#except those three r silhouettes

[ritsmaos]

do we like catified art here... Hai...

[dokidokitsuna]

RWBY: Next Steps

This is just a design collection (remember when I used to do those? 'Winter Mission', 'Summer Tour'?? Fun times~)...and it may be my last. Its only real purpose is to give me something fun to draw for the NeverFell Projects wrap-up series. The recent Adam and Cinder designs are technically part of this collection, too. ^^

These were much harder to do than those two, though...I've spent ~2 months chipping away at this set, trying and retrying to address several different RWBY design criticisms while still making the girls look good. ಥ_ಥ I've finally begun approaching success, though, so I wanted to talk a bit about these ideas.

Ruby The only one I managed to design in one try. ^^; This was my answer to the question I felt was posed by Ruby's Vol. 7 design: i.e. "how do we do a new Ruby design that feels more 'mature'??" Because I never liked how the V7 design attempted to do that. :/

Between the new hairstyle and the new 'generic adventurer' clothes, it felt less like they were trying to evolve Ruby Rose and more like they didn't like her original design and wanted to get as far away from it as possible. V1-Ruby was such an iconic look (and STILL IS), and yet there's no trace of it in V7-Ruby. None of the goth-lolita style or playful edge that even V4-Ruby managed to preserve...instead they just scrubbed everything out to start from scratch, with a new design that's honestly 'meh' at best.

So what I did was stick closely to V1-Ruby, while adding just a few big changes to make the look distinct. You say a 'combat skirt' is too childish for an older Ruby? Well then we'll make it shorts...but shorts that are just as frilly and cute as the original skirt, with a similar overall shape. You say her original hairstyle is too boring and 'safe'? Well, then we'll change it...by simply shaving half of it off. It's a much edgier look that simultaneously preserves the original shape of her hair: from every angle except front and back, her silhouette will remain the same.

You say you want to give her new shoes, but don't want the fandom to make fun of you for covering them in dozens of belts again? Here's a wild idea: cowboy boots. ^^ A totally unexpected, unique item that still fits in with the antique-ish vibe of her goth clothes.

Basically, I just wanted to prove that you can do something dramatically different with Ruby without completely abandoning her fashion sense.

Criticisms: The details are still lacking; I think I should work some red accents into her corset and boots. Also, I originally designed this outfit with a white shirt, and I kinda want it back (she had the team colors! R, W, B, and Y! ;_;)...the problem is that it clashes with the sheer thigh-highs. One must go...I'm sure I'll figure it out

Weiss The toughest of the bunch: I did three different Weiss designs before landing on this one. ^^;;; The big epiphany came when I realized that Weiss looks her best when she mirrors Ruby. The girls' original design concepts share a lot of features; I feel like the characters were designed to look like they belong together, and figured I might as well honor that.

ALSO-- and this was the biggest priority for Weiss' design-- I firmly believe that she should not look like a princess anymore. From a character designers' perspective, it is ludicrous that they gave her the giant Disney ballgown in the same volume where they put classism at the center of the plot and have her send her bourgeoisie father to jail. That right there is the definition of mixed messages...

I thought the whole point of Weiss' character arc was to distance herself from the uber-rich parasites of her family and fellow 'Atlas elites'. I thought we cemented that when she officially lost her "heiress" title in V4. o_O I expected her next look to ditch the crown and visually show that she's past the point of 'rebelling'-- there's no more authority in her life for her to rebel against; she's free now! But alas...

So as usual, I had to do it myself. This Weiss outfit is definitely still fancy, with the coattailed vest and ruffled sleeves, but there's a lot less 'decoration'; fewer jewels, fewer details. The construction is straightforward and simple. And of course, no more tiara. Instead I decided to give her a li'l snow pea flower and ribbon, which ended up inspiring her new periwinkle purple-y color scheme. Like her original design, it's actually fairly colorful, but does its job and puts the emphasis on the white elements.

Criticisms: ...Not many, this came out pretty good. ^^ I might reconsider the black coattails, but if I do I'll probably just switch it out with the indigo inner vest. I like the idea of her outfit construction mirroring Ruby's, but her color scheme mirroring Blake's, since they have a closer bond in NeverFell.

Blake Blake designs are notoriously difficult; if you wanna hear some great reasons why, I suggest you check out this old Twiins iink RWBY design ranking video, which always helps guide me when I do redesigns for the main 4. Anyway, this phenomenon makes it hard to describe what I did...I guess you could say I tried to combine all the best elements of all her outfits, while clinging to the 'fancy action girl' vibe of her original design.

I'm most proud of her new hairstyle-- I dunno why, I just enjoyed working on it and making those decisions. ^^ It's hard to tell, but it IS shorter; now shoulder-length instead of back-length. We make up for this with additional volume, emphasizing the waves in her hair texture by pushing them outward. And most notably: she keeps the ribbon. She just wears it differently, using it to accentuate her ears instead of hiding them. This way, we keep the point of interest on her head while still showing her character growth.

Criticisms: Infinite, countless. This is a good look, but something is definitely still off. ^^;;; I think some additional detail in certain places (not sure where yet...) might help 'finish' it, so to speak. Maybe some extra yellow accents...? Also, the bow obviously gets lost in her hair this way. I've tried several color changes and don't like any of them; I think I may just have to texture it differently in the final product. Fingers crossed...

Yang Another tough one...I only made 2 design drawings, but the colors took several rounds of trial and error. I think my excitement over finally arriving at a good color scheme TODAY was what spurred me to make this post. ^^;

Anyway...there is a specific piece of Yang design criticism I hear fairly often that drives me up the wall: people commonly complain that she doesn't wear enough yellow; that she doesn't represent her character color well because all she wears is a yellow shirt. And the character designer in me wants to rip my teeth out whenever I hear this, because it blindly ignores the giant fairy-tale-inspired mass of yellow that is her hair, and the purposely attention-grabbing pops of yellow that make up Ember Celica. They're not "clothes", technically, but they're still part of the design! It's like saying a character with green skin can't represent the color green if all their clothes are black...without realizing that maybe their clothes are black BECAUSE they have green skin, in order to draw your attention to it...!! (╬▔皿▔)╯I just jifjkdsnfksahujknsjnfufh

...Anyway, anyway...the point is, it's difficult to take a character design with so much natural yellow in it and add yellow clothes and still have it read well. But because I like a challenge, I decided to take it on. I think the difference between the mustard leather and neon yellow hair is large enough to make it work, while still feeling casual enough for everyday wear. The champagne off-white she wears in her 'Hunter' outfit (which heavily inspired this) looks great, but it feels too 'classy' to me; like something specifically meant to dazzle the audience with her beauty for one special adventure, not for her to wear often.

On that note, my secondary mission with this design was just to make Yang look cute again, by following the structure of her V1 look, and even adding a little skirt on top of her battle shorts, which looks surprisingly natural considering she almost never wears one.

I don't know what happened in the canon to make the character designer forget the 'Yellow Beauty' part of her character concept; tbh even if her gender presentation gets more masculine she can still look pretty. Designs like Ozma, V7 Qrow and V4 Ren show that they understand this, but choose to cover Yang up in flavorless sheets of beige anyway. :T Making sure she always has a boob window isn't enough; the clothes themselves need to say something too.

Criticisms: ...Honestly, none? I think this might be solid. :> We'll see what happens when I draw it properly. I hope the white socks work out, because then she'll successfully be wearing the RWBY color scheme, which fits her (former, implied...) role as the glue holding the team together.

[sitp-recs]

15 fics with Harry pursuing unusual careers

I love the adrenaline and potential angst within the Auror partners trope as much as the next guy, but we can all agree that our mental health improves 10 times when we see Harry leaving the Ministry, embracing other possibilities and making his own destiny. This rec list hopes to celebrate those creative, disruptive, feel-good fics that are not afraid to come up with the most absurd positions and original job titles. They can be fun, smutty, depressing, hopeful or cathartic; there’s a little bit of everything in here and I’m hoping to bring some hidden gems into everyone’s radar, too. Happy readings!

Twisted Wizards by Enchanted_Jae (T, 3k)

Draco is just putting his life back together when Potter comes along and mucks it all up again. Job: storm chaser

The R. Correspondence by noeon (T, 7.5k)

While working on the Bagshot papers, Draco makes an important discovery for British Wizarding History. Now if only Harry can keep him alive long enough to enjoy it. Job: private security consultant

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed and @lastontheboat (T, 10k)

Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping. Job: writer

Home County, orphaned (G, 10k)

Harry is an architect and the reluctant part-owner of his own firm. Malfoy works at The Ministry but doesn’t actually have a proper job title even though what he does sounds as though it’s pretty important. Job: architect

A Working Title by mindabbles (E, 12k)

Another in the long line of absurd biographies finally drives Harry to a desperate act. How desperate he doesn't know until his ghost writer shows up at his door. Job: Daily Prophet columnist

An Improbable Bout of Summer Madness by acari (E, 16k)

Draco had planned a quiet, peaceful summer holiday with his son. The last thing he expected was to find Potter here, in Draco's little Cornish retreat. Making fudge in a shop? The idea was too ludicrous for words. Job: fudge shop owner

The Strongest Affinity by @eidheann (T, 17k)

Trouble finding a wand for Scorpius leads Harry and Draco to something they never imagined. Job: wandmaker

Phoenix Repair Services by carpemermaid (E, 20k)

Draco hires a suspiciously private wizarding handyman to fix his kitchen when he returns home to find it destroyed. He expects a middle-aged wizard with greying hair and a pudgy gut to show up. Instead, he gets Harry Potter—with a utility belt and a charming smile—who is more attractive than he has any right to be. Job: Handyman

The Snitch-Maker by Omi_Ohmy (T, 21k)

Draco is content with his Snitches, with the tap tap tap of his hammer, and the tiny gears and sharp scent of metal in his workshop - until one day Harry Potter appears, asking for help to solve a rash of Snitch-tampering in the Quidditch world. Job: QUABBLE official (Quidditch representative)

Silhouettes in Sunsets by Pie (T, 22k)

Draco Malfoy was a Gringotts accountant by day and a luthier by night, making musical instruments that sang the language of the player’s heart, language audible only to the ears of his soul mate. Harry Potter was a struggling quill pal to the children of war and the owner of Hedwig’s Owl Emporium on Diagon—haven for future pets, owls retired from services and orphaned chicks. Job: Owl Emporium owner

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win. Job: broomstick racer

Doing the Lambeth Walk by @blamebrampton (T, 26k)

There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works. Job: Owner of a Social Housing and Care Centre

All Roads by @korlaena (M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options. Job: Magizoologist

Whimsical by strawberryrose (T, 42k)

In which Draco is completely out of his depth (until he isn’t), Harry builds something improbable with the help of his friends, and everyone bonds over food. Job: amusement park owner

What Shall Not Be Unearthed by @iero0 (E, 49k)

At the northernmost point of Shetland, surrounded by pointed cliffs, towers the Ootsta Lighthouse on a small isle in the middle of the open sea. Little does Harry know that he's not the only new lighthouse keeper. Draco Malfoy is as obnoxious as he always was, with his posh tone of voice and his luxury yacht jumpers. Job: lighthouse keeper

[six-costume-refs]

2020 to 2021 Broadway Costumes Changes

We finally have enough good photos of the Six Broadway costumes that I was able to write up this post! Shoutout to @lightleckrereins for spending lots of time trying to figure out all of these with me over the last week and reading a draft to correct the things I missed.

EDIT: updated with some additional things from the GMA performance and info that @gavinckss learned from @theboycostume at Showstoppers.

Overall changes and notes: - The big news: all of the 2020 costumes were apparently rendered unusable due to the (lack of) storage environment during the pandemic. All costumes were remade as a result. Explanation here.  - One of the changes as a result of this was made to the number of layers of PVC. Sofia and I had been wondering in the past if there were two layers (a regular in that color and a clear over top) for at least one or two of the costumes. @gavinckss was able to confirm this about the 2020 Howard costume via a visit to the Showstoppers exhibit, which supports our theory that all or most of them had this for the 2020 costumes (potential exceptions noted below). However, this was one of the things that caused issues with the storage (information from @theboycostumer and relayed by @gavinckss) and was cut from the 2021 costumes to just keep the solid PVC layer. - All of the principal queens (and possibly the alternate queens) now seem to have two separate pairs of boots: the pair they wore in 2020 and a new, second pair added in 2021. There are also some noticeable design exceptions, noted below. - All of the alternates will have costumes that are identical or mostly identical (possible exceptions noted below) to the principal costumes. The one major exception to this is in the boots: they will all have a different principal crystal design but all in black and white that they wear for 5 queens and then a second pair that they wear for Cleves in the same style as principal Cleves. I made a post here with photos and info on those. - Six used to have sequin and mesh pieces on all of the costumes. However, sequins tend to be really difficult and time consuming to work with. At some point in 2020 or 2021, Six changed all of the sequin material to a new spandex with holographic dots custom printed on to mimic the look of sequins. - While some of the designs previously had stretch panels on the sides, all of the costumes now have one to improve fit and movement. Specifics noted below. (post with additional info about this will also be incoming from me or @lightleckrereins​) - Most of the Six materials are not washable in a way that can be done regularly, and the materials can also be affected by things like sweat. To prevent odor and other issues, Six has always attempted to incorporate some system of layers/undergarments to protect those materials and help separate the fabrics from the skin (post about this is upcoming). Several changes were made to address this issue. - While @lightleckrereins and I were able to notice some of these changes there are also quite possibly some smaller details in construction or material that were introduced to help deal with that and to prevent future issues with the storage scenario that aren’t as visible (could be even things like changing the material used for lining or changing the number of layers inside the costume, which we wouldn’t even be able to tell). - The studding was changed from individual glued-on studs to pre-made studded trim (info from @gavinckss) - I previously made a post about the in-ear monitors.

Aragon (L-R: Jade Marvin, Bliss 2.0, sixbliss2.0; Adrianna Hicks, Broadway 2020, mallorymaedke; unknown 2020 alt on display at Showstoppers, Broadway 2020, wintersnowfl8ke; Adrianna Hicks, Broadway 2021, 17 Sep 2021, Marc J Franklin) - The top is now separated from the gold oversleeves. - The construction and general shape of the skirt and peplum has changed: the peplum is much more separated from the bottom layer of the skirt and the shape is slightly different (hard to tell in the photos we have of Adrianna, but you can very clearly see the difference in shape between the 2021 Adrianna and the earlier version in the Jade Marvin photo) - The exact pattern of the diamond cut-outs on the center front panel differs from costume to costume. A change has been made between the 2020 and 2021 Broadway design so that the diamond cutouts stay consistent over the whole panel. - There are stitches in a diamond pattern on the vacuformed panels of the 2021 skirt. @lightleckrereins pointed out that they’re most likely structure stitches. Some or all of them may also line up with the location of the crossed boning in the skirt as described here. - Black stretch panels were added to the underside of the oversleeves (very thin panels were on the 2020, but they were so thin as to be unnoticeable. These are much wider).

Boleyn (Courtney Bowman, West End, 3 Dec 2020, @/courtneybowman_; Andrea Macasaet, Broadway 2020, @/andrea.cesyl; Unknown Showstoppers costume, 2020 or 2021, @/wintersnowfl8ke; Andrea Macasaet, Broadway 2021, 16 Sep 2021, @/andrea.cesyl on Tiktok) - The green PVC has switched from the lighter pea green to a darker emerald shade. The shade change seems to have been slowly in process for Andrea Macasaet’s 2020 costume as well as Kala Gare and Lucy Aiston’s costume, all of which have a fabric between the 2018/19 and 2021 Boleyns. The updated 2021 shade is also in use for the Showstoppers costume. - The cap sleeve on the Boleyn top under the tab sleeves has been gotten rid of entirely (you can see it well on Courtney Bowman’s costume but it is on all of these except for Andrea’s 2021). - The tabs on the bottom and sleeves are lined with the green PVC - this was a change made either for both the 2020 and 2021 Broadway or for the 2020 alt costumes and all 2021. - Small black stretch panels were added to both sides of the top.

Seymour (L-R, top to bottom: Abby Mueller, 2020 Broadway, unknown; Carly Mercedes Dyer, carlymdyer; 2020 alt at Showstoppers, @/wintersnowfl8ke; Abby Mueller, 2021 Broadway, 17 Sep 2021, Marc J Franklin for Playbill; Abby Mueller, 2021 Broadway, 16 Sep 2021, Jamie McCarthy for NBC) - This one is the possible exception when talking about a white PVC and a clear PVC on the original. It’s certainly possible but with the non-holographic white base it’s much harder to confirm that theory. Either way, the white fabric on the bodice is much more shiny in the 2020 photos and more matte in the 2021, which could be because of a second clear layer of PVC or could be because they just changed the white fabric entirely. - The 2020 costume had the usual transparent black stretch panels on the sleeves. This has been replaced by a nude fabric overlayed with the same mesh that is used on the rest of the costume (also want to note that the Showstoppers dress did not have any stretch panels and was purely for that event). - The mesh and spandex part of the cups rises much higher on the 2021 costume, and the trim on the cups better matches most of the other Seymour costumes than it does the 2020 one. - The sleeves on the Showstoppers costume had studding at the end, but neither the 2020 or 2021 Broadway costumes had this. - Abby Mueller has two-three pairs of boots, as explained here.

Cleves (L-R: Brittney Mack, 2020 Broadway, Bryan Derballa for the New York Times; Unknown 2020 Broadway alt, 11 Apr 2021; Brittney Mack, 2021 Broadway, 17 Sep 2021, @/bwaysho; Brittney Mack, 2021 Broadway, 16 Sep 2021, Jamie McCarthy for NBC) - The fit of the jacket is different, and it looks great! That isn’t a design change, it’s just fit differently. - A small black spandex stretch panel was introduced to the side of the jacket - We saw some differing silhouettes for some in-progress Cleves leotards/reveal outfits in the background of photos taken at the costume studio. No idea what the deal with those is. Could be a scrapped design, a small re-design to better flatter one of the alts, or a complete re-design for all of the queens. We may not get answers on this any time soon as the Six costume team has asked that people not share photos or boots of that costume.

Howard (Samantha Pauly, 2020 Broadway, @/sampauly; Showstoppers display costume 2021, @/theboycostumer; Samantha Pauly, 2021 Broadway, 17 Sep 2021, Marc J Franklin for Playbill; Samantha Pauly, 2021 Broadway, 17 Sep 2021, @/klphotographynyc) - Black lacing was added to both sides of the corset as a form of stretch panel. This replaced the prior mesh and spandex stretch panels as seen on the 2020 and Showstoppers costumes. - The hot pink PVC changed in color to become slightly darker; the undertones are now more monochromatic than they previously were. - Studs were added to the criss-crossed elastics. - There are also now two layers of elastics: The bottom one attached to the mesh leotard with a snap in the middle, and a top one attached to the corset with studding on it that snaps into the bottom. The one with studding is attached to the corset rather than the leotard since the leotard acts as her undergarment and is washed regularly. - The closure on the Howard skirt is a tab that is hidden under the mic holster. This was the case for the 2020 and Showstoppers costumes as well, but is different from all other Howard skirts. - The fitting of the skirt is slightly different. On the 2020 costume, the panels on either side of the opening are mostly parallel and with only a slight angle to them. On the 2021, they’re at more of an angle so the bottom of the opening is now much wider than the top (this is presumably for movement).

Parr (Costume: Anna Uzele, 2020 Broadway, @/Joan Marcus; Anna Uzele, 2021 Broadway, 16 Sep 2021, Jamie McCarthy for NBC; Anna Uzele, 2021 Broadway, 17 Sep 2021, Marc J Franklin for Playbill; Anna Uzele, 2021 Broadway, 14 Sep 2021, Sara Krulwich) (Boots: 2020 pair, Anna Uzele, 11 Apr 2021; 2020 pair, Anna Uzele, Jimmy Fallon performance, 16 Sep 2021, Jamie McCarthy for NBC; 2021 pair, Anna Uzele, 14 Sep 2021, Sara Krulwich) - There may have been a change in the color of the blue PVC. - New boots design in addition to still wearing the old ones as well (per the two pairs of boots with one old and one new). The 2020 pair has two wide straps that both split into two smaller straps, leaving four smaller ones visible from the side. The 2021 pair has three straps with buckles from what we can see of the side, but we don’t know what the straps look like in front. They could be like her 2020 boots, which look like two wide straps in the front and only look like four from the side. The 2020 are also taller (similar in length to Aragon’s) while the 2021 are shorter (similar in length to the rest of the queens). - The bottom front corners of the peplum are now rounded rather than the previous 90 degree angle. - The top is much longer and with a steeper point in the center front than it was in 2020. - The sleeves seem to be separate from the top.  - There are some black panels on the side of the top. We’re trying to figure out exactly what those are for. First, they seem like the stretch panels as are standard for the rest of the 2021 costumes. However, they also seem to have a zipper in addition to the zipper closure in the back. @lightleckrereins is theorizing that since the sleeves are now separate, those side zippers are so that they can unzip the sides, put the top on over the shoulders after the sleeves have been put on, and then zip it closed on the sides to make it easier to put on. - The stretch panels on the bottom of the sleeves extend through the vinyl section of the sleeve as well.

[bibislut]

Hello!! I'd love love LOVE if I could get a bit of a longer fic of Loki x Female Reader. The reader is a member of the Avengers and she has it BAD for Loki. They are very close but she does not think he would ever return those feelings. She is sent on a stealth mission but it goes wrong. She ends up in a sex trafficking hustle and she is a virgin. Loki notices she doesn't come back and gets worried and he rescues her before anything bad happens.

Hi! This is a fantastic prompt, and I hope I’ve done it justice!

This was a little out of my comfort zone simply because I’ve never written much action before, but I’m pretty damn happy with the result!

Word count: 4263

Warnings: Strong language, talk of sex trafficking, talk of r*pe. Nothing sexually explicit.

You sip slowly at your coffee, letting the feeling of the hot liquid oozing down your throat ease your hunched up body. 

Last night you had drunk a few too many glasses of wine, and few too little glasses of water. You trace the lines of the polished oak wood table before you, really wishing you could go back to bed. Leaning back in your chair, you take another sip as Fury's voice carries around the room.

"..simple enough for soldiers such as yourselves.." You tune him out again, the other six members of your stealth squad rigid in their seats, eyes studying the director carefully, listening silently to every word he says. 

Your eyes come into focus again as a familiar silhouette appears on the other side of the glass wall. Loki walks past nonchalantly, hands stuffed into his dark wash jeans, green t-shirt clinging deliciously to his chiseled torso. It really is unfair how gorgeous he is. You watch as he goes up to the coffee machine and presses the button for a latte. Snorting into your cup, you push your thoughts out to him. 

~Tosser ~

You know full well that he's only come down to the briefing floor to wind you up, with a perfectly good coffee machine on your own floor. 

~ Oh absolutely, my dear ~

The silken sound of Loki's voice whispers lowly in your ear, unheard by others in the room. You watch as his large hand reaches out to wrap around the paper cup.

~ Good luck, today ~

You scowl at him as he turns around and winks at you before striding away.

~ Piss off ~ 

A small smile plays at his lips just before he leaves your line of vision. He was the prick who had suggested a movie marathon last night, helped you demolish half of the wine fridge and now got to stay at the Tower all day, doing fuck all. It really wasn't fair. Maybe when you got back you could have a little revenge, cover his bedroom ceiling in pictures of Thor or something, maybe hide some photos in his drawers and pillow cases. Something he couldn't quickly magic away. 

You smirk. That might just work.

"Agent!" Fury's voice carries around the room and you flick your eyes over to him. He smiles sardonically. "Nice of you to join us."

"You're welcome." You smile back sweetly and his jaw twitches. "Don't worry, Director. I've already read the brief, and you said it yourself, the mission should be easy enough." The lie flows easily from your lips. 

"Jesus fuck, you're as bad as Stark with that mouth of yours. It's not appreciated, Agent."

"It's part of why you keep me around."

"Uh-huh." He grunts and drops the file he was holding onto the table. "Briefing concluded. You're all to be on the jet in 30 minutes."

The soldiers around you all stand up and you clear out with them. You need a filthy helping of grease, and have just enough time to leg it to the burger van a couple blocks away.

-----

You throw the dirty napkins in the bin and wash your hands, running over the brief in your mind. The hard drive you're being sent to retrieve is in the basement of an abandoned gym in one of the poorer neighbourhoods of Atlantic City. A maximum of ten men are expected to be there, all of them with weapons, no more than six of them with military training. The hard drive contains sensitive information which the leader had won in a bet, and was now trying to sell to the highest bidder. Two of your team will take the upper level, another two on the ground floor, and the last two with you in the basement. 

The most stressful thing will be dealing with Williamson's singing on the way back, an awful celebratory habit of his. Thank god he's a good soldier, otherwise you might strap him with a parachute and kick him off the jet. 

-----

“Everyone off. The entry point is three blocks west.” You motion everyone off the jet with your hands before following them as you all jog through the desolate neighbourhood. You all flatten your backs against the wall of the next door building, and you creep forwards to peer ahead. A lone man stands outside the door, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looks around. Although dressed casually, you can see the handgun tucked into his waistband. You slide the silencer onto your gun and take aim.

