#just heard was seemed like a snippet of a conversation where ALL i could interpret was ‘committing suicide’ THIS SUCKS

[buck-yyyy]

“slay the day away,” i say, knowing damn well that i am not, in fact, slaying the day away

[bamf-jaskier]

What the fuck is up with Triss and Geralt (in the books)

Hello! and in today’s wtf post, here is a summary of the relationship (or lack thereof, sorry Triss) of her and Geralt’s relationship in the books. 

TLDR: At the end of the day, Triss and Geralt have a clearly described mutual attraction to each other through all the books. However, Geralt’s attraction to Triss does not compare to his love for Yennefer and as such, despite Triss and Geralt sleeping together once, they set boundaries and relegate each other to friends. Geralt never fully stops being slightly drawn to and sympathetic towards Triss and Triss never fully falls out of love with Geralt. 

CW for minority graphic depictions of violence (standard for the books)

More under the cut:

So, let’s start out with their backstory. Here’s a snippet describing their hook-up from Blood of Elves. 

Then Geralt of Rivia appeared. A witcher leading a stormy life, and tied to her good friend Yennefer in a strange, turbulent and almost violent relationship.

Triss had watched them both and was jealous even though it seemed there was little to be jealous of. Their relationship quite obviously made them both unhappy, had led straight to destruction, pain and yet, against all logic… it had lasted. Triss couldn’t understand it. And it had fascinated her. It had fascinated her to such an extent that she had seduced the witcher – with the help of a little magic. 

She had hit on a propitious moment, a moment when he and Yennefer had scratched at each other’s eyes yet again and had abruptly parted. Geralt had needed warmth, and had wanted to forget.

No, Triss had not desired to take him away from Yennefer. As a matter of fact, her friend was more important to her than he was. But her brief relationship with the witcher had not disappointed. She had found what she was looking for – emotions in the form of guilt, anxiety and pain. His pain. 

She had experienced his emotions, it had excited her and, when they parted, she had been unable to forget it. And she had only recently understood what pain is. The moment when she had overwhelmingly wanted to be with him again. For a short while – just for a moment – to be with him.

So Geralt and Triss had sex once, and it is important to note that while CDPR took the interpretation that this meant Triss had assaulted Geralt and used that in their games, this is not explicitly said in canon. The single line “she had seduced the witcher – with the help of a little magic.” is also likely to be referring to how mages use transformation magic in order to alter their appearance to be more beautiful. This is mentioned by Fringilla in Baptism of Fire: 

She herself had regularly ridiculed the crude image painted by gossip and propaganda of the typical sorceress from the North: artificially beautiful, arrogant, vain and spoiled to the limits of perversion, and often beyond them.

Even then, Geralt has a pattern (similar to Yennefer as well with Istredd) of sleeping with other people such as Fringilla herself in Lady of the Lake when him and Yennefer are on a break. So it’s important to note for their relationship in the books, that there is nothing in the text that says that Triss assaulted Geralt and that is simply another literary interpretation of the relationship and not directly canon. 

Sometime after their hook-up Triss is presumed dead at the Battle of Sodden but goes to Kaer Morhen in order to teach Ciri magic. Here is Geralt and Triss’s reunion in Blood of Elves. 

“I’ll take your horse,” offered Geralt, reaching for the reins. Triss surreptitiously shifted her hand and their palms joined. So did their eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” she said naturally. “There are a few little things in the saddle-bags which I’ll need.”

“You gave me a very disagreeable experience not so long ago,” he muttered as soon as they had entered the stable. “I studied your impressive tombstone with my own eyes. The obelisk in memory of your heroic death at the battle of Sodden. The news that it was a mistake only reached me recently. I can’t understand how anyone could mistake anyone else for you, Triss.”

“It’s a long story,” she answered. “I’ll tell you some time. And please forgive me for the disagreeable moment.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve not had many reasons to be happy of late and the feelings I experienced on hearing that you lived cannot compare to any other. Except perhaps what I feel now when I look at you.”

Triss felt something explode inside her. Her fear of meeting the white-haired witcher, which had accompanied her throughout her journey, had struggled within her with her hope of having such a meeting. Followed by the sight of that tired, jaded face, those sick eyes which saw everything, cold and calculating, which were unnaturally calm but yet so infused with emotion…

She threw her arms around his neck, instantly, without thinking. She caught hold of his hand, abruptly placed it on the nape of her neck, under her hair. A tingling ran down her back, penetrated her with such rapture she almost cried out. In order to muffle and restrain the cry her lips found his lips and stuck to them. She trembled, pressing hard against him, her excitement building and increasing, forgetting herself more and more.

Geralt did not forget himself.

“Triss…Please.”

“Oh, Geralt… So much…”

“Triss.” He moved her away delicately. “We’re not alone… They’re coming.”

So they have a (bit) of a spicy post-death reunion where Geralt says some very nice and heartfelt things things that make Triss especially horny. Triss almost orgasms from a hug and kisses Geralt to avoid moaning (can you tell this series was written by a man yet?)

Then later, Geralt and Triss have a conversation about Geralt needing to reach out to Yennefer because Ciri’s trances and magic are becoming overwhelming. In fact, in this scene, Triss is pretty shaken up because she was just in a joint-trance with Ciri. So, post-trance in Blood of Elves Geralt brings up their past hook-up: 

“You have to get help from another magician. A more gifted one. More experienced. You know who I’m talking about.”

“I do.” He turned his head away, clenched his lips.

“Don’t resist. Don’t defend yourself. I can guess why you turned to me rather than her. Overcome your pride, crush your rancour and obstinacy. There is no point to it, you’ll torture yourself to death. And you are risking Ciri’s health and life in the process. Another trance is liable to be more dangerous to her than the Trial of Grasses. Ask Yennefer for help, Geralt.”

“And you, Triss?”

“What about me?” She swallowed with difficulty. “I’m not important. I let you down. I let you down… in everything. I was… I was your mistake. Nothing more.”

“Mistakes,” he said with effort, “are also important to me. I don’t cross them out of my life, or memory. And I never blame others for them. You are important to me, Triss, and always will be. You never let me down. Never. Believe me.”

She remained silent a long while.

“I will stay until spring,” she said finally, struggling against her shaking voice. “I will stay with Ciri… I will watch over her. Day and night. I will be with her day and night. And when spring is here… when spring is here we will take her to Melitele’s Temple in Ellander. The thing that wants to possess her might not be able to reach her in the temple. And then you will ask Yennefer for help.”

“All right, Triss. Thank you.”

“Geralt?”

“Yes.”

“Ciri said something else, didn’t she? Something only you heard. Tell me what it was.”

“No,” he protested and his voice quivered. “No, Triss.”

“Please.”

“She wasn’t speaking to me.”

“I know. She was speaking to me. Tell me, please.”

“After coming to… When I picked her up… She whispered: ‘Forget about him. Don’t torture him.’”

“I won’t,” she said quietly. “But I can’t forget. Forgive me.”

“I am the one who ought to be asking for forgiveness. And not only asking you.”

“You love her that much,” she stated, not asking.

“That much,” he admitted in a whisper after a long moment of silence.

“Geralt.”

“Yes, Triss?”

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Triss…”

“Only stay.”

“All right.”

Okay this scene makes me feel a lot of emotions because Triss knows she has to let go of Geralt and she genuinely wants to because she values her friendship with Yennefer more. But like she said, she can’t forget. And it’s also important that in the same way Triss asks forgiveness, Geralt is asking forgiveness too. He knows that he slept with Triss while still in love with Yennefer and while, like he says, he doesn’t think his mistake is unimportant, he is not going to pursue a romantic relationship with Triss. 

This scene is so important because it sets the boundaries for the two of them. Especially at the end with Triss asking Geralt to stay the night with her platonically, it’s them trying to re-gain their friendship without the romantic aspect. Triss is a pretty insecure character in the books. In fact, in an interview when asked what immediately came to mind when her name was mentioned, Andrzej Sapkowski said: insecure and red-headed. So her setting these boundaries for herself is important and Geralt setting these boundaries is important as well. 

After this, Geralt stays as as close friend of Triss, even comforting her when she recounts the Battle of Sodden (which btw is one of my favorite book Triss moments in the series, it’s so powerful). 

Then, Triss is traveling with Ciri and Geralt and gets very bad food poisoning and basically has to be nursed back to health by the two of them and Geralt has to literally hold her as she shits herself in the woods. So it’s nice that he’s being a supportive friends but also it’s a gross situation. 

On the road, when asked by Yarpen who Triss is to Geralt (Triss is currently very sick and asleep) he replies in Blood of Elves: 

“Who is this Triss to you?”

“What difference does it make in this situation?”

“In this situation – none. I asked out of an inappropriate curiosity born of the desire to start new rumours going around the inns. But be that as it may, you’re mighty attracted to this enchantress, Geralt.”

The witcher smiled sadly.

You can tell that there is a still a lingering sense of attraction. But it’s not love and it pales in comparison to what Geralt feels for Yennefer. So it’s important Geralt keeps up the boundaries he set earlier. But it’s not just Geralt who has trouble letting go. When Triss is in the worst part of her fever she says this to Geralt: 

“Oh, Geralt,” she sobbed. “I so regret… I so regret that what was between us”

“Triss, please.”

“…it should have happened… now. When I’m better… It would be entirely different… I could… I could even—”

“Triss.”

“I envy Yennefer… I envy her you—”

“Ciri, step out.”

“But—”

“Go, please.”

It’s hard for the both of them, in my opinion Triss far more than Geralt but they both struggle. 

It’s important to note that at the end of Blood of Elves, Yennefer also finds out the whole story about Triss and Geralt from Ciri:

There was a subject which the girl [Ciri] instinctively and carefully avoided. But one day, she got carried away and spoke out. About Triss Merigold. Yennefer, as if casually, as if indifferently, asking as if banal, sparing questions, dragged the rest from her. Her eyes were hard and impenetrable.

Now, the next time Geralt and Triss meet, Geralt and Yennefer were invited along by Philippa to attend a mages’ meeting on the island Thanedd. Here is their meeting from Time of Contempt: 

They went over to Triss, who was shimmering in shades of blue and pale green. On seeing them, Triss broke off her conversation with two sorcerers, smiled radiantly and hugged Yennefer; the ritual of kissing the air near each other’s ears was repeated. Geralt took the proffered hand, but decided to act contrary to the rules of etiquette; he embraced the chestnut-haired enchantress and kissed her on her soft cheek, as downy as a peach. Triss blushed faintly.

So, Yennefer knows that they slept together but they all seem to be able to co-exist together which is good. Yennefer and Triss even have a sem-nice conversation about Ciri together moments later:

“They’re on excellent terms,’ Yennefer warned her gravely. ‘Be careful, Triss. Don’t breathe a word to him about–about you know who.’

‘I know. I’ll be careful. And by the way…’ Triss lowered her voice. ‘How’s she doing? Will I be able to see her?’

‘If you finally decide to run classes at Aretuza,’ smiled Yennefer, ‘you’ll be able to see her very often.’

‘Ah,’ said Triss, opening her eyes widely. ‘I see. Is Ciri…?’

‘Be quiet, Triss. We’ll talk about it later. Tomorrow. After the Council.”

“Tomorrow?’ said Triss, smiling strangely. Yennefer frowned, but before she had time to ask a question, a slight commotion suddenly broke out in the hall.”

This is an important conversation, because Philippa set up the Thanned meeting as a way to arrest Nilfgaardian mages such as Vilgefortz and Francesca and Triss was in on this planned coup while Yennefer was not. However, I don’t want to get too off-track, so back to Geralt and Triss’ relationship! 

Triss in Time of Contempt, mentions to Geralt that Yennefer is member of the mage’s council and asks Yennefer why she hadn’t told Geralt yet and this is Yennefer’s reply: 

“No, darling,’ said the enchantress, looking her friend straight in the eyes. ‘For one thing, I don’t like to boast. For another, there’s been no time. I haven’t seen Geralt for ages, and we have a lot of catching up to do. There’s already a long list. We’re going through it point by point.’

‘I see,’ said Triss hesitantly. ‘Hmm… After such a long time I understand. You must have lots to talk about…’

‘Talking,’ smiled Yennefer suggestively, giving the Witcher another smouldering glance, ‘is way down the list. Right at the very bottom, Triss.’

The chestnut-haired enchantress was clearly discomfited and blushed faintly.

‘I see,’ she said, playing in embarrassment with her lapis-lazuli heart.

‘I’m so glad you do. Geralt, bring us some wine. No, not from that page. From that one, over there.”

Then, Geralt asks Yennefer once he and her are alone and says: 

“Sure you didn’t go a bit too far?’ he asked coldly. Yennefer’s eyes flared violet.”

“Don’t try to make a fool out of me. Did you think I don’t know about you and her?’

‘If that’s what you—’

‘That’s precisely what,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘Don’t make stupid faces, and refrain from comments. And above all, don’t try to lie to me. I’ve known Triss longer than I’ve known you. We like each other. We understand each other wonderfully and will always do so, irrespective of various minor… incidents. Just then it seemed to me she had some doubts. So I put her right, and that’s that. Let’s not discuss it any further.”

So underneath this exterior, there’s definitely some tension and we see Yennefer’s possessive side come out. Needless to say, Triss isn’t going anywhere near Geralt romantically while Yennefer is in the picture. However, it is important to note that Yennefer still highly values Triss’ friendship, going so far as to daydream about her being in their lives if Yennefer and Geralt were to ever retire. 

Then, during the coup on Thanned, Geralt’s leg is horribly injured and Triss is the one who saves him (although she did help cause the coup in the first place). From Time of Contempt: 

Now Geralt could see nothing and hear nothing. He was sinking, submerging into something warm. He thought Vilgefortz had gone. He was astonished, then, when a fierce blow from the iron staff struck his thigh, smashing the shaft of his femur.

If anything occurred after that, he did not remember it.

‘Hang in there, Geralt. Don’t give up,’ repeated Triss Merigold endlessly. ‘Hang in there. Don’t die… Please don’t die…’

‘Ciri…’

‘Don’t talk. I’ll soon get you out of here. Hold on… Damn I’m too weak, by the gods…’

‘Yennefer… I have to—’

‘You don’t have to do anything! You can’t do anything! Hang in there. Don’t give up… Don’t faint… Don’t die, please…’

She dragged him across the floor, which was littered with bodies. He saw his chest and belly covered in blood, which was streaming from his nose. He saw his leg. It was twisted at a strange angle and seemed much shorter than the intact one. He didn’t feel any pain. He felt cold. His entire body was cold, numb and foreign. He wanted to puke.

‘Hold on, Geralt. Help is coming from Aretuza. It’ll soon be here…’

Triss basically drags Geralt to Tissaia and begs for help. Tissaia reluctantly gives help and Triss teleports Geralt from Thanned to Brokilon to be healed by the dryads and tells only Dandelion where he is and keeps Geralt’s location a secret. Both Yennefer and Ciri are missing after the coup. 

However, once Triss fully commits herself to the Lodge of Sorceresses, she puts  their well-being above all her previous connections. In The Tower of Swallows, she is even willing to let Geralt die as he didn’t serve the purposes of the Lodge:

“The information,” Yennefer said dully, “for his life. Save him, Philippa.”

“No, Yennefer.”

“Because it's not in the interest of the Lodge.” A purple fire kindled in the sorceress’ eyes. “Did you hear that Triss? There, you have your Lodge. You see their true colors, their true interests. And what do you think of them? You were a mentor to the girl, almost – as you put it – a big sister. And Geralt…”

“Do not attack Triss’ relationships, Yennefer.” Philippa retaliated with her own fire in her eyes. “We will find and rescue the girl without your help. And if you succeed, that's fine, a thousand thanks, because you will have saved us the trouble. You tear the girl out of the hands of Vilgefortz and we will be happy. And Geralt? Who cares about Geralt?”

“Did you hear that, Triss?”

“Forgive me,” said Triss Merigold dully. “Forgive me, Yennefer.”

“Oh, no, Triss. Never.”

While Triss takes many steps to try and find and save Ciri, she does nothing of the sort for Geralt and it appears that she has abandoned much of their friendship (and Yennefer’s) in favor of The Lodge. Despite this, Triss still showcases jealously whenever someone else mentions being involved with Geralt. 

For example, in Lady of the Lake, Fringilla is summarizing her seduction of Geralt and his responses and says: 

“December came,” she continued. “Then Yule, then the New Year. The witcher calmed down to the point where Ciri’s name no longer showed up in every conversation. The monster hunting expeditions, which he regularly undertook, seemed to completely avail him. Well, maybe not completely…”

She trailed off. She thought she had seen Triss Merigold’s blue eyes flash with hatred. But perhaps it had just been a reflection of the flickering candle flames. 

Seeing The Lodge like this is a turning point for Triss and she regrets joining The Lodge and her actions in The Tower of Swallows and says as much to Nenneke in Lady of the Lake:

“I cannot go madly hurrying after Ciri to help her, I cannot run like crazy to save Geralt and Yennefer. Not only that, there is a war, which you have sent your girls… A war, that Jarre fled to and I am refused the possibility to even stand on a hill. To once again stand on a hill. Knowing this time, I’d made the right decision.”

“Everyone has their decisions and everyone has their hills, Triss,” the priestess said quietly. “Everyone. You cannot escape your own.”

This arc of jealously, betrayal, and love comes to a head when Triss accompanies Ciri and Yennefer to Rivia to try and rescue Geralt from an uprising. Yennefer rounds on Triss and the two of them have an absolutely vitriolic fight. From Lady of the Lake: 

Triss averted her face, determined not to give Yennefer any excuse. She did not expect it to work. For a long time she had been sensing Yennefer’s anger and aggression growing stronger as they approached Rivia.

“You, Triss,” Yennefer mischievously insisted, “do not blush, do not sigh, do not drool or wiggle around in your saddle. Or is it that you think because I agreed to your request that I want to have you with us? That I was interested in seeing you spend a meeting with an old love? Ciri, I asked you to go on ahead. The two of us need to talk!”

“It is not a discussion, it is a lecture.” Ciri dared to argue, but under the threatening glare from violet eyes, she immediately recoiled, clucked and galloped off on Kelpie on the road ahead.

“You’re not going to meet a loved one, Triss,” Yennefer continued. “I am not so noble or stupid enough to give you the opportunity, or him the temptation. But just for today. I could not deny myself the sweet satisfaction. He will know what role you play as a member of the Lodge. He will thank you for that with his famous look. And I’ll be looking at your quivering lips and trembling hands, I will listen to your lame apologies and excuses. And you know what, Triss? I will faint with delight.”

“I knew,” Triss grunted. “That you would not forget, that you would take your revenge. I agreed to this, because I was actually at fault. But one thing I must tell you, Yennefer. Do not count too much on fainting. He knows how to forgive.

“He knows what was done to him, of course,” Yennefer narrowed her eyes. “But he will never forgive you for what was done to Ciri. And me.”

“It is possible,” Triss swallowed. “He may not forgive. Especially if you insist. But he won’t fly into a rage. He won’t lower himself like that.”

“Yennefer flicked her horse with her whip in anger. The animal whinnied and leapt and the sorceress swayed in her saddle.

“Enough talk,” she snapped. “More humility, you smug viper! He is my man, mine and only mine! Do you understand? You have to stop talking about him, to stop thinking about him, you have to stop admiring his noble character… As of right now, right now! Oh I want to grab you by your matted red hair…

“Try it!” Screamed Triss. “Just try it, you vindictive bitch and I’ll scratch out your eyes! I…”

The both fell silent when they saw the cloud of dust as Ciri galloped back towards them.

That fight was particularly ugly and it’s built out of a lot of repressed feelings and betrayal over the course of the story that these two refused to properly address. However, the two of them put this aside in order to work together and fight together in the end of Lady of the Lake, but this post is not for analyzing Yennefer and Triss’ relationship so I won’t link the quote. 

TLDR: At the end of the day, Triss and Geralt have a clearly described mutual attraction to each other through all the books. However, Geralt’s attraction to Triss does not compare to his love for Yennefer and as such, despite Triss and Geralt sleeping together once, they set boundaries and relegate each other to friends. Geralt never fully stops being slightly drawn to and sympathetic towards Triss and Triss never fully falls out of love with Geralt.  

[samsoleil]

you can now read the homeschooled au on ao3! or you can keep reading here. in this installment, the boys go to a mall for the first time and have an Experience™

(cw for sensory overload, if that's something that doesn't quite butter your bread roll)

One day, Sam realised that their dad was just a person.

He can’t remember the conversation, if it could be called that, in its entirety. But what he does remember with a surreal vividness is seeing Dad’s face, cold and hard with rage and frustration, and thinking, I don’t understand. Real life doesn’t have those scenes where the camera cuts to the perfect moment to explain the characters’ motivations. Dad had a whole life before Sam and lives most of his existence separate from Sam, with his own ideas and interpretations and some sort of equation that added one dead wife and two kids and came up with the mess that’s been Sam’s life so far. This experience of the world, a mark of being human.

And that thought was like a spotlight had been shone on Sam’s little corner of the world, this glaring thing, an unavoidable truth. It isn’t always there but, when it is, it’s inescapable. If Sam’s honest, it’s fuelled the fire in more than one of his arguments with their dad. Sam wonders if this is how Eve felt after biting into the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, cursed with a realisation that can’t ever be unlearned.

