)

A/N: It’s new year here as I’m typing this, hope you have a happy and healthy 2023! A big thanks to @onlyseokmins and @junhui-recs for their endless support and encouragement as I struggled with this.

Taglist: @junhui-recs

Feedback always helps!

You made your way into the lobby of the five star hotel where your office's annual Christmas party/ charity event was being held. You had a halter style backless gown on, in a deep navy blue, with a simple set of diamond earrings you'd purchased after saving up for a year.

You felt confident.

You felt hot.

But there was only a slight issue.

When Seungcheol had offhandedly commented that you'd probably not be using your plus one pass, you'd rebelliously told him that you actually had a date to bring.

Which was obviously an utter lie but seeing Seungcheol's eyes widen and jaw tighten was well worth it. He'd vehemently declared then, that he too would be bringing a date as well.

You'd looked through your contacts to find a decent person to take with you but you weren’t able to find anyone who was willing or available on such a short notice. That left all the not-so-decent people you knew. And unfortunately the only not so decent person who was available was your ex (well you'd only been on 4 dates back in college) Taeyong. He was hot, and intellegent but a little bit too touchy for your liking. But you determined that you'd rather handle him for four hours than go alone and be bested by Seungcheol.

Speaking (thinking) of Seungcheol, you remembered how he used to hate Taeyong back in the day. There was that one time Seungcheol had accidentally walked in on you two making out at one of the parties when Taeyong had his hand under your shirt, had screamed his head off about locking the door, and his commotion had effectively killed any mood for romance that night. You'd broken it off with Taeyong not long after.

Anyways, back to present day, you stood with Taeyong, waiting for the elevator to take you down to the basement hall where the party was being held. You saw Seungcheol coming in, hand in hand with a gorgeous girl in a pretty white dress, and for some reason, you felt like yanking their hands away from each other.

Seungcheol saw you first, looking like every man's dream with the low cut backless dress and he visibly gulped. He then saw who were standing with and for lack of a better proverb, he saw red. Taeyong was literally a piece of shit, why did you have to bring him of all people. In his rage, Seungcheol squeezed his fists a bit too tightly, causing his date to audibly yelp from pain.

He quickly apologized to Yeojin, one of his childhood friends who had only agreed to come with him if he would babysit her little brother whenever she pleased during the winter break when she was out with her boyfriend.

Taeyong saw Seungcheol and gave a quick smirk his way before wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you a bit closer than you were expecting. You begrudgingly went along, as you had to sell the act.

"Fancy seeing you here Seungcheol, oh right, you'd told me you both work together babe." Taeyong's acting was impressive, you had to admit.

Seungcheol introduced Yeojin to you as the four of you got in the lift. Seungcheol still had his jaw locked, trying to keep his anger at bay as his eyes kept focusing automatically on Taeyong's hand on your bare back.

He knew it was irrational to feel this way but he had never liked the guy. Even back in college, he seemed like a sleazer, bragging about his "number" to anyone who'd listen and frankly you were too good for him. He wouldn't admit it to himself even, but he was happy when you'd ended things off quickly back then.

The elevator dinged open and as you were about to greet your manager, he pointed towards the ceiling to the mistletoe hanging.

It was a silly old tradition, forcing people to fluster for others' enjoyment.

Seungcheol practically rolled his eyes as he gave Yeojin a quick peck on the cheek and eagerly looked towards the other pair.

Taeyong, on the other hand, took his sweet time, looking at you a bit too intimately for your liking before giving a kiss on the corner of your jaw, almost on your neck as his fingers slid down your back to rest right above your hip.

To anyone else, it would've looked innocent enough but Seungcheol was fuming. He didn't know if he was imagining things but you looked furious as well.

After greeting your manager, you pulled Taeyong to the side as you made it very clear in a fake, sweet smile, to tone it down a notch and a half, or you were going to break his fingers. Your terms were perfectly clear before coming in, all he had to do was stand by your side, smile at people and eat and drink whatever he wanted. It's not like Taeyong wasn't getting anything out of this "date". He worked for a hedge fund and this party was a gold mine of investors he could approach.

Taeyong left you to get you both drinks from the bar. He saw Seungcheol ahead of him, ordering drinks for his date and himself as well. It was the perfect opportunity to fuck with him.

Taeyong knew there was something under the surface between you and Seungcheol the moment he saw Seungcheol staring at you and practically (figuratively) drooling while you were waiting for the elevator. His suspicion was further confirmed when Seungcheol had looked at him like he wanted to punch him in the face when Taeyong had grabbed you by the waist.

Taeyong didn't really have anything against Seungcheol besides the fact that he'd cockblocked him that one time in college, his only chance to sleep with you.

He greeted Seuncheol with his old college nickname, like they were long lost friends.

"Scoups, so how many countries did you have to check off before you realised that home is indeed the sweet, sweet place to be."

Seungcheol didn't really want to talk to him, but he also didn't want to ignore him and potentially cause a scene, so he reluctantly continued the conversation.

" Three, but in six years, I realised that most of them are just lazy fuckers honestly. I like the challenge our home, as you aptly called it, offers." Scoups summarised, his thoughts taking him back to the college rivalry the two of you had shared and how much it had helped him grow.

"Oh I know exactly what you mean, see now last time if you remember, you had annoyingly cockblocked me with my beautiful date who I have with me today, but now, years later, I'm going to conquer this unfinished challenge, hopefully tonight," he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Taeyong knew he was pushing Scoups's buttons but he didn't really care. It was fun. There was also the fact that Taeyong knew you weren't really interested in him and he'd rather chase investors than chase someone who's interested in someone else. That wasn't really his vibe. So riling up Scoups didn't really impact him in any way negatively.

You were waiting for Taeyong when Seungcheol's date came up and stood next to you, seemingly because she didn't really know anyone else while he was also at the bar getting their drinks.

"So Yeojin," you awkwardly started a conversation to get rid of the suffocating silence that was starting to build," how did you and Seungcheol meet?"

"We both grew up together on the same street. So I've known him ever since we were kids." Yeojin replied as she finally saw Seungcheol coming back with their drinks.

She saw him eye you with something akin to longing, but his expression soon turned exasperated as your date caught upto him.

Seungcheol was really trying. If there was a god, it knew how hard Seungcheol was truly trying to not punch Taeyong where it hurt.The man was absolutely infuriating and to top that he couldn't stop picturing you and Taeyong, his hands on you, you moaning his na- yup he was going mad.

And it was all your fault, for inviting him while wearing that sexy dress and your pretty face and that damn low back- fuck he just really wanted to feel if the skin was indeed as soft as it looked, and how you'd react if he ran his fingers along the curve of your spine.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as your manager clinked his glass and started giving a toast, thanking everyone for their contribution to a noble cause and requesting everyone to join for a cheesy slow dance- like in the movies (he wanted to be funny).

As your manager's eyes fell on you and Seungcheol, you reluctantly pulled Taeyong to the dance floor, as did Seungcheol with Yeojin. It was a slow song, you both were gently swaying as your eyes landed on Seungcheol, who was facing you around 5 ft away. His eyes bore into yours, drawing you in as you gently swayed in the arms of Taeyong, but it felt like you were actually dancing with Seungcheol, as you could see his hand on Yeojin's back and you could almost, in some weird sort of telepathy, imagined him actually holding your waist, his hand on your bare back, one of yours on his neck, gently playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, while the other intertwined with his other hand.

The whole world had vanished, all you could see is the intensity with which he was looking at you, making you almost feel breathless.

Five feet away, Seungcheol was feeling the exact same emotions as you, your eyes, your lips pulling him. It's funny, when the evening had first started, he believed it was due to the dress, but as he recalled your previous interactions, he could always see something attracting him towards you, the way he was jealous of Taeyong, even back in college, the way he craved the competition with you as it was the only time you actually interacted with him, giving him your full attention and respect, it was all hitting him like one brick after the other.

After the song ended, Yeojin and Seungcheol excused themselves off the dance floor. Yeojin had received a message that her babysitter had a family emergency and so she would have to rush back home, her boyfriend was going to pick her up in a bit.

Seungcheol's hormones had completely taken over him within about three minutes, the duration of the first song. He was on auto pilot now, guided by his emotions, any cohesive, logical thoughts dulled by the loud thumping of his heart. His legs made way to where you and Taeyong were dancing, and he tapped Taeyong's shoulder.

"Mind if i cut in?" Seungcheol asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

Taeyong thought about saying no, but decided against it. If he were to get any investors from this event, it was imperative that he didn't cause a scene.

So he quietly excused himself to the side of the dance floor.

Seungcheol placed a hand on your lower back, and mentally cursed when he realised that your skin was way softer than he had been imagining in his wildest dreams.

His hands, one in yours, and the other one on your bare back was setting your skin ablaze. Especially because he'd unconsciously started rubbing his thumb up and down your spine. He was looking at you like you were the only one that mattered in the world, and suddenly everything clicked in place, and you didn't want to waste even a single second more.

He was about to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Never in a million years had he heard anything sexier.

"I saw Yeojin's wallpaper on her phone when she was standing next to me. It was her kissing another guy. I know she's not your girlfriend, and I brought Taeyong just because you commented that day that i didn't have anyone to use my plus one pass. It was stupid."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, his silence had now started to make you nervous. Had you read the entire situation wrong? Oh god, how were you ever going to work in the same room again? What we-

"Your place or mine? Actually fucking scratch that, I can't fucking wait long enough to drive, let's just get a room here." Seungcheol growled in your ear, his composure was slipping and his fingers were curling against your back into a fist as he pulled you as close as he dared.

You were thankful he was supporting you as your legs went limp.

He smirked.

Fuck.

Both of you counted down the seconds for the song to end, a couple of minutes feeling like an eternity.

And when it finally did, neither of you had the patience to say goodbye to anyone as you both dashed off from the party.

But as it was you and Seungcheol, a couple of competitive souls, you had a quick quarrel at the reception counter as to who would pay for the room, fighting only feuling the desire. In the end it was decided that Seungcheol will give his card and you would pay him half later, or this was only be a one time thing, you'd warned.

The elevator was leading you up now, as both of you stood at the opposite ends of the elevator, a silent agreement to wait until you were in a 100% private setting, with no one to interrupt.

You knew in your bones he was going to make you see stars, by the way he was staring at you, devouring you with his eyes. Your felt a blush creeping up your face.

He didn't even wait for the door of your hotel room to fully close as he backed you up against the nearest wall, his knee between your legs, his hands on either side of you against the wall, his strong body cocooning you.

"Are you sure?" He rasped, his eyes boring into yours, your foreheads almost touching.

Fuck, was he always this hot?

He didn't wait for even a split of a second after you said yes, desperately joining his lips to yours.

He kissed you hard, years and years of emotions, that were long subdued by his brain, pouring into the kiss, with lip biting and teeth clanking.

There would be a next time where you'd both take your time to gently explore each other but tonight, this first time, you were both starving for each other.

He was now sucking your bottom lip between his when you suddenly froze, making his immediately stop and take a few steps back.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you want to stop?" He searched your face, his worry clearly evident in his eyes.

"We don't have a condom."

"Ooh, I always have one in my wallet, you know for emergencies like these." he said smugly.

"Oh really, and how often has this come to use?" You taunted him as you backed him the edge of the bed, taking off his blazer and tie.

Your hands had started to work on the buttons of his shirt as he answered sheepishly.

"Well, hoping that I'd get to use one today, exactly once. What, girls in the west usually had one with them so I never needed to use mine."

Your laugh died in your throat as you finally took off his shirt, your hands running across his well defined torso and shoulders.

"God really has his favorites," you purred as your hands and mouth started exploring his upper body, while he got to work trying to take your dress off, and miserably failing.

"For fuck's sake, how do you take this damn thing off?"

You lips murmured against his neck that there were buttons at the back of your neck.

You stepped out of the dress as he flipped positions and gently lowered your body on bed.

There was no awkwardness, no shyness, as if it wasn't your first time together, and he was looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world, with such awe, you felt beautiful.

His hands, followed by his lips, touched, kissed, sucked and licked down your body, learning what made you gasp and tighten your grip in his hair.

Seungcheol was in heaven, your quiet sounds and wandering hands making him harder and harder in his pants.

You decided you'd had enough foreplay for the first time, you were dangerously close to an orgasm, desperately craving to join your bodies together.

