#in my mind palace of course… his fans would eat me alive if I started screaming about how upset I am about his skill set (and favoritism)

[danzainosolitude]

There is hatred festering in one’s heart for a fictional character once again.

[saezutte]

yuletide letter 2020

Dear Yuletide Writer, 

Oh, hello again. I didn’t see you there.

This year, I have transcended earthly desires and struggled to find any fandoms to request. I want nothing. I wish my cat was nominated as a Yuletide fandom so we could all write stories about her life. 

Nonetheless, I have some small requests!!!! I believe you can make me happy in ways I’ve never been happy before. I trust you. Happy end of 2020, the cursed year, I hope you are blessed with rest. 

My AO3: saezutte

My public twitter: juncassis

My tumblr: here but I do not use tumblr much anymore, sorry.

Do Not Wants

[note: I have no actual triggers, nothing you can write for me will make me any more depressed or anxious than I already am]

Death (of major/important/beloved characters)

Suicide attempts, self-harm

Rape (outright; OK with dub con, manipulation, noncon short of violent-rape-for-violence-only)

Eating disorders, body shaming

Angst without a happy ending, really too much angst at all

Established relationship

Cheating

Actual Unrequited Feelings

Pregnancy (the actual process; breeding kink is fine)

Scat or watersports

Hard BDSM or any kink complicated enough that the characters would have to discuss it ahead of time

Homophobia as a plot device

Excessive attention to identity or politics, sometimes known as “issue fic”

Note on AUs: I am ok with the usual popular AU tropes but I do not want them combined, e.g. A/B/O is fine and coffeeshop is fine, but I don’t want an omega barista getting his scent all over the lattes he makes for some alpha lawyer who comes in every morning. (Ridiculous example, but you get the point.) For AU/modern settings of fandoms with magic, I often like it when the magic is still there in the AU setting. I also like AUs which maintain the general outlines of the character’s relationships, like if the characters are childhood friends in canon, I like to keep that intact.

General preferences:

I am a pretty basic bitch when it comes to fanfic: I like it when two clueless boys pine for each other through some shenanigans and then lock eyes/lips/dicks.

If you fed a neural net every fanfic written in Stargate Atlantis fandom between 2005 and 2010, the result would probably be some nonsense I’d enjoy.

I love many tropes. Tropes! Bed-sharing. Sharing an umbrella. WASHING EACH OTHER’S HAIR? Confessions where they are having an argument and then one of them yells “Because I love you!”

I love situations where characters are forced to spend time in close proximity and find themselves with feelings.

I love fakeness: fake dating, fake marriage, arranged marriage, marriage of convenience, fake lust induced by sex pollen or heats, aliens make them have sex, whatever.

I love porn, if you want to just write me some quick porn, that’s great. I do prefer (per the established relationship DNW above) that it be first time or get together porn. I know that can make it hard to just write porn, but I don’t need much to be convinced of sex.

Nirvana in Fire (TV)

Requested characters: Mei Changsu, Xiao Jingyan

Note: I also love Lin Chen so if you want to write some MCS/LC or LC/Fei Liu or LC/MCS/JINGYAN OT3??? go for it. I am also a Nihuang/Xia Dong shipper so if you want to put that in… somehow… my gay little heart would be happy. I also like Nihuang/MCS/XJY or MNH/MCS + MCS/XJY but I’d like the focus on the men in that case!

I watched this show because someone recommended this show to me as, like, Chinese Game of Thrones but good. I think it’s genuinely one of the best TV shows I’ve ever seen. I love plots and revenge and good people doing bad things for justice. Even the ending is good for me though obviously it left me unsatisfied on several points.

I am deeply into sickly doomed genius MCS and every time he got even more deeply ill, I fell deeper in love. Every time he coughs up blood, my heart would race. I love his terrible schemes and stupid self-sacrificing choices. I find watching this show very soothing because I knew he would always come out on top in his schemes. I trust him. I love handsome clueless Jingyan and how he’s just so good (it’s terrible.) I love his mom and how much he cares for her. I love him but he is useless, he needs his Xiao Shu and I need fanfic to restore him to him.

Note: So my limited research on this says that male/male sex practices were accepted and well-known in this time period in history, so I really don’t want them thinking “oh no what are these weird gay feelings.” There are other barriers to them being together, like a ruler or official being overly attached to one person was considered very bad. I am also a big supporter of the socially-approved polygamy of this time period, so I don’t need Jingyan to refuse to sleep with his wife or something out of loyalty to MCS—he has to do it! Or all their plans are ruined! And he can enjoy spending time with her or the concubines without affecting his feelings for MCS—you could explore that complexity in fic if you like.Prompts:

Mei Changsu isn’t dead, he’s hiding again, Jingyan searches for him

They start having sex during the series, the ending is averted [somehow]

Post-canon, MCS is alive and Jingyan hides him in the palace with his consort/concubines to keep him on as an advisor without anyone objecting

omega verse where MCS was an alpha before he “died" but an omega after he came back.

AU where male/male marriage is customary (maybe aristocratic men are expected to have one male and one female consort?) and so MCS decides the best way to influence and help Jingyan in the capital is by becoming his wife or one of his concubines

anything just get them together and happy.

Tokyo Babylon 

Characters: Subaru, Seishiro

I read Tokyo Babylon as a child and I imprinted on it deeply, now I love politics, ghosts, stalking, age differences, magic. Within the CLAMP canon, I love TB for its episodic focus on smaller stories, the commentary on contemporary society, and Seishiro being an outright creep. I love onmyojutsu and exorcism and Subaru’s innocence getting ruined. I love the city of Tokyo (where I currently live! but do not be intimidated, I don’t know the city well because we’ve been in quarantine most of the time I’ve been here and won’t judge you for details.) I’m open to fics that comply with X canon or not.

With Seishiro/Subaru: It’s bad but I love that predator/prey dynamic where the predator ends up being hopelessly entranced/obsessed/in love with the prey. My read was always that Seishiro lost the bet and couldn’t admit it—he’s just, you know, killing twins to avoid dealing with his feelings! Relatable! (?!?!) Subaru, I love particularly in his evolution from innocent to adult in love to betrayed. I’d prefer post-TB fic to during-TB fic (so Subaru knows Seishiro’s deal and loves him anyway.) I am also a fan of Hokuto and you should feel free to bring her back to life to troll if you desire.

Prompts:

AU or reincarnation plot where they are Heian period rival onmyoji

Because this is such a heavily place-based series, if you are a writer who likes to play with details of real life locations, I’d be interested in versions of different “Babylons” if you have an idea for it.

Tragic first times post-TB lol

Seishiro is a virgin the first time they have sex

I’d probably love some fucked up dub con for this, however you want to play it

Honestly, do whatever you want as long as you don’t fuck me over like CLAMP did.  

プリティーリズム | Pretty Rhythm

Characters: Hiro, Koji

Pretty Rhythm came to me at a weird time in my life. I lived in a house of spiders in Yokohama and did nothing for eight weeks. King of Prism cheer screening transformed my life and I didn’t even know what it was. Then I got weirdly deep into Rainbow Live and the Pretty Rhythm franchise overall. I am a scientist of prism theory. Idk why I like it, it’s just wholesome and crazy and there are penguins and DJ Koo. I love every TRF song because I’m a 90s gay at heart. It’s truly the end point of all media development. The prism world represents the fearsome power of virtual/digital+real hybrid life. Yes, I know I’ve lost my mind. I went to one of the real Prism Stone stores, the one in Harajuku.

Hiro Hayami: one time a fujoshi asked me to describe what types of anime boys I like and the first type I listed was “prince but bad” and my example was Hiro. Hiro is the crazy gay stalker disaster of my heart. He overcomes great hardship to achieve his dreams and foolishly falls in love along the way and he does everything wrong and Koji keeps leaving him. The moment when Hiro is crowned King of Prism in Pride the Hero was one of the top ten moments of my life. I made friends who don’t even know Japanese watch the movie unsubtitled with me on my birthday.