But Dean’s different. Dean’s life isn’t this impossible, untouchable thing like Dad’s is; it’s Sam’s life, too, this thing they share, and Dean lives life more than anyone else Sam's met. Admittedly, Sam can name the amount of people he's actually met, beyond the handful of cashiers he's made uncomfortable eye contact with, on one hand. But he can't imagine that anyone who's ever spoken to Dean has left the conversation thinking, Well, he doesn't experience life as much as I do.

That’s not the point. The point is, Sam’s become accustomed to the concept that people in the real world have thoughts and feelings and lives that Sam will never know. But he and Dean had wanted to try going to a mall for lunch, instead of their usual cafés, and Sam had no idea that you could find this many people in a single place.

"Wow," he says, standing with Dean in the doorway.

There really are just so many of them. Parents with their kids, old couples, gaggles of teenagers laughing and shouting. Sam sees a group of girls around Dean's age in bright colours, hair falling in a sheet around their shoulders. He sees two young parents with their baby, jostling them up and down as they wail, drawing dirty looks from a couple of older women chatting over coffee. Everything is fluorescent bulbs and colour and sound. It's wonderful. It's horrible. There are so many of them and Sam has no idea who any of them are. It’s the Tree of Knowledge again, if biting into fruit was comparable to plummeting off a cliff, and he doesn't think he’d be able to handle feeling like this all the time. It's almost too much, to think that everyone here is just as alive as Sam and Dean.

Sam reaches out slightly to tangle his fingers between Dean's. Dean's hand relaxes easily, less soft and larger than Sam's, and grips him reassuringly after Sam's fingers are threaded with his. He feels better, after that. He watches the small family as the baby suddenly stops crying, their mother pressing a pacifier into their mouth and receiving a gummy smile. Genetically, a person's DNA is half their mother and half their father. Sam has a matching theory about himself as a whole. Half of Sam is characters from books, TV shows, movies, and half of Sam is Dean.

He follows after Dean as they move out of the doorway, away from Sam's sudden movie moment, and they melt into the crowd. It's even worse once they get in there, and Sam keeps overhearing snippets of conversation, fragments of this bustling chaos of lives.

"-working Friday, and I don't know if-"

There's a girl with an ear full of piercings, silver and solid, wearing all black with ripped jeans and a leather jacket-

"-assignment? I haven't-"

-and the sun streaming in through one of the windows flashes off the glass of one of the stores, momentarily turning Sam's vision white, and it's enough to make his eyes sting-

"-Sarah, Katy, wai-"

-while the air is filled with the scent of a hundred different foods, sweet as spun sugar one second and then the smoky thickness of meat, and Sam's head turns to follow the smell of flowers carried by the curls of a dark-skinned man in jeans-

"-long black, two sugars. Do you ha-"

-who greets an older woman with greying hair, and Sam turns back to face the direction they're heading and sees a crowd of people too thick to move through.

"-believe, I mean, it was so-"

He squeezes Dean's hand. Dean squeezes back. Sam squeezes again, and they have a back and forth for a minute or so as they wait for a space to open up in the crowd ahead of them. Sam knows what the person at the counter is ordering and what the people at the table behind them did for their weekend and what Donnie did to Amy, did you hear?

I heard, Sam thinks viciously, Everyone in a ten mile radius heard, can you shut up?

And then he feels bad, because it's not their fault it's so loud in here. He can barely hear himself think. He can't even hear himself breathe, can just feel his lungs inhaling and exhaling in his chest. The functional unit of the lungs are small sacs called alveoli that have walls one cell thin, and the culmination of Sam's can usually run a five minute mile but today, now, they're barely keeping him standing.

"-diagnosis, it all happened so fast-"

It's been a minute since he last squeezed Dean's hand, so he squeezes again. And Dean squeezes back, hard, and that seems to help the frantic energy building in Sam's body, so when Dean starts to relax his hand Sam squeezes again and he doesn't let go.

"-don't know what I'd do-"

And Dean looks back, and something must show in Sam's face, because then they're moving, the crowd be damned. Someone brushes against Sam and he feels every part of it, too aware of the fabric of their shirt brushing against Sam's flannel. Someone else steps on the side of his shoe and he wants to step on them back, wants them to finish the job, wants to break out of his body. Dean's squeezing Sam's hand hard enough that he feels the bones in his hand shift, but it's all he has, right now. The rest of him is too busy paying attention to everything else.

"-rotten leaf in my salad, I want-"

There's a group of children laughing and stumbling over their feet, their mothers following behind with gentle smiles and chattering conversation, and Sam feels this tug of want-

"-failed my midterms, so I just-"

-and there's someone in a bright, multicoloured jacket holding hands with a girl dressed in all denim, laughing as they reach up to gently grasp her chin and lean in-

"-loud in here, do you want-"

-so Sam looks away, and no matter where he looks there's another person, another family, another store, another thing bright and beautiful and he can't take it, okay, it's just too much-

"-I said, that's crazy, no way-"

-for him to handle right now, the everything of it all, the thought that, all this time, the entire world has existed just outside of their motel room and he's barely a part of it.

"-beautiful, Mary-"

Sam's heart jolts in his chest.

I can't do this, he thinks desperately, still moving with Dean, pulled along by him, his hand encompassed by Dean's. He tamps down the visceral urge to just lie down here, press himself into the tile and be consumed. He sidesteps a puddle of someone's chocolate thickshake, his stomach turning over. He can feel the slick of his sweat between Dean's large, warm hand and his own. Part of him wants to tug away to dry his palm on his jeans, but he feels like he might fall apart if he does.

Dean leads him into a store and the temperature change shocks him, sending shivers cascading down his spine, and Sam feels suddenly unwell, like when he has the flu. But it's quieter in here, the cacophony of the mall muted by the racks of clothing. The fluorescents take all the red away, leaving Dean wearing an ugly brown flannel, and that sick feeling grows stronger. Sam closes his eyes, letting Dean guide him. He flinches at the clatter as Dean pulls something off the rack, the hanger tapping plastic against metal railing, and lets himself be swept along, around a corner and into a changing room, Dean pulling the curtains closed.

Sam bypasses the bench to sit down on the floor, gaze fixed on where the curtain brushes against the faux wood linoleum. He can still hear the chatter in the store, muffled as if underwater.

Dean crouches down in front of him, breaking his line of sight, but Sam can't move. He can't stay still. He's going to fall apart. He's going to turn to stone. He wants to run, run, out through the mall and back home, he wants to crawl into Dean's chest and stay there forever and never go outside again. Fuck outside. Outside is overrated. Outside is filled with people who couldn't give less of a shit about Sam, going about their days while he falls apart in the middle of a food court. Outside is filled with people who aren't Sam and Dean, living TV lives while they spin out on some highway in Nowhere, America.

"Sammy?" Dean says, and it's so loud, what the hell, Dean.

Sam untangles himself from his little ball of limbs to silently shoosh him, and he watches as the tense line of Dean's shoulders relax infinitesimally from where they were hitched up around his ears, all worry. Dean bats his hands away gently, fine, fine, he'll be quiet.

What happened? asks the moue of Dean's mouth, the furrow between his brows.

Sam shrugs.

That's not an answer.

And Sam knows it's not, but how is he meant to explain it when even he doesn't know what happened? It was just everything, all at once, and it crept under Sam's skin and into his head and he couldn't escape it. He looks up at Dean, helpless, and Dean's hands come up to cradle his face and it's alright. It'll be okay. Sam tips his head into the warmth of Dean's skin, lets his eyes fall closed.

Someone laughs from in the store and Sam flinches, then feels Dean's hands move to cover his ears instead. Sam sighs and leans into Dean's chest. He expects to hate it, being touched, worries that he'll want to shed his skin in a heap at the feeling of it, but it's Dean. Sam presses his forehead into Dean's ribs firm enough to bruise, and Dean pulls him along as he reshuffles on the floor so that Sam is between his legs, wrapped in warmth, anchored to the world. He moves his hands away from Sam's ears and Sam, with a bitter-sick feeling of betrayal, clamps his own over them, pressing hard. But Dean puts his hands on Sam's back instead, rubbing soothingly, and that's better than anything else.

A few moments pass, quietly, just the two of them. Sam’s still stuck in his head, which is tuned into the world like a radio turned up too high, but he does his best to focus on the smooth movements of Dean’s hands up and down his back, fingers running over the knobs of his spine. They’re called spinous processes, and they lengthen throughout the cervical spine but are mostly the same size in the thoracic spine. Sam checked. Dean kicked up only a little bit of a fuss. And when Sam realises that he’s playing that memory in his head, eyelids heavy, he notices that he’s feeling a little better.

As if reading his mind, Dean moves his hands to rest on Sam’s arms, and Sam settles back. He takes his hands away from his ears, blinking hard. His chest feels a bit tight, but he’s okay. He conveys as much to Dean, who looks over him, expression doubtful. But when he sees Sam watching his face he plasters on a grin, rubbing Sam’s arms quickly through his shirt before he moves back, too.

Dean signs for Baby. They don’t have to stay.

Part of Sam wants to leave, but it feels like giving up. And he wants to try the mall, was excited until he became overwhelmed and, if he tries, he can make the adrenaline feel more like anticipation.

“I want to stay." He accompanies the words with their signs. “Can we get pizza?”

Dean kept bringing it up in the car, subtle as a truck, and Sam saw some slices of a vegetarian pizza through the glass of one of the counters. It’s an easy choice to make. Sam doesn’t really feel like pizza, but he knows that Dean will try to cheer him up the same way he cheers himself up. And it works, for the most part. Dean just hasn’t quite realised that the main reason why is because Sam likes seeing Dean happy.

And, fine. Sam knows Dean needs him to be happy, too, and maybe that plays a bigger part in it all than Sam would care to admit. He knows that if he asked to leave, they would be as good as gone. It's enough to make him feel lightheaded, sometimes, the things that Dean would do for him. And it's not even because he has to. He chose Sam, over their dad, over hunting, over the chance to be free from Sam's drama forever. So they'll stay, and they'll get pizza, and they'll buy jackets and underwear and Dean's paraphernalia, and then they'll be gone. Sam just needs to hold on for a few more hours.

Dean beams and Sam feels his cheeks flush in response. Dean's so, so proud of him. He circles Sam's heart through his shirt and Sam feels something bright and beautiful settle in him. It’s contagious.

"That's my boy," Dean says, ruffling Sam's hair.

Sam pushes him away gently, reaching up to fix his hair, and Dean rocks back, still wearing that easy smile. Sam has to look away, eyes settling on the amulet sitting on Dean's chest and shining dully in the crappy change room lighting. Sam doesn't know how he does it. Sam knows better than anyone that life isn't always sunshine and roses but, even with Sam losing his grip over and over, Dean's still here. Maybe it's selfish, but Sam can't help but be desperately grateful. He wouldn't trade where they are now for anything. They're alive now in a way they weren't before, and Dean seems to be genuinely enjoying it. Sam wants to love existing that much.

Dean stands and offers him his hand.

One day, maybe I will, Sam thinks, and he reaches out.

[rottenappleheart]

I finished “Heaven’s Vault,” that archaeology/alien translation game that everyone was so excited about before it came out, and then I never heard of again. I think I know why. 

Short version: it seems as though it was made by people who were very good at the worldbuilding/linguistics parts, and not very good at making a video game.

Long version:  I did enjoy the game, eventually.  Beat it in just under 20 hours, feeling fairly good that I hadn’t missed anything major and had done everything I could find to do before the end. I also see now that there’s a New Game+ which gives the opportunity to spin things out again in a different manner, with more information, and this really neat article (spoilers ahoy) talks about how the mere concept of a NG+ is part of the worldbuilding (the Loop religion centers around the idea that everything that has happened will happen again.) 

The learning curve was very steep at the beginning, because of the aforementioned gameplay problems getting in the way of the “meat” of the game. Some low points:

The controls are extremely janky and remained frustrating throughout. I had to turn the mouse sensitivity to its very lowest setting to avoid spinning like a top, and the restricted camera angles often send you walking off in a direction you never meant, leaping back and forth through doorways when you just wanted to enter (or exit) a room, etc. 

The mandatory and constant “sailing” minigame, while beautiful, is aggravating and not as fun as I assume the developers thought it would be, given how much you have to do it. Whereas Wind Waker’s equally mandatory and equally constant sailing is a feature of the game, here it was mostly a lengthy interruption between the snippets of actual content. Except that bits of the story are also spun out in conversations between Aliya and the robot Six on these sailing interludes, so you’re encouraged not to skip them, the few times you are even given that option.

The graphics are... odd and awkward, unfortunately. The developers tried a very neat thing with (beautiful and detailed) 3D rendered environments, populated by (also beautiful, but jarringly animated) 2D hand-drawn characters. Who don’t have feet, but kind of fade into invisibility just below the knees, so as to avoid rendering walking animations, I guess. It’s very strange. There’s also no “collision sensor,” so your 2D player character is constantly clipping through other 2D NPCs, which sometimes interrupt everything you’re doing for a 15 second animated scene where they greet you, then walk away. There’s no way to avoid this. And when that happens, it overrides and cancels any ambient but plot-relevant discussion you were having with Six, which was deeply frustrating.

Speaking of which - there are a lot of strange, time-consuming transitions. Walking out of one section of the Elboreth marketplace into another takes another 10 second scene triggered by you entering a doorway, just to show you walking through a side alley. Every single time. When you show artifacts to a colleague, he will walk all the way to the other side of his office and walk all the way back before offering the same dialogue as every time before. Realistic, to grant him time to check his data? Yes. Extremely frustrating as an element of gameplay? Also yes.

Also, my game glitched multiple times, everything slowing to an infinite limbo as a triggering event failed to trigger, requiring a full reset. Any interaction with Oroi, for whatever reason, had a 33% chance of glitching. 

All of this adds up to a game that creaks and clunks, and is deeply frustrating to play. These are all things which seem fueled by bad design/poor planning, and it takes away from the GOOD parts of the game. Namely:

It’s really beautiful (once you get over the 2D/3D intersection.) The music is lovely, and all the designs are top notch. I really enjoyed spending time in these various worlds and discovering their history. (Actually WALKING through the worlds, less enjoyable, but...)

The development of the story and the character interactions is mostly organic and nuanced. Like a Bioware game (I’m sorry to reference them but it’s the easiest comparison), your responses to different plot events and side characters, and the order in which you discover things (or even what conclusions you draw! there isn’t necessarily a single right answer!) shapes the narrative. Unfortunately, it quickly becomes obvious when the NPCs have run out of interactions for you... such as when you take a twenty-minute sail to revisit your home planet, suffer through endless clipping issues and mandatory transitions, only for your contacts there to have zero dialogue options. (Whoops, this was supposed to be the “good” section.) 

The translations, which are the heart of the game, become really fun after the first few. Initially, you have ZERO information when you are given your first line of text to interpret, and have to guess blindly. In a little bit, you are given more information to determine whether that first guess was right or wrong. It’s a little frustrating, but I think what the developers were going for is that Aliya is already roughly familiar with Ancient script, and whatever initial guess she makes is about 50/50 correct. Each new line of text you uncover builds on the glyphs you already know. It became very fun to make more educated guesses - ah, I recognize the symbol we identified as “Gods,” so maybe combined with this other symbol, it might be “Prayer” or “Temple” - something related. Or when you start breaking down the “me/you/we/my/your/our” glyphs, it all makes SENSE. That was the fun part I eventually couldn’t get enough of - parsing out what Ancient meant, and piecing together the story behind the Nebula.

I genuinely did gasp when I figured out A Big Thing about the world story.

I really love stories about robots. Long-suffering, mildly sarcastic robots who are trying very hard to keep you alive while you do stupid things like climb down cliffs they can’t follow. I am very glad I was warned about the risk of losing Six forever and could avoid that particular path, because I think the last third of the game would have been a real bummer without Six as a companion.

Do I recommend it? Yes... mostly. Yes, with the caveats above about how clunky and frustrating the gameplay is. I probably will replay it in a while, taking advantage of the NG+, but not right away - I need to play something less inherently frustrating.

I wish there were more games like this, but I also wish it had been better developed, so that the good parts of it could really shine.

[geeks-universe]

Until Dawn Breaks

Darkness Shall Reign.

A/N: This is going to be a slow burn Dean Winchester x Reader that brings y’all back to the beginning. Buckle up.

The look Bobby was giving you was not one you were willing to acknowledge.

You knew it all too well. In the past few years since you’d first run into the hunter, he’d been gazing at you with something akin to sorrow- pity, even.

“We can talk about it,” Bobby finally said, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that told you he was uncomfortable.

You’d come to know pretty much everything about the man who considered himself your adoptive father. Not that he’d ever explicitly worded it like that. (This was the great Bobby Singer after all, he had a reputation to maintain.) Still, besides the few ‘friends’ you’d made in the hunter community, you didn’t really have anyone else. Thus, Bobby became the one person you could trust.

And he never, ever took that for granted.

“If you want to,” he shrugged, eying you closely.

He knew that if it was a particularly bad dream, you wouldn’t want to. There were ones that you would let fade so far into your mind you’d never hope to think of them again. And then there were the ones you’d wish more than anything to dream of again.

You echoed his gesture.

“I don’t remember much,” you admitted. Your unwillingness to think about what you did remember remained unspoken, but he understood.

He cleared his throat.

This subject had a way of making the both of you uncomfortable. Before Bobby found you in the backwoods of some old town in Montana, you knew nothing. Not where you’d been, not where you were going, not even why blood dripped down the front of your shirt.

You were banged up really bad, though it didn’t seem that the vamp nest you’d been dragged to had anything to do with it. And Bobby, bless his soul, didn’t have the heart to turn down a kid with wide eyes and glistening tears.

He’d been wary at first, but you broke down the walls around his old heart. The two of you found your own little family, and you knew that no matter what happened in your past, you would always have him.

“Dean called,” Bobby spoke finally, hoping for a change of topic.

You gave a noncommittal hum. You knew the Winchesters boys by name only. You’d met their father a few times, and he was a little rough around the edges, but he’d warmed up after you helped him with a wendigo in Michigan. Bobby didn’t seem to mind that you’d never met the boys he’d talked so much about though.

You had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the numerous complaints he’d made about Dean and one too many hookups when they were working a case together.

“He thinks John’s missing.”

You quirked a brow, a clear sign you wanted him to elaborate.

“He went on a hunt and didn’t call. It’s been longer than normal.”

A thoughtful nod was all you offered in reply. Personally, you didn’t think anything could take the great John Winchester down. He fought with such tenacity and proceeded with far more caution than most hunters. He was as good as they got.

“He’s going to look for him, wanted me to go with.”

“And are you?” You asked.

He shook his head.

“I’m too old for wild goose chases. ‘Sides, I figured now would be the best time to let you stretch your wings.”

Your eyes went wide as you searched for some sort of sign that he was joking. Bobby had always made sure that when you went on hunts, you were close to him, if not with him. There were very, very few instances where he’d let you go without him, and those were only ever if you were with another seasoned hunter.

Despite the fact that you had turned 20 months before, he still didn’t want you out on your own. And you fully understood why. Hunting was a dangerous business, and you’d only been at it for four years- at least to your knowledge.

You were skilled though. Exceedingly so. Had been since the very beginning. Bobby had wondered if there was a possibility you were a hunter before he’d found you, but all of his research had yielded nothing. He’d never found information on your life before.

“Honestly?”

The serious glint in his eyes grew in intensity. You knew what the look meant, but Bobby still found the need to voice his concerns.

“Dean will be here tomorrow.” He told you, leaning forward an inch in his chair. “I don’t know how long this is going to take, but…”

He paused, almost as if he wasn’t sure what words he wanted to use at the moment. After an extended silence, he put the utmost sincerity into his words.

“Be careful.”

The rest of the day- and, if you were being honest, most of the night- was spent training. The majority of it was with Bobby, though you’d spent the better half of the night without him. He needed his rest, and you needed to calm your own nerves. You weren’t particularly afraid of hunting without him, but you were afraid of the dreams that might plague you.

The funny thing about having no past was it seemed to always want to tease you while you slept. It was like little snippets of what you’d been doing would seep through the cracks while you were unconscious. Bobby was the only one you trusted to talk to about it. 

Eventually, however, exhaustion set in. Training would do no good, so you put your fears aside and fell into a fitful sleep. Unlike most mornings, Bobby woke up before you did.

He was conversing with a deep voice on the floor below you while the tendrils of unconsciousness retreated from your mind. You stretched out, grimacing at the tiredness you still felt. The clock by your bed let you know it was nearly noon.

Most days you woke early, if only because nightmares and dreams plagued your sleep. You had a feeling most of it was memories, but no real way of knowing. Some days your exhaustion would cause you to sleep for far longer than considered healthy. You were glad you at least got a little rest before starting on this journey, because you didn’t know how well you’d fare without Bobby by your side.

You took your time getting ready, knowing that Bobby wanted to catch up with Dean. (Plus, the warm water of your shower felt very nice.) You’d already packed your stuff, but you found yourself double checking that you had everything.

Before you headed down, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The bags under your eyes were nearly gone from the extra sleep. Your hair was pulled back from your face, which you noticed seemed to have a healthier glow than it had the night before. You’d grown up a lot in the past four years, you noted.

It wasn’t just the disappearance of baby fat and the womanly figure though, it was the look in your eyes. They were like a storm, thundering with a knowledge even you couldn’t interpret. Sighing to yourself, you wrapped Bobby’s flannel tighter around your shoulders. He’d given it to you the very first day he’d found you, and it’d just become yours from then on.

