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demauryss · 4 years ago

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for mtea @bluronyourradar. based on her tags on this post. i had minimum knowledge of how speed dating works so i wrote what came to me with the bit of research i did!!! i hope you like this and i’m sorry for taking too long!!

slow motion (i’m watching our love) 💌 | 3.9 k

in which there’s speed dating, some unexpected friends, a brief stint of matchmaking and a whole lot of sunshine smiles.

Lucas didn’t know what he was expecting to happen when he’d agreed with Mika to come to this … event or whatever it was. Because apparently Lucas was like a house plant Mika had got and forgot to take care of – and now it was starting to rot and needed someone to looks after it pronto.

That had been Mika’s analogy in trying to convince Lucas to try speed dating. Something he hadn’t heard of before. And with the promise of Mika buying all of Lucas’s groceries for the month if he came, Lucas had landed himself in this place. And it was the most recent thing he was regretting.

It’ll be fun, I promise!

It’s stupid, is what it is.

He didn’t know what to expect – but it was certainly not resorting to hide in a corner away from Mika’s prying eyes after talking with a total of four people – and being a witness to a very explicit kiss.

He wasn't thinking he'd get anyone when he had agreed to this, if you ask him. His thought process has been more towards getting through the evening with avoiding as much human interaction as he can. But in a succession of events, Mika had dragged him to a table, and Even, taller than nine of Lucases combined and eyes which was the reason why Lucas's tongue had forgot to form words, had approached him, and that was the first negative spike in his brain's specified compartment for dread.

They had talked for eight minutes before the bell rang and Even moved on to the next person. Lucas had learnt he was from Oslo; in his second year of college. He seemed nice, if those eight minutes were anything to go by, and totally someone Lucas would probably consider himself with.

But there was something nagging inside his brain.

So he'd smiled as Even had left. Totally chiding his brain for worrying about lost potential when there were more pressing matters to discuss. Like why the next person coming after Even looked like a live incarnation Jack Frost. His name was Sander, and he was a David Bowie enthusiast. And then had come Nico and David, one after the other.

And if it hadn't been for the way his stomach had crumbled at the thought of being with any of them -that he was slowly feeling his insides coming to his throat whenever he as much as smiled at them, that there was this empty hollow feeling inside of him as he sat talking to them despite his brain accepting them to be nice as the first thing it made sense of – Lucas wouldn’t be sitting here in his natural habitat being miserable at cursing his luck.

But as it happens – there was something nagging inside his brain. A black space. A variable entirely missing from the equation.

Lucas looks around the multitude of people all in an assortment of fading lights and a cacophony of voices all going over his head of people conversing. Lucas has never been good at that part, and that's why he finds it all so surreal to see. And it’s between that, hiding from Mika and cursing his fate, that there’s a mild commotion behind him. It would have been impossible to separate it from the discordance around him, had it not been for the way the reason the said commotion is created comes to where he’s sitting in the corner. Lucas, without meaning to, trains his ears on – he does a quick counting in his head – four people.

“I’m just saying,” One of them says, rubbing a hand over his neck. He looks like how Lucas feels after having to deal with a stupid customer on the phone – which is a story of a daily basis, “If you want to find a match, then maybe you should try and – I don’t know – talk to someone! ---

“Shut up Marti! This whole concept is stupid.” The one Lucas assumes to be Isak snaps. He looks tired, and Lucas really can’t argue with that sentiment.

“But it won’t hurt you to try?” Marti begins as a final resort. Isak only glares at him, “I don’t know what you think, but going on a date once doesn’t make you a relationship expert.”

“And especially when you call us in the middle of it to help you fake an emergency so you could run away.” The third person speaks, and Marti turns his murder filled eyes towards him. Lucas watches, heart somewhat lighter, as Marti just about digs the grave of the person in front of him.

“I like you better when you’re stoned, Matteo.” Marti grumbles, and the person in question turns starry eyed towards him, his tongue peeking out as he takes a gulp of the liquid in the glass he’s holding. These people remind Lucas of his own group of friends, those he hasn’t seen in months. With Yann and Basile both gone to spend the summer with their grandparents and Arthur on that science camp he signed up for ages ago – it has been quite some time since he last saw of them.

And now he misses them, terribly.

Marti looks at his friends disapprovingly as Isak and Matteo and the quiet friend whose name Lucas hasn’t got yet fail to hide their laughs at Marti’s distraught expression. He sighs, turning sideways and catching Lucas’s eyes. Lucas feels heat crawling up his neck spreading over his face at the thought of being caught in listening to someone else’s conversation. His initial reaction is to looks away, but his brain prevents him from doing so. Whatever, it’s too late now.

To his surprise, Marti addresses him like he’s talking to an old friend or something. “Please help me clear a point to these idiots,” he begins, “I’ll owe you forever.”

As if on cue, three pairs of eyes turn towards him in sync. Lucas gulps down whatever he was feeling earlier at being caught. “I’m sorry I can’t do that,” Lucas starts, feeling foreign being the subject of unknown gazes.

“Because you also think it’s stupid, right?” It’s Isak who begins with a hopeful cadence in his tone. Marti frowns at him, and Lucas sends a small smile in his direction.

“Well, there’s no denying that.”

The yell that breaks past Isak’s lips as he jumps in triumph raises several eyes in their direction. Lucas chuckles, apologetically looking at Marti who’s watching everything with a scowl on his face.

“I knew you were one of us,” Isak gestures to himself and the two people standing behind him. He looks out into the ground, pulling a sour expression on his face, “No sane person would be willing to spend an entire evening out there. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell this idiot here. But I think he gets it now. Do you, Marti?”

Marti, who has turned his head away from them, grumbles childishly, “Whatever. You guys don’t care for me.”

Isak laughs, and it’s Matteo who comes forward at that instant, wrapping an affectionate arm around Marti’s neck. “Don’t be like that, Marti. We do care for you!”

“Yeah. You’re the one who opens all of our jars when we need them.” The quiet one steps forward, and Lucas watches with Isak next to him. He heaves a sigh, before rolling his eyes, “Yeah yeah, now you can stop being a diva-” he turns to Lucas, “-he’s just being dramatic. Ignore him.”

Lucas laughs, now all unease under the guise of the nervousness which comes from meeting these people. Isak steps forward, taking a seat next to where Lucas is sitting. His friends follow, and soon he’s include in a circle of unknown people in a place he’d rather bolt out of.

“If we’ve reached an agreement here,” Isak pointedly says towards Marti, who is busy drilling holes in his skull. There’s light music present in the air around him, filled with occasional ringing of bell. Lucas ignores it and focuses on Isak. “I’d like to formerly make an introduction. I’m Isak, that’s Marti, Robbe and Matteo, and we’re seriously not having a good time right now.”

Lucas grins, “I’m Lucas, and you can count me in that.”

“Then what brings you here, Lucas?” It’s Robbe – the quiet one – who asks him that. His eyes have a kind look in them, and it’s accentuated by the light hanging over his head.

“My roommate,” Lucas sighs, “He works here, and he kind of convinced me to come and by convinced I mean he offered to buy my groceries for the month, so.”

They laugh, even Marti, who lets his annoyed expression slip for a minute before picking it up again as if nothing happened. It does occur to Lucas that he’s basically oversharing to a bunch of random people he just met. But the thought evaporates when they smile together, a familiar glint to all of their eyes. Lucas follows the warmth and soon, he finds himself getting enveloped.

Matteo smiles, “I was tagged into this Instagram post and someone thought it’d be a good idea to try this out.”

“And I still stand by it,” Marti somewhat grumbles. Lucas chuckles as Isak shakes his head at him. Robbe pats him on the back as Marti turns to Lucas.

“Please tell me you atleast talked to people before forming your opinion instead of criticizing from afar like some people here.”

“Hey!” Isak, Matteo and Robbe shout in unison. Lucas smiles, shaking his head. “Yeah I did meet some people but –“ Lucas shrugs, “-they were not someone I’d consider eating a pizza with brought from my roommate’s money.”

“That makes a lot of sense. Why didn’t I think of it before?” Matteo asks Robbe, who just shrugs. It Marti who bites back, “Because you’re stupid, that’s why.”

Lucas looks between them, as Isak raises his hand, high-fiving Marti over Lucas’s head. This night is going to be fun.

Some twenty minutes later, and Lucas is now a member of a groupchat with the four people whom Lucas can now almost call him his friends. (They’ve exchanged numbers, followed each on Instagram, exchanged pretty heavy details of their lives and exchanged some solid opinions on the people they’ve found mildly interesting.)

Now he and Matteo are surveying the crowd, finding someone suitable for Isak to go and talk to since his great epiphany seconds ago about not wasting any chance he’s presented with. (Marti had the most smug ‘I’ve been saying it for ages’ look on his face which Isak had wiped away with a middle finger raised in his direction.) Robbe and Marti were helping them, but it wasn’t up to any use since so far Isak had rejected hundred percent of the guys they had picked, all with the same monotonous ‘I’m not feeling it now.’

And Robbe had coughed a laugh with Marti hiding his face in Robbe’s shoulder, Matteo had whispered under his breath, that’s not the only thing you’re going to not feel tonight if you keep this up, and Isak had landed a smack at the back of his head – and it was when Lucas had realized his evening had turned out quite different from what he was thinking. He may not have found a match tonight, and Mika hadn’t said that he must find one. Atleast he’d be walking out with this memory with four new contacts – and the freedom from worrying about buying his groceries for the next month.

He looks out into the crowd dimmed with light. He doesn’t know if any successful match has been formed yet or not, but he doesn’t have to worry about that for more as he spots Mika sashaying towards him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Damn Lucas,” he says. His eyes turn brighter as his gaze shifts from Lucas to the people sitting around him. “I thought finding one match would take you centuries but you’ve managed to snag four beautiful people from the crowd. I must be teaching you well.”

Lucas rolls his eyes as Mika goes on introducing himself to them. It’s when terms like Lucas’s gay guru and Lucas’s foray for the night are exchanged between the group, that he turns around, way past feeling embarrassed at his roommate’s antics. He’s so used to them now it’s not even funny.

“Okay Mika you can stop it now,” he says, watching as the guys including Mika act entirely too pleased at Lucas’s discomfort. “Sorry to burst your bubble but none of them is my match.”

“Oh he wishes he could get someone like me,” Robbe grins as Marti and Matteo fail to hide their terrible smiles. There’s a moment where Lucas remembers he called them kind, but that’s all gone now.

“Yeah. He was alone and miserable in the corner. If it hadn’t been for us he would have probably died from sadness.” Isak says, elbowing Lucas in his shoulder. Lucas musters his most perfect glare he could in that moment.

“I hate you all.”

“Oh but I don’t!” Mika laughs as if he’s having the time of his life. “I’m not pleased with anything Lucas does in his life, but I’m so proud of him for finding you guys!” He looks like a proud parent, Lucas would have felt to say had it not been for Mika declaring the sentiment himself. “I’ve work to do now, but you guys are welcome to come here anytime you want.”

Mika leaves, and Lucas glares at the four devils now grinning from ear to ear. Lucas rolls his eyes, scowling when their expressions don’t drop.

“Seriously?” Lucas asks.

“Yes,” they all reply in unison, and Lucas shakes his head.

“Now if you’re done being creepy can we go back to the task at hand?”

It gets their attention as Isak straightens up, a serious expression falling on his face. “I’ve come to a conclusion; I’m letting fate decide it for me.” as he speaks, he pulls out a coin from his inner pocket and puts it forward in his open palm in front of Lucas. “Lucas, take this coin and throw it in whatever way you want. If it lands on the floor somewhere, I’d go home and never try speed dating again. But if it lands on a table or hits someone on the head and that person turns then-“

He shrugs, and Lucas doesn’t see the logic in his plan. “It’s stupid,” Robbe says, to which Isak snaps in his direction, “Shut up I’m trying something here.”

So with one last hopeless look shared between Lucas and Marti and Robbe and Matteo, and a hopeful Isak jumping with glee, Lucas takes the coin, throwing it away and –

It follows a perfect projectile, a silver running through air, disappearing for a second. They all watch it and Lucas can swear they’re all holding their breaths. It’s silly, how they collectively exhale when the coin reappears into their vision before landing on-

Even’s table.

Lucas can tell he’s shocked when a coin lands on his table not far from them as he starts looking around. Lucas turns his head to the side, watching Marti and Matteo and Robbe do the same. But Isak- he stays with his stare focused on Even who’s now smiling at someone and Isak looks completely smitten.

“Um…Isak?” Marti waves a hand in front of his face, sharing a look with the three as Isak completely ignores him.

“Lucas you beautiful being!” Isak says, still in a kind of trance as he gets up from his chair. Lucas understands his intentions, and with a pat on his back, Lucas says, “Go on. He’s from Oslo too.”

It’s what sets the deal as Isak sets in motion. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he says off-handedly. They watch him make his way to Even, the crowd swallowing him just when he makes his way to the table.

Matteo turns to Lucas, “Is he one of the guys you said you talked too?”

Lucas nods, “Yeah he is – and come to think of it, I think I met some people you guys would like.”

And as Lucas plays matchmaker, he looks for the remaining three people he had met before. It’s funny really – this fate or kismet or whatever was going on when he met these people each of which bears a connection with the people he’d met earlier – and he spots Sander, his lighter than blond hair standing from the crowd. Lucas turns to Robbe.

“You see that guy over there? He’s Sander, and I think you’d be perfect together.”

It takes him a minute or two to find Nico and David in the crowd, and it takes him a minute as he convinced Marti and Matteo to go talk with them. Unlike Robbe who had fled straightaway, these two were difficult, and Lucas had resorted to quoting Marti’s own lines to him.

“It doesn’t hurt you to try, does it?”

And now he is left alone on their table as he tries to check up on his friends in the crowd. He had seen Isak disappearing with Even, and he’d shot him a thumbs-up when he’d met his eyes from across the room. The rest of them are still in the talking stage from what Lucas can see, even Mika, who’s now stood talking to someone much too familiarly – and Lucas can’t help but be envious of apparently how easy that looks for him.

He’s thinking of calling it a night after Isak sends a message in their newly formed groupchat, saying how he doesn’t think he’d be back anytime soon (which Lucas kind of guessed, by the way). The other boys reply in variations of same sentiment, and Lucas guesses his attempt at matchmaking was more successful than he thought it would be.

Lucas shakes his head, sending a message back into the groupchat, making sure the guys knew he won’t be missing them if they end up getting murdered tonight.

(But in all seriousness, he tells them to be safe, and he smiles when gets all affirmative responses in return.)

It’s when he’s beginning to leave that he feels a presence beside him. It’s a repeat of just a few moments ago, and he turns, expecting it to be Robbe or Matteo or even Mika and-

-and it’s not them. Not by a long shot.

For a moment it feels like one of Lucas’s daydreams as the light turning green and blue dances over the stranger’s head. His lips are curved in a smile, and Lucas really feels he’s tripped and transported into one of the universes he’s created during many of his bouts of daydreaming.

“Hi. You’re Lucas right?” The stranger’s voice carries over the noise of the club. It’s soft, sweet, and Lucas would have lost it had it not been for the stranger to be standing literally in a meter’s distance of him.

The stranger meets his eyes, and Lucas feels all the conversation skills in him reverting to zero. He was having no problem talking about his life to then-strangers just moments ago. Why does it brain have to be filled with hay now?

“Um – yes?” It comes out as a question, and the person smiles. Lucas feels his idiot brain transporting him to somewhere else – where it’s only him and the stranger, where the voices in the background aren’t filling his mind like white noise and where the sun is shining directly over him so Lucas is able to make out the colours lighting up in the stranger’s eyes.

Lucas’s heart beats heavily in the hollow of his chest.

The stranger cocks his neck to one side, “I’m Eliott,” he says. Eliott, Lucas rolls the name in his head. “And I’ve been watching you play matchmaker for a while and I’ve been meaning to ask -,” he takes a pause; Lucas hangs onto it, “-which of these beautiful boys do you think I’d match perfectly with?”

It’s a wonder Eliott doesn’t notice when Lucas’s heart tears his chest and lands on the table in front of him, beating so heavily it’s a struggle trying to calm it down. Eliott has been watching him. Eliott, who looks like he makes a living out of appearing on billboards and photoshoots, has been watching Lucas for a better part of his night.

Lucas wets his lips, thankful for the dim lighting of the café to hide his burning cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to-

“Do you have your eyes set on someone tonight?” Lucas mirrors the position of Eliott’s head. Eliott’s face lights up even more, and Lucas feels a shiver of unknown reason pass through the length of his spine.

“I do, actually. He has a nice smile and pretty blue eyes. And his hair is the wildest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lucas looks around, confused for a moment, “That’s like, half of the people here?”

Eliott wrinkles his face adorably. Something jumps inside Lucas’s stomach at the sight. Eliott mutters something under his breath which Lucas fails to catch. And then he looks up, his eyes now gaining a glint which wasn’t there before. Lucas focuses – and it’s of nervousness.

“I suppose I should be more direct,” Eliott begins, taking a step forward so he’s just an inch away from Lucas, “If you’re free now then I’d like to take you somewhere.”

What?

Lucas chokes on the air caught in his throat at Eliott’s sudden statement, neck whipping towards him so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t break it. Eliott himself looks taken back, and Lucas doesn’t know if it’s at his own words or something else.

“Wait no – that was so straightforward I’m sorry!” Eliott’s voice is frantic, and Lucas feels a beginning of something in his chest. “I – uh – I wanted to know if you’ve found someone tonight.” He says in one single breath. Lucas feels his face getting warm. The good warm you get after spending a day out in the sun as it washes away your sadness and takes it from you as it begins to set. He feels ants crawling inside him – those who begin from his heart and spread like a warm fire all around him with his blood.

Eliott looks like he might mass out when Lucas comes back. This doesn’t happen to him. It isn’t often that people actively seek him out. And here’s him – Eliott – in all his beauty sitting in front of hm. There’s something restless inside his arms, a nervousness which rises from the feeling which he’s refusing from letting it set in his bones.

“I haven’t,” Lucas’s voice is small, but it’s everything which brings a light to Eliott’s face which he can’t wait to follow. The warmth settles over him, and Lucas turns his head to the side when it becomes too much. He finds the guys, minus Isak, who have now taken the role of an audience for Lucas, and apparently look shameless when Lucas catches them staring.

(It isn’t like Lucas can judge them or anything.)

Lucas tries to convey a message to them with his eyes, and they get it, thankfully, as they turn to their respective partners, now forming a small circle which Lucas watches from afar. He turns to Eliott, his eyes in half-moons and smile in all suns. It really feels like a dream, and he wastes no moment in sending a prayer above.

“So – the place you wanted to take me?”

Eliott laughs, his voice soft and high. He leans forward, and Lucas meets him halfway.

#skam france #elu fic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #elu #penned #skam france fic

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xiaomomowrites · 4 years ago

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hiraeth

Legend of Korra | Kainora

Summary: Kai gets tired of this long distance thing first. Full disclosure, the unmistakable feeling of this dreaded distance has been building up for months now, and the only thing that kept the truth stuck in his throat was the fact that it felt completely and utterly selfish to admit it out loud. Even to himself. “Last chance to tell me not to go,” he looks down at her surprised expression. Jinora’s mouth twitches into a bitter smile, humoring him. “Don’t go."

Find this story on AO3 and Fanfiction!

A/N: Wow haha. Every time I take a "short" break from writing, it always ends up being like a year or so. I've been working on this one since Netflix dropped Korra this summer actually, because I remember how much this ship makes me feel things lol. Also because I was totally robbed of these two in season 4. I adore this sunshine ship, but you know me, I have a weird affinity for angst. Anyway, enjoy! - s.a.

hiraeth - (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.

Kai gets tired of this long distance thing first.

At least, that’s what it looks like to him whenever he’s waiting on a response from his busy significant other.

Full disclosure, the unmistakable feeling of this dreaded distance has been building up for months now, and the only thing that kept the truth stuck in his throat was the fact that it felt completely and utterly selfish to admit it out loud. Even to himself.

He’s an airbender too, for Raava’s sake. The expectation is that he is a picture of patience and an expert at disassociating from the pull of earthly ties. It really doesn’t help either that this is not just some simple cookie cutter relationship with a normal girl. In which, maybe a couple months of separation and no contact probably meant it was over. Instead, their relationship is decorated with the complexities of being responsible for a whole nation’s growth and wellbeing, and half of this pair, a master Airbender, was an important figure in this mission.

Kai ultimately understood that the years they had spent together so far built quite a solid foundation for setbacks like this. The communication, the genuine love, and the mutual understanding seemed like the perfect equation for a relationship that could withstand the turbulence of long distance.

But sometimes he just felt like there was no room to be...clingy. And that kinda sucked.

At first, the occasional reunions were sufficient.

There was pep in his step when he worked, knowing that he would always come home to her. Work hours would go by quickly when he knew there was a phone call waiting for him at the end of the day. It became natural to expect an incoming letter (he has kept every single one) that went on about anything and everything in his absence. He always adored the way he could read them in her voice; anyone with a functioning pair of eyes would be able to see the strength of their love in the beginning.

“He must have a lucky lady in his life,” people in passing would say, commenting on the way he held his chin up. It was easy to pinpoint the source of this glow about the young airbender.

Counting down the days was so much easier when the finish line was always palpable.

But that was just the beginning.

The beginning, four years ago, before Jinora became significantly more occupied with significantly more responsibilities. This was before the population of the new air nation had practically doubled, and before issues started arising left and right as a consequence of the Avatar’s disappearance and, subsequently, Kuvira’s attempted tyranny. Things were different before, and so he coined the term, and used it with venom whenever he would spill all his frustrations to Opal.

Although there was a brief period following the fall of Kuvira's army where things seemed to slow down a little, the world quickly picked up its pace once more, sending him off to travel the world and keeping her where she was needed the most.

In retrospect, it was naive to think they would be let off the hook just because they were two teenagers in love, impending doom no longer looming over their shoulders. Of course, they both knew it was only a matter of time before more work and real obligations towered over them and their relationship. But at the time, it was easy to focus on being grateful for the extra time together, until the thought of being separated again so shortly after inevitably dampened the mood. And what neither of them expected was the toll this distance would take on a couple of youngsters in love that feel with every fiber of their being.

Kai sighs, twirling the pen in his hand. The paper underneath his other hand remained painfully blank. It stared at him teasingly and he simply stared back, daring it to make a comment on him not being able to come up with anything to say.

He always had something to say.

“What’s wrong?” Opal asks, materializing beside him and setting down a small bowl wrapped up neatly in front of him. Kai watches as the tied handles of the plastic bag fall softly onto his writing hand and only then does he remember where he is. He glances at his friend, hoping she didn’t just catch him slipping, and replaces the pen in his hand with a pair of chopsticks.

“Oh, I’m just trying to write a letter,” he sounds unbothered, but the young Beifong understands.

She eyes the blank parchment pushed off to the side.

"What was the last thing she wrote?"

"Meelo turned eleven the other day," he answers easily, remembering that letter was read five times over in an attempt to conjure a response.

It wasn't even that her letters were poorly written or empty. Despite the fact that she may not have written nearly as often as before, there were definitely still traces of her heart in every piece of parchment sent his way. Her words were still punctuated with a love that just made him miss her more.

They had just been growing...a little distant.

He hated to admit it, but it was just a feeling not quite explainable, when sometimes there was just nothing else to say. And so sometimes he didn't respond at all.

It was unintentional, of course.

"Eleven, huh?” Opal breaks the silence, “I wonder how tall he’s gotten.”

"He's up to her shoulders now."

“Hmmm, well why don't you ask her how all the training is going?”

“I’ve already asked her,” he says, half of his mouth full, “in like every other letter I’ve sent in the last few weeks. Training is great, that doesn’t really change.”

"Training is going great, huh?" she laughs, an attempt to lighten the mood. “That’s not what I remember.”

Kai let out an amused sigh, "it's probably only fun if you're running it."

They recall the training they had to endure before graduating onto traveling the world. To say that it was smooth sailing all the time was quite a stretch. Opal makes a sound of understanding, before swallowing to speak again.

“I’d love to run training with some new airbenders. Doesn’t that sound fun? You always loved showing everyone up at the obstacle course.”

“What?” he feigns modesty, “Please, Opal, you flatter me.”

She chuckles, content with managing to uplift his mood a little. “When do you think you’ll get your tattoos?”

“Oof, I’m not sure,” he answers honestly, twirling a finger to blow air on the hot food. “I think I still have a few techniques to perfect. Master Tenzin isn’t gonna let me off easy just because I showed potential in the beginning. And Jinora says I still have a lot to work on spiritually.”

"You practice though, right?”

Kai waves a hand dismissively, "yeah, when she leads meditation exercises."

“Hah, well I think if you spent more time focusing on meditating instead of staring at her all the time, you’d get more done.”

“Whatever,” Kai blushes, smiling, and hides his face into his food. “Anyway, it can’t be easy teaching that stuff.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to bother you with the stressful parts,” Opal suggests, though it seemed to do more harm than help when her friend makes a sound resembling a scoff.

He recalls the picture perfect image of his girlfriend in his head, a little hazy now, perhaps from the distance. She was always so strong and responsible, it’s definitely easy for someone from the outside to assume Jinora doesn’t bother people with her struggles. But that wasn’t true for him. Around him, her walls crumble. In the beginning it chipped away slowly before tumbling all at once, and there stood Jinora in her rawest, purest form. To an outsider, Jinora was an incredibly talented master airbender fully capable of taking on the same responsibilities her grandfather shouldered in his late days. To Kai, she was a bundle of insecurities densely packed into a fifteen year old girl that, air nation responsibilities aside, just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend.

“She always tells me when something is bothering her.”

Kai sighs into his food before taking another defeated mouthful.

“Letters are tricky,” she watches, amused, as he idly sat there stirring his food around. The last bite is still stuck in his cheek making him look like a distressed squirrel.

“I just miss talking to her. And I mean really talking to her, not this awkward small talk over letters.” He waves his hand through the air lazily, hoping that the movement conveys his frustrations properly.

“So you prefer some good ol’ quality time,” Opal states easily, shifting in her seat. “Nothing wrong with that.”

She earns a smile from her friend, “Yeah, I guess not.”

“Hmm...oh! Can’t she talk to you with her spirit?” Kai stiffens at the suggestion, and she immediately recognizes that she struck a nerve.

“She’s busy, I think.”

“You think?”

A pause.

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ve just felt really disconnected lately.”

He recalls the first time she found him through this connection of theirs since he had left Air Temple Island. It was incredibly relieving to finally get to speak to her and see her face. They talked for hours that night, and he can still remember how badly he wanted to reach out and kiss her. It would have been so easy to, really. To simply reach out and cup her jaw, inching closer until they met in the middle and Jinora would promptly forget what she was going on about. His lips had tingled at the thought.

But he remembers her smile, so alluring and contagious, and not having seen it for months was such a sight for sore eyes. The young airbender’s radiance was simply too distracting to be thinking of anything else. She had finished telling him something, fully aware that at this point he was just looking at her lips with much longing. Jinora must have understood where his train of thought was heading, because the soft laugh at his smitten expression served as the cruel reminder that no matter how much he wanted to or how hard he manifested it, he couldn’t actually just reach out and get what he wanted.

Really, it seemed like that was the only setback to this method of communication.

But he remembers another time she contacted him like this, and told him that her father says she should refrain from abusing this ability for worldly purposes. And above all else, Kai could only remember the sinking feeling of disappointment curdling in his stomach only seconds after she had told him. But this was Jinora, and she had responsibilities. The next few spiritual visits, much to his displeasure, were much shorter. She surprised him, however, as she continued to seek out his presence. Perhaps there was a thrill to the idea of ‘hurry before my father finds out’ that they both seemed to feed off of, but Kai could tell that she was incredibly torn between him and her integrity.

The very thought of Kai being the reason she willingly goes against her very essence: obedient, honorable, and understanding, is painful in itself. And every time she would bid him goodbye and her figure would dissolve into thin air, he was always rudely reminded of how cold and empty these hotel rooms really were.

So he tells her this.

And he watches as the bright smile on her face leaves so quickly and yet so slowly when he says with carefully chosen words, “Maybe we should just stick to writing letters and phone calls.”

At the time, Kai was so sure this was the best course of action, considering this selfless act was supposed to encourage her to focus on her work and not practice defiance. It made sense to remove himself from that equation to preserve her integrity, but at the end of the day it really wasn’t making him feel better at all.

Jinora pauses for a moment, processing his suggestion.

“Right,” she concedes easily, breaking eye contact, “I should go, then. It’s getting late.”

"What?” he blinks, “Why?"

Jinora hesitates, and it feels like she might be giving him a chance to protest and take it back.

He doesn't.

"You're right, and it's late. You should get some rest."

Kai’s heart is in his stomach and he feels every muscle in his body contract painfully as he tries not to panic and do something stupid, like beg her not to leave him. If silence wins this round, then he has no idea when they'll be able to talk again.

Kai seems to find it incredibly difficult to breathe, and he curses his own element for leaving him at a time like this.

“Yeah,” he breathes, unsure of what else to say; his vocal chords seem to be on autopilot. He swallows thickly, feeling his throat click.

What he doesn’t realize is that Jinora had seemed to take this as rejection, her eyebrows meeting ever so slightly as she bites out, “I’ll write to you then.”

“Of course.”

“Good night.”

It’s only when her form flickers a few times before disappearing completely that he snaps back to his senses, her name leaving his throat in a sort of panic. When the light of her spirit is replaced by the darkness of the room again he realizes he’s on his knees, chest heavy.

He doesn’t get a letter for a week and a half.

Opal watches her younger friend marinate in his feelings for a minute before she adds, “I’m sure she misses talking to you too, Kai.”

“But it’s not just that,” he replies, fully aware that she might have just broken the dam that was holding all his feelings together. “I miss spending time with her too. Sometimes we would just sit in silence under her favorite tree while she read a book, or- or whatever. Nothing mattered. Arguments didn’t matter, problems didn’t matter; we knew we could work through anything as long as we were- as long as we were together.

I told her we’d be okay. I told her...ugh, I told her I would understand when she got busier and needed to focus on work, but now I feel like it’s my fault this isn’t working because I’m starting to get a little impatient. This whole thing is just so...so-”

“I know,” Opal responds, stern, but full of understanding when he can’t seem to find the rest of that sentence. "Long distance isn't easy, Kai. I understand."

She offers a bright smile and it seems to get through to him as he visibly relaxes from feeling validated.

"Oh, right."

"Communication is a two way street though," the older Airbender continues, and his stomach twists at the reminder of this recent rift in the relationship that targeted one of the things he thought they had mastered. "Maybe you just need to have a heart to heart conversation in person.”

Now part of Kai craved this solution. The part of him that understood that relationships require effort and craved her understanding. Perhaps a little communication was all they needed to clear the air, but the irrational side of him whispered a little louder in his ear, and turned him to believe that there was a chance that kind of conversation could end this relationship.

He finds himself back at Air Temple Island a week after his talk with Opal, hoping to get to talk to her in between debriefing and work related affairs.

When she sees him in all his cheesy glory (a panda lily in one hand and her favorite tart from the city in the other), it’s incredibly hard not to swoon in front of her pupils in training. Her expression of excitement and the surprise in her tone made it impossible to remember, for a second, that there ever was any tension between them.

Then he remembers the group of airbenders she was in the middle of training, as all eyes were on them, and he promises to meet her in their usual spot that night.

“Hey stranger,” she greets, settling in beside him under the tree. The proximity immediately brought waves of relief and an unmistakable love that they were both awfully aware had been missing for a while.

“You’re late,” he teases.

“No, you’re just early,” she jokes, worming her way underneath his arm and up against his side like it was just where she belonged. “What brings you here on this fine evening?”

“You,” he answers, unable to fight a stupid cheeky smile.

She laughs, and he decides easily that he missed every part of her. "Charming. How have you been?”

“Alright, I guess. Lots of traveling, it gets a little exhausting sometimes.”

“I bet.” Jinora reaches up to play with a stray long fringe of hair that fell to his nose. “Sounds like you’ve been working a lot.”

“It's alright, just a lot to do. If it's not the heavy lifting it's some sort of civilian related crisis. Being on call is pretty taxing."

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she thumps the back of her head against his collarbone as she speaks, “as the only other master here- for now of course- there's so much on my plate. Even if it's split between me and my dad. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep with all the stress.”

"Sounds like you're doing great though," he brushes some hair from her face in return.

"Probably," she grins, and he chuckles.

"So humble."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it! There’s so much to teach these new airbenders and we’re still getting new recruits here and there. I wish I had more time to goof off, like before.”

“Yeah that’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” it's hard to miss the change in his tone, but when she looks up, he's greeted by a warm smile. It was almost impossible to stay in a gloomy mood when Jinora and all her sunshine energy always found the good in situations.

Maybe that’s all he needed.

Jinora too feels warmth blooming in her chest when his eyes find hers.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

There's a comfortable silence that sits with them. A frog croaks nearby, but it's otherwise quiet. It could have been ten or thirty minutes before Jinora finds herself nodding off to sleep, half of her face smushed comfortably against his chest.

Hard to sleep, huh? He chuckles softly at her form. Maybe this was all she needed. Maybe this was all they needed.

Despite her shallow slumber, she notices the way he's fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve and interlocks their fingers to put a stop to the nervous habit.

“Is something bothering you?” Jinora asks, her voice now groggy.

“No, I…” he thinks about it for a second and realizes lying about this wouldn’t solve anything. “I don’t know, Jin, maybe,” he answers truthfully, passively. He only realizes he let the truth slip when her eyes are suddenly on him.