With Koji, I’m a bit guilty of “I want to give the character I love the most the character he loves the most” so I do like him less (it would be impossible to like him equal to how much I love Hiro). But he has many good points that make him perfect, like how he also sucks underneath his chill exterior. I love to see him go apeshit.

I also love everyone else in Rainbow Live, no exceptions. I love all the girls. If you do write the girls, I would prefer they not be paired with the OTR boys. I would prefer they be paired with each other, any combo is good.

Prompts:

this is the sort of pairing where I love fic where they split up and then 15 years later meet again as washed up has-beens but there’s still time for them to find each other

Canon-compliant companion piece showing the “background” of them getting together romantically over the course of the series.

AU where Koji is a prism world fairy sent to inspire Hiro but Hiro is kind of a mess

dirty, dirty porn… let Hiro get fucked

I have a lot of doujinshi with multiple copies of Hiro (a la the Mugen Hug jump) but I’d like something where Hiro gets overwhelmed by many Kojis

They start fake dating as a publicity stunt and have to keep doing it… especially good if it starts when Koji is at max hating Hiro level

Ring Fit Adventure 

Characters: Dragaux, Ring

Keeping this one simple: I like to be encouraged to exercise by a storyline and a trainer that never mentions weight loss, lol. The world is fun and pretty and I love that buff dragon.

AND THEN THE PAIRING. I’m sure Nintendo has some market research that told them a certain subset of users are very motivated by enemies who seemed to once be lovers or best friends. I am that user.

What is up with these two? They were so in love! Now Dragaux is a horrible swole bro (not in a good bro way) and Ring is training me instead? I can’t compete with their love. It’s the only time the game makes me feel inadequate.

You can keep Dragaux and Ring as dragon/ring-like as you like. Obviously I’m down with dragon fucking but you can also make him a human fucker too. I play with Ring on the masculine voice setting for maximum BL vibes as I exercise, but, you know, it’s a ring, I don’t think it has gender. Feel free to incorporate the player or other random characters too.

Prompts:

AU where Dragaux and Ring owned a gym together and Dragaux sold out to a big chain of gyms

What happened between them when Dragaux was still captured, pre-game? Bondage… literally??

Ring is always bossing me to train, but I’m really doing all the work. Why doesn’t he fight Dragaux on his own for once?? (because the sexual tension is too powerful.)

Tragic flashback to their dramatic break-up ending with their present day reconciliation.

Player/Dragaux/Ring threesome??? I’ve unlocked the sexercises???

With all fandoms, you are free to disregard the prompts and do your own thing. If you’re not sure about me, you can probably dm seriesera on twitter, she knows what I’m into. 

Well, I suppose that’s all for now. Please stalk me online to get more details on my bullshit. I hope you have a nice time.

Best,

Caitlin 

[thatthingcalledfate-phff]

Chapter 2

Life Support

The British Royal Family had never have anyone run off from their own wedding- actually William, now Prince of Wales, believes that he had never heard of any royal who had the guts to run during their wedding day. Which is why, as days pass and he thinks about Harry’s situation more, he found it more complicated. The whole world or those who are interested are divided; there are those who support Prince Harry’s decision and there are those who doesn’t. Unfortunately, the people who do not support him are more vocal about their thoughts and are much more heard with the use of social media and tabloids.

 “This is absolutely outrageous.” The king said as he sifted through the newspapers on his desk; carefully reading each headline one by one. William, who sat comfortably on the leather seat in front of him, remained silent and glanced out of the window. “This is upsetting.”

 William took a look at his father, “Even more upsetting for Isabella Clarke.”

King Charles III looked up at his son, his glasses falling slightly but is caught by the bridge of his nose. “Especially for her.” He agreed before returning to his task. “It was not her fault Harry chose her.” He mumbled placing the newspaper he had just read to the side and starting to read a new one.

 “She’s not on the good side of the people right now.” William spoke out inching his chair towards the table and looked at some of the papers. On numerous front pages, the pictures of Isabella wearing her doctor’s coat are posted. To think that, usually, you think that a doctor is always respectable; however, in this case, Isabella Clarke is being dragged to the ground. “Confirmed, Homewrecker Doctor.” He read one out loud before flinching.

 Charles sighed and pushed away the papers lightly before leaning back. “People will always want someone or something to blame, William.”

 “It’s unfair that she got it. It’s not as if she wished for it.”

 “No one ever asked for it.” The king said and William frowned. “It’s just like when your mummy died; the people couldn’t blame anyone else so they theorized that we murdered her.”

 William kept his mouth shut for a few minutes before he sighed and looked at his father inquiringly, “Can’t we release a statement? Defend her at the very least. If she was Kate, I’ll break protocols just for that.”

 “William, not now. If mummy doesn’t agree to it, she has a reason.”

 The blonde sighed, “She’s mad at Harry; of course she’ll not agree to anything that will do neither Harry nor Bella good.”

 Charles nodded but said, “She’ll come around. Let’s just give her time.”

 William left after a few more minutes and went home to his apartment back in Kensington Palace being welcomed by George, Charlotte, and Kate who’s carrying their newest bundle of joy. “How was it?” she asked after giving him a peck on the lips.

 He shook his head and took the little baby out of Kate’s arms. “He says to wait it out.”

 “But they’re dragging her name through mud.” She objected astonished at William’s answer and she looked at him incredulously. “That’s not right.”

 William sighed, “I know..” he agreed “But what can we do?”

 Nothing. Catherine, being a woman who believes that there are only solutions, is thoroughly annoyed at that word. She continued cleaning the baby’s bottles after her small talk with William. They can at least release a statement asking for respect. She thought staring intently at the running water before her. This is going to get out of control. I hope she doesn’t get tired of this or Harry will go mad.

 After she’s finished, the table had been prepared for dinner and she sat beside William, who’s sitting at the head of the table. They ate quietly, the only noise that can be heard are the occasional babbling of the baby. It will be so hard on her when she wakes up. She thought worriedly remembering that Harry had messaged her and told her that Bella is still unconscious. However, her attention was caught by Martin coming in and handing out a piece of fax paper towards William. “What is it?” she asked wanting to lean in and take the paper out of William’s hand but didn’t do so because Martin is there.

 “Thank you, Martin.” William told Martin who bowed his head a bit before going out of the dining room. He handed the paper towards Kate who gasped when she had read the contents. “We need to call Harry.”

 It’s the sound of her heart monitor that comforts Harry as he sat beside Bella inside the Intensive Care Unit; if it wasn’t for that constant beating, Harry will probably not believe that Bella is alive. She looked deathly; no color on her face, her lips dry and cracked, her skin dry but even with that, for him, she looked calm. He thanks the Heavens for not taking her from him during the operation. Still, Harry’s heart jolts whenever he would reach out and hold her hand. “Will you still love me when you wake up?” he asks Bella pulling her hand up to his lips- he kissed it softly. “When will you wake up?”

 It had been days. He doesn’t know how long he can still hold on to his sanity if she doesn’t wake soon. Even though Doctors West and Clarke assured him that it’s normal for patients to usually stay asleep, he still couldn’t shake off the worry and doubt that goes through his mind whenever he sees Bella- especially when he’s not with her.

 “Harry?” Georgia Clarke called pulling Harry’s sight away from her daughter. “Would you like to sleep and shower for a bit?”

 He shook his head. If I leave, my paranoia will eat me alive. He thought before saying, “I’m fine.”

