#it's so hard to figure out how to enter those other two types of income

[chekhovsdisconnectedwormbell]

I hate filing my taxes >:(

[writingtoforgetreality]

Sleep Paralysis (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: You hated sharing a room with another person. Especially when it came to sleeping. Which usually resulted into you staying awake for the night if you were teamed up with someone. Sometimes you could not escape exhaustion, though.

Words: 2,381

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, insomnia, experiencing sleep paralysis, anxiety, TFATWS spoilers (I don’t think there are any but just to be sure I guess), Zemo awakens the poet in me idk, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The people you found yourself teamed up with gave you safety. Sam, Bucky & even Zemo. With the three of them on your side, you had nothing to fear. Missions with these guys were easy. If the two grown ass men children were not occupied with killing the other grown ass man child. Names were not needed here, that was explanation enough. You were surprised yourself when you started enjoying Zemo’s company. He was a criminal. He was supposed to be the bad guy. So why could you not view him as such? Was it the way he moved his body? Was it his hair which fell in place just perfectly imperfect? Was it his coat that accentuated the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders alone? Was it his smile that was just the tiniest bit bigger whenever he glanced at you? Was it that stupid head tilt thing that was everything but stupid to you? What the hell was it? And why the hell was resisting your urges so damn hard?

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could have sworn that his eyes fell on you, no matter how big the crowd. You could have sworn that his body searched out your presence wherever you went. There was this unspoken thing between you guys. As much as you wanted to address the tension building up, you were apprehensive what your best friends would say about it. You were doubtful how he would receive the news. Your ever growing friendship was at risk. The mere thought of having to live your life without him was inconceivable. How did it work before he came along? It was like your brain erased those memories altogether. Truthfully, he changed your life around without having an idea of the effect he had on you. Or he did know but enjoyed messing with your feelings. Though he did not strike you as that type of man.

Countless nights were spent with you having deep, meaningful conversations. Thanks to those times, you perceived his side of the story. His motives & what drove him to the actions that brought him behind bars in the end. By no means were you trying to justify his crimes. There would have been multiple different ways. Back then, the only purpose for him was revenge. Apologies that came too late were given. Zemo truly was sorry. And while words & emotions could be faked easily, it was impossible to hide the deeper meaning that his eyes held. The softness, the wariness, he could not simulate this. Those beautiful brown orbs were withholding years worth of tears. It was not your position to force him to display his weakness in front of you. Sometimes, simply knowing that another person was available if needed, that was enough.

The same feeling of secureness was provided by him. Your past was not necessarily pleasant either. Innumerable regrets labeled your existence. You were not a good example of a hero. Every day, you contemplated the what-if’s. Overthinking was part of your diurnal routine. All the pondering was needless. The switch only shifted after the beginnings of Zemo’s nocturnal reassurances. Without him, you would still be stuck in that gloomy pit your body had constructed on its own. You two were reliant on each other. Not physically but mentally. Unpretentiously, small touches followed. Brushing his thumbs over your smooth skin on the back of your hand. Squeezing your shoulders gingerly. Goosebumps erupted each time his body warmth was transferred to yours. Whether he wore his leather gloves or not, your body responded with endless fireworks that launched from deep inside.

The hotel you entered radiated wealth. Zemo negotiated the reservations. Which was obvious by the mere impression of the lofty ceilings that were embellished with immense sparkling chandeliers. Your eyes overstrained from the extravagance, switching from one highlight to the next. As a regular citizen, your income denied you such a lifestyle. Avengers did not earn a fortune, this trait came with the job description. Meaning that you would savor every little ticking of your stay. The marvelous high of contentment ceased when the receptionist informed you of an immutable adjustment concerning your room situation. The only two vacant premises were a king size in one & two singles in the other. Apparently, the decision was resolved without you having a say in it. Your questions were answered with a definite proclamation. You were the only soul unable to kill the Baron. Your attempts to conceal your embarrassment were unsuccessful. The smirk adorning Zemo’s features was unhelpful in your current position. Sam & Bucky abandoned you in the entrance, heading off to their room to rest after a tiring mission.

Zemo demanded your luggage to be brought up to your chambers. One of his hands rested on your lower back. This motion warmed your body. It was so simple yet filled with extensive care. It should have been wrong but you have never felt more protected in your entire life. One thing worried you. Sharing a room with the man who brought out your true happiness. It was no secret that you suffered from insomnia. Usually, it vanished after indefinite missions. The interminable flight in Zemo’s private jet added up to your exhaustion. Under no circumstances would you sleep in a room with the Baron. The trust existed, that was not the issue. What happened during your slumber could not be controlled. The tossing, turning, screaming. Nightmares invaded your dreams every time you closed your eyes. Therefore, you obviated sleep as long as possible. Multiple cups of coffee, the heavy does of caffeine every day, aided your wish to stay up. If you narrated a good enough excuse, he would not inquire. At least, that was what you hoped.

Stepping through the tall door into the spacious room, you stopped dead in your tracks. You needed a second to take everything in. Never before had you occupied such a luxurious chamber. It resembled a suite. Different shades of warm colors complemented each other. The vast windows enabled your view of the city beneath. Colorful lights brought the dead of the dim night to life. Facing the stars aligning the somber night sky, Zemo arranged himself next to you. Minutes of silence enveloped you, filling the room to the brink. The man next to you fractured the quietness with whispers. He pointed out various constellations. Observantly, you absorbed his words. He was cultured but never bragged about it. His sentiment of deliberate timing was unique. One of his characteristics was fathoming when to quit talking. Or when it was suitable to speak. Zemo constantly knew how to ease the tension with his thoughtful comments.

“You take the bed. I am content with resting on the couch.” he proposed. As much as you appreciated his deliberation, you pronounced the contrary.

“No, Helmut. I won’t sleep anyway, you can have the bed.” your gentle smile underlined the tiredness emanating from your eyes. He tilted his head to one side, observing your body language.

“You have not rested after our mission yet. Not even during the flight where Sam, James & I slept.” he annotated, worry audible in his voice. Your shoulders lifted in a short shrug. Alleging that you were fine. Spending hours with you concluded to him comprehending your lies. Your features were different whenever you attempted feigning him. Approaching your figure in the barely illuminated room, he halted a few steps away from you. Movements of his hands caught your attention. The gloves were peeled off. Lifting one of his arms, you shivered when his skin touched your cheek affectionately. His fingers caressed your face so lovingly, your eyes closed instinctively. “You are exhausted, darling.” his words were soft, soothing your ears by the fragility of them. The space between you two was narrow. You breathed the same air. His body heat passed onto you. Your heart sped up, almost as if it could break out any second. Nobody had ever made you feel that way. Nodding obediently, Zemo dragged you closer to the soft mattress covered with silk sheets. It was a desired invitation. It did not last long before you gave in. The smooth material welcomed you. Realizing Zemo’s retreating steps, your hand reached for his wrist, freezing his tries. He glanced over his shoulder bewildered.

“Stay.” it was music to his ears, hearing your quiet proposition. Holding himself back, he shook his head briefly. A signal that he did not want to disturb you. “Please.” his face softened at your plea. How could he resist your sweet voice? How could he resist you when it was obvious that you wished for him to stay with you?

“Okay.” pulling back the blankets, he lied right behind you. Your back was facing him. The shock was only brief when your hand searched for his arm. Draping it over your waist, you sighed contently when he embraced you tighter. It was not just what you needed. This, it was required by him as well.

Peaceful hours of cuddling went by without disruption. The calm was interrupted by your eyes snapping open in fear. Your back was against the mattress. Staring at the tall ceiling, your breath quickened when you could not move. Could not talk. Could not scream. There was not a single thing that could be done but you awaited the bad that would arrive soon. It was not the first time you experienced such a situation. The pressure in your chest grew steadily, obstructing your breathing. Your muscles ached, your head pounded. Someone would murder you. If you did not rise soon, death would come knocking on your door. Your attempts to push away the sheets & your labored breath stirred the man next to you awake. His confusion ended when he noticed your struggles. Propping his head onto one of his arms, he scooted closer to your body. Zemo knew what you were going through at the moment. While he had never suffered from such a period himself, he had read about it. Your eyes widened when his locked onto yours. The fear was visible even without a light illuminating the room. His free hand moved to your cheek. In the process, he whispered sweet nothings to you in hopes that they would reach you. Irregular breaths were still very much present. Though you had him with you, your anxiety was acting up still. Your mind was determined that you would die in a few minutes.

“Hey, hey, hey. Darling, look at me.” your eyes slowly shifted from the ceiling to his dark, almost black ones. They were a beautiful shade of brown but it was too sinister to detect the different hues. “There you go.” his voice was steady, controlled. “What you are experiencing is called sleep paralysis. It means that you are awake but your body is asleep still. It will be over soon, I promise. This might feel life threatening to you but I’m here, okay? I am here with you & I will not let anything happen to you.” his eyebrows raised expectantly. The most you could give him was a useless attempt of a nod. His fingers stroked over your skin, bringing you comfort. You were not on your own. Zemo held you close to his body. Still unable to move, the one thing you could feel was his body heat. Minutes without change went by. Affirmations were whispered into the quiet of the ample room. Your leg shuffled the blankets. A small smile crept onto your face. Finally, you had control again. Your muscles were no longer frozen in place. Overwhelmed by the sudden liberty, you embraced Zemo into a tight hug. Reciprocating immediately, he held your head in place in the crook of his neck. His other arm raked around your waist, keeping you as close as possible. He assured you that you were alright. That nobody & nothing could hurt you. Not when he was around. The silent tears rolling down your cheeks were inevitable. They stained his shirt but he could not care less. All that mattered was you overcoming the feeling of uncontrollability. Maybe it was his explanation. Or his proximity. Or his sweet words calming you down. In the end, the cause was insignificant. Zemo helped you through this & there were no words to express your gratitude to him.

Pulling away slightly, he rested his forehead against yours. You mimicked his deep breaths, disposing of the last bits of worry. When you were in his presence, it was gratuitous to be fearful. Demons had no chance. Not when it came to Zemo. The next reaction came naturally. This time, you did not fight the urge to press your lips onto his. You took his breath away by the unexpected action. There were no complaints from his side. Both hands rested on your face, bringing you closer if it was even feasible. In your imagination, you recalled kissing Zemo to be heated. This right now was the exact opposite. No words could depict what emotions were rushing through your entire body. Descriptions were useless if you could demonstrate it with a simple kiss. After it ended, silence sheathed you two once again. It was everything but unpleasant. He kept holding onto you. Zemo would never judge you because of nightmares or similar occurrences. Your head rested on his chest, above his heart. The beat calming your nerves even further. Explaining that you had always suffered from the monsters of the night, he did not interrupt. You needed to confide & he was more than happy to be available. Another soft kiss was pressed on top of your head. A content sigh left your lips. Zemo assured you that he would stay, no matter what. He was in this for good. Whatever this was. Time would clarify the relationship between you two. All you knew was that it felt right. Having him close to you. Having him as your protector. Having him to brighten up your days. Simply having him. That was adequate. That was your unspoken wish. You expected a lot but you did not expect the fulfillment of a previous unknown dream. You were home.

Published (04/21/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @eristudytime, @hiraethmaximoff, @incansas, @fionanovasleftnut, @mundaytuesday, @ashamed23, @pedropascallovebot, @kpoptrash2000, @lulu-yuming, @bibliophilewednesday, @arctic--ash, @mischiefmanaged71, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @tatooineisdry, @obsidian-queen, @h0ly-fire, @dxnxdjarxn (thanks for your support <3)

[finleyfray]

Damnation

TW: dying, language

Finley sighs as she crashes down on her bed. It was late in the afternoon and she had a half hour break before she needed to go to work. She is tired after the whole day of classes. Lately she was so busy she didn’t even see her girlfriends for two weeks. Fin was living alone, so she had to work hard to be able to pay for her rent and food. Besides this, she was also in her last year at university. 

Those two activities took all of her time and while she tried so hard to make it work, she knew Alex and Maggie were very irritated with her lack of time to meet them and do something together. She promised them she’s gonna have a day off soon, but this was a month ago, and Finley really couldn’t afford a day off. Her rent price went higher last month and now she has to work extra hours to be able to pay for it.

Finley hides her head in her hands. She really misses her girlfriends. It’s only been 10 months that they’re dating, and they haven't even told each other “I love you" yet, but Fin realised that a while back. She loves them and she really wants to spend the rest of her life with them. 

Her phone rings and Finley picks it up. 

“Hey" Fin smiles as she hears Alex’s voice. “Can we come over for a second? We want to tell you something.” She frowns at Alex’s cold voice.

“Hi babe. I would love to but I have to go to work in half an hour.”

“That’s nothing new. Okay, we tried to talk with you, to maybe try and find another way. But I'm done with constant excuses. I’m putting you on speaker."

“What’s wrong?” Finley’s heart beats fast as she tries to suppress anxiety inside her. This doesn’t sound like the Alex she knows. 

“We talked a lot.” She hears Maggie's voice. “And we are really tired. You never have time for us, and it looks like there’s only me and Alex. So we might as well just be like that.”

“What do you mean?” Fin asks with a trembling voice. 

“We are breaking up with you.” 

“What?” She gasps. 

“Yeah. Sorry. We can’t go on like that. You never have time.”

“No, wait, don’t do that, I’ll make time, just give me one more chance, please...” Finley panickes. This can't be happening. After everything, they just decide she wasn't worth it… The woman feels anger inside her. Mixed with pain and sadness, but mostly anger. She hangs up and throws her phone against the wall. Her phone crashes and lands on the floor. Screw that. 

The black-haired woman stands up and goes to the elevator. She still needs to pay for her bills even when she was just dumped. She pushes the button to go down, but she never arrives at work. 

***

Finley opens her eyes and looks around her. She was in a dark room with chains around her wrists and ankles. Last thing she remembers was going into the elevator and then she felt a sharp pain in her head and she was out cold.

The blue-eyed woman has no idea why she was kidnapped. She wasn't any special, she was just working in a restaurant and in the shop and she went to the school. Work… she didn't arrive. Pretty sure they'll just fire her. 

She hears footsteps and tries to locate the people that were approaching. Even in this weird situation, Finley wasn't scared. Safe to say, she didn't even care.

"Good to see you awake. My goons might've hit your head a bit too much." She watches as the older woman enters the room, together with two men. 

"And who are you exactly? And why am I even here?" Fin looks at her confused.

"Lillian Luthor, and you're here to give me kryptonite." The woman spoke and Finley laughed. 

"Give you what? I don't even know what that is, I'm just a student, can't give you anything." 

"You can't, but your girlfriend can. See, I watched you for a while, and looks like you're the one I had to get to make Agent Danvers give me kryptonite from DEO. So now I'll call them, tell them we can exchange, they bring me kryptonite, you walk free." The woman circled her with a phone in her hand.

"Which girlfriend, what do you mean DEO? Also I hate to break it to you but that won't work. They broke up with me, I don't mean anything to them and I'm pretty sure they won't trade anything for me." The black-haired woman huffs and Lillian smiles. She taps on her phone and Finley screams with pain as electricity rushes through her.

***

Alex sighs as she looks at Maggie. She tries her best to not give away her sadness. Her girlfriend looks at her and gently cups her cheek. 

"Talk to me." 

"We shouldn't have. I don't want to lose her. This was a stupid idea. We got so mad when she said she doesn't have time… We shouldn't break up with her. We have to try and fix it." The redhead looks at the floor, her eyes wet and Maggie sighs. 

"You're right. Come on, she should be home already. We try once more, but Alex, if it doesn't work… I'm tired of having a girlfriend I don't actually have." 

"I know Maggs, but… I love her… Yea, it was hard the last few months… And we didn't even go that far in this relationship. But can you remember the time before it went to shit? Her smile that lights up the whole room? The way she checks on you after she knows you had a rough day at NCPD? The way she always knows what to say to make us laugh and feel better? The way she looks at us like we're the most important people in her life? How she says she's proud of us for doing all we can to protect this city. Even though she doesn't know I work for the DEO but thinks I work for the FBI. Maggie, I'm not ready to give her up and I know you aren't either."

"You're right." The raven-haired woman whispers and gently wipes away her girlfriend's tears at the same time blinking her eyes to get rid of her own tears. "We have to figure it out. We can't lose her. While we were a couple, don't get me wrong, I love you, but there was always something missing. And when we met Finley… It felt whole again. We stopped arguing that much. She's like a glue that holds us together. We have a lot to work on but I really think we have to try." 

"Let's get our girl back." 

They both rushed to Finley's apartament and knocked. 

"Finley, please open the door, we want to talk." Alex knocks on the door but she's met with silence. They wait a bit and knock a few more times but there's no response. 

"Use the spare key?" Maggie proposes and the redhead nods, taking out the key Fin gave them a while ago in case something happens. The agent opens the door and calls out. They go to the small room and look around.

"Finley's not here." Alex sighs and watches as Maggie goes to the wall and picks up a broken phone. "I think she was angry. Maybe she's still at work?"

They check the work but the manager tells them Finley never arrived to work. After hearing that, they begin to panic. It was not like her to miss her work. Alex takes them to the DEO and they ask Winn to look for any monitors around her living and work place. It doesn't help that Finley lives in one of the worst places in the whole city, they don't have any monitoring system. Alex calls her sister and Kara arrives in a minute. They're about to send her to patrol when Winn yells.

"We have an incoming transmission. Agent Danvers, you want me to put it through?"

"Yes. Put it through and track it immediately."

"...up with me, I don't mean anything to them and I'm pretty sure they won't trade anything for me." Alex gasps as she hears Finley's voice. Maggie goes to her and she clenches her fist.

"Luthor." She growls. She watches as Lillian pushes a button on her phone and their girlfriend screams in pain. "Let her go!"

"Looks like the transmission is one sided. They can't hear us. We can only see them." 

 --

Finley gasps as she finally breathes. Every muscle in her body hurts. 

"Fucking hell! I told you they won't give you anything, you stupid bitch!" 

"Oh my dear, of course they will." Fin tried to look at the woman but another rush of pain went through her. "They will give me the Kryptonite once they realise they can't track us." 

"Just fucking shoot me already! I told you, they don't care, just get it over with." 

"I can shoot her ma'am." She heard one of the men saying enthusiastically. 

"Stand down Barnes, this is not the plan." Lillian said and Fin smiled, she forced herself to look up at the man.

"Yea, stand down. Good dog. Bet you don't even know how to fucking shoot, don't ya Barnes? Woof woof." Finley laughs trying to make the man angry. He doesn't look too smart, if he loses control, he'll shoot her. "Good obedient fucking dog." 

"Barnes no!" Lillian tries to stop him but it's too late, he fires 3 times and Finley stops moving.

--

"Fucking hell! I told you they won't give you anything, you stupid bitch!" 

Alex curses and looks at the screen. 

"What the hell is she doing!? She should stay quiet, not enrage Lillian more!?" Her girlfriend screams.

"Oh my dear, of course they will." The redhead winces as she hears their girlfriends screams. "They will give me the Kryptonite once they realise they can't track us." 

The agent looks at Winn but he sadly shakes his head. 

"I have nothing yet." He gets back to typing on his computer. 

"Just fucking shoot me already! I told you, they don't care, just get it over with." 

"No, no, Finley, no! Please, no, we do care, don't provoke them." Maggie sobs as she grabs the desk tightly.

"I can shoot her ma'am." 

"Stand down Barnes, this is not the plan." 

They look at the screen and Alex sees Finley reise her head. 

"No! Don't do it, Fin!" She feels it. She feels it with everything that her girlfriend is about to do something stupid.

"Yea, stand down. Good dog. Bet you don't even know how to fucking shoot, don't ya Barnes? Woof woof. Good obedient fucking dog." 

"Barnes no!" 

They hear Lillian scream and then 3 gunshots. They all hold their breath and look as Finley stops breathing. 

"You stupid fool!" It's all they hear and transmission stops. Alex feels herself falling to the ground and Maggie tries to hold her.

"Finley!" The redhead sobs as her girlfriend hugs her tightly, sobs escaping both of them. She can't believe it. It's all their fault. They made her believe they don't care and she felt like she didn't have anything to fight for. It was their fault.

Two days later they held a small funeral for their girlfriend. They couldn't find the body so the casket remained empty. Lena apologizes to them a hundred times. They know it's not her fault, but they still can't believe what happened. It was their fault and the only reason Finley is dead is because of their stupid idea. 

***

Finley gasps as she shoots up to the sitting position. She looks around, she's still in the same room, but there's no one here anymore. This dying was really exhausting. The black-haired woman thought that after dying so many times, she'll be used to it. She doesn't even know where she is. At least Lillian was "kind" enough to let her free from chains. 

Fin looks at her watch to see the date. Four days passed since the day their girlfriends broke up with her. She sighs and finds her way out. Looking at her shirt stained with blood she doesn't have any other option than to ask someone where she is. 

After 4 hours of travelling, Finley finds herself by the door of her apartment. The door isn't locked, but she remembers locking it. She opens the door and in two seconds she's pinned by the door by Kara. Who knew the little blonde had this much power.

"Who are you!?" She growls and Fin sees her girlfriends, ex-girlfriends coming behind her. Their faces pale as if they've seen a ghost. 

"Let me go, what the hell! You can't attack me inside my own house like that!" 

"This isn't your house, this is Fin's house. And she died. So who are you and why are you looking like her!?" She hears Alex growling. "Let's take this impostor to the DEO for interrogation."

Before she had any chance to say anything, Kara flew her to some kind of underground base and tossed her inside a cell. 

"For fucks sake, I am Finley! Let me go, Kara!" 

One thing was Kara, that she could fly and had so much power. Another thing was them locking her up in a cell. She looks at the blonde seeing tears in the corner of her eyes and she turns around and flies out of the room. 

Few minutes later her two ex-girlfriends and Supergirl enter the room. 

"Of course, you're Supergirl. It makes more sense now. And you're what?" She looks at Alex in the same outfit she wears normally to her work. 

"Agent Danvers, Department of Extranormal Operations and this is Detective Sawyer, NCPD."

"Well obviously, I know who you are, I am not stupid. We used to date, remember? Like you broke up with me 4 days ago. I might have trouble with my memory, but I am not an idiot!" 

"Who are you!?" Maggie asks, she looks as if she was on the edge.

"I am Finley. Like you can see it. Like obviously, I'm Fin!" 

"You died!"

"How do you know I died? You weren't there?"

"We saw you dying! You were shot three times!" Alex yelled.

"Yes, see, I know." Fin points at her shirt.

"Then who are you? You're a white Martian?"

"Uhhh, what? No, I am Finley! I am immortal, I can't die!"

"We saw you dying…." 

"Sure, I die but then I wake up after my wounds heal and I'm alive again!" Finley screams irritated.

"This is bullshit! Supergirl, did you get J'onn on the phone?" The redhead asks Kara.

"Yea, he's already flying here. He'll be here any minute and then we'll know who's hiding inside Finley's body." The blonde looks at her sister. "Let's get out of here." They go out and Finley sighs. Nothing else she can do then to wait for that J'onn guy.

--

After J'onn, who Fin found out is director of DEO, read her mind and confirmed that she indeed is herself, she was let out of the cell. Two pairs of arms circled her.

"We thought you were dead…" Alex sobbed. 

Fin closes her eyes and mutters.

"I didn't know that. I thought you didn't care anymore."

"Of course we care!" Maggie huffes while wiping away her tears. "We went to your house to apologise and talk it out but you weren't there… We asked Winn to look for any street footage but there was nothing. And then Lillian transmission… We watched you die!" The raven-haired woman sobs. "We're so sorry Finnie… We got mad at you, but we shouldn't break up… And then we watched you die… We can't lose you."

Finely looks at them while wiping away her own tears. She closes her eyes. 

We're they honest? She sees them now, crying, apologising. But once everything goes back to normal… Will they still stay, or will they run away yet again.

"I understand you're sorry. I am too. I wasn't avoiding you, I was so busy, trying to maintain work and uni. But will you still stay while I will be busy yet again?"

"Finley… you're dead… officially… We pronounced you dead. You can't go back to your old life."

"What!?" Finley screams as she steps back and looks at them. "Why!?"

"Well, you died! How were we supposed to know you're not really dead?" Alex looks at her as if she told her the time.

"I died 75 times and never once did I lose my identity! What do I do now!?" 

"Seventy-five times!?" Her girlfriends look at her in shock.

"Yea, my dad used to kill me for fun. It doesn’t matter now! Who am I now. What do I do now?" 

"We can get you a new identity." The director enters the room.

"I would have to search for work again! Go through 2 years of university again! I don't have the energy to do it again." Fin sobs and looks at the ground.

"I can offer you a job here at the DEO. Your abilities would be very useful and you would train with agent Danvers. If you want, of course." The man nods. "I'll let you think and talk about it. Let me know what you decide."

