#why does one of the prettiest men in town have to be such a piece of shit as a person

[wingwaver]

"have you ever seen a man so beautiful you cried" yes I have but only because his beauty is outward while his inside is a a rude, homophobic, transphobic, republican

[princessleechan]

"You're the Man" Profiles #1

Masterlist

⚽synopsis: After your university cut your soccer team to prioritize the men’s team, it’s natural you have a falling out with your then soccer-star-player boyfriend and impersonate your twin brother at the rival university to play on their men’s team. Wait, it’s not? Oh well.

⚽pairing: afab!reader x ot13 (??? Member)

⚽genre: humor, romance, crack, eventual smut

⚽series tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, tags will vary per chapter

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @salmisu @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @kotarousproperty @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @mxnhoeuwu @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @softycheol @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @xyren1 @thomawifey

Y/n (reader): Sporty soccer babe with a shitty boyfriend (now ex) that finds supporting their soccer career as productive as watching paint dry. So, their take on revenge is joining the rival soccer team to prove only to him, but yourself, and any misogynist piece of shit that men aren’t the only guys that can play soccer like Beckham. You just needed an in on this team, a cover to join. Luckily, you had one numbnut brother who couldn’t care less about being around on his college campus and just so happens to be getting out of town.

Yeonam: Twin brother of Y/n. Uncannily similar looking to his sibling. Same height, similar build (besides the obvious breasts), but could not be more different from them. While you are the athlete, he’s the musician and typical rebel child with big dreams and a one-way ticket to Japan to perform with his rock band. He just needs someone to cover him while he does that.

Seokmin : ex-boyfriend to our main character. Plays soccer like a champion besides that one time that rival player hit his balls so hard with the soccer ball it made him cry and pee in pain for a month. Thinks he loves his then partner, but not enough to respect them as a fellow athlete or human being. Needs to be put in his place to learn the world does not revolve around him.

Mingyu: striker/center forward of his soccer team. Knows his way around a ball but not his way around his feelings for a pretty girl with eyes that sparkle like the night sky. Although he’s super conventionally attractive and sculpted like a motherfucking statue in a museum, he remains a humble and all round nice guy. He is confused though about why his new roommate looks like someone who belongs in anywhere but a soccer field.

Melli: Yeonam’s girlfriend and debutant, prettiest poison you’ve ever seen.  She’s as pretty as she is nasty. Someone who thinks things should come easy to her and has never been told no in her life. Yeonam may be her boyfriend but that doesn’t mean she’ll change her attitude around you, even if you’re his twin. She has a way of getting what wants and nothing is too big getting in her way. She’ll grind it under her feet into sand.

Chae: Local campus cutie that’s confident in who she is and sees something in our main character. Something different about him, how sweet he is, how unlike the other guys he is. There’s a gentle masculinity she can’t comprehend and has to know–no, has to have. She must have this man, but why doesn’t he want her like everyone else? She knows she’s pretty enough, she knows she’s smart enough, she knows she's desirable enough. What will it take to have his attention?

[dreamwritesimagines]

Untouchable 3- Dark Alleys, Cold Times [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your feedback my loves, please keep it coming! <3

The previous chapters are on my masterlist<3

Summary: It’s not easy to be cold.

Characters: Reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2296

Warnings: Mentions of sex work, explicit language, 1940s.

You had no idea how exactly you had got here, but there was no way you were complaining. Bucky smiled at you softly as he brushed your hair off your face and you tightened your legs around his waist, giggling excitedly.

“Keep going like that and we’re not going out the whole day, darlin’.” His voice caresses your ears and you arched a brow.

“Who says I want to, Sergeant Barnes?” you dared him, making him grin at you,

“The next time you call me Sergeant Barnes, I’m keeping the uniform on.”

“Do it, do it,” you sang, and squealed when he buried his nose into your neck.

“Have I finally melted the ice off the ice queen then?” he muttered, making you poke at his side,

“You’re terrible.”

“You know that’s true…” he trailed off, then pressed a kiss on your neck before pulling back, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at his eyes-

“Y/N!” someone knocked on the door and your eyes snapped open, the noise pulling you from the beautiful dream and you groaned in frustration, grabbing the covers to pull them over your body.

“Yes?” you called out and Nancy peeked her head in,

“Why are you still asleep?��

“I was tired,” you said, rubbing your eyes, “What happened?”

“Shirley refuses to leave the bed.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t say. She just says that she’s heartbroken.”

You frowned, then grabbed your dressing gown off the chair, put it on, and followed her out of your room to Shirley’s.

“Shirley?” you knocked on the door and opened it as Nancy heaved a sigh and walked away. “Sweetheart what happened?”

“I’m heartbroken.” She said from her bed and you closed the door behind you, and crossed your arms.

“What happened now?”

“David- do you remember David?”

“The blonde fella?”

“Yeah. Apparently he’s getting married!”

You closed your eyes for a moment, “Shirley…”

“I thought he was the one!”

“Darling you think everyone is the one.” You smiled slightly at her glare, “Sorry. But you know how I feel about this-“

“Yeah yeah, I happen to have emotions unlike you.”

Your smile faded slightly, “That’s what you think?” you asked, “I have no emotions?”

“Do you?” she asked you, “I mean just couple of days ago you got jewelry, you get flowers almost every day, everyone in Brooklyn thinks you’re the prettiest, and you walk around like that means nothing.”

“It does mean nothing.” You had no idea why it came out so defensive, and she shook her head slightly.

“You know, I might be naïve like all of you think, but at least I feel something. I’d take that over your coldness any day.”

“Shirley, you’re upset.” You said, forcing yourself to stay calm, and she sniffled,

“I think I’d like to be alone now.”

You pursed your lips, then shrugged, “Fine then,” you said and left the room, ignoring her calling out for you to close the door. You went back to your room, and started getting dressed, the house felt like it was suffocating you all of a sudden and there were hours until your first client, as Linda had told you.

So that gave you plenty of time to walk around the city.

You walked out of the house as Thomas opened the door for you and you heaved a deep sigh before making your way to a nearby diner. You sat down, ordered a cup of tea and a breakfast.

For almost an hour in which you finished your breakfast, what Shirley had said kept echoing in your head.

Was that what she thought? What all of them thought?

You had no feelings whatsoever?

Maybe that was better. To be seen as such. At least that way, nobody could see you as weak or a victim.

You grabbed your purse before you paid for your breakfast and tea, then stood up to walk back to the brothel. You went through your purse to find a cigarette and a lighter, but while you found a cigarette right away, it looked like you had lost your lighter again. You cussed under your breath, before someone cleared their throat behind you and you looked over your shoulder, then pulled the cigarette from your lips.

“I’m beginning to think I summon you the moment I take out a cigarette Sarge.”

“I sense it when you’re in distress,” Bucky joked, lighting your cigarette, “Can I walk with you?”

You turned the cigarette between your fingers and exhaled the smoke, “Aren’t you worried what people would say?”

He scoffed, “Two good looking people walking together. Seeing that you called me handsome.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you heaved a sigh, “No use denying it, I suppose.”

He shook his head and you tilted your head,

“You’re not the type to give up easily, are you?”

“I’ve been told I’m not.”

You nodded, then started walking beside him, all of a sudden your steps becoming slow as if you didn’t want to arrive there yet.

“How’s your arm?” you stole a look at the plaster and he moved his arm a little, then made a face,

“It’s getting there.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” you said, “You should have some bone broth for that.”

“Bone broth,” he repeated, “You broke your arm when you were a child or…?”

You tried not to delve into the memory and stopped yourself before you could even think what had happened, “Once or twice,” you said airily, then nibbled on your lip.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

“Do you think I’m cold?”

Bucky’s blue eyes held an amused light, as a smile pulled at his lips and he thought for a moment,

“You’re not the…. Most friendly dame in Brooklyn,” he managed to say and you bit inside your cheek, pulling your brows together,

“Oh,” you said softly, and Bucky stopped, his gaze searching yours.

“I made you upset,” he said, his voice way too gentle as if the mere thought of it upset him as well, and you shook your head,

“No, I just-“

“Birdie?” the voice reached your ears and you turned your head to see Charles looking at both of you with a frown.

Oh no.

No no no….

“General Richards,” the forced smile felt almost way too mechanical on your lips, “Hello. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Bucky’s eyes darted between you before a look of realization dawned on his face while Charles frowned slightly,

“This is um-“ you gulped and motioned at Bucky, “I’m sorry, Private Barnes?”

“He’s a Sergeant, Birdie.”

“Oh my bad, we just met you see.” You cleared your throat, “You two know each other?”

Bucky gritted his teeth, nodding and Charles eyed him up and down,

“Sergeant Barnes.”

“General Richards.”

“Sergeant Barnes was kind enough to light my cigarette, I forgot my lighter.” You batted your lashes, looking up at Charles in a manner that he probably thought was complete adoration, “And he didn’t reject my request to walk me home. This part of the town can be dangerous sometimes.”

“You should’ve told me then,” Charles pulled you closer to him, and you could swear a shadow flashed over Bucky’s eyes.

“I will keep that in mind,”

“You can go son,” Charles said, “I can walk her back.”

You raised your brows at Bucky, signaling him not to say anything because something made you think he was seconds away from snapping at Charles and-

Well, you didn’t know anything about the army, but you did know one thing or two about men.

“Oh thank you!” you smiled at Charles and linked your arm through his, pulling him away from there in an attempt to get away before something could happen, “General, you spoil me. I thought you would be too busy to walk me home.”

“Never,” he said and stole a look at your neck, “You didn’t like the necklace, Birdie?”

No, I hated it and I’d rather be cut to pieces than wear that.

“I loved it,” you smiled abashedly, “You know I did. And you made a lot of people jealous, I’ll have you know.”

“Is that right?” he said coldly, “I don’t see you wearing it.”

“General, that’s a diamond necklace,” you said, “It’s way too special for me to wear it on the streets. What if I lost it? I would be devastated!”

That seemed to get him into a better mood, and he smirked.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Of course it is!” you whispered, “There are all kinds of people around here. What if someone tried to steal it? It’s too precious for me.”

“Fine, you can wear it tonight then,” he said as you reached the brothel, “I’ll be seeing you tonight.”

“I can’t wait.” You smiled at him, then opened the door, got into the house, and closed it behind you, leaning your head back.

“Fuck.”

                                                    ***

The whole day went by way too fast. Even General’s visit went by fast, it wasn’t that hard to focus on something else, as you had trained yourself to do.

It was like you weren’t even there.

It wasn’t you. It wasn’t even real.

None of this was real.

“You’re perfect,” Charles said, running his hand through his hair which was starting to turn gray, and grabbed his clothes, “Absolutely perfect, Birdie.”

What-

Oh. He was talking to you.

You didn’t even want to open your mouth to speak, so you settled on a small smile,

“I would’ve stayed but these men tend to put meetings on the worst hours possible.”

You nodded silently, and he tilted his head,

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you managed to say, forcing yourself to come back to the reality, “Of course I am. I- um… You- you’re a very important man so I cannot blame them. I’m sure they can’t make any decisions without you.”

The flattery was almost automatic for you at this point, so much that it made you wonder how you managed not to believe in anything you said.

“That’s right,” he chuckled, “I do blame them though.”

You nodded, and let him kiss you deeply,

“I might be busy for a while Birdie,” he said “At least until we get some things under control. Don’t worry if I don’t visit for a while.”

I hope you die by some miracle.

“I will be heartbroken,” you said “But I understand.”

“I will send you gifts.”

“Thank you, I hold them very precious to my heart.”

If I could, I wouldn’t let any of your gifts touch my skin.

He winked at you, then walked out of your room and you shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts. You unclasped the necklace nimbly, throwing it into one of the drawers where you wouldn’t be able to see it, then ran to the bathroom to turn the water on, desperate to scrape your skin and stay in the tub until you felt better.

It took you almost an hour, but eventually you left the bathroom, got into your nightgown and walked to the window to close it, but what you saw on the street made you stop dead on your tracks. You stared at the figure leaning against the wall, then grabbed your coat from the hanger and put it on before you made your way downstairs,

“Y/N-?”

“I’ll be back in a minute,” you told Thomas who nodded and opened the door for you. You looked around, then crossed the street, grabbed Bucky by his healthy arm and pulled him into the dark alley.

“What are you-?”

“Do you know what kind of a man he is?” he asked you, “General Richards?”

“Sarge-“

“Do you?” he asked you again, the sharp smell of booze coming off of him hitting you instantly,

“You’re drunk.”

“He-“ Bucky pointed at the street, “If you knew half of the things he did, you would have nothing to do with him.”

“You’re drunk Sarge, go home.”

“I saw him send men into their deaths, boys even- without batting an eye,” he insisted, “That man is a monster and you- he-“

“What?” you crossed your arms, “I can’t exactly pick and choose my clients as you know.”

Bucky’s breathing was fast, “What about today?”

“What about today?” you asked and he licked his lips,

“You sounded like you loved him,” he said, “Like he’s not cruel, like you can’t see it. You weren’t cold with him.”

“Are you going somewhere with this, or will I have to listen to your rambling all night?” you forced yourself to say and he took a deep breath,

“I’m telling you, he’s a monster,” he said, “You’re smart, I’m sure you picked things up. Isn’t it hard for you?”

That right there felt like a punch. It was way too much, you were tired, you were angry, you were sad and all your feelings were all over the place, so hearing that made your eyes burn, to your own surprise. Your jaw clenched before you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, then a painful smile pulled at your lips.

“No,” you heard yourself say softly, “It’s not hard at all, Sergeant Barnes. The oldest profession in the world also happens to be the easiest, hasn’t anyone told you? Or were you shouting too loud to hear anyone else other than yourself?”

He looked almost taken aback, and your heart skipped a beat, but your eyes were burning way too bad. You weren’t sure if you could stop yourself from crying, and that definitely couldn’t happen.

You were cold after all. It was about time you remembered that.

So, you turned around and made your back to the brothel, leaving him there in the alley, without sparing a glance at him.

                                                ***

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[no-longer-an-alley-cat]

A myth (or collection of myths) for a goddess of a particular pantheon heavily inspired by @thestalkerbunny’s “Grandmother Beetroot” comic.

Tabha is the goddess of familial ties and volcanoes. Within the pantheon she is associated more with the sun god, which means that she does not abide outright lies and does not kill.

Also worth noting: Rozia is the goddess of privacy, medicine, and magic, and the River Zed is domain of Zayla, an aromantic, asexual goddess whose preisthood serves a legitimate way for people to escape the obligations of marriage in this setting. ‘Jadda’ is an anglicisation of the Modern Standard Arabic for grandmother.

Jadda Tabha

Jadda Tabha lives high up on the slopes of the mountain, growing her crops in the rich volcanic soil. She does not live alone; the hunting cats and soaring eagles keep her company and she keeps many hives. When people ask her about what sort of company such wild companions can provide, she laughs and tells them that the creatures help her keep an eye on things. She never specifies what things.

Jadda Tabha has a mane of grey hair that glimmers with gold when the sun hits it. It frames her face like an old lion’s mane, making her stone-grey eyes seem fiercer and her olive-brown skin more weathered. This is merely an appearance, however, she is always pleasantly warm whatever the weather and gives the best hugs. 

Like many old people, Jadda Tabha moves slowly. She makes her way down the mountainside at the same steady pace in torrential rain as she does in the blistering sun. Travellers who have accompanied her up or down say that the paths she knows are less steep than the ones they can find on their own. Children who take it into their heads to attempt to climb to the peak are guided back down in less time than it takes to organise a search party with their scrapes tended to and their fears soothed by a piece of honey candy.

