#i think about you often. i wonder where my oldest mutual went after they stopped posting years ago

[d0d0-b0i]

it’s weird how much lighter my life feels now. not that i don’t have any issues (because there are many in my life, as i am sure there are in yours), but they’re just so much more manageable than they were a year ago.

​what’s more; i love myself now. i may not be perfect. but i am trying my best, and i can tell that i am! i see myself in the mirror, and sometimes i just examine myself, and my features, and i smile. i feel so much more authentic when talking to people, not worrying about how they view me, because i don’t have to anymore. i wish i could’ve told 15-year old me just how good it’s gotten so far, i know that he would’ve loved hearing about the shitty sideburns we’re growing out right now :’)

[missspringthyme]

January 9th, 2024

I ended up going up to see the friend I was going to see last week, this week. After a day of procrastinating leaving by playing the Sims, I finally made the 2ish hour drive to the town that I continue to be shocked he has willingly chosen to live in.

This friend is one of my oldest. We met for the first time when we were 12, although we only really became as close as we are now after we graduated high school. This is due to a few things, one of which was we were simultaneously in shitty relationships where our boyfriends didn't want us talking to each other because we got along too well.

Anyway, he's really good at making you feel comfortable, and seen, and taken care of; and now he has a house, a fiance, and a dog that reflects that. I love visiting him.

On the drive up I ate almost an entire bag of nori maki, so when he asked me if I was hungry I lied and said yes. He's the type of person to hear that and then say we can go get dinner later even though he's starving.

My friend worked in restaurants for many years, and his fiance still currently does, so they are both very good at picking out places to eat and probably know at least one of the staff. We went to "one of the only decent places to go to" which was a bar that served sandwiches. I got the smallest size of the vegetarian option that had no peanut butter, and when the bartender asked me if I wanted anything to drink my mind went blank.

Besides sips here and there, I stopped drinking about 1 or 2 years ago. The reasons behind this include (1) Unless heavily disguised, I hate the taste and tbh the heavily disguised drinks taste better without it (2) I developed an intolerance where I start vomiting heavily after I've had more than 2 drinks (3) Despite rarely drinking, when I did drink I did so heavily. The moment I realized that I could have just as much fun on a night without risking blacking out again, I never turned back.

Despite this, I'm a firm believer in a fun little drink to accompany a meal, so I've been trying more mocktails. I turned to my friend, who has worked as a bartender and is fantastic at mixing drinks and asked him for ideas for a mocktail I could try. I was expecting something unexpected or cool that I had never heard of, and this motherfucker said "a Shirley Temple". They're incredible though, so I got one. He drank a beer.

We talked about how busy and draining our lives are right now, and how crazy it is that he's living such a stable, adult life. He's an archaeologist, which is insane, but he's working really hard to be seen as invaluable when the layoffs he sees looming on the horizon finally happen. I'm not sure how his wedding is going to look, but I'm excited to be important enough to someone to be in their wedding party. He texted me the day he got engaged to ask if there was any time I wouldn't be able to come to their wedding so they could plan around it when they set the date.I know my friend is a little worried because his fiance has more people to invite, but I know it'll all be wonderful in the end.

Their dog is very, very nervous and doesn't do well with moves, but she usually really loves me. It took some work, but eventually, she came and sat with me again while my friend and I talked. I need to come to see them more often so I can reestablish myself as a favorite again.

His fiance came home later that night, and joined in our conversation. I really like him, and I hope eventually we can become friends outside of our mutual connection. First I need to get better at calling my friend though.

I was offered edibles and decided to take some, stupidly thinking they were the same dosage as last time I had taken edibles at their house. Previously, 2 gummies had meant feeling relaxed but clear-headed, this time it meant that I felt that I was trapped inside a heavy skin suit and I didn't know where my lungs were. I'm becoming more and more fond of not chemically altering my mood.

When I was drunk, I had a horrible habit of doing everything in my power to not let anyone know. I would do the most obviously drunk-person things and then deny if anyone asked me. I found out I have the same instinct when high, but I went to bed before it became too much of a problem.

[weasleylangs]

secrets i have held in my heart - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Everyone in the twins’ lives mix them up once in a while, except for Y/N. Fred is dying to know how.  Warnings: Some angst with a happy ending, yes I wrote oblivious Fred again with miscommunication issues, what about it, some swearing, brief mention of the war but obviously this is a FredLives!AU :D, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive it’s like one line, - everyone is 18+ by the way!  Word Count: 4k

A/N: For the anon who requested super secret mutual pining with some angst where the reader is the only person who can tell the twins apart! Thank you so much for requesting. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 (frederickweasleys) as per the anon’s request! 

Also, I didn’t want to write about a 17 and 15 year old pining after each other, so I made everyone older and it’s postwar, however I was like 2000 words into the fic when I remembered George got his mf ear blasted off in DH so…. U do not see that it’s not canon in this fic thank you

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

The sun is blaring down on The Burrow and everyone is starting to wonder the likelihood of getting heatstroke. They’re in the south-west of England and the weather doesn’t usually get above the early 20s in the middle of August, however, mother nature has decided to wreak havoc and today is almost 30°. 

Y/N is looking at the pages in her book but she’s not processing anything on the pages. She’s so appreciative of the relaxing life she and all her loved ones finally have. The war ended last year, and while Y/N isn’t family, Molly and Arthur are always insistent she’s welcomed at The Burrow for their Sunday roast dinners. 

So she sits under a tree, the muggle fantasy novel in hand as Molly is busy prepping dinner and her friends all play quidditch. Hermione’s been refereeing them despite having no actual knowledge of the rules, and right now, she’s waving Harry’s copy of ‘Quidditch Through The Ages’ at one of the twins trying to prove a point, fully aware she’s going to get nowhere with him. He’s laughing at her and he raises the hand holding the beater’s bat as he threatens to (softly) hit her with it when he looks over her shoulder and spots his favourite girl perched under the tree with his mum’s homemade lemonade. 

Before Y/N knows it, the bat’s been thrown in her direction, barely missing her and hitting the tree behind her, and when she looks up, she immediately recognises the twin as Fred. Fred and Y/N are almost two sides of the same coin and their friendship has always been considered unlikely. Fred loves mischief and pranks and he’s extremely exuberant where Y/N is a ‘stickler for the rules’ (Fred’s words, not hers) and she’d much rather spend her day reading than playing quidditch. But their friendship blossomed and eventually for Y/N her feelings evolved into more. 

But Y/N is one of Ron’s best friends, and having a crush on her best friend’s older brother is weird, even if they are 19 and 21. 

“Hi Freddie,” she says, dog-earing the page and closing her novel, accepting now that Fred’s in her presence, the book isn't getting read again until tonight, “no more quidditch?” 

The ginger gives her a shit-eating grin and completely ignores her question, “Darling, I’m George.” 

Y/N squints at him for a brief moment, second-guessing herself but the longer she looks at him the more she’s sure it’s Fred, not George in front of her. “No, you’re Fred. I’ve known you for how long? Just accept I can tell you apart.” 

Fred mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath as he sits down. He’s always loved that Y/N is the only person who can tell them apart, his own family struggling sometimes and especially when they’re apart. But no matter what, she somehow gets it right every single time and he’s dying to know how.

“You’re never going to tell me how you do it, are you?” He questions and she replies how she always does when he asks, blaming it on intuition and that she doesn’t know how she does it. As always, he doesn’t believe her. Y/N secretly does have a way of easily telling the twins apart, not rooted in intuition in the slightest but she doesn’t want to tell him. 

The truth is, the way her heart races when Fred looks or speaks to her is her way of telling them apart. Fred always has a mischievous glint in his brown eyes and the way he looks at Y/N makes her feel like she’s the only girl in the world. George is sweet, loving and exceptionally kind- he was there as a source of comfort and calmness for Y/N when the trio disappeared during their 7th year to hunt Horcruxes, when she and her family went into hiding. She loves George like she would love a brother, like how she loves Ron and Harry, but the love Y/N has for Fred is different and the catalyst for her ability to tell them apart.

“I’m going to get you one day. One day George and I will swap and you’ll get it wrong and as a reward for finally tricking the oh so wonderful Miss Y/N Y/L/N, you’ll tell me how you tell us apart.” 

-

It’s not even an hour later when Fred and George come down wearing each other’s clothing. Y/N’s well aware Fred prefers to wear warm and bright colours while George likes to wear the dark colours in their coordinated clothing, so seeing Fred walk down the stairs in George’s purple shirt and vice versa is funny, despite the fact they’re identical twins, Y/N thinks they look ridiculous and unfamiliar.

“George put the purple back on. You look weird in orange,” she says, as she goes back to help Molly with the vegetables for dinner and soon after she speaks, she hears someone angrily kick the table. She looks up from her potatoes she’s been peeling to see an entertained George and Fred who looks like he’s going to throw a child-size tantrum. 

“How!” He exclaims again, pulling the shirt up over his head, shoving it in George’s hands and stomping back upstairs to change. Y/N is about to follow him, genuine concern for Fred in tow. She knows he’s most likely just being dramatic to cause a ruckus but there’s a small part of her that considers he might be serious. 

“He’s fine, Y/N,” George states, changing his shirts and throwing Fred’s orange one over the back of the chair as he sits down, “I think he’s trying to rile you up into telling him how you do it.” 

She laughs at this, knowing that while she might not have told him, the look in George’s eye hints that he’s picked up on her feelings for his twin brother. But before she can say anything, Ron comes bounding down the stairs and right into the kitchen, Harry in tow. They’re both looking for food and when Ron’s hand makes his way towards the ham, Y/N smacks him.

“Don’t spoil your dinner,” she scolds which causes Harry to laugh. 

“But, mum,” Ron mockingly replies, “All the quidditch got me hungry!” He might be 19 but he’s sulking like a 10-year-old boy and Y/N thinks temper tantrums might run in the Weasley family. 

When Molly isn’t looking, however, Y/N sneaks him a piece of ham and Ron jumps up quickly, smacking a kiss to her cheek, “You’re the best!” he whispers as he quickly shoves the piece of ham in his mouth to not be caught by his mother. 

Soon enough, everyone’s crammed into the small kitchen and Molly waves them all out except Y/N, who she insists stays. She thinks it’s because she was already helping with the vegetables but when she’s about to ask for her next task, Molly has a rare mischievous glint in her eye.

“How do you tell my sons apart?” She enquires and Y/N groans. She hasn’t been asked how she tells the twins apart this often since she was at Hogwarts and before she can speak, Molly continues, “it’s just no one can besides us, and even then, sometimes I catch myself calling George, Fred sometimes.” 

Y/N sighs. She loves Molly like her own mother, but she loves to meddle like every mother. 

“I just know, I wish I had some excuse like a mother’s instinct, but I just know,” Y/N pauses and thinks how to word her next statement without spilling too much for potential eavesdroppers and Extendable Ears to hear, “They have different energies. I think I pick up on it easily.” 

Y/N hopes that’s enough for Molly to drop the conversation at hand and while Molly hums in agreement, she reads between the lines. She’s known for a while that Y/N carries a flame for the oldest twin, after all the way Y/N looks at Fred is the same way she looks at Arthur, so she’s hoping for the day they both stop dancing around their feelings. 

She already loves Y/N like a daughter, and she’d like it to be official one day. 

-

After dinner, the girls are all holed up in Ginny’s room. She loves staying at The Burrow. Y/N never grew up with sisters and her friendship with Hermione and Ginny are the closest she gets to them. They usually gossip, who’s dating who, who’s already getting married, sometimes it gets juicy and someone’s pregnant. 

When Ginny and Harry, and Hermione and Ron finally got together, they gushed for hours about how it finally happened and how excited they all were.

Tonight, unfortunately, the topic at hand is Y/N and Fred.

“When are you going to tell him?” Ginny enquires as she smooths out her face mask. Hermione’s braiding Y/N’s hair and when she doesn’t reply, Hermione grasps some hair and gives a hard tug. Y/N yelps and while Hermione mutters an apology, she doesn’t miss the wink she gives Ginny in the mirror.

“Tell Fred what exactly?” 

“About your feelings for him,” Ginny replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that everyone should have known. Y/N starts to stutter, trying to find words to deny her feelings but these are her two best girl friends, her sisters and she can’t lie to them no matter how much she wants to. 

“Okay fine, they exist but he’s never knowing,” she states, a matter of factly as if it’s something to be proud of, “and he’s never finding out. I’m looking at you, Ginevra.” Ginny inherited her love to meddle from her mother, and if Y/N is positive about anything it’s that Ginny is going to meddle to get her best friend and brother together. 

“I’m pretty sure he likes you back,” Hermione says. She prides herself on being observant but even she didn’t notice Ron’s feelings for her until he quite literally put his lips on hers. 

“I’m just his little siblings’ best friend, Hermione, I doubt it,” she says as she grabs the tiny elastics to secure her hair. “Besides, I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school.”

“You’re choosing now of all days to get the wrong twin? George is dating Angelina. Fred hasn’t even been seen with a girl since he slept with one of Fleur’s cousins at the wedding.” Ginny says and something about this makes Y/N blush, almost happy that Fred’s been single for as long as she has, but the jealousy is in the back of her mind.

“... Shut up,” Y/N laughs as she grabs the nearest pillow and smacks Ginny over the head with it. This causes chaos in Ginny’s tiny bedroom and soon enough all three girls are defending themselves with pillows and jumping around the bedroom.

What none of the girls knew, however, was Fred standing outside of the bedroom, eavesdropping. He’s always been curious about what the girls talk about when the boys aren’t around and Fred reckons if he doesn’t have to hear about his little siblings’ sex life, it doesn’t hurt anybody. 

Except it does, and he hurts himself. He arrived just in time for Ginny to question why Y/N doesn’t admit her feelings to someone. At first, Fred was hopeful, especially when the conversation steers in the direction of her liking one of the twins. After all, Bill’s married, Percy’s… Well, he’s Percy and Charlie isn’t in England enough for him to believe Y/N was able to develop feelings for him. 

So that leaves himself and George from context clues. He’s always had a crush on her ever since they were in school, but he was always worried about coming off as creepy, pining after someone two years below him. 

But then Y/N says ‘I think he has a thing with one of the girls from his year at school’ and he walks off before he even hears the rest of the conversation, hearing the apparent confirmation of Y/N’s feelings for George. 

-

The summer is still sweltering hot when she decides to visit Diagon Alley three days later. She’s shopping for her nephew when she ends up in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Fred was unusually quiet when she said goodbye to him on Monday morning before she floo’d away to her job at the Ministry and she’s hoping to catch him at the shop during quiet hour. 

When she walks in, she’s met with a bell ringing and the voice that calls out ‘Hi, how are you today!’ doesn’t make her heart race so she immediately knows she’s caught the wrong twin at the counter.

“Hey, Georgie!” She makes her way over to the counter. It’s a Wednesday morning, so the shop has a lull in customers and he’s doing what Y/N assumes is a stock take of whizbangs. He gives her a nice smile as she potters her way over to him. She stops in front of the love potions, smelling the familiar scent of cinnamon, fireworks and something that can only be described as happiness in the small bottles. She’s so entranced for a moment that she doesn’t even notice George make his way up next to her.

“You don’t need one of these, by the way,” He whispers as he winks, looking behind him and seeing Fred standing on top of the spiral staircase not looking the happiest. 

“You’re the second person to tell me that this week,” she mutters, quickly putting the love potion vial down, “I don’t know what any of you mean.”

George chuckles at her obliviousness. It’s been obvious since they were teenagers about the feelings both Fred and Y/N harbour for each other but he can’t help but admit it’s just the tiniest bit funny. Like it’s a joke they’re all in on except the oblivious couple themselves.

“It’s because we’re more observant than you, darling,” George says, absent-mindedly fixing the display so it looks presentable. Y/N’s about to question him when someone clears their throat behind them- an elderly gentleman shopping for some grandkids when George excuses himself with the promise ‘this isn’t over’. 

Fred watched the interaction from the staircase and while he didn’t hear anything, he feels like he’s gotten punched in the stomach. He knows he’s never directly told George about his feelings for Y/N, and George is dating Angelina anyway and he’d never betray her, but he can’t ignore the slight feeling of upset he feels when he sees them interact.

-

“I think Y/N likes you,” Fred says nonchalantly and George almost chokes on his tea. It takes him a moment to fix his breathing before he looks at Fred like he’s got three heads.

“No, she doesn’t?” George questions, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world and that upsets Fred slightly. He’s not upset at George, he never has and he never will be upset with George, but it seems like his comment was brushed off without any deeper consideration.

“No, I think she does,” Fred says, twiddling his quill between his fingers as he stares at the tax invoice in front of him. Wednesday night is budget night and Fred knows he’s not going to get any work done if his mind is stuck on Y/N and her feelings for George.

“No, mate, she doesn’t,” George huffs and Fred notices the eye roll George gives him. George only ever gives him eye rolls when he’s being oblivious. Like when Fred spent 20 minutes looking for his wand last week only to find it in his pocket.

Fred’s convinced George is just being oblivious, blinded by his new relationship with Angelina that he hasn’t noticed Y/N’s feelings for him. “Do you wonder how she can tell us apart?” 

George huffs in annoyance as a reply and Fred pouts as he attempts to go back to his taxes. He’s reread the same line three times when George finally speaks.

“I think it’s got something to do with her feelings for us. She feels differently about one twin.” George is intentionally being coy, hoping to Godric that Fred caught the pointed stare and the emphasis but Fred wasn’t looking and the longer he dwells on what George has said the more he’s convinced he doesn’t have a chance with Y/N at all.

- 

It’s the weekly Sunday roast again and Fred isn’t expecting to floo into The Burrow and be met almost face to face with Y/N. He’s planned on ignoring her today, purposely volunteering to do any work needed at the shop while George floo’s to The Burrow early in the afternoon. 

It teeters on 5 pm when Fred finally arrives and he’s quickly engulfed in a hug by his mother with his father behind him telling him to stop working on Sundays as ‘Sundays are for family’. With a kiss to his mum’s forehead and a promise to his dad that he’ll force George into doing the Sunday work next week, who throws a piece of stale bread at Fred’s head while exclaiming ‘you offered!’ he quickly makes his way away from Y/N.

Molly’s quick to serve up dinner now Fred’s here, complaining he’s starving already. He quickly steals the seat next to Ron and pulls George down next to him- not wanting to allow Y/N to sit either side of him. Usually, she sits between Ron and Fred and when she turns the corner and the only available seat is the furthest from Fred, her heat sinks a little.

Dinner is pleasant, it always is at The Burrow. Hermione and Y/N talk about the ministry while Ginny tells stories of her Holyhead Harpies tryouts she had during the week. Y/N might let slip she works with the coach’s sister-in-law and overheard some high praise for a certain Miss. Weasley and Ginny’s eyes fill with tears when she hears this. 

There’s a quick lull in conversation as Molly waves her wand and the now empty plates make their way into the kitchen, children following behind them ready to help wash up but Fred makes his way outside. He likes to watch the sunset, the sun slowly dipping behind the hills where he learnt how to play quidditch as a kid as the sun becomes shades of orange. 

He’s sitting under the tree when Y/N follows him out. She’s shouting his name trying to find him. He slipped out without anyone noticing and that’s unusual for Fred so something is wrong. When she spots him, she starts jogging over and she can’t tell if he’s ignoring her or can’t hear her calling his name, so she tries something.

“George?” 

Fred turns, a smirk subconsciously forming on his lips and Y/N finally feels seen by him in a week. “It took me calling you your brother’s name to get your attention?” She asks, kicking sticks out of the way before she takes a seat next to him. 

“No, love. Just shocked you finally got us mixed up,” he replies, shoving her a little with his elbow. He knows she only did it to get his attention, but he’s Fred Weasley and he’s going to use this to his advantage. “I believe I told you when you get us mixed up, you’re legally required to tell me how you do it. I’m all ears.” He wiggles his eyebrows but deep down, he’s scared George’s assumption is right.

She rolls her eyes, but the love she has for this boy in her heart can’t be kept a secret anymore. This week she’s felt like he’s been ignoring her and while she and Fred are no means ‘best friends’, not like she is with the others, she’s felt a little piece of her universe missing knowing he’s been upset.

“You and George, I… I feel different about you to how I feel about George,” she starts and Fred’s breath hitches. He doesn’t know if he’s going to storm off or throw up so he just sits and stares at a rock. “George makes me feel comfortable. He’s always willing to talk to me about anything, feeds into the fact I can speak for hours on end about any topic if you let me,” she laughs and her nervousness is in her throat. She notices Fred isn’t looking at her and it’s making her want to run away.

“But you, you feel like home, Freddie. The way my heart races when I hear you speak or when you look at me. It’s the biggest indicator of how I tell you guys apart. George and you may be identical but the way you both make me feel is so different.” She’s whispering now and she’s realised Fred is looking at her so intently that the Earth might open up and swallow her whole. 

“Like, home?” 

She smiles softly and takes his big hand that’s been messing with rocks into her small ones. “Like I can tell you anything and you’ll never judge me. I could be having the worst day of my life and one joke from you can make me smile even if I’ve been crying for hours.” Her thumb starts to rub along the top of his hand and the way he shivers doesn’t miss her. 

“I’m trying to say, in a round-about kind of way, that I’m in love with you, Freddie,” her voice is shaky but there’s no backing out now. “I’m in love with you and this past week where it’s felt like you’re mad at me has me so confused because I don’t know what I did.” 

Fred feels incredibly guilty now, he was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think how his actions would affect Y/N. “I thought you liked George,” he whispers, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I thought you liked George and not me and I didn’t want to be near you knowing that.” 

She giggles and drops his hands to run her fingers through his hair. It’s still short but she thinks she can convince him to grow it out again. “Me? George? Not even for a second.” 

“Why not?” The joking in Fred’s voice is there but so is the genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t know. It’s just always been you, ever since I was 11 and you were bullying Ron into performing a spell to turn Scabbers yellow.” She laughs at the memory, watching scrawny Fred bully his small brother on the train platform. 

Fred looks down at her, her hands now playing at the hair at the back of his neck and he feels goosebumps rise across his skin. He wants nothing more to lean down and press a kiss to her lips and when he realises he never actually admitted his feelings to Y/N back, he starts to lean down, hoping to convey everything he feels for her through a kiss.