You pulled him up for a kiss as your hands worked on his belt and buttons of his trousers. You palmed him over his underwear and he let out an animalistic grunt, further fueling your arousal.

He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, never breaking the kiss, as he shoved his other hand between your legs, satisfied with how wet you were.

He quickly rolled the condom on and dived into you, left hand fondling your left nipple and right hand between your legs, rhythmically stroking your clit with his thumb.

The combination of this his hands and his thrusts made you dissolve into pleasure first, closely followed by him.

He rolled off of you and discarded the condom, you both now lay on the bed facing each, only hands touching as you come off of the high.

"Fuck, you don't know how many times I've had wet dreams of us like this over the years, you in that black dress you wore at the last college party. But this way, way fucking better than my imagination," you smile at him, as his fingers gently stroke your palm.

"Also, I think we can effectively say that I'm on top when it comes to sex" his eyes were now mischievous and you saw cocky smile on his face.

"Really? Because from my perspective you did all the work and I just laid there and enjoyed a mind blowing orgasm."

Cut to the party:

"10 bucks say they aren't coming back for another 20 minutes" Taeyong challenged Yeojin as they saw both of you zooming out.

"I'll bet a 100 that they're not coming back at all," your manager smiled knowlingly behind them, making them both jump.

It was about time.

A/N: Yeojin and Taeyong were the characters from The Golden Spoon, a show I recently finished. I linked the actors if you were curious what they looked like :)

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Genuinely wondering, if you like S8 then what is it you like about it? I make an honest effort to see what you see but it's just trash. Trash everywhere. I challenge yoou to name 5 things you like about it.

Is this about Game of Thrones? I'm assuming it is, so this should be fun.

I'm not saying Season 8 is award-worthy television. It's one of the weaker seasons for sure. In general, I dislike that the decision to shorten it to six episodes, just as I disliked the choice to shorten Season 7. I also don't like how Doctor Who's seasons have been gradually shortening over time since the Capaldi Era. I just really wish shows would stop doing this. Why actively choose to give us less content? We like your shows! Let us have more! Take the time you need to tell your stories! Ah well, if only these seasons were a bit longer, I feel like they wouldn't be hated quite so much. Though some of the decisions in Season 8 were so universally despised that it might not matter. I'll get to a couple of them. But as you wish, I shall list five things about the eighth season that I unironically loved. Nah, I'll go you one better. Here's ten:

10: Varys' Death. We can talk for hours about all of the terrible events of S8E5, but I don't think this falls under the same category. It's easy to forget that Varys died in this episode because it happens right at the start and, let's be honest, most fans probably just remember this episode as the one where Dany spends 75% of the runtime torching King's Landing. This is the episode that "killed the show" for the general fandom. But Varys' death was perfectly handled. It was foreshadowed in Season 7 extremely well, and much like Littlefinger's death, it's a fitting end for his character. Varys played his games, and they caught up with him. Sure, he did so for noble reasons, but he was still playing with literal fire. I also don't think Daenerys was wrong to kill him, even if I wept to lose such a fine character and honorable man. She vowed to execute him if he betrayed her. In this episode, he spread secrets to undermine her and it's suggested that he tried to poison her. He would still have been a threat from a prison cell, as he has all of his "little birds" and what's more, if Dany doesn't honor her promise, then she's sending the message that her word as Queen means nothing. This was a powerful death, exactly what makes Game of Thrones so great.

9: The conclusion of Theon's character arc. Seriously, as much as I didn't want to lose him, I feel like he'd been marked for death for a while. Had he survived, I believe a small part of him would always have that self-sacrificial death wish, that belief that he didn't deserve to still be alive. He went down a hero, protecting The Starks. Protecting the same boy that he'd once betrayed. Well...not exactly the same person but close enough. Considering how a few other character arcs ultimately ended, I'd say Theon takes the cake for having the best one. He grew up uncertain of who he was, and then he thought he found himself, but he was wrong, so he lost himself - and how. But eventually, he emerged from the dark and reclaimed his identity and his true family. I don't even mind how easily he got defeated. He was never much of a warrior, the strength in his character always came from his emotional complexity. Much like Jaimie, he's the sort of person that initially, you despise and can't imagine yourself feeling for. And yet it creeps up on you, because these people are complex. They're not black and white. Well, some of them are, but not Jaime, (I'll...I'll get to him.) and not Theon.

8: Arya and Sandor's farewell. I'm gonna cheat a little bit for this one, because personally, I do not like Sandor's ending at all. I know everyone loved the Clegane Bowl but that was probably the worst ending he could have gotten. How does it service his character arc at all to fight his brother? To die fighting him? To die fighting him in fire? It doesn't even feel poetic like Jaime's death does. But! Enough about that. We need to talk about the positives. And seriously, few things get me as choked up as hearing Arya call Sandor by his first name. The acknowledgment of their bond. It's some weird blend between former enemies/rivals, big brother/sister, and father/daughter. It's hardly conventional but it's one of my favorite friendships in the entire series. Sandor was always ultimately good, but it took Arya (and Sansa, to a lesser extent) to bring out that side in him, and it took Ray and his friends for Sandor to start accepting it. He entrenched himself in hate for so long and he could see himself in Arya, which gave him pride, but also made him wary. He didn't want her to be like him, not completely. He tells her to save herself, and not inherit the bad parts of his legacy, and Arya finally lets go of her obsession with revenge after the literal embodiment of revenge tells her that it ain't all it's cracked up to be.

7: Jorah's Death. Hot damn, did he go out like a fucking hero. Saving Dany's life yet again, leading her to safety, and-is that Dany holding a sword? Oh hell yeah! Where has this been all my life? Jorah just protecting her to the last, wielding Heartsbane in Sam's stead, which I take as a symbol of their friendship and if you like, a sign that Sam doesn't have any hard feelings toward Jorah for serving Dany, despite what she did to his family. Jorah sustaining multiple fatal wounds throughout the fight, and yet - and yet! He friggin refuses to go down until the White Walkers collapse and he knows Dany's safe. And in the end, he can't even say anything? Oh, my heart. That's painful, and it's realistic too. Sometimes, if you've been stabbed in the chest and you're dying...you physically can't get any words out. Dany's expression, Jorah's expression...oh, it kills me. Drogon landing to shield Dany and mourn Jorah as well? I'm dead. Destroyed. I'd also be remiss not to mention the absolute badassery that is Lyanna. Consider this a shoutout to House Mormont in general, as I am a major fan of theirs. Lyanna, who's all of eleven years old, insists on fighting in the war. She dies, yes, but she takes out a fucking giant first. I'm sorry, y'all can call this kid a bored meme all you like, but your criticisms will be drowned out in the absolute earth-shattering thunder of her storm. She's too cool for you, she's too cool for me, she's too cool for anyone.

6: Tormund. Just, just Tormund. He never fails to make me smile and laugh, and say what you will about some of the other characters, but they didn't miss a single beat with Tormund on this cycle. Seriously, there wasn't any line he had, not a one, that was not perfect. When he tackled Jon in S8E2? "My little crow." God, they are such bros and it makes me so happy. In the first episode at the end, "I've always had blue eyes!" I've got to hand it to the actor, and yes, the writing, for how Tormund was an endless breath of fresh air, and he even got an emotional farewell with Jon in S8E4. Seriously, this character has such heart, and he's so funny. The scene where he's lamenting his woes and his heartbreak about Brienne choosing Jaime, and the camera pans out to reveal a pissed off Sandor being forced to listen to him blubber? I had to pause the damn thing because I cracked up so hard. But my favorite line of his? I'd have to go with his exchange with Jon about how they need to be celebrating. "Vomiting isn't celebrating." And then Tormund, with a straight face. "Yes it is." Seven hells, what a riot. And yeah, I know, I know, he drunkenly rambles on about how badass it is that Jon climbed onto a Dragon, and "kinda forgot" he'd also ridden one himself. Or, y'know, maybe he was referring to people who have actually "piloted" dragons rather than just being passengers, which only Jon, Dany, and the Night King have ever done. Or maybe he was just drunk, guys. That was quite clear during the scene...I swear, some of these complaints are just confusing...

5: Melisandre's death. That's it. Just, that it happened. Not as satisfying or cathartic a death as I would have hoped, but boy am I glad she's dead and I don't care if that's petty. Rest in peace, Shireen. You deserved so much better and you are at last avenged - well, sort of.

Alright, alright, the real #5: Jaime's Death. Okay, flame shields up, let me offer my disclaimer. This was not the ending I wanted for Jaime, not by a longshot. I'm a Braime shipper and I hate Cersei as much as the next fan, possibly more. Even so, as I alluded to earlier, there's a kind of poetry to Jaime and Cersei's death that I cannot ignore. I can somewhat defend the choice to have Jaime go back to her because, let's face it - that relationship is abusive. Jaime has resigned himself to this idea that he can never be a good person because he's done bad things, because he still cares about Cersei, who will always be a bad person. He knows she's never going to change, but he can't let go of her. It's a crying shame because he was on the road to recovery, and I can understand the idea that his character arc was thrown away. I'm not saying I disagree, but I still think of Jaime as a victim and his death as a circular tragedy. Just because the writers make a choice we disagree with or would have done differently, doesn't automatically mean it's bad writing. I don't understand the complaint that Cersei was killed by falling rocks. So? That final moment was unironically beautiful, and sad. The final shot of them being buried choked me up. It's telling that as much as I despise Cersei, I couldn't enjoy her death. How is it "lame" that she was killed by a collapsing building? Besides, Daenerys may not have swung a sword at them, but she's clearly the one who killed them? Besides, if it had never happened, we wouldn't have gotten that gut-wrenching scene of Tyrion unearthing the golden hand and sobbing, hitting the rock on the ground. Or the badass moment where he quits as Daenerys' Hand.

4: Sansa and Daenerys' rivalry. I'm not sure why people disliked this so much, when it's literally the same kind of conflict we've always had. Game of Thrones, for the most part, doesn't have heroes and villains. It has three dimensional people who all have their own political agendas, and Sansa and Dany's agendas were in serious conflict. This is like complaining that Renly and Stannis were at odds with each other. It's just always been a part of the show and I thought it was realized pretty well. Whether you side with the Starks, with Dany, or you think they're both being stupid, it's easy to understand where each of them is coming from. It's a well crafted debate and both sides have good points. And I love how it's not about Jon - it's literally about Northern independence. Sansa is in overprotective sister mode but she also just generally doesn't trust Dany, and Dany knows it. Sansa shows what she's learned from her mentors when she betrays Jon, and yet paradoxically she also proves how much she cares about him. Sansa's betrayal matters a lot, and while I know some fans hate her for it, there was no way she was ever going to do anything else. This response was exactly in character. As was Daenerys' begging Jon to keep his heritage secret and resenting him for not agreeing to. It's a hell of a thing to ask, but Dany's been working toward the throne for the last seven years - and what, all of a sudden it's going to be snatched away because some secret *male* relative shows up at the eleventh hour? Yeah, if I were her, I'd think that was some bullshit as well.

3: Jon's realization about his identity. Alright, I know the memes. Jon only has two lines throughout the season, "I dun want it" and "muh queen" (Frankly, those memes have become more annoying than the actual problems with Jon's character in the show. Seriously, that joke is more dead than Ned Stark, just let it rest.) I agree that not nearly as much was done with Jon's heritage and that his overall role in this season was a passive one - until the end, anyway. But that scene in S8E1 is an actual masterpiece. Jon and Sam reunited in the most wholesome hug, Jon learning the truth at last, not being able to cope with it, the question being raised of who would be better. The discussion about Ned. It's just a magnificent scene. Sam was the perfect person to tell him, and it helps that he also finds out about Dany killing Sam's family in the same scene. I absolutely love the line where Sam asks if Dany would give up a crown to save her people because for better or for worse, S8 kind of suggested that she was not, and would not. It really kicked the conflict of the season, the tension between Jon and Daenerys, into overdrive, and I appreciate that. I appreciate that the scene happened in the crypts as well, and how significant that location has been to this storyline. Hell, you could call this whole scene a narrative mirror to Robert and Ned's scene by Lyanna's statue all the way back in Episode 1.

