#it's wild to me there was apparently not even an exception made for shortages if you wanted to sell more than what you'd declared tough shi

[spoonsandsporks]

Ancient Greek custom laws, you say? :D{

Ohhhhhhhhhhh you know not what you've wrought. (Long post warning)

SO. I can finally talk about this b/c the place has been and gone and my players follow my tumblr account. BUT I DM a Theros campaign for my friends every other saturday, which is a dnd 5e setting based on the mtg cards, that are inspired by ancient greek and roman mythology and history. I, a person with a degree in ancient history and a love for making more work for myself, took this as a challenge to make the setting not just more accurate to ancient greek mythology but to ancient greek society and history as well. This led to me needing to research athenian port cities as that was a location my players were going to visit. And thus I dived into the rabbit hole of ancient athenian custom laws and got very heated about it.

Which I'll now proceed to inflict on you b/c you asked about it. :))) You're welcome

So, first of all, Athens was a big port polis. Many ships stopped at Athens while on the way to other places. Which was important b/c the sea is dangerous! Ship travel was mostly via rowing with oars or maybe sail and big boats were expensive. Distance was an important risk factor to consider. Maritime trade was high risk and high stakes. Shipwrecks were very common! If you were travelling and shipping goods by boat and it was like a week's journey to your final destination port, and your options were travel for 3 days and stop at a nearby port before continuing onwards or travel the full week across the deep ocean and risk shipwreck you'd stop at as many ports as you can afford. And yeah, afford is the key word here.

e.g: 2 days travel to Port A selling at X price might be preferable than 4 days travel to Port B selling at XX price because you were more likely to arrive at Port A intact than risk the 2 extra days at sea.

Additionally, there were some goods that were considered higher quality or in higher demand than others. Such things as wine, pottery (amphora), wood (a luxury item for fuel), grain and olive oil (essential for gyms + personal hygiene) were expensive and paid well for. Grain was the big ticket item for athens, they often struggled with grain shortages. And while amphora were big you could use them to store other luxury goods, such as the aforementioned grain, olive oil and wine, saving you cargo space and money as you could sell the wine and the amphora that held it.

So, with all that set up, lets talk about athenian custom laws and how (maybe understandably) strict they were.

So, when boats arrived at port, they had to announce what goods they carried and how much you were bringing to shore. Once you announced these things, you could not change it once you declared it. If prices on shore were bad (ie not expensive enough) and you wanted to take back what you were going to sell and try and sell it at another port that may have better prices, you had to pay a very high export tax. Equally, if prices were good, you couldn't then go back to your boat and bring out the extra to sell, you had to lug those goods to the next port.

e.g: you have 100 measures of grain on your boat. you announce that you are bringing 60 measures ashore to sell in local markets or whatever. you get to the market and prices are bad, which means you're either forced to sell at a loss OR pay a tax that is worth more than double what your grain is normally worth to take it to another port that might have better prices. OR you have 100 measures of grain on your boat. you announce that you are bringing 60 measures ashore to sell in local markets or whatever. you get to the market and prices are great! you want to go get your extra 40 measures of grain to sell for profit. you are not allowed to do that. trying to is illegal and has consequences. you are forced to accept the profit you got from your 60 measures and leave port for the sea.

Remember how I mentioned grain was in high demand in Athens? Yeah, so, illegally taking grain out of athens territory was punishable by death and was considered a very serious issue. So if you didn't pay that export tax and tried to take your 60 measures of grain back onto your boat b/c prices are bad (like in the above example), that counted as illegally stealing grain from athens and you would be given the death sentence for it.

Ships were searched heavily when entering the port (in case of a trojan horse situation where men or weapons are being smuggled in to try and take the port lol) and tax was paid by any ship entering port in order to secure berth and protection in port. These checks meant that any ship entering or leaving was well tracked and any illegal activity would be noticed. Access to a port was NOT a right and could be revoked - bans were usually on a case-by-case basis so merchants were encouraged to behave themselves.

Merchants kind of had to hedge the amount of goods they'd bring ashore before knowing the state of the market and then weren't allowed to change their position upon discovery. They just had to guess and presume based on the reputation of that port and their markets. Lukily, maritime trade wasn't done in a vacuum and talking to other merchants for news wasn't illegal or anything, as long as they were willing to share their knowledge.

Any merchant funded by a specific polis - so their ship was paid for by a government official or something - had to by law sell their imports in that polis' port primarily. So that was a something merchants had to consider as well on top of the custom laws. Sometimes it benefitted to be loyal tho! Helping out a polis with a specific goods shortage could result in long term benefits or rewards. Such as favourable exceptions to future trading or a gift of land within the polis/port itself in exceptional circumstances.

The trading process was also heavily controlled by Athens in their ports. Once declared goods were unloaded, the marine merchant would head to the trading house in the harbour to negotiate sales with local retailers. The local retailers would then sell it at the marketplace to the local populace. The retailers and merchants would all be in the same room so it was very quick and easy to get an accurate picture of what a good price was. But only once you'd already declared your goods.

If there were shortages, the rules could become a little lax. A customs counter could give certain merchants a wink and a nudge if there were shortages to capitalise on, in theory (source dubious). But if there was a significant enough shortage that drove prices up prohibitively, supplies would be bought up by wealthy port officials at a fixed price and then sold in the local markets by the state at a loss. They tried hard to prevent mass starvation. These officials would oversee trade in the markets and trading house so they would know what a good price was and what was an exaggeration. The market was often so highly regulated that there wasn't much of a scope for a 'black market' of sorts without an official knowing about it (source dubious).

So yeah! Ancient greek custom laws were very strict. We of course don't know the scope of how rigidly these laws were adhered to nor the scale of possible corruption in these laws. Maritime trade was a big risk! But grain was so important and Athens had trouble growing their own to feed their people, they had to import it and export their own quality goods to fill the money deficit. Hence, while yes their laws seem a little wild, it's understandable considering the position they were in.

(but hey take all this with a pinch of salt, most of this was sourced from old uni notes and what i could remember off the top of my head. i am not an expert! i'm just a passionate blogger and researcher trying my best with limited resources. not to mention many of the og sources were written from the point of view of the higher echelons of society, so it's important to take all these biases into account. be critical of everything you read!)

Anyway thank you for the excuse to ramble about something that was TRULY WILD to me the first time i read about it. Now you can tell your friends about athenian custom laws and bore them to tears like i did my players :D

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃How Seventeen would act around their crush❃

A/N: So... I thought this would be just a fun short prompt and instead, I made it long because why have a word limit when you can let your delulu run wild :')

Scoups/Seunghceol

❀ Coups is a fairly confident person; he knows that people find him attractive and that there is no shortage of people lining up to date him. Yet, when he developed a crush on you, he found himself unable to go and talk to you. Instead, he watches you from afar, trying to assert whether the interest is mutual before making any sort of move. He always tries to be in your vicinity, close enough to catch your eye but not enough to prompt any one-on-one conversations.

❀ He strives to impress you, always taking up the other members in challenges when you are around. Whenever he wins an arm wrestling match, he briefly glances at you, gauging your reaction. He wants you to be impressed by his physical strength. Similarly, when he goes out drinking, and you are present, he makes sure to down every shot and tries to win every drinking game. He will even shyly take shots for you when you lose a game.

❀ To put it differently, when you are around him, his competitiveness will increase tenfold. He wants to impress you, whilst also using these moments to check whether the interest is mutual. 

❀ He absolutely hates it when the other members tease him about it as, to them, it's obvious that he has a crush on you. His eyes continuously follow you around, and he always seems to be smiling to himself when you talk; it is not difficult to figure it out. Still, he needs some time to ascertain whether you reciprocate his feelings. If he gets any indication that it is, it will not take him long to ask you out.

Jeonghan

❀ From the outside, it is rather difficult to determine whether Jeonghan has a crush on someone, as his demeanour doesn’t change. He teases everyone equally, and you are no exception to that. Even if he seems to target you more than others, enjoying your reactions to his antics, it is so subtle that nobody around him seems to catch it.

❀ He is also not one to mention it to his friends or the other members; he doesn't see the point in doing so. Instead, he keeps his feelings private, just for himself, unless he is planning on doing something about them.

❀ However, it becomes slightly apparent in the way that he silently takes care of you. Jeonghan is a very nurturing person who tends to the needs of those around him. Still, he dislikes it when people draw attention to his caring gestures, not wanting to be praised for it.

❀ For some reason, he always seems aware when you need help, ready to offer his in a heartbeat. Little do you know that he is constantly watching you out of the corner of his eye, making sure that you are doing alright.

❀ Regardless of how puzzled his behaviour leaves you, Jeonghan is not one to beat around the bush. He is quick to confess to you that he finds you attractive, seeing no point in leaving it unsaid for long. Despite his mischievous and playful personality, he likes to have these things clear from the get-go. Why would he wait when he could enjoy taking you on fun dates?

Joshua

❀ Joshua is the definition of “Is he into me, or is he just being friendly?” When you met Joshua, you were surprised by his gentle nature. Sure, he likes to play pranks on people, and he does the craziest stuff occasionally, but when it comes down to it, Joshua is a very caring person. So honestly, you might have a difficult time determining whether he is being so unbelievably kind to you because he likes you or because he is a gentleman.

❀ Still, he is not shy, approaching you and striking up conversations whenever he sees you. In fact, ever since he met you, he has been conversing with you. It is almost like the two of you are magnets naturally pulling towards each other, as every time you find yourself in the same room, the two of you end up talking the entire time. When you do, nobody is able to interject, leaving you two in your own shared little world. He is perfectly courteous, and when he gets more comfortable with you, he starts showing his crazy side.

❀ Apart from this gravitational pull, he makes a conscious effort to text you back. Shocking, I know. It might still take him longer than others, but the moment you give him your number, he makes the conscious decision to text you first and respond timely to your replies. The other members think it is incredibly unfair, but he really enjoys talking to you, and this is one way to continue doing so.

❀ He is definitely another member who will not postpone confessing. Rejection, to him, isn't the end of the world; if he wants to date you, but you are not feeling it, why would he not want to be your friend instead? You’re still an awesome person he wanted to spend more time with. It makes asking you out a lot less stressful.

Jun

❀ He is freaking out in the corner of the room as the party rages on around him, dipping the moment he laid eyes on you. Minghao has been encouraging him to talk to you, but that is not happening anytime soon. Jun is incredibly shy, and once he develops a crush on someone, he inexplicably becomes one with the furniture.

❀ It isn’t that he doesn’t want to talk to you, but he doesn’t quite know how to start a conversation and keep it going without making it awkward. He has been running different scenarios in his head, trying to formulate responses that he could use. However, once he sees you laugh, he knows it is hopeless; your smile is so radiant that he can’t help but be reduced to a stuttering mess. So yeah, hiding in a corner seems to be his safest option for now.

❀ If you somehow manage to corner him and actually have a conversation with him, it is not hard to note his discomfort. The only indication that he might be into you is the other members trying to encourage him from afar, giving him thumbs up whenever he utters a word back.

❀ Over text, it is a world of difference; he seems to be more brazen without having to see you face-to-face. He is still nervous on the other side of the phone, but the distance seems to help him with his shyness, and he is able to articulate his thoughts much better.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Everyone expects Hoshi to be a social butterfly and energetic around new people, but, in reality, he is only loud around his friends. When it comes to strangers, however, he falls incredibly quiet and gets painfully shy, which worsens when he meets you, someone he is attracted to. He knows he can be shameless and say insane things. Hence, he avoids you like the plague.

❀ After a couple of awkward first conversations with you, he begins to feel more comfortable around you, and his wild side starts coming out. It almost gives you whiplash, as in his giddy excitement, his energy multiplies. Even to his own members, he seems to be much wilder, barely able to sit still, when he sees you. It is as if you inject him with straight-up adrenaline and caffeine, having him bounce off the walls.

❀ When he gets drunk, his feelings will be on his sleeve, on display for everyone to see. His members have to keep an eye on him because, in his drunken state, he will accidentally kiss you or end up confessing his feelings. There will be no filter between his brain and his mouth, and he unabashedly will keep telling anyone who will listen that he finds you pretty.

❀ He might, nevertheless, accidentally confess whilst sober. He has no intention of doing it, but unintentionally lets it slip out when he is joking around with you. Regardless of whether or not you have heard him, he will try to play it off as a joke. He is so embarrassed about his unexpected confession; this was not how he wanted it to happen.

Wonwoo

❀ Wonwoo is part of the shy gang, but where Jun and Hoshi are socially awkward, Wonwoo is simply quiet. He's already someone who uses words sparingly by nature, but once he develops a crush on someone, he is unable to get any sentences out. At first, you thought Wonwoo disliked you, finding him aloof around you. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he would merely spare you a glance before quickly moving away.

❀ As time passes, however, you notice that he tends to wear a soft smile around you when he thinks you aren't looking. It is so tiny and subtle that it is easy to miss. Moreover, you've noticed that he gives you special privileges compared to his members. When the two of you are playing games together, he tends to go easy on you, to the chagrin of the other members. He likes seeing you excited over your definitely not-facilitated win.

❀ He also tried his hardest to talk to you despite his shyness, with the rest of the members pushing him to do so. Mingyu fully adopts the role of wingman, easing the conversation between Wonwoo and you to get his friend to open up. He knows his friend is struggling and wants nothing more than to help him out.

❀ Despite how hard his heart is beating in his chest, he will continuously come up to you, trying to start a conversation. Even if he fails and the conversation goes nowhere, he will not be deterred and will try again later. Do not count on him to confess his attraction, though. He will take it to his grave unless you decide to confess to him first.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ Despite being part of the shy gang, Woozi will muster up the courage to come over and talk to you. The conversation isn't life-changing or mind-blowing; there are a lot of awkward pauses and painful silences, but at least he is trying to connect to you.  

❀ The amount of music-related questions he has asked in the past five minutes makes you almost feel like you're having a job interview. It is obvious that producing music is his passion, but you kind of wish that he would talk about something else, even if you find his intensity attractive. Woozi knows that he should probably change the topic, but he feels so overwhelmed by your presence that music is all he can think of. 

❀ He, furthermore, is trying his hardest to show off his manly side. Whether it is constantly crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look imposing, or refusing any requests to act cute, he wants you to think he is handsome, not adorable. It is painfully apparent to the members that he has a massive crush on you, and they can't wait to tease him into oblivion, provoking him by constantly calling him precious. 

❀ He will definitely start waving around his black card more; it isn't because he wants to impress you with his wealth, but because he wants to ensure you have everything you need. If you mention that you want to swing by a convenience store, he will be right by your side, casually handing you his black card. 

DK/Seokmin

❀ Upon seeing you, DK is hopelessly gone; he follows you around with so much excitement, much like a lost puppy. Although he is always friendly and thrilled when it comes to meeting new people, it is easy to tell that he has a crush on you. Maybe, if you're truly in denial, you might feel like he is simply being nice to you, but DK wears his heart on his sleeve, so it is abundantly apparent to everyone around him that he has a crush on you. It is literally coming out of every pore on his body.

❀ His main goal in life has changed into making you laugh. If you haven't laughed at least six times over the span of a ten-minute conversation, he is counting it as a loss. Be prepared for your stomach and laugh muscles to hurt after talking to him; he is upping his antics, pushing aside his shame in order to hear you giggle. 

❀ He will be trying his hardest to flirt with you, but instead of coming off as flirty, it is downright hilarious. His pick-up lines are so incredibly awful that you can't help but laugh at them. You have no idea why he thought that "you're hotter than the bottom of my laptop" or "if you'd be words on a page, you'd be fine print" would work, but hey, at least he got you laughing. 

❀ He might be a bit shy when it comes to actually asking you out directly, but he is so shameless with his flirting, and it is so obvious he is into you that it feels like he has already done so. 

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu is incredibly shameless when it comes to flirting, wasting absolutely no time when it comes to approaching his crush. Sure, he gets very shy when you reciprocate any of his attention, but he will initiate it first. It kind of drives you insane. One moment, he will be leaning over as the two of you are drinking at a bar, seductively whispering into your ear that you look stunning in your dress, and the other, he will be blushing and giggling as if he has never heard a single compliment in his life before. You're not sure whether he is doing it on purpose or whether he truly is that bashful. It doesn't matter, though; it works like a charm. 

❀ The other members better not be around him when he is talking to you. He will casually stretch his arms, showing off his toned arms, or sneakily reach around you, momentarily hugging you, to reach for a coaster that just happened to be on the other side of you. If they saw him, they would not let him live it down; perhaps that is why he gets so shy when you tease him for casually touching you or showing off. He will look for any excuse to briefly touch you, pretending like he doesn't know what he is doing. 

❀ Speaking of teasing, he lives for the moments where you tease him. It effectively makes him momentarily lose his cool; we all know Mingyu secretly enjoys being degraded. The moment you mildly mock him marks the moment he is completely gone for you. 

❀ Mingyu will drag out the flirting phase; he enjoys the chase and the back-and-forth. It isn't that he doesn't want to date you, but he lives for the tension that comes before it, savouring it for as long as he can. 

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao has two vastly different reactions when he is around his crush. He either will act very giddy around you, staring at you as if you hung the moon and the stars, or completely indifferent around you, making you wonder whether you have wronged him at some point. It takes him some time to feel completely comfortable around you, but once he feels at ease, giddy Minghao will come out.

❀ He loves involving you in his activities; expect a ton of invitations for walks, painting sessions or meditations. He makes sure to come up with plenty of excuses for why you should join, most revolving around it being good for you. Truth be told, he simply wants to spend time with you without directly asking you out. He wants to ensure that the two of you connect on a deeper level before confessing his feelings to you.

❀ Conversations with Minghao are so deep. He wants to know your opinion on every philosophical and existential question he has. Honestly, the intense way he listens to you is enough to make you blush; it is as if nothing matters more to him than your words.

❀ Minghao is a firm believer in the "friends first before dating." He will only act on his feelings after he feels like the two of you are somewhat friends.

Seungkwan

❀ Seungkwan hasn't stopped talking to you since the moment he met you. He is another member who wears his heart on his sleeve; he will pour all his energy into socializing with you, making sure that you are comfortable and having a great time. The only times that your conversations turn awkward is when one of his jokes doesn't land; he will beat himself up over it for the rest of eternity, even if you find it incredibly adorable.

❀ Half the contents in his bag are reserved for you; he always brings enough supplements and snacks in order to share them with you. He, additionally, makes sure to pick up coffee for you when he is ordering his usual Iced Americano, ignoring the teasing of his members when he does so. Seungkwan has a very nurturing and caring personality, and it truly shines when he is around you. Know that when he nags you for not going to bed on time, it is because he cares. 

❀ Where Seungkwan is ready to fight with all of his members, he is the definition of soft around you. Even his nagging takes on a softer tone, becoming more of a suggestion than a demand. The other members constantly complain that he is giving you preferential treatment and that he usually isn't this sweet. 

❀ He will confess after a while, being another one who upholds the "first friends before dating" rule. Seungkwan isn't the most confident when it comes to relationships, so it takes him a while to build up the courage to suggest dating. 

Vernon

❀ Vernon is a unique case when it comes to developing a crush on someone; he won't necessarily have it show, yet he will tell all his members that he thinks you are cute. From an outsider's perspective, it is barely noticeable; he isn't a talkative person to begin with and tends to be shy around strangers. Thus, it won't be out of character when his conversations with you are awkward and few and far between. 

❀ It doesn't become clearer whether he likes you once you manage to get his socials. He keeps sending you random memes that might be slightly flirtatious in nature. Most of them, however, are funny, never failing to make you laugh. Vernon, to be honest, is way too scared to talk to you directly, and he feels like using memes instead is a great replacement for words. Once he feels comfortable enough, he will be sending you essay-length messages, and there will be no stopping him. 

❀ Similarly to Minghao, he likes to have deep conversations about topics that he finds important. He values your opinions a lot and wants to hear what you think. Whether it is a serious political issue or a film he recently watched, he will immediately text you a seven-page essay to ask you what you think. 

❀ It takes you ages to figure out that he has a crush on you, and it isn't because Vernon finally decided to confess. No, one of the members accidentally lets it slip; they didn't mean to, but they were getting so frustrated by Vernon's inactions that it came out without thinking. 

Dino/Chan

❀ He thinks he is being super slick with his crush and that no one can tell, but in reality, everyone, including you, is aware that he developed a crush on you. He is trying his hardest to show off, failing miserably at it as he does. Dino wants you to see him as a man, not the youngest member of Seventeen, and he will do his best to come across as mature. The members are torn between making fun of him or helping him out; he is a bit hopeless. 

❀ Truly, Dino having a crush on you is nothing short of adorable. He can be confident about himself and his abilities; he knows that he is handsome and quite witty when he wants to be. Still, he can be a bit shy when talking to strangers, being used to having the older members take charge of those conversations. Hence, it might take him a bit to come up to you and start a conversation, but once he does, he will be as flirty as he dares to be. 

❀ He will be inviting you along for anything and everything. When he wants to go for a hike, his first instinct is to text you to come with him. It isn't a date unless, of course, you suggest it is. He keeps inviting you along on these pseudo-dates, testing out the waters and whether you are interested in potentially going on a real one. 

❀ Please help him out and confess to him first. His members are tired of his endless rants on how beautiful you looked and how incapable he was when it came to telling you that. They might accidentally murder him. 

masterlist

[metalandmagi]

Winter 2021 Anime Worth Watching!

Since 2020 basically sacrificed itself to give us the most stacked anime season of all time, I’m currently buried under the weight of almost 20 shows airing per week. So for anyone who’s looking for some anime to watch this winter, here’s some first impressions! I’m speed running my list this time by only talking about the new shows...because otherwise this would be my great American novel. 

If anyone’s interested, I have master lists for both 2020 anime and 2019 anime, because there’s no shortage of fun things to find. 

New Shows!

And before anyone asks, So I’m A Spider, So What? isn’t on here, because CG spiders freak me out.

Cells At Work Code Black: This...less comedic spin off of Cells At Work (made by a different studio) takes the wholesome concept of Osmosis Jones meets cute anime girls and turns it on its head. In this much more depressing version, we follow a rookie red blood cell who works in the body of an overly stressed, alcoholic smoker who puts every strain on the body imaginable. I love Red Blood Cell AA2153 and his co-workers, but man am I glad we get the regular Cells At Work airing this season too, because I need something fun and uplifting after seeing my sweet son go through hell every episode. 

*Heaven’s Design Team: Have you ever wondered how God came up with some of the weird ass animals that live on this planet? Like, what’s the deal with giraffes? And why can’t we have dragons and flying horses? Well this is a comedy about the engineers and designers in heaven creating the new animals that are going to inhabit the Earth. That’s it, that’s the show. It’s kind of in the same vein as Cells At Work, having comedy blend with a surprising amount of educational information. If you want something light and funny, this is the show for you (though I don’t think it needs to have full length episodes). I’m just hoping there’s an episode about how the hell the platypus was created. Also it’s the only new one available on Crunchyroll.

Horimiya: A romantic comedy about a girl named Hori who fits the image of a perfect queen bee and a quiet bespectacled boy named Miyamura who never makes an impression at school. When the two meet by chance outside of the classroom, we see that Hori is practically raising a younger brother by herself, and Miyamura is actually a sweet guy who happens to be covered in tattoos and piercings. This show is an exercise in breaking down the images people have of others in their minds, and it’s a concept that really hits home in a fun and meaningful way. Honestly, this has become one of my immediate favorites. The characters have great chemistry, and I can’t wait to see more of them!

