#the IMMEDIACY of his reaction GOT ME

[andromedasummer]

catching up on neverafter, on episode 9 and losing it at the part where they're like "WE ALL NEED TO KISS EACH OTHER" because through the the exclamations of "no!" "i am NOT kissing a child!" you can hear ylfa go "(pinocchio) we're age appropriate! kiss me!" and pinocchio go "what? OH, OKAY!" he is IMMEDIATELY up for it, lou got the depiction of a preteen boy down to a T

[aihoshiino]

chapter 140 thoughts!

Reminder: because of the content of this arc in genera and this chapter in particular I will unavoidably have to discuss CSA and topics related to it, including grooming, emotional abuse and sexual assault. I do not discuss them in great detail, but if you very understandably just aren't in the headspace for that, no hard feelings - look after yourself and I'll see you next time.

So a lot of stuff goes on in this chapter but weirdly, I feel like I don't have a lot of stuff to say about it compared to the last few. Partially because it speaks so strongly for itself but mostly because, sort of similarly to 137, this is just clarification and reiteration of some themes and information that's been floating around loosely for however many chapters and we are just now actually pinning it all down into something more coherent.

Or at least, 15 Year Lie is pinning this all down into something more coherent. We're definitely playing a bit more with like, presentation and diegesis in these sections of the movie than we were with previous scenes. With the B-Komachi scenes, we very rarely fully entered the in-universe diegesis of the movie and the scenes being filmed quite firmly remain scenes being filmed by actors who are having their own thoughts, feelings and character arcs both about and separate from the material.

By contrast, both this and last chapter lean more into presenting these scenes as full flashbacks, fully immersing us in the material that the movie's diegesis essentially overtakes and becomes the manga's diegesis. It not only creates a sense of immediacy but also one of authenticity - by removing all the reminders that this is something being manufactured, a piece of in-universe dramatized fiction, the reader is invited to accept it uncritically as fact.

And honestly? I think this is a very clever trick. While I do think the broad emotional arc and relationship beats we're being presented with here are probably more or less true, there's a big question still hanging over the movie's presentation of things: how much of this is true and why is it being shown to us? This is a movie about Ai's life supposedly, right? So if this is the case, what's with this sudden POV switch to Kamiki… and how exactly did Aqua (and the rest of his 15YL collaborators in general) get this level of insight into 'Boy A'?

But I'm getting ahead of myself a bit…

Like I said up top, I think a lot of this chapter kind of speaks for itself, so all I'm gonna say is that this did a huge amount to really endear me to the HKAI dynamic, at least as 15YL is portraying things. It's just such a nice change to see Ai bouncing off someone her own age, squabbling and getting along and butting heads like a regular kid. It does a lot to really get across just what it was about this relationship that drew the two of them to each other. They have a good rapport and some cute chemistry and I'm finding myself rooting for them even in spite of knowing how it all ends.

The scene of them at the restaurant was honestly just a complete and total delight. It's been so fucking long since we got any content of Ai just being her likable goobery self so getting to see that again (and her and Hikaru's shocked and appalled reactions to the bill) was just so good.

The short exchange that follows is also so, so important, I think. Similarly to an early AQKN moment, we are shown Ai from Hikaru's POV - in which she wears a lovely smile and stands framed as the focal point of not one but two panels of brilliant light. This feels like a sort of answer to something I noted last chapter where HKAI's relationship seemed to be in the process of echoing both the AQAK and AQKN relationships - in Hikaru, Ai sees someone who has the potential to understand her. In Ai, Hikaru sees light. I'm interested to see if this will keep getting reiterated on as we get more scenes of them together.

god the more details we get about Airi's abuse of Hikaru, the more vile she becomes. The money she gives him rings eerily true to the way real life abusers of this nature really do use money and material gifts as a method of control over their victims. And it's also not hard for me to see her as using this to frame things as somehow transactional - to pretend Hikaru has any power in this entirely unbalanced dynamic.

I continue to be impressed with how OnK is portraying Kamiki's abuse. As I mentioned last time, I often find that manga is pretty tasteless and sometimes even downright exploitative and offensive in its portrayals of sexual abuse, framing it in a titillating way for the viewer to gawk at. By contrast, not only is OnK's portrayal a layer removed from the actual events, being in-universe fiction, but it gives us no lurid details to gawk it. We are forced to look only at Hikaru's pain and the emotional reality of the horror and exploitation he's experiencing and the story dares us to flinch and look away. Just like plenty of people do.

I also really appreciate that the story leaves absolutely no room for plausible deniability and just outright calls Airi exactly what she is: a pedophile. I was a little worried with last chapter that there was going to be an element of like 'oh Hikaru is just so cute even an adult woman can't help herself' but once again, the story pulls no punches in calling this abuse what it is and the perpetrator what she is. Harrowing as the material is, I'm glad that it's being handled well thus far and I hope Akasaka doesn't flub it.

that said i have to ask. where in god's name is the intimacy coordinator on this set.

The scene that follows is also very interesting for all the reasons I mentioned above. For Oshi no Ko as a manga, it's clear this material is here to challenge the reader and ask us to see Kamiki as human, to try and empathize with him despite his reprehensible actions. What purpose this monologue serves for the in-universe 15 Year Lie movie is less clear. But in both circumstances, I still have to ask: to what end, exactly?

After all, isn't this a movie overflowing with spite and hate? A script written for Aqua's revenge that will allow him to kill his father? If so, why are we being challenged to empathize with Kamiki? Why did Aqua write a script that portrays his father as a victim? And how, exactly, did he come to such a deep and nuanced understanding of this man he hates so much when it took Ruby three and a half mental breakdowns to start understanding her beloved mother?

This all raises a whole lot of questions about exactly what the final movie is going to turn out like and exactly what purposes it really serves and I'm tentatively excited to get some answers. I'm definitely still more than a little fatigued with the movie arc as a whole and a lot of my biggest issues with it have yet to really be resolved but I'm at least more interested than I have been before about where things are going to go.

Holy crap, no break next week… are we beating the biweekly allegations, gang???

[pollyssecretlibrary]

“Reckless”, by Elsie Silver

This is the fourth book in the “Chestnut Springs” series

⭐️⭐️⭐️.5 stars

Where is the Elsie Silver from the first two books in the "Chestnut Springs" series? "Reckless" is the fourth book in that series and the last to be published so far (there is one more to complete it) and, although I liked it, I don't think it was written for me. By this I mean people like me, let me explain: I have a feeling that this book, the story of Winter and Theo, is aimed at the TikTok generation. A book with a fairly fast pace that despite everything does not feel wrong for the story but it constantly gives immediate satisfaction just like TikTok videos, Reels, or Stories do. I am more of a delayed gratification type of person, I want my prize not to come too early, I need to see how a relationship develops, I need a romance to focus on feelings not sensations. Because Theo and Winter clearly have feelings for each other, but the reader has to read between the lines to deduce that these feelings exist, since what you read on the entire page and throughout the book are sensations, instinctive reactions, chemistry (there is a lot of chemistry between Theo and Winter), and indirect actions. Love is expressed not through words or physical closeness (although if we talk about that kind of closeness, you know what I mean, then yes), it is expressed through characters' behavior. A behavior that does not always have to do with the relationship between them, but it usually involves third parties, especially their daughter. This is how it is crystal clear to us that the first to fall in love is Theo.

I liked the characters a lot, although I must point out that Winter seemed much more real to me than Theo. He is too perfect, if we had a list of all the things that women look for in our partners, like a portrait of the ideal man, Theo would fulfill all of them and then some. I really liked his development as a character, don't get me wrong, but being that ideal makes him so hard to believe and most of the time he would do something that any woman would dream her partner would but doesn't always do it, he had me commenting: “oh, but of course you do, Theo, you're perfect." Lastly I want to point out another small problem with this book. Due to its immediacy (I am remembering Tom Hiddleston and his “Delayed gratification”), there is a moment in the beginning when there is a jump of 18 months, which is the time that Theo and Winter are separated, and also the time when Winter lives her entire pregnancy, gives birth to Vivi, and 9 more months pass, when they meet again, they are both different people in the sense that they have lived, they have matured, they have grown... and that character development time does isn't there. As for Winter we can perfectly imagine what she's been through but not with Theo, I can't talk about character development or evolution when I haven't witnessed that evolution and it's all because of immediacy. And the worst of all, the false feeling I got that the author might have wanted to get rid of this story, when actually I know that this is not true, because thanks to the social networks I knew how she felt during the writing process. So this story of a woman who has a one-night stand with a guy who is the complete opposite of her and gets pregnant (but doesn't hide it) at a very confusing time in her life, with a marital and a family situation hanging from a thread has been entertaining and beautiful, but without too much depth. Mind you, Winter is the best built female character in the series. The irony.

[nellie-elizabeth]

Barry: it takes a psycho (4x04)

Well. I am sad.

Cons:

One of the things about this show that always takes me just slightly out of the moment is when Sally is "acting". Because the woman playing Sally is a good actress, absolutely. But how good am I, the viewer, meant to think that Sally, the character, is as a performer? I find it frustratingly ambiguous, and maybe that's the point, but I always get taken out of the immediacy of the scene a bit. When Sally examples the monologue to try and help Kristen, am I supposed to be impressed? Or embarrassed for her? A little of both? When it comes to the commentary on Hollywood and acting in general, the show is clearly trying to say something, but I feel like I never quite know what that thing is.

Pros:

It's a brilliant move to keep Barry out of the majority of this episode. He's escaped from prison, we don't know where he is or when he'll pop up. It's like he's a slasher villain, in a way. Super effective way to build tension through every moment in all the scenes, whether with Hank, Cousineau, or Sally. And then when he does turn up, it's to find Sally ready to drop everything and run with him. Which I both did and did not expect to be how it happened. I find it fascinating that Sally's willingness to run with Barry is completely dependent on how poorly her own life is going at the moment. She's on the cusp of opportunities, but she's being overlooked in favor of the taller, more curvy acting student Kristen who doesn't actually have her talent. Then Barry is there, and you can basically see it take over her face: fuck it. Let's go. I loved Barry's reaction, that meek little "really"? As he kind of can't believe the thing he's been wanting but which seemed so improbable, is actually happening.

And we also see the weird... daydream? Flash-forward? Of Barry and Sally older, seemingly with a kid, who Barry goes to comfort after he gets into a fight with another boy. What a weird insight into Barry's fantasies, if indeed that's what we're seeing, where his image of a family with Sally is framed through his son being upset and violent.

Cousineau gets taken to his cabin where he'll be out of the way, but when he learns that Barry is free from prison and on the loose, he's terrified that he's going to be killed. He shoots Leo, who came to bring him food, and as the episode ends we're actually not sure how badly Leo was wounded. Not a ton happened here, other than us just not being sure how much Barry even cares about vengeance, how much danger Gene is really in. It's interesting how this show very convincingly makes every character the main character of their own story. Cousineau is understandably terrified about Barry coming for him, but we're not sure if Gene is even on Barry's radar, or if he's just focused on running.

I never thought I'd feel sympathy for Fuches, but my god, it was rough watching him get beat up! He doesn't actually know where Barry is, but there was still the suggestion that he wouldn't turn on him no matter how much he got beaten up by the guards. It's so strange, watching this man have such... loyalty, to Barry? If that's even the right word? Parental responsibility, maybe? I find it so fascinating. Fuches is a character where I have genuinely no idea where they're going to take him by the end of the show, and there's so little time left to find out!

And of course I've saved Hank and Cristobal for last. Jesus Christ, this was a torturous half hour of television to watch with my eyeballs. I was vibrating out of my chair, it was so stressful and viscerally awful and sad.

Just the tragicomedy of Hank being a total sociopath and giving all these dudes a fun little party before murdering them in a sandpit... like I feel like if you tried to explain that this is what happens in the show to someone who's not watching it, it just sounds so stupid and baffling and this strange mix of horror and cartoonish, and... yeah. It's brilliant. Cristobal shouting for Hank's help is going to haunt me.

And then that breakup, and Hank sobbing, and the unceremonious, off-screen way Cristobal is shot and killed... like, fuck me up. The roller coaster I have been on with these two characters. When last season ended with Hank going insane to save Cristobal, you wanted them to be happy, you wanted them to have some sort of peaceful retirement. It's heartbreaking that Cristobal had these genuine dreams of going legit and finding a less risky way to make money and live a comfortable life, but that Hank is too afraid, or too ambitious, or both, to be able to get on his wavelength. He lied, he did an insane thing, he murdered a bunch of people, and he thought Cristobal would just fall in line and be cool with it. Barry and Hank have a hell of a lot more in common than I'd previously appreciated.

I can't wait to see what Hank is like now that all the happiness and light has been sucked unceremoniously out of his life. This show makes me want to watch everyone just take the darkest possible turn into violence and despair. It's going to be amazing.

9/10

[ofdeference]

Tseng can not presume to know the contents of the documents in question nor does he suspect he could understand half of what lay within. What he does know is that if Nero asked for it, nothing good would come of giving it to him.

The cost to pay for betrayal he knows all too well and the visceral reaction that courses through him rejects any reality in which he is subject to it. Wordlessly he reaches for the gun on his hip, unholstered and set upon the desk handle facing the man.

"What you're asking is tantamount to suicide. So after whatever horrors you want to concoct, feel free to end my life here, as I will be of no use to you." A pause in the good nature of preserving his own life, an 'out' for his newest Turk. "Unless there is something else you want. Something that does not come at so steep a price that I would be willing to pay." Not that he thinks for a moment that his life holds any significance to him. No love between them, no comradery.

