#the very first day i ventured out drunk and went to the train tracks to see if i could

[sa4phire]

straight up

god sent me my angels.

LIL J 🥹 jimin WAS ALWAYZ THE REALEST MANN

@depressedandconfused

@lose-me-in-the-sun

@huesofhysteria

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 4

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 4: Tommy and Leah spend the night together at the Garrison.

          The Garrison’s lively hum was muffled from the outside. Bright, golden light poured out into the gray streets beckoning any Brummie passerby.

           Tommy paced a short track in front of the pub. His cigarette smoke trailed after him like a ghost. He continued to ruminate on the idea that he hadn’t been out formally with a woman since Grace. He wasn’t necessarily nervous about it, he was more uneasy about the circumstances. The Blinder was pretty good at taking what he wanted and winning people over. And yet Leah felt strangely off limits to him.

           But he stopped worrying when he noticed Leah walking down the street towards him. When she came into better light, he realized how utterly fucked he was.

           Leah had reclaimed some of the self-esteem she had lost over the years. She held her chin a little higher than before and stood taller. As far as Tommy was concerned, Birmingham didn’t deserve the woman in front of him.

           “Did I keep you waiting long?” Leah worried she had taken too much time getting ready. She had finally settled on a simple blue dress that hung just above the knees.

           He shook his head, jostling his brain out of the fog clouding up his train of thought. “No, ‘course not.” He cleared his throat. “You look very nice.”

           She smiled. “Thank you.” It was a fairly nice comment coming from someone who had seen her naked twice.

           Tommy went to open the pub doors but paused. “My brothers are here.” He warned. Of course, it was rare the Shelby boys weren’t occupying the pub on the weekends. “The won’t bother you if you’d rather not meet them now.”

           “No, that’s alright. I’d like to meet them.” She nodded earnestly. John and Arthur had been mentioned in Jonah’s letters as well so she was keen to meet them.

           “Right,” The Blinder wasn’t sure what sort of grief his brothers would give him when they learned he was on a date. But he wouldn’t tell Leah that. So, he walked into the Garrison with her. The pub was crowded as usual. Mostly regulars lined the bar. Others in the area were too afraid to venture into one of the gang’s dens.

           “Alright, lads.” He approached where John, Arthur, and a few more Blinders sat at the bar.

           “Tommy boy, though you were avoiding us tonight.” Arthur clapped his brother on the back.

           “This is Leah Ward.” Tommy touched the woman’s shoulder ever so slightly. “Her husband served in the 179th with us.” He gave the men a look meant to keep them in line in her presence.

           “Jonah was a good man.” John nodded to her. “Shame what happened.”

           “Very good man.” Arthur echoed. “N’fact, let’s toast to him.” He waved for another round of drinks. John handed Leah and his brother a glass of whiskey as Arthur began. “A toast to Jonah, he gave his life for this country. We won’t forget him.”

           “And a toast to his wife,” John added. “God bless her for being seen out with Tommy Fucking Shelby.” It was clear the man was already drunk.

           Tommy glared at his younger brother but Leah smiled. She raised her glass. “Cheers.”

           “Cheers!” The Blinders echoed and threw back the whiskey.

           “Right, I’ll find us a quieter spot.” Tommy wanted to leave before John or Arthur said anything else. He led Leah to a free table a good distance away from the rowdy bar.

           “They seem nice.” She said politely as he pulled out a chair for her.

           “I’ve yet to hear anyone call my brothers nice.” He sat close to her so they could hear one another amidst the din of the pub. “I won’t tell them that, it’ll only inflate their egos.”

           Leah chuckled and shook her head. “So, Beth said you own this place. It’s beautiful.” She stole a look of the gold embellishments. It was certainly not reminiscent of the city it was in.

           “My brothers look after it more nowadays.” He replied. “Used to come about more but I’ve been traveling.” He flipped open his cigarette box and offered one to her.

           She accepted and leaned closer so he could light it for her. “She also said she knew Grace when she worked here. I guess before you two married. Is that how you met?”

           He nodded slowly and took a long drag. “She sang here.” His eyes moved instinctually to the spot where his late wife used to stand. “Only person in the world who could make this place silent on a Saturday night.”

           “Beth said everyone loved to hear her sing.”

           His eyes moved from the spot before he began to picture Grace standing there. He downed the rest of his whiskey. “Do you sing?” He asked.

           Leah held her cigarette over the silver ashtray. “I think all the cats in Birmingham would show up if I tried singing. I’ll spare your ears.”

           Tommy smiled and felt relaxed by her presence and the burn of whiskey running down his throat. For the first time in a while, he felt comfortable where he sat. There was only so much he could worry about at once, and Leah dramatically reduced that number when he looked at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           The night wore on and both Leah and Tommy were throwing back drinks like it was their last night alive. They were both looking to loosen up and to feel more self-assured. It did the trick though because a few hours in and they were talking openly without any of the mental blocks they usually had. Leah was thrilled to actually see Tommy genuinely smile and to hear his lovely laugh.

           Arthur jabbed John and pointed across the room. “Fuck. What?” John groaned. He was about ready to call it a night after being goaded into multiple shots and a line of cocaine.

           “Have you seen him smile like that since his wedding day?” Arthur asked.

           John spotted Tommy and Leah sitting close together. The two were laughing like they were old friends. Indeed, it had been a long while since Tommy had such a happy look on his face. “Hell, I ain’t seen him smile like that since Greta were alive.” He told his older brother.

           “Think it could be something?”

           “Nah, s’just the whiskey and a pretty face.” John shook his head. “He’ll be back to good ‘ol Tommy by the morning time.” He predicted and filled Arthur's glass again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “You can’t always be working.” Leah accused and jabbed Tommy playfully. “There has to be something you enjoy doing for fun.” She held up a hand before he answered. “And drinking doesn’t count.”

           He chuckled and let his head fall back for a moment as he thought to himself. His liquor-addled brain was delaying all of his responses. “Well, we’ll go hunting sometimes in the country.”

           “Ooh, that’s posh.” She giggled and leaned towards him, nearly slipping off her chair in the process.

           He rolled his eyes but grinned. His head lolled to the side to look at her with an amused glance. “I tried golfing, fucking hated it. So m’not that posh.”

           “So, hunting’s your thing then?” Leah mimicked holding up a rifle made a bang sound effect.

           Tommy’s hand pressed to his chest, pretending to be wounded and slumped back into his chair. “Got me.”

           It drew a laugh from her. “A man who likes the thrill of a hunt.” She mused. “I could see that about you.”

           He shrugged and finished another glass of whiskey. “Just prefer riding out in the country, really. Grew up with horses so I’ve always liked them.” He told her the personal detail without much hesitation.

           “So, you’re a horseman then? A British cowboy?” Her voice lilted with affectionate teasing.

           “Only when I’m in Warwickshire.” They had run through his cigarettes so they’d been passing the last one back and forth. He offered it to her while he spoke. “When I’m here, I’m focusing on horses that’ll make me money on the track.”

           Leah let the smoke pass by her red painted lips. “Back to business then, eh? You’ll work yourself to death if you're not careful.”

           “I have some time. Gonna teach Charlie to ride when he’s a bit older. He can’t wait, always asks when he’ll be able to. Want to buy him a horse soon, maybe for Christmas."

           The affection in the father’s eyes was clear. There was nothing more important in the world than Charlie. “You must miss him when you’re away.” Her voice sobered up a little despite the nicotine and booze.

           “Well, I’d be a monster if I didn’t.” He took the cigarette back from her and finished what was left. “Better he’s raised there than here.” It was the justification he used for leaving Charlie behind in Warwickshire. The boy would not grow up the same way he had. He promised Grace he’d keep their son safe.

           There was undeniable sadness in his eyes so Leah decided to ease off his heart. “I’ve never ridden a horse.” She admitted. “My mum was afraid of them.”

           “You’re fucking kidding.” Tommy huffed out a laugh. Growing up as Romani, he just assumed everyone was familiar with horses. Being in the city meant that wasn’t always the case. “Well, you haven’t lived until you’ve ridden at least once.”

           “A horse, you mean,” Leah smirked and bit her lip.

           It took Tommy a quick moment to catch onto what she meant. “Cheeky.” He tutted and shook his head. “C’mon.” He suddenly stood up. The room swayed a bit but he righted himself.

           “Where are we going?” Leah snatched up her coat and purse. She was less stable on her feet and nearly tripped over her own feet.

           “Gotcha, gotcha.” He steadied her before she could fall over. He secured an arm around her waist as they walked out of the Garrison. The air mixed with a bitter chill and the overwhelming smoke. It was sobering after a few minutes of traveling down the streets of Small Heath.

           “Where are we going?” Leah asked again.