 Georgia Clarke had never seen a love so pure; during the past few days, she had observed Prince Harry around her daughter. As a doctor, she had seen every kind of love there possibly is; but the way Harry looks at his daughter is very rare. She is amazed at how he looks at Bella- like the sun shines and sets with her daughter. “I assure you that she will be fine, Harry.” She smiled at the prince who, once again, peeled his eyes away from Bella to look at her. “Go on, I’ll stay here for a while.”

 Although a bit reluctant, Harry decided to take Georgia’s offer and kissed Bella softly on the hand once again before letting it go. “I’ll be back soon.” He whispered at Bella’s body before smiling at Georgia and leaving the room.

 Currently, he’s staying in the Clarke’s pent house in downtown San Diego. Bella’s parents insisted on letting him stay with them while Bella is in the hospital- mainly for security reasons. He glanced back at Fred, his PPO, as they entered the elevator that will lead them to the pent house. “You alright?” he asked his PPO who gave him a nod.

 Harry had wanted to ask the Clarke’s about the price of their penthouse every time he comes inside it but he deemed it inappropriate to do so. But, he knew that it won’t be cheap. He had been in too many fancy places that he now can distinguish expensive and valuable places. The Clarke’s had given him Bella’s room for the time being and he is always gobsmacked at the view.

 A few days with Bella’s parents made him realize a few things; first, they are not just rich; second, her parents own a lot of properties worldwide; third, Bella is an heiress for both her parents and grandparents; and fourth, Bella is very much different from her parents. Yes, Harry sees the resemblance between Georgia, Gerard, and Bella but when it came to their attitude, Bella is far more down to earth than her parents mainly because Bella never told nor hinted to Harry about finances. Well, he didn’t think that it is appropriate that Bella talks about it but she never acted like she owned a lot. Which is why her parents are not happy about the headlines and articles about their daughter; they had read a few and even though they don’t say anything to Harry, he knows that they’re upset.

 Harry took a long shower and decided to reheat the lunch prepared by Georgia. He placed the food container inside the microwave and before he can start it, his phone started ringing. “Wills.” He greeted his brother simply while tapping his spoon on the counter.

 ���Are you in the hospital?” William’s voice sounded frantic and Harry stopped tapping his spoon and furrowed his eyebrows.

 “No, what’s up?” he asked. I’m quite sure if anything happens to Bella, Georgia will call me. He thought comfortingly.

 William sighed, “Daddy received a fax. A threat.”

 “To us?”

 “No. To Bella.”

 “You’re kidding, right?” Harry asked in disbelief; people can’t be serious about this. He couldn’t understand why people put all the blame on Bella when it was him who decided to run off. Albeit he didn’t want to hurt Meghan, but he knew that staying with her will damage her in the long run. And, if they have kids, it will damage them more. He thought about how people should understand this- they should understand that marriage cannot be forced.

 “Unfortunately not.” William said seriously. “The writer knew where Bella is and her current condition.” He continued and Harry remained quiet, staring off into space. “It might just be a threat from one of Meghan’s fans who works for the hospital Bella is in though. I highly doubt something will happen.”

 ”I don’t think highly doubt is acceptable right now, Wills.”

 William agreed, “I know. Best we can do is keep a close eye on her and keep the people near her limited.”

 Not willing to take risks, Harry went back to the hospital as quick as he can. Georgia and Gerard Clarke looked up from their seats when Harry came in; both smiled. “Can we talk?” he asked the two who both looked at him confused before nodding their heads. “Not here.” He added not really wanting Bella to hear even though she’s still, technically, comatose.

 The three went just outside Bella’s cubicle in the ICU and Harry, scared to tell Bella’s parents about the situation, gulped. Surely, a parent has their limits. Especially if it involves their only child. He thought licking his lips quickly and Gerard Clarke gave him an encouraging look. “I need to tell you something.”

 “Well, what is it?” Gerard Clarke asked tiredly, he hadn’t had any good sleep since he had finished the surgery on Bella; mainly because he’s anxious to see his own daughter awake. “Harry?”

 Harry gave out a breath and decided to tell the truth, “The palace received a threat for Bella.”

 “Within the hospital?” Georgia gasped. “Should we call the cops?”

 “No, no..” Harry quickly shook his head. “It might just be one of Meghan’s fans..”

 “That hates our daughter.” Gerard continued and Harry looked down on the floor- like a child about to get in trouble. However, Gerard sighed. “We’ll limit the doctors and nurses near her.” He said pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s defenseless right now, Harry. This is too much.”

 The prince nodded agreeing; he felt bad that he’s bringing Bella’s family too much especially during this time. It is enough that her parents are worried about Bella’s wellbeing as of the moment- he didn’t need to bring them scandals, headlines, gossips, articles, and threats. However, this is to be expected. With Harry now being with Bella, everything that was mentioned comes along with him. It will never end- even if they get married. Even Catherine Middleton, who had been married to William for almost 8 years now, still get criticism from everything she does- even from what she wore.

 But, Harry is pulled away from his reverie by Gerard clearing his throat, “Would you mind staying with Bella for a while? I believe Georgia is right, I do need to sleep.” He said and Harry nodded. “I’ll just bring some food later.”

 “Yeah, sure. No problem.” Harry said quickly and Bella’s parents smiled. Together, the three walked back inside Bella’s cubicle; her parents grabbed their things before leaving. Suddenly feeling hungry, Harry looked towards his PPO and asked, “By any chance, can you go to the cafeteria for me?”

After his PPO left, Harry is left watching Bella silently. You had already turned her life upside down. He thought sadly and slowly, he sat down at the edge of her bed and softly took her hand. “Don’t leave me. Never leave me, please.” He whispered pleadingly. The constant and stable beating of her heart monitor is his answer and he gave out a sigh. We’ll see if she stays after she wakes up and finds out that half the world despises her. The other part of him thought and, this time around, he couldn’t ignore his thoughts.

 It is still the sound of her stable heart monitor that calms Harry. And feeling his stomach grumble, he stood up from the edge of Bella’s bed and grabbed an apple from the table beside her. “On a lighter note though, the sun is shining quite brightly today.” He started sitting on the chair beside Bella and he started admiring the smoothness of the apple before sending a look outside.

 “You would have loved it if you see it.” He continued and a spike from the heart monitor made him look away from the window and straight towards Bella’s face just to see her eyes wide open.

[miraimisu]

Babe, let me request #48 please? (/ω＼)

I love this prompt to bits because, like, it’s such a flexible thingy? It has so much field to dig in and MAN ain’t I in for some ♥*-MINEDIGGING-*♥ – so yeah, galore with thy angst and get a grip on your nearest vodka bottle. 

Bakugou Katsuki was no friend of mistakes, misunderstanding or whatever the name one would have for it– but in that moment, he knew he had made a mistake.

A very big one.

He was now pacing all around his room, hands deep in his sweatpants’ pockets as he went around his dorm, his head shaking, rattling, telling him he had made the right choice– but man. wasn’t his heart crying inside his chest. The feeling of dread, regret and just… trying to imagine, without wanting to, how broken she had been after she was robbed of a wonderful night. It was all starting to eat him alive.

There was a pang in his heart that was, definitely, not going to survive this night. Uraraka had shown up at his dorm door, her hands shaking, unable to stop talking and beating around the bush. 

He had had to shush her with a glare and a twitching eye. “Uraraka, you’re making my head pound and you’ve been here for a fucking minute.”

“Oh, right!” she seemed to remember that the point of her visit was, and he swore there was this spark in her eye flatering each second he glared at her. “Sorry, I didn’t intend to crash in this late, so uh.. I was wondering…”

He leaned a bit forward to get the sentence out of her spluttering mouth, but she was taking her sweet time. Something big must be bothering her if she’s such a mess in front of him, someone she would be unfazed by and, actually, was constantly headbutting for a make up with Deku.