There was little to no forseeable use for the Tsviet outside of the immediacy of a mission which the Turks themselves could not handle alone and thus so very little occasion for them to 'bond', if the being standing before him now could even form attachments. All that he knew was that Shinra had its daggers in him from birth and, judging by what the SOLDIER program produced in the essence of its firsts, he could only surmise that he, much like they, had little social construct on which to build.

Insurance they called him. And like any asset dispatched would be used as such. Until then, however, he was nothing more than an unruly child. Terrible, brilliant, pliable, but a child none-the-less.

"You've got a lot to learn about the world if you think demanding death in whatever form it takes is the way to get others to help you. Just as I must sweeten the pot, you must give me an amicable out that not only benefits you but does not damn me."

interesting.

in truth, weiss is the better negotiator - though that is because he rarely has to bargain for anything. his smile is like the sun itself, when you are under its glow all things feel possible. you would die for him, you know that, he would not even need to ask.

nero is different. he is the knife in the dark, pressed to the small of your back. a quiet threat for your co-operation or else. rarely do they live long enough to provide him anything worth while, for he tends to kill once he has what he wants.

and that may still be true, if he plays his cards right. there is every chance that the turk could rat him out to his superiors, but nero doubts he's willing to face those demons again.

"information," nero says, more immediately than he would have liked. "i require the files concerning the sable and the immaculate, unredacted. provide me those, and i shall be as obedient as any of your other hounds."

there is no cure for the virus, but there is an off-switch. one that has been employed when a restrictor has 'retired' and another has stepped in to take their place. nero knows it, all he needs is to do is access the console and then weiss will be free.

there's something sharp to his gaze. an alertness that was not there before. nero rarely seems fully awake, fully present, as though he's long resigned himself to a long life he has no interest in living. yet there's something more animated to the line of his mouth, a life that he tries to smother.

something like hope, unfamiliar and out of place on his face as it may be.

"betray me and i will drown you in that despair."

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

[formulatrash]

hi! It’s totally fair if you don’t want to answer this question for whatever reason but, do you think there are any drivers in F1 that are part of the LGBTQ+ community? I don’t want to speculate on anyone’s sexuality, but it is a bit disheartening at times to see no representation whatsoever in the sport that I love so dearly... at the same time, it’s nobody’s duty to become a symbol for the community just because they’re a part of it, so I’d understand if they wanted to keep that low key, especially considering the amount of fans that would hate them for that only. It just makes me sad sometimes, not gonna lie.

I'm not gonna speculate publicly in any specific way, obviously. But statistically, it is impossible that there have never been LGBTQ+ F1 drivers - and actually there were two out ones, in Mike Beuttler (who sadly died of AIDS) and Lella Lombardi.

In other series, there are openly out drivers - in fact W Series seem to be basically incapable of stopping the drivers getting together, which is awesome and they should do it. And also kinda gives a lie to the idea rivals wouldn't.

There is a split between women's and men's sports in that basically sporting ladies seem to be like "wow, fit women time to openly drool over each other" and men being more pressured to keep it strictly no homo. It's nice that F1 drivers lately have been definitely more comfortable with being affectionate to each other and with deviating from very restrictive ideas of masculinity, although obviously that does not in any way imply their sexualities or gender status.

I think there are many reasons to be optimistic that an F1 driver could come out. Motorsport's landscape has changed - and the world, too - but of course, as you say, being the first is a sucky job and not, heh, one of the good kind.

Would they face some challenges? For sure. Some locations would be difficult - the UK, for instance, if a driver came out as trans. God, just imagining the thinkpieces from TERFs has made me nearly pass out.

I am sure there are LGBTQ+ people in the paddock beyond, whether that's in the media cohort (I mean, lmao, I am typing this why do I always exclude myself lol) or in the garages. And of course, the fans. As much as F1 talks about (even pre-pandemic) existing in its own bubble, of course it does not and while demographics are often skewed towards wealth and white western europeans, that doesn't affect the distribution of LGBTQ+ people.

Will it be godawful for the person who takes the first step? Yeah. You can't get away from the fact casual homophobia is pretty rife in F1, I'm regularly appalled by the sort of shitty jokes members of the media - who you'd think might be a bit less stuck in the jurassic period - will default to. Lots of people in F1 think they're a bit hardcore, that that's part of the image of the sport and it comes with both a strict conservatism and edgelord tendencies.

I think, with the right support, though, they'd be ok. Drivers generally have much better support systems now than ever before and god knows, it's cus they need 'em. From social media to the immediacy of reaction, everything from onboards to team radio to their Insta likes is under scrutiny and of course, that's gonna feel pretty oppressive in some ways.

(I know I hate it, as someone who gets a low-level version of it on Twitter)

But would their team or sponsors or the sport at large lose faith? No. And there would be, in the torrent of horrible stuff that's inevitable with any of these things, such support and inspiration.

It's a bit of a burden, being a figurehead and it's very easy to see why, for example, Lewis shrugged it off for a lot of his career because fuck knows, everyone's got enough to be getting on with with just the basic challenges of the career let alone having to be a representative. And it's why, with aspects you're not able to hide, people struggle - whether that's race, gender or whatever.

Living in the closet isn't a very satisfying option, though; which is the most convincing argument for how there might not have been any LGBTQ+ drivers other than the ones we know about. But it's more likely they grinned and bore it, of course. History's littered with people who never got to truly live as themselves.

It's very good having someone like Matt Bishop in a prominent role in F1. Because he can speak beyond the theoretical; that a team can welcome a gay head of communications and the paddock will have to and can work with them. That he's in a relative position of power is great because it means people can't chat shit and that means for someone without that relative power, they're protected by extension.

Who knows when more LGBTQ+ people will come along to the sport - but I think there's reason to be hopeful that they can be there.

[darling-i-read-it]

Sakizuki

2x02

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, mental health problems, jail, dead bodies

Author’s Note: Not sure how I feel about this one but I figured I’d throw a wrench in and see where it takes us 

Official Episode Summary : The body of one of Hannibal's victims turns up, carrying valuable evidence for the team; Will works to prove his innocence; Jack submits to mandated therapy; Will has an unexpected visitor.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List: @llperfectsymmetryll

(not my gif) 

(Bottom two gifs @/whatthekatzdraggedin)

Alana and Hannibal walked on either side of you into the hospital. You don’t think you had ever been in a room with both of them at the same time. It was cold. The air nipped at your hands as you were outside and it wasn't that much better inside. 

“Chiltons establishment is colder than the weather,” you muttered. Alana scoffed and nodded, looking around.

“It’s as cold as he is,” Alana muttered.

“There are likely cameras around,” Hannibal said, glancing around the room. “But I agree.” You smiled softly and nodded. The three of you walked into the large room, many small cages that resembled a carnival sized tank around the room. Will was inside one. 

“Hello,” Hannibal spoke first. Alana and Hannibal stopped a few feet away. You walked a step further and Will gave you a sympathy look. He at least knew that you weren’t scared of him. 

“I’ve lost the plot,” Will said after a moment. “I’m the unreliable narrator of my own story.” His words stung right where it hurt. “I’m trying to place myself somewhere in the frame of my mind and I have no bearings. No landmarks to tell me who I am.” 

“You have an incomplete self. We are who we are in the now and we are the sum of our memories. There are pieces of you...you can’t see,” Alana explained. Her voice gave her away. She cared about Will quite a lot. 

“I’m afraid to see. I don’t know who I am anymore and I’m afraid,” Will muttered. 

“Without remembering, you’re seized by something imagined. It has the brilliant immediacy of a childhood fantasy and if just as real,” Hannibal whispered. Will finally looked at Hannibal and his eyes brimmed with tears.

“I don't know what’s worse. Believing I did it or believing you did it...and did this to me.” 

Something about that sentence sat wrong with you immediately. Will would never give up all of his cards this early but you didn’t say that out loud. 

“Hannibal’s not responsible, Will. And neither are you. We have to get the truth of what happened. It’s the only way you can move forward,” Alana said. 

“What do you think?” Will asked. His voice shook. 

“I don’t think you did it,” you said honestly. Behind you, Hannibal’s eyes met the back of your head. 

“That isn’t helping,” Alana told you. 

“I stand my ground Alana,” you said, voice breathy and far away as you and Will stared at each other. He was trying to tell you something. 

“Let us help you, Will. Let me help you,” Hannibal said. Will clenched and he was trying to hold something back.

“I need your help.” Will started to sob and you took an instinct step forward. Hannibal grabbed your arm and held you back so that a guard didn’t yell at you. Still, your other hand was held up a bit, wanting to comfort him

-

When Alana and Hannibal left you stayed back, walking with the guards to WIll’s cell. As the guards went away Will’s eyes went up to yours and they were even, much more even than they had been crying a few minutes before.

You scoffed.

“I knew something was wrong.”

“I figured you had.”

“But you can’t tell me the angle,” you said. He nodded.

“I don’t exactly trust your relationship with Hannibal right now,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” 

“I can’t trust what he wants with you.”

“But my feelings toward him?” Will looked at you as you stood at the white line. 

“I know you believe me. I also know that you have your own emotions about Hannibal Lecter. It is now a cat and mouse game and I don’t know whose involved and whose who.” 

“But the three of us-”

“Yeah. It’s the three of us.”

-

You stood in the waiting room of Hannibal’s office. You were back at work although it was more support from Hannibal than work. You just made sure everything was in line. The front door opened, much to your surprise. Your mind almost thought it was Will because you hadn't been there since Will had been arrested really. Working at least.

A pretty woman walked up with you. You gave her a smile and she gave one back.

“Do you have an appointment?” you asked. She looked at you for a moment and didn’t answer you. You waited patiently. 

“No,” she said quietly. “Is he free?” You nodded.

“You can just knock, I don’t think he’s doing anything.” She continued to stare at you and you were getting self conscious.

“Are you Y/N Graham?” 

“Will and I aren’t married. But yeah, I’m Y/N,” you said. You suddenly recognized her from perhaps a picture you had seen before. “You’re Bedelia.” She nodded.

“Pleased to finally put a face to the name.”

“Hannibal talks about me?” She laughed and nodded.

“You and Will are often a topic that comes up. I’m glad I got to see you before I go.” YOu raised an eyebrow.

“Go?” 

“I should probably go see Hannibal,” she said and you nodded, agreeing.

“It was nice to meet you Bedelia.” She gave you a curt nod and disappeared inside. 

A few minutes later Bedelia left and Hannibal walked outside.

“Were you dumped?” you asked. 

“It seems so. Would you like to go to a morgue with me?” You laughed and shrugged. You weren’t quite prepared for that question but nothing surprised you anymore.

“Will Jack be there?”

“Yes.” 

“Let’s go.” You got up and walked over with Hannibal out of the door together. You walked to Hannibal’s car and got into the passenger seat.

“You know the FBI is looking over him, yes?” he asked. You nodded. 

“Alana showed me her papers she was keeping in. A saving grace, that woman,” you whispered. He nodded.

“And hopefully Jack will see the error of his ways,” Hannibal said.

“More importantly, hopefully the law will see the error of his ways.” Hannibal nodded and pulled out of the parking lot.

-

You sat at the white line.

“I don't trust therapy,” you said. “With Hannibal at least.” Will laughed bitterly.

“Are you or are you not going with him to crime scenes?”

“I haven’t been to one yet,” you admitted. 

“Yet being the key word here.” You messed with your hands. Will was also sitting on the ground. There was a chair in the back but you preferred being at the same eye level. 

“I won’t if you don't want me to.” 

“No,” he said and clenched, shaking his head. “Go. I wanna know how it’ll turn out from an unbiased source.” 

“Bev has come to see you,” you muttered. He sighed.

“I was hoping you weren’t going to know that.” 

“Hannibal told me actually.” You glanced at the ground then back at him. “Are you sure-”

“It’s all that feels right or sane right now,” he told you. 

“Then I may as well see the murders,” you said. He nodded. 

“You know normal couples would talk about what’s for dinner? How work was?” he said. You laughed.

“It’s your fault you had to get yourself arrested.” 

“It was Hannibal.”

“I heard you the first time Graham.” 

-

“The three of you make a good team,” Bev said as you walked through a corn field with a silo. You nodded, shrugging. You and Hannibal were with the BAU, looking into the murders. The bodies had finally been found, with help of Will, Hannibal and you. You had little input but your brain was trained enough by Hannibal and Will to know more than the average person.

“We’ve been told that a few times,” you said as you walked up to the silo.

“We do make a good team,” Hannibal said. Jack walked up to you three and let out a sigh at the sight of you.

“You don’t work for me. And we’re being investigated, how would it look with the ex girlfriend of a man being convicted of murders under my supervision?” Jack asked Hannibal.

“I’m still his girlfriend. And he hasn't’ been convicted of anything.”

“She works for me. I like to have her around.” You nodded.

“He likes to have me around,” you echoed. 

“Well then follow me. Might want to prepare yourself. You haven’t seen anything like this before.” 

“I’m sure I haven’t,” Hannibal said. 

You walked into the plethora of bodies. Hannibal expected you to wince, cringe, at least at the smell. But you stepped inside and there was no reaction. He watched your face turn from nothing to facinsition as you kneeled over the bodies.

“How can being human go so bad?” Jack asked.

“When it comes to nature versus nurture, I choose neither. We are built from a DNA blueprint and born into a world of scenario and circumstance we don’t control,” Hannibal said. 

“Praise the mutilated world,” you whispered. 

-

A while later you walked out to the car. Hannibal was driving ini silence before he finally spoke up.

“Was that your first dead body? Or a group I would say.”

“No. I’ve seen a few when I came to visit Will in the morgue,” you asid.

“But never in a crime scene.” You nodded. “You took it very well.” You looked confused. 

