#you can say that glimmer is asian but what makes her asian apart from her character design?

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Out of spite, I’m just going to say catra is white woman because she really is to be honest.

lmao yeah, pretty much. i mean, there aren't even races or ethnicities in etheria. we see people of color but we never see any kind of tradition or culture that sets each kingdom apart.

in ATLA, for example, we are clearly shown how unique each kingdom is, we see different cultures and different types of political power. we see how time has changed each culture, unique traditions and social norms in each of them. even within the gaang, we can see how different each of their culture is.

but in spop? they have diversity for diversity's sake. that's it. it's clear that none of the characters were inspired by real life poc.

[guileheroine]

atla rewatch thoughts

because i’d regret it if i didn’t write it down, here’s my thoughts upon rewatch off the top of my head! 

always interesting to see what new things come to the fore when revisiting something as an adult, especially when Something is excellent

this is my #1 fav show c: 

this show is so good! 

it’s not just character-oriented, which is the single most important factor in me giving a shit, but it has 2 things i think i value the most in a plot, overarching cohesion/consistency, and breathing room

book 2 was always my fave, but i have a newer appreciation for book 3 and i’d put them equal now (as i think most people do?)

AANG! i love him. he is so special. he is an absolute joy to watch, a character that just glimmers with understated complexity, humour, heart, cleverness, strength, tragedy, integrity. an icoooon. and just unique from a meta perspective- had a great discussion about how there are truly no protagonists in popular western media like him - there’s things about his characterisation, his arc that i’ve always appreciated deeply that i didn’t rly have the tools to articulate until this time around 

by the same token, i can better pinpoint my issues with a lot of fandom reception of him (in particular, though this applies to all the characters) (touched on one aspect here)

i love the entire gaang but my unpopular onion is that ehhh... suki isn’t really part of the gaang? i mean she literally has her own gang give them some credit (real talk this is because she’s a static character compared to them whose inner life we aren’t privy to, though there’s nothing wrong with that)

atla gives effortless dimension to its secondary characters, and this applies to azula but not i think to the degree it should given her narrative agency, role as zuko’s foil, and the complexity of her whole... complex. she’s the one character that is slightly close to being a caricature imo, and we don’t see Into her early as we should because it’s cooler when she’s #slick. i’d love to have had a bit more of her. 

if i could change anything else about the ending, i’d give zuko prince wu’s abdication ending from lok

aside from that, the show has such a deft, sustained, multidimensional treatment of imperialism and colonialism that truly sets it apart within the genre and beyond 

also the first thing that ever caught my attention about atla is how asian the aesthetics are and i will always love that! i don’t know how americans ever executed this galaxy brained concept but i’m so glad a massively popular anglophone cultural product that speaks directly to us, can belong to us, before white people exists (#representationmatters and all that, but it’s altogether more liberating if your entire fantasy world is noneuro and no one even has to exist in relation to hegemonic whiteness. utopic!)

i happily drink that delicious pan-asian soup, but if you asked, i’d say i wish we saw more explicitly south asian characters given how much the show borrows from indosphere culture/religion (including but not limited to the titular concept)

could take it or leave it when i first watched it, but as an adult who knows they can just not like stuff, and whose tolerance for perfunctory het is at an all time low: i don’t like maiko. like all atla ships, there’s potential, but my instinctual read as i watch is that as they are, they’re bringing out the worse aspects of each other (in zuko’s case, the malaise that characterises his whole personal/moral quandary after returning home is usually on display in scenes with mai, whether that just makes maiko a victim or circumstance or not)

the show is def a product of its time wrt heteronormativity, regardless of how queerable it is to those interested. this is something i’m interested to see change in the live action, because i think it will have to change! 

i still think it would be equally poignant and tighter without most of the overt romance, and i continue to not be hot on the ending scene

kataang shines bright regardless. no amount of clumsiness on that front can elide how pivotal, touching, and enjoyable their actual dynamic is. they’re the emotional bedrock of the whole show 

zutara tasty, but i’m always like (to quote zuko) ‘where’s the rest of it?’ when i jump into the show after the fandom 

zukaang manifesto time! this is undeniably the non-canon ship with the most TEXTUAL juice. their mirrored journey is my favourite throughline of the show and it’s arguably the throughline with zuko as the deuteragonist and their convergence/shared destiny being the key to the war’s end. that’s not coming from a shipping lens (it was true before i ever really shipped them), but this particular flavour of narrative basis adds real magic to shipping. when there’s no difference between what you appreciate intellectually and indulgently in a narrative and they just compound each other endlessly..... eliteeee 

related, can’t stop thinking abt how roku’s homosexuality started the war 

i preferred when toph/sokka/suki instead of sokka/suki/zuko was the go-to gaang ot3 but what i really want to see is zutaraang supremacy 

aang, zuko and katara are the show’s tentpoles, especially emotionally. they each foil the other two so well - in their personalities, and esp for zutara/zukaang, on a wider thematic level. and they’re such well articulated characters that it’s easy to extrapolate that to the three-way dynamic. it’s probably most (in)famously on display in 3.16 but there’s a deeelicious little moment in 3.18 when aang leaves distraught and zuko is the one to stop katara from immediately going after him. the #dynamics that were simmering, whew. 

i think mai/ty lee is getting the generic uwu soft girls treatment that is the bane of all popular femslash ships (same way zukka’s getting the generic dudeslash treatment) because azula makes tyzula a little too spicy. however i would like to see more tyzula, especially of the spicy variety

i wish there was someone in this show i could thirst over. hakoda is sort of a dilf? 

[thewickedmerman]

Ainsley Swanhild (To Belong OC)

For those of you that have kept up with my fan-made images on Deviantart of character designs of the book I'm writing, Journey of a Lost Soul, you should know that this is a variation of the character Noah Reynolds but in the To Belong universe. @tobelongtheseries started out as a Non/Disney crossover created by @thenamelessdoll and is going to become an actual show with original characters created by TheNamelessDoll. Before I get into the details of this character, I would just like to say that TheNamelessDoll is one of the nicest people you will EVER meet! She's also so nice and will respond to her fans that message her. She even makes herself work when she's feeling bad, which is admirable but not something she should be doing when she needs rest. If you don't follow her and her work, first of all, have you been living under a rock? Secondly, go and follow her on her accounts, particularly her Youtube and Tumblr accounts. You should especially check out her To Belong work. Her work is just absolutely phenomenal! Anyway, this character is what Noah would be like in the To Belong universe, which is a world where people have the ability to turn into ONE animal and takes place in 1895, which is a fashion I found difficult to find for a boy his age. I gave him a different name and race because, while he is what Noah would be like in the To Belong universe, I want to separate this character as much as possible from my book. So I made him Asian (Either Chinese, Japanese, or Korean) and I gave him the name Ainsley Swanhild. The name Ainsley means "alone" and the name Swanhild means "swan battle." This suits his character because of how he has been alone his entire life, can change into a swan, and is in constant battle with his emotions and keeping his walls up in order to avoid getting hurt. Just like Noah, he is a ten-year-old orphan that was in an abusive orphanage for most of his life until he ran away. The horrible woman that ran the orphanage in this would, I imagine being able to change into an animal that has claws, so she can make scars on Ainsley's back to punish him. The only clue he has about where he came from is his necklace with a swan pendant. But he doesn't even know if he was abandoned or if his parents died. He doesn't even know the day he was born, just the day he was found and taken to the orphanage. He had tried to be good but it was never enough and he finally gave the b*tch the abused him a punch and ran away, never turning back. He ran away when he was eight, which was the time he finally learned how to fly in his swan form. He's lived off of stealing food and sleeping in either the streets or the woods. He is smart, kind, has a hard shell, sassy, sarcastic, blunt, takes no crap from anyone, mischievous, clever, resourceful, cares about other even if he won't let it show, will put others before himself, reckless, has ARGUABLY had it harder in life than Von Barth siblings (Three out of four of the main protagonists of To Belong), doesn't value his own life, won't accept help, is afraid to depend on others, his biggest fear is that one day he'll wake up back at that orphanage, has a heart of gold deep down, is insecure about his looks, and loves to swim and fly and go on adventures. Also, while Noah loves to read, this version doesn't know how to read because of how he had been deprived of an education for so long. He's a fast learner and would be able to pick it up fast if someone took the time to help him learn. Same with the other subjects, but he would suffer at math, apart from basic math. He often wonders where he came from but realizes it's most likely just a waste of time thinking about it. I also have a feeling Terren Von Barth would be the PERFECT father figure in Ainsley's life. I can also imagine him being very close to Frey Von Barth and Isaia being very motherly towards him. The reason I designed him the way I did and had his animal be a swan actually is part of his character. The black shows his bleak and skeptical outlook on life, the red shows both his brutal abuse (Physical, emotional, and sexual) and his fiery personality, and the white shows not only a reference to his swan form, but also that, despite his hard shell, he does have a good heart and will end up putting others before himself. The messy hair, well is typical of most little boys, particularly this one who has never really had the luxuries others have had. But the white isn't a very clean looking white and not as pure as how white he is as a swan. It shows that he is hesitant about opening up to others, letting them in, believing that in even the possibility that someone could love or care about him couldn't be possible AT ALL, and afraid to let himself be truly happy because it usually ends badly whenever something good happens in his life. The eyes are sharp, to go with his skeptical outlook on life, as well as his sassy, sarcastic, and snarky comments he always makes. The color blue shows the glimmer of hope there is for him with the proper guidance, his love for the water/sea and the skies, how his eyes light up whenever he lets himself be happy or even smiles from that genuine happiness, and the tears he has shed in his life and has since kept bottled up to keep from feeling weak. The reason I chose his animal to be a swan is because of the story of The Ugly Duckling. He had no family and felt unloveable but will one day find his family and feel like a true swan even when in his human form. The white swan also contrasts with his regular look that is black and dark, like the black swan from Swan Lake/The Swan Princess and the Natalie Portman movie Black Swan. His swan form can fly anywhere, soar through the skies, swim in the water, and forget what he believes he truly is (A nobody, which is OBVIOUSLY isn't AT ALL). It also shows that you can't judge a book by its cover, ignoring the necklace, I bet none of you would've thought his animal form would be a swan. That's just like how no one in the story of The Ugly Duckling ever thought that "Ugly Duckling" would turn out to be a swan. It also shows the good and caring person he is inside that he won't admit he is or let show. I also added some fuzz or fluff to the top of his head to make him look more like himself, apart from the eyes. I hope you guys like it and comment letting me know what you think. Enjoy! 