You headed downstairs then, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

You weren’t sure what to expect from Dean Winchester, but it certainly wasn’t what you saw. His gaze was drawn to you before you’d even stepped into view, no doubt a nod to his training as a hunter. His gaze was almost playful, and a boyish grin tugged at his lips. His eyes, a gentle green, shined brightly. His lips were a pale pink, and you found yourself hard pressed to continue your assessment.

“Hi,” he greeted, though there was something in his voice that spoke of a little more than an introduction.

Bobby groaned.

“Don’t even think about it,” he bit out.

Dean frowned when you giggled at Bobby’s reaction.

“Nothing to worry about,” you promised your adoptive father with a sweet smile.

He didn’t look particularly convinced, but he also trusted you far more than most people. (And he still didn’t know about all the times you’d snuck out with Blake the past few years. You’re sure that might make him a little less trustworthy when it comes to boys, but what didn’t know him won’t kill him.)

“I’m (Y/N),” you said as an introduction.

He nodded his head, a smirk on his lips.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You had no doubt about it. Bobby always was proud of you, even if he never admitted it.

“Can you give us a minute?” Bobby asked, shooting Dean a look.

The man paused, then gave a winning smile.

“Of course, I’ll take your bag out.”

You raised a brow, but gave Dean your bag. He took it without hesitation, turning around without so much as a goodbye. You watched him go before you turned to Bobby, knowing the man wouldn’t speak up until Dean was gone.

“Okay, what do you-”

You were cut off by your own surprise when Bobby pulled you into a tight hug. It took a moment before you returned it, but you hugged him just as fiercely.

“Be careful, kid,” he said seriously, loosening his grip just a little. He pulled back far enough to look into your eyes. “If you need anything, I’ll be here.”

You laughed breathlessly, nodding through the tears in your eyes.

“I know.”

He jerked his head in the direction Dean left.

“Go.”

You gave him one last smile- wide and without restraint- and then left the house you’d called home for the past four years. Truth was, you didn’t know how long this would take, but deep down you had one hell of a feeling you were approaching something big. In the time you’d known Bobby, he’d taught you well. Now, it was time for you to take a new adventure, and whatever may come, you knew you’d be prepared.

And who knows, maybe you’d get some answers along the way.

[tlhnetwork]

the last hours by cassandra clare : a complete compilation of snippets released as of 19 feb 19

reminder that snippets are tentative and can be misleading, it’s all up to interpretation. i have ordered the snippets, some are all from chain of gold as far as i guessed / can tell from cassie’s tags and have some sort of sequence, others are most likely from chain of gold too. some are from cassie’s pinterest so they might just be ideas. i will update this post at least once a month, also depending on whether new snippets have been released. 

WILL, JEM, TESSA & JAMES ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Will had been sitting on the floor, the rug bunched up under his feet, with his back against Tessa’s legs. He looked up when Jem came in, and Jem, in his Silent Brother robes, went over to Will and sat down beside him. He drew Will’s head against his shoulder, and Will held the front of Jem’s robes in his fists and he cried. It was the first time it had ever occurred to James that his father might cry about anything.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR

They were inseperable.

MATTHEW

"What's that little smile of yours?" Matthew inquired. "You look as if you're about to laugh."

UNKNOWN BOY & MATTHEW

He yanked him downward, and in a moment they were rolling on the carpet like puppies, Matthew laughing uncontrollably...

SEMI-UNIDENTIFIED SNIPPET ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

He took a deep breath, and crossed the floor of blades and constellations to the other boy’s side. He stood at the foot of the stairs, looking down.

“But of course,” he said, very softly, “your sentiments are reciprocated.”

He stooped over him, tilting his chin up. Their lips met. The other boy made a soft sound, almost like surrender, stretching under his body. He slid an arm around his neck and pulled him down onto the stairs.

TESSA & WILL

"Will." Tessa sank down beside him on the bed. "There is no war."

MATTHEW

"A lapidary phrase is one that is worth carving into stone," said Matthew, "and preserving forever — a wise saying such as we are dust and shadows, or alternately, any words that come out of my mouth."

JAMES

"That's because you’re drunk," said James. They were both sprawled at the same round table in an upper room of the Devil Tavern on Fleet Street.

MATTHEW

"I think too much and I drink too much," said Matthew, "that's my problem."

MATTHEW talking to JAMES

"Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the dark brooding one. It is tedious when you mix up our roles."

MATTHEW & JAMES

Matthew held out his hands. “Pax,” he said, wheedlingly. “Let it be peace between us. You can pour the rest of the port* on my head.”

James’ mouth curved up into a smile. It was impossible to stay angry with Matthew. It was almost impossible to get angry at Matthew.

* as it turns out, a definition of ‘port’ is a strong, sweet dark red (occasionally brown or white) fortified wine, originally from Portugal, typically drunk as a dessert wine. that’s how I made the connection between these snippets and arranged them so. it’s not confirmed.

WILL & LUCIE ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“What if Cordelia has changed her mind, and says she will not have a minx like you?”

“She would never!” Lucie was outraged.

“No,” Will agreed. “She would not. As far as I am concerned, you shall perform the ceremony as soon as you please. All I want is for you and Cordelia to live a long and happy life, and never be parted.”

CECILY ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

"I am pleased - it is high time I think more girls became parabatai with each other," said Cecily.

WILL & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“Cordelia Carstairs,” Will said, after greeting her mother. “How pretty you’ve become.”

Cordelia beamed. If Will thought she was pretty, perhaps his son thought so, too. Of course Will was entirely prejudiced toward all things Carstairs. He even thought Alastair was perfect (and, possibly, also pretty.)

LUCIE

The Beautiful Cordelia was a novel that Lucie had begun when she was twelve.

“THE BEAUTIFUL CORDELIA” LUCIE & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Cordelia glanced over her shoulder. “Is it — I mean, I wish to chat alone with you, too, but are we being dreadfully rude asking your brother to walk behind us?”

“Not a bit,” Lucie assured her. “Look at him. He’s quite distracted, reading.”

And he was. James had a book out and was calmly reading while he walked. Though he seemed entirely caught up in whatever he was perusing, he nevertheless skirted oncoming passers-by, the occasional rock or fallen branch, and once even a small boy holding a hoop, with admirable grace. Cordelia suspected that if she had tried such a stunt, she would have crashed into a tree.

“You’re so lucky,” Cordelia said, wistfully, still looking over her shoulder at James.

“Goodness me, why?” Lucie looked at her with wide eyes. Where James’ eyes were amber, Lucie’s were a pretty pale blue, a shade lighter than her father’s. The famous dark blue Herondale eyes had gone to Will’s sister’s children.

Cordelia’s head snapped back around. “Oh, because —“ Because you get to spend time with James every day? She doubted Lucie thought that was any special gift; one didn’t, when it was one’s family. “He’s such a good older brother. If I’d asked Alastair to walk ten paces behind me in a park he would have made sure to stick by my side the entire time just to be annoying.”

“Pfft!” Lucie exhaled. “Of course I adore Jamie but he’s been dreadful lately, ever since he fell in love.”

She might as well have dropped an incendiary device on Cordelia’s head. Everything seemed to fly apart around her. “He’s what?”

“Fallen in love,” Lucie repeated, with the look of someone enjoying imparting a bit of gossip. “Oh, he won’t say with who, of course, because it’s Jamie and he never tells us anything. But Father’s diagnosed him and he says it’s definitely love.”

“You make it sound like consumption.” Cordelia’s head was whirling with dismay. James in love? With who? The look he had given her when she stepped down from the carriage, perhaps she had imagined that?

“Well, it is a bit, isn’t it? He gets all pale and moody and stares off out of windows like Keats.”

“Did Keats stare out of windows? I don’t recall hearing that.”

Lucie plowed on, undeterred by the question of whether England’s foremost romantic poet did or did not stare out of windows. “He won’t say anything to anyone but Matthew, and Matthew is a tomb where James is concerned. I heard a bit of their conversation once by accident, though —“

“Accident?” Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

“I may have been hiding beneath a table,” said Lucie, with dignity. “But it was only because I had lost an earring and was looking for it.”

Cordelia suppressed a smile. “Go on.”

“He is definitely in love, and Matthew definitely thinks he is being foolish. He does not like her.“

CORDELIA, LUCIE & MATTHEW ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Cordelia clutched Lucie’s hand as they jolted through the streets in the Carstairs’ carriage, surrounded by the blurred traffic of omnibuses, motorcars, and pedestrians. Advertisements whirled past. THE HORSESHOE HOTEL. THREE GUINEA STOUT. NEW PALACE STEAMERS. Signs advertising tailors and fishmongers, hair tonic and cheap printing.

Matthew, sitting across from them on the upholstered carriage seat, was muttering and swearing to himself, his hair sticking out madly.

“Hidebound,” he muttered. “Weasels.”

“What?” said Lucie.

“I think he said hidebound weasels,” said Cordelia. “But who do you mean, Matthew? Are you angry at us?”

Matthew flung himself sideways so his long legs were pulled up on the bench seat in front of him, and his profile was presented to Lucie and Cordelia. It was a fine profile: he was much more delicate-featured than his brother, who had a broad, strong face. Matthew had a face that looked as if it had been meant to be painted on china.

“Of course not,” he said. “It’s just appalling how they all treat James.” He glanced at Cordelia, and then at Lucie. “She knows, doesn’t she?”

JAMES, TESSA & WILL ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

James could see his mother moving like an anxious pale star among the guests in her lilac dress, greeting each of them warmly, welcoming them to her home. She had not glamoured herself to look her husband’s age for the evening, and she appeared enormously young, though her hair was done up like a gracious older woman’s, not a girl’s. When Will materialized out of the crowd and came to put his arm around Tessa, smiling down at her, the gray at his temples flashed like silver. James looked away; he loved his parents for being extraordinary, but sometimes he also hated them for the same thing.

JAMES & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

James and Matthew separated, Matthew to dance with Lucie, and James to speak to his parents. Cordelia saw them glance over toward her and looked away quickly; still, she was not at all surprised when James appeared a moment later in front of her, flashing a smile at his aunt and uncle.

“Miss Carstairs,” he said, with a slight bow in Cordelia’s direction. “Would you favor me with this dance?”

“It’s a waltz,” said Cordelia’s mother, before Cordelia could speak. “My daughter does not know how to waltz.”

Cordelia bit her lip. She certainly knew how to dance: her mother had engaged an expert instructor to teach her the quadrille and the lancer, the stately minuet and the cotilion. But the waltz was a seductive dance, one where you could feel your partner’s body against yours, scandalous when it had first become popular.

She very much wanted to waltz with James.

JAMES & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

"Who's the boy tripping over his own feet?" Cordelia asked as the boy in question, a slender, ink-stained young man with spectacles and tousled brown curls, nearly careened into Lucie and Matthew.

"That's Christopher Lightwood. My cousin. Alas, Christopher is far more at home with beakers and test tubes than he is with female company. Let's just hope he doesn’t pitch poor Rosamund Townsend into the refreshment table."

"Is he in love with her?"

"Lord, no, barely knows her," said James. "Charles and Ariadne* are engaged, and Barbara Lightwood has an understanding with George** Hayward. Beyond that, I'm not sure I can think of any romances brewing in our set. Though having you and Alastair here might bring us some excitement, Daisy."

Her heart leaped. "I didn't realize you remembered that old nickname."

"What, Daisy?” He was holding her close as they danced: she could feel the heat of him all up and down her front, making her prickle all over. "Of course I remember it. I gave it to you. I hope you don't intend me to stop using it."

"Of course not. I like it." She forced herself not to move her gaze from his. Goodness, his eyes were startling up close. They were the color of golden syrup, almost shocking against the black of his pupils. She had heard the whispers, knew people found his eyes odd and alien, a sign of his difference. She thought they were lovely: the color of fire and gold, the way she imagined the heart of the sun. "Though I don't think it suits me. Daisy sounds like a pretty little girl in hair ribbons."

"Well," he said. "You are at least -"

He broke off. She heard the click as he swallowed: he was looking past her, at someone who had just come into the room. Cordelia followed his glance, and saw a tall woman, thin as a scarecrow and dressed in the black of mourning, with gray-streaked auburn hair done in the style of decades ago piled on her head. Tessa was hurrying toward her, a concerned look on her face. Will was following, and goodness, what did they both look so worried about?

As Tessa reached her, the woman stepped aside, revealing the girl who had been standing behind her. A girl, dressed all in ivory, with a soft waterfall of white-gold curls gathered back from her face. The girl moved forward gracefully to greet Tessa and Will, and as she did so, James dropped Cordelia's hands.

They were no longer dancing. Cordelia stood, frozen in confusion, as James turned away from her without a word and strode across the room toward the girl.

* in the original snippet, her name was Daphne, it’s been changed to Ariadne, confirmed.

** see next snippet

BARBARA & THOMAS ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Barbara patted Thomas, as if his brawny arm was a small boy’s head. “I was merely anxious about you, Tommy. Surely you are not vexed.”

Thomas’s brows were drawn sharply together, making his amiable countenance dark for the briefest interval. Then he sighed, drew his sister toward him in the circle of his arm, and stooped to press a kiss upon her brow.

“No, Babs,” he said. “Of course I am not vexed. Can you spare your brother a dance, though I know Oliver** will be loath to part with you? I will take care not to be clumsy.”  

** unsure if George’s name has been changed to Oliver or if they are even the same person.

THOMAS, CHRISTOPHER & GRACE ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“Christopher,” said Thomas. “Would you take James away immediately and show him an interesting scientific experiment?”

Christopher frowned. “Which one?”

“Any one at all!” said Thomas. “I will escort the ladies home.”

Christopher’s brow cleared. “Ah, I understand perfectly. This is what Matthew said we were to do, about not letting James out of our sight and above all else keeping him away from…”

He trailed off, gazing at Grace with distant alarm.

GRACE

Be careful what you say to me, Grace told him. There is nothing I cannot make you do.

[ popularly assumed to be JAMES talking to GRACE ]

"That was vile, what you made me do, and vile that you made me do it."

THOMAS & LUCIE ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Apprehension stole across Thomas’s face. “Lucie, you must not challenge Grace to a duel.”

“We shall see where the night takes us,” Lucie declared.

“Oh good,” said Thomas. “I see you intend to Herondale to the fullest.”

JAMES

Make a wish, Jamie

JAMES

"Stop!" James cried. He felt as if he were drowning. He had always been shy...

JAMES & BARBARA

The world had gone monochrome. James saw broken, black walls, a splintered floor, and dust that glittered like dull jewels scattered across the place where Barbara had fallen.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

James cried out. Lightning seemed to fork behind his vision, and suddenly he was back in Regent’s Park, kneeling on the grass. There was a firm grip on his shoulders. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” said an urgent voice, and James — his breath tearing in and out of his chest — tried to focus on what was in front of him.

Matthew.

Everything was blurred in that moment but Matthew’s face, his green eyes wide and dark and steady. Behind him moved other figures; they seemed in that moment like the shapes James had been finding in the clouds — inchoate and untouchable.

“Jamie, breathe,” Matthew said, and his voice was the only steady thing in a world turning upside down. It had been years since this had happened. Years. The horror of it happening in front of a crowd of people —

“Did they see me?” he said in a cracked voice. “Did they see me turn?”

“You didn’t,” Matthew said, “or at least, only a very little bit — perhaps just a bit fuzzy round the edges —“

“It’s not funny,” James said through his teeth, but Matthew’s humor acted like a slap of cold water; he opened his eyes fully, saw Thomas and Christopher looking down at him. They had positioned themselves so as to block him from the crowd at the lake’s edge.

“Get up,” Thomas said. “It’s the best thing you can do, James, we’ll tell them you tripped or fell.” His hazel eyes were anxious but his tone was reassuring. “Honestly all the attention was on Ariadne — “

Matthew’s hands on James’ shoulders turned into a grip on his arms, and James was hauled upright by his three best friends. Christopher produced a handkerchief from somewhere and began to dust his lapels.

“Chris,” said Matthew. He was the only person who ever used that nickname for Christopher besides Anna. “Stop. Who cares if he’s dusty? He was just invisible.”

“But he isn’t any more,” Christopher pointed out.

“We need to get you back to the Institute,” said Matthew to James in a low voice. “If you’re going to start suddenly going all — shadowy — for no reason, then the Silent Brothers —“

“Not the Silent Brothers,” said Thomas. “Just Zachariah.”

JAMES & MATTHEW

The whole way to the Fairchilds’ James had felt as if he were choking, and now he could breathe, the pressure on his chest easing. He couldn’t find words now, couldn’t do anything but clutch on to the front of Matthew’s shirt and put his head down on his shoulder.

JAMES & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Cordelia was alone in the hallway. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door to James’ room.

She had never been in a boy’s bedroom before, and it was quite a scandalous action to enter now, but the significance of it seemed small, swallowed up by her worry. James was half under the covers of the bed, moving restlessly from side to side, his face flushed with fever. His nightclothes clung to him, wet with sweat. It was a bright day outside and sunlight speared through the room, illuminating the bowls of burning herbs that Enoch had left behind.

James rolled toward her. His eyes, the color of sunlight, blinked open slowly. “Matthew?” he said. “Matthew, is that you?”

CORDELIA

A betraying hope swelled in her heart and for a moment she allowed herself to imagine being engaged to James, being welcomed into Lucie's family.

JAMES

The moonlight softened the harsh gold of James' eyes to a dark umber. How changed would his life have been if his eyes had not been a sign of his difference?

JAMES & CORDELIA

Cordelia blinked, bewildered. "James?"

"I suffered every thorn for you," he said. "I would again."

JAMES & UNKNOWN GIRL

"Hold my hand, James," she said.

WILL & JAMES ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

“Matthew told me what happened at the park,” Will muttered in a voice no one but James could hear. James shot a betrayed look at Matthew, who shrugged and gave him a half-smile. Matthew could be relied on to tattle on James if he thought it was for his own good. “Thank the Angel for Matthew and Thomas and Christopher.” He touched James’ face. “I regret ever having said that your generation was wasting its time with parties and boating and dancing. All I wish for you is to be able to amuse yourself in a pointless fashion during peace and never, ever be in danger.”  

ANNA & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

"To take tea with Anna Lightwood," said Cordelia. "She invited me."

CORDELIA

Cordelia felt her back stiffen. "I accepted the invitation," she said. "I will go."

ANNA & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Anna Lightwood lived on Percy Street, a small byway near Tottenham Court Road. It was made up of long rows of houses of red brick that all looked very much the same. Each had sash windows, white-painted doors, brick chimneys, a shallow set of steps and a fence about the servants’ entrance made of black wrought iron.

On the stairs in front of No. 30, a girl sat crying. She was a very fashionable girl, in a walking-dress of blue foulard with lace trimmings and acres of flounces about the skirt. She wore a head-band trimmed with silk roses, and they wobbled as she cried.

Cordelia checked the address she had written down again, hoping it would have changed. No, definitely Number 30. She sighed, squared her shoulders, and approached.

“Pardon me,” she said, as she reached the steps. The girl was blocking them completely; there was no way to politely edge past. “I’m here to see Anna Lightwood?”

The girl’s head jerked up. She was very pretty: blond and rosy-cheeked, though she’d been crying. She gave Cordelia a deeply wary look. “Who are you, then?”

“I, ah…” Cordelia peered more closely at the girl. Definitely a mundane: no marks, no glamour. “I’m her cousin?”

“Oh.” Some of the suspicion went out of the girl’s face. “I — I am here because —“ She went off in a fresh spate of tears.

“Might I enquire as to the problem? Is there something I can do?” Cordelia asked, though she rather dreaded finding out why as it seemed the sort of thing where she might have to come up with a solution.

“Anna,” the girl wept. “I loved her — I love her still! I would have given it all up for her, all of it, polite society and all its rules, just to be with her, but she has thrown me out like a dog on the street!”

“Now, Emmeline,” drawled a voice, and Cordelia looked up to see Anna leaning out of an upstairs window. She was wearing a man’s dressing gown in rich purple and gold brocade, and her hair was a cap of loose, short waves. “You can’t say you’ve been thrown out like a dog when you’ve got your mama, two butlers, and a footman coming for you.” She waved. “Hello, Cordelia.”

“Oh, dear,” said Cordelia, and patted Emmeline gently on the shoulder.

“Besides, Emmeline,” said Anna. “You’re to be married Wednesday. To a baronet.”

“I don’t want him!” Emmeline sprang to her feet. “I want you!”

“No,” said Anna. “You want a baronet.”

LUCIE & ALASTAIR ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

He might be Cordelia’s brother, but she did not like him above half.

Moreover, at the present moment, he presented the appearance of a lunatic. Beneath his unbuttoned coat his waistcoat was disarranged, and one side of his high wingtip collar was dreadfully askew. His improbably light hair was out of its usual careful shape, pomaded strands going wildly in all directions and glittering electric bright under an arc lamp. On Percy Street, the street lights were older and less reliable, their fierce yellow burn stripping them all down to harsh lines.

“You’ve lost your hat, Alastair,” said Lucie.

Alastair said: “I have lost my sister!”

Lucie went cold. “What do you mean? Has something happened to Cordelia?”

UNKNOWN GIRL

Does love mean anything to you, she said. Or is it just something people give you easily, the way you give toys to a child?