           “Me uncle’s yard.” Tommy’s accent was slipping off; dropping the ends of words and finding himself back as the rough and tumble boy. The lanky kid who got into at least one fight every day, rode horses with reckless abandon, and snuck out late at night to visit Greta. Such a simpler existence. “We keep the horses there, ‘til they’re sent off to be trained for the track.” He explained. “Got a filly in recently.”

~~~~~~~~~

           Leah followed Tommy to Charlie’s yard. It was dimly lit in the late hours, but they managed to make their way through to the stalls. The chestnut filly raised her head when she heard them approaching. Her nostrils flared and the warm-blooded horse spooked to the side.

           “S’alright.” Tommy stepped inside and held out a hand to the horse’s muzzle. “Just me. There ya are, that’s a good girl, eh?” He soothed in a steady voice. Leah lagged behind, watching him interact with the large animal. The same tenderness was there when he interacted with Karl or spoke of his son. The man wanted to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. “Good girl.” He stroked the horse’s neck, praising her slowly. His blue eyes moved to Leah and gestured her over. “She’s harmless, just a little skittish with loud noises. Usually, are when they’re young.”

           She carefully stepped forward, minding her feet. The last thing she wanted was the long-legged filly to step on her toes. “It’s like she’s listening to you.” She murmured quietly as she observed the horse’s ears flicking back and forth in response to Tommy’s voice.

           “They’re smarter than people think.” He took Leah’s hand and placed it on the filly’s cheek. “Can sense the weather, danger, emotions.”

           Leah’s hand slowly ran over the filly’s silky coat. “That’s amazing.” She looked into the horse’s eye, the strangely shaped pupil gazing back at her. “What’s her name?” She wondered.

           “Haven’t named her yet.” Tommy shrugged and rubbed the horse’s soft muzzle affectionately. “We’ll give her a name for the track once she’s trained. Curly usually nicknames them but she just arrived.” She nodded and continued patting the horse, adjusting her forelock and running her fingers through her wiry mane. Tommy watched her for a moment. Her touches were tentative, almost how she touched him. She was afraid of being hurt by things beyond her control. A wild horse. A man with a devilish reputation. “Leah.”

           “Hm?” The dim lanterns cast shadows over her face but he could still see the faint sparkle in her eyes.

           The liquid courage was starting to wear off. “I uh…” He shook his head, pretending as if the thought had completely slipped his mind. “Sorry, forgot what I was going to say.” He lied. Of course, he knew what he was going to say.

           She smiled teasingly. “Maybe we had too much whiskey.”

           “I’m walking, aren't I?” He shrugged but decided to take a seat on a nearby bale of hay. He rested his head back and closed his eyes for a moment.

           Leah stepped away from the filly and cautiously walked over to him. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately because it was too early to tell, she was still free from most inhibitions. “Tommy.”

           “Eh?” He didn’t open his eyes.

           “Are you interested in me?” She chewed on her lower lip and rocked back and forth on her heels like an impatient child.

           “Yeah, think you’re interesting.” He looked up at her through half-lidded eyes. “Why?”

           “No not…I mean-”

           “Oh. You mean do I want to fuck you again?”

           Her cheeks burned because of his brash response but she gave an amused smile. “Yes, you could put it that way.” She stepped closer so her dress brushed up against his knees.

           Tommy straightened up and reached out to rest his hands on her hips. “Unfortunately, love, I can be a bit of an addict for certain things.” He murmured. “And you’ve been on me mind for weeks.”

           Leah’s heart sped up and she lightly grazed her fingers through his hair. "You've been on my mind too." She looked down shyly.

           But that wasn't acceptable. He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her face back up so he could see her. “But this time, we’ll do it our way.” His eyes locked on hers, not letting her look away. “We’re not in that fucking hotel anymore, eh?

           She nodded in agreement. “Okay.” It sounded hopeful to her. There was less fear about Tommy merely using her for sex. Of course, if her friend were there, Bea would scold her. Tell her she was being foolish and naïve despite all her experience as a sex worker. She was just won over by a handsome face, devastating blue eyes, and a longing for attachment.

           But Bea wasn’t there to turn her away from the Shelby man. And Leah had craved his touch for what was far too long in her opinion. It simply wasn’t enough being in his company for the night. They were both itching for that high and they could push aside the impending questions of commitment. And they would delay it another night. Leah followed him back to Watery Lane and would be sewn into Tommy Shelby’s history for good.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[mikiruma]

im gonna talk abt tf2 and pokemon again bc i can.

scout of course would dig fast pokémon!!! he's probably got a jolteon he loves dearly, maybe even a crobat he was given (as a zubat) in childhood. from who? eyes emoji there are faster pokémon, sure, but a lot are legendaries or bugs- and he's still trying to warm up to bugs. when/if he did, you KNOW he'd be all over ninjask or accelgor. he usually fawns over pokémon he thinks would make him look cool or fit his fight style (ie hit ur opponents the hardest first & dont get touched) but has a weak spot for some of the "cuter" ones. probably tried to lick a vanillish. as staunch a believer i am he'd be from castelia city, i like the idea that he used to be a rocket grunt, or someone who wanted to join team rocket at one point. i was trying to decide if he'd have a type preference but i like to think he's a mixed bag, mostly because every pokémon is cool and exciting to him! if you did ask & he did have to pick, it'd definitely be electric. wait, dragon, obviously... nah, fighting is good. no wa

soldier's partner is obvious! zigzagoon! mostly bc its a raccoon-like lil dude... he probably gives nicknames to every pokémon he sees, not necessarily just the ones he tries to catch. because lets face it, his zigzagoon is the ONLY pokémon that matters to him. well, that and any that catches zhanna's eye. his zigzagoon carries an everstone and is probably stupid high levelled but nobody really keeps track. soldier does initiate a lot of battles, but they're more fun when zhanna's with him too! theyre an inseperable group who probably wreak enough havoc to be considered their own team of hooligans, but who's to stop a happy couple with their adorable op pokémon? also i kinda wrote all that down super quick buuuut zigzagoon also works as a support pokémon for him when his stability gets extra rough, laying on his lap and helping to keep him grounded. he doesnt have any desire to keep more pokémon since he's fine with just 1, but if he had more i think he might get along with loudred or chatot. (chatot would DEFINITELY take some warming up to on his end but i LOVE THE THOUGHT)

pyro loves fire types of course!!! theyre probably the only one brave enough to pet their hotter ones. engineer probably made em special gloves just so they could play with their slugma... its hard to pick favorites, but the ones theyre closest to are slugma and monferno. they also have a solosis who just loves to play! unlike other people who usually just have one pokémon walking with em at all times, pyro tends to keep all three of theirs out of their pokéballs. they worry about them getting cramped or bored, and while its good exercise, sometimes its difficult to wrangle them when solosis has someones hat and slugmas melting through the furniture and monferno found spy's disguise kit.. theyre a big happy family though!! i think pyro would also like fairy types a lot, but if they got a fourth pokémon, theyd probably keep it at a daycare for the sake of themselves and the rest of the team. just in case, they might really want a sylveon or snubbull.

demoman and any pokémon knowing any explosive moves is an obvious fit! i initially liked him and electrode for this, but since part of their biology is exploding unpredictably... maybe that ones saved for battling. or at least not kept at any of the bases. i like the idea of him keeping his battle partners & normal team separate. when he's not drunk, he's a very skilled trainer and actually took a handful of gym challenges when he was younger. of course it started getting tough to balance work and training, but he never intended to get far in gyms anyway- to him it was just a fun challenge where he got to bond with his pokémon. other than his electrode, he's probably also got a charmeleon (whos either causing mischief with pyro's monferno or keeping demo company while he works/naps) and a honedge (who he will spar with sometimes). he used to have several other pokémon, but he eventually didn't like keeping them all abandoned in pc boxes, and ended up rehoming a lot of them. scout probably has a meowth from him, but he wont tell you.

heavy never cared too much about setting up huge teams or amassing a large collection. he never carries pokéballs, but his party is made up of some impressive pokémon. unlike most of the team who catch their pokémon through normal means (trade/gift, fishing, etc), he befriended his naturally. its easy to say one is ursaring, so of course im going to say it. he wont share how they met, but i wanna say he found its egg abandoned and raised it from there. they probably wrestle a lot but theyre always careful not to seriously injure each other. he befriended his mamoswine (then swinub) shortly after, then his abomasnow much later, in between him busting his family out of the gulag & leaving to find work. he left all three in siberia in the care of his family, but has a teddiursa from his ursaring to think of them all by. probably spoils the crap out of em all every chance he gets though, he loves his pokémon as much as his human family and saves recipes for poképuffs & poffins.

engineer wasn't always on board w the idea of a partner pokémon, mainly because he was always into engineering and was sure he'd be too caught up in it to focus on.. well, anything else. sure, when he was younger, he was like most kids and dreamt of being a league champion, but it always seemed to fall through.. until he discovered steel types. he started his journey later than most, but more than anything he's thankful because they help immensely with his work and lighten the load. he has a magneton who.. isn't that bright, but he's cute and thats what matters. he's also got a rotom who occasionally helps experiment with new machines, but mostly just possesses dispensers and rubs itself on everyone and everything. yum, static cling! engie didn't get into battling as much as he thought he would, but he's essentially working his dream job with his best friends (and 8 other dorks) so things are pretty good. this doesnt mean he wont go for human help when hes stumped or burnt out, though! other partner thoughts i had were torkoal, raichu and porygon2.

sniper is probably the biggest pokémon expert out of everyone on the team (well, aside from medic probably.) he's basically a walking pokédex and can tell you all about type matchups. he's also way closer to his pokémon than people realize, and especially closer than any real people. this is especially noticeable with his baby kangaskhan- although with a heavier origin than simply "abandoned", he ended up bonding with heavy over the ordeal. even with more technical aspects memorized, raising this baby was a completely new venture- not one he hated though! he also collects bug pokémon (that he lets scout get close to,when he tries to get over his fear) & has a slakoth that just kinda.. fell asleep on him one time and just never went away. other choices include koamala or krokorok.

medic is like a pokémon professor but fucked up. while he was primarily a human doctor, after losing his medical license, he started to dedicate time to studying pokémon. he doesnt run inhumane experiments on them because i said so. he's working on filling up his pokédex more than anything, and loves listening to others talk about their partners or other species theyve seen. he has his own pokémon too of course! as the team healer its only natural he has healing pokémon like audino and blissey, but he has a soft spot for flying types, specifically the birds. he has way too many pidove. he probably has a massive aviary separate from his medical lab where he keeps more birds, namely pidgeotto, fearow and some starly. he used to travel a lot (especially after being chased out of his hometown), but he saw it as more chances to discover new pokémon. probably has a very illegal form of the pokémon boxes with no storage limit. also probably heard the stories about mew and mewtwo and actually got inspired. probably owns the most pokémon merc, specifically stationery- hey, if ur getting some unethical experiment performed on you by the german guy you tried to rob earlier that night, are you going to pay more attention to his shit eating smirk or his cool ass holographic pikachu pencils??? or perhaps the cutesy eeveelutions stickers on the back of his clipboard???? thats what i thought.

spy looks like the guy who would probably be the least into pokémon, but that couldn't be further from the truth. he's not as wild as scout or medic by any means, but back in his day he was "pretty decent" (a gym leader.) i like the idea of zoroark being his partner, but you know who else is cool??? cofagrigus. gengar. banette. probably the only one on the team to actually get into mega evolving. and the only one with a shiny, but its gengar so we dont talk about that. i wont imply he loves his pokémon over his own family, he's just had a lot on his plate. remember scouts crobat? while hes got a more methodical approach to battling, he doesnt do it nearly as often as he used to. he still keeps his gym team, and though they tend to be more serious than the other pokémon in the base, they do on occasion get into trouble with others, namely pyro's solosis and scout's jolteon. not misbehaving on purpose, just being curious :0 probably uses luxury balls to catch all his pokémon and has an unused love ball with scouts moms name engraved on the bottom. (either for the novelty, or maybe hes trying to find the right one to catch for her??)

[zeltricstudio]

'CAPTURE THE MOMENT'

DAWN

AUGUST 2015

“What is this shit?” Tony said as he slapped a few polaroids onto the table. The pictures were of a blurry figure in the woods at night

“Proof” Johnny replied as he lit a cigarette

“This isn’t proof. This is blurry nonsense”

“No it’s not, it’s an unknown creature in the woods” Johnny said, not paying as he continued smoking

Tony took the cigarette from Johnny’s mouth and put it out.

“Hey! I was up in the woods till 2 am trying to get you these photos, that’s gotta be worth something” Johnny said, sitting upright

“I have been very patient with you Johnny. I covered for you when you missed deadlines, showed up reeking of alcohol and even when you feel asleep in the bathroom but this is one incident too many” Tony said, rubbing his temples in frustration

“Come on, you know how hard I work-“ Johnny began to talk but was cut off

“Oh I know. All you do is fuck all, and taking shitty pictures. If I wanted shitty pictures I would do it myself”

“Please, give me one more chance, I promise I’ll fix up my act” Johnny begged

“Okay” Tony took in a very deep sigh “I’ll give you one more chance, but if you fuck this up I am done with you” Tony said sternly

“Okay thank you, I promise I won’t mess this up”

“Stop with the false promises, just actually do it. If I don’t see some goddamn proof of something in those fucking woods you’re getting the boot. Now get out of my office!” Tony yelled.

“Thank you once again, I promise not to let you down” Johnny said as he quickly got out of the room. He knew better than to push his luck when Tony got angry with him.