His body falls to the ground with a soft thud and you wave to the others to follow. Williamson moves in front of you to kick the door down and you aim over his left shoulder as the two of you take down the men inside before they can shout out. Peters and Edwards push forward into the building ahead of you, and the other four follow you to the staircase on your right. Williamson and Smith take the stairs up and you wave Johnson and Willows down with you. 

As you descend, the throbbing in your head returns and you rub your forehead, willing it to go away. The door in front of you is slightly ajar and you hold your hand up to stop the others as you listen closely.

“...the new lot are waiting by the docks, should be leaving in an hour or so.” A gruff voice says.

A high pitched laugh rings out. “Any of them any good?” 

“As if you could afford one, Anderson.” A third man snickers. 

Perfect, they’re not expecting you. You nod to the other two before pushing the door open. The men are sitting around a table, and you shoot one in the chest before the other two have even stood up. Johnson ducks as the smaller guy shoots, and you land a bullet in his throat before he can turn to you. 

The rest of the room is empty, with a door on the left and right. “Johnson, Willows. You take the right, I’ll take the left.” You whisper and they nod.

You press your ear to the door on the left. It’s mostly silent, except for the clacking of computer keys. Only one guy it seems. You kick the door open, gun raised at the man behind the computer.

Time seems to slow as your finger rests on the trigger, a flicker of surprise gracing your features at the young man in front of you; spotty skin, a star trek t-shirt stained with ketchup and a poor attempt at what is probably his first mustache.

You shouldn’t hesitate, you never have before. Maybe it’s the headache, maybe it’s something else, but either way - you know you’ve fucked up as a large figure looms in your peripheral vision to your right. You barely leap out of the way before the giant of a man’s fist punches through the air where your head was. You spin to face him, back to the young guy as you shoot straight through the big guy’s head. Turning quickly back around, you lift your gun again, expecting to see the younger guy’s face.

Instead, you see the fist of a man double your size, right before it lands on your face. You fly back against the wall, gun falling from your grip. Your head spins and vision blurs as you try to lift yourself to your feet. 

“Not so fast, pretty girl.” The brute’s giant hand wraps around your throat as shouts sound out around you. He drags you by your throat as you kick out, scratching at his fist, towards an open door at the back of the room. He drags you past several men as Johnson and Willows burst into the room, shooting at them. They disappear from sight as you’re dragged through the door into a dim hallway. You gasp for air, your vision growing dark as the blood is restricted to your head. Just as you black out, you feel yourself being hauled over the brute’s shoulder.

----

When you wake, your head is pounding and everything hurts. You’re cold, and everything is so bright. You squint around the room, taking in the concrete walls, the concrete floor, the fluorescent lights. Opposite you is a window of one way glass, and just in front of it, a camera on a tripod, the flashing red light indicating that it is recording. You look yourself over and realise with a jarring shiver that you’ve been stripped and given a simple white dress, your legs and shoulders exposed. As you do this a rattle sounds next to you and you gasp, clutching at your neck and feeling the metal collar wrapped around it. The back of it has a chain attached, and when you stand on shaky legs, you realise the chain is attached to the middle of the wall. You don’t bother to pull at it, knowing full well that it won’t budge.

The chain allows you to move about six feet away from the wall, but no further, definitely not close enough to kick at the tripod or touch the glass. The girl in the mirror looks awful, dark circles under her eyes and bruises around her neck, skin grey in the light. You grind your teeth, more angry than scared. Ten men! What a load of bullshit! They had at least fifteen in the building, and if Fury could get his fucking facts straight, you would’ve been more prepared!

You stop your gnashing as the door to the left of the camera clangs, the sound of several bolts being opened, before it swings open to reveal two men. The first, a tall, balding man in a suit, smiles at you coldly. The second is dressed in all black, clutching a rifle.

They stop next to the camera as the door slams shut behind them, echoing around the chamber. 

“Do you know why you are here?” The first man drawls, his voice like a serpents. 

You smirk at him. “You’re gonna torture me for information. Good luck with that by the way, I’ve been trained by the best. You won’t hear a peep from me.”

He snickers, covering his mouth with his hand and you try not to show your unease. “I have no use for your information, sweetheart.” He stares over at you like he can see through your dress. “No, your mind is not what I value. Your body will fetch a much higher price.”

You clench your jaw at his words, trying not to let the fear creep into you. 

He steps forwards, arms behind his back as he looks you up and down. “There are many out there who would love to have one of SHIELD’s operatives in their hands. It’s a much more personal way to… take out their grievances.”

You fight the urge to step back, away from him; and instead raise your chin at him, not looking away. 

He chuckles. “Look at that, such bravery. I do wonder how long that will hold out.” He turns away, walking back towards the wall before leaning nonchalantly against it. “I saw you, you know, when they brought you here. So beautiful, so vulnerable.” He licks his lips. “Such a lovely body too, what a shame we can’t hear how nicely you beg.” Your hands twitch by your sides, itching to cover yourself. “Tell me, are you a virgin?”

You still, not allowing yourself to do anything that will give away an answer, but that seems to be answer enough. He claps his hands in joy, pushing himself off the wall in excitement. “You are! Oh, how wonderful! We can double the price now.” He chortles to himself.

“Fuck you.” You spit at his feet, straining against the chain.

“Not me darling, but someone else. Soon.” He taps his hand on top of the camera. “Do you know why we record you? So that the buyers can get a taste for the product they’re buying; and you, sweetheart, are the newest in a long line of girls who have been in our special store.”

He picks up the camera and switches it off, handing it to the other man. “Don’t fret. You won’t be in here too long, we’ve already received some interest.”

The man knocks on the door and it opens again. “Toodles.” He wags his fingers at you before striding out.

The door shuts behind the two, and you hear the bolts sliding into place. They’re really not taking any chances with you, are they? You sit back against the wall, and run your hands through your hair. You have no idea how long has passed since you arrived at the original mission site, but it’s surely not more than a few hours. They had definitely drugged you in some way to get you here, but you were confident that they hadn’t… violated you. You shiver, closing your eyes and bowing your head.

You’d be found, right? Before.. Before you were bought by whatever despicable human wanted this kind of perverse thing. You had been wanting to lose your virginity for a while, but the right time never seemed to come around, and by the time it did, your mind was occupied with something , well, someone, else. You sure as hell aren’t going to go down without a fight, but the fear grips you tightly and blink away the tears. What if you don’t have a choice? What if they.. No. You’re not going to think about it. 

You trust the team. You trust him. Loki. He had been your rock since you joined the team, the one you clicked with the most. His quiet wit, and his loud exclamations when you got him alone. His gorgeous smile, and the amused looks he reserved only for you when the others did something stupid. The way he had taught you how to project your thoughts to him, and no one else, a private thing between the two of you. He was your best friend. And yes, maybe you had been hoping to lose your v-card to him, but that didn’t really matter now, as long as it wasn’t some evil bastard on the other side of the glass. Fuck, if you got out of here in time, you might finally grow the balls to actually tell him how you feel. He wouldn’t reciprocate of course, but at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. The thought of Loki in a slutty priest costume swims into your head. “You have a confession?” The absurdity of it makes you smile, a small reprieve from the worry itching itself through your veins.

You allow yourself to drift off into a daydream of different members of the team in ridiculous outfits, Thor as a ballerina, Tony in a unicorn onesie, Nat as Director Fury, and soon enough drift off to sleep.

-----

You wake to the sound of scraping metal, and look up at the man in the suit as he carries in a tray of food and a glass of water. He slides it over to you, some of the water spilling over the edge of the paper cup. An apple and two slices of buttered bread lie on the tray, no plate, nothing you can use as a weapon.

“I wouldn’t usually bring a girl their food myself, but I thought I’d let you know some exciting news!” He exclaims in an exaggerated tone.

You say nothing, gulping down the water as he watches your throat move. “We’ve had a tremendous response to your tape. The top six bidders will be here tomorrow morning to see you in person.”

He smiles at you in mock kindness. “Make sure you rest up well, I imagine you’ll be quite busy tomorrow.” He laughs, heading towards the door.

You stand up quickly, holding out a hand. “Wait!” He turns back, an eyebrow raised. “Could I please use the toilet?”

He smiles coldly. “Of course, I can't have you soiled when the buyers arrive.” He gestures to someone outside the door and two men walk in, dressed just as the other guy was earlier, holding guns. “Please escort her to the lavatory.” He leaves the room and the two men look at you.

“Face the wall, palms to the wall.” The one on the right barks and you do as you’re told. You feel one of them come up behind you, moving your hair out of the way and you feel sick. The jingle of keys sounds and then you feel the neck restraint slacken. Two pairs of hands grab an arm each, and they lead you away between them, your restraint falling to the floor. Outside the door is a long hallway lined with doors, all of them shut tight. You get the distinct feeling that you are underground and struggle to keep up with the guards' long strides. When you reach the end of the hallway, it opens up into a larger room, where a woman in a white lab coat is bustling about. A young girl, perhaps 17 or 18 lies unconscious on a bed, a large gash on her head. It looks as if the doctor is stitching her up. The guards pull you around the side of a curtain to see a toilet. They let you go and push you towards it. They don’t turn away, amused looks on their faces as your skin flushes. You lift your skirt, squatting down. You try to focus on something else, utterly mortified as they watch you. You reach for the toilet roll and wipe, turning around to flush the toilet.

This is the only chance you might get. You launch yourself backwards into one of the guards, grabbing his arm and shifting your weight to throw him over your shoulder. He wacks his head on the bowl of the toilet, but you don’t stop. Hitting the other guard’s pressure points, you pull the gun from his grasp, sliding it across the room. You put one foot on the unconscious guard’s body, using the momentum to launch yourself onto the other guard, hitting him repeatedly with your elbows as he tries to pry you off. You land an especially hard blow and he stumbles, allowing you to kick off him and push him into the wall which he slides down. You skid around the curtain, the doctor shielding the unconscious girl’s body as she looks at you with wide eyes. 

“Please you have to help me, how do I get out of here?!” You try not to scream the words but she just looks at you. “¿Dónde está la salida?” You say, hoping maybe she speaks spanish. The sounds of boots on concrete thunder towards the room from down the hallway and you shake her shoulders. “Please!” Again, she says nothing.

You grab a scalpel off of the tray beside her, wielding it in front of you as guards come pouring into the room. One, two, three, four, five, six. All of them aiming at you. You drop the scalpel, holding your hands up in surrender.

-----

You don’t sleep a wink all night, just staring at the wall, your back aching from the unforgiving floor. What if you’re not found in time? What if you’re sold like a slave? Images of what could happen flash through your mind and you wipe at the tears that threaten to spill over. You have to hope, you can’t give into the fear so easily.

It feels like an eternity, this waiting. Eventually, you hear voices outside. “I think you’ll find she’s much to your liking, gentleman.” The clang of the bolts sliding sounds and you push yourself back against the wall, pulling your dress as low as it will go, and yet it still won’t cover your knees. Your heart pounds in your ears as the guy in the suit walks in, followed by six other men. Your eyes lock on the second to last’s and the lights in the room flicker. Loki.

Now with short blonde hair, and wearing a cream suit; he looks almost nothing like himself. And yet you’d know those ice blue eyes anywhere, those cheekbones, those lips - usually lifted in laughter but now pressed tight together. His eyes blaze with anger as he takes you in, covered in bruises, hunched against the wall. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure everyone can hear it, and you look away quickly, not wanting to let your reaction give anything away.

~ Stay calm ~ You send your thoughts out to him.

~ My love, what have they done to you? ~ Your eyes dart back to his as the lights flicker again. His voice in your ear brings tears to your eyes as relief floods you. He’s never called you that before.

~ You need to keep your magic under control ~ 

“...bidding at 1.5, gentlemen?” The man’s voice draws you back to the room. A larger guy licks his lips at you as he raises his hand.

“Wonderful. What about 1.75? Anyone?”  Loki raises his hand and you shiver.

“Excellent. Anyone have two million for one of SHIELD’s own?” 

~ We have to delay them, the team is almost here ~ Loki’s voice in your ear is like silk, and makes you feel stronger just from hearing it.

You gulp as another man raises his hand. You had been trying so hard to contain your emotions , but if you’re gonna slow this down, you need to put on a show. 

“Fuck you!” You spit, clambering to your feet. “I dare you, fucking try me!” You scream it, letting yourself feel the anger, breathing heavily.

The men laugh at you. “Isn’t she so feisty?” One says. 

“Mmm indeed.” Another agrees and raises his hand.

“Two million, lovely. Anyone going for two and a quarter?” 

You scream, throwing yourself forward until the chain pulls painfully at your throat. “Come here you bastard, and let me give you two million dollars worth.” You reach your hands out like a mad woman, clawing at the air in front of the men. 

“May I?” Loki asks, stepping forwards towards you with fake curiosity. 

“Oi! Who said you get to touch her?!” One of the men shouts, pulling Loki back. He spins around, towering over the guy.

“Gentlemen please, let us continue the auction.” The man says and Loki straightens his blazer, returning to the wall. 

Gun shots ring out down the hall and all of them men look over to the open door. “If you’ll excuse me.” The man says, rushing from the room. 

“Looks like it’s free dibs.” One of the men says, eyeing you up. You stumble backwards as you lock eyes with him, and then another man punches him.

Apparently that is all that is needed for a brawl to break out, and you back against the wall, watching as Loki drops something, nonchalantly kicking it back to you as he throws a punch. The hook pick slides across the floor and you scramble to pick it up, sliding it into the lock around your throat. You jiggle it, almost laughing in elation as it releases, and you rip it from around your throat. When you look up, four of the men lay on the floor unconscious, and Loki slams the last against the wall, smashing his head into the concrete. 

He turns around, his glamour falling away to reveal his long black hair and leather suit. Tears pour down your face as he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you. “My little dove, I’m here.” He coos at you and you cry harder at the nickname he reserves for special occasions. 

“I was so worried… I thought.. I thought you might not find me in time.” You sob into his chest.

“Sshh, I will always be here for you.”

“Promise me.” You let your walls down with your words, and Loki sinks to the floor with you in his lap.

“I promise, my love.”

You sniffle, pulling away from him. “Don’t call me that. You don’t mean it.”

He chuckles. “Is this really the place for confessions?”

The image of him in a slutty priest outfit flashes through your head and you give a watery laugh. “Because of the unconscious cunts on the floor?”

“I mean, partly.” He says, smoothing your hair behind your ears as you wipe your face.

“Are we safe?” You ask, knowing he can sense the energies around.

“Yes, the others are waiting just outside.”

“Then yes, it is the place for confessions. I was so scared Loki…”

“Sshh it’s okay.” He rubs the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. Because through everything I was so scared that I wouldn’t get to see you, get to tell you..” You break off, tears threatening to pour again.

“I know, little dove.” He tilts your chin up to make you look at him and strokes your hair. “I love you.” He whispers the words, and your tears spill over at the sight of his own eyes shining with tears, at hearing him say the words you had waited so long for.

“I love you too, Loki.” You hold onto him tightly, and he squeezes you, letting you cry.

After several long minutes, you pull away, wiping the snot from your face. “Sorry, I probably look disgusting.”

“Be quiet. You look as gorgeous as ever.” He stands, offering you a hand. He shrugs out of his long leather jacket, draping it over your shoulders. “Let’s get you home, pet.”

****************

Hope you enjoyed!

My fic requests are open! Please refer to this post for more info!

[nukyster-blog]

Changing Course chapter 21) Forty minus one

Ivar awoke by the first sunlight of dawn. The white rays were watery and cold, like the temperature in the dungeon. Frost had slowly allowed itself to enter the castle’s walls and inched inside, ridding Ivar’s prison cell of the last bits of warmth.  

Ivar did not recall if he slept or lost consciousness due to the cold. He guessed the latter, as the bitter cold had chilled his fingers into useless numbness and crept further down into his body. It spread painfully from his toes into his feet robbing his skin of all color.  

“Maybe”, he thought, “this is not the worst day to die”; he honestly didn’t believe he’d survive the winter.

The cold of night had robbed him of strength, but not of spirit. He would not fight his death but he’d do everything in his power to keep his jaws locked and mouth shut. He’d undergo whatever punishment those Christians thought proper for his crime and die with dignity.

A gust of frigid wind wrapped around him like a shawl woven by ice itself. His teeth chattered as he tried to warm his body by rocking back and forth.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He began to lose his sense of time. Back and forth, back and forth. Hunger gnawed a hole in his stomach. Back and forth, back and forth.  

The dead rat slowly but steadily became a reasonable meal. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Ivar?”  

Ivar glanced up to the barred window. It was Piglet; in order for her to peek into Ivar’s prison cell she had to lay her head on the ground.  

“Piglet?” Ivar crawled underneath the window and stared up, squinting his eyes. The young woman above reached back for a moment and managed to shove her arm through the bars.  

A polished, red apple dropped into Ivar’s lap.

“Ivar…” her voice was brittle and soft; she reached further down into the cell as a desperate attempt for a last connection.  

It was impossible. Even if Ivar had been able to stand, the walls were too high.  

“I guess this is it then Piglet, we had a good run,” Ivar spoke toneless, watching her hand reach and wave, “we were a proper match you and I. It’s a shame you believe in a false God…” and that was where he stopped himself from becoming sentimental. Because both of them were aware they would never see each other again, there was no reason to voice the truth.  

“A shame,” he ended and shut out all of her weeping. For a while, her arm remained reaching and waving, but as Ivar remained silent, Piglet eventually gave up and left.  

He’d never know if she’d spoken any last words of goodbye for him, because he blocked everything out, all while eating her apple. Even the core, because he did not want her to get in trouble and he could use all the strength given.  

.-.-.

Overnight the lessers of the castle had placed a beech wooden pole in the centre near the well. It wouldn't be the only silent witness of Ivar’s punishment. The rest of the bystanders were already buzzing and whispering about what was to come.  

The Giant hadn’t been pleased with Ivar’s forehead statement and had wiped off the Runen R with spit and his sleeve.  

The cobblestones bruised his knees as Ivar was shoved, poked, and kicked in order to get into the centre.  

The three rulers and the fair maiden had taken place nearest the pole, seated on wooden chairs. Their place had the best view for the spectacle, although Lambertus and his wife, Haedwien, did not look pleased with being present. The fair maiden had her hand pressed against her mouth, cheeks pale and on the verge of getting sick.  

And Ludolf, sat sunken on his seat, bored and maybe even a bit embarrassed. For it was due to his “wound” that the slave had to suffer and be an example for the rest. The bystanders were on foot, nudging and pulling to get to the front row.  

For some reason Ivar was pleased to see the Christians fight for the best spot, at least those soulless bastards had some sense of bloodlust. Maybe they were more Viking then they’d like to admit.  

Ivar was forced on his knees, facing the pole. His arms were stretched far above his head and tied to the beech wood. A knife was dragged jaggedly through his humble tunic, tearing the fabric open, baring his back, shoulders and neck completely.  

“Will they Bloodeagle me?” Ivar wondered stunned, as he pressed his cheek against the wood in an attempt to pick up everything that was happening behind him. But his arms were tied too high, leaving his face and most of his upper body pressed against the pole, minimizing his mobility.  

The Giant spoke some biblical nonsense; Ivar concluded from the Giant’s tone. Ivar’s assumption was completely confirmed when he heard the book slam shut.  

The first lash came completely unexpected and Ivar broke his solemn rule—to keep his mouth shut. A pain plagued hiss managed to escape through his teeth. The second lash managed to hit the exact same position as the first and cut through Ivar’s skin. A tortuously slow pattern emerged, one of two lashes and then a moment of ease. Ivar later learned that moment of pause wasn’t for him, no, it was for the Giant, so his arm would not tire.  

The lashes seemed to rip Ivar open to the marrow, like rigged daggers the leather dug deeper and deeper into his skin. Time did not matter anymore; all that remained was the rhythm of the lashes.  

A scream from deep within forced its way from Ivar’s mouth, it was not one of fright, but one formed entirely of anger that unleashed itself like a demon. It took two more lashes to silence him, fists clenching and teeth locking up all of his remaining sound. Now that his anger escaped him, there was only despair.  

Ivar lost count after fifteen, his ears were ringing and he could no longer see clearly. His mind seemed afloat; his body a vacant, aching shell. There was a low indistinct sound, almost animalistic. It took him a moment to realize those where his own hoarse moans.  

The cobblestones wore more and more spatters of Ivar’s blood. It did not take many more lashes for his battered skin to peel loose, falling down at his knees like bloody autumn leaves.  

A deep, raspy caw called down to him. Ivar’s eyes were able to focus enough on the top of the pole to see the black silhouette of a raven, contrasting against the milky white sky.  

“Father—“ Ivar watched the bird as his front teeth scraped over the beech wood.

The raven cawed again, its beady eyes mercilessly taking in the scene beneath it. With wings black as tar, it gracefully landed near Ivar’s knees. Ravens were known for their curiosity, but even they knew their limits. It wasn’t common for birds to come so near such a large crowd of humans. But the raven did not show any hesitation and pecked at the remains of Ivar’s skin. It peeked up again, taking a piece of Ivar before lifting off, heading off into the milky white sky.  

Ivar inhaled a sharp breath as the leather tore at his skin again, but this time he felt elevated.  

“You can beat every inch of my body,” he whispered hoarsely, “but you cannot kill me. Not today, because I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, and I have my father’s blessings.”  

His eyes rolled back as his body was close to giving in to the immense pain scorching his entire back. The crowd had grown silent; most faces contorted with plagued expressions. The fair maiden had fled the scene. Ludolf’s lips were twisted into a satisfied, lopsided and sadistic smile.  

Pain prevails over every emotion. It conquers lust, hunger, envy, hatred. Pain can divide brothers by blood; it can drive wise men mad.  

To triumph over pain, you need to be extraordinary—near Godly.  

In between the last few lashes, Ivar had an epiphany: he could not die before he’d fulfilled his destiny. And, although he did not know what lay in his future, he wholeheartedly believed the Gods had laid out an exceptional path for him. It became quite clear; he had beat death too many times to simply die by the hands of a Christian commoner.  

Maybe he deserved this punishment, for he’d questioned the Gods too many times and cursed them for turning him from a cripple prince into a slave. His mother had been a Vülva, able to see the past, present and future. But interpreting the will of the Gods was hard, maybe she’d seen his death wrong and had it merely been a rebirth.  

He’d been resurrected from death, by his father, time after time. So for today, Hellheim and Valhalla had to wait for his arrival, for he had his destiny to fulfill.  

.-.-.

In the bible Moses’ Law referred to flagellation; the law itself meant forty lashes less one; thirty-nine lashes. The term was meant as a biblical one, in that 40 lashes were determined enough to kill a man, according to the Old Testament and thus 39 lashes was the most you give a man without declaring a penalty of death.  

Today the crippled slave of de Haar survived forty.  

.-.-.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I’ve been so impatient to write this chapter. At the start, I only had a few guidelines: hurt, massive hurt and excruciating hurt. But then I figured I had to keep Ivar’s spirit intact in order for him to survive. So yes, once again Ragnar in the form of a Raven reappeared. As I’ve mentioned before, you can see this every way you like, spiritual, emotional. Is it just a young man in desperate need of comfort, or is there truly a link between Midgard and Valhalla? Pick whatever you please. And in case you wonder, I’ve made up Ivar’s entire path towards his destiny like the moment I started writing this story. In my head, it’s all written out, wrapped into a trilogy. Now just the time to drabble it all out. The 40 minus 1 is a true thing btw, I’ve done some (too much) research, it’s believed that Jesus received 39 whippings and since I’ve thrown Christianity into the mix I figured I might as well add some information as well.

So that was it for today, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, or sat there cringing in your chair, either way I’ve done my job well.

Xoxoxo Nukyster

The kickass beta: @Sarahh-Jane

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@xbellaxcarolinax

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@shannygoatgruff

@pieces-by-me

@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa

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[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch25 Poppy’s Day Out P2

"WHAT?!" The loud shout from the red head staring at Mr. Grooves didn't even make the penguin flinch as he only smiled calmly at her still. Poppy gestured to herself with wide panicked eyes. "I-I CAN'T BE IN A PICTURE!! I'VE BARELY EVEN SEEN A TELEVISION BACK IN MY DAY!!"

Again DJ Grooves held his flippers up in an attempt to calm the frazzled woman down. "Now, Darling. I DID get you out of a pickle now. Conductor would've most likely made you do some hard chores in the hot sun, but no!" He held out a flipper to her and coralled her a few steps away from the mess of broken glass and metal soaking in foam. "I may have only known you for a mere twenty minutes, Darling, but any diva who can say it how it is to Conductor and have a good taste in movies might I add, is a diva I can get behind! Darling, I could really use your help!"

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HELP!? I CAN'T ACT?!" She insisted back looking a bit more panicked. "L-Look! I'll work it off. I PROMISE that, but I can NOT act in front of thousands of people!!"

The penguin looked sad for a moment then sighed. "Alright. Alright. Maybe I was a bit too forceful to jump on the chance for the princess?"

".......Princess?," Poppy asked raising a brow and Grooves nodded.