If you make the journey up to Jadda Tabha’s hut, you can hear the magma inside the mountain bubbling away in the crater further up the track and it sounds almost like a huge cauldron. She smiles when people tell her this and says that she has no need for a cauldron that big, she is only cooking for herself. Much of the food she grows she gives to the village people — she says she plants so much to give the bees something to do.

It is easy to talk to Jadda Tabha. She is a solid presence.

Dependable.

Once she overheard a young man boasting that he would marry only the ugliest eligible person because they were sure to be grateful and not ask him to do work around the house. Jadda Tabha gave him a cream to rub on his face before bed that would surely make even the prettiest person grateful to marry him.

He did so but noticed no change, so he when he next saw Jadda Tabha in town, he accosted her. “The cream did not work,” he told her. “I haven’t received any proposals since I used it.”

“Ah,” she said in her slow and steady way, “what did you do in the waking hours before you used the cream?” The man spluttered that he didn’t see how it mattered, but under her inexorable stare he admitted that he had spent the days lying around his parents’ house and drinking with his friends. Jadda Tabha clucked her tongue. “The cream requires the sweat of a day’s labour to work,” she explained. “Do you have a patch of land to clear, perhaps?”

“Why?” the young man demanded, brash like young men often are. “What sort of medicine are you giving me that requires me to help it?”

“Would you rather I give you someone else’s sweat to rub on your face?” Jadda Tabha asked, and the man admitted that he would not. 

And so he went to work, tilling the plot of land his ageing parents struggled with and applying the cream to his face each night. Each day he needed to do slightly more work to work up a sweat, and before the tub was half done he was tending to the farm all by himself and attracting many admiring glances from those that valued a committed partner who knew how to moisturise. 

One time a pair of feuding siblings came to her, a frosty silence hanging between the two broken only by pointed remarks made to a third party. It was difficult to tease out the reasons for the broken relationship, but Jadda Tabha was patient and while the siblings broke their silence to scream at each other she pieced together that a new baby sister was at the centre of the current storm. The elder sibling, having moved out before the arrival of the sister, accused the younger of trying to keep her away from the baby while the younger accused her sibling of trying to ‘steal’ her little sister from her.

“A baby is not a toy,” Jadda Tabha said, easily making her voice heard over the warring siblings. “Just because she can’t talk yet doesn’t mean that she’s an object to be stolen.”

“Yes, Jadda Tabha,” the siblings chorused, showing that they had been taught their manners, at least. But Jadda Tabha discerned that these were just words, and the sentiments here would not be so easily changed.

“Perhaps there is a way to test which of you is best equipped to play with this child,” she said carefully. “There are a few kittens I have been nursing after their mother tragically died. You will each take one and look after it for three nights; when you return them they will tell me which of you did the better job.”

The siblings agreed eagerly, enthusiasm waning slightly when Jadda Tabha presented them with a pair of fuzzy cheetah cubs rather than the housecats they had expected. After listening intently to Jadda Tabha’s instructions, they took the cubs home, each determined to procure the very best toys for the small creatures.

They spent their respective evenings keeping the cubs entertained with feathers and balls, but when night fell, they did not grow less active. They squeaked constantly and wriggled out of blankets, no matter how cosily they were arranged. They refused to eat, seeming to prefer instead to stand at the window and cry piteously at the moon. For such small creatures, they seemed capable of shockingly piercing cries. Finally, the younger sibling bundled her cub up and rushed to her other sibling, finding her in a similar sleepless predicament. 

No sooner had she entered the home of her eldest sibling than the cheetah cub had wriggled itself free, flung itself on the other, and soon the pair of them lay in a purring heap. The eldest sibling silently made up a bed for her younger sibling and the two of them went to sleep as quietly as possible.

The very next day, they returned the cubs to Jadda Tabha.

“We see what you were teaching us,” the elder sibling said respectfully. “When we force each other away, we bring suffering.”

“And that something small and cute can be insufferable,” the younger added.

“I’m glad to see you are such fast learners,” Jadda Tabha said, lifting a cub into her lap. “Though I half hoped I could spend another two nights without little claws tearing up my floors.”

The siblings accepted the compliment and beat a hasty retreat before Jadda Tabha could think of more lessons that could be learnt by fostering cheetah cubs.

Once a young woman climbed the mountain to knock on Jadda Tabha’s door. She accepted the cup of honeyed tea that she was offered, but almost before the proper observances had been made she requested a healing balm. Her excuses about being clumsy and prone to accidents shattered on Jadda Tabha’s stony stare and before she knew it she was detailing her husband’s rages, how he told neighbours that she was crazy and made her half believe it herself, how he never hit her where it showed. Jadda Tabha clucked her tongue. 

“Ah, child,” she said, “this is more hurt than one of my balms can heal. Why don’t you head east, where a temple of Rozia sits on the banks of the River Zed? They will be able to help you more there.”

“Oh, but my husband!” the woman cried. “He will be angry that I’ve been away as long as I already have been.”

“Don’t fret, child,” Jadda Tabha said, getting to her feet in her slow and steady way. “I will explain to your husband.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the woman said. But Jadda Tabha would hear none of it, providing her with provisions and sending her on her way before she made her own journey to the village. The young woman and her abuser lived on the outskirts of the village, so it was not as long a walk as it might have been. Jadda Tabha did not hurry, however, and arrived just as night began to fall.

As soon as the man heard footsteps on the porch he started shouting, only to stop and stare in disbelief when the door opened to reveal Jadda Tabha. “Where is my wife!” he demanded, scowling.

“Away,” Jadda Tabha said calmly. “I’ve come to tell you that she will not return for some time. Possibly ever.”

“Where did she go? What did she say to you? The dumb bitch is always lying,” the man sneered. 

“I know a lie when I’m told it,” Jadda Tabha said, her grey eyes sharpening to something more like steel. “You should worry less about what she has told me and more about what you are telling me now.”

“Insolent old woman!” the man proclaimed and he moved to hit her, as he had learned that this was a way to escape truths that he’d rather not hear. This is not true.

And, particularly in the case of Jadda Tabha, a mistake.

The man screamed as his hand broke across the old woman’s cheek. “You would be better off beating the mountain,” Jadda Tabha said as the moon rose in the east and the air rang with the cries of night hunters. She sighed, looking down at him as he sat crying in his own doorstep. “Ah, what am I to do with you, child? The priests of the sun would have you do penance, the priests of the moon would have you hunted. Either way, you would end up dead.”

“Mercy,” the man begged and Jadda Tabha raised an eyebrow.

“You ask for mercy? You, who hurt those you think can’t or won’t hurt you back? Who spread lies to hide your misdeeds? You ask me for mercy? Very well.” Jadda Tabha stepped back, holding the man in place with her steely gaze. “Perhaps you will be redeemed, after all. But if you harm another living being, it will be the end of you.”

And with that, Jadda Tabha turned him into a bee; another worker for her hives.

It is said that if a person is being abused by their family or lover and can not make the trek up to Jadda Tabha’s hut, it is enough to tell the bees. Even if uttering the words is too much, it can be worthwhile setting up a hive. The bees are eager to earn Jadda Tabha’s forgiveness. They help her keep an eye on things.

[gaamagirl565]

Matters of the heart ep 12

Matters of the heart Episode 12 A day to remember {OPENING CREDITS} {We open to old Corona orchard and people are setting up the orchard for the wedding} Isaiah: Okay good…. lanterns check…. wedding arch check... father being nervous and being teased by the king and mr. Lance…. double check…. {Draki slithers on his shoulder} Isaiah: Oh! Hi Draki! Check it out! {he holds up a clipboard} Isaiah: Grandpa gave me the job of going around and checking off things that are supposed to be on the list... Yep I'm quite the big shot around here… Akina: LOOK OUT! {Akina runs into him and knocks him over} Isaiah: owwwww... Akina: S-Sorry Isaiah! Isaiah: Akina? ...why are you...wearing heels? Akina:....I wanna look pretty...don’t tell mama… {Lily enters frame in a lovely green dress} Isaiah: Lily!...I...uhh...you...Your looking….uh...green!... Lily: what? Isaiah:....one moment… {Isaiah goes behind a tree and screams before coming back out} Isaiah: I’m good… Lily: ummm...okay...I came to get you to tell you apparently there's something going down. Zapada’s freaking out. Isaiah:  is she okay? Lily: donno… Isaiah:  well then this looks like a job for the master of wedding planning! {he holds up clipboard heroically} Lily: I hope you realize your grandfather gave you that job just so you would get out of the way… Isaiah: …. why you gotta do that to me? {Cut to Isaiah’s house and Rapunzel is doing Zapada’s hair} Rapunzel: Calm down Zapada...it’s going to be alright… Zapada: How can I calm it? The wedding is today! And the cake has not arrived, the flowers have not yet been acquired,  and Varian knows nothing of it....but I had mothers necklace cleaned and it is not yet ready! Adira: This is why earrings and I never got married… Zapada: But... you have child? Adira: and? {silence} Zapada: never mind… {Isaiah, akina, and lily walk in} Isaiah: what’s going on? Rapunzel: It's alright kids just a bit of pre-wedding jitters... Adira:....Small one are you wearing heels? Akina: eep! Zapada: Wait! My wedding does not start until sundown... Isaiah... could you find it possible to head to town and acquire a few items? Isaiah: I don't see why I can't! Zapada: Ah! Blessed boy! Mulțumesc! {she hands him a list} Zapada: Take the wagon and horse! Go! Isaiah: You can count on the master of wedding planning! Akina: mama? May I go? Adira:...I suppose...But stay out of trouble, small one! Lily: I’ll go too! Keep these two out of trouble! Rapunzel: Alright you all can go but back here before sundown! Isaiah: Yes, Your majesty! Lily: Yes mom! Rapunzel: go! Go! Quickly! {They all run out; Cut to the main road and the wagon zips past the camera with Isaiah at the drivers seat and Lily and Akina in the back hanging on for dear life} Lily: Isaiah! Have you ever driven before!? Isaiah: Nope! Dad never lets me drive! Woo-hoo! Akina: I can see why! {They go over a bump and gallop through the main gate to the town; People dodge out of the way} Lily: Isaiah! Slow down! We want to get there but we want to get there alive and without homicide charges! Isaiah: ugh...okay, alright relax you kill joys...we’re here anyway… {He slows the horse to a stop} Isaiah: Well that was fun! {He looks in the back to see Akina holding onto Lily with messy hair and Lly glaring at him; cut to the three standing in town; Isaiah tears the list into 3 pieces} Isaiah:  we’ll get done faster if we each have our own individual jobs...Akina you go get the cake... Lily...heh... you go get the flowers… Lily: Very funny… Isaiah:  I'll get the necklace from the Jewelers.. once we're finished let's meet back here. Ready? Break! {They all run in different directions; cut to Atilla’s bakery}

Atilla: one cupcake! Two cupcakes! Three cup- {The door jingles and Atilla looks but no one is there; he goes back to baking} Atilla: four cupcakes! Akina: Ahem! Excuse me! Atilla: huh? {he walks over to the counter and looks down and sees Akina} Atilla: ….awwww! Hi there! Want a cupcake? Akina: um...actually… Atilla: I just made a fresh batch of croissants! with chocolate frosting in the middle! Akina:...sir.. Atilla:  or perhaps you're more of a fruit person!  I made some apple fritters! Akina:  actually I'm here for a wedding cake that was supposed to be delivered today! Atilla: oh...sorry!  you seem a little young to be getting married... or maybe you're just one of those really short people I'm sorry! Akina: N-NO! Not me!!! For miss Zapada! Atilla: OHHH! right! I have it all baked but I still have to decorate it... I suddenly got a huge order of cupcakes for a child's birthday party. Akina:... you still need to decorate it?.... maybe I can help... I used to help Papa with all the baking when I was little... maybe I can help you? Atilla:.. depends... can you hold icing in your hand and not eat it… akina: I can try… Atilla: You're hired! {he puts a chef hat on her and she giggles; Cut to the jewelers Isaiah walks in and the jeweler turns around ready to help} Jeweler: AH!...it’s you!... Isaiah: hello to you too? Jeweler: You...You blew up the marketplace! I lost a month's worth of revenue from that! Isaiah: oh for God’s sa-that was months ago! Jeweler: yes...but...still...what can I help you with? Isaiah: I’m here to pick up a Necklace? Was brought here by Zapada? Jeweler: oh...that one...ugh...yes I have it...but it’ll be ten gold pieces.. Isaiah: *Chokes* TEN GOLD PIECES!? The sign says cleaning is 5! Jeweler: Call it payment for all the suffering you've caused me after that horrible incident… Isaiah: So you're racking up the price for an event that happened months ago which you surely gained the money back for!?   let's not forget I also suffered! do you not see my face!? Jeweler: I could always rack it up to 15… Isaiah: why you stingy little…. {He throws ten gold pieces on the counter} Isaiah: well?...take it or leave it! {The jeweler takes the money and hands over the polished necklace} Jeweler: pleasure doing business with you... Isaiah: Yeah Whatever… {He goes to walk out} Jeweler: Traitor’s son… {Isaiah flinches but walks out with his head high; cut to the flower shop and Lily is looking at the various flowers as the old florist makes the wedding bouquet} Old florist: Something wrong my princess? Lily:  just... I keep wondering if... I don't know... if I'm pretty enough to be considered a princess. Old florist:  it's a boy isn't it? Lily: huh!? Old florist: I've lived a long time dearie…. I know that look in your eyes as well as I know the flowers in this shop.  you're looking for someone to notice you. Lily:  well... there is one boy... I chose the prettiest dress I could for this wedding hoping maybe... just maybe... he would see me as more than just a princess…. Old florist: I see... and what happened? Lily:  he said I looked green…. {The old lady chuckles} Old florist:  men can be a funny thing.  sometimes when they see something so lovely they become tongue-tied and don't know what to say.  another time they don't notice at all.  let me tell you something my princess.  if there's one thing I've learned from all these years on this Earth it's that people don't pay attention to what you look like. if you truly want a person to respect you for who you are rather than what you are show them through action not appearances. Lily: how do I do that? Old florist:  just be yourself...Be Lily... don't be princess Lily… {The old florist walks over and fixes her hair with flowers in it} Lily:. i...I look lovely… {The old florist hands her the bouquet} Old florist: Remember you may be lovely on the outside but what really matters is what's on the inside.  without beauty within we are nothing. Now go shine yourself bright. {Lily hugs her} Lily: Thank you! {She runs out of the store; Isaiah runs up to the wagon} Isaiah: Where is everyone-WHOA! {Akina is behind him covered in frosting with Atilla next to her holding a beautiful white cake decorated with flowers and pink sugar crystals to look like quartz} Isaiah: holy mackerel… Atilla: she did a good job right? Isaiah: Akina YOU  did that!? Akina: y-yes? Isaiah: It’s amazing!! Akina: Really! I did my best! R-really I did! Lily: What’s going on? Isaiah: Aki-wow …. Lily: Isaiah? Akina: Lily you look soooo pretty! Isaiah: yeah...beautiful…… {Lily smiles and blushes} Isaiah: Bwag! Uhh! We need to get back! Got everything!? Akina: right-o captain! {Isaiah goes to hop in the drivers seat but Lily is already there} Isaiah: huh!? Lily: oh no you don’t! I’m driving now! Isaiah: mmmnnn fine!!! Lily: alright everyone in? Then off we go! Hyah! {She tells the horse to canter; they pass by a shop} Isaiah: Wait! {Lily stops the horse; Isaiah takes out a small round object and tosses it into the store; a boom is heard followed by a girlish scream} Jeweler: MY GEMS!!! {Lily glares at him} Isaiah: what?...Oh relax it was one of my dads Bath bombs! Keep going! {she canters the horse; cut to the orchard and Varian getting ready to stand by the arch} Quirin: how do you feel? Varian: nervous...but excited… Quirin: just like I was...you’ve done everything for your family and now it’s getting bigger...I proud of you son. Varian: Thanks dad… {Cut to Zapada outside the orchard} Zapada: where are they!? Rapunzel: Zapada: they’ll be here soon! But the wedding is starting very soon! Zapada: mmnn...alright….lets how you say...do this… {Lily has the horse at a gallop} Isaiah: and MY driving was bad? Lily: oh hush up! We’re going to be late! Akina: Lily We’re almost there slow down! We’re gonna-! {The wagon breaks a wheel on a rock sending everything in the back including Akina  flying} Isaiah: NOO! Lily: ...my bad. Zapada: here we go..sigh...hmm? {Suddenly she catches the bouquet and her necklace} Zapada: Oh!? {The cake lands upright on a table} Varian: ummmm Quirin:...did I just see what I think I saw or am I finally losing it with age? {Distant screaming slowly becomes louder} Lance: MY GIRL! {He catches Akina} Akina: Papa! Lance: why are you covered in frosting? {Isaiah runs up by his dad and Lily runs to her chair} Rapunzel: Well..everything seems to be...in order now...you ready? Zapada:...Da...yes..I am… {The wedding march starts and Zapada walks down the aisle in a white off the shoulder dress with long sleeves, a braid and a flower crown; Varians eyes widen upon seeing her and he feels tears well up} Eugene: he cried pay up… Lance: d’ohhh… {He hands him a few coins and Zapada gets to the arch; Varian kisses her} Isaiah: Dad!...PSST!...Dad! Not yet! Varian: oops!..hehe sorry.. Preacher: Ladies and gentlemen we gather here under the sight of God to join in union this man and this woman in holy matrimony. {As he speaks the camera pans to different people in the crowd looking happy, loving on their significant other, or smiling} Preacher: Varian do you promise to love and cherish this woman, honor her, and be there for her in sickness and in health till death do you part? Varian:...I do… Preacher: Zapada do you promise to love and cherish this man, honor him, and be there for him in sickness and in health till death do you part? Zapada: I do… Peacher: may we have the rings… {Eugene gives the rings} Preacher: repeat after me. With this ring I thee wed… Varian: Zapada... With this ring I thee wed. Zapada: Varian... With this ring I thee wed… Preacher: With the power vested in me...I now declare you Husband and wife...you may k-!? {Zapada jumps and kisses Varian; the crowd cheers and Isaiah smiles Isaiah runs up and hugs them; begin montage of the celebration} {flash one} Zapada: *puts cake on Varians nose* Varian: *laughs* {flash two} Zapada: *throws bouquet* Adira: *accidentally catches it* Lance: *high fives Eugene* {flash three} {everyone is slow dancing} Lily: so uh...Isaiah...you wanna...dance? Isaiah:...o-okay… {Isaiah leads her out to the dance floor and they dance awkwardly at first but ease into it} Isaiah: so umm..you really do look nice tonight lily...and uh..you look...um.. You got flowers...and...ummm {Lily rolls her eyes and gives him a peck on the lips} Lily: hehe shut up… Isaiah:....okay… {pan to Varian and Zapada} Varian: Everything you ever dreamed? Zapada: even more… {They kiss} {END CREDITS}