2: Arya killing the Night King. Oh yeah, I said it, I love this. It blows my mind that there are fans who are genuinely devastated that it was Arya, based on fan reception I've seen. First of all, she makes perfect sense - she has the skillset to sneak up on the Night King. This gets into a bigger fallacy I've noticed where fans who hate Arya will simultaneously complain that she's overpowered, and that she never uses her face-changing abilities. Like, which is it, guys? Sometimes I just think people want to hate her, and for the life of me, I don't get why. She spent two whole seasons training to be a master assassin. People hate that storyline too, but they seem to forget it happened when they criticise Arya. (Though believe me, I'm right there with the folks who are mad about the final fight with the Waif. I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept that she survives those wounds, but do not show her running the very next day, because no. That would not happen.) Second of all, am I the only one who thought that the Night King's death wasn't about who did it, but how it was done? The Catspaw Dagger, the weapon that was used to try and kill Bran all the way back in Episode 2, ultimately saved his life and ended The Long Night. The narrative thread that was resolved with this death wasn't the killer, it was the weapon. But that's just my two cents. I know a lot of people wanted it to be Jon, including Kit Harington himself, but the fact that it wasn't doesn't mean they were just trying to "subvert expectations."

1: Jaime Knighting Brienne. I said before that I was a Braime shipper, but you don't have to be one to appreciate this incredible scene. It was preceded by Jaime's trial, which I also enjoyed, and especially the moment where Brienne speaks out in his defense. It was so damn satisfying to see someone do so and Brienne was the perfect person. Their bond has been built up over the last five seasons and never mind romantic tension, there's a mutual respect going on here, and recurring themes about honor and loyalty and what it means to be a Knight. Jaime's own tricky relationship with all of these values, and how he carries the title anyway. Brienne being the picture perfect example of what a Knight should be and yet not having the rank, having always been held back. This moment is satisfying because holy fuck did Brienne earn this. And it warms my heart to see how happy it makes her, for however much she claimed she didn't want it. And not only did Jaime make logical sense for the person who would do it, narrative-wise, he is absolutely perfect and the only real choice. It just blows my mind how much I love this scene, and really this entire episode. The episode is even named for her, as damn well it should be. I've talked about this before but between Jaime and Brienne fighting together, the two pieces of Ice are reunited to defend Winterfell and that's kind of perfect. I'm gonna have to stop myself now because I could easily gush for another five minutes about this flawless scene and how Season 8 is honestly underrated. Far from perfect, but also far from the travesty that most make it out to be.

[gryffindordaughterofathena]

OK, question time!

Back in med school, it was well known that many students admired Ethan Ramsey’s work (Diana included). Now she attends a medical school alumni reunion at her alma matter. And everybody knows that Diana and Ethan are dating/engaged/married. What’s their former classmates’ reaction when they see her? Do they gossip about it? Do they treat her differently? Does Ethan attend the event as her plus one or does Diana attend by herself because plus ones are not allowed?

You asked this ages ago, but I wanted to answer this with a fic, I am so sorry for the long wait😭

INVISIBLE STRING

Book : Open Heart

Pairing : Ethan Ramsey x Diana Ramirez

Word Count : 864 words

Rating : General

Category : Fluff

Trope : And that med-school ex

Warning : None

Summary : Ethan and Diana attend a med school reunion and find things that connected them for years.

A/N : Are we surprised that the title is another TS song? Also, E and D were both from JHU, so technically they are each other's plus ones.

In the dim string lights strewn across the campus grounds two lone figures walk, their hands entangled in a practiced ease. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this.", the man says, his feet dragging in feigned reluctance.

"Because I am your wife and the love of your life and you can't say no to me?"

"Who said anything about the love of my life?"

"You take that back right now Ethan Ramsey.", her face scrunches up in a pout, which immediately softens as Ethan bends down to kiss her.

"I promise we'll leave the moment it starts getting weird or boring."

"I'll hold you to that promise Rookie."

………….…….…………..

"Is that Ethan Ramsey?"

"With Diana Ramirez?"

"I heard they were married?"

"Is it though? There was nothing in the tabloids?"

"I heard he is extremely private."

"Have you seen him? I'd be private too."

Whispers followed them as they made their way through the hall, whispers they were quite accustomed to by now.

"They are talking about us. Again." Ethan grumbles for what seems to be the hundredth time.

"Just a few minutes more and Arjun and Caitlin will be here soon. And then we can be around normal people. Till then we can go chat with some of our professors. I heard that Professor Mori will be here, let's go meet her."

………….…….…………..

The older woman's face splits into a dazzling smile the moment she spots Diana tugging along Ethan with her.

"If it isn't my two favorite students together.I didn't think you would come"

"Diana forced me obviously."

"At least one of you is the voice of reason then.", the familiarity of the well practiced gentle admonishment from Professor Mori was enough to put them at ease.

"So how long have you two been married?"

"Since last October actually."

"And in these five months she has already worked her magic on you, didn't believe I'd see the day Ethan Ramsey will bring a date to a reunion, much less a wife."

"It's the other way round actually, I am here as her plus one."

"Hah! How the turntables, Diana's been making news lately, your paper on vestibular ataxia has been garnering a lot of good reviews these days.", she turned to Diana. "Actually I wanted to talk about it with you. If you could spare a few minutes."

………….…….…………..

"I am surprised you actually showed up Ethan.", a voice he hadn't thought of in years, startled him from his reverie.

Isabella White

"Although I had a feeling you would be here this year, what with your fairly unknown wife needing all the introductions in our field."

"You really should broaden your horizons regarding the people you share an alumni matter with Doctor White."

"What do you mean?"

"The fact that Doctor Ramirez, youngest keynote speaker at WHO medical symposium doesn't need introductions at her own med school."

The approaching figure in red, draws his attention in a way that he misses the smug smile on Isabella's face fall.

"Hey sorry, I couldn't get away from Doctor Toussaint and his team faster, got into the bit where he started recounting the day Sienna told you he was asking for you."

"Of course he would say that."

"Oh who's that you're talking with?"

"This is Dr. Isabella White, we were in the same year."

"We dated back in our Med School days."

"Oh Tobias and Ethan told me a lot about you." Her smile, successful enough to hide her steely gaze.

Fighting fire with fire

"Well we should be going, it was nice meeting you." From her tone it was anything but.

………….…….…………..

"So, where are you taking me?"

"The place where I went to think."

"Are you sure it's not the library?"

"No, that's the spot where I went to not think."

Starlight and string lights lead them through the campus, through memories of bygone days.

Diana leads him to a sheltered alcove by the internal medicine building.

"I used to come here alone, with your book."

"This place hasn't changed a bit."

"I didn't think anyone knew about this place."

"Probably not many people do, people hardly come here to the back."

"But you did."

"In my final year after the falling out with Tobias, I found this place, I used to sit here and—"

"brood?", a soft adoring smile plays on her face.

"Yeah probably."

"See this little broken edge? That was me."

"I always thought who would have an agenda against garden decorations"

Sitting in silence was never difficult for them as long as they had their fingers intertwined.

It was Diana who broke the silence, "I just find it odd that we both found this place in our different times here, I know you don't believe in soulmates but—"

He doesn't let her continue, his sudden movement in drawing her to him silencing her mid-speech.

His lips captures hers in the blink of an eye, the wind picking up the little murmured, "no, but I am starting to."

A/N : If you've read this far, thank you ❤ this fic probably doesn't make much sense (I am terribly sleep deprived) but I wanted to write Ethan being starry eyed about how amazing his wife is, so you get this 🤷🏾‍♀

Tags : @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

Perma :

@a-crepusculo | @choicesfanaf | @coffeeheartaddict2 | @crazy-loca-blog | @genevievemd | @headoverheelsforramsey | @jamespotterthefirst | @jerzwriter | @maurine07 | @mm2305 | @natureblooms24 | @potionsprefect | @quixoticdreamer16 | @rookiemartin | @rosebudde | @schnitzelbutterfingers | @shreyasrivathsa | @sincerelyscarring | @sweetheartdetectivex | @terrm9 | @zahrachoices

Ethan x Diana :

@detective-rose | @queencarb

[tootiredmotel]

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good." 

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary. 

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue. 

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

Misto’s Mating Dance Partners

Because the White Cat Lift AKA Mating Dance scene of the Jellicle Ball focuses mainly on Victoria and whoever she’s dancing with, what’s going on in the background is often ignored. But, there’s a clear pattern. The other cats pair off, go to the edges of the stage, forming a circle around Victoria and Her Man. They then do...whatever. There don’t seem to be official rules for what the pairs do, so some of them nap, some of the stare out into space, some of them cuddle...

And some of them blatantly fuck.

This scene is often called the Cat Orgy because of the blatant fucking that often occurs. So, you can watch the characters, see who pairs up with who and whether or not they fuck. Because Misto is my favorite character and one of the easiest to identify in even low-quality bootlegs, I went and watched him during this scene in every production in my bootleg collection.

Part One: Failure

In several of the older productions, I couldn’t see anything. Bootleggers and professionals alike tended to zoom in on Victoria and Her Man and stay there for most of the scene. Mexico 1991 mainly did this. Also, Vienna, with its Dark Voids and Weird Editing Choices was impossible to decipher.

Among the newer productions, Madrid was lost to Weird Editing Choices. Most of the dance wasn’t even visible! There were long close ups on Old Deuteronomy and Grizabella doing nothing when they should have been filming Victoria and Plato doing Something. It wasn’t even like they were distracted by an interesting background event. They just held the camera on characters who weren’t doing anything other than Reacting Slightly.

Part Two: Mistoria

Paris and Zurich paired Misto with Victoria for the Mating Dance. There was a slightly different dynamic with Misto and Victoria than there is when Plato or Tumblebrutus is Victoria’s Man. When Plato or Tumble, the most common choices for this part, approach Victoria, they’re awkward, but they still sort of take the lead. Victoria comes across as a bit shy at first, but she quickly gets into it. In the Mistoria versions, Misto is far more nervous approaching and often jumps back startled after touching Victoria. It feels like Victoria takes the lead in these versions, turning her back and basically being like “lift me”. Zurich Misto in particular is practically freaking out and the lift is kind of bizarre to watch because he looks so tiny!

Part Three: You’d Think Misto/Cassandra Would Be a Bigger Ship

Broadway-based productions, which paired Alonzo with Demeter, seemed to love pairing Misto with Cassandra for the Mating Dance. Troika and Buenos Aires did this and they did it in the same way. Misto and Cassandra practically have a dance of their own, performing the same motions when paired together. Usually, these pairs tend to seem like they’re improvising a little, but this specific couple has its own choreography.

The idea to pair Misto and Cassandra most likely comes from Misto later choosing Cassandra as his “lovely assistant” when he brings back Old Deuteronomy. In most productions, they don’t have much interaction outside of that. In Troika, Cassandra is also one of the cats who sometimes stands in for Coricopat and Tantomile, who were cut. Coricopat and Tantomile’s twin stuff was given to Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, while a lot of their psychic moments were given to either Demeter or Cassandra. So, in Troika, Misto and Cassandra are both mystical cats of some sort, which brings them together, because it’s something other cats don’t get.

I’m not super into this ship, because I generally don’t ship Misto with women, but the implications of the pairing in the Troika version are interesting.

Part Four: Lonely Misto

Hamburg, The German Tent Tour, and probably Moscow didn’t pair Misto with anyone. He just sat by himself. In Hamburg, there was a reason for this. Just like how Buenos Aires and Troika gave Misto’s role of fetching Old Deuteronomy to Skimble, Hamburg has a Mistotable instead of a Skimbletable.

I probably should’ve listed Moscow as a failure, but I’m still not sure what happened there.

The German Tent Tour just has Misto sitting by himself. He crawls to the Cuddle Pile, does a handstand, and no one cares.

But, the German Tent Tour shows signs of being part of a trend. While earlier, Broadway-based shows liked pairing Misto and Cassandra, newer productions never seem sure who to pair him with, so you have this scene of a lonely Misto surrounded by happy, horny straight couples and looking a bit out of place. This was probably unintentional, but it gives Misto an extra layer of gay coding.

Part Five: More Recent Stuff That Doesn’t Fit in the Other Categories

The 2013 UK Tour does something a bit interesting. Misto just sort of naps during the Mating Dance, but Carbucketty, who’s been following him around and imitating his dance moves for the past few minutes, lies down to nap at his feet. They don’t really interact and they’re barely touching, but it still counts as a pair. This is the closest I’ve gotten to finding a version where Misto’s paired with a tom. Of course, compared to most of the straight couples in any version of this scene, there is no horniness to be found. So, they’re two bros napping next to each other, but not quite cuddling ‘cause they’re not gay :(

Also I think Carbucketty might’ve ditched Misto for Rumpleteazer at the last second. We can never have nice things.