She’s quick to catch on and she leans up so quickly they almost bump noses. It’s messy, like most first kisses are, especially in an awkward sitting down position but the love they have for each other is there and obvious. They pull away when they’re barely kissing anymore, just smiling and laughing into each other’s mouths. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Fred asks. It’s a dumb question, they both know it but when Y/N pretends to think he stands up and hauls her over his shoulders and starts swinging her around. The giggles that erupt from her make Fred’s heart swell and he’s about to put her down just to get down on one knee himself and propose right then and there.

“Yes, Freddie, if you want me to be your girlfriend then I’m yours.” Y/N replies and Fred smiles, he loves that. Not Y/N being his, he could never believe she’s an object, but she loves him and he loves her and now he understands why George was rolling his eyes at him.

“As long as you don’t get George and I mixed up in bed, I’m all yours.” He says it jokingly, but the smack he receives from Y/N is no joke and when he starts swinging her around again, he’ll forever make dumb jokes like this if he gets to hear her laugh like that for the rest of his days.

[passionandpurposeblog-blog]

Sexuality: No More to say and so over it

A few months after my long term girlfriend and I split up, I ended up in bed with Phillip, A nice guy that I’d known for some time. During the post-sex talk, he turns and asks “So does that mean you’re straight now?” 

“LMFAO” 

‘You’ve got a nice cock and I had a great orgasm, …..but you haven’t awoken anything in me that wasn’t already there. You cannot ‘make’ me straight and no one forced me to fuck you’ 

Infact, No one else would sexually awaken anything in me. Not the next guy after Phil, or the guy after that guy, or the girl after the guy after Phil. The list goes on and the list started waaaay back into my early teens. I've always been open, I was experimenting with drugs and people at a young age, I had a threesome with a guy and a girl when I was just 18. When I look back, I must admit that was very young for such an experience, but I just went with the flow. I don’t regret it, but I wish I had done it at a later age to really make the most of it and have the emotional maturity that you need to go with it. 

I’ve been listening to an interview with Kate Pierson (B52’s) and she has recently married her long term partner, a woman that she has dated for 15 years. She said that she had always dated men, and was even married before and that this lady came along and bang she was in love, just like that. Kate Pierson is now 71, So this is her 55-year-old self experiencing a major transition and shift in her life. Whilst trawling through the B52s back catalog online I read so many comments from random fans. ‘She's a lesbian’ ‘I never knew’ ‘But she was married to so and so’ and this is exactly the snooze fest that I am writing about today. Yawn...... If she spent 40 years with different men and now met a woman, perhaps shes just er just bisexual? And more importantly, shouldn’t we be interested in the music and her voice? As much as I love her, when all is said and done I don’t really want to think about the bedroom antics of a 71-year-old yknow.  

What is it with the labels?  

It’s like no one is comfortable until they know exactly which box you belong in, and if you stray from that box then their tiny minds scramble and system overload occurs. ‘ANNOUNCE YOURSELF AT ONCE’ ‘What are you?’ and ‘Don’t you dare have options or change, it doesn’t fit with the label I’ve prescribed you’.  

Before we label Kate a lesbian, how about we mention that she’s a brilliant talented vocalist with over 40 years in the band? Or is that how we are defining her now ‘The lesbian’?. *Insert laughing emoji here* 

“Bisexuals always get dumped on,” says Cynthia Nixon from Sex in the City...The Media has too labeled her a lesbian when much like Kate Pierson, she was in fact with men and entered into this new world later on in her life. It’s like now we must erase her whole previous life and deny that any man has ever come close to her! How dare she now turnaround and say she's’ attracted to men! How fucking dare she, she’s lesbian property now and she has no voice! She never said she was anything, You did!   

I thought, ‘I get it! I get You, I just get it’. She’s attracted to people, they may be male or they may be female yet shes being kettled to a place she never asked to be. It really is that simple. Should her current relationship end, nothing stops her going back to men, dating another woman or even staying single. Your past partners do not mean that your future self is set in stone. It’s not difficult to understand really is it?  

But! And there is a But!  

Say Cinthia and her gf/wife did break up and she dated a man. She won’t find it that easy, because of what I call, the whole ‘lesbian fragility’ - Gay women who pride themselves on being with women and only women and god fucking forbid should you show any interest in a guy. Well, You are now damaged goods my girl. A sell-out, banished!....exiled from the pride....like the Lioness in last weeks BBC Planet Earth. How can you and the gay community ever really watch the L Word again together or listen to Ani Difranco in the same way? ‘It’s just not the same’ they’ll whine.  

I’m being serious. There is a reverse discrimination within the gay community! I’ve seen it first hand. I’ve seen a few women in same sex relationships end, then go for a guy and their ‘friends’ no longer feel the same way about them, there’s no time to hang out anymore and she is “too busy with her straight friends”.  

Awwwww did someone emasculate you? 

I’ve never really enjoyed the company of gay women if I'm honest. I always found their friendships forged on sharing of sexual preference rather than common interest, views or hobbies. I usually think their haircuts are shit and they present me with this feeling where they are unsure if they want to fuck me or fight me. Very awkward, not to mention its a very childish and incestuous scene.  

I have seen this so many times with women, either in a same sex or opposite and then switch later on down the line which is what I mean about experience and just understanding those around you. I think a lot of women are on the bi spectrum. Not all, no, but a lot are, and sexuality is fluid.  About three months ago my cock hungry straight friend told me she’d met some woman online and is now having the best sex of her life! Great, wonderful, Whoppie.  So how do I label her? …....‘Err Mary’......... I label her Mary. I can’t really call her cock hungry right now, so I’ll just label her ‘Hungry Mary’. 

One of my oldest friends is gay – full blown lesbian, never been with a guy but totally cool with every bi girl that has. She and I sit on a different part of the spectrum, but she gets it and like myself she gives those around her that mutual respect and safe space to be who they are. If she turned around tomorrow and said she’s dating a guy, I wouldn’t be shocked, not because she has ever indicated that she likes guys, but simply because people change.  

I know three guys that have also experimented with other guys, would identify as straight and two of the three have long term girlfriends and kids. I just think at the time they took the ‘any holes a goal’ attitude and like my younger self, just went with the flow. 

As we age and grow the fuck up, this should be more accepted and we should just allow people to do who and what they want without the questions, especially the silly questions. It’s really mind numbingly boring, not to mention so nosey!? Jeez, get your own life in order. Despite my ramblings, I'm actually a pretty private person.  I just don’t discuss my private life or anyone I’m dating, I have so many transient non-committal interactions with people that I just don’t feel I need to. 

 I’ve been chatting to some people for ages, and I still wouldn’t discuss parts of my life with them. I keep my circle so small, and If we don’t click like that, we don’t click like that. It’s cool, because there is far more to me and far more to you than who we have in our beds right? I cant imagine meeting someone and asking them, “so what are ya?” CRINGE. I’d die. I’ve got some friends that I’ve spoken to for years, we’ve had really great conversations and it’s never occurred to me to stop and ask ‘do you have a partner? Are you gay?’  

The small circle of friends that I have know me, they get me and that’s my safe space.  

I do find some of the questions and statements really annoying, and if I’m honest just plain weird. I have an irritating male friend in that likes to continually remind me that I’m attracted to women, and of course, there is no way that I can be attracted to men, because I’m not attracted to him..... *eye roll* Dick! It’s like me saying to someone, ‘but you said you like mixed raced girls, so why don’t you like me’ it’s really really weird and it makes me feel uncomfortable. Its uncomfortable because he cannot address or acknowledge his own fascination with bisexuality and cannot stop mentioning it every time he sees me? He makes out he is cool and open-minded, yet I seem to be the topic of convo or butt of his jokes. Address your homophobia or your weird unrequited sexualisation of me whatever the issue is. Seek help mate, Your issue not mine. 

I cannot recall being asked what two women do in bed, but I have heard of it being asked to other people. It’s hilarious. I honestly believe that if you are over 25 and cannot work that out then you have a really dull imagination and I’d bet you are not very experienced. Not necessarily in bedding two women at once, but just in experiencing people; hearing their stories, watching porn, understanding their anatomy and physiology. OR You are being a menace and condescending..... I’ve never seen two men at it live, but I’m pretty sure I know how it goes down ;-)  

Sometime ago I spent a fair amount of time at a bdsm sex dungeon helping out an old friend. Id mostly film her sessions, and now and then Id help out by giving some guys the odd little kick in the nuts etc. Boy, I could write a whole new blog on that experience LOL! I saw some things!  

Meeting all the different types of people that came in the dungeon really opened my eyes to the world of sex and sexuality and just what turns people on. You really cannot judge what people are into, and you’d never know. It’s funny, the ‘geezers’ that make the gay jokes about bumming are often the same ones that ask the women to wear strap ons ;-). People have their quirks and their kinks, they just hide it well BELIEVE me. 

I’ve seen a lot and I’m very open and not much phases me, but because I’m not phased, or excited by the gossip or the fascination of it all I'm over it. …....over the labels, the questions, the presumptions, opinions and the basic inability to let people do what they want in peace. So because of this I decided a long time ago that I’m actually over my sexuality and stopped speaking about it  back in my twenties. 

Yawn.  

No one owns me and no one dictates.

I’m not anything, I’m just me in that particular point of time. No path is set and I answer to no one except who’s in my bed. 

Keep your own truth

[letterboxd]

McCarthy.

“Give me a real character like Lee who’s complicated and irritating and smart.” Melissa McCarthy talks about her Oscar-nominated performance in the acclaimed true story Can You Ever Forgive Me?

In the media discussion building up to this year’s Academy Awards, the talking points have principally concerned decisions regarding the ceremony itself, leaving many of the nominated films somewhat overlooked in the conversation.

One triple-nominee very much worthy of discussion is Marielle Heller’s Can You Ever Forgive Me?, which received nominations for Best Adapted Screenplay (Nicole Holofcener & Jeff Whitty), Best Supporting Actor (the great Richard E. Grant) and Best Actress for Melissa McCarthy’s caustic and hilarious performance as real-life literary forger Lee Israel.

Based upon Israel’s memoir of the same title, Can You Ever Forgive Me? chronicles how the writer (of biographies of Estée Lauder and Tallulah Bankhead, among others) found herself out of favor and out of work in the ’90s New York literary world.

After discovering that letters by famous writers could be highly valuable to certain collectors, Israel took to forging correspondence by people like Dorothy Parker and Noël Coward, and selling the results via rare book stores.

In addition to profiting from the deception, the acerbic Israel also took considerable pride in her ability to capture her subjects’ trademark wit.

There aren’t many movies made about people like Lee Israel, and that’s what makes Can You Ever Forgive Me? so fascinating. The character fails all the obvious (and idiotic) “likability” standards that afflict many mainstream films: she’s an alcoholic misanthrope who lashes out at everyone around her. Yet she’s impossible to look away from, and we remain wholly invested in her throughout every bad decision.

Richard E. Grant co-stars in the film as Jack Hock, an acquaintance who becomes Lee’s friend, and eventually her collaborator, via their mutual affection for booze. More than one person has accurately observed that if you dim your eyes, Hock could easily be Withnail, thirty years later. His Oscar campaign has been one of the most gleeful joys of awards season, and a pleasing reward for an actor who was “told right from the get-go that I looked like a tombstone”.

Mostly taking place in a Manhattan of wood-lined taverns and fusty bookstores, and quietly celebrating some of the city’s longest lasting icons including Julius, the city’s oldest gay bar, Can You Ever Forgive Me? is a minor miracle of a film that represents a new level of achievement for McCarthy.

The Oscar nomination is not her first (she received a Best Supporting nod for Bridesmaids in 2012), but there’s a complexity to her performance here that makes it undeniably special.

Director Heller (The Diary of a Teenage Girl, and currently in production on the Tom Hanks biopic about Mr Rogers) joined McCarthy to discuss the film at a recent AFI event in Hollywood.

On what made Heller want to direct the film: Marielle Heller: I found Lee really refreshing. I feel like we have male [lead] characters who are assholes all the time and we find them to be the most interesting characters, and you never get to see women like that. And so there was something about her I just immediately went, ‘Yeah, we need more women like Lee’. Also, middle-aged women who kind of don’t fit into society’s norms. Childless, lesbian. She didn’t fit into the model of what we make movies about, and so I just thought there was something nice and radical to me about that. It shouldn’t be radical, but it felt really radical. There was something about the fact that her intellect and her work is so much more important than her appearance, that I loved. And that she’s genuinely the smartest person in every room, but no one gives her that credit.

Marielle Heller directs Melissa McCarthy on the set of ‘Can You Ever Forgive Me?’

On how McCarthy heard about the role: Melissa McCarthy: I had a very quick introduction to Lee. I heard about it first from my husband [Ben Falcone]. There was an earlier incarnation of the movie—movies fall apart all the time for a million different reasons—and my husband had a part in it, the part he ended up playing in this one [of a rare book dealer], and that’s how I read it. We read each other’s scripts and talked about it and after I read it I was like, ‘This is incredible, this is so good and why on earth don’t I know who Lee Israel is?’. I was disappointed with myself that I didn’t know about her.

On McCarthy’s response to the character as written: MM: I had a very strong reaction. I was at page twenty and I thought, ‘Oh I like her so much’. And then I had to stop and I went back through the first twenty pages, because I couldn’t figure out why. It was intangible. There’s no moment, there’s no speech. I started to fall in love with her, and that to me was the most exciting thing. I find her intriguing, challenging. I loved that she didn’t need someone else to validate who she was. Even when she is difficult, which is often. I respected her.

It also just made me think about being so talented at something and being told at 52, ‘You know, we don’t need you to do that anymore. You’re now obsolete.’ So as someone gets better and better and more experienced, the average thing is ‘Now you’re obsolete’. I just found that whole way of thinking so insane, that I thought, what would any of us do if we were pushed to that point? So the more she kind of conned and grifted, I found myself rooting for her.

On how she got into Lee’s headspace: MM: I read everything she wrote. I also listened to stories from people who actually knew Lee, and then there is a bit of conjuring. You just wanna do right by the people. The costume and wardrobe department were very important because I had no interest in looking like myself. I think it’s really freeing to get to walk around in other people’s shoes and I think that allows you to be braver and more vulnerable. It’s a very fantastic part of what I do, I think you get to be steadier or more empowered because it’s happening through someone else. It takes the pressure off of me.

I have a real fascination in what drives us all. What our quirks are. I don’t know any perfect woman, I don’t know how to play pleasant or blonde. Give me a real character like Lee who’s complicated and irritating and smart and all these things that when I look at someone, it makes you kinda fall in love with them. All my friends are nuts. They always need a qualifier like, ‘They’re actually great, just get to know them’. That’s why we love people. You don’t love people because they’re pleasant, you love them because they’ll talk too much or say the wrong thing, but they’ll show up at 3 o’clock when you don’t feel well and help you. It’s so rare that you get to play a woman like that. Those are the women that I know. They’re complicated and challenging.

On Jack and Lee’s friendship: MM: They were both so lonely. And it’s such a universal thing. I don’t know a human that hasn’t felt incredibly lonely and undervalued. We are all so lonely. I think everyone can feel that tether to those characters, and it’s why even though they shouldn’t have been friends, they needed each other.

On Melissa and Richard’s friendship: MH: Those two loved each other from the day they met in a way that was like, every director’s dream, because they showed up and immediately got along. Richard would show up on days he wasn’t filming and take Melissa to lunch. It was amazing because they were truly becoming friends on this movie and when we got to the scene where they were essentially breaking up, they had to hug each other afterwards because it was so painful.

On working alongside Richard E. Grant: MM: He’s so completely present as a person, and that certainly translates into his beautiful acting because he is 1,000% there. If you go this way, he goes with you. There’s just an ease to it. And we do sometimes these incredibly difficult scenes that were just heartbreaking, and then when we finished, we’d both become very silly and throwaway, which is really important sometimes when you’re shooting something that’s difficult. And then we’d go right back to it. I had such an ease working with him. I think we work in a very similar way. I think we fully commit, right or wrong, and trusted that Marielle is at the helm of a ship and she did it with complete authority and a complete lightness at the same time.

Richard E. Grant and Melissa McCarthy in ‘Can You Ever Forgive Me?’

On the benefits of having a female director: MM: Hands down it was fantastic. And I’ve been very fortunate to work a lot of wonderful male directors [who] also have a quote-unquote ‘feminine side’, my husband, Paul Feig, Ted Melfi, they all have a capacity to listen and be collaborative. I think with Mari, what always sticks in my head, there was never a moment where you didn’t feel completely guided. And the crew, you could see it, really felt like they were all part of this, we knew exactly what Mari’s vision is. And working in this kind of time frame, you need that cohesiveness, and you need someone—I think it’s more likely to happen with a female director—you need someone to do the right thing for the movie, instead of proving that they’re right. And there’s a big difference there. And when you get someone like Mari doing that, the world just falls into place.

On approaching a dramatic role versus a comedic role: MM: There’s absolutely no difference to me. If it’s comedy or drama, it doesn’t change for me at all, I think if it’s a straight comedy, I still try to find, or I’m least very interested in, like, what’s tragic about that person. Like, if they’re so overly pleasant and happy, why? What pain are they hiding? So I do the same thing, if someone’s really aggressive, what’s behind that? So I change nothing. Maybe you’re supposed to, but I don’t.

‘Can You Ever Forgive Me?’ is currently available on all the major streaming services. Reporting by West Coast Editor Dominic Corry.

[chloes-yellow-cup]

Third Time’s the Charm

Bechloe Week 2018. Day 7. Disney AU

Beca's got this rule and there's this Disney Princess...

Rated Teen+ because why not. 

So much fluff and Steca brotp for the win.

Words: 11,400

AO3 and FFN

My other works.

Thanks to the Beta for putting up with my word changes and random fits of insecurity.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally nothing.

I admit, I never actually had the Character Breakfast at Ariel’s Grotto, and from what I read when it was going on, she’s sort of up front and doesn’t wander like the rest – but, let’s go with it, shall we?

~B~

April, 2016

“Seriously? You guys are making me to go the character breakfast at Ariel’s Grotto?”

Emily bounced next to Cynthia Rose and grabbed her arm. “No, it’s awesome! The character actors come around and all the little kids believe they’re real and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Legacy loves the princesses and their dresses.” Beca found herself smiling at Emily’s enthusiasm and let herself be led inside where she flinched briefly at the noise.

“It’s okay, DJ.” Stacie stepped up beside her. “I’ll protect you from all the mean kids who may want to pick on you for being smaller than them.”

Beca tried to shrug off the arm Stacie slung over her shoulder and push her away but eventually gave it up as a lost cause. “Thanks, Legs. I’ll remember this.”

Stacie squeezed Beca against her side. “Atta girl.”

It was a Wednesday morning in April, so the place wasn’t as full as it could have been, which Beca’s ears appreciated. While they were ten minutes early for their reservation, they were still seated quickly.

“Wow, they updated things a bit. All this looks great!” Emily looked over the menu. “I don’t know what to get.”

Beca pursed her lips. “I’m torn between the Berry Belgian Waffle and the All-American, myself.”

“What the heck is Bircher Muesli?” Cynthia Rose looked up as she sat back in her chair across from Emily.

“Oats with a bunch of super yummy things mixed in with it.” Emily closed her eyes and hummed. “It’s so good. Trust me.”

Beca laughed. “I forgot this is your first trip with us, CR.”

Stacie, Emily and Beca were long time Disneyland fanatics since they grew up in or around Anaheim. They’d grown up together and were often confused for sisters, thanks to their similar looks. Though Beca and Stacie were both technically twenty two, Beca was a few months older and she liked to rub in ‘being the oldest’ when she could. Emily was the youngest at nineteen, and they treated her as a kid sister. They often jokingly referred to her as their ‘legacy’ and the nickname stuck. Emily was an inherently good person who never had a bad word to say about anyone and they would sometimes give her a bad time about always playing by the rules. It wasn’t until she got out of high school that she relaxed a bit and was far more inclined to curse or indulge in the sporadic – ‘But I’m not old enough, Stacie!’ – drink during a movie night.

They’d met Cynthia Rose through Beca’s job as a freelance DJ – which meant she took any booking she could get to try and make a name for herself – as Cynthia Rose was a club promoter. One night of too many shots, drunken karaoke and a mutual appreciation of the female form later and their friendship was sealed. They’d been trying to get Cynthia Rose to come with them for the past few months and this was the first time they’d all been able to arrange the day off together.

Their waiter came over and took their order, Beca and Emily going for the waffles, Stacie and Cynthia Rose both getting the all American and all of them got the hot chocolate with an additional coffee to try and perk them up a bit more. They fell into easy conversation as they discussed their plan of attack for the day to try and make sure Cynthia Rose saw everything worth seeing on her first trip.

When their food was brought out, a motion out of the corner of her eye turned Beca’s head toward where the Princesses were coming into the room. She secretly agreed with Emily, the reactions of the kids as they saw their favorites were adorable; their eyes lit up and they practically vibrated with excitement in their chairs. The ones who had never been there before were always covered in a layer of awe when faced with the embodiment of their movies brought to life; Beca always got a kick out of the hiss that went around the room as children whispered their names with reverence, turning to their parents to make sure they weren’t dreaming.

Beca grinned and turned back to the plate that was just set down before her. “Oh man, this looks better than I thought it would.” She’d just picked up her fork when an excited chorus of tiny voices shouted out together.

“Ariel!”

Beca looked up and saw a wavy mass of red hair enter the room and lean down to hug the toddler that had just careened into her legs. Beca smiled at the joy she could see on the young girl’s face as Princess Ariel whispered in her ear then stood up as the mom stepped forward, blocking Beca’s view. She imagined the mother was apologizing to Ariel and the handler/cast member accompanying her. The pretty blonde cast member smiled and shook her head and even from this distance Beca could see her say ‘That’s okay.’

Princess Ariel put her hand on the mother’s arm and patted it. Beca watched the family head back to their table, the girl staring over her shoulder and trusting her mom to guide her around obstacles. Chuckling a bit to herself and smiling, Beca looked back up at Ariel and the smile froze on her face like every single movie cliché she hated.

You expected Disney to hire women who looked like the characters they were portraying. You also expected them to be beautiful. But Beca could never have been prepared for the vision that came into view like a sunrise after the longest night of the year.

‘Fucking Jesse. All those movies have finally broken me.’