Again, like hell making nice would cut it– but again, that was off topic. Her hands racked behind her head as she racked for words that would convince him to follow her plan. “Well, you see…” she trailed off for a moment before snap suddenly almost pouncing on him and what the fuck “there is this party at the town center that everybody is going to! But you need to get yourself a partner if you want to go in for free and– and I don’t really have much money to afford such expensive ball and–”

“Hold the fuck on, a ball?” she nodded, scared of what atrocities he’d bark at her at the notion of suits, dressing up, and snobs hogging him with questions about heroism. However, his response was rather surprising. “And why aren’t you asking Deku instead?”

That startled her, because in no universe would this be a coherent answer that Bakugou would give to a party invitation. It caught her off-guard. “It’s not him who I wanna go with, and– and promised Tsuyu he’d go with her, so… I was expecting to go with you!”

His side leant against the doorframe, eyes darting around as he searched for somewhere to look that wasn’t her, her eyes, the way her lips had that straberry gloss that must taste deliciously good against his or her rosy cheeks. Anything else than her would be fine as long as she didn’t murmur a word while he pondered the consequences of going to a ball with her.

It could either go incredibly well and end the night with her tucked in his chest or end horribly wrong with him screwing up badly– like he always did. And he had long ago accepted that they didn’t belong together, that having feelings for her was wrong, wrong, very very wrong and going to that damn ball wouldn’t help his turmoil. 

So he looked at her and all his doubts vanished. She wanted to go with him, right? Of course Uraraka was intelligent and would have known the risks of going with a explosive, aggresive and over the top man to a ball, who had more traits as a villain than a hero but was defying fate anyway. In a way, the thought of her overseeing his flaws came across as rather endearing.

But the fear didn’t go away. So when he nodded curtly and spat at her to get the hell out of his corridor, even if she smiled dashingly at him, the troubling feeling of something not being right throbbed and writhed inside of him.

And when there was only half an hour until they had to part to the ball, Bakugou still say by his window, pajamas on and his suit forgotten in a corner of his closet. His heart was tight in fear’s grasp, trembling with the thought of screwing the night up– of fucking er up, of marking her memories of what could be a great night on her own with a sour reminder of what his company was.

And when Kirishima came to knock on his door, fear had barked at him to go away. When his best friend demanded to see him, frightening curses flew towards his friend. His troubling thoughts, banging against the walls of his whole being fought to keep him at bay. But when Kirishima eventually left the door, his footsteps fading out, he felt no relief.

There was no pleasure on the way Bakugou punched the nearest wall and started cursing at his shitty feelings for gravity girl, screaming because she was the first one to actually give his heart a reson to beat, give his mind something to think of when days were gray, and have something to treasure.

He was no longer the same boy.

And he was torn between deeming it a good or a bad thing, still struggling to find the answer to his ever lasting war.

Were those shitty feelings there to hold him back? Where they there to lift him up?

Then, a sharp image of her crying came to his mind. He knew that everyone was still gathered down at the hall, and Kirishima was probably telling her the news. He still had time to dress up and run to her side, be a good friend– be a good date. The walls around him remained silent, and five minutes later, time dragging on, everything around him remained silent, as if chiding them menatlly for his rash decision.

And, much to his inner surprise, nobody came around. No one came to him to tell him off for being a jerk, and no angry Uraraka came to his door to beat the shit out of him, like he had expected. Would he have given up, though? Honestly, he didn’t know.

By this time, Bakugou knew everyone was away at the party, and he was glad that Uraraka had found the bravery to go there despite everyone going with a date. He also assumed that she had someone to pay the entrance for her. 

But then… why wasn’t that nauseous feeling going away? She was good to go now, she didn’t need him for anything. Why was the thought so unpleasant for him to fidget with?

Maybe… maybe this wasn’t her fault. Maybe it was his for being so goddamn stupid, for being a coward, for being afraid of facing her.

He stood up from his pity bed, removed all his pajamas and scrambled into his neat tuxedo, his hair a mess and his emotions all over the place– still, the thought of her smiling, her laughing in his arms, sweeping her off her feet… it all filled him with a bubbly feeling of cheer and enthusiasm, his fear all forgotten in the spur of the rise.

His heart was soaring.

So he ran.

He ran, as fast as his feet could carry him, he was flying in the midst of a crowded city, the city lights brushing past him and his blazer swaying in his pace, people staring at him as his sick smirk widened with the thought of her being only his for the night. He was determined to make things right.

For once, Bakugou was set on making her feel like the queen she deserved to be.

When he got to the palace at the center of the town, he could hear soft classical music soothing all his senses into a lulling tempation to just limp and sway with the rythm of the night. There was chatter in the air, people talking heatedly, and he was aware of some people commenting on how wrinkled his shirt was, or how his hair was disheveled– heck, some fans actually kind of squealed upon seeing him at the party.

Bakugou quickly paid for the invitation fee and made his way in, running in between dressed up women with lots of make up and overly extra dresses. He could already picture his princess in a simple, red gawn, smiling when she saw him and squirming in his strong hold.

Bakugou flew upstairs and crossed the threshold to see his people, all in the same area, some chatting and some dancing somewhere else. His crimsom, heated irises scanned the crowd to find her; where was that little thing with  red gawn and–

Uraraka came to view, dancing in the arms of another man, distant laughter filling his ears and the feeling of her in his arms twinkled to disappear as he stared at her, unbelieving– she was smiling in the arms of another boy, sharing experiences with another person that wasn’t him, and suddenly, it dawned on him that he had been too late to the party.

She had found somebody else to dance with. He wouldn’t be the one to sweep her off her feet. Suddenly, he was alone, and she wouldn’t need him anymore.

Frowning, head down and tie too suffocating, Bakugou turned around and left the party before it had even began for him. The void in his stomach only widened the more steps he took home

And in his walk to the dorm where he’d end up thinking what went wrong, all conclussions pointed to the fact that he had made a mistake.

A very big one.

[advocatewrites-blog]

Into the Unknown Part 1 Chapter 3

Into the Unknown

Fandom: Undertale, Coraline (book), Over the Garden Wall, Paranorman, Gravity Falls (season 2)

Characters: Frisk, Norman B., Dipper P., Mabel P., Coraline J., Wirt, Greg, the Cat, the Frog; Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore,; the Other Mother, the Beast, Agatha P., Bill Cipher, Asriel D., Chara D.,

Pairings: Not the focus. Alphys/Undyne, with mentions of Papyrus/Mettaton, sans/Toriel/Asgore, and Wirt/Sara. Due to the nature of Undertale and the dating segments, there is also interpretable Papyrus/Wirt, Undyne/Mabel, Alphys/Dipper, Napstablook/Norman, Mettaton/Norman, Mettaton/Mabel, Sans/Dipper, Sans/Norman, and Sans/Greg.

Rated a high +K for violence, mild language, horrific elements that may be disturbing to younger readers,  mentions of child abuse and bullying, character death that is sometimes permanent, and mentions of suicide that may be triggering. These elements remain relatively unchanged from their source material, which most all are for children, but discretion is advised nonetheless.

Disclaimer: Undertale was created and owned by Toby Fox. Coraline was created by Neil Gaiman and owned by Bloomsbury and Laika. Over the Garden Wall was created by Patrick McHale and owned by Cartoon Network. Paranorman was created by Sam Fell and Chris Butler and owned by Laika. Gravity Falls was created by Alex Hirsch and owned by Disney. Any other work mentioned or homage are property of their respective owners. This is a fan-made, nonprofit work that only seeks to entertain. Please support the original franchises.  

Start from beginning / Previous chapter / Next chapter

Chapter 3

“NYOO HOO HOO…” Papyrus cried. “I CAN’T EVEN STOP SOMEONE AS WEAK AS YOU…UNDYNE’S GOING TO BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME. I’LL NEVER JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD…AND…MY FRIEND QUANTITY WILL REMAIN STAGNANT!”