"Yes. Do you by chance know the Starella Children's Book?" ...Poppy slowly nodded to answer his question. The three children and her watched as he reached a flipper into his coat and pulled out a colorful piece of paper, and held it out to Poppy who after a moment, took it with her other hand that wasn't holding a bill. "You see this story right now is insanely popular right now with the masses especially the young ones." He patted Bow on the head as she smiled and Poppy looked back to the paper in her hand. It was a poster. It was EXACTLY like the Starella book cover with the Orange-red silhouette of Starella and the dark blue Prince. Except it had a few words and advertisment like things on it as well. Like the words 'Coming To The Big Screen Near You: Starella LIVE!! Real people. Real action. And all based on the beloved New Bird TImes' Bestselling Hit Children's Book! Come see us live Feburary 11th! Limited supply Book now for reservations!' Poppy rose a brow and looked back to him. "You see? I wanted to try something ....FRESH!! Lately I've been on a terrible, terrible losing streak! So I asked myself DJ Grooves, you are the most well known penguin director? You need something that can wow the masses and topple Conductor! Something he'd never expect! So I thought up with grand idea for this new live action play! People love the drama and suspense seeing it in person! But there was a problem setting me back. Poppy, Darling, I'm limited on actors here."

''But...wouldn't there be actors here already to fill these r-roles?"

He chuckled. "Well yes you would think that, but you see I'm staying true to the source material. Which means I need human actors, and frankly you're the perfect match for the main role!" Her panicked face went back to him but again he tried to be reassuring. "Now I don't mean to force the role onto you. That's not what Im saying at all. But I promise if you help make this a success, the profits from it will be MORE than enough to cover that. If you don't want to, I'm sure we can find you a job in storage or dress design or...Something?"

Poppy only looked at him with a wide eyed look before staring back down at the two papers in her hands. It felt like she was making a choice. A choice between one hundred thirteen thousand seven hundred fifty pons, and being the center of attention for thousands of people in some famous director's play. HOW WAS THIS FAIR?! STUPID FATE!! DID YOU JUST LIKE MESSING WITH HER FOR NO REASON?! Well there was good n bad with both. On one hand she didn't even have HALF of what these birds were saying she owed, and she wasn't sure she wanted to mess with any law makers. But working off this high of a debt could take YEARS!! She was already forced to work as a babysitter for some ghost's help(she wasn't even sure how long that contract stated she'd be staying) and she still had NO idea what he was up to, staying her paying off ANOTHER problem she caused was really not ideal. Poppy wanted to save what pons she had left, and she still had plans on leading out her own life again. Somewhere far from her cursed home and start over. The only good thing about that option was that she wouldn't be in the public eye. Blue eyes shifted over from the bill to the shiny poster. On the other hand, one play doesn't sound like a big deal when you say it outload, but there's still going to be hundreds of people watching and she'd NEVER forgive herself if she messed up in front of all those people and it might even ruin her new reputation before she even made it. WHO'D WANT TO BUY FLOWERS FROM HER THEN?!....But. A few months sounded WAY better than a few years, and she wouldn't have to spend any pons really, which would both save time and money literally but....GAH!! She couldn't decide!

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, Poppy looked down at the ever calm penguin who still politely smiled at him. "What exactly would I have to do in this ...play of yours?"

He seemed to brighten up as he explained. "Well, exactly as it sounds. We're staying clear and true to the source book material, which means I need human actors like yourself to fill in some roles I or my penguins unfortunately cannot. And you're just the spitting image of that Starella beauty! That beautiful red hair, that fiery passion. Darling you are the PERFECT fit for it!"

"POPPY'S GONNA BE STARELLA!! NO WAY!!," Hattie's eyes were suddenly wide with wonder as the other's gawks around at her.

"YOU! No way!" "THAT'S SO COOL!!"

"Now hold on!," Poppy held up her hands to stop the tirade of excitement from the girls as they all smiled up at her. "I never said I was gonna do this crazy thing."

"But you'd be a great princess,Poppy!," Bow beamed brightly up at her with wonder.

"Yeah! I know, but-"

"So you'll do it?," Mu asked crossing her arms, "If you know you'll do a good job, why not?"

She stuttered over her words. "W-Well, I didn't mean-...I-it's not like that-...I-.....*sigh*" Looking back down to the two papers in her hand and all the choices slapping her in the face made her grip the papers tighter...before loosening it with a sigh closing her eyes. ".....Fine. I'll be the princess."

What followed was a chorus of 'YAY!' from the three girls, and Mr. Grooves smiling like he won a million pons. "OH! Thank you, Darling! Thank you! You won't regret it I SWEAR!! Here. Let me just take care of my end of the agreement right now." From her hand he grabbed the large bill and in a swift moment the paper was torn completely in half. "There! Nothing to worry about now!" Well....Seeing she no longer had a large bill on her shoulders made her sigh in half relief but there was still butterflies in her stomach from the dread that was to come as she watched the paper fall to the floor and sighed. Looking back to the glamorous poster she got even more nervous feelings in her stomach.

"Great. W-When do we start?"

"Not until I have the other four remaining roles filled. To be perfectly honest, the hardest part of making a film is finding good people for the job. Not to put down the staff, but my penguins are quite frankly terrible actors."

She found herself breathing a sigh of relief at that, her feelings going somewhat back to normal. "I'm....I-I'm really sorry for all the trouble I caused all ya, Mr. Grooves. I promise to work hard for it."

He waved a hand. "Darling! You don't have to apologize for anything. It was a simple mistake no one saw coming. If fact, I should be thanking you! Thanks to you I have one less thing to worry about!"

She chuckled nervously but inside she was still nervous as if she was already standing on stage. "Well....I guess I should start practicin'."

"The best way you can practice is by memorizing that story, Darlin'. I'll send notice once the other roles are filled."

She was about to ask something else when the door behind them opened and they all turned to FINALLY a relieving sight for sore eyes. The metal door creaked open and at last Cookie returned, a small white purse thrown over one of her shoulders as she smiled and the door closed behind her with another loud creaking noise as she walked in. Smiling as her eyes landed on the kids and two adults. Stepping closer the cat paused seeing the now sweeping owls who at some point in Mr. Grooves's and Poppy's conversation had gotten out brooms to clean up the giant mess she had caused. Blinking Cookie looked back up to them with a raised brow.

"...Did I miss somethin'?," she asked pointing to the mess behind her.

"Only the most hilarious talk back the old geezer's gotten! HAHA!!" Mu looked up to Poppy with a smile. "You know what? I like her now! The old wind bag needed to hear something like that for a long time!"

"Muriel!" Mu froze at the scowl Cookie was giving her, giving the famous 'Mom' pose of one hand on her hip and tapping her foot staring her down. "I HOPE you're not referrin' to Conductor now. I'd hate to be the one who grounds ya."

"He was acting rude...But I guess it's a little bit of my fault too." Poppy turned her gaze over to the mess behind them and Cookie looked at her as she nudged away a piece of metal by her foot. "I accidentally knocked over and destroyed this.....camera did ya'll call it? I'd be pretty angry too if someone ruined somethin' like this of mine....But he was still being quite rude."

Cookie stared at her a bit, then at the mess, seeming to quickly put two and two together in figuring out what must've happened while she was gone and groaned. Reaching a paw up to facepalm herself. ''I leave for JUST a few minutes and ya'll are in trouble. What am I going to do with all of ya?" ....A low rumble from Poppy's stomach answered that as she looked suddenly embarrased. Cookie gave a small chuckle and shook her head. "Well I guess there's mah answer. I still owe you all that lunch I promised huh? Well, now that I have this we can grab a bite from my resturaunt across the studio here." Another chorus of Yay! came from the children at the promise of free food from Cookie and Poppy gave a sigh of relief. At least one thing was looking up for her situation. Cookie turned her gaze to Mr. Grooves. "Would ya care to join us, Mr. Grooves? Of course it'll be on the house."

DJ Grooves held up his flipper. "I would LOVE nothing more than to accompany all you darlings, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline you're little offer. I still have too much to do and so little time with the costumes, and interviews, and over seeing the scenes being built by the production team. Lately there was an accident on set and we have to rebuild two and a half of the scenes and props."

"Oh my. That does sound really busy. Tell ya what, stop by on your break and order ya some fish on the house. Just tell 'em I sent ya."

"Thank you, Darling. Truely you are an angel in the fur!"

Poppy was glad to grab all her heavy tools and bags again off the floor and follow Cookie out, but not before apologizing again to Mr. Grooves for the embarrassing incident and back out into the hot afternoon sun they went. It was farther along in the sky now meaning it must've been later in the afternoon than she thought. Probably 4:00 or 5:00 p.m.. But she didn't care right now. She had worries in her brain, butterflies inside her empty stomach, and not enough water in her whole body. She was hungry, and thirsty. So take care of one easily problem first before thinking thing's over on the other problem she had gotten herself into for now. Most of the owls they originally saw on their way there were probably already home considering how long it had been since they had arrived but it was until 10:00 until they could go back home on the train, and she was NOT really ready for those transporting umbrellas. The building Cookie lead them too was really just across the studios, and from the outside looked like any of the other plain buildings but only bigger as if two of the regular buildings were smooshed together. Cookie explained this was her long time dream resturaunt and she modeled it after her old home so she could visit it without any of the danger that came with Nyakuza City. Bow seemed REALLY excited at it and Poppy soon found out why. The inside of the resturant looked EXACTLY like the metro room except for the flying tvs, pile of money, and weird moving thing. But the city part yes. But honestly she could care less, Poppy's amazement was overtaken by her hunger and thirst, plus the cool air washing over her again was a great relief again from the hot outside. It looked like a typical resturaunt with tables, chairs, (besides the metro theme) decor, and two double doors that lead to the kitchen she assumed since that's where all the mouth watering smells were coming from. Her stomach grumbled again and Cookie chuckled at it making her more embarrassed at it. there was another counter with a register and yet another owl who lit up at the sight of her boss.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. Wasn't expecting you today! Eating with friends today I see. We'll have a waiter right out to you."

Well she was very polite. And they were the only ones there apparently as the children were free to run in and choose a random large table in the middle. Cookie gave her the alright to leave her things on the bench by the door and THIS time Poppy made sure to lay them in a position that didn't pose any threat unless some numbskull sat on it without looking. The two adults joined the three children at the table and sat down at the round table. Odd they would be literally the only ones there in this part of the day. When voicing this to the cat, Cookie explained since this was modeled after her old home all she sold here was the food from the city, and not a lot of penguins or owls liked the dishes other than the teas, coffes, and fish appitizer. Which in Poppy's eyes was valid since everyone had different tastes, it was totally acceptable different species would too. Not long after they were greeted like a waiter who said 'Hi!' and passed out these things called Menu's which Cookie explained listed the dishes and the catagories they were under. Assuming 'swamp people' didn't get out much since she hadn't seen a TV before coming into Hattie's ship. Poppy took a look at it and it read:

Deserts:

Cake: A sweet baked desert, usually reserved for special occasions like birthdays, weddings, or 2 A.M. Ice Cream Sandwhich: ice cream served between two biscuits or wafers. Sandwich only by name, this desert has mastered the art if disguise. Triple Scoop: Vanilla cream frozen at the right temperature then shaped into a ball, then put in a cone. Many scoops in your cone will impress your scoopless peers and get you that promotion. Meals

Hamburger: Meat, lettace, and buns grilled and served with condaments. While some may prefer meat alternatives and some skip the lettece, all greatly prefer the prescence of the buns.

Katsu Curry: A tasty pork cutlet cut into stripes served with the rich flavorful curry and usually rice. While the pun is irristdable given you're in a cat metro it will not be appreciated.

Shoyu Ramen: A warm chicken and vegistable broth, served with toppings of your choice. The perfect comfort food of the cold night after you miss the last train of the day.

The Metro Special: A big bowl of rice with fried fish, egg, and chips. A meal of everything, proving that little care can have delicious results.

Rice: Rice is one of the most consumed foods on the planet. It's easy to prepare and cheap, and the savior of wet cellphones.

Side Dishes

Meatballs: Grounded meat rolled into a small ball. To reach true enlightenment you must understand as meatballs go in hair balls go out.

French Fries: sliced and deep fried potatoes. An important reminder that when are alone we are all small fry but together we're delicious.

Fish: Battered and fried fish, usually cod or poloc. Most cats love being able to buy it fried since there's no fish tanks in the metro to steal from.

Soup Dumplings: Steamed dough buns filled with meat and soup. You won't know exactly what taste hides beneath the dough until you build up the courage to bite into the unknown.

Spring Roll: A wide variety of rolled appetizers often filled with meat or veggistables. A tasty snack whatever the season.

Drinks

Hot Chocolate: A sweet, hot drink made from shaved or melted chocolate powder. Enjoy with a sprinkling of mini marshmallows and a swirl of cream if you wanted to visit your dentist soon.

Tea: A hot drink made from boiling water and leaves of plants. Great for getting warmed up on a cold day, either when you drink it or when someone bumps into you

Large Soda: A carbonated drink in a large container. The large soda remains the unsung hero of moderation. An acceptable pick in the eyes of your peers, just one size short of gluttony.

Coffee: A warm brewed drink prepared from coffee beans. Consuming this drink on a regular basis transforms a kitten into a cat and a cat to a nervous wreck.

Kitten Meals

Drinks The Juice Box: Pressed from fruit and put into a box. Premium juice often shows chunky pulp showing the hypocracy in mankind's unwillingness to drink spoiled milk.

Mini Soda: Small enough parents can't complain to us about a sugar rush.

Meals Pizza Slice: A round dough base topped with tomato, cheese, and other toppings. Most chefs are reduced to tears by witnessing such triangular beauty. Mini Hamburger an Fries: Like the adult meals but much smaller.

Deserts:

Cookies: Small baked biscuits usually filled with chocolate chips, raisins, or something else. Great for a quick snack or dropping crumbs everywhere.

Wow. So much detail. It was pretty impressive, this must be what it was like to eat rich. She jumped when the waiter owl came back with a smile.

"Are you ladies ready to order?," he asked with a smile and paper 'n pencil in wing.

"PIZZA!," the three children yelled in unison throwing their hands up in a rather cute way.

"And this extra large soda!," Hattie added much to the other two's agreement.

"Soda?....As in Soda pop?" Hattie nodded in agreement and Poppy shook her head. "Oh no ya don't! I don't need another long night of trying to wrestle you two to sleep!....This fruit juice sounds nice."

The girls awed but Cookie agreed with her. "Absolutely. I don't need Mu hyped up either but if you're all good you all can have some cookies and hot coco." The kids quickly agreed and she purred happily with herself before looking back at the waiter. "Well you heard them."

The waiter nodded and wrote something on the notepad. "Alright. Pizza and juices for the chicklings. And you lovely ladies?"

"Some Shoyu would be nice. Haven't had it in a month, and bring me a plate of that fish will you." She glanced at Mu for a moment and sighed. "And some coffee...I'm going to need it."

The waiter nodded again and looked directly at Poppy. ''And you Miss?"

"Oh.....Uh.." Her eyes glazed over the strange items for sale on the paper and went silent for a few seconds. "I- Uh-....D-Don't really know what a lot of this is actually."

"That's alright. Do you want me to order for you?"

She sighed. "That'd actually be great thanks."

So Cookie just told the owl waiter to bring Poppy some Katsu Curry and some tea, what ever the heck Katsu Curry was. The menu did saw it was supposed to have pork and rice with sounded delicious. The waiter nodded and soon disappeared through those double doors on the far side of the room and it would be a couple moments. Until then Cookie asked Poppy to fill her in on what exactly happened while she was gone inside the studios. And quite embarrassed the children jumped in to excitedly tell Cookie all about how Poppy's leaned her tools against the giant camera and Conductor coming in, and how the camera fell and Poppy took the blame like a hero and put Conductor in his place. Cookie actually looked quite surprised at the mention of the exchange between Poppy and Conductor, and Poppy sunk into her seat a bit from the embarrassment she was feeling especially then Hattie excitedly announced that Poppy agreed to play the princess in her favorite book for Mr. Grooves.

"Well......It certainly looks like someone has quite the stubborn attitude."

THANK PECK!! The food came out just as she was starting to get nervous again and her stomach rumbled again at the smell of food as it came over to them. The large tray the waiter was carrying was placed in the middle of the table and the first person to receive their food was Cookie. Placed in front of her was a bowl of long noodles with two pieces of chicken, a sliced egg, and a few spices making the seasoned chicken smell all the more better, and next to it came a small plate of white paper and on it was five pieces of bread covered fish. Which also smelt good. The kids cheered as they were handed their pizza and juice boxes. Poppy never even heard of pizza but by the looks of it it looked like some kind of baked bread with seasoning and toppings. How peculiar. The pink juiceboxes were adorable though, with the cat print holding a fake strawberry. Her's looked and smelt just as delicious! What was placed in front of her was a bowl of rice, chopped fried pork, beans, and what looked like lettace! But either way it smelt delicious! Next to it was a small wrapped burrito like thing that she looked at curiously.

"It's an spring roll," Cookie explained noticing her confused expression, "It's usually served with that dish. Sorta like an eggroll but made slightly differently."

And then there was her tea which was served in the cutest coffee cup she'd ever seen! It was shaped just like a cat with a painted face. While the children dug into their well deserved lunch followed by Cookie, Poppy took a moment to admire the well put together dish and the smell it radiated before slowly grabbing her fork and digging it. Shoving a piece of that pork into her mouth........H O L Y P E C K!!!! IT WAS DELICIOUS!!! It was even better that that cheese omlet thing Cookie had given to her hours ago for breakfast. The seasoning, the juicy pork. The fluffy rice!! It was so GOOD!! In a moment she was eating as eagerly as the kids and Cookie watched with a patient smile as the hungry girls ate. She didn't seem fazed a bit or anything as they did so. Probably used to seeing people with healthy appitites. Fair enough the kids finished before  her and understandably begged for more. That's how it went. All for about an  hour it was pretty peaceful. The food was good. She had never had such pork or rice before and the tea was quite refreshing from the hot sun and to her dry throat. And Cookie true to her name, decided to let the still hungry children have more food like they begged and out came some cute cat shapes cookies and coco like she promised. Which amazed her because back in her day chocolate was a delicacy that only the rich and wealthy could afford and yet here they were eating it like it was an everyday item. When offered by Cookie if she'd want anything like that too of course she accepted! When was she gonna get a second chance at eating chocolate! The cake she ate was the BEST THING SHE HAD EVER TASTED!! Even better than the wild honey she'd sometimes stumble across in the forest. Her only real slip up was jolting and dropping her fork when something red flashed across the corner of her eyes but relaxed when it was only a red bird sitting outside the window. It tilted it's head looking inside for a moment before flying off again. Something was definately off about her. She could feel it. Poppy just didn't know what. But for the rest of the time she spent out she tried to bury her worries for her own sake. She just felt really drained right now for now real reason.

But all good things must come to an end. Hours passed and soon enough it was time for all of them to go home. Poppy could barely remember the long ride back up to the moon city and then again back to Hattie's ship. All she really did was smile and politely agree and tried to not make anymore embarrasing mistakes. Even as Cookie and Mu bid them all a good night and Poppy thanked her for the wonderful day out and the take out she had let them take back with them before they disappeared back presumably to take the night train back before they missed it. It was still a blur when she just flopped onto the cold floor completely physically and mentally exhausted and falling into the world of dreams and red eyes.

[nxrthmizu]

Daminette December Day 6: ‘Tree’

@daminette-december2019

“Hurry up!” Marinette chastised, eager to get started. Her beloved kitten only chuckled and laughed as he dragged the Christmas tree out of their apartment storeroom. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He soothed, dragging the tree across their white tiled floor. 

Marinette grinned, the box of ornaments in her hand jingling as she jumped excitedly. “Come on, let’s get to decorating!!!”

"Is here okay?” He asked, setting the tree upright, panting a little. 

Marinette frowned. “Damian? Are you alright? You seem a little out of breath.” She paused. “You know, if you needed help, you could’ve just asked.” 

Her kitten reached over to press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, but I don’t want to put too much strain on you and the baby. It’s alright.”

For the two hundreth time, Marinette groaned. “For the last time, Damian, I’m pregnant, not disabled.” 

Damian sighed, holding her by her waist. “I know, but just let me take care of you, okay? Here, you get to decorate the tree.” 

Marinette pouted, but she still took the ornament from him. “Fine.” She muttered, placing the ornament on a branch. “Is it nice there?” 

“Honestly, frankly speaking, I think it looks fine anywhere. The whole tree is the same.” He told her, shrugging until she glared at him, making him shrink. There were only three things that Damian Wayne was scared of- Alfred’s glare, Dick’s glare, and most of all Marinette, his angel, the love of his life’s glare. That was it. “Uh- Yeah. It looks... Very in place. Very in place. You chose the right spot, angel.” 

In the fraction of a second, she smiled again. “Okay! Can you hand me another ornament?” 

---

“There we go!” Marinette giggled, placing the last ornament in place, stepping back to take a proud look over her work. “What do you think?” 

“I think it looks marvellous, angel.” Damian complimented, smiling. It might be just an ordinary Christmas tree, but it was decorated with his angel’s love and effort, and therefore, he would protect the tree with his life. 

“We’re not done just yet.” Marinette beamed, running off into their storeroom to get a rather new-looking box. 

Damian immediately rushed over to help his angel with the box, setting it down exactly where she instructed him to. “And what’s this?” He questioned. 

“Some... Specialised ornaments.” Marinette grinned secretively. “Go into the kitchen! You're not allowed to come out until I’m done.” 

Damian let out a sigh at how childish his pregnant wife was, but never argued (He knew better than to do so). After hearing her shuffle about for a few moments, he decided to take a risk... And take a peek. 

He peered over the divider wall, eyes widening at what he saw. Whatever he expected... It wasn’t that. 

---

As soon as she was sure that Damian was behind the divider, she squealed softly and opened the box, revealing the ornaments she’d personalised herself. 

The first one was a completely black one except for a white tracing of a bat. 

The second was black as well, but with a blue tracing of a hawk-like bird. 

The third was black- Again- But with a red bat instead. 

The fourth was black and yellow, with a bird like emblem painted in bright yellow. 

The last, of course, was the most special. It was black (God, the Wayne family and their infatuation with black), with a yellow tracing of a yellow cat silhouette against the black, a dark ‘R’ painted across the cat’s chest. 

She set those ornaments up as high as she could, then adding a red-and-black dotted ornament at the very end, as well as another ornament painted to look like a suit (For Alfie, of course). 

“Now, the star.” She murmured to herself, bending down to retrieve the yellow ornament that went to the very top of the tree, 

Christmas was going to be perfect. 

[@miraculous-simmer7 @bluerosette23 @ladysblackcat @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dast218 @kris-pines04 @shamefullove @thesunanditsangel]

[bluebellhairpin]

Marvel Headcanons - Road Trips

A/N: I’m a horrible person. But at least my procrastination of my asks is being for-filled in a way that still sprouts content. - Nemo

Summary: The Avengers and their S/O go on a road trip. Gods? Mutants? Aliens? with them, what could go wrong? 

Masterlist  

Loki Laufeyson

Bruh. You go on a road-trip with this guy and you’re gonna really wish you d i d n ‘ t. 

Tricks. So many tricks. This guy can’t drive a car, he has nothing to do except play tricks. Look At That Face, no remorse, no mercy. You gotta be strong af to survive a trip like this with Loki. 

bUt he does buy you all the food. And all the stuff you like. In mass amounts. (“(y/n), you said you liked this sweet packet stuff right? Ah, good. I brought five boxes so we don’t run out.” ) Like five whole boxes

So what’s it gonna be? Trickery for food? Yay or nay? Yay, definitely yay. 

Peter Parker/Spider-Man

You will not sleep. Y’all get too hyped up of junk food and adrenaline to sleep for more then half an hour at a time so POWER NAPS ALL THE WAY THERE AND BACK

He video’s everything. He says it’s to show May and Tony when you get back but we all know the truth. Its so he can get one of those cool old-style videos of you No shame that boy has.

He lets you pick all the music, as long as it’s not AC/DC because he had an experience with Tony that involved ‘Thunderstruck’, hacking and his suits earpieces that lasted a over a week that we s h a l l n o t  s p e a k o f e v e r

But overall it’s a really cute trip. So cliche. So romantic. So amazing.

Tony Stark/Iron Man

Loves every second because it’s with you and after everything he’s been through that is all he needs and wants.

He has playlists, cars, hotel reservations, restaurant reservations, food stops, food stashes, sights to see. All these things are ready before you even suggested getting away for a couple days. 

Turns into a sappy, flirty mess. It’s almost like the trip turned back time to when you both first met and the only problem he had was making a new missile to sell to some place in Afghanistan.

He’s just so ready for a break, low and behold please give i t t o H i m

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Road-trips with Steve are done on the back of his motorbike and you can fight me on this. Mostly because he likes it when you wrap your arms around his torso so yeah fight me again.

Despite the trip being a road trip you both spend a lot of time at stops and motels instead of on the road. He likes taking things slow, since he hasn’t gotten to do things slowly for over four years after he woke up. He’s very grateful if you let him do this.

He lets you take lots of photo’s of him whether you’re good at it or not doesn't bother him. Even frames one you took of his silhouette because it looks that good to him. 

 Becomes addicted to cocktails after the second road trip because “they’re so colourful and come in so many flavours, (y/n) have you tried this blue one yet? Look they have one named after me-” 

Thor Odinson

He gets so hyped and excited. 

He really loves travelling and learning about earth more like you teaching him about earth stuff so he’s so optimistic about the whole trip and that attitude rubs off on you so you end up coming home all happy too.

He brings lollies/sweets/candy with you and lemme say you are bouncing off the walls the whole damn time. One time he got so hyped on sugar he almost summoned lighting. 