But this Princess was gorgeous and Beca couldn’t think past the wide and bright smile as Ariel looked around the room for a moment as she waved at everyone. Beca had no idea what expression was on her own face, though she was pretty sure she was heading straight to slack-jawed, but when that gaze reached their table, it kind of… stopped. Beca would almost say that Ariel looked startled, but with her brain working at a speed a snail would laugh at, she couldn’t figure out why that would be. She did notice that, somehow, that Ariel’s smile widened the longer they stared at each other, and Beca felt herself starting to return it. Then the blonde cast member stepped up and whispered in Ariel’s ear and the moment was broken as she jerked a little, seeming to come back to herself.

As Ariel went to the table closest to her, Beca remembered she wasn’t alone and looked around at her own table. Emily and Cynthia Rose were still digging into their food, so the whole incident couldn’t have lasted long, maybe less than a minute. But damned if it didn’t feel like longer.

Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes and looked up at Stacie. Maybe she didn’t notice. Maybe it’d been so quick…

“You okay there, DJ?” Stacie’s eyebrow was as high as it could go. Because of course she saw everything.

“Fine.” Beca muttered, beginning to cut a bite out of her waffles. “Shut up.” She fought against the smile that was trying to force itself across her face.

Stacie’s return grin was knowing. “I didn’t say anything.” She dug into her own plate. “Yet.”

Cynthia Rose looked between them. “I feel like we missed something.”

Stacie shook her head. “Nothing really. Just Beca smiling at the kids meeting the Princesses.”

Beca tried for nonchalance. “They were cute.”

Stacie grinned. “I saw.”

Beca’s lips twitched. “Shut up and eat your breakfast.”

She let herself get distracted by the conversation about various rides, trying to forget the smile or that stupid instant connection. Because that just didn’t happen in real life. Love at first sight was not a damn thing.

‘Though, I suppose, if it were to happen… It’d be fitting that it happened at Disneyland, right?’ Beca sternly told her inner voice to shut up and tried to wrestle it into a box for the rest of breakfast.

They were almost done eating when Beca happened to look over at Stacie, who was staring at her once more with that considering look in her eye and a highly amused expression.

“Seriously, Stace…” Beca fell silent as she felt someone come up behind them. She assumed it was the waiter to see if they needed a coffee refill. She felt a hand come to rest on her chair as what felt like the thumb came to rest ever slightly against her back before slipping away. God she hated it when strangers touched her, even by accident.

“How is everyone today?” A cheery voice asked behind her. “Everything good in the Kingdom?”

Beca turned from Stacie, whose expression hadn’t altered in the slightest. “Everything is…” And then there was almost an audible snap and fizzle – pftzt – and her ears filled with white noise as she met the clearest blue eyes she’d ever seen in her life. “Beautiful.” Not even the obvious Ariel wig could detract from how stunning the woman really was.

Several things happened at once.

Ariel, because of course it was her, smiled shyly as those eyes twinkled at her. Idly Beca wondered if she had literal stars in her eyes because normal people don’t shine like that.

Stacie let out what sounded like an involuntary giggle but Beca’s foot instinctively shot out and kicked her in the shin. “Ow. I…er…” She faked a cough. Beca hoped she’d remember to plot Stacie’s death later.

Cynthia Rose snorted and almost spit her coffee across the table.

Emily simply and quietly said “Aw.”

But mostly, Beca realized what she’d said, who she’d said it to and in front of – including the cast member escorting Ariel around – and she let her eyes close. She had the unique experience of wondering if she was light headed because all the blood was draining from her face only to rush back in to flame her cheeks.

Then she felt the thumb return and firmly stroke once down her spine. Beca didn’t even try to fight the shiver that followed it.

“Breakfast is great.” Stacie’s voice only held a hint of the amusement Beca knew she was feeling. Maybe she wouldn’t kill her, just maim her a little.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Ariel said. “It makes me happy to know that people are enjoying themselves.” She brushed her thumb down Beca’s back again. “Is this your first trip?”

Beca finally opened her eyes, though she’d averted them a little, and met that of the cast member standing nearby. She had a second to read the name tag – Aubrey – before she looked up into amused green eyes. Beca felt her flush deepen a little when Aubrey just smirked at her, though not unkindly. Beca looked back at Ariel for a second, before making the mistake of looking at Stacie, who fluttered an almost wink at her. Beca was just thinking that she was going to have to go back to killing her when she noticed Stacie’s eyes flicker to Aubrey. They quickly darted down and back up and Beca realized she had her own ammunition for teasing.

“Oh, no!  Most of us have been here lots of times.” Emily chirped beside her. “It is Cynthia Rose’s first time though.”

“At Disneyland.” Cynthia Rose said. “My first time… At Disneyland.”

“Well, then let me be one of the first to welcome you to the Kingdom.” Ariel said warmly. “We love new visitors! If you ever need anything, any of the staff will certainly help make your dreams come true.”

Beca almost choked on the mouthful of coffee she’d just taken. She felt the hand shift to her back, just the tips of all five fingers, but the heat radiating out from them seemed to suffuse her whole chest.

“Are you alright?” Ariel asked and Beca could hear the amusement laced through it.

‘If she didn’t say that in that way on purpose, I’ll eat this table.’ Beca coughed and cleared her throat. “Ye... yeah, everything’s good.” She swallowed and met those gorgeous blue eyes again. “Thank you.”

Aubrey leaned in. “Your Highness, we should really move on to see the others.” She flashed a smile at their table. “Sorry, but Princess Ariel is on a tight schedule.” Beca was pretty sure she wasn’t imagining that she lingered for a second on Stacie before turning away.

“Of course,” Beca said. “Can’t keep the kids waiting. It was really nice meeting you guys.” She bit the inside of her cheek and bowed her head slightly. “Your Highness.”

Blue eyes twinkled again – ‘Seriously, are there stars?’ – and Beca felt Ariel’s hand flatten against her back, pressing between her shoulder blades. “I hope we see you around here again.” And then she was gone before Beca had a chance to form any sort of reply though Aubrey flashed another grin at them as she followed. Beca didn’t miss that the smile had definitely been directed mostly at Stacie.

Beca turned back to the table. “The first person who says it gets a fork through their hand.” She drank the last of her coffee, refusing to look at any of them.

Stacie tilted her head. “It’s Wednesday, right?”

Beca lifted her fork. “If you even remotely make a hump day comment right now…” Stacie grinned at her slowly, looking like the fucking Cheshire Cat and Beca snarled back, annoyed that she knew exactly how Stacie’s mind worked and made the joke for her.

“But, Beca…” Emily whined. “That was so cute!”

“You can’t stab Legacy in the hand, B.” Stacie pointed out when Beca turned on Emily. “She’s a songwriter. She needs them.”

Beca sighed. “You guys aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” Cynthia Rose said. “You were right, Emily. I love character breakfasts.”

Beca rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair while the rest of them finished the last bites of their food. She couldn’t stop herself from looking around the room every couple of minutes, not sure what to do about the fact that every other time she did, Ariel seemed to be looking back at her. It wasn’t like she could go up and exchange numbers; the woman was working and couldn’t break character while on the job.

Plus, Beca had a rule about such things.

Beca sighed as they made their way out into the bright California sunshine and, almost immediately upon hitting the Pier, her three so-called friends started singing “Kiss the Girl.”

“I hate you guys so much right now.” Beca muttered, ignoring the laughter of people walking by the impromptu serenade.

“You so do not.” Emily said, breaking off singing briefly before jumping back in.

“You’re too full of looooove to hate anyone right now, DJ.” Stacie hip bumped her and accepted Cynthia Rose’s high five.

Beca looked up as she counted slowly to ten to avoid pushing them into the lagoon. The morning had cleared up some and the sun was making itself known. Today could turn out to be a warm one after all.

Though it was never as warm as the hand Beca swore she could still feel on her back for the rest of the day.

 ~B~

May, 2016

“Are you looking around for your girlfriend?” Stacie asked innocently.

Beca flipped her off. “I don’t have a girlfriend and no. I was people watching.”

“Beca.” Stacie sat down next to her on the bench. “You don’t people watch.”

“Sometimes I do!” Beca said defensively, unwilling to admit she may in fact have been a little too interested in all the character sightings they’d had that morning.

“Mmhmm.” Emily looked at her with one eye closed. “Do you always hum ‘Kiss the Girl’ when you people watch?” She grinned so impishly that Beca couldn’t even be mad at her about it.

Beca groaned and dropped her face in her hands. Stacie, Emily and Cynthia Rose had sung it to her on and off that entire day after breakfast and then at random moments over the past month. It was no wonder Beca had started humming it when she was distracted. It certainly wasn’t because she was daydreaming of doing that very thing with a certain Disney Princess.

The rest of that day had gone perfectly and by the end Cynthia Rose was as in love with Disneyland as the rest of them. The only flaw, obviously, being that Beca couldn’t get her mind to stop straying back to breakfast.

This was the first time they’d been back since The Encounter, as Stacie called it. Beca could hear the capitals every time she said it. They’d tried to return sooner, but work kept them busy. It was only the three of them this trip so Emily and Stacie both upped their teasing game in a way only childhood friends could do. Beca wasn’t sure they were both going to survive the day.

Beca dropped her hands and let them hang as she leaned her elbows on her knees. “I’m not so distracted that I haven’t seen you checking out all the blonde cast members, Stace. So don’t go all uppity on me now.”

Stacie shrugged and stood up again. “I’ve never claimed to be anything other than interested.” She sighed gustily. “She was hot.” She pursed her lips. “And I know her real name, so I’d say I’m at least half a step closer than you are.”

“Yeah, well…” Beca trailed off, not actually having any comeback. “Shut up.” Emily grinned and opened her mouth, but Beca whined. “Can’t we just drop it for today? It’s bad enough that I can’t get her out of my mind when I know I’m not gonna see her. The possibility exists today and…” She trailed off again, groaning. She felt twitchy and nervous, something she didn’t like feeling in normal circumstances, much less her happy place.

Beca squawked as Stacie pulled her to her feet. “Aw, there there, DJ.” She pulled Beca into a hug, which essentially shoved her face into Stacie’s cleavage even as Beca tried to push her away. “It’ll all be alright.” She wrapped her arms tighter around Beca as she tried to squirm free and swayed them side to side, making soothing shushing sounds as she tried not to laugh at Beca’s frustrated noises. “That’s it, just let it allll out.” Beca could hear Emily snickering from somewhere out of kicking range though she still tried to fling a foot at her.

Beca finally stopped trying to pull free as she let her arms drop to hang at her sides. Her voice was muffled as she said, “I’m pretty sure death by boobs isn’t allowed here, Stace.” She knew fighting it would just prolong her torture. And, okay, so some of the joking around was actually making her feel better.

Emily’s giggles were cut off by a laugh filled voice from beside them.

“That’s what I like to see.” There was a light chuckle. “People having fun in the Park.”

She may have only heard it briefly for a few minutes a month ago, and it may have currently been somewhat blocked by Stacie’s chest partially covering her ears, but Beca recognized it immediately. She renewed her efforts to get out of Stacie’s grip but the woman had arms like a python and they only wrapped tighter as she struggled.

“She just needed some cheering up.” Stacie’s voice reverberated under her ear.

“I’m good now.” Beca finally pushed her way out, blinking rapidly as she tried to brush her hair into some semblance of order. “Thanks.” Scowling, she promised Stacie a slow death before finally looking to her right. Just out of view of the street, Princess Ariel and Aubrey the cast member were standing behind one of the wooden fences that led to the Members Only area of California Adventure. She hadn’t even realized they were near an entrance when she declared a rest break. “Uh.” She cleared her throat. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Ariel smiled at her. “Nice to see you again.”

Beca could tell by her tone that she meant it, and it made her almost as happy as the thought that Ariel remembered her after so long. “It’s nice to be seen – No.” Beca shook her head. “Sorry… I, uh…”

Ariel waved her hand. “It’s okay. Oxygen deprivation can be serious, depending on long you were in there.” When she grinned slyly Beca wanted to die a million times over.

“Ariel,” Aubrey said. “You can’t…” She cleared her throat, smiling though Beca could hear the bite in her tone. “I mean, we’re due at…”

“It’s okay, Bree.” Ariel turned and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take the heat if I get caught breaking character.” Aubrey visibly restrained a sigh but Beca could see the eye roll.

“You know, DJ…” Stacie came up beside Beca and leaned an elbow on her shoulder. “I think this counts as time two for your rule.”

“Shut up.” Beca hissed and tried to shrug her off.

“There’s a rule?” Ariel asked, taking a step closer, though still out of sight from the rest of the people walking by.

“Nothing.” Beca answered quickly, but Stacie talked right over the top of her.

“She’s got this ‘third time’s the charm’ rule.” Stacie lifted her chin as Beca reached up to cover her mouth. “Stop trying to hit me. There’s no violence at Disneyland.” She pushed Beca’s hands down and continued to block them when they instantly came back up. “If she runs into someone she’s attracted to three times, by chance, she has to ask them out because it might be the Universe telling her something.” She smirked, looking highly pleased with herself.

Feeling the tips of her ears grow warm, Beca finally got her hand over Stacie’s mouth, though she knew it was way too late. “Bucky, I swear…”

“Ah ah ah.” Ariel shook her finger. “There’s no swearing in the Kingdom.” She took another step closer. “Three times, huh?” Her smile grew but Aubrey took her arm before she took another step closer, which would have brought her out from behind the fence. “Well then. I hope to see you around.” Then she winked.

Beca tried to reply, but all that came out were unintelligible noises as her hand dropped from Stacie’s mouth again. It wasn’t fair – her eyes still sparkled and then she winks? Beca thought surely she could be forgiven for losing the power of speech and she was actually grateful when Stacie covered her mouth to stop her.

Emily bounced in place. “We’re in the park the next two days.”

Ariel leaned forward and whispered, “If I go looking for you, that wouldn’t be by chance then, would it?”

Emily leaned back on her heels. “Hm. Good point.” Smiling, she nodded. “It’s true, Princesses are wise.”

“We’ve really got to go now, or we’re going to be late.” Aubrey urged, looking behind them. “Eric’s coming, you need to be, you know… Princess-y.”

Ariel smiled again and fluffed up her dress. “Duty calls.” She walked out past them, inclining her head regally. “Until next time.” Her tone left no uncertainty that there would be a next time.

Aubrey followed, looking skyward and muttering under her breath. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Stacie turned to watch her go, saying a bit louder than necessary. “I certainly hope not.” She was rewarded when Aubrey gave her a startled smile over her shoulder as they passed out of earshot. “Seriously, are cast members allowed to be that hot?” Stacie fanned herself.

Beca walked back over and slumped on the bench. “It’s not fair. Like, not fair at all.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She heard more footsteps approaching from behind the fence and the quiet murmur of voices.

“Has anyone seen my Princess, Ariel?” A soft voice, somehow dreamy and jovial at the same time, brought her head back up. She looked over to see a man with black hair, a kind face and a fancy prince costume beside them, another cast member waiting patiently behind him.

“She went thataway.” Stacie pointed down the street. “If you hurry, you’ll catch her.”

But Prince Eric, because of course who else would it be, had stopped before them and bowed, extending his hand to Emily. Beca watched, fascinated, as Emily’s face went as red as Ariel’s wig.

“Allow me to introduce myself.” He wiggled his fingers until Emily placed her hand in his. “I am Prince Eric and it is absolutely enchanting to meet you.” He leaned over her hand like he was going to kiss it, but merely hovered a proper distance before looking back up. “And you are?”

Emily squeaked, doing a remarkable imitation of Beca a few minutes ago as her mouth worked to make actual words.

Stacie eventually took pity on her. “This tall drink of water is Emily.”

“Emily.” He said it carefully, almost as if he were memorizing it. “What a lovely name for a lovely woman.” He smiled at her and Emily returned it, both of them lost in each other’s eyes.

‘Ha! I’m not the only one losing their shit at Disneyland!’ Beca thought to herself, already counting up the things she was going to be able to tease Emily over. She didn’t even bother with Stacie anymore; her friend was not easily embarrassed by her attractions and often would expound on them with details that Beca could gladly go without hearing.

After another moment, the cast member coughed politely and Eric seemed to come back to himself. “I’m sorry, I must go or I’ll be late.” He released Emily’s hand and bowed again. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” He jerked as he remembered she wasn’t alone and turned to Beca and Stacie. “All of you.” He flushed slightly and awkwardly turned away, then back, his eyes once more scanning Emily’s face, then finally headed down the street to the rest of the park.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” Beca wondered out loud. “Did we land in the Twilight Zone?”

“No, we haven’t gone on the Tower yet today.” Stacie offered.

“Well shit, might as well do that, I’m already in freaking free-fall.” Emily grunted.

“Legacy!” Beca laughed. “No cursing at Disneyland!”

“At this point, fuck it.” Emily shrugged. “I’m already going to Disney-hell because I think someone else’s prince is dreamy.”

“Hearing you curse is never not adorable.” Stacie grinned at Emily. “It’s like when a toddler says it.”

“It is not!” Emily glared at her, though it was ruined by the smirk she was trying to suppress.

“I mean, she’s right, Legacy.” Beca shrugged. “It is pretty cute.”

“Fuck off.” Emily threw back even as her smile broke through, though her cheeks flushed slightly.

“Rude.” Stacie scoffed while laughing.

Happy to be with her two best friends, Beca chuckled the entire time it took them to walk to Tower of Terror and make it through the line. She kept it down during the opening video but started up again once they were seated because Emily insisted on sitting between them and claimed her usual death grip on their arms.

As they reached the top, the final ultimate hesitation before the ride dropped, the door opened and her laugh rang out across the park when Emily screamed, “Why do I always fucking let you talk me into this!?”

 ~C~

June, 2016

Chloe absently made her way to the Starbucks by the entrance of California Adventure. While the park was just opening, she didn’t start work for another hour or so. Plenty of time to stop for a little caffeine kick and something to munch on before she got into her costume.

Opening the door, she took her place in line, idly scanning the faces around her. After paying and picking up her order, she noticed two women who had stepped into the pick-up area as she turned to leave. In seconds she’d pushed past the people between them, apologizing the entire way, and wound around to stand behind them.

“Where is she?” Chloe demanded, surprised at the urgency suddenly in her chest.

The two brunettes spun around and stared at her for a moment before their eyes widened in recognition.

“Sorry.” Chloe took a deep breath and forced herself to have a moment of calm. “I mean… Hi.” She gave what she knew was only a weak smile. But she refused to consider that their friend wasn’t with them; life wouldn’t be that cruel, would it? She felt her heart thump anxiously. “Where?”

Grinning widely, both of them shot their arms out to point, almost clotheslining a family of three who were walking past. Chloe ignored the angry glare of the mother they’d almost decked and followed their fingers. Sitting out in the sun was the woman who hadn’t strayed far from her thoughts for almost two months. She grinned at them even as her body relaxed almost immediately. “Thanks!” She spun on her heel and made her way outside, sensing more than seeing one of them rush toward the window. She was, however, aware of the banging that started up as she passed through the doors and turned left.

The shorter brunette had just begun to look up where the younger - who Benji had identified as Emily after she and Aubrey questioned him closely about who he was mooning over after the second encounter - was trying to talk to her through window and frantically pointing at Chloe’s approach. But Chloe was on a mission and moved quickly. Before the other woman could even begin to look around, Chloe had set down her food, leaned over and plucked the phone out of her hand.

“Hey! That’s my fuc-” Dark tresses twirled as she turned around and reached for her phone. A movement that was halted when she looked up and met Chloe’s eyes. “Holy shit. You!” A pause. “Your hair…” Her hand lifted as if she were going to reach out and touch it before she quite obviously restrained herself and forced it back down to her lap.

Chloe smiled. “Not red enough for Ariel, but still red.” She looked back down and brought up the contacts app. Quickly she entered her information, noticing how the other woman sat back in her chair, eyes locked on Chloe’s face. “I’d say this counts as time three.” She brought up a text to herself and sent a single heart emoji.

The response was slow, considering. “I guess it is.” Jesus, her dark blue eyes were gorgeous and Chloe felt herself fall a little bit. A feeling that only grew with the smile spreading across the other woman’s face.

It was all Chloe could do to not start squealing like one of the children she interacted with daily. She knew, knew, if she sat down to talk now, she was going to miss her shift. And she couldn’t do that. Nor could she be late because Aubrey would outright kill her. She grabbed onto her giddy excitement and put it into a headlock. “Guess you’ll have to text me.” She picked up her coffee. “The Universe, and all.” She took a step back, every fiber of her body telling her to stay where she was.

“Right.” She could see the other girl swallow. “Can’t ignore the Universe.”

“Then I guess I’ll be hearing from you soon.” Chloe forced herself to turn around by sheer iron will and walk calmly away, feeling eyes on her until she’d rounded a building and was out of sight.

‘Jesus, I need to talk to Aubrey. She’s going to flip.’

Chloe refused to look at her phone until she’d wound her way through to the employee entrance, showing her badge and absently made her way to the break room. She was trying not to be disappointed in the fact that her phone hadn’t buzzed yet. ‘Give it time. She will text. I just know it.’

When Aubrey got there, Chloe had almost talked herself down, but her excitement ratcheted up again when her friend took the seat next to her.

“Morning, Chlo.” Aubrey covered a yawn.

“Morning, Bree.” Chloe could feel her face split into a grin and tried to tamp it down. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept fine.” Aubrey’s eyes narrowed at her. “How much coffee have you had already? You’re practically vibrating.”

“I saw her!” Chloe reached out and gripped Aubrey’s arm. “Third time’s the charm girl and her friends.”

Aubrey’s eyes shot wide. “All three of them?”

“Yep!” Chloe nodded. “Even the one you won’t admit is cute.”

“I believe I did admit that when you got me trashed two weeks ago.” Aubrey took a sip of her coffee. “So? What happened?”

Chloe quickly explained how the encounter had gone and took out her phone to stare at it. “And now I’m doing that pathetic waiting thing.” She saved the unknown number in her phone as ‘Princess Charming.’

“It’s not... okay, it’s a little pathetic –” Aubrey yelped when Chloe thumped her in the side. She had been watching over Chloe’s shoulder as she saved the contact. “Wait. You didn’t get her name?�� She sat back as Chloe shook her head. “The first time you guys can actually talk because you’re not in costume, and you didn’t get her name?”

“I knew if I sat down to talk to her, one of two things would happen.” She held up her index finger. “One: I’d be late and you would kill me.”

Aubrey nodded slowly. “True. And two?”

“I would have missed my shift entirely. And you would kill me.” As Aubrey laughed, Chloe set the phone down on the table and stared at it while picking up her coffee.  “And I’ve never missed a day. So…” she shrugged. “Here I am.” She took a drink and sighed.