[trashayfanfiction]

Fluffy smut I promised

PLZ tumblr don’t ban it. Rated M, but not Explicit. Slice of life, light comedy, uncomfortable situations.

Prompt 1 for smut week. “Video taping”

Ash goes to japan and finds some hardcore 'american twink' porn in Eiji's room. ....he is unsure how to react.

"LOOK I WATCHED THOSE BEFORE I EVEN MET YOU"

Ash makes him a custom porn tape.

Idk if I like this one well enough to post to AO3, so might be a Tumblr only thing. I feel the quality of my work is suffering due to the frequency I’m posting.  My diction is lacking and all of my works explore the same ideas. #uninspired but working on it.

..................................................

He was already stressed about visiting Eiji’s parent’s house. He was a man. What if they didn’t like him. What if, what if….

And then he found this little gem tucked in the back of Eijis bookcase behind some comics. “American Twink Railed Hard Gangbang’ the ‘Engrish’ scrawled across the cover in weathered white letters.

He’d thought it weird that there was a video tape behind the comics.

Eiji was out in the kitchen with his family. Ash wondered if his mom ever found his porn, this wasn’t a very sneaky place for it. Maybe she gave him privacy ‘boys will be boys’ and such. Eiji was nineteen when he first came to America. Men have needs.

The boy on sleeve was pretty and blonde, tied up in black shibari on top of a muscular man who’s face wasn’t pictured. The boy looked younger than him….

….but Eiji was still young. It’s normal to desire someone close to your own age. And Japan has different ‘age of consent’ laws didn’t it?  He still felt his stomach shift.

He looked at the back of the tape; images of the boy tied up in a grimy subway car, wrists attached to the overhead bars. Large men surrounding him.

That…… hit a little close to home. But that correlation was interesting. This was Eiji’s first trip back home, so it was unlikely these were new.

He removed some of the other comics, a single shelf of tankobons.  Behind them there was a another video and a few magazines. By no means a sizable porn collection. He could hold all of it in one hand. It was actually pretty pathetic.

Shorter had two milk crates of playboy magazines he’d swiped over the years. A truly impressive feat, seeing that almost all of them were shoplifted or stolen. He used to joke ‘when I die, you can have my porn collection,” To which Ash always responded with disgust.

His dad had ‘motorcycle’ magazines that Ash knew about before he ran away, it’s not like they were hidden. The house was only men; him, dad, and Griff. Of course Griff had some pinup girls from Sports Illustrated on his walls. Ash supposed Eiji’s small collection was part of living at home. …but a significant amount of it was pretty white boys getting fucked.

At least he didn’t need to worry about his boyfriend being attracted to him or not. ….now that they were at a point where attraction was acknowledged and welcomed. If he’d seen this when he first met Eiji, he could have been convinced there were ulterior motives.

He flipped through the magazines out of curiosity. One was relatively normal ‘straight’ man stuff; female models, cute Asian schoolgirls. Sweet innocence the primary sex appeal with provocative voyeuristic camera angels and demure poses. This is what he was expecting, not the other magazines full of kink. A slim blindfolded blonde boy with cum on his face. Another image of a Caucasian boy tied open over a Spanish horse, wood pressing into his groin.

He knew his hair was irrationally standing on end. The images were only shocking in relation to who owned them. Eiji was in the kitchen talking to his family, catching up. After introductions and talking, stumbling over Japanese and English. Ash had turned in early due to jetlag. The details of Eiji’s childhood room fascinated him. A tidy study area. No sports posters on the wall, the image Ibe took was framed in the family room though. The comics had drawn him in with their touch of color and personality….. Finding this was….stash… entirely unexpected in contrast to the clean normal exterior.

But he supposed that was normal. Most people didn’t broadcast their sexuality, let alone desires like these. Honestly, at the beginning of their relationship he was curious if Eiji even liked guys, his “Do you have a girlfriend?” question testing the waters. Eiji’s cautious “No, no girlfriend,” giving him a glimmer of hope to entertain an idea and fantasy he knew he shouldn’t have.

But Eiji’s awful flirting, and terrible dick jokes, bravery and earnest attitude….. and somehow they ended up here. He was doomed to fall for such a sheltered honest guy who laughably wanted to protect him and didn’t want anything in return. An equal he didn’t deserve.

But still…. Leather?

He had never needed to do much S&M thankfully, it wasn’t the primary draw to him…. But he’d done it.

Ash flipped through some more pages. A boy in a spidergag. Asian this time. This seemed to be more of a leather magazine than anything. The photography highlighted the young men in various restraints.

The last two magazines were ‘Hardcore White Boy’, and he was a bit scared to open them. This might be a secret that Eiji didn’t want to share, but curiosity got the better of him.

               It was exactly what he expected. Bondage and gangbangs, and red marks, and…. He put the papers down.

               He tried to forget that the boys looked very similar to him. None quite had his shade of blonde, and eye color wasn’t visible in most images, but the correlation was there.

               He decided it was time to put the porn back and stop poking in his significant other’s personal business. …but he kind of wanted to tease the man.

               He left the girly mag out. Opening it and posing it over his T-shirt covered chest when he heard the creak of Eiji finally opening the bedroom door.

               He gave his best overexaggerated sexy stretch, showcasing what he’d found. “This is the kind of thing you like?” He tried to pout, “Am I not your type?”

               Eiji froze as he saw the magazine in Ash’s hand. Evaluating the Caucasian in front of him for anything more than the shenanigans being currently pulled.

               “D-! Where did you find that?”

Ash rolled over, mischief overriding his system. “In your comics,” Shit-eating grin.

“I- is that all you found?” Dread crept up Eiji’s face…. It was adorable.