Monster Incidents (Kemono Jihen): When big shot Tokyo detective Inugami is called to a rural town to investigate a series of strange animal deaths, he finds a mysterious boy with the nickname Dorotabo who has been shunned by the other children in town. As the detective gets closer to Dorotabo, he discovers that there may be more...inhuman secrets to the boy than he realizes...and Dorotabo discovers that Inugami has some secrets of his own. This is a hard show to sell without spoiling the first episode, but it had twists and turns that kept me engaged from start to finish. I’m really interested to see where the plot goes, because I thought this was going to be something totally different just from the PV and series summary. If it plays its cards right, this could be a great paranormal detective show!

Wonder Egg Priority: A psychological drama about a girl named Ai who starts having dreams about a mysterious egg that promises to give her what she wants most in the world...a true friend. Before long, she begins to see how the dream world and reality are tied together, and trippy antics ensue. It’s hard to say more without spoiling anything, but I had to go back and add this one in because I made the mistake of thinking it was an OVA when it’s actually a full series. And what a series it’s starting out to be. This anime has all the psychological discomfort of a Satoshi Kon product with the beauty and style of something from Kyoani (even though it’s made by Clover Works). It’s really one of those anime you just have to see to understand.

Sk8-∞ (Skate the infinity): An original skateboarding anime from Bones, featuring a typical sports anime protagonist who takes a new transfer student who has never skateboarded in his life under his wing. Together they compete in dangerous races and take the skating community by storm. The character designs rival Appare Ranman’s in outlandish creativity, and I can smell the main characters’ ship dynamic a mile away (considering they’re exactly the same as the protagonists from Robihachi). If you’re looking for some wild and crazy fun with top notch skateboarding animation, don’t skip this!

2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu (Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club): Yes, it’s another volleyball anime. And no, it’s not just a clone of Haikyu. This story follows Yuni Kuroba, a physically built but emotionally weak teenager who finds out his childhood friend Hajime is moving back to their hometown for high school. Yuni discovers Hajime has become an exceptional volleyball player and they join their school’s volleyball club hoping to turn the unknown team into a rising star. If anything, this anime is much more like Stars Align or Free, where the sport is a backdrop for letting the characters explore their personal problems. Or at least it seems that way after the first episode. I went into this show ready to throw it in the trash because how could anything compete against my beloved Haikyu, but I found myself really enjoying the dynamics of the main duo and I’m curious to see what the rest of the team is like.

And speaking of sports anime rip-offs…..I can’t believe I’m including this but…

Skate Leading Stars: The show where the animators clearly wanted to design another throw away idol anime but saw how popular Yuri On Ice was so they decided to make whatever the hell this show is instead. It revolves around a fictional team sport called skate leading, and we follow the world’s most insufferable main character, a former figure skater named Kensei who wants to return to the ice and join his school’s skate leading team after he finds out his childhood rival is going to compete in the sport. Look, this show is just trashy enough to get a certain type of audience hooked, and it mainly has to do with the best boy of the winter season, Hayato Sasugai, the aspiring team “coach” who pulled most of us into watching this show with his punk appearance, snide comments and smug personality. He’s basically the lovechild of Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima in a high school sports anime setting. The show treats itself with the perfect amount of sincerity to get away with being absolutely ridiculous most of the time without making you feel like you’re watching it from a dumpster...like Try Knights. You will know after one episode whether this show is for you. All I can say is, Hayato is worth the watch, and I haven’t seen any 3D animation used for the skating scenes (yet) so that’s a win for me. 

Honorable mention:

Jobless Reincarnation ( Mushoku Tensei): Yet another isekai where the main character is hit by a car (big surprise) and gets reincarnated into a fantasy world...but he happens to remember his previous life and narrates himself growing up as a jaded adult. I’m only including this because it looked amazing animation wise, and I love the opening where getting hit by a car and dying is actually traumatic. And I love the protagonist’s parents (who are retired adventurers who just want to bang all the time). But honestly...the main character is the fucking worst, and I don’t know if I want to keep watching it because of how creepy and weird he is. Like...he’s the hit on your fantasy mom as a baby kind of creepy and weird. But for anyone who wants a cool looking isekai that had an amazing PV, it’s worth checking out. 

Continuing Series!

Because the real gold of the season is in all the established anime getting their next seasons, I’m just going to list some of the things that are also amazing and definitely worth checking out if you haven’t already (because I’ve already talked about most of them at some point and don’t know what else to say).

Attack On Titan season 4

The Promised Neverland season 2

Beastars season 2

Log Horizon season 3

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime season 2

Re: Zero season 2 (second cour)

Dr. Stone season 2

Cells at Work season 2

Osomatsu-san season 3 (second cour)

Higurashi New (second cour)

Jujutsu Kaisen (second cour) 

Not to mention all the shows I don’t watch that everyone else loves...like World Trigger (which I have seen quite a bit of, but long shounen shows are too much for me now) Quintessential Quintuplets, and Non Non Biyori. 

So there’s just some of all the anime airing this season. Hopefully, someone can find something they like. Here’s to a great year...well, of anime at least...

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Lullaby

Keanu Reeves x Reader (Chapter Summary- Two months later and one person is still being affected by a decision they made and another’s apparent rejection bothers them more than they’d prefer to admit.) (Warning- slight NSFW)

Chapter1     Chapter2

Chapter 3

A breathy sigh escaped her parted, plump lips. The silkiness of her legs rubbed against his thighs and her breasts felt firm and warm, just enough to fit in his palm with room for him to knead appreciatively. The slick heaven between her parted legs was so tight, cocooning Keanu’s member perfectly as he slid in and out of her in controlled thrusts. Her little gasps bounce of the walls, joining his low throaty grunts. Oh the sounds she makes. Y/n’s hair haloed around her on the white cotton pillow, messy and wild. She looked so divine in the most corrupted way. She’s so young, beautiful, oozing with youthful appeal.  And she’s all his.

Except, she’s not. Not really.

With startle, Keanu awoke, sitting up in his bed, drenched in sweat......and something else. “Fuck,” he breathed, scrubbing his hands harshly over his face, proceeding to rub sleep out of his eyes. It was just minutes away from five in the morning and the sun hadn’t even risen yet, but Keanu knew that there was no chance of him falling back asleep.

It had become almost routine by then, his slumber being interrupted by dreams of Y/n, naked in his bed, or other parts of his house. The location never mattered, but for two months, it had been her. His mind had taken it upon itself to conjure up a slew of different sexual fantasies, ideas never seemed to be in shortage, much like his body’s gullibility when it came to believing them.

With a disgruntled sigh, Keanu shook the covers off and took a minute to offer his deflating crotch an annoyed stare. There was a stain at the front and those would be yet another pair of sleep pants that he’d have to hold back of the laundry hamper and deal with himself, lest Linda find out that she was actually working for a thirteen year old boy just discovering the mechanics of his body and not a grown man with the ability to not nut in his pants. 

“The fuck is wrong with me?” He asked himself as he striped lazily, heading for the shower. As he got in, Keanu turned on the hot water, looking up as the water rained down from the entire ceiling of the sizeable cubicle. The shower in the master bath was one of the many things he loved about his house. It mimicked rainfall and could be easily controlled by the sleek silver knobs on the dark tiled wall. 

As Keanu washed himself, his hands rough hands passing over his body, his mind flashed to the night from not too long ago, when he had gotten off the mere memories of a dream of Y/n. Since then, he had refrained from masturbation, at  least to her image. It felt wrong, like he was violating her somehow. Y/n had probably forgotten their encounter by then, returning to....whatever women her age did. Shopping, dating men who weren’t fifty-something- learning how to run multi-million dollar empires. 

He had refrained, yes. And Keanu liked to think that he was normally a man of great, strong restraint, but that morning, as he stood in the shower, hot water washing over him, his fingers brushed his member and thoughts of Y/n took a racy turn. He closed his eyes and started imagining that she was there, her hands touching him, settling to circle his growing erection, pumping slowly as her lips pressed to his, and she mumbled against him, “This what you want, huh? Let me make you feel good baby.”

Throwing his head back, Keanu groaned, his imagination running wild, his vison going white. 

Men. They were all the same, weren’t they? Y/n was starting to believe the archaic stereotype. They had to be, else, she wouldn’t be in the position she was in. Sitting in a boardroom, eyes blank and teeth clenched as she listened to rantings of an ancient CFO, who apparently didn’t understand the concept of seasonal changes. As he spoke, Y/n found it hard to stay in the moment.....until he called her out on it, “You know, Miss Warren, if you don’t want to stay, the door’s right there. I’m sure kids your age want nothing more than to run wild all, boozed up.”

At his comment, Y/n sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she tried not to snap. After a minute, she plastered on a wide smile, “Run wild?” She quoted, malice edging her tone, “I can assure Mr. Priestly, I’m not bored, just in awe of you’re.......stupidity. I’m not sure if it’s ignorance or if you’ve never watched the news, but the reason we aren’t making in the tropics is because of the hurricane season. You know, hurricanes; big scary storms; lots of wind and rain, really dangerous and we’ve had to close three braches so far because of them,” her words drew down, her tone grew whiney and mocking and an episode of quiet laughter ran across the table as other board members snickered.  

The older man’s face grew hot pink with either embarrassment or anger, and from a mile away anyone could see that his jaw was clenched. The stocky, sausage fingers of his wrinkled hands clenched into his fist before he stuffed them into his pockets, fuming, “Michael, maybe teach your daughter a little respect,” Priestly glared at her father who sat at the head of the sleek glass table, combating his own proud smile.

Michael cleared his throat, leaning back further into his impressive leather chair, folding his arms and nodding, “Yes. Of course. Good observation Y/n,” he tried to look serious, clearing his throat and nodding stiffly, “But perhaps there are better ways to correct our colleagues,” before Priestly could grumble a remark about Y/n not actually being his colleagues, Y/n’s father continued, “But Roger, maybe next time, read the brief first,” he tapped his tablet screen knowingly.

The rest of the meeting went by mostly uneventfully, save for a few snide remarks traded back and forth between Roger and Y/n. At the end of it, everyone gathered their things, dispersing; heading back to their respective offices. After a quick word with her father about the rest of her tasks for the day, Y/n did the same. Usually, they’d ride the elevator together, but he’d promised her mother a lunch date, and Y/n had opted to stay back at the office.

As she stalked past the receptionists’ desk, one of the young girls, just about Y/n’s age or a little younger; Emily, called her back, “Oh! Miss Warren-”

“Emily, we’ve been over this, you can call me Y/n, we went to middle school together,” Y/n chuckled, rounding back to the large shared desk.  

“Y/n,” Emily smiled politely, “You’re cousin is here, she’s waiting in your office.”

“Great! Thanks,” after pleasant good byes, Y/n went straight to her office, pulling open one side of the mahogany doors, the long silver handle cool in her palm, “Jill I-”

“Surprise!” A cluster of voices yelled in cheery unison. 

Taken a back, Y/n jumped, stumbling back into the already closed door. It took barely a minute for her expression of pure shock, with just a bit of fright mixed it, before her face took on a more excited expression. There in her office, was almost everyone she had called a friend over the past ten years; a few girls her age from the country club her parents frequented, a couple people from college and just some others she’d met at parties and other snazzy events, “Oh my god! What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re here for you, obviously. Jill told us that you’ve committed yourself to these four walls,” a guy, someone who Y/n had met on her very first day of college, Mathew, broke from the small crowd, pulling her into a sideways hug, “And we’re here to tell you, that we won’t stand for that.”

“Matt,” Y/n yelped, hugging him back, “It’s been forever. How is the world of venture capitalism?” She laughed lightly.

“About as fun as it sounds,” he grinned, finally pulling away, going to a cooler that they had somehow managed into her office, and getting out a couple beers, “I’m serious though. We’re taking you on a vacation.”

“In May?” Y/n’s brows furrowed in confusion, “We can’t just-”

“Nuh uh,” Catharine, a young woman her age, who Y/n had known since she was sixteen cut her off, “Relax Y/n/n, it’s a week, not a month. You need to unwind and relax. And you’ve missed at least two birthdays, so you have to make up for those too.”

Y/n sighed, a little excited for the activities in the near horizon, but also a little worried about what her father would think if she just stole away from her work for an entire week. Seeing her tormented expression, Jillian stepped in, placing her hands on Y/n’s shoulders, “I already asked Uncle Michael; he’s okay with it and Aunt Heather thinks that this could be good for you,” Jillian's hands rubbed up and down the silk sleeves of Y/n’s blouse and her eyes pleaded with hers, “Come on cuz, all you’d have to do is pack a bag and grab your passport.”

Y/n worried on her bottom lip, thinking that it might be nice to get away for a week, to wear something other than high heels and skirt suits. Sighing, she rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, her friends seemed to be holding their breaths in anticipation of her answer and a smile tugged at the corner of Y/n’s lips as she spoke, “Well, where are we going?”

Excited cheers erupted and someone popped a bottle of champagne, quickly handing her a glass. Jillian was the one to propose her toast, and answer Y/’s question, “To beautiful, sexy people, old friends, and yachts in Greece!”

At that, glasses clinked, and everyone drank.

“Hey, whatever happened between you and you sexy movie star friend?” Y/n along with Jillian, Catharine and a couple other ladies were gathered in her closet, helping her pack while everyone else made last minute preparations.

“What sexy movie star?” Amanda, another one of Y/n’s college friends, who had taken her business expertise to Silicon Valley after they graduated asked, “We talked on the phone last week and you didn’t tell me about a movie star. Who was he?”

“He’s hot right?” Catharine interjected, holding up a deep green sundress with happy colorful flowers on it. Briefly, she examined it, then, satisfied, she tossed it into a suitcase.

Another friend, Tracy, the lone doctor of their group giggled at their questions, before asking a couple of her own, “I think the real question is; which one of Hollywood’s silver foxes is Y/n hiding from us. Tell me his last name, an I’ll tell you if I’ve seen his dick.”

Y/n, who had taken a quick shower when they got back to her place, stood in her bathrobe, surveying her selection of bathing suits, “Why would you have seen his dick?”

Tracy scoffed, “You’d be surprised, I make a lot of money on penis enlargements. I’ve seen some pretty famous cocks.”

At that, the girls laughed and Jillian shook her head, “I too have seen famous cocks,” she laughed, “But don’t you have some kind of doctor-patient confidentiality?”

Tracy shrugged and it was Catharine who spoke up again, “I think we’re losing focus here; Y/n slept with a movie star and didn’t tell us. And she won’t even tell us who he was.”

“Or if she’s seen him again,” Amanda inserted.

When Y/n turned to face her friends, holding a bathing suit in each hand, one with a colorful pattern from a season ago and the other a timeless, black, designer bikini, all eyes were on her, expectant and awaiting an answer. Even Jillian, who knew exactly who he was and that Y/n had in fact not slept with him, look amused. “Well, I didn’t tell you because it didn’t happen. We almost had sex. Almost as in someone,” she shot an accusing eye at Jillian, “Interrupted us. And he was Keanu Reeves.”

“Excuse me?” Tracy laughed loudly, dropping the pair of denim shorts she had been holding, “As in Johnny Utah, Jack Traven, and my newest favorite; John Wick. Wow,”  she paused breathlessly, “I’ve actually never seen his dick.”

“Oh” Catharine, an eternal romantic exclaimed, clapping her hands together, “He’s in my favorite movie-”

Before she could even finish, everyone was saying, “Sweet November,” then a little more disconnected, “We know.”

“You should call him,” Amanda suggested matter-of-factly, “That’s a once in a life time opportunity right there.”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/n began sarcastically, “I’ll just pick up my phone and call him, with a number that I don’t have, and ask him to come fuck me on the way to the airport. Hope seven isn’t too much of a crowd,” she ended with a chuckle.

“Like Y/n Warren who has everything at her fingertips can’t get his phone number,” Amanda argued lightly, “You could have anything you want. Any phone number, any address, anything. And that’s what’s stopping you?”

“Yeah,” Y/n gasped, not believing that she was actually being pressured about something like that, “What do you think it is?”

“Fear. He’s nice guy, at least according to everyone who’s ever met him. What if it doesn’t live up to whatever you imagined. You know what they say about nice guys,” Amanda winked and Y/n could have sworn that Tracy whispered something about over achievers.

Jillian was the one who spoke up next, “Well let’s not breath down her back, while we take a minute to consider that this might not be all her fault. Why don’t you tell them what you did.”

Y/n’s cheeks took on a bright pink tint, heat rushing to her ears, “How do you know that?”

“I heard, I was standing like, a foot away.”

Scoffing Y/n shook her head, zipping her suitcase closed and pulling it to the floor, “I.....invited him over. And he never came. There,” she finalized, moving on to finding something to wear to the airport, “He essentially rejected me and that’s it, it was two months ago and I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.

Before anyone in the room could propose otherwise, Mathew was poking his head into the doorway, “I swear I’m not looking,” he put a hand over his eyes, “But we need to get going, the car’s downstairs and the jet’s ready to go.”

Hurriedly, they finished packing and Y/n quickly got dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a grey cable knit sweater, hustling down the stairs, hoping to put the lingering disappointment from Keanu not showing up in the rearview. 

******

Tagging- @baphometwolf666   @a-really-bi-girl​  @paanchu786​

[izzy-b-hands]

Our House

Eugene is away on business for a few weeks, and they’ve both wanted bits and pieces of the house fixed up/changed. 

Snafu can do that all on his own, right? 

Important lessons about home improvement and how it is a fickle beast below the cut!

At the end, re: wine, I’m basing their reactions off of what wine does to me (makes me sleepy af and basically useless if I have more than a glass or two.) 

Also, I did get a weird headache mid-writing this so hopefully it sounds decent and I didn’t accidentally a word anywhere (I read over it for a quick edit, but y’all know I’m notorious for still missing mistakes until three days later.) If y’all do notice something off/an error on this, please let me know so I can fix it asap!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The three weeks marked on the calendar had seemed long, in the days prior to them. He’d spent those days moaning to Eugene about how difficult it would be, and how long the weeks would take to pass. 

They hadn’t felt long enough now though. 

The bedroom was done, at least, in a cheerful, soft, pastel yellow. A pastel sage green trim made the whole room feel like spring, at least to Snafu. Eugene would love it, that much he knew for sure. 

“He ain’t gonna love the rest of this though,” Snafu sighed, and took in the rest of the house as he walked through it. Eugene would be back in a day, and he had so much left to do: 

The kitchen was missing half the cabinet doors, which were outside near the shed, halfway to being refinished, varnished, and repainted a light rose pink with white accents. He had never realized just how many cabinets they had until now, and it seemed like too many.

The guest bathroom had yet to be retiled, though the tiles were sitting ready for him to put down. 

The guest bedroom was waiting to be repainted a greyish green, but he hadn’t had time to even crack the paint cans open. 

And finally, and perhaps worst, the living room was...

“A fuckin’ disaster,” Snafu muttered to himself as he walked into it, carefully. The repainting of it to a plum had gone just fine. However, a bit of paint had gotten onto the velvet chaise lounge they’d recently bought at a flea market. They were going to reupholster it anyway, why not do it now to get rid of the paint? 

Snafu shook his head at the memory of asking himself that question. From there, he’d been on a search for a nice velvet to replace the original that would also match the walls, and be to Eugene and his tastes. Easier said than done, and made all the harder at the realization that some of the wood flooring had, at some point, somehow been damaged (maybe when they’d moved in the lounge? He couldn’t be sure.) 

Which meant of course the wood flooring needed to be repaired, which was...a task, putting it mildly.

“How the hell am I gonna finish this?” Snafu asked Queen, who was preening on the leftover velvet for the lounge. 

She rolled over and turned away from him, still preening with one paw. 

“Exactly,” he sighed, then traipsed into the front hall, sitting onto the first step of the staircase to the upper level. “I just gotta make a plan, right? I mean, he might not even notice the guest room; I can paint that later. Bathroom might be an issue, but we don’t even use that bathroom that much, I can hide the tiles. And how often does anybody really look at a cabinet, like really look, ya know?” 

Queen looked over, sighed, and closed her eyes for a nap.

“Right? I don’t look at cabinet doors, that’s for sure,” Snafu continued. “So that just leaves the living room, and the living room-” 

The front door creaked open, and he just barely resisted the urge to bolt. 

“Hey! Is Eugene ba-what in the everloving...” Sidney froze in the doorway, staring at the living room mess. “So, he isn’t back yet then?” 

Snafu shook his head. “Nah, or I’d be dead.” 

“He won’t be that upset,” Sidney soothed. “I know you mentioned you were doin’ some work but...damn. Hey, nearly done though, really. Just the chair there, and the floor some, and-” 

“Most of the rest of the house,” Snafu interrupted. “I got a little ambitious.” 

“How ambitious?” Sidney asked gently, and joined Snafu on the step. 

By the time Snafu was done regaling him with everything that needed doing, Sidney had gone pale. 

“That’s maybe a little too ambitious indeed, Snaf. But, I admire it.” 

“And now you’re headin’ on home, right?” 

Sidney frowned. “Hell do you mean? I’m gonna help you get done whatever we can. We’ll call Mary, she can come by and help paint, and help you with that lounge. Between the three of us, we can get some of it done at least.” 

Snafu stared. They were friends more for Eugene’s sake, rather than to actually be friends (if anything, he got along better with Mary.) There was nothing wrong with Sidney, they just hadn’t clicked in any major way. But it was moments like this he was grateful they both put in the work to become better friends, because what was a good friend if not occasionally a home improvement knight in shining armor?

He hugged Sidney tight, until Sidney finally tried to wriggle out. “Thank you. I know he wouldn’t actually kill me-” 

“He doesn’t even like raising his voice to you,” Sidney interrupted. “Every time y’all argue, he calls me and says how bad he feels about any shouting. And I highly doubt it’s even really ‘shouting.’ But you might have earned it this time, though I would defend you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. This was done with good intentions, to give him a nice surprise to come home too. Not your fault home improvement shit never goes right,” Sidney replied. “Come on, get up. We got a long night, and I still gotta call Mary.” 

Once Mary was over, it was shocking how fast it all seemed to go. It wasn’t that Sid and Mary rushed him or their own tasks, just that it seemed...easier. The house was warm and loud (as well as the backyard for the last few hours of daylight, while he and Sid finished up the cabinet doors, leaving them painted and drying near the back door) and with the dog and cats occasionally peeking in to check on them, it all felt lively and just good. Better than it had felt for the weeks of being empty except for himself and the pets. 

It was six in the morning when they gave up, and, and Sidney put it “had to accept it for what it was.” 

Which wasn’t terrible, all things considered. 

The last bit of the living room flooring had been fixed up, and the lounge reupholstered thanks to Mary’s endless hard work on it. 

The guest bedroom might need another coat, but it was at least mostly done, and the animals had been kept out of it so the door could be shut, keeping the paint fumes mostly confined to the hall near it. 

The guest bathroom still had some tiles to finish putting down, but it was about halfway done, and that was a hell of a lot further than Snafu had figured they’d get. 

The cabinet doors still needed to finish drying and be actually put back onto the kitchen cabinets, but they looked damn pretty. 

They cleaned up, and settled in to wait for Eugene.

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

“He would have called by now,” Snafu muttered, after four hours had passed from when Eugene was supposed to be home. “I should go down to the station, see why he isn’t in yet. Maybe he meant for me to pick him up and forgot to say...” 

Sidney shook his head. “That ain’t Eugene. He has a checklist for his checklists; he would have told you. At least four times.” 

Mary nodded. “Do you have a number you can call him at? Maybe his train got delayed and he’s still at his hotel in, where was it again he was going?” 

“Atlanta,” Snafu replied, and walked to the phone with them and three of the cats on his heels. 

He wasn’t at the hotel, nor at the train station in Atlanta. Nor was he at the train station in Mobile, waiting to be picked up. 