The Broadway Revival, having different choreography and staging for most of the Jellicle Ball is interesting in the way the Broadway Revival is usually interesting (kind of frustrating tbh). In the new choreography, everything from Bomba’s solo through the Mating Dance is basically one scene. Some queens dance, even more queens join them, a bunch of toms show up and pair up with them, the Boys Ballet and Whirlygigs are replaced with a romantic dance, everyone takes a hit of moonlight and things start to resemble other productions a bit more from there.

Because the pairs pair up quickly and stay together for a long time, it’s easy to see all of them. Only most of the cast is paired up, but I can identify, Tugger/Bomba, Munk/Demeter, Alonzo/Cassandra, Skimble/Jenny, Plato/Victoria, Coricopat/Tantomile (why do the siblings always stay together for the horny scenes?), Mungojerrie/Rumpleteazer (they’re probably not siblings in this version, so they get a pass), Pouncival/Electra, and Carbucketty/Sillabub.

Jellylorum, Tumblebrutus, and Mistoffelees are absent. They’re offstage until the Mating Dance properly starts. I have no idea where Tumblebrutus went, but this isn’t about him. Tugger crawls past Misto and they almost interact before Tugger leaves with Bomba. Jellylorum pairs up with Misto, presumably because neither one could find an actually date.

Now, the actress who played Jellylorum in this production has said in interviews that she played Jellylorum as the same age as Tugger. (The actors are besties irl so they made their characters besties too). So, this isn’t quite as weird as if feels when you first read it. Everyone’s the same age in this show, except for the kittens. Electra, Sillabub, and Pouncival were played as literal children in every scene but this one, because no one can escape the cat orgy (except Tumblebrutus, for some reason). But, unlike in 1998, which featured a lot of crack pairings during this scene (Tugger/Jenny, anyone?), pretty much every pairing in the 2016 orgy is the most obvious pairing possible. Anyone who didn’t have an obvious opposite gender counterpart was given one, except for Misto, Jelly, and Tumble. They could’ve brought back Peter (renamed Asparagus) from the opening to be Jelly’s obvious pairing, and then just had Tumble nap on Misto’s feet like 2013 Carbucketty, but they didn’t.

The result is that they created a bunch of comphet pairings but simply couldn’t do so for Misto. All his usual comphet pairing were taken. Cassandra’s with Alonzo and Victoria’s with Plato. Knowing that Tyler Hanes and Ricky Ubeda both shipped Tuggoffelees, they probably didn’t want to do the comphet thing either. Up until this point, this production had actually downplayed Tugger/Bomba, compared to other versions and added Tugger/Misto moments. I think, if it’d been allowed, Tugger and Misto would’ve been paired up there. Bomba can be like 1998, not having her usual partner and just going with whoever’s not paired up, which would be Tumblebrutus this time. Peter could be there for Jelly. Everyone’s happy!

But seriously, Gay Misto Mating Dance Scene when? Somebody get on that. People already find the horniness in Cats to be weird and adding gay horniness won’t make much of a difference.

[teawaffles]

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 2

“Oh my…… I thought this would be nothing more than a war game, but it’s certainly more nerve-wracking than I expected.”

The participants had taken their places, and around five minutes had passed since the game began. Kevin was whispering to Albert beside him as they walked, while pointing the gun he’d received in every direction around him. But in contrast to the jittery man, Albert had the relaxed air of a soldier.

“Certainly, this is a feeling of tension one wouldn’t normally get to experience. In fact, the enemy might just be around that corner.”

“What!? Really?”

Panicked, Kevin’s eyes darted all around them in a fluster. That disproportionate reaction elicited a wry laugh from Albert.

“Although it’s important to be aware of your surroundings, if you’re that stiff, your movements will be slow when it’s time to fight. Please relax a little.”

“I-I see. Yes, you’re right……”

Kevin nodded. Beside him, Albert’s guard was impeccable as he watched the leaves swaying in the slight breeze.

The playing field encompassed the entire forest. That said, as it wasn’t a vast area, there was no danger of getting lost. In addition, there was a little cabin in the woods, used on a daily basis by the gamekeeper who managed the hunting grounds; as they had obtained permission to use it during the game, indoor battles were also an option.

For the purposes of safety, all players were obliged to wear spectacles shaped to resemble goggles, as well as bulletproof vests. The guns they had been issued fell into two categories: revolvers and sniper rifles. As a forfeit, and also to pass the time, eliminated players were tasked to feed pheasant chicks at a game bird nursery a good distance away.

Incidentally, Herder had also wanted to impose a severe punishment in the event a gun was damaged. Foreseeing that this would create needless worry, Moran and the others had swiftly hushed him before the words left his mouth.

Thinking back to the explanation of the rules, Kevin looked at the revolver in his hand.

“In any case, this gun is exquisitely crafted. As it was mentioned earlier that the guns used fake bullets, I imagined it would resemble a toy, but it looks exactly like the real thing.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, though it’s all due to Herder’s exceptional skill. I heard he oversaw the creation of these weapons down to the finest details.”

Kevin looked at the card attached to his gun with string. Written on it was a number 8.

“I see: so this is a measure to prevent the guns from getting lost. But if they are so important, I thought it would be safer to carve the numbers directly onto them.”

“You may be right; in which case, we may’ve caused everyone some inconvenience.”

Albert said that with a slightly apologetic tone, and Kevin waved it off.

“No, no — if anything, it reflects his passion, and I honestly respect that. Even though I work in a different field, I have a lot to learn from him as a professional.”

“Thank you very much. I’m sure Herder would be delighted to hear that,” Albert replied, with sincere joy.

However, in an instant, Kevin’s expression seemed to grow a little darker.

“Still, maybe I shouldn’t have brought Helena here after all. She absolutely insisted on coming, so I relented, but with the guns looking so real, that…… I wonder if it’ll remind her of that incident.”

Albert could sense what he was trying to say.

“For that, I sincerely apologise. This event must seem somewhat inappropriate after what she went through.”

Hearing Albert take his remark so seriously, Kevin tried to explain himself in a fluster.

“N-No, it’s alright, I did not mean it as criticism. Besides, Helena seemed to be especially enjoying herself too.”

“Nonetheless, please allow me to apologise, for it may be the case that she’s simply putting up a strong front.”

At that, Kevin cocked his head in confusion.

“……Then, why did you decide to hold this game?”

Albert’s reply sounded almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“——Because it’s part of our ‘plan’.”

“Huh?”

Unsure of the meaning behind that word, the question fell from his lips before he could stop himself. But Albert did not elaborate further.

The conversation had unwittingly ground to a halt. Just as Kevin was searching for a different topic to talk about, Albert’s sharp gaze landed on a nearby thicket.

“There’s someone there.”

“Huh? Really?”

Bewildered, Kevin looked in the same direction. Then they heard the sound of leaves rustling, and the undergrowth parted to reveal an elderly nobleman.

Seeing the person before them, Albert lowered his gun. A warm smile rose to his face.

“……So it was you, Lord Andy. I thought you were the enemy.” [1]

“Hello, Albert-kun. Just for fun, I thought I’d hide and see how long it took you both to spot me, but it seems you discovered me instantly. As expected of the young, your perceptiveness is incredibly sharp,” he laughed, ruffling his own short white hair. He was also on the same team as Albert and Kevin.

The elderly nobleman was Andy Krueger, whose estate extended across the surrounding lands; he also owned the hunting grounds on which the game was being held. Today’s game had been brought into reality after Albert proposed the idea to him.

For such an important gathering on the social calendar, one would normally be hesitant to transform it into an unorthodox event like this. But Andy had jumped at the offer, and even offered his opinions on the finer points of the game. Because of this generous and broad-minded nature of his, he also had the trust of the other nobles.

At the man’s arrival, for some reason, Kevin sighed in relief.

“Please don’t surprise me like that — unlike Lord Albert, I was frightened half to death.”

“Sorry about that, Kevin-kun. But aren’t you being too timid? Have a little more nerve!”

“I’ll do my best.”

At their friendly banter, Albert seemed curious.

“Are both of you already acquainted?”

“Yes,” Kevin affirmed. “We got to know each other when Helena’s father and I were gaining recognition in London. Ever since that time, the nobility had not looked fondly upon us, and only Lord Andy treated us as equals.”

Kevin looked gratefully at the nobleman as he said this, and Andy clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Those aristocrats are really quite averse to the changing times, it seems. But I have no interest in such dreadful traditions. Even at the gathering earlier, they were keeping their distance and saying such rude things that I had to tell them off. Although I hadn’t seen them in a while, because of that, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello— Ah, apologies.”

“No, it’s fine, Lord Andy. You don’t have to apologise,” Kevin said, waving both hands in the air. “Rather, after hearing that you went to such lengths for a good-for-nothing like me, I’m truly grateful.”

“What’s this? Timid as ever, I see,” Andy barked. “You’re an excellent businessman, so why not act like it?”

Then the elderly nobleman’s expression, which had been cheerful thus far, clouded over just a little.

“Nevertheless, I still feel sorry for your friend. At least, his daughter Helena seems to be doing well…… Have there been no clues even now?”

Kevin’s tone also grew heavy.

“……None at all. Helena believes he’s alive, but personally, I think he’s no longer……”

“He’d suddenly vanished, didn’t he?”

Out of the blue, Albert cut in. The two men were startled, but Albert continued with a somewhat knowing look.

“After the incident at the department store, I became curious, and tried doing some research into it myself. It seems there are various peculiarities about this case. For one, the store Helena’s father opened with Mr Kevin had been a success, but one day, he simply disappeared without warning. On the night he was thought to have disappeared, when he was having dinner at home, a friend testified that nothing had seemed particularly off about him.”

“Moreover, that was the last time I saw him. I never thought it would be the last conversation we’d have together……”

Kevin — the friend who’d testified — said so in a thin voice, the corners of his mouth twitching as if in self-mockery.

“Of course, at first, the police suspected that I had something to do with it. They even went to the trouble of thinking up a motive: that as a co-owner, I would stand to gain all the store’s profits if he were to disappear.”

Thinking back to that false accusation, Kevin’s shoulders drooped. Seeing that, Andy addressed him in a droll voice.

“Come now, you never know — one day he might just come home all of a sudden. I’ve told you before: there’s nothing we can do at present, and on top of that, worrying unnecessarily will only injure your health.”

“……You’re right. Besides, we’re supposed to be having fun right now: if I’m the only one being so grave, I’ll just be putting a damper on things.”

“Exactly, exactly. Well then, let’s get back to the game,” Andy urged, thumping him on the back.

Albert, who had been watching their exchange with a calm gaze, smiled gently.

“Indeed; let us focus on the competition first. By the way, it’s about time for us to get our blood pumping…… I’d like to advance deeper into enemy territory. What say you two?”

At his invitation, Kevin quickly shook his head.

“No no no! Frankly, since the start of the game, my heart’s felt like it’s about to explode! Anything more than this and it’ll stop altogether!”

But the elderly nobleman threw his head back in hearty laughter.

“You young people have so much energy, it’s making me jealous. Kevin-kun, you’ve got to watch and learn as well.”

“No…… When I think about what lies ahead, somehow my legs can’t stop shaking,” Kevin murmured weakly. His legs were indeed trembling pitifully, so much so it wouldn’t be surprising for them to give out any moment now.

Andy sighed, as if astonished.

“It can’t be helped then. Sorry, Albert-kun — it seems he can’t go on. I’d like to say that I’ll go with you in his stead, but…… for some reason, my legs have been hurting for a while now. Despite my high spirits, my years have bested me today,” he laughed wryly, his expression weak.

Albert nodded firmly.

“I understand. Well then, let’s part ways here. I wish you both the best of luck.”

“T-Take care……”

Watching Albert’s brave figure as he walked gallantly into the depths of the forest, Kevin felt ashamed at his own cowardice once again.