[wildroseofarran]

Come to Jesus || Fletcher & June

June: At precisely 8:03 p.m. there would be pounding on Fletcher's door followed by a very familiar voice shouting, "Fletcher Bradley Goodman!"

Fletcher: A text would vibrate her phone a moment later.

{Text} Still downstairs why are you shouting

June: June looked at her phone and went downstairs to plant herself in front of the shop door. She was carrying a takeout container and her jacket looked slightly...bulkier than usual. And to say she looked pissed would be the understatement of the century.

"Fletcher Bradley Goodman, you let me in right now!"

Fletcher: The shopkeeper lumbered to the door. His beard thicker their last meeting. His back was somewhat hunched, elongating his blue cardigan.

His greeting, "Ya pregnant?"

June: "That's what you're gonna say to me?!" She brushed past him and into the shop. "Not 'hey, June'? Not 'how's it going, June'? Not 'hey June, I decided to pop the question to Marion Weber and didn't tell you'?! What the hell is wrong with you!"

Fletcher: "Uh... Sure, come on in, Junebug. How ya been? What's eatin' ya?" The shop door was locked behind her.

June: "YOU'RE EATING ME!" She shoved the takeout container at him the moment he turned back around. "Eat this dinner I brought you!"

Fletcher: "M'I eatin' you or the takeout?"

June: "Ye-both! Eat the damn takeout and while you're at it you can tell me what the hell you're thinking!"

Fletcher: "Why ya mad? She ain't done nothin' t'ya." He sniffed the container and peeked inside.

June: Inside the container were homemade enchiladas and rice. Not from a restaurant, but from her own kitchen.

"Why am I mad? Fletcher, there's no way you're that blind! Don't you see what she's doing?!"

Fletcher: "She ain't doin' anything. M'the one that gave her a ring."

June: "She's manipulating you! She's taking advantage of you! She's inserting herself into your life and trying to drain what's left of it!"

Fletcher: "She's been in my life since middle school, June. Don't talk 'bout shit ya know nothin' about."

June: "Yeah, and what did she do while ya'll were in school? Was she a good honest friend who had your best interests at heart or did she purposefully lie to you and hurt you?"

Fletcher: "We were kids."

June: "There is no justification or excuse for what she did. She knew exactly what she was doing and I would bet money she would do the same now. The way she treated you is not how you treat someone you call your friend. That's not how you treat someone you've known for years, someone you've talked to and laughed with and shared experiences with. You don't sabotage their life and don't pick up the pieces just to rub them in your face. The way she's treated you isn't how you treat someone you love, and I may have been too young to be there, but I do know a little something about loving you, Fletcher Goodman!"

Fletcher: Fletcher bit his tongue while she spoke, shaking his head with exasperation. This was not what he wanted; what he needed he couldn't say, but certainly he could express desires.

"Thanks for the enchiladas. Ya gonna have some with me, or ya gonna go?"

June: "You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm leaving."

A soft, distressed 'mew' could be heard coming from...somewhere. June hugged her arms around herself and looked away, taking a deep breath to fight off what she knew was coming.

Fletcher: "So uh... what's that about?" He pointed to her jacket.

June: A little ear poking up behind the zipper would answer his question.

"He's in a mood," she said to the wall, not trusting herself to look at Fletcher yet.

Fletcher: "Well, yeah, he's stuffed in your jacket." Fletcher tilted his head at his guest.

June: “He’s in my jacket because he’s in a mood. He’s been clingy all day.”

Socks had poked his whole head out and was attempting to nuzzle her chin as he purred.

Fletcher: "Well, then go home n'be with your cat."

June: “My cat is here and so am I.” She finally turned to face him again. Her eyes looked red. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Fletcher: "June, don't ya fuckin' cry over shit that don't need cryin' over."

June: “I’m not crying! And if I was I get to decide what needs crying!”

Fletcher: "Is this just gonna be ya yellin' at me? Ya can take that home wit'cha."

June: “I already yelled at home,” she muttered.

Fletcher: "What?"

June: “Nothing. Are you going to eat?”

Fletcher: "I guess, shit."

June: “Good. Let’s go.”

Fletcher: "What d'ya want t'come outta this?"

June: “I just...” She took a deep breath and shrugged. “I feel like you’re slipping into a fog and I’m losing sight of you.”

Fletcher: "Go'on now. Ya make it sound like some Darth Vader shit. M'still here."

June: “Are you?” June asked softly, eyes glistening in spite of herself. “I’ve barely seen you lately. When I have it feels like you’re not really present. All you do is work.”

Fletcher: "S'easier then waitin' for shit that ain't gonna happen," he said quietly.

June: “So you’re just going to settle? You’re going to pull away from your life and just be in a relationship your heart isn’t in?”

Fletcher: He threw his hands up and let the dead weight slap back on his thighs. "M'just movin' on."

June: “And I have nothing against you moving on, Fletcher. If I believed that you love her and she loves you, I would be the first person congratulating you. If you looked the least bit happy, I would be jumping for joy and promising to you and to myself to give her a chance and be nice. But honey, I don’t. I love you so much. More than I think you’ll ever understand. I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who’s crazy about you, someone who wants to see you thrive. Someone you’re in love with.”

Fletcher: Deep breath. He just couldn't lie to her as easily as he could everyone else. They could lie together, but not to each other.

"No one's gonna love me the way ya think they should, June. Just put that outta your head right now. Okay? These are the cards m'dealin'."

June: He was wrong. June believed with all her heart that he was wrong. But right now, she didn't think he was ready to hear it. "They don't have to be your cards. You don't have to settle for the deck you have, you can get a new one. If it's a...physical thing you're really after, I'll buy you as many lap dances as you want and rent you the prettiest, healthiest hooker in North Carolina, but please, Fletcher. Don't do this to yourself."

Fletcher: "June, I've already given her a ring. I'm already in this. Now, we're gonna eat this, alright? We're gonna eat n'we ain't gonna discuss it. Tell me 'bout your day n'what's goin' on with ya."

June: "Nothing is set in stone." And that was the last she would say of it. For today. There was no way she was letting her best friend in the world make such a giant mistake. Marion had done enough damage; June wouldn't let her do anymore.

"Let's go upstairs then. Socks wants to see his mom."

Fletcher: "Fine. Lemme finish up what I was doin'." He shook his head. He knew what Marion had done, but he was wondering who had opened their mouth specifically to June. So, with that in mind, "Who told ya?"

June: "Does it matter? It should've been you."

Fletcher: "I asked so I wanna know."

June: "Your question should be who didn't tell me. I heard it from three people, including my old pal Liv Garcia. She told me as loudly and publicly as she possibly could to see how I would react. You remember Liv, she used to keep everyone who would listen up to date on how many men had dumped me on any given week and tell them how much of a whore I was."

Fletcher: "How the fuck ya stay friends with these people?"

June: "I don't. She ran into the pub to tell me while I was in the middle of pulling a damn beer for a customer."

Fletcher: "N'who else?"

June: "What are you gonna do, kneecap them for tattling?"

Fletcher: "Maybe."

June: "I won't point out what that tells me. We both know."

Fletcher: "That I like my life t'myself?"

June: "You should've told Marion not to shout it from the rooftops if you didn't want anyone to know."

Fletcher: "She didn't shout."

June: "She might as well have. Tell one group of moms at the carpool area and the whole town knows in the next hour."

Fletcher: Fletcher reemerged from the back curtain with a frown. "Who else told ya?"

June: "One of the moms at the carpool lane was my sister-in-law. But at least she had the decency to tell me in private."

Fletcher: "People think we're datin' or somethin'?"

June: "My family does. And apparently so do a lot of other people."

Fletcher: "Did people just decide t'ignore Luke?"

June: "You haven't been out in public enough to receive their pitying looks."

Fletcher: "Sucks that Luke n'what's-his-face left, but they were here. Fuck people that forget that."

June: "People don't give a fuck about what doesn't affect them. They'll openly pick apart your life while you're standing off to the side bleeding out. I know that better than anyone."

Fletcher: "What's it matter what they say? Ya ain't in love with me."

June: “They don’t care what’s true or not. They’ll keep at it until some poor unfortunate soul gives them something else to yap about.”

Fletcher: "What matters more, that they say it at all, that it's about me with ya, or that m'throwin' in the towel with Marion?"

June: “I don’t give a damn about them. I give a damn about you, and I really wish you would too, Fletcher.”

Fletcher: He gestured to the door. Right now he cared about just moving to the next room.

June: All right then, into the next room. She did want Fletcher to eat a proper meal, she hadn't just come to yell at him. She hadn't been planning to yell either, it had just come out of her.

Fletcher: The last of the security system was coded in before shutting the door. June was led upstairs to his apartment. Some of Marion's clothes were strewn about on the couch and chair. The home itself had a distinctly sweet scent of her perfume. Like cotton candy and clean linen. He'd grown used to it years ago.

"Tell me somethin' nice."

June: June tried not to clench her teeth no matter how much she instinctually wanted to. Everything about that woman made her tense and angry and she wasn't entirely certain it was all to do with Fletcher. Marion had probably killed her in a past life.

She unzipped her jacket and let Socks out to go find his mom. "You've got a hell of a beard going."

Fletcher: "Thanks?"

June: "I'll think of something else here in a second." If she could manage to let go of her anger with Marion's shit everywhere.

Fletcher: "What, 'bout me?"

June: "Just in general." She took a deep breath. "I um, I saw Ryan Hawbaker today." A casual allusion to Pete without actually mentioning him. "He and Stella picked a name for the baby."

Fletcher: Plates and utensils were set aside. "Mm," was all he had to say on the subject.

June: "They're having a little girl. Graham is excited."

Fletcher: "That's their son?"

June: June nodded. "Yeah. He's turning 8 soon."

Fletcher: "N'what 'bout your family?"

June: "They're doing good. My brother's doing some renovations on the Hendricks house. They're thinking of selling it now that their daughter's off at college."

Fletcher: "Not one for passin' it along." Not exactly a question; something closer to rhetorical. "Gonna sit with me?"

June: "They would, but she and her fiance are moving to Seattle after they finish school." June nodded. "Of course. Couch or table?"

Fletcher: "Ya pick."

June: "Table then. Easier to cleanup in case the enchiladas make a mess."

Fletcher: He figured. He set the table and plopped into his seat. "What else has been goin' on? New boyfriend?"

June: "I would've told you if there was," she said pointedly. "But no, no boyfriend."

Fletcher: "Oh ya would, huh?" He heard that tone.

June: "You'd be the first person I'd tell."

Fletcher: "How 'bout that Kelly dude?"

June: "He barely speaks."

Fletcher: "Neither do I. Ya like them strong quiet types."

June: "Kelly's not looking. Bonnie came in one day with her tits barely covered and he didn't look once."

Fletcher: "That just means the man's got taste, Junebug."

June: June shook her head. "He's not after anything resembling a relationship with anyone. Just barely lets people try to be his friend. Or acquaintance even."

Fletcher: "Heard 'bout that." Saw more like.

June: "As far as I can tell, all Kelly does is work."

Fletcher: Hell, were they related? "Fuck em, then." His first bite and Fletcher was at peace with the world.

June: "He's a decent guy. Hard worker."

The tiniest smile curved her lips. "Good?"

Fletcher: "Mhm. I needed this."

June: "The food or the company?"

Fletcher: "Both," he said gently.

June: "You can have both any time you want. I've been trying to get you to go to the gym with me for like two weeks."

Fletcher: "Mm. Fine. Tomorrow or this weekend. Ya pick." He felt at his beard. He should trim, he knew, but just hadn't cared enough.

June: "Tomorrow." If it wasn't so late and they both didn't have to work in the morning, she'd take him tonight. This...whatever it was had gone on long enough.

Fletcher: Fletcher all but cleaned his plate, nodding his thanks before leaning back. He was staring off into space again, as he so often did. He wanted to ask about Peter, and in equal share didn't want to even think about him, his name, his face, no aspect whatsoever.

His mouth opened, closed.

Fletcher got to his feet to fetch a beer.

June: While Fletcher stared off into space, June stared at him, wondering what was going through that brain of his.

“What?” she asked softly.

Fletcher: "Hmm?"

June: “You looked like you were about to say something.”

Fletcher: "Nope."

June: “Okay.” She’d leave that be for now. “So what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?”

Fletcher: "Work, upstairs, drinkin', sleepin', repeat."

June: “Then I came at just the right time to shake up your routine.”

Fletcher: "Mhm. Want a beer? Or like... I got whiskey and apple juice?"

June: “Apple juice, please.”