“I suppose I did. Should I have?” Hannibal put his hand on yours and shook his head. He turned to you and pulled the car to the side of the road which surprised you but you didn’t protest.

“You have the same mind as Will,” he said. You raised an eyebrow.

“No I don’t. I can’t do what he does.”

“But you have an attraction to it. Likely the reason that you were attracted to Will in the first place,” he told you.

“I’m not your patient Hannibal.”

“You’re my friend.” You stared at each other and the car seemed to fill to the brim with used air as it became stuffy. 

Hannibal kissed you. 

You let him.

You pushed away after only a second but you stayed still. You didn’t speak, you only processed.

“I can’t,” you whispered. “I love Will. With my entire being,” you said honestly.

“Who says you can’t love us both?”

“Dammit Hannibal.” 

You stared at your hands. You hadn’t thought about that before. You shook your head and let out a small breath. 

“You’re framing my boyfriend for murder Hannibal.”

“You believe him I see.” He stared at you. “But you still let me kiss you.” He was right. You were so sure that Hannibal had killed people, that he had killed Abigail. And if that wasn’t true Will had. 

“Either way, my taste isn’t exactly the brightest,” you whispered. “I’ve kissed a killer either way.” You refused to meet his eyes. “Take me home please.”

He nodded, not needing to push it. You were in silence until you got to your home and then you waved goodbye but no other words were spoken. Your mind was plagued with enough thoughts you didn’t need words.

-

You walked down the hallway to Will’s cell. He was surprised to see you again so soon.

“Chilton let you back in?” 

“He likes our talks.” Your voice was monotone which put him off. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say to your tone.

“Something wrong?” 

You thought about it and then sat down on the white line. He did the same, reluctantly. You looked at your hands. 

“Hannibal kissed me,” you told him. You finally met his eyes and was surprised to find that he didn’t look angry. He just looked...amused.

“Took him long enough.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve figured he’d had it out for one of us since day one. It just happened to be you.” You shook your head.

“He suggested I just have both of you. Like all three of us. Then i reminded him he was framing you for murder and he seemed a little discouraged.” Will nodded stiffly.

“The FBI wants me to plead guilty. They said I’ll get the electric chair if I don’t.”

“I’m amazed how quickly you got over the polyamory plot point of this conversation. I mean what about the cat and mouse game?” He gave you a look.

“Don’t kiss him again. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I guess? I figured you’d be mad.” 

“I think it’s a problem for after proving me innocent. The cat and mouse game will continue and we have to play the right cards” he said. He was right. Your head was in the wrong headspace.

“You’re right. Screw the FBI. We’ll prove your innocence. Maybe we can even get Hannibal to kill someone for you.” He laughed darkly.

“I like where your heads at.” 

2x03

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Michelle Kiefer

Michelle has 55 stories at Gossamer. If you haven’t read them, what are you waiting for?! She has great takes on Mulder and Scully. I’ve recced some of my favorites of her fics here before, including Christmas in California, Making Other Plans, and Six Inch Valley. Big thanks to Michelle for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I’m not sure anyone is still reading my stories.  I haven’t migrated my X-Files ones to AO3. I don’t think Gossamer provides any viewing statistics. I’d be very happy to hear that people still like my work.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

My X-Files fandom experience was amazing.  I remember that sense of excitement and immediacy.  It was thrilling to write stories (and read those of other authors, of course) in an active fandom for a show that was on the air.  It was truly my first experience in an online world--a parallel world to my real life existence.  I learned how to keep a foot in each world.  As I recall, it was very hard to keep my focus in my “meat” world, when the online one was so fast moving and thrilling.  But I did get some balance in my life as time went on.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Message boards and mailing lists were my experience.  They were primitive compared to the pretty screens now.  I forged some amazing friendships, some of them with people I discovered lived relatively near me.  All I wanted to do was discuss episodes and fic.  The flame wars were a little intimidating, but also amusing if you didn’t get swept up.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I was very passionate about the fandom--as I said, there were times when my online life seemed to overpower my real life experiences.  I learned to manage that, and think I’m all the better for that.  And I found some amazing friendships that are active and thriving today.  I learned a lot about writing with XF fanfic.  The level of quality was stunning.  A decent percentage of fic were as good or better than traditional published fiction.  But there were so many writers!  I wanted to make an impact on the fanfiction world, but that meant taking my writing very seriously and learning to develop a story, pace that story, make it compelling and believable.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had a couple of coworkers that talked about the show all the time.  I was curious, so I watched an episode.  I believe it was the cannibal town one.  I thought David Duchovny was odd looking and wasn’t terribly impressed.  But I tried another episode - Wetwired, which blew me away with the morgue scene when Mulder thinks he’s going to identify Scully’s body.  Ah...I thought, now, I see what everyone is talking about!  And from then I was hooked.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As I watched, I wanted more.  I was fairly new to the internet (frankly, the internet was new to almost everyone)  I found episode reviews, and some of them were fantastic.  Some mentioned fanfiction.  I was unaware of such a thing, though to be honest, since childhood, I’d been spinning stories in my head about characters on TV shows.  I found some fanfic. The first couple of stories were not great (at least one was horrible) but then I found some that were very good.  Probably a bit soap-operaish, but still readable.  And then I became voracious as I plowed through the mass of stories looking for the good stuff.  And boy was there good stuff.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I’m not estranged from it, but I don’t spend much time with it after all these years.  I’ve found fanfic in some other shows that I like and only occasionally read old XF stories.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I’ve not been as involved with any other fandoms, i.e. following commentary on the show.  I tend to dive into TV shows well after their heyday, so I’m always late to the party. I do read fanfic from other shows, and have actually written fanfic for other shows, but I need a really good idea to write.  None of the other fandoms for my other shows are as busy and active as XF, even ones currently in production.  And none of them have as much fanfic and certainly not the level of brilliance that we had in XF.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to go for interesting partnerships, very much in the XF fashion.  And a flawed hero is always a plus!  The partnerships don’t necessarily have to be romantic---in fact I find I prefer those that are not.  Really, Mulder and Scully were the only ones I felt deeply as a pairing, probably due to the chemistry between the actors. But the partnerships have to be well-balanced and realistic.  I loved the characters on Sleepy Hollow.  The two main characters were very much in the mold of Mulder/Scully.

My newest passion is British detective shows and I’ve completely fallen for the “Morse-verse” shows, Inspector Morse, Inspector Lewis and Endeavour.  Less of an XF feel, but compelling characters with interesting backstories.  Other favorite partnerships in the British detective genre are on Inspector Lynley and Broadchurch.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

A bit less now, though I’m still involved with a wonderful group of ladies who love the X-Files.  When we get together for a yearly weekend, we binge episodes and eat impressive amounts of junk food.  XF isn’t on network TV these days, but if it was, I’d probably watch it.

A couple of years ago, I listened to Kumail Nanjiani’s XF podcast on my long commute.  I loved the commentary and interviews so much that I did watch some old episodes.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I don’t read much XF fic.  I’m currently reading in some other fandoms, but it’s harder to find good stories--the ones I follow aren’t very active these days and the quality just isn’t what XF was.  We were so lucky.  We had maybe 20 incredible top authors at any one time, then maybe another tier of 50 to 100  good to maybe great writers.  And with new episodes, there was so much inspiration. We were so spoiled.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Everything from Syntax6, MaybeAmanda, Kel.  A special story for me was “Strangers and the Strange Dead” by Kipler because I remember reading that very early in the morning in my unheated basement in the winter because that was the only time I could use our single computer without others in the family complaining.  I remember actually gasping at the big reveal in the story.  I can even remember the story’s opening line!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I was just learning how to write fiction when I was involved in XF, so I’m not sure my best work is there, though the bulk of my stories are there.  I liked some of the work I did with others.  I wrote Bone of Contention and Out of the Everywhere with Kel and I think that those stories got the best aspects of both of our styles.  For stories I wrote myself, I think they’re not bad, but they are rather short and it’s always easier to maintain a theme and style for a short story.  I liked Black Cherry Velvet.  I’m writing some Inspector Lewis stories that I think are pretty good--they benefit from the years of experience that I was gaining through XF.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Never say never, but I probably won’t write more XF.  I used to burn with it, but I think that got burned out a bit.  Still, I have such wonderful memories of the whole period.  It might be worth looking at again.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

As I mentioned, I am currently playing in the Inspector Lewis world.  It’s sad--it’s a very small and not terribly active fandom.  Sad that my best work is in an inactive fandom where I’m lucky if 20 or 30 people are reading them.  It doesn’t help that I don’t write the most popular pairing.  

But I’m really enjoying it.  I occasionally write for Man From Uncle, which really shows my age, as that was a childhood obsession.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With XF, it was always a take on an episode--did I get a tiny idea that I wanted to develop, or was I not thrilled with the way something went on the show.  Now,  it’s usually a “what if” kind of thing where I get inspired by a possible event and explore how that would play out, i.e.  “What if this character had a one night stand resulting in an unplanned pregnancy?”  What would happen?  How would he handle the consequences of this?  How would it change his life?

What's the story behind your pen name?

It’s literally my own name.  I SOOOO wish I’d used a pen name.  But I was naive and fandom was so new to me that it never occurred to me that a pen name would be better.  I always told myself that my real name sounded like something made up, like a TV newscaster name, and I hoped people assumed it was a pen name.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband and my kids were the only ones who knew about it for many years. Then I went to a fandom/fic gathering for three days and had to explain to a few other family members and my work mates why I was going to Chicago on my own. It’s still mostly a need to know thing and they don’t really need to know.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 as msk.  And everything I wrote for XF is on Gossamer.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 2, 2021)

[wonjaekook]

beneath the daylight moon

CHAPTER 3.

Read Chapter 2 here!

“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during the daytime?”

Jaehyun didn’t know, nor did he care to notice that such a thing existed; it was a mystery to him, but you were a bigger enigma.

Jaehyun lowered his phone from his ear, nearly dropping it as he stared at the man opposite him. You and Jaehyun both spoke up at the same time, two voices raised in unison to ask the same thing. A name, which in this case served as a question of its own.

  “Johnny?”

It took Jaehyun a moment to process that you had just said his best friend’s name and he had to muster all the self-control that he could manage to not to turn and look at you in shock. Instead, he swallowed hard, continuing to stare at Johnny. He rose from the bench slowly, but quickly hurried over, a short laugh leaving his throat as he embraced him.

“When you asked for my address, I thought you were going to send me a package or something,” Jaehyun said through a grin, giving his friend a solid smack on the shoulder as they part, “not this.”

“Getting into the building was the hard part. I could’ve just gotten your address from Mark. Thankfully, your grandma was home to buzz me in. I think she loves me already.” Johnny’s familiar grin was like a piece of home. One would think that Jaehyun had gotten used to moving around, as he’d done so his entire life, but being in a new place was always somewhat strange. It was nice to see his friend again.

“Of course she does,” he said, unable to hide the happiness in his voice. “Are you here for business or for pleasure, then?”

“Why not both?” As Johnny started to talk more, Jaehyun remembered you. He did his best to resist looking over his shoulder at the place where he left you, but shifted on his feet impatiently as time went on. “...so, I hope your weekend is free so we can check the place out.”

Jaehyun nodded somewhat absentmindedly. “Yeah, sure, I’m free.”

“Since I’m here, do you want to do something now? Unless I interrupted you here?” Johnny’s eyes were warm, a soft caramel brown that shined with obliviousness.

“I can finish this up tomorrow afternoon.” He said it loudly enough that he hoped you heard. Though he didn’t leave off with much more to say to you, he felt like the conversation wasn’t even close to over. That’s how it always goes with you - something left unsaid, unfinished. One of the two of you always has to leave and, this time, it’s him. “I’ll make you something good for dinner as a welcome back meal.”

“I thought you’d never offer.” Johnny turned back towards the entrance to the roof, then stopped a moment later and faced outwards again, taking in the view. “By the way… it’s really nice up here.”

Jaehyun turned as well, following the general sweep of Johnny’s gaze, except really looking towards where he stood talking with you a few minutes ago. To his disappointment, but no great surprise, you were gone. “Thanks. I guess it is.”

In your room, you’re alone. After feeling Jaehyun’s touch, a warmth you were no longer accustomed to feeling, your contactless existence felt even more hollow. You’ll meet with him tomorrow, you decided, if not just to brush your hand against his once more. Also, because you have to talk about him. About visiting your body. And about Johnny.

Johnny... he’s back. He’s here. The notion terrified you and excited you at the same time. If your sister sees him…

You supposed you’re not the only ghost around these parts anymore.

After talking with you today and then having spent time with Johnny, one of the warmest presences in his life, Jaehyun lied in bed at the end of the night feeling far more relaxed than he had for quite a few days. That is, until he dug out the piece of paper your sister had given him. With his phone in one hand and the paper with her number scrawled on it in the other, he hesitated. The message was fully typed out, just a “Hey, this is Jaehyun from down the hall. Could you send me what hospital and room number Y/N is in?” but he couldn’t send it. He preoccupied himself with double-triple-quadruple checking that he typed her number in correctly, read his message over and over again for grammar and spelling mistakes, dwelled on other ways he could phrase it.

He thought about the look in your eyes on the rooftop. Though you had asked him to go, that lack of conviction on your face was what was making this message take fifteen minutes to send instead of just one. He usually thought of himself as an optimist, though now his mind was in a jumble, trying to figure what would really be the best thing to do. His thoughts spiralled in and out of doubt, wondering if you truly wanted him to do this, wondering if this will even work. Wondering, once again, if history was repeating itself.

Then, he remembered some wise words from his grandmother. ‘If you can try, you should. It may just be worth it.’ Though she probably hadn’t meant that saying for something like this, they were the last push he needed. He pressed send.