Coraline watched the skeleton, unsure of what to do. Papyurs had been a much harder fight than she had anticipated, even with sans’ warning. If she lost, she may have never been able to see home again. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a stir of pity for Papyrus. It was the same kind of pity that stirred in her soul when she thought of Toriel. Toriel deserved a second chance. Maybe Papyrus did too.

“You know,” Coraline said. “When I get back to the Surface, I won’t be going back home.”

Papyrus stopped crying long enough to listen.

“I haven’t been to my real home in a long time,” said Coraline. “My family and I moved to a new home, the Pink Palace.”

“IS THAT NEAR THE KING’S HOUSE?” Papyrus asked.

“No. It’s like a set of houses,” said Coraline. “My family isn’t the only ones who live there. There’s Miss Forcible and Miss Spink, and Mr. Bobinski and the mice he’s training to sing.”

“ARE THEY ANY GOOD?”

“I’ve never heard them. But so far, they’re the only ones who’ve gotten my name right.” Coraline said. “I haven’t been able to make a single friend since I moved to the Pink Palace. Maybe…you would like to be my first?”

Papyrus turned back to her.

“REALLY!? YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME???” He asked. “WELL…I GUESS I CAN MAKE AN ALLOWANCE JUST FOR YOU! WOWIE! WHO KNEW THAT ALL I NEEDED TO MAKE PALS…WAS TO GIVE PEOPLE AWFUL PUZZLES AND THEN FIGHT THEM??”

Something cold moved against Frisk’s cheeks, as gentle as moth’s wings. A voice, barely a whisper, spoke.

“Art thou—art thou alive?”

Frisk nodded.

“You poor child,” said another voice.

Frisk tilted their head in confusion.

“She left us here,” said yet another voice. “She stole our hearts and stole our souls. But she forgot about us in the dark. She has worked so hard to find a place to keep you that she has forgotten a place to keep us.”

“I walked through the scullery door,” said the first voice. “And I found myself in the parlor. But she was waiting for me. She called herself my other mamma, but I never saw my real mamma again.”

Frisk took a shaky breath as they realized what they were saying.

“It is the eyes that go first,” said the third voice. “She will steal your soul and she will take your life and all you cares’t for, and leave you in the mist and fog.”

“Flee!” said the second voice. “Flee, while there’s still air in your lungs and blood in your veins and warmth in your heart!”

The nothingness stopped. Hard stone began to form under Frisk’s feet, and Echo Flowers sprouted in the cracks. Lights, not quite stars, formed in the ceiling. A wooden bench formed in front of them. It almost looked like a room in Waterfall. Frisk wondered if it was supposed to be a room out of Waterfall that they never found.

“We must stay in the darkness,” said the first voice, their voice growing fainter than ever. “Flee while you can, but peradventure, you can find our souls…”

Frisk was alone again. They took a seat on the park bench that had formed, ignoring the rush of memories that came with it.

The Other Toriel was going to hurt them. There was no reason to doubt it.

So why did Frisk feel like the real monster?

Their foot collided with something. Frisk was shaken out of their reverie long enough to investigate. It was some kind of food, something like a quiche, somewhat burned and wrapped in foil.

“I just couldn’t handle the responsibility,” said the Echo Flower.

Frisk understood.

The shift from Snowdin Town to the Waterfall was abrupt. It was almost like Coraline had stepped into a different room. The snow quickly melted off and faded into cold earth beneath them. The cold air grew damp, and for the first time Coraline really felt like they were in the underground.

There was one thing familiar about the Waterfall, however. There was a wooden sentry station, the same kind sans had manned. It even smelled like sans’, Coraline realized, ketchup and grills.

Her stomach rumbled, and she realized the last thing she had to eat was some of Papyrus’ spaghetti. Maybe sans’ food was halfway edible.

She moved into the sentry station. True to her suspicious, it was filled with bottles of ketchup and boxes of buns. The hot dog itself, however, was…water sausage? Not something edible, at least.

The only other thing inside was a small journal, worn with use. Coraline flipped through it absently. The pages were filled, either in a language she couldn’t read or with formulas that made her head spin. She settled on one page. A drawing of a human child, detailed rather well for someone as lazy as sans. Underneath was scrawled don’t trust them, the don’t cross out heavily and the trust them underlined several times.

“heya kid.”

Coraline nearly jumped at sans’ voice. She hadn’t heard him approach again.

“though you might like your raincoat back. you won’t have much use for that sweater through waterfall.”

Coraline had nearly forgotten about the sweater. “Thanks for letting me use it. I think one of Papyrus’ attacks may have cut it a bit.”

“oh? you fought my bro?”

There was a tenseness in his voice, Coraline noticed. The kind that sounded like he didn’t know what to think.  She looked up at him, and noticed his smile stretch ever so slightly.

“He challenged me so he could capture me,” Coraline said. “I convinced him that we could be friends.”

“ah,” sans said. “yeah. my bro’s pretty cool like that. hope he didn’t give you a bad time.”

Coraline grew silent for a minute as she watched sans. He un-tensed, but only slightly. His eyesockets were still firmly focused on Coraline, in a way that she could not read. She felt her sins crawling on her back.

“Say, sans, am I the first human in the Underground?” Coraline asked.

The lights in sans’ eyes flickered for only a moment.

“nah. not that many that i’ve heard of, though,” said sans. “not sure what happened to the others.”

“Did your brother capture them?” Coraline asked.

“no. paps was a baby bones the last time a human came through here,” said sans. “hey, humans get hungry, right? care to pry me from my work and go to Grillby’s with me?

“I think I ought to get going,” said Coraline.

“alright. just let me know if you change your mind,” said sans. “i’ll be slaving away here at my checkpoint.”

“I thought your checkpoint was in front of the Ruins?” Coraline asked.

“what? you’ve never seen a guy with two jobs before?” sans asked.

Coraline waited until he had sat down at his checkpoint before waving to him and leaving. She did not feel the eye sockets leave her until she was far away.

If sans had never seen another human before, then who had he drawn in the journal? Did Papyrus not being old enough to capture a human make him not old enough to capture a human? Had the other human been captured, and if so, what became of them?

Coraline was so lost in her thoughts that she hardly noticed herself wander into the thick grass until it encompassed her vision. Every blade was at least as tall as she was, and it was impossible to see around it. She took another step forward.

“HELLO UNDYNE. I’M HERE WITH MY DAILY REPORT,” said Papyrus.

Coraline froze. She could not hear who he was talking to, but it was impossible to mistake his voice.

“UHHH…REGARDING THAT HUMAN I INFORMED YOU ABOUT EARLIER…HUH? DID I FIGHT THEM? Y-YES! OF COURSE I DID! I FOUGHT THEM VERY VALIANTLY! …WHAT? DID I CAPTURE THEM…W-WELL, NO…I TRIED VERY HARD, UNDYNE, BUT IN THE END…I FAILED. W-WHAT? YOU’RE GOING TO FIND THEM? BUT UNDYNE! YOU DON’T HAVE TO DESTRYO THEM! YOU SEE…I SEE. I WILL HELP YOU OUT IN ANY WAY I CAN.”

Papyrus hadn’t helped her at all. She was still going to be captured. That is, unless she did something about it first.

Coraline dared not to move until she heard a set of footsteps fade off into the distance. Then she ran, as fast as she could. She did not slow down even as she heard a set of footsteps behind her.

“o�H<_�2�?"

Frisk jumped. ‘Voice’ was not quite the right word for it. It was a set of sounds, vaguely in a patter that sounded like human speech.

All of a sudden, Frisk was not alone. The new person towered over them, even taller than Toriel was. Its body was covered in a heavy black cloak, the inside in a constant state of motion that made Frisk’s head spin. His face looked more like a worn mask, with two holes pouring into an eye and mouth.