You take Loki sometimes. He pretends he doesn't like it, but he does. He thought we wouldn’t notice but we did. So Loki ends up being the ‘bored’ third wheel while you and Thor stuff your faces with sour worms, chocolate, and gobstoppers.  

Bruce Banner/Hulk

He’s gets so soft, and that makes you soft, and then you come back and your combined softness makes everyone else so very soft.

He worries about Hulk coming out and ruining the trip and the car but you constantly tell him and reassure him that it’s fine and you’ve managed to hone the ability to calm Hulk down when things get out of hand.

Needless to say he relaxes almost completely and w o w you didn’t know he sung that well.

And damn when you come back he’s like a changed man. Shyness? Almost gone. Reluctance to join conversations? Hell N a h. He almost becomes Tony 2.0 but only around you because “No one will believe you (y/n)”

Clint Barton/Hawkeye/Ronin

Clint almost l i v e s for road trips with you. I say almost because he lives for you.

You hunt down carnivals so he can win you all the prizes. The others aren't even surprised when you come back with a carload at stuffed toys anymore.

You also stop at a number of piers and sit at the end with fish and chips and some beer and just talk. Life. The future. The past. That one slice of pizza that tasted better than any others you've ever eaten in your entire lives.

You guys just do so much stuff. And its all so wholesome and pure and s o f t. 

Peter Quill/Star Lord

Did someone say road trip? Peter has all the tunes.

So much as touch the radio/speakers without his knowledge and you're preparing yourself to (possibly) walk home. He doesn't care if you're the other side of the country. You will walk.

He's a sucker for staying up and stargazing with you. He'll point out all the planets he's been to, and all the ones he wants to take you to later.

While Stargazing, be prepaid to have him jump up and pull you to him if a 'dancing song' comes on. That can range from the 'Livin La Vida Loca' to 'All of Me’. It's amazing. 

Scott Lang/Ant-Man

He's a dad. He knows how to keep others and himself  entertained on long trips.

Magic tricks. Snacks. Music. Jokes. Everything and anything you can think of to pass time, he's got it ready and waiting.

Sometimes he takes Cassy with you, and honesty things become more fun (if that's at all possible). Which means, for you, more food, music from your childhood, and embarrassing stories about Scott that Cass had managed to get hold of.

Overall it’s pretty cute going on road trips with Scott, that and it’s never ever boring. 

T’Challa/Black Panther

He’s a king, and a very busy one at that. So when you manage to pull him away from his duties he treats you extremely well. 

First he takes you to a certain county (Once it was Singapore (that was a very luxurious trip), another time Hawaii, etc), then he gets a hire car and takes you wherever else you’d like go.

Every time, every trip, he finds a Starbucks. He collects the cups and brings them back to Okoye. He does it to spite her. You know it.

He gets much more relaxed on the trips, and always comes back being able to deal with his duties much better.

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier

Wow okay first off, Bucky loves road trips with you. 

He manages to persuade Tony to lean him one of his fancy older cars and takes you along the coast in that. He’s a coast road trip type of guy.

He really loves the beach, the only thing that gets in his way is the sand and salty water getting in the joints of his arm, but he says he can “just take it off, don’t worry darlin’.” so yeah it’s r e a l l y not a problem. 

If he can't get a hold of one of Tony’s old cars, he gets an old pickup truck/ute and camps outside on the back with you and watches the stars and has old 30′s/40′s music playing from the radio. It’s pretty cute. Like him. 

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler

Mate. This guy has no idea what he's doing. 

Once he tried to bring, like, a whole ass record player because he was worried there’d be nothing to dance along to. Seriously, Kurt, we have a ca r a d i o for that. Precious Baby Boy.

He’s also pretty young, so be prepared to have lots of contraband School food (sour lollies, chips, etc) stashed everywhere in the car. This boy will eat all the junk food he can lay his three-fingered hands on. R E S T R A I N HIM. 

He'd probably take every opportunity he can to cuddle you or take you hand in his. He’s not quite used to doing ‘normal’ stuff like this, so the fact he’s doing something like that with you means a lot. 

Doctor Stephen Strange

He’s, um. He’s not used to this sort of thing either.

He’s been this arrogant, selfish, self-absorbed neurosurgeon for as long as he can remember. The most social and intimate thing he’s used to doing is ‘faking it’ with some random to make him look good.

BUT, sudeNly with you he kinda turns to a charismatic, sweetheart gentleman that will actually take you wherever you’d like to go. France? Okay. Brazil? Just south a little. China? Food’s great there. Russia? We’ll take ice skating lessons before we go. 

He can’t actually leave NYC for long, but he will spend as much time with you on trips away because they help him relax and it’s n i c e.

[reminiscing-writer]

The past 1/2

Prompt:

You were in an abusive relationship in the past, but had left the asshole and moved on- now dating your fellow colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid. But after your ex makes a return in your life, someone has to pay a price.

Warning:

Angst. Nothing really, in this chapter. Minor violence maybe

——————

You walked into the office, playing with the long necklace that sat right at the center of your chest, when your eyes fell on a large bouquet of white flowers sitting on a desk. Your desk. You furrow your brows as you get closer, and change your direction, going towards your boyfriends desk.

“G’morning, Spence.” You greet him from behind, having him to turn his chair around to greet you with a smile.

“Hey,” He gets up and starts to make his way towards you, “how’s your morning been?”

“Alright,” you look past him and nod towards the roses on your desk, “you get me those? They’re very pretty.”

He looks behind him in confusion and simply shakes his head. “Um, no. Sorry. I know your favorite flowers are daisies, I wouldn’t get you roses.” He adds, shrugging and turning back to you and giving you a peck on the cheek.

You excused yourself from him before the PDA attracted Hotch’s attention and finally came to your desk. There was a small note on the flowers.

I’ve missed you.

You pick up the card and look for a name, or at least an indication where it could’ve come from. Nothing. Taking a look around the office, you don’t see anyone who seems to be paying attention to you.

Crumpling the card and tossing in the garbage, you don’t pay much attention to the gift from that morning, and get to work.

Days pass, and over the course of two weeks, you had received a box of chocolates, and a ginormous sized teddy bear.

Lifting the bear off your desk, you put it on the floor, next to your little trash bin. You scoff at the sight of the bear and the chocolates in the trash.

“Should I be getting jealous?” You hear Spencer approach from behind you, putting his arms around your waist.

You rest your head back onto his chest, “Maybe, I mean, this is some pretty tough competition.” You smile playfully.

He turns you around, “Are you kidding me? You think roses are a cliche, you don’t even like nuts in your chocolates, and I’ve gotten you a bigger bear than that.” He smirks.

You giggle and tiptoe, giving him a peck on his lips. As you pull back, he moves in towards you, deepening the kiss.

A peck turns to a kiss, a kiss to a make out and soon enough, your hands were in his hair and his hands on the back of your neck and around your waist.

-

Work that day had been alright. No new cases, just finishing up work from another. JJ and Penelope were planning on going out for a girls night out, but, you were just craving your bed and Emily had plans with Sergio- her cat.

You enter your small apartment and throw your bag on the couch, kicking your shoes off at the same time. Reid had brought in take out for lunch, so you weren’t very hungry. Just drinking a small glass of water, you quickly undressed from your work attire and got into a large T, and practically jumped into bed, just waiting to be engulfed by sleep.

The sleep which got interrupted much too fast because the glass of water you drank before bed wanted to make an out from your body. You groan in annoyance, not wanting to listen to your bladder, but roll out of bed anyways.

Glancing at the digital clock by your bedside, you read 3:48. You shuffle around your apartment with one eye open, and sleepily make it to the bathroom.

Just as you flush, you think you hear your front door open. Seizing all movements, you whip your head to your living room. Through your dark apartment, you can just barley make out your front doorknob twisting.

Your heart starts beating fast. No one you knew had keys- with the exception of your boyfriend. And, this late at night, even he wouldn’t be coming to visit you. Before the door opens, you get quick on your feet, and run into your room. Grabbing your phone from under your pillow, you rush into your closet and duck behind a bunch of coats and dresses.

You heart beat is loud in your ears and your breath is shaky. You can hear someone come into your home. Through the slits of your closet door, you make out the person enter the kitchen and walk around a bit before going into the living room.

You bring your phone up to your face and quickly dial Spencer’s number.

One ring. Two ring. Three ring.

Voicemail.

Shit.

You hit redial and pray that he answers.

One ring two r-

“Hello?” You hear his groggy voice swallow as he answers.

“Spencer, please, help.” You barely make out into a whisper.

“Y/n?” He asks, “What’s wrong?” You hear him shuffle, probably sitting up.

“Spencer,” You sniffle, tears making their way down your cheeks, “there’s... there’s someone here.”

You can sense his confusion, “Baby, it was probably just a nightmare, I’m su-“

“No, no it’s not. He’s here. I can see him. He’s looking for something, I’m hiding.” Your hands are shaking. Your nose is runny. Your voice is cracking.

“Y/n, stay exactly where you are.” You can hear him moving around. “I’m coming, just...” he swallows hard, “just, stay hidden.”

“Please,” You beg, “please, hurry. And please, don’t hang up on me.”

As you cling onto the phone, you see the dark silhouette of the intruder make its way towards you. It enters your room and makes its way straight towards the closet.

Your breathing fastens and the man rips open the closet doors. You scream, the loudest your throat will allow, hoping it’ll wake the neighbors at least. His large hands go straight for your throat, cutting of your scream for help, making you nearly piss yourself from fear.

He lifts you by the neck, and the instant his face catches light, you recognize him.

Your eyes widen and you start to try and attack the man- not being able to do much as he has a strong grip on your oxygen supply.

“P-please,” you choke out, “leave me alone.” You cry.

On the other end of that phone, your boyfriend was hearing everything. He had heard your scream of terror, and he had heard your phone fall as you choked for air.

Your attacker pushed you up against the wall, and head butted you hard, knocking you out. Dropping your unconscious body to the floor like a rag doll, he saw your phone and simply crushed it under his large boots.

Your boyfriend had arrived to your apartment, hair distraught, eyes already teary, and frankly- just a little too late. Your home was a mess. Plates broken. Windows smashed. Blood on the wall. And you- missing.

-

This is part two!!!!

[blkmxrvel]

Carol Danvers Fluff A-Z Headcanon

Pairing: Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel x Female!Reader

Request: -

Warnings: None

A/N: I’m pretty sure you all saw this coming. And if you didn’t.....well.

A = affection (how affectionate are they in day to day life? Do they show affection publicly or keep that more in private?)

Growing up on Hala (we all know she didn’t but you know what I mean), Carol was always taught the less affection the better. She willed herself to never care or let her personal feelings get in the way. To her, the mission at task was always the most important.

But when she met you, all of that changed. She never understood why she wanted to hold your hand, or why she always started glowing when someone said something remotely offensive to you. 

Once she got over all of that however, you can best your bottom dollar that Carol was the most affectionate person you’d ever met. She doesn’t believe in showing you off in front of anybody, or anything like that. She knew you were hers, so affection didnt’t happen much when you were in public. But! At home around people you were both comfortable around, she would never stop with the pet names, holding, and random kisses. You never complained, and she never stopped.

B =best memory (what is the best memory they have with you)

She has two, even though they didn’t happen at the same time they’re both the same thing. The first time she met you. 

Before she had gone missing, you two were in the same troop in the Air Force. The day she walked on the field, she couldn’t take here eyes off of you. You smiled at her and she had committed to her memory. You two had became the best of friends after that.

After the six years, you were at Monica’s house when she and Fury came to the house. And Carol swears that everything came back to her in that moment. It was like you were the one with powers, the way a orange silhouette followed you around. She soaked in the way your body felt against hers when you hugged her.

Everything came flooding back. The laughs, the cries, the anger and the love. She had remembered it all.

C = cat or dog person

Cats, duh. Have you met Goose? Okay we know that he’s not an actual cat, but the way he looks, how fluffy he is has inspired Carol to never own any other animal. D = dreams (what do they want to do in life?)

To protect. That's always been her purpose. On Kree and even before the crash, she always wanted to protect her people. You, Monica, Maria, Fury; are her people, and she will be damned if she lets anything happen to any of you. E = evenings (how do they spend their evening? So they go out? Do they read?)

Sleep, sleep, sleep and more sleep. Trying to save planets and the universe really takes a toll, so she naps as much as possible. Most nights though, she loves to just cut on her favorite slow music grab a book and lose herself in it. Its her second favorite relaxation method. F = first date (what was it like?)

Fucking extravagant. Who would've thought carol was such a romantic. There were candles everywhere, soft music playing and an empty restaurant just for the two of you. You spent the entire evening having your every desire filled and it couldn't get any better than that.

G = giggle (what is their laugh like? What makes them laugh?)

Im- We all know, and if you don't I'm so sorry. With her stature and build you would think her giggle is dominant and deep, but no no. It's light, airy and makes your stomach do flips. It's adorable and you love to watch her eyes scrunch up when she does it. H = hugs (do they like hug? What kind of hugs do the give?)

Carol has the absolute best hugs. She's tall so naturally her arms go for the middle, and they're long so she's able to wrap them alllllll the way around and pull you in. She squeezes firm but not hard enough to make you lose your breath. Her eyes always close a little bit to savor the moment as she rests her head on top of yours. And She always smells like apples and vanilla so it makes the experience that much better. I = instrument (do they play an instrument?)

She loves the piano. The soft, serene music it makes is a sharp contrast to what she's usually used to: chaos, chaos, chaos. So she's delighted to let herself go in something so...grounding. J = joy (what brings them joy in life?)

You, Maria, Monica and Of course goose are her favorite people. She prides herself on human interactions with the ones she loves, so being around you guys makes her the happiest. Fighting to protect you all is great, but that means nothing if she doesn't have a bond with the ones she is protecting, you know? K = kisses (what kind of kisser are they? Shy? Passionate?)

You know….Carol is a certified #top but I think her kisses would be so soft and gentle most of time. She’d grab you by your face and start with your nose and cheeks, before placing the softest of kisses on your lips. It's so soft it tickles, making you and in turn her always laugh.

There are those occasions after a near-death mission or event where softness is not the needed medium. In those cases, passion is everything. Actions speak louder than words, and she’ll make sure that she speaks clearly.

L = love (how do they act when they have a crush)

When Carol Danvers wants something, she makes sure everyone knows it. She never missed an opportunity to compliment or flirt with you. She regularly invaded your personal space with hugs, cheek kisses and high five. Whenever someone would try to make advances on you, all she had to do was make her first glow a little bit and boom.

And it wasn't just her trying to make sure no one made a move on you. She would consistently dodge everyone else who tries to slide on her. If it wasn't you, then she didn't want them.

M = memory (what’s their favourite memory?)

Oddly enough, the night in the bar she'd spent with Maria. It was after a really long day training, and they decided to let off some steam. After getting more drunk than what medical professionals recommend, they had spent all night singing karaoke. They didn't get a single word or melody right, but who cares?

N = no (what is their pet peeve?)

The three i’s: Intolerance, Ignorance, Insolence. She absolutely cannot stand (ironically enough) people who have no respect for others. In the air force, she has been treated way less than everyone else just because she had a vagina. And Maria had it worse than her, just because she was black and had a vagina. They both got shit for liking women. The skrulls has their entire planet and families destroyed, just because the Kree people thought they were better than them. She couldn't ever wrap her head around people like that, but she could blast them into a new galaxy :)

O = occupation (what’s their dream job?)

Serving her country. But since she has too much power to be just doing that, she wants to serve, protect and restore the entire universe. She wants to shield everyone from harm and avenge the death of everyone Thanos took from them. (See what I did there?)

P = parent (what kind of parent would they be?)

Oh, Carol would most definitely be the parent who's their kids best friend. She knows how to get down with the best of them, and her children are no exception. Can you imagine what it would be like having a mini carol blasting around the house? All the little (and big) things they would get into? My, Oh, My. Q = questions (do they believe in the super natural? Aliens? Anything along those lines)

What do you think? R = romantic (are they romantic during the relationship?)

Carol puts romanticism to shame. If she isn't constantly sweeping you off your feet,  whether literally or figuratively, then she's doing something wrong.

Flowers and foods from different planets. Vacations to different galaxies. Never having to make breakfast or drive ever again. Long soliloquies when she can't wait to see after a long mission. Never having to go a day without her after they defeat Thanos. Sometimes they can get overwhelming,  but you know she's coming from a place of love.

S = smile (what makes them smile without fail)

Happy you, happy maria, happy Monica,  happy goose, happy life, happy universe, Happy Carol.

T = together (how clingy are they? How long do you two spend together per day on average)

Because of her current task of trying to fix the universe, she doesn't see you nearly as much as she would like to. But when she is without dont expect to be able to shake her off, not that you'd ever want to. She would be all over you with kisses, hugs, cuddles, sex and love. She had to get as much of you as she could before she had to leave again.

U = unbearable (what habit do they have that’s unbearable? What habit do you have that they find unbearable)

You hate to be the kind of s/o where they say they’re absolutely perfect...but Carol is absolutely perfect. There isn’t anything wrong with her. You could ask for anyone better. V = videos (do they take lots of videos or photos during your relationship?)

Surprisingly, yes. Obviously she's not from this era, being born in the 60s and on other planets for the past 15 years. Her first time seeing a cell phone was one thing, but seeing her face on one in real time, doing what she was doing was a different breed. Once you taught her how to use the camera as well as social media (“so you're telling me that I can see what someone else is doing on the other side of the world?) all she could do was document her life. Her life that consisted mainly of you, Monica and Maria was all over snapchat, Instagram and Facebook. It was the small things she chose to record and photograph. The things that were important but not big enough to where she can automatically recall. She chose to record things that she wouldn't even think of on a regular basis, things that would jog her memory and make her smile. Because who knows? Maybe someone else can come along and take her memory again. Or read her thoughts. She needs something that can make her remember.

W = wedding (what was the wedding like?)

Everything the both of you could ever ask for. It was outdoors, both your families (avengers, skrulls, flerkens, the usual) were there. You both work pristine beautiful dresses that had everyone in awe. There wasn't a dry eye in the courtyard as you two were pronounced wife and wife.

X = eXtra (what’s an interesting fact about them that they don’t tell anyone about?)

Psssttt. She loves country music and painting, dont tell anyone.

Y = yuck (what do they hate? Could be a food, sent, word anything)

Besides those special type of people, carol absolutely despises the summer. You would think, living in California, she'd be used to it but no. She hated the sticky sweat and the humid air. Winter was the summer for her. Z = zzzz (how heavy of a sleeper are they? How do they sleep? What mood do they wake up in? Really any sleeping headcanons)

Carol sleeps like she's heavily, heavily sedated. It's quite remarkable, you think. She usually sleeps on her back, or side but she's always attaches to you. Whether you're on her chest or she's facing you with your arms around each other.

Now, I've seen sooooo many people say that Carol is a morning person, but I have to disagree. Do you really think she's gonna do all that work, sleep that hard and wake up chipper? I think not! She does everything in her power to stay asleep, you are not going to object, you hate the mornings too.

It's always a game to see who can sleep in the longest. Spoiler alert: Carol usually wins.

[datarevived]

  -- Ⅲ : ʙᴇx

It had been three days since she arrived at the Tower. 

The Warlock's voice still resting in the back of the Awokens’ mind, each time in passing the crowded Bazaar with hesitation. A stealth maneuver to remain unseen, unheard -- as she made her way to and fro the Courtyard. With few hours spent upon the Tower's rooftop, the past few days had been favored to feet resting upon dirt, taking the elevator down to the City where citizens just barely outmatched the presence of other Guardians.

Something was different about the air - its' touch more sincere than the crafted winds by Ghost piloted ships. The natural state of order carried between those who only had one life to live - their smiles more forgiving, while their work expressed an exhaustion more real than those who arrived back into the Tower with battered merit. In a way, something that she terribly missed... the emptiness that once rested upon her chest, now so full of unanswered questions. 

An unapproved sense of responsibility... she didn't ask for, nor wished it.

    " Ahhh~ "

With a blinking light, the tiny Ghost reveals itself to burden - welcomed by the sunrise across wooden canopy that surrounded the state of the city and its' preparation for new defenses. In some places, a wall that was already finished, while in others - parts that refused to fall since the beginning. Both citizen and Guardian alike, a mute coexistence that seemed more flavorful than those handled upon the Tower. It felt nicer here. More trustworthy. More real.

    " Another stroll around the block? " the Ghost hums.

    " Mm, " comes the quiet response. Still having yet attuned to the permanent company of ones' own Ghost. It's reveal always something startling, yet... welcomed. Even if it had the habit to talk too much.

    " I'm surprised you haven't memorized  the place yet. To whom are we paying a visit to today? "

A subtle hint in her active route of avoiding visits... one in particular, that weighed both on she and her Ghost's fate. Three days in, and she'd hardly spoken back to Hawthorne since getting settled. Hadn't really spoken to anyone, aside from her Ghost. Let alone, returned to Ikora. How upset she'd be if she decided to avoid the woman all together, she wonders. For how long would she be able to avoid the Vanguard's stare, knowing full well they could see her light?

    " There's a tent I wanted to visit... " the Awoken says, pausing in her step within the City as she turned to her Ghost. " It smelled really good yesterday, almost like the Ramen place Hawthorne took us... but it wasn't noodles. "

    " Good as in...? " her Ghost tilts, questionable expression dotted upon its' optic.

    " I think I overheard someone use the term... ' curry '? " she ponders, lowering her gaze temporarily as she raises a hand to her chest. Violet brows furrowing in decision, her gaze then lifts to observe their surroundings and to which direction she'd remember such smells taking place. A bit further from the Tower, but still inward of the walls. " This way... I think. "

Upon gifted boots, her tracks follow in unison with several others. A frequent walkway between the markets that hung clothing from string and hand-held fruit in barrels. Ornaments that could be placed in jewelry displayed in sheered plastic cut outs, while suppliers stacked their wooden tables with revised weaponry - tweaks made to decommissioned wears. Trade made in other wears, or glimmer, or cheap pieces of gold from the Golden Age - the nostalgia to some older than several Wars and counting. 

It wasn't until she by-passed the quiet corner of the market did the scent catch her nose in a hook -- its' flavor not yet rested in the air, but brewing still. The tent which had previously been opened yesterday to her knowledge, tied shut with a little white parchment resting upon knotted string. 

Closed.

    " I think we've shown up a bit too early, " her Ghost whirls, scanning the paper for confirmation before hovering back to the Awoken's side. " Maybe try again later? "

A disappointed furrow of ones' looks, the Guardian simply stands. The decision on whether to wait it out or not - she had already looped the place more than twice in the previous days. Nothing else having caught her eye in particular with the small set of glimmer she had been gifted. The only other thing on her list, the very subject she had been avoiding. They would have to go back to the Tower, and find Ikora.

    " Heeey! "

    " ...? "

    " Heeeeeeey! You there, Guardian! "

A nervous chill rings down her back at the call, the womans' attention turning briefly from which the voice came. Somewhere further up the pathway, the shade of another being waving its' hand against the sun's rays, providing merely a silhouette to detail. Two yellow optics piercing against the distorted color of ones clothes - its shape getting closer and closer as it jogged towards she and her companion.

    "  Hey!, Sorry - I, whew- - I didn't know what else to, awh man - outta shape, uh, I didn't know what else to call you to get your attention, " the person speaks, its' mouth glowing in an orangish tint per every syllable spoken. Upon proper inspection - the being wasn’t even human, but something else. Some of which she had witnessed many and above those in the Tower. The ones that were known as Exo-Units. " I uh, saw ya - standin' here, looked like you were gonna leave, " it continues, briefly crouching its knees in as hands rested upon its' kneecaps, a mechanical pant wheezing between its' speech. " This place, it opens. In uh.. Screws, Screws! What time is it? "

As on call, another flicker of light ignites to the scene. A strange looking Ghost if Selene ever did see one - its' shape much rounder than the shell upon her very own. Like a chubby side-ways cross, if the cross's edges were insanely curved. Its' colors, an assortment of teal on yellow - not the most... coordinated of schemes. A bit hard to look at, actually.

    " ɪᴛ ɪs ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ 𝟿:𝟻𝟹, " it's voice chirps. It's tone far more mechanical than any Ghost thus observed, as if running through a Golden Age computer tech. Something that was truly more machine than sentient being. Causing that of Selene and her own Ghost to exchange glances before turning back to the Exo in question.

    " Seven minutes - probably six, really - she's always out here untying the knot a minute early, " the Exo explained, waving a hand. " Stick around, promise its' worth it. I'll even - I pay your way. I pay your way, and you - ugh - you tell me about yourself. Nice chat - none the pervy stuff. Not into it -- " another wave, followed by the attempt of standing back at ones' full height, " But just a friendly, chat with a stranger. No strange stuff. Except... well... "

    " ʜᴇ ʜᴀs -- ɴ𝟶 ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs, " the strange Ghost clicks, an unintentional emphasis on the ' no ', but it seems to hurt the others' feelings all the same.

    " Auwh, come on, Screws! " the Exo cried, shaking its' head in defeat. " Why ya' gotta do that?! "

    " I uh... " Selene starts, a perplexed blink as she stared at the two, " I don't... have any friends either? So maybe we can... work somethin' out... “

    " Honestly, it seems one of you have a few screws' loose, " her Ghost retorts,  whirling between the space of the other two beings. 