You watched from the hallway between your room and your sister’s as her phone lit up. Her hair was arranged in its usual nighttime style and she was just about to crawl under the covers of her bed when her eyes caught on the received text message. The small, pleasant smile that graced her worn face made you mirror her look. You could only hope that the news makes her sleep well tonight.

The text that Jaehyun was greeted with, about five minutes after he sent his own, was very straightforward. It contained the exact information he had asked for, including the address of the hospital, and ended with a ‘I don’t know how you know her, but thank you for caring.’

That night, his dreams were soundless, sightless, but filled with a kind of warmth that he couldn’t describe with words. It wasn’t at all a nightmare, but he still woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest.

This time around, Jaehyun didn’t avoid meeting you. If anything, he stretched the definition of ‘afternoon’ to be far earlier than most people think of it. He arrived on the roof at 11:30 in the morning and, at first, shuffled around the area, absentmindedly staring at different pots and gardening fixtures that he’d installed up here as he wished that time would move faster. After about fifteen minutes were spent unproductively, he decided that he might as well make use of his time. He spent another hour and a half heaving the bags of fertilizer that he brought up previously to where he needed them, packed it into the planters, and pulled weeds. The manual labor made him work up a sweat. Though he had gotten into the habit of bringing his own towel to wipe it away, a part of him still wished he had your handkerchief. His thoughts briefly wandered to you again - how you had handed him the item, what it means to you - and that seemed to be enough to summon you.

From the doorway to the stairs, you stood watching him for a moment. He wiped away sweat, shined in the sun, still glistened slightly despite the hat that he had started wearing, and crouched in front of a planter so that he could get a better look at the nothing that appeared to be growing in it. He didn’t notice you at first because your footsteps were soundless.

“That’s where you planted them, right? The Four O’clocks?” You saw his muscles tense in surprise, though that was the most reaction you got for sneaking up on him. Still, an apology left your mouth. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize, I just didn’t notice you until now.” His eyes shifted back to the planter in front of him. “And, yeah. They haven’t popped up yet for some reason, though. I’ll have to do more research.”

He stood, brushed his gloves against each other to get some of the extra dirt off, and removed them, stepping over towards where he had left some of his other stuff. As he walked, you trailed along next to him, watching the way a drop of sweat slid down from his hairline into his shirt. It had been a long time since you’d felt temperature - neither a cold breeze nor the sun’s warmth had touched your skin. You weren’t sure if you missed it or not. The only time you had really felt any heat were the times you touched-

The times you touched Jaehyun.

Something inside of you twinged with both pain and hope. If fate existed, he must be a sign of something good to come in your future, right? The key to all of this. Though just yesterday both of you realized that neither one of you had the answer to what was happening to you, you felt like all you could do was cling to even the smallest bit of feeling that he was returning to your life.

“I texted your sister.” He said, snapping you out of your thoughts. A small towel was in one of his hands, which he had clearly used to wipe away sweat while you were trapped in your thoughts. There was a small smile on his lips that you quickly mirrored.

“I know.” Slowly, you reached for his hands, taking one of them in your own, his palm gently held between yours. The warmth seemed to seep into your very being. You swore you could even feel the slight slick of sweat on his palms. “Jaehyun, thank you.”

He tilted his head and his smile became puzzled. “I haven’t even visited you yet.”

“Even just contacting my sister meant the world to her. And that means even more to me.” You tentatively released his hand, the feeling of aliveness quickly leaving your body. “When are you going to go?”

“I was thinking tomorrow.” The immediacy struck you. Tomorrow was so… soon. When you had forgotten your doubts for the last little while, they returned again.

“Tomorrow… tomorrow is good,” you forced yourself to say. The determination on his face told you more about him - once he’s set his mind on something, it’s hard to get him to diverge from that path. He was dead set on helping you.

Silence flowed between you for a moment, only the distant rushing of traffic from the small city below infiltrated the bubble of the rooftop. Jaehyun broke eye contact with you, his tongue flicking out as he nervously wetted his lips. “How do you know Johnny?”

You took a deep breath, like you would if you were trying to ease your nervousness when you were in your own body. “It’s not so much that I know him. It’s more my sister.” You stepped towards the railing at the edge of the building, looking out at the city and the blue sky above. It was far too early for a daytime moon, being a bit past noon. “They were a thing in high school. People really thought they would end up together forever, but college got in the way of that. Now, she’s with that… that piece of human trash that calls himself her boyfriend.” Though your tone had started off pleasant, wistful, remembering a softer past, it quickly turned bitter. Being stuck in the state you were in, you had spent more than enough time wandering aimlessly around your apartment, watching him do nothing all day, watching him waste time and resources. A part of you really believed that her current boyfriend was just a placeholder for the hole that Johnny left when he went away, but you didn’t tell Jaehyun that. It might be better just to leave your hypotheses to yourself for now.

Since you were staring out, speaking to the city air instead of facing Jaehyun, you couldn’t gauge his reaction. The more of your explanation he heard, the more surprise showed in his eyes. After you finished speaking, you took a moment, glared down at the city below, and then composed yourself and turned back around to look at him. He stepped forward, joining you against the railing. “That… explains a lot.” There was a strange smile on his face, like he was finally understanding something. “Johnny never really dated seriously in university. Always seemed kind of hung up on someone from the past. He never named her to me, in all the years I’ve known him.”

“You know him from college, then?”

He nodded. “Yeah. He’s my best friend. Small world, isn’t it?” You realized the particular irony of the statement to your situation, as you couldn’t leave this building, never mind the town, and let out a snort of laughter. “I guess that explains why he suggested we start the restaurant here.”

You stood in silence again, staring out at the rooftop garden instead of at the street below this time. Though some parts of the garden were still rough around the edges, it no longer looked like the roof was abandoned. The area teemed with new life, tiny splotches of green disrupting the brown of the soil and fertilizer as most everything that he’d planted had started growing by now. Everything except the Four O’clocks. “Jaehyun?” He looked towards you, humming in acknowledgment. “Even if visiting my body doesn’t help, I’m still glad that I met you.”

“If only it was under better circumstances,” he agrees. His eyes fell on the wall that led to where the mural was. “Hey, when you wake up, do you want to finish that mural? I think it would really tie this place together. I’ll even buy the paint for it.”

You looked in the same direction as him, the image of the unfinished painting clear in your head. Right now, you really had no desire to do anything with it, but you supposed that Jaehyun made a good point. “I guess. It would be nice to have a brush in my hand again.”

The sound of a car honking loudly from below shattered the tender moment, startling both of you. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, glancing at the incoming message from Johnny.

��Where do you want to go for lunch?’

“Shit.” He pushed off of the railing, standing up straight. “I forgot that I’m meeting up with Johnny and Mark in an hour.” He started to gather his stuff from the top of the crate where he had left it before glancing over and catching your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow? You won’t run away again?”

You shook your head. “See you tomorrow, Jaehyun.”

When he walked to the roof exit, he turned around to look at you again. You were seated on the old crate that he first saw you on, in those same dark denim overall shorts with the paint splashes and white tee. Like you could sense him staring at you, you turned slightly. As you did so, your image seemed to waver slightly, as if the sunlight was moving through your opaque being; a strange mirage in the afternoon air. He blinked and you appeared normal again, so he raised a hand in a final farewell for the day. After you returned the gesture, he disappeared into the stairwell.

For the rest of the day, he intermittently thought of you. Johnny and Mark largely kept him distracted, helping him plan some of the items he’ll have on the menu of his restaurant, what the interior could look like, what to name it. As they drove around after lunch, the conversation shifted.

“Dude,” Mark said, “I heard that Ten is also in town right now. You should visit him.”

“I haven’t seen him in years.” Johnny said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “It would be nice to catch up.”

Jaehyun chimed in at that. “Ten from high school?”

“Yeah. I’m kind of surprised that you remember me talking about him.”

“Do you still talk to anyone else from back then?” There was a slight insistence to Jaehyun’s voice that perplexed Johnny. Jaehyun knew he probably shouldn’t have been pushing this hard, especially since his best friend never opened up to him about it before, but he couldn’t help it. “There’s this girl who lives on my floor who seems about your age.”

“Are you trying to get me to hook you up with someone? It’s about time.”

“No,” Jaehyun said firmly, his eyebrows furrowed. “And you know I wouldn’t have a problem with that if I wanted to talk to a girl.”

“Tell that to your ex. If I hadn’t pushed you to talk to her-”

“I don’t want to talk about her.” There was a snap to Jaehyun’s tone that he usually didn’t use and it cut off the conversation quickly. Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat, checking his phone. Jaehyun almost decided to drop the topic entirely, but he felt like he owed it to you to ask. “The girl from my floor is named S/N L/N.”

The tapping of his fingers against the wheel stopped. Slowly, Johnny’s grip tightened. Normally, Johnny was in complete control of his emotions. Now, he didn’t seem angry, but it clearly evoked something in him when Jaehyun said your sister’s name. “Yeah. I know her.”

Mark nudged Jaehyun, raising his eyebrows in an attempt to communicate with him nonverbally. Jaehyun ignored the signal. “Were you close?”

Johnny shrugged, forcing himself to relax slightly as he drove. “You could say that.”

No one spoke for a while, until a familiar, nostalgic song played on the radio, reigniting the conversation. Jaehyun planned on leaving the conversation at that, inviting the two over for dinner. As afternoon turned to evening, they returned to his apartment complex. When he stepped out of the car, he couldn't resist looking up. The roof seemed like such a long way from here. He shook his head slightly to clear it and led his friends to his apartment. The elevator ride was short and empty of anyone but them, with Mark gushing about eating his food again. When the doors opened to his floor, he got out and nearly walked right past her. Johnny didn’t, though.

As soon as he exited the elevator, his friend saw her. Jaehyun stopped walking when he saw that Johnny wasn't with him and Mark. Johnny was having some sort of staredown with your sister. She had the same bag on her shoulder that she did the last time Jaehyun saw her, though the sunglasses were missing this time, leaving her expressions largely unguarded.

She seemed to swallow heavily, taken aback by this ghost from the past. “John.”

“S/N.” All Jaehyun and Mark could do was watch. They stared at each other for a moment longer before Johnny once again forced himself to relax a bit and offered her a small smile. “Jaehyun was telling me about how you live on the same floor.” “What are you doing back here?” She said, cutting right to the chase. She seemed far more outwardly unhappy to see him than he did to see her.

“Visiting. Probably going to move back soon, though.” He was watching, carefully assessing her reaction. He stood tall, his hands in his pockets, casual. She appeared much more stiff, weighed down more by life than he had been in the years since they’d seen each other.

“I thought you wanted to get out of this town?” There was a certain bitterness to her voice that was very personal. Almost resentful.

“You still remember that?”

“How could I forget?”

Jaehyun and Mark glanced at each other, wondering if they should do something. At those words, though, Johnny’s smile brightened slightly. “I’m glad I’m unforgettable.”

“This isn’t about you anymore.” Johnny’s face fell slightly at that, eliminating the slight cheer that he had just gained. “I have to go.” As she reached the elevator, she turned back to them, looking Jaehyun in the eyes. Her eyes were piercing, though they didn’t seem to hold any malice, only confusion. “You’re really strange, Jaehyun.”

It crossed Jaehyun’s mind that he might have started something far beyond his depth or control. After the elevator doors closed with her behind them, Johnny turned back towards him and Mark. “Dinner?”

As he cooked, Jaehyun watched the sun set outside the window adjacent to the kitchen section of the apartment. From here, he couldn’t see if the moon was out yet, but he thought about it and he thought about you. He wondered if you were thinking about him, too.

The way you thought about Jaehyun was with the sort of desperation someone who was hanging onto the edge of a cliff thought about a rope. Right now, he was your lifeline for more reasons than one. In your dark room, the emptiness felt suffocating. You lied sideways on your bed, staring at the ceiling, untaken by the sleep you no longer require. Back when you were alive, you might have taken the time to paint him, capture the way he had made you feel in the short time you’ve known him and the few conversations you’ve had with him. Then, you would have opened your sketchbook and flipped through the drawings from better days, ignored the darker sketches of more recent times.

You wondered if your sister had flipped through those drawings since it happened, seen the last picture you created. It was a self-portrait of sorts, though your eyes were filled with black and your limbs were strung up like a marionette. Out of control in your own life, close to being soulless. You didn’t know nor remember what had possessed you to draw it and you wished you had finished with something brighter. It didn’t matter anyways - the book was stuck on your shelf with some of your other things, out of reach of your touchless world. What did matter was what’s going to happen tomorrow.

The more you thought about it, the more the doubts bounced around in the transparent space of wherever you would call your mind now, the more Jaehyun visiting your body in the hospital seemed like a terrible idea. It has been a long time that you’ve been like this and it’ll probably be an even longer time if you somehow wake up. You weren’t sure you were ready to be exhausted like that again.

You thought about your sister and her hunched figure over the dimly lit coffee table at night, the bills piling up, each dollar that leaves her bank account only adding a single grain of sand to the hourglass of the life she’s built here. She never really talked finances with you, but you knew it was never easy. You covered rent, but she tried to keep all of her other bills away from you. You dreaded more than wondered what would happen should that hourglass finally become empty. How much time does this life have left?

It only took you a moment to leave your room and reach her. She was exactly where you pictured her, though she wasn’t staring at the bills, trying to crunch numbers anymore. Her gaze was on her lump of a boyfriend asleep on the couch. “S/N,” you couldn’t help but whisper, “just leave him. Go to bed.”

