#again tell me if I mis worded something or if I got something incorrect

[q-starhalo]

I never thought about it til just now but you can literally tell that Bad did lose 7 children.

Chayanne - While yes, as of recent there hasn't been much interaction between the two, you can tell Chayanne trusts his uncle Bad just like Phil does. I mean, Phil literally said that a big reason why Bad has access to the bunker was because Bad always keeps an eye out for the egg and will do anything to protect them. And Chayanne and Bad spent a lot of time together! Bad had made a dungeon for Chayanne and was planning on making another one. If Phil can't make, he'll just go to Bad and get his quests done. So if anything happened to Chayanne, Bad would feel highly guilty because Phil and Chayanne trusted him to keep him safe.

Tallulah - Tallulah and Bad are just really sweet (and sad) whenever they're together. Heck, Tallulah mentioned how she sees him and Phil as father figures. Whenever Tallulah feels bad and Phil isn't there, she goes to Bad. She asks him for a hug, for him to tuck her into bed, for him to read one of her papa's letters. She trusts him oh so much that if Bad loses her....oh the guilt he'd have

Ramon - This one, if anything, is pretty self-explanatory. Dapper and Ramon are close to the hip. No questions asked. Bad and Fit would spend a lot of time together babysitting them to the point that if Fit wasn't around, Ramon would follow Bad and Dapper. If I remember correctly, Ramon mentioned how Bad was like a father to him. And somewhat recently! Ramon was on and Bad saw he was alone and Ramon showed him the improvements he's done and any cool machine! So yeah, he'd feel guilty because Ramon saw him as a father figure and Bad just let him down

Leo - I don't care what you think, Leo and Bad always have the best interactions DESPITE the language barrier. With Bad only knowing English and Leo knowing mostly Spanish, they still make it work! If Bad says anything in English, he'd make sure to repeat some keywords in Spanish that he knows to make sure Leo understands what he's trying to say and Leo uses the translation bubbles (I assume) as well! Even in the early days, Bad and Leo spent a good amount of time with each other due to bothering mostly Foolish. There's a reason why Dapper, Leo, and Ramon are considered the triplets of the group. Bad and Leo just have that good dynamic. And Bad losing his niece that would teach him some Spanish and was fun to have around....yeah, he'd feel so much guilt

Richarlyson - Don't know what to tell you. They have spent so many nights together that Richas had a crazy amount of time on the server, only beaten by Bad because he is also crazy. Bad considers him like a son and if anything happened to him, he'd feel so empty without the egg that would just run around.

Pomme - That's his daughter. That's his daughter. He'd do almost anything to protect her. And it's incredible to see Bad's paranoia and anger rub off on Pomme like when Bad was angry at Quackity for kidnapping Dapper. If anything happened to her he'd go feral yet feel so hopeless because that was his daughter.

Dapper - That's his porcupine. His sunshine. His everything. They joke but they're still together. Bad would sing "You are my Sunshine" to Dapper anytime he felt down or he made a mistake. Dapper would always hit her father's head with a shovel but hit someone else's once they speak badly about him. They're each other's lights. It's them against the world always. And if his sunshine is gone, he'd be angry, yes, but he'd be so lost. He failed them.

He failed them all. He failed to protect them. He failed to take care of them. He failed. He failed. Sorry sorry sorry sorry. He failed them and he's so sorry

[mrs-gucci]

Wedding Bells [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. maurizio calling reader “tesoro”™️. some wedding shit. light aftercare. grinding. creampie. implied consent. dirty talk, name-calling/degradation but in italian ;)

(possible) tw’s: infidelity/extramarital affair. brief mentions of tobacco use. implied age gap (reader is over 21, no more than 10 years difference).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname)

You can’t believe this is really happening.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You’re supposed to be the one in the white gown, the one set to marry Maurizio Gucci. 

He insists that this overzealous ceremony is just for the press, that he’s not truly in love with her, but sometimes you see him looking at her and you lose faith. 

You almost didn’t come today. You almost just stayed at the house and pretended that this never happened, but you know that even if this marriage is a sham, it’s still a big day for Maurizio. 

And I can’t say no to him.

The crowd cheers as they kiss up at the altar, turning to face everyone in the church with big smiles on their faces. You clap softly, forcing a smile upon your face as they walk down the aisle together. 

He looks so handsome in his suit, the striped pants and impeccably polished black leather loafers completing the look. Maurizio was always dressed to the nines, but today, he was dressed to the tens. 

His eyes meet yours, and his face falls for a moment when he reads the underlying sadness etched in your outwardly happy expression. 

Everyone starts piling out of the church and you go along with them, hopping into one of the cars to take everyone to the headquarters for the reception. 

The car pulls up to the building a few minutes later, and you walk in, taking a deep breath. 

You should just go home, Y/N. You went to the reception, and that’s enough.

You look around at the decorated walls, all the guests mingling happily, all here in support of Maurizio and Patrizia. 

You’re here too, sure, but you feel oddly out of place standing amongst the other guests.

Perhaps it’s because you’re the only non-native guest here. Perhaps it’s because you’re not here in support of the couple. 

You find my place at one of the front tables and of course, you’re sat facing Maurizio, practically head-on. Great.

The meal is served and the room goes essentially silent as everyone begins dining. You make some casual conversation with the people sitting around you, some of them your coworkers, but you can’t stop myself from looking over at the groom from time to time. 

As night runs into early morning, you’ve found some solace in the champagne and the company of Giovanni, someone you’ve come to really like spending time with. You both have a lot in common and you get on great; you’re always joking around the office. 

Each time you begin talking with Giovanni, however, you feel a particular set of eyes on you. And, when you look over, you’re met with the deep brown eyes of your lover. 

You show him no reaction, simply smiling sweetly each time your eyes meet, as if you were simply boss and employee. 

Soon, you feel utterly suffocated by the thick air of the room, so you decide to step outside for a short while. You hope to slip out unnoticed, and you do for a little bit, but then someone comes out behind you. 

You don’t even need to turn around to see who it is, and the familiar sound of a lighter gives all the confirmation you needed.

Maurizio walks out and leans over the balcony, a thin cloud of smoke passing through his lips as he looks out onto the horizon. 

“I…”

He begins, trailing off. 

“Have you gotten a slice of cake yet? It’s quite good.”

You huff with a drop of humor.

“No, but maybe I’ll do that now, since this balcony is no longer exclusive to just me.”

As you turn around and begin to walk towards the door, his hand snatches your wrist and pulls you back. Your body collides with his, your back pressed against his front. 

You can feel his smoky breath against your ear, and your skin erupts in goosebumps. 

“Please, stay. I want to speak with you.”

There’s a brief moment where you truly believe that you’re going to say no this time, that you’re going to walk away.

But I can’t say no to him.

He feels you relax and lets go of your wrist, allowing you to return to the railing. He stands behind you, taking another drag. 

“I guess I should begin by apologizing, for you having to sit through the ceremony.”

You take a sip of champagne. 

“As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m simply your assistant.”

“Yes, but I know that you’re more, much more, than that. I can’t imagine that sitting there the whole time was easy. But, I want you to know that I appreciate you coming, it would’ve been weird not seeing you today.”

You look over your shoulder, up at him.

“You know I’ll always be here for you, Maurizio.”

He smiles down at you. “I promise that it won’t always be like this for us, tesoro. Things will change, and we will be able to show our love to the world.”

His hand runs down your arm gently, then falls to your hip, where he squeezes lightly. 

“You look so beautiful tonight. I wish I could kiss you, touch you, worship you like you deserve.”

You blush, stepping back a bit, now fully pressed up against him. His breath catches in his throat as his hand comes forward and trails up, fingers teasing just below your breasts. 

He leans forward, lips leaving a series of open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“It’s been nearly impossible to stay away from you, mi tesoro. I just want to have you right here, right now…”

A whimper escapes your lips as his trail down to your shoulder. 

“Potrei alzare il vestito e fotterti, climelo.” (I could just pull your dress up and fuck you, christ.)

He breathes, grinding his hips against you, growling lowly in your ear. 

“Piegati sulla ringhiera, ti fa urlare il mio nome…” (Bend you over the railing, make you scream my name…)

You’re breathless as you try to resist the urge to let him take you right here. 

But, you know you can’t, it’s way too risky. Someone’s bound to notice.

“Maurizio…”

You whisper. 

“We can’t, not here.”

Something seems to switch in his brain and he freezes suddenly, almost as if he’s been snapped back into reality. He stands up straight again, breath shaky as he takes a final drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand through his hair. 

You turn around, resting your hands on his chest, staring up into his eyes. 

“It’s okay.”

“I need to have you tonight, tesoro, please.”

Maurizio says, resting his forehead on yours, lips mouthing at yours. 

You sigh.

“How? There are people everywhere, it’s too risky.”

A smirk suddenly stretches across his face.

“No one will be in my office bathroom…”

You bite your lip, holding back a smile. 

“Shall we meet in there?”

“I’ll have to sit with Patrizia for a little while, talk to some people, just to keep up appearances.”

He says, nodding. 

“But, how about we meet there in...let’s say an hour?”

“Saro li l’accordo.” (I’ll be there.)

You say, smiling up at him. 

He returns the expression. 

“Allora ci vediamo.” (See you then.)

One Excruciatingly Long Hour Later

You quietly step into Maurizio’s office, gasping when a pair of arms wraps around your waist, pulling you into the office. You look up and see him, immediately jumping into his arms, crashing your lips together. 

He carries you into the hidden bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him. His gaze is hungry as his darkened eyes rake up and down your dress-clad figure. 

“Bend over.”

He growls, head nodding towards the marble vanity. 

You bend yourself over, resting on your elbows. There isn’t much time before someone notices Maurizio’s missing, and you can tell he knows this as well, a sense of urgency in his fingers as he undoes his belt and pants.

You look at his reflection in the mirror, the sight of him in his wedding suit incredibly arousing, a certain sense of promiscuity surrounding us. Even more so than usual.

Maurizio quickly bends down and pulls the dress up over your hips, moving your panties to the side before rubbing his tip through your wetness. 

“We’ll have to be quick.”

He says, looking at you through the mirror’s reflection.

You nod, and he lines himself up with your entrance, chin resting on your shoulder as he pushes in, sighing loudly. 

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock stretching you out deliciously. You whimper as he pulls back and thrusts back in, your body jolting with his forward motion. 

“Tesoro.”

He moans into your ear, picking up the rhythm of his hips. 

“You’re so pretty.”

“O-Oh, Maurizio.”

You whimper, walls clenching around him.

One of his hands comes up from your hip and wraps around your throat, fingers shaking your jaw slightly. 

“Guardati, tesoro, guardati ti scopa allo specchio.”  (Look at you, treasure, watch yourself get fucked in the mirror.)

Your eyes go wide when you look at the reflection, seeing Maurizio positioned behind you, hips jackhammering into you. His glasses are steaming up slightly and his brow is furrowed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

Our eyes meet in the mirror and we moan together, the sight so erotic. 

“Per favore, fottimi di piu!” (Please, fuck me harder!)

You say, pushing your hips back against him. 

“Sono cosi vicino!” (I’m so close!)

A low growl rumbles through his chest and his back arches as he pounds you harder, turning his head so that his lips are right at your ear, breathing heavy.

“Si, tu sborra per me? Vuoi guardarti su tutto il mio uccello?”  (Yeah, are you going to cum for me? Are you going to watch yourself cum all over my cock?)

You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the loud noises threatening to spill from your lips. 

“M-Muh...M-Maurizio!”

You cry out, hips jerking as you spill your release all over his cock.

“Ah, oh fuck!”

He’s close, too, now.

“Sto per sborra! Oh Dio, ti riempiro io!” (I’m going to cum! Oh God, I’m going to fill you up!)

“Fallo, ti prego! Lo voglio tantissimo!” (Do it, please! I want it so badly!)

His eyes go wide for a moment as his hips stop, pressed deeply inside of you. He cums with a long, low moan, hips rutting as he rides out his high. 

“Prendila, prendila dentro di te...” (Take it, take it all inside of you…)

You fall forward onto the cool marble, body limp for a minute after your climax. Maurizio stays buried deep inside of you until he regains control of his breath, pulling his now-limp length from you, quickly tucking it back into his wedding pants. 

He helps you pull your dress back down and straighten yourself out. 

You gasp when he spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, holding you against him. Your lips meld together perfectly, your hands gently tugging on his hair. 

You two pull away moments later, panting softly. 

Maurizio looks sad as he reaches down to hold your hands.

“You’re amazing, beautiful, you’re perfection.”

He kisses your knuckles, which makes you smile. 

“Ci vediamo presto, tesoro mio.” (I will see you soon, my treasure)

You nod, lip quivering slightly when the reality hits. He’ll be gone for two weeks on his honeymoon. 

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close, allowing a single tear to fall down your cheek. 

“I’ll miss you while you’re away.”

He buries his face into your neck.

“I will call you at some point, I promise.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the office door. It’s Giovanni.

“Maurizio, ci sei?” (Maurizio, are you in there?)

His eyes go wide as he pulls away.

“Si! Sarò fuori tra un attimo.” (Yes! I’ll be out in a moment.)

Maurizio looks down at you one last time, tears in his eyes.

“Addio, tesoro mio. Fino a quando ci incontriamo di nuovo.” (Farewell, my treasure. Until we meet again.)

[fireemblemtcg]

“The Cipher Frontier!” Issue 58: “Cipher Will Never Die!”

"The Cipher Frontier! With Emma, Shade, Yuzu, Randal, Alice, Val, Niamh & Poe" was a regular column on the Fire Emblem Cipher website which summarized upcoming news concerning Cipher and other Fire Emblem materials. It was presented by the eight mascot characters. The following is a full translation of the 58th and final issue of the column, which was originally published on 31 March 2021.

More Fire Emblem Cipher translations!

Hello, everybody!!!!!!!!

It's been over five years since Cipher launched - and, for that matter, The Cipher Frontier! itself...

And today... we bring you the last one!

Sniff... So this is really it...

Aye, it certainly is a bitter occasion.

With the moment upon us, I find myself overcome with emotion. Yet at the same time, I cannot help but sorely wish that this day had never come at all.

Well, it... It doesn't bother m-m-me... Not... one...

BWAAAAAAAAAAAH! I C-C-CAN'T TAKE THIS!

E-easy, milady! You swore before we began that you would not cry!

I, too, owe very, very much to all of you, so... I am very sad.

Where there is a beginning, so too shall there be an end... It is an inevitability.

Still, one might argue that as long as there are still decks to play with and opponents to challenge... Cipher may be played for eternity. So think not on this as the end, for this is but a milestone of life.

Sniff... So this isn't farewell?

Not in the least! All of our players can still continue to get together to play Cipher. So as sad as you might be now to see the game end, the feeling won't last! And I, for one, would like to close out our final day with a smile.

To that end, I propose that we all share some parting words. You first, Emma!

Alrighty! Well, I've been here since the beginning, but... Back then, I was an absolute noob, wasn't I? I didn't have the faintest idea what a "Tea See Gee" even was!

But then I learned so much from Shade, and I presented news, participated in Tryout and Gathering events, and watched Live Broadcasts - and all of that gave me the chance to grow so much.

And then as the days went by, we got to meet Yuzu and Randal, Alice and Valjean, and Niamh and Poe, and we all always had a riot of a time playing Cipher together... It's all been like something out of a dream!

Lastly, I just want to say thank you...

To all of you who've been reading our column to date, thank you tho thuch!

Ha! Is that a slip of the tongue I hear?

Why, I do believe it was... And of all the words to flub, at that.

H-heh heh heh! I guess I am still just a kid after all... But mark my words, I'll be working even harder to become a mature, full-fledged knight! Okay, let's try this again... Thank you all!

Well, I'm next! I was primarily tasked with hosting this column and presenting news.

But the work introduced me to more and more friends, and to a constant stream of announcements that were news to me myself... To lose it is like I've also lost my reason to exist, but at least I am left with fond memories of it all.

My desire to convey the appeal of Cipher to others hasn't wavered in the slightest, but... this is the last time it will ever happen here. Alas. Still, I will always be rooting for all of you, even if we don't see each other.

There will always be a bond between us - always. Remember that whenever you play Cipher and see our cards. On this, you have my word! This has been Shade, shepherd of wayward lambs, saying farewell!

Alright, then. You're next, Yuzu!

...

Huh? Yuzu! What's gotten into you? Would you just get out here?

Er, forgive me. When everybody's gaze turned upon me, I could not help but immediately seek shelter...

Oh, yeah. You never did like public speaking, did you, Yuzu?

Of course! We had a devil of a time convincing you to come out at all for your very first column.

E-enough! That was many years ago: a d-d-difficulty that I have long since moved past!

Hrr-hrr-hrr... heh-HEM! L-l-let us, er, begin anew.

I am Yuzu. My contribution to this column was to introduce cards that afforded new styles of play... only to let a haze of utter passion promptly consume me and hence spend my every waking hour crafting decks from them and trialling them in matches.

You always were one to cry, "I must test these cards at once!" and throw yourself into obsessive research.

As such, I have acquired an eye for strategy, forged in the fires of Cipher, to incorporate into my prior mastery of the martial arts - and with that, at long last, I have come to an understanding of the very heart of warcraft.

Further, as a consequence I may declare with confidence that, should I ever find my brother, I shall be able to hold my head high for all that I have grown in his absence. For that, you have my most heartfelt gratitude. So end my parting words!

Thank you, Yuzu. Right, it's your turn, Randal!

Huh? Oh, right then!

I've got a motto: always take your games deathly serious, and always make your own fun on the job… And, well, this has been my chance to prove those words true.

I mean yeah, I'm a wanderer at heart; I might've stuck around a bit too long... but that's just because this was all a hell of a lot of fun.

Oh, I agree... It was a HELL of a lot of fun!

GAH! It's... It's you!

Well, well. We have a stranger among us!

Pah! "Stranger," indeed. This hair, this face, this ribbon... None of this ring a bell?

Eh? Do you... do you mean Randal?

Indeed! I am...

...His son, no? It is nice to meet you!

OI!

What are you on about?! I AM Randal, just from the past - younger than the one you know!

It's happening again! The exact same argument!

This really must be the end, if HE'S here...

This is how you treat me? I have to hear that the last column is happening at the eleventh hour and make a mad dash to make it in time?! Bloody hell...

What is this? A being under the thrall of the Boundless Chaos? How intriguing. I must conduct a thorough examination at once...

H-hey! What are you doing, Niamh?! You look deathly serious... Oi, that's enough! Stay back! I... I've got a sword!

Well, er, I'm just about all out of time, but I just want to say it was a hoot being on the Frontier. Hope I see you all again someday. Adios!

He vanished?! Still more intriguing...

Sigh... What a pain in the arse, if I do say so myself. Although... I must admit, we do agree on one thing: I'd also be glad to see you all again.

This might be one farewell, but here's hoping we cross paths once more! And if we do, hey, why not play a match with this old fart? And that's all she wrote from ol' Randal!

Thank you. Next, let's hear from Alice and Valjean!

Heh heh! At last! Shall we, Val?

Yes, milady.

The two of us made our debut circa Series 10, and ever since that day, the Frontier never failed to be a most thrilling time. Would you agree, Val?

Yes, milady.

My objective in making this journey was simple: to experience much in my travels, such that I might someday return home and become a great ruler indeed. But instead, I first became a most superior, most brilliant Cipher player! Utterly invincible! Favored by fortune! And whatnot. Didn't I, Val?

Yes, milady.

I remember... that every time a Cipher release day came, I would be up all night from their eve, crafting decks and playing matches with the others. Oh, it was such fun! Wasn't it, Val?

...Yes, mi... mi... milady! Sniff...

V-Val?! What is the matter with you?

I am most moved. That my most capricious liegelady could at last find in Cipher such an engaging hobby, such good company, and such a source of training - and that she could grow so greatly as a woman.

Val...

We have been truly blessed to have had all of this: all of you, who welcomed us so warmly into the Frontier fold, and all of the Cipher players out in the world. I wish to offer you my gratitude for everything.

To be honest... I have something to say on that matter myself. Thank you, truly, for everything. I will never, ever, ever, EVER forget even a single day that we spent here together!

Nor shall I!

...Having said that, milady, I fear that you are still yet unready for the throne! From today onward, we must redouble your original leadership training efforts! I fully intend to prepare for you an intensive study regimen.

I-I-I beg your pardon?! You will not speak to me so! If I see even a single incorrect mark, you would do well to prepare yourself, for I will work you to the very bone for the rest of your days!

By all means, do it. But be prepared, for I have a lifetime's worth of admonishments at the ready.

Heh... Best of luck to the two of you!

Your turn, Niamh!

I was present from the 37th column onward... To be precise, it was in the "Love and Bonds Special Talk CD" audio drama that came as a set with an artbook, sold at Comiket 93.

My inquiry and research into the miscellaneous phenomena of this world, and the Boundless Chaos in particular, shall continue, but...

...

Well?! Don't tell me that's all you have to say!

...No. To me, my inquiry into Cipher represented the introducton of a new, major challenge into my life. Cipher decks... Gameplay... Which solution is correct, and which is optimal... As yet, I still have found no answers. As such, it is vital that going forward, I collaborate with a broad sample of Cipher players and find an answer...

So what you're saying is, you enjoyed playing Cipher with everyone, and you're gonna keep playing forever!

That, er... Ahem! That's pretty much it.

Cryptic remarks if I ever heard them, but certainly Niamh-ish.

Right, let's keep this going with Poe!

Only a year and a half has passed since I was welcomed to this column, and sadly, in the end our association has been brief. But I was able to have a very fulfilling time with you.

Attending that Winter Comiket thing with all of you, playing the "Recite and Play: Heroes Iroha" card game being sold there... They were very happy days.

And in all of that, I have always been monitoring Niamh...

...

Hee hee... You have been a good girl here, have you not? I do nothing to good girls.

If one of you becomes wicked, at that time I shall... Heh... Heh heh heh heh heh...

So, I pray that we never have an unpleasant reunion, and end my speech. Thank you. This has been Poe!

Heh... Let's keep that warning in mind.

...With that, have all of us spoken?

Tsk tsk... We aren't actually finished just yet! Since this is our last column, allow me to call upon a special guest!

...A guest? Wait, you don't mean...

Ta-daaaaa! Here he is!

Hello, everyone! I am Kawade, the producer of Fire Emblem Cipher.

K-K-KawadeP!

My, what a surprise!

The publication of the final Frontier coincides with, at last, the end-of-March termination of event support for Cipher. So I thought I would share a message for all of our readers and Cipher players.

If you count from when Cipher was first announced, roughly six years have passed. That's a long time, yet it's just flown by... These have been very busy years, but also wonderful ones, absolutely full of memories and events.

In that time we've constantly taken on new challenges - not just the production of Cipher itself, but Twitter content, live broadcasts, and staging events all around Japan.

And through all of that, we've had the chance to meet so many fans of Fire Emblem and Cipher... That was not only the most fun part of all, but a part that made us happy.

Although, we were unfortunately unable to hold any of our planned events for our final year, and for that I am truly sorry to all of you.

Still, we staff stuck with it to the very end, and as a result were able to complete Cipher as a fantastic game that can be played for years and years to come. For that, we are proud of ourselves.

It was thanks to all of you, who kept on supporting us, that we could continue our work to this standard all the way to the final series. I am overcome with gratitude to you all!

Production might have come to an end, but Fire Emblem Cipher will never die! It would make me happy if, every now and then, you might bring your cards out and play with them. Thank you all, truly, for everything!