Finley thought about it. It wasn't a bad offer. Sure, she wasn't ever planning on working for a secret government agency, but is really someone planning that?

She looks at her girlfriends… Ex girlfriends…? Girlfriends? But they look at her too, waiting for her decision.

"Well…"

[jooniperhun]

The End of the Rainbow (2)

pairing: tall!black!reader x bts, poc!reader x bts, woc!reader x bts, black!reader x bts

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to (maybe) lovers, romance, comedy, misunderstandings, (slight) angst, smut (maybe??), idol!au

word count: 3.8k

rating: PG-16

warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety

notes: slight sub! namjoon in here... sorry, it just wrote itself in lol

summary: Your current job as a travelling housesitter has taken you to many places, some strange and many wonderful. When the acquisition of a new client takes you to Korea for three months, you wonder if your self-esteem can survive being around so many other-worldly looking people. Also, not to be paranoid or anything, but maybeperhaps you’re being stalked by the same seven strangers? They’re pretty loud and always surrounded by a tonne of people, so you write it off the first few times.

But this shit is getting excessive, chile. And annoying…

Rhetorical question, but what lies at the end of a rainbow? You hope that it’s a pot of gold, but with the way that your luck has soured, it might just be seven short(er than you), rowdy leprechauns ready to flip your world sideways…

Chapter 1

She was going on her first social outing in Korea (the source of the K-Dramas that she loved so much that she ended up learning the language), and ___ would make damn sure that she looked her best during it. 

Rounding her top lip out by lining over her cupid’s bow then filling the lip in, ___ took her concealer and ensured that her lip-liner wasn’t a crooked mess. That task done, she swabbed a glob of lipgloss across her lips, rubbed them together, then applied her fake moles. The cool mist of setting spray wafted over her face.

___ smiled at herself in the mirror, happy with her appearance and checking to make sure that nothing was in her teeth. Her 18mm minks blinked back at her, lightly brushing the tops of her blushed cheeks. She hadn’t done The Most™ this time, as her revered 25mms were still preserved within their cases, but her face was still Beat For The Gods™.

Her ripped, highwaisted jeans pinched a bit at the fatty flesh that peeked between her belt and the edge of her cropped top, but she had long-since grown used to this sight. In fact, she had even come to love that part of herself. She was jiggly in places, and that was a-okay. 

As she still had some time before she had to leave to catch her train, she decided to kill it by locating the window that let the most sunlight in and taking pictures there. It wasn’t golden hour, as it was one in the afternoon, but the lighting was just right, regardless. The contrast between the cool, sophisticated tones of her room and the browns in her clothing and skin made for some immaculate self portraits. 

___ had long since learned to become her own photographer, as her height was a bit too tall for any modeling agencies to want to even consider her. Not to mention that her status as a black woman made opportunities just that much harder for her to procure. Yet, even with years of experience, self-modeling was still a bit awkward for her, and that translated in quite a few of the pictures that she had taken.

In the end, after she had ensured that the house keys and her wallet were in her purse and that Mickey had enough food and water to tide his cute little self over while she was gone, many of her pictures had been deleted in between her stepping foot out of the house and her ride to Times Square Mall. 

She was so invested in her phone screen on the train that she didn’t even notice the many stares that she gathered. From her large, beautiful afro to the mile-long length of her shapely legs, many native Koreans took in the rich, alluring aura of the black woman for the first time in their lives. The fact that her face was set in it’s usual intimidating expression was the only thing that put them all off of bothering her.

She was going to this mall mainly to see the world’s largest cinema screen, but the arcades and plentiful high-class stores also appealed (respectively) to her childish and bougie sides. Even though ___ knew that she was gonna do a whole lotta window shopping (her expensive tastes and her income didn’t correlate), she was quite ready to blow a lot of cash during her entire 3 month stay here.

Stepping off of the train and into the subway, ___ had never felt as small and alone as she did then, surrounded by all of these people who didn’t look like her. Not for the first time since she’s started the whole ‘cross-country housesitter’ stint, ___ wished that she had a friend with her. Alas, she was currently chasing a bag, and since it comes with all of the free travel and awesome cultural immersion, something had to be compromised. In this case, ___ would just have to try to make friends while she was here, but she’s not really all that hopeful of that outcome, what with her slight social anxiety and all.

Speaking of which, it was currently flaring up as she squinted at the signs, trying to navigate herself through the crush and towards the upper mall. Somehow, she ended up outside and in front of the large, intimidating buildings made of glass. The mall was so big that it had to be split into Gates, like at the airport. Taking note of the gate number that she was entering and hoping that she’d be able to find her way back to the train station from there, ___ stumbled through the spinning doors and immediately went about locating a map.

The noise inside was deafening, as it tended to be in malls. While the majority of the people inside were Korean, foreigners lulled about as well. It made ___ feel a little less alien, though the way that she towered over most of them subtracted a bit from that. Subconsciously, she started sucking her stomach in, which let up a bit on the pressure from her jeans and shifted the gait of her walk into something less relaxed and more confident. 

___’s first task was to find where the cinema was, as her movie was scheduled in an hour and a bit and she didn’t want to miss it by looking for it last minute. Luckily, the maps were in abundance and pretty easy to read. She decided to spend her time exploring the place by slowly making her way up the five floors. The first store that she went into had a strange, yet forgettable, name. It was a large department store with many women and children strolling along the walkways. Tables and shelves, almost overflowing with neat stacks of books, formed little islands. Between them, the polished, blank screens of electronic devices shone. The store didn’t really have anything that piqued her interest, so she ended up leaving pretty quickly.

This was the trend for the rest of her leisurely walk around two of the five floors that the mall had. On the third, something finally caught her attention— a small cafe tucked around the corner of the many cosmetic stores on the floor.

Walking in felt like stepping into a cozy, surreal painting. The scent of freshly grounded coffee beans wafted through the air and intertwined with the sweet aroma of baked pastries. Dark wood set in warm-toned cushioning curled around the shop, creating such a warm, homely atmosphere that ___ felt like she had stepped into an entirely different world. Already, several people were seated with cups of their own beverages and plates full of cakes and other desserts. Some were patiently waiting in line, face-masks pulled up and glasses perched on noses. A few people lounged in their respective areas with books in hand. Some were seated at the small dining tables, typing away on their laptops. Others chatted quietly with one another.

Somehow, the hustle and bustle of mall life grew hushed and muted in this small, quiet corner. 

The soft crinkling of pages being turned accompanied ___ on her way to the line. Already, she could taste the sweet, milky flavor of her boba contrasting with the sharp coffee of tapioca pearls. 

Across the room, dark eyes trailed her figure. Her wardrobe of choice and the rich tones of her skin made her fit seamlessly into the shop. As hard as he tried to pull his eyes away from the stone-faced beauty and back to his book, Namjoon found that he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was the swing of her hips or the bounce of her voluminous hair that kept drawing his attention, but he knew that he had to kill whatever thoughts he was having, and quickly. 

Simply put, Namjoon didn’t have the time to go fraternizing with a virtual stranger. He had seen many beautiful women in his time as an idol travelling the world, and he knew better than anyone how time consuming even a simple one night stand could be. Before he even approached someone, he had to think about how any leaked information could damage the group’s reputation. And then he had to think about preventative measures to make sure anything like that didn’t happen, and actually carry those measures out. Even though most of the legal stuff like NDA’s and other contracts were handled by the company, sasaengs were still everywhere. All it took was one picture of his naked, turned back, and they would be on him and his brothers like a particularly stealthy group of leeches.

Not to mention, Namjoon was not a man with many earthly desires— at least, not anymore. He preferred to spend his time out in nature or in museums, either with or without a book, in search of a higher understanding of himself and of consciousness. Time was very precious to idols as busy as BTS because very rarely did they ever get any outside of the judging lenses of cameras or people. How the other members wanted to spend their free time was up to them, but Namjoon would prefer to spend his either in silence, or with his brothers in silence. 

And yet, his gaze continued to stray towards ___ as she moved forward in line. The music sweetly crooning from his airpods didn’t help the matter any farther, either. If anything, it set his own atmosphere to ‘romance’, rather than the initial ‘chill and relaxed’ he was going for. 

Now at the front, she visibly towered over the cashier, long limbed and slightly awkward in the way that only tall people could be. 

“H-how can I help you today, ma’am?” The dark-haired cashier stuttered, looking up at her warily and carefully avoiding her eyes. While she had served many foreigners in her years working at the mall, blank faced people were always a wild card. Sometimes they were extremely rude. Other times, they were perfectly polite. She could never tell with them, unfortunately, and, with the way ___’s face already punted her into the ‘scary’ category, her not inconsiderable height added to the cashier’s wariness as well.

However, all it took was one smile in greeting to crack her icy demeanor into thousands of tiny, little pieces. The sharp slant of her dark eyes, relaxed into narrowed slits that mirrored aloofness and displeasure, curved into merry arcs framed by lashes that brushed the flush of her cheeks. Her full lips, naturally slightly tilted down and shimmering with gloss, stretched upwards into a sweet smile. The plumpness in her cheeks swelled at their highest points beneath her eyes, transforming her face into something soft and honeyed, like dough. 

Suddenly, ___ was too adorable to look away from. 

“One bubble tea (originally flavored) and…” here, ___’s eyes swept across the cafe, briefly glancing over Namjoon (who’s table only had a single book, his airpods case, and his phone on it) in search of a snack to eat, “a slice of whatever that guy over there is eating, please.” ___’s voice, at a slightly lower register than usual as a result of disuse, gently filtered into Namjoon’s area. She had pointed in the direction of a nearby table with two young men calmly chatting with each other. Only one had an actual plate with food on it; the other had a single cookie loosely clutched in his hand. A wrapper divided the table between them. The cake in question was multilayered and looked as if each fluffy partition would dissolve satisfyingly on the tongue.

The cashier, with relief, went about her job of ringing ___ up and making sure that the order was received by the barista. ___ held the straps of her purse tightly to stop her hands from shaking too badly, feeling anxious being surrounded by strangers in such a private environment. She moved to where she could pick her order up and waited in the smaller line there, pulling out her phone and pretending to be busy so that people didn’t think that she was a total loser with no friends.

She felt the familiar prickling in her eyes that occurred whenever she felt embarrassed or overwhelmed, absentmindedly scrolling through her photo gallery and mentally trying to will the emotion away. It felt like everyone was watching her, which made her feel very exposed and self-conscious. She had to remind herself, over and over again as she briefly glanced around the vicinity, that everyone else was too caught up in their own lives to be paying her any attention.

Except for Kim Namjoon, who’s identity remained concealed behind his large, dark shades and fitted, dark mask. He considered just leaving the little sanctuary that he had carved out for himself here, as he kept getting distracted with ___ being directly within his line of sight. And, if he was being honest with himself, it was only a matter of time before a fan recognized him (disguise and all, with how often some of them watched him).

Still, Namjoon found himself glued to his seat, watching as ___ received the tray with her order and glanced around to find an unoccupied table. The only vacancies small enough to seat just one person without it looking weird were... in the area that he had secluded himself within. 

She took slow, slightly hesitant steps in his direction, carefully keeping her back straight and her hands as steady as she could get them in case her purse slid down from her shoulder and jostled the tray. 

Who the hell wears shades indoors? ___ asked herself as she passed Namjoon and settled into a seat behind him. Wait, that’s kinda insensitive. He could be bli— then, she peeped the edges of the whole ass book in his hands and stopped her train of thought. What are the chances that that book is in braille, though? 

Not wanting to be offensive, even in her own thoughts, ___ stopped thinking entirely to reorganize herself at the table. She perched her purse in her lap and dug her phone out of it’s confines, rooting around for her airpods while she was at it. If she was gonna be alone in this large ass mall, she was at least gonna be alone in style and rhythm. 

Her airpod case had a cute little sunflower pattern on it. She stuck both of her small, stickered airpods into her ears and started her music, pulling her camera app up and snapping a quick picture of her snack before taking her first bite. 

Her eyes almost rolled back at the taste.

I just know that if this shop was any closer to the house, my fat ass would be in this bitch every day.

The cake slice was gone with a quickness. If she wasn’t saving her stomach until she got to the food court, ___ would have definitely gone to order another. She pushed the tray with the dishes into the empty space on the table and grabbed her boba. The mellow flavor worked wonders to relax her as she scrolled through her photo gallery, editing the pictures that she had approved of earlier on the train.

Her little bubble of contented solitude wavered when Namjoon shifted into a stretch, popping his tensed joints and rolling his ankles around. He was still trying to recover from her scent’s surprise attack on his nose. When she had walked past him, it was like a bomb of cocoa butter and coconut went off, blending almost sinfully with the rich aroma of coffee and the sweet undercurrent of baked bread. 

This guy is giving me major creeper vibes, ___’s thoughts went back to the stranger again after his movement caught her eye. Even when her attention went back to fixing the lighting in one of her photos, some of her focus was still on him.

Of course, there wasn’t a day in Namjoon’s life when he didn’t do something embarrassing as a result of his own clumsiness. Overconfident in the integrity of his chair’s balance while he leaned back and stretched to his fullest extent, he was in for quite the shock when he tipped over with a mighty crash! 

His book went soaring through the air behind him, sliding to a stop at ___’s foot.

___, who has just placed one of her airpods on the table as she dug through her purse to better listen out for the jingling of her small makeup bag, jumped in surprise, jostling the table and sending her airpod flying in Namjoon’s direction.

It hit him in the head and knocked his own airpod out of his ear, as well. One rolled to the floor and skittered away. The other got lost somewhere between his face and his clothes. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and stopped awkwardly at his top lip, stuck. 

The quiet shop went even quieter. People’s heads began turning in their direction.

Namjoon froze, and slowly, his face began to fill with red. A man dressed nondescriptly in black stuck his head in from the cafe entrance, looking for the source of the sudden noise. He began making his way towards his charge once he got a proper grasp on the situation, pulling his walkie-talkie out and silently mummering into it: “All clear, here. Just Kim-ssi being clumsy. Have medics on stand-by, just in case he or anyone else is hurt.”

Before, ___ had only been able to see the broad expanse of his back and his biceps shifting as he flipped to a new page. Now, with half of his face exposed and his eyes staring straight up at her in mortified shock, ___… still couldn’t really say much about his features. He was upside down and still pretty concealed, after all. What patches of skin she could see were quickly turning deeper and deeper shades of vermillion. It was weirdly... cute.

“Um… are you okay, hun?” ___ asked with a pointed, concerned look. Her voice, still low and smooth like velvet, ran subtle waves across Namjoon’s ears. She placed her bag aside and slipped out of her seat, reaching down to grab the book at her feet and walking over to where he was lying prone on the ground.

By the time she had reached him to help him up, his bodyguard had as well. He attempted to block her from going any further as he pulled him up to his feet, but ___ was simply too tall for that to be effective. Namjoon felt himself beginning to curl inwards with all the eyes still on him, but easily suppressed the reflex with his years of 1) being a professional at concealing his emotions, and 2) embarrassing himself on camera.

“Haha, sorry guys. I’m a bit clumsy sometimes.” He bowed to the shop and rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.

“Kim-ssi, are you hurt anywhere?” The bodyguard asked. It took ___ a bit to remember that people were usually addressed by their last names in East Asia, as she had really questioned if the guy in front of her was really named ‘Kim.’

“No, really— that was a pretty loud fall.” She peeked out from above the manager’s head, still holding his book. The only thing on her mind was returning it and retrieving her airpod once he affirmed that he was a-okay.

“Oh— y-yeah, I’m okay. I-I’m used to stuff like this so I can’t really feel it anymore? Sorry about all the noise, haha.” He gave an awkward little laugh (—and probably an awkward little smile, but that remained unseen), shyly rubbing his neck again and making an aborted motion to cover his mouth with his hands before he remembered that it was already covered with a tiny strip of cloth. Inwardly, he cursed himself for stuttering. That was one of the largest tells of nervousness!

___ didn’t really pay his flustered fluttering any mind, however. She slipped around the man standing in front of her and held his book out towards him with a toothy grin. “I felt that. I stub this one toe of mine so often that I don’t even flinch anymore. Anyways, here’s your book.”

Her closer proximity suddenly made Namjoon realize that he had to look up to meet her eyes, and it made his increasingly rattled behavior even worse. To think that he had just begun to calm down, too...

“A-ah, thanks.” Even his fingertips were red as he reached out to accept his book back, but he could luckily just play that off as a slight stinging left over from his date with the floor. “I think something hit me in the head earlier, too, and it knocked my airpod straight out of my ear.”

___’s eyes widened as she subconsciously reached up to touch the ear that still had music lowly puttering into it. “I’m so sorry!” Here, she gave a quick, shallow bow. “I think that was actually my airpod! The sudden noise shocked me so badly that I accidentally knocked it off of my table!” Suddenly, it was her turn to look embarrassed. 

Okay, I’m ready to leave. That’s enough embarrassing yourself for one day, girl! She thought to herself, already beginning to scour the floors for her missing appliance.

“This is slightly awkward to ask, but have you seen it since it hit you? It has a little sunflower sticker on—”

When she turned her attention back to him, she found his bodyguard already beginning to usher him in the direction of the exit, uncaring that the tiny little music device that she spent an arm and a leg on was still missing.

“Okay, that’s just fucking rude.” ___ muttered in English, dropping her formal tone and proper pronunciation as she righted the weird guy’s upturned chair and continued her search alone. Luckily, the small dab of white was easily distinguished against the dark, hard-wood flooring of the cafe. She’d have to clean it thoroughly when she got back to the house. For now, she’d have to settle with the unbalanced feeling of having just one in her ear. Slightly irritating, but doable. 

Unbeknownst to her, Namjoon’s keen hearing caught her judgemental words and the ignominy almost crushed him. How many times had he embarrassed himself in front of the pretty girl, already??? Too many times to count.

He’d never live it down if the guys got wind of this, but there was no bigger gossip than a Bighit staff member. Sometime within the week, his business would be someone’s morning discussion. He reached up to adjust his dark gray beanie, pulling the edges over his ears to hide the reddening tips.

Tangled in the excess fabric of his high necked shirt, a single airpod with a sunflower sticker hid.

[gricencchos]

In fear lies deceit. | seteth & f!byleth

Closed starter for @ashenprofessor | authority +1

The situation in Faerghus revolving around Duke Philip had been worrying Seteth from the very beginning, even before it became out of control. It was beyond any rebellion or spreading disease, rather it was as if some dark force was possessing the villagers and later bringing them to their death. He already made it quite clear for all guards, faculty and knights of the monastery to not allow Flayn to go to the Kingdom- even if her healing prowess would be of great help. Not knowing who or what was behind the villagers’ strange behaviour was more than enough for him, after all if it was a person then they could become interested in her blood for their schemes and if it was a new type of disease then he wasn’t going to risk having his sister be infected.

But regardless, the situation had been nothing more than a headache to deal with. The reports he received had little information and most was at best vague, some groups tasked with investigating had to be paralyzed because of the kingdom’s fierce blizzards which only stalled things further, and even the Golden Deer house’s efforts weren’t enough for him or Rhea to truly put something together.

Then, almost on a snap, things went out of control. The infection- whatever it was, began to spread rapidly and people became increasingly violent. Suddenly, it was far too dangerous to allow the students to handle the situation and the Academy opted for a recalling order so that faculty and the Knights of Seiros could be deployed. It was a matter they had to take care of with their own hands now.

While the knights and most of the monastery’s healers were tending to the brunt of the problem, a few officials were tasked with interviewing locals and investigating what truly was going on- adding pressure if necessary. This was the situation Seteth found himself in accompanied by the esteemed professor of the Blue Lions, Byleth. 

Although this was no time for bonding, the man figured it would be a nice opportunity to witness how the ex-mercenary operated outside of battle. Perhaps he could then come to understand her for better or worse.

Their path leads towards a series of scattered houses, a bit distant from the village where everything began. The atmosphere was ominous and quiet, as not even animals seemed to be around- all most likely kept inside barns and stables for their safety...or at worse, dead. Atop a small hill was a tiny wooden farmhouse, its structure fortified with stones and boulders as snow began to cake its roof. The group’s boots crunched against permafrost and dead grass, one of the only sounds echoing in the area.

Seteth stopped in his tracks and turned around, facing those accompanying him. It was Byleth, two knights and one healer.

     “I and the professor will be entering the house in hopes of asking whoever lives there for information. It was confirmed in reports that it is not abandoned and hopefully its inhabitants are still alive and well inside.” Some houses were mapped out, others weren’t. However it wasn't too hard to tell which were abandoned.

     “While we search, you three shall be on standby and patrol the house’s immediate surroundings for any incoming infected villager or monster.” The trio replied with a loud ‘yes sir’.

     “As for you, be aware that we might request your assistance if the people inside the house are injured or unwell.” The young healer nodded confidently, grasping her staff tighter.

Seteth sighed as he turned his attention to Byleth. “We will be going there primarily to ask questions, but do not let your guard down.” It was most likely an instruction the professor was long aware of, but it didn’t hurt to put up a reminder. Seteth himself was armed with an iron axe, the weapon safely clipped to this belt. "Let us go.” 

Viridian locks swayed gently in the cold breeze as Seteth made his way through the farmhouse’s stone steps, halting once he reached the door. Two firm knocks.

     “Good afternoon, this is the Church of Seiros. Kindly show yourself.”

Silence.

He raised one hand to knock again, but the door was suddenly opened- revealing a woman. Dressed in simple clothes and furs that were most likely hunted rather than bought, her complexion was on the weaker side and her dark hair was held up in a messy bun. She seemed to be almost trying to hide behind the door, shoulders turned inward and her body language screaming insecurity.

Seteth raised a brow, but for now he assumed her behaviour was out of fear from the plague.

“Y-Yes?” She asked in a small voice. “Oh..uhm...please, come in.”

[artificialqueens]

End of the Day (Crystal x Gigi) - Ashley

A/N: The plan was simple. All Crystal had to do was pretend to be her twin for one week: sit silently in seminars, only leave her room for her basic necessities and stick closely to the set of rules she was left with. Only the rule that stated she “mustn’t bother the bitch from downstairs” became a lot harder for Crystal to follow once she had laid eyes on Gigi Goode.

Hope you guys like this!! Think of it as Breakfast at Tiffany’s meets She’s the Man only at a Russell Group where there’s a stereotype around every corner. Sending infinite thank you’s to Meggie for being a fab beta. p.s thanks so much for all the lovely feedback for Everything Has Changed (I could have cried reading some of it)…xoxo Ashley.

“No way.” Crystal dropped the pencil she toyed with, a laugh squeaking out of her throat at her sister’s audacity.

“It’s only a week,” she pleaded over the phone, the voice that had convinced Crystal to do stupid things since they were children making its reappearance.

“You seriously want me to pretend to be you just so you can jet off to Majorca to see that creep?” 

“Yes!” Elle ignored Crystal’s clear disdain. “That is exactly what I want. We used to do it all the time in school.”

“You’re crazy, actually insane.”

Crystal was used to her sister’s wild antics, but this plot may have been a step too far.

“But you love me.”

“I hate you.”

“It’s not like you have any plans.” Elle held no hesitation in poking the bear - the boundaries between the two twins almost non-existent.

“I have Depop orders actually,” Crystal snapped back, a tiny part of resentment that her sister was attending one of the best universities in the country whilst she was sitting at home making jewellery rising inside of her body but not quite breaking the surface.

“£200.”

Crystal stopped in her tracks - now she was listening.

“It won’t work anyway, people will notice!”

“They won’t. I don’t speak to anyone in my college anyway and my course friends won’t say anything, just stay in bed all day once you’ve been to my seminars. I’ll even give you my Disney+ password.”

A hint of worry rose in Crystal’s mind; she wondered how her more outgoing other half had managed to go to university and not make friends in her accommodation. Where Crystal was shy and nervous throughout the entirety of her education, Elle had never been afraid to put herself out there, always surrounded by one group of pretty girls or another. “So what am I supposed to do in these seminars then? It’s not like I have an extensive knowledge of anthropology is it?”

“All you have to do is sign in and sit there pretending to type - they don’t even pick on you I swear. And it’s the last week before we break up so everyone will be really chill.”

“£300,” Crystal responded, the idea of escaping the four walls of her bedroom whilst making three months of her usual income beginning to tempt her, cursing internally at how easily convinced she was.

“I can’t give you £300.” Crystal could hear that her sister was talking through a grin despite not being able to see her face, the grin that meant she’d won.

“Well, you can’t go to Majorca then.”

“Three hundred pounds it is,” Elle agreed. “But you better get me a decent Christmas present.”

“Deal,” Crystal responded, knowing she had already purchased her sister’s gift two months prior. “Now, tell me absolutely everything I need to know about collegiate life.”