“Merriell, don’t panic,” Sidney said softly as they walked back to the couch, and Sid using his proper name was enough to send him spiraling. 

“What if he’s hurt, what if something happened? I should have just gone with him, y’all could have looked after the pets, and I could have found somethin’ to do in Atlanta while he was busy. This is my fault.” 

“How on earth is this your fault?” Mary asked. “I’m sure he’s just fine, probably just...held up, somehow. Who knows, maybe he just can’t catch a cab to the station.”

“For four hours?” Sidney scoffed, then winced as Mary slapped his arm. “I mean yeah. You never know. Could be a cab driver shortage...” 

He expected them to leave, but they stayed even as the day wore on into the evening. Mary eventually got up to check on the paint in the guest room, and when she didn’t return, Snafu figured it was dry enough for the final coat. Sid followed shortly after in getting up, and the sound of the back door opening and closing let him know that the cabinet doors were apparently ready to be put back in place. 

Meanwhile, he waited and watched the phone. 

“Snaf, I’m sure he’s fine,” Sidney said as they finally slipped on their shoes and retrieved their keys from the front hall table. “Somethin’ silly just held him up, and he’ll be rushing in here before you know it. Let yourself get some sleep, okay?” 

Mary nodded, and turned to the door, only to nearly be smacked in the face by it as it swung open.

“I am so sorry,” Eugene was a mess, hair clearly unbrushed, clothes wrinkled, and eyes wild. “Are you okay? Why are you two here? I mean, I don’t mean that like; you just don’t live here is what I mean-” 

“Gene,” Sidney said gently. “Shut the fuck up and breathe for a minute. What happened?” 

Eugene sighed, kicked off his shoes, and moved past them to drop on the newly upholstered chaise lounge. “Snaf, it’s for you. Got it sitting outside. It’s wrapped up, but take a look. Hopefully you like it, and then we can bring it inside. Thought we could hang it in here, on the-did you paint in here?” 

Snafu ignored Sidney’s face-palm and Mary’s shaking head as he headed outside. Just by the front door, was a too-big-for-one-person-to-carry framed canvas, bits of the golden colored frame sticking out from under the brown paper wrapping. And under the paper...

“Those are our babies!” Snafu crowed, and ran back inside, nearly knocked the lounge back as he dropped onto it to hug Eugene. “You had to have commissioned that ages ago, to get them pictures of the cats and God knows how you got a decent one of Ack-Ack, and when did you do that?” 

“Soon as they mentioned they might need me to travel,” Eugene replied. “Called around, found a local artist, sent the pictures along in the mail whenever I got a chance that you weren’t paying attention. Thought it would be a way to make up for me being gone, but gettin’ that thing in and off of a train was something else, and then they nearly didn’t want to let me on, and-” 

Eugene shrugged. “But I made it. And it made it. You like it?” 

“I love it!” he buried his face in Eugene’s shoulder, hugging him tight again and taking in everything about him again, how he felt, the scent of his cologne. “But you better not be goin’ anywhere for awhile regardless. I can tell you later, but I-” 

“You two are absolutely meant for each other,” Sidney laughed. “You with the picture, and this fool...he redid half the damn house while you were gone. With our help, though we were happy to do it. That lounge you’re sittin’ on?” 

Eugene looked down at it as he moved out of Snafu’s embrace as if he was seeing it for the first time. “This wasn’t green velvet when I left.” 

“No, no it wasn’t,” Mary smiled. “But it is now! And wait’ll you see the rest of it, he worked hard. Ran out of time, but he worked hard.” 

“How much did you try to do in three weeks?” Eugene laughed, though his smile drooped slightly as not one of the three of them answered.

“Tell you what,” Snafu replied after a moment. “We get that painting inside, hung up, and have dinner. And then I’ll tell you all what I did, and how I owe our Sid and Mary a very big favor for it, starting with a late dinner tonight if you both want to stay.” 

“...Everything is one piece, right?” 

“Except for the tile of the guest bathroom, yes,” Sid interjected. “And if you’ll have us, we’d be happy to stay. Can get that last bit of tiling done with Snaf before we go.”

“I like it! And we’ll have a bit of wine to celebrate your being home,” Snafu said to Eugene, and kissed him before hopping off the lounge and towards the kitchen. “In fact, wine first, picture hanging, then dinner, then tiling?” 

“Sounds like a dangerous combination,” Eugene said. “But why not, if we’re celebrating. How badly can it turn out?” 

Two bottles of wine between them all, and the rest of the night later, they managed to get the picture inside and resting safely against a wall in the front hall, and the guest bathroom was left mercifully untouched by any drunken work. 

Despite it, Snafu had never been happier. Eugene was home, there was good food, good wine, good friends, a gorgeous gift, and the house looked lovely. He couldn’t ask for more. 

[thanksjro]

Telefunken, A Prequel to Eugenesis: The Future Is Obsessed With Making Babies

OR

All These Materials, And I Still Had To Keep The Wiki Open The Whole Time

This short story was included with the secondary publication of Eugenesis, which happened in 2007, six years after the first run. Yep. He had multiple publication runs. Back when you had to actually go and talk to people about what you wanted published instead of doing everything online. For a novel-length fan fiction about murdering space robots and then having them give birth to tentacle monsters.

I wish I had the friggin’ brass balls Roberts does.

Telefunken as a term doesn’t mean anything in any language, but that doesn’t mean we can’t gain any sort of understanding using context clues.

Tele- as a part of Greek, means “from a distance.” So whatever’s happening is far off. In the future, perhaps? The pre-story quotes certainly seem to imply such a thing.

A couple hundred years into the future, actually. With a list like that, one has to wonder just who the hell can get into Maccadam’s these days.

Funken itself actually is a word- it’s German for spark. So “from a distance” + “spark”. Alright, let’s see where this goes.

Is… is this someone trying to convince someone else to read Eugenesis? Is Roberts making the space robots read this batshit story? Is he threatening them? Because making someone read an entire book’s worth of slaughter of their race sort of feels like a threat.

Okay, moving on to actual story, our narrator starts the day by blinding himself. He turns the input on his optics all the way up and stares at the sun.

I don’t know why.

Once he’s done that, he reflects on the nature of change, and how some things just can’t be fixed.

I see we’ve hit our fascist phase. Because they’re only allowed to enjoy the rejuvenation of the planet if they’re wearing Prowl’s face on their chest, right?

Our narrator seems to have an alternate take on the walls, though- seems more like they’re trying to keep the citizens in as opposed to the ruffians out.

Scene jump, and we’re in the middle of a conversation between two folks about some guy who killed an Autobot and fled. Yeah, no one with dialogue has been properly identified as of yet. All I know currently is that one of the conversationalists is a commander. Something tells me Nightbeat’s involved with the scene.

But that’s just a hunch.

So, looks like the Transformers had a little more room for the war buffet after all, because they’ve had at least two named squabbles in the last couple centuries. Hence, our narrator is off to try and corroborate a rumor that Galvatron is still kicking around.

He heads through the religious sector to get downtown, lamenting that Iacon’s been reduced to a military city-state in order to keep some façade of peace going on. He didn’t go through the hell that was the Eugenesis Wars for this.

Ooh, a dash of fantastic racism to really bring out the acidic taste of Orson Welles 1984. Maybe this is Prowl, actually, which would explain why he hasn’t been explicitly named. Would kind of ruin the whole end of the novel, wouldn’t it?

I’m not saying it’s Prowl because of the racism. More the clean dividing of folks into categories and statistical data.

Our narrator walks through the throng, ignores a homeless veteran, and passes by a crowd of Creationists on pilgrimage, and with that he’s off to Autobot City 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Meanwhile, back with the guys reading this account- yes, turns out they’re outside of this particular story- more details are being revealed.

The Turning, you say.

Vampire robots it is, then.

Back with the narrator, he’s just found what he’d been looking for- an Autobot badge, close enough to the real thing to work for his purposes. He heads inside something called an “ingestion tank”- I’m imagining the fucking eating chairs from IDW2- and oh-so-sneakily adds a few screw-looking bombs to the badge.

Hmm. I’m thinking my guesses are just a bit off-base.

Back at the narrative, our narrator has just arrived at the Ministry, where Sideswipe and his boys are truly living up to the ACAB lifestyle- Sideswipe is literally unloading clips into a crowd of protestors. Apparently this isn’t anything new.

Oh-kay. So. Back in the epilogue for Eugenesis, Wheeljack made an offhand comment about Rodimus wanting to look into streamlining the biomorphic reproductive process, using the power of science. This was something Ratchet really wasn’t thrilled about- he’s the Transformer-equivalent to being child-free, I guess- and let me tell you something: if Ratchet thinks something is a bad idea, it almost absolutely is. But it looks like Rodimus got his way, if our narrator’s cryptic statements are to be believed.

Let’s get fucking weird for a second.

Millions of years ago the biomorphic process was decided to be too slow for the colonial ways of the Cybertronian Empire, so morphing centers were created, where protoforms were basically injected with false memories to kickstart their lives. Think MTO programming from IDW, but more mechpreggy. This practice died out when the shortage of energon caught up with everyone, and was left behind for the most part.

EXCEPT FOR THIS. Turns out that Kup actually wasn’t all that old, he just thought he was. Why did they do this? Assumedly for the preservation of their research. Does it factor into anything ever for Kup? Nah, not really. Also:

🄹🄰🄼🄴🅂 🅆🄷🄰🅃 🅃🄷🄴 🄵🅄🄲🄺

Telefunken really is what makes the director’s cut of Eugenesis. This is where all the really weird shit is. If you ever fucking read this nightmare of a book, you better make sure Telefunken is included, because you will be reeling.

Anyway, the planet can’t handle more than a few hundred thousand robots, energon-wise, so the Treaty of Antimorphism was signed- a sort of “no more mechpreg” agreement between the Autobots and Decepticons. Not sure how they’re going to stop someone’s torso from vomiting up a goo baby, seeing as the process appears to be completely random, but they probably know more about the process than I do.

Yeah, that treaty is broken almost immediately. I mean, come on, we know who’s writing this story, it’s amazing that the idea was even remotely considered.

The Autobots decided that they were going to start underground biomorph rings, where Lifers- y’know, the guys who can actually do this sort of thing- spit out protoforms on command to supplement the Autobot forces, in case more war broke out.

They can give birth on command.

I-

I just-

How-

Okay. Sure.

BUT HOW-

Of course, a lot of people had a problem with this, seeing as they already had a solution to the problem of a limited population, in the copies of everyone’s brains Rodimus had commissioned after the events of Eugenesis. Yeah, that’s the root of the problem right there: it was unnecessary. Certainly not the violations of the free will and rights of the poor bastards who got chained to a table and told to start pumping out new robots at what was probably gunpoint in the basement of some bombed out building. Nope! Just that the whole thing was superfluous.

That was about the time that the Anticopyist protests started- how convenient- and the mind crystals were buried, never to see the light of day. Of course, Star Saber might have had a hand in quietly recovering the crystals, but that’s just hearsay.

It’s all going down the tubes, really- High Commands gearing up for the inevitable civil war that’s about to break out amid all this bullshit. Prowl and Nightbeat are trying to put a stop to things, but what are two guys with crippling depression going to do against all this crap? Not much. Especially now that there are Neogens discovering that they aren’t who they think they are.

The slogan is “maximum speed, maximum efficiency.” I’ll let you take a wild guess as to what these weirdos call themselves.

Sideswipe and his goons get done with killing civilians, and our narrator can finally get on with their mission- an interview with Rodimus Prime, who is dying. Again. We just can’t keep our Primes alive, can we? Can’t keep ‘em dead either, but that’s not the point.

But I thought Cyclonus was key.

…I’m sorry, that was dumb.

Anyway, our narrator gets through security, bombs undetected, and prepares to finish his thesis.

These outside conversationalists are kind of morbid, aren’t they? Still, we wouldn’t have the narrative if they weren’t, so thanks? I guess? For being weird voyeurs of terrorist activities?

The narrator makes his way to the basement, where they’ve got Rodimus stashed.

But how are his tiddies? Are they ridiculously huge? Does he breast boobily down the hall towards you? Too bad First Aid’s dead, he’d be all over this behemoth.

You know, last time we saw Springer, his sole purpose in life was getting high. Wonder how he got to this point in just a couple hundred years. That’s nothing to these guys. Guess he traded in the space-heroin for juicing.

Springer, because I guess he’s kind of an asshole in this story, threatens our narrator, saying that he’s got a joor- pretty much an hour- to talk to Rodimus, and one second beyond that he’s throwing his ass out the door. He makes this point very emphatically, and repeatedly. Springer needs to take a chill pill.

With that, our narrator double-checks that his rigged badge is still there- how many times are we going to blow up Rodimus Prime?- and enters the medvault.

Rodimus isn’t doing so hot.

Despite the obvious lag in his brain, Rodimus is happy to be of service to a young student, and invites the narrator to sit and stay awhile.

Now that’s just cruel, Roberts. You gotta give Rodimus something, you already killed his best friend and most of his comrades. No wonder he’s depressed in every continuity, all the writers are mean as hell to our boy Rodders.

Our narrator starts off by asking about Scorponok, and Rodimus takes so long to answer he wonders if the guy just went ahead and died. But Rodimus, ever a good sport, does eventually answer. He talks about all the major Decepticon players, and our narrator smiles and listens, waiting for the point where Unicron is mentioned. He really wants to hear about Unicron, and can practically taste his presence in the room, seeing as Rodimus is still possessed.

You see, our dear narrator is a space-satanist.

Unfortunately, when Rodimus finally utters the name of the robot-devil, nothing happens.

No, see, if the Transformers had Plan B, none of this mechpreg stuff would be fucking happening.

This is where our outside conversationalists come more into play, revealing themselves to be Star Saber- finally entering the story proper- and Great Shot, who I can’t seem to find anything on. We get treated to the security footage from this point on, getting a lovely scene of our narrator yelling at a dying old man, as the two discuss the Turning. It’s a major point of concern for a lot of the troops, and we’re shown why, as Rodimus starts having a Reagan-from-the-Exorcist-level fit about the same time as our narrator drops his bomb. The room explodes, and our narrator escapes out into the world.

From here on, all of the narrative comes from out narrator’s internal recording. He keeps running, beyond the walls of the city and into the Rad Zone, until he hits Eocra. Eocra is where that chunk of space rock from Liars A-to-D was housed. I guess we’ll find out if it’s still there.

He requests an audience with Servion from a member of the Brotherhood of Chaos whom he doesn’t recognize, and is ushered inside.

Into an underground room with a window showing the stars and just packed with Decepticons. Even Blitzwing’s there- I’d figured he’d been one of the POWs who kicked the bucket, but apparently not. Turns out that door he went through was a teleport. They want our narrator’s thesis. He hands it over immediately.

Go for it, guys, his resume from today alone is beyond impressive. He’s done more in the last six hours than most of your top guys have done in their entire careers.

The Decepticons say that they’ll be in touch, and with that they shove him out of the room. Well, that’s that. Guess it’s time to go and see if the rumors about the losers in Kalis are a bunch of bunk after all.

And that’s the end of his datalog.

Back with the ‘Cons, the boys are gossiping about their new hire. Turns out he’s one of theirs anyway- a Neogen, and his name is Tarantulus.

I checked, it’s a valid alternate spelling of his name.

Over with Galvatron- did you honestly think he was dead?- the edgy bastard’s preparing for the Final Purge. Turns out he’s still under Unicron’s thumb, even after all this time. He’s pleased to hear that Rodimus is dying, and recalls being able to corrupt the Lifecode when he needled the Prime during other desperate moments. He decides he’s going to do that again.

Back with Start Saber and Great Shot, the boys are cooking up some tasty treats in their politically-powered lie kitchen. As far as the public knows, Tarantulus was shot to death by the guards when he approached the wall. Prime’s Turned, which sucks for him, but might work out in Star Saber’s favor. Just too bad that that one guard got in between Rodimus and the bomb blast.

So I guess Star Saber being less than piously heroic is just a Roberts thing. Alrighty then.

That’s the end of Telefunken. This answers as many questions as it presents, leaving us at a net-neutral for understanding just what the fuck is going on. Awesome.

[strangerontheotherside84]

Wild Child (Billy Hargrove x Reader) part 4

Disclamer: Tumblr somehow screwed with the layout of this one (but only in the app) so if this looks weird just open it in ur browser

Warnings: language, sexual tension, a little bit nswf-ish? maybe

Detention at Hawkins High really was the most boring thing you could imagine. They didn’t even try to get you to study or do your homework. Instead you just had to sit around in whatever classroom was free that afternoon until 6pm. Due to a shortage on staff, many teachers had gotten the flue this week, Mr. Jenkins hadn’t even tried to find a teacher to supervise the two of you and had just locked the classroom door instead. He was however checking up on you every hour to make sure none of you had climbed through the window. What did he think this was? The fucking Breakfast Club?

For the past 2 hours you had been sitting in complete silence staring at the clock that semeed to move backwards at this point. The only other thing except for the constant ticking noise you had been listening to was the noise of Billy’s fingers tipping against the woodden desk in front of him. He was sitting a few rows behind you and you could just feel his deadly stares in the back of your head.

„Could you cut it?“ your mumbled towards him, being the first one to fill this room with sound since what already felt like forever.

„What?“ he growled at you throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. You could clearly see the veins on his neck pulsating.

„That knocking sound. It’s driving me crazy.“ you replied.

„I need a smoke…. and if it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t be sitting here and your oh so sensitive ears wouldn’t even have to hear that.“

„For me?“ you laughed in disbelief while getting up from your seat, walking towards the curly haired boy raising an eyebrow at you, „Who has been getting on my nerves since the day he started to go to this school? Mind me if I’m wrong but I think that was YOU.“

„Just because you’re constantly being a total pain in the ass.“ Billy scoffed, getting up from his seat as well only to have the opportunity to look down at you.

„Well sorry that I don’t kiss the ground you walk on. Must have missed the memo telling everybody at school that you’re the greatest guy around.“ You hissed looking up to him. He wasn’t even that much taller than you but you could see in his eyes just how much he enjoyed building himself up in front of you like that.

„And why’s that?“ Billy moved his head closer towards you, your foreheads almost touching at this point.

„Because I think that you’re just a pretentious asshole with a huge ego and nothing more.“ you hissed.

„Or maybe.“ he began, his blue eyes flickering as a leer flashed across his face, „You’re not as different from me as you wish you’d be. And that’s driving you insane.“ Billy’s voice was now nothing more that a low breath brushing against your ear, your tense bodies not even leaving an inch between the two of you at this point.

„Oh yeah?“ you began witty. But then suddenly you didn’t know how to continue. Maybe because he was kinda right? Like, you knew that you could be kind of an asshole but you were definitely nowhere as bad as him. Or maybe you just couldn’t concentrate on the thoughts in your head anymore because all you could focus on was Billy’s stupid grin resting on you as he was looking at you in anticipation with that fucking pretty face of his. God how you hated that perfect face. You could feel the heat spreading across your body as your eyes wandered over his muscular chest and back to his lips that were still spotting that cocky smile.

„Oh fuck you.“ you mumbled as you grabbed Billy by the neck of his white shirt, pulling him towards you, pressing your lips onto his without further hesitation. He respnded immediately by grabbing your hip with one hand and burying the other in your hair as he pushed you towards the front of the classroom, knocking over a few chairs before ungently pushing your back against the blackboard. You could physically feel the tension that had been building up during that whole day, leave your body, as Billy kissed you roughly, forcefully pressing his body against yours, pulling your hair. You could as well have been fighting at this point. Your kisses were more than messy, hands violently grabbing every part of each other’s bodies, letting out all the built-up anger and hatred towards each other.

„What in the name of-STOP IT NOW!“ The sound of Mr. Jenkins voice made your heart drop, causing the both of you to immediately let go of each other, realizing what you had just done. „THIS IS A SCHOOL! YOU ARE IN DETENTION! NOT THE PLAYBOY MANSION.“

Damn (y/n) keep yourself together, you advised yourself while trying real hard not to laugh at that last comment.

„Sorry Mr. Jenkins..“ Billy mumbled while looking down at his feet, moving even further away from you.

„I DON’T WANNA HEAR ANYTHING FROM YOU.“ the yelling continued, „SINCE YOU APPARENTLY CAN’T CONTAIN YOURSELF AT SCHOOL YOU WILL BE EXPELLED FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK.“

„But-“ Billy began.

„I AM NOT FINISHED MR. HARGROVE. Now, since the two of you apparently seem to have a lot of time to be stupid, I’m sure you would love to help with our Middle School’s Snowball this friday. Be there at 5 I will let you know what your job is as soon as I can think of something that won’t cause you to behave like animals.“

„Does being expelled mean I can’t enter the school or that I can’t even access school property?“

Really? That’s what Billy cared about? No complaints about having to work at some boring middle school dance on a saturday night? Not like you could complain at this point. But still.

„Why do you want to know that Mr. Hargrove?“ Ok Mr. Jenkins seemed to be just as confused as you.

„Gotta drive my step-sister to school and pick her up…“ Billy mumbled. Did he sound concerned?

„Well I’m sure she can take the bus until next week and if not you can drop her off a few blocks from here.“ Mr Jenkins answered while leaving the room.

„Uhm Mr. Jenkins?“ you began causing him to turn around once more, „Is detention still going or-?“ „Oh definitely not. Both of you leave this building right know. You can continue whatever that was anywhere else but not here.“

Billy looked like he was trying to say something as Mr. Jenkins left the room, but you cut him off „Don’t even think about telling someone what just happened. Or even better: forget it yourself.“ Without waiting for an answer you left the room.

[funeral-clown]

beth i diagnose you with baby syndrome ok anyway here’s part two of the trifecta aka cablepool

Nathan Summers was the most powerful telepath alive. He was more powerful than his mother. He was more powerful than her mentor. He could reach every mind on Earth at once. 

Every mind except one.

Wade Wilson.

Deadpool.

The one person he wanted desperately to trust the most, yet also seemingly the least trustworthy man alive. He was insane, truly insane, and his mind was a beautiful fractured thing. Nathan couldn’t touch it without cutting himself on stray shards of broken psyche. Wade was an enigma. Seemingly transparent, yet always a surprise.

Nate loved him. Did everything in his power to help him, in his own quiet behind the scenes way. Nothing about Wade was quiet or behind the scenes. Nathan appreciated that about him.

But sometimes he had to ask himself how much of it was real.

Wade flirted, yes, but Cable had once seen him flirting with a headless, armless statue, then crying when said statue gave him the cold shoulder. He was warm and convivial, but he shot people in the head convivially. He broke into his apartment regularly, despite Cable happily offering to provide his own on Providence, and he had the habits of a half feral cat. He would slink in at all hours, covered in blood and smelling terrible but still nuzzling himself under Nathan’s considerably large shoulders and practically purring. He kept odd hours.

Nate didn’t always know where he went, what he did, what he ate, but Wade had a habit of coming back after you’ve fed him once.

In a way, Wade reminded him of home. Not the mansion, not Providence, not even Greymalkin, but the war torn world he grew up in. The ravaged hellscape he learned to walk and talk and love in. It had no shortage of scars, of sick, of twisted minds. Wade was a walking talking reminder of the inevitable, if Cable ever lost sight of his mission.

But aside from all that, there was a man. Underneath everything, there was a funny, kind man, with a sense of right and wrong, who loved food and kids and  dressing up and watching Golden Girls marathons. And Nate loved that man. And Wade said he loved him, too. And he believed him. He really did believe him.

But he couldn’t be sure. No one on Earth could lie to him, except for one man.

Wade Wilson.

Deadpool.