“Does a good boy like you have more?” He flipped through the magazine, “I think she’s pretty,” He teased. A pretty girl whining and covering her breasts as the camera ‘interrupted’ her changing.

“You know I’m not a ‘good boy’. Stop being a dick,”

His stuttering and flushing were amusing. ….Ash wanted to unbutton that pajama shirt and see how far the pinkness went…. But they were at Eiji’s parent’s house, and Japanese walls were thin.

Eiji set up his futon next to Ash. Letting a hand creep out to hold his friend’s fingers.

The night was normal.

………………………………………..

The trip was normal.

He still couldn’t forget the video tape and magazines.

He wondered if Eiji would ever bring it up. The other always knew when he was lying.

Nothing was mentioned.

They had been messing around a bit beforehand…. It was still weird. New. Hesitant in a way that was annoying, but not unwarranted.

……………………………….

               They had been moved into their new apartment about a week now. Eiji was out. The visible camcorder gave him an idea…..

It was easy to go to the sex store and find the things he wanted a few days earlier. Ash had been debating this for a while.

He wanted to see what would happen.

It couldn’t possibly hurt anything. Either Eiji would be turned on or it would be humiliatingly hilarious, both weren’t horrible outcomes.

…………………………………………………………..

Ash struggled more than he’d like to admit setting up the camera on the tripod…. He’d never needed to do this himself.

The camera’s presence still made him nervous. He denied that he was shaking.

He checked the viewfinder and lay out his implements.

He thought of who he was doing this for.

……………………………………………

“Hey! I’ve got a present for you,” Ash pecked him on the cheek as he returned.

Everything was cleaned up. The only evidence was the small cassette he’d titled ‘**Special XOXO’ with permanent marker.

               He plugged the camcorder into the TV.

Sounds of his own moaning filled the apartment.

“Y-you can take something that bit,” Eiji sputtered. The disbelief was delightful.

Ash licked the shell of his ear, brushing his soft hair. “Yeah, does it turn you on? I’ve still got rope marks on my legs, you wanna see?”

No reaction, but the older boy’s body was rigid under his touch.

His hand cupped his boyfriend’s erection. He flinched away from the contact. “I’m still loose if you want to do it now. Watch me on screen, and have me here.” He trembled at the suggestion, fought the urge to bolt and leave the one person he trusted more than anything. He licked his lips to cover up that reaction.

Would Eiji take the bait?

Was this bait? He just wanted to know Eiji’s reaction……

“So you did find it…..?” his voice was low and resentful.

Ash traced a finger along his boyfriend’s face, lightheartedly. Eiji refused to look at him, even going as far to hide his face in his hands.

“You must think I’m a terrible pervert.”

“I don’t think that at all. Do you want to do that to me?” He pulled his tank top to the side, pink nipple poking out of the thin cotton…. “You seem to be interested,” A frisky squeeze to the groin…. Eiji was hard… Ash felt his stomach turning. ….please say ‘no’, please say ‘no’…..

“Look, I watched those before I even met you,” He brushed Ash’s hand away, defensive. Angry? “Stop being cruel. I will not do stuff like that with you unless you want to.”

“I just thought you’d like it.”

“I don’t think you like stuff like that, so stop.”

Ash shut off the TV, quickly killing his practiced sounds of pseudo ecstasy. He left. The tension in the room was unbearable.

Eiji slumped farther into the couch, head in his hands.

………………………………………………………………

Cautiously Eiji entered their shared bedroom. “I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t think I should have let you know. It is embarrassing, you know?”

Ash stirred from under the covers, feigning sleep, “It’s not what you want from me?”

“….…you are very attractive. But I do not like you only because you are attractive,”

“I’m glad that you won’t do stuff like that to me. …. But I don’t think I mind if you have it.”

[southboundhqarchive]

MEET ADELINE,

FULL NAME › Adeline Ziyi Mercier AGE › twenty nine GENDER › Cis woman (She/Her/Hers) FROM › Guangzhou, China RESIDENCE › Desert Willow Apartment Complex (Downtown) OCCUPATION › Owner of the Olive Branch Bar NOW PLAYING › The Show by Lenka

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warnings: implied racism, internalized racism, bullying, death

i. the first thing anyone will tell you about ethan and therese mercier is that they are good christians. church every sunday, bible study, scriptures framed on their wall christians. they can’t conceive a child of their own, but their sorrow gives way to purpose: this is all part of god’s plan. they are meant to give an unfortunate child a better life. a few trips to china and some paperwork filed later, the merciers bring a beautiful baby girl out of the orphanage and christen her adeline. it’s the american dream!

on their search for the perfect place to raise a child, they settle on the picturesque town of boot hill, arizona. it’s safe, secluded, and the desert has some charm, and when adeline turns two, they move into a one-story house with a garden. adeline is given dresses and books and toys; she is showered in love; she wants for nothing, and should want for nothing. they raise her as an all-american girl without much thought to her chinese heritage—well, there’s a chinese restaurant just a short drive away—but they do not know that will cause her to lose pieces of herself.

it is in elementary school when someone first asks her why don’t you look like your mom? it’s easy to stick out in town when you’re one of the only asian kids, and her crueler classmates mock the shape of her eyes and call her names. they never let her forget she’s different, that she doesn’t belong, and when she comes home crying, her mother soothes her and tells her to ignore them. be stronger than them. be the bigger person. it’s easy to say that when you’re used to being the majority, but every time adeline looks in the mirror, she is reminded she is not. if she wishes hard enough, will her eyes turn blue and her hair turn blonde?

but there are no fairy godmothers in boot hill. there is only a lonely girl, the fractures of her identity, and the desire for acceptance.

ii. if she will fit in with no one, then she will fit in with everyone. in high school, she flits between groups with ease, earning trust with a guileless smile and a warm demeanor. she’s a cheerleader, a pianist, student council vice president, and everyone loves her—or if they don’t, they pretend to. elementary school taunts become snide remarks in the bathroom. she acts like she’s better than us, who does she think she is? teenagers ( and adults! ) are particularly venomous when fed with the prejudices of their small world. you’re so exotic. how much do you cost? go back home. you don’t belong here. but adeline holds her head high because that is she what she’s been taught, plays the role everyone from her parents to her friends to her teachers want her to. she is so honest, so compassionate, you can’t help but tell her everything. soon, she is carrying not only the secrets of heart but the secrets of her peers too, and it is more than she ever wanted to hold. ( this is what she has learned about people: they want to be listened to. they want to be heard. but who is listening to her? )

the dissonance of the two halves of her identity, american and chinese, never quite goes away, but she shoves it down in favor of hanging out with friends at cheri’s dairy and going on dates at the drive-in. still, try as she might, she can’t ignore her curiosity. the older she gets, the more questions she has, and the desire to reconnect with the country she only knows as her birthplace grows with each year. they’ve already been to the jade flower, which adeline chooses every year for her birthday, though surely there’s more to being chinese than chow mein and general tso’s chicken. but there are no chinese schools in boot hill, no chinese new year celebrations like in san francisco, and her parents are terribly vague about answering questions about where she came from. they think she shouldn’t wonder too much, that she should be happy with what she has in the united states, with them. you’re much better off here, adeline.

iii. boot hill girls don’t go to college and they certainly don’t go to ivy leagues, but adeline mercier has always something of an anomaly. being valedictorian of her high school class, on the student council, and an avid volunteer with a sympathetic story of searching for herself in a sea of faces that don’t look like her gets her a spot at columbia. her parents couldn’t be prouder; this is what they brought her to this country for.

college is the first time in her life she’s seen so many other asians, and it feels like a piece has finally clicked into place but just not quite. the edge slips with the truth: she can’t relate. she doesn’t have them same upbringing as those who grew up in asian families and communities, doesn’t share the same inside jokes or the same struggles. this disconnect leads her to seek out other adoptees in new york, and with them, she finally can name the isolation deep in her bones, that feeling of being in two worlds yet feeling at home in neither. she can finally admit that while her parents tried, they didn’t try hard enough. during her time at columbia, she tries to look for her biological mother the merciers gave her no clues for, but her search turns up next to nothing. she tries not to be too disappointed; it’s just another gaping hole in her heart she can’t fill, just another series of unanswered questions. what’s new?