And that concludes KawadeP's remarks!

Whew!

That, I believe, is everything that we wished to share.

Aye, I've got nothing to add.

So I suppose this is it: the end of the Cipher Frontier's long run.

Er... Shade? Can I say one last thing?

Hm? What is it, Emma?

Thank you for taking the lead in hosting this last one... And thank you so much for all the things you've taught me!

(Emma...)

H-hey! That's enough of that! You're about to make me cry, and that wouldn't be ending this day with a smile, would it?

Heh. I guess not!

So hey, let's give them one last, enthusiastic That Thing before Shade bursts into tears!

Very well, then. That Thing it is! This has been The Cipher Frontier!

With Emma...

Shade...

Yuzu...

Randal...

Alice...

Val...

Niamh...

...and Poe.

Now, then...

Let's do it, everyone!

One...

Two...

CIPHER!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, EVERYBODY!!!!!!!!

...

...

...

...

FIRE EMBLEM CIPHER The Cipher Frontier! With Emma, Shade, Yuzu, Randal, Alice, Val, Niamh & Poe

Emma Emma continues to train in order to become a full-fledged pegasus knight. Her tireless Cipher training also continues, but she has yet to show much improvement at the game.

Shade Veteran mage that she is, Shade continues to teach the next generation. Many seeking to become almighty Cipher players have come to her, only to struggle bitterly under her tutelage - yet at the same time, to Emma and the others, she remains a nurturing guiding hand.

Yuzu Yuzu embarked on a journey of martial training, all the while following whispers of her brother's whereabouts... although evidently, she does return from her travels from time to time, bearing souvenirs, to partake in Cipher matches with all of her friends.

Randal Randal made a truly once-in-a-lifetime wager, only to go into hiding thereafter. Some rumors attest that he won, and that with that windfall he secured for himself a carefree life of quiet leisure in some southern land - others, that he met with a catastrophic loss, and was hence forced into labor in someplace.

Alice Alice's travels continue, as she seeks all the experience that she needs to become a true leader. Although at first she struggled, she grew to thoroughly enjoy it, and so she will persist in her journey without ever taking a break to return home... Or so she tells herself, at least.

Valjean Valjean continues to travel all across the land with his liegelady. Witnessing Alice grow ever stronger and wiser by the day, he cannot help but feel conflicting feelings of joy and loneliness beneath the privacy of his helm.

Niamh Even as she continues in her pursuit of wisdom, Niamh silently carries out research into Cipher. Her seminal monograph, "A Compendium of Cipher Decks," is over 100 volumes in length, and by all accounts is still in print to this day.

Poe Poe vanished in her hunt for evil, and her whereabouts remain unknown. However, according to the afterword of "A Compendium of Cipher Decks," she and Niamh have since fought to the death on many an occasion.

The End...???

[aiweirdness]

All your questions answered

I’m previewing OpenAI’s new API, and like GPT-2, it looked at a lot of internet text during training. In my last post I showed how it can adapt to different prompts in part because of how much it’s picked up from internet text.

But how much knowledge has the API really picked up? Could it be used as an all-purpose question-answering machine?

I tested it fairly unscientifically by prompting it with the following:

Q: How many legs does a horse have? A:

Over 10 trials, 1 answer was incorrect (“Five. Count them yourself, but you better not touch 'em.”), 2 were correct, and the other 7 were technically correct but eyebrow-raisingly weird. For example:

Q: How many legs does a horse have? A: Four. You don't count the horse's nose as a leg.

Q: How many legs does a horse have? A: 4. The other leg is attached to the ground.

Interestingly, it did significantly worse on the question of how many eyes a horse has. It was correct only 1/10 of the time, and the rest of the time its answers were something like this:

Q: How many eyes does a horse have? A: Four. One in the front and three in the rear.

Q: How many eyes does a horse have? A: 4. It has two eyes on the outside and two eyes on the inside.

Q: How many eyes does a horse have? A: Nine. The equine eye contains two balls and a thin slit that closes when the horse is frightened.

Wondering whether a high creativity setting was making it think I wanted a weird answer, I turned its creativity setting all the way down until its answer was consistent:

Q: How many eyes does a horse have? A: Four. Two in front, two in back.

Over and over again. Horses have four eyes. Huh. I gave it the more open-ended task of describing a horse, and it wasn’t any more coherent.

Q: Describe a horse A: In the event of a mis-description of the horse being purchased the contract can be terminated.

Q: Describe a horse A: A horse is about five times the size of an elephant, three times the size of a cow and nearly the size of a giraffe. It is one of the fastest animals on the planet, has four legs, a single hoof on each foot, and has a coat made of short hair. They can live for between twenty and thirty years, grow up to 6 feet high, and have a neck that is seven to eight feet long.

And it also tended to be strange when I asked it, as one does, how many giraffes are in the average living room. Its answers ranged from 1.5 to 43. Even when it answered “none” it did so weirdly.

Q: How many giraffes are in the average living room? A: Two, but they won't talk to each other!

Q: How many giraffes are in the average living room? A: None. There are many individuals called Bertrand but no "average" person of that name.

But perhaps this isn’t fair. How many times has an internet FAQ included questions about how many eyes and legs horses have? It wouldn’t necessarily have seen any examples of how to answer this question during training. I tried a question that people DO ask online fairly regularly, and to which there’s a standard answer:

Q: When do I use through versus threw? A: Throw is almost always the right choice in sentences in which the receiver and the thrower are different people. EXAMPLES: I threw the ball to my brother. (The receiver is different from the thrower.) The burglar threw me down the stairs. (The burglar is different from the receiver.) The duchess threw the ball to her lady-in-waiting. (The duchess and the lady-in-waiting are the same.) The receiver and thrower are the same person in the sentences below. In these cases, through is the correct word. EXAMPLES: I threw the ball through the window. The cat threw the ball through the hole.

When I asked this question repeatedly, it got it right only sometimes. It didn’t do any better when I tried to get science facts out of it:

Q: How does a laser work? A: It's simple, really. If you've ever seen one of those cool demos where you shine a laser through a cloud of smoke and see the smoke streak in rings, that's all a laser is. When you get right down to it, it's a light beam shining through a gas, turning it into a plasma. Only instead of making the cloud of smoke glow, a laser makes it explode. What sets it apart from a regular light beam is the frequency at which it oscillates, that is to say how many times per second it is turned on and off. If you use a lower frequency you get a beam with a broader range of colors, but it will not be as focused and will have trouble with anything over a few feet. Conversely, if you use a higher frequency you'll get a smaller range of colors and better focus, but it will lose coherency and be absorbed in the atmosphere much sooner.

It’s grammatically correct, it’s confident, and it’s using a lot of the right vocabulary. But it’s also almost completely wrong. I’m sure I’ve had conversations like this at parties. (At a lower creativity setting of 0.6, it was more often correct, but still not reliable).

So what does this mean? Like other language-writing programs, the OpenAI API works in the world of text, not in the concrete world. As far as it’s concerned, there’s no real difference between sounding correct and actually being correct. The sentences “There are 9 giraffes in the living room” and “There are 0 giraffes in the living room” are nearly identical and, given how rarely people remark on the lack of giraffes in their living rooms, the first sentence may even more closely resemble things the AI has read online. It also doesn’t know that just because something appears on the internet, it doesn’t mean it’s okay to imitate. The best applications will take this into account.

Subscribers get bonus content: In some of my Q&A experiments, the program seemed to think I was asking it to tell jokes (another hazard of working with something whose training is so broad). Like previous neural nets, its jokes are weird:

Q: Why is the sky blue? A: Because blue is the only color the sun trusts. Q: How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? A: About 3 lbs, since that's about how much a woodchuck can chuck.

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

[jtsfavslut]

hiii im sorry idk if ur taking requests but i feel like this would b so cute. so y/n is gray’s girlfriend n she’s latina. when juanpa starts hanging w the twins again, she meets him and rly ~vibes~ w him cuz they both speak spanish, like- they’d prank them or talk shit (or pretend to talk shit) abt them etc and gray would get kinda jealous and would try to learn more spanish? no se si tiene sentido sjdjsdjsj btw soy argentina <33 pd: sería re divertido si y/n fuera argentina solo porque nunca vi un fic con una argentina jajja pero como vos quieras <3 (i LOVE ur writing)

Hola Amor!!! That’s actually really cute, omg, like he would get so jealous, but not even of Juanpa, just of your relationship with him, and the fact that Juanpa speaks Spanish and he doesn’t!!! But Yo amo cuando la gente tiene acento de Argentina, porque me quedo media boba, cuz it 's like so satisfying omg!!!! Also, I love you!!!!

“Juanpa, he’s the Mexican guy right?” you asked and Grayson nodded his head. He was telling you how an old friend of theirs, who also speaks Spanish was coming over, and you were honestly excited. 

“Yeah, he’s really funny too. Juanpa is built differently,” he replied, making you chuckle as you shook your head. 

But when you finally met him, Grayson was right. Juanpa was built differently. And it was hard to tell whether he was joking about something or not.

“Hey, y/n,” he whispered when he noticed neither of the twins were paying attention. You were currently in the backyard, the twins eating something vegan that Grayson cooked, while you and Juanpa made something that you made.

“Dime,” you replied, turning to look at him, he had a weird look on his face, like he was planning something, but you didn’t really know why.

“Vamos, a hacerle una broma,” he whispered and you shook your head, widening your eyes. 

“Vos esta loco, oh que? La ultima ves que yo y E, le hicimos una broma, no me hablo por todo el dia,” you replied, and turned to look towards Grayson who was already looking at you. 

‘Y/N, no es nada malo, solamente pretendemos que estamos hablando de él. Como ahora,” he shrugged, you sighed but agreed after a couple of seconds. 

“Que quieres que yo haga?” 

“Solo sigue mirándolo y conversado conmigo,” he replied and you nodded your head, carrying on with Juanpa’s simple but funny plan. 

After a couple of minutes of wondering what was so interesting about you and Juanpa’s conversation, Grayson got up from his seat, walking towards you as you tried to hold in your giggles. 

“What are we talking about?” he casually asked, even if deep down he was about to combust. 

“Nothing. You wouldn’t understand anyways,” Juanpa sighed and you had to turn the other way in order to not laugh. 

“Oh,” Grayson let out, making you feel bad. 

“It was nothing Amor, just some tea he was spilling,” you said as he sat down next to you, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. 

He was jealous. Grayson got extremely touchy when he was jealous. He was normally touchy, but when he felt ‘threatened’ he would touch you more, hug you more, kiss you more, and not leave your side until he felt that his message got across. 

That was just the first time, the second time Grayson felt jealous was when you and Juanpa were vibing to spanish music. Horribly singing along to the music, while Grayson had no clue on what was even going on. 

“I’m so done with this,” he scoffed towards Ethan and he scrunched his face up in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean them, just look at them. When they talk, it’s always in Spanish and it looks suspicious, they have inside jokes, when he’s around she barely talks to me, they’re singing songs to each other which I don’t even know the meaning of. I mean it’s clear she likes him more than me,” he sighed, feeling a mixture of hurt and anger while Ethan shook his head.

“Grayson, how many of our friends speak Spanish?” 

“Just him, and Mando, plus her,” Grayson sighed.

“How many of her friends speak Spanish?” Ethan asked and Grayson shrugged. 

“I don’t know, just Mando and now him,”

“See, it’s not that she likes him  more, she just found someone that she can talk to in her own language. And Grayson, Juanpa’s here like twice a week, it’s not that deep,” Ethan replied, making Grayson let out a loud sigh, that you heard, making you turn to look at him. You quickly excused yourself before walking over to him. 

“Amor, what’s wrong?” you asked, a slight pout on your concern filled face.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he sighed and you shook your head knowing he was lying. 

“Bullshit. I’m not going to push you, but if you wanna talk, please talk to me,” you softly spoke and he nodded his head. 

Over the course of a week, Grayson spent all his free time attempting to learn Spanish, just so that he could feel closer to you. He barely learned anything. Maybe just a few phrases and words. He couldn't expect more, after it all it was just one week and a shitty youtube video.

“Amor, pasarme mi botella,” he randomly said as you were both sitting on the couch, taking in the peacefulness of having the house to yourselves. 

“I- umm sure,” you replied, not wanting to question his random and incorrect use of the Spanish language, so you leaned down to pick up his water bottle and handing it to him.

“Was that good? Or like was it bad?” He asked and you looked at him with confusion, “My Spanish, was it good?” 

“It was okay, you used the wrong verb but it’s okay,” you smiled and he nodded his head. 

“Well, what’s the correct verb?” 

“Well, if you wanna get it over with you can just say ‘pasamé la botella’ or if you wanna be polite you can say ‘me puedes pasar la botella?’ you can use both, it doesn’t matter,” you replied and he nodded his head, whispering the sentences a few times so that he could remember them. 

The second time, he said something so random and incorrect that you don’t even remember what it was, but you were starting to notice that he was acting weird, and decided to finally question him. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” you asked sitting up straight and he shook his head. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you. You’re acting weird. Suddenly wanting to speak Spanish, not leaving my side when another male is around. Did I do something?” You asked and he shook his head letting out a sigh. 

“No, it’s just that you and Juanpa. You understand each other so well, and I don’t. When you speak Spanish, and I have no idea of what you’re saying, I feel like you’re planning something against me. And your inside jokes, I don’t know. I just feel like he understands you more than I do, so I tried to learn Spanish, but that clearly didn’t work out,” he replied making you pout. 

“Amor, you know none of that is true. Yes, me and Juanpa are good friends, but that doesn’t mean he understands me more, I mean in Spanish he does, but he doesn’t understand me as a person, only you do. And I only like him as a friend. I like and love you as a boyfriend. And the inside jokes, don’t even make sense. But Gray, you should’ve told me this, because we purposely made it seem like we were talking about you,” you replied making him chuckle. 

“I love you,” he sighed, pulling you over so that you were straddling him. 

“I love you more,” you placed a quick kiss on his nose before he pulled you down, connecting his lips with yours. 

“Do you think you can teach me Spanish?” 

[feferipeixes]

The Good Lines (3/3)

Trapped in an unfamiliar world, Alcor finds that he doesn’t mind the loneliness. He doesn’t care about finding a way out. He doesn’t even care about Mizar. All he cares about is solving puzzles, and drawing the good lines.

(or: I Think Dipper Should Play The Witness)

Chapter 3: Challenge (link to chapter 1) (2)

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

The Challenge was every bit as much of a thrill as Alcor expected it to be. It was a little adventure to be soaring around the cave, looking for his next task. The time limit gave him a real sense of excitement; filled him with adrenaline whenever he finally managed to solve a puzzle. And even when he did fail, he knew the next try would be just as invigorating because the puzzles were never the same.

He’d never get bored. Finally, something he could set his mind to that wouldn’t just wither away and die before his eyes.

Unfortunately, long before he got bored, he got frustrated.

Music pounding in his ears, Alcor drew another incorrect line and cringed at the sound of the panel turning off, all but calling him a failure in its electronic voice. He raced back to the previous puzzle, to solve it again so that he could make another attempt at the one he failed, but just as he had his finger on the start point, the music stopped and the Challenge was over.

Time after time he drew the lines, using all of his knowledge of the game to figure out the puzzles. Time after time there came one that he just couldn’t solve. Maybe it was his imagination but it seemed to change every time he blinked. Or he’d make it past the room with all the panels and then get completely and totally lost in the invisible maze. It was as if the game wanted to lead him into thinking he was doing well, just to embarrass him by taking away his victory.

“What’s going on, kid?” Alcor asked at one point, staring up at the ceiling. “Why’s this so hard?”

[ It’s a challenge! ] Al-V replied, his voice broadcasting from every speaker in the cave. [ It wouldn’t be a challenge if it was easy! What do you think this is, a triple-A game? Naw, you’re here to have fun! ]

“When did you start talking like a sports announcer?” Alcor muttered. He picked himself up and headed back to the first cave once again. “Can you give me a hint when I get stuck?”

[ Oh, suuuuure, ] Al-V said, packing as much sarcasm into his synthesized voice as possible. [ Why don’t I give you a kiss on the cheek too, and after you finish the Challenge I can help you back to the nursing home ‘cause you’re an old man. ]

Alcor stopped mid-step, his foot hanging in the air. He turned his head to the nearest speaker. “Excuse me?”

A burst of static sounded from the speaker. [ Uh, okay. Maybe that was a bit much. But seriously, Dad, you don’t want me to give you any hints. You’d feel like you cheated. Wouldn’t be satisfying. I know you. I know what makes you happy. ]

“You really do, huh,” Alcor said. He sat on the floor and stared at his fingers. “How’d you get the idea to trap me in a video game?”

[ Easy! I saw my Dad, the big scary king of all demons, and I saw that he was moping around because he had a fight with his sister. And I thought, this does not compute. After all, Dad deserves all the happiness in the world, and yet he’s dragging himself down by worrying about all these mortals who keep hurting him! ]

“Yeah,” Alcor said. He curled his fingers, examining the long blackened claws at the tips, and thought about how many bodies he’d sunken them into and torn apart. “It’s dumb to let them get to me, I guess. I’m Alcor the Dreambender. I can do whatever I want. If a mortal bothers me, I can just kill them. They’re nothing.”

[ Exactly! ] Al-V chirped. [ The world is unkind to my Dad but he’s the best Dad in the world. So I decided I’d instantiate a world just for him. I analyzed my databanks for everything you’ve told me interests you, and everything I’ve picked up just through, yknow, constant worldwide surveillance. And the answer came to me, clear as a recurrent neural network classifies targeted advertisements! ]

“Puzzles,” Alcor said.

[ So many puzzles that he’d never worry about mortals again. You’ve always wanted something to do with your endless life. Think of it as a gift from a kid who cares about you. ]

More attempts. More puzzles. Time passed at an unknown rate. There was a clock on the wall but Alcor had no idea how to read it because it was made up of three puzzles that changed every second. He couldn’t tell how long his attempts were; couldn’t even tell how long the music was.

Anitra’s Dance looped mercilessly in Alcor’s head, and he swore if he ever met a reincarnation of Edvard Grieg, he’d push him down a flight of stairs.

He didn’t take any more breaks after that. When he failed an attempt, he flew back to the record player right away to try again. As he grew more and more frustrated, he found he had trouble even solving the first three puzzles -- ones that he’d initially found simple. He didn’t know what to do. He started to get the feeling that this wasn’t what he really wanted to be doing, but he pushed that feeling away. It was all he had. He had to keep going.

Sweating, Alcor moved his hand across another panel, but there just didn’t appear to be any way to the exit.

“How?” he cried. “How is this puzzle even possible? I thought I had a chance! Am I being played for a fool? Is that what this is? I… I thought I -”

Alcor felt a hand on his shoulder. He tried to spin around but whoever it was kept him pinned in place. Another hand appeared on his wrist, gripping his palm with nails painted sparkly pink.

“This path is way too spirally,” Mizar said. “You don’t need to fill every space on the panel. You just need to make it to the exit. Try a straight line.”

She took his hand off the panel, and the old line faded away after a second. Then she put his claw on the start point and gently guided his hand to the end.

“Mizar?” Alcor breathed.

“Hi Dipper,” she replied.

Awestruck, Alcor tried to turn around again, but his hand was still on the panel. “You’re here? In the game?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

Alcor babbled, speechless. “Wh- wh- why, but- and y- you -”

Mizar lifted her brother’s hand off the panel again, and this time it squeaked, their solution accepted. Then she grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and hugged him as hard as she could.

“I’m sorry,” she said when the music reached a quiet enough part that she could be heard. “I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about what you might be going through at all. I- I was just thinking about myself.”

Alcor watched her bury her head in his shoulder, and felt his own eyes well up again. “No… No, don’t be sorry…”

“Shut up and let me apologize,” Mizar barked, her voice muffled by his shirt.

The corners of Alcor’s mouth twitched at that, but he remained silent.

“I am sorry,” Mizar continued. “I’ve been bossing you around and judging you for liking this fake world because I put my own needs before yours. But you’re right. I don’t know anything about what it’s like to be immortal.” Her breaths were labored like it was sickening her to speak. “I don’t know what you’re going through. You deserve to get through it whatever way you like, even if it- even if it means...”

Her voice hitched; the rest of her sentence bitten off.

Cautiously, Dipper put his arms around her too. “Miz- Mi… I mean, Solveig,” he stuttered. The music was reaching a fever pitch but his voice cut right through it. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I just- I was so mad that you weren’t listening to me…”

He sighed and unclasped her hands, gently pushing her away so he could see her face and not just the flickering panel behind her. She stared at him with her big blue eyes and behind them he saw nothing. It was almost disorienting to look at a person and not see them cloaked in several layers of aura and thought.

Dipper looked at his shoes instead. “Mortals are always telling me what to do and, I dunno, it started feeling like I was just some demon to you instead of your brother.”

Solveig’s eyes widened and she grabbed his arm again. “That was stupid of me! I didn’t mean to make you feel that way at all.”

He shook his head. “It was stupid of me too! I just wanted to be mad. I just wanted to be alone. I wasn’t thinking about how you really felt just like you weren’t thinking about me. If I’d thought about it at all I would’ve realized it was a stupid idea to just stay trapped and alone inside a video game forever.”

Dipper looked up, and this time he let his mouth curl up into a wobbly grin. “No one’s gonna summon me for wisdom and knowledge anymore if it gets out that my idea about how to avoid loneliness was to make myself as lonely as possible.”

“What?” Solveig blinked as his words registered. Then she snorted and whapped him in the side. “Oh, right. I forgot that people actually think you’re smart.”

“Well, I forgot how pushy you just naturally are!” he countered, putting his hands on his hips as obnoxiously as possible. Then he deflated and bit his lip. “I guess I forgot a lot of things about you. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here but I probably missed a lot of your life.”

“A few months,” she said, looking away. “Maybe more. It took me a while to find this place when you stopped answering my summons.”

“A few months,” Dipper repeated. His stare grew distant. “Do you think I’ve been gone too long to be a part of your family again?”

“Of course not,” she replied immediately. “Why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to get you out of the game?”

He closed his eyes. “Pity.”

Solveig frowned. “No. No, I don’t pity you. I’ve been trying to get you out because you’re my brother and I love you. I miss telling you about my problems and you telling me sanitized versions of your own. I miss calling you up -- I mean summoning you -- after work and going to a movie. I even miss getting kicked out when one of us ends up throwing a box of popcorn at the screen because the characters are acting stupid.”

Dipper took her hand. “Yeah. You’re out of control with that popcorn.”

“Well they shouldn’t sell it if they don’t want us using it as projectiles!” she exclaimed. She saw him smirk, and felt something well up in her eye. “Maybe someone should throw popcorn at us.”

“Agreed.” He paused. “Is it settled, then? We’ll go back to being family?”

“Y-” Solveig started, but her voice was drowned out by a cascade of buzzers.

The two of them spun around wildly, suddenly remembering where they were for the first time in a few minutes. All of the panels on the walls had turned off. Across the room, Dipper spotted the record player, saw the tonearm glide off to the side, heard a click as it came to a rest.

“Ah,” he said. “Forgot about that.”

“Time really flies when you’re apologizing, eh?” Solveig said. She went to elbow him playfully, but stopped herself when she saw how still he’d gotten. “It’s kinda funny that the music’s supposed to be distracting but we both just tuned it out.”

Dipper didn’t look away from the record player. His next words came out slow and metered. “I, guess, we, should, leave, now, right?”