For a heartbeat, it almost seemed like she heard you, or was at least about to pay herself a courtesy, as she rose from her place at the table and walked the short distance to the hallway adjoining the living area to the bedrooms. Then, she stopped, stared at the ground, and turned slightly, laying a hand on his shoulder. He began to stir as she spoke. “Honey…” the word rang bitter in your ears, “come to bed.”

The look he gave her through bleary eyes showed a type of spiritual rotting that had its roots deep in his core. “Bitch, I was asleep. Can’t you leave me in peace for one night?”

“You’ll sleep better in bed than on the couch…” The meekness with which she spoke had you curling your hands into tight fists, your nails digging into your palms. Both she and you knew that no matter what she did, she would always be wrong in his eyes. Always. If she hadn’t woken him, he would’ve gotten angry in the morning instead, bemoaning how she hadn’t woken him and gotten him to sleep on the bed instead. You’d seen that exact argument happen before. You couldn’t say how many times you’d seen this exact scene, too.

He grunted, slowly getting up. “Is that so?” He tilted his head, cracking his neck in something of a stretch. “You think you know better than me?”

“No,” she flinched as he raised a hand, “I’m sorry.”

The grin that filled his face wasn’t bright. It was crooked, sick, and it made you want to vomit when you knew you weren’t even capable of doing so. Back when they first started dating, he was much better at hiding the pleasure he takes in “besting” her, but now he didn’t even try. As he walked past her, he bumped her shoulder with his arm, making her draw herself in, attempting to minimize the space she took up. After he was gone, more safely away from her in their bedroom, she sank down onto the couch, wrapping her arms around her torso. She stared at the scattered bottles and trash on the small side table next to the soft. It took about a minute before she leaned forward, resting her face in her hands, slow tears falling down her cheeks. You couldn’t bear to look at her like this. Back when you were in your own body, you never knew she cried like this. When you couldn’t stand to watch the fighting without doing anything anymore, you would just lock yourself in your room and pray no one got hurt. Every bit of it, you regretted. You should’ve stood up to him more, stood by your sister, shared her pain. Regret was a bitter taste.

“Y/N,” you heard from her, a quiet plea into the night, “I’m sorry. Please come back.”

You’d heard her cry out for you before, but this time it hurt even more than usual. Your hands were still curled in fists and, after the feelings of regret and helplessness and pure rage boiled over, you lashed out, like you could hit one of the bottles on the table. The silence shattered as your hand made contact with the object, sending it clattering onto the wood surface of the side table, then rolling onto the floor. Your sister’s head snapped up, her eyes following the bottle. The last round of tears fell as she blinked rapidly and scrubbed at her eyes, trying to figure out what caused the bottle to move. She finally got up uneasily, now just dabbing gently at her eyes, before she picked up the bottle to dispose of it.

As she started to warily clean up the rest of the trash, you stared at your hands. There was no way…

It was late by the time your sister joined her boyfriend in bed and it was only slightly later when Jaehyun settled down to sleep. Johnny hadn’t spoken about Stella for the rest of the night and Jaehyun hadn’t asked. He agreed to meet him in two days to check out locations for the restaurant, and that was that. In some ways, he was grateful. The more he involved himself in this situation, the more he felt like everything was spiraling out of control. But, in the opposite way, he wished something more had changed. He just hoped that visiting your body will lead him to something better.

It took a little while, but he eventually fell asleep.

He didn’t remember arriving in the hospital, just opening the door to your room. Your hair was longer than it was when he saw you on the roof and you appeared almost skeletal, your cheekbones hollow and eye sockets sunken in deeper than they should be. Hadn’t the doctors been taking care of you?

When he leaned over, taking your hand, your eyes immediately flickered open, as if you’d been waiting for him. He blinked and you transformed, your skin glowing with life and hair full and luscious. “Jaehyun, you saved me.”

Your voice came out as a warble, confusing and bird-like. Not at all how you sounded when he talked to you before. He tried to speak, but you cut him off. “Y/N-” “You saved me, you saved me.” You repeated, the mantra becoming a sort of chant as you stared at him, unblinking. The fingers on the hand that he was still grasping began to turn into talons, sharp and digging into his skin. “You saved me, you saved me, you saved me.”

He awakened in a cold sweat and bolted into an upright sitting position. The city birds that hung out outside his window were chirping, faintly reminding him of the way your dream-self had sounded. He shivered and pressed his face into his hands. Why did he keep having nightmares about you?

The sunlight streaming through the window was a small comfort, reminding him that things were fine. He considered going back to sleep, but figured that if his body wanted him to get up, he might as well. From what he saw on the hospital website, visiting hours didn’t start for a little while, so he had time to get ready and do some work on the garden before he left. The physical labor took his mind off of things for a while, but the car ride to the hospital certainly didn’t. His car felt far too empty and quiet even with one of his favorite playlists on. He considered himself lucky that the drive was short, though most of the medical traffic for the more rural nearby towns flowed to this hospital because it’s the nearest city, small as it is. The parking garage felt miserable, drab and lifeless, and the inside of the hospital itself felt no different. Stark white, sterile except the dirt streaks on the tiles from visitors’ feet, walls largely undecorated save for large signs warning about various diseases.

The lady at the front desk didn’t ask too many questions when he signed in and said your name. She simply gave him a visitor pass and let him through, scrawling down his name in a sign-in book. Your room was on the fourth floor, so he made his way to the elevator, passing by a few people who appeared far more tired than he did. They’d clearly spent a lot of time here. Some had red eyes from crying, some were simply hunched over, staring at nothing. The elevator was empty and stayed that way for the entirety of his short ride. On the fourth floor, there were fewer people, these strangers milling and sitting about. One guy, maybe around his age, was seated on a bench, staring at an apple that Jaehyun assumed he had placed down next to him. He glanced at the strange boy but kept walking, eventually standing in front of the door that he had been directed to by both the check-in lady and your sister.

The doorknob turned easily, though the door creaked as he pushed it, showing signs of age that the hospital had tried to simply paint over. He let himself in and closed the door behind him, finally turning around and allowing himself to look at your body.

Thankfully, you weren’t as skeletal as he feared you would be. He almost laughed at how different the room arrangement was from his dream as well, the relief making him relax slightly. Your body looked to be in quite good shape despite the amount of time that you’d been in a coma. Patches of your hair were clearly shorter than the rest, where he assumed you had to have some sort of surgery, though signs of said operation were no longer quite visible. IVs were stuck in your skin, providing you with the fluids that you needed to stay alive. Whatever this version of alive was. Your skin didn’t have quite the same sheen to it that it did when he talked to you, but you looked largely the same, like you were asleep. It was almost strange for him to see you in different clothes than your usual paint-stained overalls and white tee, the blue and white hospital gown seeming unnatural. He had only ever seen you in the warm outside lighting of the rooftop, so seeing you under this white fluorescent lighting was almost a strain to his eyes. The thought crossed his mind that you looked far better surrounded by green and brown and blue than you did by all of this white.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said quietly, walking closer to your body. There was an empty vase at your bedside, so he opened his bag, revealing the flowers that he had purchased on the way here. It was a pretty standard arrangement of pink roses and baby’s breath, but it brightened the room immensely. “It’s kind of strange to see you here. I hope these help. I would have brought you flowers from the roof, but they aren’t ready yet. Sorry.”

He didn’t know what he was looking for as he talked. Maybe a flicker of your eyelids, a twitch of your fingers. The air conditioning kicked on suddenly and the blast of chilly air made a few locks of your hair shift ever so slightly, almost tricking him into thinking that you moved on your own. After waiting for a moment, he finally reached for your hand. Your skin was colder here than it was when he touched you before. Your hand slotted into his nicely, but it was limp, unresponsive. A few minutes of nothing passed, time he spent just looking at you and repeating ‘please wake up’ in his head, before he quietly tucked your hand back under the covers of your bed.

“I hope you wake up soon,” he said, “so we can properly meet.”

As he exited the room, he kept his head down, mindlessly walking back to where he remembered the elevator being. The hallway was straight and long and, with his lack of attention, he ended up slamming into someone’s shoulder relatively hard. Both he and the other person staggered slightly, stopping in their tracks.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking,” he said quickly, glancing sideways at the boy he had run into. He was the same guy he had seen sitting on the bench before, staring at the apple next to him. The look on his face was an extreme reaction, pure shock covering his features. Jaehyun cringed to himself. “Hey, I really didn’t mean-”

“You can see me. You can touch me.” The guy interrupted him, raising a hand to point at him. “It’s been so long since anyone’s been able to do that!” Oh shit.

“Look,” Jaehyun said quickly, panic immediately filling him, “I’m not trying to become some sort of ghost-whisperer. I’m already trying to help someone and I can’t handle more and more of you.”

“No, listen-” As Jaehyun tried to turn around, pretend like this never happened, the boy grabbed his arm, his fingers sharp as they dug into his skin slightly. “I saw you go into that girl’s room. From the sounds of it, you didn’t get what you wanted. I can help you.”

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at that. “If you can help me, why are you still like this?”

“I can help you. And her.” Jaehyun’s eyes shifted towards the door that he had just left behind, then back to the boy gripping his arm. “But I need your help first.”

[nopenname23]

here’s a shitpost of me playing the click and drag game <3

If you wanna play too, here’s the link X.

KUROO is your Best Friend & BOKUTO is your Sibling

THE KUROO AND BOKUTO FRIENDSHIP ALDKJASDLK. Just living for the imagery of your older brother and your best friend having the BEST broromance?!?

I love it. You’d be the three musketeers

Bokuto is the best big bro and u won’t tell me otherwise

He’d definitely act like 5 years younger than you sometimes, even though he’s a year older

You’d call him nii-chan esp when he’s in emo/baby mode 

You’d pep him up in a second when you say “but nii-chan can do anything!”

[[Akaashi (despite his understanding of Kou and abilities to control his funk) is admittedly quite jealous of the immediacy and certainty of your ways]]

Anyways, yeah yeah, kuroo was your brother’s bffl first

But over time he’s just been really dependable and like the /actual/ older bro of your group

Guh I love this dynamic a lot

ATSUMU is your Rival 

Same year.

Same class.

Every year.

Sometimes you think it’s fate’s cruel joke.

You’ve got a rivalry going with Atsumu that has only been going on since pre K

It started with you two competing to make the biggest and prettiest sandcastle

To this day, no one knows who stomped on whose first, but everyone remembers the tears and the screaming blame game

In the present, he’s your rival in the sense that you try your best to destroy each other’s egos

Relentlessly.

Your interests are vastly different, but your temperaments are quite the match

Aka Atsumu loooves your reactions

And you take his bait Every. Time.

At the end of the day tho, somehow you still got each other's backs

You stick with the same circle of friends 

There's this one time when you gave him the silent treatment for a while and he was very very confused.

He tried to play nice but even then u weren't having it

(Tbh it was like shaking the bottle of a carbonated drink. You felt it, but you seemingly had the patience of a saint)

Atsumu starts to get hurt by this bc even though you never gave each other a break, he's never considered you not a friend

He withdraws and his silence actually shakes the bottle more somehow 

So when he mutters an offhand comment about you always being late under his breath at a group hangout

You burst.

LIKE YOU DON'T MAKE US ALL WAIT WHILE YOU PUT THE GREASE ON YOUR MUSTARD HEAD? 

o.o

He's stunned (along with everyone else) but it only lasts a second bc everything is back to normal and this feels way better than being ignored

Ughhh why don't you just go home it seems like you haven't prepared your public manners yet >:(

"Don't worry, y/n. I'm not going anywhere. :)"

"KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF BUD ISTG—"

"Did you hear that everyone?? We're buds :)"

TENDOU Plays Volleyball with You

When you were younger, you’d accompany Kou and Kuroo to the community volleyball spaces

And when no one Tendou’s age wanted to play with him, there you were

And the cutest friendship blossomed <3

It was fun, he taught you a lot (and while your technique has improved, you don’t love the effort it takes to chase the ball lol)

You mostly just toss back and forth while you gossip

You both are THE BIGGEST shittalkers 

You LIVE to just chat and each other’s antics (you both like to poke fun at others’ egos and laugh about it together later lol. I love a bully duo)

Dw this duo doesn’t make their victims cry or anything

Like max is poking fun at Semi’s casual clothes and saying he looks weird (even though he looks damn fiineee)

SEMI Takes You Out on a Date

speaking of Semi...

SEMISEMISEMI

[[PLEASE TAKE ME OUT MY MUSICALLY GIFTED BB]]

You’ve lowkey crushed on this beauty for a while

But there’s like too many degrees of separation between ya

He goes to tendou’s school, he works at the record store, he’s in a local band

He's so cool and hot and you have no nerve to talk to him

Luckily (or not) tendou somehow makes a date happen

(Tbh I don't think semi knows it's supposed to be a date but it def is for you!!)

You've only waited your whole life for this moment.

You’d go to the movies or something generic (bc you want to plan it out to a tee and make it perfect so u go with cliche bc this is everything you want to tell your grandkids etc)

Yay! Date with semi~

KAI Cockblocks You

(fyi I know next to nothing about Kai, but he gives off v nice guy with a nice smile vibes)

So on your date with Semi, Kai also happens to be working at the movies that day

You’ve been v excited about this date and have maybe overprepared

(as in pretty much scripted the entire thing)

Part of your plan was to see the latest horror film (you think it’ll make you look tough... and you pre-watched it so that you wouldn’t do anything too embarrassing and could come up with quippy lines/reactions)

As you approach the ticket counter, there’s this guy there with a nametag reading Kai

Turns out that horror movie is sold out :/

So Kai suggests a different movie bc it’s playing at the same time

!! 