unused to the academic rigor of her classes, she nearly fails her first year. though she’s always been an intelligent girl—all a’s, model student, overachiever—, high school in boot hill was nothing compared to columbia. with the help of tutors and too many late nights, she manages to bring her grades back up, but it’s a constant uphill battle. frankly, boot hill didn’t prepare her for anything in new york—not the traffic, the subway, not the people. it’s a cliche, a small town girl moving to a big city and feeling completely lost, but god, it’s true. in boot hill, she was a shining star. at columbia, she’s simply another glimmer in a galaxy.

it’s comforting to be lost in the crowd, though, to no longer stick out because she’s different. here, in new york, she can be anyone. in new york, she blends right in. new york is terrifying but exhilarating, and she never wants to leave.

iv. life has a way of forcing your hand to play the cards you don’t want to be dealt. she’d been planning to stay in new york after graduation, but a whirlwind of events sends her back to boot hill, beginning with a positive pregnancy test and ends with death knocking at her door. when her boyfriend of two years learns she’s pregnant, he says everything will be okay, we’ll make it work, we can do anything as long as we’re together.

it’s a touching sentiment, but wishes don’t come true no matter how many stars you wish on and lovers can’t come home when they’re left bleeding in an alley. she finds out later that there was nothing that could be done and she’s left with too many questions and too little answers. rather than stay alone in city that’s growing far too cold for a young woman who grew up under the arizona sun, she returns to that small town off route 66. there, she will be safe. there, she will not worry. there, the jaws of the world will not snap her or her baby in two.

( and for all her parents’ faults, they will always be there to welcome her home. )

v. there are rumors, as there always are, whispers flying around about who the father is, what she’s running from. pretty, polished, tarnished. her mother’s friends sigh about her wasted potential ( what a poor girl! ) like being a single mother has cracked her porcelain facade. not so perfect anymore, quip snide high school acquaintances, the ones who thought she acted as if she was too good for them. how satisfying is it to see not even adeline mercier can escape boot hill? she should’ve known those who try to leave never really can.

but a month passes, and another month, and the rumor mill moves on. with the influx of newcomers coming into boot hill, there’s enough to gossip enough to keep the town sustained that it becomes like she never left ( which is to say, she still feels slightly out of place, like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit ). she easily falls into a routine: she gets a job as a waitress at the schoolhouse cafe, her parents take care of raphael while she’s at work, and she saves up all her money so she can, at least, make something out of herself here.

with the knowledge gained from university and an investment from her parents, she opens the olive branch bar as a homage to her favorite haunts in nyc the summer she turns 26. it pales in comparison to the low-lit lounges of the city she could have called home, but boot hill locals don’t know that. all they see is something new, a change of pace from the bucking horse or coyote’s howl. she’s not looking to replace them—everyone knows you can’t—but simply filling a niche that hasn’t been realized until now. business is slow at first, then suddenly, it skyrockets, both newcomers and locals looking for a taste of sophistication pulled in by the wine list, handcrafted cocktails, and jazzy ambiance.

yet it is a difficult thing to be a bird whose wings have soared only to have them clipped again. when once she might have thought she would’ve worked in skyscrapers and changed even a fraction of the world, her ambitions have been cut in half by circumstance. she’s as successful as one can be in this town with a thriving bar and a wonderful, growing boy, but oh, how she yearns for the world she had a glimpse of.

it’s a shame she’ll never see it again.

❝ if she spoke, she would tell him the truth: she was not okay at all, but horribly empty, now that she knew what it was like to be filled. ❞

CENSUS,

FACECLAIM › Gemma Chan AUTHOR › Izzie

[inloveandwords]

This post was inspired by Ally’s series (which was inspired by Lia at Lost in a Story).

It works like this:

Go to your goodreads to-read shelf.

Order on ascending date added.

Take the first 5 (or 10 (or even more!) if you’re feeling adventurous) books

Read the synopsis of the books

Decide: keep it or should it go?

  You guys, the Francesca Lia-Block obsession when I joined Goodreads was REAL! Every. Single. Book. is by her this time around!

  Here are the stats

Starting Total TBR Count: 1760

Previous Total TBR Count: 1772

Total Marked TBR ASAP: 132

Current Total TBR Count: 1762

      Ecstasia by Francesca Lia-Block

Siblings Calliope and Rafe, along with Dionisio and Paul, are Ecstasia—the most popular band in Elysia, a city of jewels and feathers, of magic and music, where the only crime is growing old. Then Calliope’s visions take her to Under, where the Old Ones go to die, and where her parents had vanished long ago. Rafe joins her there, in search of the Doctor, who can bring back the dead to ease their loved ones’ broken hearts. And that is when rapture turns to nightmare.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

    Primavera by Francesca Lia-Block

From the very moment she was born, Primavera’s songs made water flow and flowers blossom. She brought new life to the desert where her family lives. But even in Paradise there are dreams that cannot be fulfilled. Primavera is in love with a man who can never be hers–so when a handsome stranger offers her the gift of a horse-headed motorcycle, Primavera leaves home in search of the magical city of Elysia. But in Elysia, Primavera discovers that she has left behind everything she truly needs, everyone she truly cares about–and, if the city has its way, she will never find her way back home.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

  Nymph by Francesca Lia-Block

An interconnected series of stories, NYMPH is a special journey through the lives and loves of characters like Plum, a Crayon-haired girl who has a gift: if she makes love with a person, that person will then meet their true love, or Tom, a burned out surfer whose luck changes when he is rescued by a mysterious, wheelchair-bound woman, or Sylvie, a chronically depressed poet who finds beauty in unexpected places. Block’s erotic explorations of these smoky, kaleidoscopic fables are anything but conventional; these are stories of love, loss, and life, about the healing power of sex and bonding.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

  Quakeland by Francesca Lia-Block

After enduring from afar a seemingly endless series of outside worldwide disasters–including 9/11 and the Asian tsunami–while living in earthquake-prone Los Angeles, a bereft Katrina experiences deep inner longings for some sense of permanence, meaning, and intimacy. A pre-school teacher contemplating the unsettling challenges of her mid-life, she finds solace in the company of her dear friend, Grace, and conflict in the arms of Jasper, a narcissistic yoga instructor.

In this intertwining series of emotionally charged stories, wistful characters weave together a dance of joy and sorrow, gain and loss, dissonance and harmony.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

  Pretty Dead by Francesca Lia-Block

People pity me, but mostly they feel envy. I have all the luxury and freedom a girl my age could want.

Something is happening to Charlotte Emerson. Like the fires that are ravaging the hills of Los Angeles, it consumes her from the inside out. But whether it is her eternal loneliness, the memory of her brother, the return of her first love, or the brooding, magnetic Jared—she cannot say. What if it’s something more . . .

Something to do with the sudden tear in her perfect nails. The heat she feels when she’s with Jared. The blood rushing once again to her cheeks and throughout her veins.

For Charlotte is a vampire, witness to almost a century’s worth of death and destruction. But not since she was a human girl has mortality touched her.

In what way will you be transformed?

Until now.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

    Blood Roses by Francesca Lia-Block

What shall we do, all of us?

All of us passionate girls who fear crushing the boys we love with our mouths like caverns of teeth, our mushrooming brains, our watermelon hearts?