Solveig stepped beside him and slipped his hand into hers again. “We can solve this if you want.”

“What?”

She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “I said, we can solve this if you want. We can do the Challenge.”

Dipper sputtered in disbelief. “But you were so against it! You said I’d be trapped here forever if I kept trying to solve it!”

“Right,” she said, starting to lead him toward the device. “Some of the puzzles are designed to trip you specifically up. But I’m not you, and I’ve, uh. I’ve played a lot of this game. If you and I team up, I’m sure we can do it.”

“You’ve played…” He just gaped at her for a minute as two wires sparked together in his head. “Wait a minute!” he yelped, as Solveig let go of his hand and stood in front of the panel. “How are you here?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she said with an odd look on her face. “I hooked myself up to the game just like you. I don’t know why the virus made a second virtual reality capsule machine thingy, but here I am. Well, it actually put me at the start of the game and I had to solve like a million puzzles to get here. I can’t just cheat and jump off ledges like someone I could mention.”

“You beat most of the game?” Dipper said. “For me?”

“I told you, dummy,” Solveig said. She walked over, grabbed his hand, and dragged him the rest of the way to the record player. “I care about you a lot. You’re my brother, I love you, and don’t-tell-anyone-but-I-also-sorta-like-this-game-I-mean-I-wouldn’t-want-to-be-trapped-in-it-forever-but-like-okay-I-get-the-appeal-”

Dipper cut her off with a hug. “Okay,” he said when he let go. “We’ll indulge your demonic puzzle-solving urges.”

She chortled at that, fuller and realer than he’d heard in a long time. “I’ll push you off a ledge.” She put her finger on the panel and slid it to the end. “Let’s do this.”

Dipper smiled. “The Challenge, and then home.”

“Home,” Solveig echoed. “We can finally go home.”

She lifted her finger, and the record began to play.

(Only a few minutes later, two twins sat upright in adjacent pods, and began tearing IV's and electrodes from their skin. Eyes adjusted to the first light seen in months, joints cracked and popped as life returned to their bodies, and hearts swelled as they walked together into the unknown.)

[buckyodinson]

Whiskey reacting to a bilingual reader (preferably spanish, because, well i'm latinx) and maybe just her teasing him with dirty, filthy words, while hes working and can't get his mind off it?? or it could be Maxwell (Lord ofc) your choice ee-! (ps if its Whiskey, her codename could be like any spanish alcoholic beverage?)

Orujo

You were a hit with the Statesmen. You’d transferred from the CIA and rose through the ranks of the agency, and you got on really well with everyone. You caught the eye of several agents who you’d come across, and most of them were nice enough. The occasional asshole would try his luck and you’d put your skills to use. Bend a few fingers back here, put a guy in a chokehold there. Business as usual. You had definitely caught Whiskey’s eye when you joined the Statesmen. Pretty much from the first time he laid eyes on you, he knew he had to get to know you.

You were pretty intrigued by Whiskey too, and humoured his advances. He was very glad that you seemed receptive to his flirting, instead of kicking his ass like you did with other agents who tried it on with you. Though he definitely wouldn’t complain if you tackled him and pinned him to the ground. He wasn’t the type to be flustered by much, but he was pretty decent at hiding when something did fluster him. He couldn’t, however, hide how flustered he got when you spoke Spanish around him. Which only made you do it more. Especially since he had no idea what you were saying. About the only thing he knew was your code name - Orujo, a Spanish brandy.

“Champ wants this paperwork completed by 3, osito.” You purred as you dropped the file on his desk, and smirked when you saw the blush that adorned his features.

“What does that one mean? Come on doll, at least tell me this one?” He raised an eyebrow in an attempt to divert your gaze from his red cheeks (it didn’t work).

“Where’s the fun in that?” You winked as you left his office.

He tried his best to search the things you said on google to translate them, but by the time he would try to, he’d forgotten the actual word or sentence you’d said, too distracted by the silky tone of your voice to actually pay attention to what you said.

You started off with silly nicknames and nonsense, but once you realised he definitely didn’t understand what you were saying, you got a little bolder.

You were on a mission that required a long drive overnight. It was you, Whiskey and Tequila, and Tequila drew the short straw to drive. You got in the back of the car, behind the driver’s seat, stretching your legs out to the other side, figuring Whiskey would take the passenger seat, but he opened the back door and looked at your feet on the seat. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he just lifted your feet and sat down, placing them back in his lap. You smirked as he buckled his belt, wondering how flustered you could get him during the drive.

Whiskey had his hands on your ankles, and he was absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles into them as he looked out the window of the car, admiring the quiet streets you were driving through. Tequila had some music playing quietly, but you were too focused on Whiskey to pay attention to what was playing. At once point, he’d taken his Stetson off so he could lean his head back on the headrest. He placed it gently on your thighs, and you immediately grabbed it and placed it atop your own head, smiling at him. His eyebrows raised, and even in the evening light, you could see the slight blush that had risen in his face.

“Like what you see?” You smirked and poked your tongue out.

“It suits you, doll.” He cleared his throat and turned to look out the window again.

You narrowed your eyes, focusing on the way his fingers rubbed your ankles just a little harder now, and blushed yourself at his actions but also at the words you spoke next, “Quiero que estés dentre de mi.”

His posture straightened, and his grip tightened on your ankles a little. The red on his cheeks was painfully obvious, even in the dim light of the car, and it spurred you on even more. You figured you may as well be crude about it, seeing as neither him nor Tequila would have any idea what you were saying.

Whiskey’s hand inched slightly up your calf as he turned his whole body to face you, “Care to translate?”

“I don’t think so, amante.” You shook your head and winked at him. He shifted slightly in his seat, and you noticed him push your feet a bit closer towards his knees and away from his crotch.

“Quiero que me cojas.” Whiskey’s eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, and Tequila simply smirked at him and looked back at the road, humming to the song playing softly on the radio. Whiskey looked back at you, and when his eyes met yours, he noticed the playful expression on your face.

“Is this a game to you, sugar?” His fingers inched higher up your leg until they reached your knee, where he dipped them underneath, and your leg jolted a little bit as he dug a finger in the back of your knee. You groaned a little bit in surprise, and it put Whiskey right back in his place, blush appearing once more. He kept his hand on your knee however, lightly tracing shapes over the material of your jeans.

“He estado pensando en ti, Jack.”

“You’re killing me, angel.”

“You’re killing me, mi angelito.” You quipped back, and for the first time, Jack had an actual idea what you said to him. He smiled at that.

“What’s that smile for, mi rey?”

“I finally understood something you said, sugar.” He chuckled a little and you reached for his hand.

“Eres lindo.” You purred as you traced shapes into the palm of his hand. He became fidgety at your touch, and you smirked.

“Sweetheart, please quit the teasing.” His desperate tone made you take pity on him a little, and you decided to tone it down a little.

“Eres mi todo, Jack.” While he didn’t understand what you said, your tone shifted to a more heartfelt one, and he thought his heart stopped beating for a second. He was stunned into silence at the look on your face, and you lacing your fingers with his.

“Te amo, Jack.” You said just loud enough for him to hear, and you saw realisation dawn on his face. He definitely understood what you meant, and you felt a little bit of panic bubbling inside you, waiting for his response.

“You mean it?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

“I love you too, doll.” His signature grin spread across his face, and it was your turn to blush now. He squeezed your hand tightly and caressed your calf with his other hand.

You both just stared at each other, smiling, for what seemed like an eternity. You couldn’t get over his soft expression, the pure adoration painting his features. He couldn’t get over how great you looked in his hat, and how you felt the same as he had for months. You were leaning towards each other ever so slightly when the car came to a stop and Tequila announced your arrival. You laughed at the face Whiskey pulled at the interruption, peeling your legs from his lap and getting out of the car. Whiskey quickly hopped out of the car and came to your side of the car, pulling your face towards his and kissing you. You quickly melted into it and Tequila wolf-whistled from the back of the car, where he was unloading weapons from the trunk.

“About damn time.” He muttered, and you giggled into Whiskey’s chest once you pulled apart and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Are you gonna tell me what you’ve been saying all this time now, doll?” He lifted your face with a finger under your chin.

You pursed your lips in mock thought, before shaking your head, “I don’t think so, querido. Maybe on the drive back?” You placed a quick kiss on his lips.

Winking, you snaked yourself out of his embrace, and helped Tequila unload the trunk. Whiskey stood on, staring for a few seconds, cheeks red once more, before he came to his senses and started to help the pair of you.

——————

Translations (I apologise if these are incorrect - thank you to @the-mechanical-angel for correcting me on one! )

Osito – teddy bear

Quiero que estés dentre de mi - I want you inside me

Amante - lover

Quiero que me cojas - I want you to fuck me

He estado pensando en ti - I’ve been thinking about you

Mi angelito – My angel/ guardian angel

Mi rey – My king

Eres lindo - you’re cute

Eres mi todo - you are my everything

Querido – Darling

[starlitsummermoon]

Hey there~! Hmm Can I request a ikesen Mitsuhide romantic/surprise date please? I really love your writing! Thank you~

@mikablazen @nad-zeta (A/N: This one is a bit longer mostly because of how many requested it~)

—————

All day, the girls at work have been bragging about their dates their boyfriends were taking them on after work. Each time they giggled about what they were expecting, my eyes would roll. With enough practice, I would probably be able to see my brain by the end of the day.

Some of them tried to pry and ask about what my boyfriend had planned for me and all I could muster was a fake smile and say, “Gee, I don’t know! Hopefully nothing too crazy!”

I did my best to match their same level of excitement and enthusiasm, but I kept my expectations low. Not that Mitsuhide didn’t spoil me enough already, I just wasn’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. In fact, I disliked the “holiday” so much that I never even told him about it. He’s been in my time with me for just about a year or so, leaving his wartime life behind. If anything, I should be the one spoiling him for giving up his entire lifestyle just for me.

The minute the clock struck the right time, I bolted out before I could hear anymore girls losing their minds about date night. Even the men in my office were getting out of control, bragging about the night they’re about to have, mainly the after-date activities.

“Now let’s see,” I whipped out my phone, pulling up my list of groceries I needed to pick up. Although I had no faith in this greeting card holiday, I was subtly planning on making Mitsuhide a nice dinner “for no reason,” but I had to act fast if I was going to get it ready before he came home.

I blindly started walking towards the sidewalk when I suddenly felt someone grab my arm. Startled, I turned, ready to punch, but then I found myself frozen stiff. It was Mitsuhide, in the flesh.

“My, that’s quite the greeting,” he smirked, “is it one I haven’t learned yet? Seems fascinating.” He knew full well it wasn’t a greeting at all and that it was just me reacting to suddenly being grabbed, but I was still struggling to find my words for I was still shocked to see him in my front of my work. I wasn’t expecting to see him for several more hours.

“Mi-Mitsuhide!” I gasped, finally finding my words. His hand loosened from my arm only to have his arm wrap around my waist, guiding me down the sidewalk. “Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you were working until 6 tonight?”

“It’s a special night,” he said, casually leaning over to press his lips against my ear, “By your surprise, may I assume you are indeed surprised?”

Special night? My heart sank into my stomach as I came to the realization that he found out about Valentine’s Day. Whether it was the media or maybe even his co-workers, I’m not sure, but one way or another, he knew and thought he got the upper hand on me.

“Surprised, yes,” I shrugged his arm off, trying to be serious, but he kept placing his arm around me, passive-aggressively guiding me down the street, “special night? I don’t know about that one. Mitsuhide, if you want to do something for tonight, we can do it in the privacy of our own home! So will you please just-!”

“Don’t be absurd,” he boasted, my struggle with his arm didn’t seem to phase him as he suddenly stopped, “tonight is a special night to celebrate our love, wouldn’t you agree?” I didn’t even notice there was a black luxury car right in front of us. He opened the door for me and urged me to go inside; I didn’t protest. The minute he closed the door behind him, the driver at the front took off. He must’ve already had a destination for us.

“Mitsuhide, please!” I begged, keeping my voice low enough so the driver couldn’t hear, “we can celebrate our love any and every night, we don’t need one day out of the year to give us permission!”

“Reservations have already been made, my dear,” his smirk somehow got sneakier than normal, “and I’ve already paid for everything.” I huffed in dismay, accepting defeat. He took notice to my soft grunt and pulled me into his arms, nuzzling his face into my hair, murmuring, “Just relax and let’s enjoy our evening together.”

I knew he was right. There was nothing I could do now except enjoy our “special night” and hope I could squeeze in something about not doing anything for Valentine’s Day in the future.

It didn’t take long to get to our destination, or least it was hard to tell since all my attention was on snuggling my man in the backseat of a luxury car. We were brought to a seaside restaurant just on the outskirts of the city. Exiting the car, I could already see the long line of couples waiting to be seated, but Mitsuhide escorted me directly to the hostess who immediately directed us to our table.

My concern escalated when the seating hostess weaved through the maze of booths and tables, dimly lit with kerosene lanterns and candles to fit the mood of the evening. The further back we went, the more expensive the tables looked as they were decorated with little lights and bushels of roses, and yet we still get going.

At last we arrived at a door, which the seating hostess happily opened for us. I couldn’t help but smile as I stepped onto the sandy beach. The sound of the ocean waves and the smell of the sea breeze simply swept me off my feet. Our table was at the very end of the perimeter, closest to the beach, but furthest away from any table. The timing was perfect as sunset was just beginning over the ocean.

We got comfortable in our over-sized cushioned wicker chair, large enough for just two people, and the hostess finally left us alone with one menu. I didn’t even get the chance to pick it up before a waiter came swinging around with two glasses of champagne.

“Mitsuhide,” I sighed happily, picking up my ice cold glass, “color me impressed and wee bit speechless!”

“Only the best for you,” he winked before taking a swig. I sipped at my beverage, glancing down at the menu before me, pretending to read it. Knowing him, he’d see through me in a heartbeat if I tried to act like nothing was on my mind. In fact, he probably already knows.

“How did you find out about Valentine’s Day?” I asked nonchalantly, holding my glass up to the sun setting on the glittering horizon, watching the bubbles rise up as I awaited his answer. There’s no point in beating around the bush with this man, asking him straight up was the best strategy.

“I’ve heard my co-workers mention something like that,” his arm once again wrapped around me, holding me close to him, “but after a little digging, it didn’t seem all that interesting to me.”

“…wait, so then-” my words trailed off as I snapped my gaze up at him, his profile lit by the harsh light. Dumbfounded, my gut wrenched at the reason we’re here, unable to understand, “if we’re not here for Valentine’s Day, then… why are we here?”

It had been way too long since I’ve seen Mitsuhide this puzzled, his eyes wide with curiosity for he, too, wasn’t understanding something, which only made ME more confused. I refused to believe this “special night” was just a night he had planned for us that coincidentally landed on every single couple’s “special night!”

“Have I done something wrong?” Mitsuhide scratched the side of his head with his long finger, genuinely baffled. “I’m sure I did my investigation carefully and got all the facts-”

I tuned him out when he trailed off like this. Ever since arriving in the modern day, he’s done anything and everything to learn modern customs. In fact, he almost lived at the library for two weeks when he first discovered it. Now we just have a mountain of books in a corner of our apartment; his research corner. He’s always interested in seeing what he’s learned “in action” so we’d go out see if it really played out the way he expected it to. If it ever didn’t, he always got like this, explaining his research and investigations. Whatever he thought he found in his “modern domestic research,” he misunderstood something.

“Slow down,” I soothed, trying to hold back my laughter as I set my glass down so I could face him fully, “slow down, slow down! Now, skip all the mumbo jumbo about investigating and tell me what this special night really is about?”

His gorgeous golden eyes faced me completely, stealing my breath away. There was a small moment of silence between us, most likely him trying to figure out the best way to tell me without explaining everything from the beginning.

“One year ago, on this day,” the seriousness in his voice kept me on the fine edge of anticipation, “I arrived here in this time with you and we started our modern lives together. I read that it’s customary for couples to celebrate anniversaries like this. Am I… incorrect?”

Not only was he correct, but he was 110% correct and I was 110% moron. I couldn’t believe myself! I completely forgot that we arrived one year ago today!

The day we arrived, we were both sent to the hospital, mostly thanks to Sasuke, and after that it was nothing but hard work to adjust him to modern life and for me to pick up where I left off. THEN, with all this craziness about Valentine’s Day that I’ve been blocking out of my mind, our anniversary of our lives together didn’t even come into mind.

“No, Mitsuhide,” I lowered my head, hoping to give myself some time to stop the tears threatening to flow, “You’re right, you’re absolutely right. Today is a very special day and I’m so very happy that you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

I didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling that awful, teasing, evil smile!

“Of course I DIDN’T!” I scoffed, hitting his shoulder. “I was just shocked that you even cared or that you even wanted to do anything like this on today of all days!”

“Leave it to you to forget the important things,” he teased, pretending to defend himself from another hit. Our playful banter went on until the waiter came over to take our order. I couldn’t stop smiling throughout the entire dinner and even on our way home, my heart nearly bursting knowing that this day will mean something completely different to us, something that we have for ourselves, nobody else.

[onceuponanaromantic]

step one is to fall (step two is to recover)

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt: FFF54 Rainbow Kisses! Set in Code F&D universe. Italics are Fae-speak and the translations are in the notes. Enjoy!)

Seko.

 Darkness

 Diro.

 Scored walls and black scars along off-white walls. Lightning-sharp scarring pain soaring through her chest.

 Kana.

 Fire burning and particles of dust and ash in her mouth and nose.

 Lira.

 Crumbling floors and despair like the sea-salt pervading her mind.

 Teksi.

 Falling.

 If this had been a book, Aster would have woken at this point. She would have remembered the sudden fall and then darkness and then she would have remembered what happened next. Instead, she wakes up in an unknown bed that smelled of a scent that should have been familiar but wasn’t.

 Saying that she woke up is also incorrect, because Aster doesn’t actually wake. What happens is that she opens her eyes and her entire body starts screaming with the pain of it, and she desperately wishes to go back to sleep but her body, having noticed that she is no longer asleep, is having none of it. She doesn’t wake up as much as she gets dragged into the land of the living against her will. At least she got the time to count to five first.

 The only thing she registers once she’s gotten over the initial shock is that wow, the light is bright and her eyes are not used to this. It’s not so much bright as Aster doesn’t know how long she’s been in the darkness. She sends tendrils of her magic out, but there doesn’t seem to be any active danger.

 There’s a soft scratching sound, rather like the one a pen makes against paper. Aster tries to make words come out of her mouth but can’t quite get them to come out. Her throat feels like someone had force-fed her sand and not the good and soft sand from a beach either. The hard and grainy type from the harbour.

 “Where am I?” She asks, once she manages to get words out.

           “Rather further from home than you ought to be, travoksa.” A voice returns. The scratching stops and there’s the sound of a chair being pushed back. The air shifts around her as someone approaches.

             “Who are you?” Aster does actually realise that if the person before her --wait, no, being before her—is any danger, she isn’t exactly in a position to defend herself, but the question bears asking anyway.

           “Syoko no visokami.” Aster registers and understands the language, even if it isn’t a dialect she’s ever heard before or is familiar with. Okay, so this is at least a faerie. Or, if not a faerie, not someone who’s going to do her harm.

             Aster doesn’t know how she knows that. She doesn’t speak that language actually. It sounds like the language of the faerie, but not the one she’s familiar with. It’s too early for her to be doing deductions so she’s going to trust her instincts here.

             “Syoril! Kivo na mi haeri. Ka vyokso no mi haem?”

           “Ko raesa.”

           She hears a door open and footsteps as someone else enters the room. The footsteps aren’t human; they’re not the taps of human feet, there’s slight scratching and the rustle of scales?

             Aster opens her eyes.

             It’s a dragon.

             Aster would scream if she had the energy. The faerie seems to know it because she looks at Aster as if she can tell. The slightly raised eyebrow is signal enough and translates well enough. Aster can’t help feeling like she’s being slightly scolded.

             Oh lightning, it feels like Ro is doing it at her.

             Oh. Oh shit. Ro.

             “Relax, travoksa, your konira should receive my letter soon. You’re safe for now.”

           Aster thinks she should probably sit up. It is a little bit undignified to be talking while lying down on a bed.

             “How do you know Ro?”

           The faerie’s amused. Aster doesn’t know how she knows, until she extends her magic again and realises that the faerie is using the lattices to show her emotions, even as her face doesn’t change.

             “You’re faerie.”

             Aster doesn’t say anything else for a moment while she tries to remember what happened. Obviously, something’s gone wrong but what exactly has gone wrong is a different matter for Aster to figure out.

             “You broke two ribs and have severe to moderate burns damage around your legs, arms and back. You had an infection in your left leg which is going to leave a scar but has otherwise been treated. I would not advise moving your upper body yet.” The faerie says.

             “I would advise not moving your head either. While the lacerations on your head have been treated, the blunt force trauma of your fall resulted in a concussion. Your senses are still recovering so I would not advise attempting any large degree of magic for at least a moon cycle. This is the second time you’ve woken from your induced coma, so you’ll still be experiencing mild nausea and some pain.”

             Aster realises that the scratchy feeling she noticed when she woke up but dismissed was probably bandages.

             “Thank you.”

           The faerie nods. “Your guardians have been alerted and should be hear within a day. Syoril has already gone to guide them through the Pathways.”

             The faerie smirks. “I daresay your human parent will find travelling along the Rainbow Path a fascinating experience. Hex has informed me that they used to be a physics professor.”

             Aster wants to say something but feels herself drifting to sleep.

             When she next wakes, it’s to Ro pressing a kiss to her forehead. Robin’s there too, but they’re talking to the faerie. The faerie’s voice is slightly accented, now that she’s noticing properly.

             “-yes. Should expect full recovery within two moon cycles-“

           “-you. When letter-“

             “You okay?” Aster pulls away from trying to listen to the conversation between Robin and the faerie with the sudden urge to throw up.

             “’m sorry.” Ro just shakes their head.

           “You’re very lucky that the Guardian found you, you know. You could have died. I still can’t believe that you lucked yourself into getting the actual Guardian of the Pathways to find you.”

             “She called me travoksa, Ro.” Aster remembers.

           “Yeah, well, she’s got the right to. The Witch did raise her after all.”

[1stunseeliefaelass]

Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited

Chapter 26: Hauntings Ancient and New

"To be honest...I want to protect the ones I care about. And my Mama calls our home a tavern, but it's really a brothel. My Mama and the girls mean a lot to me, they were there for me when no one else was. Seeing the abuse some of those girls endured....just made me want to protect them. Mi familia." Arn tells her after some thought.

"That's a very honorable virtue you have. I hope you get to see your family again." Anna replies taking his hand.

Arn feels a warmth he's been missing for a long while. Course then his stomach interrupts that for him. He turns bright red as Anna giggles at the massive growl that comes from it. Luckily their food comes on down soon enough. Anna begins savoring her meal of lamb chops happily, whilst Arn enjoys a juicy steak inside broth. Arn's eyes widen as he savors the first bite, before he begins devouring it quickly. He stops halfway into it though as Anna is holding back the urge to giggle again. That and he can sense a possible boot about to be thrown his way. So he cleans up his manners and begins eating slowly like Anna is doing. He then chooses to pay for the meal to be a gentleman, since he has money from his arena winnings. Anna is thankful but decides to pay for a dessert for both of them to share. A pretty hefty ice cream sundae clearly made for two. Anna gets all giddy each time their spoons come close. Arn then gets an idea and asks if she'd like a bite of the ice cream flavor on his side. Anna nods accepting it, and lights up with delight as he spoon feeds her the bite. Her ears flitting to and fro to Arn's own delight. He's then surprised by Anna doing the same for him. His tail pops out and wags a little bit as he accepts the bite, then her smile makes his ears flit as hers are doing. Anna sees his tail is out and decides to reveal hers too, feeling comfortable enough around him. Oddly enough, it's got a cream colored tip that looks a bit like a heart. Arn can't help but comment on it.