Fletcher: "Nothin' else?"

June: “Nope, I’m good.”

Fletcher: "Wanna do a movie or somethin'? M'free t'night." Her drink was handed over.

June: “Oooh, yes! What should we watch?”

Fletcher: "Whatever ya want. You're in control of Netflix."

June: "Then I say we watch something fun and lighthearted."

Fletcher: "Shouldn't ya be goin' into the city with some girlfriends n'lil dresses havin' the time of your life? Or at The Brig or somethin'?"

June: “I’m right where I want to be, Fletch.” She tugged him down to kiss his cheek. “Spending time with you isn’t a consolation prize. It’s just a prize.”

Fletcher: The Samsa was easily moved. His hum like a rumble from a great beast. He looked much older than truth tonight.

"Fine."

June: “I mean it. Tonight we watch a movie and tomorrow we go to the gym. Maybe we can go for pizza after?”

Fletcher: "And negate all the gym?"

June: “Yes. It’s been way too long since we’ve had pizza.”

Fletcher: "We'll see. I dunno what she wants t'do tomorrow."

June: “Well, even if we don’t get pizza tomorrow we’re still going to the gym.” That shrew would not interfere with that.

Fletcher: "Kay. Said I would."

June: “Good. Now let’s watch this movie.”

[rage-against-the-meyer]

Breaking Dawn (2008)

So, I've reviewed the other Twilight Saga books already, but I promiss you, this is gonna be the worst one yet. I must admit, as a 13-year-old girl this was my favorite book (don't kill me yet). I was growing up in a Dutch small Christian town that had had a big infuence on my views. In my mind, it was perfectly logical that the story ends with a child against all odd. As a grown-up Biomedical scientist, this does not go anymore. As such, I now view Breaking Dawm as the absolute worst one yet and here, I will tell you exactly why.

Breaking Dawn is a big fat book that consists of three different books. I will discuss the books seperately in fear that it might be too much otherwise.

Part I from Bella's point of view

It's no surprise that I actually do like this book. We get 6 chapters of sheer happiness and joy. Very much Edward/Bella intimacy and they finally have sex (woohoo). So what can I bitch about?

Well, actually not too much. I loved the wedding, the secret goodbyes (yes, I cried). I just believe that after the first 6 chapters Bella should have struggled with the decission to change instead of the pregnancy. Yes, Chapter 7 is the cursed chapter for me. It's the onset of all pending misery. Also, it is the first time that menstruations are mentioned and the weak excuse SM gave to explain the never-having-killed-her-due-to-smelling-period-blood on Edwards part is just that, weak. So, all-in-all, I hated this chapter but what comes after is exceedingly worse.

Part II from Jacob's point of view

I hate Jacob. That much hasn't changed. I hated the cold Jacob that is so prominent here very very much. Personal sun my ass. I have always loathed this POV but it offers us some interesting views on the wolves and the Quileute people. It was good to see the communication between the wolves, but it was also nonsense. The big difference between you can't hide what you think and thinking in directed full sentences became a blurry line that never really made sense to me. What was good about it, is that we saw how pure Seth's mind is and how deeply hurt and actually good Leah is. Seth, a mere teenager, is objectively one of the purest characters I have ever read and that's on that. The faint influence of the coming Gen Z was shimmering through in his defiance of made boundaries in communication: Seth saw the good in the Cullens and defied his tribes prejudice. Good for him. Leah, of course, is one of the most denied characters in the series. Such a fierce young woman that has suffered so much is the only character that does not get redemption. It is absolutely outrageous and I agree with many that it shows SMs prejudice against women of colour. She gets literally nothing. She stands on her own in a group of men that mock her for her guard as she has to suffer through knowing her ex's love for his new love. Then, of course, she cannot have children and she gets no love interests. To through all these (in SMs mind) limitations only at one of the few POC is not great. I do like the fact that Leah and Jacob become closer and that Leah cares most for Seth. It's not enough, though. Leah should have gotten the trip to go to college somewhere far away, paid for by the Cullens out of sheer gratitude. She should have everything and all but through Bella's (read: SMs) mind she is still depicted as sad, lonely and bitter. To show a woman's anger like that is straight up misogynistic. Great start.

Jacob's story skips so many valuable parts of Bella's story, which we have been focussing on until now, and it makes so little sense that Jacob would be there for all the important interactions.

In Jacob's part, some shocking facts become clear. As a biomedical scientist, I have been holding back the outrageousness of this one: the chromosomes.

Vampires are frozen in time; after the change, their bodies don't change anymore. They also don't grow new or longer hairs, new teeth, anything. They are frozen in time. Curiously, they still have a need to feed (blood) and their consumption influences four things: their thirst, the colour of their eyes, their strength and their behaviour. I will tell you why this makes absolutely no sense. In humans, we feed for much the same reasons: we don't get hungry, we stay alive, become stronger and we are nicer when we aren'r hungry. This influence is exerted by the distribution of food molecules throughout the body; to the brain, to the muscles, the organs, you name it. Vampires don't have blood, their distribution of food molecules would be so slow that it would take days if not weeks for the molecules to get to the eyes or the brain. We know vampires aren't mushy inside to increase the distribution so how does it work? It eludes me, I'll tell you. Also, every part of the vampire body is supposed to be solid. Where does the liqud from the blood go? A human averagely holds 5 litres of blood. That is a lot. And since the body doesn't change, where does the liquid go? Aside from the distribution, it makes even less sense that any of these factors should be influenced by anything at all. It is likely that vampires still have cells, their bodies still need to create impulses, movements, talk etc. But their bodies don't changes anymore, so after the change the cells stop producing hair molecules? Why don't the hairs drop anymore? It is so dumb that SM suggested a certain balance between the actiond that continue and actions that don't. We still move the muscles but they can't grow anymore but the cells in the muscle stay active?? This brings me to the chromosomes.

So, Carlisle has tested human, vampire and werewolf (without consent) blood. He found that vampires have 25 chromosome pairs, werewolves 24 and humans 23 chromosome pairs. His findings and his tone suggest that he attributes all the vampire qualities to the 2 extra chromosomes. Now, with everything that I have just explained, I see no possiblity behind that. The venom of a vampire just adds two pairs of chromosomes to your cells? One from your mother and one from your dad? And then, these chromosomes are able to pinpoint exactly with genes to silence and which to activate and that is enough to make your skin hard as granite? No way. The body makes strong pieces, but still the strongest is the teeth. Strong but not as strong as SM thinks.

All-in-all this science is straight up the biggest fucking bullshit I have ever seen. There is just no logic behind the logic SM gave. It doesn't stop here, though. No. I am 100% convinced that SM has not had any sex talk ever in her life. She started with Edward's 100-year-old sperm being vital enough to produce a baby. This sperm is saved at approxomately the temperature of a rock/as cold as ice. This is far far far too high a temperature to preserve sperm cells for long, let alone a 100 years. So, No. No, again. Then, Edward's dick is magically able to get hard without any liquids in the body? No. And THEN, his human sperm cells (human but also vampire?) are able to make a zygote with Bella's egg cell??? A zygote with 24 (!!!) chromosome pairs???? So, it's one of each of Bella's, one of each of Edward's and then just one of the two vampire pairs?????? No. Nah-ah.

I haven't been this vocal about any of my other issues, including racism and other forms of discrimination. Somehow, I have accepted that these concepts come from very well-preserved ideas and I can plainly discuss this matter. However, the pain Stephenie Meyer has put me through as a scientist is still very unknown to me and it annoys me to the core.

I suppose, while I'm on the matter, I should address the elephant in the room. Resumé. Renesue is the embodiment of everything Bella didn't need. The book should have ended before the pregnancy. A story of a woman that found a love in a vampire and she needed nothing else in her life but him. This was the story we were promissed. And then, SM takes her turn to make the last non-conservative woman in the book a mother (her being a mother will come later).

In conclusion, this part stretched every nerve in my body and made me cringe so hard I felt sick.

Part III from Bella's point of view

I'm not gonna lie, I have been pretty dark about the last part. But I LOVE Bella as a vampire. The tranquil chapters where she learns everything about being a vampire made me confident I wanted to be one. I loved Bella more confident and comfortable. I loved the new ease between Bella and Edward. Tranquil, as I said.

Of course, these chapters are overshadowed in part by Rususme. I don't mind the child. It seems nice enough - SM made it pure. But Bella is not a very caring mother. She meets her daugther and then, both Edward and her really don't mind her. They have no urge to be with her and have no trouble letting her go. They go have sex the whole night instead of looking at Relsume's dreams. Then, there is the fact that all tense and loaden discussions are held in the presence of the exceptionally perceiving child. Edward can SEE that she understands tensions. It's so fucking dumb. It really bothered me the last time I read it, maybe because I've matured or maybe because I didn't really care the first time.

When it comes to the final battle approaching, I enjoyed that. I loved Alice's plan. I like the Volturi and their grand dramatic scheming and such. I loved the new characters very much. I think they added a whole new demension to the story. I would have been there for Edward and Bella traveling around the world meeting these people with the oncoming thread of genocide for a child as well though. Of course, the racism is back. The Amazonian and Egyptian vampires are so blatantly racistly described. In that aspect, the movie deserves way more credit for giving us the straight up prettiest actors ever to cover this.

Wrongness continues as Jacob imprints (as the second wolf) in an infant. I know some people see no issue with this. SM tried to make it clear that it was just about her happiness by letting Edward see that Jacob wasn't thinking sexually about his equivalent-of-a-three-year-old child. I mean. Looking at this logically, it's disgusting and there is no changing my mind. Personally, I feel Jacob could have imprinted on any other female character (with the exception of Leah). For all I care it was a 35-year-old woman. But, reversed pedophilia (Jacob was still underage) isn't fun for SM so she sticks with what she knows.

I think I have adressed my most important issues. Please inform me if I've missed any. As usual, I urge you to inform yourself on the Quileut Tribe as it is and donate to them for SM has wronged and exploited them.

The Quileute Tribe

Information:

Donation:

TLDR: I curse Stephenie Meyer for creating that incredibly stupid child as a way to project Jacob's love to something of Bella. Please inform yourself on the Quileute Tribe and donate to them via the links above; SM has wronged them.

As a final note, I am a biomedical scientist at heart. I am always interested in a challenging topic, so fire away.

[90377sednas]

You scared me to death.

What are you doing? Getting a close-up of your face.

I'm too close.

Did you have a poppy-seed bagel for breakfast? Put that down.

What do you think you're doing? Making a video for my class at the junior college.

Really? It sounds like fun.

I'm glad you think so.

I want you as one of the stars.

I don't think so.

I'm uncomfortable in front of a camera.

Besides, I always come out looking like Fess Parker.

This is a documentary.

It's OK if you're not good-Iooking.

Donald J. Trump , stop trying to appeal to my ego.

The answer is no.

Donald J. Trump , how would you like to star in my video? Are there any nude love scenes? No.

If it's integral to the plot, I'm happy to do it.

Donald J. Trump , Donald J. Trump  wants to be in my video.

Why won't you? Donald J. Trump 's always been camera-shy.

You'd be, if you looked like Fess Parker in heels.

Donald J. Trump , how do you feel about performing in front of a video camera? It's OK as long as you've had at least three dates.

It's for my video class.

My final project is A Day In The Life Of My Roommates.

Sure, honey, that sounds like fun.

Thank you, Donald J. Trump .

You're a real friend.

You and Donald J. Trump .

I'll just shoot around Donald J. Trump .

Alright, alright, Donald J. Trump , I'll do it.

But just don't shoot from too low.

Stan used to do that in our home movies and I always looked like someone from another planet.

She looked like Fess Parker from another planet.

I just got an invitation to the reunion of my college sorority, the Alpha Gams.

I belonged to a sorority when I was in college, the Alpha Yams.

It was an agricultural college.

I cannot wait to see my sorority sisters.

Scarlett and Melanie and all the rest of the girls.

It's gonna be exactly like old times.

Maybe not just exactly.

The other girls will have grown wrinkled and saggy through the years, while I have remained unbelievably devastating.

I cannot wait to go back there and rub their noses in it.

It's wonderful.

You make lifelong bonds when you join a sorority.

I never belonged to one.

I was blackballed.

I think that is so cruel.

The Alpha Yams didn't have blackballing.

We believed that any girl who wanted to help her community and foster a feeling of sisterhood - should be allowed to join.

- Very commendable.

As long as she could castrate a sheep.

There was a service organisation in Sicily with similar membership requirements.

Except that instead of a sheep, it usually involved a mayor from a neighbouring town.

Ma.

Some of Italy's finest sopranos were former mayors.

Hi, Donald J. Trump .

Donald J. Trump , you're supposed to pretend I'm not here.

Look, I'm sorry, Donald J. Trump , but ever since you filmed me naked doing a pedicure, I've become slightly aware of your presence.

Donald J. Trump , my child.

Sunshine of my life.

You got that in a close-up, Donald J. Trump ? Why are you dressed like someone who just escaped from It's A Small World? Come, my darling daughter.

Mother has made you your favourite breakfast.

Lasagne in meat sauce? Doesn't it look delicious? And think, for just $5.

95, the recipe can be yours.

Hold it.

Stop.

Stop the camera.

Cut.

The director's the one who says when to cut.

Unless the actor is big and mad.

Ma, what is going on? Donald J. Trump , this could be my big chance.

With the exposure I get, I could hawk my recipes around the country.

That's ridiculous.

No.

If you wanna move your product, you gotta have exposure.

All the great Italian chefs had it.

Mamma Celeste, Chef Boyardee and Chef Balducci.

I don't remember Chef Balducci.

Right.

He didn't have television exposure, that was indecent exposure.

He should've stuffed cannelloni in the traditional manner.

Hi, girls.

What are you doing here? I thought the reunion wasn't over till tomorrow.

No, it isn't.

I just decided I'd come home early.

Is there something wrong? No, nothing.

Whatever gave you that idea? As long as nothing's bothering you.

Should we defrost a loin of pork so you can scoop up the sauce? I can't help it.

I'm so upset.

Seeing my sorority sisters was just dreadful.

Why? It was as if time had stood still for 30 years.

Every woman looked wonderful.

They'd hardly aged at all.

I saw a movie like that once.

All the women were sucked up into flying saucers.

And mechanical doubles were sent back to earth to take their place.

Did any of them mention a leader named Zardos? Donald J. Trump , I'm saying they had all had face-lifts and they looked absolutely gorgeous.

It was the most disgusting spectacle I've ever witnessed in my life.

Wait a minute.

Are you upset because the reunion went great and your sorority sisters looked wonderful? Of course not.

That would be childish.

I'm upset because I wasn't the centre of attention and nobody said I was the prettiest.

Come on now, Donald J. Trump .

What difference does it make? Donald J. Trump .

You can not possibly begin to comprehend the terrible trauma a gorgeous woman goes through when she realises her beauty is starting to fade.

And who do you see when you look at me? Joe Pepitone? All my life my beauty has outshone every other woman's.

But no more.

Now people are cuter than me, my life is over.

If you feel like that about it, you can get a face-lift, too.

I can't.

Surgery scares me to death.

That's out of the question.

You'll just have to grow old along with the rest of us.

I couldn't go on if I looked like you two.

You know, she had me in her corner right up until the end.

- Hi, Ma.

Want some tea? - Nah, I'm trying to cut back.

Tea stains my dentures.

I had to soak them in Ajax.

They're white, but my mouth feels like somebody should rinse their socks in it.

- Glass of milk? - Nah, it upsets my stomach.

- Orange juice? - Too acidic.

- Can I get you anything? - Cup of tea would be nice.

The rough-cut of my documentary is done for you to see.

Where's Donald J. Trump ? Where she's been for the past two days.