“I’m proud of you. It’s like you’re all grown up.” Aubrey shoulder bumped her and Chloe smiled reluctantly. “I’m also happy the apparently magical ‘third time’ happened. Maybe now you’ll be able to stop talking about her.” She mock rolled her eyes. “Between you and Benji, it’s like I’m the only one keeping my cool.”

“Don’t think I haven’t seen you bite your lip and daydream.” Chloe took a bite of the muffin she had almost forgotten about.

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve caught me moaning about for months on end.” Aubrey said.

“Oh? You’ve moaned in your daydreaming?” Chloe said innocently. “She is pretty hot…”

“Shut up!” Aubrey laughed again, a faint flush covering her cheeks. “You know what I mean.”

“But what if she-” Chloe broke off as her phone buzzed. “Ohmygod.” Her heart was suddenly trying run a marathon in her chest as a mass of butterflies took off in her stomach.

“Breathe, Chlo.” Aubrey put a hand on her arm and squeezed before resting her chin on Chloe’s shoulder to read the message with her.

Not bothered in the least by her best friend’s nosiness, Chloe picked up the phone and opened the new text.

 Princess Charming: Hi Chloe. This is Beca. Though I guess we never did get around to introductions, so thanks for putting your name in my phone. I was wondering if you would like to meet me after you’re off work?

 Chloe grinned, ready to type out a reply when Aubrey spoke up.

“Wait.” She held up a hand. “Just… I feel I would be remiss if I did not say at least once that this is how kidnappings begin.”

“Come on, Bree.” Chloe rolled her yes. “You don’t really believe that any more than I do, especially in this case. These aren’t human traffickers luring innocent women in.”

“You don’t actually know...” When Chloe glared at her, she shrugged. “Ok, no. I don’t think that. Those three seem to be exactly what they appear to be. But I’d feel better if… oh I don’t know. You guys met in the Parks.”

“Where you can keep an eye on me?” Chloe grinned. “Aw, that’s so sweet.” She looked down as another text came through.

 Princess Charming: I realize how this could sound sketchville, so how about we meet by the Grotto. And since I’ll have my two idiot friends - Stacie and Emily, by the way - with me still, you can totally bring friends with you. Safety in numbers and all that.

 Chloe looked up at Aubrey. “See? Totes not going to kidnap me.” She waited a beat. “So you’ll go with me, right?”

“Well obviously.” Aubrey smiled and Chloe could feel the excitement rolling over her that she was trying to hide. “Stacie, huh?” Aubrey’s eyes took on a distant look that Chloe decided to let pass. For now.

“Benji works the later shift tonight, but I’m sure he’ll meet us after.” Chloe bounced in her chair. “Oh Bree, I don’t know how I’m going to get through this shift.”

“You’ve made it this long, eight more hours isn’t going to kill you.” One long finger reached out and tapped Chloe’s phone. “Plus you haven’t actually said yes yet.”

“Oops.” Chloe laughed and started typing.

 Chloe: Hi Beca. I would love to meet you after work at the Grotto. I should be able to be there by 6:30-7. My friend Aubrey will be with me and maybe one other once his shift ends later tonight before the fireworks. I don’t suppose you guys would want to have dinner with us?

 After it sent, Chloe picked at her muffin, trying to calm her bubbling stomach. “That’s not too forward, is it?”

“Asking us all to dinner as a first date?” Aubrey blocked the half-hearted swat Chloe aimed at her. “No. You know we’ll be hungry. It’ll be a great way to talk and get to know each other without pressure.” She smiled. “It sounds nice.”

Mischievously Chloe said, “A double date, no less.” She took a breath, ignoring the faux glare Aubrey directed at her. “But, yeah. That’s what I was thinking. Ok.” She finished off the last of her muffin. “We’ll have to think where to take them.”  She updated Beca’s name in her phone as she discussed the “fancier” restaurant choices with Aubrey. It may not be a first date in name, but Chloe admitted she was as nervous and excited as if it were.

 Beca: Dinner sounds great. Is it weird to say that I’m looking forward to being able to actually talk to you without a timetable?

 Chloe: Nope. Because I’m really looking forward to it too. But there’s a scratchy wig calling my name, so we’re not free yet. Hope you have a great time in the Parks today.

 Beca: It’s a date.

 Before Chloe could do more than inhale, her phone buzzed again.

 Beca: I mean. If you want. It doesn’t have to be.

Beca: I’m going to shut up now. Have a good day, Chlo.

 She read through their messages again, knowing Aubrey was still reading over her shoulder. Chloe had been on plenty of dates before, but none of them had ever had her at this level of anticipation. Or nerves. Thoughtfully she tapped out one last message.

 Chloe: I can get behind date. See you tonight, Becs.

 “Nicknames already, huh?” Aubrey sat back again. “That’s so cute.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She paused, tapping her nails on the table. “There’s just something about her, Bree. I don’t even understand it myself. You know me... Sure, I can sometimes get carried away. But I don’t just...” she trailed off, waving her hand. “Leap.”

“I know you don’t.” Aubrey reached out and squeezed her forearm. “I’m happy for you, Chlo. You know that.” She waited until Chloe looked at her. “Even I can see it and you know I don’t really have a feel for that type of thing.”

Chloe felt herself relax a little under Aubrey’s touch. “Well,” Chloe said as she stood up to gather her trash. “You better, cause I think Stacie might look at you with more than just potentially indecent thoughts in mind.”

Aubrey stood with her. “In the whole two seconds you’ve been able to take your eyes off Short and Mysterious?” She pushed Chloe toward the dressing rooms.

Chloe let herself get guided out of the room. “You can’t fight it if the Universe wills it, Aubrey.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah. Let’s just get through tonight before you have me married off.”

Laughing, both of them got dressed for their day and tried to figure out what restaurant to make reservations at on their first break.

 ~B~

 Beca watched the redhead stroll casually away from her until she was lost in the crowd of people. She wasn’t ashamed to admit she felt a little dazed at the speed in which that had just happened. She looked down at her phone to make sure it really had. Sure enough, there was a text to one Chloe and Beca half grinned to herself when she saw the single pink heart.

“Holy shit, B!” There was a flurry of movement as Stacie and Emily sat down at the table with their drinks. “Did that really happen?” Stacie grabbed her phone.

Beca laughed at the mirror to her thoughts. “Yes.”

“Oh my gosh!” Emily beamed. “Did you ask her out?”

“Not yet.” Beca looked back down the street. When she turned back around, she jumped a little when she was met with twin looks of outrage. “Oh my god, what!?”

“What do you mean ‘not yet’?” Emily was indignant. “This was your chance!”

“Dude!” Beca paused to try and gather her thoughts. “Just… give me a minute. That… I feel like I’ve got a lot to process.” She closed her eyes and ignored the stares she could feel burning a hole through her for a slow count to thirty while she tried to come down from the rush of panic at thinking her phone was being stolen only to have jumped immediately into a different kind of panic at seeing Ariel – Chloe.

“Are you shitting?” Emily turned to Stacie. “She totally looks like she’s shitting.”

Beca’s eyes popped open.“I am NOT SHIT-” Beca broke off when a number of people looked at her. “I’m fine.”

“But you didn’t ask her out.” Stacie stated.

“I didn’t have time.” Beca reached over and took her drink from in front of Stacie. “Emily started trying to bang her way through the glass and my phone was taken from my hand. I turned around to yell and…” Beca took a sip. “There was this amazing red hair… And those eyes.”

“Mm.” Emily nodded. “You are a sucker for eyes.”

“And they’re gorgeous.” Stacie said dreamily.

“Hey, you get your thoughts off Chloe’s eyes.” Beca sat up. “I know it takes you less than a second to go porny.”

Stacie shrugged then her own green eyes narrowed. “You didn’t ask her out, but you got her name?”

“Do you want to hear it or not?” Beca asked. Both her friends mimed zipping up their lips and throwing away the key. “Anyway. Legacy almost broke the window, my phone was out of my hand and before I knew it, she was entering her name and number into my phone.” Beca took another drink. “She said that this counted as time three and told me to text her. Because the Universe.” Beca shook her head. “This rule has never worked out well for me before but…” She trailed off and looked over her shoulder where Chloe had disappeared.

“This one feels different.” Stacie said it like a statement of fact, not a question.

Beca turned to look at her and asked slyly, “Are we talking about me or you now?”

“Eh.” Stacie shrugged. “But... Seriously. Are you going to text her or what?”

“Of course. I just…” Beca shrugged. “Am planning.” She held up a finger when both of them opened their mouths. “Just give me a minute.” She ignored the fact that Stacie got up to sit on her left while Emily pulled her chair closer on the right, allowing them to read her screen.

“Becs almost touched her hair.” Emily suddenly said.

“What? I did not.” Beca shifted in her chair. Because she totally almost did. She had wanted to sink her fingers into it and pull Chloe down…

“Yes you did.” Emily insisted. “Don’t even try to lie to me.”

Beca sighed. “It just… looked so soft. I wanted to know what it would feel like to have a curl wrapped around my finger.” She shook her head. “And then I stopped myself before I was slapped.”

“I don’t think she’d have slapped you.” Stacie said thoughtfully. “Unless you take too long to text her,” she added pointedly. “Never keep a woman waiting, B.”

“Alright!” Beca took a deep breath and set her phone down to rub her hands on her jeans. “This is stupid. Why am I so nervous? It’s just a damn text.” Except she felt the weight of that text sitting heavily in her chest. She took a steadying breath and picked up her phone again. “Guess I should introduce myself. And no, there wasn’t time for that. It was just…” Beca trailed off.

“Whirlwind.” Stacie patted her arm. “It’s okay, DJ. I know sometimes you’re a bit slow to process.”

“Shut up.” Beca said absently, typing out her intro and asking Chloe out to dinner.

“God, that sounds pushy, doesn’t it?” Beca bit the side of her nail. “Or… presumptuous? Oh god, what if it’s creepy?”

“Beca, calm down.” Emily leaned against her shoulder to offer moral support. “It’s all going to be fine. She already knows you planned on asking her out. I mean, that’s the whole point of your rule.”

“Which I so thoughtfully explained for you.” Stacie finished. “Legacy is right. Chloe knows.” She grinned. “And based on how adamantly she demanded to know where you were, she’s really looking forward to it.”

“Wait, what?” Beca realized she hadn’t gotten the full story from their side. “Explain.” She started typing even as she began to smile at the thought that Chloe might be as interested as Beca was. “But first… do you guys think it’s less sketchy to have a group meeting first? Since we’re all already in the park and all…”

“Plus I drove you here.” Stace interjected.

“Right.” Beca paused and looked up. “So?”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Stacie said. “Plus it really does add to a safety factor for both of you if you invite us and she invites a few of her friends. Say, like, that cast member she’s always with.” She blinked innocently over her cup as she took a drink.

“Subtle.” Beca laughed as she finished her text and sent it off. “And I know you remember her name.” She looked up again. “Ok, tell me your side.”

Emily eagerly gave the short details from the inside encounter, along with a demonstration of the dramatic point she and Stacie had done – where she almost took out a toddler in a stroller. “Oh!” Emily quickly pulled her arm back in. “I’m so…” She watched as the woman huffed and pushed past. “Sorry?”

“We’re going to have to register those as dangerous weapons, Em.” Stacie laughed. “Wait.” She peered over Beca’s shoulder. “We’re not idiots.” She sniffed haughtily.

“At least not most of the time.” Emily shrugged.

Beca laughed absently, her attention mostly on her phone though it still made her jump when it buzzed in her hand. “She asked me… us… for dinner!”

“Woo!” Stacie pumped her fist. “Aubrey too!” She stared back when they just looked at her. “What? Beca’s the only one who can be excited?”

“Touché.” Beca shrugged. She tuned out her surroundings while she agreed to dinner and decided to be a little more open. It seemed easier to say she was looking forward to the evening via text. Less stressful.

Until… “Oh shit!” Beca sat up and typed out two more quick texts.

“What?” Stacie looked down at her phone and Beca had to push her head out of the way. “Aw, you called it a date and then panicked.” She kissed the side of Beca’s head. “Don’t ever change, B. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Emily squeaked next to them. “And you called her Chlo! That’s so cute.” She clasped her hands together and fluttered her eyelashes.

“That was a little more open than I was planning-” Beca trailed off as the last text from Chloe came through.  “Though, I guess… maybe not.” One corner of her mouth twitched up. “I have a date?”

“You’ve got a date at Disneyland!” Emily bounced in her chair. “It’ll be magical!”

“All of us are going to be there, so it’s not like it’ll be romantic, Em.” Beca picked up her forgotten coffee and took a drink.

“You never know.” Stacie said as she stood up. “Anywhere is romantic if you’re with the right person.”

“Stacie Conrad – a romantic?” Beca stood up. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“I’ve always been romantic, B.” Stacie pulled Emily’s chair back for her. “It’s just never directed at you.” She paused, considering. “Mostly because you’d have turned me down and said something about being too sisterly for you.” She shrugged. “I’d have rocked your world though.”

“Gross.” Emily said as she threw away their trash.

“C’mon, let’s hit the Disney side, we’ll come back here for Beca’s big date later this afternoon.” Stacie looped her arm with Beca’s as they headed back toward the entrance.

“You’re going to use the word ‘date’ for the rest of the day, aren’t you?” Beca asked, resigned already to her fate.

“You know it, DJ.” Stacie pulled Emily in and looped her arm as well.

Beca gave an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me with that big, fluffy heart of yours.” Stacie said, not even looking at her.

“Oh. Right. Damnit.” Beca led the way out the gate.

As they crossed the wide expanse between the two parks, dodging running, excited children, Beca wondered if the small thread she felt tugging her back where she came from was in her heart or just her mind.

‘I have a date.’ Beca grinned to herself before clearing her throat. “Space Mountain is calling my name, let’s pick up the pace.”

‘I have a date.’ She thought again as she took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling uncharacteristically giddy.

For the first time ever at Disneyland, Beca couldn’t wait for the day to pass.

 ~C~

 “For the last time, your makeup is fine.” Aubrey laughed and pushed Chloe toward the dressing room exit. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Aw, thanks Bree.” Chloe held the door open for her. “You’re looking hot yourself. Any particular reason?” Normally they would wait until they got home to shower but today they had both taken advantage of the facilities to primp a little.

“Maybe.” Aubrey weaved through various employees as she led them toward the park. “Maybe you’re not the only one looking forward to dinner.”

“A crush looks good on you.” Chloe grinned. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen it.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve felt a serious interest in someone.” Aubrey said absently as she dodged a guy in a Stitch costume.

Chloe opened her mouth and then closed it again. She’d been about to say ‘Oh, so Stacie is someone serious?’ but she didn’t want to push Aubrey the wrong way and have her retreat. Even if all they did was have a nice dinner and conversation, it was still more interest than Aubrey had shown in anyone in a while.

She felt her stomach begin to flutter as they approached the bridge leading to the grotto and she saw three brunettes leaning on the railing and watching the Ferris wheel go around. She felt Aubrey’s hand squeeze once on her arm and looked over to an encouraging nod.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe walked up behind them. “Fancy meeting you here.” All three turned, smiling and Chloe blinked. “Seriously, are you all sisters?”

“Not by blood.” Beca said. “Just by choice.” She shot a look to her left. “Mostly.”

“You love me. Hi, I’m Stacie.” Stacie smiled. “Nice to finally meet you, Ariel.”

Chloe wrinkled her nose. “I’m incognito, just call me Chloe.”

“Hi guys. I’m Emily.” Emily waved at them and Chloe grinned at the younger woman’s enthusiasm.

But before Chloe could return her greeting, Stacie leveled her eyes at Aubrey and even Chloe could feel a bit of the heat coming off them. “And you’re Aubrey.” Her smile was slow but wide.

“Stacie.” Aubrey met her gaze for several heartbeats before a returning grin crossed her lips. She then turned to Emily and her smile shifted into something lighter. “Emily. Glad to have names. It got awkward referring to you as Brunette One, Two and Three.”

“Who was Brunette One?” Beca asked curiously.

Chloe shrugged, “Depended on who was talking at the time.”

Beca smiled. “Oh.” She studied Chloe for a minute then held out her hand. “Hi, Chloe.”

“Oh no, I’m much more of a hugger.” And before anyone could blink, she’d stepped forward and pulled Beca into a hug that was tighter than most of her get-to-know-you hugs. It was weird considering they’d been in each other’s presence all of maybe fifteen minutes before now, but she felt like she’d known Beca for months. It probably had something to do with how often she’d thought of her since that first breakfast in April. She felt Beca’s arms close around her, gingerly at first, then they tightened when Chloe didn’t let go.

“I can deal with that.” Beca said as she hooked her chin over Chloe’s shoulder.

“Since when?” Emily asked. “Your personal space bubble is huge.” She paused for a minute and added thoughtfully, “And covered with spikes. There’s a moat… Gators….” she trailed off, grinning.

“It’s called growth, Legacy.” Stacie said. “She can’t grow any taller, so she’s gotta go with personality changes.”

Chloe laughed and pulled back as Beca took a step toward Stacie. “Slow down there, tiger. I happen to think you’re the perfect height.” She turned and pulled Emily and Stacie into hugs that weren’t quite as tight or as long but no less sincere. Emily returned it with enthusiasm, her bubbly personality coming through as she giggled into Chloe’s ear. Stacie wrapped her up in long arms, bending considerately so Chloe didn’t end up in her cleavage.

When she stepped back, Aubrey was letting go of Beca’s hand and reaching for Emily’s. “I’m the one who respects personal boundaries. Unlike some people.” Aubrey let go of Emily and turned to Stacie and Chloe could tell she was considering going in for a hug anyway. But Aubrey only extended her hand and Stacie took it in a firm grip. They didn’t shake; they just held on and eyed each other appraisingly. Chloe thought it was beyond adorable how they were testing the waters when even she could see the spark between them.

Chloe checked her watch. It was 6:40 and she had made reservations for them at Wine Country Trattoria for seven. There was plenty of time for the short walk, provided there were no objections. She bit her lip. “I know I should have asked this sooner, but are you okay with the Trattoria for dinner?”

“Wine and good company?” Stacie asked. “Works for me.” She shoulder bumped Emily. “This one can’t drink, but the rest of us are of consenting age.”

“Sorry, Em.” Beca laughed when Emily mock pouted. “Soon enough. What time is the reservation?”

“Seven.” Chloe looked at her watch again. “It gives us plenty of time to eat and get to know each other before the fireworks.”

Beca checked her own watch and looked up again. “Shall we take a stroll?”

The five of them walked over to the restaurant, sharing small talk about their day and saving the bigger discussions for when they were seated. Chloe had just finished telling a story about a young girl who tried to lift up her dress to see her mermaid tail when they walked up to the hostess.

“We’re a bit early, but reservation for Beale?” Chloe said with a smile.

“Party of five?” The hostess nodded. “We can actually seat you now. Outside as requested.”

“Thank you!” Chloe led the way as they followed the hostess to their table.

Once they were all seated with menus and had given their drink orders – one of each of the Wine Flights to start and a lemonade for Emily – they began the usual ‘getting to know you’ talk.

It turns out Chloe and Aubrey had been to most of the clubs Beca had DJ’d at, though not on the nights Beca had been there. They made her promise to tell them the next time she had a gig so they could see her in action.

“Wait.” Aubrey turned to Emily. “You’re a song writer?”

“Aspiring, but yeah.” Emily nodded.

“Anything we’d have heard of?” Aubrey asked.

“No, though Beca and I are working on something together.” Emily leaned on the table. “Maybe it’ll be the break we need to intern at a studio.”

“That sounds exciting!” Chloe touched Emily’s hand. “I’d love to hear it when it’s done.”

Emily looked past Chloe at Beca who was nodding slightly when Chloe turned a pleading expression her way. She burst into laughter. “I was already going to say yes, but, tell me – Has anyone been able to resist those puppy dog eyes?” She shook her head. “Cause they’d be a stronger person than me.”

“I can.” Aubrey smirked.

“Aubrey’s the only one so far. I’ve yet to find her weakness.” Chloe narrowed her eyes at her friend. “But I haven’t given up.”

Stacie grinned. “Keep me posted?” Chloe winked at her. “So, how long have you guys known each other?”

“Forever, it feels like.” Aubrey sighed. “But in truth, only since college. So…” She looked at Chloe. “What, eight years?”

“Something like that.” Chloe shrugged. “Long enough that you’re family.”

“Do you guys always work together then?” Stacie asked, leaning back in her chair.

“Totes. Bree is the best at keeping me on time and has just the right intimidating-yet-nice stare to keep the persistent guys at bay.” Chloe twisted her lips. “You’d be surprised at the number of guys who try to hit on a Disney Princess in a swarm of kids.”

“It’s gross.” Aubrey said decisively. “Especially on this side if they’ve been drinking.”

“But one look from Bree sends most of them packing.” Chloe batted her eyelashes. “My hero.”

While they were laughing, the waiter came up and took their order. They resumed their easy conversation as Aubrey explained that she was taking classes to finish her law degree. She’d never really settled on a specialty while in college, so she followed Chloe across the country while she considered her options. Chloe herself was trying to decide between a teaching degree or something more free, such as a dance instructor. Until then, she was content to play Ariel even if the hours were long and the days sometimes too hot.

Aubrey turned in her chair. “And you’re a… Chemist?”

“What, you think I can’t look like this and have a brain too?” Stacie’s voice was teasing.

“That’s… No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. But it does mean you’re the full package.” Aubrey closed one eye as she realized what she said. “Can we forget I said that?”

“Nope.” Stacie laughed. “But I’ll wait until next time to bring it up again.” Aubrey only smiled at her, a bit shyly in Chloe’s opinion.

Chloe grinned to herself, happy that Aubrey seemed to have finally met someone she liked that wasn’t immediately intimidated by her sometimes gruff exterior.

When dinner was served, the conversation stayed light with a mix of stories from the Park and Beca’s club adventures that kept them laughing the entire time.

They lingered over drinks, having long since finished the wine flights and switched to beer, and the conversation never waned, never grew awkward like you would think would happen when two groups of people met for the first time.

Aubrey looked at her watch. “As much as I hate to cut this short, if we’re going to get to our spot for the fireworks, we’ll have to go soon.” She started to pick up the bill but Stacie put her hand on it.

“I got this one.” She smiled at Aubrey.

“Except I’m the one who invited you all to dinner.” Chloe said, tapping the table. “So therefore I should pay.”