“Fucking prick” Johnny said once he was out of the room and the door was closed. Johnny lit another cigarette and proceeded to make his way out of the building.

Johnny was a competent photographer working for the Happyvile Paper but it didn’t take long before his charm would wear off and people began noticing he was not as good as he claimed to be. At first his excuses could past but now his boss was beginning to get annoyed with how bad he was. Johnny knew if he wanted to keep his job, he was going to need something good to show his boss. Johnny returned to his apartment and once inside, he put his equipment onto the ground and immediately fell onto his sofa, not bothering to change out of his work clothes as he went to bed.

A few hours later, around 7 pm he was woken up by some loud banging.

“Who the fuck is that?!” he shouted out, still laying on the couch

“It’s Ella”

“Oh shit” Johnny whispered to himself as he immediately sat upright and tried to make himself look presentable. “One moment” he said as he straightened his jacket and pants. Johnny slicked his hair back and opened the door.

“Hello love-“

“You’re a piece of shit” Ella said as she pushed herself past Johnny into the apartment.

“Come on it” Johnny said and closed the door

“I can’t believe you forgot” Ella said with a pissed off tone in her voice

“I didn’t forget, I just took a nap is all. I was going to call you”

“Oh yeah, where are we eating?”

“Uh- well um- there’s- there’s this uh” Johnny began stuttering, trying to think of someplace

“God, I can’t believe you!”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been caught up in work is all”

“With work? Getting drunk in the woods and taking pictures of trees isn’t work at all”

“Babe please-“

“Take your ‘babe please’ and shove it. I feel like I’m the only one trying to put in any real effort into this relationship”

“I put plenty effort into this relationship, okay? Sorry if I forgot this one time”

“I’ve made dinner plans the past 7 times! I’m the one who is constantly changing my schedule to suit yours! The amount of times we’ve had to go to the pub because you ‘forgot’ fucking hurts” Ella said, using her fingers to make air quotes for the word ‘forgot’

“Look, I’m having a really bad string of luck, just please, let me deal with work first and I’ll focus on us okay? If I do this next assignment well, I promise to take you out to a fancy dinner. I’ll make plans and everything”

Ella stood there in silence, angrily fuming as Johnny patiently waited, giving her sad eyes to gain sympathy

“You promise?” Ella asked

“Yes, 100% I promise” Johnny said with sincerity in his voice

“Okay, but I’m serious if you forget we. Are. Over!” Ella said and began leaving the apartment

“Thank you babe, I love you so much-“

“Go fuck yourself” Ella said as she slammed the door shut on her way out.

“Fucking hell” Johnny said once she was out and laid back onto the couch. After a few minutes, Johnny sat back up and lit another cigarette, before taking his laptop out of his bag and turning it on. Johnny searched “creature sightings in Sunshine” and began looking through various links. Most were obvious clickbait headlines, but one caught his attention. “The Dawn Animal Study Group”. Johnny began reading it and this was the ticket he needed. Lots of discussions about various creature sightings in Dawn and a few more images of possible creatures, but none with enough clarity. Johnny saw a number to one of the members and called them.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end spoke

“Hey mate, this is uh Jim calling about your latest photo in the study group animal thing”

“Well hello Jim, the name’s Zac. I’m glad you’re interested in our study group”

“Very interested. I’m a photographer and I love exploring wildlife and all that” Johnny said, trying to fake his enthusiasm

“I agree. Was there something you called about specifically?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you might know of any good spots to take pictures. I tried in Happyvile but there is just nothing here”

“Happyvile? That is quite far away, are you sure?”

“Oh definitely. Got the weekend free, I am prepared to just get out there and spend the weekend taking pictures”

“Well that’s wonderful to hear. If you’re serious I might know a few spots you could head to”

“Great, that works”

“We all are exploring different parts, I’ll give you an unmarked area to explore. Who knows, you might be the first in finding something new. If you drive out to Camp Star National, you can park your car their and go venturing into the woods. It’s near a trail so if you get lost you can find your way back”

“Cheers mate, you’ve been a great help”

“Anytime. Take care”

“Take care”

Later that night, Johnny began researching about the trail and how to get there. Thankfully he was a frequent camper so he had all the gear ready to go. Johnny called Ella to let her know where he was going.

“I’m not here at the moment, please leave a name and number and I’ll get back to you *BEEP*”

“Hey babe, I’m going to be heading into Dawn tomorrow for my assignment. Normally I would ask you but I know you’re mad so I’ll just give you some space. I promise when I get back, I’ll get to work on making those dinner arrangements” Johnny hung up the phone and went to bed.

The next morning, Johnny woke up early at 5 am and began making his drive. After 2 hours of driving, Johnny arrived at Camp Star National. Johnny went to the Ranger’s Station to report in.

“Name?” The Ranger asked as he clicked his pen

“Johnny Finn” Johnny replied

“How long will you be camping?”

“2, 3 days”

“Have you been camping before?”

“Yes, plenty of times”

“Okay, I know you know the basic rules but I got to go over them”

“Yeah I know” Johnny said as he began lighting a cigarette

“1. No littering of any kind. This includes clothing, camp gear and other item, especially cigarettes.” He said and eyed Johnny, who stopped himself and put the packet back into his pocket

“Whatever you bring with you, you take back with you.

2. No hunting or disturbing the wildlife.

3. If you have animals, make sure to clean up after them.

And 4. No going beyond the yellow tape”

“Yellow tape” Johnny asked, curiously

“We are still exploring the area and making a trail. Anything past the yellow tape is unexplored and most likely not safe to go through”

“Ah right”

“Yep. Please sign this to acknowledged you heard the rules and agree to them. Failure to comply can result in a fine”

Johnny signed the paper and he began setting out to explore. Johnny ventured off the main path and continued walking through the dense woods. The further Johnny went, the less he saw people camping and eventually he was all alone until he came across the yellow tape. Johnny thought for a few seconds and thought ‘fuck it’ and went anyways. He most likely would be returning the next morning and figured he couldn’t get lost easily. Johnny ducked under the tape and went off.

After a few hours of walking it began to get dark. Johnny was prepared to set-up camp until he noticed something in the distance. Johnny saw what looked to be train tracks that were still intact. Johnny followed the tracks for a bit and that’s when he noticed there was movement ahead. There was a group of men in black clothing moving what looked to be a metal box on wheels. The box was strapped down with chains and was shaking violently as whatever inside was trying to get out. Johnny would’ve turned away but he needed something and this was the best he was going to get. Johnny put his equipment down and took his camera with him as he slowly trailed behind the men, sticking to the trees.

As Johnny trailed behind, he began silently snapping a few more pics. The tracks lead to what appeared to be a tunnel. The entrance to the tunnel was closed off by security fences with a sign on them saying “NO TRESSPASSING”. The men removed the fence and wheeled the metal box through before closing it. Once the men began descending, Johnny waited and looked around and once the coast was clear, he climbed the fence over and began his descent. Soon it began to get darker and darker and Johnny took out his lighter to light the path. The closer Johnny got, the more the rotten smell began to intensify. It was putrid, so Johnny hiked his shirt up over his noise to try and block out the smell. Johnny reached the bottom of the hill and contemplated if he should venture further into the tunnel.

“Fuck, fuck” he said quietly to himself, debating his actions. “Come on Johnny, you’ve come this far, don’t pussy out now” he reminded himself and continued walking into the tunnel. The tunnel was very wide, with 4 tracks running through. Some were still intact and others had been stripped and removed. The eerie silence and darkness didn’t help Johnny as his heart began beating faster. The sound of his feet and the flickering of his lighter were amplified in the tunnel and sounded much louder than they were. After a few minutes of wondering in the darkness, Johnny noticed a light in the distance. As Johnny got closer, he noticed a small living area had been set up. There were train carts that had been stripped of their wheels and some couches and folding chairs in poor condition strew around several barrels on fire, lighting up most of the area. Johnny could hear the men up ahead and went into a train car and hid in the darkness to peak on them.

“Okay, easy now” one of the men said as he and another man were setting down the metal box onto the ground and removing the chains.

One of the men from a side room walked into view, dragging a man who had been bound and gagged, viciously struggling against him.

“Relax pal, quit squirming” the man in black said before gut punching the bound man, making him double over and fall to the ground, curling up

“Okay we ready?” one of the men said

“Yeah” the others all agreed and all of the men left the area and went into the backroom. One of the men took out a small knife and stabbed the bound man in the arm.

“MMMMMM” the bound man tried screaming, but his gag prevented it.

The last man ran into the backroom and shut the door. The metal cage began beating faster and faster. Johnny was horrified but he still continued taking pictures, making a mental note to alert the Ranger to what was happening. The metal box began to break, first the hinges popped and then the chain surrounding the door broke free. The door popped open and a creature came tumbling out. The creature was the most horrific thing Johnny had seen. He appeared to be a humanoid figure, with most of the skin stitched together, giving the appearance of a melted man. His arms were massive and building out, as if there were about to pop. It’s head was covered in giant bubbles of flesh, obstructing his face. The creature got up and began walking over to the bound man, who tried to wiggle away but the pain was too much for him to push past. The creature grabbed the bound man by his neck and easily lifted him a few feet into the air, strangling him. The creature then grabbed his shoulder and began pulling the head apart. With a single motion, the creature tore the head off the man, spraying blood all over the area.

Johnny was in completely shock and nearly vomited, horrified at what he just witnessed. The creature was about to continue ripping apart the man, until he stopped and stared directly at Johnny. The sudden stare made Johnny stumble, giving away his location. The creature threw the man’s body at the wall, making a sickening splat noise as it hit the concrete with intense force. Johnny quickly got back up and began running to the exit as the creature began running. The creature’s footsteps were extremely heavy, making loud thuds as it slowly began closing in on Johnny. The darkness of the tunnel were suddenly illuminated by red lights that filled the entire room. With the entire tunnel lit up, Johnny began noticing all the dead bodies slumped against the walls. All of them were torn or destroyed, with their guts sprayed out and stretched across the walls. Johnny didn’t have time to stop as he heard the sound of mechanisms activating. Near the hill leading up, a giant metal gate dropped down and made an extremely thunderous slam as it fell to the ground.

“No no no no!” Johnny began screaming as he reached the gate. The bars were too tight together, not allowing enough room to squeeze past. Johnny turned around and saw the creature running towards him, followed by several more creatures rushing to him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Johnny kept screaming to himself, as the creatures surrounded him and charged at him. The first creature gripped Johnny by his throat and lifted him into the air silencing him as he began choking. Another creature grabbed Johnny by his arm and began tugging him. More and more creatures began grabbing Johnny’s limbs and began pulling. Almost simultaneously, all of Johnny’s limbs were ripped off, their blood spraying all over the gate and walls. Johnny’s head was detached from his body and thrown away. The creatures threw the body parts away from them, some hitting the walls and others hitting the gates. The creatures left the gate and returned to the tunnels.

“*BEEP* You have 2 new messages *BEEP*”

“Don’t bother coming into work today, you’re dead to me. If you show up, I’m calling the cops on you. You are officially fired!” Tony screamed and hung up.

“*BEEP*”

“I really thought you changed Johnny, I really hoped you did. But no calls, you’re not picking up. I’m done with you. Don’t bother calling me, I don’t ever want to see or hear from you again” Ella said and hung up.

“*BEEP*”

“We got anything?” A man in black asked as he put the phone down

“Nothing. Aside from a phone call to girlfriend and some guy named Zac, Johnny only told them he went to Dawn” Another man in black responded as he continued searching through Johnny’s apartment.

“Guess we’re done here”

The man in black pulled out a phone and called someone.

“We’re clean here. Johnny Finn died after being mauled to death by an angry animal. He shouldn’t have crossed the yellow tape”

“Understood” the man on the other end responded.

The man in black hanged up the phone and the two of them left the apartment.

[backtoyourownworld]

A very long read

You’re too young to be an alcoholic. That’s the first thing I hear when I try to share my experiences with someone. I had always liked a drink. From a sip to a chug of my dad’s beer, to helping mum polish off a bottle of vodka; alcohol was in my blood. That line between casual drink out with the mates and waking up on a park bench after a three-day bender is so fine it might as well not exist. Not to me at least. I learnt early on that I lack self-control when it comes to that mind-numbing, fucking fantastic substance that is alcohol. While schoolmates were worrying about GCSEs (exams) and relationships, I was fretting about the new alarms in the local Co-op. What was I to do without my fix of stolen Henry Weston’s cider (chosen because it was least visible from the checkouts). I made a decent living fencing my stolen goods to classmates. I felt like a real fucking entrepreneur selling stolen sandwiches and chocolate bars to fund my drinking. The good stuff was always behind the tills, impossible to pinch and stuff in a schoolbag.

I was promised amazing things for my GCSEs. My pick of schools throughout the country, top-class universities fighting over me. I don’t mean this boastfully, but I was always aware of my intelligence. Even as a primary school pupil I read from the book box two years above me. I couldn’t help it. I was voracious in my desire to learn. 

Things went alright for the first few years of secondary school. I did the work, answered the questions, got the grades. Then the anger came. Call it what you will: teen angst/acting out/attention seeking. Whatever it was, it was real to me. I remember so much anger. So much hate. I was fifteen when things really started getting seriously out of control. All that anger had to come out somewhere. And I chose fighting as my release. Fuelled by a few litres of energy drink a day, I had numerous fights throughout my teen years. I do remember one thing: I always retaliated, I never struck first. Yet the sheer number of times my name was mentioned in incident reports led to me being suspended. God, those flying fists and scratches, and biting felt so good, so primal. It was such a release.