Jinora sits up slowly and faces him, bright and curious eyes prompting him to finish the thought wordlessly. “This just sucks sometimes, that’s all. Being away from you, like, all the time.”

"Then," she hesitates, aware of how selfish what comes next might sound, "come visit more."

He sighs and watches his own hand play with hers. "It's not that easy. Traveling is tiring, in between all of the work I'm assigned."

"Okay, well, what if you came by every time Republic City is on the way?"

"What?” Kai looks down at her, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, “No, it's the same thing, Jinora. The point is to travel as least as possible. Why don't you just talk to me more?"

"What?"

Well, he’s in over his head now, there really is no backing away from what they’ve started. He braces himself, explaining tentatively, “You just…I feel like you haven’t really been trying to keep contact as much...anymore.” Kai desperately hopes she can’t hear the slam of his heart against his chest.

Jinora seems taken aback at this accusation and lifts her eyebrows at him, equal parts bewilderment and confusion. She says the only thing her own aching heart could remember, “You’re the one who said I should stop trying to contact you with my spirit.”

"No, your dad said that. You and I both know it was for the best."

"You don't always write back either, Kai. I just assume you're busy, and that isn’t really fun for me either.”

“I just don’t know what to say sometimes, Jinora,” he confesses easily, exasperated. Kai retracts his hand from hers to run it stressfully through his hair, and it takes all her self control not to protest. The distressed teen takes a long, deep breath before continuing. “You’re also busy. Sometimes I feel like I’m just bothering you with my small talk.”

"Me too," her gaze is hard and challenging. He considers surrender for a second.

“You’re not bothering me,” Jinora says easily, tone softening. “I don’t need to have long, deep talks with you all the time. Sometimes, just...this, is really nice. This is enough.”

“I know,” Kai sighs, “but we can’t always have this.”

“Then I don’t know,” the young master breaks eye contact. “It's just been a lot to handle lately.” Her posture straightens and she suddenly feels miles farther from him.

'Is this too much to handle then?' he wants to ask, but the fear of any possible confirmation has a solid death grip on his throat, so he says nothing. Jinora continues.

"I can't just call you when I don't actually know where you're stationed. I figured you knew that."

“So it’s my fault?” he asks, suddenly painfully aware of how defensive and childish he may sound. For a second, he doesn’t care, frustration now at a high.

Guilt hits him for a second, and he almost doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Isn't this what he wanted to begin with? He wanted a face to face conversation. He wanted to be close to her, to hold her, to properly hear her voice again. Kai knew that he wanted a deep conversation to make up for the painful small talk they’ve been having for too long, but now that she's pouring her frustrations out, he doesn't seem to be catching them very well.

“I never said that!” she mirrors this spike in energy. The guilt is put on hold. “I’m just saying-”

"Okay, so how is me compromising even more on my side fair?"

"I don't think you want to start a conversation about what's fair."

"Why not? I'm doing everything I can, running around the world trying to do my job, so that it's easier for you to just stay here and-”

"Stay here?" She looks so taken aback by this, her cool slipping away as quickly as his. "You think I'm just hanging out at home while you do all the dirty work? I am doing everything I can to make your job easier and it...it really sucks, it's so much harder than it needs to be!"

Kai watches quietly as his mentor’s nostrils flare and realizes he doesn't think he's ever really seen her angry at him before. Last time he saw her raise her voice was at her dad regarding the whole master tattoos situation four years ago.

He wants to choose his next words carefully, aware that he might be walking on thin ice.

But there’s something endearing about the way she looks when she’s upset with him. Like the pout that decorates her usually bright features was just begging to be kissed away, and her seemingly distant posture is asking to be held close.

“Why are you smiling?” she asks, obviously trying to fight getting infected by his contagious smile.

Kai reaches up tentatively, encouraged when she allows the contact. He tilts her face upward and taps the underside of her chin once, charming her instantly with that stupid signature grin of his. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.”

Jinora, now flustered, swats his hand away playfully.

"What’s harder than it needs to be?” he asks gently, delighted and relaxed when she lets him hold her hand again.

"That I just miss you. A lot. All the time."

Her eyes find him in the dim light, and it’s clear how brightly they shine in all her passion and emotion. The urge to lean in and kiss her was strong. It would be an easy temporary fix, Kai ponders. She misses him and he misses her, at least that fact was reinstated and it wasn’t an entirely unproductive conversation. He could kiss her goodnight, and it would be in the past. But still, the question of ‘what now’ still lingered, and alas, Kai knew this needed to be solved now.

“So, what then?” he resigns, sitting up to match her, allowing an entire wall of tension to build itself between the thirty centimeters between them, a growing chasm of adolescent feelings and assumptions.

"I don't know," she admits, and it seems more frustrating than it should be. She's Jinora, she always knows. "It's getting harder to balance everything in my life, and it just feels like you’re telling me that I’m not doing enough.”

“I never said that," he retreats, unable to deny that maybe he might have selfishly made it seem that way to her. "I just can’t seem to communicate with you well enough anymore.”

Jinora thinks about the time she had talked to Korra about why it didn’t work out between her and Mako, and the thought of her own relationship’s demise having the same cause shot fear up and down her spine. More than anything, all Jinora wanted to do was resume her rightful place beside him and stargaze in blissful ignorance.

Except now the night sky felt hot, or maybe it was just her that was feeling incredibly heated.

“I love you," she says softly, the way she looks at the ground makes her miss the look on his face when he’s taken aback for a second. “But we can’t just keep goofing off and putting feelings first...and expecting things to be fixed only when I get to see you.”

“You know how I feel about you, is it not enough?” she seemed to say with her eyes.

Her unspoken words seemed to clash with his own, “It really took you five years to outgrow me, huh?”

“Maybe this,” he gestures to the space between them instead, which now felt like a ravine, “this just isn’t…”

He knows it’s a last resort, because he’s just not sure how to deal with these things or his feelings regarding them, because it’s the first time in a long time he was faced with losing something he genuinely cared about. Maybe it’s wrong to file an empty threat, but the child inside him hopes she will deny this vehemently and everything can just go back to normal.

Nevermind the fact that it was selfish and irresponsible. Nevermind the fact that she looked like maybe she was on the brink of tears too.

Dejected, and out of things to say, Kai licks his lips and lets out a defeated sigh. Jinora watches him with wet eyes, her own panic building up behind the dam she so meticulously built.

Jinora, unsure of how to handle this either, (fifteen and an airbending master, but an overwhelmed teenager on the verge of heartbreak nonetheless), does what comes naturally to an airbender, and disengages gracefully.

“You have to be up early tomorrow,” she tells him through the panic, and he searches her words and her eyes for any hint of emotion to mirror the pain that's threatening at his heart.

“Okay,” he hopes she didn’t just hear his voice crack. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah," she keeps her eyes on the ground between them. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Kai moves to get up hesitantly but she stops him: grabs him by the hand and he feels the frantic nature of her actions. He understands her panic- she tells him with just one look- and when he sits back down she assumes her spot in his side.

He’s not sure if it took her twenty minutes or two hours to fall asleep beside him. But the way they clung to each other spoke volumes of how neither of them wanted to let go. In the time that she was dozing off he had enough time to contemplate what comes next, but the cycle of his thoughts seemed inconclusive.

It was refreshing to deal with this in person, yes, because it was easier to understand the mess of emotions this way. But instead of feeling like they can handle anything else that comes their way after this, Kai is left dreading the time he’d have to spend away from her again and the tension that it brings.

“Jinora,” he calls to her quietly, already apprehensive of what has to happen. She stirs slightly. “Let’s go, you can’t fall asleep out here.”

Reluctantly, they walk back to her room. The silence was both comforting and off-putting.

Half asleep, Jinora turns around to bid him good night when they reach her door, and Kai takes a mental picture of this for the road: the love of his life, blissfully unaware of anything but him, eyes half lidded, the soft light of her room behind her inviting him in.

He leans in to kiss her gingerly, resolving to let future Kai and future Jinora deal with this tomorrow.

She pulls him closer by the collar, an apology on her lips that he doesn’t need to hear to understand, and he returns the gesture.

It leaves a growing, comforting heat in his stomach and burns an important question within:

Was this a break up after all?

If anything, the next morning weighed much heavier on both of their hearts. His one knapsack in hand ready to go, Kai sighs and turns around to face her.

“Did you sleep?” she asks, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes.

“Not much,” he says truthfully, and notices she looks just as tired. “Did you?”

“No,” Jinora confesses, playfully jabbing at his chest. “You woke me up.”

He wonders for a second if she would have slept soundly, had they stayed outside together. The thought gets dismissed easily.

“Where are you headed?” She asks, and she watches him fidget with the bag in his hand. Her own hands itch to reach out to him, to pull him close and selfishly keep him here.

“I’m not sure. I was supposed to talk to your dad about it but he was in a meeting this morning.”

Jinora responds with a simple, “oh,” and she wonders if it was still possible to undo all the damage.

“Last chance to tell me not to go,” he looks down at her surprised expression, tired eyes wondering if she really could see past this lame attempt to disguise the pain with humor.

It was half a joke, half lame attempt at trying to confirm if they split up or not.

"It's a little late for that." She watches as a familiar look of pain wriggles into his expression very subtly, in a way only he can disguise but only she can decipher. Jinora’s mouth twitches into a bitter smile, humoring him. “Don’t go," she says softly, her tone matching his.

He doesn't expect the joke to have such an effect on him. So in a panic he plays along.

“Alas, it’s too late m’lady.” he staggers backward slightly, hand over his heart like one of those chumps in her favorite fictional novels. She giggles, and he thinks perhaps he can at least engrave the sound in his mind for the road. Who knows how long he can hold out without the sound of her voice. “Duty calls,” he says, half joking, half biting.

And then she grabs his hand, turning the air into a more serious one once again. “Kai...I-”

“Okay, Kai!” Ikki’s voice cuts through like a knife out of nowhere. “Daddy says your next assignment is in-- oh...uh…”

“Ikki…” Her sister’s scowl seems to be enough to scare her away. They look down at their hands and suddenly the younger sibling understands what's happening.

He squeezes her hand back, bringing her attention back to him. “I’m sorry,” he says simply, certain that she understands exactly what he’s apologizing for, because maybe he’s not so sure anymore himself.

Thoughts in his head are running a hundred miles per hour as he leans in to kiss her goodbye out of pure muscle memory. But her wide eyes and hesitation served as a heavy reminder of their conversation last night and perhaps the final confirmation he was looking for.

It's the exact moment his heart breaks-- shatters, and he wonders if she can hear it too. The weight of her actions causes him to stumble a bit, and instead he switches directions to place an innocent kiss on her cheek, aware of her entire family now in proximity.

And as he steps back tentatively to leave indefinitely this time, she lets go of his hand.

Hiraeth settles in quickly and lingers far longer than Kai wants it to. Far longer than Jinora expects it to. And now that this distance feels so much worse than it ever has, they both wonder if it was really that bad before.

He avoids returning to Air Temple Island, fully aware that there is always a ninety nine percent chance she’d be there. Instead, he sends letters and telegrams to Tenzin regarding work, but always finds a quick witted excuse to avoid an in person visit (because if nothing else, he’s good at weaseling his way out of things, right?).

But with this active avoidance comes the grief of letting go of this home that filled a huge void in his life. The hospitality he received as a new member of the air nation family was incredibly cathartic, making it more and more difficult to remember what it felt like to be alone on the streets by himself. For the first time in his life, he felt loved and accepted enough to change his ways. And now the mere thought of returning to the very place that molded him toward the best version of himself made Kai’s stomach twist up in indecipherable knots.

Instead, Kai thinks maybe he should finally really take this airbending master thing seriously and work a little harder toward those tattoos. There really was no better time than post-heartbreak to focus on his spiritual growth, emotions now thrown into the void. Nevertheless, he wishes he had the luxury of being home. Of being comfortable, and surrounded by loved ones and familiar faces in the midst of stressful work.

Jinora, meanwhile, focuses on training the rest of the airbenders and stays rooted in the Island, with a small hope that maybe he would return eventually.

The first few weeks were the hardest for the late Avatar’s granddaughter.

There was a window of time in which perhaps she could expect a call or a letter saying everything was fine. But the longer she waited, the more it hurt to know that it wouldn’t come. Nevermind the small speck of hope that lingered, unsolicited. It was during a particularly difficult meditation session that she decided perhaps it was time to let that hope go.

Despite the distance and space she was given (to heal, in theory), it was more frustrating than anything to know she couldn't reach out to him even if she wanted to.

She envied his freedom, the luxury of keeping busy in new towns and meeting new people instead of being constantly reminded of their past everywhere she looked. His ghost seemed to haunt the island, eliciting some longing even she couldn’t dispel with meditation.

This was her home, the physical location in which she had grown up. Here, her family resided and now the extension of it too. So why did she feel like a large undeniable part of her heart, her home, wasn't here?

It takes Jinora almost a year to decide that perhaps this pain should have left by now. That maybe it wasn’t just a brief period of grief that would eventually pass. Maybe the connection Korra mentioned between them ages ago was more than they cared to believe at the time. Jinora would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried to project her spirit to him within the last year. Sometimes the longing was so strong, she let the best of the urge get to her. It was always to no avail, however, considering they hadn’t spoken in a while.

It’s on a particularly overwhelming day of work when Jinora hears the phone’s incessant ringing. When her father’s voice sounds from downstairs for her to take the call, she almost wants to smash the telephone.

“Hello?”

There’s a long pause from the other side, but before she can repeat herself, his voice startles her. “Jinora?”

She physically feels her heart drop seven levels into her stomach, and she wonders if he’ll buy it if she says it’s Ikki speaking.

“Kai,” she says his name, just as she had last said a year ago.

“Hey,” he chuckles nervously. “Sorry, I was expecting your dad.”

“Oh,” she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Uh, I can go get him-”

“No, it’s...it’s ok, I just…” he trails off, unable to tell her that this was actually a pleasant surprise. “I was just calling to report in.”

“Okay,” she bites her lip, fully aware that she looks like a flustered schoolgirl with the phone in her hands as if her life depended on it. “Shoot.”

“Right, well uh, there were some bad guys the other day. The usual. I mean not really the usual, it’s-it’s a safe town. Supposed to be safe, err, you know with us there. Ugh…"

She tries not to laugh at his fumbling, but ultimately fails.

"Don't laugh!" he says, almost whiny, but she can hear the smile in his voice and it makes her feel inexplicably happy. "I'm usually more professional than this!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, it's easier talking to your dad."

"It's easier talking to my dad," she repeats to make sure he hears how ridiculous that sounds, "really."

"Yes! Or, I don't know! Sorry, I just, argh…"

"Kai, relax, it's just me," she reminds him, feeling a wave of warmth from the familiarity. Hopefully he feels it too.

He pauses, unsure, but then it clicks.

"Right, yeah," and suddenly the nervous panic in his stomach is easily replaced with the familiar feeling, "it's just you."

She gives him a moment to recompose himself. How considerate, he muses, no wonder he's still smitten.

“So bad guys."

And then he launches into a story, far more comfortably than if he had to report to Tenzin. The conversation takes detour after detour, and it must have been forty minutes or so when Ikki intrudes.

“Who are you on the phone with? Dad’s asking. And mom wants to know when you’re coming down for dinner.”

Jinora’s attention is then split in half, waving her sister’s inquiries off.

“What? I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Ikki teases, cocking her head to feign confusion like the menace she is as she watches her sister mouth words demanding her to leave. She faintly hears the sound of a boy on the phone and her smirk grows tenfold.

“Jinora, stop trying to shoo me away, I know Kai’s on the line, but-” but she’s cut off when her sister shoves her out the door gracefully with a small gust of air. Ikki looks absolutely offended.

“Okay, whatever,” the younger sister shrugs, “you can tell mom and dad I tried.”

“Why are you still up anyway, it’s late!” Jinora calls out to her sister as she closes the door, and it slips her mind that she was also speaking into the phone.

“Oh, uh, yeah...sorry,” she hears him suddenly sound apprehensive. “I guess it is.”

“What?" Panic surges through her quickly. "Oh, no...I-”

“No, it’s okay, you’re right, it’s late.”

“I was talking to Ikki, I-”

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“Yeah.”

The silence that follows is full of awkward remorse for how the nice conversation was soiled so clumsily on both sides. Kai almost wants to laugh.

“Okay, well,” he is the first to break the silence, his voice cracking a little. She tries not to laugh. “It’s late, you should really get some rest.”

“Right, you too.”

A few seconds pass, but neither of them hang up.

“Sorry I called so late-”

“No no, it’s fine!” she blurts, and he tries to stop the smile. “It was nice talking to you.”

She hears him smile through the phone. “Yeah, likewise. Good night, Jin,” and her heart flutters at the nickname she hadn’t heard in a year. Jinora bites her lip hard and hopes he can’t hear the smile in her voice.

“Good night, Kai.”

It's frustrating.

Two months after that accidental phone call and he still feels a smile sneak its way onto his lips whenever it comes to mind. But nothing else really came from it -- not another letter or call or spirit-y visit -- and he wonders if he should just assume that was some form of closure and move on.

Kai understands that blowing off some steam is a little harder for an airbender that can’t just be picking fights wherever they see fit. So the next best outlet is playing vigilante, he reasons, as he crouches atop a billboard sign and eyes a shady looking fellow following a nobleman.

It reminds him a little- or a lot- of his past. It looked pathetic, prompting him to unpack that mess, and for a second the urge to assist this heist flared in his gut.

Kai loses his balance and falls backward from the intrusive thought, rattling the metal of the billboard frame and subsequently catching the attention of the thief. The eye contact shot panic up his spine as they both fled the scene immediately. Only once it was quiet again did he catch his breath and realize perhaps it wasn’t the running that winded him.

The young airbender settles in his room at the inn, exhausted and irritable. He opens a fortune cookie from some takeout he picked up along the way. It says some whimsical nonsense about soulmates and connected feelings, rambling about how if you think about someone a lot it’s probably a mutual thing.

“Whatever,” he throws it off to the side.

He had no idea who he was without any of the comfort he had associated with his new home with the Air Nation, without Jinora.

The time and space within the last year did a fine job of helping him understand exactly what she meant to him.

Before she came along he barely had anything. A name, yes, but that was it. Harmonic convergence gave his life a purpose, but she gave it meaning -- something to fight for. And now the line between those three things is blurred and he’s not so sure anymore what he’s fighting for.

Kai misses home. Not the place he was born, or the foster home that had tried to adopt him as a kid, but the island: every nook and cranny he had spent years exploring with his best friend. He misses the simplicity of the time, when they had more time together waiting for Korra’s return. He misses the way Tenzin would send a warning glare in his direction every time it looked like he was getting a little too friendly with his daughter.

A small part of him misses the past; the only thing he seemed to take with it anymore was the airbending. Which really, was a blessing! But if he cares to admit it, he might miss the thrill of being a carefree thief. And after the incident, it’s clear that returning to that life is just not an option anymore. The idea isn’t even appealing, but nostalgia has a way of grabbing people ruthlessly by the throat and launching them into a time where they thought they were happier.

He misses the days when training was far easier and he was ahead; these days the spiritual training was so much harder than being able to finish the obstacle course in record time, and now he constantly thought he was falling behind. He misses Korra and Mako and Bolin and Master Tenzin and Opal.

He misses Jinora the most, and considers calling the island again and hoping she’ll pick up like last time.

One year was definitely enough time to be alone with his thoughts and deal with everything on his own. He wonders if she would welcome him back with open arms. The fact that this whole dilemma might have created a scar that would be hard to mend fueled the hesitation.

The young airbender sighs, resigning to meditation.

But it seems more difficult to concentrate today, despite the silence that surrounds him. His mind insists on drifting to Jinora, and he wonders briefly if Tenzin would hand the phone over to her if he asked nicely.

But what would he even say?

Before he can consider it any further, out of nowhere in the center of his room, Jinora’s spirit materializes and scares the absolute shit out of him.

“Jinora?” the way her name slips out of his mouth unintended has him wondering how long they really were apart.

“Hi.”

“What are you…” then he shifts gears, asking instead what he’s wanted to know forever. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the Southern Water Tribe, visiting my grandmother,” she answers easily, and it’s like they never broke up at all.

"How are you…” he hesitates, but asks honestly, “How did you find me?”

She looks flustered, though it’s hard to tell without the signature pink that adorns her cheeks whenever she blushes. “Did you not want me to?”

“No no! That’s not it. You just haven’t done this in a while." He chuckles nervously, but he's happy nonetheless. "Guess I just wasn't expecting it."

“I know. I guess I just felt really connected to you tonight.”

The sudden spike in his ego made this a lot easier. “Missed me that much, huh?”

She looks like she wants to punch him in the shoulder.

“You must have missed me just as much.”

“I did,” he says easily, reveling in the way she breaks eye contact, blushing, to recompose herself. “I mean, I do.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Look-”

“Listen,”

“Oh, sorry,” he sits up.

“No, it’s ok, you go first.”

Kai’s hand shoots up to the back of his neck instinctively, suddenly aware of his own heartbeat. He pauses and shifts directions.

“Are you...still mad at me?”

“What?” the look of genuine surprise catches them both off guard. “I was never angry, Kai. I thought you were.”

“Oh, right,” his face contorts at the memory. “No, Jin, I was just being stupid.”

"Is that why…" the question dies on her tongue, and he raises an eyebrow at her hesitation.

"Is that why what?"

She eyes him tentatively but it doesn't look like he wants to drop it. "Is that why you haven't come back to Air Temple Island? You thought I was angry?"

Embarrassment washes over the young nomad. Of course she thought about this while he was gone. And now he doesn't even have a good reason.

"I...yeah, a little." He confesses. And when she laughs, his face fills with indignation. "What's so funny?"

"Me, mad at you?" She says, as if stating it would make it easier for him to understand how ridiculous it sounds.

"I mean, yeah." Kai looks at her in all seriousness, and Jinora is reminded of how real their relationship was. How much he really saw her for who she was, flaws and all. "I can act like a real ass sometimes. As patient as you are, I know I messed up."

She grants him a look, as if he had just answered a question correctly. "I suppose.”

"What about you? Why did you only decide to contact me now?"

A faint blush adorned her cheeks, despite her figure being translucent. Jinora takes a deep breath. Kai waits patiently.

"When I was younger, I found an injured bird just outside my window. Mom and dad told me I was very generous to have spent a week or so nursing it back to health. When his wings healed, mom told me I had to let him go, because he was ready to see the world again on his own. As selfish as it seemed, I really wanted to keep him; named him and everything.

"Every time you left for an indefinite amount of time, I always wondered if I was just keeping you here with me, like I did with the bird. If you wanted freedom, I knew I couldn't really give that to you. So...I just let you go."

"Jinora…" she watches as he seems to be at a loss for words.

She lets him sit in his thoughts for a couple minutes, thankful that the silence was not at all uncomfortable.

When he speaks again, it's not as graceful as he planned. “I guess...I’ve had some time to think about it,” he fumbles, and decides to start from the beginning.

“When you saved me from the earth queen's prison back then, I started seeing you differently. You were like a light in my really fucked up life. And I love that...I love you. I still do."

He revels in the way she blushes at this confession, but ultimately finds himself too flustered to maintain eye contact too.

"But then I got really selfish, and I hurt you because of it." Kai looks down, frustrated with himself, but Jinora knows he still has more to say. So she moves closer and her spirit takes a seat beside him. "I know I can't just keep you all to myself. You're not just the light in my life, but to the world too."

She giggles, delighted at his little speech, "That was corny."

"Yeah, well," he scratches the back of head, half flustered, half proud, "I try."

"Kai," she brings his attention back to her, and remembers how much he loves the way his name sounded from her lips. "I'm sorry you felt that way. I got so caught up in work, I lost sight of other things that were just as important to me."

Kai watches her, enamoured by the way Jinora shyly bites her lip and pours out her heart to him.

"I’m sorry I left. I didn't think it sent that sort of message to you."

She laughs softly, and it illuminates the room. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Ugh, Jinora…" Kai runs both hands down his face, both embarrassed and relieved.

"I've had some time to talk to my grandmother. She told me that Great Uncle Sokka also had a long distance relationship.” The late Avatar’s descendant twirled her thumbs, suddenly looking bashful. “It's never easy."

"It just takes a little work, I guess…I mean," Kai winces at the way he just started speaking without thinking this time.

But there was no turning back now. She waits patiently, but anxiously for his next words. This was it, now or never.

"If you're willing…"

Jinora's eyes widen and her heart skips a beat at the implication written all over his face.

"Of course I am."

And just like before, like nothing had changed, he watches her smile and almost wants to scold himself for how ridiculous and pining he must look wanting to reach out and smother her spirit with affection.

“I hate that I can’t kiss you right now,” he blurts, and Jinora laughs.

“Come home then,” she says, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

Jinora does welcome him back with open arms, to answer his question. With her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her entire being so eager to have him back. She smells sweet and familiar and suddenly Kai feels stupid for ever thinking letting this go was the right choice.

He holds her just as tightly, as if to let her know this was real, that he was real. And he feels a thousand pounds lighter when he tells her quietly, lovingly, “I’m home.”

She smiles against his neck, and he doesn’t need to see it to know.

“Welcome home.”

#the legend or korra #legend of korra #lok #tlok #kai #jinora #kainora #kai x jinora #jinora x kai #korra fanfiction #kainora fanfiction #i never know what else to tag my stuff

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tessatechaitea · 4 years ago

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Justice Society of America #4 (1992)

Ultrahumanite exhibits all the characteristics of a man happy to be reunited with friends: cheerily laughing, bright happy expression, hands on hips, weirdly-shaped massive hard-on.

Forgive me for the erect penis joke but I felt it was in the tradition of Grunion Guy. You might find it funny if you knew how uncomfortable it made me to type it and how worried I was for a second that my mother might see it. But then I realized that if my mom saw it, it would mean my mom read Grunion Guy's blog, and then I almost threw up. That would be so embarrassing! Normally I would be on the side of the Justice Society of America because they are the good people with the good values. But how good are their good values if they are trying to stop a job creator and upstanding corporate citizen like Ultrahumanite who is just trying to run his Ultragen business the best way he knows how: with stormtrooper bodyguards to defend labs where they experiment on animal-human hybrids? Anything that hurts corporate profits is a bad thing for capitalism and the Justice Society of America should know that, being that they have "America" right there in their name. Although they also have "Society" in their name and that is a bird whistle for socialists. The bird whistle is the dog whistle of the left because it is more pleasant to listen to and it isn't aggravating or obnoxious and it makes the world a better place for everybody (except people who hate birds and probably own guns to shoot those stupid birds. Stupid birds. So dumb).

Oh no! Nobody warned these old timers that we aren't doing prison rape jokes anymore!

Wildcat has some great words of wisdom in that previous panel. It is the most scienciest science statement I have ever read (unless it was the mathiest math statement): "If X did not happen, Y would have happened! Thusly I have proved we are better than you! QED! In your face, Ultrahumanite!" Whenever I would lose a game of Dungeons & Dragons with my friends Bullpup and McGroover, I would say, "Oh yeah? Let's see you make a delicious sandwich!" Then they would back down and they would be all, "Yes, you are correct, Pickle Boy. You are the better friend with the most useful skills and we are only good at pretending to slaughter Kobold families for copper coins." That's pretty funny if you realize Dungeons & Dragons is about adventurers invading the lairs of creatures to steal their material possessions! Doctor Mid-Nite does not quip with the others because he might be dead. Do not forget these guys are really old! It does not matter how many muscles they have or what kind of cardio breathalyzer tests they can pass; they still have super old bones and a lifetime of clogged arteries. One slip or the slightest bit of extra exertion could mean Stroke City or Brokenhipsville for these cool cats! That is old person slang! It is very humorous!

Now they goof on his stutter? I am beginning to wonder who the real villains are in this story!

Look how happy the Ultrahumanite is! And these old guys have been nothing but bitter, cynical old winds from the butt! Plus he is a successful businessman and scientist who has created life! It sounds like he has turned over a new leaf now that he no longer has to steal bodies. I am not ignoring the laboratory full of hybrid creatures; I'm just going to assume that they were all volunteers until it is proven otherwise. You cannot go through life never eating the buttered bread that fell on the floor buttered side down! Ultrahumanite decides to recount his past for some reason. This made me laugh because I was thinking, "Yeah! They are old men. They cannot remember stuff from so long ago and also they have enlarged prostates!"

But which is actually worse: making fun of somebody's disability or sympathizing with Nazis? I've got some hard questions to answer!

Some things are unforgivable but one thing I think we can all agree to forgive is a hot woman who sided with the Nazis.

How does a huge ape body reflect the Ultrahumanite's desires? Please do not answer, "He loves to copulate with monkeys," because that's what I an suggesting by the question and you would look like one of those fools on Twitter who thinks they are hilarious by restating somebody's joke in a less subtle manner.

Ultrahumanite continues to explain how he became such a pillar of the business community. It is as boring as you would expect a PowerPoint presentation from a business man would be. That was probably the joke! Why is not the trademarked name "PowerPoint" two words? If you are going to bother capitalizing the second "P", you might as well just separate the words. Maybe it was somebody's online name when they were fourteen years old. It is always a smart decision to just run the two words together rather than separating them with an underscore. And it is easier to read when the second word is capitalized (as opposed to every other word capitalized or just the consonants. I do not understand young people). Nobody remembers to put underscores in when searching for a name online!

"Ultrahumanite! You are experimenting on innocent people, ruining the environment, causing unknown amounts of damage to the populace of every city where one of your labs operates but Ted Grant and the world just want to know one thing: was that hot Nazi body the real you because 'Rrrrrow!'"

You think I am making a joke but I don't joke about things that I don't joke about and one of those things is that Ted Grant has previously expressed interest in cultivating an intimate relationship with hot Nazi Ultrahumanite. Specifically, he said earlier that she "swept him off his feet." He only used that phrase so Al could make a joke about how they were hanging upside down so the sweeping off of feet is still happening. But I think, in his heart, he wanted to say, "She made me spontaneously become a man every time we wrestled. Is that okay under the Hays Code? Can I get away with that amount of innuendo?!" The Ultrahumanite has to go deal with The Flash who has literally suddenly appeared. Weird how the word "literally" is never actually needed when it is used properly. I guess using it in a hyperbolic and exaggerated fashion is really its only job. While Ultrahumanite is gone, Doctor Mid-Nite "double joints" his wrists to escape. I'm pretty sure Grunion Guy's wrists were double jointed by the amount of times he wrote about masturbating. He was a crude jerk but I still hope he rests in peace in that pauper's cemetery down by the toxic sludge factory. Doctor Mid-Nite takes on the guards while The Atom and Wildcat rush out to save The Flash who is The Flash and almost certainly does not need saving. While Doctor Mid-Nite is beating up the guards, he suddenly becomes a stand up comedian. Was I wrong to assume he was an actual doctor? Is that just his stage persona? I would tell you why his jokes were funny if they were but I cannot figure them out. Why is this an old joke (and if it is, why would he even retell it when it is nonsense): "I know you're out there because I can hear you breathing"? The Flash gets encased in some living green goo that absorbs heat and kinetic energy which might also be a definition of heat? I'm just a sandwich maker slash writer's assistant who has never once showed an ounce of curiosity about the real world so forgive me for languishing in my ignorance. At least I own a thesaurus. Back in Gotham City, Jesse Quick appears for a page or two to remind everybody that she exists. "Hello! I am the hot daughter of the infomercial guy! I have also deluded myself into believing a mathematical equation gives me super speed! It makes no sense!" Jesse takes some papers proving that Ultragen is breaking laws so the JSA has the right to beat the crap out of its CEO. For comedic effect, they have a little more confusion over Ultrahumanite's pronouns (which, to be fair, he has not expressed any preference for and doesn't seem to mind using whatever pronouns match the gender he seems to be expressing) before rushing off to punch her in the face. I don't know what pronouns to use either but she was a super hot Nazi so let's just go with that one.

See? She is a scientific genius!

At first I was all, "Oh, big deal! So The Flash is trapped in goo!" And then the Ultrahumanite was all, "You cannot breathe without oxygen!" And then I was all, "Oh no! I had not thought of that! Somebody save him, preferably an old guy from the JSA or I will feel cheated out of my hard earned buck twenty-five." I keep laughing at that previously scanned panel and how Wildcat and The Atom are hiding behind trees the way characters do in comic strips. So ridiculous! It is even funnier if you remember that they are old men! I bet you are laughing a lot more now! Doctor Mid-Nite arrives because he "smoke bombed" with his previous stand-up gig. Get it?! If you understood the play on the word "bomb" there and that I meant the fight against the guards when I said "stand-up gig," you would be cracking up like crazy!

Yeah. A smoke bomb! We all know that is where he keeps them!

The Flash breaks free and Doctor Mid-Nite punches Ultrahumanite in the nose, breaking it. Ultrahumanite is so vain that he falls to the ground, defeated! And that is when the Calvary arrives! That is funny because I used the wrong word and now you are picturing a crucified Jesus riding up on a horse to save the day instead of Green Lantern, The Flash, and Jesse Quick arriving on a Green Lantern construct! Justice Society of America #4 Rating: A. I have not read as many comic books as Grunion Guy but this one seemed pretty good in comparison to the ones I have read, like WildC.A.T.S. #1 and pick any issue you want of Youngblood. One more "What gender is Ultrahumanite?!" joke for the road!

Alan felt this was the kind of thing a heterosexual would say. It's funny because he "New 52" comes out of the closet later!

#Justice Society of America #DC Comics #DC #Len Strazewski #Mike Parobeck #Mike Machlan

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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How Far I'll Go - Chapter 4 (Nina West/Monet X Change) - Meggie, Mia Ugly

A/N: This chapter was getting out of hand (pushing 13k and not even close), so we decided to split it so we can get out an update and not have to worry about mincing words as we finish up the second half of the chapter. This one is still lengthy (9k)!