-This is fineeeee. You’ll make do. Stick to the script.-

Too bad the movie’s a Schindlers List type of show 

:$

Everything goes NOT according to plan from this point on

You act super awkward (aka major performance anxiety)

You say lines that you prepared for the jumpscare scenes at the dramatic ones in this film

It. is. Not. cute.

No recovery available. 

Sorry.

You had plans to eat after but it was a heavy movie and semi thinks it'd be best to part ways here 

O.o 

"oh. ok...bye"

You don't go to the record store anymore. 

Sigh.

So, therefore, Kai inadvertently “ruined all and any semblance of romantic feels that could and would have developed!!”

It’s no fault of his own, but you refuse to forgive him. Ever. 

Poor guy :(

(Later you see him playing at a Nekoma match with Kuroo, ur bffl, and you highkey shoot him glares the whole game lol. Gives him SEVERE shivs)

Again, poor guy. 

KITA was your First Kiss

When you were in middle school Kita was your first kiss after some freak ‘accident’ on suna’s part HAHA

[[or maybe, casual middle school bf bc he was the nicest friend and you walked home together, held hands, and then tried to kiss and were both like lol nah]]

Dw he’s been very chill about the whole thing, apologises and lets you know it doesn’t count and he’s still your pal (sweet bb)

Atsumu looked on with a surprised raised eyebrow open mouthed look like D8<

If anything, Atsumu is the one who doesn't let anyone forget this happened

YAMAGUCHI Has a Crush on You

Yamaguchi (and all other ‘nice boys’) crush on you because you give off sweet and quiet and perfect wife-y material vibes 

Little do they know when you’re with your pals, you’re the rowdiest of the bunch, got the mouth of a sailor, and just the biggest roaster of anyone and everyone

So he has a crush on you for a while 

But he never talks to you and that's cool~

?????? Is Your Boyfriend

Tbh i have no clue who that character is... dkm lol

You probably had a period where you forgot his name too

You call him petnames to get around that

You’re mostly dating bc he confessed to you and he seems like he rly likes you so you thought the attention would be nice :)

Atsumu definitely gives you the HARDEST time when he catches on that you don’t know your bf’s name/anything about him.

It is 100p THE. WORST.

He def baits you when you’re in a large group setting with your bf to embarrass you (ex. “Okay, now y/n is going to order us by our first names/birthdays/day we first met her! >:)”)

Yeah, so this relationship lasts longer than it realistically should (but not really that long, you don’t waste ur best years with him or anything)

[alovevigilante]

Resting “the holidays are coming they’re almost here and oh no, I’m not the least bit prepared physically or emotionally” face, Aka in a holi-daze. (Even though it’s sparkling and snowing on my head in my house in this picture...)

I’m not entirely sure why, but I am stressed. Let’s not focus on the “why”, cause I’m here already, I’m in the stress, so the “why” doesn’t really make a difference. Let’s just focus on now. Now, I’m writing on tumblr. So far so good. One word at a time, and the post is formulating thusly. I am breathing, and I am looking at the phone screen. Ok, now I’m here with you. Hey you! Thanks for joining me.

Love, is in every moment we recognize it. It’s in the gaps between breaths, and it’s in us, when we search for it. Sometimes it’s hard to notice, cause it’s quiet, and it’s not pushy. Love is really gentle, and it likes to sit silently inside of you. Sometimes it whispers when you are really going ape, but it’s not always easy to hear.

The monkey mind, is loud. Man, those crazy monkeys... they are all up and down in your business, and in your grill, and in your other appliances that live inside your head. But they can be appeased by a simple change (or shift) of focus, into your body, and what you have going in the present moment. When you do that, the monkeys tend to settle down a bit, cause they don’t have an audience to show off for.

Being in your now, is not always a thing that is a go-to for a lot of people. Listen, nut bag lady talking about my “now”, I’ve got things to do, an agenda, people relying on me for x, y and z this and that, a laundry list of things to accomplish, plus laundry on top of that, which is on the top of my laundry list of things to do, not to mention the holidays, and aunt sweetums, who creates issues in my head with her crazy that I perceive, and the twins, my old pals from days of yore, frick and frack, who are hard to shop for but we exchange gifts still, and who are probably cool people, but we don’t spend enough time together and so I wouldn’t know and the holidays illuminate the fact that I’m disconnected from everyone and everything in my life, and my neighbor’s dog’s cat, that I pulled to buy for in the holiday grab bag, and that cat is like Morris the cat from the commercials from the 70s... a jerk fach, and extremely finicky, and I heard that he told his owner to go to the dungeon and stay there,

so he’s clearly hard to please, and I have no 9 lives to offer him, cause I barely have one that I can handle, and now I have to shop for his fickle little cat butt, and he probably won’t like what I pick, cause I have no interest or clue what he wants, and I have wasted so much time watching so much tv in my past that I remember the Morris commercials because I pull them up and watch them instead of doing my laundry list of things, cause I avoid what I’m supposed to be doing because it’s so not something I want to do yet I have too much of it that I’m obligated to do, cause I’m overextended and it’s daunting, but I also have fun stuff to do which isn’t as fun to do when I know I have 75 other things I should’ve done but didn’t, and I remember Morris’s rude behavior but I forgot all of my passwords to most of my online crap that I need to accomplish so that amazon can deliver it all before the holidays, and now, I’m mad, and late, cause I said I’d pick up a special lunch for my son and he needs to be back at school at a certain time, and I am riding on fumes in my car, and the pump didn’t work, and I hit my knee hard cause I parked too close to the pump, and I squeezed out of the car, and it cost almost $100 to fill my tank, and when I finally got to the fast food restaurant we went to, it was anything but fast, and now... blagh.

Oh boy. Now I’m in the soup. You know why? Momentum. You ever notice that when you pay attention to things that are unpleasant that’s all you tend to notice? That happens. And I tend to get all stressed out over things that are not in the immediacy, and that aren’t life threatening anyway. So the 2 combined? A slight disaster, of my making, and choosing, all inside my own lil noggin up there.

So what if Morris doesn’t get one of his presents on time? Dude has 9 lives to get presents. And he’s a cat, so you know, maybe not so aware of the holidays anyway. I hear you... stupid example. Well, the thing is, all the little Morris issues add up to a gigantic mess inside your head, and it’s hard to manage when things are pushed to the side, and not discussed with you.

I talk myself down often. I acknowledge my part in the mishegoss. I find myself causing a lot of my upset, because of my reaction to it. Maybe I don’t have to freak out so much. Maybe I can try to notice it, and laugh. It’s not such a big deal, even if it is. And if it is a big deal, and I can’t laugh, maybe I can be kinder to myself and just put it down for awhile, and concentrate on my existing. My breathing, whether I’m holding tension in my body, and if so, where? Maybe I can do something to help myself. Maybe I can make some hot tea, or coffee. Maybe I can sit down for a second and not think. All of these things, can help get to your present moment, and to help your future ones as well.

Taking time out to pay attention to you, is important for healing the issues of your life. Yes, others are in want and need of your assistance and attention, and you can get to them. But the attention to self needs to come before that so you can be better for all of the others. If you are not aware of your energy, it can easily rub off on someone else. If you are stressed, and short with someone, it can affect the day of that person, and travel from person to person, like a germ. Energy is real, and the more we feel into ourselves, and recognize where we’re at, the easier it is to see why others react to us the way they do.

So this holiday season, getting all of your “to-dos” whether they get completed or not, don’t focus so much on the upset of it. Do what you need to do to get stuff done, but focus more on how you feel, and being ok, and treating yourself well around it, and notice how when you get a handle on that, it helps everyone. When you don’t freak out about what can come, and what could be, and what may occur, you will feel better.

When we experience the thoughts of all that fear of the unknown, we are actually choosing to experience it anyway. Your body reacts to the “what if”. Your mind goes through all the scenarios and you go with it. Have you ever done that? Have you gotten so worked up about something that you got yourself literally sick over it, and when it was all said and done it wasn’t anything to get so upset about? Well, on the days leading up to the thing you have to do, you worried, and stressed, and got a belly ache, and complained, and talked about it endlessly, and yes, you experienced what you didn’t want to experience regardless, with your total attention to the fear of it happening. And that’s not being kind to yourself. That’s self abuse. Don’t do it. You will report yourself to the higher ups of you if you do. And you will get in trouble with you, trust me. You’ll feel every last bit of the repercussions of thinking that way.

Please be loving to yourself. The world needs more love in it, and you are the only one that can control how much love you experience, and how much you subsequently give out. Please have a beautiful holiday regardless of what you need or have elected to do. Have a beautiful holiday in your mind, cause that’s where it all starts. Feel the peace from within. Give yourself the gift of love. It’s free, and freedom. ❤️👍🎁

[paullicino]

A Year like No Other

(Taken from, and funded by, my Patreon.)

A lot of people are now calling 2020 the lost year and it’s not difficult to see why. Most of us have never had a year remotely like this last one. For some of us, the calendar began to blur, weeks and even months merging into one another in a sickly, uneasy timelessness that had us double-checking what day it was. For others, there was stress after stress, as we worried about our health, our jobs, our governments, even our countries. And the two experiences certainly weren’t mutually exclusive.

This month, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on that, acknowledging both the struggles and the successes. It’s sometimes been a difficult twelve months for me, but it certainly hasn’t been without its inspirations and its wonderful moments. I wanted to share some of those, to talk about a few ideas and to spotlight the things that helped me through 2020. I hope it helps. I figure it’s as good a time as any for us to be sharing our blessings.

And I think that first involves celebrating you. I think that’s very important. This past month, a year on from the first COVID cases being widely-reported (and also the first reports of cases where I live), I’ve read a lot by people asking questions like “What difference does it all make?” or “What is the point?” when they look back. They ask these questions when they think about things like their life changes, their mask wearing, their activism or their voting. They see an ongoing pandemic, social unrest or political inaction and wonder why they should make an effort while others are lax or apathetic. It’s natural to wonder that. I think anyone can understand the fatigue, the cynicism and the disillusionment.

But I also, get this, have a Hot Take on this that says that the choices you made were vital. When you chose to wear a mask, to socially distance, to restrict when and where you went, you actively helped fight a deadly virus. You may well have saved lives, saved someone’s health, protected livelihoods by acting as you have. When you voted, shared a cause on social media, attended a protest or talked to even one person about helping others or making the world better, you contributed to improving your society.

In fact, I have capital-O Opinions about these things so strap in and hold on, 'cause here they come.

I’ve been very fortunate to share much of my work on the internet over the years, which is a very particular medium, and sometimes that work reaches a lot of people. My experience of this is that you never know who it truly reaches, or when, or even how, and most of the time you never find out. There’s certainly an immediacy to things where you can see, pretty quickly, what the instant reaction to something is, but that’s fleeting. It doesn’t last and, within moments, there’s already something newer demanding more responses.

In time, the true consequences of things shake out. People get back to you with their more considered opinions. Sometimes months, even years after you do something, you find out from someone what they thought about it, how it affected them or even how they were changed. It can take time for a person to realise how they were changed, too, and we rarely have perspective in the moment. Sometimes it takes us years to appreciate the choices and the actions of our friends, our family members, our teachers, our communities. People have contacted me about work I’ve done long, long after I first shared it, and many of those people have come from places that I never expected, have found my work in ways that I never expected. I think, now, that consequence never travels in straight lines. That cause and effect are strangers rather than siblings.

And so I hope it’s clear that the ramble you have so kindly indulged is meant to say that we don’t always notice the good things that we have done. We ask “What difference does it all make?” or “What is the point?” because we don’t get those answers immediately, or for a long time, or sometimes ever. But not knowing when we saved someone’s health, when we changed someone’s mind, even when we inspired someone’s actions doesn’t mean that we aren’t making a difference. There is a point to our life changes, our mask wearing, our activism and our voting.

I hope you can celebrate yourself and give yourself credit for the choices you made this last year. They have mattered.

I also want to thank you so, so much for supporting my Patreon. I know many of you have been with me since day one, for more than two years now, and I’m so grateful for both your capital-P Patronage and your presence, whether that’s in our Discord community or through your comments and your correspondence. That’s made a big difference to me this past year, helping me pay rent and put food on the table during a time when so much has been uncertain. 2020 was to be my first full year back in Canada after a complicated, circuitous absence and I had half-finished projects, freelance ideas and half a dozen tabs open in my browser with writing residencies to apply for, everywhere from nearby Richmond to the Yukon Territory. I hoped this would be a year that I’d both finally see more of Canada and be able to write about it, too. A lot of things didn’t quite work out, freelance budgets were slashed, work timelines lengthened and I became ill, but as I look back now I’m thankful for a great deal.

I still managed to fulfill some ambitions. At the start of 2020 I’d been finishing up some work on Zafir, which had been an absolute delight, and I was not far off starting spring work on Magical Kitties Save the Day. The close of the year saw me resuming work on a Feng Shui expansion and each of these projects has been really good for me. All of them gave me a chance to work with skillful, progressive people and to become a better designer.

As spring continued, I decided to make a one-off video about board gaming and mental health during a pandemic, partly to offer a practical and helpful introduction to playing board games online and looking after yourself, but also because I wanted people to feel that their actions during a pandemic mattered. Among the things I referenced and linked to, I’ve continued dipping into Headspace from time to time, and this helpful list of brief work-from-home tips has been further updated. I’ve also since further investigated the terrific work of Dr. Ali Mattu, a psychologist and therapist who has produced a lot of material over the last year focusing on how to handle the pandemic.