He tried not to let that sting. He tried not to let it show. Wade, in his own way, deserved better than that. No matter what anyone said. He just wished he could be sure.

Apparently, despite his best efforts, Wade caught on.

He was at the large communal breakfast with his people, laughing, smiling, watching the children play. He was content, until he heard the noise of the teleporter belt. A heavy weight draped itself across his lap, and he looked at a familiar red masked grin.

“Did you miss me?”

Nate snorted, a fond smile teasing at the edge of his mouth.

“Why, Wade? Were you gone?”

The theatrical shocked gasp made him want to laugh and bury his face in his neck, but they were in public.

“Why, Priscilla! Was that a joke? I’m rubbing off on you! In more ways than one!”

Wade waggled his non-existent eyebrows and stroked Cable’s TO arm.

With a roll of his eyes, he adjusted his body to better support his companion while still allowing himself to eat. Wade pouted before digging into Nate’s plate of fruit.

“Aaaannnyway, Natey-baby, I come here on a specific mission.”

He grunted an acknowledgement.

“Very sexy caveman. But we have a problem, Cable.”

He froze, staring concerned into his eyes. Well, his eye holes. Wade broke into a grin, bottom half of his face exposed.

“Youuuuu don’t trust me!”

Cable blinked, pushing down his slight guilt.

“Wade,” he said softly, “I don’t know how you got that idea, but-”

“Shush your handsome mouth, you emotionally repressed beefcake.”

He snorted.

“OBVIOUSLY you trust me in battle. You know I’ve got your sexy backside covered. I meant emotionally!” He drug out the last word, making an arch with his hands. Some kind of joke, no doubt. “It’s not a surprise, Nate. You’re the world’s biggest control freak, and I’m the world’s biggest wild card. There was bound to be some issues. And don’t get me wrong, if Bea Arthur’s ghost looked my way, I’d leave you in a heartbeat. For at LEAST a month. BUT! That hasn’t happened yet, so for now I’m all yours.”

“You don’t have t-”

“Shushushushushushushushushhhh!” A gloved finger pressed hard against his mouth, contorting his lips. “I don’t blame you, lover! But!” He flipped open one of his many pouches. He pulled out a glowing container, twirling it in his hand theatrically. “Thanks to our good mutual friend, Doctor Strange-”

“You stole something from Strange?”

“I was GIFTED something from Strange! And not something! THIS, my overstuffed burrito of love, is a truth potion.”

Cable’s eyebrows creased.

“Do you want me to drink it?”

Wade snorted.

“No, dummy.” He flicked the cap off. “I’m gonna drink it.”

And with that, he tossed his head back and swallowed it down. Nate tensed, eyes scanning him for any adverse affects. Wade grinned lazily.

“Hey, there, blue eyes,” he crooned, “Were you worried about me?”

“You know I was,” he muttered tersely.

“Awwwwwwwww, Bable, that’s why I love you. I’m literally indestructible, and you still worry a silly old magical potion is gonna treat me bad.”

Nate’s shoulders relaxed.

“Wade-”

“That,” he continued cheerfully, “And your enormous dick.”

Nate choked.

“I mean. Talk about proportionate. I know you didn’t get THAT from your dad, me and Wolvie have been talking-”

“Oh my god,” he whispered, head starting to hurt.

“But baby, wait, that’s only one of the reasons I love you! I also love you for your stupidly naive plan that’s going to get you killed! I love that you think it’s going to work! I love your hope. And your hands. Just. Great hands. Can your TO hand vibrate? That’s irrelevant. But only sort of. I gotta say, I was disappointed that you didn’t have more metal on your, uh, ROD, if you know what I mean-”

“Wade.”

“I’m just saying, the writers are cowards for not going all out!”

“Wade!”

“Oh, right, I’m talking about your dick again. I really love your dick. And your everything. I even love that you’re a bossy jackass! ESPECIALLY in bed. Like. Yeah.”

Nathan’s eyes shut as his face burned red. Wade’s voice had a way of carrying, and several dozen people who had chosen to breakfast there were all staring. Their expressions ranged from shocked to amused.

“Wade there are CHILDREN-”

“That reminds me, it’s not weird that I want to call you daddy like burning, right? Especially considering my relationship with my father, and-” Wade’s own hand shot up, covering his own mouth.

He laughed, tense, before letting go.

“Right. Yes. Small children. Anyway! What I’m trying to say is, I don’t care if you can read my mind or not. I love you. Emotionally. And mentally. Ha, get it, because I’m cra-”

Nate cut him off with a kiss, chest warm with an unfurling emotion.

“Wade,” he whispered, “Thank you. Really. I love you, too. Emotionally.”

“And physically?” Wade shimmied suggestively.

“And physically,” he laughed.

“And I can call you daddy?”

“Why not.”

“And I get exclusive rights to your enormous pe-”

“Wade.”

“Personality, jeez, Nate, get your head out of the gutter!”

Nathan shook his head, grinning. The entire cafeteria was chuckling and avoiding eye contact, and his own face was burning, and he was in love with the man on his lap, and that man loved him. Enough to ask Stephen Strange for help proving it. 

“Wade,” he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, big guy. I would even love you without the huge dick, because I love you that much.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“But please don’t get rid of it anytime soon, I would miss it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ok. Good.” With a loud smack to the cheek and a not-so-subtle grab at the last of his breakfast, Wade got up and started to click through his phone.

“What are you doing.”

“I’ve got to buy enough glow sticks to refill this jar and put it back before Strange notices it’s missing. See ya soon, lover-boy,”

Nathan laughed.

“Good luck, handsome.”

Wade blew him a kiss, winked, and vanished.

Face still pink, Nate went back to his breakfast.

[writingrage]

What Fate Had Wrought (1/4)

A Mulan Rouge (Red Warrior?) Fanfic

(Also Known As: A passionate attempt at remedying Once Upon a Time’s lack of Mulan screen time.)

Summary:  After finding Red's One True Love, Mulan returns to the village of her childhood, heartbroken twice over. However, the threat of a new beast and an army with unknown intentions looms over the village and disrupts the peace that Mulan tries to cultivate. Red visiting really doesn't help matters either.

Set a few months after the events of 5x18 "Ruby Slippers"

AO3 / Fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 1 - Selfishness

The first thing Hua Mulan noticed upon riding into Guifei village on Coursing River was the scent of fear that lingered in the air. Such a thing was palpable, especially in such a small settlement like Guifei, which was only a hundred strong during a fruitful season. Its denizens shuffled hurriedly through their daily tasks, kept idle chatter to a minimum, or simply didn't leave their homes. It was only when Mulan rode into its usually bustling market square that she caught sight of people, but their presence was light and fleeting. Whatever had these people so worried definitely warranted Mulan's presence.

Mulan did not venture into Guifei often. While she swore to protect its people since leaving the emperor's army after the war, she refused to mingle with the people, if only to give herself room to breathe. She didn't do well in crowds. Her previous engagements in Misthaven only strengthened these reclusive traits.

However, that morning, Mulan had been visited by Ho Jian, one of the boys from the village, bearing a message from the Chief Yao Peizhi of Guifei. They had requested an audience with her concerning urgent matters. Before Mulan could further interrogate her visitor, the boy had run back to the village, his small braid swinging with the frantic beat of his sandaled feet. Mulan could see now that his actions were not so uncommon.

It was only when Mulan reached the Chief Yao's chamber and was greeted by him that she was finally given an explanation.

"Another Yaoguai?" Mulan asked with a frown.

"Unfortunately, yes," said Chief Yao. The sweltering heat of the summer morning had him perspiring excessively, leading him to dab at his pudgy, pink face every couple of minutes. "There have been multiple sightings of it outside our village."

Which was impossible, given the fact that the last time the Yaoguai disrupted the village it was really a bewitched prince. As far as Mulan was concerned, Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora were happily married and expecting.

As a way of distracting herself from this train of thought, Mulan probed. "What did this beast look like? Did your sources give descriptions?"

"They claim that it is a black creature with glowing blue eyes and big teeth," replied the chief. He dabbed at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief and added, "It hasn't hurt anyone yet, but it's causing quite the stir. Trade simply cannot go on with a beast patrolling the walls and scaring off merchants."

Trade was of utmost importance to Guifei, what with it being near the main artery of the trade route that slithered from the empire to the Enchanted Forest. Without the help of travelling merchants both from the mainland and from Misthaven, Guifei's economy would surely stagnate and collapse. The last time Prince Phillip was here, trade was put on hold for several weeks. The shortage of certain goods was only balanced out by the Yaoguai's penchant for shaving off a good portion of the population. It was a good time for no one except the foreign merchants who were trapped in the village and saw the tragedy as a good time to inflate their prices.

"I'm guessing you want me to investigate?" asked Mulan.

"You slayed the last Yaoguai, did you not?" asked Chief Yao. His thick white eyebrows rose on a heavily wrinkled forehead in bemusement. "I regret to ask for your assistance again, but the situation is proving dire."

"It was not by my hand," Mulan corrected, "but I'll do my best to find this beast."

This seemed to satisfy the Chief Yao who thanked her before giving her the names of the sources so that she could question them herself. More than anything, Mulan wished to get started on this new mission. Since she had parted ways with Red and Dorothy and returned to Guifei, she had made a point of keeping busy with the most mundane of tasks. Guifei was a very profitable village and made enough surplus to provide Mulan with required necessities such as rice, millet, wheat, and even eggs and radish if they were feeling especially generous. This left Mulan to do nothing more than cook, eat, and sleep, with disconcerting gaps of free time in between. She took to whittling wood into various images to pass the time; it was brain-deadening work, something that she felt she needed lest she relapsed into the misery that came with the peace of self-imposed isolation.

This new task would finally give Mulan something new to do. Outside of the Yaoguai issue a few years ago, Guifei was a relatively safe settlement. After all, the presence of a war-rugged soldier made it so.

For most of the day, Mulan started tracking this great black beast. Not surprisingly, it was much harder to find than the original Yaoguai which was several feet tall and often left ashes and open flames in its wake. However, Mulan could at least work on the accounts of the villagers; the Yaoguai made a point of eating or severely maiming his witnesses, so Mulan tackled the previous objective a little more blindly.

With this newest mark, Mulan relied on information given to her: the beast only dwelled at night and it made a point of circling the village border, but never entering. It was only a matter of time, the fearful witnesses said, before it would attack, as most wild predators do.

Mulan promised to find the beast.

Going on their accounts, she found that, indeed, there were several breaks in the natural pattern all around the village. Kicked up pebbles, broken twigs, jagged claw marks on the trees. The most striking clue was the absolute silence. In the thick of Guifei's greenery, one was awash in the sounds of chittering birds, skittering woodland creatures, and mournful shrieks of cicadas. When Mulan explored the forest, she could hear nothing but the whisper of windblown leaves and the scratching of branches overhead. In the far distance, there was the cry of a lone raven, but nothing more. Clearly, this was an apex predator to have scared off most of the wildlife away from their habitats.

When night fell, Mulan stood by the gates of Guifei and waited. She had her sword by her hip and her bow strapped to her back. She wore her chainmail helmet and the black reinforced leather armor, shoulders squared and eyes trained on a point in the distance as she listened for any potential disturbances in the quiet that often befell the night.

She waited for two hours. By this time, the people of Guifei had turned in for the night. This thought made Mulan breathe easy; now, it was just her and the beast.

Mulan was seated now with a block of wood and a dagger in hand. She attempted to carve out a semblance of a bird in flight, though it came out sort of clunky looking. She cut with the grain, just as her father would tell her shortly before she went off to war at the age of fourteen. Regardless of the more effortless glide of knife over wood, her carving did not come out quite like she pictured in her head.

This was when Coursing River reared up on his hind legs and whinnied in agitation. Mulan startled and, within a breath, she was on her feet with her hand tensed on the handle of her half-unsheathed jian sword. Her gaze wandered before it fell on a pair of blue eyes gleaming from among the clusters of trees just a few metres away.

Coursing River snorted and, though he shook violently and shuffled so much that he kicked up dirt, he did not flee. As expected of a war horse.

There was a showdown. Mulan stood stiffly, not even daring to breathe too harshly lest she provoked the beast. Minutes passed before the thing approached on quiet feet. Shards of moonlight suggested a hulking figure with black fur. It was majestic in its beastly appearance.

Mulan took in a deep breath when the animal finally moved into the open. She was struck by the sheer size of it as well as the size of its bared fangs. It was clearly on the defensive. If it decided to attack, Mulan would not stand a chance against it.

Which was why she prayed that her next actions wouldn't get her killed.

"Red?" she said. "Is that you?"

The beast's demeanour very suddenly shifted; it went from snarling at her to closing its mouth and straightening its posture. Its eyes were searching. Mulan stayed still. Finally, the beast hesitantly put a paw forward, as if in suggestion. Mulan nodded slowly and the beast took one step forward. Then another. Mulan watched until it was just a few feet away. It sniffed the ground at Mulan's feet. Mulan knew this to be judgment and she waited patiently for the beast to come up with a verdict. Coursing River whinnied louder, spooked now by the beast's proximity, but Mulan shushed him as she held on to his reins. Surprisingly, the beast barely faltered at Coursing River's antics as it continued to assess Mulan.

Apparently, Mulan passed. The animal shifted into a sitting position and docilely bowed its head. That was when it underwent a change. It was swift and had Mulan blinked she would have missed it, but she watched as the animal went from being a massive, black creature to a beautiful young woman.

Mulan smiled. "You certainly make an entrance."

"Did you expect any less?" asked Red with a radiant smile of her own. Apologetically, she smiled at Coursing River and said, "Sorry for scaring your horse."

"He doesn't mind," said Mulan.

Red rose to her feet and closed the distance between her and Mulan with a hug. Mulan stiffened in Red's hold, but Red pulled away with that same smile. If she noticed Mulan's hesitance, she didn't speak of it. Instead, she fingered the mesh of Mulan's helmet and laughed, "Nice helmet."

"It protects against enemy fire," Mulan huffed. "Every imperial soldier has one."

"Yeah," Red muttered as she moved to remove the helmet, "but then no one gets to see your pretty face."

Mulan's throat constricted at this description and so choked on whatever she was going to say next. She was thus powerless when Red slid off her helmet to observe it with clinical curiosity. It only lasted a moment because she handed it back to Mulan who grabbed it from her without hesitation.

"So. This is Guifei?" said Red as she looked past Mulan.

It took a moment for Mulan to realize that Red was speaking of the settlement behind the gates. She said, "Yes. I'm currently protecting this village from you, as a matter of fact."

At this, Red's pink cheeks darkened to a shade just one off from her cloak. Speaking of which, its absence was quite glaring at the moment.

"Where is your cloak, Red?" asked Mulan.

Sheepishly, Red said, "In the woods. I know I should keep it on, but I was just going on a run. I swear I'll put it back on, if it makes you feel better."

"It would," Mulan said with a raised eyebrow. "It would probably scare the villagers less, too."

"Sorry about that," Red muttered as she ventured back into the copse of trees. Mulan mounted Coursing River and followed. "It's just...my senses are at their peak when I'm the wolf. I figured that I could smell you out in wolf form. I knew you were in the village, but when I got here last night I couldn't quite catch your scent. I circled the village hoping I'd get it, but then I heard people yelling, so I ran off."

"You really gave people here a scare," Mulan chastised, but her heart wasn't in it. She was too distracted by the fact that Red actually sought her out at all.

Mulan was always reclusive and made sure to set herself apart from others. It came with masquerading as a man for twelve years in the army, she supposed, but she knew that, even before that, she much preferred isolation. Such an attitude did not attract many friends.

Princess Aurora was closest to being Mulan's friend, but Mulan had since cut off all communication with her. She made it impossible for Aurora to find her. Not that she would, what with Prince Phillip and her newborn taking up her attention.

Mulan had only known Red for a month or so and yet she came all the way here to find her. It left Mulan with an extraordinary feeling.

"Maybe I like scaring people," Red said with a smirk. At Mulan's disapproving frown, she laughed and added, "Take it easy. It was a joke."

"I suggest working on your sense of humour," Mulan groused.

It took a couple more minutes, but Red finally got her cloak from between a pair of trees with branches that interlocked overhead. While Mulan wouldn't say it out loud, it made her breathe easier to see Red in her trademark cloak again. She motioned for Red to follow suit and said, "Get on. I'll show you where I live."

"You don't live in the village?" Red asked as she easily hopped on and sidled in comfortably behind Mulan.

"No," Mulan replied. She squeezed Coursing River's haunches with her legs and he went at a steady pace through the trees. As an afterthought, Mulan said, "I prefer to live alone."

Red hummed as if she understood, though they both knew she didn't. After all, Red had traversed realms just to find others of her kind. Mulan was more likely to traverse realms to get away from other people.

The hut was a mile away, so it took about ten minutes arrive at the quaint wooden house that stood in a small clearing. This had originally belonged to a general from years ago who sometimes escaped to the countryside to ponder the verses of Xu Wei. After his death, the hut was left to rot until Mulan was given permission to take it when she first arrived to Guifei. She had since refurbished it, but it still held a deathly aura, especially in the night when it was surrounded by dark arcades of trees that blocked almost all moonlight from filtering through.

"So, this is where you live?" Red asked as Mulan tethered Coursing River to a post outside the shed. She opened the door and walked inside.

"Yes," Mulan said as she walked over to the end of the hut in two steps where she bowed down and lit the candles there so that the fire would stave off the night cold and shed light on the small hut. Mulan never much cared to tend to the hut and now that she had a visitor, she was suddenly mindful of the messy cot in the corner, the pile of books cluttered next to it, the squat table that held a stack of papers, a pot of ink, and her many wood carvings. They held an air of malice in the dim, flickering candle light.

"I wasn't expecting visitors," Mulan added with a note of apology. Red, however, didn't seem to mind as she wandered inside. Mulan closed the door behind them.

"It's so...you," Red said as her eyes wandered over to the wood carvings, something that Mulan had silently hoped she wouldn't notice so soon. She bent over and inspected them closer before she said, "I didn't know you carved!"

"As a pastime," Mulan replied as she stood by, paralyzed in her helplessness.

"They're beautiful," Red mumbled as she delicately picked up the one depicting a wolf. "I don't think I ever told you this, but I used to make jewellery."

"Did you?" Mulan asked as she finally moved closer.

"Not here," Red added hastily. Her thumb glided over the snout of the wolf with something akin to reverence. "In the other realm. I stopped after the first curse broke."

"Why is that?" Mulan asked. Red's eyes dulled slightly and her smile faded. Thinking she said the wrong thing, Mulan opened her mouth to tell Red that she didn't have to answer when Red spoke.

"Do you...do you remember when I told you that I ate my only boyfriend?" Red asked. She set down the wolf statuette between the small figurine of a long-haired woman in a shawl and that of a hooded woman painted red. She turned to face Mulan who could only nod dumbly. "Well, the first curse erased all memories of that past. So, when the curse broke and I got those memories back, I had to...relive that trauma. Sort of. I used to make all these wolf trinkets—necklaces, rings, key chains— and I used to see it as this thing I liked doing, but when I remembered where all that came from, I just couldn't continue with it."

"I'm sorry," Mulan said. She could think of nothing else to say to that and, really, what was there to say? Thankfully, this seemed to be enough for Red who cracked a strained smile and shook her head.

"It's fine," Red said though, to Mulan, it didn't sound all that fine. "Anyway, your statues just reminded me of that. Making jewellery, I mean, not eating my ex."

"It's never too late to return to it," Mulan said.

"It wouldn't be the same," Red said with a sad smile. "Trust me."

After this, they tumbled into a thick silence. Mulan quickly busied herself with putting away her weapons as Red continued to scan her environment in quiet consideration. It was a couple of minutes before Mulan broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I'm not the best host," Mulan sighed. "I'm still trying to get used to having a visitor. I haven't had company in over a decade."

"What?" Red all but yelled as her eyes widened comically. "Why?"

"I keep to myself," Mulan said. She cleared her throat and decided to change the topic. "How are you and Dorothy?"

Red seemed to notice the deflection judging by the twitch in her brow, but her expression softened a bit at the mention of her partner.

"We're good," she sighed wistfully as she plopped down on the bench where her cloak was folded. "It's still new to us. We've never really had a true love before."

"It must be nice," Mulan said. She tried to sound encouraging, but to her own ears she sounded bitter. Red gave her a strange look and Mulan busied herself with taking off her armour so that Red wouldn't get the chance to analyze her.

Apparently, Red quickly gave up, because she continued, "I never really understood true love until I met Dorothy. I mean, I saw Snow and Charming together, but you don't know true love until you've experienced it. It really is magic."

Mulan didn't dare reply to that, instead focusing on removing her cape and carelessly tossing it to the ground. More silence until Red added, "Her dog annoys the hell out of me though."

This, Mulan felt safe to respond to with a sympathetic laugh.

"It's like having a kid, only it never grows up," Red said with a small pout.

"We all make sacrifices for the ones we love," Mulan said. The last of her armour was off and she quickly slipped on a pair of trousers before she fumbled to put on a knee-length wool tunic.

"I know," Red replied. When Mulan turned to look at her, she found herself subject to scrutiny as Red openly looked at her. A beat passed, then Red said, "It's all worth it."

Mulan turned away.

"It is," she agreed. She hoped she didn't sound as hollow as she felt.

Dressed in her common clothes, Mulan went out back where she prepared a basic meal of stewed rice with boiled radish over an open fire. When presented with the food, Red balked at it for a split second before she hesitantly thanked Mulan. Only a moment later did she spit the food out and claim that she wasn't that hungry anyway. Mulan couldn't blame her; the food was rather plain and uninspired, but these were foods that she lived on while she was in the emperor's army. Food was a luxury not always easy to come by.

They retired for the night in Mulan's cot. It was crowded, seeing as the cot was really made for one person and not two, but they made do with it. Red was good about sharing the space and seemed comfortable to be in such close proximity with another person in slumber. On the other hand, it took Mulan several hours of tossing and turning to finally fall asleep. It was her bad luck that Red was an early-morning riser and didn't like for anyone to sleep in.

"Where do you wash?" Red asked as she stretched, catlike, in the centre of the hut. Mulan watched her groggily, her eyes slightly unfocused with sleep. The golden sunlight burst through the trees and flooded the hut and everything appeared bright and naked and skinned raw. The statues on the other end of the shed stood stoically among the dancing dust. Red's face glowed. The curves of her body highlighted by slivers of light. Mulan's desires and regrets, laid bare and festering like meat under an open sun.

Mulan clenched her jaw and mumbled something about a lake west of here and for Red to use one of the little balls of soap she had in a jar by the candles. Red was gone after a few minutes of shuffling and Mulan soon returned to sleep.

Mulan eventually woke up to see Red muttering to herself as she untangled her wet hair. She was already dressed in her tunic, vest, and crimson skirt. Her cloak laid on the bench, neatly folded.

"Rise and shine!" Red said gleefully when Mulan rose to her feet. "Sleep well?"

"Despite your snoring keeping me up half the night, I slept wonderfully," Mulan jested. Red scowled and threw one of her gloves at Mulan's face in retaliation.

After Mulan had bathed and put on her armour once more, she told Red that she was to report back to the chief in Guifei about the beast.

"What are you gonna tell him?" asked Red as they rode on Coursing River towards to the village. Despite Mulan telling her to stay behind, she insisted on joining Mulan, if only so that she could see Guifei without looking like an "awkward tourist".

"I'll tell him that I killed the beast," Mulan said. At Red's silence, she added, "It's safest to tell him that. I don't want the villagers to take it upon themselves to slay something that doesn't even exist and get themselves in trouble."

"Yeah," Red sighed. "I'm really sorry, Mulan."