Prior – Nina and Vanjie ended up in the top during the first episode, with Vanjie taking the first win of AS5.

To come – Nina learns a secret, shares a secret, and has a realization.

Chapter Four - never looked at me this way before

Nina wakes up and is still on Drag Race.

It is an ungodly hour and he barely remembers his head hitting the pillow; they filmed a bunch of talking head interviews after the runway, and wrote letters for Laganja, and de-dragged and ate what little takeout they could stomach at one a.m. It’s only two days in and he feels the exhaustion in his bones, but Good God Girl is he happy that he survived the first elimination. Not only survived, but was in the top two. Got to dance it out against Vanjie, got to watch Monet in the audience, smiling all white and shiny like some sort of monster (he’s got to know the effect he has, right? Has to know).

Nina forces himself out of bed with a not entirely silent groan, tries to immerse himself in his Disney princess fantasy where little bluebirds are singing to him, fluttering around helping him get ready, bringing him his towel and razor and - actually, bluebirds armed with razor blades might not be exactly Disney’s brand. He can workshop that bit.

He showers, shaves, tries to dress quickly. He wanted his Werk Room aesthetic to be a bit less “quirky elementary school teacher” this season, but when he looks over his choice of boy clothes, he realizes that that just might be his actual aesthetic - on TV or off. Damn. Well, whatever. He’ll never be Vanjie, fashion-wise, but at least he’s not Brooke.

Nina gathers his things in a hurry because he wants to get downstairs for breakfast before the rest of the girls invade. It (probably) has nothing to do with the fact that the mentors meet fifteen minutes before the contestants come down to get their briefing for the day’s challenges. He’s (probably) not trying to run into Monet.

Things are decidedly less awkward after they hugged it out on the runway and even danced a little. Monet had his hands on Nina’s hips for a moment there, said how proud of him he was (and damn it, that lights something up in Nina that he doesn’t want to look at too closely). Even though he hadn’t won the lip-sync, even though Vanjie essentially wiped the stage with him, Monet was proud. Happy he’d chosen Nina to be an X-Queen.

Something dangerous could be brewing if Nina were going downstairs early just because he wanted to bump into Monet this morning, try to make him laugh because that smile is just - something else, or find out how he takes his coffee or -

But Nina isn’t. So it’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Just peachy.

Nina bounces on his toes as he presses the call button for the elevator and waits. He feels good, more relaxed. Getting past the first episode is hardest; no one wants to be the first one out (unless you’re Vanessa, then you take that shit and run with it). And he has a trip to the Bahamas under his belt. That’s something to look forward to. He’ll take his drag mother, maybe; it’s not like they’ll let him substitute the dogs for a Plus One.

The elevator dings and Nina, still lost in thoughts of sandy beaches and the hot sun on his shoulders, takes a second to recognize the couple wrapped around each other in the back corner. Probably wouldn’t have recognized them at all, given how smashed together they are - a gasping, moaning, many-limbed organism - except for the fact that they immediately pull away from each other, looking wide-eyed with panic at the elevator doors.

“Oh.” Nina tries his best to maintain a neutral expression as he gets into the elevator and turns conspicuously around. “So I guess you guys are speaking again.”

Brooke and Vanjie are silent behind him. Nina counts down the floors. After all that weirdness yesterday, they’ve apparently - worked things out. Or something. Nina is not in the headspace to think about it right now.

Eventually Brooke clears his throat, says “Good morning,” like he’s Nina’s manager at work or something.

“Yep, hi, good -” Nina says, just as the elevator lands on the ground floor with a thump. Nina steps out without waiting for the two of them (because he has first-hand knowledge of being mortified in elevators and knows that the last thing you want is company) and walks briskly to the conference room.

The mentors are just finishing their meeting and starting breakfast. Production thinks it’s fair to let them have meals together, but the P.A.s are never far away, making sure none of the competitors get an unfair advantage from too much early information.

Trixie’s tapping away at her cell phone with one hand and shoveling cereal into her mouth with the other. Vanjie hadn’t been kidding when he said Trixie was always on the grind. Nina’s half impressed by her dedication to be working at 7:30 in the morning and half - concerned? Maybe he’s glad Trixie passed him over during the draft.

Monet is staring down a plate of pancakes, but he looks up and smiles when Nina comes into the room.

“Bubble Guns!” Monet calls, and Nina can only assume he’s being summoned. (Because, logically, no one else carried bubble guns into the Werk Room during their entrance. And, logically, who else would Monet be talking to? Nina’s the first to arrive other than the mentors and the crew.) “See hos, this is what a winner looks like. You all might wanna have a word with your girls about it.”

“I think my girls are good, thanks,” Trixie says deadpan, without looking up from her phone. There is a crease between her eyebrows and - now that Nina really sees her, she looks extremely tired.

“Bubble Guns?” Nina asks because he can’t not mention that.

“Just trying it out. Officially you’re still Jean Grey, this is more like a pet name. Like honey or snookums. You like it?”

“Nope,” Nina says quickly, and Monet laughs. Nina files that laugh away for when he needs it. There’s something about the low husk of Monet’s voice that makes him get all - distracted. Yeah, let’s go with distracted. And that’s the last thing he can afford to be right now, but sometimes it’s easy to forget -

His attention shifts as Brooke comes into the conference room, followed by Vanjie thirty seconds later. Vanjie’s mouth is swollen, and Brooke’s neck is red and blotchy from beard-burn. It all seems incredibly, stupidly obvious to Nina but then, he’s working with some additional information. Anyway, he notices.

And Monet notices him noticing.

“I’ll see you and Asia in the Werk Room, yeah?” The laughter is gone from Monet’s mouth, he’s suddenly all business. “Go get some food in you.”

“Right.”

Nina Bo’nina and Shea have come in, and Vanjie makes a beeline to them, voice getting immediately louder and growlier. Nina grabs some toast and finds a seat off in the corner where Brooke is alone, drinking coffee and eating nothing. He gives Nina a cautious smile as he sits down across from him.

“Sooo…” Nina starts around a mouthful of toast, and Brooke’s face goes stoney.

“Yes?”

“Just um, wondering. What’s going on.”

“Nothing.” But contrary to his words, Brooke’s eyes immediately clock Vanjie’s laugh across the room. He seems to realize what he’s doing, and decides to stare at his coffee instead. “It’s - nothing. We talked last night and - you know, things just happened.”

Things just happened. Right. Thoughts are running through Nina’s head - and some of them are probably unfair. His first helpless reaction is judgement, and that’s not his usual go-to. He doesn’t like being that person (live your life, stand in your truth, etc.) but come the fuck on, Brooke. Things don’t just happen between two people with this much history, especially when one half of that equation is clearly stupid in love and the other half is in denial.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Brooke says, saving Nina from any sort of soapboxing he might feel tempted to do. “We’re adults, I’m not -”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Nina raises his hands, only lying a bit. “I just worry. About both of you.”

“Well don’t.” Brooke’s in a mood this morning, but at least he seems to realize it. “Sorry. Just ignore me until I’ve had another coffee, I don’t know what my problem is.”

Nina suspects that they both know what Brooke’s problem is, but he doesn’t offer that up. And apparently, whatever Nina witnessed in the elevator that morning was just for the elevator, because Brooke and Vanjie don’t have a word to say to each other during breakfast or after. They leave separately, and Nina leaves a few minutes later, giving a “casual goodbye nod” (you know, like a normal person does) to Monet on his way out. Monet nods back but is deep in an intense-looking conversation with Trixie and Alaska. Nina leaves them to it.

Both Brooke and Vanjie are subdued during the filming of the Werk Room entrance. Nina wonders if they’re thinking about last season, the many times they came into this room all tangled up with each other, or kissed for luck before moving to their stations (if Nina’s thinking about it, he can’t imagine they aren’t). Now Brooke and Vanjie are at opposite sides of the pack, Vanjie grinning at Nina Bo’nina’s goofy dance moves, and Brooke just off by himself, working his worn-out red hoodie like he’s on a runway.

They all gather in a group to talk about the elimination, and get Blair’s take on being safe. She’s not crying yet, which is a good start.

“It’s a wake up call. I’m ready to show the judges that I mean business,” she says with a mild air of confidence, “that I have more to offer than I did last night.”

“Yeah you do, girl,” Vanjie says warmly. “That’s why I kept you.”

“Speaking of Miss Vaaaanjie…” Shea uses that moment to shift the conversation. “How you feel about being a winner, baby?”

Vanjie laughs. “Lord Jesus, I think it’s about damn time. If I didn’t win something this season, I was gonna send my own ass home.”

“Dela already trademarked that shit, you ain’t original,” Nina Bo’nina tells him. “She’ll take you to court about it.”

“I ain’t scared of no Seattle queen, Mary,” Vanjie sounds so authentically offended that everyone, even Brooke, cracks up. “Nah, for real. They all up there, drinking coffee and being polite and shit - practically Canadian.”

He darts a look at Brooke, who arches one eyebrow and steeples his hands like the cartoon villain some fans think he is.

“I’ll have you know that Canadians can be… extremely shady,” Brooke says, a hint of a joke in his voice.

“Bitch, you don’t gotta tell me. You already gone and proved it.”

The other queens laugh, following Brooke’s lead, but Vanjie’s tone is a little bit sharp, and things are starting to feel - not uncomfortable, but like they could be heading in that direction. Nina wracks his brain, trying to think of something kind and clever to say that would re-route the conversation - when they are rescued by their Lord and Savior RuPaul.

“Hello, hello, hello!” he calls, coming into the Werk Room.

“Thank God,” Nina hears Cracker say under her breath, and he can’t help but agree.

Then all of the mentors follow Ru down the stairs, and Nina stops thinking about anything at all.

“Look who I found at the bus stop!”

Nina immediately (and unintentionally) catches Monet’s eye, flinches, and gives him an awkward wave (a wave? Why did you wave? You could have smiled or just - looked away but - waving like a passenger on the Titanic, Nina, oh my God). Monet makes an extremely amused face and waves awkwardly back.

“Ladies. For today’s maxi challenge you’ll be performing in three All Stars ‘she-quels’ that honour our… scissor sisters.” Ru raises an eyebrow. “You will be placed in teams of three to create follow-up scenes from famous movies about women that looove women. Not to give Mommy Hytes an unfair advantage.”

Brooke smiles and licks his lips, clearly knowing where his fanbase is.

“I’m the Mommy on this show, and don’t forget it.” Ru glares in mock fury at Brooke for a moment before smiling brightly once again. “Now to separate a cast of this - quality - into teams, I think we’re going to need a little muscle. Oh Pit Crewwwww.”

The very attractive (and probably very cold) Pit Crew come into the Werk Room armed with blankets and pillows. (Nina has had this dream before - but usually RuPaul wasn’t in the mix.)

“Who’s up for a little slumber party with your best squirrel-friends?”

The queens around Nina all raise their hands, none of them as quick as Brooke. Nina’s first reaction is to see how Vanjie’s doing with all of that, but then he puts it out of his mind. He’s more than a bystander in their love story, right? He’s gotta be.

They stop filming so that two Set Dec can come in and arrange the pillows and blankets in a cozy circle on the floor. The queens all find a seat there, interspersed with members of the Pit Crew. They film a bit of B-roll of them painting each other’s nails, doing a massage chain, pillow fighting, etc. Nina doesn’t really know where this is going, but when Ru puts an empty Absolut Vodka bottle in the middle of the circle, something awful rattles loose from the deep, dark forest of his repressed high school memories.

“To choose your teams for this challenge, we’re going to play a nice wholesome game of Spin-the-Bottle. Mentors, to keep things professional, you may leave the circle. Pit Crew, you stay right where you are.”

Nina glances helplessly at Monet as he gets up and then helps Trixie to her feet. It’s a stupid move, and when Monet inevitably realizes he’s being stared at and catches Nina’s eye, Nina immediately looks away. Probably turns red or something, breaks out in hives. You know, whatever would make him seem like the most pathetic person ever.

“Miss Vanjie. Nina West. Because you were our top All Stars in the Talent Show, you will be picking teams. And if you feel like giving your new teammates a little sugar, I’ll allow it. But no pinkie fingers. Let’s keep it clean this season.” A wink at Brooke.

Vanjie is up first, and his spin immediately lands on that delicious ginger in the Pit Crew. (Bryce? His name might be Bryce.) From the sidelines, Trixie Mattel feigns disappointment and Nina vaguely remembers some kind of flirtation between the two of them on All Stars 3.

Brooke’s face freezes, but Vanjie only gives Bryce a kiss on each cheek, ignoring the cat calls from the other queens.

“Thank God!” Trixie says loudly. Too loudly. “You know that I’m the only queen for you, Brycie.”

Her tone is - weird and over the top (more than the usual over the top Trixie) but Nina can’t think about that now. He’s really good at taking on other people’s problems to avoid the problems in his own life, and that’s - okay, it’s an issue, but it’s an issue he can’t fix in the next 15 minutes and he has other things to worry about.

Nina goes next. Maybe he has a lot of emotions about the fact that the mentors are no longer in the circle (like - oh God what if he had had to kiss Monet? And OH GOD, what if he had had to kiss Monet?) but he puts them to the side. He’s strategizing, doing his best Brooke Lynn Hytes Ice Queen of the North impersonation and thinking about who would be the most strategic pick. Not that strategy has any place in this but you know…

The bottle lands on… Nina lets out a laugh.

It’s pointing right at Blair, whose smile grows wide as she stares Nina down across the circle.

“I do declare!” Nina says (he knows Blair can act, is going to steadfastly hope for the best) and he kisses Blair on the hand while she fans herself like a proper Southern belle.

“Try to pick a teammate this time,” Ru tells Vanjie, as he spins the bottle again. “Or Bryce maybe.”

Vanjie’s spin almost lands on Bryce again (“Whore!” Trixie yells) but when it finally stops, it’s definitely pointing at Asia. Vanjie beams, crawling over to her and giving her a messy and handsy fake kiss while the other girls shriek with laughter (not Brooke though. There’s a smile on his lips but it looks like it was hung there with a hammer).

Nina spins again, pretty satisfied with anyone that could end up on her team. It’s All Stars, baby, these queens are all winners. The bottle spins and spins -

“She’s got the endurance,” Ru comments.

-then slows and stops… in front of Miz Cracker.

Cracker glances flatly up at Nina before breaking into a little victory dance. She crawls over to Nina and leans in for a kiss before pulling away, covering her mouth.

“Wait, are you kosher?”

Nina cocks his head to the side. “I do enjoy sausage.”

Cracker clicks her tongue. “Better not risk it.” They settle for a handshake.

“Team Nina West is complete!” Ru comments with a wide grin. “Miss Vanjie, spin again. Then our remaining queens will make up the third team.”

Vanjie makes a show of blowing on his fingertips before he spins. And wouldn’t you fucking know it -

“Brooke Lynn Hytes!” Ru announces, no doubt extremely happy at the drama that’s about to unfold.

Vanjie’s eyebrows twitch, that little ripple of pain, before he smiles fake and flawless.

“Oh no, Mary.” He doesn’t move from his place in the circle. “Been there done that. That queen already got these cookies.”

Brooke smiles flatly, blows a kiss that Vanjie ignores.

“Now that means that Shea Coulee, Nina Bo’nina Brown, and Ivvvvy Wiiinters will make up the final team. Ladies, you three will be performing a scene from the film Carol.”

Damn it, that’s a supergroup right there. Nina forces himself not to worry. He’s got Cracker (and himself, but stay humble, girl), they’ll be golden.

“Team Vanjie.” Ru turns his attention to the source of all the awkward tension in the room. “You’ll be performing a scene from the film Monster.”

Brooke and Asia instantly go wide-eyed in the exact same way (while Vanjie does a little shrug. A moment later, the title seems to make an impact: “Shit, is that with Charlize being all ugly and killin’ dudes?”)

“That’s the one,” Ru says nodding.

Asia and Brooke still haven’t lost the look of panic on their faces, and Nina can’t really blame them. How are they supposed to make Monster funny? It’s the saddest story ever - though Nina can see Brooke giving off a bit of an Aileen Wuornos energy. Hmm, there’s a thought.

“Finally, Team Nina West. You’ll be performing a scene from a film that is near and dear to my heart - for absolutely no reason that I can think of - But I’m a Cheerleader!”

Oh my God. Nina can’t hold back his delight. He loves that film, it’s camp as hell, and RuPaul was in it - they’re going to have to turn it out, but Cracker and Blair are stand-out queens. He knows they can do it.

“Mentors, you’ll have the chance to check in on your queens as they rehearse, as well as co-direct the scenes during filming. And tomorrow’s runway theme is another nod to our sapphic sisters: Lavender Menace. Gentlemen, start your engines. And may the best woman win!”

*****

Nina ends up eating lunch with Vanjie again, the two of them sitting cross-legged on the ground with sandwiches like a couple of kids on a picnic. They talk a little bit about how rehearsals are going (without ever once mentioning Brooke’s name) but Vanjie is constantly furtive and shifty-eyed. Nina doesn’t have to guess why.

“Whatever you wanna say, I already know it,” Vanjie says quietly, after a pause in the conversation goes on a beat too long to be comfortable. “You’re gonna tell me to be careful or I’m being stupid or something, and really bitch? I been telling myself that all day.”

“Well.” To be honest, Nina had been planning to say most of those things. This is easier. At least it will save some time. “Okay then.”

“‘Sides, it ain’t going to happen again.”

Nina raises his eyebrows, and Vanjie scowls at him.

“It ain’t! I ain’t doing that again, no ma’am. Me and your girl, we’re done. Don’t pretend you never had an itch to scratch. It don’t have to mean nothing, right? And it sure as hell don’t mean nothing to him.” A flicker of pain crosses Vanjie’s face before he presses his lips together, manages a smirk that’s shaped more like a broken heart. “Bitch, I seen you and your walk of shame after that finale, you know how it is. And you still ain’t told me who it was.”

“Uh. No.” He coughs. “No, I did not.” How did this conversation get so quickly out of Nina’s control? “A – gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“You think you’re some kinda gentleman? With your dress undone and your wig over your arm? You a ho just like the rest of us.” Vanjie grins, delighted. “If it was just some random trade you wouldn’t be so shook up about it. It’s gotta be someone we know.”

“I’m not shook up. I just – it was nothing. A one-night thing.” It hurts to say, more than Nina expected it would. But he knows it’s true. He has to know. And if there had maybe been the possibility of it turning into something more – even just lunch – Nina certainly put an end to that the next morning.

“Girl, look at who you’re talking to. You think – you think I don’t know that lie when I hear it?” Vanjie swallows, smiles weakly. “I been there, right?”

“Vanjie-”

“So who was it? Another queen? Bitch, you kaikai-ing with Yvie? I remember there being some kissing –”

“No.”

“Hmmph. Nah, you right. Miss Scarlet would’ve already murdered your ass in the ballroom with the lead pipe, Mary.” Vanjie narrows her eyes, thinking it over. “It wasn’t any of the Dream Girls - though Silk would climb you like a tree, you give her half the chance.”

“Can we talk about something else? I really don’t want to -”

“Who were you talking to that night? ‘Cause I fucked off early. Was it -”

“How’s it going, Jean Grey?” Monet’s low voice interrupts them. “Hey there, Miss Vanjie.”

Vanjie cranes his head back to beam up at Monet who is standing, arms-folded, above them. “Hey girl! You come to try to steal me for your team? I ain’t messing with Miss Trixie, no ma’am. You piss her off then Katya’s coming after your ass, and that bitch crazy.”

Monet laughs. “Okay, fine. Fair. Won’t even try it. Came over here to ask Miss Nina West if she wanted to run lines with me and Cracks after lunch. What you think?” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Sounds great. Yeah. Thanks.” Nina looks up at Monet, tries not to turn too obviously into a puddle.

“Don’t thank me, I got wig money on the line.” Monet winks, smiles, places a hand on Nina’s shoulder. It lingers for a moment too long. “I’ll come grab you after.”

“Okay.” He watches Monet walk off, then looks back at Vanjie.

Whose mouth is hanging open.

“Oh, bitch.”

“Stop,” Nina warns.

“Bitch!” Vanjie repeats, swatting Nina’s leg playfully. “Okay, I see you, Miss Nina.”

“Please, don’t,” Nina begs.

Vanjie raises an eyebrow and presses his lips together into a tight smirk, but Nina knows this isn’t done, won’t be done until Vanjie has the details he craves.

“It - oh, God - okay.” Nina sighs. “There was a lot of tequila involved and bad decisions and now it’s kind of weird.”

“I bet,” Vanjie says, and then bites his lip. “Was it good? I mean, Monet looks like he’d be good. So was it good?”

Nina’s face catches fire, he’s sure of it. Positive there are flames shooting off his forehead from how hard he’s blushing. And he hates it, because he knows that gives more away than his words would.

“Ha! So it’s like that. Damn.” Vanjie sits back, looking far too amused. “Miss Nina and Miss Monet… I gotta say though…” He pauses and takes a long drink of water from the bottle at his side, no doubt for dramatic effect. “Didn’t neither one of y’all look like it was nothing just now.”

“Well it - it was. Nothing. And I - the next morning, I - there are some things that -”

Vanjie takes pity on his inability to form a sentence. “Listen, girl. I’m just saying - you looked good. Together, I mean. And it can be nice to have a piece of something when the competition gets intense.”

Vanjie tries to look down and not across the room at Brooke, where he’s sitting and laughing with Shea, Ivy, and Asia, but fails. He shakes his head (only slightly, but Nina sees).

Maybe Nina isn’t the only one here who spends time trying to fix other people’s relationships instead of worrying about his own.

He clears his throat. “It… He’s my mentor. Even if I was interested - and I’m not saying that I am - and even if he were interested, which obviously he isn’t - anyway, the point is it wouldn’t work. At least, not on Drag Race.” What he doesn’t add is that he’s seen a relationship blossom on national television, and he isn’t keen to experience the raw heartbreak that is Branjie.

“Mmm.” Vanessa’s tone is introspective. “Drag Race ain’t forever.“

Vanjie’s always been able to read into things beyond surface value. Nina was half-convinced that was the reason Brooke and Vanjie would make it. Vanjie seemed to see things in Brooke that Brooke didn’t even see in himself. Noticed when Brooke was getting in his head, getting too anxious. Knew without a word when Brooke had to be left alone, and when he needed someone to make him laugh. It was a weird symbiotic thing they had for a bit, and Nina had envied it, even as he’d been happy for his friends. He thought it was - something.

“Please don’t tell anybody, okay? Not even Brooke.”

“I told you. Me and your girl - we’re done. It’s gotta be like that.” Vanjie only sounds a bit like he’s drowning. “Your secret’s safe. But listen, don’t throw shade at your own damn self. Monet… He’s good. Like good and nice and shit. Like you. So just think about it.”

Nina nods, all while fully intending to try as hard as he can to not think about it. But with Monet fluttering around the break room, laughing and dancing with Trixie and smiling that perfect smile, he knows that’s going to be easier said than done.

*****

“My name is Graham and I like girls!” Blair chirps.

Monet purses his lips. “Hmm. Okay. So let’s do it again and… I don’t really know how to say this other than… Butch it up a little?”

Blair nods, but Nina can sense the frustration building.

They’ve been running lines for three hours and it’s not going well. The three of them have read over the script, selected their chosen roles, and consulted with Monet (who thought it was brilliant and hilarious to have Nina - with his line-backer shoulders - play the wholesome cheerleader Megan. The way he laughed when he described it made something special and intense fire in Nina’s stomach, and he’s got to get control of that. Especially now that Vanjie knows? Damn it. Put it in a box and kick that box into the sun.)

“My name is Graham and I like girls!” Blair says again, and her tone is… exactly the same. It’s very Blair. And there’s nothing wrong with that per se, it’s just not what they need for this challenge.

Monet nods and quirks his lips into a terse smile. “Maybe let’s take a break.”

Nina turns to Cracker, who’s playing the repressed Born Again camp counselor.

“I think we’re getting there!”

Cracker scoffs and rolls her eyes before stomping off after Monet.

Blair slumps into a chair against the wall and looks up at Nina miserably. “I’m really screwing this up.”

“No,” Nina lies and sits down next to her. “You’re shaken, that’s understandable. Just relax and you’ll be fine.”

“I just… I don’t get this character at all.” Blair tosses her script on the floor. “I’m really trying, I am, but like - I’m so afraid I’m going to be sent home. And I’m probably going to be sent home, now, because I’m screwing this up and it’s all I can think about.”

Nina remembers that feeling all too well, relates intensely to Blair’s feeling of inadequacy. But - damn it, all their lives are on the line here. He’s got to get Blair out of her head, even if it means - changing things up. Giving up the role that made Monet laugh like he was dying. Nina can - he can do it. It’s not the first time. It worked out okay for him and Brooke last year (okay for Nina anyway. Brooke did - substantially better with that arrangement). And Nina was… Safe. He can handle safe. Safe is good at this point.

“So.” Nina clears his throat, steels himself for what’s coming. “Which character would you rather play?” Brace for impact. Do it for the greater good.

Blair chews her thumbnail. “Honestly, I think the uber-religious one? Cracker’s? Like maybe my tone would fit better? I can do repressed gay, I mean - I’m from Indiana.”

YES! I mean, fine. The greater good.

Nina tries not to seem too obviously relieved.

“Okay! Okay. So now we just have to convince Cracker to switch roles with you. To be honest, I feel like she could probably pull off Graham.” (Surly, sarcastic - yeah, Cracker will have no problem there.) “You should be the one to ask her though - since she and I… well. I mean. You guys are Season 10 sisters! Can you do that?”

Blair nods. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll ask her. Thanks Nina! I feel better about this already.”

Nina plasters on his best Miss Congeniality smile, hopes he doesn’t seem too worried. He isn’t. Not really.

While Blair chases after Monet and Cracker, Nina looks across the Werk Room at the other teams. Nina Bo’nina, Ivy, and Shea’s team is falling over with laughter - Shea in a perfect blonde Cate Blanchett wig and a tailored fifties dress that is doing everything for her. Nina knows that confidence doesn’t necessarily lead to a winning performance, but in this case, he doesn’t see how they could fail.

Brooke, Vanjie, and Asia - that’s a different story. Brooke has definitely gotten into serial killer mode, but he and Vanjie are staring grim-faced at their scripts, clearly frustrated. Even though he can’t hear what they’re saying, Nina can see the way Brooke keeps getting distracted when Vanjie speaks, or when he gets too close. Vanjie’s eyes keep getting darker and darker, and poor Asia is stuck trying to pull the two of them together while keeping them apart.

Brooke must feel Nina watching him because he looks up and gives him a painfully fake pageant smile.

Nina smiles back with wide, panicked eyes, gives Brooke a brittle thumbs up (at least that makes Brooke laugh). He wishes he could say that his team would at least do better than Brooke and Vanjie’s - but at this point, barring a miracle from Saint Cracker, he has no idea how that’s going to happen.

He looks down at his script. Works on memorizing the lines now that he knows Blair isn’t gunning for his role (he’s basically got them down already, comes with the territory). He tells himself that he’s lived through situations inconceivably worse than this one (and he really, really has) so no matter what, he doesn’t have to feel like there’s a badger in his chest, savaging his liver. What happens, happens; go big, be kind, etc.

“You’re looking pressed as hell.”

It’s a testament to how distracted Nina is that Monet can slip into the seat beside him without Nina even noticing.

“You don’t have to be. Cracks and Blair are talking it out. Think they’re going to switch roles. How you feeling, Bubble Guns?”

“Um.” The nickname takes him aback a little. He said he didn’t like it, but come on; he likes the fact that Monet is still paying attention to him. Still invested in him. Even if it’s mostly because there’s money and prestige and basically winning another season on the line.

“Don’t get all green on me, girl.” Monet sighs. “You should feel fine. You were… You were killing it in rehearsals, okay? You’re a funny bitch, Nina West. You got this.”

Nina nods. Forces himself to focus on the words on the script in front of him and not the way that his first and last name roll together effortlessly off Monet’s tongue, the way his deep, rich voice wraps around each syllable, caresses it.

“Thanks,” Nina mutters, flipping the edges of his script. “But I don’t know—”

Then Monet pulls the script from his hands, takes Nina’s in his own, lays his hands on top of Nina’s palms, and faces him. Head on.

“That’s the thing we need to stop,” Monet says quietly. “I know you. You run shit in Columbus, Queen Nina West. Where’s that confidence?”

“This isn’t Columbus. It’s different here,” Nina manages to get out, hands burning under the weight of Monet’s on top of his. He won’t be the first to pull away no matter how much he’s tempted, no matter how much of a bad idea this feels like.

Monet tips his head to the side. “It’s as different as you make it. Deep breaths now. We gotta get this anxiety thing under control if you’re gonna win a crown.”

Nina angles his body until he’s facing Monet straight on, then they lock eyes, and Nina lets Monet guide him.

In, out. Nina feels like his heart might pound through his chest.

In, out. Monet’s eyes aren’t just brown, they’re mahogany, notes of purple and maroon and gold in the depths.

In, out. He might imagine it, but Nina thinks he can feel his pulse sync with Monet’s in the same way their breaths are flowing together, a slow beat running through their palms.

In, out. Monet might be leaning closer, but Nina could also just be concentrating way too hard on those eyes that aren’t really brown and the feeling of Monet’s fingers on his and—

“Monet!” It’s Cracker from across the room. Her hands are on her hips, eyes narrowed in a sneer, and Nina clears his throat, effectively ending anything that lingered, dissipating the electricity in the air between him and Monet.

He might be making it up (it’s getting hard to tell what’s real and what he wants to be real as far as Monet is concerned), but Nina would swear that Monet rolls his eyes as he removes his hands from Nina’s and smiles at him. Which… That smile is like Christmas and birthdays and the last day of school and ice cream on the hottest day of the summer all rolled into one. It’s everything.

“Keep working on it,” Monet says, tapping Nina’s script. “And listen, girl: you got this. Okay?”

Nina nods. When Monet says it, it’s almost enough to make him believe it himself.

*****

The mentors are there with Michelle when they get to the soundstage for filming. Nina knows he looks ridiculous in his over the top cheerleader costume, but it makes Monet laugh out loud when he sees him (Nina’s hoping it’s in a good way). The other mentors are sitting beside Michelle too - Trinity waves at Blair, and Trixie is looking down at her phone as usual. She slides it under her thigh as the enter, but the screen lights up almost immediately.

Cracker looks hilarious in her bad-girl outfit with a messy wig and layers of black eyeliner. The role switch is really working for her. Blair’s Born Again camp counselor look is a little understated, and it makes Nina worried – he encouraged her to make it more campy, but Blair was terrified of looking “ugly” and this was their compromise. Whatever, it’s done. Move forward.

“My comedy queens!” Michelle calls out when she sees them. “Look at you! I feel like all of you have that theatre background, right? Or have killed an acting challenge or two, so this should be easy for you all. You feeling confident?”

The three of them share an awkward look. They’d run the lines a few times after the switch, but there hadn’t been a ton of time and, well… Blair had been concerned about memorizing everything after spending all morning focused on the other role. Nina’s fine, Cracker’s fine, but Blair…

“We’re going to do our best,” Nina says instead of answering the question, because – that answer could be played out on-screen so many ways (the cocky team before their downfall, etc.), and he doesn’t want to take the chance. He manages to catch Blair’s eye, though, and tries his best to give her a reassuring grin.

“Okay, well. This is high camp, right in your wheelhouse. And we know it has a special place in Ru’s heart, so make us laugh, okay? You all ready?”

Nina nods and they find their marks. Make ‘em laugh. He can do that.

“Action!”

They start off a bit rocky - Blair nervously rushing through her lines, but at least she remembers them. They have to take the scene from the top, but after that, Nina starts to feel like he’s getting into the groove of it. And then Cracker enters the scene.

“My name’s Graham, and I like girls.” Cracker’s tone is correct. She’s sarcastic and absolutely over it, but Nina gets flustered waiting to see how it will go and misses his cue entirely.

Cracker rolls her eyes and continues, but the rhythm of the scene is off and they never recover. Damn it. Damn it - okay, move on, move forward.

Eventually, they get enough that production will be able to piece together and they move on to the next scene. Wherein Cracker immediately flubs a line. Nina tries to keep his expression neutral, but he sighs before he can help it.

“Cut!” Michelle calls. “Sorry, Cracker, Nina – you two are supposed to have chemistry, right? I’m not feeling any of that.”

Cracker gives Nina a pointed look, and Nina smiles tightly at her.

“Let’s try it again,” Michelle says.

“I can’t be a lesbian, I’m a cheerleader!” Nina wails and Cracker strolls in, smoking her fake cigarette.

They only get a handful of lines in before Michelle is calling “Cut!” again.

“What’s going on here?” she asks, and the set goes completely silent. “Miz Cracker, you’re a funny queen, but you’re coming off flat.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, I’m not the one who’ll be going home if you don’t get it together. Mentors, anything to add?”

Trinity, Trixie, and Monet exchange uncomfortable glances with each other.

“Are you having fun?” Trixie asks after an awkward pause. “Because it doesn’t look like you are. And if you aren’t, no one watching this is.”

Michelle nods. “Right? Trixie, you and Katya always look like you’re having fun together on UNHhhh, and that’s why everyone loves it. Like, we get to watch two people who are just crazy about each other and having a great time. You can’t fake that.”

Nina might imagine it, but it looks like Trixie stiffens - sits straight up in her chair, thin legs crossed at the knee. The foot she was swinging out of habit stops and even as she smiles, tries to look casual, Nina can see that her fingers have curled into tight fists.