My grades slipped. As became Cs and then Es. And then I stopped caring. Meetings with parents and tutors washed over me like rain. I was numb. I didn’t give a shit about university applications or apprenticeships. All that mattered to me was how deep I could cut. Maybe the next time I would do it deep enough to make it last. It’s hard to care about classes and grades when your mind is focused on the three-inch gash on your leg that you stitched up yourself. The empty water bottle filled up with stolen vodka became a staple in my schoolbag. Mum never seemed to notice how diluted her vodka became. Or the countless other spirits I sampled from the drinks cabinet. Campari and Advocaat. The odd smelling drinks you don’t even know what to mix with so you just chug from the bottle and hope for the best. I won’t deny I enjoyed my celebrity as the drunk girl in school. The girl who could knick you anything from the shop as long as it wasn’t too close to the tills. But while people grew tired of me stumbling in the school hallways, falling off science lab stools, puking between classes; I craved more. Passing out alone in my room wasn’t enough. I embarrassed myself at parties. On one occasion I even ate a piece of pork from a bowl of my own vomit. 

I watched my friends complete their university applications, receive their offers and sort out student finance. Meanwhile I was stuck. What future did a pathetic drunk have. I was convinced I wouldn’t make it to the end of the year so why bother taking up a place at university. But I could never go through with it. I didn’t die. Despite my attempts I was still alive at eighteen. I spent a year at the mercy of the NHS, stuck in purgatory waiting for appointments that never fucking materialised. Don’t get me wrong, the NHS is a wonderful system for healthcare. But not for mental healthcare. A year of my life wasted. A year where I did actually want to accomplish something. I gave up on the NHS like they gave up on me. In a fit of enthusiasm I enrolled myself in college. I finally, three years late, finished my A Levels and earned my place at a Russell Group university.

Being a Fresher at university is like taking a starving man to an all-you-can-eat buffet and saying you can only eat one thing. Temptation is everywhere. And I don’t mean that religious bullshit where it’s somehow noble to turn down any vices. No, I mean the temptation where you find yourself literally salivating in the alcohol aisle of the local supermarket. Standing there with your bread and milk willing the queue to go down faster so you can get away from the cheap lager and that goddamned vodka. Most people’s first year at university is spent intoxicated in one way or another. It’s a fact of university life. That’s how I started. I’d never lived away from home before. Never had the freedom to down vodka with my morning Shreddies. But god, first year was a revelation. Everyone else had it under control. I thought I did too. College had been alright, I’d got my grades while drinking at socially acceptable levels. Why would uni be any harder. Freshers Week. Fucking Freshers Week. I made it to the third night before shit hit the fan. I remember it so vividly despite being so drunk my flatmates tried to convince me not to leave pre-drinks. It was Wild Night. I know because I still have the t-shirt. I was in the smoking section of the Students’ Union club (I don’t even smoke), decked out in my wolf shirt and wild backcombed hair. I climbed the railings. A twenty foot drop onto concrete below me. People screamed. I laughed. Then I remember crying as security dragged me back over the railings and shipped me off to the local alcohol treatment centre - they didn’t know where else to send me. 

I avoided my flatmates after that. Stopped going to lectures. I only left my room to walk to the nearby corner shop and stock up with a couple bottles of vodka and lemonade. The shame I felt for my behaviour was so easy to squash down with booze. My diet became vodka and crisps. I turned almost nocturnal, choosing to venture out of my room in the early hours when I was less likely to encounter my flatmates. I stopped being invited to pre-drinks. I don’t blame them. I was no longer a fun drunk, falling off chairs and singing off-key. I was a puking, punching, mess of a person. Somehow, I managed to pass first year. Despite my self-sabotage I was allowed onto fieldwork for my degree over that first summer. A month in Germany. Four weeks surrounded by cheap beer. I barely remember that month. A few moments do stand out though. Threatening to jump in a lake. Going for a midnight walk through a bramble patch. Finding myself on train tracks. 

I don’t even know what possessed me to attempt second year. I knew I wasn’t prepared. Knew I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to attend university. But still, I went for it. I thought I was doing so well, but I was lying to myself. It was so easy to sleep in and miss a lecture here and there. I’d joined a few societies to help me meet people with similar interests. The socials were great at first. Like-minded people coming together for a casual drink and chat in the pub. And then the socials weren’t enough to satisfy my cravings. Six pints at a social was followed by twelve pints from the off-licence on the way home. Then lager wasn’t enough. I needed something stronger. I remember calculating the price-per-unit for every type of alcohol in my local offy. Their off-brand vodka was the best value for money. Combined with the cheapest lemonade, it was the drunk’s cocktail. Consuming so much alcohol isn’t without its consequences. I put on weight. I had stomach issues. My skin was greasy. And I stank. Vodka was literally oozing out of every pore on my body. The rare lecture I did attend, people would ask me if I’d been drinking. They could smell it on me from ten feet away.

I don’t remember much of the day I slit my wrist. I knew I wanted to hurt myself but I don’t think I meant for it to go that far. I took a bottle of vodka along with me for my bath. Hot water and alcohol make for very thin blood. I recall trying to clean the bathtub after and then phoning a taxi to take me to A&E. After that it’s a blur of disapproving doctors and concerned nurses. Nine stitches later and I was home with instructions to see a therapist. The bottle of vodka was still in the bathroom. Bless my housemate; he’d tried his best to clean up all the blood and throw out my razor. I got sedated with Valium after that. Like a scene from a 1950s mental institution. All that did was numb me even more. I became like a zombie, barely able to get out of bed to wash or feed myself. The only thing I left the house for was to buy more booze. Not long after the bathtub incident I phoned my parents in a drunken mess and begged them for help. They drove 200 miles and took me home that night.

What followed was a year of private counselling and cognitive behavioural therapy to help me learn healthy coping mechanisms. It was decided I should go teetotal. I thought that year out had fixed me, that I was finally a functioning member of society. How wrong I was. Not four weeks into my second attempt at second year and I was drinking heavily again. I get this thought in my head: fuck it all. This is what drives me when I’ve been drinking. What makes me walk out my front door with a bottle in my hand and do something stupid. And it was inevitable that sooner or later my actions would result in serious consequences. 

The worst night of my life was 18th March 2018. I got drunk as usual. But it was supposed to be my final night of drinking. I was going to give it up completely. I’d bought some whiskey. I have a terrible history with whiskey, it gets me violently drunk very fast. I got hammered. That thought of “fuck it all” came into my head and I decided to throw myself into the local river. Once again, I don’t remember much of that night. I do remember drinking the whiskey in my room and then leaving my house. But I don’t remember grabbing the knife or talking to that woman on the bridge. The next thing I do remember is a policeman handcuffing me and shoving me into the back of a police van. That night in the cells was one of the worst of my life. I was like a madwoman, banging my head off the walls and scratching my arms till they bled. I was charged with possession of a bladed article in a public place. Four years in prison. I could have been sent down for that long. But whatever deity there is saved me and let me off with a deal. I see an addiction counsellor instead. No charge, no criminal record. 

At the time of writing this I am still drinking, but I have seriously cut down and am on my way to complete sobriety. God knows I got fucking lucky. 

I just hope one day my luck doesn’t run out. 

Thank you for sticking with me for this long and reading to the end. If you’re going through anything, or just want to talk, my ask is always open.

[angstgods]

Blackouts p. 2

Otabek wanted to surprise him, wanted to sweep Yuri off his feet. After weeks of intensive inpatient therapy, he was finally home. He had one minor spill his first afternoon back in the apartment after he accidentally dropped a glass and went receded into himself out of guilt and fear for ten minutes, but that was a week ago, and Yuri was steadily working himself back into his routine. He went to his first big training day with Yakov this morning and seemed eager to get back on the ice. He’d be home at seven-thirty.

Otabek rounded the corner, passing the park a block from his destination with groceries for later, including strawberries from the vegan market and dark chocolate to dip them in. Yuri would weakly protest and claim he wasn’t supposed to eat foods that would affect his performance on the ice, but he was a sucker for strawberries. Just thinking of the way his eyes would light up brought a small, fond smile to Otabek’s lips. At the very edges of his earshot, he heard something.

“Mommy! Is that Yuri Plisetsky?!”  

Otabek hesitated, then moved on a little slower.

“No, no, honey, I’m sure it’s just… hold on. Maybe it is…”

Otabek stopped, curiously looking over his shoulder at a ten year old girl yanking at her mother’s hand.

“I know it’s him, Mommy, he’s here to find me! We’re in love, y’know. We’re gonna run away to France! And he’s gonna teach me to skate! And we’ll have unicorns at the wedding! And–”

“That’s very nice dear–” the woman gasped when her daughter broke free and tumbled towards the far side of the park. Invested in her story, Otabek turned all the way around and watched her run up to a stranger in black. He guessed it to be a homeless person sleeping on the bench. They were so still that the birds and chipmunks weren’t afraid to draw near, although they all raised their heads in alarm when the girl ran up to them.

“Mister! Hey!” the girl squealed with a bright smile, “Hey! Are you–”

She stopped in her tracks so fast she almost fell forward. Her eyes blew wide open. Her mother let out a startled yelp, and Otabek stopped breathing for a second. The person on the bench shot their hand out, catching a fat lemming that ventured just within their reach. The swift movement dislodged the hood that covered a head of sweat-dampened blond hair. The woman called out to her daughter calmly urging her daughter to come back to her. But the girl’s eyes, as well as Otabek’s, were trained on the little lemming squirming and crying in a steely grip.

“No,” the girl protested softly, “no don’t hurt him.” She dared to take a step forward. “C’mon,” she begged over the frantic screams of the lemming, “put him down, Yuri.”

At the sound of his name, the fog cleared from Yuri’s dead stare at the ground, eyes flicking up to stare right into her soul. It took her breath away, big tears rolling down her eyes. With a final squeeze, the lemming was crushed to death, offering a pathetic pained keen to mark its passing. The pressure popped one of its eyes out of the socket. Yuri stared blankly straight ahead. The girl jolted, then wailed so hard her little lungs ached. She whirled around and stumbled back to her mother, zooming right past Otabek.

“Miss, are you okay?”

“Just leave us alone,” the woman responded automatically, her protective instincts sent to overdrive. But Otabek was quiet and collected, his aura was comforting to the little girl who cried into her mother’s chest. “God, who does that?” she questioned out loud, “what psycho would do such a thing in front of a child? You know what? I’m calling the–”

“Don’t worry,” Otabek graciously interrupted her with his hands raised in surrender.

The woman frowned defiantly. “Why not?” She waited for a logical explanation. Otabek sighed.

“You two were right, that is Yuri Plisetsky.” Despite what she’d just seen the little girl’s eyes lit up. Otabek smiled at her, her cheeks turned pink, and she hid her face again. “I am Otabek Altin, his boyfriend.” The woman nodded in the place of a handshake. “I give you my most sincere apologies on both of our behalfs. That was… It was as horrible for me to watch as it was for you…” Otabek’s mouth hung open for a second, but he couldn’t articulate his mortification beyond that. “He… I shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s the least I can do…” he took a breath, “Yuri experiences these… blackouts, or… fugue states. He’s been in treatment for a few weeks now.” They all looked over to the bench where Yuri sat perfectly still, staring into thin air. He couldn’t contain another deep sigh. “Please,” he implored, “don’t let this be your lasting impression of him. He has no control or memory of it, he’s just… he’s…” Otabek was at a loss for words but the woman’s anger had tempered. Now she wore a look of deep concern. She didn’t ask any questions and didn’t seem like she’d go to the press or police.

“Good luck to you, Mr. Altin,” she said, and left the park with her daughter.

On the bench, Yuri’s hands were in his lap. With his hood off, the wind blew his hair into his eyes. Normally, he’d grumble and bat it away like troublesome flies, but now he was completely still. Slowly twisting off the lemming’s head. Otabek approached with caution, coming to sit beside him.

“Yuri…?” he called softly, “Yuri, can you hear me?” Yuri didn’t respond. The lemming’s neck cracked loudly and triggered Otabek’s gag reflex. He swallowed it down and tried to meet Yuri’s gaze. “Listen to me, listen to me. Your name is Yurochka Nikolaevich Plisetsky. You’re twenty years old. And you’re sitting in the park with me…. My name is Otabek Altin, we met when we were five. We’ve been together for six months now, but we should’ve been together for years.” Yuri dug his nails into the lemming’s fur, trying to tear open its flesh. “Stop that,” Otabek prompted a little too firmly. Yuri brought the nape of the lemming’s neck up to his teeth. “Stop!” Otabek ripped the lemming from Yuri’s hands and knew he’d made a mistake. The second their hands made contact, it sent Yuri into a frenzy.

“No!” he shouted, barely able to form words. Confused, scared shrieks and whimpers crawled up his throat. He fought against Otabek’s grasp around his shoulders, releasing agonized, tormented screams that drew dozens of eyes. Otabek had to pin him to the ground, blanketing Yuri’s body with his own. The compression helped and Yuri calmed down, eyes swimming and dead.

“Yura, look at me,” Otabek tried to force their eyes to meet but Yuri registered nothing. “I know you’re in there, please come back to me,” Otabek begged helplessly. “I love you, you know that? I love everything about you. You’re so smart, and kind, and patient. Your talent is unmatched. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Please, Yuri… please, come back.” Moments passed, then minutes and Otabek stayed still, using his weight to keep Yuri calm as the spectators grew bored and moved on. He whispered into Yuri’s ear, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and ran the tips of his fingers along his skin. “I was on my way home to surprise you…” Otabek tried to hide a slightly embarrassed smile. “You’re working so hard, I wanted to give you a break tonight. I have dinner,” Yuri stirred under Otabek’s weight, “I have strawberries and chocolate, I got coffee for the house for when you don’t wanna socialize.” Yuri’s lashes fluttered over his dull eyes as they very slowly lightened. “Yeah? You like that?” Otabek coaxed, “tell me. Tell me, Yura…” Yuri whined, and shuffled his shoulders. Otabek held his face steady, but Yuri’s eyes still didn’t see him.