ANNA & GRACE

“I respect a heartbreaker,” said Anna. “People are better off without hearts anyway. But you don’t leave people better off. You’re not a heartbreaker, Grace Blackthorn. You’re a life destroyer.”

MATTHEW & ANNA

"Anna can seduce anyone," said Matthew.

ANNA

"Preferably not boys," said Anna, without looking up. "Then I have to pretend to be interested."

JAMES & ANNA

Anna raised her eyebrow at James as he turned away, but James ignored it. Anna had been raising her eyebrows at him all his life.

ANNA & COUSINS ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

Anna’s deep-blue eyes narrowed as she studied him. James was sitting on the edge of his chair, hands clasped together and leaning forward in Anna’s direction. These cousins looked more like brother and sister than James and Lucie, or Anna and Christopher. James’s face was chiseled and serious, while Anna’s features were sharp and roguish, but they shared the same coloring of crow-black hair and snow-white skin. More than that, both had an air of cleverness that seemed thrown up as a defense against sensitivity, sharp minds that shut away hearts too easily broken. Seeing the similarity made Cordelia wonder what had happened to Anna, and fear what might happen to James.

Anna flicked an eyebrow upward, a scratch of ink dashed across a page. “Ah yes, about that. Let me be perfectly clear what you are asking: you want me to seduce a pretty warlock in order to procure you an [item redacted for spoilers!]?”

Anna surveyed the room, and when she was answered with cautious nods she threw her hands into the air.

“You are off your heads, every one of you.”

“Can you not do it?” Thomas asked apprehensively.

Anna toyed with her watch chain so the chain caught the light and glittered. “Oh, I daresay I could.”

There was a collective moan lamenting Thomas’s stupidity in asking such a question. Lucie told Thomas he was a dolt. Thomas begged Anna’s pardon.

“Not at all, Thomas, I know you’re an innocent soul. That said,” Anna drawled, “I take many issues with your request. For a start, it is against my strict policy to seduce anybody twice.”

“Every outlaw must have a code,” James said.

ANNA

"No one ever just wants to have tea," said Anna. "Tea is always an excuse for a clandestine agenda."

ANNA

"Do you think he's in love?" Anna said. "People can be rather awful when they're in love."

MATTHEW

"But is it wise to prove James isn't a lunatic?" said Matthew.

ANNA

"You might leave that to me," said Anna.

LUCIE & GRACE

And there beside her was Grace. Lucie remembered Grace as a determinedly poised twelve-year-old but she was quite different now. Cold and lovely and statuesque.

TATIANA, GRACE, JAMES, LUCIE & CORDELIA ( CHAIN OF GOLD )

From where they were, they had a perfect view of James, standing straight and polite as Tatiana Blackthorn, wearing a faded fuschia dresses stained with dark spots, advanced on him, a witchlight torch in her hand.

“How dare you come here, Will Herondale,” she said, a savage tone to her voice. “What is left for you to destroy? You murdered my husband and my father —“

Lucie made a small whimpering noise. Cordelia clutched at her cold hand, squeezing it for comfort.

“That’s James.” It was Grace, dressed all in a long white nightgown with a white dressing-gown over it. White slippers covered her feet and her blonde hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. “It isn’t Mr. Herondale, Mama. It’s his son.”

LUCIE & JESSE*

He really did have a most arresting face, Lucie thought. She firmly believed it was all right to stare at people when you were a writer. Writers needed to gather material. That was all there was to it.

* not confirmed, but popularly assumed and not without good reason.

LUCIE & UNKNOWN PERSON

"Miss Herondale?" said a soft voice behind her.

[ most likely JESSE & LUCIE ]

But Lucie was staring at the boy who had come in with them. The boy who she had last seen in Brocelind Forest. Lucie was ten when she met the boy in the forest. Lucie looked for him in the forest after that, but she never saw him again. It would be ten years before she saw him again.

[ these snippets are actually separated but they flow well so I put them together. ]

JESSE

Jesse sighed and looked up at the chandelier. "I have two ages," he said. "I am twenty-four. And I am sixteen."

[ popularly assumed to be JESSE & LUCIE ]

"Can no one else see you?"

JAMES & LUCIE

James went white. "Lucie?"

CORDELIA & JAMES

Not tie him to the bed, Cordelia thought. Not cut his beautiful hair. She loved his hair: it was black like his father's, black as night, dark as a place you could tell secrets in.

ALASTAIR, CORDELIA & MRS BRIDGESTOCK

“Disgraceful,” said Mrs Bridgestock. “I know your face. You are that Persian boy. Are you not ashamed to be running around corrupting nice young people? I suppose you are only following your father’s example, but considering what happened to him, you should really know better.”

Cordelia wished to rush to her brother’s defense, but she did not dare move.

Alastair bared his teeth at Mrs Bridgestock. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

LUCIE & MATTHEW

A coat settled on Lucie’s shoulders, bottle green superfine and warm from the heat of Matthew’s body, smelling of expensive cologne. Lucie glanced up to see Matthew’s face above hers, limned by sunlight and the gold of his hair, serious for once as he carefully buttoned the coat closed. His hands were usually swift and bright with rings, flying through the air when he talked or to the curving hilt of his rapier when he fought, but now they were moving with great deliberation over such a small task. She heard him draw in a slow breath.

JAMES

James' heart lurched in his chest. "We were childhood friends."

UNKNOWN GIRL

"You lied to me," she said.

UNKNOWN BOY ( the person in the pin was a guy )

"You carry my life in those careless hands"

ANNA ( SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR, the pin was four boys )

"Delicate boys must be protected," said Anna.

UNKNOWN BOY

The house has all fallen down into ruins, he said.

UNKNOWN BOY AND GIRL ( in the pin, they both had dark/brown hair )

We could get married, she said.

JAMES & CORDELIA

To the last hour.

[ according to Cassandra Clare’s The Last Hours Pinterest board. The picture was a girl with red hair and a guy with black hair. Cordelia and James fit the description best. ]

UNKNOWN BOY AND GIRL

Death is not the end.

UNKNOWN BOY AND GIRL

The shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR

One for all and all for one.

TWO UNKNOWN BOYS

We had grown as gods, as the gods in heaven, souls fair to look upon, goodly to greet, one splendid spirit, your soul and mine.

SHADOWHUNTERS FOUR

All together, or not at all.

TWO UNKNOWN GIRLS

Thank you angels for ensuring she’s a good dancer, loves to dance and takes me out dancing.

[ unsure if the last five are actually snippets, it’s not in the Shadowhunters’ Wikia but it’s on Cassandra Clare’s The Last Hours Pinterest board so I just added them in. ]

[fictionerd]

Good to see you, friends!

Whether you’re reading this on Drive the day of the episode (Well kinda), or if you’re seeing this posted in the big surge of posts after the protest I bid you welcome. I’m going to try and untangle the unsorted sequence of events for this episode. I’ll admit that the unclear progression of events is as much frustrating as it is intriguing at times. We eventually get to a point where we see it all tie together, but while we’re in the throws of a storyline it’s hard to grasp what’s going on. So without further putting it off let’s try and get down to thee. Addition: I’m going to be posting all the recaps I wrote during my week away from the site throughout the next week rather than all at once. So here’s Boogiepop episode six.

Synopsis: Okay, the best I can tell the earliest thing to happen in the sequence of events this episode involves a character I’ve only mentioned offhandedly once: Kazuko Suema. She had agreed to help one of the girls who were tangentially involved in the Manticore stuff and spoke briefly with Kirima Nagi. She has or seems to have some knowledge of the true nature of BoogiePop and is known for being interested in Psychology. Good, now character brush-up is out of the way on to the events of the episode in chronological order to the best of my ability..

Suema is studying with Touka (Aka Boogiepop’s host) when our crazy counselor buddy Rin’s cousin drops by to have a chat with her. The girl is worried about her cuz who seems to no longer be worried about anything. Before he’d always had something weighing on his mind, but lately he’s seemed as though he’s no longer afraid of anything. He’s also been away from home at night which further worries her especially since she’s found mysterious dark stains on his clothes the next day. Stains that seem suspiciously like bloodstains. Suema’s curiosity is caught by the situation, much the same way it was with the girl involved in the Manticore stuff, and so she agrees to help.

Suema then proceeds to sneak into Rin’s office after-hours and finds a picture of Suiko, the girl who houses Imaginator who supposedly committed suicide. Before she can find anything else, though Rin comes to the office with two girls in tow. They’re talking about some mysterious “thing” they’re doing and how “everyone else” has done it”. After some reluctance both girls agree and strip off their shirts (Why this is necessary given what he does I don’t know). Jin seemingly uses Imaginator’s power to adjust the roses he sees in each of the girls which alters their behavior and outlook

Time for speculation: I’m guessing that since Jin is doing this with multiple students at a time, what he’s doing is trading and balancing different parts of the rose between the various students. Though there is also some mileage in the idea that he’s simply stripping the thorns from the roses signifying him taking away their worries and fears. Since the girls who exit his office in this scene do say that they no longer feel afraid and like they could change the world for him.

Having been exposed to some supernatural fuckery naturally what Suema latches onto is the sketch she found of the girl who committed suicide. She decides to come to ask around school about Suiko with help from Touka, but they are put off by the crowd of new students coming in as well as Touka straight-up fleeing when she sees twintail girl from the Manticore arc. Twintail Girl (Niitoki) approaches Suema and they have a brief conversation about why Touka is avoiding her. The logical excuse is that Keiji from Episode one had once rejected Niitoki in favor of Touka, but there’s also the possibility it’s because,

Any further conversation on this topic is curtailed as we see our pal Anou at some point in the middle of his plot thread from last episode arriving at Shinyo for the first time. He has a weird episode where his mind is trying to remind him that he still has emotions and he can’t process it because of Spooky E’s brainwashing. He gets rushed off taking Niitoki with the group.

Suema is left confused and looking for answers in her own head. She can’t get the image of Suiko out of her head. She finds she has trouble trying to understand the mind of some one who would commit suicide. Then as fate might have it who does she run into on the roof of the school clearly contemplating leaping off but Orihata the weird girl who’s in league with the big bad mystery organization.

Suema does her best to talk Orihata down, but it’s kind of a stock speech ending on the note of how the act of suicide is ultimately useless and how she can’t jump now because Suema found her. While the logic of Suema’s arguments is shaky at best it manages to get Orihata to back away from the railing. This is when the two conversations that DOMINATE this episode start bleeding back and forth and I’m going to try and summarize their contents.

Orihata asks Suema what she thinks of Boogiepop. I’m going to copy down the meat of Suema’s response verbatim (or as verbatim as I can get it)

“Imagery like reapers and stuff like that is pretty common. It’s typical adolescent imagery. Everyone’s anxious about something, so sometimes they feel like they want everything around them to be destroyed. Adults say irresponsible things like, those periods of anxiety are just a phase and we’ll all get over it, but it’s never that easy of course. That’s why Boogiepop exists. I think that’s why the exist. To protect an unstable heart and keep it like that.”

Orihata’s response to this is that she doesn’t believe they’ll protect her. She changes the subject to Masaki. Though she doesn’t give his name she explains the broad strokes of the situation. That she thinks he’s in love with her, but she doesn’t feel she can do something like that (Translation: She doesn’t think she deserves it). How she’s doing nothing but causing trouble for him and if things keep up the way they are he’ll end up hating her. She states outright that she’s not supposed to let anyone hate her, and Suema puts her foot down. She tells Orihata that no one goes through life without someone hating them. That it’s just part of living and she needs to let go fo the idea that she can’t let that happen. She needs to break free of these rules she’s set in place for herself. To allow herself to simply live to be free of the chains of “common sense”. She needs to fight against that self-defeating attitude of trying to ensure that no one hates her.

Little does Suema know, of course, that these rules may not be self-imposed. This is speculation again but I believe it’s been hinted that Orihata, being made by the Towa organization, was given strict orders to be liked and go as unnoticed as she could.

As they part ways Orihata asks Suema if she should fight even if it means she’s fighting against Boogiepop and Suema tells her to always fight.

With ALL that out of the way we finally reach the FIRST EVENTS WE SEE at the top of the episode which pick up from Spooky E finding Orihata (aka Camille) sitting in the park. He gets the low-down on how she’s here to see a guy. Assumes is because he wants to sleep with her and tells her to hurry it up so she can focus on their mission. Her job is to find Boogiepop for the organization. He grabs her by the throat (In one hand, seriously the dude is freaking massive) and threatens her, but that’s when Masaki shows up. He takes on the hulking brute and even manages to get a hit or two in, but it ultimately ends with Spooky E revealing he has no balls to be kicked and Zapping the memory of their encounter out of Masaki’s head.

The boy wakes up lying on the bench with his head in Orihata’s lap. He remembers they’re supposed to be celebrating and asks Orihata what he can do for her. At first she asks him to get information about Boogiepop since he’s popular with the local girls. She tells him the “Boogiepop is a grim reaper who kills girls while they’re at the height of beauty” rumor and He’s utterly confused. Especially when she then asks him to BECOME Boogiepop.

She explains that she’d heard from other people that Boogiepop is actually a defender. That they protect people, and this is why I think this conversation happens after the one with Suema. Since there are very few people in the story who would characterize Boogiepop that way, and only Suema has interacted with Orihata to our knowledge. Basically what this amounts to is Orihata asking Masaki to protect her, to keep her safe. At least that’s my interpretation. She obviously doesn’t like the situation she’s in with Towa and wants to be free to love Masaki, but so long as she’s under their thumb she can’t do that. When she suddenly realizes what she’s asking Masaki she takes it back and apologizes. As she turns to leave Masaki grabs her arm and says he’ll do it. He doesn’t fully understand, but if there’s something he can do to help then he’ll do it.

Thoughts: Phew that was a lot to get through. I should note that the conversations Orihata had with Suema and Masaki were interwoven with each other in the actual episode. We saw a snippet of one that bled into a snippet of the other. The episode actually ends on Suema telling Orihata to Fight no matter what. I am left pleasantly confused by this whole ordeal as per usual with this series.

I want to also note since I didn’t in the actual synopsis that when the cousin comes to speak with Suema near the beginning of the episode it seems that Touka switches to Boogiepop mode. There’s a definite difference in how the seiyuu voices Boogiepop vs normal Touka. A sort of methodical formality and weariness to her tone contrasted against the more energetic Touka. There’s this switch-flip moment where the voice changes and it takes a second to realize it’s Boogiepop suggesting Suema help the girl and not Touka. Very nice.

Shit this series just keeps getting better and better. Well I believe that’s all I have for the moment. This series is honestly hard to write about. It’s intriguing and the basketweave timeline can be a bitch to puzzle through. I don’t feel like snarking it since it’s legit good, and I don’t really have any deep insights to give because I still don’t have enough of a full picture to really comment. Still I don’t wanna just drop posting about it because, again, it’s GOOD! Seriously my synopsis of the episode’s contents are no substitute for watching it yourself. If you aren’t already I HIGHLY suggest checking the series out.

Until next post keep talking fiction, friends. I’ll see you soon.

[softlyspunsilver]

Snippet where shikako meet Todori-Kakashi

“This is beyond ridiculous” Shikako mutter looking out from the dirty alleyway into the streets.  The few people passing by at this time of night was taking clan traits to a new level.   And looking at one individual with snake hair, possibly clan traits time 100%

“Well there goes my hope of this being modern Japan.  Or at least modern Japan from my original world “ mused Shikako.  “Lets hope the internet is the same. And that libraries still exist.”

—

There a hokage.

There is a god damn hokage.

not the easiest to find but some digging into the world of hero and villains lead straight to the grey side of vigilantes.    This site.   This site while being criticised by every hero out there was run by a hokage.   “This could be more like kohona then I thought.”  Muttered shikako as she hit send.

To anyone it would be random letters and symbol.   To anyone not trailed in basic level Kohona messages.  Anyone chunnin and above needed a basic understanding of this level of code.  This was always the first one taught, and then they came out with a new version every so often but this version I sent to this person claiming the title of hokage. This is always the first level.

Even if they are simply someone trying to get noticed they are a start.   I have noticed.   Hopefully you can help me get home.

—-

Translated

To the honoured hokage

Leader of kohona

If you are loyal to Kohona and willing to assist its ninja let us meet.

Do you know a good place where the Will of Fire can be seen?

The Nara Clan offers its assistance in return.

—-

“Hey Shouto, we are planning to train a bit tomorrow at the UA pools! We are allow to use our quirks and everything! You in?” kiminari asked loudly before he could slip out the door.

“ Hmmm,” Todoroki eye smiled at the kiminari and the other males from the class that were excited for some quirk friendly competing “ I afraid I have plans this weekend. Next time. “ he turned and waved over his shoulder as he left.

“ehhhh what are you guys up to then? I thought you were coming along? “ Denki moaned to Shoji

“We have no plans. “ responded Shoji

“Well other than the training at the pool we already agreed on” Sato reminded hm.

“ Todoroki could have his own training planned guys or .. or family stuff you know?!?” Midoriya tried to distract “ Either way training at the pool seems like a perfect way to enhance our quirks and, “  The muttering of midoriya’s planned training for everyone was a workable distraction.

But there was no distractions when Todoroki didn’t respond to any texts and phone calls.

When the school week came around it became clear that last conversation was the last time anyone has seen or heard from him.

—-

“his sister”. 

“Had no plans with him, last spoke with him on Wednesday”

“ Brothers”

“No plans, last conversation was apparently at endeavours residence”

“And endeavour..” Almighty trailed off, That was one harsh glare “ of course you have already checked that.” All might force out a laugh

“I checked Endeavours whereabouts when todoroki went missing so Yes, Endeavours cleared.”

“clearly if any of our students knew anything they would have mentioned…” all might muttered

Aizawa narrowed his eyes at the symbol of peace as he completely ignored the Endeavour situation.

“ He had plans this weekend, that was it. The tracking of his phone have proven inconclusive so its either off or in a location with zero cell service. “ Aizawa rubbed his eyes, and looked back down to his phone “ Tech-heroes are trying to see if they can find where he went by security footage.  Hopefully it will turn up something soon.”

“ He wants to be a hero Eraser-Head!  He will be fine!” Claimed all might pulling up to his muscled form.

“ Yeah keep that up for the kids will you, they are already planing a search party tonight” Aziwa rolled him eyes and started for the door, it was time to start searching to street again for his problematic student.

All might coughed at that and shrunk back down to his smaller form “WHAT! Do they not understand that they do not have there licences yet!”

“oh they understand” Aizawa turn back to glare at All might “ They don’t care.  They are coming off Bokugo being kidnapped by the league of villains, That someone has decided to take Todoroki so soon after doesn’t leave then with much interpretation”

“To say its the league is too much at this time!” Said All might shaking his head.

“yeah, but that’s what happens when heroes are working off limited information. Its a good lesson for them.” 

“Lesson, Aizawa there friend is missing!”

“ And they are working on plan with missing information,” Aizawa was cut off as president mic rushed through the door 

“ The last few texts tech - heroes have managed to pull off was a meeting place and time early in the morning to an number with no contact information.” He passed the tablet with the copy of the texts to Aizawa.   “The number belongs to a student from a local middle school student who reported it missing after school.  Said student has never had any contact with todoroki or any online friends so the number shouldn’t have created any trust for him to go meet them.” President mic stared at the screen with the video image of Todoroki waiting infront of a war memorial.  The most famous one in the area, for all the world war’s victims over multiple wars on and off Japan’s soil.

“ Weird location for date.” Muttered all might as he glared at the screen.

“ Its not a date” Hissed Aizawa “shadows don’t move like that.”

And they watched as Todoroki got up and walked off screen

-

“So a nara”

“Yep”

“how come your charka works here? I got the whole quirk thing.” Asked todo-kakashi - oh this is going to be hard

“ I think its because my body is still from kohona even though I’m not in the right place its still going to keep producing charka to keep me alive.”

“handy”

“so your jealous is what your saying.” The nano, Kako glance over at his with an amused smile.  Like it was expected.  She was the same as she waited for him to clear each corner of the alleyways before they headed down.  She expects his style of paranoia as a fellow shinobi would.

“you’re not from my kohona,” to be honest kakashi didn’t even know why he was surprised.  Oh course she wasn’t.  There had been no one at any other point, for one to turn up now it makes sense that she’s from a completely different life. “ Well I hope that stays true for the next few years.  Make sure Danzo doesn’t take over, it turns out terrible for everyone.” He deserves to warn them of this at least, everything else he could say sounds crazy and paranoid but Danzo being a dick.  100% beleivable.  Unless she is root but then he’s screwed anyway.

“ Oh so Danzo fucked up your version of kohona.  Great all my nightmares coming true.  No problem.” She sighed “Only one universe where he’s a nice guy, and that was the freakiest one” She shuddered and wrapped her arm arround herself.  He could almost feel his one eye bulge out of his head.  Danzo…. Nice?  What weird world that would be.  Nicer, but still disturbing.

“Do you need help with anything before you help me? Its only fair after all.” Shikako was definitely a nara, all slouched over and looking at him with party shut eyes in the middle of a random dirty alley.  Body language screaming ‘ it will be so troublesome but I guess I have to ask…’

God he hadn’t released how much he’s missed the Nara clan.

“  There is a little issue with a gang I’m having a hard time with.”

“oh really” she grinned and repositioned herself at parade rest “What’s the mission Hokage-sama?”