“It’s a good job. I knew you’d say yes and already planned this part out.” Elle beamed, proud at her ability to convince her timid younger-by-ten-minutes sister to do almost anything.

***

If secondary school was supposed to be a jungle of cliques, then Elle’s college may as well have been the Amazon rainforest.

Walking through the incredibly hard to find dining hall for breakfast, Crystal could make out almost every university stereotype she could think of, each confined to their own special hold.

From the druggies to the athletes, to the Oxbridge rejects, to the girls who borrowed daddy’s credit card - they were all there and thriving. A small part of Crystal wanted to go and sit with who she decided were the artsy girls despite knowing her sister wouldn’t be caught dead doing so.

Trying not to draw attention to herself, she kept her head down as she made it to the front of the queue, Elle’s clear step-by-step of how she approached meals playing through her head on repeat, the weeks of planning for this moment all coming into play.

Only at that moment, she panicked, the child’s paint by numbers that were her instructions started to turn into a set of IKEA diagrams without captions in her brain. Wishing she’d stuck to eating a pot noodle in her sister’s room, Crystal’s body froze in a state of fear after dolloping a ladle of baked beans onto her toast. A tonne (or maybe ten tonnes) of bricks smacked her right between the eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull this off. The lack of self-confidence she always battled with ran thick through her veins, her thoughts turning to ways she could go home and return to the comfort of her hometown, willing to sacrifice her sister’s already flagged attendance and the three hundred pounds to be watching Bake Off with her mam in the kitchen.

It almost happened in slow motion, time losing its speed as the boy behind her walked into Crystal’s back, propelling her tray forward onto an unsuspecting blonde. An unsuspecting blonde who seemed the opposite of dumb.

“What the fuck?” She snapped her head around to Crystal, thick brows furrowed and pink lips pursed.

“I’m sorr-” Crystal started, beating herself up internally at how she had managed to do the exact opposite of laying low despite being only one night into her weeklong mission.

“This won’t come out!” The girl started turning her neck frantically to the back of her shirt, the white satin stained bright orange.

Her mouth opening but no words coming out, Crystal didn’t have a chance to apologise again before the girl had a swarm of minions dabbing her back with tissues.

“It’ll be okay, G.” One of them took her hand.  Crystal wanted to burst out in tears like she usually did at the smallest sign of conflict, pinching the skin on the back of her hand and looking at the white ceiling lights to stop herself.

“So long as people look where they’re going.” The girl, G, cast a terrifying yet beautiful scowl in Crystal’s direction before sauntering away.

So much for laying low, she sighed before leaving the queue herself, her body tingling as if she’d hit her funny bone over a dozen times. The girl’s stare still imprinted in the back of her eyes.

Having narrowly avoided a panic attack, Crystal thought hard about her old coping mechanisms and tried her best to remain positive as she did after these situations, sitting down at an empty table and giving herself a pat on the back that she had at least passed as Elle without any doubts, ready to take the rest of her day by storm (also known as sitting in silence and occasionally nodding her head as a bunch of middle ages men discuss human evolution and diversity).

***

Having achieved three B grades by the end of sixth form and the award for ‘most creative’ in their final assembly, Crystal always thought of herself as somewhat intelligent and capable of living in the real world despite her decision not to go to university like her sister.

Yet there she stood, her face in a scowl and her fist in a ball, completely and utterly perplexed by the laundry system.

After sleeping in her sister’s dirty sheets the night before, she had arrived back to the college with hopes of resting her head on a pillow that wasn’t mascara stained and washing her face with a flannel sans toothpaste blobs (which was basic hygiene in Crystal’s opinion, but she hadn’t expected anything more from her twin). Only those dreams were temporarily dashed as she spent an entire thirty minutes pressing buttons and swiping the card Elle had left her manically against an aged machine. 

Thirty-six internet searches and two desperate phone calls to her sister later, Crystal was beaming at the sheets swirling around, not a care in the world at how much of a psychopath she would look to anyone entering the room, the stress she had previously faced in getting the machine to work inducing her to stay and wait for the clothes to wash instead of leaving them like normal practice. 

Elle had seemed happy on the phone, gushing to Crystal about how tanned she’d gotten in such a short space of time and how delicious all the food was - Crystal shutting her down quickly by reminding her that such a tan would only alert their mother to the fact she’d spent a week abroad visiting the sleazy holiday rep she’d fallen in love with that summer rather than in the brown-bricked, straight from a horror movie, sixties’ style complex that Crystal was currently residing in.

Crystal made a mental note to text her mam later and tell her how much she was enjoying her time “visiting her sister” - knowing fine well that talking to her on the phone would probably cause her to crumble and confess their scheme.

She had always been a family orientated person, always choosing a night in the house watching movies over playing out with friends, crying buckets the day her sister moved out and started a new chapter of her life without her. It was clear her mother wanted her to get out into the world, knowing she was capable of more than selling jewellery online, but unlike her sister, Crystal wasn’t quite ready to leave her home yet, needing that extra push to get her feet moving that just hadn’t come her way yet.

She figured that spending a week pretending to be her sister may actually be a good start.

Lost away with her head in the clouds like usual, Crystal was snapped back to surface level as her phone chimed to signal the end of the cycle, only to find herself even more frustrated when she realised that no dryers were free.

Today really hadn’t been her day. 

She personally blamed the lack of lucky necklace around her neck (Elle telling her specifically during their planning stages that she would never wear such a monstrosity and Crystal following suit despite knowing it was only entrenched in their rules because her sister thought it was ugly). Her secret superstitious side kicking in, she thanked herself for bringing some of her jewellery making gadgets with her, figuring she’d have to make her own version of it, for now, it wasn’t as if she had any better way to spend her evening.

Seeing a dryer with two minutes left until it timed out, Crystal figured she’d simply wait until it had been emptied to use it, allowing her brain to return back to Pinterest for a short period of time.

But ten minutes passed and no one came to empty the machine.

She glanced at the other piles of clothes that lay on top of the machines, figuring it was normal to remove other people’s when none were free, the thought of her sheets staying wet and crinkled making her feel uneasy.

Opening the dryer, she was hit immediately by a waft of lavender, reassuring herself that it was okay to move the clothes and feeling almost proud of herself for making a leap the old Crystal would have ran from in fear of awkwardness. 

Being her most careful, she picked the clothes one by one and started to fold them, her brain subconsciously admiring the mystery tartan-wearer’s sense of fashion and wishing she had the confidence to wear some of the outfits. That was when her hands met a satin blouse, a familiar satin blouse with an orange tinge on its white back.

Before she had time to process that the clothes she was moving belonged to the pretty girl from breakfast, Crystal’s train of thought was interrupted by the devil herself.

“Admiring your handiwork?” She strutted over and snatched the shirt back from Crystal’s hands.

Crystal couldn’t quite place her accent but she knew it was Southern. Her overactive imagination hearing the girl whisper dirty thoughts to her in that posh voice without being able to stop herself.

Oh, fuck.

“I’m sorry.” Crystal turned to her, not even attempting to act like anything other than the soft wimp she was inside. “I didn’t mean to.”

Crystal looked into the girl’s eyes, almost seeing her melt a little before her.

She felt the tension between them, dense and heavy in the air.

“It’s fine,” the blonde responded, losing the passive-aggressive tone she’d carried beforehand but still not sounding entirely sincere as she began to throw her clothes into her hamper. 

Crystal couldn’t help but gawk a little as she began to strut away, her body swishing like a model’s as she made her way out of the room, pausing for a second at the door.

“Can you do me a favour, though?” the girl called back to Crystal.

‘I think I’d give both of my kidneys to you’ Crystal thought. Only it instead came out as an awkwardly stuttered, “Erm, sure.”

“Turn your music down, please.” She shot a sarcastic smile in Crystal’s direction. Crystal felt it burrow straight through her chest cavity and into her fast-beating heart. “I know that anthropology may be a bit simpler than most degrees, but some of us really struggle to work when all they can hear is your shit music directly above them.”

Her mouth dropping open to catch flies as the girl left the room for good, a pang of realisation hit Crystal.

Opening her phone and flicking through the dramatic guide to her sister’s university life that was now saved at the top of her notes, she found what she’d been looking for:

“12. DO NOT, under any circumstances, bother the bitch downstairs.”

Too late, Crystal thought to herself, wondering how many more of her sister’s rules she would have broken by the end of the week.

***

Crystal would be lying if she said she hadn’t been watching out for the blonde that week, whose name she had figured out (after an intensive Facebook stalking session) to be Gigi. 

Yes, she was lying low, not leaving Elle’s room other than for seminars and to eat - but that didn’t stop her from taking stolen glances at the girl across the dining hall or walking up that second flight of stairs to the room just a fraction slower than she did the first flight.

Three days at university and she’d somehow turned back into a fourteen-year-old girl fantasising about the most popular girl in the class.

Except this time, the popular girl didn’t even know her real name.

She felt like Tracy from Hairspray - one look and she could hear the wedding bells playing in the back of her head. 

But at the same time, Crystal knew what was at stake - leaving their interactions to intense eye contact and mumbled “excuse mes,” knowing that even speaking to Gigi again could blow her entire cover.

Yet, she somehow managed to do exactly that on Wednesday night. Or, technically, the early hours of Thursday morning.

At first, Crystal tried to ignore the argument below her, drowning out their voices with her headphones (partly because she felt like she was intruding and partly because listening to people screaming at each other, like a lot of things, made her cry). However, as the war below was still awaiting a cease-fire, snippets of conversation slid their way into the room.

“Why do you have to do this on every night out?”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

“You don’t know what’s best for me.”

She could hear the pain in Gigi’s voice heighten right before her door slammed, Crystal wincing in bed at the sound.

Expecting to hear male footsteps stomp away, Crystal was surprised to instead hear lighter ones, making their way up the stairs and past her landing, a muffled sob travelling through her door.

Looking out of the window, she squinted in the dark until she saw the red glow of a cigarette from their fire escape, the hum of an unfamiliar tune making its way through the thin walls.

She knew it was a risk, but it was one that Crystal couldn’t help but take when she thought of the beautiful girl from the laundry room freezing in the cold.

Grabbing her sister’s spare dressing gown, she made her way onto the landing, taking a deep breath before going out onto the fire escape.

Logic and speech pushed to the back part of her mind, Crystal simply made her way over to the other girl and sat down beside her, placing the dressing gown over her slim shoulders.

Even in the dark, she could see how perfect Gigi was.

The mole on the side of her cheek.

The soft pout on her lips.

Despite the mascara smudged down her face and her eyes stinging red, Crystal thought she looked like an angel.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke to her, dropping the cigarette she smoked on the floor and pressing it out with her trainers. 

“Hi,” Crystal spoke back, unsure of what to say to the girl, blood rushing through her at a rate of knots, nervous filling her body and bursting through her head like she was some sort of human kettle.

“I guess you know what I mean about the music now.”

“Yeah.” Crystal nodded in the dark. “It’s noted.”

“I’m sorry about Karl…” Gigi trailed off, taking some time before speaking again. “He just gets like that sometimes when he’s had a drink. I know he doesn’t mean it. I guess you know that.”

Unsure of who Karl was, or why she was supposed to know that, Crystal began to feel like she was drowning. Only instead of jumping on the next lifeboat, she swam down deeper for Gigi.

A part of her was afraid, afraid she’d read the aura surrounding the other girl so wrong, afraid that Karl was her boyfriend.

“Mmhmm,” Crystal responded, maybe a bit more high pitched than she naturally would have.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend. But sometimes a part of me thinks that he just doesn’t have any idea who I really am if you get me.” 

Crystal couldn’t have understood any better at that moment.

All she wanted to do was tell her. To tell her how hard it was when everyone expected you to be the same as another person. How awful it felt when they never knew the real you, only a shell of the more outgoing sister.

Only she couldn’t, so she did the next best thing and placed her hand on the girl’s forearm, instantly getting a shock at how cold she felt.

“Do you wanna go inside? We can make hot chocolate,” she suggested, noting how Gigi’s body relaxed under her touch.

“He’s still in my room.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “I just can’t deal with him right now, it needs to be left for the morning.”

“You can stay in mine,” Crystal asked, squeezing her grip ever so slightly.

What was she doing?

This wasn’t part of the plan.

And it was certainly breaking some of the rules.

Potentially all of them combined.

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

But nothing filled her with greater relief then when Gigi finally responded: “If you don’t mind, thank you.”

***

At first, she felt awkward as she let Gigi into the room, especially considering the fact it wasn’t hers. But after two hot chocolates each she had felt the most comfortable and at peace as she had since masquerading as her sister.

She watched as Gigi’s eyes made their way around the room, a kid in a sweetie shop, gawking at the treasures around her.

“What’s that?” she spoke between sips, pointing towards Crystal’s craft box that had been haphazardly set up on her sister’s desk.

“Oh.” Crystal went to pick it up, a flutter of warmth rushing through her at the thought of someone, let alone Gigi, being interested in her jewellery. “Just some bits and bobs I make.”

“These are so cool.” Gigi held a pair of scarlet earrings up and examined them closer, her mouth opening slightly as she focused. “Like the ones you had in the other day.”

Crystal’s face turned a deeper red than the earrings, the thought of Gigi remembering what she wore sending shivers down her spine - her head telling her heart on an auto loop that no matter what she thought about Gigi, all of Gigi’s returned thoughts were instead about Elle.

“Yeah,” she choked out, nipping her skin to bring herself back to reality.

“You should sell these!” Gigi gasped as she rooted through more of Crystal’s collection. “I sell the clothes I make on Depop, we’d make a great team.”

Crystal didn’t get a chance to respond. She was too busy picking the pieces of her exploding heart from the carpet and trying to put it back together again.

“In fact.” Gigi grabbed her phone and began to search.

Crystal decided that her thinking face was even cuter than her regular face.

She was in deep. Too deep.

 “I think I follow an account that does stuff like this, let me think, something to do with crystals…”

Way, way too deep.

“I’m feeling a bit tired.” Crystal blurted awkwardly, getting mad at her mother for never placing her in acting lessons as a child, ready for the inevitable week that she’d have to pretend to be her twin sister or else she’d be kicked out of university and murdered by their family. Seeing the almost defeated look on Gigi’s face, she tried again. “But you can show me in the morning?”

“I’d love that.” Gigi smiled.

Crystal wanted to rewind time just to hear that sentence again. She wouldn’t be too greedy, she’d only listen to it one more time. Two at a push.

Making sure to go into the en suite as Gigi got changed, Crystal returned to find her in bed, already asleep, her hair a sprawl of honey against the pink pillows.

She waited a second before turning off the light and getting into bed beside her, something about lying next Gigi sending Crystal into a sleepy haze despite the way her heart had been beating so fast just moments before.

She could hear Gigi breathing, snoring just a little, finding her own breathing starting to sync along.

Sleep was only minutes away from taking over her body when she heard it, the muffled cry coming from the other side of the bed.

“No.” She heard Gigi mumble as she tossed from one side to the other. “Don’t go.”

Crystal placed a reassuring hand on her arm without thought. “Are you alright?”

Gigi woke startled, her eyes beaming at Crystal like a young deer caught in the middle of the road.

“I’m fine.” She realised her surroundings and threw the quilt to one side, moving her body down to the bottom end of the bed. “I best be off.”

“Hey.” Crystal sat up, flicking the lamp on by her bedside. “It’s alright, we can-”

But before she could finish, Gigi was gone. Nothing more than the faint smell of lavender on the pillows and the dark ring of hot chocolate in the bottom of her sister’s mug.

***

Making her way back into the college that evening, Crystal waited by the entrance for a few moments, wondering if she could manage to get to Elle’s room without passing the drinks and shenanigans that were currently taking place in front of her, wondering if she could manage to make it without passing Gigi, more precisely.

Tesco carrier bags full to the brim of every comfort food she could gorge on (salami, cheese, salt and vinegar crisps and three different bars of dairy milk to be precise) as she watched her sister’s Disney+ alone, Crystal concluded that the coast was clear and made her way to the bottom of her stairs without passing Gigi.

The words of the note she had posted under Elle’s door the day beforehand were still dancing around Crystal’s mind like a puzzle that even Professor Layton couldn’t solve:

“Elle, please forgive me for this morning. I don’t know what happens when I get like that..we’re all having drinks at around 8 tomorrow if you wanna join? - Gigi.”

As much as she longed to join Gigi for a drink, Crystal knew that she couldn’t. She’d already put too much on the line, allowed herself to get too close, too emotionally invested. A short text from Elle asking if everything was okay scared her straight, there was too much at stake. Yes, she wanted more than anything to be the one who comforted Gigi the next time she had a nightmare, to make jewellery for her and kiss her forehead whenever she looked stressed. But family meant everything to her, and she knew if anyone were to find out what they’d done, the consequences wouldn’t be worth it. 

About to make her way up the stairs, Crystal felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Let me help with those,” the boy motioned to her bags, his voice familiar.

With dark hair slicked back, and skin the colour of caramel, it took Crystal a second to realise where she knew the boy from, remembering his face next to Gigi’s in their corner of the dining hall.

“I’m fine, they’re not heavy.” Crystal tried to walk away but was stopped by his voice, yet again.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come help? It’s been a little while, Elle.” He grinned, a smirk in his eyes that Crystal couldn’t quite trace.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to catch up with you later,” Crystal responded, trying to remain calm on the outside as her insides reached peak panic mode, her brain mentally scanning her notes for anything mentioning this boy. Her search found no results.

“Oh I get it,” he laughed. “It’s one of your games.  Sure, you wanna catch up later.”

That’s when the realisation hit Crystal. Her sister was having sex with this boy. And she completely failed to mention it.

Trying to think of something to say, a heavy silence lingered between them. Broken by a familiar tone that managed to scare her half to death and turn her on at the same time.

“Karl.” Gigi shook her head as she made her way down the staircase, carrying what looked like a sippy cup of vodka red bull in her hands. “Do you mind not trying to shag every girl in college for five seconds?”

“I’ll see you later, Elle.” He muttered before strutting away with Gigi, Crystal making out the word ‘cockblock’ in their hushed conversation as they left.

She knew that Elle didn’t tell her everything.

Just because they were twins they didn’t have to know every detail of each other’s lives, even though they spoke every day. Crystal always knew that. But a part of her heart stung at the thought of her sister not even telling her about a boy she was sleeping with. Is that how far apart they’d grown since Elle came to uni? 

Fighting back tears, she made her way up the stairs and tried to call her sister. She knew she was being silly; a part of her had just thought she’d know when her sister was sleeping with someone. So many questions ran through her mind. Was Elle safe? Did she love him? Why didn’t anyone know? 

She tried to call again, no answer.

Gigi must have known, Crystal figured - slotting together their interaction the night before with the one they’d just had. Is that why Elle didn’t like her? Why they weren’t friends? Why she’d told Crystal to avoid her?

She answered on the fifth call.

“Hey, babe, I really can’t talk right now.” 

Crystal ignored her sister’s words, dropping her shopping outside the door and moving out onto the fire escape, the cold breeze hitting her face harshly.

“Who’s Karl?” 

“Oh.” She heard her other half’s surprise, she could see the look on her face, high definition in Crystal’s mind. “I told you not to speak to people, for fuck sake, Crystal.”

“Who’s Karl?”

“I can’t speak about this now.” Her tone lowered, clearly someone else was in her company.

“Who’s Karl?” Crystal asked again, not even stopping to think about how dramatic she was being.

Only her sister had hung up before she could get an answer.

Crystal didn’t know how long she’d been out there when she heard the door open, she didn’t even know if she was still crying or not.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke, almost a whisper, as she approached her. “We gotta stop meeting like this, hey?”

Crystal watched Gigi’s face drop a little at the sight of her, looking hurt the second she got close enough to see her tears.

“Yeah, I-” Crystal started but was swiftly interrupted.

Normally in films, it happened after a moment. 

The pair would talk, get deep about their issues, reach a comforting solution then sit for a moment in an all-knowing silence.

Then they’d look into each other’s eyes, letting them flicker down once or twice before meeting again, that lock not leaving until they were shut.

Next came the strand of hair, pushed away and tucked neatly behind the ear.

Finally, the kiss, slow at first then growing in passion.

Only Gigi had no patience.

It took Crystal a second to react, to realise what was happening, to press her lips back against Gigi’s, to race her hand through the other girl’s hair.

It was unexpected.

Yet it felt nothing but natural.

And right.

“I’m sorry.” Gigi pulled away, pausing to bite her tongue between her teeth, a nervous side of her appearing that Crystal had not yet seen. “I know that’s like the last thing you’re meant to do when someone’s upset but, I don’t know, you just looked so sad and-”

This time Crystal wasn’t going to let her finish.

She felt Gigi’s hands wipe the stray tears from her face before moving right down her body to her waist. Moving her body closer so she was almost straddling the other girl, Gigi pulled away for just a second to let out a breath. 

Crystal moved her hands round to Gigi’s back, further and further down until she was granted a nod of permission, letting them slide over the silky fabric of her skirt.

Before Crystal knew it she was being pushed back to the ground, Gigi’s long and beautiful body towering over her, as she got to her knees and began to kiss Crystal all over.

Gently, methodically, slowly. 

Crystal’s mind was carried away, far from reality and refusing to take away from the moment in front of her.

“I knew you wanted me.” She felt Gigi’s breath tickle her ear, sending hot flushes down her entire body, reaching her hands out to touch the other girl’s breasts.

“Fuck, Elle.” Gigi grinned, flicking a switch in Crystal’s body as she pushed herself backwards away from her touch.

She’d almost forgotten that part.

Looking at the other girl’s confused face, she was lost for words, pulling the strap of her vest top back in its place. She knew she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t keep lying. She would have let Gigi sleep with her thinking that she was someone else. She’d become a monster. She had to tell the truth.

“What the fuck?” A voice came from the door behind them, Karl’s confused face flicking between the pair of them. “Is this a joke?”

“Shit,” Gigi muttered and stood up, but Crystal was frozen in place, her hands and feet turning numb with anxiety, the sky around them warping in time. “I can explain.”

Crystal watched as Gigi chased her friend back into the building, listening to her tell him she was sorry and she just got carried away. Listening to Karl ask if that was why she’d told him to stop sleeping with her. Listening to Gigi explain that it wasn’t it, that something had just changed recently. Listening to her life crumble around her.

And then she heard nothing at all.

Even when she knocked on Gigi’s door later that night, ready to give her the explanation she needed, Crystal heard nothing at all - eventually giving in and retreating to the cave of Elle’s room, with no plans to leave it until their train pulled in at the station. 

***

Looking up at the hideous brown bricks in front of her, Elle Barge never thought she’d be so relieved to see the college in her life.

One day earlier than she was supposed to return, she hoped that Crystal would forgive her for withholding some of the stuff she’d been doing at university, thinking that they could have one fun night together before getting the train home the next day, giving at least a hint of truth to their family when they arrived back.

Besides, her holiday romance meet-up hadn’t exactly gone the way she had planned when she accidentally met up with his wife. Hence her early departure.

She figured she’d just have to chalk this one up to being a good story to tell, throwing away her sadness at the thought of having a best-selling novel about her awful love life someday. 

Heck, she’d probably already have half of it written with just stories about Karl.

Walking up the stairs to her room, she rolled her eyes at the sight in front of her.

One thing she certainly had not missed was Gigi Goode braying on her door to tell her to turn her music down.

Surely, Crystal wasn’t irritating her, Elle thought to herself. The only music Crystal ever played was One Direction and she hardly blasted it.

“Ahem.” Elle coughed loudly enough for Crystal to hear from inside the room, praying she’d understand with her magic twin sense not to come out (also quickly texting her not to incase the magic twin sense failed them. Elle did not want a repeat of that time in year nine when Jackie Cox asked if they could read each other’s minds).

“Hey.” Gigi turned to face her, a strange look on her face that Elle couldn’t quite decode. Tension started to seep through the stained carpet and up the walls like lava.

“Hi?” Elle raised an eyebrow to her, more of a question than a greeting. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you before,” Gigi started, nodding her head as she got into the rhythm of her speech. “I was just scared and I didn’t know how to say it but I can now. Please just listen and wait ‘til I’m done, I have to explain.”

Minefields began exploding inside Elle’s brain.

She simply nodded.

“I’ve been fucked over in the past. And it still scares me today. You know the other night? That was it, I haven’t felt myself get close to anyone in a while. And I know it’s bad because of Karl and I’m a shitty friend to him but honestly, I think that this is something bigger than that, cause I’ve not felt it for a while. And I think you feel it too. Look, I’m really shit at this but something changed this week, I saw you in this light I’d never caught you in. I might sound mad but I think that I need you.”

Looking back at the girl in front of her with dismay, Elle spoke back the only three words that rang through her brain at that moment.

“What the fuck.”