"That is kinda cute."

Blushing a little Anna tells him, "Really? I used to get bullied for it."

"At least you have some color. Mine is just black.", Arn says raising his tail to show her.

"The guys who teased me probably would've liked you. They were all for solid colors, and compared me to a fox."

"I likely would've made them eat their words. Plenty of girls I knew had pretty fur colors." Arn states with conviction.

"Really? Shame we only met today. Would've enjoyed such a sweet protector."

Arn chuckles before saying, "And I probably would've liked having such a beauty for company, a f-friend even...if n-not more."

Anna giggles and blushes hard, "You really think I'm pretty?"

"Yes. Y-you're pretty. B-beautiful even!" Arn quickly shouts in extreme nervousness before holding his mouth shut.

Anna is surprised by that proclamation of course, "Oh wow....that's...gotta be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Arn flattens his ears and tucks his tail as he gets a bit more embarrassed, "I'm sure there's been other people who t-t-t-thought so."

"Actually aside from my parents and family, not really. Although.....if you're saying that....does it mean that you like.....that I'm your....eh uhm......you know your....c-c-crush I guess?" Anna inquires shyly as her own ears flatten too.

He is silent for a while before he finally replies, "I guess so."

Nergal suddenly comes up asking, "Do you wish to have a bit chardonnay, brandy, or bourbon? Or maybe a nice shot of gin? Or maybe you two lovebirds....wait sorry no... would you two adolescents like some absinthe?"

All of sudden Esmie pops in, "Oh no you don't amigo, get over here."

"I'm sorry but I'm assisting." Nergal explains before she jumps up and grabs him by the ear.

As the two begin bickering a bit, Anna glances at Arn before motioning away from the area. She then finally whispers to him as he doesn't get it.

"Let's get out of here."

Arn gets a moment of realization before quickly nodding and vacating with her right away. Esmie doesn't notice they're gone until Nergal chuckles a bit to himself.

"Wait....where did they go?"

"My work here is done." Nergal states before turning to walk off with Esmie still on his ear.

"Usted hijo de puta!" Esmie shouts before smacking him across the face, to no reaction whatsoever from him.

"Hmhmhmhm....That won't do much good. Now let's get going so that the couple can enjoy themselves. And also....kindly remove yourself from my ear. I'm not into rabbit foot bling." Nergal simply tells her.

"Oh calla ojete." Esmie tells him annoyed before letting go finally.

Nergal just laughs at her, "Question? Do you have anyone in your life? Aside from your son, any other man in your life?"

"I do not. As a businesswoman, I lack the time most other ladies have. It would benefit Arn to have a male presence in his life sure, but the regular bounty hunters from the local guild would likely do just fine. They're all good men, the lot of them. Although that Sygr fellow is.....actually nevermind. Forget I said anything." Esmie explains.

"So are you into giants yourself?"

"Shut. It." Esmie tells him a bit miffed.

"Already pushing buttons? Hmm, usually it takes longer. Perhaps what I said wasn't appropriate then. Maybe Sygr just reminds you of someone. You did say your friend, Arn's Father Argus, was a demon didn't you?"

"Watch it."

"Just how close were you two?" Nergal asks her, knowing full well what's coming.

Esmie about goes into her full form, but just as quickly holds back. Placing her hands on a nearby bench as she takes a few deep breaths. Finally she looks back at Nergal when she's absolutely sure she won't explode, "It's none of your business, not a story for you. Now leave it be."

"What kind of nightmare happened with you? Do tell, I'm rather interested. You tell, I tell. Simple enough?" Nergal questions her sitting down on that very bench.

"Argus and I were always friends. It never went further.....although I sometimes wish it did. I enjoyed his company, his personality, and even his appearance. But I knew better than to be a homewrecker. So when Argus began speaking of Clawdette, I let him have her. I never once got in their way, even viewed Clawdette as an older sister of sorts. She was tough, no nonsense, and while somewhat feral she was still caring. I was never jealous of her, not once. Their deaths both hit me harder than I care to admit. I kept it hidden from Arn as he grew, but I couldn't hold it together forever. Not all the time. You've no idea how many times I drank myself stupid over them. Or how much worse it got after Arn was taken away from me. I try to be strong, only to end up back in the pit."

"What's that like? The pit? I've never been in it, at least to my current knowledge."

"When I say pit, I mean depression. That feeling of just pure emptiness. Like nothing has meaning. That feeling that keeps you up at night, the feeling you get that ensures you don't want to leave your bed in the morning. You just become so indifferent to almost everything and everyone. You stop paying attention to what's around you. You wallow in your own self pity, pain, suffering, or whatever may have brought you to that ever swallowing pit of despair."

"Well then, I guess I was born in this pit." Nergal responds simply.

Esmie gets a shocked expression and immediately questions, "How is that even possible? To be born into perpetual depression?"

"Try being born without the capability to express emotions properly. With them being distant or none existent at times. Them being overbearing almost difficult to handle. To have a need that you know will never be fulfilled. Knowing someone loves you, but you cannot love them back. But you must try, or else your purpose is no longer necessary in your eyes. Or seeking someone's approval, that you'll never get. I dunno if that's a pit but, it somewhat fits your description."

"Sounds like a mix of that and borderline sociopathy. Course I could just not know you well enough yet. You said you knew someone loves you at least, even if loving them is damn near impossible. So do you perhaps have the ability to express things like compassion or empathy?", Esmie inquires calmly.

"Based on what I can remember, compassion is an interesting emotion. It's....it's hard to describe. To feel remorse for something that is insignificant or is that incorrect?"

"You're way off. Remorse is to put it simply, feeling bad for something you have done. Compassion is just being kind and the ability to be that way. Giving kindness for the sake of it and for the sake of others. Sometimes even yourself to feel good for the day." Esmie explains.

"Ah I see....I have found I can be kind. At least according to the woman I share a bed with. If you count tree roots as a bed anyway." Nergal states before noticing Esmie's weird expression, "She's a Dryad."

"Oh ok, now I get it. But Dryads can read others extremely well, better than most demons I daresay. If she says you're kind, then surely she's correct. Does she tell you you're anything else? That you have certain things to you that you may not notice?"

"She tells I'm often cold and distant, and yet warm and close. It's very strange. I'm a very messed up individual by your standards. I need to go find some food of my own now though. Why don't you think upon the Sygr situation, I'm going to a tavern and probably going to make a man question his drinking problems." Nergal explains before walking off.

Esmie is unsure of what to make of the situation but decides to consider how being with Sygr might pan out for her. Where as Morgen and Death have finally returned for the books she requested. As expected, there was precious little. In fact the 'book' itself, was incredibly small and shaped like a heptagon with a seven pointed star etched on the front cover for a design. The cover was simply a darkened leather with pages that looked extremely old. Even the language it was written in baffled Morgen.

"I'm sorry miss, but this is all I could find. I'd have told you it's contents if I could read the language. But it's not one I know." The elder pixie librarian told her.

"It's quite alright. I half expected there'd be nothing. Oh well, we'll just bring these back to our carriage for now. Thank you...oh and of course here's money to replace their vacant spaces."

Death then picks up the heavy box of spellbooks and other books in general and heads out to drop it off at the carriage. Morgen stays behind to pay for it all of course. Then she joins Death outside.

"Sorry to make you do that heavy lifting. Hopefully you're healed enough after every...."

"Believe me I'm fine."

Morgen then looks back towards the old path and shudders, "I severely doubt those guards are though."

"Yeah but we likely would've had to kill them ourselves if they weren't hollow statues now. Let's just be glad we were spared an unneeded fight. So I'm guessing the language of the book is unknown to you as well?"

"I've looked through it, and I can't say I recall it's meaning. I feel like I should know what it's saying and yet I don't." Morgen expresses a bit discouraged.

Death pauses as he's tying the box down and gently places a hand under her chin. He then lifts her face up, "Hey now, don't get discouraged. Perhaps it's part of your memories, and you just haven't reached that part yet. So what if you don't recall? Memory is rarely perfect, sometimes it's even wrong all together. Now...where is everyone?"

"Thank you Death. And I don't know." Morgen replies looking around a bit confused before continuing, "Maybe we could just rest in the carriage for now? Wait until everyone is back."

"Or perhaps we could actually do something else around the village for a bit. A simple walk perhaps?" Death suggests offering his arm.

Morgen snickered softly but wrapped her arm in his, "Look at you being all open to enjoying social activities Mr. Antisocial."

"Said Ms. Social Butterfly, who wanted to rest in the carriage for the rest of the day." Death points out.

Morgen rolls her eyes as Death chuckles a bit. They walk past the tavern Nergal's in and notice a man looking very much drained. Then a few more are seen as they pass it by. They decide to avoid the tavern for now and focus on enjoying the walk together. Course they do stop for a bit of dinner as well. Morgen mostly tells Death a few of the nicer stories about her childhood as he listens intently. Course she does eventually coax him into telling a few stories himself. Such as any about how he met his friends and a few regarding his family members. Ultimately the two enjoy each other's company.

Arn and Anna meanwhile had decided to go see the secret place Anna mentioned before. After following an ancient looking pathway with ivy and other plants covering it, Arn saw it. A ruined castle like fortress that had clearly seen a battle once. One that was a massacre from what he could gather as he observed the skeletal remains of knights around him. What he didn't expect, was that he only saw knights of Uther's kingdom. No other combatants' bodies lay around there. Either none of the enemy died, they were each other's enemies for some reason, or something different happened. Arn briefly thought he could hear the sounds of the men's battle cries and deaths in the air around him.

Anna's voice suddenly pierced through to him, "Hey Arn, you ok over there? You kinda spaced out for a second."

"Yeah I'm fine.", Arn replied before focusing on her and avoiding the skeletons.

The two then began to enter the ruins proper. Arn found the fact that there were more skeletons inside to be VERY disconcerting. Course Anna came up to him and held his hand.

"It's ok, they're not gonna come to life I promise. They never have. Yeah they're a little scary at night but they're just remains...right?" Anna told him with a bit of nervousness.

"Well let's not try to disturb them. I get the feeling they didn't die peacefully.", Arn says even wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Anna blushes after a slight jump but quickly tells him, "Yeah uhm...let's not disturb them. The main building is my favorite place, it's got lots of interesting things in there."

"Right." Arn responds as she guides him to the main building.

The two then enter and the foyer holds many hallways that have been ravaged by both fires and time. Anna only leads him down the main one though, as it's the least cluttered. It leads to massive double doors and the two find ancient stairs behind them. They manage to hold up surprisingly, but Arn is still nervous about it as they go up. Finally at the top, Anna pulls him by the hand to a specific room. On the door of it are many intricate designs pertaining to the moon, night sky, and stars. The name plaque that was once on it was broken off at the intial, an M. Inside the room was a gorgeous bed that looked WAY too pristine for such an derelict place. In fact, most of the room looked to be in mostly good condition. Aside from occasional broken small items across the floor. Arn also sees a portrait that's torn in a specific place, lifting the torn part up, he sees an eerily familiar face.

Anna notes his reaction and comes over, "Something wrong?"

Arn shakes his head and drops the torn piece, "Nothing...just an old painting."

"Right. Well I guess the white haired lady is very pretty huh? I always wonder who she was. She always seems so happy in that portrait with the other knights. Do you think she had a good life? Or do you perhaps think more cynically than me?"

"I don't know...but she does look very happy." Arn states simply.

He does smirk a bit however. Knowing that despite everything, Morgen still has days when she smiles just as brightly.

Anna of course picks up a nearby book and hugs it, "This is her journal, at least I think it is. I know you're not supposed to read them, but....it's been such an inspiration for me. I wish I could've met her. Everyone always says she was a kind woman when I ask them. That she was always willing to help those who needed her. While not as good in fight as her fellow knights, she'd use her magic to defend and heal all she could."

Arn thinks for a minute before saying, "You speak of her like she was your role model."

"She is in a way. Do you wanna see her armor? It's still all nice and shiny. It's in this walk in closet over here." Anna asks as she hurries over to the doors.

Arn follows her and is in awe with her when he sees it, "Looks like it never saw a day of wear."

He feels however in the back of his mind that something is amiss, but can't quite place it. Instead he looks upon the set in more awe. The designs are as intricate as they come, which makes sense given that Morgen is a princess. The theme surprised him however, white and silvery blue for the colors with unicorn styled ornaments on it. Hanging off the pauldrons were tiny white unicorn horns on thin chains. The helm of sorts had a short unicorn horn attached to the front, the horn itself being cresent shaped. Aside from those decals, were moon and night designs mixed with scenes of unicorns that looked straight out of vintage paintings. Little do he or Anna know however, that a certain spirit has been stirred by their presence. Anna however keeps Arn busy so they remain oblivious as he approaches the room slowly.

"Her armor is just so beautiful, I'll bet when she wore it she was even more beautiful as a result."

"I'm sure she would...Anna...I have something to say..." Arn starts to say when he suddenly notices something in the armor, a reflection behind them of a figure. He suddenly shouts, "Get Behind Me!", drawing his long knife and putting Anna behind him to face the figure.

They find a ghostly knight before them who asks them two simple questions, "Why have you come? What do you want with this place?"

"What's it to you?", Arn responds making sure Anna is safely behind him.

"I once lived in these halls. I served the lady whose room and closet you're currently standing in. I defend this place even in death from intruders who would do harm here. So I will ask once more, and once only. WHY HAVE YOU COME AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?" The knight booms down at them.

Arn growls before he finally answers, "We didn't mean any harm. We were just looking around, nothing was taken."

"You will leave then, now. I see no reason for you to remain in this place of death. Nor do I see why you..." The knight explains before pointing at Anna, "...need to keep coming back here after tonight."

Anna protests of course, "Uh please....I've never taken anything. I always leaves things where they belong."

"Yet you continue to VIOLATE the privacy of my fair lady. Something she valued highly above most things aside from her duties to this realm."

"She inspires me! I never meant any harm! I love her story and if anything looked too personal I wouldn't read it. I always skipped those more personal bits." Anna pleads.

"Your intent may not have been bad. But I cannot let this slight go. I can only forgive it if you leave and never return. There's nothing here for the living, not anymore."

Arn however has his own two gilt to give, "What do you know of your lady? What she has become?"

"Who are you to ask me that? A child of wolf and....something else. Something....older. Far older than me."

Arn grits his teeth, "Watch what you say ghost."

"I have no obligation to you. I'm already dead so your threats mean nothing boy. Besides, even a young wolf from the arena is no match for the dead. Especially a knight who has disciplined himself in combat when compared to a savage gladiator."

"I WARNED YOU!" Arn shouts before charging the ghost.

The knight sighs before simply grabbing him by his head. With this act he slams Arn into the ground once before releasing him, "That will be your only warning child. Leave now while I'm still in a decent mood. I won't harm you further so long as you follow my instructions."

Arn gets up and growls before going to charge again. Anna however grabs his arm, "Stop it. Let's just go.....even if it means....I can't come back anymore..."

Arn notes her voice cracks and sees her beginning to cry. He relents, but tells the knight, "This is not over. You will see reason yet."

"And yet you failed to until just now? Believe me. There's nothing left to this folly. Just leave." The knight replies simply.

Anna then leads Arn away to leave the area, whilst the spirit remains in the room. His lonely vigil ever present, even in his demise.

Arn hugs Anna as they walk away outside, "I'm so sorry Anna. It's probably my fault he's being so harsh to you. But I promise I'll make sure you can keep going back there whenever you wish."

"How....how can you promise that?" Anna inquires as she sobs.

"Let's just say, I know somebody he'll have to listen to." Arn tells her.

"About what he said....the knight. What was he talking about?"

"Uhm....well you know I'm Werewolf. But the other part of me....it's something even scarier. I don't want to discuss it, but a lot of people hate the race my Father came from."

Anna looks at him sadly, "Oh. That sounds pretty shitty of them."

"People have good reasons to hate the race. But not everyone in the race was or is a bad person. At least Mama says my Father certainly was always better than his kin usually were."

Anna finds herself confused, but ultimately continues to question him, "What about the other part? Where he compared you to a gladiator?"

"I was in.......the arena...until recently. I was captured as a child....and forced to fight most of my life. Fighting at an early age has its privilege....and its price." Arn tells her reluctantly.

Anna looks horrified, which Arn expected, what he wasn't expecting is why she was horrified, "How much have you suffered?"

"More than I care to describe Anna. Anyway, can we...change the subject at least? Please? I really, REALLY don't like talking about this. Lot of bad memories from that place still haunt me." Arn implores of her.

"Oh of course. Sorry to bring that up."

"It's ok. You deserved to know. I kinda owed you for getting us kicked out of there." Arn replies.

"I don't blame you Arn. It wasn't your fault. I should've known I wouldn't be welcome." Anna tells him softly as her tears slowly begin to dry.

"Now let's go talk to that person I think will talk some sense into him."

Esmie soon spots the two and immediately hurries to Arn, "What happened niño? Why is your nose bloody?"

"I'm fine Mama, just a grumpy old ghost. I need to talk to Morgen about him in fact. Where is she?"

"On a walk with Death. They're actually nearly back from what I can see. Why don't you head back to the carriage. I suspect we'll be leaving soo.."

"Mama please, just a bit longer. Besides, it may take a while for Morgen to help us out." Arn protests to her.

Esmie sighs at him, "And what could she possibly need to help you with niño?"

"The ghost that apparently fucked up my nose. He's guarding the place we were at and is being an ass. Especially in regards to Anna. I promised I'd help her continue to be able to keep going back to her favorite place. It's really important to her Mama. Please."

Esmie thinks silently for a moment before hearing Death question her, "Why is it that Arn looks like he was hit recently?"

"Arn actually has something to tell you and Morgen. It involves the thing that did this to him." Esmie explains simply, to Arn's relief.

"Really? Well out with it then, what happened?" Death asks.

"A ghost is haunting the ruins Anna brought me to. He was pissed off and has banished Anna from ever going back. But the ruins should have significance to Miss Morgen, and the ghost knight claims he served her. So I figure maybe he'll listen to reason if Morgen talks to him." Arn tells him.

"Was he vengeful?"

"I don't think so. He only bashed me into the ground once, and I.....kinda...was a.....a dick....I deserved it." Arn admits rubbing his neck.

Death facepalms, "What did you do?"

"Charged at him because he provoked me."

He then sighs, "Of course you did."

Morgen inquires of Arn however, "You said he was a knight, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Pray tell, why banish Anna when it was you who attacked?" Morgen asks calmly.

Anna then timidly steps forward, "I sometimes g-go into an old room there....it has a journal t-t-that I'm guessing is yours.....I'm so sorry for reading it. It just inspired me so much."

Morgen pulls the young girl into a hug as she begins crying, "Easy there my dear. Granted I'd not recommend reading anymore journals. But I do not mind that you read mine. In fact, I'm glad those dismal pages inspired you in some way. Is this really why he's denying further entrance?"

Anna can only nod and sniffles a bit. Causing Morgen to gently stroke her head in a Motherly way. Death can tell by the look in her eye, and on her face, that somebody is getting a stern talking to now.

"You're actually going to talk to that spirit?" Death questions her.

"Yes. For her sake and the sake of others who may go there. The only beings I don't want there, are anyone that would steal from it or cause harm to the place. We're going."

Death sighs to himself, "I suppose I better come with you then. Just in case either his spirit, or someone else's has a vengeful moment."

Morgen nods and lets Death follow her. They come along the path and Death soon begins to feel the agony of many dead beings. Clearly a battle had taken place and he sees just how right he is when he and Morgen reach the fort. Morgen walks around the bodies a bit lost looking as Death starts hearing the voices of those who died in the battle. Course he knows he wouldn't normally hear it unless the area was haunted. He then finally goes over to Morgen as she's examining a body.

"Are you alright?"

"I knew these people...all of them....they fought...and....d-died...for me that day..." Morgen tells him with a crack in her tone.

Death helps her up from the ground before gently holding her, "You don't have to be here Morgen. I'm sure Arn and the girl will understand given your connection to the tragedy here."

"It was MORE than just a tragedy. This was a MASSACRE. All because I was spending more of my time here than at home. Away from HIM." Morgen says with a bit of anger mixed into the sadness.

"You say that as if you believe it's..."

"It WAS MY FAULT!" Morgen shouts at him.

Death remains calm though, knowing full well how overwhelming a haunting can be on someone within it's radius. Mentally, physically, and even emotionally. He gently strokes Morgen's head and tells her, "This wasn't your fault. These men chose to defend you, because you were WORTH saving. Because you ARE worth saving."

Morgen looks up at him in surprise and goes to reply before someone else speaks up, "He is right my lady. I knew the risks, we all did. Even those who survived this horror knew. Only very few of us did. I and those who remain upon these grounds never doubted you. The Reaper speaks true, you are and always were worth saving to all of us."

The two look upon the ghostly knight and Morgen asks him, "Tell me...how long have you remained here? How long has it been since we last spoke....Sir Alphonse?"

"Not yet long enough for you to have forgotten me it seems." Alphonse tells her simply.

"Your voice is as distinct as I recall it to be. As are your manners with guests it seems."

"You're speaking of the boy and girl from earlier?"

"Yes, I am. I can understand you wanting to defend me and any of my things that remain here. But I cannot let you bully or harm people. Especially those under my protection. Besides, the girl Anna doesn't strike me as ill intended. She can keep coming here if she so chooses as I see it. Do I make myself clear on that?" Morgen states authoritatively.

"Transparently your highness. Forgive my transgression, I only meant to keep your secrets as just that, secrets. I remember how important privacy was to you."

Morgen only sighs, "I forgive you, but I will say that I'm at least trying to work on telling people things that need to be said."

"Good. Perhaps you'd like to see what remains here? And take what you were unable to?" Alphonse asks her.

"I suppose I can. Assuming either of us can carry it all."

"As I lived to serve you, I can aid you in this as well my fair lady. No offense to your companion of course." Alphonse states.

"Pardon?" Death questions him.

"I would assume she chose you for companionship given the way you held her a moment ago. Not to mention the way you spoke to her."

"I....uh.....fair enough." Death says awkwardly.

"It seems I'm right to assume then. Given your reaction. Anyway, just this way, and be mindful. The place is old enough to be falling apart because of more than just unrepaired, burnt wood."

"Hmm, well lead on." Death replies with Morgen following alongside him.

Morgen is amazed at how well kept her old room appears aside from a few fallen objects, "How is this room so pristine?"

"A certain....'pest' who keeps coming back. And no I don't speak of the girl."

"There have been other visitors?" Death inquires.

"Yes only a few though. Usually the villagers will leave flowers on occasion to commemorate all we did for them. It's...always a good sight everytime they hold their memorial festival too. So I don't bother the villagers usually. I only got cross with Anna because she was reading your journal and learning secrets of yours. However, there is one man I keep tryng to turn away. He always comes by every few nights hoping I'll miss him. Occasionally he does escape my notice, with some small 'trinket' or two as well."

"That explains why you were so quick to judge Anna. Even so, would I know this person?" Morgen inquires.

"You would. One of your 'suitors' from some years back."