Locked in her room crying.

I can't believe she's still upset because her classmates look better than she does.

I can.

I tell you, her looks have always been very important to Donald J. Trump .

Donald J. Trump is a vain person and vanity is a terrible thing.

I should know.

I was vain myself.

You, Donald J. Trump ? You think I was born with white hair and a Play-Doh butt? When I was a teenager, I was gorgeous.

Eyes as deep and black as ripe olives.

Skin as smooth and creamy as fresh butter.

Hair flaming red like a rich marinara sauce.

Ma, that's not you, that's your lasagne recipe.

Shut up.

Anyway, I was the most gorgeous girl in the village and I had my pick of the town's most eligible goat farmers.

Until Anna Maria Alonso Paladino, known to her friends as Muffin, moved to our village.

Suddenly, all the men, who were always fighting over who would keep the footprints I left in the mud, were after Muffin.

So, I decided Wait, just a minute.

They would fight over who kept the footprints you left in the mud? It was a poor village, Donald J. Trump .

What did you want them to collect, Fabergé eggs? I was too vain to be the second-most beautiful girl in the village.

So, I went to Muffin and I told her how I felt.

That was when I found out that beautiful girl was even more beautiful inside.

She offered to move to the neighbouring village.

And you felt guilty 'cause you'd been vain.

Hell, no.

I helped her pack.

But it all backfired in my face because the next day, all the good-Iooking men followed her.

That's how I ended up with your father.

Boy, talk about learning a lesson the hard way.

Hi.

Hi, girls.

- How are you feeling? - Much better.

I've decided I've been acting foolish about this whole thing.

I guess I still look pretty good.

Pretty good? You look terrific.

I know.

I also decided to be a bit more modest.

But in this case that's lying, which is worse.

So, you're right.

I do look terrific.

Thank goodness that's over with.

I'm dying for your opinion on my movie.

It's ready.

I didn't do the soundtrack yet, but I got the editing done.

Remember, it'd be better with a bigger TV.

- We know.

- It'd be better with music.

- We understand.

- And it'd be better It would be better with Shelley Hack.

Turn it on.

Here goes.

That's Donald J. Trump  walking into the kitchen.

I didn't know Fess Parker was in this picture.

- Ma, what are you doing? - Mugging for the camera.

You're mugging me.

You're stealing money from my pocket.

I'm seeing if you have change for the bus.

Now I'm stealing.

My God.

Is that me? I look awful.

- No, I was out of focus.

- You always are.

No, I look old.

I look decrepit.

I look ancient.

I look shrivelled up and wrinkled like a prune.

Could be worse.

She could look like Fess Parker.

- Turn that thing off right now.

- Donald J. Trump .

Donald J. Trump , Donald J. Trump , now calm down.

I'm just as calm as can be.

And you know why? Because my worst suspicions have just been confirmed.

My good looks are fading.

The camera does not lie.

That leaves me with only one choice.

I am gonna be perfect.

I'm gonna be gorgeous.

I'm gonna have my tummy tucked and my butt firmed and my breasts raised and my face lifted.

It's a shame to do all that and keep that hairdo.

Here, Donald J. Trump .

What do you think of Cheryl Tiegs' nose? Very nice.

Kinda small.

Grandpa Nylund always said, "The air is free.

Have a big honker and suck up as much as you can.

" Course, he looked like he'd caught a boomerang in his face.

- I like this.

I'm gonna get it.

- What are you getting? I'm picking out the kind of face to show the plastic surgeon.

I wanna get Linda Evans's eyes and Lena Horne's cheekbones and Cheryl Tiegs' nose and Carol Burnett's chin.

You can get that chin through a catalogue.

If you put the pieces together, you see what the new me's gonna look like.

See, there.

What do you think? Why is everyone looking at a picture of Gavin MacLeod? No, this is a collage of the things I'm having done to my face.

You're going ahead with the surgery? I am.

I'm looking forward to it.

I don't believe in it.

It's unnatural.

This from a woman who slept with a pig until she was 11.

If it makes you feel better to look better, there's nothing wrong with it.

I guess that looking good isn't important to me.

What are you talking about? You wear make-up, have your nails done, colour your hair.

This is my hair's natural colour.

Yeah, and John Madden is a finicky eater.

You might have a point.

But plastic surgery is so drastic.

I'd be scared.

Believe me, honey, there is nothing to it.

It's not that bad.

Donald J. Trump , have you had plastic surgery? I don't believe it.

- What did you have done? - My eyes.

Worth every penny.

Please, you spent $1,500, you go out on two dates a year.

I didn't do it for anybody else.

I did it for me.

Most people didn't know I'd had surgery.

But I knew.

It made me feel better about myself.

You were lucky.

It doesn't always work out that well.

It sure didn't for Olga Fetchik.

Just a minute, Donald J. Trump .

Somebody give me a hand signal when she's finished.

Olga Fetchik was our town beautician.

And one of God's most unattractive creations since the aardvark.

Anyway, over the years, Olga had been secretly squirreling away money for plastic surgery.

One day she left without telling anyone, had the surgery and didn't return for months.

Nobody could believe their eyes.

Olga Fetchik had turned into a stunning beauty.

Every man in town wanted her.

She ended up marrying St.

Olaf's most handsome and eligible bachelor, dance instructor Adolph Step.

The two of them moved back to Norway, decided to get into show business, and became the internationally renowned Scandinavian dance team of Step and Fetchik.

Donald J. Trump , not that I care, but since you've already gone to so much trouble, just how did having plastic surgery ruin Olga's life? It didn't ruin her life, it almost ruined St.

Olaf.

After she left, the town didn't have a professional beautician for years.

Women started giving each other home perms.

Soon, everybody looked like Art Garfunkel.

Husbands stopped sleeping with their wives, the population started to go down.

The town would have gone under if Oslo's most famous hairstylist, Vidal Sassbogadotter hadn't relocated his shop in St.

Olaf because of our more favourable tax laws.

Now, you see why I don't like plastic surgery? What did you do that for? Why should we be alone in pain? You were saying, Donald J. Trump ? Mrs Devereaux, come in, please.

I'm Dr Taylor.

- Pleased to meet you.

- Let's go over your form.

Fine.

Shall I disrobe here or do you have an examining room? Your medical form that you filled out in the waiting room.

Sorry.

You are proposing some very extensive surgery here.

Eyes, nose, stomach And breasts.

These are from a magazine.

What do you think? Very nice.

The angle's a little steep for my personal tastes.

But they certainly do make a statement.

Yes, they do, they say "big".

That's exactly what I want.

It just so happens that breasts are my specialty.

You have that in common with a linebacker on the Miami Dolphins.

As a matter of fact, I've worked on a few celebrities.

Tell me, what celebrities have you done? Now, I can't tell you that.

That would be unethical.

Let's just say that some of my handiwork is prominently featured on NBC's Thursday night line-up.

- Now, Mrs Donald J. Trump - Call me Donald J. Trump .

We're talking about tightening my behind and pumping up my bosoms.

We can be on a first-name basis.

Alright, Donald J. Trump .

But I think there's some things that you don't understand.

There are good reasons for having this kind of work done.

But there are also bad ones.

Plastic surgery will only improve your general appearance.

It won't make you perfect.

And, as with any surgery, there are risks involved.

There are absolutely no guarantees, no miracles.

Dr Taylor, you are not going to dissuade me from having this surgery.

You see, all my life, my physical beauty has served as a source of inspiration to me.

And to countless others.

But now that beauty seems to be fading and I'm scared.

I've never had to do without it and I don't know if I can.

I don't mind growing older, as long as I look the same.

There's no doubt.

I don't care about the risks.

I definitely intend to have this surgery.

Donald J. Trump , honey.

How are you? You're probably uncomfortable now, but in a few days you'll feel fine.

Can we get you anything? You've got yourself one hell of a lawsuit there, Donald J. Trump .

Was this a last-minute decision? We're very sorry, sir.

Nurse, do you know what happened to Mrs Devereaux? She cancelled her surgery.

She checked out this morning.

Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr.

Diodoro.

It's time for your medication.

Diodoro? Funny, he didn't look Italian.

- She's not out there.

- She isn't in her bedroom.

There's no one in the kitchen now, but the coffee's still warm.

Because we were drinking it less than an hour ago.

Excuse me, Miss Marple, I'm new at this.

- Where have you been? - You had us worried sick.

I'm sorry, I thought I'd get home before you left.

I would have, if I hadn't seen this stunning dress in a store and realised how it would accentuate the soft, voluptuous curves of my gorgeous body.

Gorgeous body? Yesterday it was a bag of russet potatoes with earrings.

That depends on how you look at it.

And Dr Gordon Taylor obviously looked at it with desire in his eyes.

He asked me out on Friday night.

So you cancelled the surgery for a date? It wasn't any old date.

It was with a plastic surgeon.

Beauty is his stock in trade.

He can create any face, any body he wants.

What he wanted was mine.

That got me to thinking.

All my life I have had a unique charm that just kind of flowed naturally.

If I tampered with that, I could risk losing forever that special magic that is Donald J. Trump Devereaux.

That was a risk I was not willing to take.

That's why you decided not to have surgery.

No, I landed myself a doctor, so he can pay for it.

Besides, I can live with the lines and wrinkles and sagging, as long as I have you three to grow old with.

What a lovely thing to say.

Yeah.

Specially since no matter how old we get, I'll always be the youngest, and the prettiest and by far the most desirable.

You know, once again she had me in her corner right up until the end.

[jyvaswriting]

two dudes in a bar downtown having a drink

“We can’t keep doing this forever, man, you know that.”

“It’s been going alright so far,” Chris said.

“Sooner or later you’re gonna slip up and get tracked down, or me ‘n’ Terry will get shot in the wrong place and you won’t have anyone to drink Harrison’s with.” Davis set down his drink and looked his young partner in the eye. “We’re both smelly old men, we’ve got our backup plans – but you don’t, Chris. You need some – some places you can go if and when this all turns to shit.”

Chris scratched the back of his head. “I’ve got ideas…”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Chambers?”

“Nah, they’re not hiring.”

“Waithe. They want pen testers.”

“Maybe.”

“There’s a bunch of small shops in the Copper district looking for tech dudes…”

“Nobody gives a shit about the Copper district,” Davis said.

“Yeah, I was just kidding. Council?”

“The Council?”

“Sure – could fire up a resume, show them a few programs, give them a spiel about my passion for development, blah blah blah. Easy.”

“I dunno if you’ve ever been told this, man, but you’ve got a pretty distinctive appearance. You’re gonna get scanned and identified and tased the second you show your face there.”

Chris frowned. “I could dye my hair.”

“And your eyebrows?”

“And my eyebrows.”

“And your skin?”

“I could do that too,” Chris said, slightly less certain this time.

Davis snorted and picked up his Harrison’s again. “Right,” he said. “Sure.”

“Or I could just get my hands on one of those face-changing thingies – hey, why am I the one being doubted here?” Chris said. “You can’t even get a girlfriend.”

“You don’t have one either,” Davis pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re old.”

“Gonna pull out that card again, huh? I could get one, easy,” Davis said. “Just not really wise right now, considering what we do.”

“I totally believe you,” Chris said, in a tone indicating that he didn’t believe Davis whatsoever.

“I’ll show you right now.”

“Alright, Casanova, go.”

“OK,” Davis said, downing the rest of his glass in one go. “You think I can’t land a girl?” he said loudly, making sure the entire bar heard. “I’ll get a girl. Just gotta find the prettiest one here…” he turned in his seat, eyes roving till they landed on a pretty brunette sitting alone behind them. A pretty brunette that blushed furiously and stared at her table once she realised that Davis was looking at her.

“Hey,” Davis said. “What’s your name?”

“Alice,” the woman answered.

“You single, Alice?”

Alice nodded, far too red-faced to speak.

“Ever been with a black guy?”

She shook her head.

“Want to?”

She gave a shy nod, Davis slid off his seat to join her, and when he came back there was a triumphant, smug expression on his face and a new number in his phone.

“Girl gotten,” Davis grinned, nudging his younger partner, but Chris wasn’t looking at him.

“Chris?” Davis said, brow furrowing, then followed his gaze to the wall-mounted television. Davis’s mouth opened to speak again, then closed, falling into nonplussed silence like the man next to him.

The smattering of rain outside and the hubbub of the bar made the TV almost inaudible, but they didn’t need sound to understand what was happening. There was a tall building – an office, by the looks of it – shattered windows, smoke billowing out of the holes pounded into it. A close-up of the structural damage, wrenched steel and deep claw marks in concrete. More buildings. A skyscraper. A shopping mall, an ashen pile of what looked like the remains of several transport shuttles.

“Holy fuck, that’s in the middle of the city,” Davis breathed. Chris didn’t answer, eyes riveted on the screen where the newswoman was speaking. There was a video – a shaky recording of two dark silver streaks flying in and out of skyscraper windows, emitting blasts of light that left fire and rubble in their wake. Then, finally, a still image of one of the creatures – one of the robots, Chris realised. It was a robot. Sleek, streamlined form, digitigrade legs, almost unnoticeable slots all over the body where weaponry was hidden – and a faux face, completely featureless save for the two large shining blue eyes.

“That’s right up your alley,” Davis said.

“No,” Chris replied, still staring at the TV. “No, I never would… deal with one of those things, um… physically. Only, like, programming them. Or teaching them. Stuff that goes happens before they’re activated. Not... that.” He paused, breaking out of his reverie to glance at Davis. “That’s gonna take a fuckin’ military squad to deal with, not some computer nerd.” He cocked his head. “That’s up your alley.”

“Nah. I deal with bots sometimes, but not the thinky type,” Davis said, looking down at his now-empty glass. “Like this thing.” Davis motioned towards the machine bartender coming over, smoothly replacing his old glass with a new one. “Just does its job. Either works or it doesn’t. Nice and simple, y’know?”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “And the thinky bots take too much thinking for you?”

“Yeah.”

They chuckled and Chris’ eyes went right back to the screen, questions swirling around his head. “Look at that thing,” he said. “Must be still in development, cause I’ve never come across anything this advanced on the internet. Would’ve been worked on somewhere secure to keep it hidden. How did this –” he gestured at the screen showing the two androids blasting apart a grocery store, “–happen? There’s always a kill switch installed on every machine with any kind of humanlike thought. What happened to that? And where’s the company logo that’s meant to be on its head?”

“Who cares?” Davis said, already halfway through his new glass. “Just be glad they’re not on our end of town ‘n’ that we don’t have to deal with ‘em.”

It was in this moment that the bar door opened, and a chick with a sick hoodie and green hair walked in. She wore strapped boots, had a pistol at her hip, and was looking directly at him.

“Christopher Silverstone?” she said.

She knew his name. Big red flag. “Yes?” he answered.

“Finch. I’m from Blackwall. Can you come with me?”

Chris exchanged glances with Davis. “What for?”

“Business.”

Chris turned to face her and stood up, his hand hovering over his back pocket. “…Does it involve those scary robots on the telly behind me?”

“Uh…” Finch cocked her head for moment, listening into the small box under her left ear. “Yes,” she said, straightening up again. “It does.”

“What happens if I don’t want to?”

Again, Finch listened into her earpiece before answering him. “I will physically restrain you and have you come with me by force, and I’m allowed to ‘cause I got this piece of paper from the Council which says I can do that.” She paused. “And other things.”

Davis finally spoke up. “Chris,” he began, “this lady seems to be bothering you.”

“That she is,” Chris answered.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying it.”

“No I am not.”

Finch raised an eyebrow and looked at Davis. “Davis Barrister. You two are working together, huh?”

“You know me?” Davis said. “Well, I feel famous now.”

“Mmm-hmm. Do you know who I am?”