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

    Topmodel by Francesca Lia-Block

Once upon a time, in the bubble-gum-snapping, glitter polish-wearing, lip-gloss-applying San Fernando Valley, a gentle girl named Barbie met a feisty fairy named Mab: “Maybe Mab was real. Maybe there really are girls the size of pinkies with hair the color of the darkest red oleander blossoms and skin like the greenish-white underbellies of calla lilies…. But it doesn’t matter if Mab is real or imagined, Barbie thought, as long as I can see her.” Mab, with her crabby commentary and no-holds-barred opinions, gives Barbie the strength she needs to face the horrors casting a shadow over her life in sunny, shimmering California. How else could Barbie survive her over-perfumed, over-tanned, overbearing stage mother, dragging her daughter to modeling agencies in the gold-plated hope of reliving her younger days as a beauty queen? Or the “cadaver-pale skin” and “fleshy mouth” of Hamilton Waverly, the “crocodile pedophile” photographer who makes Barbie feel “like the doll she had been named for, without even a hole where her mouth was supposed to be”? Mab glimmers and gabs by Barbie’s side throughout her teen years as she becomes a successful fashion model, falls in love, and endures all the troubles that come along for the ride–in addition to facing the black secret of her past.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

  Ruby by Francesca Lia-Block

After growing up in an abusive family, Ruby escapes to Los Angeles and learns of her soulmate — Orion — a British actor. She travels to England, where she works at a potions and herbs shop, and through a series of coincidental circumstances, ends up nursing Orion back to health without confessing that she has been on a quest to find him all along. But just when she thinks her dream is becoming a reality, Ruby is stopped in her tracks by the violent demons of her past. Only by facing the darkness together can she and Orion finally fulfill their destiny.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

  Psyche in a Dress by Francesca Lia-Block

But this is what I could not give up: I could not give up myself.

Psyche has known Love–scented with jasmine and tasting of fresh oranges. Yet he is fleeting and fragile, lost to her too quickly. Punished by self-doubt, Psyche yearns to be transformed, like the beautiful and brutal figures in the myths her lover once spoke of. Attempting to uncover beauty in the darkness, she is challenged, tested, and changed by the gods and demons who tempt her. Her faith must be found again, for if she is to love, she must never look back.

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

    The Frenzy by Francesca Lia-Block

Liv has a secret.

Something happened to her when she was thirteen. Something that changed everything. Liv knows she doesn’t belong anymore—not in her own skin, not in her family . . . not anywhere. The only time she truly feels like herself is when she’s with her boyfriend, Corey, and in the woods that surround her town.

But in the woods, a mysterious woman watches Liv. In the woods, a pack of wild boys lurks. In the woods, Liv learns about the curse that will haunt her forever. The curse that caused the frenzy four years ago. And that may cause it again, all too soon.

While Corey and Liv’s love binds them together, Liv’s dark secret threatens to tear them apart as she struggles to understand who—or what—she really is. And by the light of the full moon, the most dangerous secrets bare their claws. . .

Keep or Ditch? Ditch

Bye-Bye Books: Decluttering my TBR #2 This post was inspired by Ally’s series (which was inspired by Lia at Lost in a Story…

[humansun]

14% Updates

14% on my laptop, so I got to push to document everything that happened this weekend!

Apart from that lengthy piece I posted today of my favorite quotes from AAL, I had a lot of other updates I wanted to share from this weekend.

On Thursday, I went to visit my sister and her partner and stayed for the weekend. I worked from home on Friday and we participated in delicious meal outings afterwards. It was a rough work day for all three of us, since we were all on edge from either making small mistakes or being micromanaged. We treated ourselves to Indian food, Potato Corner, Wetzel’s Pretzels, boba, and time to practice our own hobbies.

Leaving my house was a much needed escape from the unusual episode of depression I experienced this past week and the trapped feeling I had from being in a crappy home environment that does not welcome healing. Spending time with my sister is always a blast, but I always like to take note of the new things I learn or realize on a trip.

The first thing I realized was everything is relative and my current home would be an environment I would crave if I was spending three straight months in complete silence and solitude. Relativity is a concept that helps me come to terms with circumstances for what they are and accepting them (and me) as they are. Everything I feel is influenced by the relativity of how my surroundings are shaped and positioned.

When chatting with my sister, we began discussing her ability to reach creative agency at a level that lacks material and consumer distractions, which I find is less of agency, but more of freedom. This creative freedom is something I have not found within myself and it sparked an internal conversation about how to hone that skill despite my needs for finances and security. It is also an incredible ability to actively practice true creative expression without any consideration of external distractions.

Defining Asian-American culture for me has been difficult to define lately. I am only able to piece together what I learned from history courses in college, social media definitions, and bits and pieces of FB opinions about who we are and what we represent. If I am unable to define my own culture, then I cannot truly identify who I am and who I am proud of being. I loved having this conversation with my sister because we both had a hard time defining our own culture, but had lots to say about the nuances and internal struggles we experience as “foreign” people.

I binged watched a few videos on Youtube about Asian-American culture and the use of the term “oriental”. I have a lot of work to do in knowing more about who I am and who I stand for. But on the bright side this weekend, I also finished Rebel without a Crew by Robert Rodriguez and watched El Mariachi (1992). It was amazing. I binged a video about Akira Kurosawa who mentioned the importance of tenacity - a term my sister used earlier in the weekend to describe her own realizations.

Tenacity means to keep a tight grip, regardless of what you are going through and no matter how hard it gets. This was highlighted in AAL and in Kurosawa’s advice to aspiring filmmakers. These were all really important takeaways of my weekend in addition to my gratitude I feel for my sister.

There are certain days when life looks (really really) bleak and it’s evident in your blog posts and how you keep returning to the negativity of your life. But there are these days where you see the cloud has passed, and it may be floating back and forth for the next couple of weeks, but you can see the sun peaking out with a glimmer of hope.

With all of these thoughts comes a calmness and acceptance that in due time, I will reach my goals. The trajectory I am working towards is happening and it is a matter of time in which I will achieve them. Being with my sister in her quiet apartment gave me the space to hear my own thoughts and come to internal and external acceptance - acceptance for myself, my past, my present, my future, and for everything in between. Especially moments that I drop my sister off and have a car ride home with the full moon.

Things are looking brighter, but I am at peace with witnessing the grey cloud hover a bit. (Shoutout to bell hooks. Again!)

[skyfields]

00. Your pretty face reflects upon gargantuan Seattle buildings. It looks up at the joy of rare cloudless days, bright and beautiful, before the sky gobbles up the sunshine again. It pouts at a cafe on the top of a museum— observing an apathetic city, with a pretty, porcelain, doll-like gaze.

01. You are Kim Jinae, and you were born to Kim Sooah and Daejung, two immigrants from Daegu. Your father, everyone swears, loved you and eomma more than anything else. You never believed them. After all, if he loved you so much, then why did he leave you to go to Hell?

02. (At least, that’s what your maid says. Daejung gambled and scammed and drug-dealt till the day a bullet found its way into his brain. A man like that has surely gotten his due reward.)

02. When Richard Levy comes into your life, you are four and he is tall with salt-and-pepper hair and he looks down on you, his stormy suit slicing through the dove-wing Pacific sky. Yet his eyes, pitch black and brooding, glimmer with kindness as he looks into your own watery ones. You have always been easily lost, and all you wanted was an ice cream bar. The convenience store was not too far down the street from the children’s home, but you’re lucky it’s Richard Levy who appears like a guardian angel. He stoops to guide you.

03. You dive deep, deep into the crowds of people, unafraid with the gentle giant at your side. He and the aging old woman who runs the home step into her office and have a chat, glancing at you through the window all the while.

04. He is a bank mogul in Seattle, Washington. It is no difficult choice for the other children to wave as you drive away to Richard Levy’s Pike’s Place condominium.

05. Age ten, and you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

06. “Jinae,” croons Ingrid King, “is too difficult to say. Darling, give her another name.”

07. Ingrid King. You hated her from the moment you saw her. Father always told you to marry a person with kind eyes— someone who looked at you sweetly with love and affection, and you have always assumed he would do the same. But Ingrid— her eyes are pale, pale blue and dead, dead, dead. Her skin is stretched tight across her skull, her fingers skeletal, and her updo’d hair poorly-spun yellow yarn with expensive pearls slapped on. She is the sister-in-law of a friend of a friend… and she, the demon, has her sights set on your sweet father.

08. They plan a June wedding.

09. You attend as Juniper Levy. You chose the name carefully with your father. Juniper— Juniper, like the beloved trees that dot Puget Sound.

10. The bride’s side is surprised to see that the flower girl in her sweet lavender dress, famously beloved by the millionaire Richard Levy, princess of Seattle’s most prestigious banking family… has straight brows over pretty monolids over warm, chocolate eyes. “Juniper...” they coo, “Juniper…” And just like that, they love you.