Scoreboard

🔹 Blue team: Albert, Jack, Fred, William, Kevin, Andy

🔺 Red team: Moran, Bond, Louis, Helena

Footnotes:

[1] Andy’s title is not formally given in the story, but judging from the amount of land he owns, I think it’s safe to say that he’s a member of the peerage like Albert, and hence should be addressed as “Lord Andy”. (Wikipedia)

[silma-words]

Hey please could you do one with#8 and #25 for Adrian x mc.Thanks

N/A: So, this one took a while (sorry!) and I’m not sure it’s any good. I really wanted Adrian and MC to have this chat at some point in their storyline, and these prompts seemed like the perfect opportunity for this (thank you so much Anon! 😊)… but I think I got a little carried away, and kept doubting and changing things around… so I'm not sure it makes much sense at all anymore, but I hope it’s not too bad and that you will like it! Thank you so much again for the ask! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Choices: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Ellie)

Rating: PG-13

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warning: A few curses, and talks about jealousy and shared sexual partners

AU Chronology: Bloodbound AU (after book 1 – the events of book 2 never happened) – Before “The right thing to do”

Summary: A business meeting leads to an unexpected argument about jealousy and insecurities.

Inspired by prompts #8 and #25 from Prompt List #1:

8 - “Why are you so jealous?”,

25 - “You’re mine. I don’t share”.

Words: 4400

**Disclaimer: Characters and background plot are the property of Pixelberry.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Experience

“Adrian! Can you slow down, please? I can’t keep up!”

Adrian was fuming, his jaw clenched and his teeth grinding, trying to breath in the warm summer night air to get rid of the tension that had been building inside him all night.

“Adrian!”. Her voice forced him to a stop, waiting silently for her to catch up with him before resuming his angry strides along the street. He could hear that she was struggling a little to match his pace at his side, but right now, all he wanted to do what get her away from there as soon as possible.

Ellie wasn’t saying anything either, clearly aware that he was mad about something. And she had a good idea about what. She knew that what just happened was kind of her fault, but back there she had let her guard down a little too long and was still not quite sure how the situation had slipped out of her control that way. Her curiosity had got the better out of her and had led her once more down a slippery slope. And she could feel that this time, it was very likely going to result in an argument. Their first real argument.

She finally broke the silence, panting as she was trying to keep up with him while making sure he could hear her. “Are you mad at me? About what happened with this guy?”.

Adrian exhaled loudly but did not answer, her words only re-igniting the emotions that had been boiling inside him just a few moments earlier in the club.

This was one of their usual working nights where they had to go downtown to meet with business partners, Ellie accompanying him to assist with the paperwork and protocol side of things to make sure nothing was amiss when deals were struck, or when projects had to be followed up to the next stages. Their last stop of the night had been at Priya’s, where Adrian has offered Ellie to take a break at the bar while waiting for him. The discussion he was meant to have was nothing concrete enough yet to require her to suffer through it.

She had been working with him for five months and was now perfectly accustomed to his world. Most people down at Priya’s were used to see her around with him, and they knew she was under his protection. However, there were sometimes some new souls or bold hotheads roaming around the club that would not know – or would not care – and that would unwisely risk approaching her too closely. And this had been one of these nights. And Adrian, stuck in one of the booths away from the bar with his potential new business partners, had felt the tension build quickly in the pit of his stomach when his attention had been drawn to her by her laugh, forcing him to witness the scene at a distance while trying to keep his poker-face on with his guests.

That man had been incredibly close to her, talking to her ear so that she could hear him over the music, his eyes roaming over her every time she was taking a sip of her cocktail or would smile at whatever he had said. Adrian’s knuckles had turned white under the table when he noticed the stranger eyeing insistently Ellie’s neck, knowing very well that this other vampire was drawn like a magnet to that oh-so-tempting pulsing artery that Adrian loved so much.

“Adrian?”. Ellie’s voice brought him back to the street where she was still racing beside him, anxiously waiting for an answer.

“No, I’m not mad at you…”, he finally responded with a sigh, his reply hanging in the air, unfinished.

“But?...” she pried, noticing the edge of his tone.

Adrian glanced down at her, taking in the concern in her eyes and the pink of her cheeks as she was rushing at his side to read his face despite the long strides he was forcing her to take. Finally realising that there was no point in trying to avoid talking about it, he slowed his pace to let her join him closer, settling for a more relaxed stride that would allow them both to talk more easily… while getting further away from that damn forsaken club.

“It’s just…. the way that man behaved, even after I joined you two at the bar...”, he finally admitted, his eyes still dark from remembering the smirk on that other vampire’s face. “I don't get it...”.

“He was a bit... hum... prying and insistent, that’s true” she chuckled with a shy smile, trying to lighten up the mood, but clearly quite uncomfortable herself at the thought of the awkwardness of that moment.

Her smile did not seem to ease any of Adrian's concerns, though. “No…” he continued, his eyes trained on an invisible point ahead of them. “What I didn’t get was not that guy's behaviour.... it was yours...”.

Ellie shivered upon hearing a sharpness in his voice that she did not recall ever hearing before. She had no clue about what to say. The situation had completely slipped out of her hands at the club, and although she was fully aware of where this had come from, she was not quite sure how to explain it to Adrian. She knew she had to. She knew that she wanted to. But her lips refused to move, her brain frozen by the icy tension that had settled between them as they kept on walking.

“Why did you keep playing his game?”, Adrian could not help but ask, his brow knitted with a mixture of irritation and sheer confusion. “It looked like it didn't bother you much…”.

Adrian’s tone sounded more accusing than he had intended it to be. He could see Ellie’s cheeks redden further, her lips curving up in an embarrassed grin, before she risked looking back up to him with a shy apologetic smile.

“Oh, come on Adrian! You know I’m really bad at telling people off, unless they are being way too inappropriate straight off”, she countered, defensively. “I know I need to learn to be more assertive in these situations, but I’m never really sure at first whether someone is simply being friendly or if they are going to be… flirty”.

Adrian could not help but to chuckle at this. “Ellie… it is Priya’s club. No one in there will approach someone alone at the bar only to be ‘friendly’!”.

She blushed at his remark, fully aware of how naïve she sounded. “Yeah I know… but hope keeps me going!”.

Her innocence and enthusiasm made him smile a little, until she continued, staring at the movement of their feet on the pavement. “It’s just so nice to have random conversations now and then with new people, get to know what else is going on around or outside the city…”.

That sentence made Adrian’s smile drop, stirring something deep in his stomach that he was not quite sure he wanted to acknowledge. Ignoring it to the best of his abilities, he let Ellie continue her attempt at an explanation.

“We only talked about random stuff for a while, really, but gradually… I guess I just got caught in the conversation...”. She could feel her throat tighten as she was trying to find the right words that would best explain how her encounter with that stranger suddenly got a lot more personal.

Her voice was low and uncertain when she finally admitted, “I got curious about his life story and didn't really realise when things started... drifting…”.

Risking a peek at Adrian’s reaction, she could see that he did not seem convinced at all by her justification. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes fixed ahead of them.

The glimpses of conversation he had overheard at Priya’s were playing on-repeat in his head, and he could not chase these away. Nor make sense of why Ellie would be discussing this with a stranger, out of the blue, in the middle of a random conversation.

His silent reproaches were starting to get to her, and she needed him to respond. React. Shout. Anything. She knew that she had screwed up in there, but did not feel that she deserved the distance that Adrian was now putting between them. He had no idea what that silence was doing to her, while there was so much more to this incident that what appearances were leading him the believe.

They both had things to get out of their chests, but if he was not ready to throw her an olive branch, neither would she. She would take the offensive, pushing his buttons if she had to. Playing dumb if she had to. She had to find a way to make him talk to her, or she would never know if she could admit to him what had been troubling her for so long, and what had let to tonight’s incident.

Her voice brought him back from his silent brooding to their conversation once more, her tone this time more assertive and inquisitive. “I don’t understand why this… tonight... made you so angry though. It’s not like it’s the first time some guy comes to me during one of our nights out, and it’s not like anything even happened with any of them…”.

“I am fully aware of how many times this has happened over the past few months, thank you.”, he snapped coldly, still averting her gaze. “And I hate it every single time.”

His sharpness made her jump a little, but now that she had finally got a reaction from him, she had to keep him going. “And yet you are more pissed about it tonight than ever before. Why?”.

Adrian had to admit it. Tonight was particularly bad. It was her body language, observed from afar, that had bothered him the most. The way she had been smiling at him, laughing at his jokes, or the way she kept tucking her long strands of hair to her side and blushing wildly at times, exposing her neck casually like she would often do with him. And that damn conversation. What the hell was she thinking?

Ellie could nearly see the gears turning in Adrian's head. His fists balled at his sides, knuckles white from the tension that seemed to have pooled there. His buttons were pushed all right. But she was still not getting out of him what she needed to know.

“Why are you so jealous? Don’t you trust me?”, she insisted, stopping in the middle of the pavement to force him to a halt and answer her questions. “Or is it something else that bothers you?”.

Adrian reluctantly stopped, sighting deeply in an attempt at letting his frustration recede before answering her question. Her – of course – very valid question.

Although this was indeed the right question to ask him after this event, the way she was pushing him for a reaction was obvious, and it was starting to feel a little too odd to him. The way tonight's encounter had played was nothing like ordinary, and he was convinced that he had every right to be bothered about it. Yet, she was insisting on knowing the exact detail of what he felt about it. What the hell was this all about? Was she trying to hide something by turning the argument around?

“Of course I trust you...” he finally answered, struggling to sort out the thoughts in his head about this whole damn evening. “It's just... this guy was... you were...”. Adrian could not seem to find the words to express how he felt without risking sounding even more accusing than he had sounded earlier. He had to weigh his words carefully.

“If your previous conversation with him was not flirtatious then… why did he behave like this when I joined you?”, he finally asked bluntly, planting his eyes in hers to try to read into her reaction.

*Finally*, Ellie thought, relieved that he had finally opened the door for her to explain what had been going on in her head tonight. And many other nights before.

But now that she had to put words on it, she felt ridiculous about the whole thing once more. She had not planned any of it. It just happened, and seizing the opportunity had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now that the hurt and confusion in Adrian’s eyes were burning through hers, she felt plain silly. Young and silly. Young, inexperienced, and undoubtedly silly.

She felt her cheeks burn, dropping her eyes to the pavement beneath her feet, embarrassed and unsure anymore how to explain the whole thing. “I don’t know. We got talking a lot about his own experiences as a vampire, although he isn’t as old as you… and I got a little curious about a few things…”

“Things like?”, he encouraged her, still on edge but definitely eager to know the whole truth.

“Well, you’ve seen where that conversation led when you joined us, so you can probably guess…”

Adrian was getting even more confused, unsure if she was telling him that she had wanted to go home with that man – his stomach clenching at the thought -, or if there was actually more to this.

Guessing that this was not clear enough for him, she ventured, finally looking up at him again, with a little more assurance, and a hint of reproach in her voice, “It’s not like you happily talk about your past very much, Adrian… you are always so vague about the things you’ve done, the people you’ve met… the things you liked…”

Ellie’s voice broke into a whisper, obviously afraid to admit out loud what had been really on her mind. She was afraid that voicing her doubts and insecurities would make them even more real. Or worse. That voicing them would made Adrian realise about all the things that she could give him and all the things she could not.

She did not have much experience before Adrian, being only 22, and it had crossed her mind that over centuries, the vampire probably experienced things that were beyond her wildest dreams. Or nightmares. Actually, she kept replaying in her mind something he had once said, just after Lily’s turning, the night she had fallen for him. After telling her about Celia’s death, and how it had been a tipping point for him.

“Decadence… Indulgence… Every vice you can imagine… There were things even I couldn’t fathom before I experienced them”.

Brushing the thoughts away before she could lose the courage to tell him, she cleared her throat and finally let the words escape her wobbly lips, “I just wanted to understand what it was like for you lot, the way you experience and feel things after turning, the way your inhibitions might go away with time... so I thought I could ask a random guy that I’ll never see again to avoid making this awkward by asking Jax or Kamilah... or you”.

She let her words hang in the air, nervously fiddling with her fingers while waiting for Adrian’s reaction. She knew that he had finally pieced things together when she saw his eyes widen and mouth fall slightly open, with something that might have resembled a slight blush suddenly brightening his cheeks.

“Wait…” It was Adrian’s turn to clear his throat, his voice gone croaky from the surprise of this unexpected revelation. “Did you ask this guy for insights into… vampires’ sex life?”.

Ellie simply nodded with a coy smile, the blood rushing once more to her cheeks vividly. She realised how silly it must seem to him, her discussing intimacy like this with a stranger. Not to mention the odd turn their conversation had taken once her questions had got more specific.