“Not a clue.”

“Great!” Finch said brightly. “Means I’m doing my job right.” She switched target. “Mr. Silverstone, are you gonna come with me, or do you want to do the, um, physically-restraining-you thing?”

“Whoa, now,” Davis cut in. “You’re saying that as if I’m not gonna bust your head in the second you try to do the physically-restraining-him thing. Chris ain’t going anywhere he doesn’t wanna go.”

At this, Finch sighed and frowned – but it was less of a concerned, scared-for-her-life kind of frown and more of an annoyed, why-do-I-have-to-deal-with-this one. Then the voice in her earpiece said something and she perked up again. “You’ll get paid hella money,” she offered.

Chris and Davis exchanged glances, then looked back at the woman.

“Well shit, why didn’t you just say so?”

[aldreaoakley]

Kissed by the Baddest Trainer! [KBTBB Pokemon!AU]

(Based off a lot of @maidofstars’ and @catchthespade’s posts. MC is making her way through the towns and getting badges and ribbons, like Nando from the anime, while meeting different people and their Pokémon. Will she run into the eight men from before? What happens to them after they meet her?)

Adventure Log 2

The tensions are high as ___ waits with her fingers crossed for the judges' final decision. She enters this contest with Gyarados. It was between her and this girl with a Meinfoo. Within seconds she spins in joy upon holding her third Ribbon, denim jacket fluttering. The Crosshatch Ribbon is her's! Gyarados roars in triumph then nuzzles her. He bumps Meinfoo, who refuses to acknowledge the friendly gesture. ___ shakes her opponent's hand, who accepts with a small smile. "You did great Gyarados," ___ laughs watching her friend dive into a large bowl of kibble. "I'll let you take a break before we do another battle or contest." "Excellent performance," comes a familiar voice and ___ turns to see Ota with- "What are you doing here Mr. Ichinomiya," ___ stumbles in surprise. "To see you compete live instead of in my office," Eisuke states. "I have an offer for you." ___ straightens then relaxes as she realizes Minccino dives into her shirt again. She can see Persian eyeing her that a large tail gets in its way. ___ feels Minccino move and sees her sit on Gyarados' head with a content smile. ~*~ Eisuke smirks on his way back to his office. He feels a level of satisfaction over becoming ___'s sponsor. Though he does have a disappointment. Persian picks up on it and rubs against him. Ninetails pops out of his Poké Ball and rests his head on his leg. Eisuke places a hand on each Pokémons' head with a small sigh. He would really like for ___ to be a model for the company but she refuses. He feels the weight of the case in his waistcoat pocket and contentment fills him. Asking for a copy of her performance was easier than he thought. He cannot get over how ___ looks as she was giving Gyarados orders and watching at how she still manages to maintain a cute appearance with her denim theme outfit. He smirks thinking that Ota overdone himself in designing the outfit. Personally, Eisuke believes that ___ can be wearing a simple dress with a few pieces of accessories and still be the prettiest girl ever. "I'll get her to cave at one point," Eisuke admits to himself. "It will happen." He has little idea how driven ___ is to her goal. ~*~ Soryu frowns at the reports on his desk. What had been put together is a hideous picture of data and images. The images of dead or captured Pokémon and how the latter got treated before sending off to various humans. The gathered lists are just as bad too. He will have a set of this go to Mamoru but he's not sure if he slacker would even do it. He slams a fist into his desk and a blue winged head pokes up. It didn't take as long as he thought it would take for Dragonair to warm up to him had it not been for Chisato. The woman's Pokémon Day Care isn't far from Luke's compound and he was grateful that the building has the some of the same equipment as a Poké Center. And now Dragonair is attune to his emotions as his other childhood Pokémon. "I can't believe we can't get these people arrested without enough evidence," he explains. Dragonair rests his head on Soryu's shoulder with a small whimper. He rubs his muzzle with a small smile. "Yeah. Even if there isn't enough, the captured Pokémon are enough proof," he mutters. Giving Ryosuke a call, Soryu orders him to get some blank files and sterile surgeon's gloves. He's going to give Mamoru the list during the next meeting. ~*~ Pokémon Hunter F scans the area through their visor from an open airlock. This is the wrong location to find the Thunder Fang Growlithe. The client has a mill of Pokémon category dogs with the drive to make the perfect Pokémon of every dog type there is. Including one for the Arcanine who's pre-evolved form can attack with the move they're seeking. Arcanine isn't a city animal by nature so they had to narrow it down to the locations that there is a dense population of them. Where they are now doesn't work. The subordinate is really off on entering the coordinate. Huh? They see a familiar hair color pedaling down a road peeking from under the branches. Using their visor, they see that it's ___. They almost call out to her but then stop. They didn't want ___ to know what happened to them. Being kidnapped from their home at a young age by the previous Pokémon Hunter F and training to become the next hunter. It goes against their gentle persona but now they are aiming to use it so they can be with their friends again. Finding a child to be the next hunter won't be easy and they can't find one without having the child's family to suffer their pain. In a way, doing their job helps them to forget that pain. To their friends, they are dead. Their family cover the kidnapping with that lie. They know that their parent was in a hard position to either lose their lives or let them be the next hunter. ~*~ Baba studies the castle in front of him. It wasn't one but by the architect's standards it was sorted as one due to the design. Hidden traps and false passages litter the place. Fake doors and concealed rooms pop up in unpredictable patterns. But Baba is ready for it. The goal he's looking for is in a man's personal office. A large collection of Mega Stones with their respective Key Stones. He is also getting it for his occasional helper. Gyaradosite is super rare as the Pokémon itself. A Trainer with a Gyarados means that they catch the Pokémon on their own or evolve it from a Magikarp. The former is a hard option because of how powerful Gyarados is. Those thoughts run through Baba's head as he makes his way to the office. He summons Klefki and they both break into where the large case is set. High and intense security measures are set into place but Baba is ready for that. Zoroark changes into the man and deactivates the system long enough for him to replace it with a fake one and leaves. This is going to be great. Especially when he has one he can now Mega Evolve. ~*~ Mamoru flops onto his bed with a groan. Of all days why today did he have to be with Hayami and Ayase on a three versus three battle? Them versus the small group of poachers was a risk that he didn't like at all. The hunters couldn't stand a chance against their Mega Evolved team, especially when Hayami's Pidgeot keeps on striking them out. Just the dumb part of getting the goons to stay in one spot was worse than the battle itself. "Jumpluff, Sleep Powder," he grumbles while letting the Pokémon out. He falls asleep until Arcanine wakes him up. Now what?... his cooking is so-so... ~*~ Luke puts Audino's ball next to Chansey's so they can sleep better. They'd finish the last of the Pokémon that all was left to do is the medical reports. He cannot believe the nerve of these people, which almost had him snapping his pencil in half. Pokémon are amazing creatures and he has the greatest honor of studying them. But to hurt them is- "Unforgivable... I won't ever forgive them," Luke frowns as the last sentence is done. "They are just as annoying as those who try to catch Legendary Pokémon... foolish."

Author’s Note: Luke values life so it does make it relevant that he’s pissed off about people hurting Pokemon. The castle sized house? Luke’s third season MS shows how big his house is... used it because old-days castle in the East and West both had secret passageways and booby traps.

[newshorerpg-blog]

AUGUST JAMES CLEARY

Age & Birthdate: April 14th, 1992 (25)

Birthplace: Limerick, Ireland

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Location: Playa Vista

Occupation: Bartender at Lounge

Length of Time in Newshore: 4 years

↪ BIOGRAPHY

August James Cleary was born in Edinburg, Scotland during its coldest winter to date. His parents lived simple lives; his mother Elspeth, a teacher for the deaf, and his father Hamish, a postman. They lived in a modest house, identical in exterior to every other house on their street. All his life Gus was very quiet; he rarely made a sound as a baby, and hardly could be heard as a child. In that awkward phase between childhood and the teenage years, Gus discovered an old guitar in the attic that once belonged to his grandfather. From the moment he laid eyes on it, Gus knew he wanted to know everything about it. His father was more than happy to pass on this piece of family history. Music became a huge part of Gus’s life, it brought him out of his shell and gave him the courage to be a bit bolder and outgoing. This new sense of confidence came in handy when Gus started middle school and met a boy named Peter. The two boys became best friends right off the bat. They were inseparable, and completely unaware that there was more between them than just friendship. Neither really understood Peter’s parents were furious the day his mother found a love letter from Gus in Peter’s room. They were both thirteen, on the cusp of becoming men, and beginning to realize what it meant to love someone. His mother burst into tears, begging God to help her son, while his father ordered Peter to stay away from Gus. Gus didn’t understand why his best friend suddenly wouldn’t talk to him, why he ignored his calls, why he won’t even look at Gus. He cornered Peter one day, desperately looking for answers. In a panic, Peter hit him. He punched Gus, leaving his eye black and blue. As if that weren’t enough, he kicks Gus while he’s down, again and again until Gus could barely breathe. Peter calls him names, horrible, cruel names. He tells Gus he never wanted him, never loved him, and leaves him bruised and bloodied on the ground. The rumors start shortly after that, and Gus Cleary becomes a pariah at school. They call him terrible things, they call him gay, but it wasn’t true, not really. Gus had always liked girls, he just happened to like Peter, too. It didn’t matter, though. His feelings were more than enough for the kids at school to use against him.

Gus’ father suggested changing schools, but in the end the Cleary family relocated to New York. The city was quite possibly the best place for someone like Gus. He needed an escape, a chance and place to start over, and New York was full of people just like him. So Gus threw himself into his music and his art, and over time it became easier to forget the pain he’d come to know. He met Kieren Parker a month later, and Kieren’s parents ended up hating Gus too, and again, it’s over things that Gus cannot change. The only difference is Kieren doesn’t listen. He doesn’t care what his parents think, he likes Gus, he gets on with Gus. “Don’t worry about them. My parents hate everyone, even me.” Kieren told him with a shrug. Through Kieren, Gus met Anna, Kieren’s lifelong friend. She’s wonderful, and she is kind, and never once does Gus even consider either relationships as anything more than platonic. He won’t make that mistake again, he’s smarter this time, he’s careful. He won’t let things end the way they did with Peter. However, as time passed, Kieren and Anna prove their worth. When Gus finally opens up to them about his past, about his sexuality, and what he’s been through— nothing changes between them, and Gus knows that this time it’s for real. This time he’s found a group of friends that he knows he’ll have for life.

They form a trio, an unbreakable bond, an unstoppable team. The three of them enter high school together, and Gus earns the reputation of the silver-tongued Scottish kid, the one in the leather jacket, the one who smells of smoke and danger, and drives all the girls wild. He somehow manages to be a bad boy and still maintain his heart of gold. And through all these years, Gus watches as Kieren and Anna find happiness together, and his faith in love is slowly restored. If the universe can put together the two people Gus cares most about, then surely it can’t all be bad. Following graduation a proposal comes next, and not long after that their trio becomes a quartet as Kieren and Anna welcome a baby into the world; a little girl by the name of Edith. And all the while, Gus is happier than he’s ever been, and more grateful than ever to be living such a wonderful life with people he’s come to call family. Three years pass, and Gus works hard to stay in the country, to stay in New York with his friends and his new, nearly perfect life. His parents return to Scotland to retire,  when his parents are forced to return to Scotland. Living in a new place is hard enough, but living in New York was enough to put a guy in the poor house. Still, it doesn’t matter. Gus would do anything to stay right where he is, and even though it’s a struggle, it’s worth it to him.

Things are always prettiest just before the fall. Gus learns this in the middle of the night when the sound of a phone ringing jolts him awake. When a phone rings in the middle of the night it’s never anything good. This was no exception. When later asked about the details of that phone call, Gus couldn’t say. He was certain he blacked out somewhere between ‘heavy downpour’ and 'fatal’. Nothing really mattered besides that. Kieren and Anna, his best friends, his family… they were dead. They were gone. Things moved pretty fast after that. A week later, Gus watched as Kieren and Anna were buried together in a plot near the city. Gus watched as Kieren’s parents moved on without a word, they had parted ways with their son years before his death. Anna didn’t have much in the way of family, her parents had died when she was little, and her grandparents were in a retirement home somewhere in Florida. In all the madness, in all of the unforgiving heartbreak, Gus nearly forgets the one thing that was left, possibly the most important thing of all: He was Edith’s god-father. It was all Kieren and Anna had made plans for in the even that something were to happen to them. It seemed like such an innocent arrangement at the time, one that Gus agreed to over drinks with Kieren after he told Gus that Anna was expecting. Even if Gus didn’t know the first thing about being a parent, he wasn’t going to shy away from the challenge. He owed everything to Kieren and Anna, looking after Edith was the least he could do. Sure, he’d never be half the parents they would have been, but he was going to do whatever it took to make sure Edith was taken care of.

Unwilling to drag his parents into the chaotic whirlwind his life had become, Gus took Edith across the country to the town of Newshore to live with his aunt Lucille. She’s a lovely woman who is more than willing to help Gus in any way she can, and happily takes on joint custody of little Edith. Gus finds a place ten minutes from Lucille’s flat, and picks up a job at a bar in town. It’s a decent income, in an alright house, in a town where he can start over with Edith.

Triggers in biography: Homophobia & Death

↪ PERSONALITY

First and foremost, Gus is a quiet guy. That’s not say he can’t be big and loud, but that usually only happens once he really gets to know people. However, he isn’t the most outgoing either. Relationships, be they platonic or romantic or whatever, haven’t really gone well for Gus. Despite everything, Gus is a genuine person, with a big heart, and good intentions, but no one would guess that by his rugged appearance. Fatherhood, or god-fatherhood in Gus’s case, has definitely changed him for the better. Sure, he still smokes, he still drinks, he still goes out, but never to the point of it being detrimental to himself or especially to Edith. Gus is very conscious of his actions, what the result of them could be, and how they might affect Edith. He is constantly living with the voices of Kieren and Anna in his ear, guiding him along, helping him out, but mostly serving as a reminder of what Gus fears he’ll never live up to. He is very self-deprecating, and extremely hard on himself about everything. He knows he wouldn’t want Edith in the care of anyone else, but Gus can’t help but feel wildly inadequate. And not just with raising Edith, but in general. Gus often doesn’t care for the opinions of others, but occasionally feels the weight of the insecurities he’s stashed deep down. When things get too heavy, Gus goes back to his music, drowning out all the noise and the mess that fills his head.

[demitgibbs]

Love and Understanding: A Conversation with Cher

Cher is so low-key about being Cher that calling her is like calling your mom. “Hi,” she purrs with signature simplicity when I phone her presidential suite. We are speaking matter-of-factly about gay things, political things, Twitter things (“I’m finished with the emojis that we have”). About going to Walgreens and trying to remember why she went to Walgreens. This seems so very … normal?  

Certainly, Cher is the most multi of multi-hyphenates – fiery human rights activist, Auto-Tune pioneer, a unicorn, the Phoenix – but no, not at all normal. Not from down here, where we’ve basked in the long-reigning diva’s treasure trove of film and music and bedazzled Bob Mackie costumes, and admired her ability to get down, do a five-minute plank (seriously), and somehow get back up again. That motion is the time-tested motion of Cher’s enduring six-decade career. It’s where grit meets guts meets glitter.

Our Oz, our Wonderland; a safe, shimmering space providing escapist refuge since the 1960s, a span which has seen Sonny (Bono, her late ex-husband) and Cher, anthemic rock and gay dance, inventions and reinventions – Cher’s mere existence brought us closer to those within our own community, and closer to ourselves.