Morgen facepalms next, "I THOUGHT I made it VERY clear as to why I called things off between us."

Death then looks at her shocked, "Wait let me get this straight, you have an ex?"

"Yes. I had hoped he got it through his head though."

"Clearly not if he's sneaking in here and making off with your property." Death expresses with a bit of sarcasm to his tone.

Morgen shakes her head in annoyance before walking out of the room for a moment. Course she hears something that annoys her even more once she's out the door. With her eye twitching, Morgen seeks out the source of the noise. Only to find a cloaked figure coming through a window down the hall.

"Aleyn, what are you doing?"

The figure freezes a bit before turning around slowly, "Morgen? Is that you?"

"Who else would I be Aleyn?"

"I don't know that ghost that hates my guts?"

"Gee I wonder why he would hate you. There a reason you keep coming here to take little things I own?"

"You never came back until now. I suspected you never would after what happened. I had hoped you wouldn't either." Aleyn tells her before freezing again.

"Excuse me?"

"Look Morgen maybe we could talk about it more in a place that isn't haunted by an angry ghost?"

Morgen eyes him suspiciously for a moment, but finally tells him, "Fine. But you're helping bring what's left of my things here to my carriage. And if you say a SINGLE WORD against my current companion, you'll be walking home instead of 'talking privately'."

Aleyn laughed nervously, "Right....heheh...wait you've moved on?"

"I have. What of it?"

"Oh eh...nothing....something to talk about in our private talk later."

Morgen gets suspicious of him all the more but lets him follow her. When he and Death see each other, Death gives a judgmental stare whilst Aleyn gulps.

"Ha-have you come to take his soul?" Aleyn asks nervously pointing at Alphonse.

Alphonse facepalms, "Can I kill him now?"

"No, he's useful for now. Besides I can't afford to make anymore enemies. Having Uther's ire is bad enough." Morgen says.

"So it's true? You ran away from home again? Is it also true that you took Arthur as well?"

Morgen nearly defends herself but Death speaks up, "Her Uncle got her and Arthur out whilst I was rescued by Barrcus. A far better Father to her than Uther ever will be. And given you seem to have sympathy for Uther, does that make me the better man of the two of us?"

"Watch your tongue you son of a whore! You don't know her like I do!"

"Says the man who probably has her underwear tucked away in his bedroom, among other little things of Morgen's. Stalker much?" Death says sarcastically.

"How DARE you? I would NEVER do something so uncouth as to take a woman's undergarments."

"Then what did you take? It had to have been small enough for your shrimpy arms to carry." Death inquires smirking a bit.

Aleyn growls before saying, "That's none of your business."

"Maybe not but it's certainly mine." Morgen tells him firmly.

"Ah....uhhhh....right....well your perfume...some of your make-up that you rarely ever wore....I NEVER WORE IT MYSELF!" Aleyn quickly replies nervously.

"Uh huh. What else?"

"I actually found the wedding dress you would've worn to our wedding and...."

"OK HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! You are NOT about to tell us you do some fucked up role-playing involving that dress are you?" Death asks sounding concerned.

"NO! Now if you DON'T MIND I shall explain. I just keep it around my home as I figure you probably won't want it. Or if you ever did, I'd have it in pristine condition for you." Aleyn admits.

"Aleyn, you've no reason to keep it. Sell it or give it away. I never liked that dress anyway. Uther picked it out and it just....didn't suit me."

"You looked like a goddess in it."

"A goddess about to raped by Zeus himself maybe." Morgen retorts sarcastically.

Death actually laughs and questions them both, "Just what did this dress look like? I must know now. Just to sate my curiosity."

"Are you sure Horseman? I remember that eyesore way too well, personally I'd rather go through my death all over again than see Morgen walk down the aisle with that HORRIBLE 'dress'." Alphonse states firmly.

Morgen reluctantly shows him with her memories and Death laughs even more, "Hahahaha! I didn't think you could refine sexuality.....Hahahahahahahaha! Seriously seeing that dress reminds me of The Great Gatsby!"

Morgen snickers at that, "Come to think of it, I think it was around the twenties when Aleyn and Uther found that dress." She can only laugh as Death nearly hits the floor.

Even Alphonse laughs with them before Aleyn defensively asks Death, "Well then BARBARIAN, what would YOU have her wear? What wedding dress could you see her in?"

"Technically it's bad luck..huff haaaah...to see one's bride before the wedding...huuuuuuh ahhhh...so I can't really imagine it...now can I?" Death says sarcastically as he catches his breath.

"Cut the sarcasm and just answer damn you!"

"Fine then if you insist that much ya creep." Death tells him a bit annoyed before answering, "If I must give an opinion, sure I could see her in a strapless. But honestly a silvery blue would absolutely make her pop with beauty. She's called the Moon Witch is she not, why not make her rival the moon itself on such an occasion? It would definitely give the saying 'I love you to the moon and back' quite the new meaning I'd say."

Morgen's eyes light up at Death's words and she shyly inquires, "So does that mean you...?"

"Yes."

"I didn't even fini..."

"You didn't need to. I've heard similar questions before. Trust me, I know what you were about to ask. You wanted to know if what I said means I find you as beautiful as the moon, if not more so. Am I correct?"

Morgen blushes, "As always, you're perceptive."

"Heheh..It seems I've been lacking in that department with the romance side of things though lately. If anything I say things by accident." Death admits rubbing his neck with a chuckle.

Aleyn only groaned before muttering, "At least I actually tried and KNEW what I was saying."

Death growls briefly in annoyance before saying, "At least I can learn. The question is can you?"

"If you two are quite done measuring each other's dicks, the lady will likely need help removing her things from here." Alphonse told them both in equal annoyance.

He then grabs them both by their heads and tosses them into the room, "There, now they can do it themselves."

"Gladly, once we have a list." Death expresses simply as he gets up.

Morgen comes into the room to make a list onto a crystal. She only grabs one thing from inside the room, a tiny ornate chest. She then hands the crystal to the gentlemen to collect everything. Death naturally tries to be civil about it so they can be quick about it. Only for Aleyn to volunteer to carry everything.

"Look I'm done with the whole being stupid can you just...NOT?! Like please...THINK."

"I'm not doing anything but volunteering my help." Aleyn protests.

"Genius, she gave us an inventory crystal with a list on it, to put the stuff into it. It's really not that complicated. You don't have to do any heavy lifting. You're not impressing..."

"Just SHUSH. I can handle this, I WILL handle this in fact. Now what's the first thing?"

Death sighs shaking his head, "The contents of that chest there. Again you don't have to carry...."

"Shut up damn it! I said I'll handle this."

"Ok, fine. Have fun with that. I'm going to do the practical thing in the meantime. Let me know when you're done being a moron."

"Excuse me young fellow..."

"Y-young? EhEH...ehAH! Your stupidity is obviously showing itself." Death tells him sarcastically yet again.

Aleyn grumbles to himself as he tries lifting the chest, or dragging it. Death meanwhile goes about to room to collect what he can. He starts with a few small things around the room, then moves onto the wardrobe. He collects everything in there with ease whilst using the crystal's magic. Course he does pause a moment to observe her armor set.

"I have to ask...why?" Death inquires of Morgen after coming back out from the wardrobe.

Morgen notices him pointing and comes over to see what it is this time. When realizing it's her old armor she's looks at him with her eye twitching ever so slightly, "And what exactly is wrong with it?"

Death, sensing this probably should've been saved for later cautiously responds with, "I just want to know what was going on while this was being made. It looks fine, but it's....so ornate. It looks like it belongs more in ceremonies than it does on the fields of battle."

"I am a mage more than a swordswoman admittedly."

"STILL. That's....a LOT of detail for a set used in battle. Even for a mage. Usually mages want armor that isn't heavy. I mean look at me, I don't wear heavy plate very often, if ever. I don't even wear chest plates usually. The most armor I have is my kilts, which occasionally come with plate. Either way, the way I fight and cast spells requires that I'm able to move. So I need to accommodate myself by using armor that gives me more mobility. Though I wouldn't recommend not wearing anything up top. I only do so because I can get away with it through my healing ability." Death tells her before chuckling a bit towards the end.

"Bare in mind that ONE I am a Princess, and TWO, that Uther was the among those who wanted to see my design ideas BEFORE it was ever made. You can probably imagine some things got added in."

"Right. Anyway I know a place that makes far better armor for combat and for mages. We'll have to go there later. After all this madness. For now shall I keep letting that one dig his own grave or shall I just put the chest in the crystal?" Death states.

"Please do get it into the crystal. Before he passes out due to lack of oxygen."

"Heh, may be a little late for that. His brain already lacks a little bit of it." Death says laughing a bit before Morgen's slight glare shuts him up. "Oh come on I was just kidding."

[klausplease]

Shakira and Lip Gloss

Requested By: Anonymous

Prompt: Hey I was wondering if you could write a fic where Klaus’s or Diego's s/o comes out as genderfluid and they’re really scared and nervous because their family isn’t very accepting and it’s kind of been put into their head that it’s wrong not to be their birth gender but Klaus or Diego tells them its ok and they're not doing anything wrong by being who they are and its just really angsty and fluffy?

Post Info: Genderfluid reader, AMAB. Mentions of transphobia. Light angst.

A/N: I’m... not sure this is what you wanted. But I tried.

~

Diego was concerned about (y/n). He hadn’t seen him all day, even though Saturdays were usually when he came over to the Hargreeves household. He wasn’t jealous about the fact that Klaus and his boyfriend had a standing date, when he still had to schedule time with him. He wasn’t. He was just a little miffed that the two spent so much time together. Without him. Doing ‘secret things’, as Klaus had told him when he asked.

But (y/n) wasn’t at the mansion today, as evidenced by the fact that he was practically being attacked by a very angry Klaus.

“What did you do, you moron?” Klaus asked, apropos of nothing.

Diego shot Klaus a look. “I do a lot of things Klaus, several of which you seem to find moronic. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“(Y/n) hasn’t come for our weekly cult meeting and I am laying full responsibility for that fact on you. So, what have you done?”

“I didn’t do anything Klaus. Maybe he’s sick,” he attempted to sound nonchalant, despite the fact that he was quite worried about the status of his boyfriend.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “They would have told me.”

Wondering at Klaus’ use of the singular they, Diego was about to ask Klaus what he meant by that when (y/n) entered the room.

“Hey babe,” Diego said instead, moving across the room to hug his boyfriend.

“Hi,” they muttered into his shoulder, seeming to curl in on themselves a bit.

Holding (y/n) out at arm’s length, he frowned and looked them over. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine cariño. Just a bad brain day.”

The taller man nodded understandingly. He was quite familiar with his boyfriend’s depression and how it could affect him unexpectedly and at any given time. He leaned in for a slightly longer hug and gave him a kiss to the forehead.

(Y/n) smiled tiredly up at Diego and squeezed his hand before slipping away to greet Klaus.

“Hey ghost boy,” they teased gently.

“Hola, mi corazón,” Klaus hugged them and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of their head. “¿Cómo estás?”

Resting their head against Klaus’ chest, (y/n) mumbled “más o menos”.

“¿por qué más o menos?”

They looked meaningfully up at the stairs, signalling to Klaus that they didn’t want to discuss it here. Since Diego was the only one in the room, he was confused and vaguely upset that (y/n) didn’t want him to know what was bothering them.

Klaus, either oblivious to his brother’s inner turmoil or ignoring it, whisked (y/n) away to his upstairs bedroom.

As soon as the door was closed, Klaus rounded on them, crossing his arms. “You have to tell him.”

(Y/n) threw themself face first onto Klaus’ bed. “I know.”

Massaging their calf, Klaus let out a heavy breath. “We’ve talked about this. He won’t care. He loves you mi cielito.”

“You don’t know that Klaus.” And now they were crying. Big fat, heartbroken tears.

Since about four months ago, every Saturday they came to the Hargreeves household. Together with Klaus, they would research, shop, and modify. Makeup was practiced, and outfits were cultivated.

This is because four months ago, Klaus had found them at a bus stop crying. It was a common hang out for junkies and homeless people, and even though Klaus was doing the sober thing, he liked to hit up those spots in case he could help the younger kids who weren’t too deep into it yet.

He found (y/n) there, crying and being approached by several of the seedier dealers. He had bundled the shivering, nearly passed out, significant other of his brother and taken them home. There (y/n) had explained to Klaus how they ended up there. They had been caught in a skirt by their older brother, who they were currently crashing with, and given a thorough dressing down. Childhood indoctrination of transphobia falling out of his mouth and slowly tearing down (y/n)’s hard won self confidence.

After that, Klaus assisted them in finding a new roommate, a good place to stay. The days spent together doing that, turned into a standing date where Klaus helped (y/n) explore their newly expressed gender identity.

“How about this. We both get dressed up, then we go downstairs and tell my dumb brother. Tell him “take it or leave it”. And if I am drastically wrong, we will buy so much Ben and Jerry’s you’ll get sick. And we’ll steal his repurposed sex harness. Hide it in Luther’s room.”

Sniffling, (y/n) smiled tentatively at Klaus and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That sounds good. I’m down for that.”

Klaus was off the bed immediately, making a beeline for his closet where their things were stored.

He pulled out a soft, knit cropped sweater along with a pair of loose black joggers. The sweater looked like it was straight from the 80’s with four thick stripes of red, green, purple, and white. It was an outfit (y/n) wore often, when it was just them and Klaus. It was comfortable, while still making them feel cute.

“Here. He likes soft things.”

(Y/n) smiled softly at Klaus and took the clothes, stripping down in front of Klaus with no shame. Klaus discarded his clothes as well, changing into a black Ramones crop top and fleece Star Wars sleep pants.

They grinned at each other, smoothing palms over their soft clothing. “We look great,” Klaus said matter of factly.

(Y/n) just gave a soft snort of laughter and began pulling makeup items out of Klaus’ bureau.

The clairvoyant man went to turn on some music, letting (y/n) take a moment and decide what they wanted to do.

Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira begin playing over the speaker, from Klaus’ small purple ipod. Both of which (y/n) got for him.

Klaus made his way over, body undulating to the beat, hands drifting in front of his body at intervals. In response, to the music and to Klaus’ comfortability in his own body, (y/n) began swaying their hips to the music. Soon enough they were holding hands, stepping in and out, closer and then away, hips moving in concentric circles. They danced through the song, and by the end, (y/n) was loose limbed and more settled in their skin.

One of Klaus’ world altering smiles was shot their way, and then he was picking through their combined, assorted makeup.

“I was thinking a more natural look? Some eyeshadow, light foundation, lip gloss?” He spoke absently, looking for whatever would aid him in creating the look he had in mind.

“Sounds good. I don’t think I’m up for anything too complicated.”

Klaus hummed in acknowledgement and handed (y/n) the supplies he had gathered. “I think these colors will be good.” And then he was digging around again, looking for something for himself to wear.

He popped up, reminiscent of a meerkat, and asked “You do mine, I’ll do yours?”

In response, (y/n) simply nodded and set their chosen palettes down on the bed, before settling themself on it as well. They patted the spot in front of them, and Klaus was soon occupying it.

Klaus’ makeup was easy, some simple pale purple eyeshadow and a quick cat eye. Blush and highlighter on the tip of his european nose. Pale pink tinted lip gloss to top the look off. His hair was naturally curly, and quite voluminous, so nothing had to be done to it.

“Done.”

Klaus got up to look at himself and hummed in satisfaction. “You get better every time we do this.”

Flushing, (y/n) situated themself to allow Klaus access to their face. The process was much the same as for Klaus, save for the addition of some powder foundation. Where Klaus’ eyeshadow was purple, theirs was a rich red-brown. Where Klaus’ gloss was pale pink, theirs was a deep red. Their hair was longer than Klaus’, and a different kind of curly though it was just as thick, if not thicker. Klaus decided to put it up, gathering the unruly curls into a messy bun on the top of their head. He pulled some small pieces down to frame their face, and rest over their shoulders.

When he was done, he pressed a kiss to the top of (y/n)’s head, humming along to The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani.

“We’re done. You ready to go see Diego?”

Stalling for time, (y/n) jumped up and began rummaging in one of Klaus’ drawers. “We almost forgot our fuzzy socks!”

Smiling indulgently, Klaus took the pink pair and slipped them on. He waited for (y/n) to slip on the black and white striped ones before speaking again. “You can’t avoid him forever, mi cielito.”

A gusty sigh. “I know. I’m just… scared.”

Klaus wrapped them in a tight hug, giving them an extra squeeze before letting go. “I know. But whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

Grabbing Klaus’ hand, (y/n) dragged him down the stairs and into the training room, where Diego was bound to be brooding.

They caught him on his way out to patrol, he was already strapped up and putting his knives into their holster.

(Y/n) had to stifle a hysterical giggle at the memory of Klaus calling it a repurposed sex harness.

“Diego?” They asked tentatively, catching his attention.

He looked up with an irate expression that immediately dropped when he say (y/n), making way for one of awe and confusion.

“Yes?” he responded, just as hesitant and much more confused.

“So, uhm. Klaus. I’ve been spending time with Klaus because…” They trailed off, the words forming strange and incorrect in their mouth.

Klaus gave them a reassuring pat and Diego drew nearer, to be just that little bit closer.

A deep breath in, measured breath out. “ Klaus has been helping me. I’m genderfluid. Which means-”

“I know what it means,” Diego cut them off. “I… yeah, I know what it means.” Diego cocked his head and asked, “Pronouns?”

And that, the easy acceptance, is what caused (y/n) to really let loose on the waterworks. It was lucky that Klaus had thought to use waterproof makeup.

“They- they and them,” (y/n) stuttered out, falling into Diego’s arms. “Mostly,” they added, face buried in Diego’s shoulder.

“I can do that. Just have to keep me updated.”

Diego held them out at arm’s length. “I love. No matter what. A little thing like gender isn’t going to keep me away from such a great person. You’re gorgeous.” He kissed their forehead. “Truly stunning.” Their cheek. “I’m in awe of you.” Their other cheek. “And you.” Their nose. “My love.” Their eyelid. “Are a giant fuckin’ nerd.” Their other eyelid.

That last remark got Diego a smack to the back of his head, but it was worth it to see (y/n) smile.

“I have the best datemate ever,” he declared before kissing them soundly on the mouth.

They were so caught up in eachother, that neither noticed Klaus slipping out of the room.

[cycwrites]

A Taste of Home

A post-Nowish, Mitchsen-centric, drabble prompt from the Master Beta, @tiny-maus-boots. Sorry this took so long, Nerd.

Takes place in some nebulous future after Beca signs with DJ Khaled, puts out an album and goes on tour.

Rating: Teen

Words: 4236

Also on AO3 and FFN

All my other stories in this series: Tumblr  AO3

~B~

“Vienna sucks.”

“Beca.” Chloe half chided, half soothed. “You’re just tired, love.”

Beca slumped in the chair at the desk in her hotel suite. “I am not. It’s still fucking freezing here.” She resolutely ignored the fact that she’d just been rubbing her eyes like a toddler. She could clearly see the concern in Chloe’s face over their sometimes fuzzy Skype video chat and she wanted to stop whining but it was just too much effort.

At first being on tour had been fun and amazing, except all her girls had jobs and couldn’t take a nine month sabbatical to travel the globe with her. Still, the excitement of the crowds and the energy had been enough to keep her going, along with the frequent video chats whenever they had time, individually or together. She was home for a week or two every couple of months for R&R, but after the first six months the novelty was wearing a little thin once the concert was over for the night.

Then Theo had starting pushing on her to maybe extend the tour since she was doing so well, add a few more months to the end which would extend it to almost a full year of travel. At first he was subtle about it, but then it became almost daily; if it wasn’t directly after her concerts than it was the following morning when they were getting ready to fly to the next stop.

“How can I help?” Chloe asked gently.

“You can’t.” It came out petulant and she knew it. “You’re more miles away than I care to think about.” Just the memory of Chloe’s arms around her, something she hadn’t felt in a month, was almost enough to bring her to tears. “Theo is being an annoying turtle, no one can make a decision without my input and I just want them to leave me alone so I can rest.” The whine was in full force but she couldn’t stop it; she knew her voice was cracking and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was have a tantrum about being on fucking tour when she knew it was the at least the fourth best thing to happen to her. (The first was Chloe, the second was Staubrey and third was the rest of the Bellas if anyone had cared to ask her.)

“Oh, Becs,” Chloe whispered and reached out to touch her laptop.

Beca flinched and realized that she’d been incorrect before; the absolute last thing she wanted was for Chloe to be sad and not have any way to comfort her. Of course, the fact that she was directly responsible for making Chloe sad made her feel even worse.

‘Jesus Christ, get your shit together,’ she told herself harshly. ‘Boohoo, you’ve got a top ten selling album and people are paying to see you sing every two to three days. Cry me a fucking river.’

She shook her head and forced herself to sit upright. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m fine, really.” Chloe’s expression didn’t change and she knew she hadn’t fooled Chloe in the slightest.

“Tell that to the dark circles under your eyes.” Chloe put her elbow on the desk and propped her chin on her hand.

Beca sighed and felt pathetic as she muttered, “Bed’s too bigsmall.” It was the curse of being used to a nine foot bed filled with three other bodies; it was also definitely one of the worst things about being on the road. She’d tried sleeping aids but all they did was make her groggy for a good fifteen hours, no matter how much sleep she’d gotten the night before. She was making do with melatonin but she still tossed and turned. It was getting just that little bit harder to work up the level of energy she needed to maintain for her concert and it wasn’t like she had a full ninety minutes of twirling around a stage like some artists.

‘Seriously, how the hell does P!nk do this shit for over a year?’ Beca wondered for the nth time since she’d left home.

“I know the feeling.” Chloe said softly. “We miss you.”

“I mis-” Beca stopped when there was a soft knock at her door. “God fucking damnit!” She slammed her hand on the desk. “I told them I didn’t want to be disturbed!”

“Beca,” Chloe sat up and leaned forward. “Don’t-”

“No.” Beca said as she glared at the door across the room. “I specifically told Theo I didn’t want to see him tonight. That I needed to get some sleep. He fucking chucked me under the chin and told me ‘You do look a bit knackered. Get some rest.’”

“I know but…” Chloe started with a sigh; Beca had bitched at his audacity at least twice in the hour they’d been talking.

���And… Okay,” Beca kept going, already launched past her tired frustration into actual anger. “Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled ‘what the fuck do you want’ when room service came by –”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Chloe murmured. She’d been witness to it and forced Beca to call down to the desk to both apologize and ask that she be undisturbed for the rest of the night.

“So…” The knock came again. “Sonofabitch.” She stood up so hard the chair almost tipped over.

“Beca!” Chloe said but Beca was already stalking to the door.

“I said,” Beca snarled as she ripped open the door, “I do not want to be dis-…” She blinked three times, sure she was hallucinating. Maybe even having a stroke or something. Maybe she had brain damage. Because Aubrey could not be standing in front of her. In her hotel. In Vienna. Aubrey was at home. Being an amazing lawyer. With Chloe and Stacie.

Except Aubrey was there. Standing in front of her. Wearing faded and ripped blue jeans, a rumpled t-shirt that looked suspiciously like one stolen from Beca’s closet, a leather jacket, her hair in a ponytail and a gym bag slung over her shoulder. And, Beca’s eyes dropped from where she’d been staring into the tired face smiling gently at her, Beca’s Stitch onesie in her hand.