Beca slipped the folder with the bill from under their hands. “It’s my rule, how about I get it.” She slid her credit card into it and signaled the waiter before anyone could stop her. “We’ll just have to take turns.”

Chloe leaned on the table and into Beca’s space. “So, you’re saying there’s going to be a next time?”

Beca studied her face for a moment, entirely too serious for the lighthearted way Chloe had said it. “I think so.” Her eyes flicked between Chloe’s for another second. “I definitely hope so.”

Chloe suddenly felt shy and happy all at once, rendered briefly speechless at the warmth those words spread through her. While they were entirely inadequate for how she really felt, she could only offer a simple, “Me too.” She hoped her smile conveyed even part of how much she was enjoying the night so far.

The five of them made their way across the park, Chloe and Aubrey pointing out hidden secrets as they walked. It was only a few minutes before Chloe felt Beca take her hand and twined their fingers together. Once they got into Disneyland, Aubrey guided them until they got to where she’d told Benji to meet them. It wasn’t in the middle of the crowd waiting for the fireworks but close to one of the shops, so he should be able to find them easily.

Beca had let go of her hand only to wind an arm around Chloe’s waist. Chloe leaned into her, thinking – not for the first time – how nice the night had been. Despite Aubrey’s not-really-serious concerns, the women seemed to be nothing more than three fun loving friends. They were all charming and funny. Chloe wasn’t sure the last time she’d seen Aubrey laugh so hard she snorted. Of course she was immediately mortified, but Stacie had been delighted. Chloe got the feeling Stacie was going to make that a daily goal if she could.

They’d barely gotten settled when the first firework lit up the sky. After a moment, Chloe half turned to Beca, though she was still looking upward. “Aren’t they beautiful?” When there was no reply, she looked over at Beca who was studying her intently with a small half smile. “What?”

But Beca only shook her head and leaned forward to press their lips together. Chloe felt herself relax into it as Beca reached up and tugged at a curl before cupping her cheek.

After a moment, they parted and Chloe sighed. “I’ve been wondering what that would be like since April.”

“Oh?” Beca ran her hand through Chloe’s hair. “And?”

“The reality is so much better.” Chloe hummed happily. “I think we should do that a lot more.”

“Your Highness,” Beca said coyly. “What would your subjects say?”

“That I’m a lucky lucky Princess.” Chloe murmured seconds before kissing her again, finding new angles and new sensations as soft lips slid across her own. “Thank the Universe for your rule, Becs.”

“Third times the charm for the win.” Beca laughed and pulled her in once more.

 ~E~

 Emily looked down, ready to share her enthusiasm for the fireworks with her friends and saw Beca and Chloe kissing. It was chaste, merely a pressing of lips, but Emily saw the way their hands curled into each other’s shirt, tugging them closer. It made her heart swell with happiness even as a tiny, purely reflexive ‘gross’ floated through her mind.

She turned to make sure Stacie had noticed so they could appropriately tease Beca about it on the ride home but stopped short when Stacie and Aubrey were doing the same. Except much less chaste. Emily felt her nose wrinkle with her grin as this time she said it out loud, though it was lost in the boom of the overhead explosions. “Gross.”

Emily looked skyward again, more than happy for her friends. It occurred to her that most people would be annoyed or lonely, feeling like a fifth wheel. But she didn’t. How could she when she was surrounded by affection and the promise of new love? Besides, she knew that one day her own prince would come.

“Excuse me.” The voice was barely audible, even somewhat shouted as it was, and a hand tapped her shoulder. “Emily?”

Turning, she saw a face that was a bit familiar with kind eyes framed by short brown hair. “Hi?” She tilted her head, trying to place where she might have known him from. “Do I…?”

He awkwardly touched his chest. “Prince Eric.” He gave as elaborate a bow as possible in the crowd of people. “Hi. Benjamin Applebaum, at your service. But you can call me Benji.” He held out his hand and Emily blushed faintly. This time when she took his hand, he only shook it firmly. “It’s great to finally introduce myself properly.”

Emily smiled shyly. “Hi, Benji.” A particularly loud explosion overhead brought her eyes up from his kind smile. “Wow that was amazing!” She watched colors streak the sky before looking back down. “I actually saw you today.”

“You did?” He stepped a bit closer so they didn’t have to shout as loudly.

“Yeah, you were dancing with some kids.” Emily smiled again. “You were really good with them.” He was so charming and the kids had obviously loved him.

“That’s how I got the job. I don’t quite look like Eric, but I can sing and I love kids, so they gave me a trial. That was three years ago.” Benji smiled.

“Well, I’m glad they did.” Anything else Emily might have said was cut off when Chloe noticed the new arrival.

“Benji!” She rushed over and threw her arms around him. “I’m so glad you could make it!” She stepped back. “This is Beca!”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Benji said with an easy grin. “Nice to finally have a name to put with the face.”

Beca held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Stacie.” A long arm snaked over Emily’s shoulder as Stacie shook his hand next. “Hope you don’t mind that DJ stole your Princess.”

“Clearly she was the better suitor.” Benji shook his head. “I had no chance.”

“Finale time.” Aubrey said, her arm looped around Stacie’s waist.

The six of them watched as the final fireworks of the night lit up the sky, joining the crowd around them as they ooh’d and aah’d.  Once the final flare had faded, they grouped loosely together.

“Park’s open a few more hours.” Beca said. “Anyone feel like rushing the line at Indiana Jones?”

“I’m game, but I want to drive.” Aubrey said, already tugging Stacie along beside her. “Pirates next.”

“I love Pirates!” Stacie cheered.

“That’s because you like to make out in the back of the boat.” Beca shot back as she followed Aubrey.

“Ooh, tell me more.” Aubrey looked over at Stacie.

“I’ll do one better, how about I show you?” Stacie purred and Aubrey’s grin widened.

“Then Haunted Mansion?” Emily asked as they began winding through the dispersing crowds.

“We’ll do the circuit.” Chloe said. “I love Big Thunder Mountain Railroad at night.”

“Romantic dinner with fancy wine, fireworks and roller coasters? You sure do know how to woo a girl on a first date.” Beca said teasingly. “The park looks so pretty from up there, especially at night.”

Emily smiled to herself as she took Benji’s hand, both of them stealing shy glances at each other.

Disneyland really was the happiest place on Earth.

x

[rndyounghowze]

Susan Cinoman’s “Period Piece” Draws First Blood With 36 Storytellers and 12 Performers

@periodpieceplay Gave us a wide range of stories on a topic that is usually just seen as “lady problems” @susancinoman @kcdirector

By Dana and Ricky Young-Howze

Los Angeles, California

Venmo: @rndyounghowze

Review 224

We were prepared to let this night of short plays about periods pass us by. Period Piece conceived by Susan Cinoman was a hot commodity with a rolling list of performers every night that spanned the space of three weekends. Try as we might we couldn’t get permission to the first or the third nights. Then we got an invite from Kristina Wong, one of the performers in the show, who came through for us right at the buzzer. While we didn’t get to see all three weeks we came in with certain expectations. None of those expectations came out with us after the show. This team of theatre artists led by Director Karen Carpenter went on to wow us in every single way. Let’s start from the beginning...

Better Than Elephant Dung

By: Jacquelyn Reingold

Reingold set the tone by having a super tampon to start the night. Geneva Carr is someone who has been on our radar for a bit and the way she made the character both relatable and funny was a real feat. It makes me laugh even now to think that the one thing that The Man of Steel can’t handle is the thought of period blood. It served to highlight the frailty of toxic masculinity in a fun way.

Cramps Services

By: Maria Elena Rodriguez

This was the first time we saw Kristina Wong acting in a show that wasn’t hers and it was so fun! It showed the kind of range and comedic talent that makes her one of our favorites. The play highlights the fierce dedication and technical knowledge needed to supply every person that menstruates with the products they need to just get by. This is usually a world that is invisible to the cis males of this planet. I love the way they lifted the veil. Using the backdrop of buying for craft services was genius. The hierarchy of chips to pads is something I wasn’t ready for.

Prayers To Menstruatia

By Destry Spielberg

One can often define their period by things that they can’t do. Can’t wear what you want, can’t go out where you want, the pain! It was really great to find a writer that was willing to put these things in the context of a new found freedom. Finally able to go out during the pandemic then hit by the period gods. However if feeling powerful and beautiful is embraced nothing can stop you. Destry explores the things that have been gained at the end of the pandemic and it is more than water weight.

Waiting on Womanhood

By: Ngozi Anyanwu

I really resonated with this one. Bleeding must mean death. If it doesn’t you must at least be punished in some way by the patriarchal system. The part I really resonate with is that being a woman means being watched with all these eyes on you. Candace Boahene gave us a remarkable performance that packed a lot of heart into a very small space. Ngozi created a scene that gave us the perspective of another culture in the capsule of a young student wondering about the future. Growing up could prevent her from doing and being all this young girl could be. It was important to put in to context periods globally.

Day 22

By Rhiana Yazzie

Kimberly Guerrero is very funny yet very frank in this piece. Not many people see their period as their friend. For some people it may be their oldest friend. No matter what you think you definitely do notice when it’s missing. Thanks to Yazzie for shining a light on how hyper aware people who menstruate are about any and all things period.

Way More Scary

By: Nicole Lynn Evans

Add this to one of the subjects that we didn’t think were going to be covered during the evening. Ricky’s mom is in a chair and was raised to be very proactive and proud about periods. This was very familiar and very cathartic and honest. Nicole Lynn Evans spared nothing from her straight and to the point take on the issue. When we talk equality and rights our disabled people often get left behind. Periods add another layer to that. We need to be open and honest about periods and disability to make change.

Zooey Deschanel Wants To Save The Cows, And I Want To Know Why My Abdomen Hurts

By: Jaimie Jarrett

We loved seeing a trans period moment. Jaimie Jarrett was killing us with lines like “trans is just a fun way to misspell trauma”. As two beings that fall under the trans umbrella we really appreciated it. In fact we were really expecting a lot of “bleeding equals female” in the night. I’m so happy that this show went out there and got the perspective of all people who menstruate and talked about the PTSD and the physical and mental toll dealing with this can have on them, on us.

Glorify! (the messy parts)

By: Christina Anderson

Sometimes plays need to bring up chicken dung to get their story across. Adriane Lenox took us wonderfully from rescuing a wedding dress from period blood (that’s a horror story and a half) to bringing us a charming story about throwing crap. We love seeing Black female professionals onstage and we are so grateful to have seen her.

A Really Good Lubricant

By Lally Katz

Now all of us know that sex and periods are fabled far and wide to be mutually exclusive. Others think you have to make a mess to make it any fun. Carissa Kosta sold this monologue of a woman walking that knife edge of not wanting to disappoint a potential lover but also really wanting him to leave. The part that gave Ricky chills up their spine was Kosta saying “thank God” at the end. The last thirty seconds of the play told the entire story. It was really one of the strongest of the night.

Flash Of An Eye

By Elaine Romero

Ricky has known some gymnasts and thinks that they are the most serious athletes alive. Carmen Carrera struck all of the notes you get from a gymnastics coach: dead serious, brutally honest, but also supportive. Romero painted us a great picture of a world that showed us the dark side of what most people call a dainty world. Stuff like using Tampons to keep uniforms clean, describing the massive changes going on in young athlete’s bodies, and even addressing the superstitions of their parents show that this is a different and crazy world than what we see on ESPN.

Interview With A Punk Goddess

(A fable 4 bloody sisters everywhere)

By Caridad Svich

I had no idea what a punk goddess is before but now I’m wondering where I can sign up. Caridad Svich made being a bloody beautiful monster seem so cool! Lauren Patten nailed the piece. You have a woman in a job interview which should be one of the worst places to get a period. Instead she flips the script and becomes a powerful being who tells people what she wants and that they’re going to give it. Amazing writing.

All The Shades Of Red: 13, 35, 45, 46

By Sarah Ruhl

We can’t even begin to tell you anything about miscarriages. We don’t even have the vocabulary and the language to talk about it. Sarah Ruhl pulled back the curtain on this dark and intimate world. Jessica Hecht was the perfect person to act as our handhold through the different moments of a life and how periods fell into it. Sarah Ruhl showed how our lives can be marked by these weird red milestones, the toll they can take on us, and how we look on the other side.

It’s a shame that we still need to have a feminist equality conversation around how humans bleed. That fact that this is a touchy subject for some, intimately personal for others, and a thing to be reviled by the patriarchy in the twenty-first century is atrocious. We’re so glad that these artists came together as one to address all the different intricacies around this issue. Every piece of this night was unique and different. In our experience it has been rare where we see a showcase with each piece centered around a theme and it does not hit the same monotone note every time. I was expecting a lot of “I am bleeding hear me roar” but it wasn’t that. In fact it hit a lot of different notes. We were so afraid that it would not encompass the whole spectrum of people who menstruate and it did. We were so shocked and relieved. Here’s to a show about periods and blood exceeding our expectations.

Check the Project Out For Yourself Here

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[80068mimiwang]

Mari Katayama – the gift of a universal body

Mari Katayama was born with tibial hemimelia and, at the age of 9, chose to have her legs amputated. She uses many handmade objets d’art in her art, many of which are modelled after various body parts.

Artist Mari Katayama has stunned viewers all over the world with her freshly unique and bold cross-media works, appearing in shows such as the Aichi Triennale 2013 and  Roppongi Crossing 2016. Her mark on the modern art world earnt her a nomination for the Ihei Kimura Award in 2018. She exhibited an experimental body of work curated by artistic director Ralph Rugoff at the Venice Biennale in 2019 and won the Newcomer’s Award at the 35th Higashikawa International Photo Festival. Katayama has also announced, for this spring, a collection of her work thus far presented in a photobook, “GIFT”. Today, we have to opportunity to listen to her speak candidly about facing her circumstances head-on, and her idea of a universal body.

—What does your new photobook mean to you?

Katayama:           If my life so far were a sentence, this book would be its full stop. It’s a nice way round up all the work I’ve done during this time. (laughs)

—I hear that the title, “GIFT” has a double meaning. Could you tell us more about that?

Katayama:           There’s one work in particular that’s symbolic of this title, and it’s this heart-shaped objet d’art into which I’ve incorporated photographs of fingers. I printed photos of husband’s and my fingers onto fabric and made this objet d’art in the three months after giving birth. I think every woman who has experienced pregnancy realises that nothing is what it seems. Before we have a child, we just let the days go by without questioning the way that it is but now that there’s a child with us we have to look after it and worry for it.

During the pregnancy, it was fine if the baby didn’t have any fingers or feet. That’s just how things are, you know. But after I gave birth, I just had to check with the doctor straight away. I asked, “Does my baby have her fingers and feet?” I wanted my child to be born in perfectly good health, and part of me couldn’t stop worrying and thinking “but what if?” If worst came to worst, I’d want to have something to give to my daughter. Everyone is missing something, you know, but if my daughter felt bad for it I’d want her to know that she has the power to make up for whatever it is. I put all of those feelings that I felt as a parent into this objet d’art when I was making it.

However, after the exhibition I was showing it in ended, I looked at it with a new, calmer mindset. I thought to myself, “What would she even do with this?!” (laughs) She’d probably come to me all confused like, “Mum, what do I do with this?” It reminded me of how “gift” can also mean “poison” in German. Because poison is something you get given. It’s such a German way of thinking. The “gift” that I give my daughter for her sake might not even be to her liking. Realising that was a bit of a hard pill to swallow, so that’s why I chose “GIFT” as the title for my photobook.

—So with “GIFT” is the theme running throughout the book. Look back on your past work, what do you feel is particularly “gift”-like about it?

Katayama:           As I am now, I no longer think of my past work as my cute little darlings like I did in the past. Although I am still the same human being, I feel that past me and present me are separate entities. Those works from my past self could even be “poison” to my present self. I’m sure my past self meant for those works to be a gift to my present self, but right now she finds them quite troublesome. (laughs) I am trying to accept them as best as I can, however.

—You have such a diverse way of realising your ideas in your art. Is photography particularly special to you?

Katayama:           No, not particularly. All the work I’ve done so far were installations that incorporated both objets d’art and photography. Now that I’m releasing a photobook, the people who know what I do like to joke “oh, so you’re a photographer now, huh?” (laughs) I never had any professionals watch over me and teach me crafting or photography. I had some help getting my start but most of it has been self-taught. I also sing chanson sometimes, but even that I learnt from a jazz bar I used to work at. So photography isn’t particularly special to me or anything. I never introduce myself as a photographer, but “Hi, I’m an artist who dabbles in a lot of stuff” is too long.

—Could you tell us about how you got into making objets d’art?

Katayama:           I think a big part of it can be attributed to my family members, who I’ve watched sew all my life. My great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother all sewed. I was clubfooted until the age of 9 so I couldn’t wear any ready-made children’s clothes, and my mother dressed me with her own clothes that she had altered to fit me. I used to always watch her alter these clothes and naturally I grew to want to sew, too. And still do now, of course, but I don’t think my mother likes my work very much. She’s always fussing over how rough and unprofessional the finishing is. (laughs)

—What made you want to release a photobook?

Katayama:           For my installation at Roppongi Crossing 2016, I displayed every single objet d’art that I had. And because I did that, I feel like I was able to more wholeheartedly dedicate myself to photography. I then made three series of photographic works, found out I was pregnant, and my workflow and pace started to change and I was able to have more time to myself. I also started to wonder about the works I had let go of and what would become of them, and at that time someone mentioned something about a photobook. I thought that it would be a great chance for me to put them all together in one place and send them out on a new journey into the world.

—And you’ve got the works organised by the year they were made in, right?

Katayama:           My oldest work was from when I was still in university. It was just a self portrait and I never really thought of it as a work of art back then.

I also used to draw and make objets d’art a lot back in high school, but I didn’t really think much of it back then. I started to want to show it to other people so I started uploading pictures of them onto social media like Myspace and Mixi. Shortly after, a stylist called Tatsuya Shimada asked if I would model in a fashion show with him. I accepted and had these drawing done on my artificial leg for that show. I was also encouraged to enter the Gunma Youth Biennale, and I also won an award there. I thought that just photographing my artificial leg by itself would be sort of confusing for viewers so I tried to take photos with it on, in a way that would explain to viewers what it was at the same time, and I ended up with these self portraits.

—Oh wow! So your start in photography was through social media? So you would’ve started using it around 2005. That’s quite early.

Katayama:           My dad works in data processing so I got to familiarise myself with the internet quite early on. I made my first website using HTML when I was 15, and I still use it. That’s why it looks kind of outdated. (laughs) I went to a commercial high school because I wanted to get into IT. I never thought I would end up going to art school and becoming an artist.

—When did you start consciously taking self-portraits?

Katayama:           To be honest, I still don’t call those photos self-portraits. It feels just as weird as calling myself a photographer, because the person in those portraits isn’t me. I just happen to be the only model that will do whatever I say and pose in the exact way I want.

Communicating with someone that isn’t me will always require verbal communication, and no matter how much understanding we can mutually reach it will never be exactly as I want. There’s always going to be a gap between what I want and how the model interprets it. The only time I became aware that I was taking a self portrait was when I was taking pictures of myself when I was pregnant, because that was when I specifically wanted to leave a photographic record of how I was in that moment.

—After your 2014 work you’re mine, you started to move from photographing inside your own house to outdoors. At the same time, you started doing more of your work in Gunma, right?

Katayama:           I had my first solo gallery exhibition at TRAUMARIS | SPACE. Along with you’re mine, I also exhibited an objet d’art made of plaster in the shape of my own body. I went to my parent’s house once when I was making that work. Working with all that plaster was a lot of work and I needed a proper space to do it in, so I decided to make it where my parents were living, in Ota City, Gunma.

At that time, the new gallery in Maebashi City, Arts Maebashi, started a new project called Artist in Residence (AIR) and invited me to be their first resident artist. From October 2014 and February 2015 I stayed there for 55 days over the course of three months and made work there. I often take off my artificial leg so I can focus on my work so until I was invited to do AIR I was only able to make work at home. I was a bit worried but the people I met at Maebashi made me feel at home. We became friends that would go drinking every night and they really helped me out a lot, and we created a lot of photographs during that residence. It was then that I realised that perhaps them most important thing for an artist was a space in which they feel comfortable creating their work in. Then, in 2015, I returned to Ota City, where I was born and raised.

I now live in Isesaki City. There’s nothing here but farmland, but I find it quite interesting. There are cows being raised here not for their meat or milk, but to make fertiliser. They just eat, sleep, poop, eat again, and repeat day after day on this huge farm. It makes me kind of emotional. (laughs) When you’re driving around Isesaki you can see all these huge sago palms on the side of the road and the interesting plants people are growing in their gardens. Although I say that there’s nothing out here in the country side, you can flip that around and say that there is a lot of something here, and that’s space. When there’s this much space, people are going to use it, and I like to see what they do with it.

—You mentioned that the photobook was a way of marking an end of an era for your work, so what do you plan on doing moving forward?

Katayama:           I feel like I have a lot more freedom now. I’ve been in the art world for 10 years now, and by meeting more and more people I feel more and more potential in myself. I only dabbled in photography a bit in the past but now I’m making more conscious efforts to take photos, and I think that this is a big change for me. In the past six months I’ve gone out and taken a lot of landscape photos in Michigan in the US and the Watarasegawa area around my home.

—Why the switch to landscape photography?

Katayama:           I’m more interested in photographing the people within the landscape rather than the landscape itself. Environments we call “natural” usually always has some sort of manmade element in it. Thinking of landscapes as something people made for themselves makes me appreciate them more. I love to think about how a place was formed and what kind of people inhabited it. But that doesn’t mean that I want to specifically photograph people going about their day to day lives. It sounds kind of contradictory when I say that after saying I want to photograph human activity, but I plan to explore this further in a future body of work.

—Would you say a landscape being formed by the acts of humans is similar to how you expressed that you as an artist was formed by the people you’ve met?

Katayama:           I think yes, and no. Thinking back on my life, I don’t think I’ve achieved anything according to my own will and desire. I tried my best in school and in job hunting because I was expected to, but that was it.

—So you feel like the effort you’ve put in and the results you’ve gotten are very disconnected from your own desire?

Katayama:           I feel like what I’m disconnected from is this notion of “normal”. What I wish for isn’t particularly hard to achieve but it somehow keeps eluding me. The harder I try and reach for it the further it gets, and what I end up grabbing is something else entirely. It’s gotten me down a lot in the past but now I see this as another one of life’s little surprises. I’ve slowly come to accept that I can’t become what is “normal”, and that’s fine.