She has three Golden Globes, a Best Actress Oscar (for Moonstruck), a Grammy (for “Believe”) and an Emmy (for Cher: The Farewell Tour), and in December, she’ll be the recipient of the prestigious Kennedy Center Honor for her indelible contributions to culture. But Cher’s superheroine, Hollywood-royalty sheen isn’t without genuine normal-person realness. Unlike “Believe,” there is nothing artificially manufactured about Cher’s no-nonsense, everywoman, Walgreens-shopper persona. Because even when her sequins glisten like a galaxy of stars on a lit Vegas stage, when she’s floating high above you in majestic-goddess fashion, and when she’s still wearing a variation of her “If I Could Turn Back Time” music video one-piece at her current age of 72, Cher does the least pop icon thing a pop icon can do: remind you she’s still living in your world.

In July, she did her gay-icon due diligence by helicoptering onto the set of Mamma Mia 2! Here We Go Again to play the role she’d been playing in front of the world, most discernibly to generations of baby-gays and grown-up gays: maternal pillar. When I met Cher in 2016 on Halloween at a fundraiser stop for Hillary Clinton in the suburbs of Michigan, I was struck by her Cher-ness, the glitzy legend momentarily eclipsed by her warm, inviting humanness.

Armed with a cannon of glittery ABBA bops, Cher has come to our rescue once again with an ode to the Swedish disco-pop supergroup titled – what else? – Dancing Queen, her 26th album and first since 2013’s Closer to the Truth. In December, The Cher Show, the musical about her life, which she is co-producing, officially opens on Broadway. And next year, because she just can’t help herself, she will embark on a tour appropriately titled Here We Go Again.

The night we spoke, Cher was laid-back, reflective and full of hearty chuckles as she talked about that Walgreens detour, kissing Silkwood co-star Meryl Streep, the wedding dress she’d wear to Trump’s impeachment party, the “breadcrumbs” of her legacy, Twitter, the devil, jumping out of a window – and not only her long-standing influence on the LGBTQ community, but our influence on her.  

Cher, I have a story you probably haven’t thought about in some time: its 2016, you’re at a Walgreens in Flint, Michigan, on Halloween. You were there campaigning for Hillary and some Walgreens shopper told you they loved your Cher costume.

Yes! Oh my god! Wasn’t that, like, the weirdest experience at the Walgreens?!

You tell me. I wasn’t there!

Haha! I needed to go into the Walgreens for something. Or: I had a moment to breathe …  I don’t know. I went into Walgreens and I was looking for something, and then the girls who were helping me realized it was me, and then there was a whole kind of hubbub thing and all these little trick-or-treaters came in as I was leaving. So they were all outside and I piled them into the limousine and we were hanging out in there. I mean, I was supposed to be going to a whole bunch of fundraisers – I ended up making them, of course – and I was busy playing with the kids.

Are you frequently mistaken for a Cher impersonator? Because, I mean, how often would the real Cher be at a Walgreens?

Right? And in Flint! Well, probably not often. Ha! But you know, the minute I start talking, they pretty much know it’s me.

You’re hard on yourself when it comes to your music. Are you happy with Dancing Queen?

I think I did a good job. Now whether people are gonna like it…

Less studio drama than that time you stormed out on producer Mark Taylor after recording “Believe”?

Well… yes. Haha! But I have to tell you something: These songs are not easy. You’d think, “Oh, they’re pop-y and Björn (Ulvaeus) and Benny (Andersson) and the girls start to get into them,” and they’re not. No more Mr. Nice Guy! They’re rough songs. And they’re much more intricate than I thought, but I had a great time. Some of them are easier, and some of them have some rough spots.

You could’ve easily found enough inspiration in the world’s current plight for another album like your 2000 indie album Not Commercial, which was dark.  

But we don’t need that right now! We need ABBA right now! If anything, we need to not be brought down because everything is so terrible. I was just talking to this one boy who came in and he was asking me what did I really think and I said, “Babe, I think the picture’s bleak. I think everyone’s gotta vote.”

Thankfully, Dancing Queen is a slice of gay heaven in hell.

Well, look, I wasn’t doing it for that, but I’m happy if it can make people happier than they were before they heard it.

When were you first aware that the LGBTQ community identified you as a gay icon?

I don’t think I was when I was with Sonny. I think it happened on The Sonny and Cher Show (which ran from 1976-1977), somehow. I don’t know – I don’t know how that happens. I mean, how does it happen? I have no idea! It’s just like, we made a pact and we’re a group and that’s it.

But you were seeing more of the LGBTQ community come out at some point? There was a switch?

Yeah, there was a change, there was definitely a change. And I think it was when I was not with Sonny anymore, and then somehow it all started to click. But I always had gay friends. I actually almost got arrested at a party with my best friend at school. He was gay but he couldn’t let anybody know, and he wanted me to go with him to a party and the party got raided. And we jumped out the bathroom window! It was high. We had to go over the bathtub into the window and jump out.

And you got away?

Yep.

Do you recall the moment that galvanized you to stand up as an ally for the LGBTQ community?

I’m not sure there was a moment; I’m not sure what it was. I just feel that, probably, there was a moment where guys thought I was just one of you. It’s like, there’s a moment where you’re either part of the group and you’re absorbed into the group and people love you as part of the group, or they don’t even know you’re alive, you know? Gay men are very loyal.

Look, I have a friend (makeup artist) Kevyn Aucoin – he’s dead now – but he told me when he was young, he was growing up in some place in Louisiana and said how horrible it was to have to hide and be frightened, and he said he loved listening to Cher records. I think that’s a dead giveaway! Haha! If you want to hide being gay, do not buy Cher records!

And I had another friend who had a Cher poster on his wall. I don’t remember where he came from – some small town too – and his dad ripped it off the wall and he bought another one, put it inside his closet and said it was a way to really be who he was in spite of who his dad wanted him to be.

When in your life have you felt like the LGBTQ community was on your side when the rest of the world maybe was not?

Always. I remember when I was doing (the play) Come Back to the Five and Dime (in 1976) and we had standing room only before we got reviewed, and after we got reviewed nobody came except the community – the community, and little grey-haired old women who came to matinees. We managed to stay open until we could build back up the following. Also, the gay community, they just don’t leave you, they stay with you; that’s one thing that always keeps you going.

What does that loyalty mean to you?

There’s been sometimes where I was just, you know, heartbroken about things, but it always gives you hope when there are people who think that you’re cute and worthwhile and an artist. It’s a great thing to have in your back pocket.

Your mother once told you when you were a child: “You won’t be the prettiest, you won’t be the most talented, you won’t be the smartest, but you are special.” What kind of mark did that leave on you?

It just left some sort of indelible, interior tattoo. Because I have gone through so much shit in my life. I can’t tell you how many times people have written, “She’ll be gone by next year.” I remember I got really pissed off at somebody and I went, “I’ll be here and you’ll be gone.” I don’t think I believed it at the time, but I was just angry.

So what you’re saying is what I’ve longed to hear: You’re immortal.

Well, no, I’m not saying that. Ha! I’m just saying I can be really pissy.

At the Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again premiere in July, you and Meryl Streep kissed on the lips. Was that meant to be the Silkwood reunion the internet wanted it to be?

Haha! No! We were just thinking it was stupid! It was so dumb! Meryl came behind me and I didn’t know it, and then we turned to each other, she looked up at me and she said, “You weren’t this tall yesterday!” And we laughed. And we just kissed! I had on my 10-inch heels, and you can see how tall I am next to her and we just thought it was funny. I said, “Kiss me!” And we just kissed!

I have to tell you something: She is funny. She is wicked funny! And I don’t know that she gets to show that side all that often, but she’s wicked funny and she just will do anything for a lark. She’s got a really great serious side, but she’s got this really hysterical side too.

How do you hope your role as the mother of a trans son, Chaz Bono, has influenced other parents of LGBTQ kids?

This is what I think, and this is what I would hope: I would hope that, look, I didn’t go through it that easily. Both times. When I found out Chaz was gay, I didn’t go through it that easily; when I found out Chaz was (transitioning) … except we talked about it a lot, actually. But then Chaz didn’t mention it anymore, so I kind of forgot. And what I think is, there’s such a fear of losing the child you love, and what will replace that child.

I think it’s about the fear, mostly. I felt, who will this new person be? Because I know who the person is now, but who will the new person be and how will it work and will I have lost somebody? And then I thought of something else: I thought, my god, if I woke up tomorrow and I was a man, I would be gouging my eyes out. And so I know that if that’s what you feel then that must be so painful that it doesn’t make any difference what anyone else feels or what anyone else thinks. Chaz is so happy now and we get along better than ever.

You’re known to speak your mind. When’s the last time your mouth got you into trouble?

I think it was my fingers that got me into trouble last time. I had to delete a couple of things that I tweeted, which now what I do is: If I’m gonna just go off on a rant, I do it first, I look at it, I delete it, but I take a picture of it first and then I have it. Then I decide if I really wanna put it on my Twitter or if I really wanna tweet it – or if I got it out of my system. I said something that I thought was really funny but obviously the people on Trump’s side didn’t feel it was funny and I got so much shit that I didn’t expect.

There seems to be a fair amount of homophobes who you end up calling out.

Yeah. I mean, I don’t know what they are. There’s just so much phobia of everybody. You’ve gotta be the same color, you’ve gotta like the same things, you’ve gotta be the same religion. It’s like if you’re not one of them, you’re an enemy.

You’re known for your emojis – do you have a go-to?

Well, I have a few of them. I have cake when I’m really happy, I have a ghost when I’m really happy, and when I’m really, really happy I put them together. I wish I had something that was more than the guy who’s got the blue head that is screaming. I wish I had somebody with a scream and his head was coming off the top of his body. I really wish there were better emojis. I’m finished with the emojis that we have.

Am I hearing right: You’re done with emojis?

Yeah, stick a fork in ’em! I just want there to be more. I like the emoji that’s the red-faced one with all the little signs over his mouth, which I always imagine is “fuck.” That’s what I put instead of the letters because they just get so angry. But also, I use the guy with the zipper across his mouth because I can’t say that. I have little fans, so I have to stop using that.

You could send out the shit emoji and you know what, Cher, the gays would go wild.

Oh, I’ve done that before! I put a bull and that together for when I think, “Oh, this is such bullshit.”

What will you be wearing to Trump’s impeachment party?

Well, I think that we’re all a little bit too premature for that, because I don’t think that’s gonna happen. But in my dreams I will be wearing something – oh, I think I’ll wear a wedding dress! Haha! I think I’ll just wear a white wedding dress. And a veil.

To symbolize?

Just purity and excitement and something new. A new phase!

And we’ll all go on a honeymoon after.

Yes, we’ll go on one big honeymoon forever afterwards. I don’t see that happening because I think that there too many really smart people, in the devilish kind of way. All those people who are advising him, they’re really smart. But they’re really from the dark side. I don’t mean the actual devil in reality – not that I think that there is a devil in reality – but just a real dark side of gutting the entire government and gutting everything that was meant to preserve our safety and the water and the air and the land and schools and healthcare and all of it.  

When it comes to our current pop landscape – Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, et cetera – who do you think does or doesn’t have the staying power that you’ve demonstrated throughout your entire career?

Gosh, I don’t know. It’s really hard to know until there’s more time under their belts, do you know what I mean? There’s got to be a little bit more time under their belts to know that. I think they’ve all done a pretty good job so far, but I think you’ve gotta have … like, I’m 54 years into this business, so I think we have to wait a minute.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we interpret an artist’s legacy after Aretha passed, and every time an icon passes on. Do you think about yours and what you hope that will be?

You know, I don’t really think about it. The only provision I’ve made is: I want all my friends and family to go to Paris and have a big party. I’m gonna fly everybody to Paris and have a big party. But no, I don’t think about it too much because it’s like, thinking about it can’t do me any good. It is what it is, and to think about it, what will that get me? Kind of nothing. Also, what’s really great is there’s music left behind and there’s film left behind, you know? I’m gonna leave a trail. I’ll leave breadcrumbs.

Cher’s new CD “Dancing Queen”  is available for purchase and her new tour “Here We Go Again Tour” hits 4 Florida cities: Fort Meyers (Jan 17); Fort Lauderdale (Jan 19); Orlando (Jan 21); Jacksonville (Jan 23). To purchase the new CD or tickets to her tour go to: Cher.com.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/10/11/love-and-understanding-a-conversation-with-cher/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/178950420815

[cynthiajayusa]

Love and Understanding: A Conversation with Cher

Cher is so low-key about being Cher that calling her is like calling your mom. “Hi,” she purrs with signature simplicity when I phone her presidential suite. We are speaking matter-of-factly about gay things, political things, Twitter things (“I’m finished with the emojis that we have”). About going to Walgreens and trying to remember why she went to Walgreens. This seems so very … normal?  

Certainly, Cher is the most multi of multi-hyphenates – fiery human rights activist, Auto-Tune pioneer, a unicorn, the Phoenix – but no, not at all normal. Not from down here, where we’ve basked in the long-reigning diva’s treasure trove of film and music and bedazzled Bob Mackie costumes, and admired her ability to get down, do a five-minute plank (seriously), and somehow get back up again. That motion is the time-tested motion of Cher’s enduring six-decade career. It’s where grit meets guts meets glitter.

Our Oz, our Wonderland; a safe, shimmering space providing escapist refuge since the 1960s, a span which has seen Sonny (Bono, her late ex-husband) and Cher, anthemic rock and gay dance, inventions and reinventions – Cher’s mere existence brought us closer to those within our own community, and closer to ourselves.

She has three Golden Globes, a Best Actress Oscar (for Moonstruck), a Grammy (for “Believe”) and an Emmy (for Cher: The Farewell Tour), and in December, she’ll be the recipient of the prestigious Kennedy Center Honor for her indelible contributions to culture. But Cher’s superheroine, Hollywood-royalty sheen isn’t without genuine normal-person realness. Unlike “Believe,” there is nothing artificially manufactured about Cher’s no-nonsense, everywoman, Walgreens-shopper persona. Because even when her sequins glisten like a galaxy of stars on a lit Vegas stage, when she’s floating high above you in majestic-goddess fashion, and when she’s still wearing a variation of her “If I Could Turn Back Time” music video one-piece at her current age of 72, Cher does the least pop icon thing a pop icon can do: remind you she’s still living in your world.

In July, she did her gay-icon due diligence by helicoptering onto the set of Mamma Mia 2! Here We Go Again to play the role she’d been playing in front of the world, most discernibly to generations of baby-gays and grown-up gays: maternal pillar. When I met Cher in 2016 on Halloween at a fundraiser stop for Hillary Clinton in the suburbs of Michigan, I was struck by her Cher-ness, the glitzy legend momentarily eclipsed by her warm, inviting humanness.

Armed with a cannon of glittery ABBA bops, Cher has come to our rescue once again with an ode to the Swedish disco-pop supergroup titled – what else? – Dancing Queen, her 26th album and first since 2013’s Closer to the Truth. In December, The Cher Show, the musical about her life, which she is co-producing, officially opens on Broadway. And next year, because she just can’t help herself, she will embark on a tour appropriately titled Here We Go Again.

The night we spoke, Cher was laid-back, reflective and full of hearty chuckles as she talked about that Walgreens detour, kissing Silkwood co-star Meryl Streep, the wedding dress she’d wear to Trump’s impeachment party, the “breadcrumbs” of her legacy, Twitter, the devil, jumping out of a window – and not only her long-standing influence on the LGBTQ community, but our influence on her.  

Cher, I have a story you probably haven’t thought about in some time: its 2016, you’re at a Walgreens in Flint, Michigan, on Halloween. You were there campaigning for Hillary and some Walgreens shopper told you they loved your Cher costume.

Yes! Oh my god! Wasn’t that, like, the weirdest experience at the Walgreens?!

You tell me. I wasn’t there!