Somehow, the figure managed to convey an expression of mild embarrassment. It raised its hands, nothing but bone and with two holes coming out of its palms.

It moved its hands closer, and Frisk flinched away from it. It took them a minute to realize how the hands moved.

Child? It signed. Are you all right?

Frisk didn’t know what to say. They raised their hands to sign. To wipe away the tears that were threatening to burst from their eyes. To do anything.

How did you come about here, child? The monster asked.

Frisk didn’t know what to say. They settled for making a gesture that looked as if they dropped something.

Lost? The monster asked. How did you end up lost in this world?

Lost me, Frisk said.

The monster looked like they didn’t know what to say to that. Their hands trembled slightly as they signed again.

I am here for much the same reasons, they said.

Their face did not show expression, but somehow Frisk could tell they were stepping in sensitive territory. They decided to change the subject.

What’s your name? Frisk asked.

It has been a long time since I have needed a name. The monster answered.

Everyone needs a name, even if you have to make one up yourself, said Frisk. My name’s F-R-I-S-K, but I haven’t been using that one for very long.

The monster let out a set of noises that almost, almost, sounded like a chuckle.

In life, I was known as W-D G-A-S-T-E-R. You may call me that, if you wish, They signed.

Are you a skeleton monster, WD? They asked.

Gaster nodded.

I’ve met a few skeleton monsters. P-A-P-Y-R-U-S and S-A-N-S, Frisk said. You remind me a lot of S-A-N-S.

Gaster stopped his walking. He signed something, so quick and with so many unfamiliar signs that Frisk couldn’t catch it. He caught on to their confusion, and asked again.

You have met S-A-N-S? He asked, his movements slow and fluid.

Frisk’s hands were shaking too much to sign back, so they nodded.

He is well?

kids like you…should be burning in hell.

I think I hurt him, Frisk said, once they managed to get their hands to stop shaking.

I believe I have too, Gaster let out a noise like a sigh.

Coraline ran through the Waterfall. She ran past the waterfall carrying rocks she had to dodge, ran through the puzzles that were supposed to be solved with bridge flowers, and ran over the boarded piers that connected areas of Waterfall to others. She only stopped running when she caught a ferry ride on a monster’s face. She got three gold in return.

Undyne continued to chase her.

Waterfall grew dark, but Coraline continued to run. More piers awaited her in complex patterns, making makeshift walkways for the citizens of Waterfall to get from house to house. Spears shot from the ground under her.

Undyne was getting closer.

Coraline dodged the spears that blocked her path. She ran until she could not run anymore.

Undyne was right behind her.

Coraline hardly noticed the bridge stop until it broke, already far worn from the effect of dozens of spears. Then she fell.

I understand you are hurt, said Gaster, but this place is not safe. There are many things here that will not hesitate to hurt you.

I know, Frisk admitted. But I don’t know what else I can do anymore.

Gaster did not say anything after that.

WD? What do you do when you hurt someone, but want to fix it? Frisk asked.

Gaster thought for a long time.

You do everything you can to prove you are better than that, I suppose, said Gaster.

Coraline woke up to the sounds of the phone Toriel gave her. She answered, not thinking about who would be trying to contact.

“HELLO!!! THIS IS PAPYRUS!!!”

Coraline remembered what happened the last time she saw Papyrus. “How did you get this number?”

“WELL, I DIALED EVERY NUMBER SEQUENTIALLY UNTIL I GOT YOURS!!! BUT THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW!  I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION!”

“Does it have anything to do with Undyne?” Coraline asked.

“YES!!!” Papyrus said. “YOU ARE QUITE ASTUTE FOR A HUMAN!!! HAVE YOU MET YET!?”

“No. But I did hear you talking to her about me,” said Coraline. “I thought you didn’t want to capture me anymore!”

“I DON’T! BUT YOU SEE…” said Papyrus. “UNDYNE’S OPINION OF YOU IS QUITE…MURDERY.  I THOUGHT I MIGHT BE ABLE TO LEAD UNDYNE OFF YOUR TRAIL BY WORKING AGAINST HER!!!  THAT WAY, YOU CAN STILL MAKE IT TO THE BARRIER WITHOUT DYING AND I WILL STILL HAVE MY FRIENDS!”

The anger in Coraline’s soul faded away. She couldn’t be mad at someone who was genuinely trying their best.

“It’s a little late for that,” said Coraline. “Undyne’s already spotted me.”

“DRAT. BEING FRIENDS WITH EVERYONE IS HARD!” Papyrus said. “BUT DO NOT WORRY, HUMAN! THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL ENDEAVOR TO COOK UP A PLAN TO GET YOU TWO ON BETTER TERMS! THAT WAY, MY FRIEND QUANTITY WILL CONTINUE TO FLOURISH!!! NYEH HEH HEH!!!”

He hung up before Coraline could answer back.

They found themself back in the Judgement Hall. A figure lay before them. The bells chimed.

So you finally made it.

If we were really friends, you wouldn’t come back.

Frisk shook away the bad feelings. They weren’t going to be judged. They were going to make everything better.

“heya kid. wow, you got tossed pretty far, didn’t ya?” the other sans asked. “you won’t tell your mother about this, would ya?”

Frisk shook their head and joined the other sans.

“yeah. let’s get home kiddo,” said the other sans. “say, let ya wear my jacket back for 5 gold.”

Frisk decided to decline. They didn’t say anything until they were firmly out of the New Home area of the Other World.

s-a-n-s, what do you think of other T-o-r-i-a-l? They asked.

The other sans slowed down. Sweat began to form on his skull.

“well, she’s great, y’know?” said the other sans. “she made all  of this, just for you, after all.”

I think I need to go back to the Underground for a bit, and I want to know how to ask her, Frisk said.

“oh, is that all?” said the other sans. He didn’t sound relieved. “well, the best way to get her to do anything is to challenge her to a game. she won’t turn ya down.”

What kind of game? Frisk asked.

“well, you could always have a finding game,” said the other sans. “there are a lot of things here she kept hidden. just make sure you know what to look for. if you ever need a hint, i’ll be willing to give you some advice, on the house. think there are a few other monsters that’ll be willing to give you a hand if you can find them. say…past the Judgement Hall?”

Isn’t that cheating? Frisk asked.

“she ain’t above it,” said the other sans. Phalanges tapped on femur nervously. More sweat dripped from the top of his skull.

He was nervous, Frisk realized.

Thank you sans, they signed.

“no problem kiddo,” the other sans said. “i’m rooting for ya.”

They reached the home. The other sans kept his distance as Frisk entered the house, and didn’t turn to leave until they appeared in the window to sign thank you to him again.

Now came the hard part.

They found the Other Toriel in the kitchen again.

“Hello, my child. You were out for longer than I had anticipated,” said the Beldam. “Would you like to talk about it?”

How do I exit the Ruins?

[dillinger]

MICHELLE LAMY

MONTAGE OF A DREAM DEFERRED

After nine years and 45 exhibitions, Red Bull Space Paris is moving to new digs – but not before ceding the floor to an exceptional woman, Michèle Lamy, for one last event. The collaborative and protean sound installation, to be shown during RBMA Festival Paris, will be our farewell to Rue du Mail. 

As one of fashion's last true eccentrics, Lamy needs no introduction. Over the course of their 27-year partnership, she and husband Rick Owens have been essential in bringing radicality back into the fashion limelight.

At 1,600 years of age (as she likes to repeat,) she remains a fantastical figure, with her jewel-encrusted gold teeth, black-tipped fingers studded with esoteric rings, and trademark “third eye” highlighting her own – steel-blue – eyes. A veritable creature of her own making, she is a cross between witch, shaman and gypsy, all the while maintaining one foot in the world of art, another in fashion, one hand in design and another in architecture – her head swirling with music.