Now that he could see the bigger picture, she could give him the last missing piece of this puzzle: “… one thing leading to another, I suppose that he probably read too much into my questions and got the wrong impression... and thought that I was interested in experiencing some of the things I discussed with him… thought that WE would be interested…. hence why he behaved with you... well, the way he did”.

Adrian let out a long sigh of relief, the events of the evening and the awkward turn things had taken finally making much more sense to him.

After quietly sulking from his secluded corner of the club for a good half-hour, watching Ellie casually chat and laugh with this smug stranger, Adrian had decided to intervene after seeing Ellie turn towards him with a shy smile, pointing his position to the other vampire with a trembling finger, which was met by a weirdly appreciative nod from the other vampire as he was eyeing Adrian from the bar. Not sure whether that was her cue for him to come and rescue her, he had quickly excused himself to join them.

But the way they had welcomed him into their conversation was not at all what he had been expecting. The man was nothing but friendly to him – to say the least -, casually carrying on with his very obvious – and pretty explicit – offers to Ellie, while gauging Adrian’s reactions as if expecting his approval. Adrian’s fists were solidly clenched in his pockets, ready to strike at any minute. And he was about to, especially when he realised that not only the stranger was shamelessly hitting on Ellie right in front of him, but that he also just had the audacity to invite Adrian to join them in further activities. The three of them to go back to his place. In that moment, Adrian wanted nothing more than to clear that seductive and mischievous smile of its teeth.

But what stopped him was Ellie’s behaviour during that entire exchange. She was not objecting. She was not trying to bail out. She did not try to step away from the man and signal Adrian to bring her home, as she usually did. No. She was just… blushing wildly, barely able to carry on with the conversation, as she was glancing back and forth between the two men, observing closely their interaction. Adrian could not tell she was embarrassed by the whole situation or… if she was actually flustered by it. The red of her cheeks was in clear contradiction with the pace of her heartbeat, and the excitement and curiosity he could read in her eyes and smell on her skin.

Adrian could not help but to laugh at the recollection of this, now that he was able to piece the events of the night back together, now knowing the context around them.

“Why didn’t you warn me, or interrupt the guy when you realised what he was about to ask of me?”

“I don’t know, I froze....!” Ellie blurted out, a little defensive but fidgeting around like a child, partly relieved at Adrian's reaction to her confession, but also somehow exasperated with herself and the way she had handled it.

Taking comfort in the softness that had now replaced the confusion in Adrian's gaze, she took a moment to take a deep breath and quiet her nerves. Now that he knew, it made it a little easier to admit the whole truth.

“I know I should have tried to stop him but...”, she couldn't help but to smile shyly at the recollection of Adrian's face-to-face encounter with the man, before finally admitting, “I guess I was also a little curious to see how you would react”.

“Did you expect me to react in any other way than punching his face?” Not that he did. But he surely very much wanted to.

“I don’t know, honestly”, Ellie finally answered.

Adrian frowned a little at this, realising that she probably had been thinking about this for a while but had never mentioned it. “So that was a ploy to find out whether I’d accept to invite another man into our bed?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not necessarily to know if you’d accept but... to know if it’d be something you’d like... something that you might have experienced before, and might be missing... that or other things…”.

There it was, that crimson red rushing back to her cheeks. And those doe eyes that were desperately searching in his to know if she had been right all along to worry about such things.

There was so much fragility in her admittance. So much insecurity. But also so much acceptance.

“Ellie...”’ he sighted, finally taking a step towards her to bring her closer, wrapping his arms around her but making sure that she could still read the sincerity of his words into his eyes.

“No matter what I have experienced before, what crazy kinks I have had and might have enjoyed in the past, I am perfectly content with what I have now... with what we have now... just us... please, never think that you are not enough”.

The power of his words made her feel like an invisible weight had been lifted of her chest. She might have floated away with the breeze if it were not for Adrian’s embrace grounding her to his side. Although there would still have more things to discuss to clear this whole mess up, she was so relieved to have finally told him about her insecurities. And so relieved that he seemed to understand why she made that foolish mistake tonight.

She could see the tension lift off Adrian’s shoulders as well, as they kept staring at each other in the middle of the street, slightly swaying in silence as they were taking the time necessary to gather their thoughts after that oh-so-confusing argument.

Not really wanting to break this moment with any more words, but not wanting to let go of her either, Adrian slowly brought one of his hands to her face, caressing the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb as if to dissipate the pink that was still colouring her features. A silent invitation to let go of her concerns, and leave whatever was left of her embarrassment behind.

Cupping her face with both hands carefully, he bent down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, before slowly proceeding to do the same to her cheeks, methodically, one after the other. Ellie was leaning quietly into his touch, her eyes chasing his between each of his kisses, as if the sight of him was the only thing that could protect her from her doubts and fears. Time seemed to have stopped around them when he finally brushed his lips against hers, taking his sweet time to breath in and let the smell of her flush away the last drops of hurt and jealousy that had been poisoning his veins all night.

Feeling her fingertips dig into the fabric covering his chest in an attempt to get him closer, he finally laid his mouth onto hers completely, as softly as he could, gently capturing her lower lip first, before parting their lips to deepen the kiss and let the taste of each other soothe any lingering doubts in their minds. She was his. He was hers. Nothing else mattered.

They could have stayed like this forever, letting the warmth of their embrace melt their concerns and insecurities away, vaporizing into thin air to be blown away in the breeze.

If it weren’t for the passer-by that inevitably bumped into them while staring at his phone, oblivious to the intimate exchange that he had just interrupted. Adrian and Ellie exchanged a bashful but amused look as the disruption forced their lips to break apart, leaving them both panting and giggling lightly in the middle of the sidewalk.

Adrian reluctantly released his grip around her waist, only to immediately capture her hand in his. “Shall we keep going and head home?”, he offered with a tender smile.

“Yes, please!”, she nodded, her eyes shining with warmth under the streetlights.

Quietly resuming their walk back home hand-in-hand, it was only a few minutes later that Adrian broke the silence, as a thought crossed his mind. There was no more bitterness in his tone, only genuine curiosity – and perhaps a tinge of amusement.

“What would you have done, if I had responded to this guy’s outrageous flirt and had invited him to come home, with us...?”

Ellie gasped, taken aback by his sudden decision to return to the reason of their argument, but relaxing as soon as she saw the reassuring gleam in his eye and the teasing grin pursing his lips.

“I am not sure, really...” she admitted, as much to him and to herself. Although she had been thinking about this for a while, she had never really asked herself whether she would be comfortable with it or not. She had really jumped the gun tonight by letting that conversation slip so far with that stranger.

Adrian could not help but to continue to tease and pry a little, willing to show her that he was open to discuss things openly in the future, but also quite curious to know what she would have done.

“Were you secretly hoping that I would accept his offer?”, he asked, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

“Hell no!” she finally blurted out, chortling at the thought. “I... I probably would have freaked out!”.

Adrian laughed with her at this, taking in fondly the way the pink at returned so quickly to her cheeks at his question, and how her nose had wrinkled as she was trying to figure out what she would have done. He could not resist a final question:

“So… tonight was not a cunning manoeuvre to tell me that YOU wanted us to share our bed with others?”

She turned to him, eyes wide, before bursting into giggles, stopping instantly and blushing even more when she realised that although Adrian was teasing her, he very much wanted to know.

“Absolutely not”, she assured him, stopping him in the middle of the curb once more to press her body against his, her eyes riveted on his.

There was no hesitation in her voice, only sheer resolve and confidence, when she stated firmly: “I don’t want us to invite anyone else in our bed, Adrian Raines. You’re mine. I don’t share”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tag list:

@adriansbiss

@itsjustwinter

@shanzay44

@purvishraick

@choicesficwriterscreations​

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

Eternity

**********

I know some of you are probably like "What happened to ICBTE bro?" It's in the fanfic cemetery never to be spoken of again <3

But WELCOME to the new multi part fic Eternity where we follow OC's Veronica Rodriguez, Sawyer Holden and Nova Jay throughout their AEW career

**********

Starring - Tony Khan, Kenny Omega, WARHORSE and of course, the OCs (also a small appearance from Madi Wrenkowski )

Word Count - 2,385

Category - Fluff, friendship, mentions of past romance

Part 1/?

Summary - Sawyer, Veronica and Nova wanted nothing more than to "make it". When they have a chance to main event with TK and Kenny Omega sitting front row, how will it go?

other author's notes - keep in mind, me and @adriii-omega wrote this in a day. there might be spelling mistakes, it might not make sense, trust the process <3 and YES a good portion of this is the ACTUAL match.

**********

“Yes Bullet Club is for life, but we’re Eternity.”

“Nova, Veronica, Sawyer you’re on in 10!” The producer yelled, knocking on the door of the dressing room. Though it wasn’t a dressing room, more like a closet. “We’ll be there in a second, damn!” Yelled Sawyer, trying to get her gear on in the tiny corner.

“It would be nice if they gave us an actual dressing room like the guys or something.” Veronica mumbled, pulling on her gear pants. Nova and Sawyer agreed. There could be thousands of dressing rooms, but they always got stuck in a janitor’s closet. “Could you imagine all three of us in our own private dressing rooms?” Nova fantasized as she tied her left boot.

The group of three had always had dreams, as small as a dressing room, to as big as being on the greatest stage of them all. But for now, a janitor’s closet, a couple bucks a night, and a high school gym would satisfy them.

“I got extra tips at the diner today so we can go out to eat after the show this time.” Sawyer announced, smiling towards Veronica, who had just told Sawyer about her craving for a milkshake earlier that day. “Oh thank God, the family I babysat for today only paid nine bucks for FIVE hours.” Nova complained, touching up her makeup.

“Nine?!” “Yeah, spoiled little white kids, AGAIN.”

Veronica and Sawyer chuckled, walking out the janitor’s closet, Nova following close behind.

The three friends had so much in common, but were so different. Like Sawyer for example, the tallest of the three and by far the smartest. She wasn’t afraid to take a bump in front of 10 people or 10,000. She would do whatever it took to make sure she ended up as one of the best professional wrestlers of all time.

Veronica, one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet. Most people would call her a submission specialist, but making someone tap was just all in a day's work for her. She’ll do anything to put on the most entertaining match anyone in the crowd has ever seen, even if it’s acting like she almost died.

Nova however, was definitely a person who was ready to put on a show, taunts, hyping up the crowd and “OMG” moments were her specialty. She has gotten injured doing those special moves, many times, but she always got back up and showed out to put on the best performance.

All three of them had a purpose and decided they would stick together to reach it.

The whole roster was fond of how close they were. Others envied their success on the independent scene - except one of their closest friends, Warhorse. He was going to be on Dynamite tomorrow` to challenge Cody for his TNT Championship, but tonight, he was at the show, watching the trio wrestle.

They were walking closer to the “stage”, when he stopped them. “You will not believe who’s here!” Sawyer groaned, “Jake you know I hate guessing games so can you jus-”

“Tony Khan and Kenny Omega.” Their jaws dropped. “THE owner and EVP OF AEW?” Nova questioned. Veronica’s palms started to get sweaty. “Why are they here? I don’t even want to be here; there is no way the ACTUAL Kenny Omega and Tony Khan are sitting in a high school gym.” She wiped her hands on her pants and crossed them over her chest. “You don’t believe me? Well you guys will see in about an hour or so.” Warhorse smirked.

“We’re going out now, dipshit.” Sawyer insulted. Nova and Veronica laughed, but Warhorse had more to say, “Didn’t you hear? You guys have been bumped to the main event since the rich guys are out there.”

Suddenly calm, cool and collected Sawyer had her jaw to the floor. “Sawyer?” Nova whispered, shaking her friend's shoulder. “I can’t fly high and be energetic for the last 30 minutes of the show! I’ll break something or pass out!”

Veronica giggled at her friend’s nonsense, “You’ll be fine. C’mon, let's go watch the matches.”

Nova, Veronica and Sawyer sat by a monitor, watching the last few matches before their main event match. They were enjoying some of the two newer wrestlers face off when a hand slammed down on a table. They looked up and saw Madi Wrenkowski, fuming.

“They CUT my match so you guys could have your dumb main event.”

Sawyer held back laughter while Veronica spoke up, “Well it’s not our fault, we didn’t find out till five minutes ag-” “You think you’ll be big cause of a few matches? No way. Just stick to the janitor’s closet.” Madi scoffed, storming off.