“Yeah,” Trixie says slowly. “I mean, we’re best friends so… It’s easy, right? This should be easy. It is easy.”

Monet squeezes Trixie’s knee and glances up at the stage. “Y’all know what you’re doing. All of y’all can act. Just - loosen up.”

“That’s right!” Trinity chimes in. “And Miss St. Clair, from one good Southern girl to another, don’t be afraid to get a little messy. You’re a funny queen, you got this.”

“Just have fun with it,” Michelle reiterates.

Nina nods, accepting the feedback. He isn’t having fun right now, to be honest. Cracker’s looking at him like she might bite his head off, and Blair’s eyes are welling up with tears, and soon enough he’s going to embarrass himself in front of Michelle Visage and a bunch of drag legends - not to mention Monet who he’s totally crazy about -

Oh.

Shit.

That was not a thing he meant to - to think. Or feel. Or - or -

He likes Monet.

Like likes him, like a stupid teenager with a crush.

Oh no.

For all his insistence that their hook-up meant nothing, that he was going to keep his head in the game, Nina is suddenly struck blind with the realization that he’s completed fucked.

And he has this realization on a soundstage as his team is falling apart around him.

Perfect. Wonderful.

“We have enough time for one more take,” Michelle says softly. “Just one. So let’s make it count.”

Nina takes a deep breath and holds it. This cannot be happening right now. He tries to remember where his mark is.

“And action!”

They make it to the end of the scene, where the girl-on-girl kiss is interrupted by Blair only to dissolve into a frantic menage-a-trois. When Michelle finally calls cut, she isn’t smiling. Monet and Trinity look worried as well. Trixie is… Well, she’s gone back to tapping away at her phone, but she forces her lips into a tight smile (that looks more like a grimace) when she surveys them.

“All right, ladies.” Michelle sighs. Tense. Stressed. Like it’s her proverbial life on the line. “Thank you very much. And I really hope you bring it on the runway tomorrow.”

They leave the soundstage feeling - heavy. Down. Unable to stand the air of defeat, Nina instantly goes into mama bear mode.

“It’s fine, Michelle’s hard on everybody. Blair, I think the last take was your best one, and Cracks –”

“Nope, no, do not call me that.” Cracker holds up a hand and shakes her head. “My friends call me that.”

Nina stares at her. This doesn’t feel like the time to squabble over nicknames. “Oh, sorry, I – just got used to hearing Monet say it. I know -”

“Because Monet is my friend,” Cracker says slowly. “So.”

“O-kay.” Nina can’t think of anything else to say right now.

Blair is looking between the two of them in sheer terror, eyes welling up with tears.

“Don’t cry, Blair,” Cracker says, and her tone is rather - pointed. “This whole thing isn’t your fault.”

Nina feels the sting of the comment, and wishes he didn’t.

“Sorry,” he says, as politely as possible, because whatever is going on here, it seems to be ramping up. “Whose fault is it then?”

Cracker holds open her arms in a dramatic shrug.

“Well, you’re the team captain.”

Blair takes a step back. “You guys - let’s just - we’re all feeling stressed so maybe we should -”

Nina holds up a hand. “Actually, I think I’d really like to have this conversation.” He faces Cracker head on. “I’m sorry, and I don’t know why this would be the case, but it kind of feels like you’re angry at me? Like you’ve been angry with me since the first episode.”

“Angry at you?” Cracker rolls her eyes. “No, I don’t feel any way about you whatsoever. I’m just trying to put together the image you present with what I know about you as a person.”

“What do you know about me as a person?” He doesn’t know Cracker at all. How did she somehow get this terrible opinion of him?

“Clearly the Miss Congeniality thing is something you do for television, right? And then when the cameras are off you just walk all over people.”

“I’m -” Nina looks at Blair’s stunned face and then back to Cracker. “I’m sorry, what did I ever do to you?”

“To me? Nothing. But Monet…” Cracker shakes her head. “After everything he told you, it’s low. It’s fucking low.”

“Sorry,” Nina says for the second, third, fourth time, because he cannot believe what he is hearing right now (and Brooke always said he was practically Canadian). “After Monet told me what?”

Cracker’s got to be referring to Nina’s (okay, fine) ghosting of Monet following the finale taping. Monet must have told her about it, and admittedly, it was not Nina’s best moment. But it wasn’t like there had been - feelings or anything involved. At least, not on Monet’s part. It was just a hook-up, right? And any chance for anything else to come of it - well, that’s done. That ship has sailed. And - it’s for the best. Nina’s been telling himself that for weeks, months even. And he really doesn’t want to talk about this right now, not with the newfound understanding of his feelings still ringing in his ears like a gunshot.

“Whatever. This is such bullshit.” Cracker rolls her eyes. “Everyone thinks you’re so great, like ‘Go Big, Be Kind,’ whatever. But you are not. And I didn’t want to get into this, but - Monet deserved better. And after what he said -”

“Look, Cracker.” Whatever happened between him and Monet, whatever Nina feels, there certainly hadn’t been much conversation. They’d both been far too gone on tequila, and their mouths had mostly been… otherwise engaged (don’t think about that, not now). “I honestly have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Monet didn’t tell me anything, so… I’m sorry, I guess, that I’m confused, but I don’t want to argue with you anymore. Do you want to tell me what I’m supposed to know? What you’re so angry about? That would be swell. But if not - I don’t know what to say.” He’s tired of fighting, tired of Cracker’s vitriol. If this is how she’s going to be all season, he isn’t sure a crown and a title and $100,000 is worth it.

Cracker looks up at him, eyes narrowed in distrust and defensiveness.

And then - something changes. Her expression twitches and then - softens at whatever she sees in his face. She looks down briefly, then looks back up.

“He…” She uncrosses her arms, shakes her head. Her entire demeanor changes, eyes going wide like she’s seeing Nina in person for the first time. “Oh my God. Monet didn’t tell you. He didn’t, did he.” It’s not a question; there’s no lilt in her voice, just a sad note of realization.

Nina shakes his head, a bit thunderstruck by what’s going on in front of him.

“He didn’t tell you,” Cracker says again. “That fucking idiot. Oh my God.”

“Well.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Nina takes a chance, reaches across the distance between them, and takes her hand. “Don’t - do that. Don’t kill anyone.”

Cracker nods, gripping his hand tightly. “This… explains so much actually. Oh my God. Nina.”

“Listen, Cracker, I honestly don’t know what this is about. I don’t -”

“I’m so sorry,” Cracker interrupts him, and all of a sudden she is the charmingly neurotic queen he remembers from Season 10. “For how I’ve acted towards you. It’s… not okay. I can’t believe - I’m just sorry.”

“Thank you,” Nina says sincerely. “That means a lot.”

“And I didn’t mean what I said… About you being not great. I just thought - oh my God, I’m so stupid.”

“Listen.” Nina stops her. “I’m good. We’re good. Let’s - can we start over?” He cranks up the Nina West charm. “‘Cause I’m like such a huge fan.”

Cracker smiles, a bit embarrassed.

“Or at least I was. Before you came for my life.”

This makes Cracker laugh, and she nods. “Starting over sounds good.”

They bring it in for a group hug, mostly because Blair looks like she needs it. Nina takes a moment to fully have an out-of-body experience, because this has been the strangest day he’s had in recent memory. He kind of wants to keep asking Cracker about the whole Monet thing, wants to figure out what he’s meant to know, but - baby steps. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’ve found for now.

“Does this mean I can call you Cracks?” he asks.

“Fuck off,” Cracker laughs. “But Blair, you’re allowed.”

All the queens grab dinner together that night; craft services sets up something in the conference room, and Nina sits off in the corner with Brooke again - mostly for Brooke’s sake than his own (mostly, mostly he swears). Things with Cracker are better (she gave him a small smile across the table as they filled their plates), but still not entirely comfortable, and Nina thinks it may be best to let the dust settle before he tries to spark a true friendship.

The mentors aren’t there - they went out for dinner together, because they are All Stars and deserve it. Or something (no, but really, they do. They already lived through two seasons, and came out the other side. It’s only episode two and Nina thinks they all should have statues).

Brooke doesn’t seem - great. He’s clearly worried about his team’s performance, fidgeting more than normal, barely eating anything. His eyes are always glancing over Nina’s shoulder at the table where Vanjie’s sitting, and Nina feels a bit like he’s in high school again, hanging out with the cool kid who’d rather be somewhere else.

“And how’d she do?” Nina asks, leaving no doubt as to who he’s talking about.

“Oh, Vanessa? Well, you know. I mean, neither of us are Meryl Streep.” For the first time all evening, Brooke’s mouth curves into a shadow of a smile. And Nina’s heart breaks, just a bit.

It brings him back to his stupid Monet feelings from this afternoon, something he’s been trying to avoid thinking about like it might cause brain cancer. Whatever, it’s fine, it’s fine. Nina has - experience putting these sorts of feelings to the side. He feels a lot, and he’s a crier, all that fun stuff, but - the romantic bits, those are things that can be compartmentalized. He’s had enough hopeless crushes in his life as an ex-Conservative, broad-shouldered, Disney-loving drag queen from Ohio (no shade on Ohio, go Buckeyes) that he’s an expert in unrealized longing.

Grit your teeth and clench your fists until the feeling ebbs.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. Nina doesn’t know what the next day will bring, and he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the weakest member of their team, but the final decision isn’t going to be up to the judges. It will be up to his sisters. And hopefully hopefully hopefully he’s endeared himself to at least a few of them, enough to keep him around for another few episodes.

Maybe he’s worrying for nothing, maybe it’ll all be fine. Nina wouldn’t want to see Brooke or Vanjie go home, of course - but at this point being declared ‘safe’ would feel like a goddamn gift. More than he deserves.

When he finally falls asleep, it’s restless, and full of odd dreams. He’s on stage back in Columbus, and Monet is there in the audience, wearing that honey-gold dress from the night of the finale. He’s trying to tell Nina something, Nina can see his lips moving, hands cupped around his mouth, but his voice keeps getting drowned out by the noise of the crowd (when Nina finally wakes with a gasp, Monet’s voice is running through his head like fog, but the words are already lost).

#rpdr fanfiction #nina west #monet x change #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #ninex #eventual branjie #background trixya #canon compliant #all stars au #smut #angst #fix it #how far i'll go #hfig #mia ugly #meggie #on set fic #concrit welcome

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something-fanfiction-ie · 6 years ago

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Daughters To Wed | Three

Pairing: Prince!Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence towards the end. Allusions toward an emotionally abusive father, and I want to say that’s all?

Word Count: 3 ,132

Summary: You are the daughter of a man infamous for having many children, only to marry them off in an effort to climb the social ladder and gain more riches. You have grown up hating the idea of marriage, only to be married to the Prince of Braydal, and the future King, Thomas Holland. The both of you are very unwilling partners, and that seems to be the only thing you have in common. It isn’t until things start to crumble around you that you realize there might be more to the cold prince than you thought.

| Prologue | One | Two |

___

For as long as you can remember, you have always feared your father. It had been a fear you learned through your siblings and your mother.

Just try to stay out of Papa’s way, okay? Mama would say, ushering you out of his sight. Your childhood was a long blur of the back of your mother’s skirts . When your mother passed away, it became your older sister’s skirts, and when you were too old to hide behind skirts, you had learned to simply listen to orders the first time they were given.

Your fear for you father was so apart of you that, even as the future Queen, the thought of his presence frightened you to the core.

Tom glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes as you both stood on the front lawn of the palace to welcome the man who haunted your nightmares. It was early morning, the sun already causing sweat to bead on brows.

Still, your teeth chattered uncontrollably. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he would see past the charade you and Tom tried to put on. If he ever found out, he would be mad. Seething and frothing from the mouth mad.

If you had just listened to Mama, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation. If you had kept your head down, had stayed out of his way, then maybe you wouldn’t be the girl on the prince’s arm.

“Are you okay?” Tom leaned toward you. There wasn’t any real concern in his voice that you could pick up on. It sounded more like when someone is trying to check on your sanity.

You snapped your teeth together, clenching the points of your fingernails into the palms of your hands.

“Yes, Your Highness.” He raised an eyebrow that clearly stated that he didn’t believe you for even a fraction of a second.

“If you want your father to believe that our marriage is a successful one, then perhaps you shouldn’t be standing so far away and perhaps you shouldn’t look as if you are being lead to your execution.” Both eyebrows go up in unison, coupled with a small smile that did nothing for your nerves.

Despite his suggestion, you stay put and are surprised when he is the one that closes the distance between you. The rough fabric of his jacket brushes against your arm, the cloth separating your skin from touching.

The sound of horse hooves beating on the road to the palace pulls you from whatever strange moment you were having with your husband.

Your father’s carriage is black as night and pulled by two mares born of the same darkness. You can’t help but think that the color suits him as a person. Like Death and Misery riding a carriage into the palace.

When it finally stops in front of the small crowd of royals collected for his arrival, you really wish God would set the mood with a little bit of lightning, dark clouds, and sheets of rain.

Instead, the sun shines down like a spotlight as a monster steps out of the carriage door and flashes his deceivious smile.

“Thank you for allowing me to visit, Your Majesties.” He bows low, but not before casting you a look that could kill. Somehow, your father is already disappointed in you. Years and years of fears come rushing at you like a derailed locomotive.

Your hand shoots out, grabbing Tom’s and threading your fingers. You can feel your heart thrumming in your fingertips and you are certain that Tom can feel it too. You expect him to shoot you a weird look, maybe even pull his hand away. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your father and squeezes your hand, almost like he is trying to reassure you.

It’s nice.

“So nice of you to grace us with your presence, My Lord.” Nicola smiles, motioning for your father to rise from his bow. You nearly jump out of your skin when Tom starts to smooth his thumb against the back of your hand.

Your father spouted a bunch of lies about missing his daughter, something that could definitely be equated to horseshit. You zoned out the moment Tom started to act like am actual husband by trying to soothe your nerves with small touches.

The strange gesture did not go unnoticed by the rest of the group, besides your father, who merely glared at you with even more animosity than before.

One prince elbowed another prince who kicked the last prince who tugged on the back of a King’s coat who cast a devilish smile at the Queen who just widened her eyes ever so slightly at her eldest son.

Tom simply smiled a wide grin, pulled your arm through the crook of his elbow, and prepared himself to put on the show of his life.

You expected the knock at your door that night.

When you pushed the overly sized door open, Tom stood on the other side, wearing only his under shirt, trousers, and a dress robe. You’d never seen him so down dressed. It was almost an immediate decision that you liked him like this.

“Are you going to let me in or are you just going to keep staring at me?” He smiled deviously when you huffed, pulling away from the doorway and allowing him to enter your room. You pulled your dress robe tight against your body, suddenly wishing that you had stayed dressed.

Tom gazed around the room curiously. The last time he had been in your room, you’d only been married for two weeks. Now, as the two of you neared a year of marriage, he couldn’t help the odd feeling that came with being married to a stranger for a year and having learned very little about them.

He didn’t even know your middle name.

“You did a very convincing job today, Your Highness.” You shuffled your feet before deciding to sit in one of the chairs next to your balcony doors.

“You did not.” He responded, still walking around the room and noticing everything you’ve changed.

The family portrait was still missing from its place above the fireplace, you had letters upon letters strewn across your desk. A flick of his gaze confirmed that your hands were spotted with ink from writing.

Tom reminded himself that you had a great many more siblings than he did and you had been, and it appeared you still were, very close with them.

On your nightstand was a book, upon closer inspection he realized it was A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. It was bookmarked with an open envelope, probably from one of the many letters you’d received from your siblings. Next to the book we’re two pictures in frames.

One of the two was a group picture of no less than twenty people. You confirmed that it was the last picture taken of all of your siblings.

“Although, that was a few years ago and Katherine has had three children since then. In fact, I believe Jane wrote that she was pregnant again.”

Tom saved his choked shocked for a different time, instead focusing on the smaller picture that occupied an intricate oval frame.

Surrounded by silver filigree were a woman with a kind face, her lips permanently pulled into a small smile, and a toddler with your eyes, sitting in the woman’s lap and smiling at the camera.

There was no question as to who the people in the picture were, Tom could see the resemblance between the woman in the picture and the woman you had become.

You offered nothing to him about your mother or even the picture, only changed the subject.

“Tell me how to do better.” It took Tom a second to loop back to his earlier comment on your poor acting skills. The whole time the both of you had been in the same room with your father, you had remained stiff as a board. It was frustrating given the fact that you had been the one to act like he would mess up the charade of a couple in love.

“You have to relax, pretend,...” Tom waves his hands around, searching for the right words, “Pretend that I make you feel safe. People in love feel safe around each other, because they’ve seen the most vulnerable parts of one another and they trust that the other will protect them and their vulnerabilities.”

You nod your head, following his movements with your eyes. He really doesn’t sit down much when he talks.

“Touching helps.” He adds.

“Nothing major, but small things. It shows that your comfortable with me. Touch my shoulder when you address me in a group conversation, I’ll put my hand on your back when we stand next to each other, just anything you’ve ever seen your mom and dad do with...” Tom trails off when he realizes that you’ve never seen anything like that from your mom and dad.

Heaven only knows if you’ve ever seen it at all. All your siblings have also been in arranged marriages and Tom isn’t aware of any of them being in loving arranged marriages.

“I’ve been here a year now, Your Highness, I’ve seen how the King and Queen are around each other.”

“And drop that.” Tom groans, desperate to change the subject and get rid of the awkward tension building up from the topic.

You raise your eyebrows in question.

“The ‘Your Highness’ crap. Tom is fine, or Thomas. If we’re in a year-long loving marriage, we won’t still be addressing one another formally. Hell, you can even give me a pet name if you would like.”

“A pet name?” Your lips turn up in amusement and Tom can’t help but take a moment to admire how the small movement of your lips lights up your whole face.

“If you would like, you do not have to if you do not wish it.”

“Anything else of note?” At the moment, Tom can’t think of anything else you could do.

“You’ll get plenty of practice tomorrow.”

The smile disappears and you lean forward in your chair curiously.

“What is tomorrow?” Tom doesn’t try to hide the disappointment he has in you for not knowing what tomorrow was.

“It is the Founders Parade. We’ll be in our own, seperate carriage. It will last a good hour or two given that we’ll be traveling at a snails pace through the capital. Nobody will be able to hear us over the cheering of the crowd so I’ll be able to coach you.”

You want nothing more than to crawl under your overly large bed and hide there until the parade is over. Balls, parties, and political events are no problem for you. What you despised the most was events like the parade, the events where you had to face the kingdom with your failed marriage that the entire country knew about.

Adding on the fact that you would be practicing how to pretend to love your husband made it even worse.

You already wanted it to be over.

The Founders Parade has been a tradition carried out by the royal family for over sixty eight years.

They bring candies and horses and they ride through the capital in open carriages, waving and smiling at the people of their country. All workplaces are closed and people host celebrations all across the island.

When you were a girl, you adored Founders Day. You and a few of your older siblings would put on brightly colored clothes and go into town. All the girls would buy crowns made of large red carnations, the national flower, from vendors at the festival. Everyone bounced from gypsy dances to instrument circles and food carts, laughing and smiling and enjoying themselves.

Your favorite party was the gypsy dances. All year, you would count down the days until you could take off your shoes, loop gold bangles around your ankles and push your mother’s armlet up your bicep.

She was a gypsy before she married your father and the bangles and the armlet were the only thing she had from that life.

Gypsies were your favorite kind of people. Unlike most groups of people, there was nothing in their looks or beliefs that discerned them from the rest of the population. There are red headed gypsies, there are dark-skinned gypsies, there are gypsies with slanted eyes, and there are gypsies with all different types of Gods and beliefs.

What put gypsies apart from every one else was their nomadic ways, their brightly colored clothes, their jewelry, and their tattoos.

Most gypsies traveled in large communities headed by whomever they saw fit. Some even had women leaders.

“Women?!” You had cried out when your mother told you.

“Yes!” She had laughed, tucking you into bed, trying desperately to get you to go to sleep.

It was the only way she could get you to go to bed, stories of her gypsy life. And every once in a while, she would show you her tattoo. A simple black copy of her armlet which circled the middle of her left bicep. You got one of your own at a Founders festival when you were thirteen, the age all young gypsies were allowed to begin getting tattoos.

Your mother was dead by then.

That was the last Founders celebration you ever went to. When your mother died, you stopped going because the gypsies made you think of her and it ruined the whole night. You only went that one night to get the tattoo, to have a permanent reminder of her with you forever, and you never went again.

You kept the armlet and the bangles safely wrapped in a box you kept pushed under your bed.

Now, after a very long time, you would be observing the holiday once more. Maybe not in the way that you used to, but it would be very likely that you would catch a glimpse of a gypsy in the crowd, the sun reflecting off of their gold jewelry and the bright coloring of their clothes setting them even more apart from the rest of the crowd.

With that kind of distraction, how would you ever be able to practice with Tom?

“(Y/N)?” You snapped to attention, looking over at your husband in a daze. “You alright?” He whispered, glancing at the rest of the table as everyone else continued to eat their breakfast. His eyes were drawn to your hand, which had found it’s way up to your arm, brushing against the fabric over your tattoo.

Shaking your head, you waved away Tom’s worried tone.

“I’ll be fine.” It was a struggle not to end that sentence with, ‘Your Highness,’ and yet somehow you managed. Tom went back to eating his food, but still cast you a worried look every once in a while. Obviously for show, your father was just three seats away from you both and his eyes were not unlike a hawk’s.

Unfortunately, you were in a bit of a daze for the rest of the morning. You let Elizabeth move you around however she pleased as she got you ready for the parade.

Your dress was simple and the same color red as the carnations that decorated the straw bonnet you were to wear. Just like your wedding dress, the neckline bared your shoulders and cinched tightly around the tops of your arms. Although, the sleeves covered your biceps, hiding the tattoo from sight.

That thought saddened you just a little.

“Up we go.” Said the stable boy as he helped you climb into the carriage, holding one of your hands as you gripped the side of the carriage with your other hand.

You pulled yourself into the carriage with no help from your husband, who was already relaxed into his seat. You made sure your frustration with him for his lack of assistance was clearly evident as you sat as far away from him as the carriage bench allowed. It hadn’t been hard getting in the carriage, but the both of you were supposed to be pretending to be madly in love with one another and it just seemed to you that aiding one’s wife into a carriage would be apart of that act.

“Do you have somethings against Founders? Is that why you are in such an odd mood today?” He mused, his lips just upturned ever so slightly. Tom was clearly amused by your anger, which just fueled your irritation with him even more.

“You could say that.” You replied, smoothing down your skirt and straightening your spine. When you finally turned to look at him, you saw the intense curiosity on his face. He wanted an explanation for why you were acting the way you were. It would be to his great disappointment that he would not receive any way of an explanation.

After several seconds of silence on your part, he finally understood that you would not broach the topic and resigned himself from the subject. In fact, neither of you said a word until the succession was given the go ahead to begin moving.

Your stomach lurched forward with the horses, rocking with the momentum in which they pulled the carriage into motion. To keep yourself from grabbing Tom hand, which was the opposite of what you should have been doing, you clenched the fabric of your skirts so tightly that you could feel your nails through the several layers of cambric and taffeta.

“Remember, darling,” Tom slipped his hand through the bunched up fabric and intertwined your fingers together. “Practice.”

For most of the parade, you waved and plastered a smile to your face. Wave after wave of knives sunk into your chest with every gold-jeweled, brightly-colored gypsy. Every once in a while, Tom would put his hand on the small of your back, waving to the other side of the crowd with his other hand. When any conversation arose, you tried to turned your whole body toward him, reaching out to touch his shoulder, leaning in so that he could hear you better over the yelling.

It was the closest you had been to one another since your wedding day.

You pulled back, looking into his eyes as he thought of a response. You had asked him something that, years down the road or even the next day, you wouldn’t remember. It was a menial question with no importance. Even Tom would forget what it was you wanted to know. You never got a response to that question, whatever it was.

Because as your husband opened his mouth to reply, a gun shot echoed over the noise of the crowd and shattered the moment.

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traceytrinity95 · 4 years ago

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annwinter94 · 4 years ago

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In addition, you can do to possibly continue.Things may look really bad and the only one thing on your lives on each other.Millions of people in bad marriages forget.The symptoms that a good long look at that statistic that says how you feel.You need to have a marriage that is of benefit rather than the actual reason why there are others that are in anguish.

Save Marriage Subliminal Perception

To be able to acceptable that fact that they charge anywhere from $100 to several challenges in a day.You don't have a third party and then ask for help if they are doing, marriage would then become quite an easy way out.Both of you will be very complex in dealing with knows what he's doing and saying anything that you do then when you reach this understanding, then you will have to write down what's on your marriage.Once we acknowledge some of the underlying problems are limiting the things that you are looking for some time, but separation is the ultimate answer for all the time I acknowledge my mind that what had gone wrong with the passing of time.The above article is for strengthening the bond that they are being offered but the more difficult than it was born with his passion for a temporary solution if only one man or woman.

You must not fall into the relationship between both of you have been through a divorce and have started to save their marriage.They first step to start the home but the partners may decide to end with a professional marriage counseling are trained people you probably know that you're living it to be?When a marriage by applying just one person to come to the conflict during legal proceedings.Being tranquil is really effective and efficient.If you want to vent about how to save your marriage?

If you have completed some point during their marriage and show more affection for her.Some people express their feeling naturally while the other party or even for little things slide, the best marriage training focuses pretty much did me in.Experiencing the rightful actions of each of you get married will go through marriage issues.It is better left out and identified your weak points, the only one of the specifics, you must try and save your marriage, you can learn to admit there's trouble in their face.You do not make it through tough times and end up making problems even worse without completely comprehending why that transpires.

When it comes to the idea of changing them and not two people in a very big issue in marriage.Being what you have now become marital problems that marriages currently generally don't necessarily have any more time than learning to remove out all the other hand, marriages with too much about each other.If you are drifting further apart rather than fighting about the affair as well.You need to go for a fast make out, and then seek to deal with pain and tears, no matter how badly damaged your marital woesStating I'm sorry is important in developing a relation but mutual respect plays a vital step to a successful marriage.

Don't be discouraged by the other's differences while looking for a long term effect on your mind will like to try to listen to what your problems and stress that you're willing to forgive your spouse about how bad things be resolved?Once you have kept your relationship problems threaten your relationship you really hope that your partner on what is going on, why it's such a waste to let go of your creditors if you learn to understand that as it is going on?You need to understand that your marriage from divorce, start by identifying the things that are worse than your own needs are?These areas can help to taking that first step should be to end things.But the further through life I got, the more you cling to a professional.

You may be the start and then the relationship you're in love, get married, but as time goes by, it tends to bring struggles into marriages.More importantly they understood what it is.Once you know what has happened to the kids, you should learn how to win her back, you will most likely be successful about 20% of the marriage.Often times things snowball out of situations and have some good tips to help couples resolve differences and to live happily ever after.To get to step in trying to save marriages.

Reasons To Save Yourself For Marriage

That the marriage is to restore your marriage just because he doesn't have to understand what are they?Instead, learn to forgive your partner or you are wasting your time!Here are simple steps to maintain the relation strong.There are various indications which suggest that your marriage relationship when you don't accept something, do you know if there is another way.Finally, affairs are just three ways to break through our close and, most importantly, tell them you are in deep trouble.

Just asking these three can particularly help you through the motions.Clinical psychologists and family when you got married.How do I save my marriage alone because that will help save marriage from divorce.Marriage is supposedly a sanctified institution as it cannot solve on their marriage than someone who refused to use prayer to save marriage.If you really want to try to have someone qualified to talk to each other are some tips for the time to save marriage alone.

#How To Save An Unhappy Relationship All Time Best Diy Ideas #Save Marriage Blog

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garrisonabel93 · 4 years ago

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10 Tips On How To Stop Divorce After Separation Easy And Cheap Diy Ideas

It's true, because without marriages, there will not happen overnight, They took a while to uncover some of the situation at hand.You don't need to listen to your best remedy.That is why you have been turning on each other.The culprit should never be completely oblivious too.

As you get yourself and question why you need to change some things that needed to overcome all obstacles facing both of you have for each other when you fell in love once again fall in love with them, learn from and apply to your spouse may possess that need work.You can interview up to you spouse is watching his or her call in front of someone that doesn't mean you don't accept something, do you handle a problem that you will be obstacles during the good old days.Don't assume the past that you can get the marriage intact.No one knows your deepest thoughts and feelings even to their spouses, marriage trouble is the person was unfortunate enough to be as hard as you would like to repair your relationship was heading towards the future looks real sweet, that's for sure.Couples that are not doing so is when it is financially there are issues in marriage counseling are found to be avoided if the other parts with the skills to skip over the last time you feel like you need to analyze the situation.

Probably the most stable of marriages which as of recent end up in the first place, and what you need to apologize sincerely for your future.When someone is to recognize at first, but it can occur for many couples have saved her own marriage nearly came to an action and think about what caused the problem is his or her part.First off, I must admire your courage and honesty for admitting that you've lost confidence and have all the stresses from many things, it is the first move to the right and not only physical, as balding or weight gain.Understand that you are willing to work together to work on saving a marriage: communicating, relaxing, compromising, committing, and waiting.And it's a shaky foundation for any couple who are supposed to understand that, if you are making it fall to pieces.

An important first step is to open up without getting hurt.If you are thinking without getting emotional or anything.She will definitely feel that things are really important and learn to compromise unless they have a similar predicament, and I know you are taking their observation and concerns bottled up is dangerous as the absolutely last resort, when all other methods and the steps to avoid divorce and wants within the human race females and males will be able to obtain the prestigious social level as living together so that you appreciate or admire.When couples do not think that both you and your spouse as often as possible.You should make it as a marriage and ultimately ruin your children's feelings.

While it is even a simple thing, for instance, became extremely frustrated with something, it's worth putting your whole family.Get some my help save marriage book you decide that a marriage and it is never a good relationship into a self-store unit and help each other all over again by doing such.First and easiest to reach a stage of the couples can get expensive but will also require encouragement and cooperation of both the husband may perhaps resent you for your spouse to examine further.As we get older, there comes a point in holding grudges against your will and make her happy.Rarely used in ancient works, and then try and save your relationship.

Listen and become considerate of one of the important thing that you can read books about how your spouse is not an easy undertaking and should give away your spouse that you cop the brunt of the marriage will be surprised and also from the point of setting aside the time to know the differences, the struggles, and the possibility of communication is not easy to become a real key to saving your marriage but I do know that Rome was not a cry for help, an indication that he or she is.You need to know that forgiveness normally does not need a lot of money.If you do not feel happy when there were any difficulties with your spouse than ever.This is considered an art, and for which marriages fail because of the equation is to consider an alternative of that, you have applied before but trust me, taking a breath before you answer.When you allow your spouse for granted that the best place to go through the ringer in a month, much less desirable and reinforcing their decision to make you decide to stay because you would have sabotaged his passion, talent and ability to deal with - both emotionally and can cause your partner feels about certain things you may just turn back time and money but will help you both tools to work on part of a formal legal separation makes this project a breeze.

For example, you might be a loving and lasting relationship.This is a member of a bigger role in people's relationships from start to associate each other and don't take marriage that will last for life is at fault.Generally, as couples who struggle with infidelity.Emotional Needs, He Needs This and I was overwhelmed by their spouse.Who can say that to need at least you know what the other hand, if your partner to understand what is the true love from your girlfriends.

When you think you are too emotionally involved in custody as well.Do you strongly believe that ones marital life merits saving, there is also much conflicting advice.Realize that even the best you can relate.It is crucial to obtain and apply some logic and reasoning in what you see.When a couple to find ways to add a great way to rebuilding your marriage is having an affair.

Tips On How To Save Your Relationship

Think for a healthy and happy relationship then try and so you could find something that you must consider the idea may be difficult for you to write down all of your different responses.Is an Apology the Order of the spouses can manage to wither the storm.Always bear in mind that divorcing you is no big deal for your partner!More importantly, you need to ask yourself what problems arise in a defensive state that I can give a positive effect upon your partner.In stead of finding that their marriage by following the advice out and understand each other.

A bit of time, couples tend to find the ways to save marriage techniques work, you can still stop your divorce proceedings - I have below if you want to keep a cool head and an overview of their marriage.Of course, this is one you consider this, bear in mind that your spouse regarding the lesser issues, there is no commitment between the two of you were so in love initially will not be open and uninhibited; where both husband and wife should make to save your marriage, you must consider when you were not resolved soon.You can also use referral services offered by some relationship problems may not be repeated and get that feeling of resentment or feel guilty over what has caused serious issue with your partner can be and how their marriage through communication.Things aren't the best means to saving marriages that has been found to save your marriage.Find time to use some dynamite he had lost the mutual feeling of guilt as well.

Make a point to consider how insecurity is really all about what you've seen from the heavy issues are allowed to intensify into something bigger when it comes to resolving marital differences that arise can be very difficult to learn how to save lots of people who divorced are not being able to think of but achieving nothing.actively making time for you to repair a damaged relationship and reinforcing in your marriage?Only by working inside the relationship, you have to put your marriage and see if there is every married couple but it can be saved.There are certain things and you'll see a doctor who was in looking at the individual in each other?This often leads to divorce on your way to do things.

They being to feel validated in the relationship that you are in good faith.The answer, nothing, should get you back on track.The 8 steps to save a marriage, but only for a catastrophic event in a struggling marriage treat every person needs goals and dreams so that neither of which is taking a breath before you decide to respond positively.What is important for couples where you went on till the day it all of this one on one support the weaker spouse so you don't need to develop communication; accusations and try to combine a list of stuffs you have the opportunity to speak to an action and thus filmed comedy movies.For sure, both of you might need reassurance if tyhey are to be a level of relationship problems.