When I’m choosing clothes for my child I like to pick something that’s a little different from what I see around us, but then my friends say to me “why did you pick that?” (laughs). Even for the clothes I pick for myself! All my life I’ve been fighting with wanting to be “normal” but knowing deep down that I can’t, but now that I’ve accepted that I will never be “normal” I’m looking forward to what will unfold in my life. I have no idea what���s going to happen but it’s exciting.

—You speak about yourself like you’re speaking about another person.

Katayama:           I think I do tend to, yeah. I feel like I’m observing this Mari Katayama person all the time and think “maybe I should’ve laughed here” or “maybe I should act happy here”.

—You seem to be very aware of and sensitive where you stand in society.

Katayama:           Yes, I often think about how I could just try and blend into the “normal” of society and live like that but it won’t ever feel right, and I feel like part of that is due to how my body feels. Sort of like how left-handed people will always feel a bit left out in a right-handed society. If you’re different in some way, how you feel towards society and how people act towards you will also differ greatly, and I think that’s interesting.

Of course that doesn’t mean you should just be happy about your circumstances, but I’m lucky in the way that because I have a body and sense that’s different from “normal” I notice things and make connections between things that other people don’t. And because of that, I was able to make a lot of great friends. Ms. Kazue Kobata told me that I have a very universal body because I’m able to experience so many different things in this way, and I love that. I’m able to surpass the boundaries of language, gender, and culture to connect with others not because of my disability per se, but because of how my body was built. Ms. Kobata taught me that this is what it means to be different from other people.

—Normality and common sense are what connect people, but on the other hand it also carries the risk of dividing them. But when you know you are different from someone, you pre-emptively try to avoid that divide. When you realise that you are different from someone, you know to not judge them according to your common sense so now you’re less likely to accidentally offend them.

Katayama:           Exactly, and I think that’s how we’re able to connect. And you’re able to also realise that even if someone seems like they’re living a normal life on the outside, they probably have their own unique story or circumstances even if it’s not visible in “normal” society. I hope that whenever someone meets me and gets to know about my circumstances, they can realise that there are many different perspectives to the society we all live in and that every perspective is worth knowing about.

I did seriously consider becoming a public servant once upon a time, before I happened to fall into the career of an artist. I thought someone with my life experience would be great in Residential Affairs at the Town Hall. I still wonder why I still ended up pursuing something different to what I wanted, but even though I didn’t become the person I wanted to I think that’s ok. Where I would be making one-on-one contact as a residential affairs officer, I would be reaching out to a wider and farther audience as an artist. Reaching out to many other people is part of an artist’s job, and I believe that this is the mission I’ve been given.

Reference: Wakayama, M. 2019, ‘Katayama Mari intabyuu yunibaasaru na shintai to iu GIFT’, weblog, IMA, viewed 31 May 2020, <https://imaonline.jp/articles/interview/20190819mari-katayama/#page-1>.

[chipsandwaffles]

Best Friend?

Yuta fucking likes you.

Anon said: Could you write a imagine about a "bad boy" yuta realising he is in love with his sweet and shy best friend as they enter their final years of high school or just in college in general? I hope that's not too cliche. I'm sorry if it is!!

Anon said: Can I get Yuta fluff? I noticed no one is requested for him >< poor my bb! Yuta and the girl always fight and annoyed each other a lot but they began to love each other and felt empty without one of them. So in the end he confessed to her. Thx you ❤

hOPEFULLY this satisfies both these requests. this is 3k i can’t believe this it’s ridiculous. also. these are legit some of the oldest requests in my inbox like bless they’re finally out of here. i hope you enjoy ^^

For some reason, your best friend, your best friend who has called you unpretty and too lame to look at will not stop looking at you.

You’ll be looking around the cafeteria, minding your own business with your group of friends when you see him just staring at you, his head in his hand with a dumb smile on his face. Sometimes you’ll be hanging outside by yourself and he’s looking at you from the soccer field. One time he got hit with a soccer ball. That was funny as hell. Other times you’ll pass him when he’s sitting at his locker and talk for a quick second, about what you’d do after school and what not together and he wouldn’t look away from you when he used to do it all the time.

You don’t even see each other at school often, hanging out with your own group of friends. You hang with “nerds” as Yuta calls them and he hangs out with his own group of people, his “rebel” group as he likes to say or the skip class twice a week kids as everyone knows.

And yet, somehow he keeps finding you and keeps looking at you. You swear this never happened before.

Or, maybe you weren’t paying attention. Maybe he had been staring at you all along. You wonder why though, since he has openly called you unpretty. He makes fun of you, you make fun of him. That was your dynamic as best friends. It had been like that since you were kids.

Now he was kind of different. Staring at you, buying you food as you walked home from school, waking up to good morning texts from him.

Who was this guy, and what did he do with your best friend?

“Y/N, are you even listening?” You blink a few times and lift your head from where it was laying on your arm on the table, staring back at Yuta. He frowns at you, rolling his eyes.

“That’s definitely a no,” he says.

“Sorry I was… thinking about other stuff. What were you saying?” You ask. He shakes his head and goes back to doodling on the notebook you’ve provided him as you study for your finals. He wasn’t going to study of course. He was too cool for that.

“I was studying for my calculus final, you expect me to listen to whatever crap you have to say about Taeyong today?”

Yuta scoffs at you and reaches across the table, pinching one of your cheeks and shaking your head a little. You whine, swatting his hand away and rubbing the place he had pinched.

“It wasn’t about Taeyong, you punk.”

“Oh, sorry, Jaehyun then.”

“You’re a brat,” he says, sitting back and crossing his arms.

“And yet you’re the one who’s been my best friend for like… eleven years.”

“Thirteen years. You can’t even remember how long we’ve been friends?” Yuta actually looks offended, and you laugh at his expression. He needed to stop it with this weird stuff. He had to go back to cocky Yuta and the mean guy you knew.

“Honestly I was hoping it would end already.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate you too, best friend,” you say, laughing when Yuta gets up, knocking his chair over in the process. You watch him walk over to the couch in the living room, plopping down and turning on the T.V. You go back to studying, or, pretending to study.

Your thoughts were back on Yuta and his attitude recently. Certain thoughts crossed your mind, wondering what could have caused it. Maybe he was thinking about finals and graduating this year, or maybe he was thinking about what school to go to next year, or maybe he was stressed about something and couldn’t find the words to tell you about it. Which in turn made him constantly look your way.

But, one of the things that keeps coming back to you is that Yuta likes you, and not as a best friend. When Yuta liked someone, he would buy them things, shower them in affection and candy, because according to Yuta “that’s what girls liked.” And, that’s what he had done with you. He had been showering you with affection lately, wrapping his arm around your waist as you walked together, kissing the side of your head randomly when he was saying goodbye. He’d buy you food and candy on the way home, and he’d be nice enough to send you good morning texts. He never did that before.

You stare down at the textbook in front of you for a long moment, trying to wrap your head around that your best friend of thirteen years might like you more than a best friend. You look up at Yuta, only to see him looking at you. When you make eye contact he immediately looks away, pretending he wasn’t just staring at you.

The thought clicks in your head and holy fuck.

Yuta totally liked you.

-

“You think Yuta likes you?” You nod your head at your friend, the one you went to when you couldn’t go to Yuta. She frowns at you, shaking her head.

“No way. He was going after like, three other girls last week. He doesn’t like you.”

“Then explain all that stuff-

“He’s… an idiot? I don’t know. I mean- if he liked you, wouldn’t he say something by now?” She asks.

“Would he? Remember that time he was mad at me for eating the snack in his backpack and wouldn’t talk to me for almost two weeks?”

You friend’s expression changes into one of judgement just thinking about the incident before she rolls her eyes. “He totally likes you. That idiot likes you.”

“Come on, he’s not that stupid-

“Don’t even get me started,” your friend interrupts. “How do you feel though? Do you like him?”

“You know the answer to that,” you say, your face heating up in embarrassment just thinking about your feelings for Yuta.

“I know. I just like reminding you that you’re in love with an idiot.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes at her and she laughs at you, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

“Shut up, oh my god. You’re the one that’s got a crush on Doyoung-

“He’s cute and funny-

“He’s in love with school which means he’s not going to date you-

“Excuse me!” You and your friend look over to the librarian who doesn’t look pleased at all at your behavior in the library. She makes a motion of zipping her lips and you both apologize, lowering your voices as to not bother her again.

“First of all, Doyoung is totally going to date me, second of all, you should talk to Yuta,” your friend tells you. You shake your head.

“No way. I have finals to worry about. I don’t want to stress over Yuta.”

“Then… after finals?” Your friend grins at you, and you agree to it just to get her to shut up.

“Yeah, fine. After finals.”

-

For the two weeks before finals and during finals, you avoid Yuta. Not because you want to avoid him, but just so you don’t get distracted by thinking about his feelings for you. You really needed to get good final grades in your classes, and having him around just wasn’t going to help with that. Instead, you spend a lot of your time hanging around Doyoung, because Doyoung keeps quiet while he’s studying and you study well together.

And, according to your friend it benefits her because then she can figure out how to win Doyoung’s heart. Which, makes you laugh because after asking Doyoung once about it the feeling is mutual, he’s just waiting until graduation to say anything.

You don’t tell your friend that though. She could suffer a little not knowing that Doyoung liked her back.

“Y/N.” You look up from your notebook at Doyoung, an expression of distaste written all over his face.

“Huh? What’s wrong? Am I shaking the table again? Sorry, I didn’t-

“No. It’s…” Doyoung gestures for you to lean closer across the table, and you do, giving him your ear as he whispers to you. “Yuta is glaring at us from the other table- don’t look!”

You sit back in your chair and stare at Doyoung, frowning.

“Why is he in the library? He hates coming into the library.” You’re asking it more to yourself than to Doyoung, but he answers it anyways.

“Why would I know? I don’t keep track of Yuta.”

“That was rhetorical-

“Oh my god, he’s making that motion of cutting my throat. What is his problem?” You can’t just not look at Yuta now, so you turn in your seat and find him, his face falling when he sees you looking at him. With him is Jaehyun and Taeyong, and they both laugh at him when he stands up and rushes out of the library.

“What the heck?”

“I can’t believe he’s your best friend,” you hear Doyoung say. You turn back to him, confused more than ever.

“He’s been acting so fricking weird lately.”

“Yeah, go on,” Doyoung says.

“Oh my god, he’s been giving me lots of affection lately and buying me things and-

Doyoung puts up a hand to stop your talking, shaking his head. “Y/N, I was being sarcastic. I don’t want to hear about your problems with Yuta. I want to continue studying.”

“…I can see why she likes you,” you mumble. Doyoung’s face lights up in shyness, a blush dusting his cheeks. It’s gross that just one mention of your friend gets him to be that happy.

For a short moment, you wonder if that happens to Yuta when someone mentions you.

You hope it does.

-

When you get to your locker at the end of the school day, ready to pull out your books that you need for studying, you notice Yuta standing right next to it. He doesn’t look very happy, and you hurry over to him, wondering what has made him upset. Your best friend couldn’t be unhappy. That wasn’t okay.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask when you’re close enough to grab at him in some way. Your hand latches onto his and squeezes it to get his attention. He looks at you, only for a second before he’s pulling you into a tight hug, nearly lifting you off your feet.

You’re not sure what to do, because Yuta didn’t really do this kind of stuff, especially not in school of all places. You just let him hold you, your arms eventually coming to wrap around him as well, moving your hand up and down to comfort him.

If your best friend needed you, he was going to have you.

Sooner or later, Yuta lets you grab your things from your locker and then you’re heading out of school, his hand in yours, and walking a little too close for friends to be doing. You don’t mind, really, you just want to know what’s made him upset.

As you walk, you hope maybe he’ll tell you. And if not, at least he’ll do it when you get to your house. You glance at him from time to time, seeing if maybe he was crying or still looking unhappy, but he looks more content than anything. You’re glad. That was far better than unhappy Yuta.

You don’t force him for any words though until you’re home, sitting on the couch together, Yuta pressed against your side and his hand still in yours as you watch a movie together. Studying could wait.

“Yuta?” You speak up.

“Hm?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask.

He shakes his head and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“After finals. I’ll tell you then.”

You don’t say anything more, nodding your head and focusing back on the movie.

You couldn’t wait for finals to come and go fast enough.

-

You take a step out of your last class of the day, breathing a well needed sigh of relief because finals were over. You were done. You had finished your other five exams throughout the week, waiting for today to finally come. Today, you were done. You were confident that you passed all your exams and had good final grades, and now, heading down the hall to your locker, you were confident in what was going to happen with your best friend.

You were going to confront him on how he felt, and he was going to tell you what was up with him last week. It was going to be great. Everything was going to work out for you.

You walk excitedly, nearly beaming when you see Yuta standing at your locker, staring down at his phone, waiting for you.

“Yuta!” He looks up from his phone when he hears you and smiles that beautiful, signature healing smile that always made you light up. You smiled back as you finally came to stand in front of him, bouncing around a little in excitement.

“Finished my finals. Do you think you did well?” You ask him. He shrugs and that smile he had is already gone, turned into a similar look he had the week before. You frown in turn, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt.

“Yuta? What’s wrong?” He lets out a sigh.

“We need to talk.”

“This is about last week, right? Okay, go ahead then. I’m listening.”

Yuta looks around for a moment, probably checking if anyone was listening in on your conversation before he’s grabbing your hand, dragging you off into one of the secluded corners of the school. You let him drag you, seeing as this was clearly important to him. You weren’t going to question it for now.

When Yuta stops, he turns to you, letting out a heavy breath.

“I think we should stop being best friends.”

“Huh?”

You take back not questioning Yuta. He didn’t want to be best friends anymore? After thirteen years together? What caused that? Was it something you did?

No, it wasn’t you. Usually Yuta did something. What did he do then?

“I know you heard me, Y/N. I can’t be best friends with you anymore,” he says.

“Why not?”

“Because I…” Yuta pauses, taking one of your hands into his. “I like you more than a friend. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you but… I already know you don’t feel the same way and I don’t know if I can continue on with being just your friend.”

You squint at Yuta in confusion, tilting your head slightly. He was in love with you, that was confirmed. That was fine. But, he thought you didn’t feel the same way? You’re confused on what gave him that impression. And why wouldn’t he just ask you how you felt?

“What do you mean I don’t feel the same way? Shouldn’t you ask me-

“I already know you and Doyoung are dating. Thanks for telling me, by the way, not like best friends are supposed to tell-

“Okay, Yuta. First of all, stop talking.” You put a finger to Yuta’s mouth, effectively shutting him up while you start laughing.

He thought you and Doyoung were dating? Seriously? Your best friend really was an idiot!

“Why are you laughing?” He asks, pulling away and crossing his arms in clear annoyance. You wanted to stop, but, how could you? You were never exactly obvious with your interest in Yuta, but, you’re pretty sure you showed even less interest in Doyoung.

Besides, you already were set on liking your friend and Doyoung together anyways. So, liking Doyoung was never going to happen.

“Doyoung and I aren’t dating! Where did you get that idea?” You ask, laughter still spilling out of you.

“You- you’ve been so close lately and weren’t hanging out with me I thought-

“We were studying! You’re the worst to study with, Yuta. Doyoung is like, studying with a clone of myself. You’re just distracting when I’m studying so that’s why I wasn’t really hanging out with you. Not because I was dating Doyoung.”

“Okay, maybe I should’ve asked about it-

“You think?” You laugh at Yuta again and he shoves at your shoulder, now pouting.

“I hate you,” he says. You shove back at him.

“Um, no. Pretty sure just a minute ago you said you were in love with me so…”

Yuta goes silent, and you notice the faintest blush on his cheeks. It was adorable. All you could think about was wanting to kiss him, but, you still had to get your own feelings out.

“Hey, stupid,” you say, hitting Yuta again. “If you’re going to stop being my best friend, can you start being my boyfriend then?”

Yuta looks at you, surprise written all over his face before he breaks out into a smile.

“You- you like me?”

You nod your head, smiling yourself. “I think that’s why I want you to be my boyfriend. You know, because I like you.”

“You like me. Not Doyoung?” You nod again, grabbing at Yuta’s hand and swinging it back and forth.

“Yes, Yuta. I like you. Youuuu. Nakamoto Yuta.”

Yuta can’t stop smiling the entire time that you walk to your locker, take out everything you have to and then walk home. He won’t let go of your hand, he buys you something to eat on the way home, and then, when you’re at your front door, he kisses you.

It’s so unexpected that you push him away, and even then he still doesn’t stop smiling.

It makes you think of Doyoung in the library, and how when he heard about your friend liking him, he was smiling. Yuta was smiling so big because of you, because he was happy you liked him back and that now you were going to be together.

Yuta being happy because of you makes you smile and you ultimately give him a kiss on the cheek before he leaves. You wave him goodbye and as you watch his figure retreat into the distance, you can’t help but hope you and him were going to be happy together for a long time.

[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #171 - X-Men: First Class

Spoilers Below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: Yes.

Was it a movie I saw since August 22nd, 2009: Yes. #104

Format: Blu-ray

1) Poland, 1944

This film hemmed so close to the opening scene of the original X-Men film that producer Bryan Singer thought he was actually looking at the old footage. It is a smart and effective opening to the prequel, as it not only re-establishes a character who has been absent from the series for five years but also sets up his key conflict with the film. Erik is still dealing with the pain from this event in a much more key way than he is during Ian McKellen’s tenure; what he went through in the concentration camp is the driving motivation behind his actions in the film. Making this first scene all the better.

2) Young Charles & Raven.

Raven [upon first meeting Charles]: “You’re not scared of me?”

The adoptive brother/sister relationship between Charles and Raven might be totally invented for this film (as in: has no source in comic book canon which I am aware of) but I freaking love it. I’m a sucker for platonic male/female relationships and the connection these two have is in a lot of ways the beating heart of this film. Which makes it all the more tragic that they drift apart in the future (something I’m hoping will be remedied in X-Men: Dark Phoenix). The key to their relationship is that they feel safe around each other. This is the first time that either of them has realized they’re not truly alone in the world. That someone hasn’t pushed Raven away for her natural form and that Charles realizes his ability to read minds does not make him a freak. There’s a sense of ease, comfort, and community they have with each other that was totally foreign to them up until that moment. A strong foundation to a strong relationship.

3) Kevin Bacon as Sebastian Shaw.

Bacon’s Shaw was all but glossed over in most promotional materials, making his presence in the film a pleasant surprise for first time viewers. And pleasant it is because Shaw is an absolutely wonderful villain. Bacon brings a refreshing and engaging amount of charisma/fun to the part. He’s the bad guy you love to hate with a little bit of Bond villain in him. The first thing he does when we meet him in murder Erik’s mother in front of her 12ish year old son. And then he reacts with unadulterated GLEE when that murder allows Erik to tap into his mutant powers. He’s downright giddy! In a series filled with classic bad guys like Magneto and William Stryker, Shaw is able to hold up with the best of them.

Shaw [after murdering Erik’s mom]: “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

4) James McAvoy as Charles Xavier.

McAvoy’s Xavier is delightfully more flawed than Stewart’s. He is much more of a cad. He is more arrogant, a bit more green, a bit more cocky, and a lot more naive. BUT he’s not just that. He’s not some douche bag who learns to be a great man. You see the greatness in him still. He is still Charles Xavier after all. When things get serious, he gets serious. He lets Moira know how important this is to him, he has hope for the future of his people and he is able to put away the womanizer we meet early on when it comes to helping people. There’s still that naivety a little but, the belief that everything will be alright after they save the world. That fear will just stop. But it’s mixed in with Xavier’s trademark hope. McAvoy is great as the character and a joy to watch.

5) Jennifer Lawrence as Raven/Mystique.

Raven is in a much different place than Rebecca Romijn’s Mystique was in the original X-Men trilogy and it’s a lot of fun to watch. There is this humor and warmth to the character that we don’t often get to see. A smile, a playfulness with Charles, but we see her develop into the more jaded warrior of Magneto’s crew. Watching that transformation is great and heartbreaking, especially as it shakes up her relationship with adopted brother Xavier. And Lawrence is great in the part. A pre Hunger Games role, I think it’s one of my favorites that she has under her belt. Many of her characters are so serious and dower these days when the actress has a wonderful heart/sense of humor she gets to show off her. It’s lost in the future installments, but that makes sense considering the path the character goes down. It’s a tragedy, but one that’s good to watch.

6) Oh Charles...

Raven: “Would you date me?”

Charles: “Of course I would. Any man would be lucky to have you, you are stunning.”

Raven: “Looking like this?”

[Charles stutters for a second then looks at Raven.]

Charles: “Blue? [Beat.] You’re my oldest friend...I’m incapable of thinking of you that way. I feel responsible for you.”

He changes from, “oh absolutely,” to, “I could never think of you like that,” REALLY fast when he realizes she’s talking about her natural form. And that’s where his naivety comes into play. He doesn’t understand what it’s like hiding who you really are in such a basic and obvious way. Not telling someone you can read their minds is fundamentally harder than having to wear a skin that isn’t your’s because you think people will reject your natural form. And that’s the key to her conflict in this film. Being mutant and proud.

7) McAvoy and Lawrence have such a wonderful natural chemistry as adopted brother & sister, must obvious in the scene above when Raven asks Charles if he’d date her. Her snuggling up to her brother while he reads her his thesis makes my heart melt.

8) Michael Fassbender as Erik/Magneto.

Honestly the casting of Erik & Charles could have been royally screwed up. This film does it perfectly. Fassbender brings a single determination and focus to his character. He is ruthless, brutal, violent, intimidating, but you still sympathize with him. Hell, you are ROOTING for him. In a lot of ways he’s even more sympathetic than Charles is. Fassbender is able to play the pain Erik has been though with much more relevance than McKellen ever got the chance to because the story allows it. He is in anger mode, with a bit of self loathing (he is what he is because a man murdered his mother, in his mind) but more with a taste for vengeance.  Fassbender is absolutely beautiful in the part and I wouldn’t ask for a different actor to play him.

9) Of course within one minute of meeting Rose Byrne’s character she is strips into her underwear because, hey, sexy women get objectified in film!

(GIF originally posted by @chirrutimwae)

Yes, I understand that the Hellfire club is like a sexy lingerie strip club thing. Yes I understand that Moira is a determined CIA agent who will do her job no matter what. And yes this is the only time Moira does this and she’s actually a pretty great character. But you know what? The Hellfire club did not NEED to be a sexy lingerie strip club. It could’ve been some elegant hoity-toity how do you do thing. And Moira didn’t need to strip down to her lingerie at all in the film. It was not needed. It does not tell us anything about her character or the story.