"It's not your fault," Mulan said, though her voice betrayed the mild frustration bubbling in her chest. She was not so frustrated with Red as much as she was inconvenienced by the situation. Whatever the case, she was happy to wrap everything up and return to her hut, only to be bothered again by some other pale-faced courier boy in the next several months.

So, it came as quite the surprise to see several unfamiliar men and horses at the gate entrance to Guifei. It was not uncommon for Guifei to receive its share of merchants and bureaucrats, but these men certainly did not look like the commercial or political type. They wore thick, leather armour and carried broad dao blades on their hips. Eyes behind iron helmets gravitated to Mulan and Red as the two approached.

"What brings you here?" asked one man on horseback.

"I should ask you the same," Mulan said, her tone clipped.

"We are the men of General Zhang Jianhong," he replied as he puffed his chest. "I am An Jie. We heard that a demon was seen here last night."

"It's been slain," Mulan said as she rode on. Over her shoulder, she added, "Be sure to spread the word that the imperial soldier posted here killed it last night."

"What was that about?" asked Red when they were out of earshot.

"Fools with numbers to bolster their confidence," Mulan said with no shortage of resentment. "Most likely bandits trying to pass off as bounty hunters. I shouldn't have let you come out here with me."

"You do remember who I am, right?" Red replied with a tinkle of laughter. "I'm not exactly harmless."

"Neither are they," Mulan relented. "Keep sharp."

When they arrived at the chief's place, Mulan saw that a black horse with white mane was already tethered to the building. When Mulan and Red approached, it whinnied in agitation and shuffled as far away from them as it could. Mulan made sure to stop on the opposite end of the building and tie Coursing River to a nearby post before turning to Red.

"Stay out here," Mulan said. "If anything looks wrong or out of place, I want you to call for me."

"God, you sound like Granny," Red said, though it was more gentle than annoyed. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Mulan nodded curtly before she entered the building with her hand poised over her sword. Inside was the Chief Yao, back erect and expression strained to remain polite. Across from them was a man dressed in thick leather armour. An iron helmet similar to those of the men posted outside sat by his side. He and Chief Yao turned to watch Mulan walk in.

"Pardon my intrusion," Mulan said with a formal bow. "I come bearing news on the beast."

"Do you?" asked Chief Yao as he dabbed at his forehead. He looked especially sweaty this morning, despite the chill in the air. "What a coincidence. This young man came straight here as soon as he heard of the beast. Mulan, this is General Zhang Jianhong. General Zhang, this is General Hua Mulan."

"It is an honour to meet the renowned General Hua," Zhang said as he deeply nodded in acknowledgement. He was indeed young; he looked no older than thirty years old. His long, angular face was pulled into a smile that did not reach his eyes. Mulan took note of the silk that held his hair in a top knot; it was the same material which underlined his black cape. He spoke again, breaking Mulan's train of thought. "Sorry to impose, but I was sent by Commander Song Gen to oversee the area surrounding my garrison. Considering there was talk of another Yaoguai, I came straight here."

Song Gen. Mulan knew that name. She filed that away for later.

"Where is your garrison?" asked Mulan.

"Quixen Prefecture," he replied. "Just a mere twenty miles from this humble village."

"As you are so close by, I'm sure you heard that there was an imperial soldier here?" Mulan continued without a beat. "One that has already slayed a Yaoguai before?"

"Yet another legend to add to your name, yes," General Zhang said with a polite smile. "I have heard it all. I was just passing through to see if you needed any help."

General Hua Mulan narrowed her eyes a touch, but she quickly smoothed her brow.

"I assure you, I have it handled," Mulan said coldly before turning to Chief Yao who was shifting uncomfortably. "The beast is dead. I killed it last night."

"Oh, that is great news," said Chief Yao. "We did not expect any less from you, Mulan!"

"Ah, yes, good news," echoed Zhang, but there was an unnatural pull to his stiff smile. "You slayed it on your own?"

"Yes," Mulan said curtly. "Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you'd brought its fur back," said Zhang. "Most hunters bring back proof of their hunt. I thought, especially concerning such a beast, this situation would be no different."

"I am inclined to believe Mulan," said Chief Yao hastily. He seemed to sense the beginnings of a conflict and was smart enough to want to diffuse it before it boiled over. "She is a veteran of war. If she says that it is dead, then it is dead."

"I suppose that did come off as accusatory," said Zhang. "My apologies."

"Why are you really here, General Zhang?" Mulan asked, to Chief Yao's horror. She hardly cared if she sounded rude anymore because Zhang had this look on his face that grated on all her nerves.

"So direct," General Zhang chastised, though he didn't sound nearly insulted enough. "What makes you think I have ulterior motives? I came here to investigate a potential threat. One that you say you deposed of. This was all an unfortunate misunderstanding."

"No merchant could have travelled twenty miles and gotten the news to you for you to arrive here with just that in mind," Mulan pointed out. "In fact, Chief Yao, is it true that the only travelling merchant to come here was bearing south, not north?"

"The—er—the merchants don't usually tell me such things, but that is what I heard, yes," Chief Yao stumbled, his face growing red as sweat collected on his neck and chest. He aggressively dabbed at the building moisture.

"From what I remember," Mulan went on, "Quixen is up north. Now why are you here?"

General Zhang's smile faltered for the first time since Mulan walked in on his meeting with the chief. He scanned Mulan just as Mulan tried to dissect him and his motives until he said, slowly, "This sort of behaviour is very unladylike."

Mulan did not dignify that with a response. General Zhang continued.

"Commander Song has asked that I protect this village," said General Zhang. "Hence why I brought my men with me. I was going to privately discuss the plans with the chief until you interrupted."

"I'm already posted here," Mulan protested.

"You are one soldier in the face of a brewing threat," said Zhang. He turned to the chief and continued with, "Aside from the beast, there have been bandits running wildly in the woods. Many of my men have gone missing while out on patrol. I would be loath to have innocent villagers be preyed upon by uncivilized thieves."

"That does sound worrisome," mumbled Chief Yao.

"Commander Song is invested in the safety of all those who fall under his jurisdiction," Zhang continued. "As he is in charge of the western half of the mainland, you automatically fall under his protection. I would be more than happy to leave my soldiers in your hands."

"Just like that?" Mulan asked. "Free of charge?"

"Commander Song is wealthy enough and powerful enough to cover such costs," said Zhang, his eyes never leaving the chief. "What do you say?"

"Bandits are very much a problem," said Chief Yao as he brought his handkerchief to his collarbone to pat away the sweat.

"I can handle that alone, as I always have," Mulan said, but she knew the moment the words left her lips that they were hollow of promise. Zhang cast her a sidelong glance with a quirk of his lip before focusing back on the chief.

"I am more than aware of your abilities, Mulan," said Chief Yao. "But I also know that one soldier is never enough. If General Zhang is truly offering his services for free..."

"Completely free," insisted Zhang.

"I think this is the best decision for Guifei," said Chief Yao as he looked over at Mulan with a determined gaze. Mulan opened her mouth to protest, but Zhang beat her to the punch.

"It's good that you see reason," said Zhang as he began to rise. "I will have an outpost established beyond the gate. Don't worry, Chief Yao; your people will be in the most capable of hands. With Mulan working alongside them, I imagine you will be thoroughly protected."

"I would like to think so," Chief Yao muttered. General Zhang nodded firmly before picking up his helmet and bowing to the chief.

"I must take my leave and return to my garrison," said General Zhang as he straightened up. "If any problems arise, don't hesitate to notify me however you can."

"Yes, of course," said Chief Yao. Mulan watched as General Zhang swept out of the chamber and towards his anchored horse. His eyes locked on Mulan's for a brief moment before he mounted his stead and headed off at a steady trot. Mulan could feel Red's stare boring into her, but she was too busy watching Zhang leave.

Unfortunately, he rode too close to Red and his own stead reared its front legs and whinnied so loudly that all activity in the village square was halted in favour of watching Zhang and his belligerent horse. Red, to her credit, barely reacted as Zhang swore and tried to calm his horse. It eventually relaxed its posture, but it shook in distress even as it carried Zhang out of the village square. He cast Red a look that gave Mulan a thrill of childish glee. It was made all the better when Red turned to look at Mulan and shrugged with a close-mouthed smile that spelled innocence. Mulan almost felt proud of her for having such a deceitful front.

After Zhang's departure, the meeting with the chief was short. Mulan tried to convince the chief of General Zhang's ulterior motives, but the chief refused to pursue the issue.

"We need more than one woman to defend us, Mulan," he said. And, though it pained her to hear such a thing, she knew that this did not come from a place of malice, but one of fear and desperation. The Yaoguai had done nothing but kill off men, women, and children. It devoured the chief's wife and he had never quite been the same again since her funeral. Zhang had promised protection and what kind of chief would he be if he denied such a thing?

So, Mulan distanced herself and consented to the new standard. A soldier knew when to fight and when to desist. This was a good example of the latter.

That didn't stop her from complaining to Red about it on their way out the village, however.

"I didn't know one run could cause so much excitement," said Red. She sounded delighted which, really, wasn't much of a surprise to Mulan at all.

"Like I said, this has little to do with you," Mulan said. "General Zhang and his men are up to something. I'm going to keep an eye on them and see if they behave."

"I hope they do," Red said. "Though I still can't help but feel like I'm the cause of all this."

"You aren't," Mulan reassured. She hesitated before, against her better judgment, she took one hand off the reins and reached back for Red's knee and squeezed. It was a strange and awkward gesture, but it was one that came to her naturally. Thankfully, Red took her hand and held it firmly.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Red. "If this Commander Song guy is such a big shot, what would he want with a village? Maybe he really just wants to look after this place."

There was a pensive pause after that. Perhaps Red noticed that Mulan was tense because she began to draw circles in the palm of Mulan's gloved hand and said, "And besides. They have you, right? They're in pretty good hands."

"I suppose," Mulan said, her mind focused on the path being marked on her palm and little else. She sounded terser than she intended, so she added, gently, "I just don't want to see these people hurt."

"Can I ask you something personal?" Red asked.

"Okay." Mulan didn't feel okay about this at all, as a matter of fact, but she didn't want to appear contrary.

"Why are you so invested in Guifei?" Red probed. "You never have anyone over. You don't even live with the people there. You spent years in the Enchanted Forest and only came back after I broke the curse on Dorothy. It just seems odd that you'd want to protect them now all of a sudden."

Mulan's grip tightened on the reins of her horse as she pondered Red's question. To be honest, Mulan really wasn't all that interested in Guifei. She was here for the same reasons she joined the Merry Men and for the same reasons she joined Red on her quest to find other werewolves. For the same reasons why she left it all behind to return to isolation in the forest.

"My father asked that I stay and guard this place," Mulan said instead. "He lived and died in Guifei. I was only fourteen when I had to leave to fight the war. By time I returned, I was...different. While the village had stayed the same."

Mulan avoided talking about how the nightmares woke her up in bouts of cold sweat. How she always, always slept with a knife under her pillow. How she came back to Guifei and could not recognize anyone anymore. How she heard that her father died in his sleep while she was serving.

"Going to Misthaven was a foolish pursuit," Mulan added. She felt Red's hand slip away from hers, but she pressed on. "I was trying to run away from my promise and find what I thought I lacked after the war was over. I know now that it's best if I stay here and fulfill my duty."

"Mulan," Red said, her voice full of reproach. Mulan could practically feel the waves of disapproval against the back of her head. "Without you, Merida would have never become queen of Dun Broch. If you didn't see that I was human while I was a wolf, I would have still been the pet of that evil witch. I would have never found Dorothy. You coming to Misthaven was the best thing that happened for us. I—"

Red stopped herself there and, no matter how much Mulan waited, she would not finish the sentence.

"What?" Mulan asked when she finally ran out of patience.

"Never mind," Red muttered.

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way," Mulan apologized. "I don't regret meeting you or Merida. I don't even regret having a broken heart. It was all a learning experience."

Red was quiet for a few moments. Then, "You never told me who broke your heart."

Mulan laughed, though it was devoid of humour. "No matter how much you ask, I would still prefer not to tell you. I haven't told them, so I won't tell anyone else."

"I'll wear you down eventually," Red said. "Just so I could help you move on. As far as I'm concerned, you're still wallowing in self-pity."

"I do not—do you want to walk back to the shed?" Mulan snapped playfully. Red laughed and Mulan found it to be contagious because she soon joined her. And, just like that, the tension was broken, even as they rode in silence.

That night, Mulan cooked again, but this time Red offered to help with preparing the food. It still came out rather plain, but there were more components to the dish, thanks to some of Red's suggestions. Red did mention that she used to work at a diner and deemed herself a food expert, at least in comparison to Mulan.

Red told her that she would be leaving the next morning.

"Dorothy is probably waiting on me to get back," Red said. Mulan nodded her understanding. Red went on, "It's weird, but it...hurts to be away from her for too long. I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't apologize," Mulan said as she laid a hand atop Red's. She squeezed it lightly, with conviction that she lacked. Mulan looked Red in the eye and said, "You should be with the one you love, Red. Go back to her. I'll be fine."

A smile graced Red's full lips and, though it was small, Mulan saw heaven and earth within it. Despite herself, Mulan smiled back and dropped Red's hand before she quietly returned to her bowl of rice, pan-fried radishes, and boiled egg. It was the best meal she'd had in years.

[yearsblog]

How do you follow up a smash hit album that, in your native country alone, sold over a quarter of a million copies, spent two weeks at Number 1 (and didn’t budge from the Top 40 for over a year), spawned both a Number 1 (which itself sold just shy of a million copies) and a Number 2 single, and earned you four Brit Award nominations? With a bit of time and patience, it seems – or at least that’s how Years & Years have done it. The London-based, British-Australian trio’s second studio album ‘Palo Santo’, the follow up to 2015’s banger-filled, world-beating debut ‘Communion’, which put singer Olly Alexander and multi-instrumentalists Emre Türkmen and Mikey Goldsworthy on the proverbial map, has just been unleashed onto the world and currently boasts a handsome score of 82 on Metacritic, a 14-point increase on their previous offering. They may have, by their own admission, suffered from a little Difficult Second Album Syndrome, but the numbers don’t lie – their patience in crafting this record has absolutely paid off.

In reality, it’s not been an inordinately long wait for Years & Years fans, just three years, almost to the day – shorter than we were made to wait for recent sophomore offerings from Lorde, HAIM, Sam Smith and London Grammar. We meet for our interview on the third anniversary of the release of ‘Communion’,four days after ‘Palo Santo’ dropped, on the afternoon of the London instalment of the brief run of gigs across Europe and North America that are serving as the album’s launch parties. Despite being in the middle of a mad release week, packed with media appearances and album promotion, there’s little sign of fatigue from the band. The mayhem of the day hasn’t yet gotten to Emre, who has the clarity of mind to quickly fix an issue with our Polaroid camera, nor Olly, who is supposedly on vocal rest ahead of the performance, but voluntarily sings lines of ‘Sanctify’ as we snap our pictures. With his hair freshly re-dyed red, he’s in a chipper mood. “We can’t wait to be inside you,” he offers as his message to fans in New Zealand, before rethinking his contribution: “Bit weird.” Similarly cheeky humour comes from the stage late in that night's set: “I’m really wet,” he tells the adoring crowd, adding, “Sign of a good night, if you ask me.” There’s no shortage of banter on this promo circus.

If the magic took a little time to return during their writing and recording sessions in the British countryside last year, you wouldn’t notice from listening to ‘Palo Santo’, a record that manages to capture an unmistakeable Years & Years sound, while also pushing them into new territory. There’s particularly noticeable progress in the lyrics: whereas on ‘Communion’, the tracks often sounded as if Olly was writing them while looking directly into the eyes of their subjects, ignoring all surroundings and speaking purely from the heart, on ‘Palo Santo’, the lens is widened and we’re given more context, as well as a greater sense of space and time, to aid our understanding of each of these relationships and encounters. This advancement is particularly evident on ’Lucky Escape’ (in which a bitter scroll through an ex’s Instagram leads to a disparaging sense of relief at having ended things) and the title track (about the complicated experience of being the third party in an open relationship), each about different, yet fully-realised romantic partners.

This lyrical evolution is also apparent on first single ‘Sanctify’, the tale of a fling with a straight-identifying man, suggesting that a discrepancy in two partners’ confidence in their respective sexualities can lead to an interesting power-play in the bedroom. Despite the erotic thrill of the track, Olly’s writing manages to remain sympathetic to a man who “lately life’s been tearing […] apart." "I know how it can hurt / being cut in two and afraid,” he discloses, with surprising depth and warmth for a song so carnal. He’s a lyricist of great heart, trying to make sense of troubled men who are in turn trying to make sense of themselves, even if the romantic relationship he has with them doesn’t extend beyond the bedroom.

Olly’s background as an actor has gained new relevance with the release of ‘Palo Santo’, which sees him take a lead role in the accompanying short film and reteam with co-stars from his years on stage and screen. Before Years & Years properly got going, it was for supporting roles in films like ‘God Help The Girl’, ‘The Riot Club’ and (as Mikey teasingly reminds Olly during our interview) ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ that Olly became a recognisable face. He even featured opposite Greta Gerwig, the future Oscar-nominated director of ‘Lady Bird’, in the tiny 2011 indie ‘The Dish and The Spoon’, and could often be found on the London stage, turning in a string of critically-praised performances in plays between 2010 and 2013. The final play in which he appeared was John Logan’s ‘Peter & Alice’, which imagined the meeting between the two real life inspirations behind ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and ‘Peter Pan’, played by Dame Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw respectively. In cutaways to the fictional world created by J.M. Barrie, Olly played Peter Pan, fighting for his right to exist despite the wishes of his non-fictional counterpart, Peter Llewelyn Davies, that his life hadn’t been stolen from him by Barrie.

Jump forward five years and these three co-stars are reunited in another fantasy world in which Olly is a different kind of exceptional boy at the mercy of older powers, striving to assert his individuality. Dench is now the cryptic “mother of Palo Santo,” and Whishaw, who also appeared in one of the earliest Years & Years videos, for ‘Real’, makes a fleeting appearance as a hologram, giving an announcement to the city’s inhabitants. The film, shot in Thailand, is wild and ambitious in a way that, away from the output of the Beyoncés and Gagas of the A-list, pop often isn’t anymore. It also gives Olly the chance to sink his teeth into a role beyond just a dialogue-less, short-form music video. His character, also named Olly Alexander, is made to perform repeatedly for audiences, before growing tired and dismayed with being exploited and finding a way to explore his emotions away from the control of others.

Tonight, it’s on another London stage, a couple of miles north of the one they previously shared, that Olly and Dame Judi are reunited. Her voice is woven through the band’s live show at Camden’s Roundhouse, just as it is through the film. The iconic 83-year-old Oscar-winner’s narration has become an integral part of this project, but those hoping for an appearance from the Dame herself tonight are left disappointed, but probably not surprised, at her absence – she remains a formless, floating voice, just as in the world of Palo Santo.

But what does ‘Palo Santo’ actually mean? Despite its placement as the penultimate song on the album, the title track is the record’s centrepiece, a meditative and powerful cut more mature than anything found on their previous LP, on which Olly cries out, “You’re the darkness in me, Palo Santo.” In its most literal sense, the title comes from the name of the thick, wooden incense blocks that the party in the open relationship with whom Olly was involved was burning during their time together. The direct translation is, somewhat amusingly, ‘holy wood’, and their vapours are said to purify the air and cleanse it of evil and darkness.

But such is the expansive universe that the three-piece have built around this two-word term that it now carries several possible interpretations beyond the literal. Alternatively, ‘Palo Santo’ could be a moniker for this man himself, and the short-lived love triangle relationship, which perhaps represents a time of darkness for Olly.

Given the double use of ‘Palo Santo’ as the title of the record and of the futuristic, android world of the accompanying short film, a couple of further, more meta readings avail themselves to us. ‘Palo Santo’ the album could contain the darkness in Olly, with many songs, such as ‘Lucky Escape’, ‘All For You’ and ‘If You’re Over Me’, depicting him at challenging moments following a break-up, as he attempts to power through and come out on top of love rather than be defeated by it.

The world of Palo Santo seen in the film also has a strong connection to a possible darkness within Olly, as it explores the intersection of disconnect and emotionlessness with sensuality and performance. “The divine, amazing and incredible Olly Alexander”, as he is introduced by the Showman character, is one of very few non-androids in Palo Santo, and the androids, as we learn from the Star Wars-esque pre-scroll in Fred Rowson’s film, “desire nothing more than to experience real emotion,” which feels resonant with Olly’s outspoken discussion of his own mental health struggles. When taken alongside songs like ‘Hallelujah’and ‘Rendezvous’, which tell of rather non-committal sexual encounters, we see the same topics in ‘Palo Santo’ that Olly explored last year in his BBC documentary ‘Growing Up Gay’, of how struggles with mental health are sadly pervasive within the queer community.

In the live performance, it’s during ‘Palo Santo’ that Olly, donning a sparkly robe of almost ten metres in length, is raised up on a platform in front of a huge moon, a star ascending across a dark night. It’s a triumphant, almost unbelievable moment of spectacle meeting emotion. There may be “darkness” in this album, but it’s notably never in the form of sadness, and almost entirely hidden in joyous moments of pure pop. In their live show, Years & Years take the chance to show this overcoming of difficulty and adversity through a visual metaphor that literally grows before the audience’s eyes, and it’s an awesome sight to behold.

Despite being a Palo Santo Party, their setlist is equally balanced between their two albums. The newer cuts – such as the snappy ‘Karma’ and thumping ‘Hallelujah’, both just days old to fans – are received ecstatically, and the familiar hits bring some of the night’s most notable moments. Olly is briefly distracted by his front row devotees during ‘Take Shelter’ and stumbles to the end of a verse, before later bringing out an Italian fan who, thanks to the Make A Wish Foundation, gets to sit with him at the piano as he plays ‘Eyes Shut’, leading to one of the night’s biggest cheers. It’s when MNEK returns to the stage for the encore, following his spritely support set, for the debut of a new duet called ‘Valentino’, that the night hits peak gay, much to the fans’ delight. A Latin-flavoured bop telling of an infatuation with a boy “from the outskirts of East LA,” it owes a generous debt to Lady Gaga’s ‘Americano’ (a 2011 album track which opens “I met a girl in East LA…”), as well as the best of 90s girl-band R&B. Fingers crossed we get a studio version ASAP.

Earlier that day, we spoke to Years & Years about developing their songwriting for ‘Palo Santo’, avoiding sadness on a break-up record, when they expect they’ll finally be coming to New Zealand, and much more…

COUP DE MAIN: So it’s three years today since ‘Communion’ came out. EMRE TÜRKMEN: Is it? CDM: It is, happy birthday to it! How has release week been different this time around? OLLY ALEXANDER: It’s similar in the sense that I can’t remember much of it, because we’ve been so all over the place. I guess this time round, you’re… MIKEY GOLDSWORTHY: More of a veteran? OLLY: Yeah, I guess. First time around, I felt like I was hit by a truck. Not in a bad way, not in a negative way, just because it’s so overwhelming. But I think now I feel more grateful that fans have stuck around and that people like the new music. Because you can never take it for granted, can you? What about you guys? EMRE: The first time felt more intense, actually, I seem to remember. Because you know what to expect, in a certain way, it’s less mental. MIKEY: We’re doing similar things. We did [BBC Radio 2 show] Chris Evans last time. We did three countries in one day. CDM: Did you have a big launch show like this one? MIKEY: Not a big one, it was in a little club near Oxford Street. OLLY: We didn’t do anything in America though, did we? I think this time, we tried to do Palo Santo parties, like, East Coast and West Coast America, Berlin and here, so in that sense it’s been way more ambitious. Generally, I think we tried to be a bit more ambitious this time around.