“Beka…” Yuri’s voice was hoarse and far away, “Is that you…?” The glimmer of life in his eyes faded. It almost died, but Otabek pressed Yuri’s palm to the side of his own face, forcing him to feel his presence.

“Yes, Yura, yes, it’s me. I’m right here. I’m right here, sweetheart.” The look of confusion that crossed Yuri’s features was hard to watch, but it was something, better than complete catatonia. Yuri’s hands fluttered, looking for something to grab onto to ground him. A vague wash of fear passed over him as he felt himself slipping away. Otabek offered his free hand and Yuri latched on, crushing it in his grip. Otabek winced, but returned the grip, holding Yuri down like a balloon threatening to escape to the clouds.

They walked home. Otabek pulled Yuri’s hood up over his head to hide his face. He walked like a zombie, stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling more than once. Otabek excused him to passersby, saying he was tired from training, high on painkillers after getting his wisdom teeth out, or perhaps very drunk. They made it into the apartment with little to no event with Yuri clinging to Otabek’s arm for dear life and staring blankly to the left of him.

“Lie down, kitten, I’ll start dinner. You need to rest.” Otabek wiggled out of Yuri’s hold, pausing to see how he’d react. But Yuri stayed completely still, his arms still curled up right where they were. “Yuri, go take a nap… Do you want some help?” Otabek warily paced back into the living room where Yuri hadn’t moved at all, still holding onto an arm that wasn’t there. “Yura, what’s wrong?” He’d done so well on the walk home. Brows furrowed, Otabek manually maneuvered Yuri’s arms to his sides. He was barely breathing, leaning back on his heels. His abdominal muscles were active, holding him in an uncomfortable slope. Otabek called his name over and over, each more desperate than the last. Then he was lightly shaking Yuri’s shoulders for any kind of reaction. “Yuri please… Please God, just stay with me. Did I lose you again? I thought you were coming back.” Nothing. Not even a blink. Otabek swallowed thickly. “You need to lie down, Yuri. Let’s go lie down.”

Yuri’s lips twitched, “L… Lie… lie down,” he mimicked, giving Otabek a false sense of hope.

“Yes, yes, c’mon let’s lie down. You don’t need to be standing up–”

“Up…” Yuri repeated robotically, mouth running on autopilot. Otabek looked into his eyes. There was nothing there.

“Oh god.” He held onto Yuri’s hands in his. When he moved his right to touch Yuri’s face, he found that Yuri’s arm stayed right in place. Otabek let him go entirely and he maintained his position. “Fuck,” he whispered, “Jesus, Yuri…”

When Yuri replied with his own name, not even realizing what it meant, Otabek had to steel himself and lead Yuri into his room and into bed, all while letting Yuri wring his hand out like a dirty towel. At least it wasn’t a bird or a lemming. With Yuri safely tucked under a weighted blanket, Otabek thought he’d sit and wait for Yuri to fall asleep. He remembered that Yuri’s eyes wouldn’t close until he came out of this after almost six minutes of silence.

“Yura,” Otabek whispered, futilely trying to reach him somehow, “please come back…” He let out a trembling sigh. “I need you, Yuri, please… Please, Yuri.” He sniffed. “Yura, I’m scared. I need you… Yurochka Plisetsky, twenty years old, the love of my life…” His eyes filled with unshed tears. He bit them back with his teeth on his tongue. “I need you, Yuri. I need you to make me strong for you. I need you to tell me you’ll be okay. I need to you kiss me and promise me you’ll be okay…” Otabek watched Yuri’s face for anything that might be a reaction. He waited for a long time.

“Kiss me…” Yuri eventually parroted, “Okay… Yuri… Up… Kiss me.”

Otabek watched the stars come out on the balcony. He didn’t make dinner. After the third hour into Yuri’s nap passed, Otabek gave up on eating for the night. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there and cried until he couldn’t anymore. He felt a little better, less tense, definitely exhausted. He debated crawling into bed for the night, but he couldn’t bear to see the glassy look in Yuri’s eyes. If it hasn’t gone away by now, he’d have to take Yuri back to the hospital. Otabek told himself he’d check in ten minutes, then ten minutes would pass and he’d repeat his promise. It was dark out now, the air was frosty. Maybe he’d spend the night outside.

“Oh there you are,” a familiar voice chimed. The sliding doors opened and shut. “Did I see strawberries on the counter?” Yuri asked with a hopeful sparkle in his eyes. He looked out into the city, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Fuck, it’s cold as balls out here, what’re you doing?” Otabek shrugged, hiding his face in the shadows so Yuri couldn’t see the stains streaking his cheeks. “What time is it?” Yuri questioned regarding the darkness of the sky.

“Late,” Otabek replied simply. “You should be in bed.”

“But–” Yuri started to protest but cut himself off with a gasp. Otabek readied himself, feeling his eyes strain to produce more tears, but Yuri didn’t seem the least bit grim. “Have you been waiting for me to wake up this whole time?” he pulled a long face, having seen the strawberries and putting two and two together. Otabek sighed.   

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted truthfully, his face turned red. “I knew today was going to be hard on you so I wanted to do something fun when you got home. I wanted us to make pirozhki together...”

“Oh my god,” Yuri groaned, “that’s so… you’re unbearably sweet, you know that? Jeez, I think all my teeth just fell out.” Yuri scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling guilty and a little embarrassed at how openly romantic the idea was. “I kept you waiting for hours. You’re out here– How long have you been out here?”

“It’s no big–”

“I’m so sorry, God, how disappointing. I was just so tired after training. I was out like a light–”

“Yura.” Something in his tone made Yuri stop in his tracks. Otabek tentatively drew near, almost seeming scared to touch him for a split second, and buried his hands in Yuri’s hair. Yuri loosely gripped at his wrists and sighed when their foreheads touched. The smell of winter, cigarette smoke, and Otabek’s skin filled his head and relaxed him. “I’m in love with you,” Otabek breathed, “I love you more than anything. Anything, Yura.” It took Yuri a second to recover, struck speechless for a long moment.

“I love you, too,” he whispered weakly, “kiss me.”

Otabek offered a gentle kiss, barely brushing Yuri’s lips and sending a shock up his spine. He tried to stay with it, even attempted to deepen it by glancing his tongue off of Yuri’s top lip, but his chest clenched and a fresh flow of tears stained his cheeks. Shoulders sagging, Otabek held both of Yuri’s hands and sobbed into his lap.

“I did this to you,” he admitted between breaths. “You never would’ve ended up this way if it wasn’t for me.” Yuri shook his head, lost and worried as to where this was coming from. “If I didn’t abandon you. If you weren’t assaulted so young. If you didn’t hit your head. You– You wouldn’t be like this. It’s all my fault.” Otabek cried himself out in silence. Yuri couldn’t speak if he wanted to.

[thefortyeightlawsofpower-blog]

LAW # 19 : KNOW WHO YOU’RE DEALING WITH—DO NOT OFFEND THE WRONG PERSON

JUDGEMENT

There are many different kinds of people in the world, and you can never assume that everyone will react to your strategies in the same way. Deceive or outmaneuver some people and they will spend the rest of their lives seeking revenge. They are wolves in lambs’ clothing. Choose your victims and opponents carefully, then—never of fend or deceive the wrong person.

OPPONENTS, SUCKERS, AND VICTIMS: Preliminary Typology In your rise to power you will come across many breeds of opponent, sucker, and victim. The highest form of the art of power is the ability to distinguish the wolves from the lambs, the foxes from the hares, the hawks from the vultures. If you make this distinction well, you will succeed without needing to coerce anyone too much. But if you deal blindly with whomever crosses your path, you will have a life of constant sorrow, if you even live that long. Being able to recognize types of people, and to act accordingly, is critical. The following are the five most dangerous and difficult types of mark in the jungle, as identified by artists—con and otherwise—of the past.

When you meet a swordsman, draw your sword: Do not recite poetry to one who is not a poet.

FROM A CH’AN BUDDHIST CLASSIC, QUOTED IN THUNDER IN THE SKY, TRANSLATED BY THOMAS CLEARY, 1993

The Arrogant and Proud Man. Although he may initially disguise it, this man’s touchy pride makes him very dangerous. Any perceived slight will lead to a vengeance of overwhelming violence. You may say to yourself, “But I only said such-and-such at a party, where everyone was drunk....” It does not matter. There is no sanity behind his overreaction, so do not waste time trying to figure him out. If at any point in your dealings with a person you sense an oversensitive and overactive pride, flee. Whatever you are hoping for from him isn’t worth it.

THE REVENGE OF LOPE. DE AGUIRRE

[Lope de] Aguirre’s character is amply illustrated in an anecdote from the chronicle of Garcilaso de la Vega, who related that in 1548 Aguirre was a member of a platoon of soldiers escorting Indian slaves from the mines at Potosi [Bolivia] to a royal treasury depot. The Indians were illegally burdened with great quantities of silver, and a local official arrested Aguirre, sentencing him to receive two hundred lashes in lieu of a fine for oppressing the Indians. “The soldier Aguirre, having received a notification of the sentence, besought the alcalde that, instead of flogging him, he would put him to death, for that he was a gentleman by birth.... All this had no effect on the alcalde, who ordered the executioner to bring a beast, and execute the sentence. The executioner came to the prison, and put Aguirre on the beast.... The beast was driven on, and he received the lashes....” When freed, Aguirre announced his intention of killing the official who had sentenced him, the alcalde Esquivel. Esquivel’s term of office expired and he fled to Lima. three hundred twenty leagues away, but within fifteen days Aguirre had tracked him there. The frightened judge journeyed to Quito, a trip of four hundred leagues, and in twenty days Aguirre arrived. “When Esquivel heard of his presence, ” according to Garcilaso, “he made another journey of five hundred leagues to Cuzco; but in a few days Aguirre also arrived, having travelled on foot and without shoes, saying that a whipped man has no business to ride a horse, or to go where he would be seen by others. In this way, Aguirre followed his judge for three years, and four months.” Wearying of the pursuit, Esquivel remained at Cuzco, a city so sternly governed that he felt he would be safe from Aguirre. He took a house near the cathedral and never ventured outdoors without a sword and a dagger. “However, on a certain Monday, at noon, Aguirre entered his house, and having walked all over it, and having traversed a corridor, a saloon, a chamber, and an inner chamber where the judge kept his books, he at last found him asleep over one of his books, and stabbed him to death. The murderer then went out, but when he came to the door of the house, he found that he had forgotten his hat, and had the temerity to return and fetch it, and then walked down the street.”

THE GOLDEN DREAM: SEEKERS OF EL DORADO, WALKER CHAPMAN, 1967

The Hopelessly Insecure Man. This man is related to the proud and arrogant type, but is less violent and harder to spot. His ego is fragile, his sense of self insecure, and if he feels himself deceived or attacked, the hurt will simmer. He will attack you in bites that will take forever to get big enough for you to notice. If you find you have deceived or harmed such a man, disappear for a long time. Do not stay around him or he will nibble you to death.

Mr. Suspicion. Another variant on the breeds above, this is a future Joe Stalin. He sees what he wants to see—usually the worst—in other people, and imagines that everyone is after him. Mr. Suspicion is in fact the least dangerous of the three: Genuinely unbalanced, he is easy to deceive, just as Stalin himself was constantly deceived. Play on his suspicious nature to get him to turn against other people. But if you do become the target of his suspicions, watch out.

The Serpent with a Long Memory. If hurt or deceived, this man will show no anger on the surface; he will calculate and wait. Then, when he is in a position to turn the tables, he will exact a revenge marked by a cold-blooded shrewdness. Recognize this man by his calculation and cunning in the different areas of his life. He is usually cold and unaffectionate. Be doubly careful of this snake, and if you have somehow injured him, either crush him completely or get him out of your sight.

The Plain, Unassuming, and Often Unintelligent Man. Ah, your ears prick up when you find such a tempting victim. But this man is a lot harder to deceive than you imagine. Falling for a ruse often takes intelligence and imagination—a sense of the possible rewards. The blunt man will not take the bait because he does not recognize it. He is that unaware. The danger with this man is not that he will harm you or seek revenge, but merely that he will waste your time, energy, resources, and even your sanity in trying to deceive him. Have a test ready for a mark—a joke, a story. If his reaction is utterly literal, this is the type you are dealing with. Continue at your own risk.

TRANSGRESSIONS OF THE LAW

Transgression I

In the early part of the thirteenth century, Muhammad, the shah of Khwarezm, managed after many wars to forge a huge empire, extending west to present-day Turkey and south to Afghanistan. The empire’s center was the great Asian capital of Samarkand. The shah had a powerful, well-trained army, and could mobilize 200,000 warriors within days.

In 1219 Muhammad received an embassy from a new tribal leader to the east, Genghis Khan. The embassy included all sorts of gifts to the great Muhammad, representing the finest goods from Khan’s small but growing Mongol empire. Genghis Khan wanted to reopen the Silk Route to Europe, and offered to share it with Muhammad, while promising peace between the two empires.

Muhammad did not know this upstart from the east, who, it seemed to him, was extremely arrogant to try to talk as an equal to one so clearly his superior. He ignored Khan’s offer. Khan tried again: This time he sent a caravan of a hundred camels filled with the rarest articles he had plundered from China. Before the caravan reached Muhammad, however, Inalchik, the governor of a region bordering on Samarkand, seized it for himself, and executed its leaders.

Genghis Khan was sure that this was a mistake—that Inalchik had acted without Muhammad’s approval. He sent yet another mission to Muhammad, reiterating his offer and asking that the governor be punished. This time Muhammad himself had one of the ambassadors beheaded, and sent the other two back with shaved heads—a horrifying insult in the Mongol code of honor. Khan sent a message to the shah: “You have chosen war. What will happen will happen, and what it is to be we know not; only God knows.” Mobilizing his forces, in 1220 he attacked Inalchik’s province, where he seized the capital, captured the governor, and ordered him executed by having molten silver poured into his eyes and ears.

Over the next year, Khan led a series of guerrilla-like campaigns against the shah’s much larger army. His method was totally novel for the time—his soldiers could move very fast on horseback, and had mastered the art of firing with bow and arrow while mounted. The speed and flexibility of his forces allowed him to deceive Muhammad as to his intentions and the directions of his movements. Eventually he managed first to surround Samarkand, then to seize it. Muhammad fled, and a year later died, his vast empire broken and destroyed. Genghis Khan was sole master of Samarkand, the Silk Route, and most of northern Asia.