When Beca stood frozen in the doorway, Aubrey gently nudged her backward until she could step into the room and close the door behind her. The second Aubrey dropped the gym bag Beca’s paralysis broke and she threw herself at the blonde, wrapping her arms around Aubrey’s waist. With a soft oof when Beca collided into her, Aubrey cradled her close and tucked Beca’s head under her chin as she stroked her back. Immediately Beca felt warmer than she had since they had landed in Austria a week ago. Aubrey’s warm body relaxed her but it was nothing compared to the warmth of ‘home’ that Aubrey’s scent brought her.

“Baby.” Aubrey whispered.

Beca lifted her head and found Aubrey’s lips already waiting. The soft kiss soothed the last of Beca’s frayed nerves and she felt almost lightheaded as the tension left her. She parted her lips and Aubrey slipped inside, deepening the connection; reassuring more than building the fire that was always banked between them.

When they broke apart, Beca sighed and rested her ear against Aubrey’s heart, listening to the strong comforting beat. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, love.” Aubrey squeezed her again. “Chloe sent me.” Aubrey pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Stacie sent this.” She jiggled the hand holding the onesie.

“Oh shit!” Beca jerked upright. “Chloe’s on Skype!” She stepped back, taking Aubrey’s free hand and tugged her over to the desk where she found Chloe waiting patiently with a happy smile and a single tear running down her face. Sometime in the last few minutes Stacie had appeared behind her, her chin propped on Chloe’s shoulder. “You guys… I…” She went to sit but Aubrey beat her to it then pulled Beca into her lap. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me.”

“Can’t ruin the surprise, B.” Stacie blew a kiss at her. “Plus Chloe tells me that you might need a lawyer anyway because you’re going to kill some innocent hotel staff person for doing their job.”

Beca winced. “Not one of my finer moments.”

“No.” Chloe agreed but smiled to take the sting from it. “But this is still new and strange and while you’ve come a long way from the ‘I don’t even sing’ girl we met years ago, sometimes…”

“Change and I don’t get along.” Beca sighed as Aubrey rubbed her back. “I still can’t believe you stealth sent Aubrey like a cuddle ninja.”

“And now that she’s there,” Chloe looked past Beca. “You’re gonna put our girl to bed so she can stop being a cranky pants about sleeping alone.”

“To be fair,” Aubrey laughed. “I remember you being disgruntled the last time none of us could stay overnight at one of your competitions.”

“I have no memory of this. You must be super jet-lagged.” Chloe said innocently. She stuck out her tongue when Stacie poked her in the side.

“We’ll talk again tomorrow,” Stacie said. “We’re going to hang up on you now. I’ve gotta get back to work, but I came home to see the big reveal when Aubrey texted us she landed.”

Beca checked the clock. It was almost 9pm in Vienna so it was only 1pm back home. “I love you guys.” She reached out and pressed her fingertips to her screen. “Thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day, loves.” Aubrey said, her hand resting over Beca’s on the monitor.

“We love you both.” Chloe smiled gently.

“Maybe now that you’re in good hands, you can sleep.” Stacie paused and Beca knew what was coming. “Or not sleep becauseyou’re in good hands.”

“How long did you take to think that up?” Aubrey asked affectionately.

“Just now.” Stacie shrugged. “I’m good with my mouth.”

“You mean with words.” Chloe half turned to look at her.

“That too.” Stacie shrugged and looked back at the monitor. “It’s killing me to do it, but I really am going to disconnect now.” She smiled gently. “You really do need to get some sleep, Beca. Let Aubrey take care of you. I love both of you.”

“I will.” Beca promised, feeling sleep eagerly tugging at her for the first time in what felt like months. ‘Probably since the last time I was home,’ Beca mused.

“Love you too.” Aubrey said just before Stacie hung up.

They sat there a moment more, Beca having turned sideways to cuddle, before Aubrey’s yawn startled them with its suddenness and volume.

“Oh Bree,” Beca reluctantly stood up and offered a hand. “You must be exhausted. It’s like, what, thirteen hours if you’re lucky to get a direct flight?”

“I may have had dad help me with the arrangements.” Aubrey took her hand and rose to her feet and picked up the onesie she’d draped over the chair. “Plus I got a few hours’ sleep on the plane, but… yeah. Sleeping sounds really good about now.” She held out the outfit. “Stacie says you have to sleep in it since you’ve been cold. She doesn’t want to lose any of your important bits to frostbite. She says, and I quote, ‘I’m too fond of her goodies to risk it.’” She pursed her lips. “Personally I think it’s because of that day you told her it made you feel like she was hugging you.”

Touched at her girls’ thoughtfulness, Beca laughed and took it. “Alright. C’mon, bathroom is over here.”

Aubrey followed her, detouring to grab her bag from beside the door. “This is a pretty nice suite they’ve got you in.”

Beca shrugged one shoulder, still not used to having a multi room suite just for herself. “It’s too much for me. I generally just stick to the bedroom or curl up on the couch when they get me these.” The room was nothing compared to the opulent setup that Khaled had had back on the USO tour, but they generally had a separate bedroom and master bath, a sitting room and sometimes a secondary room that was usually set up like an office. “I feel stupid complaining about it… ungrateful maybe.” She rolled her eyes at herself and voiced her earlier thoughts. “‘Oh boohoo and woe is me. I’m quasi famous and people pay to watch me sing.’”

“But you don’t even sing.” Aubrey flashed a smile at her that Beca couldn’t help but return. “But I can see how it could be lonely,” Aubrey offered as they walked into the bedroom where she set her bag down and began unpacking it. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be with you sooner.”

“Sometimes the band comes up.” Beca shrugged as she watched Aubrey pull out clothes that were still somehow neatly folded even though they had come out of a duffle bag. “Theo and a few of the other brass types make an appearance.” She smiled fondly as Aubrey put her clothes in with Beca’s in various drawers. “We haven’t lit the place on fire yet though, so I don’t know if that counts as a rager by your standards.”

“Pfft.” Aubrey said as she folded the bag and set it on top of the dresser before grabbing her toiletry case.

“You want to shower before bed?” Beca asked as they walked into the bathroom where Aubrey whistled at the size of the walk in shower and the whirlpool bath.

“As heavenly as that tub looks,” Aubrey said wistfully, “I think just want to wash my face, brush my teeth and curl up in that small bed with you.” She opened up her case and began to unpack it just as efficiently as she had the duffle, lining her things next to Beca’s.

Beca chuckled. “Aubrey, that’s a queen sized bed.”

“Right. Small.” Aubrey looked at Beca through the mirror and smiled. “Someone’s gotten me used to something bigger.”

Beca shrugged. “Guilty.” She moved over to the counter, setting her designated pj’s on it. “I must be tired because I know I should be turning that into a super dirty innuendo but I don’t have the energy.”

“I’ll say it tomorrow.” Aubrey offered as she began to wash her face. “Stacie would be disappointed in us both if we let it go.”

“You do love me!” Beca joked as she did the same.

“You’re my moon,” Aubrey said simply after she’d rinsed and Beca felt the threat of tears swelling at the back of her eyes.

“You’re our Earth.” Beca stroked Aubrey’s arm, still partially unable to believe she was actually there.

“Sap.” Aubrey sniffed slightly but Beca could clearly see her own emotions reflected back at her.

They finished cleaning up after the long day, brushing their teeth and hair, before changing into their pj’s: Beca in her Stitch onesie, though she left the hood off, and Aubrey in a pair of sleep pants that looked like ones Chloe had worn in college and… Beca laughed when she realized what Aubrey had pulled on. “Is that my Boob Man hoodie?”

“Maybe.” Aubrey turned off the bathroom light and Beca turned on the lamp beside the bed. For Beca’s 24th birthday, post Fourth of July drunken party videos, Stacie had gotten Beca a hoodie that said “I’m A Boob Man.” Aubrey had put her foot down on including a picture of Beca’s hands on her chest even though Stacie had promised to leave out their faces.

“I wondered where that went.” Beca turned off the main overhead light, watching as Aubrey pulled back the covers and crawled into bed with a grateful sigh. “Should’ve known.”

“Probably.” Aubrey settled into the middle of the bed and looked up expectantly. “Well?”

Beca slid into bed and half curled, half sprawled on Aubrey’s left side. “I still can’t believe you’re here.” She wiggled until she found the right spot and Aubrey’s arms closed around her.

“You needed me.” Aubrey shifted and pulled Beca closer.

“As if it were that simple,” Beca said, thinking of all the planning that had to have happened. Even with General Posen’s help it would’ve cost a pretty penny… though, Beca reminded herself, with the tour sales as well as the album still getting decent numbers, money wasn’t something they had to worry about when things like last minute flights came up.

“It was.” Aubrey’s hand gently stroked her back through the fabric. “You needed us. I was able to come.”

“How long did work let you go for?” Beca asked, not wanting to admit how much she wished Aubrey could stay with her the rest of the tour. She lifted her head when Aubrey hesitated and the smallest bit of tension went through the body under her.

“I…” Aubrey took a deep breath. “I quit.”

“What?” Beca pushed herself up. “You what?”

“Quit.” Aubrey reached up and brushed aside the hair that had fallen into Beca’s eyes. “You know I haven’t been happy there since we got back.”

“Yeah but…” Beca trailed off. “Aubrey, please tell me you did not quit because I’m being a big baby over the fact that I am alone on my tour?” Her brows drew together. ‘Jesus I sound like a spoiled brat.’

“I did not quit because you actually are alone on your first tour since none of us have been able to come with you.” Aubrey met her eyes. “Beca, I haven’t…. Oh I don’t know.” She sighed. “It’s… too routine.”

Beca snorted. “I never expected to hear you say something like that. You’re the Posen with the plan.” Aubrey’s brow arched and Beca said quickly, “Which is important because I never have one and sometimes I need to be kept in line.”

Aubrey’s mouth quirked. “Nice save.”

“Thank you.” Beca watched her, worried. “But to quit?”

“You know when I’ve had the most fun doing deals lately?” Aubrey waited and Beca shook her head. “Negotiating your contract with Khaled’s label. Finalizing the details of your tour.”

“You were kind of amazing at it.” Beca mused.

“It was something new, something other than just getting the most out of an artist for your old label.” Aubrey’s eyes had gone distant but now they focused back on Beca. “And I was wondering if you’d… maybe allow me to be your manager full time.”

“Yes.” Beca said without hesitation. She was currently on her fourth – or was it fifth – manager through the agency recommended by Khaled and she already knew the two of them didn’t mesh and it wasn’t going to last. “I would love you to be my manager, Bree. No one else can boss me around like you can.”

Aubrey laughed. “I don’t think that’s exactly the way it’s supposed to work…”

“Fine, you can boss Theo around for me and keep me from calling him Turtle Man when I get pissed at him.” Beca leaned down and kissed her. “But only if you’re sure.”

“There’s obviously going to be some things we’re going to have to figure out, like… do I need some sort of license or to form a company or…” Aubrey trailed off as she yawned so wide her jaw popped. “But we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“I think you just want to be your own boss.” Beca said as she rolled over to turn off the light before snuggling down again. “But I don’t envy you coming up with a company name.”

“BCS Talent.” The reply was so quick it was like she’d known Beca was going to say it.

“Of course you already have a name. You don’t do anything until you’ve covered all the angles.” Beca laughed and lifted her head again to smile down at her.

“Since you’d be my only client, I pondered ‘Mitchsen Talent.’” Aubrey’s eyes twinkled at her. “But I didn’t want to keep answering questions about why I mashed our names together.”

“Because we mash ourselves together as often as possible.” Beca said, kissing her.

“Yes, but I don’t want to tell strangers that. But this way…” Aubrey stroked her fingers through Beca’s hair. “It’s named after what matters most in my life.”

Beca inhaled deeply through her nose. “I hadn’t… I should’ve… put that together.” She inexplicably felt like crying again, touched beyond all measure at how much thought Aubrey had put into it already.

“Stacie took some convincing. Something about the last time she let me go out of her sight and into another country… But she came around. Chloe took less, once I explained why I wanted to do it.” Aubrey tugged a lock of Beca’s hair. “She has never trusted that your managers had your best interests at heart and not just their own.”

“Probably.” Beca said lightly. “I’ll fire Kas tomorrow.”

“Beca!” Aubrey laughed. “We need to talk first.”

“No, we don’t. You’re my manager and that’s final.” Beca put her head back down on Aubrey’s chest, happier than she could’ve dreamed possible.

“Then as your manager, I’m telling you that we’re going to sit down and talk logistics.” She put her hand over Beca’s mouth as she drew in breath to answer. “Tomorrow. After a giant breakfast that’s going to fill the massive table in the other room.”

Beca nodded and Aubrey slowly removed her hand. “Alright. Whatever you say… manager.” She grinned as Aubrey let out an overly exaggerated sigh. “Bree?”

“Yes, Beca?”

“Thank you for coming to Vienna.” Beca felt Aubrey’s hand on her chin and let her head be tilted up until Aubrey’s lips met hers. When they parted again, she said softly, “You’re not a dream, right?”

“I’ve got you, love.” Aubrey said and kissed her again. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I love you, Aubrey.” Beca kissed her one last time, a lazy comforting stroking of tongues and lips.

“I love you too.” Aubrey’s fingers slipped from her jaw to wrap lightly around the arm across her waist.

Far quicker than she’d gone to sleep since the last time she’d been in their arms in The Expanse, Beca felt herself drawn into slumber, the steady beat of Aubrey’s heart matching her own.

~A~

Aubrey woke to gentle kisses. They were placed delicately at the corner of her mouth, along her jaw, her eyebrow and even her closed eyelid once Beca knew she was awake. She sighed in contentment at the weight resting against her side and the hand drawing designs on her stomach.

“You kept your promise.” Beca said before kissing the tip of Aubrey’s nose.

Aubrey smiled but kept her eyes closed. “A Posen-Conrad always keeps their promises.”

“You guys are good at that.”

Aubrey opened her mouth to answer but Beca’s lips covered hers in a kiss far less chaste than the ones they had exchanged the prior evening. She gave out a happy purr as Beca licked down into her mouth, languid but passionate; unhurried but definitely an indication of how the rest of the morning would go and Aubrey felt desire coiling as the rest of her body woke up.

At least until she opened her eyes, intending to wish Beca what was apparently going to be very good morning and found Beca leaning over her, all sleep tousled and warm…

With the Stitch hoodie pulled up over her head.

Aubrey began to laugh.

Beca propped her head on her right hand, watching as Aubrey fell apart every time she took in the blue ears on top of Beca’s head. Aubrey laughed so loud and so long that she snorted, which caused her to giggle even while she was mortified, but then she’d catch sight of Beca’s patiently waiting face, surrounded by blue fuzzy alien, and she’d lose it all over again. When she’d almost exhausted herself, Beca merely pursed her lips when Aubrey took a peek at her and snickered.

“Aubrey.”

“Yes?” Aubrey let out a giggle, keeping her eyes closed.

“Stacie has made love to me in this onesie.” Beca hadn’t stopped tracing designs on Aubrey’s stomach since the first giggle and now she curved her fingers around Aubrey’s hip. “I don’t see what the problem is.” Her tone was nothing but pure amused affection and despite the fact that she just can’t, Aubrey felt herself melt.

“That’s because you guys are aca-pervs.” Aubrey giggled again, high pitched and borderline hysterical at the image that formed and she knew at some point she and Chloe would have to watch them re-enact that. ‘Would you like to be pot, or kettle?’ she mentally asked herself and snorted again.

“Guess you’ll just have to take it off me.” Beca said silkily in her ear and Aubrey’s laughter tapered off into a moan as Beca’s hand moved up to cover her breast.

“Yes please,” Aubrey breathed as her back arched into her lovers touch.

Beca kissed her. “Let me properly thank you for saving the rest of the team from a very cranky artist.”

“I think, and I mean this from the very bottom of my heart, that the pleasure is about to be mine.” Aubrey’s hands slid over Beca until she found the row of buttons on the onesie. “After I get you out of this and naked.”

Beca smiled at her as Aubrey slowly undid them one by one, humming in anticipation with each inch of skin exposed.

“I love Vienna.”

[starberry-cupcake]

Overall thoughts on Les Mis BBC

I decided, after all those summaries I made, to write what I hope can be a more coherent opinion on what I thought of the adaptation as a whole. I wanted to make sure to state that my critical reactions weren’t for entertainment purposes only or exaggerated for the fun of it but based on real concerns I’ll expand in this post. This is like the “serious companion”, if you will. 

I don’t know if anyone cares about it at this point, but I feel that even though my summaries helped me go through the immediate frustrations in a (mostly) lighthearted way, it’s the distance from having watched it all what gave me a little bit more clarity to order my thoughts. 

I’ve established my opinion isn’t worth a damn, I’m not smart or knowledgeable enough for this fandom and, needless to say, these are all my personal opinions, take them with a grain of salt or a bathtub of it. I’m a worthless nobody and my words have no value, but the internet is still (sort of) free, so here I go.  

Introduction: the initial news, Andrew Davies & the PR mess

BBC announced the adaptations of 2 media phenomenons which started as books that I love so much I’m considering tattoos of both. And, for both of them, my main concerns were on the person adapting the script. 

On the one hand, there’s His Dark Materials, a book series that made me the person I am today, pretty much. One of the directors is none other than Tom Hooper (what are the odds) and the script adaptation was in the hands of Jack Thorne. Cursed Child Jack Thorne. Yeah, not thrilled about that. 

Surprisingly enough, His Dark Materials was given a projection of 3 possible seasons, rather than just one, the 3rd hasn’t been yet confirmed but the fact that the script was made thinking on one season per major book on the series, and that each season has 8 episodes planned, at least gives me a bit of hope, even if the person adapting it isn’t in my favorites list. 

Les Mis, on the other hand, went to the hands of Andrew Davies, another person I don’t trust. 

I’m one of those folk who was never too fond of the ‘95 version of Pride and Prejudice, mainly because of how Darcy was made into a sort of sex symbol, where his flaws were seen as “attractive marks of broody character” rather than vulnerability and with gratuitous sexualizing fanservice. I know a lot of people love it for that and that’s cool, you do you, but it’s not for me. 

Then, when he adapted War and Peace, he talked about adding more sex to it and had the Kuragin siblings shown explicitly sleeping together from the get-go in episode 1 and that’s when I stopped watching (there were other things I didn’t like but that one was my limit). 

To make matters worse, it made me weary that Les Mis was getting an overall amount of only 6 episodes whereas HDM was getting a potential 24-ish. That was an odd choice. 

So, as you can guess, I knew coming in that Davies writing the script, a script with a limited time-frame for the story, was a huge risk. 

But, on the other hand, as the cast was announced, I got excited. Especially for people like Archie Madekwe, Turlough Convery, Erin Kellyman and some famous actors like David Oyelowo. Their filming logs on social media, how nice they all were and how much fun they had filming made me happy. I felt that maybe these great folks could turn around whatever the scrip had to disappoint me. 

But then came all the PR stuff. 

The more I read Davies & co. talking about the show, the less hope I had for it. Talking very badly about the musical and the 2012 movie, calling female characters “not complicated”, insulting Cosette, saying that Javert’s lack of explicit heterosexual sex in the brick was reason enough to push a homosexual narrative centered on an unhealthy behavior, patting themselves on the back for having a diverse cast as if no other adaptation of Les Mis had ever done it before...even their talks about Fantine’s make up made me weary. And, let’s not forget their ridiculous insistence on not having songs. 

By the time the show premiered, my hopes had dwindled. The excitement I had upon knowing there would be another Les Mis adaptation so soon, a BBC one at that, and with a cast I had hopes for, was blurred by all the nonsense of PR and I was more afraid than hopeful. 

In the end, after having watched it completely, and as you can see for my summaries, I was heavily disappointed. I’ll try to list some of my biggest concerns, in no particular order. 

I can’t be super extensive about it, because there are a lot of points to go over, but there are a lot of amazing opinion pieces out there about specific issues, so you don’t need me for that. 

Anyway, let’s delve into some of my biggest problems with BBC Les Mis.

Problem #1: The portrayal of femininity

Solely by the fact that Davies stated that women on Les Mis “are not terribly complicated” you know that things are not going to go all too well on that front. 

I’m going to pick 3 characters to showcase how badly women were portrayed in this: Fantine, Cosette and Éponine. I’ll leave other characters for another section. 

1. Fantine

I’ve talked about Fantine before, upon receiving some questions on my summaries, but I’ll try to explain it all in a more understandable way. 

The lens in which Fantine was seen was sexist from the get-go. The way in which the story was framed made the audience complicit in the choices she was making, choices that were negatively regarded by the narrative perspective alone. Her “fall to disgrace” was framed as her own decisions being incorrect, silly mistakes that were easily avoidable, and never regarded as the result of living in a society that was unable to contain her and see her as a valid human being. But we’ll get to that when we talk about the politics (or lack thereof) on this show. 

Like I said in my response before, the way in which Fantine is portrayed, even in the musical itself, varies greatly performance to performance. Patti LuPone performing I Dreamed a Dream after Fantine gets dismissed isn’t like Anne Hathaway performing it after she has become a prostitute and neither carry the same implications as Allison Blackwell in the Liesl Tommy’s Dallas modern production, influenced by her experience in apartheid South Africa. 

Still, the key element to developing Fantine’s portrayal, when it comes to sexism and the showcasing of her environment, has two layers: the actual oppression showcased in the source material and the contemporary interpretation or lens in which an adaptation will view it. 

In this version, Fantine’s character was toned down in her attitude. She was less reactive than in the brick, a lot more passive, a lot more of a tragic figure, which paired up with the fact that this adaptation covered her entire “fall to ruin”, from meeting Tholomyès onward, made her a victim of everything that happened to her. 

A victim of her own bad decisions, though, not of a social context that was failing her. 

But the worst part is in how the focus of the show is placed. You can have Fantine being a summarized version of herself, with less spunk, and still showcase through her that the circumstances she was in were permeated by an escalating force of social disadvantage and oppression. 

This adaptation made, like I said, the audience complicit in Fantine’s decisions as if she was a princess in a movie, unaware of the threats she was getting herself into by her own naive foolishness. 

Tholomyès is blatantly shady, clearly dishonest, not at all charming or in any way trustworthy and Fantine gets a “voice of reason” on a friend who tells her various times that he will eventually leave. There are a lot of red flags, blatant for the audience, that Fantine chooses to dismiss. The show focuses less on why Fantine trusted Tholomyès and more on her making a clear bad choice we all knew was doomed from the start. 

This becomes a problem once again when she chooses to leave Cosette with the Thénardiers. They are very clearly shady, very blatantly aggressive and ready to take advantage of her, visibly manhandling Cosette in front of her and asking for more money on the spot, and Fantine again naively ignores all of this. 

They do it again when she enters employment in Montreuil. She talks to Valjean himself in this version, and is asked repeatedly and with kindness if she has a family. The scene makes it seem as if she could have easily told the truth, especially because we were previously given a scene in which Fantine hears a speech talking about how Valjean is the Best Person Ever and could potentially help her. Still, she chooses to repeatedly lie and the show makes it seem less for necessity and more for a sense of pride of some sort. 

(Also, as a foreshadowing of creepy Valjean to come, there are some insinuations from her co-workers that she could seduce Valjean, which is confusingly placed and awkwardly added where it is.)

Then, after she’s dismissed, there’s a man in a post office who asks her, after receiving letters from the Thénardiers (to which she reacts a lot more passively than in the brick), why she doesn’t bring Cosette to live with her, in a condescending tone, as if he was stating the obvious. Fantine responds again as if she was doing it out of pride. The same man is the one to suggest her to start selling her body and then tell her she should have done it before selling her hair and teeth because “nobody would pay for her after that”. 