11. When Ingrid Levy-King has her first child, you become Juniper Levy-Kim. The Levy-Kings, and the Levy-Kim— Juniper Levy-Kim, the fake-fake-fake who was born Jinae, the mousy little Asian girl playing pretend amongst aristocrats. Your father calls you still, with affection on his baritone voice— “Jinae, can you come down here a moment!”

12. “Jinae, my love,” he says, rugged fingers gentle when they pinch your jaw. Ingrid’s bone-stare regards you coolly. “Your brothers and sisters—” Her daughters and sons, you correct bitterly in your mind, “—will need an influence to look up to as they grow. Ingrid suggested you make a name for yourself.”

13. What Ingrid suggested with that slithering, slimy tongue, was to get you away. She can barely contain the disgusted looks, the smiles that are just a little too sweet, too saccharine— it is you, and you alone, who will always be the light of your father’s life. So you, Juniper Levy-Kim, age fourteen, beneath the wing of a private jet, kiss his cheek goodbye. And like that, you’re off.

14. You are to study abroad in Seoul. A surgeon, Ingrid says, or maybe a newscaster. But the plane touches down, and they— Worldwide Records— oh, do they have a different vision.

15. Your pretty face and rosy cheeks and sweet disposition are reminiscent of that of Cherish. Street-casting: it’s brutal and effective, and they lure you in with the promise of fame and love— and maybe, just maybe, they saw your eyes, red and puffy from a long flight spent crying— but maybe they understood that you were lonely.

16. Your father cancels your dorm and enrollment to the private academy and instead rents you an apartment suite right in the glitzy Worldwide neighborhood. There’s nothing that can be done about the tuition; nearly hundreds of thousands of dollars lost cancelling tuition then signing you to Worldwide, but his voice, soft over the phone, assures you that it’s nothing. That there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his little girl. You bark out a laugh then; even miles and miles away, not even Ingrid King can diminish your father’s love for you.

17. You train for two years. Never mind that you’ve never counted on a beat in your whole life, or that you hardly even know what a pitch is. But your voice is good enough that you debut, at sixteen, with Luxuri.

18. The Nation’s First Love, they call you. One of the Sweethearts of Worldwide. The Next Dahye. You’re glitzed in pink skirts and curled hair for miles. You even have a catchphrase: “Don’t leave me lonely, ‘kay?” It was something stupid from an idiot lip gloss commercial. But you, Juniper Levy-Kim—

19. You’ve fallen in love with love.

20. Every kiss you blow, every heart you make; it’s love, sheer love. Love for your fans, love for your group, love for your father, maybe even a little bit of twisted love for Ingrid King who sent you here. And you gobble up the love you receive in return, lick your sweetly-glossed lips and beam for the crowds who go wild at your request.

21. Then you meet him one day: Woojin. Woojin, Hero’s Woojin; it’s a miracle you haven’t met each other before, being signed under the same company. He’s heard of you— Luxuri has, by now, long since earned the name of the Holy Trinity. He’s charming and handsome and everything everyone says he would be. You’re surprised you thought you knew what love was before, because Woojin— he is it. Your nineteen-year-old heart is smitten.

22. But they find out. Worldwide always does. Woojin walks away unscathed, but you? You are made to fall to your knees and beg forgiveness for a hateless, heart-full crime. You were desperate to feel less lonely, and he gave you that fulfillment; yet he moves on, taking fragments of your heart with him, and you are left behind to scavenge what pieces you can.

23. And what sharp, jagged pieces they are. You go from one of the most loved women in the country to the most hated. You learn what it is like to be controlled, to be manipulated, to be made to beg for forgiveness on a national scale. They call you so many things after; there is no word too low for the girl who stole the heart of the Nation’s Boyfriend. Diva, slut, vixen.

24. That’s all you are.

25. Is that all you will ever be?

[crowcalamity]

🌟🔮 MᴄHᴀɴᴢᴏ Wᴇᴇᴋ Dᴀʏ 2: Cᴀɴᴏɴ Dɪᴠᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄᴇ/AU🔮🌟 Been busy for the past few days so I need to catch up ahhh. For the second day I decided to go for a Witch AU just cause I just love anything that has to do with Witchcraft. Here’s a quick Witch Hanzo doodle to compliment a small drabble I conjured up. Might make this into a proper full length thing, who knows. Enjoy!

❧ Love Spells

For the past month, Hanzo been weighing down different options and course of actions he could take to ask Jesse out. It was the last semester and soon they would part ways for the Summer break. His first year at the Overwatch Academy of Witchcraft had passed by like a breeze, and due to his excellent performance and examination results, his grades were the least of his problems at the current time.

It was the end of year ball and the Japanese man was clutching the tiny vail in his hand tightly. He could have never pictured himself in such a situation before. Feelings of hesitation were crawling into his being as he approached the punch table to fill a cup for him and his best friend who had decided to hang around the ball with him due to both being dateless. Of course that might have been different if the Asian Witch didn't shy out of asking the American out. But Hanzo Shimada had a fear and that was of rejection not to mention breaking apart their inseperable bond as friends. He had already accepted that his crush on Jesse wasn't going anywhere when his brother decided to interfere. The younger Shimada supplied him with a 'Love Potion' that one of his friends procured from the Headmaster's office. At first, Hanzo was completely against the idea but the little devil convinced him otherwise. And now there he was, vail in one hand and a cup of fruity punch in the other. He had already popped the cork from its top, all he had to do now is simply pour it in McCree's drink. After the other man drank the concoction, all that would remain was for him to kiss him before midnight struck.

It all sounded simple and the first couple of steps went by smoothly with no problem at all.

The clock chimed eleven o'clock. The Japanese Witch had a full hour to try and slip away with the cowboy fanatic to claim his lips into the kiss that would bound their fates together. He thought he had the opportunity when Jesse went out onto the balcony of the grand ballroom for a smoke however, their converstion steered into a direction that made Hanzo regret ever taking the potion vail from his brother.

"There's this someone that has really caught m'eye, Hanners," said the American Witch and took a deep draw from his smuggled cigar before exhaling it out in a small cloud of smoke. The older male concentrated on the gray smoke and after a few seconds, it converged into the shape of a mare, galloping away as it vanished into the air. "A real sweetheart they are but I don't think they have it for me. They're sophisticated and smart and refined, I doubt they'd be interested in someone like me ya know?"

A feeling of dread formed at the pit of Hanzo's stomach. How could he carry on with his plan knowing that the man he fancied was longing for someone else? After a few moments of silence, Hanzo broke the quiet stillness of the night with his own advice on the situation. "If I were you, I'd suck it up and ask them out... you might end up regretting it later if you don't."

More silence followed, the cowboy staring straight up ahead at the stars above, a certain glimmer in his eyes before he lazily turned his head around to face the Japanese man again. "Maybe I might," said Jesse, a warm smile crawling over his lips, "Yeah, I'll ask 'em tonight." The words only worsened the forming nausea in Hanzo's stomach. He might actually feel sick. And it seemed that it wasn't just him that was noticing that.

"Ah Hanzo, are ya 'right? Ya don't look fine at all," pointed out McCree as his smiling, peaceful face melded into one of worry, "You lookin' as pale as death."

"A-Ah, I'm fine," quickly replied the other man as he took a couple of steps back, "If you could um, excuse me for a second." As he turned around and headed back inside, making a beeline to the bathrooms, the American's worry only grew.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨

It was only about fifteen minutes later that the eldest Shimada reemerged from the restrooms, looking visibly shaken after throwing up. He couldn't carry on with his plan, he'd feel too guilty if he did so. "Maybe if I don't complete the spell the potion wears off as if nothing ever happened," he muttered to himself.

But it wasn't that easy, it never is for the Japanese magic user.

"What's the matter, brother?"

Genji's voice resounded in his ears as his brother appeared before him. "I'm fine Genji, I just felt a little sick. I'll be better in no time," said Hanzo. The younger of the pair gave a small nod to the other before his eyes went wide. "Hanzo! Have you succeeded with the potion I gave you?" he exclaimed, remembering the reason why he had been searching for his brother, "Did you manage to get it into his drink alright?"