    " Well, he is my missing link, " the Exo snorts, motioning towards its' Ghost. " A basket case without'm. Hence the name - eh? Eh? "

    " His... name is ' Screws '? " the Awoken squints.

    " And I'm BEX! Nice to meet'ya! " the Exo grins, jabbing a hand in greeting. An awkward pause in between before Selene reaches out to return the favor; its’ grip seemingly more eager than anticipated as she felt her head spin at the force. " One of the most handsome Exo's in town! "

    " H-Handsome --? " Selene repeats, shaking her head to cease the spinning. She offers the other an examining glance before pulling words together. What little of its’ frame she could tell... it was something between a brownish bronze with silver. " I suppose you're... not too bad to look at. “

    " You suppose?! “ comes the exclamation, another sudden look of defeat grazed upon the Exo’s features. " Y'know what, just take'm, " he pushes his Ghost, Screws, over towards her, " You'll get along g r e a t. "

   " Hey, wait a minute...! No, no! This ones' mine, " the other Ghost retaliated, its shell then zooming between Selene and the floating oddity. A violent shake, as if trying a scare tactic from the nameless, the more colorful of the two merely stays in place - indifferent to the situation at hand.

    " I don't... think I can even take someone elses' Ghost, " the Awoken speaks, the lack of confidence in her voice astute. This whole situation having got out of hand too quickly - all for the sake of trying new foods. All to be interrupted by the rattle of ones' tent prying open - revealing a human woman, seemingly mid aged with a apron around her waist.

    " I thought that was you who was causin' a ruckus, " she sighs, shaking her head towards the Exo. " You harrassin' this poor girl? You drivin' out my business. "

    " No -- I'm increasing business, " Bex corrected, raising a single digit in accusation before walking over and assisting in the ties of the tent doors. " She was here before I was, anyway. About to walk away, too, if it wasn't for me. "

    " I... well, yes... " Selene nods, her expression blank. " He's... also offered to pay my way. So I'll have the most expensive dish you have. "

    " Hear that Chef? The most expens-- hey, wait a dang minute! That's not how to treat someone! " he turns his head mid sentence, another wail coming from his sensors. The Awoken in standing offering a small giggle in the sense - waving a hand of her own, " It's a joke, a joke... "

    " Consider me feeling generous today, " the human woman scoffed, tying off the last string to reveal the few stools at a bar. " Ye' both can have whatever you want on the house. But you better bring back some new friends with wallets I can tamper in, " she turns toward Bex, a stoic scowl drift upon her face as she walked toward the back of the tent. A double unit, by the looks - half of its' width hidden behind another layer of fabric - the sounds of stirring pots and pans to be heard.

    " Heard..." the Exo sighed, raising a hand behind his head in a scratch before looking back over toward his newly acquainted ' friend '. " Well? The waits' over, what're you standin' for? "

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    " Ah new Lihght? Dat's always fuhn," the Exo quirked a mechanical brow, still managing through a tuff of meat as he chewed. " I rehember when I firs woke up. "

    " You do? " Selene questioned, having taken a break from her bowl. A quarter remains of curry sitting beneath spoons' edge as arms folded themselves across the countertop.

    " Yeh - well, kinda, " Bex started, trying his damnest to finish the meal in tow before continuing. " As an Exo, kinda got a jail outta free card if you catch my drift. Went through the process of turnin' flesh to metal, body didn't wanna cooperate, failed transfer, yadda yadda, " he waves a hand, fingers wiggling at the thought. " I was suppose to have been dead, then and there. No flesh, no metal, no nada. But apparently - and this was news to everyone at that point, that the Traveler - handy dandy up there in the sky, can chose to bring back even the failed chaps' from Clovis's basement. Without the stinky rotting smell. "

    " So you... died, trying to become an Exo, and then was brought back as... an Exo...? "

    " Crazy, right? "

    "  But how did you... do you... I can't remember anything before hand, " Selene spoke, a tint of confusion in her voice. " How was it that you were able to remember something even before the Traveler.. "

    " On-file documents. Somethin' the big ball didn't take into consideration, really. Kinda like a taboo, " Bex answered. Finishing the remains of his meal in a gulp, he exhaled a content burp before turning in his seat toward the woman. A shrug of shoulders as he clasps fingers together in a hutched position. " S'why Screws sounds a little funny, actually. Apparently the computers didn't approve of me tamperin' with the tech of where I woke up. Managed to get my stuff, but, other things - either already removed or too corrupted to tell. "

    " The computer attacked your Ghost? "

    " Not the computer, but the computer, yes. "

    " I... sure, " Selene gave a single nod, knowing all too well that more questions would just send her further down the hole of insanity with this one. Perhaps she judged too soon of her own Ghost, it and its' chatty habits.

    " I know you just said ye' don't know 'bout the past, but, what about you? What are you doing now? Have you been to the Tower? " the Exo then asks, tilting its head some. " They set ya' with a team? "

A team?

Right...

Hawthorne had briefly mentioned it when she was getting settled in. Fireteams -- groups that worked in favor of the Vanguard, doing patrol chores or strikes in high concentrated areas. Consisting from any combination of front line, be it Titan, Warlock or Hunters.

    " I... I've been there, yeah. Met... Ikora? "

    " Another Warlock? I'm a Warlock! " Bex grinned excitedly, quickly unraveling fingertips as he threw both hands in the air. " Not lucky enough to get under Ikora's perch, no no, but, a mentor all the same! "

    " N-Not a Warlock, " Selene corrected, raising a small hand to settle the others' glee, “ Just, she's the only one I've talked to so far. Just, about... normal stuff... "

    " Oh? Oh -- well, I mean, that's okay too. Gotta, figure out just what sorta tricks ye' got up yourself, y'know, " the Exo says, bringing back his hands into little light punching motions, the movement briefly twisting his stool to and back. 

" Yeh know, betcha' a Hunter. You look it. Bet you got the skills for it too. "

    " A Hunter, huh? "

    " Oh, totally. Slim build, poker face, betcha' good with a dagger. We're already at like three check marks outta somethin' else. "

Tilting her head in curiosity, Selene returns the words with a shorten smile. The thought of being on the front lines still terrifying at the thought... but more along the lines of ones' confidence in her. Someone else who could see something she couldn't. Could he be trusted?

    " That reminds me... I should probably get going, " the Awoken stirs, staring upon ones' reflection against the porcelain of the bowl before bringing her eyes back to height with yellow optics. " Thank you, for the meal. "

   " No problem! " Bex offered another grin, hopping off his seat and extending a hand in assist. " Thank you for the company! S'really made my day. "

Despite having been tall enough to touch the ground from her seat, the Awoken accepts the temporary assistance in twisting out of her chair. The cooling touch of the Exo's frame unfamiliar to her as the two walk outside the tent. Chilling, yet... gentle.

    " Y'know... if you're ever up in the Tower, " she starts, offering the Exo a glance before departing. " I'm... not a hard person to find. And if we're friends now, then... it means we can hang out again, right? "

   " So you're admitting that we're totally friends? " Bex confirmed, brows raising upward in a suave manner.

    " I'm saying that it wouldn't hurt to have someone else to hang out with, " she scoffs, albeit while wearing a smile. The sudden twinkle of light igniting ones' Ghost back to view, the pallid texture of the Traveler twisting in offense. " Well, that wasn't very nice to say! You do know I hear nearly everything you say, right? That this is how this relationship is going to go? "

    " What, you don't want more friends either? " she coos, cocking an eyebrow in teasing notion as she extends a finger in poke toward the Ghost. " We got a long ride, might as well make friends along the way, right? "

The Ghost hovered in the air, spinning its' optic back toward the Exo then back to its' original Guardian. An audible huff coming from its' speaker before dissipating back into the wind. Another chuckle is pardoned under Selene’s breath before turning eyes back towards Bex. The Exo remaining stand-still with unblinking features as if absent for words.

    " I'll see you some day in the Tower, yeah? " Selene asks.

    " If I don't see you back here first, " Bex smiled, motioning a thumb over his shoulder toward the tent. " There's still two whole meals you gotta try! "

[darknytemare]

Into the Twisted Depths [A VIXX Parallel Colloboration]

Pairing: Hongbin (Lee Hongbin) [VIXX] x Female OC

VoodooDoll!AU 

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: fantasy, mythology, horror, dirty-ish/implied/maybe smut

Warnings: Blood, voodoo ritual mentions, gore mentions, pain/sensation ‘play’ mentions

Summary: At a time where the number of Voodoo Dolls is representative of one's power. Hongbin is the 6th Voodoo Doll conjured by a young priestess. He was sent by a powerful deity to keep watch over her. That’s fine until he decides he wants her power.. and her whole existence for himself.    

Note: loa/lwa - the name for the patron spirits/deities of voodoo

Baron Samedi- The loa of the dead [think similar to Hades]

Ayan LaRoche - Voodoo Priestess OC

Ayan was born and raised in the bayou of Louisiana. The dialogue will reflect some 'twang' and spatterings of Creole dialect.

Even though this is for the VIXX Parallel Collaboration, I may continue this as a series. 

What rotten luck was this?!

Hongbin grunted as life, or something like it, suffused into his body. He could feel the ligaments moving as his fingers wiggled in the air. The disdain on his face at the sight of himself was hard to hide. He wobbled like a puppet on a string dangling from a great height.

The substance that ran through his veins slowed as he heard the echo of footsteps. His lip stayed lifted in a half snarl. The guttural sound vibrated against his vocal cords. The push of tension caused his biceps to flex, almost violently, against his shirt.

That was until he saw who was walking toward him.

The shadow of a tophat, the scent of a cigar, and the pasty white painted skull over a brown-skinned face.

He wanted to disappear; to become so small and insignificant that he could forget the sight in front of him.

Every every poppet knew for whom and what purpose they had been created. It was rare that one of the loa bothered. Let alone the Lord of the Dead himself.

"Ah, I see you awake now." The loa smirked at Hongbin's sudden shrink in attitude and demeanor. "Dat's good, dat's good. Nah, I know you might be havin' a question or two 'bout why you here." There was a thick cloud of smoke that lifted from the deity's nostrils.

The smile on Baron Samedi's face gave Hongbin a cold chill. "I need you do sumthin' fah me." The taller man tugged at the bindings holding the voodoo doll aloft.

"I need you to keep an eye on someone fa' me. You see, dis girl? She special. I like her. She gotta lot of learnin' for she can be a power to be reckoned with." Baron Samedi stopped to level a dark umber gaze on Hongbin.

"You need'ta keep the unsavory 'way from her, ya'hear?" The sudden baritone of the deity's voice caused Hongbin's knees to buckle. The overwhelming power filled the room, leaving him only able to nod with wide eyes.

"Good, good. No one gets near her, Hongbin. Do we understand each otha'?" Hongbin nodded vigorously as he swallowed the lump in his throat. The loa smirked while picking an object from a nearby table. He turned toward the dangling puppet with a particular glee dancing in his eyes.

He knew what was coming before Baron Samedi reached him. He could see the sharply jagged edge on the ice pick. His lips flattened into a straight line as he steeled himself for the onslaught.

The pain never bothered him at first. The first initial puncture, scratch, or gouge was nothing at this point. It was the speed of delivery that always killed him. Some of the priests or priestesses were quick with their work. It prevented the pain from building in the doll.

It always made it easier to cause the maximum amount of pain to their intended victim.

But some caused pain to the doll and the victim. They said it was probably as close to watching the deed from far away. It wasn't that way with the loa, unfortunately.

They gave pain, relished in the suffering, and needed the experimentation to learn about humanity.

Samedi was twisted, perverted, and sadistic. This was nothing more than entertainment for him. This was also an early lesson. That he wanted what he wanted.

.....and that he wouldn't accept failure.

Others.

There were never others.

At least not in his time in service, had he seen others. Hongbin heard about those that had been able to conjure more than one doll. There was a time, long ago, when someone had three. That woman was descended from a strong line - the first line. She was a descendant of the one who started everything that would be Voodoo. That woman had children but then moved to Haiti.

Removing herself and her kin from Louisiana due to the state that the art had devolved. It was considered hoodoo, entertainment, and a child's play. That woman returned sometime later with her children in tow.

She had risen in her craft to take on the title of Mambo. The highest and most important places a person can reach. Her children were exceptional, as well. A son, musically gifted, and in tune with nature. A daughter with a wicked streak and a penchant for darker dealings.

He only knew of the woman by one name - The Black Mamba. To the public, though, she was Mambo LaRoche. A formidable woman of high power who understood the balance between the light and dark elements of the craft.

The community was devastated when Hurricane Katrina stole her away from them.

It stole all but one. 

“Wake up.” A lilting purr slithered across the shell of his ear. Hongbin stirred with the sensation of cold metal against his back. The air was thick with incense, blood, and magic. An echo of laughter, drums, and the rush of power caused his heart to beat fast. 

“Come on now. You can do it.” There was the scent of lilies in the air, causing his head to sway in its direction. A delicate finger trailed down the center of his bare chest. He twitched as the finger trailed a muscle at the dip in his groin.

His lips parted on a soft moan. Samedi beat him until he lost consciousness, only for him to wake up to this? He could feel lips soft along his jaw. She spoke to him in a language once thought long dead. It was so beautiful, it seemed to dance across his skin. 

The scent of blood filled his nostrils, his mouth watered, his body reacted violently. His eyes snapped open as a shadow hovered over him. "Blue." He murmured absently. Her eyes were so blue. Crystalline. Icy. The adjective to classify them was out of his reach. He just realized as the moon spilled light upon them both - he'd never seen a blue like it.

"Well, well. Look who decided to finally wake up." Her lips curved into a smile as she tucked her fingers under her chin. "Th'names Ayan. Ayan LaRoche, enchanté ." 

The blue-eyed Creole stood, as regal as queen, with her hands clasped in front of her. The heavy pressure seemed to evaporate at that moment. Hongbin could feel beads of sweat sliding down the sides of his face.

A thick swallow as she crouched above him. The whisper of thin linen against his skin caused him to moan. He could see the moonlit silhouette of her body through the gauzy material. The uptick of her breast and the prominent push of her nipples. She brought his hands to the wide expanse of her hips. 

Arousal. 

Instant. Obvious. Painful.

He could feel the power radiating off her skin. The surge of it pulsed under his fingertips. The warm slide of her fingers against the throb of his erection caused him to moan. His fingers dug deep into her flesh as she settled over him. Every vein in his body seemed prominent as she swiveled her hips. 

Bloodied hands pressed against his chest as she moved, chanting. The moonlight seemed to spotlight the sealing ritual. Her feet dug into the ground as her voice crescendoed. Hongbin remembered, suddenly, a warning. He remembered the threat beaten into his flesh. 

But as her body tugged and molded around him? He forgot about it. He forgot all of it. She connected to a wealth of power long left untouched within him. He could feel her peel back the layers of his spiritual reserves. Their bodies and spirits thumped against each other, seemingly to no end. 

Before he knew it? He had rolled them, anchoring her upper half to the ground. She let out a shrill sound that made his stomach knot. He didn’t care about the gore covering her fingers. He kept chasing the link, the thing that sealed Doll to Practitioner.  “R-right...there.” She gasped. The warm honey of her voice vibrated in the air as he held her hips upward. Her eyes rolled back into her skull as she dissolved into orgasm. He tilted his head as he met the pure white, then suddenly golden tone in her eyes. 

His brow furrowed as her body seemed to pull all of him inside of her. He lurched as his own orgasm gave chase. 

Hongbin felt it at that moment - there was no bottom. She had reached all the way inside of him, farther than anyone before. Yet, he couldn’t find her. Like there was no end to her.

"Welcome to the family, sug'." Her voice was like warm honey. Rich, silky, and sweet - strangely no different from her singing to her speaking. Ayan's gaze lifted toward the face of her newest doll.

Six.

There were never others.

The most that there had ever been was three.

He was now one of six.

Samedi, what have you gotten me into? Who is this woman?

Everything seemed to get warmer, fuzzy - the air was so sweet? He wavered as he looked down at the woman smiling up at him. But it was a different voice that he heard. 

"You need to wake up, little brother." A soothing, melodic voice chided. The night seemed to fizzle away as the voice continued, beckoned him to wake up. 

Wait a minute?

Wake up?

Didn't he do that already?

"Time to wake up, little brother." Hakyeon's voice was so damned soothing.

"What happened? I - I was up already?" The confusion was thick in his voice. His mouth was so dry as if he hadn't spoken more than a few days.

"Shhh." Hakyeon placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You'll get sick if you're not careful." Hongbin shrugged him off with a growl.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine! There's no way that I could get -" He was too panicked to notice it at first. He had been so busy trying to find the wounds that plagued him not too long ago. The burning sensation crept along the surface of his skin.

From the feet to his knees, he thought it was just from movement. From his knees to his hips, he felt it was his body finally moving. The sensation crept up his torso, to his neck, and then it was behind his eyes.

Then it filled his head as the sound of a scream filled his ears. Oh, it was his scream. It had been a while since he had made a sound like this. The power overwhelmed him as he clawed at his skull.

The connection. The link. The establishment of the thread that binds the voodoo doll to its owner. It washed over him like a tidal wave. He saw visions, clipped projections of memories from the other five. Hakyeon sighed slowly, waiting for Hongbin to calm himself down.

It took him five minutes to regain his composure - it never took that long. He turned to the side and was violently sick when it was over.

"Good, she's ready for you now." The older doll smiled, pleased even, as he turned to depart. "There are fresh clothes in the bathroom. Make yourself presentable and then take the path to the house. Don't keep her waiting."

He moved from the bed in a rush to the bathroom. They may have been 'dolls' in a sense, but their forms still required the typical maintenance. Bathing was essential and enjoyable - a luxury even.

The hot water over his skin eased the tension from his muscles. He rotated his joints under the hot spray. He would have to ask how long he was asleep. He grits his teeth as he hurriedly washed and dressed.

He had already kept her waiting. "Tsk." Hongbin was dressed in a sweater, slacks, and shoes too shiny to have ever seen a speck of dirt. He admired his reflection in the mirror before leaving their space.

There was a path of carefully laid gravel. The crunch of his shoes on the ground was the only noise in the area. The moon was full, bright, and beautiful in the Louisiana sky. He spotted a set of double French doors open wide toward a parlor decorated in ornate Victorian style.

His steps were quiet as he entered the parlor. His fingers were a whisper over the costly, ornate wooden backs of couches and chairs. He heard the sound of singing? Or was it humming? It was close.

He felt his heart quicken as he entered the open space of the dining room. His brow furrowed as he followed the song through the house. The click of his heels against an old hardwood floor almost tapped in time with the voice. He was panting and didn't understand why.

This home was ridiculously large for no reason! Where was that sound?! By the time he realized he was on the other side of the house. Another set of french doors opened toward the courtyard that dazzled with white roses. He stood in the doorway; his eyes pinned to the back of an ornate wingback chair.

The voice stopped, suddenly, as his footsteps announced his presence.

Laughter. A throaty, warm, laugh that sent prickles across his skin. He saw the delicate shine of polish on her fingers. He was almost afraid to get a full look at her.

"Come closer, suga'." He did as he was instructed. He moved in front of the shadowed space. The clouds began to break as he noticed an odd gleam coming from her face.

"Blue." He murmured absently. Her eyes were so blue. Crystalline. Icy. The adjective to classify them was out of his reach. He just realized as the moon spilled light upon them both - he'd never seen a blue like it.

A long, massive, moment of silence stretched for what seemed an eternity between them. Hongbin still had her hand in his own, the delicate knuckle adorned with crystal-studded rings.

His grip tightened, a reflex, as he couldn't keep himself quiet. "You're the most powerful witch in all of Louisiana."

She tilted her head with an amused smile as his lips brushed against her knuckles. There was a sudden pull in her lower half that caused breath to slither from her mouth. 

Hongbin’s gaze rose to hers as the corner of his mouth lifted. 

And she would be his, easily.

[artificialqueens]

How Far I'll Go Chapter 5 (Ninex) - Mia Ugly, Meggie

A/N:   Previously: Nina and Cracker resolved their tension, though Cracker appears to know more than she’s letting on. The queens were grouped in threes to recreate some classic sapphic films, and Nina isn’t feeling great about his team’s performance. Meanwhile, Monet helps Nina calm his nerves.

To come: the runway, the reckoning, a flashback. And a musical number. Of course.

(Thank you to everyone who has been reading/commenting on this. Your enthusiasm is means more than we can say, and we’re so grateful.)

Here is the link for the song in this chapter, in case you want to sing along at home!

Chapter 5: I bet you’ve got secrets too

Nina wakes up and is still on Drag Race. 

(Will the same thing be true tomorrow morning? Don’t think about that right now.)

He showers, gets dressed, heads down to breakfast. As he’s waiting for the elevator he tries not to fidget too much, not to start biting his nails or tugging at the buttons on his cuff.  He’s already vibrating with anxiety and the day hasn’t even started yet. Breathe, girl (but then that just makes him think about Monét, their shared breath yesterday in the Werk Room, the warmth of Monét’s hands against his. In, out. Goddamn if Nina isn’t going to remember Monét’s voice all low and calm like that, or their eyes locked together, for maybe probably the rest of his life).

The elevator dings as it opens, and - Jesus Christ.

This time Nina recognizes the gasping couple immediately.

“What—and I cannot stress this enough—the fuck, you guys?”

Brooke and Vanjie immediately pull away from each other. Nina turns his back. He doesn’t want to see them, doesn’t need to have this conversation. If either of them think that he’s going to spend the rest of the day talking them down from whatever lovelorn panic spiral they end up in, well - they’re wrong.  That’s what they are.

So much for “it won’t happen again” and “we’re done” and all of that. Nina should’ve known better. He’s heard the speech from both of them before, after all, and look where it’s left them. (Not to belabour a point, but it’s left them here, on All Stars, making out in elevators and then pretending that anyone is fooled.)

When he gets to the conference room, the mentors have already left. Nina - tries not to feel too disappointed. It just means he probably won’t see Monét until tonight on the runway (even then, it will only be from a distance.)

Maybe that’s for the best. Nina could use a bit of distance. 

After that dream last night, Monét’s been in his head all morning, and Nina’s got to be stronger than this (put it aside, right? Give it up, throw it away. Do something else with these feelings, anything except - feel them).

He sits with Asia for breakfast, ignoring Brooke and Vanjie as they go off to separate corners of the room, neither of them speaking to each other (both of them avoiding eye contact with Nina. Thank God for that).

“I think we were okay,” Asia tells him about her scene. “Like, we got it the hell together. But those two…” She raises an eyebrow, no more clarification needed. “They gotta figure out their shit. They still fucking?”

“I - have no idea.” Nina likes Asia, trusts her, but - he really doesn’t know how to answer that question. Given the situation in the elevator this morning. And yesterday morning. And - you know, probably most mornings (nights, afternoons) since they damn well broke up.

“Did you know Trixie’s man split with her?” Asia asks the question like she’s asking Nina if he knows what the weather’s going to be like. “Vanjie told me. I guess Miss Mattel was all up in her feelings yesterday.”

“Really?” Nina’s genuinely surprised. From the vibes that Trixie gave off on social media, he thought her boyfriend was kind of a - sure thing.  Jesus, what was his name? Well, Nina knew at one point, and Trixie had been writing songs about him and - it’s all unexpected. Though of course Nina doesn’t know her as a person at all, really. Just knows her as Trixie Mattel, All Star and business mogul and celebrity shit-talker. 

“The tea is that it’s because of some pics with Katya, you know.”

“I… don’t.”

“Like romantic photos. Nothing - I’m not talking dick pics, honey. Just some shit from a show or something, you know how they are. All touchy, cuddly. Anyway, I don’t have the details or anything. Just what Miss Vanjie was spilling.” 

Nina thinks back to Trixie Mattel’s awkwardness from their time on set yesterday. The way she flinched when they brought up Katya. Jesus - no, no. He’s not going to take on anyone else’s drama right now. Ru Paul’s Best Friends Race? More like Ru Paul’s Messy High School Soap Opera.

Nina’s shaky and anxious for most of the day, despite his best efforts.  He tries to keep a brave face on, tries to convince himself he’s got nothing to worry about. His Lavender Menace runway look is one of his favourites: a super-cinched mermaid silhouette that drips with pale purple beads and holographic paillettes.  He feels like a futuristic Barbra Streisand in “Hello Dolly!” and can’t wait for the judges to see it.

He and Brooke paint next to each other at the mirror, a bit quieter than usual (Nina is not going to ask, is not going to give in to the Branjie drama du jour.) There’s always been a calm that surrounds Nina while he paints so he relaxes into it. He knows this part, understands it, trusts his hands with the brushes even if he doesn’t completely trust his body on the runway (or trust his sisters with their votes). He relies on muscle memory and an arsenal of information gleaned from the countless queens with whom he’s worked over the years. Makeup he’s confident in. Makeup is what he can put his hands all over and make his own. If he has nothing else, he has his face (and fully made up, with the right shade of lipstick and just the right wig, Nina feels almost pretty. Close enough that with a couple drinks in, you might not know the difference).

Today he’s chosen a deep plum eye flecked with holographic glitter. It’s a lot, it’s over the top, it’s very Nina West, which is exactly what he’s here to show them. Too much of himself got lost in Season 11 and that can’t - won’t- happen again. His glitter might exactly match the paillettes on his dress. He might have planned that. His purple eyeshadow might also match Monét’s purple lipstick from the finale night (that, he didn’t plan. Honest.) 