-

Aizawa ran across the rooftops with president mic close behind him.  He was exhausted they all were but things just kept escalating.

In just four days things have gotten out of hand.

Torodoki missing and yet to be found

Investigation into the eight precepts of death set back by months by an explosion happy vigilante or rival gang

And now this.

The sky above Japan had split open. Only for a second.  But a quirk powerful enough to open up the sky for who know what purpose.  Well, that kind of quirk has to be looked at to make sure it isn’t in the hands of a villain.  It could be a start to a brand new plot after all.

Finding the centre would be impossible was it not for the concerned citizens calling about an earth quake.  An Earth quake effecting one block of housing.   The chances of the quirk originating from here was high.

Hence, Eraser-head was called off the hunt for his student and ordered to head straight here.

Evacuations had already begun on the buildings but the one that was most damaged held the pro heroes attention.  The abandoned building was surround by police and pro-heroes waiting for the clearance to engage.

One pro-hero, a sensor able to track heart beats, was making her way through the crowd “Eraser good your here,” she grinned flashing her fangs and love heart face paint “Could be a villain or just an out of control quirk at this point.  Only one heart beat in that building’s basement. Its not moving and pretty slow, so either they have a physical quirk to slow the heart rate down or they are unconscious”

Eraser quickly nodded and headed off to the building letting president mic kept slight behind him to take anyone out in combat quickly once Easer has cancelled their quirk.

The hallways were silent as they quickly made there way to the collapsed stairs and jumped straight to the bottom.  There were two sleeping bags tucked in the corner and some non-perishable food. Eraser made a notice to look out for any accomplices incase one had a way of disguising there heartbeat.  Rare but possible.   

But through the next door there wasn’t any enemies.

The room smelt heavily of blood.  Blood and paint.   There were symbols drawn on every surface of the floor and in the centre was Todoroki.

—-

“In the end the medical result wasn’t as bad as we thought” kakashi mused, “ surprised her blood plus mine was enough to get her home to be honest.”

“Todoroki, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Officer Naomasa said, but the tightening of his hand on his notebook and Aizawa narrowed eyes showed how off put they are.

“She need some my blood to go home.  But you can only take so much before you pass out.”  He knows Office Naomasa quirk.  He need to keep this factly true.  Or at least true from a certain point of view, otherwise UA will not be an option any longer 

“And where is her home Torodoki?”

“Kohona.”  Aizawa pulled out his phone.  The search engine is generally helpful but he’s googled kohona time and time again.  There is nothing there to find

“Todoroki,” Aizawa makes sure he make eye contact despite, kakashi trying to avoid it. “kohona doesn’t exist.”

“It does.” He has to insist so the next question will be..

“how do you know it exists Todoroki?” Naomasa asks keep his tone level and patient

“Nara and I were trained in Kohona.” Naomasa breathed in sharply.  

“oh did you, I thought you Trained at UA”

“before UA”

“so she’s an old friend”

“mmmhmmmm”

“and now she’s back at kohona because you put both your blood into the paint, which almost resulted in you bleeding out?”

“ The symbols were important too but fundamentally yes.” Naomasa gave him a small strained smile 

“I’ll be talking with some of your teachers Todoroki, please stay in bed while you recover.” Officer Naomasa rose to his feet and held open the door for Aizawa and after a awkward eye contact that Todoroki doesn’t think he will even understand, Aizawa left.  Naomasa turned right before he went out himself “ No trips back to Kohona planned then Todoroki.” 

“ Ah no officer, I am afraid I got a bit lost on the road of life and have forgotten the way.”  He eye smiled hard at the officer as he wished him a nice afternoon and dropped it once he had left.

He got a Nara home and helped her rescue a little girl held captive by monsters.

“Its been a great weekend” Todo-kashi thought as he fell back asleep.

—-

[nissakii]

Scent. a Haikyu!! Fanfiction pt.38

[want to read all chapters right now? Our fanfictions get updated every monday and earlier on our blog, click here to continue reading!]

“Do you know a Mikoto?”, I asked him with a smile.

“Mikoto Oihara? Biochem major?”, he replied as his eyes popped open in shock.

Oh?

“Yes exactly! I was sure I heard your name before, so you’re that infamous guy”, I mused and thought of all the things Mikoto had already told me about him. A flash of memories, told snippets in conversation and other information flooded my senses like data in a memory card and I puzzled my assumptions carefully before continuing.

As far as I knew, he was obviously an alpha by that rippling coffee scent around him which I could even detect with my blocker on, I guess I should take another dose, and he was a frequent research partner in the biochemistry lab Mikoto would attend a lot.

I also heard from him on other occasions through Kuroo who would tell me about the roster of the volleyball varsity teams. From what I could gather, he was a very witty and generally caring person with a couple of nicks of incidents as did every other alpha as well.

Now that I think of it, Mikoto only ever spoke very lightly and positively about ‘someone from her class’ if ever, and only recently put a name to it.

Already, my instinct was tingling to dig a little deeper, but then again…

This is none of my business.

“Infamous? Do I have a reputation?”

I could see he was smiling, but his eyes closed and something didn’t feel genuine about that. Was he afraid of what others thought of him? Or just irritated that I might have implied something negative?

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that I used to play volleyball too and I have a friend on your team so I heard from you before. You got that killer serve right?”

It’s always hard to see how flattery works with different people. If I’m totally honest, it works with most Alphas, since they often harbour much pride and enjoy even on the most minute level.

“Ah, no way ‘killer’ is a bit much but thank you, may I ask who is that friend?”

Humble, so maybe I was wrong about the massive ego…

“It’s Kuroo Tetsuro, he’s working as assistant coach for the B-team as far as I know”, It reminded me to make an appointment for him to check his shoulder again.

“Really? How do you know Kuroo?”

“Oh, just some classes that we shared and well we kinda got along”

“I’ve known him since high school. It's baffling that we haven’t met yet!”

“Small world man”, I mumbled back since the lecture started and it became almost impossible to have a conversation since this professor made sure that every murmur was squashed immediately.

With time stretching like a piece of gum on a sidewalk, I made sure to just reread my own notes as the professor got stuck on an explanation of something that wasn’t even relevant to the exam.

Why would you spend extra time on that?!

“And so uhm, yes where was I-”

The bell interrupted the professor's speech and as much as he still tried to talk over the crows that started to scatter down the stairs it was impossible. I smiled to myself as I watched him try to carry on but it was too late.

I marked in my head to never schedule a class with this professor again. Luckily enough, attendance wasn’t mandatory and he seemed to almost just reread his own presentations so I could work this class off on my own.

As I grabbed my notes and stuffed them into my shoulder bag as I caught a glimpse of Oikawa looking at me.

Do I want to do this?

I propped my head up and looked to face him.

Was I wrong to assume that there was something off about him? As if he was waiting for me to say something? I didn’t expect someone like Oikawa to be shy to speak his mind, but his eyes searched for the floor way too many times when I looked at him during the lecture, and his gaze often drifted into nothingness.

I don’t know this guy, but his scent and body language speaks volumes.

Or maybe it was just me being used to interpreting the moods of others all the time.

Especially Alphas.

“That was boring right?”, he cocked a brow and smiled which I could only reciprocate.

“To be honest, I’ve had a lot of boring classes but this one took the cake”

With a swift motion he threw his backpack over his shoulder and nodded, “At Least there’s no mandatory attendance”

“Yeah”, I reiterated.

Where is this going?

“So, what are you doing now? Any more classes?”

Ah, there it is.

“Uh, yeah I have the next one in a couple of hours so I will probably head to the infirmary before”

Oikawa stopped in his tracks for a moment, turned towards me with his whole body as I seemingly caught his genuine attention now.

“Do you work in healthcare?”

“Nursing to be specific but yeah, why?”

It seemed that I was right about his mood, something was bothering him. Is he trying to find a good way to ask me something?

Oh god, did I overdo it again? Is he just another alpha who-

“It’s about something I would like to find out more about, since you’re an omega and you work in healthcare I thought you might know?”

What is the correlation here? This could be a normal topic of conversation or go into a very uncomfortable direction really quickly, and the fact that I can't really know made me nervous.

“Have you heard about well”, he stopped for a moment to get a little closer and lower his voice, “heat suppressants being used as a drug for Alphas?”

Oh god.

Oh my god.

I immediately retarted and took a few steps back, but the lecture hall was still filled with students so I wasn’t alone.

He wanted drugs? No way.

Isn’t he an athlete?

I can’t show any sign of fear now.

“I have”, I calmly answered, “but I can’t help you with that. It is illegal to use them for such purposes”.

Now it was Oikawa’s turn to back up.

“Oh, oh no no! That’s not what I-”, he ruffled through his hair and then looked back at me, “I would never want that no I just, I wanted to know if you had any information on that since well I saw people talk about it and I couldn’t believe it you know”.

My entire body relaxed, and I rubbed my cold hands together to create some warmth for them.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it. It happens a lot sadly”

“Really? What happens if alphas take it? Why would they?”, he sounded genuinely confused, which almost made me laugh in irony.

Was he actually confused by it or did he just never think of this issue?

“It’s not the first time it happened, I mean I heard that it's really trendy for alphas to take a specific brand of heat suppressants but I mean it’s not like it hasn’t happened before?”, I cocked my head to the side to take in Oikawa’s troubled expression.

He was quiet for a moment, as If he had to decipher this thought in his mind first, not quite realising what it truly entailed.

Then he looked up at me again.

“Do you have time for a drink right now?”

[pottercrew]

Change pt 2

This is the continuation to this snippet (I tried to make it open in a new tab but I’m pants at this stuff) that I posted last month. I hope you like it. All snippets and continuations will be added to my pottercrewsnippets page and tag if you want to find them! (BTW I have no beta so if there are mistakes please tell me and I’ll fix them) Hope you enjoy <3

Malfoy,

I’m sorry about the other day, please let me explain.

H.

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

Malfoy,

I tried to visit but the wards are too strong, please, I'm sorry let me explain, I want to do it face to face.

H.

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

Malfoy it's been weeks please let me know you're okay

H

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

For fucks sake Draco! Where the fuck are you? I know you're getting these as Alexander comes back empty handed! Just let me know you are okay! I'm shit at this fuck

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

Draco please

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

Draco Malfoy,

I hope all is well, I heard about your mastery, congrats.  

Harry J Potter

Eight years later

“No”

“What do you mean no?”     

“I mean no Potter, as in, no, you are not getting a sign off to get Acromantula venom for whatever the hell you want to use it for” Draco sighed, and he gave Harry a droll stare over the small green garden table they were sitting at. He noticed Granger and Blaise trade a confused look at each other over his and Potter’s conversation. He couldn’t say he was surprised. They didn’t know the amount he and Potter had to interact at work, this was probably the first time they had seen them interact since the trials years ago and he couldn’t blame them for their concern, but this was nothing new for him, hadn’t been for over five years now. Or earlier a small voice in the back of his supplied, but Draco quickly squashed it, he wasn’t going there, was going to think about those months after the war.

Potter rested his head on his hand and sighed, looking up at Draco through his lashes, like that would work now. Potter had pulled that one on him the third time he had come storming into his lab asking for forbidden substances and Draco had been so mad he had refused Potter entry to his lab for a month and heavily threatened his staff with redundancy if any let him in. “Please”

Draco just snorted “No” and took a sip of his tea, placing it gently back down on the table. That look never worked on him and Potter knew it, he was being smug about something, and Draco was instantly suspicious. When Potter wanted something for whatever the hell he did, he always had something to trade with Draco to get it. Unfortunately, Draco knew Potter knew what he wanted, or what he could give him to get what he wanted and Draco knew better than to think Potter wouldn’t go that far. But when Potter threw himself back into his patio chair with the look a fake annoyance that Draco knew so well, he knew he was beaten.

“Would you sign it off if I told you I have a fully signed and approved order form for a small amount of unicorn blood, purely for ministry testing?” He said, admiring his nails and Draco felt himself freeze, tea cup halfway to his lips. The bastard knew he would say yes to that, he knew how much Draco needed that rare ingredient for his current tests into the potions he was currently going over for his ministry quota.

“My office at 10:30 and you’ll have your damn venom” He said before taking the sip he was going to.

“Thank you” Potter smiled, and Draco had to look away at the rush of satisfaction that flooded him when he realised he had made Potter genuinely smile. He really needed to get over this stupid little crush on the boy who lived.

He looked around the back garden they were all currently residing in, hoping it would take his mind of off the way the tips of Potter’s canines showed when he smiled. They were here for Luna’s birthday, she had gathered them all at a beautiful magical hotel in the middle of London surrounded by magically hidden fauna rising high and giving the backspace they were sitting in a secluded feel, contrasting the size of the garden space that had to be a quidditch pitch long and wide, with two lily pad ridden ponds randomly placed.

Luna had invited everyone she could from the looks of it, not that Draco minded, no one could say no to Luna, she deserved the world and everyone would give it to her if she asked. Speaking of the birthday girl, Draco saw her socialising with a group of witches he didn’t know (something that his father would be rolling in his grave about as he made it his life’s goal to know everyone of importance) by one of the small ponds. Her deep purple dress set off her shining blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders and back, looking like a fairy, well, the muggle interpretation of the fey, especially with the backdrop of such diverse plant life.

Draco’s attention snapped back to the table he was sitting at when he felt a small kick to his shin. Blaise and Pansy were looking at him like he had a third head and he knew instantly what it would be about when he noticed the absence of Potter and Granger who must have left while he was watching the host.

“What the hell was that?” Pansy whispered, eyes narrowed slightly “Kept this little friendship between you and Potter rather quiet haven’t we?” She teased before taking a sip of tea. Draco knew she wasn’t mad, there would be no reason for her to be, they were all adults now and Draco had seen her talking to Granger earlier so she really couldn’t say anything.

“Oh please Pans” Balise said, leaning back in his chair, “we both know what’s going on here, how could we not?” At the look he and Pansy shared Draco felt himself becoming defensive, something he never normally was with these two, and something he knew they would notice. He took a slight breath before schooling his face into the most aloof expression he could.

“And what would that be?” He asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Pansy smirked “Like you don’t know what we’re going to say Draco, we’ve been teasing you about it since sixth year”

Draco just rolled his eyes, picking up his cup and taking another sip, it wasn’t his fault that his eyes drifted to where Potter was standing next to Granger talking to yet another witch Draco couldn’t name. And it definitely wasn’t his fault when he found his eyes glued onto the spot where the back of Potter’s top drew up when he rubbed the back of his head, revealing something black peeking out-

“See” Pansy huffed and Blaise laughed shaking his head. “Potter isn’t the only attractive man in the world Draco”

“Oh so you admit Potter’s attractive then?” Blaise asked his brows raising and Draco could tell this was an argument from a previous conversation that he did not want anything to do with.

“Fine, yes I admit it but come on, look at him” Pansy explained, waving a hand towards Potter’s direction. Blaise did, and Draco watched his dark eyes sweep Potter’s body.

“Oh I know he is Pans” Blaise drawled and Draco rolled his eyes. These two were insufferable, before Pansy could answer however, Potter was back and he fell back into the spare chair by Draco, head flopping back.

“You would not believe how much Jillian Greenbanks talks” He moaned, flopping his head back forwards and Draco had to curl his hand around the arm of his chair to stop himself from pushing back the dark hair that fell into Potter’s face.

“Well Potter, I’m sure she was just so enamoured to be talking to the chosen one and all” Draco quipped.

Potter just snorted, pouring himself more tea from the self warming tea pot in the middle of the table. “Well she should go be enamoured with Ron or Moine” He mumbled, dropping two sugar cubes into his cup and giving it a stir.

“Yes well I’m sure she would have gotten a better conversation out of either of them two” Draco responded, watching the way Potter’s fingers wrapped around the cup and not the small handle.

“Yep” Potter agreed, taking a long sip from his cup. He was just about to say something else until a crack of apparition filled the garden.

Draco turned to look, along with everyone else and was quite surprised to see a woman, clad in all black standing by the foot of the stairs leading into the hotel. What was most striking however, was the fabric mouth cover she wore that blended into the neck of her robes, her mouth and nose covered showing only her deep dark eyes staring straight towards their table. She had black hair tied up neatly in a bun making her look like a ballerina but Draco knew better. Draco had never seen anyone dressed like this but he had heard of it, with black robes fit so tightly against her body it was almost scandalous but Draco knew combat fabric when he saw it. She was a hit wizard, that he knew at least, however that wasn’t helpful seeming as the term ‘hit wizard’ was an umbrella term for a number of different jobs, kind of like unspeakable. What held Draco’s attention most of all however, was the sigh that left Potter’s mouth when he caught sight of her.

Potter stood up, and everyone’s gaze went to him, then back to the mystery woman. He just headed over to Luna, a look of guilt on his face. “I’m sorry Luna” He said, rubbing the back of his neck “Work and all”.

Luna just smiled, waving her hand “It’s no problem Harry” She said, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I’ll be back for dinner” Potter said a look of determination in his eyes “I promise”.

Luna beamed, hugging Potter quickly “You better Harry James”

Potter smiled at her one last time before heading towards the woman, who’s eyes look sympathetic.

“I’m sorry Cap, they wanted you in at seven this morning and I was able to push it back till now”

Potter just shook his head, his eyes looking troubled “You shouldn’t have had to” His voice was soft and Draco felt more curious than he ever had before about what Potter did for the ministry. As quickly as the woman had appeared, her and Potter disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

The sound of conversation built slowly back up again around him and Draco felt his eyes going to Granger and the look of worry etched into her features. Did she know what Potter did? Did she know why he was so scarred? So secretive? So different, mature and intense from the boy they had both known from Hogwarts. From the looks of it, she did not, and Draco knew it bothered her, like it bothered him.

The rest of the lunch went by just as slowly and uneventfully as it had started, but not in a boring way, in one of those ways that had you pleasantly relaxed and both looking forwards to what was next and wanting to stay in the haze of what you were doing.

By the time dinner rolled around Draco was feeling a bit more lively, his curiosity about Potter had faded to the back of his mind. Or so he thought. It came flooding back however as he was sat staring at Potter’s empty dinner seat across from him on the great table that Luna had set up in the hotel’s dining area. It was lovely, all pastel blues and pinks fading into each other. But the empty chair seemed to take something away from the evening, so did Granger’s worried looks aimed at said chair.   

He sat back in his chair and saw Pansy wink at him from up the table and he couldn’t help but smirk back at her. She was chatting up one of the witches Luna had been talking to most of the day and from the way the witch was eyeing Pansy, it looked like it was going well. Not that he could blame her. Pansy did look stunning tonight, well, she did have his and Blaise’s help all afternoon in her room helping her pick something to wear. She had declared her mission for the night and neither had anything better to do than to help her. Her flowing red dress and sharp red lipstick were hard to look away from, added with a necklace that plunged down her revealed cleavage and her curled bob and the witch had no chance.

He heard a slight cough next to him and turned towards Neville who had just sat down in the seat next to his, an easy smile on his face as he looked at Draco and Draco found himself returning it. He and Neville had shared an easy friendship ever since they had both gone back to Hogwarts to complete their apprenticeships a year after the war. It had been tense at first, seeming as only a few had come back and they had to share a common room, but slowly as the years passed, they managed to create something akin to friendships between their lessons. Now Draco saw Neville at least once a month at the Three Broomsticks when Neville got a weekend off from his professor duties.

“Still regretting not taking the potions professor position Draco?” Neville joked, placing his napkin on his lap.

“Merlin no, working with the ministry and everything they throw at me is a hundred times better than teaching third years thanks ever so” Draco laughed, fully turning towards Neville now. They joked about this quite often and Draco knew Neville was still a bit disappointed in him not working with him at Hogwarts but Draco just couldn't bring himself to. It would have been nice, teaching in one of the only places he had been able to slightly avoid his father when he was younger, but there were too many memories, too many painful emotions there that he just couldnt take the job when it was offered to him.

So now he worked in his own lab at the ministry as potions master, signing off and making potions for the different departments to use. It was a good job, one that Draco loved, a little too much if anyone was to ask any of his friends, the pay was good and so was the fact that he had a number of staff to boss around. He ignored the part of his brain that said there was another reason why it was good involving the man who was currently absent and focused on what Neville was saying.

“Crazy kids this year I swear they get worse every year. You wouldn’t believe all the new rules Mcgonagall has had to introduce just this term, you lucked out”

Draco arched a brow “Really?” He asked, that was another reason he was glad not to be teaching. He really didn’t know whether he could handle a classroom full of kids, not like Neville.

Neville, Draco had came to notice over those tentative years back at Hogwarts, had finally found the self confidence he had been missing before the war. He was finally confident in what he was doing, he was confident in Herbology and looking after students and Draco honestly found himself smiling every time he saw Professor Sprout’s successor. He had grown into his looks as well, much to Draco’s attention. Gone was the scrawny clumsy boy from their youth, replaced by a self assured, tall, broad attractive young man with a smile to die for and a twinkle of mischief in his eye that Draco definitely would have pursued back in their apprenticeships if he hadn’t been getting over his obsession with the other ‘war hero’. However he had come to adore the friendship he and Neville held and wouldn't do anything to disrupt that. Plus, it didn’t help that Neville knew of his feelings towards Potter and their past from a drunken night in their common room after everyone else had gone to bed. If Draco thought about it however, that night had been the making of this friendship, both of the opening up on the floor leaning against armchairs and highlighted by the flickering fire.