With the summer came widespread protests across the United States, which highlighted the oppressive and fatal consequences of systemic racism and the urgent need for police reform, both issues not exclusive to the that country (for me, the events echoed the protests that began on my Tottenham street in  2011 and the violent response to 2010’s student protests). I shared a list of resources that I thought were important at the time, but there also followed a wide call for white people to make more effort to both seek out, engage with and promote motion pictures made by Black Americans, or which reflected the Black experience. It wasn’t a big ask and, as well as watching films that had been recommended many times over (such as Us, Da 5 Bloods, The Last Black Man in San Francisco and the excellent BlacKkKlansman, which was the best film I saw last year), I also tried to diversify my social media feeds more. Instagram was host to a growing discussion about how the platform seems to (deliberately or accidentally) divide people by race, something which I think may still be the case, and several nature photographers I follow promoted Tsalani Lassiter and Rae Wynn-Grant. To my delight, among many of the things they speak about and share, both are experts on bears.

I thought it was important to look more closely at Canada, too, so I made more of an effort to follow Indigenous issues and have begun reading Indigenous news sources, including First Nations Drum, Windspeaker and the Nunatsiaq News. CBC runs its own Indigenous news section, much of which is written by Indigenous reporters.A lot of freelance and writing opportunities dried up as the pandemic contracted the world’s economies, but in 2020 I was able to start writing for VICE, working with my old colleague and friend Rob Zacny, and interview the world’s most famous board game designer. VICE has written a lot of relevant, helpful and informative material about current events over the last year and I was heartened by the words of a fellow VICE writer, Gita Jackson, who concluded her essay about living in The Cool Zone of historical possibility by reminding us how “In The Cool Zone, we can also rediscover hope.”

This year I was also inspired by Faith Fundal’s widely-shared CBC podcast They and Us, which was an excellent (and still rare) example of a mainstream media exploration of gender identity and trans rights, and really pleased for my friend Brendan, who launched his podcast project Hey, Lesson! in the autumn. Of course, I can’t mention podcasts without again reminding you of my love for the spooky, supernatural Death by Monsters, which I got to host last winter. It was my dear friend Paula, one of its presenters, who recommended that I start streaming regularly, something I now do here. She was absolutely right when she talked about how positive and social an experience it can be. It’s been a real joy, as well as added some important structure and schedule to my week.

And, of course, the arrival of my first full year as a Canadian resident meant that I got to celebrate my first anniversary as a Canadian resident. I paid my taxes! Let me tell you, it was a slightly confusing and esoteric experience, but it was also one of those mundane, humdrum things that confirms and validates you. Though I didn’t get to throw a party for that anniversary, I did get to enjoy my birthday celebrations before the pandemic really hit. My partner surprised me with a trip to the not-quite-remote-but-definitely-secluded Gibsons, on the quiet British Columbia coastline, which was the best birthday gift anyone’s ever given me and a chance to see more of the rocky, forested, mountainous fringes of a place I’ve fallen so in love with. Before Vancouver closed down, I was also able to collect more than a dozen people (representing five different nationalities!) together in a brewery and then a restaurant, something that now feels like an extremely alien concept. For some of us in our friend group, it’s the last memory we have of coming together and being in the same space. That gives it a pronounced poignancy, a bittersweet quality.

Finally, I’d like to share two more things with you. The first is particularly peculiar and personal: I found my wizard. After drafting this piece last summer, then sharing it in the autumn, a few suggestions led me not straight to my goal, but ultimately down the right path. The game that I was thinking of is called The Tomb of Drewan and I very much doubt that anyone, anywhere is likely to have heard of it. It’s thirty-nine years old this year and it was distributed by a publisher in Berkshire, not so far from where I grew up. It only took me three and a half decades to see what it looks like in colour.

Tracking down this game was a softly satisfying experience. It’s exactly as I remember. Everything makes sense. Reading through the manual reminds me of how difficult it was to try and understand this thing through a monochrome monitor, though I also think it was likely way too complex for the child I was. I don’t think I ever got anywhere. I don’t think I ever could have. But I at least know that my memory has served me well. That wizard was as real as could be.

The second thing is something about my own missing year, something that has also resurfaced in my memory as we’ve plodded through 2020. In the long, dark winter months, in the unstructured days and the collapsing weeks, I’ve been transported back to the early 2000s and to a time that now feels very familiar. Here's what that was like.

I’d been writing professionally for a few years, comfortably and competently, while still living in suburban Hampshire. As publishing moved from magazines to the internet, my work began to dry up, my options narrowed and, honestly, I didn’t respond to this shift by producing my best material. I also didn’t know what to do about all this change, becoming directionless and unsure. I didn’t yet have the confidence to take some of the larger steps that I eventually did and, instead, somewhere in all that I began to move backward. I struggled to find work. I slept the strangest hours. I was frustrated, but it also didn’t matter nearly enough to me because also, I was no longer motivated.

I have memories of waking up at all kinds of times of day and night. Of not knowing where to go. Of running out of things to take photographs of, after looking at the same local sights over and over. It was like living at the bottom of a well, with a tiny, distant view of the world and no handholds for climbing out. I wasted time because I had time to waste, something I deeply regret now, and I became crabby, unhealthy and inward-looking. I was far from my best.

The last time I was in England I found myself going through old things from the early 2000s. I found many of the books I read, a great deal of writing I’d done and, in particular, a lot of my old RPG notes. A lot of old RPG notes, an absolute wealth of work that far exceeded anything I’d done outside of any work except that on Paranoia. I’ve written before about my roleplaying past and how I have fond memories of it, but I had completely forgotten exactly how much material I had collected together. I had so many biographies that I’d indexed them. I was starting to form an encyclopedia of everything I’d done, just so that I could find and reference the things I needed.

I had also read so much, which both prepared me for my degree and began to make me a better writer. I’d mostly stopped reading in my mid-teens and this was a new spurt of interest that led me toward many of the tastes and preferences I have today. I began to develop my fiction and non-fiction writing styles and I developed an interest in non-fiction that had paid me back a thousandfold.

I was building a new me.

I see now that I didn’t lose a year. I was certainly caught in a swamp of sorts, struggling to make progress, but the experiences I had during that time still mattered. They didn’t matter right away and they didn’t matter in any way that seemed at all obvious to me at the time, but they helped to shape me and to guide me, to show me both what I wanted and, certainly, what I didn’t want. If I had the chance to repeat it, I’d for sure live that missing year differently. I’d live it so much better, so much wiser and so much more fruitfully, but I can at least see it now as not the waste I long thought that it was.

And so I hope it’s clear that the ramble you have so kindly indulged is meant to say that, some time in the future, you may look back on 2020 and find your successes, your satisfaction, even your strength. I don’t mean to disregard anyone’s suffering or sadness, your feelings are valid and the pain, loss and difficulties you’ve encountered are very real. I don’t much like people who dismiss the feelings of others and I apologise if I’ve been too glib. I think a past version of myself needed to read something like this, a long time ago, and I only want to give them, you or anyone who might see this, hope for the future, a few reasons to be optimistic and, very importantly, a reminder to celebrate yourself.

Happy 2021. You made a difference. You always have.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Remember Me”

Here is the final part of the Space Angels mini series. Thank you all for reading, and don’t forget to give me your reactions, that’s actually the best part of writing and I appreciate it when I know what you guys think.

If he could just remember how…..

And there it was floating in some unknown part of his psyche, a place where it shouldn’t have been, but it was. He remembered.

He keyed his mike and boosted the signal. He could hear other voices now, the voices of his crew searing for him, trying their best to find him, “Listen to me.” His voice was hard and slurred as his brain struggled to remember how to speak, struggled to find his jumbled thoughts.

“Captain.”

“Captain where are you!”

“We’re coming captain, just hold on.”

Above him, the queen loomed massive and imposing, a destroying angel to what she saw as sin, a blight of lies upon her reckoning. Could he really blame her, their realities were so different, people couldn’t understand things that were different from them. They feared what they did not understand, and then they destroyed it. She was doing what she thought was best, he could feel that.

Didn’t mean he wanted to die this way though.

“I’m sorry.” He slurred into the mike, “Lieutenant, if you’re listening…. The crew is yours. Take them back to earth….. tell me family I love them.” He struggled for more words against his barely functioning consciousness, “Krill, I’m sorry, you were right, and I should have listened. Get yourselves out of here if you can….. I think their brain waves are messing with our radio equipment. Try changing the frequency, and you should be fine.” More tears billowed into his vision, and unable to wipe them away his vision was obscured.

He had been close to death before, but never like this. It was always with someone else. He hadn’t been alone, he had had all of his thoughts, his memories to hold onto, his fiends even though they weren’t there. There were a lot of things he wished he could have done. He wished that he could see his parents one last time, mostly his mother so he could apologize for causing her so much pain. He wished he could have seen her finally get alone with Sunny, to finally drop her grudge. He wish he could have seen his new adopted nephew, David’s son.

He wished he hadn’t been so scared to date, to find someone, to actually tell people what he felt about them. But now he would never have the chance.

He thought about Sunny, would she take over the Drev clan once he was gone. Was she ready to lead? Maybe she would give it over the Cannon.

“Captain, where are you.”

“Captain, just hang tight we’re coming.”

He barely heard them, “Sunny, I’m sorry, Take care of Waffles, she likes you, and she’s going to need someone.” He could feel the things mind encroaching in on him again slowly pouring in to fill all of the gasps in his head, “Sunny, I-“

He felt his consciousness slipping away. He tried to hold onto it to repeat to himself who he was and what he remembered.

“My name is Adam Allen Vir, I’m the Captain of a UNSC ship, my best friends are Sunny and Krill, I have a dog, My mother’s name is Martha I have three, no two, NO four siblings I…. My name is Adam Vir, I’m captain of a space ship, m-my best friends are aliens…. dog, my mother’s name is Martha. My name is Adam, I am…. I fly a Spaceship, I have… friends, and a mother.” His body was growing cold, his voice even more slurred, “My names is…. My-my name….. is…. I…. don’t remember.”

“Help.”

…

He gasped, “My name is Adam.”

The mind began to recede. Something struggled inside his head. A wall of thoughts and memories swirled around his insides like a vortex blocking him from the swelling, crushing power of the outside. His memories came flooding back in their jumbled state of mess, but at least he knew where they were. He could feel his body now could see.

He lifted his eyes as the massive godlike shape recoiled against something mouth opening in an unheard shriek. He struggled to figure out what was going on as the vortex rolled around inside his head. They were memories and thoughts careening in an impenetrable wall. They weren’t his thoughts, they belonged to someone else. He could feel their contents. He could feel emotions of resentment and anger, he could feel feelings of isolation, he could feel the imminent fear of death experienced as they rolled around a star, he could feel the loneliness, the delinquency.

Something slammed into him from the side sending him spinning into the darkness, away from the massive figure even as the wall protected his mind. He turned his head to the side teeth gritted against the G force.

A face stared back at him from the darkness. It was familiar, white with black eyes… It had one hand on the side of his mask and the other on his arm.

“Adam.”

He was flooded with its emotions, the desire of this creature as the queen battered at his mind, and the barrier which this creature had thrown up around him.

“I wish for secrets.” It whispered inside his head. Behind them, other creatures streamed from the darkness chasing after them as the queen floundered in her anger. One snatched at his foot, and he kicked it in the head sending it spinning back into the dark as they entered the dust cloud.

The wall of protection in his mind shriveled, then it shrank downwards. He moaned in pain. He sensed the desperation, the chase, the sheer power that pressed in on them, on all sides.

“Sleep.” The creature said, and he felt the cool tendrils of his mind leaking into his own, but instead of filling the space, crushing him, and stealing his memories, it flowed around them, suspended them, kept them still. It felt…. How he thought cold would feel inside his head. Hs shivered uncontrollably as the tendrils snaked downwards and the power pressed in from above.

“Sleep”

The voice echoed, and then, he was gone.

***

The searchlights spun and weaved across the black sky. He had to be around here, had to be around here somewhere. The light pulled right coming across a body suspended in the darkness, unmoving.

Figures rolled forward search lights bouncing into space, photons spilling into the vacuum. Sunny reached the body first as was her want. He sat suspended hands and legs splayed from its body, hands reaching forward like it had been caught in the act of falling. It wasn’t moving, it wasn’t responding. She took it in her arms, and it slumped against her lit by the bright spotlights behind.

***

The ship floated softly through space towards the Rundi home planet. They had managed to disrupt the signals holding them in place, and left for warp with all due immediacy. The cobalt nebulae had disappeared. into the distance as space folded around it.

Krill floated, dejectedly at the captain’s bedside. The man was perfectly still aside from his breathing. Padded manacles locked his hands and feet into place. A strap crossed his chest, torso, and waist. An IV feeding tube stuck from one arm taped against his pale, unmoving hand. The man’s head lolled to the side.

He had been like that for almost a weak. Thus far, no efforts to wake him up had proved fruitful. The scans indicated that there WAS functional brain activity, but the reticular activating system of his brainstem was showing abnormal functioning. The man appeared to be sleeping in all but the ability to wake up. Sometimes he shifted, sometimes he moved, and sometimes his eyes twitched behind his eyelids, but he ever managed to wake himself.

He had been like that when they recovered him from the darkness of space lying him out on the docking bay floor, and pulling off his suit. He was asleep, but he wouldn’t wake up.

An atmosphere of silence and worry had drawn a dark cloud over the ship and all those who inhabited it. The lights were dimmed, the halls were clear. Voices were held just below normal speaking voices as if afraid any disturbance in the atmosphere might change thing for the worse. Everyone on the ship was horribly aware of how long a human could be in a Coma. Days…. Months.

Years….

What was it going to be?

Krill sighed and sat at the edge. This was his fault, he should have listened to the man. Maybe if he had just compromised, than the captain would still be awake. They could have sent someone with him to help, the marines, the Drev soldiers, anyone.

Sunny stepped in just then silent against her surprising bulk and made her way over, “How is he.”