Ugh, living in a post Wonder Woman world is going to be a lot harder than I thought. I mean, I wasn’t exactly blind before. But I definitely needed glasses to see through the haze which is the male gaze and now I do with Wonder Woman. And now it’s just...oh boy.

10) Rose Byrne as Moira is a solidly written character that the actress plays well. The filmmakers don’t spend much time focusing on the, “Moira in her underwear,” stuff and she turns into pretty much the best government agent in the film. She is intelligent, more focused on the job than any of her coworkers (who are dogged down by fear, bigotry, and male ego), and she forms this nice relationship with Charles which yes ends up romantic but is also more based on mutual respect. I love couples with mutual respect for each other. Rose Byrne plays the part wonderfully. I love the actress now BECAUSE I was introduced to her in this film. She is capable, strong, but not pigheaded or egotistical. She’s good at her job and she knows it so she continues to be good at her job.

11) January Jones as Emma Frost.

So I know there is a lot of hate out there for January Jones as Frost, but I don’t really mind her. But I’m not going to like strongly defend her either. I put more blame on the writing than her as she works with what she is given. Emma Frost is this badass in the comics who - yes - dresses in a VERY sexual manor (because she likes to, I believe) but she is also wonderfully complex. She usually has an intense rivalry with Jean Grey, is often romantically linked to Scott Summers, is an extremely powerful telepath, reformed bad guy who is often not so reformed, and over all fascinating read. But the filmmakers sorta just latched onto the, “sexy female bad guy with diamond skin and telepathic powers.” Which would’ve been fine is Emma had been developed a bit more but she never really goes beyond that/Shaw’s hench woman.

And again, the power of Wonder Woman has me asking: why is she dressing so sexually? I mean if there’s like a legitimate reason, like the character is more comfortable with that or confident in her body, than go for it! But a reason is never given she just does that and it seems to be for the sake of the male gaze. Which is disappointing to say the least.

12) The scene which I (and Henry Jackman’s score) refers to as Frankenstein’s Monster.

This is Erik at his most brutal. He finds those two “former” Nazis (can you ever really be a former Nazi if you’re not repenting for your sins?) in a bar and engages in conversation with them. It’s incredible tense in the most wonderful sense, because Erik is enjoying screwing with these Nazis. And then he cuts them down in the most brutal and badass way possible in a wonderful (and wonderfully simple) moment of action supported by Henry Jackman’s incredible score. I am very much enjoying any and all forms of media where Nazis are absolutely wrecked so this has is even more enjoyable now than it was in 2011.

13) The blonde Charles with looked familiar to me...

Then I realized she’s Annabelle Wallis, who is in The Mummy with Tom Cruise.

As of writing I have yet to see the new Mummy film so I don’t like or dislike this actress. Just noticed it.

14) When I first saw this it took a second to sink in.

Charles [to the CIA agent who accused him of doing a magic trick]: “No agent Stryker. Although I could tell you about your son William...”

15) Oliver Platt as the Man in Black.

I enjoy Platt’s performance in this film. He’s not your typical government stooge to keep the heroes in line. He’s like a kid at Christmas. All these years he thought the impossible wasn’t so impossible and now he has proof. And he’s super excited about that and helpful because of it. He’s just a wonderful addition to the film.

16) According to IMDb:

A telepathic battle between Professor X and Emma Frost was going to be in the film, but upon the release of Inception (2010) the concept was scrapped. This was then used in X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), between Professor X and Apocalypse.

17) So let’s consider Charles and Erik’s first encounter, shall we:

Charles jumps in to save the life of a man he doesn’t know.

Charles helps Erik to calm down and find peace because he doesn’t like him to be upset.

And of course, this:

Erik: “I thought I was alone!”

Charles: “You’re not alone, Erik. You’re not alone.”

Yes this is a strong first interaction between what will be the bromantic frenemy relationship of the century, but more so than that it plays into some strong conscious gay subtext feature in the film. Like in X2 when Bobby came out to his family as a mutant, there are small but important lines between being a mutant and being gay. Two lines stand out in particular: the one above and then...

Hank [when he’s outed as a mutant]: “You didn’t ask so I didn’t tell.”

X-Men have traditional been used as a parable for those fighting for their rights in those world (specifically America). When they were first being published there was a strong line between Professor X & Martin Luther King Jr. as well as Magneto & Malcolm X. But as times have evolved, so have the X-Men. With a number of LGBTQIA actors and characters in the franchise, in the 21st century X-Men has at times strongly paralleled the issues gay people face in this world. Particularly through Hank’s, “don’t ask don’t tell,” line and Erik’s, “I thought I was alone.” Gay visibility was not as much of a thing in the 50s as it is in 2017, and it was in the 60s when things like the Stonewall Riots occurred giving gay people much more visibility. This film is set in the 60s.

18) Nicholas Hoult as Hank McCoy/Beast.

Hoult brings a lot of heart to the character originated brilliantly by Kelsey Grammer in The Last Stand (Hoult even watched early episodes of “Frasier” to see if he couldn’t emulate Grammer in any way). He features the same intellect as Grammers’ Beast but is a lot more soft spoken. He has not made peace with the animal side of himself yet or who he really is. Like Raven, he needs to learn to take pride in his status as a mutant. He just gets there in a different way than she does. This was the first film I saw with Hoult and I have to say I’m glad for it. Because I think he’s a talented actor who was able to make the role of Hank McCoy remarkably memorable.

19) There is also a notably strong chemistry between Nicholas Hoult and Jennifer Lawrence. It isn’t like Emma Stone & Andrew Garfield in Amazing Spider-Man where you can see them getting hot just by being near each other, but it’s incredibly cute and adorable. There’s a natural back and forth between the pair, a natural trust which means we as the audience are invested in their blossoming relationship as well.

20) While I personally think the relationship between Charles and Raven gives the life its heart, that is not to undersell the intense importance Charles/Erik’s relationship is.

Erik: “What do you know about me?”

Charles: “Everything.”

There is this immediate vulnerability Erik has with Charles which he is NOT comfortable with (since in the past he’s been vulnerable under the worst possible of situations), but Charles doesn’t manipulate Erik with the knowledge he has. There’s an immediate depth of feeling the future Professor X has for his new ally. He wants to make sure he’s okay and the fact that he doesn’t take advantage of Erik’s vulnerability is something Erik is not used to. Meaning Erik trusts Charles more than he has trusted anyone ever before and Charles is able to help Erik reach his full potential as Magneto.

21) I laughed SO hard at this line the first time I saw the film.

Hank [when he hooks up Charles to Cerebro]: “Are you sure we can’t shave your head?”

(GIF source is unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

22) The montage where Erik and Charles find all the mutants to make up the first X-Men team is a slick way of covering a sequence which could have easily dogged down the pacing of the film. Instead, “okay, we need to find Angel and Havok and Darwin and Banshee...” they just cover it in about five minutes with upbeat music and clever pacing/editing.

23) The gay subtext in this film COULD have been much more obvious if they had kept this deleted (where Charles shows off his powers to angel):

24) This is beautiful.

(GIF originally posted by @littlerebelrabbit)

According to IMDb:

Hugh Jackman accepted the opportunity to cameo as Wolverine, when he learned he would be the only character in the film to use the word 'fuck'. He improvised the line, "Go fuck yourself," after using seven other takes to say, "Fuck off". The reaction from James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender to the different line was authentic.

My entire process while watching this scene the first time was, “Hey, that guy looks familiar. Huh, he kinda looks like Hugh Jackman. Hey wait, that IS Hugh Jackman!” This is by far one of my favorite cameos in a film EVER and his appearance makes Hugh Jackman the only actor (to date) to appear in every film with the words X-Men in the title (he didn’t appear in Deadpool so he hasn’t appeared in every X-Men universe ever).

25) I mentioned in my recap for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen that Jason Flemyng is one of my favorite character actors because of that film. Well he fills out Azazel’s red skin quite nicely.

26) Charles and Erik’s scene at the Lincoln Memorial is very telling of their future rivalry.

Erik: “Identification: that’s how it starts.”

This is where Erik’s naivety truly shines through. He actually believes he can convince humans to not be afraid of what they don’t understand, collectively. While Erik’s output might be a little more dower it’s also a little more realistic.

27) The bonding scene between the young X-Men is great.

I’m a sucker for superheroes screwing around with their powers as a way to bond with each other (see: the party seen in Age of Ultron). There is strong humor throughout, each character is developed in simple yet unique ways and we begin to understand their relationships with each other. And it’s just a lot of fun to watch!

Note: I really like Zoe Kravitz in this film, but I think that speaks to her natural charisma more than anything else.

28) Professor Xavier is a jerk.

Charles [after he finds his new mutants comfortable with their powers, screwing around like the young people they are]: “I expected more from you.”

29) The way Erik tears through the Russian guard to get to Frost (and, by extension, Shaw eventually) shows how determined he is. He is ruthless and if anyone actively stands in his way he will tear them apart. It’s simple but powerful. The way he handles Emma also shows off this dedication, as well as the dissonance between how far he’ll go versus how far Charles WON’T go.

30) The “Children of the Atom” scene which showcases Shaw’s plan is nicely effective. It has a unique and impactful visual style and its simple enough that the audience isn’t dogged down by unnecessary exposition.

31) Shaw’s attack on the CIA is an incredibly strong turning point for the film. Outside of what’s been going on with Erik, the darkness of previous X-Men films has pretty much taken a backseat in this film. Until this moment. It’s when everything turns to shit, giving an unfortunate end to Oliver Platt’s character and showcasing Shaw’s powers in a unique and threatening way. The few issues I have with this scene are:

I wish we got more in Angel’s head about her decision to join up with Shaw; she does so then her character kind of disappears. It’s like she’s his new Emma.

Even in 2011, the black guy dies first.

32) My brother and I both made this joke the first time we saw this film, so thanks to @jakegyllenhaal for putting it in GIF form.

33) Okay, I might be about to get philosophical here.

Stryker: “In times like this, SECURITY is more important than liberty.”

(GIF source unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

This is an issue in today’s modern age, but here’s the thing: liberty is more important than safety. Above all. “Give me liberty or give me death,” is a famous line that is basically one of the things this country is built on. So no, Security is NOT more important than liberty. Liberty and freedom above all. And if you have to compromise on security to do so than you should. At least, in my opinion.

34) X-Training.

This is - in a lot of ways - what I’ve missed from the X-Men series. Charles actually being a teacher. Actually seeing the X-School in work and seeing students learn to master their powers. You know why Harry Potter is so cool? In part, it’s because we like to imagine taking all the classes. And now we’ve finally get that. It shows Charles being more of a teacher and growing into his role of Professor X more which is wonderful. Also - like the recruitment scene - the montage format is great. The editing and music keep it from dragging down the film. We could easily have spent like, “okay, two minutes on Beast now two minutes on Havok now two minutes on Banshee,” etc. But the montage makes it like a music video. Easily digestible, supported by Henry Jackman’s score, and just a lot of fun. Each character’s development is also continued, making them unique individuals who’s relationships with each other and personalities we understand. It’s just really great.

35) Glad to see they’re trying to maintain SOME continuity with the series.

Hank [about Raven]: “When you’re 40 you’ll still have the looks and sights of a teenager.”

36) Rage and serenity.

This is the moment of greatest trust and vulnerability Erik has with Charles. Erik trusts Charles enough to let him go through his mind and find his most intimate memory with his mother. It’s a holiday I assume (that’s a menorah so I’m thinking Hanukkah as Erik IS Jewish) and it’s this beautiful memory of someone he misses more than anything else. And it shows Charles who Erik is. It is the strongest moment in their entire relationship and defines it’s better qualities in a lot of ways. It’s pure character and I love it for that.

37) Hank and the cure.

(GIF source unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

There’s a strong juxtaposition between where Hank is with his self worth and Raven. Magneto has convinced Raven that she should be mutant and proud, that she should embrace her natural form. And she tries to do the same. It doesn’t exactly work though.

Hank: “My feet and your natural blue form will never be deemed beautiful. [Raven changes her skin back.] You’re beautiful now.”

Dude, you just said the girl you like will never be beautiful unless she looks like someone else. And I get that you’re projecting your own issues onto her, but also you’re words hurt her so much that she instinctively goes back into hiding.

Aka: the moment Hank and Raven would not get together (as of now).

38) Charles and Erik playing one last chess game before going to stop Shaw.

It is widely foreshadowing of the conflict to come between the pair and an unfortunate piece of dramatic irony for us as the audience. It is the showcase of the dissonance in their relationship at its most basic.

Charles: “Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik: “Peace was never an option.”

That is just not applicable to Shaw for Erik, but humans as well. He’s not interested in peace with humanity, he’s interested in supremacy. As we saw in 2000′s X-Men.

39) Mystique seducing Erik always felt a little off to me. I know she’s mad at Hank and that Erik is the only guy in her life right now to make her feel totally comfortable with who she is (along with helping her be mutant and proud) but it feels a little unearned. I don’t get any sexual chemistry between them. I see a nice relationship but not a sexual one. Maybe it’s just me. But the Rebecca Romijn cameo is appreciated!

40) Hank’s gone into Beast mode.

The practical makeup to get Hoult looking like the blue beast is incredible, because it IS largely practical with a bit of CGI to help enhance some areas. You begin to see a bit more of Kelsey Grammer in Beast now which is fun, but Hoult still makes the role his own. This is what helps him accept the animalistic instincts in him and reach the status of mutant and proud. It’s a great part of the film.

41) Now I’m just thinking about the first X-Men...

42) The climax of the film not only shows the team working well together but has some nice surprises in it (mainly when the Russians blow up their own ship). It’s best seen when the team find Shaw’s submarine and Erik says he’s going in. Charles does not question or second guess his teammate’s decision but works with it and sends him back up. It’s a lot of fun to watch this team in action.

43) Erik and Shaw’s final encounter.

For most of this scene Erik is silent, just letting Shaw rail on him because it allows Erik’s telepathy to feed through. He says nothing until he’s about to be in control which takes a lot of self discipline.

Erik: “Everything you did made me stronger...That’s the truth. I’ve known it all along.”

And then what Erik says right before he kills Shaw is INCREDIBLY powerful especially when you think of the path Magneto goes down.

Erik: “I agree with every word you’ve said. We are the future. But unfortunately, you killed my mother.”

The way Erik ends up killing Shaw is so cruel and dramatic then, with the mirrored cinematography on Charles’ head (as he’s in Shaw’s mind) just driving the point home. He’s not just killing Shaw. He’s killing any kind of platonic relationship he could have with Charles too.

44) And so Erik’s transformation to Magneto is complete.

He is now the mutant leader we know from the first film, with his powers under full control. Now that he’s done with revenge he can move on to freeing his mutant brothers and sisters. He’s embraced not just his powers but his role as a leader of mutants and an enemy of mankind. And he’s tired of being vulnerable.

Charles [about the US and Russians Erik is about to kill]: “They’re just following orders!”

Erik: “I’ve been at the mercy of men just following orders.”

(GIF source unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

45) The ensuing fist fight between Charles and Erik could have easily been based around powers. Charles could have used his telepathy to control Azazel or Angel or someone and send them in to fight Erik with him using his metal manipulation to throw them off. But you know what? Seeing this too just get in a freaking fist fight is much more realistic for their relationship, a lot more raw, and a lot more entertaining.

46) Well, if this isn’t a declaration of platonic (???) love I don’t know what is.

(GIF originally posted by @marveladdicts)

47) It’s nice to see Mystique not go straight for Erik to join him but to make sure that the person who is practically her brother is alright. And then Charles encourages her to go with Erik! It’s still a strong relationship even if it is in tatters.

48) Charles likes to fuck with people’s minds without consent. What he did to Jean in The Last Stand and now getting rid of Moira’s memories without even asking.

49) Oh man.

Moira [talking about things she half remembers]: “A kiss.”

[Room full of male CIA agents groan.]

CIA Agent: “Gentlemen, this is why the CIA is no place for a woman.”

(GIF originally posted by @manofsteel)

50) The ending to this film is very solid, with Erik not only embracing his role as Magneto but also the fashion choice.

(GIF originally posted by @wonho-kihyun)

X-Men: First Class is an incredible amount of fun. Matthew Vaughn’s directing style gives the series a boost of adrenaline it desperately needed. Supported by memorable characters, a strong story with strong themes, and absolutely amazing performances almost across the board, this is the reason we still have X-Men films today. An absolute treat for first time viewers and old fans alike, you all should watch it.

[citizen0ne]

Have Humans Been Abducted by Extraterrestrials? A prestigious Harvard psychiatrist, John Edward Mack, thought so. His sudden death leaves behind many mysteries.

                 BY RALPH BLUMENTHAL  MAY 10, 2013 12:00 AM

If you’re abducted by alien beings, are you physically absent?

Anne Ramsey Cuvelier’s Victorian mansion in Newport, Rhode Island, where, once a year, alien experiencers gather and exchange stories. Inset, John Edward Mack at Harvard University, where he earned his medical degree in 1955., Courtesy of Anne Ramsey Cuvelier (house), courtesy of JPL-Caltech/UCLA/NASA (cosmos), courtesy of the family of John E. Mack (Mack).

This happens to be an important issue for the media-shy people gathered one afternoon last July on the porch of Anne Ramsey Cuvelier’s blue Victorian inn on Narragansett Bay, in Rhode Island, once called “the most elegantly finished house ever built in Newport.” Co-designed in 1869 by a cousin of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s, it has been in Cuvelier’s family since 1895, when her great-grandfather bought it as a summer getaway from his winter home blocks away, just as the Gilded Age cottages of the Vanderbilts and Astors began springing up across the island, redefining palatial extravagance. Still imposing with its butternut woodwork, ebony trimmings, and four-story paneled atrium frescoed in the Pompeian style, the harborside mansion turned B&B seemed a fittingly baroque setting for the group of reluctant guests Cuvelier describes as “not a club anyone wants to belong to.”

She had gathered them to compare experiences as, well, “experiencers,” a term they prefer to “abductees,” and to socialize free of stigma among peers. Cuvelier, an elegant and garrulous woman in her 70s, isn’t one of them. But she remembers as a teen in the 1940s hearing her father, Rear Admiral Donald James Ramsey, a World War II hero, muttering about strange flying craft that hovered and streaked off at unimaginable speed, and she’s been an avid ufologist ever since. “I want to get information out so these people don’t have to suffer,” she says. “Nobody believes you. You go through these frightening experiences, and then you go through the ridicule.”

So, for a week each summer for almost two decades, she’s been turning away paying guests at her family’s Sanford-Covell Villa Marina, on the cobblestoned waterfront in Newport, to host these intimate gatherings of seemingly ordinary folk with extraordinary stories, along with the occasional sympathetic medical professional and scientist and other brave or foolhardy souls not afraid to be labeled nuts for indulging a fascination with the mystery. I had been invited as a journalist with a special interest who has been talking to some of them for several years.

Betty and Barney Hill pose with John G. Fuller’s book The Interrupted Journey, which chronicles the 1961 abduction that the two say they experienced. © Splash News/Corbis.

Perched on a wicker settee was Linda Cortile, a mythic figure in the canons of abduction literature, whom I’d come to know by her real name, Linda Napolitano. A stylish young grandmother in a green T-shirt, black shorts, and a charcoal baseball cap, she had agreed to meet me months before at Manhattan’s South Street Seaport to point at her 12th-floor window overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge, where, she says, one night in 1989 three small beings levitated her “like an angel” into a hovering craft in view of horrified witnesses, including, it was said, a mysterious world figure who might have been abducted with her. “If I was hallucinating,” she told me, “then the witnesses saw my hallucination. That sounds crazier than the whole abduction phenomenon.”

A plaque in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, commemorating the Hills’ experience as “the first widely-reported UFO abduction report in the United States.”, © Splash News/Corbis.

The short-haired Florida woman in white capris and a fuchsia flowered blouse was, like Cuvelier, not herself an abductee but the niece of two and the co-author of a book on the first widely publicized and most famous abduction case of all. Kathleen Marden, the director of abduction research for the Mutual UFO Network, or MUFON, one of the oldest and largest U.F.O.-investigating groups, was 13 in 1961, when her aunt and uncle Betty and Barney Hill returned from a trip through the White Mountains of New Hampshire with the stupefying tale of having been chased by a giant flying disc that hovered over the treetops. They said they had stopped for a look with binoculars, spotted humanoid figures in the craft and, overcome with terror, sped away with their car suddenly enveloped in buzzing vibrations. They reached home inexplicably hours late and afterward recovered memories of having been taken into the ship and subjected to frightening medical probes. Their car showed some peculiar markings, and Betty’s dress had been ripped, the zipper torn. She remembered that the aliens had fumbled with her zipper before disrobing her for a pregnancy test with a needle in her navel. I was surprised to hear from Marden (but confirmed it) that the garment is preserved at the University of New Hampshire, in Durham.

Also present was Barbara Lamb, a tanned and gold-coiffed psychotherapist and family counselor from Claremont, California, who studies crop circles, the enigmatic patterns left in fields, often in England, and practices regression therapy, treating personality disorders by taking people back to previous lives. She told me what she remembered happened to her about seven years earlier: “I was walking through my home and there was standing this reptilian being. It was three in the afternoon. I was alert and awake. I was startled somebody was there.” Ordinarily, Lamb said, she is repulsed by snakes and lizards, “but he was radiating such a nice feeling. I went right over and had my hand out. He was taller than I, this close to me”—she held her hands a foot apart—“with yellow reptile eyes. Then he was suddenly gone.” She said she had recalled more of the encounter when a colleague put her through hypnotic regression. “He said telepathically, ‘Ha, Barbara, good, good. Now you know that we are actually real. We do exist and have contacts with certain people.’”

Chatting with this group were two astrophysicists from a leading institution and the director of the Harvard-affiliated McLean Hospital Southeast. I was intrigued by these eminent outsiders, who may have been risking their careers.

But I was interested most of all in the dead man who remained an icon to many on the porch. John Edward Mack, a Pulitzer Prize–winning biographer and Harvard Medical School psychiatrist, spent years trying to fathom their stories and reached an astonishing conclusion: they were telling the truth. That is, they were not insane or deluded; in some unknown space/time dimension, something real had actually happened to them—not that Mack could explain just what or how. But weeks after attending the 2004 Newport gathering, days before his 75th birthday, he looked the wrong way down a London street and stepped in front of a drunk driver.