“Yeah but I really don’t wanna talk about work now” Neville laughed, picking up his glass and watching it fill itself “What did you pick?”

“Feta watermelon salad, Lentil cottage pie and the chocolate mousse, you?” Draco replied and he smiled as Neville rolled his eyes.

“Veggie week is it?” Neville asked, knowing full well it was.

“Yes” Draco took a sip of his champagne and felt a small twinge as he caught sight of the empty chair again.

“Chicken Pate, Crown of Lamb and the chocolate mousse too” Neville replied, looking longingly at the empty plate in front of him. “I wish they’d hurry up though, I’m starved” He moaned and Draco laughed.

“You’re always starved Neville”

“Yeah well, you didn’t have to travel all the way from Scotland to get here” Neville joked

“You flooed you prat” Draco snorted back.

“Yeah well, I’m still hungry” Neville grumbled and Draco laughed again, really, he missed the times they had had in the Three broomsticks. Seeing Neville drunk for the first time is honestly one of Draco’s fonder memories.

“Potter’s still not back then” Neville casually remarked after they had finished joking and Draco just finished his drink off.

“Nope” He held his glass out and watched as the pale liquid slowly filled it, bubbles just reaching the top.

“Ah”

“Ah indeed”

A silence fell between them that made Draco’s foot start to twitch. Fucking Potter, still fucking things up even when he’s not here. Draco was so deep into thinking of ways to break the silence that he almost missed what Neville was saying.

“Never mind, look who just walked in, just before the food as well” He whispered and Draco turned slowly, trying not to make it obvious.

Yes, that was indeed Potter rushing through the doors of the dining room, pulling at his tie, hair wild and out of breath. That wasn’t what had Draco staring though, no, it was the long red mark running from the bottom of Potter’s right eye down to his chin that definitely wasn’t there before he left. Draco heard Granger’s sharp intake of breath and he felt his hands curl into fists. He really shouldn’t care, he really shouldn’t feel himself getting protective and angry at the cut on Potter’s face like he saw Granger be. He had no right. So he turned back to Neville and found his warm eyes on him, a look of curiosity and sympathy in them.

“It’ll be alright mate, dangers of the job” He murmured and Draco just nodded in his direction, knowing full well that Neville knew as much as Draco when it came to Potter’s job. He was an unspeakable, that’s all they knew and all they would know. Everyone knew however that unspeakables turned up dead more often than not.

Draco saw from the corner of his eye Potter lean down to murmur something into Luna’s ear, probably his apologies for being late. Luna just nodded and smiled, pointing towards Potter’s empty seat and Draco felt himself go rigid as Potter turned towards them.

“Well, it looks like we get the envious company of the Chosen one tonight” Neville joked, nudging Draco in a gesture that Draco knew was to cheer him up and snap him out of his mood together. Draco forced his swirling thoughts to the back of his mind and smiled back at Neville.

“Oh how delightful”

Neville just snorted into his glass and took a quick sip before smiling brightly at Potter as he sat down opposite Draco. Draco had to force himself to not look at the mark on Potter’s face when he turned to face him.

“Busy day Harry?” Neville asked innocently, smiling.

“A little” Harry laughed, getting comfortable in his seat.

“Really Potter” Draco drawled, leaning back “leaving lunch early and being late for dinner, bad form”

Potter’s eyes found his and Draco felt his fingers clench at the intensity in them “Ah my bad” Harry smiled and leaned forwards “how rude of me”

“Yes well” Neville interjected “it’s good to see you again mate, been a while”

Potter’s intense eyes snapped to Neville and Draco felt himself let go of the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

“Yeah, sorry about that” Potter had the decency to look sheepish. “Work and all” he offered and Neville snorted in agreement.

“Know what you mean, I thought Mcgonagall was harsh as a teacher, she’s worse as a boss”

Both he and Potter winced at that and Draco couldn’t help but notice the way Potter had relaxed slightly, not fully, he still eyed the doorways before responding to Neville, but he was leant back in his chair, and easy smile on his lips.

“I don’t know how you do it Neville to be honest” He laughed.

“Me neither” Neville admitted “But I love it, though, it would be a lot more enjoyable if this one was there with me” he thumbed at Draco and Draco rolled his eyes yet again, what was it with him and surrounding himself with friends like this?

Potter’s eyes went from Neville to Draco and back again quickly with a look in them which Draco thought was judgement before quickly vanishing. “Oh really?”

“Yeah mate, the things we got up to during our apprenticeships” Neville replied wistfully, a small smile playing on his lips and Draco caught on immediately. Whoever thought that Neville was an innocent unobservant wizard was heavily mistaken. Draco kicked his foot lightly in warning but he knew the look in Neville’s eyes, had seen it enough times when Neville acted as his self appointed wingman and knew he couldn’t stop what was happening.

Potter looked back at Draco, but Draco didn’t look him in the eye, just held out his glass to be refilled. Draco must have done something good in a past life however, as at that moment the starters appeared on their plates, the smell of food suddenly cutting through the conversation as everyone looked down at their plates.

“Before everyone starts eating” A voice fell over the room and everyone looked to the top of the table where Luna was sitting next to Ginny Weasley. “I just wanted to thank everyone for coming this weekend, I’m very grateful”

“Happy Birthday Love” Girl Weasley said, holding up her glass and everyone followed, raising a glass for their host.

“Happy Birthday Luna” Everyone said before taking a drink.   

Luna laughed happily “Thank you everyone, now you can start, I know how hungry you all must be, especially you Neville” She said, smirking down the table and Draco felt Neville shift next to him.

“You know it Luna” He called back and Draco knew he’d have that devilish smirk on his face that let him get away with everything “All that travelling”

Draco couldn’t help the snort of laughter that came then at the ridiculousness of the situation, but luckily everyone had started talking again. Neville chuckled next to him before he dug into his starter. When Draco looked up, two green eyes were staring at him, a look he couldn't place in them. Draco couldn’t help his gaze from sweeping the red mark on Potter’s face and Potter noticed.

“It’s nothing” He said lowly, enough for only Draco to hear.

“Doesn’t look like nothing Potter” Draco sniffed, picking at his salad “Whoever the healer was did a shit job, I’ll see what I can do on Monday”

Potter smiled that damn smile again “Thanks”. Draco ignored the feeling he got from that, honestly he was pathetic.

[littlewitchhazels-blog]

Brings Me Back

“We ran! We just ran!”

Let’s take a wild guess on which Jopper scene left the biggest impression on me in S2 :) This started out as a little bit of a ramble/me deconstructing the scene and working my way around an interpretation of a younger Joyce and Hopper friendship, then it became this! Hope you enjoy! (Read on AO3)

Strange, really, to think of the old days, when nothing really mattered. Nevertheless, Joyce couldn’t help but allow herself to be swept up in the wave of nostalgia and bittersweet memories that overcame her in the quiet moments. It was nice to indulge herself in such luxuries every once in a while, when things got tough.

She cast herself back to the eerily quiet schoolyard — an empty world that seemed almost out of place compared to the noisy scene one would usually associate with the open area — the way it always was when all the boisterous kids had even herded away into their classrooms. Joyce recalled with a smile the glassy-eyed stares of old classmates during those last few periods of the day, just waiting to be freed from the cramped classrooms and stuffy teachers. In a way, you could almost call the deserted schoolyard peaceful. Still, there were stragglers — why wouldn’t there be? She was one of them! — shuffling amidst the collection of parked cars that lined the pavement.

It was easy enough to sneak through the halls and past the buildings, finding yourself out in the open and away from the monotony of the classroom’s teachings. Most of the time, teachers didn’t give a shit and you could probably count on your classmates not to snitch (given that they weren’t skipping, themselves). In any case, the only torture the teachers could provide in lieu of skipping fifth and sixth period was the painful boredom of detention. Even that, as terrible as it would seem at the time, was survivable. You were guaranteed to get caught at least once or twice, but everyone got smart after that. Well, ‘smart’ was a generous way of putting it, but damn did it make them feel untouchable! What she’d give to have that stubborn bravery of her youth once more.

Even as one hand bounced nervously against her thigh, Joyce was always confident in her march across the empty schoolyard of Hawkins High, easily ducking under windows and keeping close to the walls when she had to. The path and all its obstacles were almost ingrained in her memories. All she had to do was walk. Every now and then, she’d throw a cautious glance over her shoulder, but really there was never anything to worry about so long as she kept light on her feet.

In all honesty, she probably could have walked the whole way with her eyes closed; Joyce was willing to bet that even now, some twenty-odd years down the road, she still could have done it. Just one more turn and there: The steps around the back of the school, thankfully devoid of any other skulking students. Maybe there was some other stomping ground for the no-good miscreants of Hawkins High, but the thought of seeking out some other sheltered haven never crossed Joyce’s mind back then. Either way, past residents had already left their marks with the cigarette butts that littered the ground and the streaks of ash that smeared the concrete. Joyce had always cautioned one last peek around the area before ducking under the steps. It never hurt in the long run to be just a little more cautious.

Usually, that in itself was enough — an instinct learned after one too many dull detentions, and from the fretful thoughts lingering at the corners of her mind — but every once in a while it simply wasn't enough. Joyce would never forget that day Mr. Cooper caught her and Hopper smoking under the steps.

Her fingers were tapping against the rusted support she leant against, drumming out a nervous tune as she stood waiting for what felt like a goddamn eternity. Come on, where is he, where is he, where is he? She was always first, used to always be the one waiting until the fateful day she simply stopped coming. That was just the way it always was: She’d tap out her anxieties for a few achingly long minutes, slowly drifting into her own flittering thoughts, and then — “Christ, Hopper! You scared the shit out of me!”

He would just appear out of thin air! As bizarre as it seemed, considering her parter-in-crime’s towering frame and broad shoulders, he had a way of dropping in completely unnoticed by her. On reflection, maybe she was just a little too wrapped up in her thoughts to realise; kind of a shitty quality for the self-proclaimed lookout to have.

On the days he jumped her, Joyce would smack Hopper square in the chest with a tiny balled-up fist. Hopper, without even flinching, would always laugh at that. That was another strange thing about remembering, realising that she hadn’t heard that deep, rumbling laughter in years. The thought made her heart ache.

“Gotta keep your eyes open, Joyce.” He’d warn jokingly.

She rolled her eyes at that, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She never realised back then how much he loved those moments, when she’d smile at him so sweetly. Perhaps part of her truly was playing up for the camera, but the fact that they never quite made it past ‘very good friends’ said otherwise. As he ducked under the steps to join her, Joyce threw one last glance over Hopper’s shoulder before her eyes were drawn to the pack of Camels he’d fished out from his back pocket.

Hopper barely had time to light the damn thing before Joyce would inevitably snatch the cigarette from between his teeth, taking a long slow drag before leisurely handing it back to him with a smug look plastered on her face. “So… Playing hooky again, Hop?”

It was one of their running jokes, the facade of obliviousness at each other’s constant presence and dedication to their shared smoke breaks. He’d always give her a look, halfway between amused and something else that she could never quite place, but he never said anything about it; Hopper just laughed, and plucked the cigarette from between her fingers, wading it between his teeth with a lazy smile. “I could ask you the same thing, myself.”

“Very funny.” She drawled, watching as a plume of smoke escaped his lips.

And that was how they would remain — most of the time, at least — exchanging friendly jabs at each other amidst the general silence. There was never really a need for words when they were together, Just the presence of each other was enough. And the shared pack of smokes, too. Sometimes she’d ask about his mom, then he’d ask about her dad. They’d laugh, sigh, and sink back into their comfortable silence before their stilted conversation would start all over again as if there hadn't been a ten minute lull that split their conversation right down the middle.

They’d just settled into one of their brief snippets of conversation, laughing quietly over some dumb story Hopper had recounted about something she couldn’t quite remember, when all of a sudden they were so rudely interrupted by exasperation at the youths of the generation turned to wrathful irritation.

“Hey, assholes!”

Joyce could have sworn she jumped a foot in the air at the sound of the booming voice that shook the once peaceful space in an instant. On that occasion, she’d instinctively grabbed the front of Hopper’s shirt and twisted it so tightly in her fist that, for the rest of the day, the fabric of his white shirt became hideously wrinkled just below the left armpit. Whipping her head around in one fluid motion, she caught a glimpse of an advancing Mr. Cooper brandishing a threatening fist as he came closer and closer. After a moment of fumbling, Joyce grabbed Hopper’s wrist with her free hand and jolted the cigarette from his fingers. “Run!”

And so they ran. She whisked Hopper away with a giddy peal of laughter as they dashed out from under the steps and tore down the paths towards the main buildings of the school. Not once did she relinquish her iron grip on Hopper’s wrist, nor did he as he twisted his hand to grab her own wrist in the midst of the chaos. Every now and then, when they came to a shuddering halt for a split second decision of which turn to take, his hand would come up and hover over her shoulder, poised to usher her forward if need be. And no matter how great his long strides were, she could always keep up.

Through twisting hallways and past silent classrooms they went, their footsteps clattering against the linoleum floor, unable to fight the euphoric whoops and frantic shushing that punctuated their sharp breaths. As lovely as the silence was, there was something so thrilling about the chase — tangled up in each other’s arms, huddling together in one useless hiding spot after the other — that brought the widest of smiles on both of their faces.

Joyce was almost winded by the force in which Hopper suddenly changed directions and pulled her into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind them with just a bit too much strength than was necessary. They pressed their faces to the small window in the door — Hopper’s chin digging into the top of Joyce’s head, their breaths fogging the window — in one last cautionary effort. It was only then, when they were satisfied that Mr. Cooper had given up the chase, that Joyce pried herself away from Hopper and fell to the ground with her back pressed up against the door. Her chest rose and fell with each gulping lungful of air, and she remembered thinking how she’d never ran so hard and fast in her life. “Holy shit…”

Hopper slumped to the ground next to her in an equally breathless state. For a moment, their eyes met and all of a sudden they were laughing again. They laughed, and laughed, and laughed until their cheeks hurt from smiling so brightly.

That was what they called ‘life-or-death’ back in the day. Simpler times.

After they’d finally calmed down and caught their breaths, Joyce vividly recalled the moment Hopper brought a hand down to squeeze her knee in playful reassurance before using it as a support to stand up on shaky legs. Yes, their friendship had always been something of a touchy one — with lingering hands on forearms, arms looped around shoulders and waists, and a playful shove or two — but she couldn’t quite stop thinking about just how warm his hands were when they caressed her skin. He must have said something to her when he offered her a hand, but she hadn’t heard it.

It was just a moment, one of many shared between them, that instantly passed as soon as Joyce had carefully tucked it away into a quiet corner of her mind for later contemplation that she never quite got to.

A moment quickly forgotten by the time Hopper had hauled her back on to her feet and caught her as she stumbled on the spot, laughing softly at the almost drunken wobbling that came with each step. And once again they’re pressed up against each other’s side arm in arm, somewhat lopsided due to the almost ridiculous height difference, stumbling out of the classroom on a mutual unspoken decision to skip the rest of the school day.

They could deal with the consequences of their antics tomorrow.

* * *

Most of their days weren’t so hectic or filled with brimming excitement that came with hallway chases and unquenchable laughter. Mostly it was just quiet chatter and prolonged silences that never lent itself to anything other than the closeness of their friendship.

And then there was one time, a time that felt like forever ago, when he’d leaned in and brushed his lips so softly against hers… Joyce had thought that he was going to tell her that he loved her. Strange, how clearly she could recall the smell of cigarette smoke on his breath, the closeness of their bodies, and the fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. Something made him stop, pull away hesitantly with his gaze cast almost shamefully to the floor. I’m sorry, he’d said, best forget it. So she did, for a while, buried it away with all the other moments when he started seeing other girls and she started dating that scumbag Lonnie.

Now, however, she remembered it. And Joyce wondered if he did too.

[filmista]

Jackie

Jacqueline (Jackie) Kennedy, It’s a famous name belonging to a famous and iconic woman. But what do we really know about the woman behind the name, who was she?

We know she was a woman of elegance, of grace of poise, the sort of poise you can tell under which shimmers great strength of character.

When we think of Jackie Kennedy, we almost immediately think of her husband John. F. Kennedy, there is a universal collective image of Jackie, beside her husband smiling and greeting, ready for both the camera and the people.

She looked as if she was ready for the world at all times. But that was a defense system of sorts too, an impenetrable, public persona because It’s in her mind what’s expected of the first lady, and partly by choice.

Which once again brings me to the question, who was the woman beneath the elegant dresses and Chanel suits? The word that comes to my mind is once again is impenetrable, inaccessible.

She has in a way remained as mysterious as her husband’s murder or the smile of the Mona Lisa, neither ever solved. And that’s exactly what Pablo Larraín tries to answer, who was Jackie Kennedy?

And in a way he succeeds, but in a way, she still remains a mystery. But at the same time we get peeks inside her mind, and yet it feels almost as if we’re intruding as if we’re watching from somewhere we shouldn’t be watching.

We discover that Jackie was a woman who values her privacy greatly, and who despite her public persona wasn’t always happy being the first lady, not always glad to be in the public’s eye.

A woman who loved her children, and her husband, but with whom she didn’t have a perfect, flawless relationship. They weren’t always the eternally happy, smiling couple from the photos and historic footage.

But she loved him. And that was the only thing shown to the outside world, any insecurities and annoyances were bottled up, stored inside herself.

And that there was a strain at times we know, both Kennedy brothers famously had an affair with Marilyn Monroe, the very wrong, quite heated, “Happy Birthday Mr. President”, is still as inappropriate and filled with erotic undertones as it was in its day.

One room in the film is referred to as the Monroe room, and unless the US had a president called something Monroe that I’ve somehow not heard of, I assumed it referred to Miss Monroe.

That bubbling up of emotions is something that keeps recurring, she looks strong as iron, but at the same time so fragile, that she seems like a glass that only by lightly ticking your finger against it, you could shatter.

Her face seems unreadable, yet she seems like the public facade can drop at any minute and that she could explode with all the stored emotions at any minute.

There is a constant internal struggle, between her public persona, the face Americans were allowed to see on tv, and how she really felt.

In that way, the film reminds me of another performance of hers, Black Swan. That is also a fight between ego, vanity, personal dignity and sanity. And a performance toward the outside world.

Not surprising, at least for me is that Darren Aronofsky helped produce Jackie. And while Jackie doesn’t have those same horror elements, there are times when it has that almost shrining restlessness and tension, and that same gory unsettling intimacy.

There is something terrifying, horrible, about seeing Jackie step out of her suit as if she is shedding her skin, allowing herself to be vulnerable, as the next minute she breaks down in the shower, with her husband’s blood sliding off her back, after the assassination in Dallas.

And she has no hurry to get the blood off, It’s almost as if she enjoys that something of her husband is still on her, not the same of course as when for instance a man is inside a woman during sex, and the woman wants him inside of her as long as possible, even after sex.

But it has that sort of intimacy to it, it feels like they’re one, one last time like she was really saying goodbye to him…  It’s horrifying and heartbreaking at the same time.

And you feel almost perverted watching it because she in that moment ought to be alone. And in these moments the line between reality and fiction is blurred for the audience, Natalie Portman is Mrs. Kennedy in those moments.

The assassination is something that has been featured in cinema aplenty, but never in such explicit and gory detail as here, here you see that Jackie got her husband’s blood and his brain literally splattered across her lap.

You really see the barbaric carnage a fire weapon can cause, and that she even desperately tried to hold his head together, after It’s literally been blown apart to seconds later feel him go limp, his vital signs fade while she was holding him in her lap. It is truly unspeakable...

This sort of sequence fits into the most disturbing and disgusting of horror films, but it really happened to her. What does such a thing do to someone? What effect does losing someone in such a horrible, haunting way have on someone? How do you not break down after that, go crazy or suppress the urge, to scream or break something?

Normally when people face such a tragedy, they have a right to mourn. Jackie had a struggle with herself, on one side she feels that she owed her husband a good, unforgettable funeral, she wants to do that for him.

But she weakens herself, by not allowing herself time to process because she felt she had to be a symbol of strength, something that would calm the American people.

But the sometimes lack of comprehension and compassion from people around her in the White House conflicts with her own vanity. She wants the best for her husband, while it seems the others want to swipe it under the carpet and resume things as quickly as possible, which is normal for a nation, the show must go on of course.

But she absolutely needed more emotional support, which she only gets from a bouffanted Greta Gerwig, and her children who yet couldn’t offer the support an adult could offer…

Thus what you see is a stoic, or forcedly stoic woman, alone, utterly alone, (while at the same time being adored by a nation) lost and drowning in the sea, or perhaps ocean of her grief and rage, with no one where or no one to go for relief.

And the times when she allows herself to drown are the eeriest. There’s a scene that gave me goosebumps: Jackie at one point drinks herself drunk almost to the point of oblivion. Puts on a record of the musical Camelot which her husband loved, then she wanders around the white house almost like a ghost, aimlessly, restlessly.

Her husband’s love for Camelot created the famous Camelot legend or myth surrounding the White House. Jackie said there would be other great presidents, but there would never be another Camelot. Maybe meaning that America would perhaps never thrive in such a joyous, beloved presidency and state again.

The film is framed around an interview that Jackie held a week after the funeral, with “the journalist” (Billy Crudup) - based on a conversation that Jackie had, in reality, with Theodore White, without being even mentioned by name. In it, she looks back on the successful tour that she gave for television on Valentine’s Day 1962 and the attempted assassination of JFK on November 22, 1963.