“Same as before I think he-“

“Feels like his brain got run over by a truck.” The two of them spun suddenly. Sunny nearly tipped herself over. Krill let of a high pitched squealing noise that was particularly unbecoming in the moment. The captain lay on the bed with his eyes half open blinking slowly, “Krill, I’m only going to say this once because I will only manage to say it once without screaming, but let me go before I lose it.” His breathing was slowly beginning to speed up as was his heart, “I, I need to move.”

Krill willingly complied this time, and the captain took a shaky breath lifting his hands to his face clenching and unclenching his fists as if he was worried they just wouldn’t work.

“How do you feel captain?”

“What happened?”

He rubbed his head with the flat of his palm shakily, “You were right Krill.” He took another shaky breath, “They did want to communicate, but once we did, they saw something they didn’t like. I guess since they communicate telepathically, you can’t really hide things form other people. They were so…. Repulsed by the idea of secrets and lies, that they thought it would just be better for me if they…. Killed me off.” He began to shake and tremble uncontrollably, “I…. I couldn’t see, or here, or, or remember anything, It was… black, no not black it was…. N-nothing, there was…. N-nothing.”

Before Krill knew what was going on Sunny had stepped in and was hugging the human to her chest protectively. Krill was about to step in but it seemed as if sunny had made the right move. The human took a few deep breaths and began to calm down. He patted one of Sunny’s arms, “Thanks, Sunny.” He whispered.

***

He stood, uniform on hands behind his back in front of the holo-screen. He didn’t normally look the part, but today he did. In his dark grey uniform, cap and gloves, he stood ramrod straight face serious eyepatch replaced by the fake green eye he had used at the trial not so many months ago. The call came through, and he saluted stiffly as another person appeared on the screen before him.

The admiral took a seat with a sigh.

The captain’s eyes widened in surprise once he realized this was not the face he was used to, “Ca…. Kelly…. Admiral…. Ma’am.”

His old captain looked out at him with tired eyes, the stars on her shoulder glistening in the low lighting, “Captain Vir. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I heard about the trial. I’m glad you managed to shake it.”

He lowered his hand falling into parade rest as he did, “Uh, yes ma’am….. I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard about your promotion.”

She waved a hand, “it was a last minute affair coming on the wings of your recent trial. The accusatory nature of the accusations on one of our best men led to some internal evaluations of our hierarchy. It was determined that a fresh face on command would help clear out the dust, but I digress, you wanted to call about your recent mission report.”

“Yes ma’am.” He lowered his head eyes closing in shame, “I put a lot of people in danger recently, and I. I’m beginning to question my abilities to captain my crew.”

“Really, I looked over the full report, Captain.” He waited, “A man falls wind of an unknown alien source, starts hearing voices, has a theory, acts on that theory and turns out to be wrong.” She steapled her fingers looking at the stoic face through the screen, “Captain, I don’t see that as an accident of command, I see that as an error of being human. Your job is to make contact, and that’s what you did. This time you weren’t so lucky. You pave the way for regulation in the area of alien interaction. You will learn from this, you will write the regulation on contact, and you will begin again, and you will get smarter. You are the youngest captain in the fleet, and YES it shows, but you are also one of the most experienced.” The fond expression she graced him with was not lost on him, “They got into your head, they knew what would bring you out, no one can blame you for falling for the perfect circumstances.”

Hed took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, admiral.”

“Speaking of which, I had something to talk to you about.”

He lifted his chin and nodded, “Go on.”

The UNSC has recently commissioned 15 new captains and 15 new UNSC ships. They are looking for someone to take the position as acting fleet Commander…. Your name is at the top of that list.”

He stood speechless.

“You are our most experienced man. You know the worlds and their natives better than anyone, and you have a good rapport with them. If anyone has the ability to command a fleet, I think it’s you.”

“But, but, Ca- Admiral, I’m not ready for something like that. You said it yourself, I’m the youngest man, and kind of an idiot. To give me an entire fleet….. well, I’m flattered but, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “The fact you can acknowledge that you may not be ready, almost certainly proves to me that you are.” She paused glancing down at her desk, and the paper work he could see sitting there, “Think about it at least. The formal call may not come for months now, and I promise, your job won’t change all that much. You will still be the Captain of your ship, you will still be tasked with exploring deep space as you have been, but the others will differ to you in matters of command, they will come at your call, and they will have to check in regularly. You would be authorized to order them in their routs, and help them deal with any conflicts that may arise. In cases of war and conflict, you will be head of an entire fleet, all at your command under the UNSC or the GA…… I think you should take the offer.”

***

He sat with his elbows resting on his knees head down rolling his captain’s cap from one hand to the other.

“Adam, sweetheart, that’s great news.”

“That’s my boy! Conquering the final frontier!” His father called from his chair in the background pumping his fist into the air in one of the greatest shows of emotion the man had ever managed to muster.

He watched as his mother’s smile fell a little, “Adam, what’s wrong?”

He sighed, “I…. well, I recently… messed up, pretty bad, and I don’t think I’m ready for what they want me to do. The admiral thinks I am, but she wasn’t there.”

His dad got up from his spot and walked over sliding himself down next to his wife who sat with worried eyes, “Well, go on boy let’s hear it.

***

His father sat back in his seat contemplatively while his mother looked on in worry.

“Adam, look at me.” He did as his father told, “You are a trusting man, and yeah sometimes you’re going to get duped, and you’re going to get duped hard. That’s the nature of being trusting, but that isn’t a bad thing.” His father jabbed a finger in his direction, “You just need to make sure you have good people around you. Good people who can tell you no, and good people who aren’t so trusting. That surgeon of yours, he seems a bit over the top sometimes, but he was right this time. Listen to him, listen to your officers, and your men, they will help guide you…..”

Vir sighed, “Just wondering when I’ll finally grow up.”

His father left off a snort, “Boy, you’ve fought in war, commanded ships into the final frontier, made friends with your enemies, forgiven those that hurt you; you are more of a man than most men who claim to be. And don’t you damn well lose that trusting streak. Not many people can claim to see the good in others like you do, and sometimes the rest of us need to be reminded.”

“Yes, sir.”

“One last thing, Adam.”

“Yes sir?”

“Take the damn job.”

***

“What did the admiral say?”

“She….. well, you can’t tell anyone because it may not happen, but… she offered me the position of fleet commander.”

Those who heard burst into congratulations and back slapping.  He still wasn’t so sure about this, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He kept a smile on letting them go until he was finally alone. He took a deep breath, and in the dim light of what the crew called the “Aquarium”, he walked over to the skylight, and pressed the button to let down the panel, allowing the ethereal light of space to cat down again him. He leaned his arm against the cool glass and rested his head there taking a deep sigh. At least everything was finally over.

He could rest.

“Adam.”

[inked-foundry]

Lyudmila’s introduction and Teagan’s outburst below.

With a grunt, Teagan forced herself to sit upright upright. The guard and the guest acknowledged her with an unexpected swiftness, but predictably quieted their discussion with similar immediacy.

Scylla’s face turned sour. But the newcomer was intrigued, even friendly.

She carried an interesting air to her, corded muscle sunk into a casual posture despite her fanciful style of dress. A formal vest clasped at each button, trousers tucked into traveling boots shining with newness, and a blue cape drawn over broad shoulders. It was a lovely shade, too, like sunshine on water.

The same cape Teagan caught a glimpse of after the brawl.

What the hell had a woman like this been doing in a bloodthirsty crowd?

Similarly colored eyes held onto Teagan’s own. Even the cooler tone of their irises was warm. Everything about her was glowing. Strong. Cropped ashy blonde hair was tousled in a striking manor, framing a squared jaw, the framework to an honest grin. She was almost insulting by existence alone.

Teagan grumbled something foul, but ultimately raised her voice to ask, “So are you here for a reason? Because otherwise, get the hell out.” Raising a scarred arm, she added, “I’m kind of going through a bit right now.”

Scylla stepped forward, the winds kicking up once more, but the stranger raised a halting hand. Switching to the common tongue—with that impeccably, irritatingly amicable smile—she chuckled, “Don’t worry. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Although with a lengthy pause and a creased brow, Scylla nodded agreement. “Then I will give you a few moments. Please call if the inmate begins to act hostile.” After flashing a grimace at Teagan, she finally left the room.

So the stranger took a seat on the edge of the bed. It creaked beneath her, filling an otherwise empty room. Or empty until she held out a hand, not with a dagger or a fist or any sort of threat. All she offered was a hand. A greeting.

“Lyudmila Kotov.” Still insufferably smiling. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Teagan glanced over Lyudmila again. This likely wasn’t a pity visit. Probably some official of the Damoclean Empire looking for press coverage in dealing with the prison. Or an old rival from a few years back hoping to rematch. Someone not worth a greeting.

“Not much of a talker, then. I can get behind that. Some folks just aren’t worth talking to.” Lyudmila pulled her hand back, resting it on her knee. It was all too harmless. “Though you seem to be an interesting sort, Teagan.”

So Lyudmila was looking to talk. Fine—they could talk.

“If you’re here for an interrogation, I’ll tell you the story, and you don’t have to ask any invasive, dumbass questions.” Despite the pain still wracking beneath her skin like fireside embers, Teagan forced her back to straighted, and barred her arms across her chest. “I won the last fight we had, and Adken Cross was too much of a child to admit that I damn well earned it. So he demands another round, and I say alright.” The corners of her mouth quirked upwards. “And I let some of the other inmates know. Both because there’s nothing else to do in this hellhole, and to know that everyone else had seen that I won fairly. Then the jackass decides last minute to change the rules, and says he can use magic.”

Lyudmila’s expression was static. Why wasn’t she phased? Why wouldn’t she leave?

A dull throbbing pulsed at Teagan’s temples. “Now just about every person here knows I haven’t got a damn ounce of magic in me, so I tell him I’ll abide by the change. I’ll beat him at his own damn game. And you saw. I stuck it out, like I’ve stuck out every other brawl in this place.”

Lyudmilla nodded. Of all the reactions she could of have, she was nodding. What the hell was she conceding? What the hell was she sympathizing with? 

“I’ve gotten through fight after fight, asshole!” Words simply dropped from Teagan’s mouth, hardly formed, one flowing into the other. She hardly registered what she said. “I’ve had charges of desertion, several on vandalizing, numerous on theft, and I can’t even count what I’ll be given for public unrest after my stay in this piece of crap prison!”

Teagan slammed on the side of the bed, hissing, “Does that match your idea of an ‘interesting sort?’ Because I think it’s awfully fitting. So no questions, and leave me the hell alone will you?”

She breathed in heaving gasps. Everything hurt. The statements had crawled out of her throat, leaving her voice raw. The scars from the fight were still fresh. The tender spots about her piercings were acting up again. The side of her fist was burning.

And Lyudmila only tilted her head. “An interesting sort indeed.”

[smoothshift]

Got to finally drive a dream manufacturer for me... 2015 Porsche 911 Turbo S via /r/cars

Got to finally drive a dream manufacturer for me... 2015 Porsche 911 Turbo S

I'm equally both parts so happy I got to drive a Porsche, and yet sad at the same time that after this week is out, I'll most likely never get to drive one again (unless I get lucky/win the lottery).

Family friend was out of town for a week... My parents/I've known him since I was in my early teens but now that I'm in my 30s, he is in his twilight years and had a couple health scares, he has gotten more "share the wealth" in his mentality with his friends and family. So he asks if I can cat & house sit for 8 days, I say sure why not. To be my utmost surprise, he says "hey grachi, feel free to drive the 911, Rover, or the Bentley. Just try not to crash anything and fill up whatever you get down to less than half a tank on." I laughed at first and said "Oh yea, I'll try to", to which in a way I never saw him look at me or in a tone say to me, "seriously... just enjoy".

I show up the next day and as 10 minutes later after he leaves, I open the door to his 2 part garage. The one houses the 911, the other two the Bentley and Land Rover. There it is: the 911 Turbo S. At first I just circled it, still not believing I was about to drive a Porsche, and not just any Porsche, a 911, a variant of car I've wanted to drive since I was 12 years old. I open the door and sit down and my heart just starts pumping as the on-screen speedometer lights up and that Turbo S illuminates on the further right panel.

I hit the garage door button, and then I turn the rather odd looking keyless ignition switch. She comes to life with a roar and immediately; goosebumps. I still can't believe this is happening. I back her out so carefully I was probably emulating an 85 year old woman in a grocery store parking lot.

I put her in drive and in Sport mode, and wind my way down his tree-lined forest driveway. Check both ways, pull out on the empty country road and let it rip. Immediately I'm thrown back in my seat and I feel a smile come across my face, and I start audibly laughing out loud. Then I realize tears are even starting to well up slightly. The immediacy and the response as I take her through corners, and then let the accelerator down in the straights... It is everything I wanted it to be. Even though it was only in the 50s outside, I had both windows cracked and the radio off just to hear every bit of the engine and that exhaust. After I get comfortable with her, I put it in Sport plus and watch as the dash informs me the chasis is lowering and the spoiler is raising. I take her through the best windy corners I know, same smile on my face the whole way. I drove the 15 minutes to my parents place and showed my dad, let him take it around the neighborhood, enjoying the same reactions I had just moments earlier. Quarter of a tank of gas later and I'm feeling greedy and somewhat guilty that I'm taking this car out for so long, so I take her home right before sundown.

The next couple days I take out the rover and Bentley as well. Honestly the Rover was just like pretty much any other SUV I've been in but had nicer seats and appointments in side. The Bentley is just royalty on wheels. Great ride but didn't have the "passion" I felt in the 911.

I have some pics on my phone, I'll upload them in the comments