CDM: There seems to be a real progression in your lyrics on this record. They’re more precise and specific than they were on ‘Communion’, and even involve some clever wordplay, particularly on ‘straight’ and ‘mask/masc’ on ‘Sanctify’. Did you approach writing lyrics differently this time around? OLLY: Yeah. Songwriting, especially lyrics – the more you do it, the more you uncover and the more you learn about your own process. The stuff that you write when you’re 20 is going to be different from the stuff you write when you’re 25, which is going to be different from the stuff you write when you’re 27. So I think, by its very nature, it develops and changes. But just as a human being, I feel more confident to write the shit that I actually have in my head. Not that it felt like I was stopping myself before, but I think it made a difference feeling more confident in myself this time around.

THE NEW SONG WE’RE MOST EXCITED TO PLAY LIVE IS…

CDM: I think my favourite song on the album is ‘Karma’, which grapples with whether what you’ve done in the past will lead to good or bad fortune in the future. (“No I can’t tell what’s right or wrong / Is there a consequence for all I’ve done?”) Was there something you were trying to answer about the role that guilt has in your life, and whether it’s worth holding onto? OLLY: I guess there’s some specifics that I relate to my own life. Some of those are to do with relationships, some of those are to do with my childhood, and generally about morality and, like, is karma real? And that song, the beginning of the session, I was writing with my friend Sarah Hudson who’s amazing and she’s very like witchy and into like occults and esoteric stuff, and she did a reading for us at the beginning and one of the cards was called ‘karma’ and we were like,“Oh, yes! Let’s write a song called ‘Karma’.”

CDM: How was the experience of writing with Julia Michaels and Justin Tranter on ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Preacher’? OLLY: Oh, good! It was kind of intense because they’re songwriting royalty. I had the head of our label call me up before the session, because everyone was freaking out. They think if you put people in a room, you’re going to come out with a number one song, and there’s so much pressure on it to be good. So I was quite nervous to meet them, but they’re so warm and so inviting. Julia’s a legend too, but because Justin has had such a trailblazing, queer career and because he’s such a queer force in songwriting and in pop music, I was really humbled to be in his presence. And it was fun, you know, it was nice to work with them because you get to see into another writer’s process. I had no idea if my ideas or the stuff that I’ve been doing as a songwriter was any good, and then when I worked with them, I realised that they do similar things, and I was like,“Okay, this is nice, to be able to do this.” And we got a good song out of it!

MY FAVOURITE SONG WRITTEN BY JULIA MICHAELS AND JUSTIN TRANTER IS…

CDM: ‘Palo Santo’ seems to be very much a post-relationship record, with ‘If You’re Over Me’, ‘All For You’ and ‘Lucky Escape’ – as well as the Kele Okereke song that you featured on last year, Olly, ‘Grounds For Resentment’ – detailing how an ex can continue to occupy space in your mind and life once the relationship is over. It’s kind of lacking in heartbreak, unlike most break-up records we hear. Were there sadder songs you wrote for the record that didn’t make the cut? OLLY: I’m trying to think now. MIKEY: There were slower songs. I don’t know if they were sad. OLLY: We had a lot of songs, and then whittled them down. The ones we put on the album felt like the strongest ones. It wasn’t until I saw them together as a group like that where I realised the theme did feel like looking back on a relationship and trying to sort of dig through the shit that happened and feeling sort of angry and frustrated about that, but in a place of empowerment rather than feeling destroyed by it.

CDM: Olly, you’ve described ‘Lucky Escape’ as a petty song. Do you think that pettiness is a necessary, or helpful, part of the post-break-up experience? OLLY: Kind of! I think that I really, really bite my tongue in arguments with people, and I never say the thing I wish I’d said. But in a song, you have way more time! <laughs> MIKEY: It’s annoying when you have an argument and you go back and you’re like, “Ah, I should’ve said that! I would’ve sounded so smart!”

CDM: Olly, you gave Rihanna the first LP of ‘Palo Santo’ after you appeared with her on The Graham Norton Show. So say she’s scouting for new writers for her next album, and just one song from the record could be your calling card, which one would you want her to listen to and think, “I want him to write for me”? OLLY: I’m trying to imagine myself as Rihanna and think what she would like. Maybe ‘Palo Santo’. I’m just proud of the song and the songwriting on that. It’s quite unusual for a pop song. I guess you can argue, “What the fuck is a pop song?” But maybe that one. I feel like she might vibe with that.

CDM: ‘Palo Santo’ is so ambitious and high-concept, in a way that you don’t see many other British artists attempting or getting away with. It seems to come more naturally to American artists like Janelle Monáe and Halsey. Do you think there’s something about British culture that makes it easy to ridicule or be cynical about these sorts of ideas? OLLY: There’s some truth to that, I expect. MIKEY: David Bowie was British and did a lot of that kind of stuff. EMRE: I mean, I think the first concept album of all time was The Beatles. <laughs> Pink Floyd springs to mind… CDM: I guess I mean more in the present. OLLY: But you’re right, I agree. MIKEY: I know what you mean, Americans seem more confident with not caring what other people think. British people always seem to scrutinise other British people. Australians have inherited a little bit of that culture, as well. Especially in Melbourne. OLLY: Brits can be cynical, but I like that about being British. I guess you could say Americans definitely go for bells and whistles and big statements, and are generally considered more ambitious. CDM: Was there ever a concern about people not getting on board with it? OLLY: Yeah, I was worried all the time. But I realised that I was the best salesperson for the project, so I was telling everyone it was going to be so amazing. I went into the label and gave them a PowerPoint presentation about how everything was going to look and all the videos and the merchandise and the live show. I compensated feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing by being extra, extra, extra confident on the surface. <laughs>

HOW YOU GET TO PALO SANTO…

CDM: You’ve reteamed with your former co-star Judi Dench for the narration on ‘Palo Santo’, which is quite abstract – did she have much of an idea of what it was she was saying? OLLY: Yeah! Well, I said to her that she was the queen of androids. She’s sort of like the mother of Palo Santo, so she’s like this omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent – all three – character within Palo Santo, but she’s also kind of serving a poetic Beyoncé voiceover in ‘Lemonade’. So I told her all of that, and I think she was a bit like, “What the fuck?” But she loved it. She was like, “Are you telling me I’m old? Like an old android?” And I was like, “No!” So she was a bit upset about that. But she killed it!

CDM: Back when you were acting, Olly, you played quite a few innocent or corrupted boys dealing with something traumatic, however your character in ‘Palo Santo’ is more powerful and strong, even though he’s in a subordinate role. How much of an impact did being cast in those sorts of roles have on how you saw yourself, and are you trying to push back against that image of yourself now? OLLY: I mean, you put it in a really good way, actually. When you’re acting, you’re just taking the world that you’re given and you don’t really have much choice in the matter. In that sense, I found it quite creatively stifling, because you’re just doing someone else’s work and you’re playing [roles] other people are putting you into. But even when I look at the music videos we did for ‘Communion’, like ‘King’… I guess by the time we got to ‘Worship’ it had shifted, but in all our music videos, I’m getting thrown around, or beaten up, or in ‘Shine’a building collapses on me. I got more and more dissatisfied with being passive, and I think part of the reason I wanted to make a film of ‘Palo Santo’ was so that I could embody a character I would want to be.

CDM: The film has a pretty ambiguous ending, with your character onstage, unable to sing. Will we get to see more of this world, will it be expanded? OLLY: Yes, it will be. As soon as the label give us more money! <laughs> MIKEY: It’s expensive, Palo Santo.

CDM: When can we expect to FINALLY have you play in New Zealand? Because there was the whole situation in 2016 with the cancelled shows… OLLY: I know… It wasn’t our fault! MIKEY: Wait, what happened with that again? OLLY: It was the Ellie Goulding support slot. [The band had to pull out of the Australia and New Zealand leg of Ellie Goulding’s Delirium tour due to logistical difficulties.] MIKEY: Oh, sorry, yeah! My family bought tickets, so I owe them all, like, a hundred quid. There’s talk of next year. I mean, don’t quote me on this, which you will. <laughs>But there’s talk of Oceania/Asia vibes next year. That would make sense. I can pretty much 100% say we won’t be in New Zealand this year. OLLY: I really hope when we go that we get some actual time to spend there, and not just, like, one day. MIKEY: Yeah, it’s beautiful. One of the best-looking countries.

MY FAVOURITE THING ABOUT EMRE IS…

MY FAVOURITE THING ABOUT MIKEY IS…

MY FAVOURITE THING ABOUT OLLY IS…

‘Palo Santo’ is available now. You can watch the accompanying short film below:

[ollyarchive]

INTERVIEW: YEARS & YEARS ON THE WORLD OF 'PALO SANTO', THE DIFFICULT SECOND ALBUM AND DAME JUDI DENCH.                                          

24th August 2018 by

Rory Horne

How do you follow up a smash hit album that, in your native country alone, sold over a quarter of a million copies, spent two weeks at Number 1 (and didn’t budge from the Top 40 for over a year), spawned both a Number 1 (which itself sold just shy of a million copies) and a Number 2 single, and earned you four Brit Award nominations? With a bit of time and patience, it seems – or at least that’s how Years & Years have done it. The London-based, British-Australian trio’s second studio album ‘Palo Santo’, the follow up to 2015’s banger-filled, world-beating debut ‘Communion’, which put singer Olly Alexander and multi-instrumentalists Emre Türkmen and Mikey Goldsworthy on the proverbial map, has just been unleashed onto the world and currently boasts a handsome score of 82 on Metacritic, a 14-point increase on their previous offering. They may have, by their own admission, suffered from a little Difficult Second Album Syndrome, but the numbers don’t lie – their patience in crafting this record has absolutely paid off.

In reality, it’s not been an inordinately long wait for Years & Years fans, just three years, almost to the day – shorter than we were made to wait for recent sophomore offerings from Lorde, HAIM, Sam Smith and London Grammar. We meet for our interview on the third anniversary of the release of ‘Communion’, four days after ‘Palo Santo’ dropped, on the afternoon of the London instalment of the brief run of gigs across Europe and North America that are serving as the album’s launch parties. Despite being in the middle of a mad release week, packed with media appearances and album promotion, there’s little sign of fatigue from the band. The mayhem of the day hasn’t yet gotten to Emre, who has the clarity of mind to quickly fix an issue with our Polaroid camera, nor Olly, who is supposedly on vocal rest ahead of the performance, but voluntarily sings lines of ‘Sanctify’ as we snap our pictures. With his hair freshly re-dyed red, he’s in a chipper mood. “We can’t wait to be inside you,” he offers as his message to fans in New Zealand, before rethinking his contribution: “Bit weird.” Similarly cheeky humour comes from the stage late in that night's set: “I’m really wet,” he tells the adoring crowd, adding, “Sign of a good night, if you ask me.” There’s no shortage of banter on this promo circus.

If the magic took a little time to return during their writing and recording sessions in the British countryside last year, you wouldn’t notice from listening to ‘Palo Santo’, a record that manages to capture an unmistakeable Years & Years sound, while also pushing them into new territory. There’s particularly noticeable progress in the lyrics: whereas on ‘Communion’, the tracks often sounded as if Olly was writing them while looking directly into the eyes of their subjects, ignoring all surroundings and speaking purely from the heart, on ‘Palo Santo’, the lens is widened and we’re given more context, as well as a greater sense of space and time, to aid our understanding of each of these relationships and encounters. This advancement is particularly evident on 'Lucky Escape' (in which a bitter scroll through an ex’s Instagram leads to a disparaging sense of relief at having ended things) and the title track (about the complicated experience of being the third party in an open relationship), each about different, yet fully-realised romantic partners.

This lyrical evolution is also apparent on first single ‘Sanctify’, the tale of a fling with a straight-identifying man, suggesting that a discrepancy in two partners’ confidence in their respective sexualities can lead to an interesting power-play in the bedroom. Despite the erotic thrill of the track, Olly's writing manages to remain sympathetic to a man who "lately life's been tearing [...] apart." "I know how it can hurt / being cut in two and afraid," he discloses, with surprising depth and warmth for a song so carnal. He's a lyricist of great heart, trying to make sense of troubled men who are in turn trying to make sense of themselves, even if the romantic relationship he has with them doesn't extend beyond the bedroom.

Olly’s background as an actor has gained new relevance with the release of ‘Palo Santo’, which sees him take a lead role in the accompanying short film and reteam with co-stars from his years on stage and screen. Before Years & Years properly got going, it was for supporting roles in films like ‘God Help The Girl’, ‘The Riot Club’ and (as Mikey teasingly reminds Olly during our interview) ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ that Olly became a recognisable face. He even featured opposite Greta Gerwig, the future Oscar-nominated director of ‘Lady Bird’, in the tiny 2011 indie ‘The Dish and The Spoon’, and could often be found on the London stage, turning in a string of critically-praised performances in plays between 2010 and 2013. The final play in which he appeared was John Logan’s ‘Peter & Alice’, which imagined the meeting between the two real life inspirations behind ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and ‘Peter Pan’, played by Dame Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw respectively. In cutaways to the fictional world created by J.M. Barrie, Olly played Peter Pan, fighting for his right to exist despite the wishes of his non-fictional counterpart, Peter Llewelyn Davies, that his life hadn’t been stolen from him by Barrie.

Jump forward five years and these three co-stars are reunited in another fantasy world in which Olly is a different kind of exceptional boy at the mercy of older powers, striving to assert his individuality. Dench is now the cryptic “mother of Palo Santo,” and Whishaw, who also appeared in one of the earliest Years & Years videos, for ‘Real’, makes a fleeting appearance as a hologram, giving an announcement to the city’s inhabitants. The film, shot in Thailand, is wild and ambitious in a way that, away from the output of the Beyoncés and Gagas of the A-list, pop often isn’t anymore. It also gives Olly the chance to sink his teeth into a role beyond just a dialogue-less, short-form music video. His character, also named Olly Alexander, is made to perform repeatedly for audiences, before growing tired and dismayed with being exploited and finding a way to explore his emotions away from the control of others.

Tonight, it’s on another London stage, a couple of miles north of the one they previously shared, that Olly and Dame Judi are reunited. Her voice is woven through the band’s live show at Camden’s Roundhouse, just as it is through the film. The iconic 83-year-old Oscar-winner’s narration has become an integral part of this project, but those hoping for an appearance from the Dame herself tonight are left disappointed, but probably not surprised, at her absence – she remains a formless, floating voice, just as in the world of Palo Santo.

But what does ‘Palo Santo’ actually mean? Despite its placement as the penultimate song on the album, the title track is the record’s centrepiece, a meditative and powerful cut more mature than anything found on their previous LP, on which Olly cries out, “You’re the darkness in me, Palo Santo.” In its most literal sense, the title comes from the name of the thick, wooden incense blocks that the party in the open relationship with whom Olly was involved was burning during their time together. The direct translation is, somewhat amusingly, ‘holy wood’, and their vapours are said to purify the air and cleanse it of evil and darkness.

But such is the expansive universe that the three-piece have built around this two-word term that it now carries several possible interpretations beyond the literal. Alternatively, ‘Palo Santo’ could be a moniker for this man himself, and the short-lived love triangle relationship, which perhaps represents a time of darkness for Olly.

Given the double use of ‘Palo Santo’ as the title of the record and of the futuristic, android world of the accompanying short film, a couple of further, more meta readings avail themselves to us. ‘Palo Santo’ the album could contain the darkness in Olly, with many songs, such as ‘Lucky Escape’, ‘All For You’ and ‘If You’re Over Me’, depicting him at challenging moments following a break-up, as he attempts to power through and come out on top of love rather than be defeated by it.

The world of Palo Santo seen in the film also has a strong connection to a possible darkness within Olly, as it explores the intersection of disconnect and emotionlessness with sensuality and performance. “The divine, amazing and incredible Olly Alexander”, as he is introduced by the Showman character, is one of very few non-androids in Palo Santo, and the androids, as we learn from the Star Wars-esque pre-scroll in Fred Rowson’s film, “desire nothing more than to experience real emotion,” which feels resonant with Olly’s outspoken discussion of his own mental health struggles. When taken alongside songs like ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Rendezvous’, which tell of rather non-committal sexual encounters, we see the same topics in ‘Palo Santo’ that Olly explored last year in his BBC documentary ‘Growing Up Gay’, of how struggles with mental health are sadly pervasive within the queer community.

In the live performance, it’s during ‘Palo Santo’ that Olly, donning a sparkly robe of almost ten metres in length, is raised up on a platform in front of a huge moon, a star ascending across a dark night. It’s a triumphant, almost unbelievable moment of spectacle meeting emotion. There may be “darkness” in this album, but it’s notably never in the form of sadness, and almost entirely hidden in joyous moments of pure pop. In their live show, Years & Years take the chance to show this overcoming of difficulty and adversity through a visual metaphor that literally grows before the audience’s eyes, and it’s an awesome sight to behold.

Despite being a Palo Santo Party, their setlist is equally balanced between their two albums. The newer cuts – such as the snappy ‘Karma’ and thumping ‘Hallelujah’, both just days old to fans – are received ecstatically, and the familiar hits bring some of the night’s most notable moments. Olly is briefly distracted by his front row devotees during ‘Take Shelter’ and stumbles to the end of a verse, before later bringing out an Italian fan who, thanks to the Make A Wish Foundation, gets to sit with him at the piano as he plays ‘Eyes Shut’, leading to one of the night’s biggest cheers. It's when MNEK returns to the stage for the encore, following his spritely support set, for the debut of a new duet called ‘Valentino’, that the night hits peak gay, much to the fans’ delight. A Latin-flavoured bop telling of an infatuation with a boy “from the outskirts of East LA,” it owes a generous debt to Lady Gaga’s ‘Americano’ (a 2011 album track which opens “I met a girl in East LA...”), as well as the best of 90s girl-band R&B. Fingers crossed we get a studio version ASAP.

Earlier that day, we spoke to Years & Years about developing their songwriting for ‘Palo Santo’, avoiding sadness on a break-up record, when they expect they’ll finally be coming to New Zealand, and much more…

COUP DE MAIN: So it’s three years today since ‘Communion’ came out. EMRE TÜRKMEN: Is it? CDM: It is, happy birthday to it! How has release week been different this time around? OLLY ALEXANDER: It’s similar in the sense that I can’t remember much of it, because we’ve been so all over the place. I guess this time round, you’re… MIKEY GOLDSWORTHY:More of a veteran? OLLY: Yeah, I guess. First time around, I felt like I was hit by a truck. Not in a bad way, not in a negative way, just because it’s so overwhelming. But I think now I feel more grateful that fans have stuck around and that people like the new music. Because you can never take it for granted, can you? What about you guys? EMRE: The first time felt more intense, actually, I seem to remember. Because you know what to expect, in a certain way, it’s less mental. MIKEY: We’re doing similar things. We did [BBC Radio 2 show] Chris Evans last time. We did three countries in one day. CDM: Did you have a big launch show like this one? MIKEY: Not a big one, it was in a little club near Oxford Street. OLLY: We didn’t do anything in America though, did we? I think this time, we tried to do Palo Santo parties, like, East Coast and West Coast America, Berlin and here, so in that sense it’s been way more ambitious. Generally, I think we tried to be a bit more ambitious this time around.

CDM: There seems to be a real progression in your lyrics on this record. They’re more precise and specific than they were on ‘Communion’, and even involve some clever wordplay, particularly on ‘straight’ and ‘mask/masc’ on ‘Sanctify’. Did you approach writing lyrics differently this time around? OLLY: Yeah. Songwriting, especially lyrics – the more you do it, the more you uncover and the more you learn about your own process. The stuff that you write when you’re 20 is going to be different from the stuff you write when you’re 25, which is going to be different from the stuff you write when you’re 27. So I think, by its very nature, it develops and changes. But just as a human being, I feel more confident to write the shit that I actually have in my head. Not that it felt like I was stopping myself before, but I think it made a difference feeling more confident in myself this time around.

CDM: I think my favourite song on the album is ‘Karma’, which grapples with whether what you’ve done in the past will lead to good or bad fortune in the future. (“No I can’t tell what’s right or wrong / Is there a consequence for all I’ve done?”) Was there something you were trying to answer about the role that guilt has in your life, and whether it’s worth holding onto? OLLY: I guess there’s some specifics that I relate to my own life. Some of those are to do with relationships, some of those are to do with my childhood, and generally about morality and, like, is karma real? And that song, the beginning of the session, I was writing with my friend Sarah Hudson who’s amazing and she’s very like witchy and into like occults and esoteric stuff, and she did a reading for us at the beginning and one of the cards was called ‘karma’ and we were like, “Oh, yes! Let’s write a song called ‘Karma’.”

CDM: How was the experience of writing with Julia Michaels and Justin Tranter on ‘Hallelujah’ and ‘Preacher’? OLLY: Oh, good! It was kind of intense because they’re songwriting royalty. I had the head of our label call me up before the session, because everyone was freaking out. They think if you put people in a room, you’re going to come out with a number one song, and there’s so much pressure on it to be good. So I was quite nervous to meet them, but they’re so warm and so inviting. Julia’s a legend too, but because Justin has had such a trailblazing, queer career and because he’s such a queer force in songwriting and in pop music, I was really humbled to be in his presence. And it was fun, you know, it was nice to work with them because you get to see into another writer’s process. I had no idea if my ideas or the stuff that I’ve been doing as a songwriter was any good, and then when I worked with them, I realised that they do similar things, and I was like, “Okay, this is nice, to be able to do this.” And we got a good song out of it!

CDM: ‘Palo Santo’ seems to be very much a post-relationship record, with ‘If You’re Over Me’, ‘All For You’ and ‘Lucky Escape’ – as well as the Kele Okereke song that you featured on last year, Olly, ‘Grounds For Resentment’ – detailing how an ex can continue to occupy space in your mind and life once the relationship is over. It’s kind of lacking in heartbreak, unlike most break-up records we hear. Were there sadder songs you wrote for the record that didn’t make the cut? OLLY: I’m trying to think now. MIKEY: There were slower songs. I don’t know if they were sad. OLLY: We had a lot of songs, and then whittled them down. The ones we put on the album felt like the strongest ones. It wasn’t until I saw them together as a group like that where I realised the theme did feel like looking back on a relationship and trying to sort of dig through the shit that happened and feeling sort of angry and frustrated about that, but in a place of empowerment rather than feeling destroyed by it.

CDM: Olly, you’ve described ‘Lucky Escape’ as a petty song. Do you think that pettiness is a necessary, or helpful, part of the post-break-up experience? OLLY: Kind of! I think that I really, really bite my tongue in arguments with people, and I never say the thing I wish I’d said. But in a song, you have way more time! <laughs> MIKEY: It’s annoying when you have an argument and you go back and you’re like, “Ah, I should’ve said that! I would’ve sounded so smart!”

CDM: Olly, you gave Rihanna the first LP of ‘Palo Santo’ after you appeared with her on The Graham Norton Show. So say she’s scouting for new writers for her next album, and just one song from the record could be your calling card, which one would you want her to listen to and think, “I want him to write for me”? OLLY: I’m trying to imagine myself as Rihanna and think what she would like. Maybe ‘Palo Santo’. I’m just proud of the song and the songwriting on that. It’s quite unusual for a pop song. I guess you can argue, "What the fuck is a pop song?" But maybe that one. I feel like she might vibe with that.