"Ah, that part I managed to get in there with no issue at all. Yet I cannot carry on with the rest of the plan as he has his heart set out for someone else."

"Shit Hanzo, listen to me," Genji said, a worried expression taking over his features, "I can see your point in not wanting to carry on with the task at hand but you must. And before you speak over me and interrupt me, here's why; that potion has side effects. The good one is making someone who isn't in love with you yearn for you more than anything in this world. That happens when you seal the deal with a kiss. However, should you fail to do that before the clock strikes the middle of the night, Jesse would fall in a coma for who knows how long. You have to go out there and kiss him at this very moment."

"Why didn't you tell me any of the bad repercussions before!?" exclaimed Hanzo before he looked over at the mounted wall clock, the time reading to ten minutes to midnight. "Well I assumed you'd go through with it till the end," sighed Genji but before he could say anything else, his older sibling had already bolted away from him in search for the American. First off he went to the balcony where he left him but he was  no longer there. Going back into the ballroom, he started pushing past the crowds to try to locate McCree. He asked around for any signs of Jesse and at the end he found him in the corner of the room, chattering away with Angela. Hanzo swore that his heart skipped a beat as he saw them and he was already thinking of rushing back up into his room if it weren't for the fact that the American would collapse in a couple of minutes unless he kissed him. Yet he found himself frozen to the spot he was in regardless. His best friend seemed so happy as he hanged out with the blonde. She was a kind and loving person, not to mention a talented Witch and one of the most beautiful girls in their year with her purely angelic nature, fitting with her name. And he was about to ruin everything with his failure to carry on with the stupid love potion.

No, he was going to kiss McCree and then ask for help to reverse the spell. He would not ruin the opportunity for him. He glanced over the clock and his eyes widened in terror as he saw that it was only a couple of seconds to midnight. His feet finally found their strength again as he pushed past his classmates and went towards the pair.

"Jesse!"

The cowboy's head sharply turned to face Hanzo but whatever he said next the Japanese man would never know as the clock loudly chimed to signal that it was midnight. 

That was it, thought Hanzo as he slumped onto the ground, looking downwards as tears started to swell in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Jesse..." he said, speaking softly as he waited to hear the other's body fall onto the ground in a state of eternal unconsciousness. However that thump never came. Instead, two strong arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him up against a warm, soft body. "It's a'right darlin, Angela told me everything about you and yer brother's little plan," came McCree's voice against the Japanese man's ear. Hanzo looked up, sniffing slightly as he looked into the cowboy's chocolate brown eyes. "Did she give you the antidote?" came his reply, his voice sounding weak. McCree shook his head in disagreement. "Then how are you ... I don't understand ... "

"Well I didn't at first too. I thought it was a placebo potion, if that makes sense, you know, to force you into show your true feelings yet it's the real deal after all. Although, I am how do I say it, immune to it."

"How is that possible ... ?"

"That concoction is to charm people who aren't in love into it yeah? Well now, it doesn't work if the person is already in love with someone. And that person Hanners, is you. I didn't need a potion to feel the way I do about you. It's all natural."

The tears were freely falling from Hanzo's eyes, rolling down his cheeks as a small smile crept upon his lips. How foolish he had been, all this time chasing after something, a love, that already existed, that was already there. A pair of soft plump lips found themselves over his own and he gingerly kissed the cowboy back, relishing in their first kiss together. He could hear his brother, hollering and wolf whistling a couple of feet behind him in the audience as he embraced McCree. After a few moments, Jesse pulled away and a wide grin plastered itself on his flustered face.

"So Hanzo, baby, would you like to ... go to the dance with me?" "It would be an honour, Jesse McCree."

[mastcomm]

In Hong Kong, the Coronavirus Strikes a Wounded City

HONG KONG — Hong Kong has suffered through months of political protests. Its economy is shrinking. Mistrust divides its people from its leaders. Locals and expatriates alike already talk openly about leaving.

Now the coronavirus is dealing the Asian financial capital another devastating blow. Airlines are cutting service, isolating an international city from the rest of the world. Schools are closed. Panicked residents are hoarding rice, face masks and — in the latest run — toilet paper.

In the air runs a new emotion for a city where the glimmering skyline once seemed to promise riches and opportunity: fear.

“We don’t know when it will end or how much worse it will get,” said Amber Suen, a flight attendant with Cathay Pacific, the beleaguered Hong Kong airline that on Wednesday asked its 27,000 employees to take three-week unpaid furloughs to save money.

Ms. Suen endured Hong Kong’s earlier problems, like the outbreak 17 years ago of SARS, which killed almost 300 people and briefly knocked the territory’s economy off track. This time feels different, she said, as Hong Kong endures political, economic and social crises all at once.

“During SARS,” she said, “people were still working together.”

The new coronavirus, which has killed hundreds and sickened thousands in mainland China, has been much less prevalent in Hong Kong. One person has died and at least 25 have been infected, mostly while traveling in the mainland. Its hospitals are respected around the world, and its grocery stores remain largely well stocked.

The world is not drawing a distinction, however, in part because the city has tightened but not fully closed the border with the mainland. As a result, people in this global city are feeling increasingly cut off.

The multinational companies that helped make this city global are restricting travel there. Some are advising or requiring returning employees to quarantine themselves. And getting to Hong Kong is becoming increasingly difficult: Virgin Australia on Thursday joined United Airlines and American Airlines in cutting service.

Italy has suspended flights from Hong Kong, while the Philippines and Taiwan are requiring arrivals to go into quarantine. Even the city’s Philippine domestic workers, a mostly female group of 200,000 who toil inside Hong Kong’s tiny apartments to support their families back home, were told this week that they would need to undergo a 14-day quarantine if they returned to the Philippines.

This week the organizers of Art Basel Hong Kong, a major event in the arts world, said they would cancel the event.

Updated Feb. 5, 2020

Where has the virus spread? You can track its movement with this map.

How is the United States being affected? There have been at least a dozen cases. American citizens and permanent residents who fly to the United States from China are now subject to a two-week quarantine.

What if I’m traveling? Several countries, including the United States, have discouraged travel to China, and several airlines have canceled flights. Many travelers have been left in limbo while looking to change or cancel bookings.

How do I keep myself and others safe? Washing your hands is the most important thing you can do.

While the global reaction may be extreme, the threat can feel real in such a densely populated city, where apartments and offices are stacked on top of each other, sometimes 40 stories or more.

On Wednesday, managers of a Hong Kong skyscraper called Kowloon Commerce Center said someone who worked there had been diagnosed with the coronavirus. The building’s other tenants include Bank of America, the Swiss bank UBS, the phone giant China Mobile and international shipping companies.

The sudden isolation only adds to the economic pain. For months, antigovernment protesters have filled the streets to demand that the pro-Beijing government give them greater say in how the city is run and to protest the Chinese government’s growing sway. Violence and tear gas already scared away many mainland tourists and business visitors.

Jewelers, luxury retailers and cosmetics shops that catered to mainland tourists are closing outlets. Restaurants have closed and hotel rooms are vacant. Unsurprisingly, unemployment is on the rise.

“This is a postprotest, frying-pan-into-the-fire situation for a lot of Hong Kong retailers,” said Robert Cooper, founder of Enoteca, a restaurant catering to the business community.

Most of his tables are empty. Mr. Cooper said he was running a skeleton staff after firing 30 percent of his chefs and waiters. In January, he was forced to shut down Iberico & Co., another restaurant, after months of empty tables and lost revenue.

“Months of protests and the fear of getting caught in tear gas has had an impact on business,” said Mr. Cooper, who got his start in Hong Kong as a waiter 26 years ago. “Now the virus bites into our other businesses.”

Other factors make Hong Kong more vulnerable than it was during SARS 17 years ago. China back then was still developing and growing by double digits, and it needed Hong Kong’s money and expertise. Today, China’s growth has matured, and many companies no longer use Hong Kong as a gateway into the world’s No. 2 economy.

More fundamentally, many Hong Kong people no longer have faith in their government to make the right decisions.