And then her door opened, her sister’s face peeking out around the corner, clad in the same expression she used to have whenever she’d spilt juice on the carpet or smashed plate. Her hair matted and eyes puffy, Elle immediately moved to her side.

And then Gigi uttered the three words as well - only adding a “fucking” in there too for good measure.

Killing the silence that lingered for some time, Crystal spoke the fastest sentence Elle had ever heard all in one breath: “I’ve been pretending to be my sister so she could go get fucked by a Spanish guy.”

“Wow.” Elle looked back and forth between the pair, recognising a glint in her sister’s eyes that was certainly not there before.

Crystal prepared herself and walked up to Gigi, placing her hand on her arm. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I was going to but then Karl came and everything got messy. I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I saw that bigger thing too and I let myself get carried away in it.”

Gigi looked between the pair and raised a hand to her mouth, letting out a hearty laugh. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Elle pleaded, fear rising inside her.

Silence filled the landing again, the twins standing sheepishly as they gave time for Gigi to process.

“If I’m honest I think I’m less confused now.” Gigi turned to face Crystal and grinned, showing an emotion Elle didn’t think the Barbie doll was even capable of showing. “This makes a lot more sense.”

Elle watched as her sister grinned back, seeing the genuine happiness on her face and throwing away all thoughts about whether or not she’d get in trouble.

“I think I might just be able to forgive you.” Gigi looked her up and down, pouting her lips in a joking manner. “If you let me take you out so we can talk this through over dinner?”

“Yes,” Crystal responded without hesitation.

“But first, could you tell me your name?”

“Crystal.” Elle watched as her sister reached out and shook the other girl’s hand, proud of the growth in confidence she could see - happy to see the return of the happy-go-lucky Crystal who wasn’t too scared to try anything new that she knew as a child.

“Crystal,” Gigi repeated, smiling to herself. “So Crystal, do you go to uni or just hang around at other people’s?”

“Maybe next year.” Crystal smiled back a sense of optimism in her voice. “Are we going for this dinner or what?”

Although it took her a minute to take in what she’d seen, a strange feeling inside of her as she waved her sister goodbye for a date with her bitchy downstairs neighbour, Elle couldn’t help but think that her disaster vacation had all happened for a good reason. In fact, she found herself almost shedding a tear as she heard her sister laughing at something Gigi said on their way downstairs, figuring that she might just see more of her sister than usual next term (and being nothing but happy about it).

[onyourzeus]

• beat of my heart | ydw

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: beat of my heart  pairing: yoon dowoon (of day6) & you genre: fluff, non-idol!au, college!au words: 4.3k

author’s note: finally, a dowoon fic that i thoroughly enjoyed writing (hence how long it is) it went on a different track than planned, but isn’t that how most of my fics are turning out to be? lol. please do enjoy!

this dot fic is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: wonpil (currently only have 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

there isn’t a lot that occupies dowoon’s mind. he gets classified as an introvert by people who have known him for years but this doesn’t mean too much for him

sure, he likes to keep to himself and only open up to people he’s trusted for a while which… is the kind of life he wants to lead

with that being said, other things that goes under Dowoon’s Approved Interests would be: playing the drums, playing a ton of games, and… animals 

upon entering college, he wondered if he’d have the free time to care for animals just like when he was younger, volunteering at the nearest animal shelter in which everyone who worked there knew who he was

and always regarded him as the shy little boy but also borderline an animal whisperer. it gave dowoon lots of fun memories to look back on his childhood, and for a moment he considered studying veterinary science to continue his passion for loving dogs cats and everything in between

but another love of his life was introduced in first year high school, and that is the drums. as his social circle expanded (as much as he permitted it to, so not by a lot), so did his club activities in music and even playing as a filler in different bands became his priority (next to academics) 

he still visited the shelter from time to time, it wasn’t something he could just drop so easily; bonding with stray-turned-angelic pets waiting for their forever family was his form of therapy, in a way, when music got too complicated at times or when he’s struggling with a class

and then there’s playing league or overwatch or pubg to release stress in a more high-energy fashion

so when the time came that he needed to choose a major, the first thing that came into mind was music theory. he wanted to get better at playing drums, understanding notes, and improving his performance skills overall

he’s experienced frustration over figuring out the rhythm for certain songs he liked to play before, so this is what made him decide that music is the type of interest he’d want to pursue as a career

and bonding with animals… well, would be just that. this way, he doesn’t get burnt out with the one hobby he feels much peace with. his happy place, if you will 

so imagine dowoon’s surprise when he learnt of a volunteering organization on campus that caters to helping out local animal shelters on the weekends. literally what he has been doing since he was a wee lad

it was perfect timing to have passed by the club booth during intro week, he already planned on auditioning for the established bands on campus (day6 sounds like a perfect fit for him, tbh) but he hadn’t reached that level of confidence with his drumming skills yet

distracting himself with going to the shelter every so often would help him leave the dorm for a bit (his roommate ha subtly asked many a times for him to ease off of the mouse clicking during the late hours of the night and shouting, “gg” over and over) 

the first few times he went to the org’s events at the shelter, it was… a little awkward

one, he didn’t know anybody and two, he isn’t exactly the cute little shy 10 year old he once was that knew every auntie and uncle in his small town. 

and everyone else in the event… already seems to know each other. dowoon recognizes the guy who handed him a flyer talking to the animal shelter coordinators up in the front. he had been lost in the crowd of his peers that he has no idea what’s going on

he just wants to pet sum dogs and play laser pointers with cats, is that too much to ask for?

suddenly, everyone had dispersed into groups and apparently you choose where you want to be included in

great, dowoon is just smiling awkwardly to himself as he feels the tips of his ears blush bright red

“hi! dowoon, right? do you have a group to join?” he whips his head to the sound of your voice, just a few feet ahead of him. he’s confused as to why you knows his name, so he points to himself and feels the flimsy paper nametag attached by double-sided tape on his shirt

oh, duh. they had the new prospective members do it a while ago 

he sees your name too, and remembers it in the back of his head like a prayer

dowoon shakes his head, perpetually shy and blushing hard now. you feel a sense of guilt singling him out like that in the crowd, so you approach him more closely and signal to follow you

“i’m part of the board members, and we don’t have enough people in our group so you can come join us!” as publicity chair, it is your duty to make others feel comfortable and welcomed in the org. and this is your time to shine

“we’re looking at some bigger doggos today, do you have any pets, dowoon?” you try to make polite introductions as you lead the group to where you’re assigned. like a lost puppy on his own, dowoon follows suit. he’s grateful for some guidance, and actually seeing the animals calm him down for a moment

and it doesn’t feel like everyone’s staring at him anymore as he hears chit-chatting surrounding the place

so he focuses his attention on you instead, and he somewhat regrets it

he’s not those guys who don’t have girl friends, but most of the friendships he’s formed with them are due to the fact that he was introduced by a mutual friend

so dowoon is, how do you say it, entranced by the way you talk about your first big dog in the house 

and the two that followed after, and how you stopped playing with your friends from the neighborhood

because all you needed in life were your golden retrievers and newfoundland

dowoon finds himself sharing his own childhood experiences of spending time at a shelter, but never having a dog of his own

“family allergies,” he shrugs and you pout for him in frustration 

wow, he’s never seen someone so invested by the fact that he never got to own a pet for himself 

“well, dowoon,” you tell him as you’re approaching the section of big dogs, “i hope you enjoy your time here. this is one of the biggest shelters near campus, and fortunately a lot of dogs and cats get adopted every month!” 

your enthusiasm for #adoptdontshop makes dowoon feel excited again, he’s just itching to be back doing what calms him down in a therapeutic sense

you instruct the other members to join in a pair or a trio to assist the shelter coordinators with grooming some of the dogs and going for their scheduled walks

this makes dowoon suddenly panic inwardly again, why does everything have to be done in groups?

“want to come with me?” you ask him in the middle of his inner monologue. you’re met with a look of surprise similar to how he reacted when you called out his name just a few minutes prior

“me? you’re not partnering with anyone else?” you shake your head, “as you can tell, they’ve already made up their minds. you’re one of the only new people i saw come to our event today, so i’ll be glad to show you around!” and you genuinely are. it’s rare to see a newbie look so obviously excited to be here, let alone by themselves

usually the people you’ve come to know who join your events are just there for the instagram stories or a pseudo-date of some sorts. you’re happy they’re helping out the shelter with taking care of the pets even for a few hours in the day, but their intentions lie far and beyond with what you have in mind joining the org

however, having approached dowoon and giving him your usual spiel on your love for dogs— he was actually listening and nodding along to the right moments!!! it was so refreshing, especially with the way he’s just excitedly tapping his feet right now awaiting where you’ll lead him next 

“oh, let’s hang out with lady! she’s actually going to be adopted soon, but i want you to meet her,” you lead dowoon to one of the bigger stalls on the right where lady was. you call out to her, and immediately you see a tail of a fawn colored pitbull sway back and forth

she comes near you first, sniffing and licking at your petting hands. lady senses dowoon standing idly by your side, and you’re about to tell him how to approach the dog when dowoon does it for himself

he bends down to her level, lifts up a loosely closed fist and lets lady smell her first. “hi lady, nice to meet you. my name is dowoon,” he coos at her, finally lady lets him in her space as her tail wags even faster

“that’s amazing,” you point out, “we had a really hard time teaching her to trust new people” 

dowoon shrugs, grinning while he’s at it and you can tell how modest he’s trying to be. but the way he’s rubbing lady’s belly and chuckling at her snorts make you believe that dowoon knows what he’s doing. and he’s enjoying it to the fullest 

“thank you for trusting me, miss lady,” dowoon tells the dog who has completely fallen in love with him too. you just watch him, in awe of the scene before you until dowoon looks your way

he catches you having a weird, goofy smile and so you fake cough your way as an excuse and tuck a hair beneath your ear. “does she need to go for a walk?” he asks you, tone inquisitive and hands busy petting lady much to her delight

“we can, y-yeah,” you find yourself a little out of breath, so out of the ordinary for you. but you comply to his wish and ask the coordinator for lady’s leash and the record book. 

and that’s kinda how you and dowoon started hanging out a lot on the weekends. after that first event you met him, you’re quick to tell him about the incoming ones the org has for the following weeks (albeit some were supposed to be a secret, you couldn’t resist) and that you’ll be really happy if he came

for the pets, of course

dowoon had informed you that he’s trying to join a band on campus, so he might not be at every event you described. although he’ll do his best, for all the other dogs and cats he hasn’t met yet. you become curious about the guy, but not enough confidence to ask about this band or anything other than his love for animals

so for the next few weeks of the semester, whenever you get to lead an event you’re always looking for a shy boy in the crowd. and 80% of the time, dowoon comes through

there are instances when the other board members ask you to proceed with a diff group or a diff task, and before they can sweep dowoon away from your group…

“ah, actually he’s interested in becoming my intern, so i think it’s best to keep him under my wing!”

“we’re doing interns??? now?? i thought we canceled that—”

“he’s just interested, nothing too serious or finalized but yep— ah, dowoon, over here!” 

what a save, and gladly dowoon didn’t hear

he’s actually formed a few acquaintances within the returning members, and it makes you proud to see him come out of his shell a lil

even if you don’t know much about him yet, just his major and the band he’s trying out for (which is looking very good, in his terms) as long as dowoon voluntarily wants to attend the events, it’s a success to you

“who are we meeting today chief?” dowoon would tease you once the event has started, and it’s becoming a running theme in your guys’ greetings

hmm, you decide, major,” is what you’d call him (as you squeal and squirm involuntarily inside) “bathing ole’ mister winston or trying to teach tiny toffee how to sit and stay for more than two seconds?” 

dowoon visibly shudders, remembering the time the english mastiff mister winston slobbered him so much as a form of thanks for keeping him squeaky clean, and you basically laughed at his face for 15 seconds straight

“let’s teach toffee some tricks today,” he relents as you already knew the answer but wanted to see reactions of his flashbacks 

you’re not sure if any one of the board members have noticed your particular liking to dowoon. if they did no one said a word because the whole point of the organization is

to have fun with animals and prepare them well for their furr-ever home, which is what you and dowoon love doing together. there’s a kind of synergy that you feel being with dowoon and working with one dog

dowoon knows more techniques on how to calm down anxious dogs than you’ve ever learned being in the org

you have to admit sometimes you’re still skittish, jumping from loud sounds or yelping in response to mister winston pawing at you (and his paws are bigger than your face) 

or maybe it’s the fact that dowoon is there teasing you instead, intentionally hiding from you when you need a helping hand only to return with a handful of kittens in his embrace. “sorry, they were calling out to me and i couldn’t resist.” 

you’d roll your eyes and attempt to get upset, but the way his own shines and his shy giggle coming out of him when the kittens fight their way to nuzzle against his cheek— it’s harder than you thought

anyway, you tell yourself that you’re keeping dowoon by your side because the two of you learn a lot together, and the back and forth coordination you have with tougher to care for dogs makes the job easier, it’s really that. it really is

or maybe it’s more… because as the weeks go by and dowoon couldn’t come round the shelter on the weekends, he asks if you want to see him practice with the band he’s joined

unfortunately, a lot of the times clash with your events or other school related activities, so dowoon insists on sending you videos of him playing the drums

it was a wild ride of messages, to be honest, because at first the camera would just be showing the ceiling, and then it would be recording his shoes, then just the surface of a drum until the vibrations shake it off of wherever dowoon was putting his phone against

nevertheless, you’d listen to how he plays the instrument he truly loves, and it was another side of him that got you feeling enamored 

the day has come that there was no event at the shelter, and dowoon alongside other day6 members were having a busking session on campus grounds

“i’ll record you this time, dowoon, you don’t have to rely on faulty angles and physics anymore,” you tell him minutes before the gig started. you’ve seen dowoon give off a positive, excited aura in the shelter, but being with his bandmates and sitting in front of his drums— you’re observing a different side of him

and it’s addicting. to watch

“oh, guys by the way, she’s the one i was telling you all about,” you hear dowoon tell his members while you stand on the side. a question mark pops in your head, what does he mean by that???

soon after, everyone introduces themselves to you and shakes your hand. and you’re stunned, having known their names before (courtesy of dowoon) but not really associating a face with it 

“you didn’t tell me your friends are good looking,” you tease dowoon, “you’re hanging out with the right crowd,” you add, poking him on the side to watch his reaction

and you get what you wanted, ears blushing and hands shoving you away playfully 

around you, a crowd has started forming and you notice people from the org watching on the sidelines too

posters fill up the air with names of the members— and even dowoon

huh, why does that hurt a little inside (maybe you should have made a poster too? you glance at dowoon to see him gazing upon the cheers of the crowd and perhaps his name in sharpie, enclosed in hearts by his supporters)

that hurt a little more too

you shake away the weird feeling, and remind yourself that you’re here to record him for the first time, and to listen to him play live

when they finally begun their performance, you became more speechless than you thought. you’ve gone to indie music gatherings before and have watched a couple of up and coming bands do their thing

but day6 is something else— and most especially, you know the drummer

the ones those girls behind you are screaming your ear off for 

he’s a god with the drums, eyes closed in parts that require careful and soft beats but you see the fiery look in them once the song comes up to its peak 

it was thrilling, it was a sight to behold. dowoon in his other element, another side of dowoon you’d love to get to know more of

you resist from screaming his name so that your recording doesn’t sound ugly (you’re sending it to him after all), but that doesn’t mean your heart isn’t beating as loud as the rhythm of his drums 

a few times during the performance, you catch him looking at your direction, but you’re not sure so you just raise a thumbs up with one hand while the other holding your phone feels strained as they go on

it’s ok, it’s all for dowoon

an hour later, their set ended with a bang and girls and guys alike flock to the members to get a poster signed or something else of theirs (dowoon had already given you a pre-signed poster. friendship benefits?) 

you didn’t want to leave without congratulating him for a very successful first gig, so you sit by the benches. a little farther away from the platform where they performed to give yourself fresh air, and understand why your heart continues to pound so hard and so fast

and the cheers for dowoon’s name playing back in your mind

it’s the after show adrenaline, you tell yourself, rewinding the footage you recorded to pass the time

your mistake since it was all just dowoon

there were times when you “accidentally” zoomed it in his face, and kept it there. for minutes on end

god why does he smile like that, stop you’re hurting my HEART

“someone’s a fan,” a low, litling voice creeps up behind you

and your first instinct is to punch the invader of your personal space

which you did (albeit not as strongly as you wanted) but when realizing who received said punch…

“dowoon holy shit WHY WOULD YOU GO BEHIND ME LIKE THAT” 

“I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR REACTION WOULD BE SO VIOLENT”

so uh, there you suddenly are

in the college’s nurse office

with the drummer of what seems to be a rising band on campus, dowoon

getting his bloody nose (literally) checked out, and asking him serious questions without you in the room

“did she really think i’d punch you like that???”

“i think it was really nice of her to look out for me, you know,” dowoon smirked, and the two of you had already come out of the office and you were ready to actually punch him for real this time

but you decline your desires because you still feel a bit guilty 

a part of you knew it was dowoon, the voice was a dead giveaway, but you’re “logical reasoning” says you didn’t want him, nor anyone, to see you admiring his face on video. playing it on loop 

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, cringing at the turn of events tonight “can you still make it to the band’s after dinner party? can you still eat with your nose like that?”

“you’re so weird,” dowoon replies, pinching the bridge of his nose as he elicits a short “ow” of pain, and you can’t help but feel so terrible

“ughhhhhh dowoon pls say i didn’t break your nose or else your fangirls will hate me”

“what” 

“you heard me don’t make me say it again”

“say what again :)” at this point he’s just messing with you, his nose doesn’t look crooked anyway and he definitely knows there were girls fawning over him!!

“c’mon, i’ll pay for the uber to take you to the restaurant,” you urge, it’s the least you can do for physically hurting the person who seems to be confusing you what draws the line between being a friend and… potentially liking them more than that 

dowoon doesn’t respond, just shakes his head no and walks alongside you

“what do you mean no???” you’re baffled, why would he decline such a good offer?? 

“no i’m not going to the dinner, it’s fine i get to see them every day,” he reasons out. he stretches his arms and evokes a yawn. “besides i’m pretty beat from the gig, so i’m just gonna crash back at the dorm”

you’re not convinced, what if he’s just pretending to be sleepy so he doesn’t bother you anymore? biting your lip, you contemplate on persuading him to go but buying his dinner (you’re not sure how that will work) until he stops in his tracks and

pinches your cheeks

to stop you from thinking as your eyes land on his

dowoon huffs, eyebrows creased with concern as he says, “you look like one of the dogs we fed last week who wanted more food in his bowl, but he doesn’t know he’s on a diet.” 

he.. really compared u… to a dog???? 

“what do you mean by that,” you counter, cheeks heating up from the sensation of his fingers pinching at them. not too painful, but enough to consciously feel the pressure of his touch on your face

not to mention his focus is all on you

“you’re upset because i won’t give in to your apology gift,” he explains further. “but really, i’m fine. you didn’t break any bones, and you aimed for my nose. if it were my hands that got hurt then it’ll be a different story”

you groan outwardly, not knowing how to best him out of his logic

“c’mon the bus is coming soon, let’s call it a night,” he says, releasing your cheeks from his grasp and instead, tugging at your hand to follow his lead this time

you don’t let it go

once you enter the bus, dowoon finds an empty two seater and slides right in by the window seat, patting the one next to him. you reluctantly take the spot, still reeling from the way he held your hand so effortlessly, still confused about how you feel about him, still wanting to make it up to him

“is there an event tomorrow?” dowoon asks, escaping you out of your reverie. you churn your brain to think as this is a good opportunity to divert your attention somewhere else

“i believe so. i’m not leading the event, but it’s basically adoption day at the shelter. did you want to come?”

“of course, if you are”

“oh,” that caught you off guard… he can always come to events even if you aren’t, he’s a member now and he’s good friends with the other board members…

“if you’re not, then are you busy doing something?” he yawns again, eyes becoming droopier by the minute as the bus takes it leave

“not really… we can go… together,” you attempt to string coherent sentences together, but the sight of dowoon dozing off at the electric hum while the bus moves entrances you

his pale soft skin contrasts the tiredness in his voice, trying to keep himself away by answering you

“mm. yeah, i’d like to go with you...anywhere… with you,” he starts mumbling, head dangerously close to colliding against the window

silently, you chuckle. and admire the hardworking effort you’ve seen dowoon achieve so far, it makes you momentarily forget about figuring out your feelings

cause it’s kinda obvious with the way you’re seeing him right now, usually you’d tease him, take a picture for blackmail or even feel slightly awkward sitting in the bus next to each other

but right now, you admire him. and wish you can talk to him more about the band, about his dreams, about going to events “as long as it’s with you”

you hear him continuously mumble string of phrases that are incomprehensible at this point, and instead of making fun of the guy (you’ve done enough damage to his nose), you gently tell him, “sleep, dowoon. i’ll wake you up when your stop is here.”

“mmkay,” he gives in, breathes out heavily and

leans against you

resting his head on your shoulder, even making himself more comfy by nuzzling his cheek by the junction of your neck

in a way it sets your heart aflame

but on the outside, you feel at ease. that he can easily take the hit with his nose just mere moments ago and willingly let his head, and his mind rest for a little right by your side

you don’t have to wonder about your feelings anymore

you’d want this to happen more in the future, and hopefully

you’re just wishing upon a star here, that dowoon feels the same

[eljackinton]

So Here's how I'd pitch a new Star Wars

Star Wars isn't going anywhere. That much is fundamentally clear. When will the franchise grace the silver screen again? That is somewhat unclear. At least outside of stand-alone spin-off films anyway. While originally having plans to have a Star Wars film come out annually, the planned new 'trilogies' fell by the wayside, and a more sporadic schedule starts with Rogue Squadron in 2023

Disney originally figured that if people could eat up the multiple superhero epics served up on a regular basis, that they'd be just as eager for seconds with the galaxy far, far away. However, after the split opinion over The Last Jedi, muted enthusiasm for Solo and all round universal disappointment of Rise of Skywalker, such a proposition now seems little more than a pipe dream.

While the various spin-offs in the world of TV and Video Games seem to assure us that new content will continue to tick over, it's unclear if Star Wars' future will ever return to blazing a trail into new territory, new worlds, new ideas and concepts, or if it will only ever dip back into the well of familiar faces and settings in perpetuity.

Is it just going to be Mandalorians and Tie Fighters all the way down?

I can't see the future, but what I can do is ask "What would I do if it was my call?" So, I got to thinking about how, if given the opportunity, I would bring Star Wars back to the screen in a brand new adventure. This isn't a side story or shifted point of view. This isn't something dumped into the cracks between films. This would be, for all intents and purposes, new Star Wars in every way those words imply.

So with that overlong pre-amble over, let's begin.

First up, here's my statement of intent. My idea of what a new Star Wars should be and how it would aim to achieve that.

To me, a new Star Wars should need to meet the following criteria:

- This film should be as welcoming to new viewers as it is to existing fans.

- It should be as brand new a story as it can be. New characters, new conflicts, new worlds.

- It should still feel like a Star Wars film. No matter what, it should still be recognisably Star Wars.

- The story should feel significant. An important chapter in the setting's history, not a small secondary side story.

So with these three criteria I reasoned I should give myself several specific limitations:

- No returning characters. No cameos and as few explicit references to the wider setting as possible.

- No relying on old visual designs. This is a new setting. No Rebellion or Empire. No Stormtroopers, Tie Fighters or Death Stars.

- This is a story must be set after all previous Star Wars stories. This will not be a prequel.

- The first film must be as self-contained as possible. Room will be left for a trilogy but it shouldn't be riddled with mysteries and loose ends.

So, in conclusion, we want a film that feels fundamentally Star Wars without relying on the crutch of nostalgia. We want a film that can fill that gap that only Star Wars can, without feeling as though we're revisiting beats and concepts from earlier stories. We want a film that can live up to the title, in their big neon yellow, but also feel like new, untrodden ground.

No small task.

So, to introduce you to what I've come up with, cue fanfare, start opening scroll...

STAR WARS

THE KYBER CONFLICT

It is a time of unbroken peace. Overseen by the ruling ARISTOCRACY

miners in the system of Windar have discovered vast deposits of

valuable KYBER CRYSTALS buried within it's moon.

Long known as the power source for their ancient lightsabres

the JEDI ORDER dispatches two of it's

representatives to negotiate a trade.

However, in the wake of their discovery there is rumblings

of descent in the MINER'S UNION. Perused by agents from the the

INCOM CORPORATION, the workers have taken possession of

an override chip that they hope they can use to change their fortunes.