CDM: ‘Palo Santo’ is so ambitious and high-concept, in a way that you don’t see many other British artists attempting or getting away with. It seems to come more naturally to American artists like Janelle Monáe and Halsey. Do you think there’s something about British culture that makes it easy to ridicule or be cynical about these sorts of ideas? OLLY: There’s some truth to that, I expect. MIKEY: David Bowie was British and did a lot of that kind of stuff. EMRE: I mean, I think the first concept album of all time was The Beatles. <laughs> Pink Floyd springs to mind… CDM: I guess I mean more in the present. OLLY: But you’re right, I agree. MIKEY: I know what you mean, Americans seem more confident with not caring what other people think. British people always seem to scrutinise other British people. Australians have inherited a little bit of that culture, as well. Especially in Melbourne. OLLY: Brits can be cynical, but I like that about being British. I guess you could say Americans definitely go for bells and whistles and big statements, and are generally considered more ambitious. CDM: Was there ever a concern about people not getting on board with it? OLLY: Yeah, I was worried all the time. But I realised that I was the best salesperson for the project, so I was telling everyone it was going to be so amazing. I went into the label and gave them a PowerPoint presentation about how everything was going to look and all the videos and the merchandise and the live show. I compensated feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing by being extra, extra, extra confident on the surface. <laughs>

CDM: You’ve reteamed with your former co-star Judi Dench for the narration on ‘Palo Santo’, which is quite abstract – did she have much of an idea of what it was she was saying? OLLY: Yeah! Well, I said to her that she was the queen of androids. She’s sort of like the mother of Palo Santo, so she’s like this omniscient, omnipotent and omnipresent – all three – character within Palo Santo, but she’s also kind of serving a poetic Beyoncé voiceover in ‘Lemonade’. So I told her all of that, and I think she was a bit like, “What the fuck?” But she loved it. She was like, “Are you telling me I’m old? Like an old android?” And I was like, “No!” So she was a bit upset about that. But she killed it!

CDM: Back when you were acting, Olly, you played quite a few innocent or corrupted boys dealing with something traumatic, however your character in ‘Palo Santo’ is more powerful and strong, even though he’s in a subordinate role. How much of an impact did being cast in those sorts of roles have on how you saw yourself, and are you trying to push back against that image of yourself now? OLLY: I mean, you put it in a really good way, actually. When you’re acting, you’re just taking the world that you’re given and you don’t really have much choice in the matter. In that sense, I found it quite creatively stifling, because you’re just doing someone else’s work and you’re playing [roles] other people are putting you into. But even when I look at the music videos we did for ‘Communion’, like ‘King’… I guess by the time we got to ‘Worship’ it had shifted, but in all our music videos, I’m getting thrown around, or beaten up, or in ‘Shine’ a building collapses on me. I got more and more dissatisfied with being passive, and I think part of the reason I wanted to make a film of ‘Palo Santo’ was so that I could embody a character I would want to be.

CDM: The film has a pretty ambiguous ending, with your character onstage, unable to sing. Will we get to see more of this world, will it be expanded? OLLY: Yes, it will be. As soon as the label give us more money! <laughs> MIKEY: It’s expensive, Palo Santo.

CDM: When can we expect to FINALLY have you play in New Zealand? Because there was the whole situation in 2016 with the cancelled shows… OLLY: I know… It wasn’t our fault! MIKEY: Wait, what happened with that again? OLLY: It was the Ellie Goulding support slot. [The band had to pull out of the Australia and New Zealand leg of Ellie Goulding’s Delirium tour due to logistical difficulties.] MIKEY: Oh, sorry, yeah! My family bought tickets, so I owe them all, like, a hundred quid. There’s talk of next year. I mean, don’t quote me on this, which you will. <laughs> But there’s talk of Oceania/Asia vibes next year. That would make sense. I can pretty much 100% say we won’t be in New Zealand this year. OLLY: I really hope when we go that we get some actual time to spend there, and not just, like, one day. MIKEY: Yeah, it’s beautiful. One of the best-looking countries.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Would you be willing to write an alpha/omega Coldflash fic- where Barry's an alpha and Len's an omega & for some reason they are overcome by instincts (some external thing causing it, maybe a meta), sleep together, & then deal with the aftermath (i.e. not knowing the others' orientation, not realizing their feelings for each other/thinking it's unrequited, Barry hating the perceived aggression of alphas / Len hating the so called "weakness" of omegas? Btw love your stories! Thanks for everything

It’s a short one, but this is so incredibly belated that I hope you enjoy anyway. This is a fill both for this prompt, and the one that reads: Would you be willing to write an alpha/omega Coldflash fic- where Barry’s an alpha and Len’s an omega & for some reason they are overcome by instincts (some external thing causing it, maybe a meta), sleep together, & then deal with the aftermath (i.e. not knowing the others’ orientation, not realizing their feelings for each other/thinking it’s unrequited, Barry hating the perceived aggression of alphas / Len hating the so called “weakness” of omegas?

For the Coldflashweeks 2018: Prison AU (only very technically)

ao3 link

—————————————

It’s not –

They didn’t –

It wasn’t on purpose.

They’re in prison, of all the stupid things.

Barry got sent up the river, framed for murder, and Iris asked Len to go in and keep an eye on him while they were working on proving his innocence, and Len agreed. It wouldn’t have been a big deal – he practically has his own suite set up there any time he needs a place to crash at Central City’s cheapest hotel – except there was one tiny little miscalculation, which is that apparently the new warden, Wolfe, has a particular hard-on about punishing supervillain inmates who don’t have meta powers because they’re not profit-producing for him.

Nasty guy.

Len’s going to have to murder him one day.

Or possibly put him in Barry’s newest secret prison outlet, whatever; Len doesn’t actually believe Barry when he says there isn’t one anymore.

Either way, they’re both in there.

Quite literally: they’re roommates.

To be fair, they’re mostly roommates because Len had gotten Wolfe’s measure by the time they decided that everyone in the meta wing was going to be grouped together in order to stuff more (usually innocent) metas into little glass cages so that they could be more easily displayed like products put on sale, and so when the announcement came in he turned to Barry and slugged him once in the face, shouting, “I wouldn’t be stuck with you if you were the last fucker alive, Allen!”

Naturally, Wolfe put them together.

Presumably he thought it’d be funny to see them fight.

Of course, after all that effort assigning them out, when it turned out that Len and Barry didn’t fight, Wolfe just got pissed off at Len’s excellent skills at personality reading and manipulation.

Len’d figured that he’d order a few beatings by the guards, maybe some food shortages, something petty like that.

He’d underestimated the guy.

It’d never even occurred to him to worry about the guy replacing his suppressants with sugar pills.

Or rather, given the suddenness by which the heat came on him, replacing them with sugar pills spiked with heat inducers.

Neither of them had been prepared for it, of course. Len’s on record as an omega – thereby technically making it illegal for him to share a room with an alpha, but since when has anyone given a damn about that? – but for someone like Barry, who’s either polite enough not to check or maybe he just sped-read it and forgot about it, well, it never came up as a possibility.

And well, when you’re in heat…

It’s not that Len didn’t already think Barry was cute, you know? He did. Cute as a goddamn button. And he likes a lot about him: his unshakable faith in people, his cheerful optimism, his energy, his (frankly terrible) way of handling depression…

Len didn’t mean to take advantage.

And, more to the point, neither did Barry.

An unregulated heat while being forced into close quarters in one of ye old six-by-eights?

Poor kid never stood a chance.

(Neither did Len, of course, but he’s a goddamn adult and this is far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, so he’s going to deal with the fallout of this like an adult.)

(Unlike some people.)

Now, of course, everything’s ruined.

Barry won’t even look at him.

Goddamn heat.

Maybe it would’ve been better if they’d talked about it immediately afterwards, but they didn’t because Len is a vengeful asshole whose first thought (once his mind cleared enough to think about it) was revenge.

Specifically, making Wolfe realize that going up against Len was a bad idea.

Len wasn’t even fully free of the final stages of heat – and Barry was still cross-eyed with exhaustion – before he was on the phone with his lawyer filing a suit against the CCPD and Wolfe in particular.

Since Len always skips and saves one of his pills every week, an old habit from when he never knew that there would be enough, proving that the pills were tampered with is easy stuff.

They offer to release him early.

He demands that they release Barry early, instead.

(He batted his eyelashes and made out like he was in looooove now, and they agreed in the hope that they could convince him to drop his lawsuit through Barry, which was a dumb idea to begin with and obviously never went anywhere because Barry’s avoiding him like the plague now.)

It took Barry less than a week of being out on parole to prove his innocence.

Once Barry was proven innocent, well, there was no reason for Len to stay, and he was out within a few days. He knows how to pull the strings in Central City’s system.

Wolfe glared death at Len the whole time he was walking out the front door a free man.

Len blew him a kiss.

But for all of Len’s smarts, he somehow hadn’t realized that that wouldn’t be the end of the fallout.

As he said, everything’s ruined. Barry’s staying away from him now.

They barely see each other – usually when there’s work stuff, and by work stuff Len’s explicitly limiting it to saving-Central-City-related stuff, because if he just tries to steal something Barry either won’t show up at all or, if Len gets sneaky and doesn’t use his cold gun, he’ll turn tail and leave the second he sees that Len’s there. Even then, Barry doesn’t look at him, doesn’t talk to him about anything, makes sure they’re not in the same room…

See, if Len just thought that this was Barry reacting to being assaulted, fine. It’s not Len’s fault – Len would never have done it on purpose – but Len can handle it if Barry can’t deal with him right now, or maybe ever. He’s sympathetic to that. He understands that.

But Len has the distinct suspicion that Barry’s staying away for his benefit.

Goddamn fucking omega stereotypes.

Oh, omegas are weak, omegas are clingy, they’re helpless before the big bad aggressive alphas, and once you’ve fucked an omega they start taking it so personally, but oh, no, you can’t actually trust them to know what they’re doing, no, it’s just their hormones, you know the ones, the ones that get formed during the heat, that’s what makes them want you, so you can just ignore anything that comes out of their obviously brainless mouths.

The popular rumor says that it takes three months for the binding hormones of a heat to go away.

Well, Len’s about two months in and he feels fine, and much more like murdering Barry Allen than romancing him.

He just wants to make peace, damnit. He likes being the random quasi-villainous anti-hero wild card, but this whole game is no damn fun without Barry snarking back the way he should be.

But no.

Apparently, the first goddamn second Barry Allen finds out that Leonard Snart is an omega, everything changes.

It can’t be that they were both taken advantage of, oh, no. Barry has to put it all on his shoulders. It’s clearly Barry’s fault that he, the big strong alpha, assaulted Len; he should have done the biologically almost impossible and resisted. Never mind that Len’s twice his age and has twice his willpower and Len couldn’t do shit about it. No, it’s Barry that should be doing penance, and part of that penance is going to be staying away for Len’s own good, because apparently Barry doesn’t trust Len to handle this properly until the appropriate three month period has passed.

Since whoever invented those fucking stereotypes is unavailable, he’s going to take it out on Barry goddamn Allen.

The second he can get his hands on him.

Well, luckily for Len, he’s got himself a cold gun that freezes speedsters in their tracks, a hell of a lot of patience, and a very good friend who is willing to play decoy for him.

Barry buzzes into the room that Mick is tearing up with his heat gun, hands on his hips and saying, “Rory, what in the world has gotten into you? Did something happen to the Legends or -?”

He never finishes the sentence because Len ices his legs.

“- oh,” he squeaks.

“Oh indeed,” Mick says, holstering his heat gun. “Have fun.”

“We can’t have fun!” Barry squawks.

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” Mick informs him on his way out the door.

“It really is,” Len drawls.

Barry averts his eyes. He looks supremely awkward.

He looks –

He looks young.

All the fight goes out of Len all at once.

“Listen, Scarlet,” he says, then corrects himself to, “Barry. If you’re avoiding me because you don’t want to think about it, because it bothers you, just tell me, and I’ll leave you be. Don’t think I don’t know that I was forcing myself on you just as much as the other way around.”

Barry’s head snaps up and he gapes at Len in surprise.

“Everyone reacts to this sorta thing differently,” Len continues. “I thought - I only kept chasing you to try to talk ‘cause I thought you were hung up on that stupid three month rule, which isn’t even true -”

“It isn’t?”

“No! The research behind it’s a goddamn fraud, right up there with the annals of scientific stupidity next to the guy who claimed vaccines were linked with autism.” Len hates that guy, and anyone who follows him. Not only is being anti-vaccines dumb as fuck from both a science and survivalist perspective, Mick’s autistic and Len is holding no truck with anyone who thinks that being dead’s better than being Mick. “The binding hormone isn’t activated without some measure of consent or constant re-affirmance, anyway. You have to be happy and in love for it to actually work - the hormone mix you pump out for happiness is literally a prerequisite for activating the binding hormone - and I’m not in love with you!”

Barry’s blinking at him. “You’re…not? I thought - well - some of our interactions -”

“Flirting isn’t love,” Len says flatly.

“Oh. So you weren’t serious?”

“Oh, I’d date you in a heartbeat, but binding hormones don’t have shit to do with that,” Len says. “So if you want me to buzz off because that’s how you feel, fine. But if it’s because you’re trying to be noble, cut it the fuck out.”

“Wait,” Barry says. “You’d date me? Not just sleep with?”

Len feels his eye twitch. “No shit, you idiot. But putting that aside, the fact that I like you has nothing to do with –”

Barry’s broken out of the ice and disappeared into a whirl of lightning.

Great.

Len sighs and rubs at his face.

The whirl of lightning returns, which Len was not expecting.

Barry’s holding a box of Len’s absolute favorite cookies and stuffed Captain Cold figure (they make those?) and he’s got a bashful smile. “I’m sorry for being a dumbass,” he says. “Please go on a date with me.”

Len would object to the stupid gifts – the fact that he’s an omega doesn’t mean he likes touchy-feely crap – except…

“How’d you know that I like those cookies?” he asks suspiciously.

“I asked Cisco to ask Lisa,” Barry replies promptly. “And Rory told me that you collect Captain Cold memorabilia, thus the doll. He also told me that you’d throw flowers or chocolate in my face, so if I really felt like I had to get you something, to err on the side of stuff you liked.”

Mick’s playing matchmaker on both sides, the sneaky fucker.

And the worst part of it is that it’s going to work, too.

“Fine,” Len says, scowling at Barry. “We can go on a date. But you’re going to stop avoiding me.”

“I promise!”

“And no more running away when I’m pulling a heist.”

“I thought you’d like being able to steal all of those things!”

“It’s no fun without a challenge.”

Barry’s grinning. “You missed me,” he declares.

“What,” Len says. “The stalking and ambush and all that didn’t give it away?”

[likepuppetsonastring]

I Dare You. (A WKM Story.)

(A/N: LONG ASS ONESHOT I’M SORRY I’M STILL OBSESSED.)

Every town has their ghost stories, and their haunted places. Some have huge hotels full of sordid affairs and midnight rondesvous gone wrong, some have old farm houses in the backcountry, steeped in the folklore of the hills and the mists of the early mornings. Los Angeles is no exception. There's no shortage of ghosts and spectres haunting the City of Angels, no want for dark pasts and dangerous deeds in this hotbed of Hollywood fame and infamy. Such a case of infamy is that of Markiplier Manor, the huge, sprawling estate of actor Mark Fischbach in the hills that used to house the most influential people in town, back in the early '10s. No one really knows what went down on October 11th, 2017, and the few days that followed. All we had to go on was a pseudo-reporter's rambling blog on tumblr and a few short articles with fantastically gruesome headlines.

"3 Found Butchered in Markiplier Manor." "Public Despair at the Discovery of Mayor Damien Noir's Mutilated Corpse." "Unstable Colonel Ford Prime Suspect in the Murders of Markiplier Manor."

Everyone had a guess. Everyone had a theory. But no one knew the truth. No one knew exactly why, on the 14th of October in 2017, the butler from the manor had come running into the LAPD Headquarters, screaming about demons and murder. What everyone did know, however, was that when the police, with sirens blaring, went to investigate the butler's claims, they'd been sickened to find three rotting corpses scattered around the manor, in various states of dismemberment and decay. They said that the mayor's body was the worst, looking like it'd been torn limb from limb by animals, almost without a single bone that wasn't broken, his tortured form found on the balcony outside the foyer. Then there was the body of a woman later identified as Fischbach's former wife, Celine, found in a small room upstairs, surrounded by occult items. It was practically perfect in appearance, but when they tried to do an autopsy, they found her insides had been practically liquified. The last body was the most tame, a detective by the ironic name of Abraham Lincoln, shot through the right side and left to die slowly at the top of one of the staircases. It was the worst murder case they'd seen in years. They couldn't get anything sensible out of the butler, who, according to his friends and family, had been a perfectly sensible man before the tragedy. But now he was spouting nonesense about "dens of evil" and "forces far beyond our understanding". They did manage to get the names of the other people present at the poker party out of him, and found everyone but the colonel and another party member whose name was never given to the public, and a statement as to the death of Mark Fischbach on the 11th. Mark's body was never found. Of course, the media had opinions as to what had actually happened.

I mulled over the headlines and the stories again in my head as I pulled onto the long gravel driveway, overgrown with weeds and bramble in the years of disuse. A stupid thing had led me to my dismal destination today: a dare. A simple, ridiculous dare among friends, and the fatal phrase, "You're not chicken, are you?" I was never one to turn down a good dare, and honestly, I'd never been particularly superstitious. The worst thing I feared was the cold of this year's record-breaking October nights, and the animals that had likely taken up residence in the absence of human habitation. Stepping out of my borrowed vehicle and shouldering my duffle bag of provisions, I surveyed the area, and my first thoughts were, I won't be lacking in places to camp out for the night, that's for sure. I trekked up to the rusting gate and chucked my belongings over it, climbing (with much difficulty) after them and landing about as gracefully as they had. Excellent, I thought as I rubbed a bruise on my knee, only another thousand yards to walk before I'm actually inside this place. The front garden was beautiful, even in its wild state. There was something to be said for the mossy stonework and the dry fountains, a kind of dystopian beauty that a city-slicker like me seldom gets to see, that made the walk bearable, and before I knew it, I was at the wide front doors, testing the handle to see if it was locked. Fortune was on my side, or so I believed, and I found it open, so stepped into the once-lavish front hall. The ceilings were high and covered in cobwebs, and nearly every surface was caked with a layer of dust thick enough to be snow, including a shattered mirror whose shards glittered on the table below it. The sight of my own exercise-reddened face in it gave me an unexpected chill, which I chalked up to the weather hastily, and I decided to move on. As I walked, I glanced up the stairs, wondering if these were the ones that'd once seen a detective's final breaths, and the panicked screams of a man running for his life. What had these walls seen, I wondered? If they could talk, what tale of terror would they recount? My eyes wandered into the foyer as I passed, and I was forced to stop and double take. Lines of weather-worn yellow caution tape lay strewn around a body's outline in front of the fireplace. This time, I accepted the chill as my own reaction. There'd been no mention of a fourth body. Was this where Fischbach had met his end? Was this the place where the detective had sussed out the murderer, and decided to confront him, thereby sealing his own fate? I didn't think I wanted to know the answer, and I decided to try to look for a bedroom, as it was getting late. I climbed the stairs by phone-flashlight, careful not to touch the railings as I went. A dark stain on one wall had me frozen on the top step. That was the unmistakable stain of blood, and the discolored wall around it looked almost like an outline of its own. I had a moment of silence for the fallen man, then moved quickly past his old resting place to the hall beyond, and into an open bedroom out of the line of sight of the stairs. Perhaps I'd sleep better if I couldn't see it; I'd underestimated my own detachedness. The room I'd entered looked as if it'd been through hell. There were books and papers all over the floor, the musty bed was in total disarray, and a table in a nook on my left had been overturned, scattering a few broken picture frames to the ground. I dared to look at one of the pictures, and found smiling back at me the same faces that'd smiled out of the articles proclaiming their deaths and disappearances. The mayor, the colonel, the actor, and the ex. Looking away quickly, I decided to set up camp and drown my fears in a few hours of portable game system distraction. My bag thudded dully down beside the bed, and I thudded dully down beside it, rummaging and humming an old happy tune to break the silence. I couldn't help but feel that something was inherantly wrong with this place, but I brushed that aside. I had no use for silly superstition and fanciful interpretations of old stains and pictures. After all, this place had been empty for going on fifty years. The killer was either long gone or long dead; I had nothing to worry about.

It was 2:15am when I squinted at my dying phone's screen, startled out of my uneasy sleep by a loud thud downstairs. "It's an animal," my brain told me lazily. My heart, however, wasn't listening, and was instead trying to leap out of the frosted glass doors to freedom and safety. Sighing, I stood and stretched. It looked like tonight was going to be an exploring night rather than a resting one. I pulled the real flashlight out of my bag, grabbed the extra batteries and stuck them in my pocket, put my phone in there with them, on power-saving mode, and went for a walk, carefully avoiding the small room to my right, and the stairs down the hall. This place was definitely living up to the status of the word "manor": it seemed like an endless maze of halls and bedrooms and bathrooms and studies and media rooms and dining halls. Even the kitchen was enormous, and from its window I could see the vast balcony and the backyard that seemed more like a safari jungle, the green-watered swamp of a pool its oasis and the dilapidated golf-holes its plains of the Sarangheti. I wandered without thinking for the most part, trying to distract myself from the ever-lasting night with searching games. Where were the drinks stored (I didn't go down into the wine cellar), where were the games played (I didn't touch the royal flush still sitting on the poker table)? This worked until I found myself pushing open a door and the beam of my light fell across what I can only describe as a crime show "murder board". Red yarn connected various fading, fragile Polaroids of a bygone age's people, some of whom I recognized from the news, some of whom were strangers to me. Yellowing articles and criminal profiles were thumb tacked to the cork boards that lined the walls. Looking a little closer, I could see that they were not the sensationalizations that I carried in my phone's picture gallery, but various stories of the lives of the victims. An old campaign poster that bore Mayor Noir's reserved, smiling face was connected to an article about one of Mark's movies and its failure in the box office. A front page bearing the title "Safari Hunt Gone Wrong!" sat in front of a copy of the marriage certificate for the Fischbachs. Even the faces of the chef and the butler glared judgmentally back at me, their records sitting beside them as if to ask what my credentials were to enter this dangerous estate. What investigation had led the detective here, then? I frowned at some of the hand-written notes peppering the boards, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. The most I could get was that Fischbach had been in financial trouble, and the mayor had apparently been working with him on...something. The colonel, it seemed, had always been a bit of a wild card, and perhaps had been a very dangerous man; several of the notes seemed to accuse him of the murder of Mark Fischbach. Oddly, none of the other murders were mentioned. Celine Fischbach was notoriously absent. Another thud, close to my room this time, shocked me out of my investigation, and I hid as I recognized the sounds of footsteps. I was technically trespassing, though who owned the land now I didn't know. Perhaps my friends had thought it funny to call the police and send them to pick me up. I decided that they'd pay for that later, but my main concern was staying out of sight. I ducked under the desk and held my breath as the footsteps came into the room. I didn't think about it until much, much later, when I was recounting the tale to my awestruck friends over mediocre school lunches, but from the moment I heard the first steps, a high pitched whine had droned in the background, as if some feedback from a cellphone on a cheap radio were being played constantly.  At the time, I was more focused on not making a noise as what I assumed was a cop wandered around the room, stopping every once and a while, and occasionally pacing on one end of the room, as if he were studying something on that wall. There was one point when the man had stood so near to the desk that I'd been able to see him in profile, but not being able to use my flashlight without giving myself away, I hadn't seen much other than the outline of a man in a suit, with disheveled hair falling in a sweep over the left side of his face, the only side I could see. Oddly, it was as if he were giving off a little light of his own, a red and blue hue defining some of his smaller features, like his stubbley jaw and the creases in the elbow of the otherwise immaculate suit. Perhaps he'd brought something with him to light his way, some weird lamp or flashlight. Maybe it was his phonescreen. Either way, this was a detective, I guessed then, fervently ignoring the sense of wrongness that radiated from him like waves, though why they'd sent him and not a normal beat cop, I didn't know. My heart almost stopped when I was almost certain I heard him speak, a low, gruff voice that seemed to have too many layers, but it was so quietly that I couldn't tell whether it'd been "You've stayed" or "Betrayed." I was certain that I heard, "Never again," though. By this point, keeping myself from shivering was a constant, conscious effort.