After he makes the connection, though, it’s almost all he can think about, which is not a good thing. He should be focusing on the competition. On turning it out on this runway. On trying to ignore the feeling that it could be his last one. 

A couple of innocuous conversations about the “inner saboteur” happen while they’re all painting together, but the producers are looking for that hook, so - of course it’s only a matter of time before they convince someone (in this case Ivy, who probably didn’t realize it was a trap) to ask the inevitable question.

“Brooke and Vanjie. What was it like being on the same team again? Like playing a couple after - you know, everything?”

Nina stiffens, knows that this question is going to fuck with Brooke and Vanjie’s heads. The two of them look over at each other and then away, before Nina forces himself to focus on his own reflection in the mirror. He packs more plum eyeshadow on his brush, taps it carefully on his eyelid, pretends he isn’t listening. (Of course he’s listening. They’re all listening.)

“It’s fine, girl,” Vanjie says, trying desperately to sound nonchalant. “Makes it more realistic, don’t it? Plus that shit is ancient history. Like, back when there were dinosaurs and shit.”

“Is it awkward though?” Shea asks. “Being on the same season again?”

“No,” Brooke says a beat too late, a note too high. Nina winces at the sound, then hopes that none of the cameras caught that. The last thing he wants to do in his talking-head tonight is answer questions about Branjie. “I mean, we stayed friends, stayed really close—” 

“Oh yeah, real close.” Vanessa snorts, runs his tongue across his teeth, stares down at the bottle of foundation on his table. The Werk Room falls silent. Brooke’s hand pauses, mascara wand poised above his right eye, waiting for the bomb to drop, waiting for Vanessa’s next move. 

Nina’s waiting too.

But Vanjie just releases a deep breath and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, we cool. We did what we did in the scene, now we just gotta wait. But baby, it’s gonna be all fine.”

* * *

It’s anything but all fine, as it turns out. 

The runway is one thing. Clearly Brooke looks gorgeous in purple (Nina isn’t blind). Vanjie goes unexpectedly high-fashion in an asymmetrical gown patterned with lilacs, lilacs also forming a crown atop her white-blonde wig—a May Queen, a Midsummer Night’s dream. Nina feels like a bag of money in his dress, and if he searches for Monét’s approving gaze from the audience, well - it doesn’t have to mean anything.  It doesn’t mean anything. Nina uses this ache for fuel, stomps the runway like maybe, maybe, maybe he’s winning Monét over. Like he’s cool and sexy and mysterious, like he could be the kind of person someone like Monét would fall for. 

He lets that fantasy carry him as he flirts with the judges, spins at centre stage, and leaves the runway walking on air (he’s done what he can, let’s hope it’s enough).

When they’re all called back to watch the films and listen to the judges’ critiques, Nina’s fantasy starts to fade. 

Shea, Nina Bo’nina, and Ivy slay (as Nina completely expected). The three of them look gorgeous (Shea’s purple dress has a bustle and train that nearly stretches the length of the runway, it’s dramatic as hell and the judges are living). Their scene is weird and glamorous and perfect: Shea as Carol, Ivy as Therese, and Nina Bo’nina as the surprise jealous ex-girlfriend have Ru almost crying with laughter. There’s no doubt that they’re going to be in the top tonight - or at least two of them will.

Brooke and Vanjie, well… Being bad at acting is one thing, but Nina can’t for the life of him figure out how they’re so bad at playing a couple when they’ve literally been doing it since their break up last fall. If only Aileen Wuornos had an Instagram, Nina thinks bitterly, they’d be fucking set. 

The looks are on point, and Asia is a lone bright star as an evil police officer, but Brooke and Vanjie are kind of a mess. Nina doesn’t know how to feel about it—it’s hard to feel anything when he’s still waiting for his own scene to play.

And then it does.

Blair reaches over and takes hold of Nina’s hand as the clip rolls, and it is - not great.

Not awful - but definitely not great.

Nina gets a couple good laughs, and Cracker looks the part, but Michelle was right - they are stiff, and they don’t look like they’re having fun. Blair in particular looks terrified on-screen (and Nina can feel Blair’s hand tightening against his as the scene unfolds).

When it ends, Nina tries to smile graciously but he knows it falls flat. On the other side of Blair, Cracker stares down at the runway.

Ross claps enthusiastically, but Ru and Michelle applaud more out of polite tradition. And that’s when Nina knows that they’re fucked. 

“Ladies,” Ru says after a short deliberation break where Nina desperately tries to hold Blair together without falling apart himself. “What an - interesting approach to this week’s challenge. Here’s some advice: stop letting personal matters get in the way of your success.” 

Nina gulps. 

“That said, let’s move on to the judges’ critiques.”

They love Shea (of course). Ivy’s dress isn’t their favorite silhouette, but they commend her on the flawless construction and the bold use of lavender and grey plaid wrapping paper (that queen is something else). The other Nina has painted her entire body purple and green as a living, breathing representation of a lavender plant and the judges are interested if not completely sold. Either way, Nina hasn’t heard enough negative critiques to feel safe.

Brooke is next. The judges fawn over his form-fitting fully-stoned pageant gown, the pale color of the fabric accentuating the creamy undertone of his skin. Michelle especially loves that he’s wearing a deep auburn wig, says it changes his entire aesthetic and is the perfect balance to the rest of the look.

“But I see we still haven’t taken any acting classes,” she continues carefully.

Brooke purses his lips. “I actually did, I just—” He sighs. “It was a rough week for me.”

Michelle nods, narrows her eyes, and then surprisingly - drops it? She doesn’t listen to excuses from anyone,  but for some reason she doesn’t go right for Brooke’s throat this week. Nina suspects she knows exactly what (or who?) Brooke is referring to. Michelle usually does. 

Asia’s electric purple feathers are another judges’ favorite, and she’s  complimented by both Michelle and Ross for being the saving grace of an otherwise dim performance.

Nina can see Vanjie crumbling with nerves, but the smile he pastes on when Ru says his name is radiant, could light up Columbus in a pinch.  If Vanjie just knew how to channel that control into challenges - Nina forces himself to listen. 

“First of all, you look flawless. This is not your Season 10 or Season 11 Miss Vanjie. You are stepping up, girl.” Michelle smiles, and Vanjie’s face could now light the entire state of Ohio.

“But I’d like to know who made the decision that you and Brooke would play the main couple?” Ross asks.

Blackout. Vanessa’s mouth falls open. “I- We- It was a group decision.”

“We thought it made the most sense,” Brooke supplies weakly, “seeing as how we have a history.”

Michelle nods. “I get it, but it just didn’t work.” She looks at Asia. “What did you have to say about all that?”

Asia shakes her head. “I trusted my sisters. They said they could handle it and I believed them. You can’t fake the kind of chemistry that Vanjie and Brooke have. I just wish it had translated better.”

“Mmm,” Michelle agrees. “Or at all.”

“You didn’t think maybe it would be too much like art imitating life?” Ru asks, gesturing between Brooke and Vanessa, who are both looking anywhere but at each other. “Ex-lovers playing lovers? That’s…” He chuckles, but there’s little joy behind it. It’s cold, even for Ru. “That’s playing with fire, kids.” 

“I wouldn’t even have cared if it worked,” Ross says gently. “Play with all the fire you want, burn the stage down, but give us something.”

“Ross will be hearing from our union representative. Thank you ladies.”  When Ru glances over at Nina, the corners of his mouth tick upwards, but only slightly. “Nina West.”

“First of all…” Michelle kisses her fingers like a chef. “This gown? Gorgeous. Hair, perfection. You look stun-ning. But that performance, girl…” 

Nina nods. “I know.”

“Last season, every acting challenge you were high-larious. What happened?”

“There’s been a lot going on -” Stay vague, sis. Don’t be the one who throws people under the bus. You just fixed whatever was broken between you and Cracker. “I don’t think I’m settled in yet.”

“Settled in,” Michelle repeats blankly. “How many episodes of All Stars do you think you should get to settle in?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean -”

“You looked pretty settled in when you almost won last week,” Ross says.

“This is the best of the best,” Ru says, eyeing Nina. “What you brought last week was what we want, what you have on tonight is what we want, but all of you girls need to figure out whatever these personal issues are because I don’t have time for them. This is not - and I repeat, not RuPaul’s Best Friends Race.”

Nina nods. What else can he do? He tells himself not to look at Monét, not to see how he’s taking this - but Nina’s eyes immediately betray him. Monét’s perfect pink lips are pressed tight together (and, Christ, he’s even prettier than Brooke is in purple) and his hands are gripping the armrests of his folding directors’ seat.

Monét’s worried. Shit.

The judges move on to Miz Cracker, who looks like a purple technicolor acid trip of Alice in Wonderland. It’s Nina’s favorite thing on the runway, if he’s being honest.

Michelle peers over the top of her glasses. “Can you guess what I’m going to say?”

“I look damn good, but why the fuck wasn’t I funny?” Cracker deadpans. “Yeah, I don’t have an excuse. There obviously was some tension between Nina and myself, I take responsibility for that, but I apologized and we worked through it. It’s not going to be an issue anymore.” She offers her hand to Nina, who takes it and squeezes gently.

Ross shuffles his cards. “You looked amazing in the film, though. It was cast quite well.”

“Thank you. Blair and I switched roles last minute, so that’s comforting to hear.”

Ru nods, seemingly satisfied, and turns his attention to the third member of their group. “Well, I do declare!”

Blair has gone full Scarlett O’Hara realness for this runway, hoop skirt and all, and Nina and Cracker are at least five feet away from her out of necessity. The lilac taffeta falls in tiers from her fitted bodice and cinched waist. Blair’s hands are folded daintily, the white lace gloves accentuating how tiny her hands actually are. If Vivienne Leigh had a 19-inch waist, Blair’s can’t be a centimeter over 19 and a half.

Blair is smiling, but it’s porcelain, like the slightest jolt will shatter her.

“Blair St. Clair!” Ross starts with a big smile. “Is that really you in there?”

Blair does a cute little curtsy, bending as much as she possibly can in that corset.

“I love it, I love it, I love it,” Ross says. “That dress! I feel like I’m getting the vapours just looking at you, I need a fan.”

Blair—shockingly enough—has a pale violet fan hanging off her hip, almost completely hidden by ruffles. She pulls it off (“Catch!”) and tosses it toward the judges’ table while Ross claps in delight. (The fan goes pretty off course, hitting the edge of the table and ricocheting toward the ground in front of the stage. A crew member grabs it and brings it to Ross who fans himself dramatically.)

“What else is hidden in those ruffles?” Ru quips.

“A lady never tells,” Blair laughs softly.

“So yes - you look the part,” Michelle says, bringing them back on track. “But Blair. Honey. What was going on in that scene?”

The smile drains from Blair’s face.

“You showed up on set looking terrified. When I watched the scene tonight, that’s what came across the most for me. That fear.”

Blair nods. Her shoulders start to sag.

“You’re an actor. We know you can act. Do you know you can act?” Ru asks.

“Yes.” Blair doesn’t sound confident. “I just - got in my head this challenge. And then we switched roles—”

“So whose idea was that?” Ru interrupts.

Blair’s lips part. Nina has this horrible thought that Blair might say it was his idea, like an act of sabotage or something - when really, he was just trying to help. He really, really didn’t want to throw Blair off her game—

“It was mine,” Blair says. Nina exhales silently. “I thought it’d be better for the whole team, but I don’t know if it worked out that way. I think it shook me. I’m sorry.”

“You still look terrified,” Michelle says. “You’re clearly gorgeous, clearly talented. I want you to see that too, Blair.”

“I do. Or I thought I did, I guess I’ve still got some - work to do.”

“Thank you, Blair.” Ru’s voice is gentle. “Based on the judges’ critiques, I think we all know there was a clear winning team this week.” He pauses for effect, looks between them before settling his gaze on the three queens closest to the judges’ panel. “Shea Coulee, Ivy Winters, Nina Bo’nina Brown - condragulations! You are the winning team. But two of you really proved to us that Ru is the warmest colour… Shea Coulee. Ivy Winters: you are the top two All Stars of the week.”

Ivy cheers and hugs Shea, the two of them spinning briefly in place. Nina’s heart is fully in his throat, he may not be able to breathe soon.

“You’ve each won a $2,500 gift card to Wigs and Grace and a $1,000 gift card to Coolhaus Ice Cream.” Shea and Ivy embrace again, a little less excited by their ice cream prize. 

Ru continues, “Nina Bo’nina Brown, you are safe. Team Vanessa Vanjie Mateo: ladies, you are all safe.”

Blair flinches besides him, and Cracker doesn’t even blink. She was clearly steeling herself for this moment. Nina wishes he had. There was just some stupid optimistic part of his brain that couldn’t even go there, that thought they had a chance—

“That means Team Nina West: I’m sorry my dears, but all three of you will be up for elimination. Shea and Ivy: each one of you needs to decide which of the bottom queens you will eliminate if you win the lipsync.” 

Okay. Okay. It happened. Just - keep it together, don’t think about last season, don’t think about the moment they told you you weren’tgoodenoughtoSTAY—

Nina looks up briefly from his super-fun shame-spiral and catches Vanjie’s eye down the runway.  The sweet thing gives him a wince of empathy, and Nina winces back. 

“While you deliberate backstage,” Ru continues, “the judges and I will… learn macramé.”

The safe queens laugh, but Nina is wobbly on his heels, moving on autopilot to the backstage lounge. His brain doesn’t start working until he’s sitting on the couch with a cocktail in his hand, Blair and Cracker wedged beside him.

Brooke has disappeared (for a cigarette probably) and Vanjie is off somewhere talking to Asia, rolling her eyes and bobbing her head, clearly pissed off.

“Yay…” Cracker says dryly, “I blame the lesbians for this. Control your children, Brooke Lynn.” She tacks on that last part loudly, like if she yells enough, Brooke will hear her wherever he is.

“Girl, they’d probably enjoy that too much,” Shea says with a smirk, and Nina laughs (even though there is glass in his mouth). He feels mostly okay about his chances of staying. He does have a win to his name after all, and Cracker was safe last week.  But Blair… Well, she’s crying silently, furtively wiping away tears. They can all see the lipstick writing on the mirror (it might be in Blair’s handwriting).

“Do any of you—” Ivy begins, before Shea stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I’d like to talk to Ivy, actually. Other than that, I’m good. Unless any of y’all really want to - you know, make a speech or something.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. Nina has a speech running through his head, his track record on the show, his win last week - but he’s surprised by Blair shaking her head ‘no.’ Cracker looks over sharply at that, hesitates - and then shrugs.

“I can cry real tears if you need me to,” she says to Shea. “But if you’re good, I’m good.”

Both Shea and Ivy look at Nina.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “You guys are in charge.”

“Great!” Shea says and grabs Ivy’s arm before pulling her to the back of the room, where they lower their heads and begin to speak quietly. 

Blair sniffs and dabs at her eyes. “I didn’t need to talk to them. What’s the point, you know? But I would like to talk to the two of you… if… I could.” Then she’s fully crying. “I just need a minute.”

Nina puts his arm around her, pets her hair while she breathes. It’s probably a moot point; it’s still early, but they all know how this works. 

Miz Cracker sits next to Blair, lacing and unlacing her fingers, not looking at either one of them. Until she does. 

“I’m really sorry,” Cracker says, holding Nina’s gaze over Blair’s head

Nina shakes her head. “We’re good, I told you.”

“Yeah, but…” She sighs. “What Ru said about personal bullshit getting in the way… That was all me. I was angry with you when I shouldn’t have been and now we’re in the bottom—”

Blair raises her head and looks both of them over with swollen, red eyes. 

“—and it’s really my fault. And fucking Monét’s—”

Her diatribe stops and she looks wide-eyed at Nina, who is still holding Blair’s hand, rubbing soft circles through the white lace glove that adorns it.

“Can I ask you…” Nina pauses. “What, um, exactly was Monét supposed to tell me?”

Miz Cracker shakes her head, trademark blonde curls bouncing across her shoulders. “No. I’m not touching it anymore. I can’t. If that idiot has something to say to you, he’ll say it on his own time.” She decisively smooths an invisible wrinkle from the front of her purple tea-length gown and folds her hands in her lap. But Nina notices that her thumbs never stop twitching. 

“No matter what happens, I hope—” Blair clears her throat and takes in a deep breath, which she releases as a shaky sigh. 

Nina shakes his head. “Blair, you don’t—”

“Wait, wait. Just listen.”

Both Nina and Cracker shut up and look at her.

“It’s going to be me. We know that.”

“Blair—” Cracker tries again.

“I was in the bottom last week. We know. Okay? We know.” Her bottom lip trembles but she straightens her shoulders, nods decisively. “I just want to say, you were great teammates. Like really, really - nice.”

Now Nina thinks he might start crying. No. NO. Keep it together.

“And I really like working with you.” Blair smiles sweetly. “Miz Cracker, you’re so funny, and I’ve looked up to you for so long. I can’t believe I got to work with you again.”

“Blair—” Cracker starts, but her voice breaks.

“Nina, you’ve taken such good care of me this whole time.  You really looked out for my feelings, and you were so sweet.” Blair squeezes Nina’s hand. “And I just really hope everything works out for you and Monét.”

Nina chokes a bit. But so does Cracker (great, they’re more in sync now than they were during the challenge).

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh, are you two - not -” Blair blinks her eyelashes, looking at Nina in shock.

“No, nope, we’re not,” Nina says quickly. “Nothing - happening there. No ma’am.”

Blair watches him for a moment, and then narrows her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” What is even happening? Vanjie and Brooke are the bad actors, Nina is Oscar-caliber. Is he losing his touch? Or is it just where Monét is concerned (and God, wouldn’t that be a nightmare)?

“Okay. Just - I thought. You know, from this whole conversation. And the way he looks at you.”

Cracker makes another choking sound, and Blair snaps her mouth shut. 

“Never mind. I must have - gotten confused. Sorry. Forget anything I said.”

“Except for when you said how great we are,” Cracker amends, pulling Blair into a hug. “You can’t take that back. I need this.”

Nina is grateful that Cracker always seems to be able to make Blair smile, and Team Cheerleader hugs it out. Moments later, Ivy and Shea come back from whatever corner they were hiding in, each of them looking grim. Before they’re all led back onto the mainstage, Vanjie grabs Nina and squeezes his hand.

“It ain’t gonna be you, girl. Keep it on-lock, you’ll be fine.” 

The other queens have similarly encouraging things to say to Cracker and Blair, and Brooke even goes in for a hug before the crew comes to get them.  Then they’re on stage again, lights so bright they’re making Nina feel dazed.

Don’t look at the mentors, he tells himself, and this time he listens. He’s too embarrassed - can’t possibly think about meeting Monét’s eye right now. (Here I am, totally fucked and on the verge of going home. Still glad you picked me?) 

“Welcome back,” Ru says as the lights flash. “Two top All Stars stand before me. Ladies, this is your chance to impress me, win ten-thousand dollars, and earn the power to give one of the bottom queens the chop. The time has come for you to lip-sync. For. Your. Legacy.”

And for my life, Nina thinks to himself. Oh God, he should have poured his heart out to Shea and Ivy, should have told them how much he wanted this, should have—

“Good luck. And don’t fuck it up.”

The opening beats of the Eurythmics’ “Sisters Are Doin’ It for Themselves” start and Shea immediately starts ripping off the train of her dress. The queens around Nina lose their minds.  Ivy got changed into a spangly cocktail dress for the lip-sync, but Shea kept her original gown - except now it’s been turned into a sexy purple bathing suit, and she looks stunning. Nina can’t say he’s in the headspace to pay much attention to anything that’s happening on stage, but the other queens and the judges seem to be cheering with every move Shea makes. Ivy’s classy and quirky but she isn’t the dancer that Shea is.  She can’t command a stage in the same way.

Nina focuses on breathing. Focuses on not falling over. Stares at the crumpled heap of Shea’s train, purple fabric stretching down the runway, while somewhere in the background Ru cheers with delight.

This can’t be the end. Not yet. Not yet.

Nina blinks and somehow the lip-sync is already done. As the music fades, he feels Blair’s hand slide into his. He forces himself to stay present, pay attention.

“Ladies, I have made a decision,” Ru says as Ivy and Shea catch their breath, both of them looking hopeful. “Shea Coulee, you’re a winner baby. You’ve earned a cash tip of ten thousand dollars. That means that Chad Michaels - you’re also a winner. You’ve won a cash tip of five thousand dollars.”

There’s some cheering from the mentors, but Nina barely hears it over his pounding heart.

“Ivy Winters, you are safe. You may join the other girls. Will the bottom three queens please step forward?”

Nina walks forward in a daze, Blair’s hand still held tightly in his. After a moment at centre stage, Cracker reaches down and takes his other hand. 

“Shea Coulee. With great power comes great responsibility. Which queen have you chosen to get the chop?”

Shea sighs, but doesn’t draw it out more than she has to. “I love this queen and this ain’t personal.  I made this decision based on past performances, so I’m sorry, I gotta go with Blair.”

She takes Blair’s lipstick out of her neckline. Nina hears Blair take a deep breath beside her. 

“Blair St. Clair,” Ru smiles sadly, “as it is written, so it shall be done. You are and always will be an All Star. Now sashay away.”

Blair straightens her shoulders. She looks up and smiles brightly. She seems to Nina the most confident and beautiful she’s been since they first started filming.

 “Thank you so much for another opportunity to show you and the world who I am. I’m going to keep growing and getting better, and I’m going to make you so proud of me.”

Ru nods, Michelle smiles, and Ross might wipe away a tear, but Blair’s eyes are dry as she hugs Nina and Cracker, then turns and walks down the runway. 

She pauses before leaving and strikes a dramatic pose. “With God as my witness, I’ll never be eliminated from Drag Race again!”

Everyone laughs, genuinely laughs, because Blair is funny when she can relax and be herself. Nina’s hands are shaking as Cracker slides over and wraps her arms around his waist.

Safe safe safe safe safe.

“Con-drag-ulations, All Stars,” Ru says cheerfully from the judges’ panel. “And, remember: if you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else? Can I get an amen? Now let the music play!”

Nina is dancing but his heart is pounding as loudly as the music. Relief is making him dizzy and the flashing lights aren’t helping matters. Cracker hugs him again and he’s so damn grateful for that, just to have someone anchor him to the earth for a moment. He knows the mentors are probably coming up on stage, but he doesn’t see Monét in the crush of queens around him. It’s fine. It’s good. He’s in no fit state to try to impress anyone right now.

Nina’s one of the first to leave the runway, and he knows he’s got to go get changed, get ready for his talking head interview (which is going to be - let’s not kid ourselves - intense after this elimination), but he still finds the first quiet spot that he can, ducks behind one of those tall tool boxes full of set pieces or cords or something and just lets himself shake. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  He’s here, he’s here, he’s got to calm down—

“Nina? Girl, hey now—”

Nina looks up (even though he doesn’t need to, would know, has known that voice in the dark) as Monét comes closer to him, eyes full of concern. 

“I saw you tear off that stage, knew you were feeling some kinda way. And if you want to feel your feelings by yourself, if you need a minute, I get it. But listen - you’re still here. Okay? It was awful, but it’s one challenge, and you’re still here.”

Nina nods, but he can’t stop having flashbacks to Season 11, can’t stop remembering the depth of the hurt and disappointment when he was sent home. He feels like his heart is already in shards just from anticipation, and it’s hard to remind himself that it’s actually still intact. He’s still here.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry–” Nina tries to catch his breath, tries to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. This version of himself is the last thing he wants Monét to see.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Because I’m on your team, and - this challenge should have been easy for me, for us—”

“Nina West.” Monet’s got his serious face on, something Nina hasn’t seen much of yet. “This mentor shit don’t mean anything to me, okay? You think I need twenty-five K so bad? Nah, girl - with this voice? With this ass? Nah.”

Nina feels a laugh rising tightly in his chest. Monét deserves a fucking medal for trying to make him feel better.

“Don’t worry none about me. Jesus. You put this challenge behind you for yourself. You move forward and win this crown for yourself.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls.”

“I don’t.” Monét’s voice goes a bit too loud, and he stiffens as they both realize it. His eyes are on Nina’s, and Nina realizes he’s holding his breath. This - what is -

Monét exhales a weak laugh and Nina feels the ghost of it against his lips. “Shit. I mean - I’m allowed to have favourites, right?” 

It’s so sweet and ridiculous that Nina’s face breaks into a smile, and as he does he feels the slow slide of a tear down his cheek. Wonderful. Fantastic. Could he be more pathetic?

Then Monét is reaching out, wiping the tear away with the soft pad of his thumb.

“Hey, now. No crying, Jean Grey.” Monét’s voice shakes, and he doesn’t drop his hand. His fingers stroke gently along Nina’s jaw, angling his face up and into the dim light. Studying it like it’s a priceless piece of art.

Nina feels - something strange happening in his stomach. Like he might be sick. Or maybe can’t breathe? It’s tough to say, so he says nothing - just stares at Monét and tries to keep his heart beating (but at least if he drops dead now, his face will still be warm from Monet’s hands. If he dies, he’ll still have had someone look at him, just for a moment, like he was a masterpiece).

Monét’s mouth opens, and Nina’s eyes drop briefly down to his lips. His lips are something else, just - devastating. 