Ripped out of her bucolic Jura upbringing by the May 68 upheaval, the student of Deleuze soon embarked on a myriad of adventures. After stints as a law student, stripper, performer and (conventional) dancer, she left France at the dawn of the 1970s for the United States, drawn by its counter-culture like a moth to a flame: “I was fascinated by American music, literature, and culture. I was in love with Bob Dylan and his unusual phrasing, his way of using language,” she recalls. “Either way, French culture, for me, ended with Proust. It was American literature and music that raised me. I went from May 68 to Studio 54!” Her California dreaming of a bohemian life, surrounded by her idols, like transgender provocateur Vaginal Davis, or fashion freak Leigh Bowery, quickly became a one-way ticket for L.A., where she set up her own fashion line, LAMY, alongside a restaurant, "Les Deux Cafés," located in a former Las Palmas parking lot, with its kitchen across the street – providing a de-facto spectacle in the form of its waiters crossing the street to serve their clients. 

The Café provided Los Angeles with its much-needed push into renewed relevance, drawing in a high-and-low crowd ranging from the most exotic freaks of the 90s underground to Madonna (who stopped in to celebrate a Grammy win,) and Sharon Stone, who regaled guests with impromptu musical numbers. Yet “Les Deux Cafés” was also home to a cabaret, where everything became possible, and where Michèle would satisfy her other, more secret passion for music: “It was [70s LGBT figurehead] Hélène Hazera who made everything click for me when I was hanging out with her and the rest of the Gazolines gang in the 70s,” recalls Michèle. “She told me my voice sounded like Marianne Oswald's. She played me one of the singer's songs, which was written for her on the back of a napkin by Langston Hughes. That's how I discovered this sublime poet.” Hughes, the charismatic gay poet who has been a central figure of the 1920s Harlem Renaissance, has haunted Lamy ever since, prompting her to keep his poetry vital with her own musical adaptations. 

Under the masterful direction of Bobby Woods, the Deux Cafés Cabaret quickly became a den of possibility – and extremes. “Our band was called the Deux Love Orchestra, a sort of house band to the restaurant,” explains Bobby. “Our weekend shows, which eventually became a weekly packed-house kind of affair, would go on into the early morning, and feature lots of renowned surprise guests. Larry Klein, who won a bunch of Grammys, was part of the band, and his ex-wife Joni Mitchell stopped by to sing a few times, as did Boy George. It was incredible, a hot mess – one time, a bunch of lambs even joined the party! But the highlight was always Michèle's performance. Her smoky voice converged with the lyrics and poetry to create a surreal atmosphere, and the whole audience was subjugated. We recorded a number of LPs, some of them live from the Cabaret. At the time, Michèle and Rick lived in his apartment across the street, which only had a toaster for a kitchen – so all dinners where toast-based. Rick started having runway shows in the Cabaret, with the Deux Love Orchestra providing the soundtrack as the models worked the catwalk.”

In 2003, Lamy would turn the page on her L.A. adventure and move to Paris with Owens, who remains one of the fashion's capital most audacious figures. The couple moved into the “Palais,” an immense town house just a stone's throw from the National Assembly, that was once the property of the Socialist Party. The unreal palace was designed, decorated and organized from floor to ceiling as per the couple's wishes: raw concrete walls left bare or covered in artwork, African busts and brutalist furniture – and, of course, a pulsating electronic soundtrack. Thus opened a new chapter in Lamy's life, which she would summarize with grace in an Oyster Magazine interview: “In my twenties, I wanted to escape my rich provincial upbringing, so I abandoned studies as a defence attorney to striptease. I was involved in the May, 1968 protests in Paris, and in the early seventies I wanted to be Bob Dylan. My thirties were spent living the Californian Dream surrounded by artists, and giving birth to my daughter Scarlett Rouge. My forties were an entrepreneurial era in Los Angeles where I met my honey, Rick Owens, and I will spend my fifties enjoying life with him.”

Over the last decade, Michèle, who listens only to electronic music and hip-hop, has become a muse for some of today's most brilliant musicians. She thus collaborated with artist Matthew Stone and gay rapper Zebra Katz for one of Owens' shows; was featured as an unnaturally magnetic figure in the video for FKA Twigs' M3LL155X; commissioned food-based music from UNKLE's James Lavelle for her Bargenale multimedia installation at the 2015 Venice Biennale; shared a passion for boxing with Mos Def; got involved in the creative process of A$AP Rocky's “At. Long. Last. A$AP” – even if she regrettably failed to put him in a dress; she scored hip-hop darling Dexter Navy's “Paris Now – Saint” short for Red Bull Music Academy; guested on Tangiers’ latest “Black Asteroid”; produced and starred in the video for Christeene's “Butt Muscle”. And of course, she counts Kanye West as one of her die-hard fans: “we get along famously,” she laughs. “He thinks he's white, and I think I'm black!”

The renaissance woman/modern-day muse could not refuse Red Bull Studios Paris invitation to record a score for her installation “Montage of a Dream Deferred,”which she created as a living homage to Langston Hughes. “But I am not a singer, or a musician, or a composer. Music for me is a meeting of the minds, a matter of performance, collaboration – and whimsy,” claims Michèle. “So, I jumped at the opportunity to take part in this project, without really having an idea of what I would do. At the same time, the contemporary artist Nico Vascellari invited me to collaborate with him on his Scholomance show at the Palais de Tokyo. That's how the idea for this collaboration took shape.”

It was thus in the intimate atmosphere of Red Bull Studios Paris that the Lavascar project was born: eight tracks full of brutal percussion and industrial soundscapes amid which Michèle's voice, all the way to her demonic laughter, takes on a new spatiality: “Michèle gave me her full support and trust,” says Vascellari, “and I told her I wanted to work with her on something very primitive and intuitive, based on rhythm and vocals, which, in a way, are humanity's first instruments. But I also wanted to try and capture what is inexpressible about her, her incredible presence and magnetism. As she moved and danced in the studio, her rings and jewelry would knock against each other, and I felt it necessary to document and record this energy. Now, when I listen to these eight tracks, the image that comes to mind is of Michèle in a cave, surrounded by wild animals raring to eat her alive, and with only her noise and her poetry to keep them at bay.”

Montage of a Dream Deferred, an exhibition and recording by Michèle Lamy, in collaboration with Nico Vascellari, Matthew Stone, Matt Lambert, Scarlett Rouge. Limited edition vinyl (500 copies,) available at the opening. 

From september 25th to october 20th Opening reception september 25th 6pm-9pm ​Red Bull Space Paris, 12 rue du Mail, 75002 Paris

[myownmotif]

Bangkok

The lines were not moving and the noise level was slowly creeping up but at that point, I couldn’t hear a thing. The humidity made me cranky. My cotton shirt started to stick to my back as we vegetated and started to sprout. The flight had just landed past midnight, after 15 or so hours we were tired and God knows what time it was back in San Francisco then.

As I was bitching about rules and how they don’t matter in this part of the world, a fellow, who could have passed for a uniformed officer, walked up to me, pulls up the dividing rope and without any sign of welcome or a smile asked me to walk past the line to the counter. Feeling suspicious but also basking in pride due to the special treatment, with a bit of arrogance, I got ready to move. And then, his hand pressed hard on my chest. It was firm and intentional. The guy smiled at me and said “2500 Bahts”. All my primal instincts kicking in and with no time to react, I said, yes, of course. Because that's exactly the way things work in that part of the world. Within less than 5 minutes I was out of the airport and breathing fresh air in Bangkok.

Bangkok, like all other developing cities, has a huge divide. There are the wealthy, the spectacular downtown with the high rises, palaces and fancy restaurants; then there is the needy on the other side of the Chao Phraya river in the slums and in old shacks living a dissatisfied life near the canals and markets.