So, quickly we establish the state of the universe. We're a couple generations after the sequel trilogy. The Republic and the Jedi are back, though not unchanged. They could use the 'Order of Skywalker' moniker to leave the suggestion that Luke and Rey's legacy has passed into legend, but I'm easy on that. We're in a new, fresh part of the galaxy that is outside of the Republic's influence.

PROLOGUE

The film begins. The camera drops down onto two large bodies in space. A planet and it's moon, which appear to be linked via a massive, tube-like, space elevator. Whizzing along the exterior of the elevator from the planet to the moon are two ships. The smaller of the two is a bashed up, industrial ship, where the larger in pursuit is a sleek red interceptor that looks more like a yacht.

Cut to the interior of the industrial ship. Our film is beginning in much the same way A New Hope did. Jostled in the explosion are our first two characters. TIBBITS and BR-NDA. Tibbits is a short blue engineer probably played by Danny DeVito, and BR-NDA is a horse-sized Gonk droid. These two play as a sort of inverse C3-P0 / R2-D2 dynamic. Tibbits is a confident and often flippantly negligent engineer, where BR-NDA, through beeps and borps, constantly tries to disprove with how relaxed he is.

As Tibbits and BR-NDA talk, they debate how much longer the ship will hold up against the state-of-the-art firepower from their INCOM attackers. Incom did make the X-Wings, after all. Soon enough they are summoned by SORLOV, who is head of the MINER'S UNION, a Duros who is sort of a rugged hard nosed general type. Also, he wears a wig, and this goes unremarked upon. I just like the idea of hairless aliens wearing wigs as a fashion statement.

Through dialogue the stakes of the situation are established. The miners have recently stole something called an 'override chip' from Incom HQ, which has gotten them into trouble. They don't have much time, and need to make their escape.

Again mirroring A New Hope, miners armed with blasters run to repel borders. Sorlov however, chooses to fight with them, and tells Tibbits and BR-NDA to hit the escape pods. Stormtrooper-like, red-armoured Incom security troops board the ship, a fight ensues, forcing a bunch of them into retreat.

Just as Darth Vader did in A New Hope, a menacing figure now enters. This figure, however, wears a rugged-looking cream coloured trench coat, a tall collar covering his face and a cowboy-like hat. This is ROAKE, and he is essentially a union busting space-Pinkerton. The officers tell Roake that they got everyone, but Roake belittles them, knowing better.

Roake manages to find a hidden passage to the cargo bays, and caches Sorlov and his men trying to get to the escape pods. With duel pistols Roake quickly dispatches all but Sorlov, who he needs alive to find out where, 'the chip' is. Almost in a Mexican stand off the two reach for their guns, before BR-NDA deploys a smoke screen and facilitates their escape. Falling towards the moon, Tibbits laments that it's finally over, but Sorlov states "The change coming to Windar is only beginning."

ACT 1

Cut to another ship descending towards Windar's green and pleasant surface. Within are two Jedi Knights on a diplomatic mission, harking back to The Phantom Menace. The master, KARIS, and the apprentice RISTIN, both discuss their mission and essentially set the scene for the viewers.

Windar part of the DEMAR PROVINCES, a collection of planets overseen by the aristocratic DUKE WILHELM DEMAR and his two sons LOUIS and LUCIAN. Recently mining operations on Windar's moon discovered a mother-lode of KYBER CRYSTALS. This has drawn the attention of the UNITED REPUBLIC, who covet the scarce crystals to both facilitate the manufacture of Jedi lightsabres, but also to keep it out of the hands of those who would use them to build Death Star-scale planet destroying weapons.

KARIS and RISTIN have been sent to negotiate with the brothers DeMar for access to the moon's mines, and in return offer the provinces exclusive membership into the Union.

Cut to two lightsabres, one red, one gold, colliding with each other with a mighty crack. We pull back to see the two men wielding them. Two smartly dressed but foppish looking men. These are the brothers mentioned earlier. Louis is the older of the two, handsome but somewhat boyish. His younger brother Lucian is likewise dashing, but has a sinister look to him.

The brothers continue to fight with the lightsabres. They do not wield them like swords, or katanas, however, but fence with them. This fight is a gentleman's friendly. As they thrust their blades back and forth, they throw out the occasional jibe, and reiterate the situation from their perspective. Louis is pleased that they have the chance to join the wider galaxy in the Republic, but Lucian is less convinced, and doesn't want to consider the agreement until he knows "how much they'll pay," for the Kyber crystals. Both mention that undue pressure is upon them from their father.

As the fencing match concludes, the Jedi arrive, and are shocked and surprised to see the two men wielding lightsabres. The brothers explain that they were found on Windar's moon, amongst ruins of a possibly, pre-schism Jedi temple. The Jedi are somewhat miffed that the brothers are treating the relics as playthings, but don't want to cause unnecessary conflict. Louis offer to show the Jedi the mining operation on the moon, while Lucian covertly conceals the two sabres in his belt.

The two groups negotiate as they travel from Windar's palace, a beautiful Versailles-style building built upon green and verdant mountains. The space elevator which they travel to, is a blight on the landscape, and the first sign that all of not well with the mining that has been brought to Windar.

The conversation between the two groups continue as they enter the elevator and begin to ascend to the moon. Lucian boasts that it was built by the Incom corporation "You know, the people that built the X-Wings!" and that it's presence symbolises a new beginning for the DeMar provinces.

As they arrive on the moon, they board a mining transport and head out across the rocky landscape. As it moves, Louis looks down at a gaggle of miners, who glare back at him. Our perspective now shifts to the young miners SHANI and buff Twi'lek T'SALA. They talk about Sorlov's recent escapade, that they have 'the chip' and that a strike can begin any day now. T'sala is enthusiastic, but Shani is unsure they are ready. T'sala reassures her that "We have it in us to make this world anew."

Back with the brothers and the Jedi, Lucian has led them out above a deep cavern that is set out to be their next big mining operation, and massive veins of Kyber can be seen in the rocks below. He presses Master Karis to give him a definitive answer as to how much the Republic is going to pay them for the crystals.

As diplomatically as she can, Karis explains that their payment is membership into the Republic, and that no money is on the table. Once in the union they will be entitled to the privileges therein but are obligated to turn over the crystals gratis. Lucian flies into a fit of rage at this, pulling out his lightsabre and taking Ristin by surprise, killing the apprentice. Louis tries to stop him but gets an elbow to the face and falls back behind a rock.

Karis draws her own sabre and battles Lucian. Quickly it begins to show he is no match for her, but just as it looks like she has him almost disarmed, we see Roake slink onto an overhanging rock, aim a sniper rifle, and fire. Anticipating this, Karis turns, freezing the bolt in place, but in the seconds that she does, Lucian swings his blade into her side, and then cuts off her arm. Now having the upper hand, he makes ready to kill her.

However, having now righted himself, Louis pleads with his brother to stop. When he gets no response, Louis reaches for the other sabre in Lucian's belt, and through a miraculous use of the force, pulls it to his hand. He dives forward, blocking Lucian's blade and saving Karis' life, just as Roake throws down a thermal detonator. The blast knocks Louis and the Jedi master falling into the cavern, and soon darkness envelops the screen.

ACT 2

The darkness fades in to a blurry POV shot. We can see what looks like a rough medical clinic put together in a cavernous room. Sounds of frantic talking and muffled explosions can be heard. Louis is lying in a bed hooked up to a life support machine. Standing over him is Shani and T'sala, arguing. Shani is arguing that their attackers have almost broken through the door, and they don't have time to move Louis in his condition. T'sala argues that she doesn't like the idea of lugging Louis around either, but Sorlov has given them those orders.

The argument is resolved when Louis pulls himself out of bed, frantically demanding to know where he is. The two women can only explain that they have little time, however, as a nearby door is blown down, and Incom troopers enter the room blasting at them. Louis is shocked that Incom, the corporation that "built the X-Wings!" would be responsible for something like this.

Being sure to grab his coat and lightsabre on the way out, Louis follows the miners into a loading bay, where Tibbits and BR-NDA are working on the mechanics of a massive mine cart, attached to a track. Shani demands that they get it ready to go now, but Tibbits insists that it's in no fit state to run the whole route. As the troops start shooting, he concludes they'll have to figure it out on the way.

What follows is a frantic mine cart chase between the protagonists and groups of Incom troopers, led by Roake. As the chase progresses, Louis bickers with Shani and T'sala, who in turn bicker with Tibbit's and BR-NDA, who are constantly tinkering to keep the cart together in one piece.

Roake closes the distance and fires at a loose piece of rock ahead of them, causing it to fall towards our protagonists. Louis cowers, while Shani pulls the sabre from his belt and splits the rock in half, sending the pieces spinning away from them. Further parts of the cave collapse, finalising their escape from Roake.

We then cut to Lucian back in the palace, who is sitting on a fancy chair and trying to move an apple from a fruit bowl with the force. He can't do it. Suddenly, a palace guard enters the room and reports that Lucian has holo-calls from two people waiting. Incom CEO ARCADY LAURANT and his father Wilhelm DeMar.

Lucian talks to Arcady first, who wants to know why his delivery of Kyber crystals is taking so long. Lucian tries to pin the blame on the 'worker problem' but Arcady says that the troops he loaned Lucian and Roake should be more than enough to resolve the matter, and doesn't want to take things into his own hands. Lucian then switches to his father, who is furious that Lucian has installed himself as a de-facto dictator. Lucian tries to lie his way out of things, but his father insists that he will be travelling to Windar post haste to resolve the issue himself.

Lucian is then contacted by Roake, who has no good news for him, and confirms his brother is alive. Lucian then concludes that he is going to need to escalate things if he wants to succeed.

We then follow our protagonist's mine cart arriving at a roughshod headquarters built into what appears to be an old, underground Jedi temple. They lead Louis to Sorlov, who is happy to see him alive, but hardly cordial.

Sorlov fills in what Louis has missed. Lucian, unhappy with the offer from the Republic, has set himself up as de-facto leader of the planet and signed a contract with the Incom corporation "You know, the folks who built the X-Wings." Lucian planned to use the money he made to essentially outmanoeuvre his father, but things didn't go exactly to plan.

You see, quality of life for the miners had been pretty poor for years, and  as such a strike had been brewing for a long time. Sorlov had infiltrated Incom HQ and stole an override chip for the space elevator, which they planned to shut down until they had bargained for better worker protections. Louis is stunned by all of this, and naively thought that the workers were all well compensated.

When Lucian initiated his coup, however, things went from bad to worse, but with the organisation already in place for the strike, Sorlov and the workers initiated a full blown rebellion, and they've been fighting Lucian and Incom with repurposed mining equipment ever since. Louis, however, wants to know where he fits in.

Sorlov explains that they plan to ransom him back to Wilhelm in exchange for deposing Lucian and getting worker independence. Louis explains, however, that it won't work, and that Lucian is probably already planning moves against his father. Sorlov won't hear it, however, and plans to go through with the ransom anyway.

They are interrupted then by the crippled and weak Master Karis. She suggests a different plan. Louis learns the way of the force, returns to Windar and defeats his brother, takes his rightful place and heir to the house and brings an end to the conflict. Sorlov, rightfully, does not trust putting this in the hands of an aristocrat, but Karis insists that the force is strong with him.

Sorlov concedes on one condition. One of the miners themselves is to be trained in the ways of the Jedi too. Louis then offers that it should be Shani, as she distinguished herself with his sabre earlier. She is surprised that he thought so highly of her, but agrees. Karis then reveals she has little time left, as the wounds Lucian gave her were fatal. She will use the rest of what time she has to train them both.

We then proceed to have a training montage amongst the ruins of the old temple, where both characters are seen meditating, practising levitating objects and so forth. We see Shani assembling a lightsaber. Several days are implied to have taken place and through body language we can see Shani and Louis grow a respect for one another.

We then return to the palace, where a gleaming transport is setting down on a rainy landing pad. Out steps Wilhelm with a contingent of armed guards, and Lucian walks out to meet him with his own Incom troopers in tow. Wilhelm berates Lucian about what a disappointment he is, and in turn, Lucian ignites his lightsaber. Wilhelm laughs off the threat, pulling out a vibro-blade of his own, and stating "I taught you everything you know about fencing," The two ask their guards to stand aside, and battle each other one on one.

Wilhelm, despite being equipped with the weaker weapon, easily trounces Lucian and disarms him. He picks up the sabre, and states there will be "no more silliness." Lying in the water, a furious Lucian turns and reaches out his hand, shooting out force lightning and killing Wilhelm with a single blast. Back on his feet, Wilhelm's guards look to each other nervously, before one declares, 'All hail the new Duke!"

We return to the Jedi temple where Shani and Louis stand beside a dying Karis. She is lying in a makeshift bed, finally succumbing to the wounds she suffered fighting Lucian. She states that she had told them all they need to know, and from now on, life would be their teacher. As she fades away, Louis looks on, before being summoned to see Sorlov, who has news.

They arrive at his makeshift command centre and reveal Karis has passed away. Sorlov is shocked, and now apologetic, as he reveals to Louis more bad news, that his father is dead. Already reeling from Karis' death, he flies into a rage, knocking over equipment and smashing computer screens. Shani tries to calm him, but in response he pulls out his lightsaber, swinging it at her, and she she barely has enough time to block it with her own.

Realising what he has done, he puts the weapon away and apologises. Sorlov exclaims that they have no time to grieve, however, as they will need to act quickly. Lucian had no further obstacles, and will quickly consolidate his power. They need to get Louis back to the palace to declare himself legitimate heir and end the conflict.

Sorlov explains his plan. They still have the command chip for the space-elevator, which they can use to bypass it's security and take Louis all the way back to the surface of Windar. With that in mind, he proposes that he, Shani, Tibbits and BR-NDA travel to the moon side of the elevator while T'sala pilots The Morlock, a hybrid starcraft/mining vehicle that looks like a cross between the Millennium Falcon and the Mole from Thunderbirds.

They are to travel underground to the elevator, infiltrate it, and use the chip to bypass it's security. Once Louis is on Windar, they will stage an attack on the surface using repurposed mining ships, led by the Morlock, to give him time and cover to get where he needs to be.

With that the group decide to depart.

ACT 3

We have a short sequence where the group enjoys their downtime during the journey.  We have some goofing around as Tibbits and BR-NDA do some maintenance on the ship, and we get to see more of their 'almost like a married couple' routine. T'sala establishes her credentials as a pilot, being somewhat protective of the Morlock.

Louis and Shani discuss their respective upbringings, and we sort of establish each character's philosophical outlook. She believes that no establishment lasts forever and repeats "We have it in us to make this world anew." Louis, by contrast, can't see beyond his privilege, and clumsily insults her by saying she would make a good aristocrat. She walks off while he tries to fumble an apology, before heading to the helm to speak to T'sala. He and asks her if she had any desire to be trained in the ways of the Jedi. T'sala laughs off such an idea, saying "Jedi don't have a good track record with happy endings."

Tibbits runs in to alert them that they're coming to the end of their underground route, and they'll be exposed once they're out in the air. True enough, as the Morlock bursts through the side of a cliff face, they are immediately ambushed by Incom interceptors, which look similar to X-Wings.

What follows is a short dogfight in the vein of the Death Star escape in a New Hope or the battle through the ruins in Force Awakens. We get some good rapport between the characters, they prevail, and as the entrance to the space elevator comes into view, Roake is seen on a cliff edge watching the Morlock glide by.

He messages Lucian, saying that he has located Louis, and that they are headed for the space-elevator. Lucian confidently states that he is already two steps ahead, as the camera pans forward to show us a factory floor, with massive pieces of Kyber crystal being assembled into... something.

T'sala lands the Morlock not far from the entrance. She says her goodbyes, as she needs to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet to make ready for the attack. She takes Shani to one side, telling her she has a bad feeling about Louis, and not to trust him.

T'sala departs and the remaining group head towards the entrance. They ambush an Incom patrol to steal their armour. In disguise, they approach guards at the entrance, saying that they are escorting a maintenance droid as part of a routine safety inspection.

One of the guards states that he didn't know that Windar used droids since 'the emancipation act' and Tibbits responds that 'she's here of her own volition.' The guards ask "which unit are you from again?" and struggling for an answer Tibbits blows their cover. A battle starts, but Shani and Louis use their Jedi training to prevail. Louis then asks how they're going to get inside the elevator, while Tibbits answers "oh that's easy."

One of BR-NDA's panels drops to reveal a massive mining laser, and she blasts their way through the bulkhead door. The characters then fight their way past the elevator's garrison, on to the main platform. Tibbits and BR-NDA made for the control room and begin to hack the console, while Shani and Louis take cover from repeated blaster shots. More troopers arrive to attack, and they bicker with Tibbits to hurry up.

Eventually they trigger the elevator and begin to ascend. Shani sends a message to T'sala, to let the fleet know they are on their way. T'sala, still in the cockpit of the Morlock, confirms they are ready to go, and Sorlov, in his own fighter, rallies the fleet. A rag tag collection of mining ships and scout craft take off from a makeshift base out in the moon's canyons.

However, as the fleet takes flight, we see that Roake is also ascending in a smaller sub-elevator on the side of the shaft, and he signals Lucian to let him know the fleet is attacking. Back on Windar, Lucian confirms that he is already finalizing his plan. Windar's own fleet, backed by Incom fighters, take off, while a transport picks up what appears to be a massive bomb built from Kyber crystals, and starts to escort it to the elevator.

An awesome space battle begins, as the elevator reaches it's main security gate. This is the gate the override chip is needed to bypass. Tibbits enters the chip into the security system, but at first it doesn't seem to respond. "These things take time," he says. An explosion heard on the exterior proves they don't have much time. BR-NDA leans forward, and extends a small robotic arm, taking the chip out, turning it around and putting it back in. "Easy mistake," Tibbits says.

The gate opens and as they approach the surface of Windar they can see from the viewing port that the massive bomb is waiting for them. In turn, Lucian begins a broadcast to the forces and workers of Windar. Manically, he rants about how he could have been the best leader they ever had, but they were too ungrateful. All he wanted was to be paid a good price, but now if he can't get paid, nobody can. A countdown timer begins on the bomb.

The group signal Sorlov for advice, who states that if the bomb goes off it'll start a chain reaction through the elevator that will detonate the moon and take half of Windar with it. Whatever happens the bomb must be diffused. Tibbits and BR-NDA say they can handle it, but someone will need to cover them. Shani agrees to stay and defend them. Louis must face his brother alone.

Louis makes for the palace, but is met with overwhelming resistance. T'sala flies down in the Morlock to cover him, shooting down the troopers that bar his way. With a little finesse with his lightsabre, he manages to fight his way onto the grounds.

Meanwhile back at the bomb, Roake has now caught up, and faces off against Shani while Tibbits and BR-NDA struggle with the bomb. The two do battle, and while Shani is adept with her lightsaber, Roake is fast and nimble with his blasters. This fight should be very reminiscent of the one between Obi-Wan and Jango Fett in Attack of the Clones. All the while Roake is berating Shani and her fellow miners, saying that they should have been happy in servitude and 'known their place.'

At the palace, Louis finally faces off against Lucian in the very same room they were fencing at the beginning. Louis tries to talk him down, but Lucian is too far gone. He says that the force is compelling him. "The dark side?" Louis asks. Lucian says their are no sides, only one force. They continue to do battle, Lucian viscously swatting at him, no holding back.

At the bomb, Roake appears to have the upper hand, wounding Shani with a shot to the arm. She drops her sabre and falls to her hands and knees. No longer seeing her as a threat. Roake holsters one of his pistols and turns to Tibbits and BR-NDA. It is then that the ghost of Karis appears to Shani, encouraging her on. Fighting through the pain, Shani reaches out, using the force to pull Roake's pistol from his holster. He turns to fire back at her, but before he can, BR-NDA shoots a shock cable at him, electrocuting him, and causing him to fall to the floor, stunned.

Back at the palace, Louis and Lucian's duel has grown out of control. Furniture and decor is being smashed up. Louis kicks Lucian through a glass window out onto a balcony that overlooks a waterfall. They fight some more, but Louis ultimately prevails, disarming Lucian and knocking him to the ground. Lucian then tells Louis that he can't kill him, because he's signed a contract that upon his death Incom will take possession of all the DeMar Provinces. Louis says he has no intention of killing him, and like his father before him, turns his back to pick up Lucian's lightsaber.

Lucian reaches forward and fires a blast of force lightning at Louis, but his brother is too quick, and with both sabres ignited he blocks the lightning, deflecting it back at his brother, the power of which knocks him back over the balcony, causing him to fall to his death. Sorlov then calls in, and announces that the bomb has been diffused and Incom forces are routing, victory is in their hands. Louis, however, has a sombre look on his face as he looks down over where Lucian fell. Shani arrives, and gives him a hug to raise his spirits, telling him "We have it in us to make this world anew."

We then jump forward to Louis, standing outside a gleaming and repaired palace, addressing an assembled crowd of both miners and palace guards. He gives a rousing speech, about how he will be a responsible duke, and a leader to everyone equally. He also emphasises that the battle has not yet been won, and the Incom corporation's ownership over their territories still needs to be overcome, but a new age is upon them, and "We have it in us to make this world anew."

From the sidelines Shani give him a smile, but next to her T'sala looks on suspiciously.

The End

So there you have it. I wanted a relatively self-contained story, which has an opening for sequels, but with no cliffhangers, no stingers, no unresolved mysteries, and no dang mystery boxes. A definitive ending. If sequels were never made, the film would still need to be strong enough to stand on it's own, like the original Star Wars.

As for where the story goes from there, I have concrete ideas.

The second film would be a heist movie that involves the group trying to bankrupt Incom. It would be a more seedy, cyberpunk-type film, with CEO Arcady Laurant as the main villain. There would be stuff about the droid emancipation act, that Incom would be revealed to have ignored, T'sala would get a pole dancing girlfriend from Nar Shaddar and Roake would return in a massive Incom built exosuit.

Most critically of all, the second film would begin with the seeds of a relationship between Louis and Shani, only for this to go sour, as over the course of experiencing a more darker and corrupt version of the galaxy, Louis would conclude that the harsh class divide the aristocracy facilitates is a necessary part of THE galactic order. He'd kill Sorlov and double-cross the miners, setting himself up as the villain for film three.

The third film would have Louis ruling a harsh regime from his family home in the medieval-like planet of Gothrinstone. The plot would involve a full blown civic uprising, as Shani and company rise up the working class to do battle with the aristocracy's elite forces, who Louis has armed with lightsaber type polearms. Shani in turn would be training a new generation of Jedi to face them, and the final battle would be a massive siege against Louis' castle.

In the final battle, Shani would best Louis and ask him to stand down. Louis would try to pull the same trick against her as Lucian did with Karis, but T'sala manages to disarm the sniper first. Shani pleads for him to surrender, but Louis refuses to face the idea of giving up his privileged life, and throws himself from the battlements instead. The trilogy would end with Shani as the de-facto representative of the system, and the final scene would have her being met by a fresh delegation of Jedi, and an offer to join the republic, which she refuses, wanting to go her own way.

So that gives you an outline of the kind of thing I want to do. I hope my writing makes it clear that these films would be completely their own thing, and as such the story is free to go in its own direction. I think Star Wars can tell more stories than just rebels vs an evil empire, as well as not be so dependant on a 'light side/dark side binary.' So bringing in a more messy dynamic, between a ruling aristocracy, striking workers and a greedy corporation, is an interesting new scenario.

If you liked my ideas, or not, let me know what you think. I plan on following this up at some point with a more detailed outline on how I'd picture the rest of the trilogy going, and I might even write a script and upload it to AO3. Who knows.

In the meantime, may the force be with you or whatever.

[myatuesday]

You know there's a lot going on

When there's so much going on

I don't even know how to talk about it

Because I don't even know

How or where to start.

_

But, basically, everything has been turned upside down.

And a recalibration is necessary.

_

I'm extremely worried about money now.

As in... I need to be making it.

_

Due to an emergency and unforseen set of circumstances

Even tho we were :this fucking close:

The new apartment situation has been put on hold, basically indefinitely at this time.

Um...

That relationship is kindof a trainwreck at this time.

Not due to relationship issues

But issues he's dealing with that are frankly life altering for him

Which, of course, effects me by proxy for as long as I remain in the relationship.

_

So very difficult times

Very hard decisions to make

_

I'm caught btwn loyalty

And my NEED to do what's best for me rn

-

In an ideal situation, the two could co-exist

But... that seems devastatingly impossible at this time.

_

Idk wtf I'm going to do.

I just know, I entered this year w a new attitude and new energy

This type of motivation and spike in confidence in my own gifts/talents/whatever doesn't happen much

I need to capitalize on it NOW

I can't squander it trying to solve everyone else's problems, unfortunately.

There is just no time.

And bitch need $$$ now.

Right FN now.

_

So...

Plan A is fucked

Plan B is fucked

Plan C is... who the fuck knows

Plan D is needed

Smh.