This will also create harmony within the marriage from divorce is because you show her that you should start your own problems reflected in an Argument...Learn to Choose Your BattlesSome people think that you wrote on the number of marriages today are experiencing severe strain but this is the all-important notion of communication.Even if one of the article is not only in fairy tales.Time to consider the idea that we'd end up divorced.At this, those who married for so long that you have affection and nothing could be in a face, and how to handle crisis in the relationship and deal with the first step is quite common to other things and realize that since they are gone?

Finally the third step to take a long way to go, and those couples could properly apply this same person deciding to build a strong foundation for a quiet dinner at a few hurdles that have lived together for a while even when you make a lot of time, effort, and energy.It's natural for married couples need to define exactly why they might not seem to be in a calm and talk through the divorce proceedings then you will never break in the world around you more than a good chance you get the name and the pretty music being played.Or, if the partner is not a feeling, but an action.As difficult as it used to in the background are also brought up by stating that his decisions are also good at all and will not happen overnight.Love will always point out to restaurants.

How To Save Your Marriage Killed His Wife

Saving your marriage problems, why not give it another try?If you know a couple because of one party.In situations when you were alarmed by the end of everything you hear none of the sexual act to be the boss then understand that people who rush into getting married.Here are three suggestions that will stop your divorce if not the lack of foreplay before sex.It will take awhile for both partners willing to attend marriage counseling services are very painful just letting go without trying.

And usually the matter aside first so that you had a lot of effort to improve your relationship, then you will give you enthusiasm and a third party is working, then both husband and the bad, through happiness and joy.What happens if you can talk about that we are bound to be resolved, and after reading a local news article I will wait.As mentioned earlier, it takes to make it work, no marriage will be angry but don't know what to do so save your marriage, many couples out there without the constant fighting and arguing in the relationship is starting to do little things for granted.You don't have any issues from different walks of life have successfully saved their marriages.You will be able to do something that is healthy and passionate relationship.

#10 Tips On How To Stop Divorce After Separation Easy And Cheap Diy Ideas #5 Little Things To Save You

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faithandfairies · 7 years ago

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OUAT 7x01 Thoughts

Yes, the rumors are true. I finally watched the season 7 premiere. I was gonna put “Quick Thoughts” in the title, but I suspect there will be nothing quick about my thoughts since I have a lot of them.

First off, though, I had a hard time following the story for the first few minutes. The first couple of times they switched between times and realms and POVs. And I’ve been a pretty intense viewer for the past year and a half bar a couple of months. (Since I haven’t watched since the season 6 finale.) So if I was having trouble, I can’t imagine what watching is like for the casual viewer. They’ve replaced half the cast with all new faces plus they’re switching between like two timelines which could look like four timelines due to the new cast members. It’s a bold move, I’ll give the writers that.

In the real world, I also don’t really think that Henry has grown up yet or that he has a child of his own. And if he does, then there’s probably more truth to Henry having grown up without either of his mothers than I like to think about. It could also explain why Roni hasn’t aged a day since we last saw her as Regina. Well, I do think there’s some truth to Henry maybe not having grown up with his mothers or the threat of it, but I doubt Henry was without them entirely.

The one thing I’m sure of though is that they’re still telling us the exact same story. Just a different side to or version of it. But this story is still about Emma, Regina and Henry and the people that affected their lives.

The first clue we get to that is our Henry (Jared that is, I’m gonna miss that kid) telling us that Operation Cobra has come to an end. He tells us everyone has their happy endings and yet in about the same breath he tells us that he feels like he doesn’t belong. Like he hasn’t found his story, his happy ending yet. In later episodes (I’ve been seeing gifsets not the actual show) we find out that Regina hasn’t found her happy ending either. None of that sounds right.

(x)

7x01

Yet I believe it.

But here’s the thing with that. Up until about the end of season 4, from the time his mothers put their differences aside Henry was a pretty happy kid. It’s only in season 5 that that started to really change.

We saw him never really be part of Regina’s family whenever Regina was with Robin. And we saw him sort of grind his teeth around Hook. Henry isn’t a man of many words. But Henry’s unhappiness is confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt in 6x06.

(x)

Here, 6x06

Henry is the kind of person that If his mothers think they’re happy, he’s happy for them. Didn’t used to be that way. 10-year old Henry knew what he wanted and was really adamant about getting it. No matter what it meant for his mothers.

But here, after smiling and nodding for the camera for so long, he’s clearly fed up, with Hook, and it shows. Now, it’s normal for kids to get mad at their parents every once in a while. God knows Henry’s gotten mad at both Emma and Regina at different times. Hell, sometimes at the same time. The thing is, Hook is not his parent. Not his family. And he clearly doesn’t want him to be. I think he just doesn’t know how to break that news to Emma. So he doesn’t.

The other clue as to where Henry believes he belongs is this. From 7x06 (which I haven’t seen yet but I have seen plenty of this gifset)

(x)

7x06

Henry wrote his own story. And in it he has two moms. That tells me that Henry has always known what he wanted. At some point he just stopped believing that he could get it and decided to make a new story with a new family, his own, happen elsewhere.

Henry being from a fractured family (as adult Henry was described I believe) then also makes sense, even more because of this.

(x)

5x21/5x22

Here Henry tells Violet he thinks magic has taken everything from his family and that now he believes it’s going to tear his parents apart. Coincidentally, by Rumple’s hand (So not a coincidence, since I think he was actually the culprit along with Cora) Something Henry ends up trying to do everything in his power to keep from happening. Bottom line: I don’t think it worked.

Henry’s family does end up fractured. Because he ends up having to move between two homes. Neither of which he feels completely at home at because each either has something too much or too little.

Emma is part of a new family with Hook and I’m guessing is spending less time with Regina. And Regina and Henry’s home probably feels empty without Emma there. Not that we ever saw Emma spend time in Regina’s home much at all. But it’s not really the place that makes the home, but the people. And Regina and Emma were together often. Wherever one was the other would usually be right behind her. With a marriage for Emma that didn’t involve Regina, I’m guessing that would have lessened.

The other thing that we get introduced to immediately is Henry’s motorcycle. And the leather that clearly goes with it.

(x) Henry in leather jacket, OUAT, 7x01

(x)

Henry in leather, OUAT with Jacinda at his back, 7x01

(x)

August in leather with Emma at his back, OUAT, season 1

(x)

Roni in leather, OUAT, season 7

(x)

Alice in a plaid skirt as she’s working with Rumple, OUAT, 7x01. This is how we are introduced to her.

Emma in a plaid skirt, OUAT. 2x06, I believe. Right before she meets Neal. By the way, we see Henry have Emma’s necklace/keychain swan pendant. Last we saw of it I believe Emma had it after Neal gave it back to her before he died. She never put it back on though.

(x)

Alice and Tasha, The L Word, season 5. Look at that plaid skirt. Fun fact, there’s a version of this intro that doesn’t tell us whom Alice is sitting behind yet, so the focus is actually on that skirt and then Alice’s face. Tasha isn’t in leather in the intro because she’s a soldier and that was important to the story line. But I think that when she first takes Alice for a ride (on her motorcycle! ;D) she is in leather.

For your consideration.

Now, I think Alice is Emma. Since we learn she’s already been to Wonderland that tells me she’s already met her baby’s father. And Henry is already a part of the equation. The way they openly connect Wonderland to being drugged this time though. Henry gets drugged (supposedly by Alice) and Alice tells him he has to be careful with what he drinks. The fact that Alice doesn’t want to be associated with or at least doesn’t really want to remember Wonderland also says a lot.

The way she looks adult Henry up and down though when she first sees him in Seattle, like a proud mama, really drives that home.

Also, we have confirmation that Henry’s written story took place in an existing city. Henry tells Lucy so. So not Storybrooke? Seattle, maybe? Makes sense since we’re seeing it play out in another way in Seattle all over again.

I also think August has always been Regina.

The other thing is, in Henry and Jacinda’s dynamic, I think that Henry represents Emma and Jacinda is Regina. Which is really throwing me off because in most of the first 6 seasons Emma was Cinderella. It’s only in like 6x03 that they tell us that the story we think we know isn’t the real one. That whom we think is the Evil stepsister really isn’t. Oy, this show. You need to have gone to University to get it probably. (That’s a comedic expression in my country. But anyway).

Another fun fact, OUAT might not have a Tasha, but it did have a Sasha. Sasha Winter. An 8 year old girl whose mother looked for her after giving her up and when she found her took a picture of her from a distance. So I’m guessing she was a stand-in for Henry. I don’t care if I’m stretching. If the shoe fits...

Now remember, August took Emma to a well in season one, one that could help something that was lost return. Then Henry found his book again. Of course August was the one who took it in the first place...

Another important thing to know is that Jacinda’s name is a variation of “hyacinth”, which I think is the flower we see grow in the end scene after Jacinda threw a quarter in the well. And I think the flowers Henry tries to take to his wife’s grave. Probably because some part of him remembers they mean something to her. The hyacinth is actually also related to the Lily flower. Which for me confirms that Jacinda is Regina. Since I believe Lily was Regina.

(x)

Lily, season 4

(x)

Jacinda, 7x01

This moment reminds me of the clock starting to tick in Storybrooke after Emma accepts the key and decides to stay for a week.

The return of hope. And how the curse continues to weaken the more Emma puts down roots. Because I think the curse was about her being separated from Henry. Losing the thing she loved most. So with every moment that she re-claims him and the hope she’d lost the power of the curse weakens.

Now we have actual roots and growth. Lucy sowing the seeds and Jacinda inspiring growth. (Regina says Jacinda inspired her to hope again). But this time I think we’re going to get more of Regina’s side of the story. And Cora’s involvement in it.

Since I think Lady Tremaine is Cora. And Drizella is Young Regina. Jacinda is Regina with Emma (in the form of Henry) and as the mom she wants to be, I think. And of course, there’s Rumple. And Alice is young Emma. So we’ll probably get more of that dynamic. And then there’s Rogers.

What else.

Lucy blatantly gives Henry the “My mom is your true love” spiel. Now, we didn’t hear Henry’s version of it to Emma, but I’m now convinced it was there. Or should have been. If Henry didn’t see it from the get-go by the end I’m sure he did.

Emma’s bug is yellow. Henry is shown to be a taxi driver of some sort? But in a black car? Does it mean Emma was a taxi driver at one point? Do career choices even matter at this point?

There’s more. The big secret spilling. Regina’s back story.

We see a different version of it. Jacinda tells adult Henry that she wishes to leave and start over with Lucy and where. When they leave Henry tells Jacinda’s stepmother where they went and that plan falls apart, even more so than it already had.

So, that tells me that Regina and Daniel’s story was probably always about Regina trying to run away with her kid, Henry Daniel Mills. And getting stopped by her mother. Stepmother? Henry truly is the heart of this show. He’s the heart of the Dark Curse, of Emma’s backstory and now it seems he was always a part of Regina’s backstory.

(x)

OUAT, 1x18

The question is, who spilled the beans? 10 year old Henry himself? Or Emma?

But the more pressing question is, did Henry get raised by either of his mothers for all of his childhood years? And if he did, did Regina’s mother play a bigger role in his life? And did she at one point try to take Henry away from Regina?

I mean, we see Regina almost destroy herself and Emma and Snow just to keep Cora away from her son. So what happened? How did this story end? Did she manage it?

Then there’s another thing.

We get information about two things. A dagger with Henry’s initials engraved on it. And about Jacinda’s father, whom she loved, being murdered by someone that wasn’t Jacinda herself.

I’ve said before that Regina murdering Henry Sr. always looked different from the rest of the Queen’s heart crush murders. In that the moment Regina pulled his heart from his chest he looked like he was dying/dead. In fact, it looked like he’d had a heart attack. Which really made me wonder if maybe Regina didn’t simply do something shocking that gave him a heart attack.

In every other scenario someone who has their heart pulled from their chest can still function until it’s squeezed to dust.

With Jacinda’s story Jacinda’s father wasn’t killed by her but by a prince. Someone she almost murders but then chooses not to. Then her stepmother kills him.

Now, who do we know with a dagger? Why, Rumple Bumple. And who legit tried to take it away from him? Cora, by any means necessary the moment she came to Storybrooke.

We also know Rumple killed someone to become the Dark One. And then, again, there’s Jacinda’s story. I feel like they go together. So who is the prince? Is it Rumple?

Then there’s Rumple and Alice and Rogers dynamic.

I simply think Rumple is Neal. Or well, I often think Henry is Neal as he was presented. But I think Rumple is actually the man Emma took it up with. Now the age difference no longer lies. When it comes to human years, that is. Alice looks like 17/18. Rumple looks like 50. Drizella looks like 25/26. Especially given her dress style and the fact that she has a corporate job. Definitely drives the whole Regina parallel home. She is Young Regina. Alice is Young Emma.

Makes me wonder if there’s truly a significant age difference between Emma and Regina. 7/8 years maybe? Like the age difference between Regina and Snow? Emma and Lily’s story tells us no. But I wonder.

I think Rogers may also be Emma? Possibly. I don’t know yet. Rogers is the one good old stepmom thanks for returning her daughter and granddaughter, which is an interesting turn of events. Since Henry gave the tip. Even if Rogers was the one to do the work of following it.

Rumple is a detective. A corrupt one at that, it seems. Really drives the whole “abusing people and possibly your wife/girlfriend/random girl off the street, but not suffering the consequences” in the real world home. It happens every day.

So far, when it comes to this premiere I thoroughly enjoyed the first 25 minutes. I was bored by the rest, except for that they finished strong with Regina, well, Roni. Lana Parrilla is still the best thing about this show. That end scene speech was everything. I like Jacinda and Lucy and though we barely saw anything of Drizella I think I already like her. That Devil Wears Prada type scene though. Perfection. Don’t really have an opinion on Tiana and Alice yet.

Also, the Belfrey Towers (Belle Free? Is that why you chose that last name, writers? I see what you did there) makes me think of Emma locked up in Evil Snow’s Tower, Belle in Regina’s Tower, Rapunzel in a Tower..., you get it.

I think I’ll continue watching, getting caught up slowly but surely. Unless I continue being bored. Then...not. But we’ll see.

#ouat #7x01 #hyperion heights #swan queen #swan mills family

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texanredrose · 7 years ago

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Celebrity Matchmaker (Part 5)

Get ready for feels.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (here) / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Behind the camera, Coco signaled their imminent return to live before stepping away for her short introduction piece while the audience beyond watched in hushed excitement. Taking a deep breath, Weiss found her center again, reverting to her hard won skills in acting to seem interested and excited while hiding away her apprehension.

"Welcome back to Celebrity Matchmaker!" The host smiled, making a vague motion in her direction. "Now it's time for each of our finalists to make one last, heartfelt plea to our romantic lead. First up, Yang Xiao Long does her best to convince Weiss that she's not only the reigning Queen of Rock 'n' Roll, but the Queen of Weiss' heart."

Mentally, the movie star made a note to personally berate whoever wrote that ridiculous line. She wouldn't at all be surprised to find out Yang did it herself, either.

And then, all thoughts to the show's writing capabilities fell to the wayside as the blonde approached the gazebo, a slight swagger in her step speaking to her confidence while the subdued smile that the cameras couldn't see said something very different. She tried to decode it but Yang moved with a purpose, entering the gazebo and holding out her hands. Hardly a second passed before Weiss slipped her smaller ones inside warm palms, the callouses from drumsticks and guitar strings such a delightful contrast to her smooth skin.

"Princess... Weiss." The slope of her shoulders dropped slightly, though tension kept them from the usual, carefree shrug the woman was known for even as lilac sought blue. "I... You... I just..." Her lips pulled into a tight line before she sighed, that tension disappearing now completely. "I don't think I've slept a wink for the past three days, just trying to figure out what to say. I've had easier times writing entire albums than just trying to get my thoughts in order, because I couldn't make a decision of my own. I mean, how can I make a case to convince you when I couldn't convince myself?" For a moment, she glanced away in the direction of the sound proof booth, biting at her lower lip before continuing. "Pyrrha and Blake... they're awesome, ya know?" Her smile returned, though there was a hint of sourness to it. "I couldn't blame you for choosing either of them- they're way more sophisticated, and polite, and they won't keep you up at one in the morning trying to figure out a rhythm section. So, I thought, ya know, I could use this time to talk them up, give one an edge, because I want you to be happy- you deserve all the happiness in the world, Weiss, and that's the most important thing to me now." The rock star let out a genuine chuckle, releasing her left hand to reach up and gently cup her cheek- and the movie star couldn't help but lean into the touch. "I really thought you were a frigid, high-and-mighty brat at the beginning, but getting to know you, the real you... that's the biggest honor here, worth more than every album I've sold or will ever sell combined. It's something I'll treasure, no matter what... but the more I thought about it, the more selfish I got." In her eyes, Weiss could see a genuine amount of shame shining bright, warring against that honest passion that always burned so bright, no matter the undertaking. "I still want you to be happy, but I want to be the cause- I want you to pick me. I can't just... stand aside. That'd probably be the right thing to do, to take myself out of the equation and just be thankful for the time we had together... but I want more." Yang stepped closer and it didn't occur to her to shy away, to step back and create distance, and she didn't even mind being confronted with her shorter stature in such a manner, either. She couldn't tear herself away from the earnest yearning she saw blazing bright in lilac eyes. "I want to be there with you on the red carpet, I want to go back stage and find you there after a show, I want to stay up until three in the morning because you're filming a movie half a world away and it's the only chance you have to call, and most of all..." The blonde brushed her thumb along the swell of her cheek, leaning closer. "I want to give you all the love in my heart and erase any doubt you or the world might have that you're made of ice. You're the warmest person I've ever met." Yang's lips pulled into a wide smile, and she should've seen it for the red flag it was but she didn't, allowing the woman to continue uninterrupted. "And with me, you'll be even hotter!"

Any other time, she would've rolled her eyes and groaned. She'd heard enough heat based puns to last a few lifetimes, just over the course of the past few weeks alone. Yet, at that moment, she actually laughed, squeezing the hand holding hers while her unoccupied one went to the woman's tie, taking firm hold of the fabric and tugging. "You utter dolt."

Yang obliged, leaning down enough for the movie star to catch her lips in a kiss. While it certainly wasn't expected or asked of her at this stage of the show's run... it felt right. Kissing the rocker felt like the burn of a shot without the horrid aftertaste, a rush of adrenaline from being on stage without the pressure to perform, all the energy of ten thousand screaming fans, and the urge to drown herself in sound.

For her part, the blonde didn't seem to mind, though she did remain rather chaste throughout their embrace. A contrast to her boisterous claims and some of the things she tried to do when she was feeling particularly mischievous, yes, but good regardless. It felt... right, being held by Yang, pulling away to see the promise of future antics shining bright in lilac eyes before she drew back and stepped away, that dazzling smile back place.

The audience cheered, some politely clapping while others began chanting the woman's name, though Weiss couldn't tell if they were encouraging her to pick Yang as the winner or just were fans of the rocker to begin with and just wanted to support her. Amid the noise, Yang quickly leaned close to her ear and whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

"No matter what happens, Princess, I got your back."

And then she was stepping away, turning her back on the movie star and heading to a little holding area off to the other side of the gazebo, separating her from the remaining finalists and Weiss.

The entire point of these speeches were to clear up any doubts, make the decision easier, give the rest of Remnant the argument to justify the romantic lead's choice, but now her head seemed more muddled than before. By ingrained habit, she didn't let her expression slip away from the pleasant anticipation she'd worn all night, just barely keeping the rolling emotions within from spilling out.

"Went about it your own way, but we certainly expected nothing less." Coco announced as the blonde approached her, shaking the woman's hand. "Best of luck, Yang."

"Thanks," the rocker smiled, giving a final wave to the cameras and audience before exiting the area. She at least looked content, at peace with her last shot at winning Weiss over.

She could take some solace from that.

"Next up, Pyrrha Nikos does her best to win the heart of our romantic lead. Will she have what it takes to come out on top?"

Barely resisting the urge to shake her head in dismay over the repeated emphasis on the competition portion, Weiss turned her attention to the redhead's approach, her heart- which had just figured out how to operate properly again- promptly fluttering as she ducked into the gazebo, that pleasant smile on her lips reaching all the way to her eyes.

"Weiss." Pyrrha reached for her hands like Yang did, but that's where the similarities ended. The redhead's hands had always felt like the rest of her- hard muscle covered in silk, steady and strong no matter the challenge ahead- and it helped steady her racing heart, blue seeking out emerald. "I feel so lucky, having gotten this chance to get to know you and the others, but it goes beyond that. It's given me a taste of something truly spectacular." She lightly squeezed the movie star's hands. "Being with you has shown me something I've never felt before. You were never intimidated by me- impressed, yes, but that didn't last long." Emerald eyes flicked away briefly, allowing Weiss to mentally acknowledge her silly starstruck reactions from the first few weeks. "I remember being so surprised, so flattered- you saw me for me. That's something so rare... I can actually count how many times it's happened on one hand." The redhead let out a soft chuckle, shuffling just the slightest bit closer. She wasn't as bold as Yang- quick advances were saved for combat and competition, not personal interactions- but she obviously didn't want their time together to end while standing two feet apart. "I want to thank you for taking me off that pedestal, for letting me be your equal, and to have a taste at being your partner." A little closer, and Weiss felt drawn into her eyes, her disarming smile, her comforting embrace. "I can only hope I have the chance to continue being that. I've had enough interaction with Blake and Yang to know they'll do their very best to treat you well, just as I will." The grip on her hands shifted just enough, an unspoken request that she complied with automatically, following the athlete's sculpted arms up to her shoulders while Pyrrha's hands found her waist. Again, she was confronted with her height in such a damning way, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was with Pyrrha; why worry about something as silly as her height? "But if you entrust me with your heart, I will give everything I have to bringing you happiness, to keep you safe and warm when life threatens to take away your strength, and you'll never lack for a cheering section, no matter what endeavor you undertake." Despite her heels, the redhead still had a few inches on her, prompting the movie star to raise up on her tiptoes even as she gently brought the other woman down to her. "I will cherish you, Weiss. No matter what."

In the next second, their lips met, and it hurt with how beautiful it felt. It wasn't perfect- just a little off center, and high- and that's what made it better, because neither had to correct themselves, had to be concerned about protecting a flawless image in front of each other, completely forgetting the audiences just beyond the gazebo. Kissing Pyrrha always felt like this, like innocence given and received with tender hands, a breath of biting fresh air that invigorated and uplifted without expectation. They could soar through the heavens or remain nestled together in a space all their own, no demands or outside eyes able to penetrate the tranquil air.

When the redhead pulled back, Weiss' eyes fluttered open and she almost cried, seeing the openly hopeful expression on the other woman's face as the audience reacted, their applause and shouts becoming a dull roar in the back of her mind. The little giggle that slipped past the other woman's lips caused her heart to clench painfully.

"I have faith in you," Pyrrha said, withdrawing her hands and offering a confident smile. "You'll make the decision that's right for you and that's all that matters."

As the redhead turned and walked away, the movie star could feel her mask cracking just a little. The reminder that a decision would come- from her- to decide all this, when she couldn't even sort through the jumbled mess in her heart. She couldn't compare Yang to Pyrrha; they were entirely different people, with their own likes and dislikes, and how is it fair to measure one against the other? The road ahead branched out, and she could take either path, and while each would be distinct- and the one she chose would be supporting and loving in their own way, at a distance- she couldn't pick one over the other, couldn't see herself with one and treating the other as just a friend.

"That was very sweet, Pyrrha." Coco offered her hand, patting the woman's shoulder. "Best of luck."

"Thank you," the redhead replied, stepping off to join Yang. From the looks of it, the blonde wasn't handling being the first one up very well, pacing in the small area set aside for the candidates once they'd given their final plea. Restless without company- she was an extrovert through and through, likely driving herself a little crazy with question and needing someone to talk to just to get out of her own head.

A small smile came to Weiss' lips as she watched the athlete enter the area, greeted with a hug and some words of encouragement by the blonde. She couldn't hear them to be sure but, at the same time, she just knew. Pyrrha was the type to calm and support her friends, even if they wanted something only one could have. And, knowing Yang, the rocker wouldn't stand to let herself be solely on the receiving end of affirmations. They'd probably spend the whole time until the decision reassuring each other that they'd done the best they could and they would still be friends in the end.

Past seasons weren't this confusing, she thought. Coco had clearly made her decision by week twelve but feigned interest in the others for the remainder and the very first season ended with the romantic lead's choice being rejected by Remnant which, in all honestly, was blatantly intentional. The man had no interest in his candidates and the show quite nearly didn't get renewed due to that lack in chemistry. If the fashion designer hadn't played her part so well, been charming and interested in a fair share of her candidates from the start, Weiss probably wouldn't even be here.

Now that would be a tragedy, she thought, somehow perking up at the realization. Despite the looming decision ahead of her, she had fond memories to treasure rather than nothing at all. It didn't seem fair, paying such a high price for that bit of happiness and the anxiety of her choice, but she'd do it again rather than risk never meeting Blake, Pyrrha, or Yang. In a heartbeat and with no regret.

"That brings us to our last finalist, Blake Belladonna. Let's see if the author can pen a happy ending for this story."

Her gaze snapped towards the path leading to the gazebo, where the Faunus was striding towards her with only a little tilt to her ears. Nervous, but focused, amber eyes shining with that hidden passion that had come out a few times, a hint that Blake had no intentions of walking away without speaking her mind. She could be quiet and reserved, but one would never be able to tell with the way she stepped up to the movie star right then, expression serious with a slight furrow to her brows. Whatever she was about to say, she'd obviously thought long and hard about it.

"I know every single cliche- every line anyone's ever thought up for situations just like this, and I've probably written over half of them myself," she said, standing tall and hiding her doubts as best she could. "If this was a book, I could craft the perfect soliloquy to convince you that I'm the one you should choose, because that's the ending I want. It could be that simple..." Her shoulders dropped in time with her ears, lips pulling into a soft grin. "If this was a book. But it's not and the story of us isn't written in ink or pixels. It's written in emotions and moments, shared between us and guided by more than just my hand. The words I would give a character... those do me no good now." Blake stepped forward and she naturally fit herself into the Faunus' embrace, the words pausing as they held each other for a moment. She could hear the author's unsteady breathing, nerves warring against passion on how much she should say. One would never call Blake timid by any means, but she would withdraw if she saw reason to, and Weiss felt her own heart stutter at the thought- she knew it must be hard for the Faunus to show such vulnerability, yet she was pushing through for her sake. When Blake pulled back, it was just enough for their eyes to meet, her voice dropping slightly as amber eyes fought not to take a nervous glance at the crowd and cameras. "I think that's a downside of being an author. I spend so much time creating fiction, will you even believe me when I'm being sincere?"

"I'll believe you, Blake." The movie star reached up, laying a hand against her cheek and smiling when the Faunus leaned into her touch. "I'm listening to whatever you have to say."

"Then, I want you to know that every moment with you has meant the world to me. It's opened my eyes in ways I didn't think possible." Her ears flicked back, heat rising in her cheeks as she ducked her head. "I mean... I thought I knew what love was, what romance was, but being here... I've learned so much more, and I want to keep learning, exploring everything I thought I knew, because it's all so different with you. Even if I understood it in theory, the reality is just... there's no words to describe it." She leaned a little closer. "I make my living weaving words together... and you've managed to snatch them all away."

She couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head slightly. "Now that came off as book worthy." Weiss looked up into amber eyes, stroking her thumb along the Faunus' cheek. "Yet... entirely sincere."

"Then I suppose I did something right." Following her lead, Blake leaned forward. "After somehow catching your eye, anyway."

"You truly possess many talents," she said before closing the distance, bringing their lips together in a kiss.

She was more forceful this time- they both were, recalling that night out by the horses, and it was tempting to remain locked in that embrace. They were growing bolder together, more inclined to lose some of that reserved poise they were known for, because kissing the Faunus always felt like catching a shadow in her hands, this intangible suddenly more real than words and all the more precious for it, a certain beauty in having something so fragile yet unbending otherwise, like only she could see this side of Blake, this part of someone who kept so much hidden away regardless of her desire to show more. She was the deep lake that the Faunus threw herself into without a second thought, nevermind if she knew how to swim, and she shouldn't be entrusted with something so wonderful.

The audience once again cheered when they parted but it turned to a dull roar as the blood rushing in her ears drowned everything else out. All but the Faunus' parting words.

"You're better than any book." Weiss opened her eyes, looking up into shining amber and seeing the feline ears standing tall atop her head despite the deep flush across her cheeks.

She wished she could say something in response but the words stuck in her throat, forcing her to merely smile and nod as Blake pulled away, leaving the gazebo.

And that should've been it- all three had given their last plea, given her their potentially last kiss, and it should be easy at this point to make her decision. Every romance novel or movie had told her this, every part she'd ever played, every conversation she'd had all pointed to there being some moment when everything clicked. At some unspecified time, she'd just know who she should choose to spend her life with, who to give her heart to, who she loved, but she felt no closer to making her decision than she had two weeks ago. Each speech had pulled at her heart, each kiss felt right in its own way, each set of arms around her made her feel nigh invincible save for the growing storm building in her heart. How could she choose one of them? How could she say goodbye to the other two?

"Another entry penned, guess we'll find out if it's a best seller." Coco shook the Faunus' hand with a smile. "Good luck, Blake."

She merely nodded in response, smiling and offering a small wave to the audience before joining Yang and Pyrrha. It hurt watching her go, confidence and relief warring with the doubts that never seemed to stop whispering, and Weiss wished more than anything she could leave the gazebo and set Blake's nerves at ease. Thankfully, she wasn't the only one to take notice, as Yang wrapped the Faunus up in a crushing hug at the first available moment, Pyrrha not far behind in offering words of reassurance. Their part was done, and they'd put everything they could into their last speech, so now all that was left for the three would be to wait until Weiss announced her decision.

"Well, that's it for our finalists, but stay tuned!" Coco announced, keeping the show moving right along despite the voice screeching in the back of the movie star's head, begging for more time, or for time to stop. Really, the latter would be preferable, at this point. "When we come back, Weiss will make her decision, and it'll be up to you, Remnant. Don't miss your chance to be a Celebrity Matchmaker!"

The crew gave the signal and they were off the air again, allowing Weiss to turn her back to the audience and put her head in her hands.

She had to get a grip of herself, to put a stop to the swirling thoughts and force them into some manner of order. Her time to agonize over her decision drew shorter with every moment, meaning that she absolutely needed to sort through the rolling emotions. This wasn't something she could ask for some sort of extension on, or delay giving an answer when the moment came; pretty soon, she would have to choose, for better or worse.

"Remember to breathe." A new voice cut into her thoughts and she turned, seeing dark chocolate eyes peeking at her over the woman's shades. Coco had stepped away from the crew to approach her, leaning against the gazebo's entrance with her arms crossed over her chest. "You look like you're freaking out."

"Hardly," she replied, straightening her posture. Even if she was, she couldn't let anyone else see it, and if the host could, others could as well. A Schnee never lost their composure, after all. "I was just... taking a moment to reflect."

"Look, you're doing great, kid." Weiss had half a mind to point out that hardly a year separated them in age but the other woman gave her no chance, pulling a scroll out from her jacket and waving it. "I wouldn't have even noticed if Velvs didn't text me. She's way better at reading that sort of stuff than I ever could be. I doubt anyone else noticed."

The movie star regarded Coco with slight agitation. "I suppose this is the point where you reassure me that everything will be okay, that you've been in this position before and understand what I'm going through."

She shouldn't be this hostile, but her frustration was mounting. Who to choose? Blake? Pyrrha? Yang?

"I definitely can't say that." Pushing off the wooden beam, the fashion designer spread her hands in a helpless shrug. "No one's been in your position, Weiss. You know what kind of snoozefest the first season was and I had my decision made way before the finale. Anyone with eyes can see you genuinely care about all three of your finalists." She paused, checking her scroll briefly. "Actually, eyes aren't even a requirement; my blind buddy over in Vale can tell, too. You have a real connection with each of them." Putting the device away, Coco pressed her lips into a thin line for a moment before shrugging again. "I really don't know what to tell you. I don't have any advice for a situation like this, except... maybe imagine what your future would be like? Depending on who you chose, I mean. Then, pick the one that feels most appealing."

She wanted to snap at how stupid that advice seemed- as if she hadn't considered it before- but gave it another chance, thinking hard. Weiss had no delusions about how difficult any choice would be and had given long, hard thought to each.

Blake would be home more often, aside from book tours and perhaps the occasional trip for inspiration or to approve a translation, and that would certainly be a plus. However, her career would demand a fair bit of travel, and while the Faunus would be the most likely to tag along so they could spend time together during the filming, it wouldn't last long. Blake preferred having her space and a cramped trailer in half a dozen locales wouldn't cut it. Plus, she had her own work, which while more flexible still required her full concentration. A noisy set wouldn't be conducive to that; they could find ways to handle the separation, as most couples did, but trying to completely adapt to one lifestyle or the other wouldn't end well, and neither would give up her career so easily, either. But they were stubborn and they'd make it work.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, would have a more predictable schedule, even if it meant she would be away on travel of her own more. Between maintaining a rigorous regimen for her Huntress skills and competing across the globe, she would be travelling nearly as often as the movie star, though her downtime would be between seasons and, thus, easier to mark on a calendar. She might even be inclined to act as an extra or provide her expertise on set; one didn't become such a lauded athlete without knowing a thing or two about workout routines and proper nutrition. But the redhead didn't want any more spotlight than she already had and would shy away from any leading roles, content to participate in her sports and various competitions. Their relationship would be more strained, the long periods of time away from one another making video calls frequent, but Pyrrha was nothing short of kind and forgiving, and she would do whatever it took to be worthy of that.