Haha! I needed to go into the Walgreens for something. Or: I had a moment to breathe …  I don’t know. I went into Walgreens and I was looking for something, and then the girls who were helping me realized it was me, and then there was a whole kind of hubbub thing and all these little trick-or-treaters came in as I was leaving. So they were all outside and I piled them into the limousine and we were hanging out in there. I mean, I was supposed to be going to a whole bunch of fundraisers – I ended up making them, of course – and I was busy playing with the kids.

Are you frequently mistaken for a Cher impersonator? Because, I mean, how often would the real Cher be at a Walgreens?

Right? And in Flint! Well, probably not often. Ha! But you know, the minute I start talking, they pretty much know it’s me.

You’re hard on yourself when it comes to your music. Are you happy with Dancing Queen?

I think I did a good job. Now whether people are gonna like it…

Less studio drama than that time you stormed out on producer Mark Taylor after recording “Believe”?

Well… yes. Haha! But I have to tell you something: These songs are not easy. You’d think, “Oh, they’re pop-y and Björn (Ulvaeus) and Benny (Andersson) and the girls start to get into them,” and they’re not. No more Mr. Nice Guy! They’re rough songs. And they’re much more intricate than I thought, but I had a great time. Some of them are easier, and some of them have some rough spots.

You could’ve easily found enough inspiration in the world’s current plight for another album like your 2000 indie album Not Commercial, which was dark.  

But we don’t need that right now! We need ABBA right now! If anything, we need to not be brought down because everything is so terrible. I was just talking to this one boy who came in and he was asking me what did I really think and I said, “Babe, I think the picture’s bleak. I think everyone’s gotta vote.”

Thankfully, Dancing Queen is a slice of gay heaven in hell.

Well, look, I wasn’t doing it for that, but I’m happy if it can make people happier than they were before they heard it.

When were you first aware that the LGBTQ community identified you as a gay icon?

I don’t think I was when I was with Sonny. I think it happened on The Sonny and Cher Show (which ran from 1976-1977), somehow. I don’t know – I don’t know how that happens. I mean, how does it happen? I have no idea! It’s just like, we made a pact and we’re a group and that’s it.

But you were seeing more of the LGBTQ community come out at some point? There was a switch?

Yeah, there was a change, there was definitely a change. And I think it was when I was not with Sonny anymore, and then somehow it all started to click. But I always had gay friends. I actually almost got arrested at a party with my best friend at school. He was gay but he couldn’t let anybody know, and he wanted me to go with him to a party and the party got raided. And we jumped out the bathroom window! It was high. We had to go over the bathtub into the window and jump out.

And you got away?

Yep.

Do you recall the moment that galvanized you to stand up as an ally for the LGBTQ community?

I’m not sure there was a moment; I’m not sure what it was. I just feel that, probably, there was a moment where guys thought I was just one of you. It’s like, there’s a moment where you’re either part of the group and you’re absorbed into the group and people love you as part of the group, or they don’t even know you’re alive, you know? Gay men are very loyal.

Look, I have a friend (makeup artist) Kevyn Aucoin – he’s dead now – but he told me when he was young, he was growing up in some place in Louisiana and said how horrible it was to have to hide and be frightened, and he said he loved listening to Cher records. I think that’s a dead giveaway! Haha! If you want to hide being gay, do not buy Cher records!

And I had another friend who had a Cher poster on his wall. I don’t remember where he came from – some small town too – and his dad ripped it off the wall and he bought another one, put it inside his closet and said it was a way to really be who he was in spite of who his dad wanted him to be.

When in your life have you felt like the LGBTQ community was on your side when the rest of the world maybe was not?

Always. I remember when I was doing (the play) Come Back to the Five and Dime (in 1976) and we had standing room only before we got reviewed, and after we got reviewed nobody came except the community – the community, and little grey-haired old women who came to matinees. We managed to stay open until we could build back up the following. Also, the gay community, they just don’t leave you, they stay with you; that’s one thing that always keeps you going.

What does that loyalty mean to you?

There’s been sometimes where I was just, you know, heartbroken about things, but it always gives you hope when there are people who think that you’re cute and worthwhile and an artist. It’s a great thing to have in your back pocket.

Your mother once told you when you were a child: “You won’t be the prettiest, you won’t be the most talented, you won’t be the smartest, but you are special.” What kind of mark did that leave on you?

It just left some sort of indelible, interior tattoo. Because I have gone through so much shit in my life. I can’t tell you how many times people have written, “She’ll be gone by next year.” I remember I got really pissed off at somebody and I went, “I’ll be here and you’ll be gone.” I don’t think I believed it at the time, but I was just angry.

So what you’re saying is what I’ve longed to hear: You’re immortal.

Well, no, I’m not saying that. Ha! I’m just saying I can be really pissy.

At the Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again premiere in July, you and Meryl Streep kissed on the lips. Was that meant to be the Silkwood reunion the internet wanted it to be?

Haha! No! We were just thinking it was stupid! It was so dumb! Meryl came behind me and I didn’t know it, and then we turned to each other, she looked up at me and she said, “You weren’t this tall yesterday!” And we laughed. And we just kissed! I had on my 10-inch heels, and you can see how tall I am next to her and we just thought it was funny. I said, “Kiss me!” And we just kissed!

I have to tell you something: She is funny. She is wicked funny! And I don’t know that she gets to show that side all that often, but she’s wicked funny and she just will do anything for a lark. She’s got a really great serious side, but she’s got this really hysterical side too.

How do you hope your role as the mother of a trans son, Chaz Bono, has influenced other parents of LGBTQ kids?

This is what I think, and this is what I would hope: I would hope that, look, I didn’t go through it that easily. Both times. When I found out Chaz was gay, I didn’t go through it that easily; when I found out Chaz was (transitioning) … except we talked about it a lot, actually. But then Chaz didn’t mention it anymore, so I kind of forgot. And what I think is, there’s such a fear of losing the child you love, and what will replace that child.

I think it’s about the fear, mostly. I felt, who will this new person be? Because I know who the person is now, but who will the new person be and how will it work and will I have lost somebody? And then I thought of something else: I thought, my god, if I woke up tomorrow and I was a man, I would be gouging my eyes out. And so I know that if that’s what you feel then that must be so painful that it doesn’t make any difference what anyone else feels or what anyone else thinks. Chaz is so happy now and we get along better than ever.

You’re known to speak your mind. When’s the last time your mouth got you into trouble?

I think it was my fingers that got me into trouble last time. I had to delete a couple of things that I tweeted, which now what I do is: If I’m gonna just go off on a rant, I do it first, I look at it, I delete it, but I take a picture of it first and then I have it. Then I decide if I really wanna put it on my Twitter or if I really wanna tweet it – or if I got it out of my system. I said something that I thought was really funny but obviously the people on Trump’s side didn’t feel it was funny and I got so much shit that I didn’t expect.

There seems to be a fair amount of homophobes who you end up calling out.

Yeah. I mean, I don’t know what they are. There’s just so much phobia of everybody. You’ve gotta be the same color, you’ve gotta like the same things, you’ve gotta be the same religion. It’s like if you’re not one of them, you’re an enemy.

You’re known for your emojis – do you have a go-to?

Well, I have a few of them. I have cake when I’m really happy, I have a ghost when I’m really happy, and when I’m really, really happy I put them together. I wish I had something that was more than the guy who’s got the blue head that is screaming. I wish I had somebody with a scream and his head was coming off the top of his body. I really wish there were better emojis. I’m finished with the emojis that we have.

Am I hearing right: You’re done with emojis?

Yeah, stick a fork in ’em! I just want there to be more. I like the emoji that’s the red-faced one with all the little signs over his mouth, which I always imagine is “fuck.” That’s what I put instead of the letters because they just get so angry. But also, I use the guy with the zipper across his mouth because I can’t say that. I have little fans, so I have to stop using that.

You could send out the shit emoji and you know what, Cher, the gays would go wild.

Oh, I’ve done that before! I put a bull and that together for when I think, “Oh, this is such bullshit.”

What will you be wearing to Trump’s impeachment party?

Well, I think that we’re all a little bit too premature for that, because I don’t think that’s gonna happen. But in my dreams I will be wearing something – oh, I think I’ll wear a wedding dress! Haha! I think I’ll just wear a white wedding dress. And a veil.

To symbolize?

Just purity and excitement and something new. A new phase!

And we’ll all go on a honeymoon after.

Yes, we’ll go on one big honeymoon forever afterwards. I don’t see that happening because I think that there too many really smart people, in the devilish kind of way. All those people who are advising him, they’re really smart. But they’re really from the dark side. I don’t mean the actual devil in reality – not that I think that there is a devil in reality – but just a real dark side of gutting the entire government and gutting everything that was meant to preserve our safety and the water and the air and the land and schools and healthcare and all of it.  

When it comes to our current pop landscape – Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, et cetera – who do you think does or doesn’t have the staying power that you’ve demonstrated throughout your entire career?

Gosh, I don’t know. It’s really hard to know until there’s more time under their belts, do you know what I mean? There’s got to be a little bit more time under their belts to know that. I think they’ve all done a pretty good job so far, but I think you’ve gotta have … like, I’m 54 years into this business, so I think we have to wait a minute.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how we interpret an artist’s legacy after Aretha passed, and every time an icon passes on. Do you think about yours and what you hope that will be?

You know, I don’t really think about it. The only provision I’ve made is: I want all my friends and family to go to Paris and have a big party. I’m gonna fly everybody to Paris and have a big party. But no, I don’t think about it too much because it’s like, thinking about it can’t do me any good. It is what it is, and to think about it, what will that get me? Kind of nothing. Also, what’s really great is there’s music left behind and there’s film left behind, you know? I’m gonna leave a trail. I’ll leave breadcrumbs.

Cher’s new CD “Dancing Queen”  is available for purchase and her new tour “Here We Go Again Tour” hits 4 Florida cities: Fort Meyers (Jan 17); Fort Lauderdale (Jan 19); Orlando (Jan 21); Jacksonville (Jan 23). To purchase the new CD or tickets to her tour go to: Cher.com.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/10/11/love-and-understanding-a-conversation-with-cher/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/10/love-and-understanding-conversation.html

[aphoticpits]

B&B Chapter 1A

Every night the ocean would rise and swallow me whole. As I sank to the bottom of the ocean like a heavy rock, the lush ocean bed would rise and give me footing. The garden in the ocean was rich and bright and it welcomed me with open arms. As I lay in the ocean garden, waiting for my breath to run out, a bright orb of light would silently float towards me as the weight of the water came crashing down on me.

I opened my eyes as the clock struck three. I was wide awake and my body was alert. The snores around me rose and fell in an undulating rhythm as my numerous siblings around me slept in peaceful stasis; their worries and lives all on halt in the brief darkness of the night. My breath broke the hypnotic rhythm of their deep slumbering. I heard my mother jostling around as she went back and forth between the kitchen and the tiny little room beside ours, tending to our little brother, sleeping by himself. My little brother coughed a deep, hoarse cough and it sounded as if perhaps, he may have coughed up his lung itself. I heard my Mother’s sniffles as she ever so softly hummed to him. He coughed again. It was then I realized I was sweating profusely. My clothes were drenched and my hair was matted. I remembered the vivid and intense dream that had been pervading my restless sleep for the past few nights. 

The heavy silence broke the rhythmic snores as I realized that today was the last day I would wake like this. Today was the last day I would be surrounded like this as I went to bed and as I awoke. I watched Nayung, my older sister sleep beside me like a fallen piece of lumber on the roadside and realized that I had very little to remember her by. She and I interacted maybe once a day, primarily when she woke me up. She was secretive as I was quiet and this suited us just fine. 

I was the 4th child. A feared number and in some cases, an unlucky omen. There was nothing great about being 4th. My two older sisters Yuuna and Ai wielded significant influence in our household while Nayung and I slipped into the background. Yuuna and Ai were neither beautiful nor ugly but had an assertiveness in their manner that many boys found attractive. They were fast friends and even closer sisters. Yuuna and Ai always had each other’s backs and their sense of filial piety made them a vital part of the household. Yuuna worked at the market, shucking oysters for a living and gave all her income to the family. Ai, younger than Yuuna was apprenticing to be a seamstress and working part-time at the market alongside Yuuna.

I had one younger sister, Chi, whom most agree, was the prettiest of us all. She shone like a bright star and captivated the hearts of the crankiest old men. She was sweet with her tongue and quick-witted all the same. She had vivid daydreams and wilder tales to tell. Chi was loved by all but unfortunately, Chi hated our little island village. She fantasized about the enigmatic mainland that offered a plethora of experiences that the village couldn’t even fathom. Chi confided in me mostly because I said very little. She told me of the boys that pursued her and her brutal rejection of their unsophisticated wooing and their provincial ambitions. However, her manner of rejection came dripped in honey and doe-eyed sincerity and thus no one really caught on to Chi’s disdain and underlying contempt.

“I can’t wait till I’m old enough to leave this dump town. It’ll be the last I see of that old goose!” she ranted one day about our old neighbour who reprimanded Chi for being too wayward.

“You’ll come with me, won’t you, Una?!” she asked me suddenly; pleadingly. 

“Of course.” I comforted her untruthfully. 

 I also had two younger brothers whom, perhaps on account of being the last ones born, were both tender and weak. Li, the second youngest was hearty in body but had a weak mind. He idled all day and shirked responsibility like the plague. He had a handsomeness to him that, like Chi, allowed him the luxury of sweet talking his way out of things. Li always meant well however and his lies never broke the extent of simply getting out of chores. 

Yaru was my youngest brother. Physically, the weakest of us all, emotionally perhaps the strongest. He was born with a frail body and a wide smile and loved to laugh and talk as much as he hacked and coughed. He loved as he laughed; wantonly and willingly. Yaru was my favourite but time was not Yaru’s friend. Increasingly weaker and frailer as he grew older, by the age of 12, he spent most of his time on his flimsy mat, sick and weak. I watched over him when my Mother was busy with the others and he read to me on occasion. Yaru loved to read. He told me of the other side; a world that plundered as much as it developed. The many new and fascinating things that were born at a constant and steady rate that made things like his sickness go away. Although we barely had enough to eat, Father kept up a steady flow of books for Yaru from his dealings with the buyers at the fish market. He was gone at dawn and returned after dusk, usually with fish he caught that day and vegetables for dinner as well a book for Yaru. Father taught Yaru the basics of reading and it took a life of its own in him. Yaru even taught me how to read. Our bond was strong and for a time, I thought it infallible. Then, the day came when Yaru coughed up blood.

At this time, however, I felt nothing. I surmised that upon being sold off, there should be a sense of panic as that is what most would assume would be a reasonable reaction. Yet I lay in bed thinking about Chi. I thought about her desire to leave and I thought about how little I cared for the world outside this village. In all earnestness, I thought I would live and die here in this little island village, cast aside from the mainland, enveloped in its own sleepy bubble. I closed my eyes and let the ennui and resignation wash over me. All I knew was, me going away would save Yaru. Somehow. 

Mother and Father had asked me not to tell anyone of this transaction. Mother never looked at me once, her eyes firmly focused on her hands folded in her lap. Father sat stoically on his heels, looking straight into my eyes. 

“I hope you understand why we’re doing this, Una” he said. “This is for the family. Yaru is very sick and he needs medicine that we cannot afford. I hope you know that we’re not making this decision lightly.” I looked at my Mother who sat in silence.

“Why me?” I asked quietly

“You’re the only one we can count on” he replied in a heavy voice.

“I understand.” 

I knew it was not Yaru’s fault yet I couldn’t squash the rising feeling of rejection growing inside my heart. I knew that my parents did not love me as they loved my siblings, but they had faith in me. It was a type of love, I suppose but for now, I didn’t care for love, nor for people.