By the broken structure and fairly long flashbacks (and flashbacks within flashbacks) director, Pablo Larraín knows how to project her fragmented and scattered mind and mental state. Whether it really all happened is a guess.

Obviously, It’s drama and not a documentary and the Chilean filmmaker and his crew were free to interpret the events at their discretion and freedom. Most scenes are consistent with the facts of history and the memories of those around her. Her manipulative side, for instance, is most evident in the verbal sparring match with a very aggressively interviewing Crudup.

In this way, we see both snippets of her during her time in the White House and after her husband’s death. Yet I have to return to the question who was the woman? The answer to that is I still don’t know.

Clearly a very strong, resilient, kind, charismatic, elegant, proud and fiercely intelligent woman. who in truth maybe was quite the loner and didn’t want to be in the spotlight all the time, maybe only wanted a normal, ordinary family life, as she says “I never wanted fame, I just became a Kennedy.”

But I like that the film didn’t give us a definitive answer, but rather allowed us peeks into her psyche, it is for me more believable that way because no one is that easily defined, if you want cold hard facts, you might as well watch a documentary.

Jackie watches almost like a dream. The shots bathed in warm, romantic colors, framed with the hypnotic strings of Mica Levi’s music. But it’s a dream shrouded in a fog of grief, paralyzed by its downside. The film is set in the moments and days after the assassination of John F. Kennedy. The preparations for the funeral, the transfer of power. But those are just the events. It is not truly what Jackie is about.

Historian Ernst Kantorowicz distinguished once between the two bodies of the king: the natural, mortal body and the political body which transcends the earthly. In many of Shakespeare’s King pieces, both are visible and especially the conflict that arises between them. 

And in Jackie we see it, the emphasis Pablo Larraín puts for example on clothing. It begins with that familiar suit, that candy pink Chanel suit with gold buttons and black lining. When Jackie smiling and waving steps off the plane in Dallas, Texas she is a walking icon.

But that same suit becomes smeared with blood for all the world to see, and when she is alone she pulls it off, something Larraín films with an emphasis that makes it almost ritualistic. Here the natural body separates from the political body. The next shot is Jackie in the shower, her back turned to us.

Larraín frames the scenes about the immediate aftermath of the assassination of scenes in which Jackie will be interviewed by an in the film not named, but based on Theodore H. White journalist. 

This way Larraín introduces the citizens in the story. And they are (and by extension our) desire to gain access to Jackie Kennedy, to her emotions, her sadness. It is the mechanism of collective mourning, something the public sphere attracts and has a morbid fascination with but that is is actually so very private.

Jackie is filled with close-ups of the face of Natalie Portman. Front and centered on the screen. We can not avoid it. Larraín thereby gives the public what it wants: the sadness of the elusive Jackie Kennedy. But that sadness is as inevitable as it is screen filling, and becomes overwhelming, uncomfortable to watch. 

When Jackie tells the reporter how she was in the car with the head of her husband in her lap - the blood, the brains - we feel resistance. It shows the paradox that we want to enter the private sphere, leaving only the space for our imagination. And the reality is that that space does not exist. The grief, the trauma, all are pressed outward into our face. 

In one of the few other scenes where Jackie is alone clothes again play an important role. She puts on an LP of Camelot, the famous musical with Richard Burton and Julie Andrews of which hubby was a fan, and desperately tries on all kinds of dresses.

Desperately seeking that political body, which would allow to separate her from the all-consuming pain. It is a balancing act that is required of her. Between what remains private and what is public. Something that has always been something she was good at. But the murder has put a gigantic, dividing, unbearable weight between the two and she doesn’t know which persona to present at which times. 

The title role is with phenomenal acting taken on by Natalie Portman, she has everything down to perfection, Jackie’s elegance comes to life through her and above all, she knows how to imitate her voice without strikingly resembling her.

The entire film revolves around her, her experience, Portman is in every scene, carries the film, while she knows with an astonishing manner to capture the entire spectrum of emotions - and the different stages of grief. In addition, she shows us another side Jackie at each moment.

This along with the narrative style makes it somewhat difficult as a viewer to really sympathize deeply, as it feels as if you’re observing from afar. Portman, however, knows how to find the right balance and a deserved Oscar nomination was rightly hers, a true tour de force!

On how Portman imitates the voice of the former First Lady, there has been quite a lot of debate. That it can induce irritation in some people, is not that difficult to imagine, but if you listen to original recordings of the White House Tour from 62, you will learn that Jackie’s voice is approached almost to perfection.

In important supporting roles, we see an almost unrecognizable Greta Gerwig as her assistant Nancy Tuckerman, Peter Sarsgaard as an unrecognizable Robert Bobby Kennedy (and not in a good way) and John Hurt as the priest that Jackie holds a frank conversation about life and death and the nature of her marriage with.

Sarsgaard is the only frustratingly discordant note in an otherwise masterful film. With his acting work in itself, there is not even that much wrong and that he barely resembles the younger brother of the president (and also Minister of Justice), is still forgivable. But he also does not attempt to access Bobby’s voice and attitude.

Moreover, there is hardly any reference to the fact that he as a cause of his brother's death also fell into an emotional black hole and is going through a grieving process as well, he seems insensitive, untouched and I don’t find that realistic.

Of course, there are scenes in which he gloomily stares out at nothing in particular, but his version of Bobby Kennedy never really comes to life for the viewer. 

John Hurt shines with his sonorous voice in one of his last film roles before his death in early 2017 as a priest who has no answers to the questions of life which Jackie wrestles with but knows how to touch the deeper layer and offer her sympathy and consolation, just by really listening to her.

In other roles we John Carroll Lynch as a crass Lyndon B. Johnson, JFK’s successor and Richard E. Grant as designer Bill Walton. Phillipson, a Danish actor who has been chosen because of his likeness to the president was awarded little screen time and the only dialogue that he has, is unmistakably the voice of Kennedy himself.

Larraín knows how to with beautifully filmed, wordless scenes catch Jackie’s inner state of mind, supported by the unprecedented and ominous, unsettling almost horror like music Of Mica Levi. Central is also the “Camelot” closing song from the musical, a popular Broadway hit of that time, which was the basis for the myth of the Kennedy fairy tale in the White House.

Jackie is a fascinating character study that breaks the mold of the customary biographical fact cross list and sheds a new light on one of the most famous and at the same time most unfathomable women of the 20th century in her strong and weak moments.

Jackie: The truth? Well I’ve grown accustomed to a great divide between what people believe and what I know to be real. Journalist: Fine, I will settle for a story that’s believable. Jackie: That’s more like it. You know I used to be a reporter myself once. I know what you’re looking for. Journalist: I’m sorry? Jackie: A moment-by-moment account. That’s what you came here for, isn’t it? You want me to describe the sound the bullet made when it collided with my husband’s skull.

“I've read a great deal. More than people realize. The more I read, the more I wonder: When something is written down, does that make it true?”

[reputationiseverything]

Stop Targeting Keywords and Start Targeting Customers

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For years we’ve all been taught that the first step to creating content that ranks is to target keywords.

For years, the ability to rank high in SERPs seemed to rely heavily on two things. First, pick keywords that are high traffic and low competition. Then, practice keyword density.

This is no longer true.

In fact, Google views too high of a density as keyword stuffing, which they will punish.

Keyword research is still important, but the way we should be implementing it has changed.

Why?

First, SEMRush did a study of Google’s ranking factors and found keywords were pretty far down the list. The first keyword related metric came in at 12th place.

That’s well below customer engagement metrics such as time on site and bounce rate.

Second, although meta tags are useful for users, they no longer influence rankings.

Google’s algorithm has become more sophisticated. It’s now smart enough that it no longer has to rely on simple keywords to tell it what your content is about.

If you want to be rank high in SERPs in 2018, you’re going to need to start targeting your customers and not just keywords.

Don’t worry. I’m going to walk you how to do this step-by-step.

But first, let’s look at the algorithm changes that have led to this shift.

Algorithms are becoming more human

In 2011, Google rolled out Panda which was designed to target and penalize sites that were producing thin and low-quality content.

Why?

People had learned that they could follow a practice called keyword stuffing to rank high in search results.

Here’s an example of keyword stuffing for the phrase ‘ALT Tags’:

Keyword stuffing may have helped rank your content in search engines, but it tended to result in an unnatural flow that didn’t resonate with readers.

Google recognized this and decided to find a way to penalize the practice.

This was just the beginning of Google reducing the effectiveness of keywords in SERPs.

The next year brought the introduction of the Knowledge Graph.

This was the beginning of Google being able to interpret strings rather than just isolated words.

For example, Google understands that when someone types in the keyword “Obama,” they probably are referring to the US President Barack Obama.

The knowledge graph can connect this one word with not only an actual person but also with some connections to other people, places, and things.

In 2013, there was even further advancement with the introduction of Hummingbird.

It was a huge change and a big step further in Google’s ability to handle “conversational search.”

Even five years ago, Google was beginning to understand and answer intent.

This 2013 example shows the simple question of, “will it rain tomorrow?”

The question did not have to state a location or ask for a weather forecast. Google simply knew the searcher’s location and knew that rain was related to weather.

In 2015, an even bigger change came, when Google announced the launch of machine-learning artificial intelligence that it had dubbed RankBrain.

Within months of it being launched, Google claimed it was their third-most important ranking factor inside their search engine algorithm.

Why?

RankBrain was designed to help identify and respond to intent, instead of just words.

What does this mean?

Well, for example, if I search for ‘RankBrain’ I’m not really telling Google what my intent is, am I? All I’ve given it is the one word.

However, check out the search results:

Now, look at the search results for ‘what is RankBrain?’

They’re the same.

RankBrain has been able to use machine learning to understand that both of these keywords have the same intent for the majority of people.

This is how Google can make sure it’s bringing back the most relevant content to its users.

The first search result is FAQs on RankBrain. If you check it out, the article mentions RankBrain 52 times in 2,660 words, which is just under 2% of the time.

Optimal keyword density in this new world is between 0.5% and 2.5%. There was definitely no keyword stuffing done to achieve ranking.

This just goes to show that keywords alone will no longer grab you the top spot in search results.

In fact, keyword densities that are too high will be penalized.

With the move to mobile-first indexing and the growth of voice search, algorithms have had to get even better at deciphering intent rather than words.

There is an increasing trend toward voice search using apps such as Google Assistant.

It’s available on more than 400 million devices. Some estimates indicate Google sold over 10 million Google Home units last year alone.

This impacts the way search results work in two ways:

1. Digital assistants are beginning to influence search results.

Smartphone assistants will answer basic queries with three different listings.

They’ll also blend these requests with your own personal, historical data to tailor results.

Google Home will also provide you with the answer in the featured snippet for that search.

If you want your content to be the result heard by searchers, you need to obtain the featured snippet spot.

2. Voice search allows for conversational phrasing.

Users of voice search want to be able to speak naturally and still get the results that they ask for.

That means you need to consider conversation, content, and context.

To meet these needs, algorithms and marketers are increasingly required to focus on conversational language and keyword clusters, rather than specific keywords.

For example, Haahr previously explained that if a user is searching for “Walmart,” they don’t want to see results about the head office.

They expect results showing them the Walmart store closest to them.

So how do we target customer engagement instead of targeting keyword use?

Understand the intent of your audience

I mentioned earlier how Google’s RankBrain was designed to interpret the intent of searchers.

Search engines are putting customer needs, wants and desires first, and we should be doing it too.

So, how do we capture this intention and focus on it rather than specific words?

First, let’s look at what a user intent SEO strategy really is.

We know that we need to understand the overlap between what phrases people are actually searching for and what they really mean.

We also have to pinpoint where this intersects with our content marketing strategy.

It’s important to understand that some general keywords can be classified into either navigation, research or conversion keywords.

These classifications align with the stage of the conversion funnel that a searcher is in.

Content needs to take into account where customers are in the funnel, as well as what keywords they’re using, to properly target intent.

Research keywords are typically used with informational intent.

These searches are likely looking for broad informational guides such as walk-throughs, how-tos, and step-by-step procedures.

Conversion keywords imply transactional intent. Users are getting ready to convert or buy.

Common phrases they may search for are:

“Coupon”

“Discount”

“Shipping”

“Where to buy”

“[product one] versus [product two]”

“Best [product] under [price]”

“Best [product] for [consumer group]”

Incorporating these words into your keyword research can help identify long tail phrases that better match intent.

Navigation keywords are typically used when a shopper is already looking for a specific brand, company or site.

For example, “content marketing” may be an informational keyword, but “Content Marketing Institute” implies someone is specifically looking to navigate to that company.

Keywords should line up with customers’ level of interest as well as their intent.

The better able you are to understand customer intent, the easier it will be for you to target customers instead of just keywords.

There are a number of tools you can use to help you better understand the intent of your current customers.

Heat Maps

Heat maps such as Crazy Egg allow you to see where visitors clicked on your site.

You can also use them to see which content was scrolled through.

This helps you better understand, even within an article or a page, exactly what it was searchers were looking for.

The more you focus on what your customers really want instead of focusing on just the few words used, the better your content will perform.

Focus on content packages

To bridge the gap between targeting keywords and targeting customers, we need to look at how we package our content.

As we discussed earlier, Google is getting better at showing searchers the best results that match their intent.

If you want to rank above what’s already there for a certain keyword, you need to create better content.

Short, light fluff pieces will not suffice.

This can be seen by looking at how the length of time taken to create content keeps going up every year.

Just as the time invested has increased, so has the number of words.

According to Ann Handley of Marketing Profs, the big takeaways from this is that quality matters and “we don’t need more content. We need more relevant content.”

You can use Google AdWords Keyword Planner to come up with hundreds of related keywords. But how do you package them in a way that is relevant to your customer interest and intent?

Use topic clusters.

A good way to start creating a topic cluster is to select a broad topic and build an initial pillar page about it.

Then you would create a separate post for each cluster content area referenced in the pillar page.

This might sound a bit confusing, so let’s look at an example.

Local marketing is such a broad subject that the intent could be very different depending on who typed in the keyword.

That’s why this was the broad topic Duct Tape Marketing choose for their pillar page, The Ultimate Guide to Local Marketing.

The Ultimate Guide is a page on their website which offers various content across multiple mediums such as the downloadable playbook and an embedded video.

This page then goes on the link out to many other posts on their site. Each one dealing with a content cluster, or a specific subset of local marketing.

Not only that but each one of the ‘subset’ posts links back to the Ultimate Guide.

All of the posts are meticulously linked together using categories, backlinks, and anchor text.

Where the author did not yet have sufficient depth of a subject covered, he linked out to curated content from high authority sites like Moz.

This allowed him to build a deep, insightful topic cluster with a wealth of backlinks and content to answer a “local marketing” keyword search no matter the intent.

Every time a new related post is created, it will be linked back to the Ultimate Guide, keeping the content updated and fresh.

The keyword the author had targeted was “local marketing guide,” for which he currently ranks second overall in Google.

The interlinking has also helped several of the other subposts end up on the first page of search results, such as Adwords for local businesses.

Why do topic clusters work so well?

One reason is that the main page has so much content and so many links that people tend to stay on the page and the site.

Duct Tape Marketing’s bounce rate for their Ultimate Guide is almost zero. Google translates this to be high engagement, which is exactly what it’s looking for.

So how do you create a content package?

There are tools on the market that help you do this.

MarketMuse

MarketMuse helps you to identify content gaps within your website and in the market.

It can help you to build, organize, and optimize your content by the topic cluster to optimize your organic SEO.

Content Strategy

HubSpot has also launched their own content strategy tool.

They have designed it to help you create, publish, and report on your content by topic grouping.

LSIGraph

Another option is to use an LSI generator such as LSIGraph to identify keywords that are related to each other.

It’s a free tool that will provide you with related keywords for whatever term you search.

Google Search

Finally, Google is always an option.

After all, Google wants to provide searchers with the best results. This means it’s to their benefit to help you create the best content.

You can find relevant topic clusters using Google in three different ways:

1. Auto-suggest. As soon as you start typing, Google starts automatically populating suggestions of what it thinks you might be looking for.

For example, this is what I see when I start typing “search engine” into Google.

2. Related searches. After you hit enter, you can scroll down to the bottom of the search results page.

3. People also ask. For some searches, Google will also provide you with a “People also ask” section.

These are common questions Google is asked that it thinks are similar to what you’re trying to find.

Make sure your pillar topic is sufficiently broad enough to be the umbrella for the rest if you’re going to use a pillar page.

Then create separate linked posts for each potential subset topic that you grouped using one of the above-suggested tools.

Once you have content clusters or groupings, it’s also important to make sure you choose content types that align.

For example, consider the following:

On-site glossaries and FAQ pages are good ways to tackle simple keywords that may be searched by people in the informational stage.

Pillar pages, cornerstone content and blog posts are great for in-depth answers related to the informational stage, as well as targeting people in the navigational stage.

Once consumers are into the transactional stage, landing pages are a great way to use content to help close the deal.

Here’s a slightly different approach to lining up content type with buyer readiness stage:

Don’t forget the rest of your SEO arsenal.

This post has focused on how and why to transition from keyword targeting to focusing on customer intent and interest.

However, as I’ve mentioned, engagement is a driving factor in how Google gauges quality content that satisfies intent.

Because of this, we can’t forget the other areas of SEO that also impact engagement.

Technical and off-page SEO are just as important for positive customer experiences.

Off-Page SEO

Off-page SEO is primarily your internal and external link portfolio.

You need to develop a link building strategy that helps promote your site authority and helps show Google you’re a great match for customer intent.

One way to do this was mentioned earlier through the building of topic clusters and content packages.

However, you also need to keep a close eye on who’s linking to you, so that you don’t end up with backlinks that are spammy.

After all, backlinks are currently four of the top eight ranking factors.

To keep your links clean, I recommend conducting a link profile audit on a regular basis to see how things look.

If you find any questionable sites linking to your content, make sure that you disavow them.

Technical SEO

Technical SEO can sound complex, but I promise it’s not as bad as it seems.

It’s also a critical part of any SEO toolkit.

Here’s an excellent high-level summary from Moz on what parts of technical SEO you should begin to focus on:

When thinking about keywords from a technical standpoint, you need to consider three main areas.

1. Content tags

There are two main types of content tags you should focus on: H1 (headings) and H2 (subheadings).

H1 tags are your titles. H2 tags are subheadings.

You should still make sure one of your relevant keywords is in your H1 tag.

However, with the new algorithm changes, it’s less important that your H2 tags are riddled with keywords, and more important that they withstand a readability test.

Your content, including your subheadings, needs to be simple and flow well.

It should be written for someone reading at a 7th or 8th-grade level.

2. Site Speed

Google released an announcement in January that starting this July pagespeed will be one of their ranking factors for mobile searches.

Not only that, but 40% of your audience will abandon your website if it takes longer than three seconds to load.

If your page speeds are slow, your bounce rate will increase, causing Google to think that you’re not doing a good job satisfying customers.

3. Mobile friendliness

I’ve already mentioned the importance of mobile earlier in this article.

Mobile landing page optimization is vital now that Google has switched to a mobile-first index.

The number of mobile users continues to every year. Last year 66% of the population had a mobile phone.

Strong technical SEO will help improve important ranking factors such as time on page and bounce rates, by improving the user experience.

It should not be overlooked in any strategy, particularly as the importance of providing outstanding customer experiences increases.

Conclusion

Thanks to advances in technology, the algorithms used by search engines like Google are getting more advanced.

Instead of focusing on simple metrics such as keywords, they are now looking for content that provides value and engagement to audiences.

Google’s algorithm is continuing to advance toward voice search and conversational phrases.

This means the exact wording used in search boxes is becoming less important in which results rank well.

To get your content in front of your desired market, you need to focus on intent, interest, and engagement of customers.

You will need to account for the growing use of Mobile and Voice apps and ensure your content is optimized for them.

Then you need to engage your audience is make sure you understand what their intent is.

Make sure you understand what people are really looking for when they use certain keywords.

This means combining their searcher intent with where they are in the conversion funnel and using your content to target them properly.

You can use tools such as Behavior Flow, Site Search or Heat Maps to better understand the interest and intent of your current audience.

Then you can focus on building out in-depth topic clusters and content packages to target different customers.

Create ultimate guides and resource centers for customers early on in the conversion funnel.

Build out leadpages and conversion posts for customers near the bottom of the funnel.

Finally, continue to use keywords, but use them the right way. Don’t keyword stuff your posts. Looking for short phrases and referencing them multiple times is no longer enough.

However, you can use keywords to help you understand searcher intent and to build context into your articles and guides.

What tool are you using to cluster your content around customer intent and interest?

About the Author: Neil Patel is the cofounder of Neil Patel Digital.

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Stop Targeting Keywords and Start Targeting Customers

For years we’ve all been taught that the first step to creating content that ranks is to target keywords.

For years, the ability to rank high in SERPs seemed to rely heavily on two things. First, pick keywords that are high traffic and low competition. Then, practice keyword density.

This is no longer true.

In fact, Google views too high of a density as keyword stuffing, which they will punish.

Keyword research is still important, but the way we should be implementing it has changed.

Why?

First, SEMRush did a study of Google’s ranking factors and found keywords were pretty far down the list. The first keyword related metric came in at 12th place.