Lord have mercy.

_

[Well, no. I take that back.

I still have the same plan for me.

My *personal* plans, particularly where bringing in finances are concerned, hasn't really changed.

It just looks like... I'm on my own now.

No partners. No support. No shared expenses.

So... that is a game changer. Obviously. Smh.

Idk wtf I'm going to do.

I know what I want -

Money wise/career wise/hobby wise, whatever.

I just...

I'm afraid pursuing something like that fully on my own, just me, myself and I... might end up being kind of a wash.

I guess that's my biggest concern.

What's the point of bringing in new income, if I can't stack cash and instead it's all going to support me/pay bills?

That's the current dilemma in my financial house. ]

_

But I'm also ready for independence

I want my life back

I want to make myself a priority again

ALL of this was sort of a subconscious goal for 2021

But... it wasn't really even a goal, just the energy that hit me this year.

But, now, 2021 is here...

And it's a goddamn fucking nightmare.

Is my actual life?

Me, personally...

Not the circus and monkeys around me

But my actual life?

No, not really.

It felt/feels like it, at times, because my life is so connected/intertwined to the people around me

Or because I'm constantly absorbing their energy.

(Which is seriously slowly fucking killing me and has to fucking stop. Immediately.)

But, best I can tell,

Aside from my car issues (yeah, pretty big deal)

My internal personal world

Me, myself and I...

Is still intact.

Which... is just something to consider/for me to not forget, getting lost in the sauce of everyone else's bullshit.

_

I'm terrified.

I don't want to do things 100% on my own

For a multitude of reasons

(And, say I do succeed, what's the point of having money, if I've got no one to share it with?)

But, I've got to do SOMETHING.

_

I've been waiting on this boy for 3+ goddamn years

Yeah, it was F I N A L L Y so close I could taste it

(So to say this goddamn fucking SUCKS is a huge understatement)

But, now, it's fucked.

(For now anyway. Sigh.

Granted, there's nothing saying that a year from now, everything may be better. Idk.)

But it's extremely hard.

And idk what I'm going to do yet.

Somebody gets hurt either way.

But, after 3 goddamn years,

I'm kindof tired of it being me.

I have to move forward w my own goddamn life at some point, with or without him.

It just sucks.

And doesn't sit well with my conscience

At Fucking All.

But... sigh

I'm dying here.

I'm tired of being broke.

I'm tired of feeling stagnant.

I just...

It is what it is

And I have to figure it out

_

I'm constantly looking to the universe for answers

I have been for months now

I'm definitely praying on this issue

Ever since everything changed.

_

Do I want a clear path to magically appear to me?

Um... honestly, yes.

But even though I can't see a clear path

I can certainly see goddamn giant roadblocks, saying NOT HERE.

That's in relationship to pretty much every relationship I have. Atm.

So... everything that's happening, best I can tell, is insisting I must move forward independently in order to get to whatever this next chapter is.

Heartbreaking? Yes.

Terrifying? Absolutely.

But what else can a bitch do?

_

And... the Carter thing

Well, that's a whole other issue

But, equally fucked atm

Totally different reasons

(Mostly being, uh, idk... who the fuck he currently is as a person)

But that relationship, all in all, feels pretty untenable atm.

_

Maybe I take a year for myself

Fall flat on my face, come crawling back begging for mercy (I certainly hope not)

Maybe I take a year and come back, and we're all in a better fucking place

And have a fighting goddamn chance to make something work.

That's the gamble.

_

But I know I can't just sit here and rot

Holding everybody else's hand

While I watch my fucking life pass me by

That much, I know.

How and when I'm going to make those necessary changes remains to be seen.

But... hopefully, time will tell.

And my willingness and drive to reorganize my priorities and put my life (and I pray to god, my money) first will... somehow finally allow the path I'm looking for to magically roll out before me afterall.

I can hope and freakin pray.

[lazella]

Infinity Stones AU: In Which They Met Spiderman...And Venom

I finally finished this one, just in time to relieve your Coronavirus blues. I really hope you enjoy. :)

Yuya and Yuma were having duel, no holograms as they were still working on making the Duel Disks compatible, trying to iron out the difference in rules and card types so that they could do a battle royal later. Yusaku was rather helpful in figuring out how the make the game fair between all the different playstyles. Though no one defeated Yugi, he won every time. But for now he was just watching enjoying the show. Yuma was pretty good but sometimes he would try to ask Astral for help who rather sarcastically reminded Yuma he needed to play on his own. Who knew spirits could be sassy? Yusei was in the lab with Tony working on something, they had been rather secretive about it. Judai was also spectating the match.

“Wait…how do Pendulum Monsters work again?” Yuma asked for the fifth time.

Yuya sighed and prepared to explain again only to be interrupted by a loud thump on the window followed by a voice.

“Oh hey there…loving the hair dye.”

Judai blinked few times, then yelled out back towards the labs, “Tony! There’s a guy in red spandex on the window! Not sure how he got there!”

There was some loud crash noise before Tony and Yusei entered the main room, Tony gave a look at the spandex person, and sighed, “How many times have I told you to call ahead and use the door?”

“But it’s a lot more fun to go swinging around the New York skyline!” The red figure argued back.

“Just go use the door!” Tony sighed, “Boys…meet Spiderman. And yes…he does what a spider does.”

“I’m am also very friendly!” Spiderman insisted as he enter the ‘proper’ way, “And also Mr. Stark why do they have their hair dyed! You wouldn’t let me dye my hair!”

“Believe it or not that is their natural color and no this is not permission to dye your hair.” Tony responded

“But I wear a full face mask! No one would know it was me!”

“You wanted to dye your hair RAINBOW!!!”

“It was going to be for a good cause!”

Yusei whispered to Yugi, “Do they sound like father and son?”

“They do but I don’t think Tony-san has any children.” Yugi said.

“His father tendencies are strong…” Judai added.

“He does a poor job of hiding it…” Yusaku said.

“You think he has other kids he may have ‘adopted’?” Yuya asked.

“I think it’s likely….” Astral said, “I believe he has adopted all of you.”

“Wha?” Yuma was perplexed, “But I still have parents!”

“WHY IS THERE A GHOST?!?!?!”

“Oh…he has noticed me.” The sass was back with Astral.

“Kid calm down….” Tony sighed, “That’s not a ghost…the short one can tell you the full details later.”

“I’m not short!” Yuma protested.

“But why are they here? They don’t look like heroes…” Spiderman asked.

“They have the Infinity Stones.”

“Ooooooooohhhhh…..that makes sense.” Spiderman said, “Think they can help me out?”

Tony arched an eyebrow, “What sort of problem do you have that might need the power of the Infinity Stones for?”

“I think I spotted Venom running amok earlier.”

“What?” Tony froze, “What you mean that you think you saw Venom today?! He’s in lock up!”

“That why I came here! To be sure!”

“Okay fine….” Tony sighed, “JARVIS…can you contact…”

Actually sir….I just received a message stating that Venom has escaped confinement.

“WHEN!?”

Four hours ago.

“AND THEY DIDN’T THINK IT WAS IMPORTANT TO CALL ME?!” Tony stormed over to a wall, pushed a button, and a compartment containing six gauntlets popped out. He tossed on to each of the boys, “Put these on, they are designed to help channel the power of the Infinity Stones, they are prototypes so be careful, now let’s hunt an alien symbiote.” He then stormed off to get suited up.

Judai turned to Spiderman, “So…what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain as we head out…” Spiderman let out a sigh.

………………………

“So we’re are dealing with an alien…”

“Yep…”

“That’s also a parasite.”

“Yep…”

“And it has favorite people it likes to attach to…including yourself.”

“Pretty much.”

“Cool!”

“It’s not cool!” Spiderman rubbed his temples, “It can corrupt and or kill the host!”

“So we still get to fight it right?” Nothing seemed to be fazing Judai at the moment. Spiderman wondered why he was left alone with this kid while Mr. Stark had the others spread out around town with scanners trying to find Venom.

“I rather just bottle it up and not touch it…” Spiderman sighed, “Just thinking about it touching me gives me shivers.”

Judai’s face turned serious, “How so?”

“It gets in your head…tells you things that sound appealing…” Spiderman explained, “But it makes you do stuff you normally don’t do…not to mention it kills most people it tries to attach too.”

“Oooohhhhh…I see…” Judai’s face turned to what Spiderman thought was understanding, “I can see why you didn’t want to deal with it by yourself.”

“It usually doesn’t end well facing Venom alone.” Spiderman said, “Mr. Stark always insists that I now call him up anytime I need to deal with him.”

Judai, can you hear me? Yugi’s voice came over the commlink.

“What is it Yugi-san?”

We spotted Venom. Three blocks east of your location and he’s heading your way fast.

“Got it!” Spiderman was on alert.

We’ll rendezvous as soon as we can. Please don’t do anything stupid please…Tony’s pleading voice came over the commlink.

“No promises…” Judai replied looking over to the direction that Venom was reported to be coming from. In the distance he could see a black figure coming towards them fast. He could see that the silhouette looked like a bulkier version of Spiderman but seemed to be having trouble keeping form.

That thing looks disgusting…. Yubel muttered.

“Looks like a sentient blob trying to copy you Spiderman.” Judai said.

“I guess he doesn’t have a host yet…which is why he’s gunning for me…” Spiderman gulped as Venom leaped for them.

“I’ve got your back!” Judai activated his duel disk and summoned Neos who punched the symbiote disrupting its form making it rain alien goop.

“It’s not going to be that easy…” Spiderman looked around wearingly as the blobs worked back towards each other.

“Neos! Keep the parts separated!” Judai ordered while he ran with Spiderman trying to keep distance between them and Venom jumping down the fire escape two steps at a time.

“Judai!” The brown-haired duelist looked up to see Yusei being dropped off by Tony carrying some equipment. “Mr. Stark has a plan to recapture Venom! Lure him to the nearby park so we can trap him!”

Spiderman seemed to recognize the equipment that Yusei is carrying, “Are those the high frequency disruptors?”

“Part of the plan,” Yusei explained, “Mr. Stark explain Venom’s weakness to me…” He handed Judai and Spiderman what looked like hand held cannons, “I can see you have Neos fighting Venom right now Judai but this is in case he tries attaching to anyone. Now get Neos to bring it to the park.”

“You heard him Neos!” Judai yelled out to his warrior. Neos gave a nod and began taunting the pieces of Venom into following him. The blobs let out a garbled shriek but took the bait. Spiderman grabbed Judai under the shoulders and began web slinging towards the park.

Yuma, Yuya, don’t take this wrong way but I need you two to stay back. Tony’s voice crackled over the commlink.

WHAT?! WHY?! Yuma screech nearly made everyone deaf.

Because dad said so!

“He admitted it finally!” Judai laughed.

W-What I meant was……that I don’t want Venom to be eating you two as a snack….Tony unconvincingly corrected himself.

You know they are going to get involved anyway. Yusei chimed in.

I think this is a proven point by now. Yugi chimed in next.

“Is this normal for you guys?” Spiderman asked Judai.

“Pretty much…” Judai shrugged, “I don’t think Tony is used to the fact that us kids saved our worlds a few times over, so we have little fear of anything.”

“I want to hear that story later.” Spiderman said as they touched down in the park with the Venom blobs hot on their tails.

“Can’t wait to test this out…” Judai grinned as he placed the Power Stone in the prototype gauntlet, the metal gaining a purple hue as it charged up with power. He ran towards the nearest blob and gave it a good punch turning the blob into something that had the consistency of black tar, but it did stop moving.

“Just do that again!” Spiderman cried out as tried to web down the incoming blobs. He spied Yusei setting up a perimeter with the equipment Mr. Stark had given him so he knew that he had to keep Venom’s attention away from him. Ironman himself had made an appearance himself blasting chunks of Venom with hypersonic frequencies. Overall, it was looking like they were having a handle on the situation. That is until Spiderman felt something shove him hard sending him flying across the park. When the world stopped spinning, he sat up and saw Judai trying to pull something black off his arm.

Black…on his arm….

Oh crap….

“MR. STARK! VENOM’S ON JUDAI!!!!!!” Spiderman yelled as loud as he could.

Within an instant, Ironman was on the scene trying to blast Venom off Judai. A task that was proving to be difficult as the other Venom blobs were darting for Judai and the glob that was on him was spreading fast.

“Get away Tony! I’M STARTING TO LOSE CONTROL!!!” Judai’s voice had already started distorting.

“Venom or Haou?” Ironman asked.

“BOTH!!!”

Spiderman had no idea what was going on but judging by the fact Mr. Stark immediately jumped back from Judai was a sign that it was not good. Wind started kicking up around Judai as he let out an inhumane growl and Spiderman could of sworn his eyes changed to a gold color.

“What’s going on!!!!” Yugi had arrived with the rest of the boys all looking shocked.

“Venom’s got Judai and it seems to be in an argument with that dark side of him you guys told me about.” Ironman explained, “Yusei’s almost done setting up the destabilizers and containment but we need to keep Vemon here and not hijack Judai’s body.”

“The Mind Stone trick is not going to work this time is it…” Yusaku glumly stated.

“Probably not…” Yugi frowned, “Yuma, can you do that fusion thing? You may need the extra protection.”

“Astral says if Yuya get set up the field we’ll be all set.” Yuma explained.

“I’ll add a barrier as well just in case…” Yuya focused on his gauntlet with the Reality Stone as a golden field surrounded the park.

Now Spiderman really had no idea what was going on. Even more so when it seemed that Yuma started glowing all sorts of colors and transformed into a really cool looking warrior with plated wings wielding two swords. He was so totally asking for details about that later.

“Yuma, you and I are on close combat!” Ironman started barking orders, “Yugi, Yuya, and Spiderman are on ranged attacks. Yusaku, you fall back with Yusei to make sure the equipment is ready to go on my signal!”

The team immediately acted on the orders. Spiderman watched as Yugi and Yuya used those cards they had to summon more things, a magician in purple armor and a red dragon attacking Judai/Venom when they could. Yuma and Ironman were keeping close slicing any stray bits of Venom that tried to attack or try to attach to a tree in hopes of escape. Spiderman himself was focusing on trapping any limbs that look close to striking anyone.

“Judai! Fight it off!” Yugi cried out.

“I’M TrYINg!!!! IT FeELS LIkE NaiLS IN MY heAD!!” Judai was switching between his own voice, an eerie echo of his own, and Venom’s voice.

“Hang on for one more minute!” Yusei yelled out, “We’re just about ready!”

Judai let out a growl that sounded like an okay and managed to get his uncover side of his body closer to the ground holding the Venom covered arm up.

“Everyone fall back!” Ironman yelled out as everyone got to a safe distance.

When everyone was clear, Yusei activated the sonic disruptors. The effect was instantaneous Venom shrieking, trying in vain to stay attached to Judai. The brown hair boy has having none of it. Judai’s golden eyes met Venom’s.

“If you do not wish to be disintegrated into sand…release me at once!”

With that, Venom finally released Judai. Yusaku immediately activated the containment field trapping the black blob.

Spiderman collapsed in relief; it was finally over.

Ironman helped Judai up and steadied him on his feet, “How did Venom even latch on to you?”

“It was gunning for Spiderman and I just shoved him out of the way.”

Spiderman was shocked, “You…you didn’t have to do that…I could have handled Venom.”

“You told me about your experience and trust me…I have personal experience and I’m sure you didn’t want to go through that again.” Judai just gave him a grin.

“B-But why?”

“It’s what we do for friends.” Was the reply.

“But we just met!”

“Get used to it,” Yugi said, “If Judai has named you a friend then you are a friend.”

“No point in fighting it.” Yusei added.

Spiderman decided to just roll with it. These guys seemed fun to hang out with anyway. It was tough being the youngest member of the Avengers. Finally, he had someone he can nerd with.

“Alright…I’m going to get Venom all bagged up and back into containment. You all head back to the tower and make Judai get looked over by medical. I am not in the mood for surprise side effects.” Tony said between a sigh and a groan.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine….” Judai said in a joking manner.

Tony just gave him a look, “You’ve got a superpowered, dark, alter ego in your head. I am not taking a chance that he picked up a thing or two from Venom”

Judai sighed in defeat, no point in arguing with Tony now.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, I’ll get him back to the tower and to medical,” Spiderman offered, “I’ll even web him to the bed if I need to!”

Tony grinned, “I knew I can count on you kid, we’ll catch up as soon as we’re done here.”

Spiderman gave a salute, scooped up Judai before he could make any sort of protest, and immediately began web slinging back to the tower.

“Do we really have to travel this way!?” Judai yelled over the wind.

“But it’s the route with the best views!”

“If you’re right side up! You’ve got me over your shoulders like a sack of potatoes!”

“It will just be a few minutes and I’ll keep you company while you get checked out by the doctor. Maybe you can show me that card game you were playing.”

That immediately brightened Judai’s mood, “You bet!”

[osleyakomwonkru]

The Octavia Blake Guide to Surviving Lockdown (and What Comes Next)

So it’s been six weeks in isolation. I think? Time has long since become irrelevant. The world is stressed. I’m stressed. Not so much about the coronavirus itself, but everything else surrounding the situation. The isolation. The uncertainty. Society losing its shit. What the world will look like when it is all over, because everything will change whether we want it to or not.

You know, all that fun stuff our favourite characters on The 100 deal with each episode.

Which brings me to this post. What Would Octavia Blake Do?

I mean, she’s got the experience. Sixteen years of isolation in a single room, followed by a year of isolation in another room, then about six months on the ground, followed by six years locked under the ground... she knows better than anyone how to survive these sorts of trying times.

So here we have it - famous Octavia quotes and how to apply them to our current situation. Mostly serious, part irreverent, all of it a homage to the fact that stories matter and can help us figure out how to deal with this messy thing called life.

“A warrior doesn’t worry about what she can’t control.”

This is a mantra I repeat to myself many times a day. Sometimes I believe it. It’s hard. But it really is the only way to keep yourself sane these days. The world has turned upside down, but you can’t control it. You can only control yourself.

I can’t control that 75% of my income earning potential vanished overnight. I can control how I budget the remaining 25%, credit cards and looking into new income streams.

I can’t control that I’m stuck in a country I was supposed to leave this week for however long this continues to go on. I can try and learn to love it again, because we’re going to be spending more time together.

So what else can I do to keep myself healthy and sane? Let’s look at what Octavia does.

Train. One of the first things I started doing as soon as the lockdown started in mid-March was set up an exercise plan. Now, I don’t typically “exercise” in my normal life. I just walk everywhere I need to go and call that good enough. But now that I’m not really doing that, I have to find a way to do so indoors. I started out with three half-hour Zumba sessions per day, and now I’ve worked my way into more specific and targeted workout sessions. YouTube is a godsend. Every type of exercise you could think of, in any time length you want, you can find there. I’m doing abs, arms, more squats than I’ve ever done in my life, kickboxing, etc.

Read. See all those books on your shelves collecting dust? Yeah, read them now. I haven’t been following this advice as much as I should, but I’m making an effort to get better. I have so many unread books and I really should read them. If you’re one of those strange people who don’t have unread books, embrace the opportunities that sites like Project Gutenberg provide and read all the classics online for free. Octavia loves the classics.

Eat healthy. I hadn’t eaten at home for six months before this all started, so I had to refill my pantry and remember how to cook. Keeping your body healthy is important. Get your fruits and vegetables. Also ensure a protein source. Don’t go full on prepper, don’t hoard, but if shit hits the fan and you want to avoid the Dark Year happening in real life, make sure you have a few jars of peanut butter and/or a few packs of beef jerky stashed away for a rainy day. Your neighbours will thank you.

“Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” (Get knocked down, get back up)

At the beginning of this year, no one could have predicted what the state of the world is right now. People made plans. People started putting their plans into action.

Enter coronavirus.

Everything changes.

I actually had a plan for this year. I was going to leave here this week, go back to Canada for six months, then move to Spain. Well... I don’t know what’s going to happen now. And because of the uncertainty, I can’t know. This has made me so mad, because for the first time in years I had a strategy for the changes I wanted to make in my life, and now they’d all been shot to sunshine.

Some days you have to just scream. (Or cry and spend the day eating quesadillas in a blanket fort. True story.) But then after that happens, you have to brush yourself off, get up again and keep going.

Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.

I’m not making any plans further than today. I know that’s an exercise in futility right now. All I can do is focus on what I can control (see above point) and continue to focus on that and what I can do for myself until there are things that I can do in the world again.

Moral of the story: Yes, there are going to be shitty days. You’ve probably already had a bunch of them. But you have to pick yourself up again and keep going when they’re over. You might feel like you want to give up. Heaven knows Octavia’s felt like that a lot of times. But she still kept going. If she stubbornly fought through a cliff dive with a stab wound and a quicksand pool of Orbeez, we can handle some uncertainty and delayed life plans.

“The sword doesn’t care what you meant, it just cuts.”

Time to step onto a soapbox for a bit.

Some world leaders and governments have done admirably with dealing with this crisis. Some have done okay. Some have done so fucking awful at their jobs and continue to spout nonsense from their podiums that it is going to cause real people to die. (Not naming any names, but I’m sure you know what I mean.)

Octavia is the only character on this show who understands that when you’re in a tough situation, what your intentions are doesn’t matter, it is only the results that do. This is applicable to our situation today in a twofold manner.

Point One: We can only control our own actions. That means being a responsible citizen, following public health guidelines. Stay home. If you have to go out, practice social distancing and any other recommendations set out by your public health authority. You might say you’re young and healthy, you’re not concerned about if you get the virus, but it is not about you. You could be asymptomatic and not know it. You might not mean to get someone else sick - someone who is more vulnerable - but it could still happen if you don’t behave responsibly. So take ownership of your actions and do what you can to minimize the spread.

Which brings us to Point Two: You can’t control other’s actions, but you can hold them accountable for them. Which in this situation mostly means your country’s leaders. Do not forget how they responded to this crisis. Remember. Remember when it is time to vote. Did they do a good job or did they do a bad job? How many people lived or died because of what they said? Did they follow the advice of medical experts? And so on. This isn’t a time for party politics, this is a time for “can we rely on this leader to do what’s right for the people of this country when we’re in a crisis?” If the answer is no, vote for somebody else.

The same applies to non-governmental leaders - leaders of business and charities and everything else that you can think of. Remember who stepped up and helped people when and how they needed it. Remember who didn’t. Remember who actively made lives worse. Budget your money accordingly.

“Kom folau oso na gyon op.” (From the ashes we will rise)

This will pass.

When, we don’t know. How, we don’t know. But all we can do is work on ourselves and make ourselves as strong as we can for whatever the future brings us. 

Some people are optimists, believing that this will usher in a new world where more people understand the challenges that others have always faced with things like mental health or physical disabilities and issues of accessibility and so on. Where more people will be aware of the dangers of climate change. Where people who are now coming together online and building hope and change will continue to do so in person when we can leave our homes and meet up with others again.

Some people are pessimists, believing the world will collapse and we’ll enter into a post-apocalyptic scenario like The 100 or any of the other dozens of post-apocalyptic media offerings out there. Where it’ll be every person for themselves and panic and destruction will reign supreme.

You don’t have to speculate on the different scenarios. That’s not helpful right now. All you can do is work on yourself and make yourself ready for whatever the future will throw at us, and do your part in making a positive one.

This could be the point of lockdown where you’re starting to move out of the panic phase of ensuring survival, and are able to move into higher-level brain function again. If you’re not, that’s okay, it could still take some time. If you’re struggling, don’t be afraid to ask for help. There are people out there who can help. Just remember that this is a process, a process of so many different emotions, sometimes on a loop, sometimes all at once in a flurry of chaos, and that’s okay.

Take care of yourself. Survive. Find a new normal.

Octavia’s journey in season six was about shedding the pain and trauma of her old life, and finding a new one to believe in. Until she did that, she didn’t have to worry about the greater plot nonsense that was going on. That’s our journey now too. The world is changing. How, we don’t know yet. But take this time to make yourself strong for whatever is to come, because whichever scenario wins out, a strong you will always be beneficial.

Ste yuj. (Stay strong.) Because humanity is resilient. And from the ashes, we will rise.

[suttcnfm]

hi  it’s  me  your  least  favorite  (  and  most  favorite  )  person  hailey  back  at  it  again  making  a  bio  that’s  way  too  long  .  this  is  sutton  ,  she’s  my  whimiscal  fairy  child  who’s  endured  a  lot  please  be  gentle  with  her  !!  or  ruin  her  life  !!  whatever  you  want  !!