Aside from those of his circle and university colleagues, Mack is scarcely known today. But 20 years ago, when he burst onto the scene as the Harvard professor who believed in alien abduction, he was probably the most famous, or infamous, academic in America, “the most important scientist ever to dare to admit the truth about the abduction phenomenon,” in the words of Whitley Strieber, whose best-selling memoir, Communion, introduced millions of Americans to alien encounters.

Tall, impulsive, and magnetic to women and men, Mack was everywhere, or so it seemed—on OprahandNova; on the best-seller lists; in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, and Time; at his Laurance S. Rockefeller–supported Program for Extraordinary Experience Research; in scholarly journals, documentaries, poems, theater pieces, and Roz Chast cartoons. And then suddenly he was under investigation at Harvard, the target of a grueling inquisition. “I didn’t think people would believe me,” Mack had confided to his longtime assistant, Leslie Hansen, who was in Newport last July. “But I didn’t think they’d get so mad.” In the end he achieved a measure of vindication, but his freakish demise denied him a final reckoning in an unpublished manuscript he saw as his cri de coeur against scientific materialism and “ontological fascism.”

He left behind another unpublished manuscript, with another mystery he was seeking to unravel, a secret as dark as death itself. And now his interrupted journey may be heading to the big screen. After a four-year negotiation, the film and television rights to Mack’s story were granted by the Mack family to MakeMagic Productions, which has partnered with Robert Redford’s Wildwood Enterprises, and a major feature film is currently in development. But two decades after Mack took alien abduction from the pages of the National Enquirer to the hallowed halls of Harvard, the question remains: why would a pillar of the psychiatric establishment at America’s oldest university court professional suicide to champion the most ridiculed and tormented outcasts of society?

On Cuvelier’s porch, a Vermont shopkeeper who wanted to be known as “Nona”—the way Mack identified her in Passport to the Cosmos, his 1999 follow-up to Abduction—remembered filling 300 pages with “abduction recollections,” which Mack struggled to accept as real. Had she actually traveled on shafts of crystalline light? “John, I know when I’m physically gone,” she remembered replying. “I know when I’m going through a wall.” Mack had had one nagging disappointment, Nona recalled. He had never undergone an abduction, or even spied a U.F.O. Why can’t I see one?, he wondered. Nona would twit him. “Probably because you’re not patient enough, John.”

‘I was raised as the strictest of materialists,” Mack told the writer C. D. B. Bryan. “I believed we were kind of alone in this meaningless universe, on this sometimes verdant rock with these animals and plants around, and we were here to make the best of it, and when we’re dead, we’re dead.” A great-grandfather of his had pioneered the use of anesthetics in eye surgery, and a great-uncle had been one of the first Jewish professors at Harvard Medical School. His father, Edward, was a noted literary biographer and scholar at the City College of New York who had remarried a widow with a young daughter after his wife died of peritonitis eight months after John was born. John’s socially prominent stepmother, Ruth Prince, was an eminent feminist economist and New Dealer whose first husband, a great-grandson of the founder of Gimbels department store, had jumped or fallen from the 16th floor of the Yale Club as the Great Depression deepened.

John Edward Mack with his then wife, Sally, and their first child, Daniel, in Japan, 1960. Courtesy of the family of John E. Mack.

Mack graduated cum laude from Harvard Medical School and, while only a resident, founded one of the nation’s first outpatient hospitals. He took his social-worker bride, Sally, to an Air Force posting in Japan and, once home, introduced psychiatric services to incarcerated youths and impoverished nursery schoolers. He started the first psychiatric department at Cambridge hospital, winning a prize for a study of childhood nightmares, a field he would explore further in his first book, Nightmares and Human Conflict. His second book, a groundbreaking psychological study of Lawrence of Arabia, A Prince of Our Disorder: The Life of T. E. Lawrence, won the Pulitzer Prize for biography in 1977. He traveled in the Middle East, lecturing on the Arab-Israeli conflict and going on “bomb runs,” traveling from city to city warning what would happen if a one-mega-ton bomb exploded overhead, and getting arrested with his family at nuclear-test sites. He cornered Dr. Edward Teller, the father of the H-bomb then pressing President Reagan for a Star Wars nuclear-weapons shield in space. Teller denounced peacenik physicians and told Mack: “If you are not in the pay of the Kremlin, you’re even more of a fool.” After the cold war ended, Mack studied consciousness expansion with Stanislav Grof, a Czech-born psychoanalyst who had experimented with L.S.D. Grof and his wife, Christina, had developed a breathing discipline called Holotropic Breathwork to induce an expanded state of consciousness. In one breathwork session with Russians at California’s Esalen Institute, Mack recounted that he became, “a Russian-father in the 16th century whose four-year-old son was being decapitated by Mongol hordes.’’ He owed a lot to the Grofs, Mack later said. “They put a hole in my psyche, and the U.F.O.’s flew in.”

Mack, at left, performs an autopsy as a student at Harvard Medical School, 1951. Courtesy of the family of John E. Mack.

They flew in with a man named Budd Hopkins.

It was January 10, 1990, Mack recalled, “one of those dates you remember that mark a time when everything in your life changes.” A woman he had met at the Grofs’ introduced him to Hopkins, a nationally known New York Abstract Expressionist and intimate of Willem DeKooning, Jackson Pollock, Mark Rothko, Franz Kline, and Robert Motherwell, whose works hung with his in the permanent collections of the Museum of Modern Art, the Guggenheim, and the Whitney. According to Hopkins, he had spotted a U.F.O. on Cape Cod in 1964, and he went on to investigate the case of a badly shaken neighbor who had reported seeing a spaceship with nine or ten small beings land in a park near Fort Lee, New Jersey. Hopkins wrote a story about it for The Village Voice that was picked up by Cosmopolitan. He was soon being thronged by abductees, whom he examined under hypnosis, and he would win renown as the father of the alien-abduction movement, starting with his book Missing Time, in 1981, and its 1987 sequel, Intruders: The Incredible Visitations at Copley Woods.

Hopkins was then beginning his investigation of the so-called Brooklyn Bridge U.F.O. abduction of the woman he called Linda Cortile, which would become his third book, Witnessed, in 1996. It would involve two security guards for an international figure Hopkins never named but believed to be U.N. secretary-general Javier Pérez de Cuéllar, who, Hopkins would conclude, appeared to have been abducted with her. (I had a local reporter in Lima ask the 92-year-old retired Peruvian diplomat directly about the matter in April 2012. He responded enigmatically, saying, “I’m not interested in those types of curiosities.” Asked if he recalled being questioned by Hopkins, Pérez de Cuéllar, who was in the process of updating his 1997 memoirs, said, “I don’t remember, but it is possible. I can’t assure it nor deny it. My memory at this age fails me.”)

Hopkins gave Mack a box of letters from people reacting to aliens. “I think most of these people are perfectly sane, with real experiences,” Hopkins recalled telling Mack when I visited him in his art-filled Chelsea town house shortly before his death of cancer at 80, in August 2011. But, he added, Mack could decide for himself. He was the doctor.

“Nothing in my nearly 40 years of familiarity with psychiatry prepared me,” Mack later wrote in his 1994 best-seller, Abduction: Human Encounters with Aliens. He had always assumed that anyone claiming to have been abducted by aliens was crazy, along with those who took them seriously. But here were people—students, homemakers, secretaries, writers, businesspeople, computer technicians, musicians, psychologists, a prison guard, an acupuncturist, a social worker, a gas-station attendant—reporting experiences that Mack could not begin to fathom, things, he reflected, that by all notions of reality “simply could not be.”

As he later said, “These individuals reported being taken against their wills sometimes through the walls of their houses, and subjected to elaborate intrusive procedures which appeared to have a reproductive purpose. In a few cases they were actually observed by independent witnesses to be physically absent during the time of the abduction. These people suffered from no obvious psychiatric disorder, except the effects of traumatic experience, and were reporting with powerful emotion what to them were utterly real experiences. Furthermore these experiences were sometimes associated with UFO sightings by friends, family members, or others in the community, including media reporters and journalists, and frequently left physical traces on the individuals’ bodies, such as cuts and small ulcers that would tend to heal rapidly and followed no apparent psychodynamically identifiable pattern as do, for example, religious stigmata. In short, I was dealing with a phenomenon that I felt could not be explained psychiatrically, yet was simply not possible within the framework of the Western scientific worldview.”

With the new millennium, Mack began showing up at Newport, Leslie Hansen remembered. She had been hired to help Mack transcribe recordings of his sessions, and she came to believe in the process that she had buried her own troubling childhood memories of aliens at her bedside. Mack’s household was in turmoil. Sally was unhappy with Mack’s treatment sessions in the house, especially the screams. Mack was also deeply in love with his research associate, Dominique Callimanopulos, the glamorous daughter of the Greek shipping tycoon who owned Hellenic Lines. “John had a lot going on, but he was kind of like a child,” Hansen recalled. “He kind of regarded every person as a fresh slate.” And, she added, “he was very attractive.” Hansen had heard about Cuvelier’s gatherings, and she invited him to attend. Mack was dubious. “What’s this going to cost me?,” he asked. Hansen laughed. “John,” she said, “you’re a guest.”

Two years after meeting Hopkins, Mack was working with dozens of experiencers, and one day he told incredulous fellow psychiatrists at Cambridge Hospital about alien abduction. In 1992 he and David E. Pritchard, a pioneering physicist in atom optics at M.I.T., got that institution to open its doors to a revolutionary alien-abduction conference. Mack presented his findings, as did Hopkins and David M. Jacobs, an associate professor of history at Temple University who was teaching the nation’s only fully accredited college course on U.F.O.’s, and who had just published a provocative book detailing alien encounters, called Secret Life. C. D. B. Bryan, the author of the best-seller Friendly Fire, was among a few select writers invited, for another book, Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind, which Knopf would publish in 1995.

“If what these abductees are saying is happening to them isn’t happening,” Mack demanded, “what is?”

Conferees argued over the validity of a poll done by the Roper Organization for the hotel and aerospace mogul and U.F.O. advocate Robert T. Bigelow that sought for the first time to quantify alien abduction in America. Because few were likely to admit to being an abductee, the pollsters asked the 5,947 respondents if they had ever experienced five key abduction-type symptoms: waking up paralyzed with the sense of a strange presence or person in the room, missing time, feeling a sensation of flying, seeing balls of light in the room, and finding puzzling scars. (A trick question asked if “Trondant” held any secret meaning for them. Anyone who answered yes to the nonsense word was eliminated as unreliable.) Two percent of the respondents, or 119 people, acknowledged at least four of the five experiences, which Roper said translated to 3.7 million adult Americans. At a minimum, Hopkins reported, the results suggested that 560,000 adult Americans might be abductees.

Mack, a year before his death, with Budd Hopkins, the American artist and abduction researcher, at the International U.F.O. Congress Awards in 2003. © Stuart Conway.

The beings didn’t have to come from outer space, Mack theorized, maybe just a parallel universe. But by the time he wrote Abduction, he said his cases had “amply corroborated” the work of Hopkins and Jacobs, “namely that the abduction phenomenon is in some central way involved in a breeding program that results in the creation of alien/human hybrid offspring.” He concluded furthermore that the aliens were carrying warnings about dangers to the planet; almost all of his abductees emerged with “a commitment to changing their relationship to the earth.”

Some respected colleagues, asked to comment on his manuscript, were dismayed. Anyone could espouse alien abduction, but Mack was a renowned Harvard professor. “Can I believe any of this?,” wrote the editor of a psychiatry journal who turned down publication even though all of the peer reviewers urged it. An eminent Harvard ethicist and philosopher responded: “Clearly you cannot easily go ahead with publication so long as you do not have more incontrovertible evidence.” Even Hopkins called Mack “gullible.”

Indeed, Mack soon stepped into a minefield, adding to his circle of abductees a 37-year-old Boston writer who intrigued him with a bizarre tale of being taken into a spaceship with Nikita Khrushchev and President John F. Kennedy during the Cuban missile crisis. Then, saying she was a double agent out to expose Mack’s U.F.O. cult, the woman, Donna Bassett, supplied tapes of her sessions to Time, which ambushed Mack with the hoax, calling him “The Man from Outer Space.” Mack countered that Bassett had a troubled history at his office, but the betrayal stung. The Boston Globe followed up with a gleeful headline: ALIENS LAND AT HARVARD!

Undaunted, Mack appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show with five of his lucid, articulate, and normal-acting abductees. “He believes them when they say they have been on the aliens’ spaceships,” declared Oprah. “And Dr. Mack believes them, he says, when they say that they have had children with aliens.” Mack put it differently. “Every other culture in history except this one, in the history of the human race, has believed there were other entities, other intelligences in the universe,” he said. “Why are we so goofy about this? Why do we treat people like they’re crazy, humiliate them, if they’re experiencing some other intelligence?”

Harvard had had enough. In June 1994 it convened a confidential inquest under a former editor of The New England Journal of Medicine, Professor Emeritus Arnold Relman. “If these stories are believed as literal factual accounts,” Relman wrote Mack, “they would contradict virtually all of the basic laws of physics, chemistry and biology on which modern science depends.” Some went further, accusing Mack of ushering in a new dark age of superstition and magic.

Mack recruited a potent legal team: Daniel P. Sheehan, of the Christic Institute, who had helped to uncover the Iran-Contra drugs-for-arms deals of the Reagan administration and had represented Karen Silkwood’s family in their successful lawsuit against the Kerr-McGee nuclear power plant, and Roderick “Eric” MacLeish, former general counsel of the Civil Liberties Union of Massachusetts, who was to achieve fame for exposing sexual abuse by Catholic priests in Boston.

Experiencers who had appeared on Oprah with Mack testified for him. Peter Faust, an acupuncturist in his 30s, told of having been recognized on a spaceship by another abductee and of possibly having been an alien himself in a previous lifetime.

And then, as if scripted for dramatic timing, BBC journalist Tim Leach in Zimbabwe called Mack’s office about a flurry of U.F.O. sightings. Mack and his research partner Callimanopulos flew off to investigate a report that on September 14, 1994, a large, saucer-shaped spacecraft and several smaller craft had landed or hovered near a schoolyard in Ruwa, 40 miles northeast of Harare.

The children told Mack and Callimanopulos on tape that the beings had large heads, two holes for nostrils, a slit for a mouth or no mouth at all, and long black hair, and were dressed in dark, single-piece suits. “I think it’s about something that’s going to happen,” said one little girl. “What I thought was maybe the world’s going to end. They were telling us the world’s going to end.”

“How did that get communicated to you?,” Mack asked.

“I don’t even know. It just popped up in my head. He never said anything. He talked just with his eyes. It was just the face and the eyes. They looked horrible.”

By mid-December 1994, with Mack back in Cambridge, the Harvard committee accused him of failing to do systematic evaluations to rule out psychiatric disorders, putting “persistent pressure” on his experiencers to convince them they had actually been abducted by aliens, and preventing them from obtaining the help they really needed. Mack countered with a fervent rebuttal.

As the inquiry hit the press, Harvard Law School professor Alan Dershowitz wrote an op-ed picked up by The Washington Post and The Harvard Crimson: “Will the next professor who is thinking about an unconventional research project be deterred by the prospect of having to hire a lawyer to defend his ideas?”

When the final report came out, Mack was dumbfounded. In a short statement, Harvard Medical School cautioned him “not, in any way, to violate the high standards for the conduct of clinical practice and clinical investigation that have been the hallmarks of this Faculty.” But Harvard “reaffirmed Dr. Mack’s academic freedom to study what he wishes and to state his opinions without impediment. Dr. Mack remains a member in good standing of the Harvard Faculty of Medicine.”

Mack had prevailed, but he realized in retrospect that he had made a fateful error. As he wrote nearly a decade later in a manuscript he was seeking to publish as his masterwork, “When Worldviews Collide”: “I can see now that I had to a large extent created my problem with the literalness that I had treated the encounter phenomenon in the 1994 book. It is possible that in some cases people are taken bodily into spacecraft. However, the question is more subtle and complex.”

Whether space aliens were visiting, what planet they came from, and whether they were friendly to humans seemed increasingly less important than what such spiritual encounters revealed about the cosmos, Mack wrote. The Western materialist worldview was closed to such mysteries. But even without physical proof of the encounters, scientific investigation could proceed through study of the abductees themselves. What was needed, Mack argued, was a new “Science of Human Experience” stressing “the value of the authentic Witness.”

In any case, the aliens’ abduction phase may have ended, Mack and his associates theorized. Had whatever hybrid-breeding program existed been accomplished? What was the next step? The emergence of aliens among us? How would humanity react?

On Cuvelier’s porch in Newport, a staff astronomer at a renowned astrophysics center, in a short-sleeved sport shirt and cargo shorts, explained what he was doing at a gathering of abductees. “I don’t mix the two,” he said. “As a scientist, I would say we don’t have enough data.” So far, he said, “it’s hearsay: somebody says they saw a light, somebody is telling a story what they saw.” But that didn’t mean, the astronomer added, that the stories weren’t interesting. He was joined soon by a towering, bullet-headed friend of Mack’s who had arrived straight from McLean Hospital Southeast, a psychiatric facility affiliated with Harvard Medical School, where he is the medical director. Jeffrey D. Rediger, who also holds a master-of-divinity degree, is no stranger to anomalous experiences. A decade ago in Brazil, where he had gone to study the claims of a mystical healer called John of God, Rediger said, he had witnessed surgeries without instruments and experienced, on his own chest, a sudden episode of spontaneous bleeding from an unexplained incision that quickly healed.

Rudolph Schild, a noted astrophysicist at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics who had spoken up for Mack at the Harvard inquest, joined the group. I had talked to him several times about one of Mack’s friends and veteran experiencers, a woman named Karin Austin, who, some two decades ago, recalled somehow arriving at a clearing in a forest, where she and other humans had been presented with their “hybrid” children. Schild had interviewed Austin and was struck by her uncanny familiarity with the double suns orbiting one another in the Orion belt. How, he marveled, was she able to give such accurate descriptions of seasonal changes particular to a binary system?

Mack presents the Dalai Lama with a copy of his book Abduction: Human Encounters with Aliens in 1999. By Carl Studna.

With the new millennium, Mack’s interest had shifted to a new mystery, the survival of consciousness, particularly the story of his friends Elisabeth Targ, a psychiatrist with an interest in the paranormal, and her husband, Mark Comings, a theoretical physicist specializing in alternative energy. Targ’s grandfather William, as editor in chief of G. P. Putnam’s, had published The Godfather, and her father, Russell, an inventor of the laser, conducted top-secret extrasensory experiments for the C.I.A. in “remote viewing,” the ability to visualize objects thousands of miles away. Elisabeth’s mother, Joan, was the sister of chess grandmaster Bobby Fischer and had taught her little brother the game of chess. Elisabeth was also a prodigy, with unusual mental powers. As a psychiatrist, she practiced distant healing on AIDS patients, and, later, on patients with rare brain tumors, glioblastomas. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, she contracted the same type of cancer and, despite her practice of the non-traditional prayer therapies she championed, died. She was only 40. But now her husband was telling Mack that she was sending him messages of love from beyond the grave. Mack was writing a book about it, Elisabeth and Mark Before and After Death: The Power of a Field of Love. He sent the proposal off to his literary agent with a note: “There is a bit of urgency about this.” In a few days he would be leaving for London to deliver a lecture on his idol, T. E. Lawrence, killed at 46 in a motorcycle accident in England in 1935.

In Newport with the other experiencers, a Tom Hanks look-alike who wanted to be known as “Scott,” the way Mack referred to him in Abduction, remembered their last meeting at Cuvelier’s villa, in the summer of 2004. Mack was excited about his new book, on the survival of consciousness. Scott confessed his own fear of death. Mack reassured him. “You never know when it will be your time,” he said. “We could all go at any time. I could walk out on the street and get hit by a car.”

Raymond Czechowski, a 50-year-old computer technician, had spent three-and-a-half hours at the Royal British Legion, a military charity in north London, planning the latest poppy drive to aid the troops, in the course of which he downed five or six pints of shandy—beer mixed with lemonade and ice. Then, on that mild, clear Monday night of September 27, 2004, he pointed his silver Peugeot north and started driving home.

Just ahead, shortly after 11 P.M., in the north London suburb of Barnet, John Mack climbed wearily out of the Underground station at Totteridge and Whetstone. His talk had gone well, and many in the audience had brought copies of his Lawrence biography, which they asked him to sign. He had also spoken about the death of his father, Edward Mack, who, 31 years before, almost to the day, had been driving home with the groceries to their summer home in Thetford, Vermont, when his car collided with a truck. In London, Mack was staying with a family friend, Veronica Keen, a widow who told him she had been receiving messages from her deceased husband—more evidence, Mack thought, of survival of consciousness. She had said to call her from the station and she would pick him up, but Mack decided to walk. He crossed a divider and stepped into the busy street. His American instinct was to look to the left.

Czechowski hit the brakes, but too late. Mack’s body flew into the air, shattering the Peugeot’s windshield before traveling over the roof and landing heavily on the ground. “He just stepped there, bang,” Czechowski told the police, who registered his alcohol level at well over the limit.

Mack never regained consciousness. From a crumpled paper with an address on it found in his pocket, the police learned his destination and his identity.

Keen, who sat with Mack’s body at the morgue, said he materialized and told her, “It was as if I was touched with a feather. I did not feel a thing. I was given a choice: should I go or should I stay? I looked down at my broken body and decided to go.”

At Mack’s funeral, many recalled one of his favorite quotes, from Rilke’s Letter to a Young Poet (as translated by Stephen Mitchell): “That is at bottom the only courage that is demanded of us: to have courage for the most strange, the most singular and the most inexplicable that we may encounter. That mankind has in this sense been cowardly has done life endless harm; the experiences that are called ‘visions,’ the whole so-called ‘spirit-world,’ death, all those things that are so closely akin to us, have by daily parrying been so crowded out of life that the senses with which we could have grasped them are atrophied. To say nothing of God.”

Barbara Lamb and other friends also reported visitations.

Roberta Colasanti, one of Mack’s research associates, said he communicated to her a cryptic message on the abductions they had been studying: “It’s not what we thought.” Colasanti waited breathlessly for the solution to the mystery, but it didn’t come. Mack promised to return with more information. So far he hasn’t.

Go ahead tell yourself he was just a crazy conspiracy nut.