The nation has a strong growing economy and a high employment rate but the sight of poverty was clear and visible before our vision could blur and fall out of reach.

We stayed on the east of the city in Sukhumvit. A middle ground, mostly filled with white collar crowd, people in the IT industry and businesses trying to get to work and back home. Traffic was horrendous during business hours but the transit system was well maintained and in operation at all times. We felt safe and used it pretty much for the most part of our stay in Bangkok. Cabs and Uber (Grab) were also widely available. But for commuters, the savior was the motorbikes/scooters.

This ingenious system was quick, reliable and cheap. The safety really depends on your level of comfort and your ability to tolerate those close calls. The sights of women on the streets, waving at you, promising you a good time at night needs some smart navigating but there is no malicious intent to it.

Chinatown was our first stop. It was a quick train to Hua Lamphong to get to the China Town. We walked around the entirety of it and snacked at a handful of shops and food stalls. The variety was exhausting and the prices were dirt cheap. We devoured some foods and down some which we had no clue of what it was. And later stopped at some Chinese Buddhist temples along the way. 

At the end of the town is the golden Buddhist temple with a massive gold gilded Buddha statue.

Thailand is one of the main patrons of Buddhism. Buddhism is not just their religion but it is part of their culture and the king is a huge worshipper of The Buddha. And the golden temple lying Buddha would not be the last Buddha on that trip.

Right after that we decided to get a glimpse of the city on a “tuk-tuk”. It is not just a vehicle for quick transport it another embellishment to the Thai culture. It is widely used, colorful, adorned with jewelry, box speakers, fit with glowing lights and some even had fans strapped to them. These ones sneaked through the cracks in the traffic like a mouse evading any traps and running through a maze. They did spew a bunch of smoke and particles on your face and mouth as they are not completely covered. But that is all part of the fun.

The quick ride through the city took us to “Wat Pho”. (The name “Wat”, apparently derived from Sanskrit, translates to a sacred place. And any name prefixed with “Wat” that you might run into is a temple/sacred place.)

The Wats, in general, is not just one big monolithic building of gathering. It was a complex of buildings. A plaza of temples. Each one of them with individual names and significance. And every one of them different from the other. Some of the structures were burial places for kings and queens of Thailand. And Wat Pho was one of the famous and oldest ones. The main attraction of the place is the 150-foot statue of a reclining Buddha. Surrounded by other golden buddhas and marble tower-like structure or “mondops”.

And not too far from the place is The Grand Palace. The grand palace is the home of the king. And another marvel “Wat Phra Kaew” built under the same roof. Wat Phra Kaew is one of the holiest places in the city.

The place was filled with monks, tourists, and gold. Gold was being extensively used. As glaring as the gold was there were also some intricate designs. The devil-like looking guardian statues surrounded by tiled marble towers in the corners gave the place a very unique and ancient design.

The structures had complex patterns with immense details. The “mondops” were typically a pyramid-shaped roof was the highlight of most of the shrines. The awnings and surrounding walls were filled with fiery and majestic looking gold shaped, curlicued structures.

We strolled along, marveling at each of those embroidered pillars, painted domes definitely seemed like the counterpart of baroque type paintings you would find in European culture and eccentric structures all around. The place was definitely worth a visit.

After a tiring day, we ended the night with some boozy drinks. The Lebua was a fancy rooftop lounge bar with a panoramic view of the city. (If the place and view looks familiar that’s because the movie Hangover II was filmed at the Lebua among other movies).

We started walking out early the next day. Breakfast was our favorite hour in Bangkok. There were no numbers on the menu to order items. In fact, there were no menus in those stores and sometimes there were no walls. Bangkok is plagued with delicious, mouth-watering street food. The options were unlimited. Cheap, colorful, enticing and sometimes even confusing to the eyes they became an everyday stop for us for the next few days. Sadly, to this day I can't remember the names of the dishes. But they were all amazing.

One of our favorites was a type of rice-based rolls filled with a complex peanut paste. And the sides were just fresh chilies. You take a bite of the rolled balls and nib on the chilies. They were fantastic.

Every breakfast on the trip was unique. But there were two things that stayed constant throughout. The satisfaction of gulping down the Thai iced tea in Bangkok was and will always be unparalleled and irreplaceable. It was a perfect mixture of sweetened condensed milk and tea. A ting of orange, and maybe some savory spice with added ice to it. The feeling of washing down the food with the tea was heavenly. At times I even felt the tea was the reason to eat to breakfast and the food was merely an adjunct to it.

And, The mango sticky rice. Not everywhere, but in this local place (Mae Varee Sweet Sticky Rice with Mango) near our hotel was delectable.

Just the scent drew us in there every day. It was a palace of mangoes and mango sticky rice was all that they were selling. The yellow was dominating. Fresh, juicy and ripe. We took them back to our rooms’ every morning and ravished and devoured them. We knew then that we would never get these back home. Not a chance. It had to be their coconut milk. But whatever it was I miss them both to this day.

Bangkok is known for their markets and its hard to see them all. They have their flower markets, fresh produce markets, train markets, weekend markets, night markets, floating markets and more. They are all vibrant, bustling and run like a clockwork.

We missed out on the floating markets as they only assemble them on the weekends. So you’d have to plan accordingly and they are definitely worth a visit.

So the next on our list was fresh produce. The Khlong Toei market near the slums supplies produces to pretty much all of Bangkok. This was the one-stop wholesale place for every restaurant in the city.

The food was fresh and alive! The stalls were stacked and cramped and the aisles were small. If you don’t have the stomach to watch your food getting skinned, cut and cleaned then this would not be the place for you. They keep the fishes and crabs alive and slaughter them when they are being sold.

The one who slays (or asks to slay) should eat the food.

With the queer sights and smell of the Thai market, Khlong Toei was a great place to experience the daily life and culture that revolve around.

Chao Phraya was not just the river that divides the city but it was another way to commute for the Thai people.

We took a boat ride on the river Chao Phraya.

And at the end of the ride is another magnificent temple, Wat Arun.

If one was a daily commuter then the train or the bus or cars or even the boat doesn’t cut it. The traffic in Bangkok was horrendous. But there was another way to zip through it; enter the grab bikes.

The grab bikes are manned bikes. How’d you like to get on a bike, hug your driver and get to work twice as fast? It depends. If the traffic is as bad as Bangkok then one wouldn’t mind the hugging.

For our next lunch, after exhausting all the meat options we were looking for a vegetarian restaurant near the waters with some quiet.

Na Aroon was a family owned, tasty, an organic vegetarian restaurant that sits close to the canals. It was a traditional Thai house with wooden floors, high ceilings, and large windows. With rustic looks and surrounded by gardens the place was quiet and serene. The Pomelo fruit salad with chilies and cashews were exotic and exceptional.

What could be more pampering than having a person give you their complete attention to making you feel physically good? Nothing. And the service is readily available in all corners of Bangkok. There are both small and big establishments. And one can’t go wrong by picking either one. Yes, Thai massages done properly are divine. And when it comes dirt cheap it is much more satisfying. For a nominal fee of 300 Thai bahts (which comes to around 9 USD), one can get an exceptional Thai massage for two long hours in a quite comfortable and clean environment.

So after a satisfying lunch, we walked over to Health land spa, it was one of those affordable and luxury spas. We were treated like royalty. The therapist took us floor by floor. The first floor was where we swapped our footwear for a comfy slip-on. On the second, our clothes for some loose and soft bathrobes. And, finally, they put us in an air-conditioned room with our own bed and a TV. The next two hours of massaging were nothing but calming and relaxing.

Completely rejuvenated after the massage, we went back to our rooms’ and hit the bed, dreaming about the rest of our Thailand trip. Ready to spend time looking at the limestone mountains and in the warmth of tranquil waters of Railey, Krabi.