“We’ve been double-hit by social unrest and a government that is just disappointing,” said Paul Yip, a professor and director at Hong Kong University. “They don’t know how to deal with unrest, and they don’t know how to handle the virus.”

Citizens had already grown nervous about their government. Hong Kong is a semiautonomous Chinese region, with an independent legal system and guaranteed individual rights, but its top leadership is selected by a process controlled by Beijing.

Many in Hong Kong fear the growing power of the mainland Chinese government in the city’s affairs, especially after the high-profile disappearances of people wanted or disliked by Beijing with little reaction from city officials. The tensions boiled over late last spring, when Hong Kong’s leaders tried to pass legislation that would allow extradition of criminal suspects to mainland China, where the justice system is controlled by the Communist Party.

City leaders backed down, but by then, clashes between demonstrators and the police had become increasingly violent. Hong Kong’s population became frustrated as city officials dismissed evidence of excessive police violence. Angry voters dealt their leaders a sharp rebuke in November, when pro-democracy candidates swept elections for lower-level offices.

Now that mistrust of the government is spilling over into anger about the response to the outbreak.

About 7,000 medical workers have gone on strike, demanding that Hong Kong fully close the border with the mainland. The union, the Hospital Authority Employees Alliance, which was formed during the protest, said the striking members represented about 10 percent of public hospital employees. Workers on Friday voted to end the strike.

Small explosions have been set off in some places, the latest on Tuesday in a public restroom near a public housing complex. Online, people claiming responsibility have demanded a closure of the border.

Carrie Lam, Hong Kong’s top government official, has resisted calls to completely close the border with the mainland. Instead, she has introduced a series of steps that have cut arrivals. Her critics say those moves are not enough.

Even Hong Kong’s pro-government leaders have signaled dissatisfaction with Mrs. Lam as the economy continues to reel.

Jasper Tsang, a founder of the city’s largest pro-establishment party and former president of the legislature, said the city had little of the solidarity shown during SARS, when he was a member of the chief executive’s cabinet.

“The government slogan is, ‘Let us unite and fight the virus,’” he said. “But the unity doesn’t seem to be there.”

Tommy Cheung, a member of Hong Kong’s legislative council representing the catering industry, said, “Right now, I don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Where is the help coming from?” he asked. “Where is the end of the virus and the end of the riots?”

On Hong Kong’s streets, where nearly everybody but smokers and expatriates were wearing face masks, the mistrust of the government took the form of rumors and panic buying. Rice and vegetables disappear quickly, though shelves get restocked quickly and supermarket chains say they have adequate supplies.

After rumors circulated that China had forced toilet paper manufacturers to make face masks, toilet paper this week disappeared from supermarket shelves. Local shoppers snatched them as they were delivered to shelves, and filled their carts with big packages of rolls.

Dairy Farm Group, which runs the Wellcome supermarket chain, said the rumors were false and that it was “working closely with our suppliers to provide sufficient and diversified choices of products to our customers.”

As city leaders offered assurances, residents rushed to buy face masks. Early morning lines in front of pharmacies have become a familiar sight, as have signs declaring that supplies are out. On Thursday, a group of Hong Kong physicians told reporters that their clinics might have to close some days if they do not have enough.

“My patients ask ‘Doctor, can I get 10 masks from you?’” Douglas Chan, a general practitioner, said. “I tell them, ‘Sorry, I don’t have enough either.’”

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/in-hong-kong-the-coronavirus-strikes-a-wounded-city/

[griffinriot]

thank u, next

I never post anything personal on here anymore. I actually don’t really post original content anywhere anymore, but I thought it was time for a Year in Review. It’s been... interesting.

EDIT: I guess I wrote this more for me than for my followers, but it felt nice to organise my brain by shouting into the void.

First, and most importantly, I made it out alive. And I made it out okay. There were long stretches this year where I thought my grief was going to drown me. I distinctly remember standing in the back stairwell at work, arms crossed around myself, feeling like I was genuinely falling apart. I remember sobbing on the kitchen floor, curled up in a ball because I couldn’t breathe anymore. I have never felt such a crushing weight as I did in that moment. Not since Sisi’s funeral. She’s been gone two years, and I was horrified to find that once the shock had worn off that I actually felt worse than when she was first gone.

I have a great family, and a great frambly, and they helped me limp through the worst times. Sometimes it felt like they were carrying me, and I will hold that in my heart forever. I remember it being so unbelievably hard one day, and just looking in the eyes of a friend and they just nodded. I couldn’t put it into words, couldn’t explain that I felt like the floor had fallen out from below me, but they made me feel heard anyway. 

I learned that, no matter how much you want someone to, they can never have a magic fix for your pain. You think back over these moments after, and you wonder what if they’d said this or that, would that have made it better in the moment. I know now that nothing can take that pain away, but the care, the concern, the effort, that is what you have to hold on to in the dark moments. Nobody has the secret to making you feel better, but they can make you feel heard and safe, and that is as close as you can get.

In happier news, I feel so much better. Grief comes in waves, and sometimes they feel like they’ll swallow you, but eventually they die down again. I’ve gotten better at talking about it, I’m developing a vocabulary for heavy days. I still cry a lot, but now I cry when I’m happy too, which is kind of nice.

We drove down the coastal road of California, singing Beyonce, getting lost, watching the sunset over the Pacific. I have never felt more free. I cried with my Mum at the beauty of wee kids singing along with Coco at the Disneyland fireworks. Life gives you miracles in unexpected places, and seeing those kids feel like they belong, really belong, at the happiest place on earth was pure magic. We danced at a party with the characters, belting out One Direction as the bubble machines went full blast. It was surreal, but a perfect moment. Travelling with my family is always and adventure, and travelling them now that I’m independent is extra-special. We’re all real adult people now, and that allows us to be best friends. I am grateful for them every day.

I saw Taylor Swift’s reputation tour. That was a night I’ll remember forever. Something about Long Live/New Year’s Day fixed something that was broken in me. I cried, but they were healing tears. I will tell my children, with real pride, about Sisi. About all the girls. About the nonsense, the shenanigans, the good times and the bad that we made it through together. It’s been nice talking about her again with friends. It’s been nice to remember her. It’s nice to be able to say her name again, to talk about that huge portion of my life that she was a part of. It’s nice to think about what she’d tell me to do, to say. She’d always tell me to take that chance, to stop being stupid and just do something. She’d ask why I was staying silent, why I wasn’t making the moves I wanted. She’d literally shake sense into me. She’d roll her eyes and tell me to stop making everything so complicated. She’d tell me to cut the crap. To be blunt. 

She’d tell me that she was proud, but she’d say it in a way that it was obvious that I would succeed.

This year I was a judge on a literary panel again, so this time I was the veteran judge. All these industry professionals, and I was expected to take the lead. So I did. I presented the shortlist to an audience of 250 ish people. I was scared. I was nervous. But I knew I had this. So I just did it. 

I did an intense assault course with my bestie. I went back to reading and writing fanfiction. I bought a car. I read every book that Muriel Spark ever wrote. I saw Crazy Rich Asians three times in the cinema, and each time I loved it more. I took photographs, took up scrapbooking, and kept a diary. My self-love has become more natural, and it goes all the way down now. I look in the mirror and see a confident, beautiful woman. I truly like her. She’s pretty rad. 

I complicated a relationship that wasn’t ready to be complicated, but I don’t regret speaking my truth. I’ve dealt with the fallout as much as I can, and we’re as solid as we ever were, but I still have a glimmer of hope that something lovely will come from this. If not, it’s all good, I’m happy to remain as we were/are. Or, more accurately, I will be. Typically, the boy I’d have previously wanted something to happen with came around too late. Timing is a funny thing, and I think this is truly for the best, because that would’ve been a terrible match. But it’s still kind of a shame. 

I’ll enter 2019 with the same ideas that I entered 2018 with. I will continue to do everything that makes me fee free. I will focus on being happy. I will work hard, and this year my career will take another important step forward. I will focus on my creative outlets. I will prioritise my friends more. I will laugh and cry often, and I will allow myself to feel everything. 

I pray you will have a great new year, and that I will too. Thanks for making it through my messy stream of consciousness. X