They should kiss, maybe.  That would be - would be okay. 

Even if Nina ruined everything after the finale, maybe - maybe Monét would still want to kiss him (Nina remembers the taste of his mouth, remembers how soft it was, how desperate it made him feel, pressing kisses against his neck, chest, hip—)

That’s when a couple of electrics coming stomping through, hauling lights.

Nina flinches. Monét drops his hand. Steps back. 

Nina tells his heart - in very strong words - not to punch its way out of his chest.

“I’m - uh - anyway. You gonna be good?”

“Sure,” Nina says, still trying to remember why breathing is important. Was that - something? Had that been something? Or was he just -

“And I’m sorry about Cracks.” Monét keeps talking, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other. “It’s kinda my fault that - she was all in her feelings.”

“Oh. Really, it’s okay, we talked it over. I think we’re cool.”

“Shit, thank God. I was worried that she was gonna be like this for the rest of the season.  Couldn’t resist the Nina West charm, right?”

“Actually –” Nina’s mind skips carefully over the ‘Nina West charm’ bit. There are some things he cannot survive. “She said this thing - you should probably know about it - I think she might be angry at you now?”  

Monét looks carefully blank. “Really.”

“She seemed - when we talked about it - upset about something you didn’t do? Or didn’t say, actually. She said she thought you were going to tell me something.”

Monét makes a soft noise from deep in his throat, like a ‘huh’ sort of sound but if you were also choking.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Doing real good.” 

Nina doesn’t need to say anything else, and he doesn’t really want to know - but he also kind of wants to know (he also still kind of wants Monét to kiss him, to touch his jaw again and lean forward and just—)

He clears his throat. Don’t think about kissing. “What were you supposed to tell me?”

“Oh, I—” Monét hesitates. Just for a second.  But Nina notices. Then Monét smiles, radiant and white (and just off enough to clock the flaw). “I have no idea. But I’m sure that bitch will have no problem sounding off at me about it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nina isn’t going to push. Not right now. 

“Well, maybe I gotta go do some damage control,” Monét says with a laugh that sounds brittle. “Congrats on making it through another episode, Nina West. Always knew you would. One step closer to that finale, right?”

“Right.” Nina forces himself to breathe, to smile, to watch Monét walk away. 

It seems to Nina that as Monét walks down the hallway, he’s almost walking to a beat. As if there’s low music playing in the background, like the strumming of some stringed instrument.  Nina can almost hear it.

“Was that a moment?” Nina murmurs to himself, and then - no.  No. Oh shit, he’s singing.

“Did we have a moment?

Was that a moment right there?

Or am I overthinking everything,

Always in my head

But that felt like a moment

With your hand on my skin.

If I could only speak

I’d ask you what it meant.”

Monét doesn’t turn around, doesn’t hear him (thank God) because Nina can’t stop the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“And I don’t know why I can’t just say what’s on my mind.

And I don’t know why I can’t just ask you what you’d like.

It seems as if we talk so much but never even speak.

And all we have are pleasantries

The hi, how are you’s, I can’t breathe

With all this silence rising like the sea.”

He stops. Takes a breath. He can still hear music.

“But that felt like a moment,

An honest moment just then

It felt like something real, maybe

A little more than friends.

Did we have a moment

When you touched me like that?

I’ll press it between pages

And then play it, play it back.

And I don’t know what you’d do if I said

How I feel.

Maybe you would laugh at me

Say none of it was real.

Or maybe you’d be kind

Oh God, the worst thing you could be

With all these little tragedies

The walls I’ve built in front of me

Are falling to the ground now

Just like leaves.”

The chords swell just like the rate of Nina’s pulse when Monét touched his face. 

“But was that a moment?

It felt like a moment to me.”

Music crashes like waves, builds like a barricade, and Nina holds his breath against the weight of it.

“Was that a moment?

Could it ever be?”

Then he pauses. What do you do in this situation, what do you say? Do you make the first move, risk your dignity? Or do you convince yourself that it’s just in your head? (He thinks and thinks and overthinks before the song continues.)

“That wasn’t a moment.

Okay, fine, we touched

But you’re like that with everyone

You’re lovely and beloved

That wasn’t a moment.

Please don’t let me fall.”

Nina breathes between his clenched teeth before he sings the final line: 

“That was nothing at all.”

The music fades out, giving Nina just enough time to wonder if he should seek professional help before Monét is walking quickly back towards him. Nina can’t move, can only stare in shock.  Monét probably didn’t - hear any of that, right? That was just another one of Nina’s weird musical fantasies that started up when he got that All Stars call (he really should probably talk to someone about that, to be honest.)

“I almost forgot,” Monét says under his breath (while Nina tries not to get too distracted by the way his lips form the words), “ and you didn’t hear this from me. But, girl, you better make sure that wig’s taped down for the next challenge.”

Nina lifts his hands to his hair - it’s fine, it hasn’t shifted at all.  

“What?”

“From what I hear, it might get snatched.” Monét winks before he walks away again, and Nina - oh.

Shit.

It’s time for the Snatch Game.

* * *

Interlude: Monét, finale night

“So like - girl. Okay. So.” 

Monét runs his hand over his bald head, desperate for something to do with his hands. His face is done but he hasn’t put his wig on yet, is waiting for the last possible minute (this one bugs him, and he really should get rid of it, but it was stupid expensive and he’s still kinda wearing it out of spite).

Anyway.

“So this might sound funny. You might think this is crazy - shit.”

He swallows. Breathes, and tries again.

“I’m gonna sound like a stalker, maybe - but - ”

“Oh. My. Jesus.” There’s a pounding on the bathroom door and Cracker’s voice echoes in the room. “Your phone is out here, who the hell are you talking to? Do you have a burner phone in there? Are you calling your secret family?”

Monét hears Bob’s loud laugh in the background and winces. 

“He’s secret straight, I’ve been tellin’ you this whole time. Got all these side-chicks.”

“Monét!” Cracker knocks again.

With a sigh, Monét cracks the bathroom door, peering into the room where his two friends have been waiting, already dressed and a couple of drinks in (okay, fine, it’s finale night - Monét might also be a couple drinks in at the moment). Bob’s boyfriend is there too, all suited up with his hair pulled back - and if he looks a bit like Cracker out of drag, well, no one’s going to mention that.

“Will you just stop?” he hisses at Cracker. “I’m trying to work out how I want to… You know…” He widens his eyes at her, praying she’ll get the hint. They talked about it at lunch a couple days ago. She knows better than anyone else what Monét is planning. 

“Oh shit,” Cracker mumbles. Then a smile graces her features. “Oh shit. Tonight? Okay, then. Werk. Glad you’re finally taking my advice.”

“Girl, we would have left your ass and gone down to the bar if we knew you were going to hide in the bathroom all night, practicing your Oscar speech,” Bob shouts at him. Doesn’t matter what the size of the room is, Bob has one damn volume setting. “You’re giving up your lame-ass Miss Congeniality trophy, remember? Not accepting a new one.”

“Fuck off.” Monét gives up on hiding, comes out of the bathroom to hunt for the bottle of whatever everyone else is drinking.

“It’s not his Oscar speech that he’s practicing,” Cracker sing-songs, raising an evil eyebrow as she sinks back onto the loveseat.

“You can fuck off, too.”

“Ooooh!” Bob says with exaggerated delight. “That speech. Tonight’s the night, huh? Okay, well. Let’s hear it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Monét rolls his eyes.

“Speech, speech, speech!”

“Fuck off, Bob.” 

“Listen, I’ve been waiting for you to put the moves on one Nina West for two motherfucking years now.” Because Bob always knows what her sister needs, she produces a bottle of tequila from behind her back and hands it over to Monét. “Or have you forgotten the reason your sorry ass was in Columbus to begin with on that fateful weekend?”

Monét takes two (larger than necessary) drinks and replaces the cap. Liquid courage or some shit. “Yeah, okay. I was with you, taking care of you, like always. Never forget.”

Cracker reaches over for the bottle. “So what are you going to say?”

“I don’t fucking know. I didn’t exactly get that far.” Monét sighs. “Everything I come up with makes me sound like a stalker.”

“I mean…” Bob shrugs. “If the size 12 Pleaser fits…”

“Fuck off, Bob!” Monét grabs his wig and marches over to stand in front of a mirror, trying to position the piece correctly. Maybe he spends a little more time on it than is absolutely necessary. Maybe he’s trying to avoid anymore teasing from Bob and Cracker. Eventually, he can’t stall anymore, so he pats it down one final time, fluffs out the bits above his ears, and swivels around, gold sequins casting light around the room.

Cracker’s smiling at him. “You’re stunning.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me, bitch. I been knew.” Though (don’t tell Cracker, it’s nice to hear).

“Soooo…” Bob says slowly, drawing out the syllable for far too long, watching Monét carefully as he reapplies his lipstick. He could do that downstairs, but honestly he likes annoying Bob. “How are you gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

“Woo Miss Nina West. Seduce her. You gonna buy her a drink at the after party? Tell her you’ve been stalking her online like a crazy bitch ever since you saw her in Columbus back in 2017 but didn’t have the guts to say anything?”

“Don’t even -”

“Or tell her you, like, were all lovelorn and shit for the entirety of Season 11? Tell her how many watch parties you dragged me to just to catch a glimpse of that ass?”

“Bob,” Cracker says, a warning in her eyes.

“Or maybe you’ll lay on that ex-Miss Congeniality charm? You know she’s probably gonna take your crown this year, right? You gonna ask her to come upstairs so you can show her how to properly polish the trophy? Oh, Jesus, won’t that be annoying. Two of you.” Bob scoffs.

Monét rolls his eyes. “If I make a move on Nina West, it’s none of your goddamn business how I go about it, Roberta.” He grabs his earrings off the table, fixes them to his lobes. “Now. Can we please go before I’m late to my own give-up?”

Bob holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine. But you better clear the air tonight. It’s been how long now that you’ve been fucked up about her? It’s getting embarrassing -”

“Bob, drop it,” Cracker says, all low and soft in that voice she reserves only for Bob. Whatever they had together was a long time ago, but they still definitely know how to press each other’s buttons. It’s usually annoying. Tonight, Monét is grateful.

Bob and his boyfriend trudge ahead with little regard for Cracker and Monét as they walk to the elevator, but Cracker turns to Monét and grabs his hand. “Hey. Ignore him. He’s… You know.”

Monét nods. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you.” Cracker smiles. “Like - get it, girl. Took you long enough. And then you can introduce us. I always thought Nina and I would be friends.”

“Don’t go crazy now. Nothing’s happened yet. I don’t even know what to say.”

Cracker shrugs. “Just… be you. You know, everyone loves you so just… Go with that. Trust your gut.”

So Monét does. 

He also trusts champagne and tequila, and wonder of wonders, it seems to fucking work. Nina laughs and banters and smiles at him, gorgeous and glittering with alcohol, and for once in his damn life, Monét feels like this is something that’s supposed to happen. Like he’s in the right place at the right time and this is a sure damn thing.

So he invites Nina back to his room (put that speech on the back-burner, girl, just for now) and Nina says “yes.” 

Jesus of all Christs.

As Monét walks back up to his room, his final remaining braincell (listen, he’s had some drinks) thinks it’s a good idea to text Cracks: “It’s HAPPENING!!!!!!!” like some sort of schoolgirl. She responds immediately with the eye-roll emoji and several eggplants. Whatever, she loves him.

He gets his paint off, gets changed - wishes he had time for a shower, but the last thing he wants to do is miss Nina’s knock. It feels like a lifetime and also thirty seconds before Nina shows up outside his door still in his paper-doll pink, and it’s ridiculous and adorable and hot as hell, and the rest of the night just - disappears. 

Magic.

So clearly the last thing he’s thinking about is giving Nina West this like - awful crazy-bitch speech about maybe having a crush on him for longer than he should’ve. The alcohol helped him not think about it too much (and Monét’s a damn over-thinker. He might not seem the type but that’s ‘cause he makes flawless look so easy, child). The next morning (afternoon), there’s no alcohol left in his system to blame and Monét has to - as they say - step his pussy up.

So he asks Miss Nina West out for lunch. 

He’s as cool and casual as he possibly can be when what he really wants to do is just roll back under the blankets with that man, but - lunch, first. Then - his stupid ass speech. Then, hopefully - the rest. Like, rolling around in blankets, a relationship, a proposal somewhere down the line, a minivan and four kids and white picket fences… All that good stuff (Jesus Christ, calm your tits girl).

He might fucking floss after Nina leaves, might spend a bit too long moisturizing.  Whatever, it’s nothing. He’s not building this up in his head or anything, he’s just - making an effort (Nina West is the reigning Miss Congeniality okay? Monét ignores the fact that he’s the reigning All Stars champion).

And when he goes down to Nina’s room, clutching the rest of the clothing Nina left behind, and running over his dumb-ass speech in his head (“This probably sounds - stupid, okay, but I saw you at this show back in Ohio two years ago - no, don’t laugh, it was a good show, you looked good, and I remember - I thought -”)

But Nina doesn’t answer the door.

Monét waits a bit, knocks again.

No one answers.

Fuck. 

He wishes he’d gotten Nina’s phone number, because maybe he’s gone out, or had to meet up with someone, or is in some hotel room holding back Brooke Lynn’s hair as the queen cries out her broken heart (Monét ain’t blind, right? He knows what that shit looks like). Or maybe Monét got the numbers wrong (that was a lot of tequila), and this ain’t Nina’s room.

Shit.

Or maybe -

Nah, nah, he won’t go there. Nina West is not the kind of person that would ghost someone. Monét’s sure. 

Pretty sure.  

No, there’s no way.

He can’t wait in the hallway all day looking like some sad-ass puppy, so Monét folds the rest of Nina’s clothing, stacks it outside his door.  Then he impulsively decides to leave his number as well. (Nina could get his number, right? From so many other queens, so Monét has zero chill, but fuck it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained or some other cliche bullshit he read on a cross stitch sampler at his Nana’s house.)

In his hand, his phone buzzes with a text from Cracker.

Bitch where are you??? Let’s do lunch. I need to know allllll the details! Then another eggplant Emoji. And the water droplets, which Monét thinks is just crass, but whatever.

Meet me in the lobby, Monét fires back as he turns around and walks back down the hall toward the elevator. 

There’s an explanation, he’s sure of it. 

He allows himself to entertain the idea as he rides the elevator down to the lobby. Nina will text, apologize, they’ll work things out, get them sorted. Everything will be fine in the end.

Monét has burned red-hot (silently, from a distance) for Nina West for way too long. 

There’s no way it’s going to end like this.

[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter fifteen (subterranean pop)

“You got a kiss for me, it hits me hard; you got a fist for me, you love so hard. My hands on my head, your words are like arrows; my hands on my head, there's permanent damage.” -”Head Injury”, Soundgarden

October 15, 1988. Interstate 5 between Portland, Oregon and Seattle, Washington.

“Hang on, Joe.”

There are no seat belts in Nancy’s car except for the one that goes over my waist there at the base of the seat; in other words, every time she hits the brakes on a patch of traffic or a curve, I have to hold onto the door panel to keep myself from flying forward right into the dashboard. I raise my knees up and slide down into the seat when she goes around a tight corner. It’s only an hour and a half trip up there but it’s going to be quite long from all of the fact I’m holding onto the car for dear life. But on the other hand, the soft rich red interior of her car is pristine and carries with it a faint smell of lilac, and is as silent as a cold, still winter morning following a blizzard.

I’m amazed by the vast stretch of lush greenery on either side of us on the way up to Seattle: upon leaving Portland, I catch glimpses of Mount Hood and then Mount St. Helens off in the distance, both of them surrounded by wispy cold gray clouds: I wish part of those clouds would float over this way and cool things off over here over the highway.

Sometime before reaching the capital city of Olympia, I roll down the window to feel the wind, and it’s still humid and warm outside even if we have moved closer to the ocean. Indian summer, alright.

I push my bangs off of my forehead. I almost inclined to take off my shirt, and in fact, I want to take it off and feel the wind on my chest and on my stomach, but seeing it’s me and Nancy here in the front seat, such a primitive sight can wait.

Mount Rainier rises out from behind a line of tall skinny trees, much to my shock.

“Holy shit,” I blurt out at the very size of the massive cone coated in thick blanket of pure white snow.

“Yeah, Rainier’s big, isn’t she?” Nancy chuckles. In fact, it stays within our view all the way into Olympia and winding our way into Tacoma. The sky is so blue over our heads, and I have never seen it such a way back in New York. I lean forward to check it out better, and then I peek over my shoulder to see Rainier still looming large behind us against the blue sky. I remember the huge eruption down by Mount St. Helens just a few years ago, and I don’t want the big jewel of a city before us to experience the same thing here.

Even from a distance, I can see the Space Needle shooting up from the heart of downtown. So small and nestled down into the earth for a city: it looks smaller than Portland in fact. To our left stands the blue glimmering waters making up the Puget Sound, and past that are two ridges covered in rich green pine trees, and then a row of more snow capped mountains. Nancy and I wind our way through the southern side of Seattle, or Sea-Tac as one sign on the side of the road declares to us. She takes the third exit off of the freeway and we roll down onto the side streets of downtown.

“This kinda reminds me of New York City,” I remark.

“Not as rough, big, and tough, though,” she adds to it as we pull up to the first stoplight.

“Not at all. It feels a lot... homier, I’d say?”

“Definitely homey here. Here and Portland both.”

She hangs a right and pulls up to a low red brick building with big tinted windows peering out to the street.

“Welcome to the heart of Seattle, Joey,” she says, pressing the button on her key chain and killing the hydrogen engine in front of us. I relax for a moment at the feel of us stopping and I breathe out a sigh of relief. My stomach turns a little bit but sitting there feeling the breeze on my face helps out.

“You okay?” she asks me.

“Yeah... yeah, yeah.” I reach down to unbuckle the seat belt, and climb out to the street to better feel the breeze on my head and my neck. Nancy follows suit on the other side of the car with her purse over her shoulder. I run my fingers through my hair before shutting the door behind me. I round the front of the car, and step onto the sidewalk, and she leads me into the front room which smells of fresh paper and clean carpet. There are three guys and a black girl congregated on the right side of the room: one guy seated in a spindly blue chair, and the other two and the girl around him. They all look like they’re reading something.

“Chris?” Nancy calls out to them. The queasy feeling in my stomach keeps the feeling of butterflies at bay as the guy seated glances up at us.

“This is Joey. He’s a music guy and he wanted to meet you guys.”

He stands to his feet and strides over to us. He’s tall, a little bit taller than me, but he’s got wavy black hair like me and that same default grave expression riddled upon his face. He almost looks like me, albeit a little softer than me and his hair doesn’t stick out every which way like mine does, and he’s got larger eyes. He has on a black sweater underneath a dark green flannel shirt, black jeans, and heavy black boots. He reaches out for my hand.

“Joey,” he says in a soft mild voice, “I’m Chris.” His grip is firm but gentle.

“And this is Matt--” The second guy comes up behind him: he’s tall, too, but with long smooth golden blond hair down to his shoulders. He looks strong and fit, much like one of the Grey brothers.

“Music guy, you said, Nan?” he asks her as he takes my hand: he’s firm but gentle himself.

“I’m a singer and a drummer,” I tell them as Matt tucks his hands into his faded denim pocket.

“Oh, that’s bitchin’, man,” Chris compliments me. “You in a band?”

“Used to be. I got fired.” And he winces at that.

“Oh, man,” Matt feels with me. “What for?”

“No idea. No idea at all. I did drink a little bit but I stopped but I guess that wasn’t enough. I dunno what was going through anyone’s minds when the manager called me.”

“We came here because I thought he reminded me of you, Chris,” Nancy fills in, and he nods his head at me.

“It’s funny. You--kinda do. From the hair and the demeanor in particular. Would you like, uh--” He gestures behind him. “--a drink of water or something?”

“Oh, yes please, I got a little carsick coming here.”

“Yep, that’s Nancy’s driving for ya,” he jokes and she rolls her eyes at him. I follow them over to the other two people when Matt turns back to me.

“I like your accent, by the way. You sound like you’re from back East.”

“Upstate New York.”

“Phew, long way from home!” the girl declares at me.

“That’s what I said to him!” Nancy says with a chuckle. “And Joey, this is Matt’s girlfriend and my best friend, Dominique. Dominique, this is Joey. He’s yet another singing drummer.”

She’s a slim lovely girl with a full head of tight black curls and that light black skin with a light sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose. She tilts her head to the side at the sight of me.

“You look familiar,” she remarks.

“I do?”

“He looks like me,” Chris covers for me, and the other guy bursts out laughing.

“Well, aside from that. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere, like in a music magazine before... I’m studying to be a journalist.”

“She just got back from New York herself,” Matt explains, putting his arm around her.

“Oh, yeah?” I press my hands to my hips.

“Shadowing under a mentor and at the New York Times, no less,” she continues. “I was immersed in a bunch of music culture so I discovered a lot of music--lot of heavy music in particular--and so... I don’t know if I saw you in a magazine as part of it or what, but yeah. You look... very familiar, like I’ve seen your face.”

“You might recognize my voice,” I point out to her. “But we’re in a recording studio right now, so you know--”

“Yeah, there’s another band in there and we’re just waiting for our time slot to open up,” Chris explains. “You know, add... finishing touches to the production and make sure everything’s squared away and whatnot.”

“Oh, right, right--and who’s this guy?” I nod to the fourth member of their party, another blond haired guy but with a large nose like me and beady little eyes.

“I’m their personal mailman,” he says.

“Oh, I see.” And we can’t help but laugh out loud as he sets down a bunch of things on the chair right before he strides out of there.

“Did Nancy tell you that this is our first album, Joey?” Chris asks me.

“I think she did,” I recall, “pretty exciting, ain’t it?”

“Totally,” Matt replies, his face lighting up. “We just got signed, too--we were signed to Sub Pop and then we switched labels for our new record.”

“Sub Pop,” I say aloud.

They all glance at one another with excited expressions on their faces. Dominique gestures me even closer to the chair and the stack of papers in the seat.

“Our little holy Bible of sorts,” she says, picking up the stack, “I see Bruce sent us the last couple of copies, at least that’s what Mark was telling us a bit ago.

“Yeah, here, Joe--check this out.” Nancy gestures to the stack right as Dominique takes out a thin black booklet from near the bottom. It’s a zine, much like After the Watershed.

The thick front cover of the zine reminded me of scratch art with its cavernous black background and pure white silhouettes in the middle. Up in the top left corner, written in thick capitalized letters was “SUB POP 5″. I open the booklet to find several newspaper clippings bookmarking the pages throughout.

“Incredible,” I mutter under my breath as I pick out one near the front. “Oh, he writes about Metallica right here, wow, badass!”

“I think,” she begins again, stooping over to better shuffle through it all, “I think anyways, he might have written about you and your old band, too, if I recall correctly. There was just a lot of shit to learn back East when I was there so it more or less feels like a blur to me.”

“That’s the cool thing about him,” Nancy adds, “about Bruce--Bruce Pavitt--and his team over at Subterranean Pop as they were originally called.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t just write about lesser knowns in places like Seattle and Portland or maybe even people like yourself,” Dominique continues, “but all the punkie type peeps across the nation. It’s because of him that Chris and Matt and their band mates Kim and Hiro are here in this studio right now and they’re putting out our first album on Halloween.”

I slip the clipping back into the booklet before taking out another one from near the back.

“What’s that one?” she asks me as I scan it over.

“From... The Rocket.”

“That’s the last entry he did for the newspaper The Rocket. Like he wrote a column called ‘Sub Pop U.S.A.’ for a while--”

“And then ended it because of the record label,” I finish for her.

“Right, right!” 

“And it’s been a rough road for us, though,” Chris pipes up again, “from all the money lost and whatnot...” I think back to when I was with Anthrax and how we were struggling for money ourselves. I also think about the fact I’m struggling myself.

“This is your first album,” I recall. “For real.”

“Yeah, we already made a couple of EPs, but yeah, this is definitely our first real big thing, though.”

“You guys nervous?”

“A little. I think Kim might be because he’s the one who named it kind of as a joke.”

“As a joke?” I chuckle at that.

“Apparently things are more than mediocre for us. They’re... ultramega OK.”

“Reminds me of a sentiment my old band used to say a couple of years ago, and with kind of the same vibe to it. ‘Nice fucking life.’”

“Nice fucking life!” Matt snaps his eyes shut and imitates an air guitar.

“Now, let’s get you a cup of water,” Chris recalls from before. “I assume you’re not hungry.”

“Nah, I just ate a bunch of pancakes before coming here,” I tell him, patting my stomach.

“I say that ‘cause there’s nothing to eat here. And--pancakes courtesy of Nancy, right?”

“Hell yeah.”

“She makes ‘em--well,” he mouths that last word and flashes me a wink and an okay sign.

“I try my best,” she remarks with another eye roll, but this time with a shy smile to accompany it. “He helps me out a lot when the going gets tough.”

“You’re a lucky girl, Nan,” I tell her with a nod. There’s something about Chris, something that reminds me of myself, and not because we have a similar look to us. I think about this for a minute as he ducks into the next room, and Matt and Nancy start talking about something. Dominique strides up to me with a bright look in her eyes and a smile on her face.

“Joey Belladonna, right?” she asks me.

“Yes.”

“Anthrax, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“See, I thought I remember you from somewhere.”