“A few 5 star matches to be fair!” Nova called out, receiving a high five from her friends. It had been like this for a while, Madi going off on how she was “better”, but mean girls were SO high school.

They all took a deep breath, knowing it was their time to main event.

When the three reached the gorilla position. They saw Warhorse standing by the curtain waiting for them. Everyone was pretty happy that they got the opportunity to perform for someone like Kenny Omega, but deep down inside Veronica, Sawyer, and Nova knew that they deserved to be in the main event spot a long time ago.

“You three are going to kill it.” Warhorse smiled at his friends. He wondered how cool it would be to see them all in AEW at one time. “Thanks Jake.” Nova said. Sawyer was standing at the curtain, waiting for her cue.

“Say, bitch, I don’t wanna talk.”

Realer by Megan Thee Stallion blasted off the gym walls. The couple hundred of fans there jumped out of their seats to show their love for Sawyer, though she wasn’t supposed to be having such a loud reaction. She walked down the entrance way stopping at a young child who had their hand out for a high five. Sawyer went over to make it seem like she was about to, but smoothly pushed her hair back instead- flipping off the parents as well. As she got in the ring she took a quick scan to look for Kenny and Tony. She spotted them front and center in the front row she gave a sly smirk and went to one of the corners of the ring.

“TOOONIGHTTTTT-“

Nova shot out of the curtain while 24K Magic by Bruno Mars played in the gym. The crowd was also feeling the song as they got up and grooved. Even Tony Khan was bobbing his head along. Nova walked down to the ring, pep in her step. She gave people in the crowd high fives and hugs. She entered the ring and tried to get Sawyer to dance along, but backed away when Sawyer stood over her, glaring and clenching her fists. She walked over to her corner, climbing up to the second turnbuckle, waving at the whole crowd.

“I fly with the stars in the skies…”

Veronica pushed her black shades on as she smoothly walked through the curtain as “Moment 4 Life” by Nick Minaj came on the speakers. It was a perfect song to describe how she felt as she took the audience in at the top of the ramp. Her swagger was untouched but when she stepped in front of Kenny Omega, she felt his eyes never leave her which made her confidence blast through the roof. She used the stairs to get in and leaned on the ropes and waved to the other people that were there.

The three stared each other down, “this is awesome” chants from the crowd already starting. The ref asked all of them if they were ready, then called for the bell to ring. They all circled around the ring, the crowd wondering who was gonna hit first. Nova started taunting the two, planning to get the crowd on her side early in the match.

Sawyer had enough and tackled Nova to the ground, throwing punches, keeping away from the head. Veronica pulled Sawyer off, Sawyer widened her eyes, Veronica irish whipped Sawyer into the ropes, clotheslining her as soon as she came back. Veronica turned at the crowd, cheering along with them, not paying attention that Sawyer just did a kip-up behind her.

Veronica turned around just to be met with a kick to the face. Veronica turned around once, swaying side to side before falling to the ground, selling coming in clutch.

Nova came up from behind Sawyer, drop kicking her and making her fall to the mat. They planned to live to the phrase “fight forever”. Nova walked towards Veronica, dragging her up. Veronica started to gain her consciousness back, kicking Nova in the legs and Nova dodging as many as she could.

While they weren’t paying attention, Sawyer crawled towards the corner, climbing up the top rope, getting in position for a frog splash. It wasn’t till the crowd started screaming till Veronica and Nova looked towards the corner, Sawyer jumping off and crashing into both of them.

She stood up, hyping herself up, looking towards TK and Kenny, smirking.

*match skip*

Sawyer, Veronica, and Nova all struggled to get to their feet trying to use each other for balance. It had at least been 25 minutes of non stop action, and everyone was on the edge of their seat. Sawyer threw a punch in Veronica’s direction , but she attempted to counter it with an arm bar bringing her down to the mat. Nova saw the opportunity as she started to climb to one of the top turnbuckles. With Sawyer’s strength she manages to deliver a powerbomb to Veronica getting out of the arm bar. She crouched in the corner as Nova hit a devastating Macho Man like elbow drop.

1…

2…

But Sawyer broke up the pin by pulling Nova’s leg. Nova slapped Sawyer making Sawyer deliver a right hand back but harder, making her roll out the ring and on the apron. Veronica was slowly getting back up and Sawyer noticed as she charged towards her, making Veronica pull the top rope making her land on the outside. Veronica made her way to the apron where Nova was at; her back turned to Veronica not seeing her jump and wrap her legs around her neck for a reverse hurricanrana. With a loud thud, both of them rolled onto the floor in pain.

Sawyer crawled over , throwing Veronica in the ring and seeing Nova began to stir. Sawyer climbed to the top turnbuckle with her back turned to deliver a perfect moonsault, making the crowd gasp, and Tony and Kenny to stand up. Sawyer held her side, and rolled into the ring ready to finish the match. She stood in the ring, waiting for Veronica to get in position for her finishing move. Veronica stood and it was too late, and she tucked her chin ready for the impact of Sawyer’s devastating Canadian Destroyer.

1…

2…

3.

Sawyer stood up, referee raising her arm in the air. She tried to bite back her smile but simply couldn’t. She watched as Veronica and Nova started to walk backstage, exiting the ring, breaking out of character as soon as she was behind the curtain.

Veronica, Nova and Sawyer started talking about the match, complimenting each other. “Excuse me ladies?” They looked over, and saw Tony Khan and Kenny Omega walking towards them. Nova spun around and almost caused Sawyer and Veronica to fall over. “Really impressive match out there. You know I didn’t think you guys would have met my expectations but I was way wrong.” Kenny admitted, and Tony agreed. “Yea , we would really love for you guys to come over to our company for a bit. Not on Dynamite yet, but some Dark matches maybe?” Tony suggested. They were beyond excited. Sawyer started imagining all of the memories she could create at AEW, and seeing some people she hadn’t seen in a while - until a certain person popped into her head. “I would love to wrestle for you guys, but does Wardlow know? Or is he even okay with this- “ Veronica gave Sawyer the death stare and Nova let out a laugh. “Wardlow? He’s the one that brought you guys up. He said you were all really talented, and since we’re looking for more women wrestlers you were the right people. Is there something going on between…” “NO.” Sawyer interrupted Tony.

“It’s complicated. I just wanted to make sure he was okay with working with me again.” Nova couldn’t believe Sawyer’s actions and it was making it extremely hard not to burst out of laughter on the spot. Veronica stood in between her friends listening closely to what Khan was saying. She felt eyes on her so she looked up and was met with Kenny’s soft stare. He smiled and looked away making her do the same.

“Yea, so tomorrow I was thinking you guys could get to Jacksonville and see Dynamite, then wrestle after the show?” Tony said. “That works fine with us.” Nova said, smiling wide

“Great!” Kenny said, smiling at Veronica. “Sawyer, Veronica?”

Sawyer and Veronica looked at each other, they could tell what they both were thinking just by the looks on their face. Veronica nodded, Sawyer spoke up, “Let’s do this.” “That’s great, the flight leaves at 11 tonight, so get there as fast as you can,” Tony said, looking at his phone, “Oh and Sawyer?”

Sawyer looked up, “Don’t interrupt me again.”

Nova couldn’t keep in her laughter anymore, not even when Veronica punched her arm and told her to shush. Tony and Kenny left the building, leaving the friends beaming and damn near tears. “Veronica and Kenny sitting in a tree!” Nova and Sawyer started to sing, making Veronica roll her eyes, “Yeah I’ll remember that when we see Wardlow tomorrow.”

Sawyer huffed. “But remember we promised if things ever ended up like this, we would stay together no matter what happens between any of us.” Nova brought up, talking about the promise they all made years before.

“Friends, no matter what.” They all said in unison, knowing in the back of their heads they would be friends for eternity.

thank you for reading! part 2 coming soon!

[itsclydebitches]

What has Ironwood done that's objectively wrong? Bringing the fleet to Beacon makes sense with 1) Qrow's warning, 2) the presence of Grimm in general, 3) we have security forces for major events on Earth. Blake's trailer shows her & WF stealing dust for terrorist acts used at Beacon and Haven. His embargo makes sense. Penny & co. were fighting grimm in Mantle in vol. 7. Amity was used in vol. 8. I keep seeing people call him a Greek tragic hero and characters keep calling him misguided but why??

Personally, the only thing I think Ironwood has done objectively wrong is shooting Oscar and the Councilman, which is why those actions feels so far removed from the rest of his character — an attempt on the writers’ part to make him really evil when the story started insisting he’s an antagonist. RWBY isn’t interested in portraying Ironwood and Ruby as two heroes who go about saving people in different ways, like it was for Yang and Ruby: “You go save individuals and I’ll tell the world about Salem. We might disagree about how to help, but the narrative presents both actions as helping” (stupidity of the Amity plan aside). We could have easily gotten that with, “You go make a suicidal stand against Salem in an effort to save more people and I’ll take the risk of trying to escape with the people we have” but the show just... didn’t. Nor is the story interested in saying that Ruby was wrong, so the moment she took a firm stance against Ironwood he had to become the objective bad guy. If your story refuses to acknowledge that the hero is in any way flawed, then their opponents can’t have redeeming features that reflect badly on the hero. Which is what we had with Ironwood prior to the Oscar shooting, standing in contrast to Ruby with his practical approach that actually had a chance of saving some vs. her idealism that was going to get everyone killed (and still might). Everything Ironwood did was ABSOLUTELY iffy... but never objectively wrong. He had justified reasons for everything he did and only the best of intentions. Does that mean he was right every time? Wrong? It’s debatable and straddling that line was always the point. But once the story pit Ironwood against Ruby, a Ruby the story refuses to acknowledge as anything other than Pure and Good, that line could not longer exist. He HAD to be villainous in order to exist as her contrast, yet hadn’t acted in a villainous manner. So what do you do? Have him randomly shoot people to establish how evil he is.

As for the tragic hero aspect, I’d say it’s an easy claim to make if you don’t dive too deep into the story. Meaning, we can see a lot of similarities on the surface of Ironwood’s character, yet the actual meat of the story doesn’t support this reading very well. Ironwood is indeed a moral person of good standing whose misfortune stems from some bad luck/mistakes (army getting hacked is the best example), but that’s it. A great deal more of his misfortune stems from deliberate acts against him, both by Salem and (to a lesser extent) by Ruby. Ironwood’s supposed fatal flaw — the hamartia, usually hubris/pride — is not seen throughout the story, despite how much the fandom insists that he seizes power because he believes he’s Remnant’s savior. Throughout the whole series Ironwood continually eschews pride in favor of leaning on others: Let’s listen to Ozpin, let’s welcome new allies, let’s align ourselves with old enemies. It’s just that every time he reaches out, his allies fail him: Ozpin was keeping secrets (I love the guy and support most of his decisions, but I get why Ironwood's trust faltered, far more-so than I understand the group’s), Ruby lies and betrayed him, Robyn likewise betrayed him and helped get Clover killed. Pride is not his downfall, bad allies and an evil witch are! 

Perhaps most importantly, the tragic hero is meant to elicit pity. Sometimes fear too, but mostly pity. The story should be cathartic for the viewer because they’re watching a good person meet a bad end, largely due to what we recognize as inevitable, human error. That’s not who the story now insists Ironwood is. The story wants us to hate him, hence the above paragraph about “He’s evil now and shoots people for no reason.” This isn’t to say that the tragic hero never does things/has characteristics that the audience dislikes — they are still meant to be very flawed — but those aspects should not outweigh our ability to connect with the character and understand them. The emotional foundation here is regret that things turned out this way when they didn’t have to and the character (or at least who the character started out as) didn’t deserve this fate. Is that what RWBY is aiming for with Ironwood? I wouldn’t say so. We, as individual fans, might feel sympathy for him —  largely due to what we recognize as bad writing choices changing our perspective  — but that doesn’t mean the story is actively angling for that response. I’d say RWBY wants us to despise Ironwood and root for his downfall, which flies in the face of the tragic hero. He’s moved into the category of a much more clear-cut villain: a killer, a contrast to the heroes, our protagonist tells the whole world not to trust him. It’s possible that Ironwood may circle back to a tragic hero, but again, I doubt RWBY will succeed in making that move in a persuasive manner. I think they’ll just kill Ironwood off and people will go, “See, that’s what happens to tragic heroes!” ignoring both what the story wanted us to feel for Ironwood this last volume (he’s villainous) and how it failed to get us there in a believable manner (he was a good guy who just inexplicably started shooting when the story needed him to). 