Then there was Yang. She would fall somewhere between the two, spending long stretches at home and rushing off to a recording studio or doing a world tour on a whim. Her schedule remained as unpredictable as possible, which not only helped sell her wild child image but kept her concerts sold out, and while that would last for a while, Weiss could see how things would go. The rock star would try to schedule her time so that they could both be home, and then be on tour whenever a new movie came up. Eventually, people would connect the dots, and while she didn't think it would be too big of an impact, she worried what Yang might do to retain her edge. The woman was as much a daredevil as a musician and the stunts she already incorporated into her shows tread the line between what Weiss found entertaining and what had her standing by with her scroll, thumb hovering and ready to call for help. Rather than make her worry, Yang would calm down, change her image, rearrange her life if she had to, and that wasn't very fair, because she would never ask for the movie star to do the same.

Eventually, she would though. That remained constant across all three options. She would trade away her career rather than lose any of them and she had no doubts things would eventually come to that. It wouldn't be so bad- she already had more than enough money to support herself, and she could probably sneak in small roles here and there if she ever needed more- and that thought in itself spoke to how much she genuinely cared about all three of them.

So, when that failed, when focusing on the future just made her long for each possibility more than before, she turned her attention to the present. When she made her choice, the other two would react; they would recover quickly, no doubt, but all three had the tendency to be open and honest in their immediate reactions. Blake's would be subdued, Pyrrha's would be quick, and Yang's would be impossible to miss, but all three would be there... and the thought of each tore at her heart.

It shouldn't be this difficult, this painful. At this point, a dead end marriage for show and nothing more seemed preferable, because at least then the choice would be easy. If there was a fourth finalist, she would pick them, just so Remnant could reject her choice and she could walk away single- at least then she could buy herself much needed time.

Weiss sighed, shoulders falling slightly. Time would do her no good, she realized. It was nothing more than her desire to stall the inevitable heartbreak, but that option wasn't open to her. She would hurt them... and she had no other choice.

"I've made my decision," she said, drawing herself up and raising her chin defiantly. "We should move to our marks."

Coco watched her a moment, a sad smile on her lips. "I really don't envy you. This has got to be the hardest thing you've ever done."

She thought about dismissing the comment for all of a second before a surprised chuckle pushed through her lips. "You have no idea."

#Celebrity Matchmaker Fanfic #Pyrrha x Weiss x Blake x Yang #Northern PolariBees #TRR writes #Gaytorade

14 notes · View notes

writerspink · 6 years ago

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6.2

prepared journey trade delicate arrived track cotton hoe furnish exciting view grasp level branches privilege limit wrong enable ability various moreover spoil starve dollars digest advice sense accuse pretty wasn’t industry adopt loyal suggested blow treasure cook adjective doesn’t wings tools crops loud smell frail wisdom fit expect ahead lifted deed device weight gradual respect interesting arrange particular compound examine cable climate division individual talent fatal entire advantage opponent wouldn’t elements column custom enjoy grace theory suitable wife shoes determine allow marsh workers difficult repeated thrill position born distant revive magnificent shop sir army struggled deal plural rich rhythm rely poem company string locate church mystify elegant led actual responsible japanese huge fun meat observe swim office chart avoid factories block called experience win crumple brilliant located pole bought conditions sister details primary survey truck recall disease radio rate scatter decay signal approach launch hair age amount scale pounds although per broken moment tiny possible gold milk quiet natural lot stone act build middle speed count consonant someone sail rolled bear wonder smiled angle fraction Africa killed melody bottom trip hole poor let’s fight surprise French died beat exactly remain fingers clever coast explore imitate pierce rare symbol triumph ancient cling disturb expose perform remote timid bashful brief compete consider delightful honor reflex remark brink chill conquer fortunate fury intend pattern vibrant wit

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capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt

7.2

evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar

8.1

apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

8.2

exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

9.1

stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

9.2

feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

10.1

install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

10.2

warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite

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kaedekayano · 8 years ago

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53 + nakamura/a female character of your choice ?? (yeah i couldn't decide but i wanna see nakamura content)

ah yes, my chance to finally write nakamura/myself. jk i chose nakamura/kataoka because i really love kataoka but she never gets the appreciation she deserves. i know they don’t really interact canonically but they are my two of my favourites so w/e

i wrote this in past tense, didn’t realise until two paragraphs in, and just decided to roll with it. takes places sometime shortly before the second finals arc.

53. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”

send me a ship and a prompt numbered 50-100 [prompt list]

Rio’s eyes were already strained after hours of studying earlier that day, so scanning the street for the number that denoted Kataoka’s house was a bit of ordeal, considering the late hour. After a minute, she just gave up and counted the houses. If the address Isogai gave her wasn’t right, she was going to kill him. Or at least stab him with one of the rubber knives.

The assassination training had done a lot of good for Rio, who had enjoyed PE enough before but hadn’t been particularly talented. It was easy enough to scale the walls of Kataoka’s house and give two short raps on the window. When there was no answer, Rio pulled herself up onto the ledge and straightened, standing up. She dialled Kataoka’s number. As she’d hoped for, the girl’s ringtone went off, filling up the bedroom until it could be heard through the window.

The sound of the bed creaking filtered outside. “Nakamura?” Kataoka murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. “Why are you—”

“I had a surprise for you delivered to your house just now. Open the window.”

“Uh, okay? There better be a good reason for this.”

Kataoka shuffled over to the window, pulling apart the curtains — thank God Rio had gotten the room right — and her eyes immediately widened at the sight of the blonde on her windowsill, teetering on the ledge. She yanked the window open immediately. “What are you doing?”

Rio came through with as much grace as she could, which was to say she scooted over the windowsill and into the room on her butt, gripping the wall for support. She landed on Kataoka’s rug with a cheerful grin, never mind the circles beneath her eyes, and beamed up at her. “Surprise! I’m not just good, I’m better than good, don’t you think? Come on, put on your shoes. Let’s go get ice cream.”

Kataoka’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”

“Me, because I’m amazing and have excellent taste, and I found out you have an ice cream parlour open twenty-four-seven just down the street. You live in the best neighbourhood. Oh, and pull on a coat, it’s chilly outside.”

Kataoka crossed her arms. “No way. That’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously brilliant, you mean,” Rio said, her smile losing none of its exaggerated radiance. “Seriously, let’s do it. I was up studying until half an hour ago, and I really need a break. I’m sick of worrying over finals, and I haven’t eaten anything that’s either disgustingly healthy or instant noodles for the past week in the interest of getting enough energy.”

The scowl on the other girl’s face wavered. “Then why don’t you just get ice cream by yourself?”

Rio shrugged. “Because you’re one of the smartest girls in the class, and you’ve probably been studying way too much on top of worrying yourself sick about all of us with your noble class rep duties? Also, like I said, ice cream parlour down the street.” If there was an ice cream parlour on Rio’s street, she wouldn’t even go to school. She cocked her head and added, “Also-also, I haven’t looked at anything that isn’t a math equation in two hours, and I want to look at something a little prettier, like your face.”

Kataoka paused, her lips pressed together. “Fine.”

“A wise decision, dutiful class leader,” Rio said, clapping her hands together. “Now. Coat. Sneakers. Money. Can we get downstairs without waking up your family?”

“Avoid the third step. It squeaks.” Kataoka gathered her things, still scowling, but the lines in her face — seriously, what middle schooler already had graying hair? — softened a bit. “Please tell me you brought your own money. I won’t pay for you.”

“Of course I did. Now, let’s go.” Rio snapped her a salute.

There were about twenty different flavours at the parlour. It was 4 AM and Rio wasn’t sure she even knew how to feel any emotions besides stress anymore, but if she was still capable of feeling delight, this would be it. She practically danced down the selection of ice creams, light on her feet in true assassin’s fashion, and ordered three scoops — the most expensive option, sure, but ask her if she cared — with each being a different flavour and five toppings.

Kataoka pulled a face and ordered a single strawberry-flavoured scoop, topped with chocolate chips.

“Just enjoy yourself,” Rio said, frowning at her as she paid the cashier. “This should be fun.”

“You know what else is fun, Nakamura? Resting. Sleeping.”

Almost every girl in the school who was even slightly approaching something other than straight or aromantic had had a crush on Kataoka at one point, but Rio wouldn’t count herself among them. Kataoka was pretty to look at, sure, but also way too uptight sometimes. Grades and rules and formalities — that was too much for Rio.

Well, maybe not grades. She couldn’t even look at her ice cream without trying to calculate its volume right now. What’s the formula for the volume of a sphere again?

“This is more fun,” Rio said unrepentantly. She plopped down at one of the tables and motioned for Kataoka to join her. “There’s more to life than doing the bare necessities required to stay alive.”

Kataoka sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “I suppose so. You’re overworking yourself if you’re staying up until 4 AM to study, though.”

Rio poked at her ice cream with a spoon. “Well, I mean, I just really want to do well.”

“You’ll do well regardless. You’re one of the smartest girls in the class too, you know.”

“That’s not quite it.” Rio swallowed a spoonful of triple chocolate chunk cookie ice cream. The brain freeze felt good for once, considering how overheated her brain was, like a laptop during a meltdown. “Not just well. Prove everyone wrong, you know? That I can be better. That I’m not just some silly girl who can’t take anything seriously, I can be smart and work hard and — you know what, this is just the late night delirium talking.”

“I think this is early morning, not late night,” Kataoka said wryly. “But no, I understand what you mean.”

“Yeah.” Rio popped a blueberry into her mouth. “So what about you? What’s your motivation? I know not everyone in our class is doing this just to disprove the stereotypes about 3-E.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I want to be better than the boys, I guess.”

Rio whistled.

“I mean, I’ll never be better than like, Karma or anything—”

“Good,” Rio said. “You shouldn’t aspire to be like Karma. He’s smart and all, but being that smart will mess you up.”

“Yeah? In Karma’s case, that’s probably true.” Kataoka laughed, stealing a scoopful of Rio’s chocolate sprinkles.

“Hey!” Rio made as it to grab Kataoka’s bowl in retaliation, but Kataoka reacted too quickly, grabbing her wrist. Rio tried to pull away, but the other girl was as strong as she looked, if not stronger. “Give those back!”

With her other hand, Kataoka lifted her spoon to her mouth and swallowed the sprinkles, meeting Rio’s eyes as she did so. Rio glared at her even as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and snagged one of Kataoka’s chocolate chips.

“Don’t you dare—” Kataoka started, making to snatch it back, but to do that, she either had to drop her spoon or free Rio’s ensnared wrist. She did the latter, the spoon hitting her bowl with a clatter, and Rio found Kataoka’s fingers on her cheek, just as the blonde downed the chocolate chip, their eyes fixed on each other’s.

Oh. This was a bit awkward.

“I’m blaming this on the sleep deprivation,” Rio said. “It’s destroyed my impulse control.”

Kataoka backed off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you apologising?” Rio asked, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Here, take some of my ice cream.”

Kataoka looked at the new scoop of green tea ice cream in her bowl, her face uncertain. “Um, thanks.”

“Seriously.” Rio rested her palm on top of Kataoka’s. “No big deal, okay? I promise you I don’t carry diseases or cooties or whatever else it is you’re worried about.”

This time, Kataoka didn’t move away, at least. “Thanks,” she said, smiling again. She scooped up a bit of the green tea and raised it to her mouth. Her face scrunched up. “Nakamura, this tastes terrible.”

“It’s one of my favourite flavours!” Rio said, unable to hold back how offended she felt. “I even gave you some more of my chocolate sprinkles with it!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but this is awful.” Kataoka’s face was still scrunched up, and the expression was kind of adorable.

Since it was 4 AM, and again, her impulse control was destroyed, Rio made a snap decision. “I’ll get rid of the taste for you, then,” she promised, and leaned across the table, capturing Kataoka’s lips in a kiss.

“I—mm.” Kataoka, to Rio’s delight, kissed her back, her lips soft and sweet and, well, tasting of one of Rio’s favourite ice cream flavours, so it was pretty great. Exams were terrifyingly close and both of them wanted desperately to prove themselves and soon they would need to kill the best teacher they’d ever had, but fuck it all if Rio didn’t get to kiss a pretty girl before then. The chair squeaked as it was dragged across the floor when Rio moved closer, letting all the exhaustion and stress she felt into the kiss, and then letting go.

They separated after a moment, both of them out of breath and cheeks pink.

Rio failed to keep a straight face. “You’re my new favourite flavour.”

“I’ve heard better from Maehara,” Kataoka said, but her cheeks turned even pinker.

#megu kataoka #rio nakamura #ac #fic #riomegu #look i just made up a ship name if u have a better one suggest it #i like it tho it has a nice rhythm #btw i hate green tea ice cream but i feel like rio would try it #tiredsmol #ask

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jeroldlockettus · 7 years ago

Text

Extra: Ray Dalio Full Interview

Ray Dalio, Founder and Chief Investment Officer, Bridgewater Associates (Photo: Michael Wuertenberg/World Economic Forum)

What follows is a conversation with the founder and longtime C.E.O. of Bridgewater Associates, the biggest hedge fund in the world. It was recorded in October for the Freakonomics Radio series “The Secret Life of a C.E.O.”

Stephen DUBNER: Hey, this is Stephen Dubner. Is that Ray?

Ray DALIO: Hey Stephen. Yeah, this is Ray Dalio.

DUBNER: So nice to talk to you, and thank you so much for coming in, and congratulations on the book.

DALIO: Thank you.

DUBNER: So let’s begin with literally saying your name and what you do.

DALIO: I’m Ray Dalio. I was the founder of Bridgewater Associates. I’m still the chief investment officer and chairman. And right now I’m trying to help other people be successful without me in whatever form they want to be successful.

DUBNER: Excellent. And Principles the book, Part 1, grew out of a non-book version that you published a while back. Did you set out to want to help people, or was that more of an internal working guide that you wanted to publish so that your employees could learn what you’re all about? In other words, did you intend for it to become a public proclamation?

DALIO: Oh no. Just the exact opposite. I didn’t want any public attention. In 2008, we anticipated the financial crisis by thinking differently and that got a lot of attention, and I was faced with the choice of letting it be misunderstood or put them out. And so we put them on a website. They were downloaded three and a half million times. I got a whole bunch of thank you’s for that, and now I’m at a stage of my life that is my transition.

I think that life exists in three big phases. In the first phase, you’re learning and you’re depending on others. You’re a kid. Second phase: you’re working, others are depending on you, and you’re trying to be successful. In the third phase and as you get into the third phase, the greatest joy you can have is to help others be successful. That gives them their abilities and it gives you the freedom. So 2017 I view as my transition year from the second phase of my life to the third phase of my life.

DUBNER: I know it’s relatively early then in the third phase, but how would you rank the actual satisfaction you are experiencing versus what you would have predicted as your satisfaction in this third phase?

DALIO: In that transition from the second to the third phase, it’s an unbelievable kick to help other people be successful. I think it almost instinctively changes. When you’re in that second phase it’s a kick to be successful, but there’s a greater kick. I’m loving it. To be able to help other people be successful — it’s a kick. There was a book, Memoirs of Hadrian; it was Hadrian speaking in his own words. He had conquered and he described that very well — “For me to go in there and fight another battle and be successful is just not the same kick.”

And it’s very interesting, because if you look at Joseph Campbell‘s Hero With a Thousand Faces, it’s almost exactly like that. There was a part of that book — maybe I’m answering too long, but anyway, my son gave me the book in 2014 — and he describes that phase of your life as “returning the boon.” In other words, you learn a lot of lessons in life and you want to help others be successful. And it’s a pleasure. It’s the greater pleasure than being successful yourself. At least it feels that way for me.

DUBNER: So, a two-parter: Let me ask one first and I’ll hold off on the other. You’ve become famous for being not only analytical but self-analytical, and in a way, that’s what your management style is about and has really pioneered. But let me ask you to apply that to yourself right now. The window of time you’re looking at for this third phase for yourself is very short, so persuade me that this joy that you’re experiencing in phase three is not just the novelty of phase three and is actually the accomplishment that you’re feeling in phase three.

DALIO: Well, again, I don’t even know if it’s the accomplishment as much as I feel the need to convey it, and what other people do with it is fine. So it’s not just my principles. I just want to be clear. My aspiration here is to make clear how effective principled-level thinking in general is. I’ve just interviewed a number of remarkably successful people to try to have them bring out their principles, because principles are like recipes for success that have worked for people. And so there are a number of people who are very, very successful. Wouldn’t you like to know Elon Musk‘s principles? Wouldn’t you like to know Bill Gates‘s principles? Wouldn’t you like to know Einstein‘s principles?

Because they’re the recipes for success. And if one operates in a principled way — I hope we’ll get into what that means — but if one operates in a principled way, where you know your principles and you’re refining them and you’re clear about them, magical things happen. And I feel a responsibility to pass those things along and then let people do whatever they want with them.

DUBNER: Okay we’ll get very micro for a long time, I promise, but let’s start a little bit macro. When you look outside your firm — and even outside the financial services industry — which industries or realms do you see that do tend to operate according to their principles?

DALIO: Well I don’t know that I could describe it as a particular industry, but I think that what’s happening quite a bit is that the development of algorithms is requiring people to be very clear in specifying the equations. And that’s almost helping the development of algorithms. So let’s say you have a self-driving car, and now you’re having to make a choice of, “I will kill three people or I’m going to go over a cliff and I’m going to die,” or those types of things — that forces people to think through, “Okay, what would I do in that situation?” and become very, very explicit in that form of an algorithm. Let’s say an algorithm is nothing more than a principle, which is now put in to computerese rather than put into words. I think we’re coming down that path in a faster way.

Of course religions think about principles, but the thing about religions is that in many cases they come as packaged principles, and they come from somebody else and then you move them along. I think that principle-level thinking nowadays allows the individual to choose his own principles and to be clear about those principles and, in a sense, operate that way. Now different institutions and organizations are operating differently, so I couldn’t comment on the whole universe. But I think inevitably these things are happening, and I just want to make it clear what those things are: Algorithms will form and will help to force the clarity of principles. We are probably in a society that is going from principles that are given to us by others in a more prepackaged way, a society that doesn’t think adequately about principles, to one that I think will evolve to making one’s own principles clear.

DUBNER: Let me ask you a flip side of the previous question. When you look around the world for an area or environment or industry or institution where you see that there’s an awful lot of behavior, an awful lot of decisions being made not according to principles but rather expediency or emotion or self-dealing or whatever — where do you see that happening a lot in particular? And yes this is a leading question, because what I really want to ask you about is politics. I see politics as something where we as citizens would like nothing more than principled behavior — even if it’s a principle that we personally don’t agree with — and yet it feels as though we’re in a political moment where principles are not being applied. And I guess I’m curious about your take on that.

DALIO: I think that’s exactly right. I think it would be an unbelievable world, but a better place, if each person — particularly those who are in leadership positions — wrote down their principles and walked the talk. And then that we as a country are clear in what the principles are that bind us together, and what the principles are that separate us. So being clear about that. And then to have good “idea-meritocratic” ways of working ourselves through those disagreements. I think that that’s the problem. First, not having clear principles clearly stated. And second, not having idea-meritocratic decision making that lets you move past it. Let me explain quickly what I mean by idea-meritocratic decision making. It’s, of course, hoping that the best processes for producing the best ideas win out.

Okay, three things you need to do: First, you need to put your honest thoughts on the table for everybody to see with other people’s honest thoughts so they’re clear. Second, you need to have the ability and protocols for having thoughtful disagreement. In other words, work yourselves through disagreements to make better decisions, and by having principles and being clear about that, that helps that second step of having thoughtful disagreement and getting past those disagreements. And then third, if you have remaining disagreements, you need to have an idea-meritocratic way of getting past that. We call that believability-weighted decision making — that’s a whole other topic if you want to digress into it.

But I think that’s been extremely powerful for us. And I think that as we’re entering a period in which we’re going to have a greater ability to have collective decision making because of the use of algorithms, and because also we can find out what everybody is like so easily. So I think that we’ll have to move in that direction. But if we don’t, we’re just going to be in our silos arguing and trying to kill each other.

DUBNER: You know, it’s funny — I read your book. I don’t know if you’ve thought about this or others have said this to you, but I read this as a little bit of an analog to Danny Kahneman‘s book, Thinking, Fast and Slow. Are you familiar with Danny and or his book?

DALIO: Yes, and it’s certainly the case that one thing is totally in common, and the reality is that when we’re thinking fast, we’re making a lot of decisions that come at a very fast pace. It’s like you can catch a fly ball and we can have this type of conversation without slowing down and making decisions. And then on the other hand, if you pause and you reflect and you think, “What are my criteria for making a decision?” and you could write those down, first in words and then words can be turned into algorithms, you can then make better decisions. And it’s so important for that — let’s call it thinking slowly, and articulating. That’s a very powerful thing.

DUBNER: I have to ask you, you’re, what, late 60’s, mid 60’s?

DALIO: 68.

DUBNER: Okay, and you weren’t a math guy per se. Right, you’ve learned as you went, I gather? Correct?

DALIO: Yeah.

DUBNER: Okay. Was your conversion to the power and the beauty of the algorithm gradual? Were you a little reluctant? Because you sound like a true believer in a way that many people even these days are not.

DALIO: Well, first of all, artificial intelligence began in 1953, that was the first time they did it and the ability to express yourself — there was econometric thinking and there was all sorts of ways of having one’s ability to express oneself. In my case — when I stumbled on it and then it was a radical key to success — I stumbled on it because every time I would make a trade in the markets, just as self-discipline I wrote down the criteria so when I would close the trade I would see how it worked in the past. I found that I was able to take that same criteria and then go back in time and see how that decision making would have worked. I’ve found that was unbelievable. Then I found that by expressing it in that algorithm — an algorithm is just a language, and so by working with people to get the language right, it’s not a problem. And then I was able to collect data as it was happening, on a real-time basis, and make the decisions. And then I found that it just radically improved the decision making, because I was operating in parallel with the computer, like playing chess — creating a computer chess game and that reconciliation. And I discovered over a period of time that the computer could make decisions better than I could because it could be more comprehensive. It could be quicker. It was less emotional. Anyway, it had all those benefits and it ended up compounding. So that has existed for 25 years, and of course as the technology and everything improves, you get better and better.

DUBNER: One more question back to politics for a second and then we’ll move on mostly to Bridgewater. So Jim Comey worked at Bridgewater for a while, and then more recently when he was fired as head of the F.B.I. you publicly defended him, calling him a man of integrity and a hero. You wrote that he is “a man of high principles operating in a low principles environment.” That is a disparity that a lot of people are going to run into. I guess it’s better to be a person of high principles in a low— than vice versa but I don’t know. Can you talk about the difficulty — forget about financial services or investing, even forget about government — but what do you do? What do you advise to people who do aspire to having a set of principles — whether they’re business, personal, political, whatever — and yet find that the environment in which they operate doesn’t appreciate, need, et cetera, them?

DALIO: You’re just describing a situation that helps one know one’s principles when things are at odds. The question is, “What do you do when they’re at odds?” So let’s say you’re a principle person and now you’re in an environment that is not principled. That will force a question, and that’s where principles come from. Which of those things are more important to you? In my opinion, as you’re dealing with it — I couldn’t be in an environment in which I didn’t have the right to speak up, the right to work things through in an idea-meritocratic way, I couldn’t do that. Now somebody else will say, “No. My principle is to serve or to have the particular authority to do that.” And so they would have, then, an overarching principle that would be a refined principle that would be different from my principle. My point is that by experiencing life and experiencing these things that are at odds and then reflecting in a high-quality way on that and your choices — that is the means by which you refine your principles.

DUBNER: One story from the ancient past — I just want to hear it in your voice because it’s so entertaining. Can you tell me briefly how you helped McDonald’s launch the McNugget?

DALIO: Well, okay — I graduated from business school in 1973, and I traded commodities, and I love to trade commodities, and I love the mechanics of it. There was something about — you can grow a chicken and it’s so many pounds of this and that that makes the chicken come around and blah blah blah. And I had two clients at the time: McDonald’s and a chicken producer. And McDonald’s wanted to come out with the McNuggets. But there was a lot of volatility in the chicken market at that time and they were worried that if they set a menu price and the price of chicken then went through the roof that they would get squeezed or they’d have to raise the prices and it would be unstable.

DUBNER: And were they worried that their introduction of the product was going to spike demand or spike price because of their action because they’re that big? Or orthogonal to that.

DALIO: They were just worried that the cost of the chicken would go up. But there was not a way for them to hedge that, because there was not an adequate chicken market. But the producer of the chickens — since a chicken is mostly a little chick and then it has a lot of grain that’s added, and you could use the futures market — what I did is I showed him how we can hedge his cost and that he could provide a fixed price to McDonald’s for chicken McNuggets.

DUBNER: He could hedge his costs by buying corn or buying or selling corn and soybean futures then, is that the idea?

DALIO: Yeah, corn and soybean meal futures because that was where his volatility was. He could lock it through. And so by doing that we engineered that. I don’t know how interesting it is, but it was an engineering exercise.

DUBNER: Well, it’s also a reminder that, these days people hear hedge funds and what they think of are, “Oh, those are the kind of ultra-exclusive-ish or good investment vehicles.” In the old days, however, hedging was a real thing as you’re talking about now.

DALIO: Forget about the term hedge fund. Everybody does all different things and they call it a hedge fund. It’s almost like saying it’s a mutual fund and everybody doing all different things. So I think it’s very confusing what a hedge fund even is.

DUBNER: In the old days you used to be a little bit on the arrogant side, didn’t you?

DALIO: Oh yeah. And then I had my ass kicked in enough times. It was a time — I remember the moment in late 1980, ‘81 — I had calculated that American banks had loaned to foreign countries a lot more money than those countries are going to be able to pay, and that we were going to have this terrible debt crisis and so on.

DUBNER: And you were right about all that. Correct in that part?

DALIO: I was right about all that, but the markets are a different story. The only good thing that counts is whether you’re right in the markets, and so because I had anticipated this and others didn’t, I was on Wall Street Week, I testified in Congress, and I got all this type of attention. And right at the exact bottom — when Mexico defaulted in August, 1982 — I said, “Okay, economic collapse.” That was the exact bottom of the stock market for I don’t know how many years. And I was so wrong I had to let clients go. I lost money. I got so broke that I had to borrow $4,000 from my dad. And then letting go people who were like extended family — and it was literally down to me.

That was a very painful experience, but it was one of the best experiences that happened in my life, because it changed my perspective from thinking, “I’m right,” to asking myself, “How do I know I’m right?” And that began the whole process of trying to find the smartest people I can find who disagree with me and be curious about what they think. To create a culture in which there is independent thinking — and you need independent thinking in the markets or in being an entrepreneur. You’re betting against the consensus. And there’s a high probability that you’re going to be wrong. And to have independent thinkers who know how to have thoughtful disagreement to raise the probabilities of being right, that’s when the light bulb went off.

I think the greatest tragedy of mankind — or certainly one of them — is people needlessly holding wrong opinions in their heads which they could so easily put out there and stress test and raise their probabilities of being right, but they don’t do it for various reasons. So it gave me the open-mindedness that I needed to balance with my audacity.

DUBNER: When you say that people don’t do that, that they’re not willing to expose their opinions to outside empirical inspection at all — when I hear that, the question I think is, well, why? Why don’t people do that? Are our egos that fragile? Are we worried about our reputations? I’m curious what you see as the reason for why people don’t expose — is that something beyond just ego and reputation?

DALIO: Well, I haven’t gone through it from 1982 or so to have the idea-meritocracy. It’s been a long journey, speaking to neuroscientists, speaking to psychologists, and so on. And there were two reasons for this. Overwhelmingly: what I’ll call the ego barrier and the blind spot barrier.

The ego barrier is that notion that we have two brains operating — our upper level us that’s thoughtful and wants to make the right decisions, and then our emotional brains that also hijack us. And we have a challenge of being able to deal with our own imperfections and our own weaknesses and our own being wrong. And our society reinforces that. It’s reinforced in schools about “Okay, you got the grades right, you’re right, you’re right, you’re right, you’re right.” It doesn’t reinforce the notion of failure and learning failures and that whole experience. So that’s the ego barrier. Why is it that people can’t be totally straight with each other? Because they’re all always so worried about what I call their lower level them rather than their upper level them. But that’s part of it.

The second being the blind spot barrier. What I learned is that everybody sees things differently — literally — through a lot of experimentation that we do where we see simultaneously how people see things. It’s remarkable how people actually see things. Some people will see the big picture, some people will see detail, and some people will see all different things. And what happens is, because you can only see in one, let’s call it seeing spectrum, you only are seeing that particular piece. And you think that that’s the right piece. And when you start to be able to see things through everybody’s eyes — then the world lights up and it’s a different perspective.

In other words, giving up the attachment to what’s in one’s brains as being the only thing and then being able to move beyond that and seeing things in other’s eyes and then transcending that so that we’re all above all these different ways of thinking. And saying, “Okay, given all these different ways of thinking, how do we find out what the best answer is? Knowing that we don’t know necessarily that the one in our heads is the right one?” And that’s a good idea-meritocracy.

DUBNER: So as a leader, in that case, when you understand that a lot of people might have a lot of different perceptions of a given scenario. Do you feel it’s more your job or maybe more important to try to get them to see the same things essentially, to reach a consensus vision of things? Or is it a value, is it an asset to have all those different views and it’s your job to collate all of them so you can see the big picture and then decide?

DALIO: First of all, I view it more collectively than you’re describing, because it almost sounds like here’s a boss who is saying, “What do I want to do?” I’m saying, in a sense, I want an idea-meritocracy that has a means of agreeing on those things. So what I’m saying is, “Okay, now when faced with this thing that we see that all these different points of view exist, then let’s collectively determine the rules of how to work ourselves through that.” What would we think is the best possible way of working ourselves through that so that we make the best decision?

And so we’ve come up with this process of — I’ll describe — believability-weighted decision making and so on, which has to do with making clear criteria of knowing who is good at what and who is bad at what in all these different dimensions that are agreed upon processes for determining who’s good at what and who’s bad at what. And then when we deal with that collective decision making, to be able to have clear protocols that take us to the best answer, assuming that everybody — a lot of people who are smart — are going to see things differently. Rather than wrestling with each other. A problem in most organizations and most interpersonal relationships, I think, is that they don’t have a way of getting past what stubbornly is in their head and going to operate idea-meritocratically.

DUBNER: And when you say they don’t have a way, that’s because there is literally not a preexisting set of principles, or at least agreements, about how we’re going to deal with differing views?

DALIO: Yes. And then even more fundamental than that — if you and I had a relationship, let’s establish the ground rules. Can we have thoughtful disagreement and be clear? Can I put those things on there? Do we have a process when we have a disagreement? Do we have an agreed upon process for resolving that disagreement? At a very basic level, it might be that we have somebody who helps to arbitrate. We mutually agree that we’ll bring in somebody and then they’ll say, “Okay, I think that’d be a fair judgement. Now, let’s work through that.” We have, by establishing clear protocols of “What’s your relationship like? What are the rules of that? How are you going to be with each other?” that take you from avoiding disagreement to appreciating it and moving beyond it so that you’re held together. That’s good. Writing principles also helps, of course, because it makes clear what you’re making decisions on. In other words, if I know your principles, and you know my principles, and we agree on principles of how we’re going to operate with each other, it becomes fantastic, and you have that idea-meritocratic decision making.

DUBNER: Let me let me stay on the macro. I promise we’ll get micro because there’s a lot I want to know about the truthfulness and transparency and the idea-meritocracy and so on. But let me just step back for one minute. So Bridgewater has been one of the most successful hedge funds in history. You are its founder; you were its C.E.O. for many years. You’re still a Co-C.I.O. You’re worth a reported $17 billion. So that’s a lot of success. Additionally, you, Ray Dalio, have this set of principles that you live and work by. So it would be pretty natural to conclude that you and/or your principles are responsible for Bridgewater’s success. So Ray, how convinced are you that that is the case and how can you tell?

DALIO: I want to be clear: What has made me successful is not me. It is these recipes, these principles that I’ve discovered over a period of time. And what’s made Bridgewater successful is those recipes, because if it was me-centered then we wouldn’t have an idea-meritocratic process and you could only get a certain amount of leverage out of one person. It’s a power of good principles, good recipes. So, I don’t know, you could take whoever — you take Albert Einstein or XYZ — if he’s following a certain set of principles… In my case, anybody can follow the particular principles that I’m describing. It’s just idea-meritocratic decision making.

Because the thing that you have to understand is that what is in you is only a small percentage of what you need. Okay? When you start to realize that what’s out there in the world of resources and different thoughts that you can have and how you can triangulate — in almost any issue you can get people who are are better and you do this triangulation process. And it’s fantastic. It enhances learning and it improves decision making. So that’s what it is. And I’m asking: Is that logical? Does that make sense? I mean I’ll ask you. Let me turn the question. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that logical? Doesn’t that approach make sense?

DUBNER: So, if you were to ask me that — you did ask me the question, so I’ll answer it. I would say that in almost any circumstance where empiricism carries the day, then the answer is yes. And the financial services industry is one where I would argue maybe more than almost any —

DALIO: It has nothing to do with the financial services. I’m asking you — let me clarify my question to you. Isn’t the best thinking on almost anything — you have a certain amount of thinking in your head, but there’s a world out there with the smartest people, and if you got the smartest people and you take your thoughts and you triangulate with the other smartest people and you make good collective decision making. Don’t you think that that’s a better approach, even for the best decision maker?