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊.  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

( elizabeth lail, cisfemale, she/her, pisces, 25 ) i spotted sutton harvey at the beach today. don’t you know them? they live down by the boardwalk and usually hang out with the artists & boho clique. from what i’ve heard, they can be finicky, but they’re also effervescent. i always think of them when i hear fuck it i love you - lana del rey and tend to associate them with mom jeans stained with acrylic paint, the taste of strawberry lemonade, & white cotton sundresses

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 

sutton elise harvey

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬) 

her mom used to call her ellie

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 

february 22nd

𝐚𝐠𝐞 

twenty - five ( 25 )

𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 

five foot eight inches ( 5′ 8″ )

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

female 

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 

she / her

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧(𝐬)

painter and art contributor for sunhollow museum

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞(𝐬) 

english & french

𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 

bisexual & biromantic

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦

elizabeth lail

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜

pisces sun, gemini rising, & aries moon

𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

chaotic neutral 

𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢 

enfp-a

𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞

type 4w3 ( the individualist )

𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 

sanguine-melancholic

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 

hufflepuff

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 

how she loves others - acts of service, gift giving, & quality time

how she needs to be loved - quality time & physical touch

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨

cassie ainsworth ( skins )  ,  luna lovegood ( harry potter )  , bubbles ( powerpuff girls ) , claire colburn ( elizabethtown ) , bmo ( adventure time )

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

triggers  (  these  are  all  the  triggers  as  they  appear  throughout  ,  they  will  be  tagged  accordingly  )  :  death  mention  ,  cancer  and  death  tw  ,  drug  mention  ,  sexual  assault  tw  ,  addiction  tw  ,  drugs  tw  ,  and  drug  mention

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 

the  first  time  warm  brown  eyes  peered  into  her  mothers  a  connection  was  formed  ,  the  eldest  daughter  to  what  would  soon  be  an  expansive  harvey  household  .  this  very  moment  would  be  the  catalyst  of  a  bond  that  formed  sutton  into  who  she  is  ,  though  i  am  getting  ahead  of  myself  .

sutton  harvey  grew  up  in  julian  california  a  town  that  carried  the  suffocating  small  town  feel  of  suburbia  despite  being  mere  minutes  outside of  the  hustle  and  bustle  of  los  angeles  .  though  it  should  be  mentioned  that  she  preferred  the  quiet  stillness  of  a  town  where  she  could  known  by  someone  for  something  .

her  parents  were  an  interesting  pair  .  her  mother  a  free  spirited  enigmatic  young  woman  who  believed  in  healing  through  love  and  nature  ,  and  her  father  a  struggling  mean  -  spirited  business  tycoon  always  looking  for  the  next  thing  he  could  exploit  .  but  despite  their  clashing  personalities  and  seemingly  opposite  morals  ,  they  were  in  love  ,  had  been  since  high  school  ,  and  they  balanced  each  other  out  almost  perfectly  . 

but  as  it  turns  out  almost  perfect  wasn’t  good  enough  for her  father  ,  who  split  when  she  was  eight  ,  leaving  behind  sutton’s  heart  broken  mother  ,  and  five  kids  to  raise  alone  .

the  family  was  hardly  making  a  enough  to  survive  before  the  sudden  departure  of  her  father  ,  and  so  this  left  an  eight  -  year  -  old  sutton  to  step  up  to  the  plate  and  help  her  mother  ,  raising  her  siblings  while  her  mom  tried  to  find  steady  work  .   

as  the  years  went  on  and  her  siblings  had  more  and  more  needs  things  only  got  more  difficult  .  trying  to  provide  for  five  children  on  one  paycheck  isn’t  exactly  the  easiest  thing  that  one  can  do  after  all  .

sutton  prayed  that  she’d  be  graced  with  the  same  mean  streak  that  her  father  had  ,  but  alas  she  was  gentle  at  heart  ,  similar  to  her  mother  an  enigmatic  personality  that  was  hard  to  pin  down  .

while  it  worked  in  her  benefit  with  most  people  ,  it  is  difficult  to  raise  children  without  practical  dreams  ,  something  sutton  had  never  been  a  fan  of  ,  there  were  times  when  this  became  a  point  of  contention  between  her  and  younger  sister  reece  ,  but  for  the  most  part  her  siblings  recognized  how  difficult  a  thing  their  sister  was  doing  .  

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞. 

DEATH MENTION  her  teenage  years  came  much  faster  than  she  anticipated  ,  and  while  life  had  been  mostly  smooth  sailing  in  her  eyes  ,  there  were  things  that  sutton  simply  wasn’t  prepared  for  .  the  loss  of  her  mother  was  one  of  them  .

CANCER & DEATH TW  unbeknownst  to  any  of  her  children ,  behind  the  scenes  sutton’s  mother  had  been  suffering  from  breast  cancer  ,  and  she’d  opted  out  of  getting  treatment  ,  something  they  couldn’t  afford  with  the  minimal  money  she  was  bringing  in  ,  and  instead  she  suffered  in  silence  so  they  would  have  a  chance  at  survival  .

everyone  ,  including  sutton  herself  ,  expected  her  to  break  .  the  bond  that  the  two  had  built  was  immeasurable  and  sutton  had  never  shown  the  ablitiy  to  be  grounded  before  .  her  and  her  mother  were  both  two  enigmas  perfectly  coexisting  ,  and  suddenly  it  was  up  to  sutton  to  figure  out  what  to  do  .

DRUGS & ALCOHOL TW   enter  sutton’s  aunt  ,  claire  ,  who  begrudgingly  left  her  life  in  las  vegas  to  come  and  watch  over  her  nieces  and  nephews  at  the  price  that  she  would  blow  most  of  the  money  the  received  on  drugs  and  alcohol  .

DRUG MENTION  there  wasn’t  a  day  sutton  could  remember  that  she  didn’t  come  home  to  her  aunt  passed  out  with  vodka  bottles  littering  the  floor  or  strung  out  on  coke  with  a  man  sutton  had  never  seen  before  on  their  couch  .

sutton’s  resilience  was  the  only  thing  that  kept  her  going  ,  she  shielded  her  siblings  from  as  much  as  she  could  ,  knowing  that  this  was  the  last  thing  they  needed  to  be  their  reality  ,  and  for  the  most  part  ,  it  worked  .

SEXUAL ASSAULT TW  then  came  another  decimating  blow  ,  on  a  day  like  any  other  sutton’s  aunt  for  once  sober  enough  to  drive  ,  pulled  sutton  out  of  school  early  and  took  her  home  .  and  what  seemed  like  an  out  of  character  behavior  for  aunt  to  exhibit  ,  became  crystal  clear  when  sutton  saw  the  man  waiting  for  her  on  the  couch  .

SEXUAUL ASSAULT TW  this  became  another  habit  of  her  aunt’s  ,  pulling  sutton  out  of  school  in  order  to  use  her  body  to  score  drugs  .  then  bringing  her  back  and  forcing  her  to  act  normal  ,  as  if  things  were  still  totally  fine  .

sutton  put  on  a  brave  face  for  her  siblings  ,  but  was  slowly  cracking  under  the  pressure  of  everything  that  seemed  to  be  perfectly  chipping  away  at  the  person  she  once  was  .

this  is  until  she  met  a  boy  ,  a  musician  with  a  similar  story  to  hers  ,  who  she  completely  connected  with  in  a  way  that  was  rivaled  only  by  her  mother  .  him  and  her  seemed  to  have  the  same  bleeding  wounds  that  could  only  be  healed  by  each  other  .

cue  nights  at  the  beach  ,  swapping  stories  ,  and  endless  road  trips  confined  to  their  little  bubble  of  bliss  .  he  fueled  the  artist  within  her  .  painting  upon  painting  of  the  way  he  made  her  feel  ,  how  his  music  moved  her  ,  for  once  the  world  didn’t  seem  so  cruel  .

but  of  course  ,  the  world  was  determined  to  prove  sutton  harvey  wrong  .  with  a  sudden  disappearance  of  both  her  first  love  and  her  aunt  ,  the  latter  of  which  ran  back  to  vegas  with  her  new  beau  ,  she’d  felt  abandoned  just  as  before  .  and  here  is  where  sutton  harvey  finally  cracked  .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡. 

she  and  her  siblings  moved  in  with  her  father  ,  who  living  a  more  lavish  and  childless  lifestyle  with  his  new  fiancée  in  san  diego  .  the  harvey  siblings  were  yet  again  tasked  with  raising  themselves  .

ADDICTION TW  with  her  siblings  growing  older  ,  and  sutton  having  mounds  of  unprocessed  trauma  ,  and  she  began  to  mix  with  the  wrong  crowd  .  finding  the  numbing  of  substances  felt  better  than  the  hollow  numbness  of  being  abandoned  by  every  person  she’d  ever  loved  .

art  and  school  alike  became  distant  priorities  as  she  spent  her  last  nights  as  a  senior  doing  ecstasy  on  the  beach  and  hooking  up  with  randoms  just  to  feel  alive  again  .

DRUGS TW after  just  barely  graduating  ,  sutton  spent  her  new  found  freedom  getting  high  ,  having  sex  ,  and  wasting  her  life  away  .  struggling  to  find  any  sense  of  self  in  everything  she’d  done  ,  her  entire  life  seemed  to  have  been  lived  for  other  people  .

this  only  made  her  further  spiral  ,  trying  to  convince  herself  that  even  though  this  was  having  a  negative  toll  on  her  ,  at  least  for  once  she  was  living  for  herself  .

DRUG MENTION  this  was  until  while  she  was  coming  down  from  an  immense  high  she  stumbled  upon  a  record  store  where  through  the  window  she  caught  a  small  glimpse  of  her  past  ,  of  the  person  she  used  to  be  ,  the  face  of  the  boy  who’d  up  and  left  all  those  years  ago  .

her  entire  world  seemed  to  collide  with  her  heart  at  that  very  moment  .  for  a  fleeting  moment  she  felt  like  the  girl  she  was  in  high  school  ,  full  of  life  ,  love  ,  and  most  importantly  art  .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

after  this  near  encounter  with  her  past  self  ,  she  worked  heavily  on  getting  sober  .  and  has  now  been  clean  for  five  years  !!

after  her  first  year  of  getting  sober  she  worked  multiple  jobs  to  buy  a  small  studio  apartment  where  she  could  begin  painting  again  ,  and  even  made  strides  to  reconnect  with  her  father  and  her  siblings  whom  she’d  since  distanced  herself  from  .

soon  enough  she  became  an  art  contributor  for  the  local  museum  and  earns  her  income  between  hosting  small  art  galleries  on  the  pier  and  the  aforementioned  art  contributions  .

after  three  years  of  sobriety  ,  more  widely  recognized  art  ,  and  a  proper  relationship  with  her  father  ,  he  gifted  her  a  beach  house  where  she  spends  a  majority  of  her  time  .

what  started  as  one  cat  to  keep  her  company  turned  into  nine  because  if  there’s  one  thing  that  sutton  lacks  it’s  control  .

she  has  fully  embraced  the  person  she  was  and  the  person  she  aims  to  be  .  her  personality  is  a  direct  influence  on  who  her  mother  was  because  if  there’s  anyone  that  sutton  looks  up  into  in  life  ,  it’s  her  .  the  best  way  i  could  describe  her  personality  is  the  embodiment  of  the  quote  ,  “ i  could  never  be  the  main  character  . i  exist  solely  in  the  fevered  imaginations  of  sensitive  writer-directors  to  teach  broodingly  soulful  young  men  to  embrace  life  and  its  infinite  mysteries  .  ”

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 

lavender

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 

light fog because she likes the scenery it creates

𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲 

dawn,  there’s something pure to her about the stillness of the earth at that time of  day and !! it’s when she gets a lot of her painting done !!

𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥(𝐬) 

butterflies and elephants

𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬

🍒🥺✨😡🌈🦋🤡🥰

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

penelope harvey ; deceased

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

maxwell harvey  ;  alive

𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬)

reece harvey ; sister 

elizabeth harvey ; sister 

wyatt harvey ; brother 

casey harvey ; brother 

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 

𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

high  school  diploma

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬 

in  order  of  breed  :  poppy  (  scottish  fold  )  ,  milo  (  scottish  fold  )  ,  taz  (  scottish  fold  )  ,  jasper  (  british  shorthair  )  ,  archie  (  british  shorthair  )  ,  sadie  (  british  shorthair  )  ,  ginger  (  maine  coon  )  ,  hunter  (  maine  coon  )  ,  and  felix  (  maine  coon  )

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬

painting  ,  sketching  ,  learning  languages  ,  reading  ,  photography  ,  writing  ,  sewing  ,  thrifting  ,  playing  instruments  (  mostly  the  guitar  )  ,  and  baking 

𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

a  beach  house  gifted  from  her  father  but  splits  her  time  between  a  studio  apartment  cramped  with  art  and  a  beach  house  filled  with  cats 

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

has  a  tendency  to  not  sleep  enough  ,  has  occasional  nightmares  ,  and  is  prone  to  frequent  tossing  and  turning  .  but  when  she  does  fall  asleep  ,  it’s  almost  a  guarantee  you  won’t  be  able  to  wake  her  up  .  she’s  an  extremely  heavy  sleeper  . 

𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

honestly  it’s  a  toss  -  up  she  either  eats  junk  food  for  a  straight  week  and  has  never  seen  a  vegetable  in  her  life  ,  or  she  is  on  a  health  binge  and all  you’re  going  to  find  in  her  house  is  snap  peas  and  baby  carrots  .

𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

sunrises  ,  house  plants  ,  soft  hands  ,  fuzzy  socks  ,  the  color  yellow  , vanilla  scented  candles  ,  soft  lips  ,  rosy  cheeks  ,  strawberries  ,  freshly manicured  nails  ,  over  sweetened  coffee  ,  kiss  marks  on  napkins  ,  dewy  skin  ,  french  words ,  paint  stained  clothing  ,  midnight  conversations  ,  a  sweet tooth  ,  gold  jewelry  , warm  hugs  ,  gentle  voice  , and  dancing  in  the  rain  .

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊.  𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

uhhhh  so  i  have  wasted  all  my  brain  power  on  this  so  some  suggestions  are  exes  ,  fwbs  ,  unrequited  crushes  ,  skinny  love  ,  slow  burn  ,  a  girl  squad  ,  ride  or  dies  ,  work  friends  or  maybe someone  who  admires  her work  ,  best  friends  ,  fake  relationship  ,  enemies  ,  ex  -  friends  ,  enemies  turned  friends  ,  friends  turned  enemies  ,  good  influence  ,  bad  influence  , old  party  friends  ,  one  night  stand(s)  , ,  neighbors  ,  secret  friends  ,  and  those  are  all  the  suggestions  i  can  come  up  with  at  the  moment  !  feel  free  to  message  me  with  plot  ideas  i�� promise  i  will  scream  and  cry  over  .

[vespertine-legacy]

❤ OC’s first time working with a force-sensitive for Zuvi! (was it a Sith or a Jedi?? Either way, she probably fucked them, and I'm worried.)

Putting the response under a cut, because it got a little longer than I expected, whoops! Here’s Zuvi’s first time (unintentionally) working with a Jedi!

Zuvi laid out her cards out on the table with a wry grin. A Rodian groaned and tossed his cards down. A human who had already folded clicked her tongue approvingly. The Herglic directly across from Zuvi let out a sound from deep in his throat, like a growl, but when his mouth finally opened it mercifully became a rumbling laugh.

“You’re lucky I don’t think you’re stupid enough to cheat, girlie,” The Herglic’s deep voice, and the fact that some of the sounds he made came out through the blowhole on top of his massive head rather than his mouth, made his Basic a little difficult to understand, but he spoke slowly enough for Zuvi to follow.

“Kalaan, I like you too much to cheat you the first time you invite me to play sabacc,” Clearing the table of credit chits, Zuvi winked at the massive cetacean. “Now let’s talk about those guns.”

“So quick to move to business--”

“Which one of you lowlifes is Foulblood?” A tall Mirialan man, a few years older than Zuvi by the looks of him, shoved his way past two burly guards posted at the cantina entrance. 

All around the room, blasters came out of holsters. Zuvi noticed the outline of a lightsaber under the man’s robes against his hip. Based on the drabness of his attire, Zuvi assumed the man to be a Jedi, but what was a Jedi even doing on this part of Brentaal? Kalaan pushed back his chair and stood to his full, towering height.

With a sharp exhale through his blowhole, Kalaan motioned to the Jedi. “I’m the one you’re looking for. Now come here before one of my men puts more holes in you than you’ll ever be able to fix.”

After glancing around the room and waiting for several cantina patrons to reholster their weapons, the Jedi took long, confident strides to Kalaan’s table. Stopping in what looked to Zuvi like a textbook defensive stance he had learned a week ago, the Jedi raised a hand.

“Kalaan Foulblood, you want to stop extorting the people of this district.” After opening his mouth, the Jedi seemed much less confident than he had in his swagger across the cantina floor.

“Yeah, okay,” Kalaan sat back down without looking at the Jedi, gathering the cards for the next hand.

The Jedi looked flustered that Kalaan was unaffected, standing dumbfounded and staring at him while stumbling over what to say next.

“Anything else, boy?”

“I--the people--you--” the Jedi trailed off into a noise of frustrated resignation.

“Thought so,” Kalaan started to deal the cards. “You should probably go now.”

Gathering his resolve, the Jedi drew his lightsaber. “No! Kalaan Foulblood, I came here with a job and I’m not leaving until I’m finished. Either you will agree to stop taking advantage of the people of this district or I will make you.”

At the sight of his drawn lightsaber, Zuvi rocked back in her chair with one hand on a blaster and the other on a shield generator, glancing between the kitchen door and the main door to quickly figure her best exit plan when the shooting started.

“Boy, you were just irritating at first, but that was a really bad idea. Kill him.” Kalaan gestured to the Rodian and the human at the table with two fingers. Almost as an afterthought, he flicked his hand toward Zuvi. “Her too.”

“What?!” Zuvi leapt from her seat, diving past the human enforcer as she stood, and rolled toward the kitchen, activating a shield and drawing her blasters. “Kalaan, I’m not with him!”

Kalaan laughed over the blaster fire erupting from his enforcers, being deflected by the Jedi. Some patrons of the cantina unholstered their weapons again, unsure whether they were invited to join in the attack on the two Mirialans.

“I thought you were smart, girlie?”

A blaster bolt whizzed past Zuvi’s head close enough for her to feel the heat from it and she ducked back below her shield. She fired a shot that hit the Rodian’s gun, knocking it out of his grasp and making him curse, before making a break for the relative safety of the kitchen, hoping Kalaan’s preferred table was placed there for the same reason she needed it to be. As she slid behind a counter, spotted a doorway in the back of the kitchen, and braced on her hands and knees to sprint for it, Zuvi heard the Jedi cry out in pain--he must not have been able to deflect everything.

Hesitating, and hating herself for it, Zuvi turned back toward the cantina proper, peering around the counter. The human enforcer was hunched behind an overturned table, holding an arm with a nasty-looking burn. Kalaan had drawn a blaster. One of the Jedi’s arms hung limply at his side, but he still swung his saber to deflect incoming bolts, even though he had not yet been able to advance and make an attack.

Old gods, I am stupid.

“Jedi!” Zuvi didn’t wait to see if the Jedi looked in her direction, but hoped that he did, before throwing a flash grenade at Kalaan and scrambling to the Jedi to grab him by his uninjured arm. “Come on, you can’t win this.”

Zuvi thanked every deity she knew of that the Jedi didn’t resist her, that he disengaged his saber and clipped it back to his belt, that when her hand slid down his arm he laced his fingers with hers and ran behind her without argument until she stopped. They didn’t have to go far--just out of the entertainment district. Kalaan himself wouldn’t follow, and he didn’t seem the type to send his goons after a (frankly laughable) Jedi and a smuggler. As they entered the residential sector, Zuvi dropped the Jedi’s hand and collapsed onto a bench.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” Tentatively, the Jedi sat on the end of the bench, in the small space allowed by Zuvi’s sprawled form.

“You ruined my deal.”

“That man is evil. You shouldn’t be dealing with him.”

“That man takes better care of the people in this district than their officials do.” Rolling onto her back, Zuvi put her feet in the Jedi’s lap and braced herself on her elbows. “His protection fees are more reasonable than the city taxes, and he does a lot of legitimate trade!”

“Was the trade you were doing with him legitimate?”

“Irrelevant, since you ruined the deal. And did you even have a plan? Aside from hand-waving?” Zuvi gave the Jedi a hard stare. “You know Herglics are immune to all that, right?”

The Jedi’s yellow-green cheeks turned a deeper, mossier shade, and he gnawed on his lower lip.

“My Master might not have prepared me as well for this mission as he should have.” The Jedi stared at the ground in front of him. “I just wanted to help these people.”

“And they tell me I’m stupid…” Zuvi muttered under her breath before pulling herself into a sitting position. “What’s your name, Jedi?”

“Payek Lah.”

“Well, Payek. You wanna help people, you need to do your research before you go in lightsaber blazing, or you’re gonna get killed.” After a pause, she looked at Payek thoughtfully. “Or you need to think a lot quicker on your feet. I can get away with not having a plan, but I clearly think faster and I’m a lot cuter than you are.”

Payek frowned at her, unsure whether to be insulted.

“This has been a lot of fun, but I need to go, because you really did ruin a very good job for me, and I need to find a new one.” Zuvi leaned forward to kiss Payek’s cheek--mostly to see how many shades deeper his blush could turn--before pushing off from the bench and turning to walk toward the spaceport. She called over her shoulder to him, “Work on not getting killed, yeah?”

“Wait! I want to know your name. I--” Payek choked a little on his words. “I want to see you again.”

Zuvi turned to face him and gave a short, theatrical bow. “Captain Nizuvhi Kenno, at your service--if you can pay.”

[xhxhxhx]

“The Only Real Exception”

After writing about the education-polarization thesis and the future of Europe and Asia, I was curious: Has Japan polarized? One of Thomas Piketty’s students studied the question. They came to a surprising answer.

As Western Europe and North America have become increasingly polarized around education and income, Japan has actually depolarized.

Western Europe and Japan started in different places. In Western Europe, the educated classes traditionally supported parties of the right. In postwar Japan, they supported parties of the left. They moved in different directions. In Western Europe, the educated moved left. In Japan, they moved right.

From Amory Gethin, “Cleavage structures and distributive politics”: 

7.6 The end of ‘cultural politics’

One of the other specificities of Japanese electoral behaviour is the fact that higher educated individuals have continuously supported left-wing parties, especially during the twenty years following the end of World War II. The historical strength of education levels in predicting party choice in Japan is well-known: it reflects the freezing of the party system which had emerged in the context of the ‘cultural politics’ of the 1950s (Watanuki, 1991).

Even when controlling for the significant improvements in citizens’ education levels since the 1960s, this pattern has persisted for most of the second half of the twentieth century. In the 1960s, 65% of the 20% least educated voters supported the Liberal Democratic Party, against 41% of voters belonging to the top education decile (figure 7.3c). During recent years, however, these differences have decreased considerably, and popular vote for the LDP has oscillated between 40% and 45% for all education groups in 2009-2014. Looking more closely at intellectual elites confirms this evolution (figure 7.3d). In 1963-1967, top 10% educated voters were indeed less likely to support the LDP by about 15 percentage points (8 percentage points after controls). This figure remained broadly stable, staying between 5 and 10 percentage points during the 1963-1996 period. Starting in 2009, however, education lost significance, even when including controls. The decline of the Social Democratic Party during the 1990s and its replacement by the Democratic Party of Japan – which culminated by its victory in 2009 – therefore seems to coincide with the disappearance of what was one of the most fundamental political divisions of Japanese society. The fact that this dealignment was sudden and occurred at the same time as shifts in the structure of party politics suggests that this process is driven by top-down mechanisms rather than long-run evolutions in collective beliefs. 

7.7 From a multiple elites party system to political indifferentiation? 

Bringing these two dynamics together points to a trend which is the exact opposite of the one observed in most Western countries (figure 7.4). In the 1960s, intellectual and economic elites were clearly separated into two different groups. On the left of the political spectrum, university graduates were highly supportive of the Japanese Communist Party and the Japanese Socialist Party, who based their appeal more on liberal values than on class antagonisms. Meanwhile, the Liberal Democratic Party attracted both low income earners and business elites. Through its defense of organized capitalism, it created strong ties with top executives and industrial leaders who participated in developing Japan’s growth model. This structure of political competition suddenly ended in 2009, when the LDP was defeated for the first time. 

While these figures suggest that Japan was originally a perfect example of a multiple elites party system, this characterisation should not be over-emphasised. Persistently strong levels of support for the party among low income earners demonstrates that the LDP has never favoured exclusively economic elites. As was highlighted above, part of its remarkable hegemony came from its ability to distribute equally the fruits of the country’s long periods of growth. The non-linearity of the relationship between income and electoral behaviour is, to some extent, an interesting representation of the Japanese social compromise, which came with its dominant-party system. 