“Was it ‘nice fucking life’ that tipped you off?”

“Yes! Yes, that was it! I heard about you guys all the time when I was back in New York City. Like you guys were the next big metal band to come out of the East Coast next to Overkill and... Nuclear Assault, too. I think--I brought home a copy of you guys’ latest with me to share it with Kim and Matt later on. State of Euphoria.”

“That’s the one.”

Matt and Nancy fall silent right then.

“Hey, who’s this guy?” she notes. I turn around to find Lars striding up to the front door with a flustered look upon his face.

“What’s he doing here?” I wonder aloud, and I meet up with him there on the other side of the room.

“Hey,” I greet him.

“Hey--”

“What’s going on?”

“I have to tell you something,” he states, out of breath.

“Tell me.”

“Apparently... you remember that wormhole I made over in Black Orchid? The one in the top stairwell? The one I opened up to get you and Maya back to your place?”

“Yes.” I pause for a moment. “What about it?”

“I guess every time you make a wormhole, it doesn’t close up all the way.”

“What’re you--”

He chews on his bottom lip. And then I realize what he’s trying to tell me.

“Oh, my God.”

[raguna-blade]

Revolutionary Girl Utena Live(ish) Reaction Episodes 8-11

So it's a new year, and I'm gonna continue this, cause its' fun. Had a brief break cause of the holidays. And doing so, I figure i'm gonna do a thing where I make up a nice cleaned up version of these cause if nothing else I like organizing my thoughts. So Control F or whatever your find function is for the cleaned up version if that's your thing. It'll be under Overall Thoughts per ep. Or you know, you're me and you're going back through this for validation for whatever nonsense you say later.

Episode 8

Curry huh? And another recap? uh....

enmy remains trifling

hey wait egg time already?

Danger? Really?

Body swap? Also egg time is goofs

throwin hands????? anthy?

Yeah nanami it is ridiculous

JERSUS TOGA

nanami you idiot

She just fucked off to india to get some weird back alley spice

Shadow girls can you please, just please for a single episode.

ANTHY YOU LYING. Never been good at sports and you did that leap apparently pretty well? What the fuck.

Also, the switching thing here is mad suspect considering the end theme thing (and I suppose the opening.

Utena as Anthy : I don't want to be a sacrifice of the rose seal.

Anthy As Utena: I'm super down staying like this actually.

Like..This is just details that

Uh..Uh saionji what. The implications are strong here. Also, Douche canoe he is, but he's a romantic apparently? UUUUH. Exchange diary.

Is the “A” plot a distraction? Like for real.

Also she took that elephant to the dome.

I'm not sure how to take this personality switch. Like the minds thing whatever, but if it's just the personalties but not the person so to speak,  hold on

WHAT THE FUCK. These elephants for fucking real?

Anyway, if they're just personalities altering the “person” it's uh...Interesting. I'm not sure how to take that til I get more info. It seems like a thing.

Also, Saionji apparently legit has feels for Anthy he's just...mad dumb about expressing it? Like he's pulling a lot of Badboy Romance Tropes here but...not...in a badboy romance. Which kills his behavior entirely.

Killed his Soul AGAIN. Damn.

Who's the divine justice for? Like it doesn't seem for nanami. Who fucked up. Presumably between anthy and utena.

Anthy what the actual fuck are you doing. Are you using gunpowder?

Homie, this isn't twilight, go home saionji.

Anthy as Utena(????) you trolling. So hard.

Saionji get's zero respect but dudes dedicated I'll give him that. Fitting for bad boy romance lead.

Uh...Wait, actually, are they all romance leads? Common ones in one way or the other. They are on the student Council so...Hm. I don't read enough romance stories of the variety I think but it seems to fit? I'm not sure what juri would be in that case.

Anyway, if this Episode Turns out to be a key for understanding things I'm gonna be pissed. Just a little.

Overall Thoughts: So this and the other “filler” episode is, especially after finishing my last ep in the session, read as anything but despite the obvious uh...antics on display. Like...

Ok, so the whole thing with the ending which frames Anthy and Utena as kinda the same (or rather exactly the same, except one's in red and the other pink) makes this whole episode feel like it's basically some kind of key for understanding everything else because it's simple times. It's goofy hilarity with Nanami that's the A Plot right hahahah....

Except the personality swap between the two of them is like...The implication here is that they swapped minds fully, and given the level of fairy tale bullshit that is at play constantly in this series so far it may well just be magic brand magic and we're supposed to roll with it. Ok. Fair.

Except...The thought that sits in my head is again, Anthy and Utena seem to equal each other. Hell I point it out slightly later that there's definitely this yin yang thing going on in the opening with the two which is so blatant as to be meaningless because Hah Yeah these are our two leads obvs and they're important to each other so hahah don't worry about or think about it check out these SWEET SWORDSMANSHIP MOMENTS FROM EVERYONE LOOK AT THE BUDGET AND COOL HORSES AND CASTLES HAHAHA.

But ok, if it's a Yin Yang thing, yes they're not the same but they have elements of each other within eachother. So if it's just a personality swap but not an actual soul swap thing, that is, Anthy is just acting like Utena's personality is in her, and Utena is just acting like Anthy's personality is in her it paints this picture of Utena and Anthy as having a lot going on under the surface. I mean obviously Anthy is fucking pissed at Saionji. That was really really evident in episode one because if she's just being submissive rosebride I do what i'm told and I do what i'm told I do what i'm told, the very very very sharp dig of “We're Just classmates” is fucking brutal unnecessity. And given that she DOES know what he feels for her, and he's still acting like that, her being vindictive(or just brusque really, he's being an ass full bore) is like...absolutely reasonable.

Her Slapping back and about to throw hands with her tormentors? Who wouldn't want to right?

But then, ok that's Anthy, but what about Utena. If it's just a mind swap, Utena...want's a very defined existence? Like, she wants to just stick to a role? Feels weird, and doesn't quite immediately jive with her cause that seems against her operations right? Except, as this episode so kindly reminds us (for at least the third time in 8 episodes which seems excessive. I might be forgetting one or two) Utena's whole thing coming to this school is I want to play the Role of the Prince, whatever that actually means. Playing the Rose Bride would be no real difference, except it's way more submissive.

So that aside, Saionji saying he's in love with Anthy (and that seems to be something he at least believes to be true. He honestly seems more into Toga. Like for real for real, all the imagery of those flashbacks reads not just as close buddies, but as I am romantically down with you Toga my guy. Him being Bi is probably the easiest answer, and he just drifted away from Toga for a while. Saionji clearly sees him as a friend and rival, although it's seemingly not reciprocated at the moment.

But the thing, the thing that's kinda weird to me, is that if he does legit have feelings for her, I was struck with this odd vibe that he's playing at being a romance lead. Specifically, a Bad Boy romance lead. And doing so SPECTACULARLY badly. Homeboy is sitting here busting out poetry (unless my brain is being a dumb and i'm somehow overlaying him with Tatewaki Kuno from Ranma which ok, weird but alright) but...

Ok, if he is playing at being a Badboy Romance lead, that actually explains his behavior for how he was treating Anthy, especially if he's legit in his feelings for her? Possessive, Radiates Danger, Engages in Creepy Behavior, is a bit of a dick, etc. It lines up with Being a Bad Boy, except that the way that those usually work out in fiction, as I understand it, they're not usually like...gonna hit you. That breaks the fantasy. But...That's him fucking up the archetype. It doesn't fit for him. He doesn't understand what he's doing in that archetype.

Like yes, abusers and the like can care and still be absuers cause fucked up behavior and motivations don't need to match in the least, but it still feels odd that a man who probably literally could have done any number of fucked up things has...an exchange diary with the girl he says he cares about? And it's not like he's unaware of how submissive/passive she is, his exchange diary actually kinda reads like Utena's Anthy is A Real Girl! Activities*. He wants her to be active part of whatever their relationship is and...Eh.

But ok, if he's that, It suggests the rest of the student council, and duelists in general, would fit into a given archetype right? Toga is clearly the super cool intelligent superman student council president, Juri is basically charisma max Jock, Miki is the cute nerd, Nanami is the Ojou villainess type, Utena is...Basically the Hero type, just morals, strains to upset the status quo, Has the Cool Original Uniform.

And they all kinda fit into those pretty thoroughly, kinda like they're trying to (to varying levels of awareness)

Anyway, I'll hit on some of the other stuff in the next Ep. It's a bit more relevant there I think.

*See Me In Episode 11

Episode 9

I just realized they're doing some kinda yinyang thing in the opening so

R V G FIGHT.

Pretty tense there. Toga went straight for the heart which i'm sure means nothing.

Old Friends? Phrasing seems uh...odd? Unsure if it's dub things or actual subtext. Or both.

Dude you really got beef with a monkey? No, utena.

Being a huge dick. As is tradition.

10 Years.

Saionji: Actually love her (said) but

This is mad gay. Like the lighting, the silhouette. Saionji you're sublimating something here.

Music, Silhouettes.

...Silhouettes show truth? uh.

They were Utena's folks funeral? Huh. Also, why on earth would Utena be kidnapped? Who she be?

….Three coffins. Uh. Uhhhhhh. Utena, Toga, Saionji? UuuuHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?

Dead utena. Uh.

Toga: Ally to all women. Ok.

...Why is there a third coffin?

Something Eternal huh? And Utena wants to die for reasons understandable.

Find another coffin. Rose Sigils on the coffins. Uh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Saionji: Hey, this is nuts, we should stop her.

Toga: Nah, I'm gonna Ennable the shit out of this.

Tiny Utena with the White Rose?

Saionji: Did he do something to her?

Toga: Nope

Uh....

Anthy: Something Eternal in the castle. I want to go there.

Also impressive grip strength considering. Flat.

Does Toga Remember this or...? I can't be sure. Saionji certainly didn't recognize her, but he wasn't like right on top of the trauma child.

Toga white roses? Uh? Uhhhhh. I think he definitely remembers. But questions abound.

Ufo's shadow girls? Shadow girls having flesh is deeply concerning.

TRUE FRIENDS ARE JUST FANTASIES. OK.

And UFO's broke, so that's probably not great. Who's getting the Revelations today.

That is the fakest voice toga what the fuck

Badboy Saionji: We're Gonna get the eternity.

Also, I just realized they (saionji and anthy) have color inversions going on which is making me kinda wonder if they're related in some way?

Just slap the shit out of him that's fair.

Ok, so Saionji didn't(?) do the dumb thing. Ok,

that is...a coffin. That he's 100% obssessed with. With Anthy (Utena) inside.

He's looking like he kissed his own mom right now, goin full oedipus in the holy shit revelations here.

Castle is crumbling, falling down. So...Eternity is Fake. Ok. Sure. Didn't shadow girls say that?

Castle Immediately tried to kill him. Crushed his soul 1 time too many there I suppose.

Utena, meanwhile, dove super deep into saving anthy which...diving deeper into the fantasy?

Yeah, they all just saw things.

Saionji: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED WHATS GOING ON?

Bro, me too.

Ok, if the two are reflections, does Anthy and saionji both got some deep illusory bullshit going on? Are they both freaking out?

Toga, saving the day, and Saionji, tried to kill Utena with a sword. so. Ok.

Saionji Expelled?  Toga, fool for thinking they're friends?

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?

Overall Thoughts: I touched on a bunch of the Saionji stuff I wanna talk about in the last episode review, but the thing I kinda want to look at here is well...

Ok, Now the colors probably don't mean anything, but there was this moment that Saionji and Anthy were in the same shot and I suddenly realized they're color flips of each other. Purple hair green eyes, Green Hair Purple eyes, which ok that's interesting.

So we already have Utena Reflecting on Anthy, and hey, there's Zero Reason, absolutely negative number reasons why that wouldn't necessarily be the case with any and all of the rest of the duelists to some degree or another.

And hell, the fact that we keep flipping back and forth between Utena and Anthy in Coffins, there being (for some weird ass reason) a third entirely unrelated coffin for Utena's folks funeral, why the fuck not right?

So ok, Anthy and Saionji mirror each other which...Ok. If the Personality Swap from Episode 8 thing holds, The two actually share some pretty dickish actions. They can be cruel and petty and just antagonistic to things that don't quite jive with what they want. Saionji with Anthy not being...whatever he's expecting out of her, or Utena butting in. Anthy with the girls who keep fucking with her and Saionji.

They both seem to be utterly STUCK on the Rose Bride thing, although from different angles of Possessing the Rosebride and being the Rosebride, and the kind of weird shaping of the Rosebride thing that's going on.

Saionji is treated as a joke by the student council, especially after he get's kicked out, which ultimately ends with him being someone who is generally wanted but ends up ultimately exiled from society. Which mirrors with Anthy as someone is is wanted, but doesn't seem to have ANY kind of actual tangible bonds with anyone.

And, for this last one I have ZERO evidence on the Anthy end, but the suggestions are uh..interesting. Saionji in this episode, as suggested by the shadow girls at least in part, is deeply deeply invested in a fantasy of some kind, one that ultimately leaves him crushed and rather empty, further exiled from people who could or do care for him and that he cares about. Which if we're going with the property sliding across and He's a Foil for Utena (which I think is definitely true in some ways) suggests bad things for her down the line.

Episode 10

Saionji's a joke huh? He's taking it well.

Toga WOW. WOW YOU FUCKING DOUCHE. STRAIGHT IN THE FIRE HUH.

EGG TIME.

So, thing about eggs, that includes whats inside it right? so...Revolutionize yourself right? Right? That's obvious right?

Oh new duelist. Cool cool.

Utena getting slapped. By Nanami. With Utena being hella submissive. (EPISODE 8 FLASHBACKS INTENSIFY)

maybe a girl can't be a prince. THERES THAT THESIS. E8 FLASHBACKS

Nanami got her brother a kitty.

Oh damn it is Nanami. Duel Time. I mean we sall it in the opening but you know.

Jesus Toga, please stop being

OH GOD NANAMI NO. NOOOOOO NOPE NO.

Toga: We ain't kids no more. Shit don't fly.

Nanami: Emotionally devastated.

Is that Miki's sister?

Hey, what happened to the cat?

Juri: Hey, Serious Business, what the fucks up with the duelist?

Toga is perpatrating as badly as nanami actually. He's just less immediately obvious about it I guess.

Goddamnit there's Anthy's next slap. Jesus. Legit, who hasn't at this point. Is this a theme? IS THIS A THING?

Jesus, he's just playing all of this to piss her off? What the fucks up.

...Did nanami kill the cat. Uh...Uhhhhhh.

Ring is an engagement ring. Wait, that's a flat out school rule that everyone knows? For real? Uh.

...What the fuck happened with the kitty. Uh...

ITS TIME. ABSOLUTE DESTINYYYYYYYYYYYY

I just realized the kinda weird framing with Anthy dressing up utena kinda looks like her opening her legs up with the way it get's framed and I'm not sure if that's me just kinda over reading things or if that's a thing.

Nanami's duel outfit is SICK. Also, a yellow alt color of utena.

Actually. ACTUALLY? Is...Is Nanami like an Utena Alt color? That can't be right. Actually looking at  them right next to each other they're...straight up alt colors of each other. Not to mention Nanami's my prince thing mirrors Utena.

She just HOT pulled a knife. Oh she's About to fucking hot MERC utena, going for death jessus.

They're supposed to be around the same age too for that matter right?

She absolutely killed that cat and it's...

With her hair down she does look like an utena alt color even more.

Why's the duel music still going after the duel finished. Jesus. This wasn't a duel with Nanami, it was a duel with Toga, and I think Utena Hot lost it out and out.

Overall Thoughts: Well the Big thing I'm paying attention here are two. First the simpler one.

The Egg has to break the shell of the world to be born right? I'm paraphrasing badly, but the thing is the way they keep phrasing that is that the World is the Egg, but the egg isn't just the shell right? It includes what's inside of it. Which if that's the case, mixed with the way that duels work out being more a clash of ideals than of actual tangible skill, the revolutionize the world bit seems to be referring to them themselves, that is the duelists.

Alternatively, the Bird Referenced, the thing being revolutionized is Anthy. Which...Is an interesting line of thought. Given the Duels as a whole are basically choosing who her fiance will be, that'd imply that ultimately this decides the way that Anthy would come to develop? Or how she chooses to develop? Which ok if so, and the way that Ideals seem to be at play, Suggests...What? Dunno. Need more info, which will be delivered later.

But the other thing here, continuing the mirroring thing, which might be me reading too deeply, but I think not and even if it is Whatever I'm having fun.

THE ENTIRE NANAMI DUEL felt like a Mirror Match.Heck, Nanami dressed like an alt color of Utena, and especially once her hair got undone she looked even more like an alt color of Utena. They're only about a year different in age, and her brother seems to be her Prince type, and he drops the ring on her like an engagement ring, and she basically says I fight like my brother because he's my ideal.

Which is a weird thing since right now it's not going...too far. I'll have to see how it shakes out, but if the mirroring thing continues, the fact that the moment she lost she basically said nope fuck that, Knife Time, was...Concerning. It says real concerning things with Utena.

But it also says other interesting things then, because if Nanami is supposed to be some kind of Alt color Utena, similar in ambition goals and the like, if more outwardly girly to Utena's princey thing, their relationship with Anthy is uh..

Uh...

Well put simply, Utena is fucking up big and dramatic with Anthy, and she doesn't realize it at all or care because she can't see it for what it is. Nanami actively tries to undermine Anthy, and does some fucked up things to her. Which..Makes me wonder about the Divine Judgement thing from Episode 8 which, damnably, seems to be forming some kind of key here.

Like the way it's frame suggests the divine Judgement being visited upon Nanami is what's being talked about. But ok, Nanami had some bad shit happen to her sure, but...All of that was self inflicted upon her trying to fix what she percieves as a problem. Yes her reasons for doing it are so she can be with her brother, no doubt, but...They're ridiculous. Like, I cannot believe this shit is happening. But

But

If the Target of Divine Judgement/punishment is the Anthy Utena duo, one or both of them are on the receiving end of it. It's not clear how Acting like Utena would be a punishment for Anthy (I'm sticking with it just being a personality swap and not a full mind swap) but Utena who prides herself on being princely and aspires to that being the super submissive rosebride? I could see that being a kind of hell for her. And if the logic of Utena is Undermining Anthy holds out, but the criitcal difference being her ignorance and dishonesty of why compared to Nanami unabashedly saying yes I am fucking doing this fuck you I get what I want no hold barred, it...

Like, Nanami, as far as it goes, doesn't really receive a punishment if we're being honest. Yes she takes a couple of elephants to the dome, and has to be away from her brother and see her thing fail but..The way it's treated by herself and everyone else is basically a LOL THESE THINGS HAPPEN I GUESS HAHAHA. The Utena/Anthy swap meanwhile seems considerably more serious for them (especially considering the Everyone Slaps Anthy thing that seems to legit be a thing. Somehow. Except here Applied to “Utena”), and seems to cause some serious distress.

We'll see I guess.

Episode 11

As I watch this opening more and more, why is anthy like constantly framed like...Ominous as shit? Is it me?

Homegirl is just. Damn. Sure glad NOTHING BAD WILL HAPPEN (I do not trust this series to not have something bad happen to Wakaba. Again.)

Anthy. Are..are you...passive aggressively doing...something

Toga: I can see through the illusions yeah boi.

I do not trust this for an inch. He is abusing the shit out of his framing, like the whole time, and I don't trust.

Toga is “student council prince” archetype. Miki's nerdy student counciler.

EGG TIME

Juri is...Antagonistic But well meaning?

Saionji...I'm not sure he was actually on the stuco. But if so, bad boy.

What....is with the balloons. The color coded balloons.

Miki: Like a Pet Cat.

The Pet Cat that died, got killed.

WHAT IS WITH THESE BALLOONS.

ALSO I SEENT YOU PURPLE BALLOON.

So if the duels are ideal clashes more than actually a matter of direct skill, is this Toga (touga?) trying to fuck with Utena before the fight?

Anthy is a Bird. Ok. And Toga, arguably, being the biggest dick here. We thought it was Saionji, but the trick was he's the red part of the rose.

Anthy shut down REAL quick when being the rose bride was brought up.

Is Utena projecting mad hard onto Anthy here?

Homeboy needs to stop playing these games.

Utena, Stahp.  DO NOT TRUST HIM.

Toga, You...DOUCHE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH

Toga: Oh My B, Shouldn't act that way in front of the rose bride. ALSO DUELING LETS GOOOOO.

Utena: one link forces me to fight him. Meanwhile, rose symbols everywhere, a lot of them brought in by anthy.

Hmmmmmmm.

Utena is hard not understanding something here. I don't know what (rose bride related for sure) but I don't get...WHAT is off here.

Cause thinking about it, Utena's objective with Anthy is arguably the most noble, but she's still not quite treating anthy as a person.

….William Tell Interlude is SUITABLY CONCERNING considering the above thoughts so uh.

Also that was a weirdly specific number. 30K arrows or something?

I just realized that the DARKNESS OF DARKNESS OF LIGHT OF DESTINY OF (INSERT) things seems to show up right around anthy a lot. I'm not super sure if that's a whole thing or just a this episode thing, but...

Is Utena about to get HOT DUNKED? Because I think she is.

Also, I just realized, Utena slid into that pull sword out of rose bride thing right quick and she's never once questioned that.

So yes, Utena has BOOTY but cheeks swordsmanship, which yeah, obvs. Two of the people she beat were actually skilled before this fight, and yet she won somehow.

I don't know how to deal with these lyrics. But Toga is absolutely  fucking with her head here.

And She Lost. Decisively. YUP. WELP THIS IS GONNA BE A THING NEXT TIME.

Toga: Hey you don't have to deal with this bullshit anymore.

Utena is doing the EXACT same shit Miki and Saionji were pulling, and Anthy's blank soulless stare is freaking me the hell out. Again.

So, ideals here. But the idea that whoever has a...better grasp of the truth is the victor. Which makes sense that Toga wins here.

Jesus, Soul crush 2.0, except it's on Utena this time. Goddamn.

WELL NEXT EPISODE PROMISES TO BE FUN.

Utena: ITS NOT TRUE. ITS NOT TRUE!

The Anime Revolutionary Girl Utena IMMEDIATELY: MISSING TRUTH ETCETC HOLD ME IN YOUR TRUE ARMS I WANT TO KEEP SMASHING LIES APART

SURE THAT MEANS NOTHING GUYS GGNORE.

Also, no joke, these seem like a Direct response to this episode and I'm not sure how to feel about that.

I want to be hated by lies? Uhhhhh.

Overall Thoughts: So Hey, Here we are in Episode 11 and I want to talk about how Utena and Saionji basically are each other right here.

Like overtly even I think, even if the actions aren't precise clean mirrors to each other which I guess is just how i'm going to be going through this series right now RiP.

But ok, here's the thing. What has been increasingly clear as time goes by is that Utena is fundamentally misunderstanding something about Anthy. I'm not sure fully what it is, but it's clearly Rosebride related, and the thing with the clashing ideals suggests that the.

Actually let me explain that clear like. Right now my read on the Duels is that they are NOT in any way shape or form a demonstration of skill. I Think that's clear through this point, but I'm making it explicit for my own sake. The Victor of the Duel isn't the better fighter. If that were the case, It'd suggest the only ones in the running at all would be Toga or Saionji (Juri should also be in here, but I'm not actually clear how skilled she is compared to those two, and the way they're treated suggests that Toga and Saionji are comparable in pure skill/ability.)

But Utena somehow beat Saionji like three times, Juri and Miki. Miki's whatever, but Juri clearly knows what she's doing, and Saionji seems to be Kendo Team captain so you know. Up there. Meanwhile, Utena explicitly is an amateur.

I'm not saying, in full, that actual skill with the blade is a null thing, but your ideals seems to be the biggest factor over everything else. Presumably, people rocking equally “powerful” ideals would fall to skill with the sword.

Anyway. The Truths that Seem to be critical are Anthy Wants to Be Free of the Rosebride. Ok, so Utena has the right read then right? But then she lost to Toga who seems to be rocking Anthy Wants to Be, or else Considers herself fundamentally to be, the Rosebride, which is something that Utena seems to be denying about Anthy, but is none the less true.

But then, How are Utena and Saionji the same? Well, remember an episode back where I was talking about the divine punishment thing and all that jazz from episode 8?

It hits both of them for mistreating the Rosebride. There is a fantasy going on between Utena and Saionji, and while Saionji's is a bit complicated and unclear I think, Utena's actually is pretty straightforward I think. Utena want's to be a prince. That's her fantasy. The general virtues she want's to possess are great. Good even. But the specific's seems to involve a kind of rides in and saves the day riding in on a white horse thing, where she's the hero and does for some poor unfortunate girl what her prince did to her.

Saionji's meanwhile, seems to be something of him having a genuine reciprocal relationship with Anthy, with him inhabiting the role of a badboy romantic lead while the two of them have feelings for each other. When, really, he doesn't seem to care for her, or at least the feelings that he has for her are considerably weaker than whatever awkward feelings he has going on for Toga (I'm seriously a little fuzzy here, cause it feels like following his most recent defeat he's rocking some kind of clarity? I don't know how it's gonna work out, but I could sorta see him Returning and upsetting whatever the then status quo is.)

But notably, the big thing between them is their staunch refusal to accept what seems to be really true about their relationship with Anthy.

That the end theme seems to immediately pop up as an answer to Utena's reaction feels...Purposeful.