"It's quite amusing to me that you think you can hide by simply being out of my sight and 'keeping quiet.'" This time, there was no guesswork. This time, my heart did stop, and I couldn't tell whether I was going to shit myself or scream. But the man didn't seem to care that I was there. He simply seemed to want to acknowledge my presence, as if out of a want not to be rude in ignoring me. "Stay, if you like. Read all of these old lies. Make guesses, everyone else seems to have done so already. Let's see if you can get any closer to the truth of the famous 'Murders at Markiplier Manor'." I could practically hear the cold smile leaving his voice, and it was as if part of it had dropped half an octave, if that makes any sense. "Or you can go now, and forget you ever saw this place. Pretend it's just another mystery tale to tell each other while you waste your time with meaningless relationships." It went back to the pitch it'd been before, and the cold smile was back in it, if backed by a bit of bite this time. "It is, of course, your choice."

He never said another word that I heard, and it seemed to take forever for him to leave, but when he had gone, I stayed hidden for another long minute, until I was sure he had left the house (though I ignored that fact that I never once heard a door open). I stood shakily, flicking  my flashlight on again, and froze. There was only a single set of footprints in the room, and that was the diamond-patterned prints of my own Chucks in the dust on the old wood floor. I don't think I'd ever run faster in my life, or broken more rules of the road, than I did as I got the hell out of that place.

Everyone always asks me what I think I saw. Was it a ghost? Or a demon? Maybe a shade of the mayor, or of the actor? All I can respond is...I don't know. I don't know what I saw, or what spoke to me, or what those words meant, in the long run. And I'm certainly no closer to a positive ID of the murderer than anyone else. But there're certain things I never say, like how I don't think the butler was mad anymore, and how it was almost as if I could hear voices calling as I left, the strange red-and-blue light never completely dissipating until I had scrambled back over the front gate and shakily started my car, not daring to even turn on the headlights until I had made it back off of the estate, just praying and following the gravel path back to the main road by memory and feel. If you want a solid opinion, then here's what I think: I think I never want to know what I encountered, and that I never want to encounter it again. I think I'm going to follow his advice, and let the mystery stay unsolved. 

After all, it makes for a damn good story, doesn't it?

[prolifeproliberty]

The Handmaid’s Tale Actually Isn’t Terrible

I started (binge)watching The Handmaid’s Tale yesterday, and I was prepared to hate it. Everything I had heard and read about the show prepared me for thinly disguised liberal propaganda constantly bashing Christians, Conservatives, and Pro-Lifers. The premise, as I understood it, would be “this is what happens if the Christians/Conservatives/Pro-Lifers get their way.” This came especially from everyone who jumped straight to “Trump is going to make this come true.”

I was wrong, and so are a lot of the liberals who think that The Handmaid’s Tale supports their ideology.

Warning

If you haven’t watched the show, my warning to you is that rape is a constant theme in the show, and you will see multiple rapes per episode. Generally they are not physically violent, more on the side of coerced compliance. As such, these scenes are fairly “quiet,” which I think makes it all the more disturbing. Do not watch the show if that is something that will cause you significant emotional distress.

The Premise

The Republic of Gilead, a terrorist group of “Christian” fundamentalists, has taken over much of the United States. Other nations regard them much the way we regard North Korea. They are vaguely aware of the human rights injustices in Gilead, and have mostly responded with trade embargoes and other sanctions.

In the world where this takes place, infertility is a global crisis. Most women can’t get pregnant, and those who do often miscarry or give birth to babies who die soon after delivery. Gilead’s solution to this problem is to enslave those women who can have healthy babies and force them to act as surrogates for “the faithful,” aka the leaders. In a twisted misinterpretation of the Biblical story of Rachel asking Jacob to father children via her maid, these women are raped by the men they are assigned to while laying in the lap of the man’s wife. I honestly cannot overstate how disturbing these scenes are. Ugh.

But it’s not just the Handmaids who are enslaved. Virtually all citizens of Gilead have lost all of their civil and human rights, including the “elite” who appear to be living “the good life.” The government is socialist, in that it controls all means of production and distributes goods to the people through ration cards. There are shortages of many items, such that the characters get excited when the grocery store is carrying oranges. However, it is apparent that higher-up leaders can get things that lower-ranking party members might be denied. Jobs and marriages are also distributed by the government.

Everyone is under near-constant surveillance through a network of state spies and neighbors who will report you for fear of being “complicit.” Interrogations are conducted using cattle prods, and guilty verdicts are reached by a judge asking the accuser to swear he’s telling the truth and then saying the equivalent of “well, okay, if you say so.” Death sentences are handed down and carried out almost instantaneously. 

Religion

An emphasis is placed on the religious aspect of Gilead society. As mentioned before, the Handmaid system is based on Rachel asking Jacob to father children through her maid. The characters have call-and-response greetings and phrases that come from Scripture or general Christian language. It can be very tempting to consider Gilead “Christians Gone Wild.”

However, there is something very interesting that disrupts this interpretation that I noticed in the very first episode. There are no clergy. Anywhere. No pastors, no priests except one who has been executed for his crimes, presumably speaking against the state. We see a church being demolished, and two Handmaids talk about churches they knew from “before” that have been destroyed.

What this tells us is that no Christian church got on board with Gilead. No churches, no clergy, nobody. This is a case of a relatively small group of absolute nut jobs managing to take over the government and control the masses through fear and brainwashing.

The show also makes it clear over and over again that all of the Scripture used by Gilead to justify their actions is taken completely out of any context whatsoever. The Rachel, Jacob, and Bilah story used to justify the Handmaid system is a prime example. The people of Gilead treat this story like a direct command from God to rape women so you can have children. It is so incredibly not that. Really, the whole story, in context, is a warning about why polygamy is a terrible idea. God never condones Rachel’s solution to her infertility, and in other places He explicitly condemns similar situations, such as when Sarah tells Abraham to sleep with Hagar.

Most importantly, the characters in The Handmaid’s Tale leave out of the story the part where Jacob gets mad at Rachel for even suggesting the idea, and she has to talk him into it. His first reaction to her suggestion is the right one: “Jacob's anger was kindled against Rachel, and he said, ‘Am I in the place of God, who has withheld from you the fruit of the womb?’“ (Gen 30:2). The end of Genesis 29 tells us that God made Rachel barren and made Jacob’s other wife, Leah, fertile to protect her. Jacob loved Rachel and hated Leah, so God let Leah have children so Jacob would have to treat her better. When Rachel proposes having Jacob impregnate her servant, she is trying to circumvent God’s will.

We also see instances where only part of a verse is quoted, such as “Blessed are the meek,” which is used to tell the Handmaids to “know their place.” Offred, the main character, finishes the verse in her head: “for they will inherit the earth.” The Handmaids are reminded to “remember their Scripture,” which seems to refer to selected fragments of verses used to control them, as they are not allowed to read the Bible (or anything else) themselves. In fact, the only Bible I’ve seen in the show so far is kept in a locked box by the Commander, only taken out for the “ceremony” (the monthly ritual rape intended to impregnate Offred). At this point, only the verses about Rachel, Jacob, and Bilah are read, and then not the complete passage. The Commander reads Genesis 30: 1, 3-5 (King James Version), skipping verse 2 that talks about Jacob being angry because Rachel was trying to circumvent God’s will.

Civil Liberties

I think the big warning for us is not about “religion run wild.” It’s about our civil liberties and the dangers of socialism. In fact, I think The Handmaid’s Tale makes an excellent case for Libertarianism. We see this in how the Republic of Gilead manages to take over the country and strip the people of their rights. They do this through coordinated terrorist attacks which destroy all three branches of government (they bomb Congress, the White House, and the Supreme Court and basically kill everyone) and convince the people to give up their rights and submit to martial law.

Once this is achieved, Gilead leaders take control of the banks and essentially all industry very quickly and in a very strategic way. They ban women from having jobs or owning property all at once, freezing every woman’s bank account and credit card before the people realize what’s happening. They start shooting protesters and anyone who opposes them, shutting down resistance before it can get organized.

Offred remarks in the show on how she didn’t see this coming because she wasn’t paying attention. She had her own life and her own problems, and she didn’t speak up or take action when her rights were taken away. In fact, it is made clear that most people didn’t realize what was going on until it was way too late. In this story, the complacency of Americans with tyranny and their disregard for their own rights was America’s downfall.

Gilead happened not because of religion or Conservative ideology. It happened because people were willing to give up their liberty for a promise of temporary safety. They ended up with neither.

[c-is-for-circinate]

Okay fine because at least one part of this is absolutely going to be contradicted next time I play so I am getting it out now:

Way #1/? that Persona 5 is not going to end (or even go in the middle)

(this will probably be a continuing series)

So you’re pausing for breath, to pull your head back together--one of those cops may or may not have given you a concussion, and in any case you’re still a little woozy from whatever drug they gave you, so flashbacking is easy but you’re not used to monologuing for so long anyway--and you hear loud voices in the hall.

You don’t particularly recognize these voices, is the thing--but a firm, authoritative woman’s voice is saying, “We have jurisdiction over this case” in a tone that isn’t arguing so much as bypassing a whole argument and proclaiming law.

“I think you’ll find,” says a slightly more muffled voice, cool and level, not quite distinguishable as male or female through the door.  Sae frowns, looking worried.

“You’re not finished,” she says.  “Keep talking.”

The door opens before you can start again, though, the furious-looking cop standing there with two people you’ve never seen before.  You’d remember these two.

“Nijima-san,” says the taller one, the woman with the elegant coat and the blazingly red hair.  “I’m afraid this is no longer your case.  We’ll take it from here.”

“Like hell you will,” Sae says, standing up angrily.  (She has complicated feelings about you.  You have complicated feelings about her, for that matter--but you respect her, and you can use her emotions to draw this out and keep stalling for time, and it all supports the mission, so there’s no point in trying to pull it apart now.)  “Who are you?”

“This incident, like several related incidents that precede it, fall under the jurisdiction of the Shadow Operatives,” says the--man?  woman?  in the perfectly-tailored blue suit.  “However, Kirijo-san, by your leave, I would suggest we allow Nijima-san to stay.  She may have insights into this situation.”

“Very well,” Kirijo-san says.  “The rest of you may leave us.”  It’s the most casually imperious thing you’ve ever seen.  Her mind palace would be tremendous.  You’re already itching to rob it.

The cops splutter, but they go, mostly because these two don’t leave them much choice.  There are no extra chairs for them..  They stand.

“My name is Kirijo Mitsuru,” says the redhead.  “I’m the director of a special extragovernmental organization known as the Shadow Operatives.  We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Shirogane Naoto,” says the other calmly.  “A detective who liases occasionally with the Shadow Operatives.  I have a particular interest in this case.”

You could say at least two different things here, or nothing at all, but you go with, “Where would you like me to begin?”  This wasn’t part of the plan, but maybe you can eke more time out of these two instead of being entirely fucked.  No plan survives encounter with reality perfectly.  This is workable.

“You misunderstand,” Shirogane says.  “There’s no need to restart your story at the beginning.  I’m sure you’ve caught Nijima-san nearly up by now.  We’ve been keeping abreast of the situation by other means, though I must admit, you were able to evade even me for a considerable period of time.”

“Other means?” Sae echoes.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“An operative in your own house, to start with,” says Kirijo--but unlike Sae and the police, she isn’t talking to you.  “You have a young intern in your confidence with particularly keen insights and a fondness for tamagoyaki, yes?”

“Amada?” Sae looks startled.  “Him?  But he...”

“He has a particularly interesting history with us,” Kirijo says.  “Since he was far younger than our phantom thief here.  But that’s hardly the point at this juncture.”

“Tell me,” Shirogane says.  “Do you know much about playing cards?”

You blink.  You’ve been leaving calling cards at every victim--you call yourself Joker.  What kind of answer is she--is he--are they looking for here?

“The history of playing cards, to be precise,” Shirogane continues.  “Originally they were based on a tarot deck.  The tarot deck, of course, is split into both major and minor arcana, and as the cards made the transition from fortune-telling devices to mere playthings, most of the major arcana was lost, leaving only the four suits.  Were you aware?”

You were.  You nod, quiet, silently suspicious, and say nothing.

“The one exception to that is the major arcana card numbered 0, the Fool,” Shirogane says with that perfect implacable calm.  “It transitioned to our modern card deck in much the same way as the four suits of the minor arcana did, with some minor alterations, under the guise of the Joker.”

Kirijo says, “How is Igor?”

That’s enough to actually startle you.  “You know Igor?” you ask.  You’re not supposed to be startle-able, but--they know Igor?

“I see you were right,” Kirijo murmurs, an aside to her companion.  Shirogane simply nods.

“Better to say that we have mutual acquaintances,” they say.  “Please, pass on our regards to Elizabeth-san and Margaret-san next time you see him.”

You don’t know any Elizabeth or Margaret.  You say so, and Shirogane simply smiles calmly.  “He’ll be able to carry the message,” they say.

“I don’t understand--” Sae starts, and she’s annoyed by it.  She’s heard so much of your story so far, but she doesn’t quite believe it, not yet.  This is out of her depth.

“How many personas do you have at this time?” Kirijo asks.  How much do they know?

“One,” you say, to test them.  It’s both absolutely true and a complete misdirection.  You can only wear one mask at a time, after all--never mind that there are eleven more sitting in your head to be put on, and god knows how many kept in Igor’s prison waiting for you.

“And how many do you have access to?” Shirogane asks, unruffled.  They’re good, whoever they are.

“I’ve lost count,” you answer honestly.  Whoever you are any more.

“We’re not here to pour over the details of your crimes,” Kirijo says.  “My question is this.  What threat is Igor preparing you for?”

You were nearly at that part of the story with Sae anyway.  Your eyes flicker to the security camera, just the barest of an instant, before you can stop them--they must have access by now.  Your hacker is very, very good.  You trust your team.  They’ll be able to adapt to this.

Shirogane sees you do it, even though it’s less than half a second.  They’re very, very good too.

This is going to play out one way or another, and there’s nothing to lose by telling them now.  So you tell them.

“I see,” Kirijo says at the end.  “Well, it’s obvious at least why you were called.”

The very interesting thing is what she means by that.  She doesn’t mean you, particularly, or your rebellious heart--she means why you, instead of somebody else she already has in mind.

“The spirit of rebellion,” Shirogane echoes.  “Not quite the same thing as strength of will.”

“We have no shortage of will,” Kirijo says.  “But we are rather ingrained within the system ourselves.”

“I suspect that the malleability of teenagers is an important part of the reason they tend to be called,” Shirogane says.  “This is quite a different situation than those we’ve faced before--though at its heart, still similar.”

“Very well,” Kirijo says.  “You have our support.”

It’s so far from anything you expected to hear that you can only blink at her in shock.  She’s an Empress, you’ve known that from the moment she walked in the door--but you’ve already got an Empress, and you weren’t trying to recruit her.  This is...something new.

“Your support?” Sae demands.  She’s still shaken.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t misunderstand our intentions here,” Kirijo says.  “Persona-users are not automatically on the side of right.  We have both known cruel and murderous persona-users in our time, and I’m sure there will continue to be more.”

"You are not one of them,” Shirogane says, looking directly at you.  “You have a task to do.”

“Do you think I’m harmless?” you ask.  Kirijo smirks, and Shirogane actually laughs.

“Far from it,” Shirogane says.

“I’ve known a handful of Wild Cards over the years,” Kirijo says.  “Most can wield no more than five or six personas.  A dozen at best.  I’ve known three men, and only known of three men, in all the years I’ve been facing Shadows, who naturally had the ability to do more than that.  One of them will fulfill his duty in protecting the fate of mankind at the edge of the universe until the very day our species is lost forever.  One of them is a small town middle-school teacher who has held enough power in his right hand to remake the entire world.”

“And one is in this room,” Kirijo says.  “I can’t speak to your fate, Joker, but I know your power.”

“Kirijo-san,” Shirogane says politely.  “If we wish to intercept his escape plan--”

“Escape plan?” Sae demands.

“Of course,” Kirijo says.  “Yamagishi?”

You don’t know anybody by that name.  She’s not addressing you, anyway.  She isn’t wearing an earpiece that you can see, but--it might not matter.

“Shirogane,” Kirijo prompts after a moment.  The detective reaches into a pocket and tosses something down on the table, within reach of your bound hands.

It’s a cell phone.  It’s not one you recognize, but--it’s a cell phone.

“I--”  You look at them in confusion.  What do they want from you?

“You use an app, correct?” Shirogane asks.  “Install it on that, and we’ll accompany you out.”

“Wait, you can’t--” Sae protests.

“Nijima-san, you misunderstand us,” says Kirijo.  “We have no interest in his apparent crimes.  We are here to ensure the fate of the world.”

“I can’t just...”  It’s not like the Metaverse Navigator is in the app store.  It’s not like you trust these two at all.

“You can contact your support, yes?” Kirijo says.  “You do have a hacker on your team.  I suggest you try.”

Slowly, waiting for the trap to spring, you pick up the phone and pull up the chat program.  You have certain contact details memorized.  There’s no telling when you might need to use a swiftly-pickpocketed spare phone.

Still though--these two?  In the metaverse?  They’re strong, yes, but they as much as admitted that they don’t rebel against the system, they create it.  Who knows what they could unleash?

“I think you’ll find that we keep up more than well enough,” Kirijo says.  “We may not be revolutionaries, but we’ve both told primordial deities bent on ruling mankind our precise opinions of them to their faces.  I don’t expect our the power of our will to be a problem.”

“If one can stand against the will of the mother goddess of all Japan,” Shirogane says, and behind stand against you hear tell her to go fuck herself, with that ear you’ve developed for quiet rebellion hidden under propriety, “I don’t expect a human mind palace to be a problem.”

“And if you can’t stand against a will that great,” Kirijo says, and this time she does mean you, specifically you, “we are all in a great deal of trouble.”

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The best Side of nailart

Certainly one of the best strategies to punch up a glance is through the material you Screen. Swap out toss pillows and blankets to brighten up a boring home decor foundation, and look for appropriate listed here on Houzz for Daring or mismatched designs, comfortable throws and cushy pillows. The shorter hair on top is then combined with a fade on the sides, and styled using a matte pomade or wax. From styling inspiration to hair developments to expert strategies and tricks, we are going to explain to you ways to master any fashion you drive or want To find out more about. Nail biting is among the toughest behaviors to interrupt. No matter if you desire a lengthy canvas for awesome art — or else you’re just Ill of the troublesome impu ‘tis the time for sophisticated metallic nail art! celebrate the vacations in design with this particular striped and swirled nail art layout that’s great for winter. In reality, platinum blonde, white, and gray hair is apparently Tremendous stylish with the correct hairstyle and look. No matter what your organic hair colour or texture, deciding on the best new colour for you might create a total various glimpse and enhance your haircut. • Pair functionality with fashion. Look for household furniture that’s attractive although delivering hidden storage. Decorative storage boxes are a good contact on shelves or less than benches. A common taper Reduce consists of thick hair on prime progressively reducing in duration on the perimeters and also the back again of The top. Should you’ve ever combed a tapered hairstyle, you know the necessity of maintaining it managed with a product and common shampoos – otherwise your tapered masterpiece will speedily go wild. That is Among the most asked for hairstyles for men as a result of its flexibility. find the silver lining in a very multifaceted metallic nail art style of chic white topped with pretty silver stripes. Boys youthful and old seem wonderful with this particular flawlessly sculpted hairstyle. The trick would be to bring equivalent aim to the highest of The top and facial hair. Increase some styling merchandise to spike the highest hair forward. If click here by mother nature with thick hair, you tend to be the envy of a lot of women worldwide. https://beautyholo.com haven't experienced to manage The difficulty of limp hair or The shortage of volume in hairstyles. Being clean up and groomed, thick locks are classified as the normal jewel that doesn’t want any innovative rim when it comes to extravagant hairstyles. The next hairstyles are Similarly good for straight or curly hair. They are easy to style and preserve, and we Actually believe it’s hard to find nearly anything greater with regards to on-craze limited hairstyles. [click to carry on…] The French manicure has made An important comeback this fall. In the final month, we’ve spied white curved recommendations on the fingernails of superstars like Bell Having a thoroughly clean makeup sponge, dab the lightest colour on to your nails in exactly the same fashion, starting from the tip and fading downward towards The bottom of the nails. The resulting seem needs to be vivid-tipped nails that fade downward towards the darkest foundation coat coloration.

Everything about home decor

Generate peach or pink triangles with a white foundation and line it using a inexperienced to make a watermelon style and design search. Make use of a dotting Instrument or possibly a toothpick to develop the seeds. You could potentially both try this on your nails or only one finger or two. This flower artwork on nails is for individuals who like their liberty and do not like anything at all holding them again. You could potentially both use equipment or stickers to make this type of design and style. Make issues less complicated on oneself (along with your hair!) by spritzing on a leave-in conditioner to keep the hair from drying out while in this protecting model. https://brightside.me/inspiration-girls-stuff/12-cute-hairstyle-ideas-for-medium-length-hair-217055/ opts for the next just one. A bit of light keep styling item with matt complete to tousle the best hair and define the texture plus your interesting, trendy hairstyle is prepared. Short dreads are really popular with black Males, Primarily those who have rounder faces. The dreads provide facial functions upward, deterring eyes from comprehensive cheeks and mitigating other discouraging flaws. Concurrently this distinct Slice is universally flattering and can even function for boys who've lots of hair and wish a Daring 50 percent shaved glimpse. Now this is one of the preferred boys haircuts. To forestall frizz, make an effort to Permit your hair fully dry prior to dashing out the door (Professional idea: set on your makeup, brush your enamel, and obtain dressed while you’re looking ahead to it to set). Dip a make-up sponge in acetone and use it to evenly rub absent and skinny out the white polish. Quit when plenty of on the blue layer demonstrates through to develop an acid-washed appear. Hold hair smooth and gentle without the need of using a ton of products. This may be obtained by incorporating numerous lengths into your fashion. Preserve just one side lengthy and check out a tapered Reduce on the opposite facet. The minimal fade (exactly where the haircut gets brief reduced on The top) is a wonderful choice for Males who aren’t used to fade haircuts but need to experiment While using the trend. Coupled with messy texture on leading, the minimal fade provides a good edge to your Reduce devoid of being as well in-your-confront. No matter if you are purchasing exciting or you do have a certain function in mind that you'll want to costume for, Walmart's Women's outfits area has exactly what you may need. Which has a generous choice of wardrobe staples and entertaining accent items to don for formal, informal, Experienced or athletic instances, you will discover the appropriate products at Each day Lower Price ranges. While this armed forces-fashion glance is extremely short, it also can perform for curly hair, which provides a totally exceptional really feel to an or else rigid Lower. If you associate tight, modern updos along with your senior Promenade, I'm appropriate there along with you. But, Lady Gaga's twisted braids and Issa Rae's chignon have certain me in any other case. The following time you end up invited to a proper function (or just desire to feel fancy), Why don't you revisit the type? Encouraging all of us to give up about the mid-length develop out and go for a bob in its place, Alison Brie's tousled bob can be a beaut.