Interpretation

Never assume that the person you are dealing with is weaker or less important than you are. Some men are slow to take offense, which may make you misjudge the thickness of their skin, and fail to worry about insulting them. But should you offend their honor and their pride, they will overwhelm you with a violence that seems sudden and extreme given their slowness to anger. If you want to turn people down, it is best to do so politely and respectfully, even if you feel their request is impudent or their offer ridiculous. Never reject them with an insult until you know them better; you may be dealing with a Genghis Khan.

THE CROW AND THE SHEEP

A troublesome Crow seated herself on the back of a Sheep. The Sheep, much against his will, carried her backward and forward for a long time, and at last said, “If you had treated a dog in this way, you would have had your deserts from his sharp teeth.”To this the Crow replied, “I despise the weak, and yield to the strong. I know whom I may bully, and whom I must flatter; and thus I hope to prolong my life to a good old age.

FABLES, AESOP, SIXTH CENTURY B.C.

Transgression II

In the late 1910s some of the best swindlers in America formed a con-artist ring based in Denver, Colorado. In the winter months they would spread across the southern states, plying their trade. In 1920 Joe Furey, a leader of the ring, was working his way through Texas, making hundreds of thousands of dollars with classic con games. In Fort Worth, he met a sucker named J. Frank Norfleet, a cattleman who owned a large ranch. Norfleet fell for the con. Convinced of the riches to come, he emptied his bank account of $45,000 and handed it over to Furey and his confederates. A few days later they gave him his “millions,” which turned out to be a few good dollars wrapped around a packet of newspaper clippings.

Furey and his men had worked such cons a hundred times before, and the sucker was usually so embarrassed by his gullibility that he quietly learned his lesson and accepted the loss. But Norfleet was not like other suckers. He went to the police, who told him there was little they could do. “Then I’ll go after those people myself,” Norfleet told the detectives. “I’ll get them, too, if it takes the rest of my life.” His wife took over the ranch as Norfleet scoured the country, looking for others who had been fleeced in the same game. One such sucker came forward, and the two men identified one of the con artists in San Francisco, and managed to get him locked up. The man committed suicide rather than face a long term in prison.

Norfleet kept going. He tracked down another of the con artists in Montana, roped him like a calf, and dragged him through the muddy streets to the town jail. He traveled not only across the country but to England, Canada, and Mexico in search of Joe Furey, and also of Furey’s right-hand man, W. B. Spencer. Finding Spencer in Montreal, Norfleet chased him through the streets. Spencer escaped but the rancher stayed on his trail and caught up with him in Salt Lake City. Preferring the mercy of the law to Norfleet’s wrath, Spencer turned himself in.

Norfleet found Furey in Jacksonville, Florida, and personally hauled him off to face justice in Texas. But he wouldn’t stop there: He continued on to Denver, determined to break up the entire ring. Spending not only large sums of money but another year of his life in the pursuit, he managed to put all of the con ring’s leaders behind bars. Even some he didn’t catch had grown so terrified of him that they too turned themselves in.

After five years of hunting, Norfleet had single-handedly destroyed the country’s largest confederation of con artists. The effort bankrupted him and ruined his marriage, but he died a satisfied man.

Interpretation

Most men accept the humiliation of being conned with a sense of resignation. They learn their lesson, recognizing that there is no such thing as a free lunch, and that they have usually been brought down by their own greed for easy money. Some, however, refuse to take their medicine. Instead of reflecting on their own gullibility and avarice, they see themselves as totally innocent victims.

Men like this may seem to be crusaders for justice and honesty, but they are actually immoderately insecure. Being fooled, being conned, has activated their self-doubt, and they are desperate to repair the damage. Were the mortgage on Norfleet’s ranch, the collapse of his marriage, and the years of borrowing money and living in cheap hotels worth his revenge over his embarrassment at being fleeced? To the Norfleets of the world, overcoming their embarrassment is worth any price.

All people have insecurities, and often the best way to deceive a sucker is to play upon his insecurities. But in the realm of power, everything is a question of degree, and the person who is decidedly more insecure than the average mortal presents great dangers. Be warned: If you practice deception or trickery of any sort, study your mark well. Some people’s insecurity and ego fragility cannot tolerate the slightest offense. To see if you are dealing with such a type, test them first—make, say, a mild joke at their expense. A confident person will laugh; an overly insecure one will react as if personally insulted. If you suspect you are dealing with this type, find another victim.

Transgression III

In the fifth century B.C., Ch‘ung-erh, the prince of Ch’in (in present-day China), had been forced into exile. He lived modestly—even, sometimes, in poverty—waiting for the time when he could return home and resume his princely life. Once he was passing through the state of Cheng, where the ruler, not knowing who he was, treated him rudely. The ruler’s minister, Shu Chan, saw this and said, “This man is a worthy prince. May Your Highness treat him with great courtesy and thereby place him under an obligation!” But the ruler, able to see only the prince’s lowly station, ignored this advice and insulted the prince again. Shu Chan again warned his master, saying, “If Your Highness cannot treat Ch’ung-erh with courtesy, you should put him to death, to avoid calamity in the future.” The ruler only scoffed.

Years later, the prince was finally able to return home, his circumstances greatly changed. He did not forget who had been kind to him, and who had been insolent, during his years of poverty. Least of all did he forget his treatment at the hands of the ruler of Cheng. At his first opportunity he assembled a vast army and marched on Cheng, taking eight cities, destroying the kingdom, and sending the ruler into an exile of his own. Interpretation

You can never be sure who you are dealing with. A man who is of little importance and means today can be a person of power tomorrow. We forget a lot in our lives, but we rarely forget an insult.

How was the ruler of Cheng to know that Prince Ch’ung-erh was an ambitious, calculating, cunning type, a serpent with a long memory? There was really no way for him to know, you may say—but since there was no way, it would have been better not to tempt the fates by finding out. There is nothing to be gained by insulting a person unnecessarily. Swallow the impulse to offend, even if the other person seems weak. The satisfaction is meager compared to the danger that someday he or she will be in a position to hurt you.

Transgression IV

The year of 1920 had been a particularly bad one for American art dealers. Big buyers—the robber-baron generation of the previous century—were getting to an age where they were dying off like flies, and no new millionaires had emerged to take their place. Things were so bad that a number of the major dealers decided to pool their resources, an unheard-of event, since art dealers usually get along like cats and dogs.

Joseph Duveen, art dealer to the richest tycoons of America, was suffering more than the others that year, so he decided to go along with this alliance. The group now consisted of the five biggest dealers in the country. Looking around for a new client, they decided that their last best hope was Henry Ford, then the wealthiest man in America. Ford had yet to venture into the art market, and he was such a big target that it made sense for them to work together.

The dealers decided to assemble a list, “The 100 Greatest Paintings in the World” (all of which they happened to have in stock), and to offer the lot of them to Ford. With one purchase he could make himself the world’s greatest collector. The consortium worked for weeks to produce a magnificent object: a three-volume set of books containing beautiful reproductions of the paintings, as well as scholarly texts accompanying each picture. Next they made a personal visit to Ford at his home in Dearborn, Michigan. There they were surprised by the simplicity of his house: Mr. Ford was obviously an extremely unaffected man.

Ford received them in his study. Looking through the book, he expressed astonishment and delight. The excited dealers began imagining the millions of dollars that would shortly flow into their coffers. Finally, however, Ford looked up from the book and said, “Gentlemen, beautiful books like these, with beautiful colored pictures like these, must cost an awful lot!” “But Mr. Ford!” exclaimed Duveen, “we don’t expect you to buy these books. We got them up especially for you, to show you the pictures. These books are a present to you.” Ford seemed puzzled. “Gentlemen,” he said, “it is extremely nice of you, but I really don’t see how I can accept a beautiful, expensive present like this from strangers.” Duveen explained to Ford that the reproductions in the books showed paintings they had hoped to sell to him. Ford finally understood. “But gentlemen,” he exclaimed, “what would I want with the original pictures when the ones right here in these books are so beautiful?”

Interpretation

Joseph Duveen prided himself on studying his victims and clients in advance, figuring out their weaknesses and the peculiarities of their tastes before he ever met them. He was driven by desperation to drop this tactic just once, in his assault on Henry Ford. It took him months to recover from his misjudgment, both mentally and monetarily. Ford was the unassuming plain-man type who just isn’t worth the bother. He was the incarnation of those literal-minded folk who do not possess enough imagination to be deceived. From then on, Duveen saved his energies for the Mellons and Morgans of the world—men crafty enough for him to entrap in his snares.

KEYS TO POWER

The ability to measure people and to know who you’re dealing with is the most important skill of all in gathering and conserving power. Without it you are blind: Not only will you offend the wrong people, you will choose the wrong types to work on, and will think you are flattering people when you are actually insulting them. Before embarking on any move, take the measure of your mark or potential opponent. Otherwise you will waste time and make mistakes. Study people’s weaknesses, the chinks in their armor, their areas of both pride and insecurity. Know their ins and outs before you even decide whether or not to deal with them.

Two final words of caution: First, in judging and measuring your opponent, never rely on your instincts. You will make the greatest mistakes of all if you rely on such inexact indicators. Nothing can substitute for gathering concrete knowledge. Study and spy on your opponent for however long it takes; this will pay off in the long run.

Second, never trust appearances. Anyone with a serpent’s heart can use a show of kindness to cloak it; a person who is blustery on the outside is often really a coward. Learn to see through appearances and their contradictions. Never trust the version that people give of themselves—it is utterly unreliable.

Image: The Hunter. He does not lay the same trap for a wolf as for a fox. He does not set bait where no one will take it. He knows his prey thoroughly, its habits and hideaways, and hunts accordingly.

Authority: Be convinced, that there are no persons so insignificant and inconsiderable, but may, some time or other, have it in their power to be of use to you; which they certainly will not, if you have once shown them contempt. Wrongs are often forgiven, but contempt never is. Our pride remembers it for ever. (Lord Chesterfield, 1694-1773)

REVERSAL

What possible good can come from ignorance about other people? Learn to tell the lions from the lambs or pay the price. Obey this law to its fullest extent; it has no reversal—do not bother looking for one.

[niigoki]

STEVEN UNIVERSE Title: Never Knows Best - Chapter 29 Rated: M Link to Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7848907/chapters/23086146 Link to FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12115868/29/Never-Knows-Best

The news came two days later.

Lapis was watering her cactus on the kitchen balcony when her phone rang, the number unknown. Deep down, before even picking up the phone, she knew what this call was going to be about. Steven was thankfully at home, and after hanging up, Lapis walked over him and just hugged the boy tightly. He was a bit confused at first, but would never deny a hug from anyone, so he let Lapis’ arms encircle his back for a long, long time.

She pulled back after a while and sighed, rubbing her eyes.

Steven didn’t know if there were tears in them, but that didn’t really matter. Lapis looked up at the ceiling and then around the room, as if breathing in the details of the place for the very first time. Then she got up from her kneeling position and smiled down softly at Steven.

“Come have a tour of the house with me.”

The boy returned the smile and grabbed her hand, and they just walked around the place, checking every single room.

There were a few doors that hadn’t ever been opened, so they opened them. They were all just dusty empty rooms without even a lamp to bright it up. Lapis’ carelessness for that place really showed, but she didn’t feel guilty about it. That house had never been a place she’d felt at home.

After meeting Peridot and spending time at the pub and at her house, Lapis finally felt like she belonged somewhere. It was a nice feeling, and she wished she could feel like this every day.

She’d been thinking about that for a while now.

A few moments later the house tour was done, and Lapis excused herself to the garden for a bit. Steven allowed her some space and walked back in, putting on his tiny apron to cook some lunch.

A part of him felt like things were about to change.

It felt like a goodbye of sorts.

---

As for Jasper, she was at the gym, getting back to her training routine. Her new phone buzzed on her back pocket and she stopped the treadmill with ragged breaths. The call was short and simple, and Jasper thanked the person on the other side in a flat voice. She thought about calling Lapis, but reconsidered. Instead, she walked back to her locker and grabbed her things, calling someone else.

“Hey, Bis? It’s me,” Jasper looked at herself in the gym’s bathroom mirror. “Can we hang out? I—” It was weird, calling a friend and asking favors like this. “I need to get my mind off things.”

Bismuth barely let her finish before yelling a ‘I’ll be there in a sec!’ and hanging up. Jasper smiled softly at that and left the gym, heading home.

She needed to take a really long shower and think for a while.

---

The pub was crowded that night, and Lapis managed a smile as soon as she walked in. Something about going back to that place was really refreshing to her, even though there were sweaty bodies everywhere and the booming music didn’t allow for thoughts to venture too far. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked it so much.

Squishing her way to the bar was easy enough, and soon she was settled. She saw Sadie first, and the girl stopped on her tracks to give Lapis a bear hug. The touch lingered for a long time, and Lapis was glad for it. Sadie whispered things like ‘welcome back’ and ‘we missed you’, and Lapis felt her shoulders relaxing and her chest fluttering.

Jenny, Buck and Sour Cream were next. The trio wasn’t drunk this time, and the three of them all but tackled her in a group hug, smiling and laughing contently. Lapis, who was not used to so much genuine affection at once, felt a bit suffocate by all of it, but was truly happy with the gesture. Buck asked her if she was cool, and Lapis had to shake her head with a soft smile.