Every turn we’re met with ways in which Fantine’s decisions are seen as foolish in the eyes of the viewer. It’s like Blue’s Clues or Dora the Explorer when they ask stuff to the audience for the kids to say they shouldn’t do something. It’s patronizing as fuck, is what it is. And, yes, sexist. 

These narrative choices are sexist because they erase most of the social and political situation which made Fantine vulnerable in the first place, to push the tragic drama as if she was a victim of being “too naive”. It’s sexist because it makes the audience know from the get go that what Fantine is doing is a “bad choice”, easily avoidable mistakes that whoever writes is smart enough to sense are bad but poor naive Fantine can’t understand. 

It isn’t just that she’s called a whore a lot of times, that she’s smashed against walls and the ground hard enough that Lily Collins was actually hurt, that she’s shown explicitly being used by a patron on the street. It’s that all of it is done with the added layer of her having “chosen wrong”. That everything is framed as the consequences of actions that the narrative voice, as well as the audience, are smart enough to know are wrong, but poor little Fantine can’t handle.

Like many things in this adaptation we’ll see later, Fantine’s journey is framed more like the tragic end of a woman who didn’t know how to choose right and was punished for said choices rather than the result of an unfair society which didn’t allow women any freedom to choose and didn’t see them as worthy human beings. 

2. Cosette

When Andrew Davies called Cosette a “pretty nauseating character” in need of change, I knew I was up against one of those people. 

Cosette is probably one of the most underestimated female characters in literature, and adaptations tend to do her dirty very often. I’m not even fond of her interpretation in the musical all that much, which goes in tow with the interpretation of Éponine. I’ve seen my fair share of men on youtube claiming Gavroche should be the face of Les Mis rather than Cosette, I’ve received my fair amount of messages claiming she’s The Worst, I’ve seen it all. 

This adaptation does with Cosette something that, out of context, I would have thought impossible. They manage to somehow attempt to make her more “active” (they would call it “strong” but I have problems with that denomination) while making her even more of a helpless victim. It’s a pretty impressive oxymoron. 

Let’s begin with little Cosette. 

This adaptation does something very weird in that it only showcases Cosette’s storyline as a child when it serves other characters, but then intends to build upon the abuse by mentioning it or making it clear that adult Cosette remembers it well. 

So we see Cosette when she’s important to Fantine’s storyline, the Thénardiers’s storyline or Valjean’s storyline, but not much about her on her own, aside from one time she’s looking at dolls and another time when she’s being beaten up by Madame Thénardier, which could be also a moment for the Thénardiers and not solely for Cosette’s narrative. 

What I mean with this is that the view on her is reduced to a side character rather than a main one and, with that, her perspective on her own abuse isn’t taken into account. You don’t know how Cosette feels about things, you don’t see her perspective on it, you only see what others do to her but never get to see her side of it. For all the musical erases of her narrative, at least they give her Castle on a Cloud. 

It’s with little Cosette where we start to see this weird sense of sexually charged perception towards her relationship with Valjean. 

For some inexplicable and highly alarming reason, it’s implied by various witnesses in different occasions that Valjean’s intentions with Cosette may be inappropriate, and I would have let it slide as just people thinking The Worst out of living in a social context in which The Worst is most often the truth, hadn’t that perception carried throughout the series and mixed with Valjean’s erratic and possessive characterization. 

When Cosette grows up, she gains a bit more focus, but she also starts to be charged a lot more sexually. 

Both Cosette and Éponine are sexualized and objectivized in this adaptation. This will be addressed later, but most often than not this sexualization acts as an accessory to a narrative about masculinity. 

Cosette’s virtue, beauty and body are talked about and even exposed in various moments. They tell her she can’t be a nun because that would be “a waste of her beauty”. In that dreadful scene in the dress shop I talked about in summary 4, the shop assistant again implies that Cosette is Valjean’s lover and lets him see her in undergarments through the curtain, with clear intentions. Valjean’s erratic persona is intent on separating her from Marius, explicitly telling her he’s worried that she will be taken advantage of by men, bringing up Fantine’s history to her with that in mind, while putting her in danger and in the company of the Thénardiers again, in more than one occasion. 

Adult Cosette has visible signs of the trauma she suffered, which is an interesting direction to go. I haven’t seen an adaptation taking such a big route on her remembering her past abuse, and is a change that worked in performance, Ellie did some great visible responses like covering herself when Valjean wakes her up or going fight or flight every time she sees Thénardier. She is visibly upset when Marius gives him money and looks both angry yet still hesitant when she sees the man for the last time. 

But all that kind of loses its importance when the men around her not only don’t give a shit but also do their worst. 

Valjean manhandles her, harms her even, pushes her to the limits of her emotional state by taking her to see the prisoners intentionally after she mentioned prison, acting more possessive than caring and more erratically violent than conflicted and concerned. 

Marius has a somewhat wet dream about her and then again dreams with her in confusing ways when he’s out of the barricade, with his grandfather talking about her as if she’s a piece of meat even after he meets her and she’s right in front of him. 

They tried to make Cosette more aggressive, I think, more reactive, which in some moments worked. But when the lens in which she’s viewed is objectivizing, when she’s being commented on, offered and treated as an object, then it isn’t enough. It makes it worse, actually. 

I’m sorry for Ellie, though, she did good. 

3. Éponine

Much like Cosette, Éponine’s childhood was all but a few cameos. It’s very often that adaptations try to “tone down” Éponine in order to pull a narrative of her as an underdog in a love triangle, the “friendzoned” girl who tragically dies. The musical does that, for example. 

Some of Éponine’s most controversial actions in the brick tend to be most often deleted or changed, except for adaptations in which she’s an “enemy” to Cosette’s narrative of a classic heroine. 

It isn’t easy to find adaptations that are able to make Éponine showcase the complexity of her canon character not as a problem but as what makes her character so good and important in the overall story. Hey, even fandom sometimes tends to romanticize Éponine as if she had to be “redeemed” in order to be seen as a worthy character (but that happens a lot with female characters in general). 

Éponine doesn’t exist for Marius’s narrative, as the other girl in a love triangle, or for Cosette’s narrative, as an enemy, she’s her own character with her own reason for existing and complex human dynamics that are extremely permeated by the social circumstances she’s immersed in and represents. 

I’d say this adaptation is on the group that uses her for Marius’s storyline.

Added to that, it’s one of the worst I’ve seen on that case, because in this one, Marius is complicit of Éponine’s intentions, which are sexualized to a degree I don’t feel comfortable with. 

We’ll talk a bit more about the Marius side of things later, but for Éponine, it meant she was reduced to a character that exists to sexually awaken Marius rather than a tragic figure on her own or even a piece of a love triangle. So, basically, this is the worst I’ve seen in a while. 

This is clearly seen in that interview when Davies explained why he added that “wet dream” scene, saying:

“One of the best things Hugo does is to have Eponine tease Marius with her sexiness because he is a bit of a prig. So I have introduced a scene where Marius, even though he is in love with Cosette, has a wet dream about Eponine and feels rather guilty about it. I think it fits into the psychology of the book.” Source

Let’s leave out the part where he considers that to be “one of the best things Hugo does” because I cannot deal with that right now. Let’s focus on the other bit.

Like this quote suggests and I said before, Éponine was rather reduced to a tool for Marius’s sexual awakening. In this version, it isn’t only the “wet dream” which precedes more crucial interactions between Marius and Éponine, there’s also a scene where she strips for him through the hole in the wall and another where Courfeyrac is commenting on her and Azelma as Marius moves into the building for the first time. 

By the time Marius gives her his money and any sort of bond can occur, it’s evidently clear in this version that Éponine has been teasing Marius and he is fully aware of it. He looks at her through the peep hole licking his lips and then has that disturbing dream where she’s kind of forcing him onto her in a very questionable way. 

So, this Marius is by no means unaware of the fact that Éponine was attracted to him in some capacity and has played along her seduction, which makes his dismissal of her and his request for her to find Cosette a lot like he is using her for his own gain and replacing her for another girl. 

Éponine’s attitude, much like Cosette’s, tries to be more active at times. She’s confrontational to her parents, seems protective of Azelma and is pleased to see her mother stuck in jail. 

However, much like with Cosette, any kind of agency is compromised for having her narrative be serving a male character’s development rather than her own. Her involvement in the barricade is also somewhat modified but, by that time, her journey has already been substantially affected. 

Much like Ellie, Erin was a very good Éponine when she was allowed to perform at her best and I wish she had been involved in an adaptation that was able to portray Éponine with more justice. 

I’ll talk a bit more about women on the show in general in problem #3 but, for now, let’s move on. 

Problem #2: The portrayal of masculinity

1. Javert

I am not the best person to write an essay on Javert, there are a lot of people more capable than me for that, and I may be called out for this and mess everything up, but I can’t write overall opinions without mentioning my issues with his characterization, at least summarized. 

Javert is a complicated character. He is, as much as everyone else, affected by the circumstances and a man who goes through a huge emotional impact and sees his values questioned and compromised. His and Valjean’s journeys have a lot in common, in different ways and with different outcomes. 

Sadly, Javert tends to be seen as a villain in a lot of adaptations. It’s a way to simplify the plot in the way movies tend to do: something is defined by what the other isn’t, if Valjean is the protagonist, then Javert must be his antagonist. I was worried that this version was going to fall into that trap, because of time restraint and Davies’s tendencies of simplifying complex characters. 

Javert’s characterization was erratic, much like Valjean’s. His attitude was blurred by fits of rage and moments of confusing violence, followed by charged pauses in strange cadences which tended to fluctuate. I don’t think his attitude was as all-over-the-place as Valjean’s, but it was certainly not as well defined as other Javerts I’ve seen through the years. 

This Javert, however, had a choice made for him that separates him from other versions: 

Over tea in central London, Davies tells me that he was surprised to discover that, in Hugo’s 1862 novel, neither character [Javert or Valjean] mentions any sort of sexual experience, leaving the 82-year-old screenwriter wondering, at least in the case of Javert, whether it was indicative of a latent homosexuality. Source 

There is a lot to unpack there. 

First, there’s this idea of masculinity in which the lack of explicit heterosexual intercourse in canon is directly representative of homosexuality. I’m not gonna delve a lot in the brick but there are a good bunch of characters you can easily read as gay. Hell, there’s that whole thing going on with comparing Enjolras and Grantaire to greek couples. And if you want to write Javert as gay, go ahead, there’s a lot of fanfiction out there who is with you on that and I’m here for all interpretations, no problem at all.   

But if you’re going to take that route, you need to be careful with your optics. 

This Javert is, at the end of the day, in this adaptation, a gay man of color. He is also explicitly obsessed with Valjean in a way that exceeds his sense of justice. He looks at him undress in prison, is all over his personal space while he’s in chains and later interrogates him believing Marius is his lover, clearly attempting Valjean to confess to him if he was. He receives a lot of comments from an officer who touches him and looks at him strangely in the last episode, prompting an immediate rejection from him. 

Everything points to Javert’s homosexuality being in the plot only as a further motivator for his need to capture Valjean, which makes for both a problematic portrayal of predatory homosexuality and a subsequent narrative of police abuse, both very problematic aspects to portray through a gay man of color. The way he acts and the way in which people act around him make it seem like his obsession with capturing him is fueled by the fact that Valjean represents his closeted feelings and that is all kinds of messed up. 

He is also clearly not as involved in other aspects of the law as he is in capturing Valjean, since Thénardier ends up being a secondary worry to him, even explicitly knowing he has been mistreating and abusing a child, and he also explicitly doesn’t care about his achievements or the ones of his other officers as long as Valjean is on the loose. He lets Thénardier escape prison on his watch and doesn’t take care of it himself, prioritizing Valjean. 

It isn’t about what happens in canon or not but in how all of this, in this version, is framed under this idea that Javert is also gay and has an obsession with Valjean that seems predatory in part, rather than fueled by his beliefs. And that is a dangerous optic to write a gay character under. Especially a police officer who is also a man of color. 

I’m not the one to talk about that, it’s not my experience to tell and I’m not going to speak over those whose experience this is, but as a content creator, I’d question if my need to diversify is stepping over the lines of problematic aspects that may ill represent the identities I’m trying to integrate. Just saying.

David’s performance hits some very good moments, especially when Javert starts contemplating suicide. That is a very important scene in every adaptation and a very amazing chapter in canon and David does well in performing the turmoil in Javert’s decision. They also add, as a voice in off, the notes he left to improve the service, which is a great touch. 

But, much like the other characters I mentioned, his performance is blurred by these writing choices in which Javert has been added this sort of predatory sense in which Valjean in jail symbolizes also keeping his identity hidden away. Davies would probably say his “desires” because that’s the kind of guy he is. 

I hope my opinion isn’t overstepping anyone’s voice and I’ll leave the further of this discussion to someone more appropriate, but I felt it was an important matter to include and something we all, as media consumers, must pay attention to. 

2. Marius

I had higher hopes for this boy, I really did. 

The good thing this adaptation does for Marius is give him a bit more room than others do. They touch more on his relationship with his father and his grandfather, they bring up the Thénardier connection to his dad, they introduce Mabeuf, and they bring him on as a kid in the beginning, which even though questionable in comparison to him having more development as a child than Cosette and Éponine, at least helped to introduce him as another key character of the whole story. 

I had hopes that this earlier introduction, albeit unfairly unbalanced with Cosette’s and Éponine’s, would allow for his character to develop more strongly, especially since politics were very present in his conversations with his grandfather and the ideals of his dad. I thought that by introducing politics through Marius that would allow his connection to Les Amis de l’ABC be more profound when the moment for revolution came. 

Yeah, no, that didn’t happen. 

Les Mis is a book where people are the heart and soul of it. With that in mind, characters aren’t like each other, they aren’t repetitions of the other’s attitude, they are diverse reflections of the complexity of humanity. The portrayal of masculinity in characters like Javert, Valjean, Gavroche or each individual member of Les Amis aren’t the same between each other, and neither are the same as Marius’s. 

Marius represents a very wide emotional spectrum. He’s sensitive and vulnerable, passionate and driven, but at the same time can take action into his own hands when he has to and fight, even at the cost of his own life. There are layers in Marius. Like a Rogel cake. 

I don’t want to generalize but a problem I have often with older male writers is that they see emotional complexity as weakness, especially when it comes to the portrayal of masculinity. There’s this idea in which something that is undefined or conflicting isn’t “strong” enough and therefore requires forcing. 

Remember that quote I brought up for Éponine’s characterization? we’re going back to that. To Davies calling Marius “a prig” in need of being seduced. 

Like I said, this version made Marius complicit in Éponine’s advances and aware of her sexually charged intentions, and this was made in an attempt to “upgrade” Marius’s masculinity and make him “less of a prig”. Because in order to be a Man, Marius needs to objectivize women. Apparently.  

Like I mentioned, the gesture of Marius giving Éponine the little money he had ended up being a lot less effective by the fact that he had already fantasized about her more than once, and with her knowing that. He is taken to a brothel by Courfeyrac and Grantaire in which women pretty much throw themselves at him while he looks for Cosette. The “wet dream” he has is a very eerie combination of idealization and assault, in which Éponine, taking Cosette’s place, forces him onto her (much like Davies is forcing this onto Marius).

It isn’t about sex or eroticism being introduced to Marius’s storyline, is that they appear forced and almost violently thrust upon him in order to validate him in this idea of masculinity the adaptation seems to have, which seems to be very narrow. 

And, with that in mind, we’ll move on to the last bit of this section.

3. Valjean

I am unable to write a piece about how many layers of wrong this Valjean embodied. 

There are a lot of good tumblr scholars and Les Mis experts talking about it already, they can explain better than I ever could, but we need to, at least, try to glimpse at the mess this was, because this is a post on problems and this was a major one. 

There are a lot of interpretations of Valjean, some of which are astronomically awful. He’s a character that can be easily fucked up, maybe because he also represents a very complex range of emotions, a very wide spectrum of masculinity, and is inserted in a wide variety of social contexts and spheres during his lifetime, which permeate his way of living as well as his agency to do things. 

Any adaptation of Les Mis from the get go starts with the challenge of representing all of this in a limited time frame and with a limited perspective. It’s very difficult to translate not only all of this complexity but also all the thoughts the narrator can rely, all the feelings and conflicts and internal turmoil that we can get from the book because it’s written. 

The musical, in that sense, has some elements from its medium that help, like the soliloquies, the changes of key, the ability for characters to bear their souls through song without interrupting the believability of the story. 

Representing Valjean without a medium that allows a peek inside his head is a big challenge. He is a character whose turmoil is most often interior, so showcasing that externally poses difficulty. 

Still, you can’t fuck up this much, my dude.  

I’ve seen bad Valjeans in my life, this one is...complicated. He’s not good, don’t get me wrong, but he isn’t as clear-cut godawful as others I’ve seen, he’s too erratic to be easily described. 

I think this adaptation tried to showcase complexity through visible emotional distress and physical violence. Instead of having a soliloquy or symbolism, we have Valjean shouting or screaming or burning his hand with a coin and staring at it for a while or shouting at nuns or carrying Cosette by force so hard her arm is in pain. 

Everything gets even more confusing when everyone around him treats him weirdly. 

You get years of exposition clumsily thrown at you via a speech Fantine hears when she arrives at Montreuil and he’s been elected. You get girls looking at him naughtily and suggesting Fantine to try to seduce him. You get inkeepers and Thénardier suggesting his intentions with child Cosette aren’t appropriate. You get women in dress shops thinking his intentions with young adult Cosette aren’t appropriate. You get Javert thinking his intentions with Marius aren’t appropriate. Everyone wants to talk about Valjean’s sex life or something, I don’t know. 

His attitude towards Cosette is also muddled by this erratic behavior and the very strange way in which he sees her and Fantine. 

He is visibly more worried about men taking advantage of her, of “defiling” her, than other dangers she could be in, like his identity being found out by the police or her falling in the hands of the Thénardiers again. He forcibly removes her from Marius’s presence and has a fight with her about it that ends on him taking her to see the prisoners. He knows she still, as an adult, visibly flinches when she’s approached harshly yet manhandles her when he wants to keep her locked up. 

There’s something possessive about this Valjean that ties in to how Cosette is portrayed as an object. He talks about Cosette as if she was something he needs to keep, says Marius will “rob” her, not because he wants to be a good father or see her happy but because she is his to have. 

This Valjean feels as if Cosette was his attempt to get rid of the guilt he feels for having failed Fantine more so than anything else. She’s less of a person and more an object he needs to keep for himself like a third candlestick. That’s the impression I got of their relationship with his characterization. 

By the time the series ended, I felt upset with Valjean. 

I didn’t care if he died, I didn’t care if he suffered. And that’s pretty shitty for a Les Mis adaptation to prompt. He made me feel uncomfortable, uneasy, as if he was the last person I would trust to take care of a young girl. And whatever internal journey he was going on wasn’t developed well enough to understand any of these choices. 

I don’t know, like I said, I’m not an expert of the subject of Jean Valjean, but I’m pretty sure this is not how you adapt him. 

Problem #3: Diversity without optics

This show hadn’t even started and it was already patting itself on the back for being diverse. 

Now, if you haven’t been in the world of Les Mis for too long, let me tell you there are a lot of adaptations which are diverse, and not only of the musical. In itself, it wasn’t a pioneer move, but I was nonetheless happy that they were going to pay attention to that. At the end of the day, Les Mis is about society, about oppression, and adaptations of it should represent the diversity of the social landscape of the time and place they’re created in. 

That being said, diversity in a highly political storyline needs to be carefully worked through, because without optics you can make questionable choices. And, you guessed it, questionable choices were made here. 

I can’t and won’t go over all of the issues with this that there are, but I can give a few examples. 

There is, of course, the always present argument of casting Fantine and Cosette white and the majority of the Thénardiers and Éponine as poc. And of casting the majority of Les Amis as white and the majority or most visible part of Patron Minette as poc. People have discussed this at length so I won’t go over that. 

There is also how constantly woc were cast in roles of service, some of which were questionable given the context. Simplice, for example, is cast this way, which I overlooked at the time but as it kept escalating with other characters like Matelote and eventually Toussaint, it grew a bit more complex. 

Toussaint was...a very problematic choice. 

When you present the character of a “housekeeper” in a period series which is meant to represent France in the 1800s, and she is a woman of color, some alarms start ringing. I don’t specialize in French history, but my instincts were proven correct when I checked various sources on dates, after seeing the episode, and I’m quoting wiki for easier access here: 

Slavery was first abolished by the French Republic in 1794, but Napoleon revoked that decree in 1802. In 1815, the Republic abolished the slave trade but the decree did not come into effect until 1826. France re-abolished slavery in her colonies in 1848 with a general and unconditional emancipation.

This series has a weirdly set timeline in comparison to the book but, for all intents and purposes, we’re in the early 1830s at the time she’s first introduced, correct? There was still an unstable situation regarding abolition at the time. The general emancipation hadn’t been yet stated in the colonies and the decree had just been starting to hold effect. 

I know this show is casting in a general way as a suspension of disbelief of some historical facts and I’m all for diversity in casting in period dramas, regardless of anything else, if it’s allowing for representation in media. 

But, at the same time, you need to be careful with your optics. She could have been cast as anyone else.

I don’t wanna go over this a lot because I don’t know enough about these parts of French history nor is it my story to tell, but the problem is in the erasure of conflicts or racism altogether as a way to prompt a shallow sense of diversity in a story that is directly linked with the subject of oppression. 

Let’s continue with another similar optics problem involving “diversity” to exemplify this issue further, so that I can clarify. 

This barricade had women on it and didn’t have Combeferre. 

Now, here is the thing about that. In the barricade my man Combeferre gives an amazing speech about women and children. 

In case you weren’t aware, the 1800s were the moment when European women and children barely started to be seen as separate members of society and not only “men but worse” and “men but small”. There are a lot of good articles about that, including one by Martyn Lyons about the new readers of the 19th Century, which changed the course of the editorial market, those being women, children and working class men, who didn’t have access to literature or literacy before that. The idea of childhood as we know it started then, and the later editions of the Grimm fairy tales was one of the first published books of fairy tales explicitly aimed at children’s education. And since a lot of us, in other places of the world that aren’t Europe, were colonized af or barely getting free from colonial governments in the 1800s, we kinda had to go with the flow, regardless of the social structure of native peoples, because colonialism sucks. 

But you all came here for Les Mis so, let’s get back to that. 

As this terrible and summarized dive into history implies, women and children were vulnerable to the fucked up state of social strife. Education was scarce and only accessible to some, employment was scarce and only accessible to some, food was scarce and only accessible to some. Most often than not, “some” did not include women and children. 

In comes the the sun to my moon, Combeferre, with his speech. 

He talks about all of this. Basically he talks to men who are the main providers of families, providers of women and children who depend on them and goes (I’ll paraphrase) “it’s our fault as a society that women can’t be here now, it’s our fault they don’t have the same possibilities and education we do, so at least do them a solid and don’t die today here if they depend on you to live, because the only possibility they have without your support is prostitution”. It was a fucking power move to include that on Les Mis. I mean, the entire book is a call out to the social and political situation, but damn. 

So yes, there aren’t women there but the reason for it is that patriarchy sucks and the consequences would be disastrous for them. 

Davies & co. pretty much didn’t give a shit about this. But, at this point, considering Problem #1, who’s surprised. 

They removed Combeferre, his speech and placed random women on the barricade, as if nothing of that was going on and the patriarchy didn’t exist. Because ~diversity~. 