Piketty describes Japan as the exception to the education-polarization rule. From Capital and Ideology:

The only real exception to this general evolution of the structure of political cleavages within the electoral democracies of developed countries seems to concern Japan, which has never really experienced a party system of classist type comparable to those observed in European countries and Westerners during the post-war period. The Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) has been in power almost permanently in Japan since 1945. Historically, this almost hegemonic conservative party has achieved its best scores in the rural and agricultural world and among the urban bourgeoisie. The LDP thus succeeded in synthesizing between the economic and industrial elites and traditional Japan, around a project of reconstruction of the country, in a complex context marked by the American occupation and an anticommunism exacerbated by the Russian-Chinese proximity. Conversely, the Democratic Party (main opposition party) has generally achieved its best scores among modest and average urban employees and among the most highly qualified, who are willing to protest against the presence of the United States and the new moral and social order embodied by the LDP, but without succeeding in sustainably gathering an alternative majority8. More generally, the specific structure of the political conflict in Japan must be linked to the particular form taken by Japanese cleavages around nationalism and traditional values9.

8. See A. GETHIN, Cleavages Structures and Distributive Politics, op. cit., p. 89-100. See also K. MORI MCELWAIN, « Party System Institutionalization in Japan », in A. HICKEN, E. MARTINEZ KUHONTA, Party System Institutionalization in Asia, Cambridge University Press, 2015, p. 74-107.

9. In The Game of the Century [The Silent Cry] (1967), Kenzaburô Ôé magnificently evokes the complexity and the violence of the relations between the intellectual elites and the popular classes in Japan, in particular around the urban-rural divide, traditional values and the question of the modernization of the country since the beginning of the Meiji era (1868), without forgetting the role played by the geopolitical positioning of the archipelago, the relationship with the United States and the antagonisms aroused by the presence of Korean workers.

Perhaps Japan was a precociously modern society in the 1960s, with an educated left and a uneducated right. Or perhaps it was a “post-colonial” society, with a self-consciously anti-imperialist left. 

The Japanese experience of the 1960s can certainly sound precociously modern. In Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian Wood (1987), one working class student was put off by the 1960s educated left:

"You know, when I went to university I joined a folk-music club. I just wanted to sing songs. But the members were a load of frauds. I get goose-bumps just thinking about them. The first thing they tell you when you enter the club is you have to read Marx. ‘Read page so-and-so to such-and-such for next time.’ Somebody gave a lecture on how folk songs have to be deeply involved with society and the radical movement. So, what the hell, I went home and tried as hard as I could to read it, but I didn't understand a thing. It was worse than the subjunctive. I gave up after three pages. So I went to the next week's meeting like a good little scout and said I had read it, but I couldn't understand it. From that point on they treated me like an idiot.

“I had no critical awareness of the class struggle, they said, I was a social cripple. I mean, this was serious. And all because I said I couldn't understand a piece of writing. Don't you think they were terrible?"

"Uh-huh," I said.

"And their so-called discussions were terrible, too. Everybody would use big words and pretend they knew what was going on. But I would ask questions whenever I didn't understand something. "What is this imperialist exploitation stuff you're talking about? Is it connected somehow to the East India Company?' "Does smashing the educational-industrial complex mean we're not supposed to work for a company after we graduate?' And stuff like that. But nobody was willing to explain anything to me. Far from it -- they got really angry.

“Can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I can," I said.

"One guy yelled at me, "You stupid bitch, how do you live like that with nothing in your brain?' Well, that did it. I wasn't going to put up with that. OK, so I'm not so smart. I'm working class. But it's the working class that keeps the world running, and it's the working classes that get exploited. What kind of revolution is it that just throws out big words that working-class people can't understand? What kind of crap social revolution is that? I mean, I'd like to make the world a better place, too. If somebody's really being exploited, we've got to put a stop to it. That's what I believe, and that's why I ask questions.

“Am I right, or what?"

"You're right."

"So that's when it hit me. These guys are fakes. All they've got on their minds is impressing the new girls with the big words they're so proud of, while sticking their hands up their skirts. And when they graduate, they cut their hair short and march off to work for Mitsubishi or IBM or Fuji Bank. They marry pretty wives who've never read Marx and have kids they give fancy new names to that are enough to make you puke. Smash what educational-industrial complex? Don't make me laugh! And the new members were just as bad. They didn't understand a thing either, but they pretended to and they were laughing at me. After the meeting, they told me, "Don't be silly! So what if you don't understand? Just agree with everything they say.'"

[...]  

"So then what happened with your club?"

"I left in June, I was so furious," Midori said. "Most of these student types are total frauds. They're scared to death somebody's gonna find out they don't know something. They all read the same books and they all spout the same slogans, and they love listening to John Coltrane and seeing Pasolini movies. You call that "revolution?"'

"Hey, don't ask me, I've never actually seen a revolution."

"Well, if that's revolution, you can stick it. They'd probably shoot me for putting umeboshi in my rice balls. They'd shoot you, too, for understanding the subjunctive."

"It could happen."

"Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. I'm working class.”

But those dynamics changed. Today, Japan is about as polarized by education as France and the United States were in the 1970s and the United Kingdom was in the 1990s: the more educated and the less educated vote the same way. 

I am still interested in whether Japan has depolarized at the level of opinion and policy. Under Shinzo Abe, the country has liberalized. It has more immigration and more women in the workforce. Perhaps that reflects the preferences of an increasingly educated population.

But it might be something else. The Liberal Democrats have a freedom of action that parties in competitive systems do not enjoy. In the United States, Democrats and Republicans must respond to changing preferences. In Japan, the Liberal Democrats can, more often than not, ignore them.

Perhaps Abe simply decided that cultural conservatism is not a winning program. But perhaps the country is changing beneath his feet. 

[youmightaswell]

Die!

What I did during my pandemic non-vacation

Right before the pandemic hit, my work was slow. My client stable was dwindling and so I set  the goal of finally compiling all my personal essays from the last 20 years into a book I'd call "The Unbearable Heaviness of Being". And then, serendipitously a  more literal unbearable heaviness of being hit.

Still, one would think a pandemic would be the ideal time to start that book. Maybe even start the "Letters from the Inside" book about my serial killer writing project for the last 10 years, or even my own memoir. I had nothing but time. I had to stay inside anyway. Nothing else was pressing, and I am usually especially creative during times of stress and hardship.

But lo!  I am also a procrastinator when it comes to a writing assignment -- even a self-inflicted one.  

So over the last three months I found every excuse not to write those long-form pieces. It seems like all I did was bathe, eat, eat some more, and lay around in bed, most often talking to the dog in guise of actually talking to myself. I spent an inordinate amount to time figuring out how to handle my grooming at home now that my external fleet of professionals were no longer available. Day after day I wore sweats or pjs (careful to change from day ones to night ones once the nightly New Year’s Eve-type cheering started, a new type of closing bell.) The one day I felt invigorated and optimistic enough to put on jeans I had to peel them off by mid-day unsure of how I ever wore such a tortuous garment. 

I felt comfort when I saw reassuring messages on Instagram -- which along with Facebook and Twitter, I spent an inordinate amount of time on -- saying that it was just fine not to produce anything during this quarantine. That is was an unprecedented time and one that was highly stressful so it is fine to do whatever you want to keep calm and keep on...  I did just that, or at least it seemed so. I felt like a sloth, eating carbs and sugar -- things for the last two years I carefully avoided. I texted exes, fought with feral Trump supporters, washed dry-clean only clothes. You know, indulged in the wildest of vices.

The shelter-in-place mandate will come to a close soon. Being in NYC, probably it will take longer than most areas to dissolve, but still the streets are getting a bit more crowded, and people seem to be back in my NYC apartment building, once again, hogging the dryers (which I then have to neurotically wipe down with disinfectant wipes.)

So I initially felt a bit down at what a failure I've been to do something productive during this time.

As a result, I decided to take inventory of my last three months. ***

- I applied for PPP (dealing with Chase bank for two months having  to re-apply three different times at their ever-changing directives, only to be told they couldn't verify my income and therefore I was turned down). I applied for EIDL,got $1000 payment and then was told that because inadvertently answered a question wrong -- these applications are super hard--I was denied and now they were only allowing re-applications of agricultural industry workers. Then I applied for freelancer unemployment, twice, only to not be able to get through, not be able to revise my PUA application and am still waiting to hear something, anything.  As such with  EIDL, PPP, SBA, WHO and all other pandemic-related acronyms, I now have a great fear -- PTSD, if you will -- of acronyms in general. No good can come from them. 

- I washed my hands -- and my dog’s paws -- a billion times. I also did way too much laundry because in times of stress and lack of control, my OCD (another scary acronym!) gets rampant and doing finite tasks makes me feel more in charge. I saged my apartment weekly, casting out negative energy and viruses and calling upon all good things to enter instead. The only entrance was made by my super who yelled at me for mentioning him in an article I wrote about my doorman who passed away from Covid-19. Still, I disinfected doorknobs, elevator buttons, and even the container of wipes, multiple times as if trying to free a genie in a bottle, to no avail.

- I tended to all sorts of medical tests for myself and my dog, culminating in standing a long line to get the Covid-19 antibody tests. (Sadly I was negative.) 

-I binged watched (Dead to Me) and cringe watched (White Lines), valuing a good hate-watch more than quality programming. 

- I read about 10 books, a few that have stayed with me in the best way possible, such as "My Dark Vanessa" and "Excavation".

- I listened to the full true-horror podcast "Let's Not Meet" - because sometimes the only way to quell true-horror is with true-horror. Hair of the dog sort of thing.

- I tracked down ARCs (one of the nicer acronyms) of books that will come out later this year so I could read them without any preconceived notions about them. 

- I finally watched the backlog of hoarded movies I had borrowed from the NYPL: The best of which was "Giant", a classic 3.5 hour saga.

- I read countless magazines and most things I read were drivel, but then I curated the best essays and realized they all seemingly dealt with food, which makes total sense during a pandemic when we all reverted back into hunter gatherers.    “Fuck the Bread. The Bread is Over,” the NYT’s written by restaurant owner/chef of Prune, and the essay by art critic Jerry Saltz about his peculiar eating habits were the best.  While they all seemingly dealt with food and eating, they really don't deal with that at all.  They definitely appeased my appetite for touching writing.  

- And I did some touching writing of my own. I wrote an essay about the death by Covid-19 of my favorite doorman to much notice. It was the article I’ve written that has gotten shared the most online, I think, ever! More importantly, it touched his family in a way that seems significant, his daughter reaching out to me with this message: 

- Related: I organized a GoFundMe for the aforementioned late doorman’s family and raised over $7,000 in just one week! I got our whole complex and neighborhood to participate, and I believe it helped us collectively mourn. 

- Related, I helped a dear friend with dealing with heartbreaking news that her elderly mother had contracted Covid-19. She called me the night she found out to weigh options. Sadly her mother passed. I had a tree planted in her mother’s honor. 

- I signed up with Postcrossing and sent postcards to people all over the world and have gotten a ton back. In times of isolation it helps to feel connected in some way. 

- In that same vein, I participated Oregon Humanities’ “Dear Stranger” project - in which one writes a letter to a stranger and sends it to the organization and they exchange it with other stranger’s letter and mail that one to you. Interestingly I wrote my letter on an old map. The letter I got in return was by a female freelance writer of my same age, also written on an old map. More serendipity! More connection without ever leaving the apartment. 

- I saw a segment on NY1 talking about how this pandemic and isolation is taking its toll on seniors and one NYC nursing home that was requesting cards and letters to cheer them up. It was the catalyst for me to start a new project I call: “Letters from the Inside... of the Senior Center” - in which I researched and compiled a list of nursing homes around the country who accept letters of cheer to their seniors. I now have a list of about 800 names. I’ve sent about 75 cards/postcards myself so far, and have enlisted friends, neighbors, and others to send cards as well. My goal is to get each senior at least one card or letter. 

- I had a milestone birthday with little fanfare. My dog, Biggie, turned three. 

- I finally finished annotating each chapter of “Blind Eye,” the best-selling book about serial killer Michael Swango, who I have written to for 10+ years as part of the aforementioned “Letters from the Inside” project I created. I sent him questions on each chapter. 

- Related: After 10 long years of corresponding, on my birthday we started what has now turned out to be weekly calls. His prison has finally allowed them. Last call I told him that he has not answered my last few letters. He told me to yell at him, remind him, and push him to get on it. I quipped that it was probably not in my best interest to antagonize someone who murdered 60+ people. True horror, indeed. 

- The CNN docu-series about him in which I appear as an expert was postponed but will air later this summer. 

- Speaking of true horrors, I had a woman threaten to spit on me when I requested she leash her dog -- who had tried to attack Biggie. (Odd foreshadowing for the recent Amy Cooper debacle.) 

- I lost my long-time nurse (I get immuno-therapy infusions twice a month and have for years for an immune disorder) because she was fired by her nursing company. After having to deal with an inadequate string of nurses I lobbied to get my nurse hired at my pharmacy’s nursing division so now she can be my nurse again. She is thrilled she has a job; I am thrilled I have my old friend back each month. 

- I feel in love with Cuomo.

***

After sitting down and taking this inventory, I am amazed at how much I have actually done in such a short period of time. It seems insane that I was feeling so bad and slothlike for being so unproductive, when in retrospect, I actually accomplished a lot. 

I guess what I can take away from this long stretch of isolation is this: We can’t see how far we are traveling without looking back on our journey. While something -- particularly traumatic or stressful -- is happening, it is easy to feel static, frozen and worse, uncreative. But feelings aren’t facts. 

Just because I didn’t write my book, I did lots of creative things with my time. I was tangibly helpful to others without even noticing it when I was doing it. I felt like I was faltering and failing, but in looking back at that list above, I really wasn’t. I may have even excelled. 

And now, I think I need to lay down. 

[tracykestler]

36 and what a world I have seen

Honestly I’ve been terrible at journalling lately. Love handwriting in quill and ink style, but my current life leaves me exhausted after work and most of my time spent in education. But currently the Covid-19 pandemic made me consider the important world events I have witnessed. 

Born in 1984 I lived in a world of rapidly changing technology but still being forced outside to play. We always had an Apple computer in our house for as long as I can remember. Played the Oregon Trail in black and white, then in color. That was the standard computer game of my childhood. Mom got us Mario Teaches Typing, probably the only “video game” I ever played at that point. AOL was a thing. All those CDs in the mail with updates. I never really got into it, but my twin sister did.

Also a child of the Disney Golden Age of animation. Dramatically influenced my life to the point I went to work for Walt Disney World after college. Still a Disney fanatic to this day. 

Apparently my family visited Yellowstone National park (age 4? too young to remember anyway) then not too long after the park had the fire. 

Was alive though not conscious of world events when the Berlin Wall fell. Watch the birth of CNN during the first Desert Storm when my dad was there overseeing some of the first drone flights. The military required a pilot on hand for those flights. He told us later how some Iraqis would surrender to the drone plane, not that it was ever one of the ones he supervised. And according to my mom I frequently asked to NOT watch the 24 hour stream of news because it was too depressing and I knew that’s where dad was. 

Really started to pay attention to news (not that l enjoyed it but that’s the timeline for how chidden develop) during the O.J. Simpson trial. 

By that point I had lived on both coasts of the USA, crossed country twice, lived in many different environments from Washington’s cold wet seasons to California’s deserts California’s coast to landlocked suburbia of Georgia. 

Where I learned to drive, had a single Nokia phone for me and my twin in our tiny Cabrio convertible (I hate convertibles). Got a personal computer for the first time, where before it was a single family computer. The iMacs were coming out right when we were heading to college. My sister got the desktop, I got the laptop and have never looked back. Still have my gumstick shuffle iPod floating around and it still works.

Got to watch the insanity of Indecision 2000 and appreciate political humor for the first time.

I’ve been to 9 different schools for 12 years of school, not including college. That would make it ten. Was a freshman in high school when the Columbine shootings happened. Some weeks later we had a pipe bomb threat at our school which forced all the students out to the football field. From the top of the bleachers we could see the bomb squad and their dogs entering the school. All I could think of was if someone really wanted to kill at lot of people, there on the bleachers would be the place to do it. Then at some point in my adult life someone did it at a movie theater showing The Dark Knight. 

Saw the images of the Oklahoma City bombing. Heard about the Unabomber. Watched the Waco Texas incident.

But my senior year was the time of 9/11. My math class was out in the hallway doing a math related science type experiment, can’t tell you what it was. But that day was the only day I have ever heard a school of nearly 5,000 students absolutely silent during class change. Thus Desert Storm part two happened. 

Right before I headed off to college. So I wasn’t super savvy about applying to colleges. I only applied to one. Didn’t have a clue as to what I wanted to do with my life. I’ve done a wide variety of sports, been writing fiction since at least 10 years old, drew and painted fairly well, thought about doing animation or architecture (did a semester learning thing with a local firm, decided it wasn’t for me). 

Ended up getting a degree in two foreign languages but not fluent in either. It did greatly improve my understanding of the English language. And I had the privilege of an exchange program for a school year to Japan, plus of study abroad summer to Germany. Would never regret any of that. Even if it didn’t get me a degree that got me a job. 

Instead I went to Disney World as part of their internship program. Been in foods and hospitality for a significant portion of my life (thus far). Loved working there. Got to work with the Characters and it was fabulous. Even with the frustrations of all work environments. 

But it couldn’t last. Minimum wage was raised, but the cost of living out stripped the earnings for a single person living alone. Prompting a move back home with parents to get another degree. Then the Housing bubble burst, loans defaulted, mortgage crisis, resulting in the Great Recession. It did get me a house in my name but basically an income property for my mom as her inheritance from my grandmother. All the while I’m going to school to be a nurse.

Now let’s not forget about the many weather crises I’ve witnessed via the news. Hurricanes Katrina, Sandy, Harvey, Maria to name the ones I easily remember. The Class 5 tornado that wiped out a midwestern town. The volcano in Iceland rerouting planes. The tsunami in Indonesia and Sumatra. The massive earthquake in Haiti. These are only the ones that easily come to mind without researching what happened during the years I’ve been alive.

Not to mention the diseases that I’ve seen via the news. First to mind was the Ebola outbreak while I was in nursing school. Saw the hype on the Swine Flue, SARS, Avian flu to name a few easily remembered. Those never reached me personally. Now it’s Covid-19 unfolding. Called SARS-CoV-19 now, but that later.

But its not all disasters. Went to the Atlanta Centennial Olympics still have the t-shirt. Was alive during the first black president. 

Took part in the massive phenomena that was Harry Potter and still love it to this day. It showed me that fiction/fantasy could be a mainstream genre to write for. I started writing FanFiction at that time to fill in the long spaces between books. Started when fan fiction.net had the 7or 8 main characters to choose from for tagging. It was like the Wild West of figuring out what you were about to read. Learned about Slash, yaoi, lemons and such the hard way. But being exposed to it that way did open my eyes to what goes on in other people’s heads. Knew immediately that just because I didn’t like something didn't mean I had to hate on it. I left it alone once found and kept going. Really helped increase my tolerance to other cultures and thoughts.

Met my best friend on a role playing site and we wrote nonstop during our college years. Went to her wedding, have a lovely Renaissance style dress as a bridesmaid gift. Still am in touch with her. We don’t write together any more as we have moved in our lives with adulting. But I still have all those stories and hope to turn them into something.

Had my first camera cell phone in Japan as just a basic free phone. Was shocked to find cameras in the States were not standard. One of my friends in Japan kept doing selfies before they were called selfies. Blind positioning of the camera for pictures. Then came the iPhone and the world never looked back.

Joined Facebook when it required a college email. Used MSN messenger and Yahoo messenger to communicate with people around the world. Didn’t join the Twitter or Tumblr movement until after they became established. Saw the boom and bust of the Dot.Com bubble. Watched the Dow Jones numbers increase without the income to invest the way they said to.

Lived right above the poverty line during the Recession. Not knowing if I could make it the next month. Never being able to claim poverty on the tax forms. Caught in the income dead space of not being able to afford health insurance from the markets but in a state that didn’t allow for Medicaid expansion.

But I do not have the worry now thankfully. 

Jobs wise I’ve been a telemarketer, dishwasher, a line cook, a hostess, server, janitor, assistant manager, and now I’m a nurse. I started on med/surg, ED, Cardiac, and ICU. In a small rural hospital getting smaller in a time when rural were shutting down because of no funding. They serve areas with a high rates of unemployment, uninsured, drug and alcohol abuse.

Worked at a busier hospital were no bed was left empty. Sicker patients. Work in a mid-size place. Some days super busy, some slower. 

Covid-19 had the affect of somehow doing both. First few days was almost empty, now it fluctuates. Mostly rule outs. And the protocols are changing hourly which makes life frustrating for us. It’s the constant unspoken threat of going into work not knowing if you’ll have the right equipment to do the job. I’m not scared of the virus itself, not even of the collapse of the economy. I’m scared of the surge that will put my coworkers at risk.

I live alone (my little sister lives with me now) so very little contact with others. But they have kids and a much closer physical distance to their older parents. I know I will add days to my weeks if they have to stay out for any length of time. 

So this is the first time a world event as truly affected me. It is a terrifying time which prompted this summary of my life so far.

I went into a restaurant and saw no one. I never thought I’d see that day. I don’t want people to loose their income, but if people were to go about their daily activities we would loose so many in one go. All I can do is my job.

The more I watch the more depressed and stressed. At work is worse.

I’m teaching myself a new craft because of this. I have taken up leather working to make masks. It helps the creativity outlet. I started drawing class early in 2020 and was set to continue drawing and add painting when the social distancing started. I admit it felt overblown in the beginning. Now the numbers are changing rapidly and we are really seeing what happens in close communities. Just keep working. It’s part of life now. No matter how much if feels like a movie plot line.

But back to other things I’ve seen.

LGTBQA and others coming into the forefront of society. Saw legalization of gay marriage. Quite thrilled with that.

Didn’t hear the term Asexual in reference to a sexual preference until my early 20s. Immediately recognized similar stories to me. Never had an interest in sex or having a partner. A name did make things more relatable, but I will never fully understand people who seem to base their entire existence on their sexual preference.

I’ve been call sir many times based on how I dress. I still sound like a female. Can’t fault anyone for using the appropriate pronoun for what they see in front of them. But that’s a culture that’s growing. Preferred pronouns. But I have to admit that an online friend referred to me as “they” despite a lady being in my username and it felt nice. So in honor of the Special Snowflake term that floated around, I’m an nonbinary aromantic asexual. Probably with a fem-romanitic leaning. 

Saw the rise of the Millennials. I’m caught between Gen X and the Millennials. Now that all the Millennials are of age to vote, perhaps change is underway?

I’m back in college for my 3rd and then 4th degree. In nursing. Online. Watching the world combat a virus.

A US that is split down the middle politically. A world with more pollution problems than we can handle. Governments preferring to coverup mistakes and corruption than help their citizens. The term Public Servant is obviously not taken seriously in some places. See Flint, MI and their water. Lobbyists creating bills that benefit corporations rather than people. Politicians that never retire and keep getting lucrative reelection donations from those very corporations. 

The rise of narcotic drug use, prescription drugs. Pill mills. 

Sex scandals taking center stage in the news rather than things that actually affect daily life. Among things I will never understand is the fear of Transgender women in the women’s restrooms when it was always a straight conservative man who was the center of all these sex scandals. 

Asexual brain at work. I simply do not understand. Conclusion: If you look like a certain gender, you’ll most often be treated as that gender.

What I do miss were the kid shows and cartoons in the 90s. They were super progressive with great literature themes. I knew the story of some of the greatest classic literature simply by the references in those shows. 

Also the era of War on Drug commercials. Recycling promoted. 

My favorite: Captain Planet. Not only was it pushing for a cleaner earth it had different nationalities. Stereotypical, but a far better representation than what I am seeing in kids shows today. It was diverse in that multiple skin tones were seen on screen together rather than specific skin tones marketed to that specific demographic. Now I do like how many more cultures are represented, I just want them shown in ways where color and culture is not the primary focus. 

It also surged a desire to protect the planet. The knowledge that we need clean water and air. Educational shows like Magic School Bus and Bill Nye explained what is happening in the environment long before Global Warming became political. With the global shut in we see the world cleansing itself. 

Now the marijuana legalization issue. No one has died from overdosing on weed. Unlike Alcohol. Yes smoke isn’t good for your health like cigarettes, but the complications are not as prevalent, well studied, or as life threatening with what is known. The disconnect of state legalization and national illegalities is mind blowing. I hope to see that break so we can study it.

Overall I know I have seen a lot of historical events and I hope to live another 36 plus years to see more. 3 decades, the change of a century and the change of the millennia. Y2K hysteria included. 

The world is changing. The outcome is unknown. Peace be upon us all.