“Not yet. But I’ll be.” It was the truth, and Buck appreciated her for that. Jenny kissed her cheek fondly and Sour Cream removed his party hat and placed it on Lapis’ head. She giggled and thanked them, waving goodbye and promising to meet them on the dance floor soon.

Her eyes scanned for the one person she wanted to see the most right now, and soon found her.

Tiny, meticulous, quick, fidgety, beautiful.

It still shocked her the amount of love she felt for that girl.

“Hey, stranger.” Lapis reached out for her and Peridot’s eyes immediately started shining.

“Hey!” She bent over for a kiss, instinctively. Lapis caressed her cheek once they were done and Peridot frowned. “Is everything ok?”

Of course she would notice.

“Not really,” Lapis brushed her thumb on Peri’s lips. “But we can talk about that later. Can I crash at your place tonight?”

“Of course,” Peridot nodded and excused herself. “I’ll just deliver this beer. Can I get you anything?”

“A Blue Ha—” Then she stopped. “Actually, get me something green.”

The meaning wasn’t lost in translation and Peridot softened her smile.

She didn’t want to get drunk that night, so the green drink was the only thing in her stomach. After that, she’d ordered some fries and Sadie winked at her as the plate arrived. She saw a piece of paper under the plate and put it on her pocket to read later.

The night went by and Lapis decided to dance for a bit. Moving her body to the sound of music and blinking lights never failed to make her fell light. It was one of the places that she felt she could float; like a mindless soul, not searching for anything, and yet absorbing everything.

Some girls approached her and they danced together. One man smiled so brightly at her that she could sense his happiness on her very core. A person, who didn’t look like either a boy or a girl, grabbed her hand and twirled her around to the sound of the bass. Lapis laughed and looked at them, and they nodded at her with a wink. She loved this – that knowing look exchanged between you and a complete stranger. She didn’t know what they meant by that wink, but she understood, and they did too.

Lapis looked up at the ceiling where the bright lights converged, and smiled softly. She followed one red circle with her eyes for a while and when it vanished, a yellow one appeared instead. It was hypnotizing; Lapis didn’t need alcohol in her system to feel the way she was feeling right now. When a hand sneaked around her shoulders, she looked around to see Amethyst, surprisingly.

“May I have this dance?”

Lapis laughed really hard at that for some reason and grabbed the girl’s hand. The song was really chill at that point and Lapis turned her back to Ame’s front, and the girl hugged her from behind. Their hips moved in sync and Lapis lulled her head back so it could fall on the shorter girl’s shoulder. She felt enveloped by so much love at that moment, a love she never knew could even exist.

For the majority of her life, Lapis thought that you either loved someone or hated someone – you either loved someone enough to fuck them, or hated someone enough to think about every bad thing they did to you 24/7. There was no in between, no platonic love, no friendship; nothing that could compare to what she was feeling with Amethyst at this moment. Lapis finally understood what Ame meant when she said she loved Peridot.

After meeting the bartender and her friends, Lapis learned so many things. Like different types of love a person could feel.

She felt an urgent need to call a certain someone.

Lapis faced Amethyst again. “I’ll be right back.”

“You better be,” Ame poked her playfully and Lapis walked outside.

Her phone told her that it was 3am, but she needed to make this call right now. So she dialed the number. And waited.

It rang once.

Twice.

It didn’t ring the third time.

“Lapis?”

“Jasper,” She thought that her throat would feel dry, that she would be shaking, nervous, anxious. Calling Jasper had always been one of the hardest things in her life, and a chore she tried to avoid as much as possible. So it was shocking to her when she felt her own cheeks widening in a smile. “Thank you.”

“…Huh?” The confused tone was so pure. Lapis grabbed her chest, pulling her shirt and smiling harder.

“Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for looking after me all these years. Thank you for putting up with my shit when I knew I was just making things worse for the both of us, just… thank you, Jasper.”

The silence was brutal, and yet Lapis couldn’t stop smiling.

“Fuck, I wanted to apologize too, but I feel like I already apologized too much. We both have apologized too much, and I’m done with that. I just wanted to call you to say thank you this time,” She blurted the next sentence with a sobbing, breathless laugh. “Thank you for being my big sister.”

More silence followed, and then, finally, an answer came. “Are you drunk?”

Lapis would have been mad if she couldn’t practically hear the smile in her sister’s voice. She knew she was crying, too, because that idiot couldn’t hold a sob for the life of her.

“I’m not, promise.” She leaned her back against the stone wall and cried too. “Are you crying, you big baby?”

“S-shut up, you are too!” Jasper was laughing.

“Yeah,” Lapis rolled her eyes. “I am. Fuck, we’re doing the same exact expression right now, I bet.”

“We are,” Jasper’s voice was raspy, and yet so soft. “That’s kinda messed up, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Malachite just died and here we are, just— laughing and crying on the phone.”

Lapis nodded to no one. She’d been thinking about that ever since the call in the morning. Her mother had just died, and yet she didn’t know what she should feel. She tried to cry, tried to be sad, tried to be upset. But she couldn’t.

So she realized that she didn’t own that woman shit.

“We feel what we feel,” Lapis looked up at the stars. “We don’t need to feel anything for the sake of anyone.”

“And what do we feel?”

She didn’t have to think about that answer. “Free.”

Jasper let out a breathy chuckle and they stood in silence for a while. This was nice, Lapis thought; being in each other’s company without exchanging words. Too many words had been said already, so they just let their emotions talk for now.

“Free,” Jasper spoke up suddenly. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Yeah…” Lapis sighed. “I just wanted to tell you that. I’ll hang up now. Call me if you need anything.”

These words hit Jasper really hard and her eyes watered again. “Okay. Thank you for this. Night, sis.”

“Good night,” She smiled. “Love you.”

Jasper let out a breath. “Love you too.”

Lapis hang up and walked back in.

It was the lightest she had ever, ever felt.

---

Ragged breaths filled the room as hands and tongue finished working and a final high-pitched groan made its way out of a certain bartender’s lips. She crashed on the bed breathing heavily and Lapis crawled back up on her elbows, smiling down at her girlfriend. “You good?”

“Y-yeah…” Peri swallowed in a daze. “Very good.” She turned on her side to press a lazy kiss on Lapis’ elbow, since it was the first thing in reach, and sighed happily.

Lapis grinned and kissed her hairline, then lay down with her as they basked in the afterglow. It was past 7am, Peridot was probably exhausted after work, and yet she didn’t complain one bit after getting home and sensing Lapis’ affectionate touches. Lapis had asked her again and again if she was too tired, if she wanted to sleep, and Peri reassured her every time. She loved this girl so much.

Lapis ran her fingers up and down her girlfriend’s ribs absent-mindedly. “Kay.”

The quietness of the room was nice, and Lapis could see the specs of dust floating on the thin sunlight coming through the window. Her mind started roaming to comfortable places and thoughts, which didn’t happen very often, but that was natural around Peridot.

“What did you want to talk about?” Peri mumbled against the pillow with her eyes closed.

“Hmm?” Lapis frowned a bit, then remembered. “Oh. We can wait till you’ve gotten enough sleep.”

“You can tell me,” Peri’s voice was so soft and calm. “I’m listening. Always listening to you.”

Lapis thought for a bit, but eventually gave in. “Well… Malachite passed away.”

Peri opened her eyes slowly. “Oh… I see.” She wriggled closer, tucking her head under Lapis’ chin. “And how are you?”

“I’m… feeling pretty good.” She wrapped an arm around the tiny bartender and squeezed. “I wasn’t certain on what I should feel. I thought that it was bad to feel happy after someone passed away, but… now I decided that I don’t mind. I’m not happy because she died. I’m just… feeling good because of other things.”

“What things?”

“Well… going back to the pub. Talking to my friends again. Dancing. Seeing you. Kissing you, sleeping with you, cuddling with you. This moment right now feels pretty good. So why shouldn’t I feel happy, you know?”

Peridot nodded with a hum as Lapis’ fingers played with her hair. “I also called Jasper.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I thanked her,” Lapis reminisced her sister’s voice on the phone and smiled. “For taking care of me this whole time even though we made each other’s life hell. I know I’ve been a shitty sister, so I thanked her for being my big sister. She cried, but she was happy. I cried, too.”

Peri smiled against her collarbone. “You called her sister…”

“Yeah…” Lapis blinked and touched her forehead on top of Peri’s head, inhaling her scent. “I did. It doesn’t feel wrong nowadays.”

“I’m so happy for you two…” Her tone was so genuine that Lapis felt like her heart would explode of love.

“I’m happy too.”

They drifted into a deep sleep after that, and Lapis never let go of Peridot.

---

Peridot woke up after her girlfriend, which was a first. Usually Lapis would stay in bed for a long while, so she wondered what time it was. Checking her clock, she saw that it was 3pm, so she yawned and got up as well, stretching her tired body. Peri put on some pants and her alien shirt and brushed her teeth, washing her face afterwards. Exiting her room, she started making her way to the kitchen, then halted. There was strange smell in the air, but it wasn’t a bad one.

Was Lapis… cooking?

“Morning, lazy pants.” Lapis’ voice was cheerful as soon as she spotted the bartender, and Peri tried to make sense of what was happening. Her girlfriend was next to the oven grilling something that smelled really good. Her hair was messy, the TV was on some space documentary and there were two plates on the kitchen table.

“Morning,” Peridot walked up to her and peeked. “What are you doing?”

“Grilled cheese with eggs,” She smiled. “Amethyst left a really sweet note that started with ‘Good morning, my favorite two people in the world’ and ended with ‘Stop fucking in the morning or I swear to god’.”

Peridot blushed, but Lapis just laughed.  “Are you hungry?”

“I am!” The bartender sat down on the table, allowing her girlfriend to continue cooking.

“They’ll be done in a minute.” Lapis turned around and bent over to kiss her. “Let me spoil you today.”

“Not going to say no to that,” Peri smiled dumbly and kept her eyes glued to Lapis’ back.

The whole situation was so nice and domestic that Peridot felt her stomach fluttering. Her brain started creating all of these scenarios and planning for the future out of nowhere, and all of them included waking up next to Lapis everyday and doing pointless couple-y things like this. The blue-haired girl looked so happy and high-spirited at that moment in time. It was like watching the sun coming up after a really long night. It was breathtaking.

They had late-brunch together and then moved to the living room to watch a bit of TV. Lapis had created a legitimate interest in space documentaries and was learning more and more each day. Peridot told her that they could visit the planetarium someday, and Lapis’ eyes widened like a puppy ready to go for a walk.

After the show was over, Lapis excused herself to make a call. Peridot didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it wasn’t like Lapis was hiding. She called Steven and told him not to wait for her, but reassured the boy that she was okay and feeling very well. Apparently satisfied with her cheerful voice, Steven hang up, and Lapis dropped back down in the couch.

Peridot told her that she needed to buy some groceries in the supermarket, and asked if she wanted to come along. Lapis didn’t even think twice and nodded happily. So they went out, picking fresh vegetables and frozen food for Peri’s home, and Lapis had to constantly remind herself that she wasn’t living with her.

“I think Steven will like these…” She mumbled, putting some cookies on the cart. Peridot was about to grab her wallet when Lapis stopped her.

“Let me,” She took her credit card out of her pocket.

“What? No, it’s okay!”

“I’ll spoil you today, remember?” Lapis wouldn’t take no for an answer and paid for Peridot’s products.

“Thank you…” Peri blushed. “Only if I get to spoil you next time, though!”

“Deal.”

They walked back home, holding hands and plastic bags, and the evening sky was beautiful. The streetlights were starting to glow, some birds flew away taking the fresh wind with them, and people passed by them walking their dogs.

Everything was so perfect.

Lapis’ life right now, was perfect.

---

“So, can this be considered a date?” Amethyst asked with a smirk as both sat down at their restaurant table for two.

“Depends,” Pearl answered placing a napkin on her lap. “On what’s going to happen at the end of this night.”

“Oh, is that so?” Ame’s heart leaped a beat and she loved the thrill those words gave her. “Guess we’ll see, then.”

The two co-workers had arranged this sort of fancy dinner date so they could, as Pearl said, ‘see where this goes’. They had yet to kiss, but at least her boss knew the extent of Amethyst’s feelings for her. She had a crush and wanted a kiss, and maybe more if the mood was right. Right now, though, it was just really nice to spend time alone with Pearl like this.

“Have you been here before?” Amethyst asked taking a look at the menu. The dishes were more expensive than she thought, but also looked extremely appetizing.

“Just once with Garnet. They have a really good pasta selection.”

“Neat, I could go for some spaghetti,” Ame put the menu down and waited for Pearl to pick a plate. In the meantime, she wanted to ask something that’d been bugging her for a while. “Can I make a blunt question?”

“Go ahead.”

“You and Garnet… were you ever a thing?”

Pearl nearly dropped her menu and waved her hand negatively. “N-no, no, no, no, not ever! We’re just really good friends.”

“Oh, okay. I was just curious, is all.” Amethyst was intrigued by the hasty answer, but decided to drop it.

After choosing their dishes, the waitress noted them down and left. Amethyst then started talking about various pointless topics with her boss, and was met with equally pointless answers that didn’t demand further explanations. She found out many things about Pearl that she found endearing; like the fact that she really liked puzzles, knitting, and had a pet cat named Lion. Other things included her favorite artist, musician, and current series she was obsessed with.

“Never watched that one, but they say it’s really good.” Amethyst said with a grin.

“Oh, it’s phenomenal!” Their plates arrived at that point and they thanked the waitress. “Thank you— the themes of the show are so intriguing and it really makes you think, you know? Also, the actress who plays the protagonist is incredible…”

As she rattled on, Amethyst regarded her with fondness. The spaghetti was good, but nothing compared to the glint in Pearl’s eyes as she talked about something she liked. It was that raw passion in the artist that had attracted Amethyst so much, from day one. She remembered the way Pearl described her shop and its history when they first met, and it was right there that Ame was struck by Cupid’s arrow, as she put it. Of course, her looks weren’t to be ignored either.

Pearl was just so pretty.

“We should watch it together sometime.” Amethyst told her after a while.

“Oh, are you sure? I already watched most of the episodes.”