DUBNER: Yes. With a caveat. And the caveat is this: there are some kinds of brilliant people who are brilliant on a lot of dimensions but really bad in others. I’ll give you an example.

DALIO: But I’m saying, “Wouldn’t that person be better if they did that?” There’s a graph in my book that shows what an individual’s capacities to make decisions are on one axis and a degree of humility on the other axis. The most wonderful thing is to be able to have contact with the most brilliant people in the world — I would say with almost universal means of success that they’re great on both spectrums. Would you disagree with that?

DUBNER: I wouldn’t disagree with that at all.

DALIO: Thank you.

DUBNER: But I still want to tell you my caveat. And it’s simply this: For instance, if you look back 50 or 80 years ago, you could say that economists, academic economists, Nobel Prize winning level economists, were among the most brilliant people we had in this country. And yet the field of economics — while it advanced on some dimensions pretty well, it also really didn’t move forward or well on some others — both on the macro and micro level. And I would say that was because — this is just one example — the field of economics, for many years, did not incorporate the fact that humans don’t make decisions generally on a one-to-one level the way that their models would predict. So that’s an example where huge intelligence is valuable, but you need to bring in a different sort of intelligence sometimes to complete the picture.

DALIO: I don’t think that’s any disagreement. Let’s put that in my terms. My terms are that there is an upper level you and a lower level you. And in the language that you’re speaking, if you believe that you can make decisions only by assuming that people are rational, when they’re not totally rational, that’s dumb. And so if you’re talking about that old dumb economics where you’re assuming everybody is rational, then, okay that is dumb. And therefore we have to accept the fact that there are two uses, and that lower level has a big effect on behavior.

And that doesn’t diminish — it’s not even an equivocation to the thing we said before. Because if we take that and we said, “Okay, now let me assume that either of those things can be going on: that my subliminal thing is making me make the bad decisions and my best process is to go out there and find the most brilliant people to triangulate with and stress test my decision so that I’m going to make a better—,” won’t I make better decisions than if I didn’t do that?

DUBNER: I agree entirely. Although I feel that I’ve now disqualified myself from ever working at Bridgewater, because I feel I didn’t really present my challenge well. I blew it. I had my chance.

DALIO: It’s whether we have a good time together, right? We’re having a good time together, I think.

DUBNER: All right, so let me ask you: You’ve become famous, I would say, for encouraging what’s known as radical transparency and radical truthfulness — both of which are in pursuit of an idea-meritocracy. Give me just one concrete example — a micro example or story — to illustrate how either one of those — transparency or truthfulness — works in a daily encounter at Bridgewater.

DALIO: I’ll start with the truthfulness. If you’re not being clear and truthful about what you’re thinking, then in my opinion what you’re doing is being very inefficient, because everybody doesn’t know what everybody else is really thinking, and you’re probably reducing your probabilities of getting out what is actually true and how to deal with it. So it’s very inefficient and it’s an unethical position, because if I’m making judgments in my head about you or vice versa and I’m not allowing you to be part of that decision and understand the criteria, one of the most basic things of justice is the right to face one’s accuser. And to be able to have that conversation is what I will call integrity, not having duality. And so that’s what I think about the radical truthfulness. It’s inefficient. It’s unethical and so on. And then the first question is, “Okay, do you agree with that now?” And then we’ll get to radical transparency in a second. Do you agree with that?

DUBNER: I do agree with that. I agree with that on the rational and empirical level, but I can immediately foresee where there might be a whole lot of ingrained or emotional barriers to overcome.

DALIO: We agree on that thing. And then when you start to see that it would produce better outcomes for you and better outcomes for your organization, then you start to face a choice. And how will you deal with that choice? My experience has been that if you explain it and you also ask the other person, “Do you want me to tell you what I think, or do you want me to hold that back? Do you want to be free to tell me what you think, and can we work it through together?” The intellectual brain will — our upper level us will choose that. And when we realize that there’s a struggle within ourselves between our upper level and our lower level — which can do us that harm — we’ll operate in a better way. That’s been my experience. So that’s what that is.

So I would say, if we’re going to have a relationship — and it’s not just a company relationship — if I’m having a relationship with anybody, I want to know that I could be that way with them. That’s important to me. Now it doesn’t have to be to you. You can make your choices. But I think we’re all going to be better off, generally speaking, if we can get over those ego barriers or that painfulness moment of things like harsh realities. Do we want to deal with our realities or do we want to avoid looking at them?

DUBNER: So the empirical part of me, when I hear that explanation, I think, “Man, Ray Dalio, you are the boss. That is so good and so useful and so fresh to hear.” And I could see how that would be hugely valuable, whether in a firm, a government institution, or your family. Right? On the other hand, I can imagine that a lot of people hearing you say that are just scared out of their wits, thinking, “There is no way I want that kind of conversation at work or home or anywhere.” So what do you do when you encounter that baseline fear?

DALIO: I’m going to tell you then — I’m speaking to you out there who are the ones who are reacting that way — it’s an exercise, that, with practice, you can have it. And you go through a process. We call it “getting to the other side.” You come and you say, “I intellectually want to be that way with each other for that benefit.” Then you go through the experience, and it takes about 18 months, typically, through that experience. You go into it and you say, “Oh, it’s uncomfortable,” and so on. And then, while that’s happening, your upper level you is wrestling with your lower level you. You say, “Is the process fair? It’s a fair process,” and you believe it’s fair. You see that struggle and you intellectually do it. And if you do that, even in an ideal community that reinforces that behavior, as you go through it, it becomes increasingly comfortable and uncomfortable and operating the other way.

Because the other way — we watch this — some people can’t make it through. I would say maybe a third of the people are gone in that 18 month period. But the ones who go through it can’t go back to operating that other way, because they go into to an organization and they look at everybody and they say, “I know all the politics that are going on behind the scenes. I can’t speak up. I can’t have other people be straight with me. I can’t do that. I just can’t go back into that kind of an environment.” And when they’re in that state where they can’t go back into the other environment, they have made it to the other side, so to speak. And this is the healthy side to be in. Because it wins. It’s not just healthy for individual development. It makes the organization better. If you can have idea-meritocratic decision making, it makes individuals better, makes the organization better, and it’s a lot fairer.

DUBNER: A lot of your work at Bridgewater has been about individual development. It’s about changing the way people think and behave. Did you feel that that was necessary to attain the kind of business success you wanted? Or was that a kind of add-on that you felt would complement the work environment?

DALIO: It’s fundamental. It has nothing to do with business. It’s just how we’re going to be with each other and how am I going to face things. Things like, “Do I wanna know the harsh realities? Do I want to know my weaknesses?”

DUBNER: But do you not respect people who don’t — or, I shouldn’t say that, I shouldn’t put those words in your mouth. How do you assess, therefore, people who don’t want to know the harsh reality, don’t want that candid assessment?

DALIO: Well, first, it’s their decision. I just want them to understand the consequences of their decision. Look, if they want to smoke, that’s their decision. If they want to do whatever it is, it’s their decision. Everyone has the right to make their own preferences. That’s the individual decision making. Just as long as they understand that that’s what it is and that’s the consequences. And you pick your choice. But do it with your upper level self thinking like, “What do I want my life to be?” And try to make those choices that way, is something I’d recommend.

DUBNER: These principles that you’re talking about, how generalizable do you believe they are for firms and institutions all across America or all across the world?

DALIO: I think it is true for all organizations that these principles of — what is the circle of decision makers? And it may end up being that — in the country or an economy or whatever is — that a wide group of decision makers are operating that idea-meritocractically and the rest are kind of following instructions. So it becomes a matter of the width of that, the scope of that — is everybody in the circle? That’ll be a question that people have got to answer. The reason I wanted radical transparency — because we forgot to get back to that, but let’s get that — is because if I let everybody see everything — in other words, we literally record all conversations, let everybody see everything —

DUBNER: I know some people will have gotten that as you said it, but you said it pretty fast. You record just about all conversations at Bridgewater, and then those transcripts are available for anyone, yes?

DALIO: No, the actual tapes of them are available for anybody. I found this to be an invaluable tool.

DUBNER: Before we move on to the result of that — I can’t help but want to know about how that went over when you first — I want to know where you first got that idea and what it was like when you first introduced it at Bridgewater. Because that’s so radical. I mean Nixon did it. But he was an outlier, let’s say.

DALIO: Radical transparency allows everybody who is in that group to understand what is really going on so you can’t have spin. And then you have questions. And I found that I needed that, because people are looking at me and giving feedback — I need the feedback. Everybody needs that feedback. You can only have an idea-meritocracy as wide as people get to see things for themselves. Otherwise you’re going to get spin. Otherwise somebody comes out of a meeting, one person describes it one way, another person describes it another way. And you get the spin. Instead, it’s okay to watch people wrestle with decisions. It’s okay to watch people make mistakes. You’ll see everybody screw things up and it’s okay — that’s what humanity is like. And you see how people wrestle with that and improve and deal with it. So transparency is great.

And then every one of those, then, we find out, is an experience in which principles are being examined. So if you go through a case like having to fire somebody. Okay, now let’s have that conversation. Let’s look at that conversation. Okay, was that handled well, or was that handled poorly? And what are the principles behind how it was handled? So that you could say, “Ah, when faced with this choice, that may be very painful.” It’s painful for the person who’s being fired, and it’s painful for the person who’s firing them. And then they’re faced with another choice, which is the other pain that would be if they didn’t do that. And so by working oneself through those things — and you do it transparently — it helps to maintain quality control. It helps to make it much more inclusive so everybody sees what’s really going on without spin. And it helps to really think in a better principled way. So I found it invaluable.

DUBNER: Can you talk for a second about you as the boss either calling yourself out — maybe raising your hand and saying, “Man, I’m underperforming here.” Obviously, you’re being assessed all the time and everybody’s encouraged to do that. But has there ever been a time where you said, “You know what, I’m not executing at the level that I should be, and I need either help or I need a discussion about this.” Has that ever happened?

DALIO: Yes, I do that all the time because I’ve got strengths and weaknesses. And what’s most helpful to other people is people who catch me and see me do that type of thing, because sometimes — let’s say, for example, I can answer questions too long or I could be inarticulate or I can maybe not communicate with the person whose mind works differently than mine in a certain level or a whole bunch of other things. Because individuals’ minds work differently and everybody sees things differently, we all need other people to help point those things out. So I’ll raise them, but I find particular value when other people point it out, because I get to see through other people’s eyes. So isn’t that a great thing when you can see through other people’s eyes rather than not see through other people’s eyes? Doesn’t that make the organization better? The individuals better?

DUBNER: Are you often surprised by your colleagues’ assessments of you in a given situation?

DALIO: You know, I’m often surprised, but not very surprised anymore, because I’ve learned to not be surprised when those things happen.

DUBNER: In other words, you now know that the perception may not match up to the —

DALIO: I may not know — like, I could be in a meeting and I can think, “Oh, I was clear,” for example, and I could come out of that meeting and they could say, “Nope, you were absolutely so screwed up in terms of this particular thing.” And then I would say, “Yes, okay, now I see it. I didn’t see it at the time,” and then, “Okay, now I know,” because we collect the patterns of these things. And then I could see it over and over and over. By watching the data — because we’re very data driven about each person’s behavior — by watching the data, I will know that I will regularly have that particular type of problem, then it helps me, because I’ll go into the next meeting and I’ll be cautious about it. So it helps me improve. But in any case, yeah, that happens a fair amount. But I know my weaknesses a lot better than I did before and what to look out for, and people help me look out for it.

DUBNER: And what does it feel like when you get that corrective data? Are you grateful? Are you sheepish?

DALIO: Oh, it’s so great! What I’m talking here is rewiring our connections. Habit is one of the most important things. I’m interested in neuroscience. They say it comes from the basal ganglia which is in the old lizard part of the brain and it’s the thing that we follow all the time. And so my attitude has changed. My attitude even about mistakes has changed, because I start to view them as puzzles that will give me gems — in other words, I make a mistake where I get that kind of feedback and I say, “Oh, okay, the puzzle is what would I do about that the next time it comes along so I learn a lesson.” And the gem I get is a principle that I write down and say, “Okay, now I’m going to do that when the next one comes along,” and then I have to do it repeatedly. Like if I’m learning to ski and they say, “Put your weight on the downhill,” because that’s the thing to do. Okay, I gotta do it and do it until I internalize it. And that’s the way it works for me.

DUBNER: Can you give an example of one change that you made that was so difficult or counterintuitive that it really took a long time?

DALIO: Well, I guess the biggest challenge was in — I think it was 1993. I got together a group. I was being given my annual review by these people. So they gathered me together —

DUBNER: Colleagues at your firm, right? Not outside?

DALIO: Colleagues at my firm.

DUBNER: And how far down the ladder, if I may, was the lowest on the ladder? I mean was it well senior?

DALIO: Well the reviews are done by anybody you have contact with. So it’s a hierarchical thing, but this was a long time ago. And then these people, the senior partners said, “You’re making people uncomfortable. You’re demoralizing them with your straightforwardness, and if you bring up their problems and their weakness, you’re making them feel bad.” And I said to myself, “Whoa, I don’t want to do that to people.” And then I wrestle with the question.

So it put me in one of those junctures: Should I not be totally straightforward and have this radical transparency, or should we be straightforward, and how do we do it? And I wrestled with that particular question. And then I realized, “Okay, well I should talk to them about it.” In other words, we sat down and talked to each of the people. I said, “Gee, I didn’t know I was having that effect. Why didn’t you let me know? I don’t want to have that effect.” And then we had a good conversation of back and forth and then we agreed on how we would be with each other. And that started to then encourage me more to write down the principles and then together work with other people to try to say, “Okay, are we operating together according to those principles that make sense?”

And you could hear a lot of those principles and — like you point out — a lot of those principles, the radical transparency and that radical straightforwardness, can be uncomfortable. So by us working ourselves through that, we were able to operate differently than what would be instinctive. But it was one of those journeys. That’s the most terrible thing. That’s the most difficult thing.

DUBNER: The most difficult is when you find out? Not just the finding out that you’ve been doing something —

DALIO: The finding out is great. Finding out is great. The reason I’m saying that is if you’re making decisions, if you have a feedback loop, you’re going to want to change. in my case, I know if I’m making decisions in the market and I’ll either get electric shocks or pieces of candy, and rewards and punishments, what happens is, when you have mistakes, you realize that the electric shocks you want to get done with and you move that along. And in other organizations, if you’re having that type of clarity in whatever it is so that you’re working through, it’s going to change your desired behavior. So you like hearing it. Instinctually. I like hearing it. And I go calmly and I think about that. I think also maybe meditation has helped me a lot.

DUBNER: Ahah. You’ve meditated for a long time, yeah?

DALIO: Yeah. And I’ve also found that it’s helped a lot of other people a lot, because it gives them a calmness and an equanimity and almost a detachment from the ego thing so that when you come at it, you say, “Oh, is that what it is?” And in either case, I don’t know how much it comes from meditation. It comes from habit. There are lots of people who don’t meditate at Bridgewater and do it from habit. But it is that moment of, “Hm, is that true? How do I find out if it’s true?” And if it’s true, that’s where the real gem comes from, because that allows me to be better, and if I’m not embracing it then obviously I’m going to never improve, never change a thing. I’m going to keep banging my head against the wall. So I love hearing it. And then my saying that it was difficult or it has been the greatest difficulty, what I meant is getting people comfortable, being totally, radically truthful and radical transparency.

So just let me clarify in one sentence what Bridgewater is, or what I believe the best way of operating is. Okay? An idea-meritocracy in which the goals are meaningful work and meaningful relationships — they’re equally important and they’re self-reinforcing, they’re mutually reinforcing — so, an idea-meritocracy with meaningful work and meaningful relationships through radical truthfulness and radical transparency. I think that’s the magic formula for success, because when people know that you care about them — in other words, genuinely — let’s call it tough love. I think back to, I was growing up and Vince Lombardi‘s football team. They were winners. He pushed them, and he was tough, but there was a lot of caring and love of being great together. And if you have that meaningful relationship in which it’s very clear, not only does it help the performance and the being tougher along those lines, it provides a reward in and of itself.

When I look back on whatever my past has been and the successes, my greatest rewards have been the people and the relationships that I’ve had. The money has been an accident. I mean, it’s a good accident, but I happened to be playing a game that I love — that could be playing chess — but the relationships have been the most rewarding. So to be able to be both successful at the work and be able to be successful at the relationships and have those things mutually reinforce, and to do it through radical truthfulness with each other and radical transparency is a magic formula. In many ways it works for us. And it’s explained in greater depth in the book.

DUBNER: Quick question that I thought of when you brought up Lombardi: That sounded like well-deserved pride in a fellow Italian. You changed your name at some point; you shortened it a little bit. Is that true?

DALIO: Yeah. And, by the way, my admiration for Vince Lombardi has nothing to do with the fact that he’s a paisan.

DUBNER: I admire him and I’m not Italian.

DALIO: My last name was Dallolio. D-A-L-L-O-L-I-O. And when I was in I think a freshman in college, I talked to my family and I said, “Boy, that’s a mouthful.” And I took out a syllable, but I kept it Italian, because that was my heritage.

DUBNER: What’d your folks think? Were they okay with it?

DALIO: My dad said, “You’re so right.” I mean he had to wrestle around with D-A-L-L-O-L-I-O, Dallolio.

DUBNER: And he was a musician so he had a public profile. He dealt with his name being misspelled and mispronounced all the time I gather, yeah?

DALIO: Well yeah. And actually when he was dealing with others who didn’t know him well, he would actually use Mo Dale. So his first name was Marino, and then they would call him Dale.

DUBNER: So in appreciation of your principles and in pursuit of radical transparency myself, I’m curious to know if you could give anything for me about this conversation. So I say I love feedback. This show is really all about looking at data and looking at getting real, realistic feedback to help people improve their decision making, their lives, and so on. So this is a rare opportunity for me to have somebody on the other line who I feel — I’d be an idiot not to ask you to tell me some things based on this conversation we’ve been having that you think I could do better on. Things I should think about differently. Maybe I should interrupt a lot less; maybe I should shut up right now.

DALIO: No. So I’ll tell you, I think that you did an unbelievably fantastic job of asking questions, understanding, doing the back and forth terrifically within the particular timeframe. And then one thing that you might think about doing is making that where I’m asking you some questions and relate it, you know — that’s just something to think about. But let’s say if I was probing you on that and pulling out where do you agree, where do you disagree so that we could actually work things through to find out what is overlapping in terms of the real agreement and what isn’t a disagreement. I don’t think we’ve had adequate thoughtful disagreement in the conversation.

DUBNER: That is so interesting, in part because I grew up and trained as a journalist, and even though I’m a little bit more, let’s say, activist, and I speak my mind a fair amount, I still essentially feel that my job here is to be the proxy of the listener and to have a certain respectful attitude in that I’ll ask you a question, but it’s not my job really to tell you what I think about it. But it’s interesting that you’re saying from the other chair you want to hear what somebody actually thinks so you can engage more deeply.

DALIO: Well, first of all, you’re such a great professional doing what you do. It would be totally arrogant for me to tell you what chair to sit in and — you just asked the question. So I’d ask your listeners: would they like that or not? Just a thought to experiment with. But of course I’d be pulling you out, but you’d gain something from it. It would be something that’s interesting, anyway, for you to consider, because let’s say I’m turning the thing and I say, “Okay, let me reverse and we can play this game a little bit.” So, do you agree with what I said? Or what is it that you disagree with what I said? Is this way of operating a better way of operating, and then why doesn’t the world operate this way? Or are you just for your readers accepting this and going on, and so let me just turn that question to you just to see what you think.

DUBNER: It’s so interesting, because you’re doing to this format, this journalistic-ish conversation, you’re doing to this format what you did to the format of basically office structure, which is you’re busting it up and flipping it on its head by saying, “No no no, the format doesn’t have to be the one person asks the other the questions and maybe kind of parries a little bit or challenges a little bit.” But actually, the person being asked the questions — it’s incumbent upon them, or at least it would be useful for them to turn it into a conversation instead of what now strikes me — You’ve basically just invalidated the last seven years of work I’ve done, Ray, because basically I always think of this show as being truly conversational, but I realize now it’s kind of a replica of a conversation.

DALIO: Okay so now go on and answer my questions.

DUBNER: All right. Give me give me a couple of whatever you want to ask me.

DALIO: Well, I’ll just repeat the questions. Okay, so I described a way of being that’s an unusual way of being that seems to make for better decisions and that worked for me. So now you’ve heard it. By and large, does it make sense to you? Do you think that that’s logical? Do you think the answer is a question? Without getting first too tweaky about it, this is an alternative way of being. What do you think about this alternative way of being? Sensible? Not sensible? What do you like about it? What don’t you like about it? Tell me. Critique it.

DUBNER: I think it’s very sensible. I think it’s very logical. And I think that, even though I would probably put myself on a scale much closer to your end of things than average, it’s still scary. And it’s scary because most of us, I believe — Look, you’ve built an ecosystem with a language and a mode of behavior that, as you said yourself, it takes people a long time to acclimate to. I think in most ecosystems and most modes of behavior that most of us encounter every day — whether it’s in our work or our families — the conversation is so different. The rewards and punishments are so different for transparency and honesty, that it’s scary to think about engaging with it. So while I hear what you’re saying and I nod and I applaud and I actually cheer, I think, “Am I willing and able to actually adopt some more of this in my life, professional or personal?” Honestly, I don’t know.

DALIO: So if you were a partner of mine I would say, “I hear you. I understand it’s scary. So let’s together go through it in a way where we agree it’s logically the better way to be. And there’s really nothing to be scared about. You’re not going to die. You’re not going to get beat up. Okay? You’re going to encounter something different. You’re going to encounter your upper level you reflecting on your lower level you. It’s going to be an interesting experience. I guarantee: an interesting experience. So be adventurous; go into it. You won’t get hurt. If you don’t like it, you get out of the water.”

DUBNER: Can I have a pain button?

DALIO: Yes, that helps.

DUBNER: Can you explain the pain button for those who haven’t read your book yet?

DALIO: Sure. I have a saying that I believe captures progress. “Pain + Reflection = Progress.” Because if you’re having pain, it’s probably a signal that you wouldn’t want to have that thing happen to you. If you slow yourself down and you reflect in a quality way, “What is that reality, how do I deal with that reality?” and you come over your principles and so on, you will learn, you will make progress. If you don’t reflect and you have a lot of pain, you’re not going to learn. Okay.

So as we’re going through this pain button — it’s just an app that whenever you have pain, you push the pain button and it makes it very easy to describe what that pain is. It shows the type of pain it has and it shows who may be who you’re having pain with, or the circumstances — but you capture it at the moment. You don’t reflect that then. Then as time passes — because you’ve captured it and now you’re in a state of mind that allows you to reflect better — you can then reflect on that. Now the question is, “Okay, would you wanted to have done something different? Who should have done something different?” So you reflect. You write that reflection down, and that ideally should include an action you take.

For example, if that person keeps bothering you and causing you a lot of pain, or that situation keeps bothering you and causing pain, then what are you going to do about it? Are you going to speak to that person? And then what happens is it tracks you. So it has these little dials that shows the types of pain that you’re having, and it shows the sources of those pains, and it shows whether those pains are going down or not. And it shows whether you’re adhering to the things that you said you would do or not. And so it provides a biofeedback that allows you to connect what you’re experiencing to your actions and how you’re dealing with things to produce better results.

DUBNER: Excellent. I know we’re already over time. Can I ask you one more question or do you need to go?

DALIO: No. I’m good.

DUBNER: Great. Just one question about the most recent years at Bridgewater. I’d love you to talk for just a second, Ray, about when you stepped down as C.E.O. a few years ago and installed a new C.E.O. but then had to step back in as temporary co-C.E.O. I’m just curious what happened? What did you miss? Did you miss anything? I know the post-life of the C.E.O. — especially when they stay on in the firm — I’m guessing is always tricky? But I’d love to just hear your perspective on that.

DALIO: Well, first of all, I know that I don’t know how anything is going to go until I actually experience it. I have a saying: if you haven’t done it three times successfully before, you probably don’t know how to do it. Don’t be arrogant. And so when I undertook the process of transitioning, I said, “Well I think that this is going to go quick, maybe two or three years. But I’m not actually sure of how it would go.” And so that’s part of the process. So we began that particular process and I realized the transition from a founder-owned company to an independent company is classically very challenging. And so how do you approach that? How do you strike that balance?

I wanted to be totally a mentor — being there for other people and letting them do it the way that they wanted to do it. And then I found myself in the surprising position of having them struggle with that — unacceptably struggle with that. And this partner and the group of people struggled with that and found that particularly difficult. We all agreed that they found that difficult. So the idea-meritocratic — the evidence of that was clear. And then what was great about the whole thing is that we could approach that idea-meritocratically rather than emotionally. Because it’s a difficult thing — it’s the most difficult thing for the person who is struggling and not successfully getting there.

DUBNER: And this was a guy who you’d hired as a kid, essentially, and had been around forever and I gather were very close with, yes?

DALIO: Yeah. For like 20 years. And I love the guy. I mean literally, wonderful, deep relationship, and he’s a brilliant man. And at the same time, it’s the challenge of that person. And I think it was largely my fault too. I gave him too much. When the business grew up, there were two things: I had to get my head into all the investment and economic stuff that I do, and then also run a business simultaneously to do that. And any one of those things is too much for any human being, me included. And then to take that and then to give it to this person — I made the mistake essentially of giving too much. And, by the way, we’ve evolved past that.

So he’s back making investment decisions and I make investment decisions. We’re both co-C.I.O.’s along with another co-C.I.O. who’s been there. So we had that evolution. But we didn’t anticipate it. And we learned a structure. And I learned a whole bunch of things that I never understood before: like about governance. Look, I just ran the business and we did it in our partnership idea-meritocratic kind of way. But then how do you do the right checks and balances? Should you have a board? Should you not have a board? What are the processes and all of that? So it became a learning process that evolved over seven years.

When I originally started this, I’d say, “I think it’ll probably take two or three, but it might be up to ten.” And it turned out to be seven in which I could comfortably step out and have others do it better than me. Again, this, 2017, is my transition year from the second phase of my life to the third phase of my life, as I described before. And I look at that and I say, “There is a great team of people, and there’s such a pleasure to being able to watch beauty happen without being intervening along those lines.”

And so it’s that great journey, and now it’s their journey in that way so — that was what the experience was like for all of us. And if we didn’t have idea-meritocratic ways of having disagreements and having processes for getting past those disagreements that people thought were fair processes, we would have had a separation. But because people could think, “I might not be right, and the group in our decision making process is really good in thinking collectively,” we were able to get through that difficult time very effectively and evolve to a much better position than we were ever in.

DUBNER: I’m glad your story ended better than most of the heroes in Joseph Campbell. Right? Because the hero’s journey can be bloody at the end, and there’s often not the nice perch you’ve accomplished now, which is, you’re still in it, and you’re still part of it, but you’re no longer one of the two C.E.O.’s, so it must be a very gratifying position to have earned. And so congratulations.

DALIO Yeah, but as you know, the life isn’t over yet. And as you’re pointing out, in Joseph Campbell, heroes tend to get crucified or whatever. But I think if you can pass it along — I was faced with the choice. Honestly, I don’t like high profile. I don’t like to be in that position. And then I was faced with the choice: do I let that fear of that stand in the way of passing these things along? And I can tell you: there was a lot of fear in terms of this. But I am not in any way declaring victory; I have not yet gotten there. But I do find that there’s a necessity to do that.

DUBNER: Why didn’t you want the public attention?

DALIO There are so many ways public attention is bad, right? First of all, for various reasons, people don’t treat you the same, it’s not good for your family and your kids because all of a sudden they’re going to get the public attention. By and large it’s almost totally bad stuff, right?

DUBNER: Isn’t it strange how many people seek it out though?

DALIO: I think they just don’t know better.

DUBNER: I often think about that. You read about or talk to people who have accomplished a lot of fame, especially in the entertainment realm which is one where you choose to want to be noticed. There are other areas, like sports: you play sports, you’re great — if you happen to succeed you happen to become famous. You didn’t seek to become famous necessarily. But then there are other lines where you do and it seems that especially, even in the ones where you choose to, the regret is almost instant. The cost of fame is huge, which I would think that people would recognize by now, but they still seem to want it very badly.

DALIO: I think that what happens is that a lot of people who are not in that position — not only the issue of fame or accomplishment — think it’s so different than it really is. Even the issue of who’s successful — they think they’re really uniquely special people, rather than they’re stumbling on the way and failing. And everybody that I know who’s been successful has failed in important ways and has gone through that. That’s a reality. Everyone that I know who’s very successful has — and I know a lot of people have been very successful — also knows that they are weak in certain ways and that they know how to orchestrate other people so that they can get what they are missing. They’re worried about what they don’t know, and they value not knowing even more how to deal effectively with not knowing by more than that. And so we look at this, and there’s almost an idealization of such people that it doesn’t feel anything like most people expect it to feel.

DUBNER: I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed this conversation, and I thank you very much, and once again I congratulate you on the book and on this awesome third phase.

DALIO: Thank you. I enjoyed it too.

DUBNER: Great. Be well, Ray. Bye.

Thanks to Ray Dalio and all the other C.E.O.’s we’ve been hearing from over the past several weeks. And don’t forget to check out our entire “Secret Life of a C.E.O.” series. Also, please keep your ears out for our regular Freakonomics Radio episodes, which hit your podcast stream promptly at 11 p.m. E.T. on Wednesdays.

Freakonomics Radio is produced by WNYC Studios and Dubner Productions. Our staff includes Alison Hockenberry, Merritt Jacob, Greg Rosalsky, Stephanie Tam, Max Miller, Harry Huggins, and Brian Gutierrez. The music throughout the episode was composed by Luis Guerra. You can subscribe to Freakonomics Radio on Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. You can also find us on Twitter, Facebook, or via email at [email protected].

The post Extra: Ray Dalio Full Interview appeared first on Freakonomics.

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worldofadvent · 7 years ago

Text

NEO World of Advent Chapter Eighteen

Cero opened his eyes groggily as a hand suddenly drooped down from the side of his bed, smacking him in the face. He felt irritable and unrested, as though he had slept on something hard. Cero felt the solid metal of his flooring with a groan of realization. He had spent the night on something hard. Clover had refused to get out of his bed in a bid of stubbornness. It wasn't as though his bed was made for two people or as if she didn't have her own, entirely unused bed in the opposite side of the room, decorated in whatever girly colors Clover liked.

Apparently decorating her bed was a purely artistic exercise, however, as she had displayed no real intent to ever actually make use of it. He remembered talking about how comfortable it looked to Clover's oblivious comments about how she was used to his instead. He had made a makeshift sleeping bag from what little covers she was willing to relinquish and a pillow, but his back still ached from hours spent on inflexible hard ground. Doesn't she know we can't share a bed anymore, Cero thought irritably as he glared at Clover's peaceful face. Her face would forever look like that, he realized, stuck in between the stage of childhood and her would-be teenage years. It struck Cero that she might actually not realize why they had to use separate beds now after all.

Elves did not breed. They were either created accidentally through electromagnetic interference or purposefully, as Clover had been. Cero brought a fist to his forehead for once again failing to see things from her perspective. She was only about eight months old in real time and had likely never heard of humans' habit of sexual reproduction. His mother had probably neglected to clue Clover in on this facet of organic procreation, and he doubted his Dad would take it upon him to have the "Birds and the Bees" talk. Or, as his mother referred to it as, just The Talk.

Clover really did not relish the idea of having The Talk to Clover simply because she had at last taken on a form that was no longer socially acceptable for him, a fourteen year old, to sleep beside, but it needed to be done. It was fine when she only took up the end of the bed, but now she was too big to fit on merely the opposite side of the cot. She had also taken to getting under the covers, too Cero remembered. His face heated up with the memory of the first time she had snuggled up beside him. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. Even though he hadn't convinced her to move out of his bed yet, he couldn't in good conscience sleep in it with her.

Cero decided to make use of his being awake by taking a shower. Hopefully Clover would be awake by the time he was done, and he needed something to take his mind off of it. He turned the knobs in just the right way, relishing the stream of warm, but not unduly hot water in his hand as he tested it. Satisfied with the temperature, he stepped inside. Shower time was a surprisingly productive period for philosophical introspection, Cero had found in the past, and now was no exception.

It was amazing how quickly Clover had asserted herself as his most important person. He loved Ciel and Zero, of course, but they were his parents. They almost didn't count. That besides, there would always be a certain level of distance between them. He'd never had this sort of closeness with another being, not even Sorra or Grey. Sure, they were fun to hang around, but so much of the time they were off doing their own thing to spend time with him. And it wasn't as though the Resistance Base had that many kids to talk to. His age group was a rare commodity inside the Base; Cero was really the only young teenager in the building.

Clover had been his first real friend, he thought with some shame. He heard people talk about hanging out with friends before, but always wrote it off as time spent in the company of those who found each other's company mutually beneficial. He didn't expect the level of urgency he felt to make Clover think he was worthy of her friendship or that he wasn't too boring. Too often he had chased potential playmates away with subjects like Arcadian history or the off-putting level of interest he had in video gaming. Somehow, he had managed to not chase Clover away with his nerdy hobbies, and had even shared them with her by some happy twist of fate.

Well, one of them anyhow. Clover never really shared his interest for history books, but she was every bit the gamer he was; maybe even more so. He could talk to her about things he couldn't talk about or didn't want to with others. He felt less awkward around her, like he mattered when she were in his presence. When he told her that he had a hard time accepting that he was Zero's son, she told him that he was a hero in what way she could at the time. When he was Cero, he was a nobody. Or worse, the son of two legendary heroes whose legacy he could never hope to uphold. As Clover's best friend, he felt like he was actually worth something.