These archetypes are complex and require that they be written with intent and, to be frank, skill. Compare Ironwood to someone like Walter White. Breaking Bad ensure we see from Episode One how Walter’s pride continually leads him down a dark path. His inability to lean on/trust others means that he goes to extreme lengths to do everything on his own, like making drugs to pay for his own cancer treatments. In time this leads to a more overt desire for power and his eventual downfall, wherein the audience recognizes the need for his punishment, yet still aches for the good man besieged by bad luck (cancer) that he once was. Ironwood’s fatal flaw is that he... wants to use military force against an endless army of literal monsters? That he doesn’t want to do everything on his own? Ironwood’s flaw is only a flaw in our world, not the world where magical monsters are eating people, and 99% of his misfortune stems not from his own actions coming about due to a different flaw, but because others are actively working against him. We can’t make broad-sweeping claims about Ironwood’s actions without first considering the actions of the characters around him. Oedipus is a tragic hero because he kills a man (action), ignorant that this is his father and thus fulfilling part of his prophecy. All of Ironwood’s recent, intended actions  — tell the world about Salem, leaving with Amity, etc. — have not come about and his ignorance only existed because others deliberately kept that information from him. It’s like if a friend of Oedipus’ knew all along that Laius was his father but refused to tell him, then stopped him from killing Laius because that’s bad... but then blamed him when someone else killed him instead? I think the fandom forgets that things are #bad right now because Salem is attacking the kingdom with, like, five different evil weapons. The kingdom is falling mostly because Salem is an asshole and a little because Ruby has made awful choices lately. Ironwood’s supposed pride didn’t bring Salem here, didn’t keep people from surviving, is not stopping the group from winning their battle. The tragedies we see in the story right now are not on him. 

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Doodlewash April 2021 prompt 20: Roses

Songfic using Black Roses by Aviators.

The color black has often been synonymous with death and mourning and is usually used at funerals. But black roses do have a more positive meaning as well. They can stand for the beginning of new things and major change.

Reminder 93-10-01 = Tommy 83-11-03 = Hannahxxrose 93-08-02 = CupToast/Crumb 66-16-01 = Plushys 09-10-01 = Purpled

If anyone wants to be part of a taglist of the Vigilante AU, feel free to message me/send an ask/or mention it in reblogs.

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

We are husks

Plushys had been trapped in the warehouse on 1889 Coral Lane, not that she knew where she was, for eight months now. When she was taken it no one took her nail file off of her person. She hid it in her hair when she was forced to change into the warehouse uniform.

She got two meals a day, and she started a tally on the wall. At every other meal, another tally was put on the wall with her nail file.

But the tallies were very much racking up. She was tried. She wanted to go home.

After five months she was given a cellmate; 83-11-03, Hannah Rose. Hannah was a street rat. She grew up fighting for her place in the world. She clawed her way to get what she had; only for it to be ripped away by a group of men and a white van.

After Plushys made her new tally on Hannah’s first day she offered the girl the nail file. Hannah made her first mark, and settled in for the long run.

Plushys and Hannah were placed in the same fighting ability category. They’ve been pitted against each other a few times.

The people in charge of the fighting ring have a few wants. They make money by keeping the bettors as patrons. And the way to do that is to have a suspenseful fight. Plushys and Hannah deliver on the wants of the criminals.

Hannah was a street rat. Plushys was the twin sister of a vigilante. They knew how to fight. They knew how to make an event.

They had learned how to riff off each other. They could fight to the brink of the end only to comeback down in a way that was satisfying for the audience and kept up the suspense. They did this for a few reasons: one, they didn’t want to hurt each other; two, they needed to keep the criminals happy; three, the longer they went on for, the more time the other kids could rest up and get in the mindset; and four, it was a little fun when neither party cared too much.

“66-16-01 v. 83-11-03!”

Plushys caught 5up’s eye in the crown. “Please get us out of here,” her eyes begged.

Hannah threw the first punch. She was so ready to get out of here.

Alive but barely breathing

Crumb was not okay. She just wasn’t. She may have been born in District 93 but she was privileged by their standards. She had a loving mother and father and a stable live. She wasn’t built for fighting.

The only thing keeping her afloat and winning was her fear instincts driving her. And a few lessons by Hannah and Tommy during whatever downtime they could squeeze out.

If she doesn’t fight, her opponent was going to break her; literally.

Just because she could didn’t mean she liked it. She was forever grateful that Hannah and her cellmate 66-16-01 took forever to finish up. It gave her time to collect herself and to hind in her mind palace. She could hide away and repress the memories once all this was over.

Hannah suggested it to her. Tommy cautioned that one day the walls would fall and the memories would hit her like a freight train.

Crumb didn’t have the capacity; she was already going through so much trauma. What was a little more after the fact?

Sure she trusted them with her life, but she wanted her parents to help her feel completely safe to break.

The gong sounded. Hannah had 66-16-01 in a chokehold and the latter had tapped out. Crumb should really learn her name.

“And next to the mat 93-08-02 v. 87-08-01!”

Hannah offered 66-16-01 her hand. She ruffled Crumb’s hair in a comforting way as they passed.

The two eight year old girls bowed to each other; shaking, the both of them. “Meri.”

“Crumb.”

Crumb was not okay. But she had to be. She had to keep going.

Sometimes we pull ourselves together

If Hannah and Plushys’ version of rebellion was to play with their food and drag their fights out for just shy of too long. Then Tommy’s act of defiance was beating his opponents in as little time as possible. Even that one time he was given a fight against eight people, he was done with them all in about five minutes.

That year Tommy spent living in alleyways really helped here.

He rolled his shoulders up straight in the ring, six moaning bodies on the floor, bruises forming on his skin. The others looking much worse than he did.

He was honestly surprised that none of them were bleeding. Wasn’t that a pleasant thought?

He stood there, breathing heavy, for a moment. An uncomfortably long moment. Like they were waiting to see is any of his opponents was going to get up and fight back.

The gong sounded.

Tommy stared defiantly at the audience, unblinking, as aids put the six other kids on stretchers and got them medical attention.

“93-10-01 wins another match.”

But our efforts fade away

With every trip to the Warehouse on 1889 Coral Lane for intel, 5up hates his father more and more.

That man saw no problem with whatever was going on here.

In fact, now that he was going to the fights with his father, the man was paying more attention to him than he had in years. 5up hated it. He hated everything about this.

At least he now knew for sure what kind of person he needed to be to get his father’s approval. A guide on what not to do.

5up stared back at 93-10-01. This kid. This kid. He had so much spirit, and he was using it to fuel his rage.

5up could tell that 93-10-01 was tried. That he wanted to go home. Soon.

Soon. They were in the final stages of planning. They had a big enough team. They’d only need to hold out a little longer.

“93-10-01 wins another match.”

5up half-raised his hand, signaling he would be cashing out.

93-10-01 turned his head away and walked off.

We are dust

Plushys, Hannah, Tommy, and Crumb sat together in the children’s canteen.

“I hate him,” Tommy said.

“Who?”

“Mr. Nicchi Jr.”

“Give him time,” Pushys said. “This is a big job.”

“I know.” Tommy look at Crumb. He put some of his greens onto her place. “I don’t know how much longer we can hold you though.”

“I know.”

“And he’s a bettor.”

“He has too,” Plushys said. “It’s his cover. He can’t come in here and just demand they let everybody go. It’ll be more intense than that.”

“I know.”

“I promise he’s a vigilante.”

Tommy swallowed his food. He glanced at Hannah out the corner of his eye. “I trust you.” He took another bite. “I have too.”

Plushys looked around the canteen. She stabbed her fork into a softened carrot and held it above her head. “A toast. To eight months.”

Tommy raised a fork as well. “To three.”

Crumbling by the moment

“To three.” Hannah raised her fork and carrot as well. She ate the steamed vegetable and went back to longingly looking around.

Her spirit was falling.

But it shouldn’t be.

She was a street rat. She knew how to do this. She knew how to fight and she knew how to win.

She was very close to breaking down and lashing out, but that didn’t go well for the last kid that did that.

Hannah was tried. She felt dead. She didn’t want to do this anymore. She wants to leave, but she can’t.

Even if the door is right there.

The door outside was right next to her and Plushys’ cell. They had a nail file. They could break the bars.

But she can’t leave everyone else behind.

We try to push away the ending

“93-10-01.”

“What?”

The guard gestured to the food tray in front of Tommy.

“Right.” Tommy stood up. “I’ll see you guys next time.”

“Bye Tommy.”

“Just hold on a little longer.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Tommy grabbed another tray for Purpled and made his way down to room 322.

“Hey.”

Purpled grunted.

“I do not understand why they have this gag on you.”

Purpled shrugged. He jokingly try to bite Tommy three seconds later though.

“Hey. Without me you wouldn’t eat.”

Purpled gasped. “You would never do that to me would you?”

This was nice; both of them pretend that they aren’t kidnapping children and just two bros hanging out. Ignoring that Tommy was fork feeding Purpled food, as they still had him chained up.

“So when are you breaking us out?” Purpled asks.

“What? Where did that came from?”

“Seems like something you’d do.”

“I mean yeah.” Tommy looked down at the food. He lowered his voice, “Someone’s coming to help us.”

“I hope so.” Purpled looked away from Tommy’s fork. “Punz will come for me.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said distractedly. He honestly didn’t know if he should tell Purpled that there was a group of vigilantes coming to get them, the heroes. He was a posh upper ten boy, what would be think? ”Purpled? What do you think about vigilantes?”

Purpled took a bite of his food and thought about it while he chewed. “Vigilantes are unregulated menaces that try to do good.” Purpled tipped his head forward. “They do good. They do good, I know that.”

“You know that? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve seen the records. Heroes have notes on every problem creator – that they know of. But there are different categories between vigilantes and dipshits.”

“Dipshits?”

“Well that’s not what they’re called in the system. It’s more formal. But, like. vigilantes create problems for heroes, and dipshits create problems for vigilantes. Those guys can’t really be called really villains can they?”

“No. No they aren’t. Usually just the local robber.”

Purpled laughed. “The local robber?”

“Yeah. That’s a thing that exists in the lower districts.”

“You ever seen a local robber?”

“Sure. Had to hide behind a few shelves at the grocery store. Dude had a gun.”

“What the hell?”

“Just because District 9 is little crime free doesn’t mean the rest of us get that.”

“What the hell?”

“People gotta do what they gotta do.”

“And that doesn’t get reported?”

“Purpled if every single crime was reported to Hero HQ the whole system would collapse in on its self because of how many things they would have to deal with.”

“But-“

“Purpled. Vigilantes keep us safe.”

“Heroes keep us crime free,” Pured countered.

“And poverty keeps me the local thief in my area.”

“You’re what? Don’t vigilantes get called on you?”

“Nah. I’m just a kid. I don’t need much and I’m not messy about it. There are so many other kids doing that as well. They don’t really care.”

“What does that mean?”

“Literally all the food stalls just give out extra produce that’s going to go bad at the end of the day so they don’t have to worry about thieves during the day.”

“What?” Purpled’s mind was exploding the more Tommy told him about how he lived.

“Loose the same amount of coins but there’s no crime going on. And the food is already almost bad anyways so it’s going to get thrown out.”

“Why would you give out rotting food to children?”

“They don’t give out rotting food!” Tommy defended. “People just don’t buy the strawberry’s that are four days old when fresh ones are right there on the table. And even if the food is almost going bad, it’s going to get eaten that night so it doesn’t really matter.”

Purpled opened the closed his mouth a couple times. “I hope Captain comes for me.”

“Captain?” Tommy offered Purpled another bite of his dinner.

“Captain Sparklez? Lives in District 87?”

“Oh that guy. He helps vigilantes sometimes I’ve heard. He’s probably coming.”

“It’s going to be a group of vigilantes isn’t it? Punz isn’t coming for me?”

Tommy decided that honestly was the best policy. “I don’t know.”

And black roses fall the same

Hannah and Plushys both added another tally to their calendars.

Hannah started to file away at the bars on the cell wall. It might be helpful when they were finally able to get out of here.

Hannah looked at the black roses growing through the cracks in their exterior wall.

“We’re getting out of here.”

“We will be free,” Plushys added.

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