“Even better! You can explain me the hard stuff. I like watching series with experts.”

“I’m hardly an expert,” Pearl chuckled. “Just another fan.”

“Don’t belittle yourself, you already know a lot more than I do.”

Pearl was about to argue, but realized that the girl was paying her a compliment. “Alright, Miss Smarty-pants.”

“I could be Miss Smarty-no-pants.” Ame winked at her suggestively, and for once Pearl wasn’t caught by surprise.

“Keep playing your cards right and you could be.”

This time it was Ame’s fork that nearly dropped. This whole exchange was exciting and pretty hot, but Amethyst felt like something was off. Still, she decided to keep playing along as the night went by, and was met with many nice surprises along the way.

It was like Pearl was a whole other person suddenly.

---

Amethyst didn’t know exactly when things shifted from casual to this, but the taste of Pearl’s tongue in her mouth was stopping her from thinking clearly. The taller woman parted for a second to close the door behind them, but soon pressed Ame against the wall again, ravishing her mouth like crazy. And sure, usually her dates would end with a goodnight kiss and an invitation to come in, but she knew Pearl better than this.

“W-wait,” Amethyst pushed her gently by the shoulders.

“What?” Pearl asked, breathless. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Fuck yes, but— something is weird.” Looking at Pearl right in the eyes, Amethyst placed a hand on her cheek. “Is this what you want?”

Pearl avoided her intense stare and looked away. “I’m the one kissing you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but… it feels… forced…?” Ame didn’t want to offend her, so she tried to choose her words carefully. “I’m not saying I’m not enjoying it, I really am, and if I’m full of shit then please tell me to shut up, it’s just that…”

“That what?” Pearl looked mad suddenly, and Amethyst flinched.

“It feels like you’re trying to be something you’re not for my sake. That’s all.”

The way Amethyst said that, seriously and concerned, caught Pearl off balance. She opened her mouth once, then twice, but ultimately closed it and sighed, getting off of the shorter girl. Pearl moved to sit down on her couch, feeling defeated.

“…I’m sorry. You’re right, I don’t usually do… this.”

Ame moved to get comfortable next to her and placed a hand on the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles.

“I haven’t had a relationship since… well, ever. I’ve only ever had eyes for Rose, and when she passed away I never felt like pursuing anything. You’re the first person who actually showed genuine interest in me.”

“Bullshit,” The word was blurted out of reflex and Ame bit her tongue. “I m-mean, look at you! You’re trying to tell me no one ever tried to ask you out?”

“A few strangers in bars, sure, but that’s all they were. Strangers.” Pearl fidgeted with her knees. “With you I have at least some sort of connection. We’ve talked, shared our interests. Hell, we even slept in the same bed and know the same people. I feel… comfortable around you.”

Amethyst nodded.

“But you’re so… much more experienced than I am. I felt intimidated. You’ve slept and kissed so many people, and never fell in love with any of them, while I just fell madly in love with one and nothing ever came out of it. I thought that… I wouldn’t be enough for you.” Pearl laughed weakly. “I didn’t want you to lose interest in me. So, I tried to be… wild, if you will.”

Not a word was exchanged for a while, then Amethyst got up and stood right in front of Pearl. She put a finger under her chin and tilted her head upwards, so their eyes could meet.

“I’m not experienced with love, either. You’re way ahead of me in this regard. And I’m never going to expect anything from you, Pearl. I didn’t get a huge crush on you because of some weird projection of you I made up in my mind,” She smiled, cupping the woman’s cheek. “I like you because you’re… you. Passionate, diligent, honest, a tad awkward and a bit of a nerd.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, puzzles and knitting? That’s adorable.”

“They are exercises for the mind!” Pearl blushed.

“My point exactly,” Amethyst giggled. “And I love that about you. And yeah, the fact that we do have a connection makes everything a lot scarier for me. But… I want to try.”

Pearl blinked, confused. “Try?”

This time Amethyst blushed. “Y-yeah, like… doing this. Um, hanging out more. Going to more dates, just the two of us, maybe? Then kissing for a bit? But really kissing, not just forcing a kiss you’re not ready for. If you want to, of course.”

It took her a while, but Pearl slowly frowned. “Amethyst, are you… asking me out?”

Ame froze. “Um… maybe?” Then she slapped herself. “No, fuck that. Yes, I am. Pearl, do you wanna date?”

“Exclusively?”

“Uh— s-sure. Just… you and me.”

“Like girlf—”

“Okay, don’t say the G word! Just— yes or no, before I freak.”

It took her a moment, but in the end Pearl smiled fondly and felt her chest about to burst. “I’d love to.”

Amethyst took a deep breath and nodded, trying really hard to process what she just did. And she was about to fall face first on the floor when Pearl cupped her cheek this time and got closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“You want to?”

“I really want to,” She whispered against Amethyst’s lips and finally, finally pressed their mouths together. This time it was gentle and sweet, and every single doubt that was clouding Amethyst’s mind vanished, and a very unfamiliar feeling in her chest replaced them.

For the first time, Ame wanted to kiss a specific pair of lips a lot more than just once.

[jmdrd]

The National - 10/12/2019 - Motorpoint Arena, Nottingham

This is the Nottingham story. This is when I decided I wanted to share my adventures with anyone who’s willing to give them a read. I am happy and grateful to talk about this one because it showed once again the power that music has to dissolve all separation in front of us.

It all began in September of 2019, as I was deciding on the first gigs that I would go to as my new London life began. I came upon The National’s announcement for their UK tour leg backing up their newest album I Am Easy To Find (2019). At this point, I’d seen them twice: December 2017 at the Civic Opera House in Chicago and in April 2019 at the Beacon Theatre in NYC. Twice had I flown to another country to see my favorite band. Twice I had been blown away. I smiled and thought, A third one does not seem far away. I noticed that the band did not plan on playing a London show during this leg. A few cities that I had never heard of were on the list, and then I noticed Brighton! Leo studies in Brighton, I’ll go to the gig and crash on his floor, a very simple plan. It started to look like I wasn’t going to need to travel an excruciating long distance to see the native clevenlanders. I didn’t buy my tickets then, it seemed too early to purchase them. I did not have the money yet plus, there were plenty tickets left and only a couple of dates were sold out. I knew I was going to be able to go. Brighton is not a big town, not a lot of people will go, I stupidly thought.

Months passed, winter term at Goldsmiths happened, and the last week of November was upon us all. This meant two things: Winter break and The National. To my surprise, all tickets for Brighton were sold out. Sadness started to crawl inside me, I was so excited to belt “Oblivions” alongside Matt Beringer, the Dessner twins and the Devendorf siblings. But it seemed like this was not going to happen, not in the next few days at least. “I have to see them,” I whispered under a big sigh. “Think of something, dude,” I told myself a few times. Then it came to me, travel a little further. I had done it before, why not cross city lines one more time to get to a gig? My research began, what city is the closest to London and has tickets for The National on the second week of December? The contenders were Leeds and Nottingham; Leeds I’d heard of, given that a friend is from there. Nottingham was a mystery, but it was quicker to get there. It was decided then, Nottingham it is! Planning for this gig was simple, but as I bought my train tickets I realized I had to get to a class on Wednesday after the Tuesday night gig. I can get from London to Nottingham, vise versa, in an hour and a half. So I’ll make it to my class. The only problem was that the last train to London left at 11:15 PM and there was no way I was making it if I wanted to stay for the whole show. The only solution to this was taking the first train scheduled at 5:00 AM on Wednesday morning. Which gave me sufficient time to get to my last radio class at 9:00 AM.

Weirdly, the week before the show transport decided to be my enemy. A flight I had a weekend prior to it was cancelled, a few Underground rides went longer than expected, and the train on my way to Nottingham broke-down. I found myself stranded in the middle of yet another unknown place: Leicester. As I stood in the cold-rainy platform I called my mom to let her know what was going on (for obvious purposes this conversation has been roughly translated from Spanish). 

-“Hey! I’m stranded in Leicester. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to the show, the train stopped working and it is not going to let any other trains through.”

-“What?! No way, I can’t believe it!” She said sadly.

-“Yup, I’m going to ask around to see if I can figure something out. Maybe I can take a bus to Nottingham.” I scratched my head a bit and let out a big sigh.

-“Okay, please let me know! You’ll make it, I know you will.” With a soft tone she calmed me down.

-“Will do, ¡te quiero mucho!” I quickly replied.

-“¡Yo también!”

I hung up and started walking towards a lady wearing a bright yellow vest. She was telling some other people that the train we were on was not going to move in a while. She had no idea what we could do, or how we could get to where we were going. Google Maps said I could take a bus that was leaving in ten minutes, but walking to the stop was going to take me fifteen. I thought about running, but noticed that another train bound to Nottingham was going to arrive in twenty minutes on a different platform. I asked a staff worker if that was real, and as he smiled he said “I believe so, it is supposed to get here soon!” Once more, everything was going to be alright. I wasn’t going to be in the front row anymore, nevertheless, I was going to be inside the Motorpoint Arena. 

As I chewed on a Reese’s peanut butter chocolate and caramel crunchy-bar, the train arrived. “This is it!” I thought. One trouble less for the rest of the ride. I forgot to mention this earlier, but I had an important theory essay due on Thursday morning. Because my radio class goes on until late in the afternoon I was not going to have much time to write after it if I wanted to sleep. I decided to get working on it on my way to this midland city; I had a good flow going on in the first train, but the mechanical failure threw me off. I decided to wait until after the show to worry about this. Very simple decision because I was going to have to wait for around six hours for the train back home. 

Fast forward a little, I’m inside the arena a few feet from the stage (I was standing in the sixth row). Chatter filled the room as I stood wearing a black hat, some rain-wet jeans and a blue Miller Lite t-shirt as I held on to a poster and my backpack. Unknown faces all around me were excitedly talking about their expectations for the show. I was ready and could not wait any longer; I felt happy I had to travel once more to see my favorite band.

The lights dimmed and a bright pink dressed Jenny Lewis came into the stage to deliver a mellow and solid performance. The guitar solos were rich, her voice was soothing and hypnotizing, the percussion simple and crisp. Smoke and dust danced around to a purple background as I rhythmically moved my head side to side. What a nice warmup, I thought as Lewis and her band walked off stage. Now, the longest part of the night came: the half hour were the roadies set up everything to perfection. A few scattered shouts (mined included) echoed in the arena as a guitar chord was struck to make sure it was on tune. Lights dimmed once more, I smiled. I could not stop smiling. The band began playing “Rylan”, one of the new tracks. A loud snare drum performed by a flawless Bryan Devendorf backed Matt’s baritone voice as it was being whispered into the microphone: “Rylan you should try and get some sun / You remind me of everyone.” The melancholic lyrics that have been crafted to adorn the experimental rock sound don’t seem so sad anymore. A warm nostalgia filled up the room. Once again, I’m sure that any trouble is worth this. Suddenly, I froze as Matt pointed at me asking if I had been at the Nottingham gig a couple of years ago. I was not able to speak, I didn’t know how to tell him it wasn’t me. “Come on, raise your hand! It is you,” he chuckled as “Day I Die” started playing. I couldn’t believe I had half an interaction with the person who’s written the songs that have soundtracked my life for the past four years. I thought it was funny how he confused me given the fact that I had only been in the country for three months. The show continued and the first song I ever heard by them began: “Fake Empire”. A rich piano played by Aaron Dessner sounded at the top of the first words, “stay out super late tonight / picking apples, making pie”, and a few seconds later the snare once again covering the noise of a faint guitar riff being played by Bryce Dessner. As Scott Devendor jammed through the baseline the signature trumpets started vibrating through the monitors. Absolute chaos and then silence. A roar of claps came in a few seconds after. “Woooo! Yes, yes yes!” I yelled. “Thank you,” Matt whispered as the rest of the band made hand signals. It was time for the fake exit before the encore. The night ended with an unplugged version of “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks” on a white-lighted stage. After tears were shed, yelling performed and lyrics recited, I proudly messed up the choir to the last song in the exact moment when everyone went quiet. I laughed along with a few other strangers. No better way to end a night. 

The hours before my train arrived were mostly spent in a loud McDonald’s filled with drunk students as I wrote my essay. In the attempt of finding a quieter place to write at two in the morning I decided to venture out into the windy streets. I decided to walk towards the train station, but after a few minutes of going in the wrong direction my phone died. I was officially lost. I tried finding my way back to McDonald’s without success until I found a local guy walking quickly with his headphones on. I asked him where the train station was and he pointed to the left. I walked for a little bit more and made it. Yes, I made it to a cold empty building with no tables and no power outlets. Off I went again looking for my oasis; luckily, Christmas was near and a huge adorned tree sat in the middle of Nottingham’s central square. Just like the wise men, pirates and many others before me, I used the star to find my way back to another McDonald’s. I sat there writing, reading and charging my phone as people looked at me weird from time to time. An hour before my train departed I got kicked out because I didn't purchase anything. I politely made my way back to the station, took the train back home, showered, crushed my radio class and finished the essay. 

Would I do this again? Yes, without question. Music has been the fuel to many successful adventures for me and many others. According to the UK’s Live Music Census conducted in 2017, about 10.9 million people traveled inside the union for music-ing purposes and a total 809,000 people came from overseas for the same reason. In times when we are constantly reminded by bigger powers that division is our best bet, music comes in and proves them wrong again, again, and again. This gig taught me that no matter who you are, there will always be a home for people that want togetherness. For people that want barriers to be abolished. Music has sparked rebellions for centuries and it will not stop. Let’s sing, dance and yell! Share a song, go to a concert, travel to a new town and listen to a local band. Anew, let's utilize music as our ally as we tear every single wall down.