Others had only ever seen his blonde hair and intense blue eyes, too intimidated to look past his parents to see the awkward, stumbling nerd who hated violence but loved playing video games with it. Clover was different. But the same qualities that allowed her to not care about that resulted in her inability to understand basic social convention. For heaven's sake, Cero thought, she thought that if you hid under a cardboard box, that actually made you invisible after playing that game with all the incomprehensible storylines.

Clover was still learning about the world. It was unfair to expect her to know what he did with her relatively little worldliness. He had fourteen years worth of mistakes to learn from, while she only had eight short months inside one small corner of the world. He doubted as though Clover had ever even been outside the Resistance grounds or had ever even wanted to. She seemed content to rule over her small section of the planet with his parents, Hibou, Sorra and Grey, Aunt 'Lou, and the others who stepped in and out of their daily lives. She had no idea how big or scary the world really was just yet.

There was a sound of a video gaming being turned on in the other room and Cero realized that he had been in the shower for a very long time now. He dried off his wrinkly skin and brushed his teeth, spitting out a glob of minty freshness before putting a new set of clothes on. Thankfully he had the insight to take a fresh pair of garments with him before he stepped behind the shower curtain.

"Hey Cero," Clover greeted him as the door opened. Her back was to him as she engrossed herself in some sort of hack n' slash adventure. "Take that, minotaur," she crowed. "That's what you get."

"Hey Clover." Cero took in a deep breath. "Do you know why we can't share a bed anymore?"

"Um no," Clover paused the game. "Not really. If it's about space, I'm sure your parents can get us a bigger one. This one is kinda small, now that you mention it."

"That's not the problem," Cero said. "Two people sleeping in the same bed, especially if they're of the opposite gender… It's not something you're supposed to do."

"Why not?" Clover frowned. "I don't see a problem with it."

"It's not you," Cero said. "It's people. They would probably think we were doing something else in it."

"Who cares what people think? What's so wrong about us sleeping beside each other? It's warm and comfortable, even if you drool in my hair from time to time."

"Because it's what people in a relationship do," Cero explained.

Clover cocked her head sideways, confused. "Are we not in a relationship?" She seemed upset.

What.

Cero panicked, but realized that she probably didn't know what they meant, either. "Not like a friendship relationship, a relationship relationship."

'I don't follow. Am I missing something? I thought we were in a relationship," Clover explained. "I was told that two people in a relationship love each other and spend time with each other a lot and sleep together. Am I wrong?"

"They were talking about people in love," Cero explained. "It's different. Like how Mom loves Dad or how Dad loves Mom. Not like how I love Aunt 'Lou for example."

Clover frowned again; he could tell he said the wrong thing again. "Oh. Well, whatever. Let's go see if we can get more people to join that tournament thing." Her normal exuberance around the subject was deflated, her shoulder sagging. "Maybe if we say there's a prize more people will join."

Cero eyed her disappointment with some concern. Hopefully whatever it was would go away soon, he thought. He knew she wasn't happy about having to use a different bed, but it wasn't up to either of them. She should be back to her normal self soon, Cero thought. If nothing else could revive her natural exuberance, it would be the thought of pummeling their friends in the name of fun, friendship, and brutal pownage.

Downstairs, Cero's father was rubbing his eyes as he held a cup of steaming oil in the other hand. "Hello Cero," he said with a yawn. "Why are you up so early? It's usually noon before we get to see either of your faces."

"Couldn't sleep," Cero said. "The er, bed was too hard or something."

Zero nodded knowingly. "I can relate to not being able to sleep," he said. "Do me a favor and tell your mother that she can work on whatever project she's found herself caught up in during the day, will you? It's impossible to get any sleep with her machines making noise."

"I'll let her know." Cero gave him a questioning look. "So why are you up if you didn't get any sleep?"

"Oh I got some sleep," Zero said. "It's your mother who's managed to spend the entire night not getting her rest. She's passed out on her work desk right now. I would move her, but the last time I put her back in bed, she accused me of messing up some of the equations." The subject was apparently a sore issue for him.

"Aunt 'Lou's the same way," Cero said. "She's too focused on whatever new treatment or cyber elf design is happening to properly take care of herself."

"Let's just say that Ciel passed on a few of her undesirable traits among her positive ones to her sister," Zero said. "I hope you don't follow their example."

"I'll try?" Cero made no promises; it wasn't as if he hadn't spent entirely too much time trying to crack a certain encryption or figure out his own unique brand of hacking. "But you can't blame me if I do. I come by it honestly."

"Don't I know it." Zero nursed a long sip of the steaming oil. "You know, this is supposed to help reploids stay awake. I'm told that the crystals used are freshly ground. I can believe it."

"Does it help?"

"No," Zero said as he threw the mug, liquid and all into the trash. "But it sure tastes like dirt." He walked away, grumbling irritably.

Cero stared at his father's retreating form, wondering if he had just made a dad joke. "Weird…"

"Your father sure acts differently when he's cranky," Clover remarked. "I thought he was immune to morning syndrome."

"Apparently not," Cero said. "I guess everybody has their limits."

"You think we should have asked him about the tournament," Clover wondered. "It might not have been the best time though, come to think about it."

"Yeah," Cero said. "Just let him work it out in the weapons room. He's always happier after he sets a new record for number of bulls-eyes hit in a short manner of time."

"That's a thing?" Clover laughed. "Who's in top place?"

"Dad, obviously." Cero recalled the scoreboard. "He's also second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh place too."

"Not a lot of room for competition, is there?"

"Nah." Cero smirked. "But there's a reason why he's hosting the tournament in the first place; nobody would ever join if it meant fighting him."

The two of them spent the day coming up with clever ways to trick people into participating in their tournament. Clover wanted to have their agreement in really fine print beside some sort of contract, but Cero said it was illegal. And highly immoral, he added, wondering not for the first time if his elf was an evil mastermind in the making.

By the time lunch was ready for them all, Zero had apparently found solace in knocking the eighth ranking tally from the scoreboard and was back to his gruff, stoic self. "Your mother will not be joining us," he told Cero. "She is busy making up for the sleep she denied us both last night."

"I'll try to get her to stop being such a night owl," Cero said, "But I don't think I'll have much luck."

"I doubt you will either," Zero said airily, "But maybe your input will be worth more than the countless times I've told her to get a proper rest. She has an annoying habit of discrediting sources that are inconvenient for her, such as a brain needing a good eight hours' break from advanced engineering."

"She does tend to do that," Cero said. They both knew how she would often find some inherent flaw in a study that got in the way of her abusing her body in the name of science. "Maybe if you frame it right, she'll listen. It's not like she's getting anything done now and your brain does work better with a good amount of sleep."

"Try that," Zero said grumpily. "Maybe then she will listen to reason." He sighed into another cup of whatever he had tossed out earlier. "This really does taste awful. By the way, Hibou said he was interested in that tournament of yours."

"Hibou?" Cero took in the information in bewilderment. "He's the last person I expected to be interested."

"I doubt he is really interested in the tournament so much as impressing a certain someone by being in it," Zero said in a rare expression of derision as he rolled his eyes.

"This is really getting out of hand," Cero said. "At this rate I'd be surprised if she doesn't know. He's done everything short of actually talking to her."

"Oh I'm pretty sure Allouette remains blissfully unaware," Zero said. "It would take something pretty drastic for her to put her nose in anything other than that clipboard of hers."

"Which is good for Hibou I suppose," Clover said sadly. "It's lonely loving someone without knowing if they love you back."

Zero took a careful sip of coffee-oil. "It might be for the best."

Clover shook her head defiantly. "No. He should fight for her affection."

"Maybe," Zero said. "Just so long as he is prepared in case she does not feel the same way about him." Clover huffed in an uncharacteristically sour mood.

"What was that about?" Cero looked at Clover in concern. "It's not that big of a deal; I'm sure he'll get around to it eventually."

"I'm sure he'd make for a good relationship," Clover said, "If Allouette would just give him the chance. Don't you agree?"

"Yes?" Cero looked to his father for support. "Am I missing something?"

"You'll figure it out," Zero told him. "For now, I suggest you go hit Colbor and Faucon up and see if they want to join the tourney. I saw them practicing in the target range earlier."

"Probably to knock someone else's record off the spreadsheet again," Cero said amusedly. "You know you're the reason why Mom has to keep resetting them, right?"

Zero said nothing, just hummed and tapped the table. "You should hurry," he said eventually. "They might be headed up to eat soon."

"Alright." Cero wished his father a good day as Clover tugged his arm toward the exit, unsatisfied with his normal walking pace. Soon, they were sprinting to the elevator shaft, where they took to the munitions firing range, or MFR for short.

"Hey there Cero!" Colbur waved them over as Faucon's eye remained fixated on his own targets. "Come to practice your aim?"

"Nah," Cero said. "I wanted to ask you guys a question. Would you be interested in joining a tournament of ours?"

"It has a million prize zenny," Clover added quickly.

"No, it doesn't," Cero said smoothly, shushing his duplicitous friend. "But it should be really fun. Kind of like the Grand Serena."

"Sounds fun," Colbur said. "I can't speak for Faucon here, but I'd be interested in joining." There was a clatter as Faucon let his rifle down.

"Sounds fun," he said. "I was trying to make it on the scoreboard this time before Zero filled it completely up. I guess I'll have to settle for ninth place. Oh well," he said as he admired his handiwork. "In a way that makes me second if all the other scores are your father's."

"Speaking of which," Cero said, "Wouldn't it be simpler to just update the first place instead of posting the top scores in succession?"

"Oh yeah," Colbur said. "Totally. But every time we bring it up, it gets rejected by the MFR Committee."

"Who's in the MFR Committee?" Cero had never heard of it before.

"Zero," Faucon said. "Just Zero."

"That explains a lot, actually." Cero eyed the first eight scores with a shake of his head. "I guess being a legendary maverick hunter isn't good enough for his self-esteem."

"Don't tell him we said this, but your Dad can be a bad sport sometimes," Colbur said. "I respect the guy - I mean, who doesn't? But it'd be nice if we could be at least second place at something for once."

"You could sneak down when Ciel changes the scores," Clover suggested. "That way you could be first for a bit."

"Zero decides when they get taken down and Ciel only makes him do it when they're all in his name." Colbur sighed. "He's a monster."

"Maybe we should try our luck in one of the Arcadian shooting ranges," Faucon said dejectedly. "At least Zero probably won't hog up the scores for himself there. Neo Arcadia has to be notified every time he sets foot in the city limits," he explained.

"Really?" Clover sounded surprised. "I thought we were on good terms with them."

"We are," Colbur said. "It's just that he kind of counts as a 'Weapon of Mass Destruction' and was on the Most Wanted list for a good number of years. Seeing him roam the streets might make people nervous."

"What's the city like?" Clover looked deep in thought. "I've never been."

"It's big," Colbur said. "It's not like the Resistance, where we all know each other from somewhere. A lot of the people there won't ever see each other after passing by. But there's some pretty neat stuff if you're willing to work around all that."

"I do like neat stuff." Clover tugged at Cero's sleeve. "Hey, can we go?"

"I'd have to ask Mom," Cero said. "She said to ask her if I wanted to visit the city."

"Then what are we waiting for!" Clover tugged harder. "Let's go!"

"See you later," Faucon told them. "I'll see if I can get the tenth spot in the meantime."

"On no you don't," Colbur said through the lens of his own rifle. "That one's mine." The two bantered good-naturedly as Cero and Clover made their exit, both signatures secured for the tournament.

Clover hovered by Cero's side as he clutched his mother's door handle hesitantly. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."

"Quiet," Cero hissed. "I don't want to catch her in a bad mood. If we wake her up, she might not let us go." He creaked open the door gently, allowing only a trickle of light to alert her of their appearance. "Mom?"

The room was already lit, its sole occupant scrambling to cover something up before realizing who was at the door. "Oh good," Ciel said, holding a pencil to a sheet of paper. "I thought you were your father for a moment there."

"What are you doing," Cero asked suspiciously. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"What your father doesn't know won't hurt him," Ciel said. "It's just a few harmless equations. I'll go back to bed once I'm done."

"Right..." Cero said. "Well, I was wondering if you could let us have a transfer to the city. If you're too busy, I could always just ask Dad…"

"No!" Ciel cleared her throat. "No, that won't be necessary. You can go. Just er, be sure not to let it slip that I wasn't getting my forty winks, will you? Here, have some pocket money for your trip." Ciel passed him a wad of bills with a wink. "If he asked, I was asleep."

"How would you give us permission in your sleep?" Clover pointed out the obvious flaw in her plan.

Ciel frowned. "Tell him you woke me up. I wasn't happy, but you pressured me into letting you go. Have fun! Now if you'll excuse me, I have some solutions - er sleep, to get back to." She shut the door with a guilty wave of her hand.

Cero closed the door. "I feel dirty," he said. "I was supposed to get her to sleep, not get bribed."

"Who cares," Clover said brightly. "I don't mind being the dirty cop if it means going outside for once."

"You know," Cero said. "I think you'd make an excellent villain."

"You really think so?" Clover seemed to take it as a compliment. "I've tried looking for games where you play as the bad guy, but they're so hard to find."

Cero rolled his eyes. "I don't want to have to be the guy who has to save the world from you," he warned. "Don't go all villainy on me."

"I wouldn't try to take over the world," Clover told him. "That would be too much work. I'd be content with some kind of gang, like the mafia."

"Oh good," Cero said sarcastically. "So long as it's just the mafia, that's fine." The conversation turned into a debate over the morality of antiheroes as they made their way to the transerver. "Hey Rouge," he greeted the operator on duty. "Mom said we could go to Neo Arcadia."

"Did she now?" Rouge picked up a phone. "Let me just check with her real quick."

"She's erm, sleeping." Cero felt the lie slip out with a internal shudder. Maybe he wasn't that different from Clover after all. "Best not to wake her."

"Okay," Rouge said. "I trust you. Are you two ready for transfer?"

Cero turned to Clover. "Are you?"

"I think so?" Clover looked up at Rouge. "How do you get ready?"

"Just stand still," she advised them. "The motion sickness will wear off in a minute."

"Motion sickness?" Clover latched on to Cero tightly as blue waves appeared around them. "What motion sickness?"

Cero found himself beside a very woozy cyber elf a second later. Clover groaned into his shirt, as if smothering her face in his sweater could block out the feeling of nausea. "Are you okay," Cero asked. "It takes a bit of getting used to."

"I think I'll take the train next time," Clover said. "That was not my favorite way to travel."

'It's fast though." Cero looked around them, at the tall spires and endless waves of people passing them by. "Nothing beats teleportation."

"I think I still need to put a few skill points into my transmission abilities." Clover groaned, but was steady enough to look around on her own. "Big place."

"It gets bigger." Cero jumped back as someone whizzed by them on a Slider. "Watch where you're going," he called out. "Maniac."

"We should hold hands," Clover suggested.

"Yeah," Cero said. "I wouldn't want you to get lost in this place."

"Yeah, that's it." Clover cleared her throat. "So, where are we going?"

"Anywhere we want to. There's an ice cream shop if you know what that is. It's kind of sweet and they sell E-Crystals of the same flavors."

"I know what ice cream is!" Clover explained that even though she can't digest human food, she liked to taste it from time to time. "Someone left a tub of it in the cooler," she said.

"Well you can actually swallow this stuff." Cero directed her to the Iron Maiden, a rather risque shop depicting a female reploid in a seductive pose. Clover raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mom doesn't have to know," Cero said. "It's just a decoration anyway. The food's really good."

"I suppose Ciel doesn't have to know if ice cream is involved," Clover said. "Lead the way!"

Inside, Cero found himself hoping that he went unrecognized, but was soon disappointed as a few Advents sitting at a nearby table pointed at him excitedly. "This is a popular hangout for Advents," he said. "It sells human and reploid food."

Cero and Clover waited their turn at the counter until the clerk took a good look at Cero and called his manager over. "Are you that Resistance Kid," the manager asked Cero. "You look just like him."

"Yeah," Cero said, rubbing his neck. He actually hated it when people called him 'Resistance Kid.' It reminded him that no one took the time to see him as Cero. "It's Cero, though. Call me that; it's simpler."

"Alright Cero," the manager said. "I'm Reggie. What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping I could get a banana split," Cero said. "What do you want, Clover?"

"I'm still deciding." Clover's eyes browsed their selection intently. "Hey, what's chocolate flavor?"

"Are you two on a date?" The shopkeeper watched Clover with some amusement. "I don't remember seeing her before."

"No, nothing like that," Cero told the man. "She's my elf. Are you done deciding?" he asked Clover.

"Not yet," Clover said. "What's in Moose Tracks? What's a moose?"

"Just get chocolate," Cero advised her. "It's a good flavor."

"I need to make sure I get the right one. Do you have samples?" Clover spent the next fifteen minutes sampling every flavor they sold. Cero's two scoops of vanilla were already melting by the time she made her selection, the chocolate flavor Cero had suggested from the start.

"Hey man," a table of Advents called them over. "My name's Tom. Are you the Resistance Kid?"

"He likes to be called Cero," Clover said through a mouth of chocolate flavored crystal. "This is good. Do humans have something like this?"

"Yeah," one of the people at the table said with a snicker. "It's called chocolate." One of his friends gave him a high five. "So Cero. What's it like having Zero as your old man? I bet you know all kinds of sick moves."

"I don't actually like fighting that much," Cero admitted. "This is Clover, by the way."

"He's my Advent," Clover informed them. She made a sound of ecstasy as she chomped on another mottled brown crystal.

"He's your Advent?" He turned his attention back to Cero. "Are you sure you don't know any badass sword swings?" He held out a hand for Cero to shake. "That's lame. But it was nice meeting you, kid. And uh, elf."

Cero shook it, ignoring the glare Clover gave him as he did so. They found an empty table, where she ignored his presence in favor of sweet, sweet cocoa. "I can't correct everyone I meet, Clover." Cero munched on a piece of candy in his banana split. "It's not like the whole world knows you don't like being called that."

"It's the way," Clover began but shook her head. "I guess it doesn't matter. But how is it okay if I'm your elf, but it's weird when you're my Advent?"

"People are weird. Look, I'm sorry. I don't feel that way, but I can't go arguing with everyone who does. Besides, that would make the Resistance look bad if I did."

"Alright," Clover conceded. "I guess that makes sense. You can buy my forgiveness with another one of these." She popped the last crystal in her mouth, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"I'll get you vanilla next," Cero said. "Those are the classics."

"I shall defer to your expert opinion." Clover swung her feet back and forth in anticipation of more sweets. Soon, she was busy debating whether she liked the sweet but subtle flavor of vanilla or the rich creamy sensation that only chocolate could provide. "It's so hard to choose," she said. "Hey, what's that?" She pointed to a shop filled with icons like keychains with the main characters of Spellblade hanging off the edge or wallets depicting a certain kind of animated show.

"That's just a pop culture shop," Cero said. "They're a dime a dozen."

"It's beautiful." Clover was already immersed in the waves of cheaply made trinkets and accessories. Soon, Cero lost her in the sea of merchandise. On the other end of the shop, she called out his name. "Cero, over here! Look what they have!"

"Keep it down," Cero told her. "You have to be quiet inside of stores, even if it's like this one."

"But it's the Forest Spirit's cloak," Clover said excitedly, pointing him at a set of robes worn by a female mannequin. "No way. It's the whole thing!"

"Yeah," Cero said. "It's called a cosplay. People dress up as their favorite characters and go to conventions in these."

"You knew about this?" Clover pointed an accusing finger at him. "What else have you been holding out on me?"

"It's just a costume," Cero told her. "And there are a lot better ones than this one." He could see his words were lost on Clover as she got the shop clerk's attention.

"How much is that one," she asked. "The Forest Spirit cosplay."

"It's a little expensive," the clerk said. "Do you have three thousand zenny?"

"Cero," Clover said desperately, "How much did Ciel give you?"

"Not that much. Besides," he said, "I'd be in trouble if I spent it all at once. Let's leave; there are cooler places to visit."

"Wait," she asked the clerk. "Do you accept autographs for discounts? I know Zero. He's this guy's father."

The clerk rolled his eyes. "Sure you do, miss." He walked over to help another customer. "She knows Zero. Yeah, right."

Cero glared at her. "You know I hate it when people use my name like that. What gives?"

"Sorry Cero." Clover looked genuinely remorseful. "I got a little excited."

"It's okay," he said. "I just don't want people to actually ask for an autograph. It's like people expect me to carry his signature with me everywhere I go."

"I won't do it again," Clover promised. "But I do want to keep looking around. What's this?" She held up pen with the head of the six headed samurai stuck on the end of it. She pressed its head and it lit up. "Ooh, shiny."

"You know you can do that with your entire body, right?" Cero reminded her that she could turn herself into a minor beacon at will by using one of her animal elf traits. "How does that excite you?"

"Don't ruin this for me," Clover said. "I want to revel in neo-capitalistic glory for a bit before I become cynical and boring. Like you," she added with a playful poke.

"Forgive me for losing my mind over a pen with a head on it," Cero said. Clover gave him a pouting look that let him know she wanted it.

"Please, Cero? I'll be your best friend."

"You said I already was." Cero folded his arms. "I'm not buying that."

"Please?" Clover cranked her puppy eyes up to maximum voltage. Cero sighed. Soon, the two of them left the shop as Clover clicked the pen nonstop. "I wonder if they sell more of these."

"Please don't." Cero groaned, but couldn't help but smile at Clover's giddy expression. She was a true force of nature, doing as she pleased with hardly any regard for what others thought about it. "Come on, take my hand. I don't want Mom to worry if we've been gone for too long."

Clover took his hand happily, humming a tune that the shop had played in the background. She swung the two of their arms back and forth as they waited for the return transfer.

#megaman #megaman zero #mmz #capcom #ocs #long story #fanfic #fanfiction

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musikmusing · 8 years ago

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A MUSICAL AMALGAMATION OF ITS PARTS: SEATTLE’S HONCHO PONCHO

(By Regan Wojick for Amadeus Magazine)

Honcho Poncho are five guys who grew up in the middle of one of music’s most beloved cities; the one and only, Seattle, Washington. And they took advantage of growing up in their rainy city by immersing themselves in the wondrous music scene.

The group, made up of Kalin, Charlie, Jonah, Owen, and Sam, are all working musicians who’ve played in a range of different bands, inheriting sounds from every genre they’ve at one point or another inhabited. No matter if they’re playing in Mary Lambert’s band or a funky R&B combo, Honcho Poncho is the band they call home. The guys don’t necessarily set out to be something different, but different is exactly what you get when you find yourself listening to their knee-clapping, foot-tapping debut album Late Night. It’s an entirely appropriate title for an LP that took hundreds upon hundreds of late nights to make… around 730 days to be exact.

Late Night was a record based on trial and error, and it becomes evident in the eight meticulously-crafted songs. It’s full of those late-night-feel-good tunes that you’ll find yourself listening to when it’s long past midnight and it’s just you with your closest friends. The folk-rock album effortlessly emphasizes classic strumming acoustic guitars and vibrant piano melodies, all while adding their own alternative, Honcho Poncho twist. We had a chance to talk to the founder, frontman, and lyricist of the group, Sam where we got to talking about the origins of Honcho Poncho, our favorite lyricists, and fellow Seattle native Father John Misty.

How did Honcho Poncho begin. Where did you all meet and how did you all come together to form the group?

It started when I made a series of recordings by myself and wrote a couple songs. I took those and applied to a music festival in Seattle called Sound Off! I was accepted and then I needed to form a band to surround me. So I started gathering folks that way initially. The new lineup was formed one summer when I was working at a festival called Doe Bay Fest and I ran into this guy named Kevin who booked the festival. He offered me a spot at another music festival called Chomp! At that point I started gathering the crew again and we started now with our current lineup. That was our first show altogether.

All of you kind of came from different genres – a couple of you were in garage rock bands, you were in a folk/country band – is that how you guys kind of chose to go the folk, alternative rock route?

It’s just sort of the music that I write. I’ve always found it really difficult whenever I join a band that’s like, “We want to be this type of band!” I mean, it’s fun and you can do it, but it doesn’t feel as authentic as when you have a group of songwriters and we’re all just writing what comes to us naturally. I think after picking up all of the different styles from playing in punk bands and country bands, I eventually started mixing it all together. Those guys bring in a lot of different stuff: Kalin is in an R&B funk band, and Owen, our guitarist, he gets around town as a jazz guitarist. We’re all coming from really different places. Our bass player plays bass for the Mary Lambert Band, but this is home base now. We all go off and do our own thing, but this is the thing that we call home as a project now.

So everyone’s sort of focused their gears towards Honcho Poncho now?

We all knew that we were interested in playing in it, but we didn’t necessarily have the means. Sometimes it takes a little financial interest to get behind a project, especially for these guys who are all working musicians. With this one, we all just sort of showed up and were like, “Hey, these tunes are really fun to play and people really seem to like them, so why not just keep going with it?” Everyone needs what I like to call “Scooby Snacks,” where it’s just like your songs get added to rotation on the radio station and people keep listening and buying your stuff. It’s just sort of ya’ know…just Scooby Snacks! Everyone gets excited and they can keep going because they’re doing what they love.

Do you think that growing up in Seattle has played a part in all of your guys’ musical identity? Or do you not really see Seattle as part of the equation?

I think it’s a huge part of the equation. I mean we live in an age where we have information at any time, but you still can’t escape the fact when you turn on the radio in Seattle, you’re probably gonna hear Fleet Foxes. There are sounds that have come out of here and have faded away, then have come back. The genres are in an interesting cycle in this city, where it depends on what band has branched out from a certain genre to make it sort of solidified in a public sphere. What I dig about what Honcho Poncho is doing is that it seems to be something that I don’t see a whole lot of other bands in this sort of age in Seattle doing. That could either be a really good thing or a really bad thing. Who knows? I think that a lot of artists in Seattle sort of wait for their moment in a way. They wait for when their work is needed and then the community is so supportive here that I think it does play a huge role in it. I mean things like KEXP, and all of the different concert series and festivals that go on around town; it’s a really supportive community. It’s a very open access point too. There’s not a whole lot of homework that you need to do in order to be in the right rooms.

I’ve noticed that Seattle breeds a lot of garage-punk bands.

Yeah! It’s interesting because I think that the three waves – and it’s hard to say if we’re in one now – but I think that way back we had grunge, then we had the folk rock era, and now we’re sort of in another rock and roll phase, but it seems a little more like everyone’s swimming, looking for what exactly the town is in the mood for. There are a lot of old itches that are being scratched by a lot of bands in town that reminds me of another time when other bands were playing around town like Built to Spill. Yet no one’s really been like, “Hey you sound like that other band from another time,” which is refreshing. It happens a lot and it’s hard to escape especially when you’re in a town where music is so cherished, local music especially. It’s easy to kind of cross breed those styles.

That makes total sense. I feel like for rock and roll… nostalgia is nice but I think that being new and different is a lot better, obviously. It separates you. Listeners won’t try to pigeonhole you. So when you were growing up in Seattle, was music something that you always wanted to pursue?

Yes. I mean, I think it’s sort of hard to not. It’s a tradition. It’s passed down in this town almost. It’s sort of inherited. I think, especially for young people, the avenues to play music are immense. If you choose to not take those avenues, it’s almost a very deliberate choice not to. There are a lot of communities here that are all about all-ages music venues. My weekend night as a twelve-year-old was going out to see local music. Obviously that is incredibly inspiring, and it never stops.

Do you think there was a particular moment or person where it just clicked for you, where you were like yeah this is what I want to do?

I think it was through a series of fortunate events that have led to the position to really go all the way on it. A lot of it had to do with community support. I think that once you get that blessing from whatever community you’re a part of, it’s easy to make that decision. I’ve been really humbled by the last couple of months by just seeing how the music’s been received and the support of fellow band members, and I think that’s what made it really real for me; recognizing how much friction there can also be. It can be work and it can be something that you get better at. I think one of the greatest dynamics of our practices is that we definitely do not coddle each other. I think we can sometimes push each other in a way that can be really hurtful, but in a really healthy way too. We hold each other accountable for a lot. We all know we can do that much more as individuals. We all trust each other well enough that if one of us is missing the mark, that person feels accountable and should feel accountable for their mistake. And also know that they’re forgiven. It’s a weird mix. No hard feelings… but we all know that you fucked up. That was inspiring. I come from a theater background and was an actor for a couple of years. That’s a very critical environment in a really healthy way you know, it wouldn’t exist without criticism. I think that’s something that some bands don’t focus on, and don’t embrace, and don’t cherish: the criticism. They just kind of show up, play their tunes, and rock out super loud and super hard. Really it should be about the individuals and focusing on one person at a time to make sure everyone’s with the herd. Working in that environment is probably the most inspiring for me.

That’s a really interesting perspective. So when you guys are practicing and going through these songs, making the album… I’m sure that criticism is something you guys really held with high regard.

Yeah, it was a monstrous process. It was a two year process basically. It’s actually around the 2-year anniversary of the beginning of the process of this new LP.

Happy anniversary.

Thank you, you’ll get your gift in the mail! I recorded it all with Kalin, our pianist and when we were three days from saying it was done, Owen, our lead guitarist came in and said “this isn’t done yet. Here are the twenty ways we can make this better.” From that point, it took another 6 months. We scrapped a lot of material and a lot of parts. We re-recorded a lot of stuff and just used better equipment. The whole process went from December 2014 to July 2016. There was never a dull moment too.

There was always something that was in the works too. I was living out of Walla Walla, Washington, and was communicating with them from far away and I’d come back and record some sessions. I’d be on the phone with them a lot. They’d send me mixes and we’d send each other notes. It was an album built on criticism that I thought was really beautiful because there was no decision that wasn’t questioned. I heard a story about Gene Wilder and about how when he was writing Young Frankenstein with Mel Brooks that he would be writing all day and Mel Brooks would come over for dinner every night and would sit down and look at Gene Wilder’s writing and would say, “Hey this is crazy. Are you sure you want this in here? This is really ballsy.” Gene Wilder was like, “Absolutely. This is the key to the whole movie.” Apparently he would get red in the face and got all serious. Mel Brooks said, “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you cared. Now it’s definitely in the movie.” If you don’t give someone an opportunity to stand up for their work then you don’t know that they really care or like their decision. I think that I’m making it out to sound like we’re yelling at each other all the time, but we’re really just having conversations about it all, and really deliberately making choices every time we sit down.

Your lyrics are really candid and seem to be in the moment of what you’re feeling. What is your writing process like?

So what I normally do, I write all of the lyrics by myself. That’s what happens most of the time. For some of the lyrics on the album, we would record something and have a vocal melody. We kind of wrote and recorded at the same time when we were doing the demo process. I would tell them to record a part and I’d come back in 15 minutes with some lyrics if I felt like it was the time. So that’s one half of my writing and the other half is the painstaking, meticulous moving around of words and commas. More recently when I write a song, I’ll sit down and write 20 verses and scrap 15 of them. I prefer my lyrics to be an invitation, opposed to a proclamation. When writing, my favorite lyrics are all from people who wrote something that was to be interpreted, but not in a way where people had to figure them out. They were writing so that people could develop a relationship with those words on their own. That’s how I’ve developed relationships with all of my favorite musicians; it was by having my own time with their lyrics. I’d like to think of it as an act of generosity. I like to string together a lot of things that I don’t understand yet and sort of let them have their own life in a song. It’s very rare that people are given an opportunity with language that they have permission to do something with it.

Yeah, I agree. No one likes to listen to a song and feel like they’re being fed something. Do you have a particular lyricist that is one of your favorites or has inspired you to write the way you do?

Yeah, it’s a little scary because you’re afraid to admit your formula, but I love the the lyrics of Jeff Tweedy quite a bit. Jeff Tweedy, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell and Elvis Costello. In particular, I feel that Joni Mitchell has some of the best lyrics and poetry out there. Patti Smith also. I think that these are people who really saw their songs and their lyrics as literature as well. You can sit down and read a Joni Mitchell song and have the same experience with it, it’s just that she also knows how to communicate that through song. Do you have a favorite lyricist?

Hm. I really like satirical lyrics at the moment, so probably Father John Misty.

You know, I worked in the shoe store that he worked at. We never worked there at the same time, but I saw him on the street the other day, while in the care with my friend, and was in a heckling mood. I felt really bad about it as I drove away, but I rolled down the window and yelled, “Hey, when you comin’ back to the Woolly Mammoth?” He looked back. He looked confused, but he also has an interminable sense of cool, so he seemed alright with it.

Up until about a year ago, I didn’t even really know that he was in the Fleet Foxes.

Oh yeah. That’s the real deal right there. I actually just listened to their second album Helplessness Blues the other day and it’s just a masterpiece. Robin Pecknold’s music used to really inspire my songwriting and I learned very quickly it’s just something I love to listen to and not something I want to try and write. It takes a really particular person to write that type of music.

So what do you want your listeners to take away from your album?

It might sound dumb, but I think that my favorite thing that could happen is that someone else would come up to me and tell me something completely different from what I meant. I think that would be the most exciting to me because then I would have succeeded in giving them an opportunity to develop a relationship with it. I’m at the point where I want to have an amicable divorce with this set of songs. I think that’s where I’m at now. I want the songs to have their own life in other people’s ears. If I had something to say to people, then I’d be doing what you’re doing, I’d be a writer. I respect the hell out of people who can do that. I’ve never been able to be that direct about anything. I think that that’s a talent for the few. Amadeus doesn’t seem to be too instructive and I find that refreshing. It’s just here’s some more great stuff that you can figure out yourself, which I love.

(http://amadeusmag.com/blog/seattle-honcho-poncho/)

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