That’s well below customer engagement metrics such as time on site and bounce rate.

Second, although meta tags are useful for users, they no longer influence rankings.

Google’s algorithm has become more sophisticated. It’s now smart enough that it no longer has to rely on simple keywords to tell it what your content is about.

If you want to be rank high in SERPs in 2018, you’re going to need to start targeting your customers and not just keywords.

Don’t worry. I’m going to walk you how to do this step-by-step.

But first, let’s look at the algorithm changes that have led to this shift.

Algorithms are becoming more human

In 2011, Google rolled out Panda which was designed to target and penalize sites that were producing thin and low-quality content.

Why?

People had learned that they could follow a practice called keyword stuffing to rank high in search results.

Here’s an example of keyword stuffing for the phrase ‘ALT Tags’:

Keyword stuffing may have helped rank your content in search engines, but it tended to result in an unnatural flow that didn’t resonate with readers.

Google recognized this and decided to find a way to penalize the practice.

This was just the beginning of Google reducing the effectiveness of keywords in SERPs.

The next year brought the introduction of the Knowledge Graph.

This was the beginning of Google being able to interpret strings rather than just isolated words.

For example, Google understands that when someone types in the keyword “Obama,” they probably are referring to the US President Barack Obama.

The knowledge graph can connect this one word with not only an actual person but also with some connections to other people, places, and things.

In 2013, there was even further advancement with the introduction of Hummingbird.

It was a huge change and a big step further in Google’s ability to handle “conversational search.”

Even five years ago, Google was beginning to understand and answer intent.

This 2013 example shows the simple question of, “will it rain tomorrow?”

The question did not have to state a location or ask for a weather forecast. Google simply knew the searcher’s location and knew that rain was related to weather.

In 2015, an even bigger change came, when Google announced the launch of machine-learning artificial intelligence that it had dubbed RankBrain.

Within months of it being launched, Google claimed it was their third-most important ranking factor inside their search engine algorithm.

Why?

RankBrain was designed to help identify and respond to intent, instead of just words.

What does this mean?

Well, for example, if I search for ‘RankBrain’ I’m not really telling Google what my intent is, am I? All I’ve given it is the one word.

However, check out the search results:

Now, look at the search results for ‘what is RankBrain?’

They’re the same.

RankBrain has been able to use machine learning to understand that both of these keywords have the same intent for the majority of people.

This is how Google can make sure it’s bringing back the most relevant content to its users.

The first search result is FAQs on RankBrain. If you check it out, the article mentions RankBrain 52 times in 2,660 words, which is just under 2% of the time.

Optimal keyword density in this new world is between 0.5% and 2.5%. There was definitely no keyword stuffing done to achieve ranking.

This just goes to show that keywords alone will no longer grab you the top spot in search results.

In fact, keyword densities that are too high will be penalized.

With the move to mobile-first indexing and the growth of voice search, algorithms have had to get even better at deciphering intent rather than words.

There is an increasing trend toward voice search using apps such as Google Assistant.

It’s available on more than 400 million devices. Some estimates indicate Google sold over 10 million Google Home units last year alone.

This impacts the way search results work in two ways:

1. Digital assistants are beginning to influence search results.

Smartphone assistants will answer basic queries with three different listings.

They’ll also blend these requests with your own personal, historical data to tailor results.

Google Home will also provide you with the answer in the featured snippet for that search.

If you want your content to be the result heard by searchers, you need to obtain the featured snippet spot.

2. Voice search allows for conversational phrasing.

Users of voice search want to be able to speak naturally and still get the results that they ask for.

That means you need to consider conversation, content, and context.

To meet these needs, algorithms and marketers are increasingly required to focus on conversational language and keyword clusters, rather than specific keywords.

For example, Haahr previously explained that if a user is searching for “Walmart,” they don’t want to see results about the head office.

They expect results showing them the Walmart store closest to them.

So how do we target customer engagement instead of targeting keyword use?

Understand the intent of your audience

I mentioned earlier how Google’s RankBrain was designed to interpret the intent of searchers.

Search engines are putting customer needs, wants and desires first, and we should be doing it too.

So, how do we capture this intention and focus on it rather than specific words?

First, let’s look at what a user intent SEO strategy really is.

We know that we need to understand the overlap between what phrases people are actually searching for and what they really mean.

We also have to pinpoint where this intersects with our content marketing strategy.

It’s important to understand that some general keywords can be classified into either navigation, research or conversion keywords.

These classifications align with the stage of the conversion funnel that a searcher is in.

Content needs to take into account where customers are in the funnel, as well as what keywords they’re using, to properly target intent.

Research keywords are typically used with informational intent.

These searches are likely looking for broad informational guides such as walk-throughs, how-tos, and step-by-step procedures.

Conversion keywords imply transactional intent. Users are getting ready to convert or buy.

Common phrases they may search for are:

“Coupon”

“Discount”

“Shipping”

“Where to buy”

“[product one] versus [product two]”

“Best [product] under [price]”

“Best [product] for [consumer group]”

Incorporating these words into your keyword research can help identify long tail phrases that better match intent.

Navigation keywords are typically used when a shopper is already looking for a specific brand, company or site.

For example, “content marketing” may be an informational keyword, but “Content Marketing Institute” implies someone is specifically looking to navigate to that company.

Keywords should line up with customers’ level of interest as well as their intent.

The better able you are to understand customer intent, the easier it will be for you to target customers instead of just keywords.

There are a number of tools you can use to help you better understand the intent of your current customers.

Heat Maps

Heat maps such as Crazy Egg allow you to see where visitors clicked on your site.

You can also use them to see which content was scrolled through.

This helps you better understand, even within an article or a page, exactly what it was searchers were looking for.

The more you focus on what your customers really want instead of focusing on just the few words used, the better your content will perform.

Focus on content packages

To bridge the gap between targeting keywords and targeting customers, we need to look at how we package our content.

As we discussed earlier, Google is getting better at showing searchers the best results that match their intent.

If you want to rank above what’s already there for a certain keyword, you need to create better content.

Short, light fluff pieces will not suffice.

This can be seen by looking at how the length of time taken to create content keeps going up every year.

Just as the time invested has increased, so has the number of words.

According to Ann Handley of Marketing Profs, the big takeaways from this is that quality matters and “we don’t need more content. We need more relevant content.”

You can use Google AdWords Keyword Planner to come up with hundreds of related keywords. But how do you package them in a way that is relevant to your customer interest and intent?

Use topic clusters.

A good way to start creating a topic cluster is to select a broad topic and build an initial pillar page about it.

Then you would create a separate post for each cluster content area referenced in the pillar page.

This might sound a bit confusing, so let’s look at an example.

Local marketing is such a broad subject that the intent could be very different depending on who typed in the keyword.

That’s why this was the broad topic Duct Tape Marketing choose for their pillar page, The Ultimate Guide to Local Marketing.

The Ultimate Guide is a page on their website which offers various content across multiple mediums such as the downloadable playbook and an embedded video.

This page then goes on the link out to many other posts on their site. Each one dealing with a content cluster, or a specific subset of local marketing.

Not only that but each one of the ‘subset’ posts links back to the Ultimate Guide.

All of the posts are meticulously linked together using categories, backlinks, and anchor text.

Where the author did not yet have sufficient depth of a subject covered, he linked out to curated content from high authority sites like Moz.

This allowed him to build a deep, insightful topic cluster with a wealth of backlinks and content to answer a “local marketing” keyword search no matter the intent.

Every time a new related post is created, it will be linked back to the Ultimate Guide, keeping the content updated and fresh.

The keyword the author had targeted was “local marketing guide,” for which he currently ranks second overall in Google.

The interlinking has also helped several of the other subposts end up on the first page of search results, such as Adwords for local businesses.

Why do topic clusters work so well?

One reason is that the main page has so much content and so many links that people tend to stay on the page and the site.

Duct Tape Marketing’s bounce rate for their Ultimate Guide is almost zero. Google translates this to be high engagement, which is exactly what it’s looking for.

So how do you create a content package?

There are tools on the market that help you do this.

MarketMuse

MarketMuse helps you to identify content gaps within your website and in the market.

It can help you to build, organize, and optimize your content by the topic cluster to optimize your organic SEO.

Content Strategy

HubSpot has also launched their own content strategy tool.

They have designed it to help you create, publish, and report on your content by topic grouping.

LSIGraph

Another option is to use an LSI generator such as LSIGraph to identify keywords that are related to each other.

It’s a free tool that will provide you with related keywords for whatever term you search.

Google Search

Finally, Google is always an option.

After all, Google wants to provide searchers with the best results. This means it’s to their benefit to help you create the best content.

You can find relevant topic clusters using Google in three different ways:

1. Auto-suggest. As soon as you start typing, Google starts automatically populating suggestions of what it thinks you might be looking for.

For example, this is what I see when I start typing “search engine” into Google.

2. Related searches. After you hit enter, you can scroll down to the bottom of the search results page.

3. People also ask. For some searches, Google will also provide you with a “People also ask” section.

These are common questions Google is asked that it thinks are similar to what you’re trying to find.

Make sure your pillar topic is sufficiently broad enough to be the umbrella for the rest if you’re going to use a pillar page.

Then create separate linked posts for each potential subset topic that you grouped using one of the above-suggested tools.

Once you have content clusters or groupings, it’s also important to make sure you choose content types that align.

For example, consider the following:

On-site glossaries and FAQ pages are good ways to tackle simple keywords that may be searched by people in the informational stage.

Pillar pages, cornerstone content and blog posts are great for in-depth answers related to the informational stage, as well as targeting people in the navigational stage.

Once consumers are into the transactional stage, landing pages are a great way to use content to help close the deal.

Here’s a slightly different approach to lining up content type with buyer readiness stage:

Don’t forget the rest of your SEO arsenal.

This post has focused on how and why to transition from keyword targeting to focusing on customer intent and interest.

However, as I’ve mentioned, engagement is a driving factor in how Google gauges quality content that satisfies intent.

Because of this, we can’t forget the other areas of SEO that also impact engagement.

Technical and off-page SEO are just as important for positive customer experiences.

Off-Page SEO

Off-page SEO is primarily your internal and external link portfolio.

You need to develop a link building strategy that helps promote your site authority and helps show Google you’re a great match for customer intent.

One way to do this was mentioned earlier through the building of topic clusters and content packages.

However, you also need to keep a close eye on who’s linking to you, so that you don’t end up with backlinks that are spammy.

After all, backlinks are currently four of the top eight ranking factors.

To keep your links clean, I recommend conducting a link profile audit on a regular basis to see how things look.

If you find any questionable sites linking to your content, make sure that you disavow them.

Technical SEO

Technical SEO can sound complex, but I promise it’s not as bad as it seems.

It’s also a critical part of any SEO toolkit.

Here’s an excellent high-level summary from Moz on what parts of technical SEO you should begin to focus on:

When thinking about keywords from a technical standpoint, you need to consider three main areas.

1. Content tags

There are two main types of content tags you should focus on: H1 (headings) and H2 (subheadings).

H1 tags are your titles. H2 tags are subheadings.

You should still make sure one of your relevant keywords is in your H1 tag.

However, with the new algorithm changes, it’s less important that your H2 tags are riddled with keywords, and more important that they withstand a readability test.

Your content, including your subheadings, needs to be simple and flow well.

It should be written for someone reading at a 7th or 8th-grade level.

2. Site Speed

Google released an announcement in January that starting this July pagespeed will be one of their ranking factors for mobile searches.

Not only that, but 40% of your audience will abandon your website if it takes longer than three seconds to load.

If your page speeds are slow, your bounce rate will increase, causing Google to think that you’re not doing a good job satisfying customers.

3. Mobile friendliness

I’ve already mentioned the importance of mobile earlier in this article.

Mobile landing page optimization is vital now that Google has switched to a mobile-first index.

The number of mobile users continues to every year. Last year 66% of the population had a mobile phone.

Strong technical SEO will help improve important ranking factors such as time on page and bounce rates, by improving the user experience.

It should not be overlooked in any strategy, particularly as the importance of providing outstanding customer experiences increases.

Conclusion

Thanks to advances in technology, the algorithms used by search engines like Google are getting more advanced.

Instead of focusing on simple metrics such as keywords, they are now looking for content that provides value and engagement to audiences.

Google’s algorithm is continuing to advance toward voice search and conversational phrases.

This means the exact wording used in search boxes is becoming less important in which results rank well.

To get your content in front of your desired market, you need to focus on intent, interest, and engagement of customers.

You will need to account for the growing use of Mobile and Voice apps and ensure your content is optimized for them.

Then you need to engage your audience is make sure you understand what their intent is.

Make sure you understand what people are really looking for when they use certain keywords.

This means combining their searcher intent with where they are in the conversion funnel and using your content to target them properly.

You can use tools such as Behavior Flow, Site Search or Heat Maps to better understand the interest and intent of your current audience.

Then you can focus on building out in-depth topic clusters and content packages to target different customers.

Create ultimate guides and resource centers for customers early on in the conversion funnel.

Build out leadpages and conversion posts for customers near the bottom of the funnel.

Finally, continue to use keywords, but use them the right way. Don’t keyword stuff your posts. Looking for short phrases and referencing them multiple times is no longer enough.

However, you can use keywords to help you understand searcher intent and to build context into your articles and guides.

What tool are you using to cluster your content around customer intent and interest?

About the Author: Neil Patel is the cofounder of Neil Patel Digital.

Stop Targeting Keywords and Start Targeting Customers

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: After Years of Research, Minimalist Composer Julius Eastman Gets the Tribute He Deserves

Arcana New Music Ensemble performs “Femenine” by Julius Eastman (image via thatwhichisfundamental.com)

PHILADELPHIA — Tiona Nekkia McClodden gets up from the wide, white table in the back of the gallery. I follow her over to a framed newspaper clipping, and she’s already there pointing at it, ecstatic, “Like, he really says this shit: ‘I always thought I was great, and it really shouldn’t be so hard, but I was shocked at how the processes were so slow.’ I mean, [Julius] Eastman was like, ‘I’m bad, and I’m doing all this wild stuff, and I can talk about it.’” McClodden, a Philadelphia-based curator and artist, is not alone in her excitement for Julius Eastman, the late and much-mythologized minimalist composer who defied convention during his nearly three-decade career. “That’s what makes me really respect the wildest things that I’ve heard about him because I knew that if I had access to him he’d be able to tell why he did that,” McClodden said.

Recent years have brought a renewed interest in Eastman after he was mostly forgotten in the decade after his untimely death in 1990. However, this interest has been, at times, at the expense of historic and compositional inaccuracy, with performances or releases moving forward without permission or aid from the Julius Eastman Estate, which is headed by Julius’s brother, Gerry Eastman, an accomplished musician in his own right. The most conspicuous offender of late was the 2016 London Contemporary Music Festival, which staged a three-day series billed as “the world’s first major overview of Julius Eastman” this past December without approval or collaboration with Eastman’s estate.

Gerry Eastman has argued for the necessity for care and consideration of his brother and his work. What remains of it exists largely in precarity due to the nature of the work itself, which often featured loosely ascribed improvisation that he performed or directed himself, and the whims of Eastman who was categorically indifferent to materialism. A much repeated anecdote is that he lost a large portion of his work near the end of his life when he was thrown out of an apartment when he refused to pay the rent. This working philosophy of Eastman’s left much of his work in a fragile state, though it isn’t indicative that he wasn’t specific and deliberate. It often seems the thing that’s needed to complete his compositions is the presence of Eastman himself. The most successful interpretations of his music to date have been quick to recognize this, notably Jace Clayton’s ambient manipulations in “The Julius Eastman Memory Depot,” and is why a comprehensive orchestration has remained elusive until now.

Installation view of “A RECOLLECTION.” with Tiona Nekkia McClodden, curator. (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)

For the past three or so years, McClodden has been working alongside Dustin Hurt, executive director of Bowerbird, a nonprofit performing arts center in Philadelphia, and with the Julius Eastman Estate, to bring the most — perhaps only — authoritative production of Eastman’s music to fruition since his death. Bowerbird has found generous support in Philadelphia, with the Pew Center for Arts & Heritage issuing two separate grants in the last few years to aid in the research process and the production of Eastman’s music. Eastman also had ties to Philadelphia: He received his formal music education at the Curtis Institute of Music, though his time there was marked by institutional racism, as he was denied sponsorship and housing; he resided at a nearby YMCA from his first year until his graduation in 1966.

Friday, May 5, marked the start of Bowerbird’s production, “Julius Eastman: That Which Is Fundamental,” with a concert of two of Eastman’s most recognizable works, “Stay On It” (1973) and “Femenine” (1974), at the Rotunda in Philadelphia’s University City. Last Friday saw the second concert in the series, and there are two more scheduled this month at the Rotunda; meanwhile, the neighboring Slought Gallery is hosting a split exhibition centered on Eastman’s life and work, Predicated and A Recollection.

Installation view of A Recollection at Slought Gallery showing facsimiles of original Eastman scores. (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)

A Recollection gathers a mix of press clippings, concert posters, photographs found through friends and lovers, some archival recordings — a version of “Trumpet” (1970), newly sourced from a found reel-to-reel, played in the background while I was there — and six full scores readily available for viewing, including “Thruway” (1970) and “Colors” (1973). Predicated occupies an adjoining gallery and is a cross-disciplinary conversation with Eastman’s work, including new and existing video, painting, sculpture, music, and performance from Sondra Perry, Carolyn Lazard, Texas Isaiah, and Wayson R. Jones, among others. Though Eastman is known as a composer, he was virtuosic in other mediums as well. He was a choreographer, dancer, actor, painter, and occasional poet, and some of his musical compositions featured these components. They have proven to be the most ephemeral parts of his practice as an artist, and even less of this work survives. Predicated intimates these mediums of loss, standing in and drawing out work that might have been. As McClodden explained it, “[Predicated] is Eastman in my mind, my nightmares, my biggest dreams of what this cat looks like, feels like.”

Installation view of Carolyn Lazard, “Score for Convalescing 1, 2, and 3” (2017), dimensions variable, in Predicated (photo by the author for Hyperallergic)

It’s partly this idea of searching out a person who seems relatively mysterious that has drawn such vehement interest in Eastman, but the fervor over his work also stems from his identity: Eastman was an out, gay, black man composing classical music while his contemporaries, at least the ones associated with minimalism — Philip Glass, Steve Reich, La Monte Young, et al — were mostly straight, white men. Where his contemporaries have seen their work produced ad nauseam and entered into posterity, Eastman worked in contention with a system that favored those with privileged access. Aware of these dynamics when he was alive, he found profound meaning in impermanence. “There’s statements where he’s like, ‘I don’t give a fuck about [keeping a record of what I’ve done],” said McClodden. “I’ll do it again. The music is in my head.'” Eastman was also purposeful in composing provocative and, more to the point, transgressive work. He was a downtown, gay aesthete and transformative artist of color, crafting what he would eventually call “that thing which is fundamental.” The titles of his compositions, for instance “Evil Nigger” (1979) or “Gay Guerrilla” (1979), were an affront to straight and white sensibilities, and the music itself was transcendent and unabashedly spiritual.

The opening performance at the Rotunda presented two newly recompiled scores sourced from snippets of sheet music, historic recordings, and individual testimony. Though both compositions are notable, “Femenine” is of particular importance because of its length, roughly 73 minutes — a feat of utter endurance from the group of musicians, who were visibly exhausted and wrecked by the physical stress of the composition, which is an Eastman staple. This piece is also a metaphorical expression of gender; Eastman was known to transgress gender norms in his work, and though this was usually more overt, such as eschewing on occasion a men’s suit for a dress during piano performances, he was infinitely capable of subtlety as well: “Femenine” is composed around a whole-step measure, just E♭ to F played on a vibraphone, and the wild, layered instrumentation between those anchoring notes seems to expand the refrain itself as if it were illustrating something much more manifold and mystical.

Installation view of at Slought Gallery, Philadelphia (image courtesy Tiona Nekkia McClodden)

Much like the taxing work of performing his music, synthesizing the pieces of Eastman’s life is also exhausting. “I don’t know if he wants to be fully revealed,” McClodden said. “I mean, the more you read a little bit about the way he moved, he was very ephemeral. He didn’t really care.” Before I leave her, she’s back at the gallery table on a laptop, showing me some images that she couldn’t get permission to display, and sharing how when she started work on this project she had a naïve image in her head of Eastman just “lying in the flowers” and composing all day. She recognizes that even though she’s pulled together what she has of Eastman, he’s still so much farther beyond what she could ever know.

McClodden does have an actual image of Eastman making a painting surrounded by a field of flowers, though. She pulls it up, and we both laugh, and she says to me, “There’s a [companion piece to ‘Femenine’] called ‘Masculin’ that’s lost, and I just want to know: What did it sound like? There’s still hope.” She explains she’s in touch with someone in New York who performed with him and is willing to share an unknown recording. “This is what’s happening: You show and then the people, the oddest folks, are like, ‘I was there. I still have the sheet music.’ So, we’re going to meet with her, and I’m going to listen to this music and see if I can hear him. It’s really an exciting thing. He’s very alive. It’s not dead. It’s not finished.”

Julius Eastman: That Which Is Fundamental continues through May 26. A Recollection and Predicated continue at Slought Gallery (4017 Walnut St, Philadelphia) through May 28. 

The post After Years of Research, Minimalist Composer Julius Eastman Gets the Tribute He Deserves appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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