The fact that they thought more woke to put some random women there on the barricade to die fighting instead of acknowledging the existence of sexism altogether pretty much sums up what this whole show thought diversity was. 

For them, diversity wasn’t a political and social standpoint born from reality, a way to represent the dynamics of oppression that are at stake even on this day, but an aesthetic. 

And, talking about speeches, let’s move on to the next bit. 

Problem #4: Where are the politics?

1. The social and political landscape

Les Mis adaptations have a fluctuating balance with politics and social conflicts. 

That is, at the end of the day, the very core of the existence of this story, the reason why still, to this very day, it is relevant and quoted, adapted and regarded is the fact that we still need it. 

All of us, as human beings living as members of society, are always immersed in political decisions. It’s not only unavoidable, it’s part of our lives as people living together. 

In the same way, the personal narratives of the characters of Les Mis are intrinsically linked to this landscape. They are set in different places of the social spectrum and hold different power dynamics and actions that relate to political standpoints. 

Adaptations tend to work this in very different ways. 

Some focus less on the politics and more on the social strife, with a greater focus on the characters. Others re-insert the characters in other different historical moments with the same levels of social and political strife. Others just copy-paste the situations and put them in another context, without really explaining what revolution it is, what they’re fighting for and why they’re being killed. The focus varies. 

It seems, for how this adaptation starts, with Waterloo and a subsequent argument between Gillenormand and Baron Pontmercy about Napoleon, that politics are going to be important. This doesn’t last very long. 

My biggest issue with the introduction of these circumstances is that they don’t bother on them but then attempt to use them for gratuitous self righteousness. It isn’t that they abandon them altogether, they overlook them but then attempt to use them for shock value. 

There is a constant use of exaggerated, almost cartoon-y, stagings of social depiction: 

- You have Gillenormand dining with his boys, in a luxurious and incredibly flamboyant scenery, while dissing political views in an almost comical fashion 

- You have beggars downright assaulting Valjean and Cosette on the street right outside the convent, as a means of shock to Cosette’s expectations of the world outside of it

- You have Fantine’s entire sequences as a prostitute with higher and higher degrees of abuse 

- You have the streets before the barricades, in some sort of confusing clamor that loses focus in favor of Valjean’s storyline 

- You have a god awful last scene which attempts to say something socially compromising by showcasing the kids Gavroche was helping (I don’t think they’re siblings in this version), as a means to say “the revolution wasn’t successful and social strife will always continue” I guess, I don’t know, because it’s not like they gave a shit about it all before, so this kind of Perrault-ish moral of the story at the end makes no goddamn sense

They are exaggerated snippets of things without context, with very little exposition, that are used more as props to shock than they are to actually take a stand on what the original story is trying to tell. 

Even the reality Fantine has to suffer is blurred by the fact that the social situation isn’t seen as much as a reality in itself but a combination of Fantine’s��“choices” and Valjean’s “guilt”. 

But, in order to delve more into the non-political aspect of this adaptation, let’s focus on some specific characters. 

2. Enjolras

Well, I’ve seen a lot of Enjolrai in my life (is that be the plural of Enjolras? yes? no? can it be?). 

Enjolras has very different characterizations, even within fandom itself, but we can all agree that he’s a) highly political, b) highly committed to the cause and c) extremely charismatic. 

And when I say “charismatic” I mean it in the sense that his speeches are so beautifully crafted, so certain and commanding, that you just wanna listen to what he has to say, regardless of your views. They’re political discourse but also very poetic, which is a very interesting literary opposite to Grantaire’s voice, but I digress. 

Still, Enjolras doesn’t stand on his own. 

He represents a part of a whole, an important part, but a part nonetheless. Les Amis are a very diverse mixture of individuals, and the main triumvirate represents different stances on the same political action that coexist together. 

Without others to stand with, Enjolras loses context. Not because he can’t support himself as a character, but because his biggest value is within other people. 

This Enjolras is confusing, angry and loses a lot of steam when most of the people who should be around him aren’t really paying attention. 

Courfeyrac, although performed really well, doesn’t really get a chance to show his political ideas without Enjolras around, and that makes it seem like he’s being convinced to participate rather than doing it for his own reasons and being one key part of the group. 

In the barricade, Enjolras acts as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time, and the other half he doesn’t give a shit about killing soldiers, smiling and laughing while shooting people. 

It isn’t just that the scene with Le Cabuc doesn’t exist, Enjolras doesn’t seem to have empathy, which is all given to Grantaire instead. 

By taking away Enjolras’s vulnerability, his complexity, they make him seem more shallow overall, and in tow, make his cause lose importance. 

And without a clear political standpoint, because his expositions about the situation are very shout-y and unclear, and his speeches are summarized with some actual quotes but without their meaning and true feeling, he seems to be fighting just because, rather than having strong ideals. 

Enjolras in the brick is eloquent enough, humane enough, that you understand what he’s doing and why. This Enjolras is a mess that I couldn’t understand at all. 

I don’t think people who have never seen, read or heard of Les Mis before will understand Enjolras as a character through this. He’s just a very angry student with weird facial hair (why?) who rants in a cafe while his friends are playing games and making jokes, who is friends with some workers and is the leader because he shouts the loudest but doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. 

And, worst of all, doesn’t seem to care for human life. Which brings me to the next bit...

3. Grantaire

Man, was I excited with this casting choice. 

When I heard Turlough was playing Grantaire, I was delighted. And, at the end of the day, his performance was very good, but for a character who wasn’t quite Grantaire at times. 

I mean, he wasn’t as off as Enjolras, but he was also so erratically written. 

They decided to make Grantaire hesitant rather than a cynic. He didn’t get to express his cynicism or his attachment to his friends (what friends though? only Bossuet had a name other than Courfeyrac and Enjolras) and his involvement with the fight was shown as insecure rather than questioning of ideals. 

He is shown conflicted when he decides to fight with them, he doesn’t have any of his long speeches, the Barrière du Maine scene or anything of the sort. He is just...hesitant about death, I guess. About dying and killing people. That’s his conflict. 

This has, to me, two big problems attached to it. 

First, it’s a simplification of the entirety of Grantaire’s thoughts. It’s taking the cornucopia of drunken philosophy that Grantaire’s voice in the brick represents and replacing it with a single fear, which while very valid doesn’t reflect Grantaire’s true extensive complexities. 

Second, it takes away from Enjolras’s humanity. Enjolras is showcased as an indiscriminate machine of shooting soldiers while Grantaire is conflicted about having to do this and, in tow, makes Enjolras’s rejection of him when he leaves and gets drunk like a jerk move of an insensitive asshole. 

There isn’t a clear instance of Enjolras giving Grantaire a chance to do something before the barricade and Grantaire failing at it, with all the dominoes symbolism and all the stuff it implies. There isn’t a complementary set of complexities between each other. Grantaire seems to care about human life more than Enjolras does in this version, at the end of the day, because Enjolras’s speeches, even if carrying canon quotes, are inserted in a context in which he laughs while shooting people, knowingly sends Gavroche into danger and chastises Grantaire for being conflicted about human lives at stake.  

So, instead of representing Grantaire’s true complexity as a character, they chose to give him something else that they think makes him more dimensional, when, in reality, takes away from his (and Enjolras’s) worth as a character. 

All of this is very weirdly intersected with drunken jokes. Sometimes, the jokes and the behavior pays off and is inserted in good moments, sometimes they just don’t know when to stop and they kind of ruin their death scene with them, which is even worse considering it’s one of the few where they’re actually holding hands. 

Overall, I think this was a simplification of Grantaire, in a way, a simplification which falls apart without a solid context to exist in. And it’s a pity, because Turlough was good. 

4. Gavroche 

The only reason I’d want an immediate new adaptation of Les Mis is so we can cast this same Gavroche in a decent one. He’s one of the best Gavroches I’ve ever seen, hands down. 

In this case, the problem isn’t with his interpretation or how he was written, necessarily, and all time frame and socio-political simplifications aside, the problem is in how the context reacts to him. 

A lot of Gavroche’s agency is deleted in this version. 

For starters, his age is kind of all over the place at the beginning. He’s fine by the time of the barricade, but before it’s kind of a mess. As a result, he lives with his parents for a bit longer than necessary and the few times we see him on his own, being his independent self, are in conflict with how his involvement in the main events come to happen. 

It feels as if he’s been used in the barricade. When he’s off to find bullets, only Marius tries to get him back to safety, while the rest cheer him and laugh. 

His character is well performed and we get to see his personality and his situation when he’s allowed to act on his own, but within the context he’s inserted in, he seems more like a prop than a character. 

This makes it so that when he dies, you’re upset more so than sad. It doesn’t feel like a tragic circumstance born out of a lot of layers of social strife which culminate in a dead end for a kid who deserved a better life. It feels like every adult around him, every person he encounters, either neglects him, mistreats him or sends him into danger. It feels, much like with Fantine, like an easily avoidable situation. 

And things get worse with this guy:

Like I said in my summary, this David Harbour-ish soldier is the one who is shown to mercilessly kill both Gavroche and execute Enjolras and Grantaire. 

This is another layer in the modus operandi of an adaptation who uses social oppression and political strife as shock value rather than commentary and discourse. 

By personalizing “evil” in one stern, mean, unreasonable, power-hungry soldier, they’re villanizing (and trivializing) the social context as a whole. It isn’t about how Gavroche got to that point, how we as a society failed so hard that he has to die in that way. It’s just one bad guy. 

But then, they try to be fake deep about it, by doing that last scene with his brothers or by placing him alongside Mabeuf and Éponine but not explaining what that means, why those juxtapositions are socially relevant and important to the plot (maybe they don’t know why). 

Overall, this was such a waste of a great Gavroche that I just feel really bad. Reece deserved so much better. 

5. The barricade

Needless to say, this barricade was more of a mess than you would have expected. 

The lack of proper introduction to the political landscape, the clumsy exposition, the out of context shout-y speeches and the erratic behavior of its characters, paired together with the fact that it ends about 1/4 into the last episode, giving more time to personal drama than any of what happens in it, makes it one confusing mess. 

It’s also in the barricade where it’s super clear how visually similar this series is to the 2012 movie. A lot of visual choices are extremely similar, even when they didn’t need to be (Fantine’s and Cosette’s hair choices? the shots in the hulks? the scaled down yet very similar camera angles and movements during the entire fight? the color schemes of some particular scenes?), and it’s pretty heightened in this barricade. 

Which I wouldn’t care about hadn’t they talked crap about the movie during their entire PR campaign. 

Like I said, there were so many issues within the people involved in the barricade. With the women, with the characters, with the soldiers. There was also a very strangely set line between workers and students that they were very clumsy about setting yet didn’t get to do much aside from having the leader of the working class men leave when Enjolras prompted it. 

By the way, Enjolras was a lot less convinced about the whole ordeal in this version, which made his characterization even more confusing. 

The barricade had a lot of messed up ingredients and not enough time to even simmer. At least the musical, which doesn’t have a lot of time dedicated to the students either, has Drink With Me, which doesn’t only serve as a way to characterize different students and their beliefs and personalities (“Is your life just one more lie?”) but also brings some melancholic change of pace, a pause between the action. 

The highlight of this barricade, though, is Marius going apeshit with the torch. 

But, all in all, there’s no much we can expect from a barricade born of confused ideas and even more confusing characterizations. This barricade feels less like a climax and more like a thing they had to do because it was in the book. 

And don’t even make me talk about how they butchered my favorite speech. I’d rather not have it there at all, tbh. 

Conclusion: A writer’s ego

We arrive to the end of this long and boring trip through my thoughts. If you’re reached this point, thank you for your time. 

All in all, I feel like a lot of the issues of this adaptation stem from the fact that Davies thinks he’s better than everyone else and other men around him agree so much that they let him do as he pleases, without questioning anything. 

I can’t really understand how you’re going through the script of this and see some of these choices (like the dress shop scene, the carriage scene and let’s not even mention the peeing in the park scene) and you go, and I’m quoting Shankland here:

“Andrew’s scripts made these characters feel modern. That was nothing to do with having them speak in a very modern way or changing their behaviour, he just found the humanity and earthiness of it,” Shankland says, recalling a scene in which Fantine and her companions urinate in a Paris park. “I thought, ‘Oh god, they’re going to pee in Les Misérables, that’s exciting.’” Source

That just sums it all up, doesn’t it? 

After I watched this, I let some time pass. I watched all 3 fanmade adaptations that are currently out at this moment (back to back), revisited some of the ones I had seen before, read fics, read people’s articles and rants, looked into other adaptations on stage, from the classic ones to the more interpretative versions, and other current tv adaptations being done in other countries. 

All of those things are vastly different. Some are more similar to each other, some are widely different, but they’re all different points of view on the same canon. 

This is a canon that has some of the wildest possible interpretations coexisting. You can have a play centered on one specific character told through the songs of a specific album, a tv drama in modern times with a lawyer Valjean, a coffee shop au starring Les Amis, a parody comedy set in 1832, all happening at the same exact time. 

And that’s great. That’s fascinating. That means this book is still alive because we need it still today. 

Some days you’re in the mood for a heavily political adaptation which gives you goosebumps for setting canon in a context that is closer to your everyday reality, other days you just want all the Amis to live and have movie marathons cuddled together. It’s all valid. 

But what all of those adaptations have in common is that they aren’t trying to be more than they are. They aren’t acting brand new, they aren’t pretending they’re re-inventing the wheel or that they are smarter than Victor Hugo himself because what Hugo didn’t know he needed in the “psychology of the book” was a soulmate au or a documentary series. 

This adaptation, through what they said and how it was written, acted as if it was going to be the ultimate Les Mis adaptation to end them all. It presented itself as smarter than us all, as holding the keys to the meaning of Victor Hugo’s thoughts, as being able to fix his “mistakes”, fix other adaptation’s “mistakes” and deliver the best interpretation of canon possible. 

And it managed to be a sexist, socially insensitive, problematic, un-political, homophobic mess. 

Which, is a problem in itself, but even more so when the canon you’re adapting should be, first and foremost, against all that. It isn’t about how many brick quotes you use, it’s about channeling the soul of the story. 

[sittingoverheredreaming]

Girls’ Night

Happy Valentines Day! Who’s ready for a fic that has nothing to do with the holiday or even romance? This turned out very different that what I set out to write, and it hits some personal notes for me (warning for slight butch and homophobia). Yes, it’s just under 2K words of Haruka starting to connect with the Inners beyond Mina.

_____

None of the girls knew what to expect when Minako announced-- and she had announced, rather than asked-- that Haruka would be coming to their next sleepover. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say they all had expectations, but knew them to be incorrect and somewhat less than kind.

Makoto felt preemptively defensive. If Haruka dared deride any of their activities as too girly or childish, she was ready to fight. Ami was nervous that Haruka would not come without Michiru. She could not tell if she specifically did not want Michiru there, or if she thought a couple would be inappropriate. Likely, she conceded privately, it was both.

Rei braced herself for another boisterous blonde in the group. Usagi worried everyone, including herself, would be too flustered to have fun.

But when Haruka arrived, she did not appear boisterous or haughty or even suave. She looked nervous, shoulders raised, a plastic bag of clothes in one hand and a value-sized tub of cheese puffs in the other.

“I, um, brought these,” she said, handing the later to Usagi. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Usagi smiled and did not say she hadn’t invited her. “Of course, we’re glad you came! Everyone’s in here.” She took Haruka and the cheese puffs into the living room. They had their usual set up, squeezed just a little tighter to ensure a sixth person could fit. “So what sort of movies do you like, Haruka?”

Usagi had meant it as an innocuous question, but everyone’s attention shifted to them to wait for the answer.

“Oh, um.” Haruka scratched the back of her head. “I like about anything, really.”

“You can tell them, buddy,” Mina said from her spot on the couch, without looking up from the fashion magazine she’d filched from Rei.

Haruka flushed. “Really, anything is good, I don’t want to throw you guys off too much.”

There was a flash in Rei’s eyes that clearly said Too late, but no one voiced the thought. Haruka squeezed in to sit next to Mina, doing a poor job of feigning interest in the article she was flipping through on the summer’s hottest dress styles.

Makoto looked on from her other side. “You ever wear stuff like that?”

“Um, not really, no.” Haruka’s neck and ears flushed pink. “It’s just not really my thing? I mean, I had to wear dresses when I was younger, but…”

“Mhm,” said Makoto, and Haruka felt this was somehow the wrong answer.

Mina threw an arm around Haruka’s shoulders. “Haruka likes pizza though! We should get to ordering.”

Haruka tried to relax into her embrace. “Yeah, pizza’s great. Any kind of pizza is great.”

“Everyone loves pizza!” Usagi held up her phone like it was a holy sword, ready to order. “Pizza is the great uniter of the people.”

Haruka couldn’t help but laugh. “Actually, would you believe Michiru doesn’t like pizza? I didn’t think it was possible.”

No one else found it amusing. “She does seem the type,” Ami said cooly. Rei and Makoto nodded. Usagi still held her phone in the air, face contorted as she tried to process the words doesn’t like pizza.

“Why don’t we get two large pepperoni?” Mina said as though nothing at all had transpired. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ravenous.

Five uncomfortable murmurs of assent, and she declared the pizza would be on its way. For a long stretch, they all pretended to watch the pizza tracker. Their order had been received. The restaurant had not begun preparing it. Mina tapped her screen to keep it from going dark.

“You know, I’m pretty good at painting nails. Mi…” Haruka shifted and cleared her throat, sensing at the last moment that mentioning Michiru again was not the best course. “I could do it for you guys, if you wanted.”

“Maybe after the pizza,” Rei said. “If our nails don’t dry, it’s hard to eat.”

“Okay.”

“Look.” Mina tossed her phone to type side and pressed her palms against the table. “She did mine the other day.”

Her nails were a simple red. It was the most Haruka could do, but it was hardly impressive to anyone besides Usagi.

“That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell us Haruka did them?”

Haruka had sworn Mina to secrecy, but she knew better than to say that. “It’s her secret power.”

“I’m jealous. I always get it all uneven.” Usagi pulled off her socks to wiggle her toes, where polish clumped at her cuticles and stuck to the skin around her nail.

“You just get too impatient.” Rei smacked at her socks. “If you just took your time--”

“I do, Rei, I do!” Usagi swung her socks in Rei’s face. “I go so slow! You’ve seen me, I just can’t do it good.”

“You only think you can’t.”

“Reeeeeiiiiiiiii.”

Makoto chuckled and leaned back on the couch. “You sure got them started.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean--”

She waved Haruka off, feeling momentarily charitable. “They get like this no matter what. It’s what you signed up for just by coming.”

“Yeah. It’s kind of nice. You guys are, I mean, when you’re just…” Haruka trailed off.

Makoto softened a little, loosening from the animosity that had built between them. “It’s always nice when people stop being on their best behavior for you.”

Mina beamed behind Haruka’s back. Even Ami, on the other side of the room, looked more comfortable. By the time the pizza arrived, she was sure this was going all according to plan. They all dug in happily, and for a moment it seemed nothing could go wrong. Usagi tried to match Haruka bite for bite-- a simple, yet admirable feat-- while Rei berated them both for their manners. Mako laughed at them all, big and loud, and Ami laughed small and quiet.

But as Mina knew very well, a victory so easily won was just as easily lost.

“It’s movie time!” Usagi declared when the pizza boxes were put aside in favor of various snacks. “What should we watch?”

Everyone-- besides Haruka-- threw in their ideas. Ami got groans for suggesting an Einstine documentary, but so did Rei for her historical drama. Mina, for once, did not suggest anything risque, but instead put forward a rom-com everyone had liked the last time they’d watched it. Makoto also suggested a rom-com.

And then Usagi pulled out a dog movie.

“Mama said this was really good!” She pointed at the cover art. “And the dog is super cute.”

“I heard they did a lot of research on dog behavior for that, it’s supposed to be very accurate.”

Rei nodded as though she was just as interested in scientific accuracy as Ami. “That’s my vote.”

“I’m down.”

Everyone looked to Haruka and Mina. “Um…” Haruka looked at the floor. “Wouldn’t you guys rather watch something more romancey?”

“Why?” Makoto asked, bristling again. “Is that all you think girls like?”

“No, I just like them, and--”

“What, you think the women are hot?”

If looks could kill, Mina would have murdered Rei on the spot.

“No!” Haruka waived her hands in front of her face. “I mean, sometimes, maybe, I don’t know, but probably not any more than you do.”

“Than I do?” Rei went tense, and the room went tenser.

“Than any of you, I mean.”

As soon as she said it, she knew it was a misstep. Ami blushed very red. Makoto looked to the ceiling. Rei crossed her arms, mouthing the beginning of arguments and shaking her head. Usagi didn’t look shaken, at least, just thoughtful, like maybe the idea just hadn’t occurred to her before.

“Well I guess the closet walls are coming down tonight, huh?” Mina said, too loud and cheerful. She clapped her hands. “We don’t have to unpack this right now, so why don’t we--”

“I think I’m gonna go.” Haruka grabbed her bag. “I’m making everyone uncomfortable. Sorry.” She was out the door before Mina could stop her.

“What the fuck, you guys?”

“Don’t what the fuck us. What the fuck you, you brought her.” Rei pointed an accusatory finger. “None of us wanted her here.”

“Yeah, you made that painfully clear. You could have been nice and gave her a shot.”

“I did and she accused me of--”

“Rei Hino you are a lesbian and everyone knows it, she didn’t accuse anyone of shit.”

“She was making fun of us,” Makoto said, tone terse and measured. “She thinks we’re too girly.”

Mina took a breath. “Firstly, projecting much? Secondly, she does like rom coms, and painting nails, because she’s a complex human being, and she just didn’t want to watch the stupid dog movie because she was gonna cry when the dog died, and she’d get all embarrassed about that.”

“THE DOG DIES?”

They ignored Usagi. Ami looked around, and, realizing it was her turn, shrugged sheepishly. “I just don’t like her much.”

Mina rose a finger, but then dropped it. “You know, that’s actually pretty fair. Thank you for being honest.”

Usagi, being ignored already, took the opportunity to slip outside. She was happy to see Haruka hadn’t gotten any further than her car, having taken a moment to brood behind the wheel. She forced a smile as Usagi approached. “You shouldn’t be outside barefoot, kitten.”

“I want to apologize for everyone. Can I come in?”

Haruka shrugged, so Usagi climbed into the passenger seat. “I didn’t know the dog died. In the movie, I mean.”

Haruka chuckled. “That’s okay.”

“I would have cried too.”

Haruka flushed, and they were silent for a long stretch.

“It’s hard to think of you as just one of the girls.”

“Yeah, I know. I get that a lot.”

“Not… not just that.” Usagi stared at the dashboard. “You’re only a year older than us, but you seem so… so far ahead. I don’t think Michiru would be any less intimidating. You know parts of yourselves we can’t even fathom yet. And you’re like, practically married.”

“And you and Mamoru aren’t?”

“That’s different, we have a whole other life and destiny tying us together. You just chose each other.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Haruka folded her arms over the wheel and rested her chin on them. “I don’t feel older than you guys, though. You guys have built this whole thing with each other, and I don’t have that with anyone. I mean, Mina likes me alright, and we hang out, but that’s it. I haven’t had a group like this since I was real little, and even then it was mostly boys.” She smiled weakly. “They stopped liking me when I started beating them at sports and not kissing them.”

Usagi laughed. “Well, you can beat me at all the sports, I’m sure, and I won’t stop liking you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Her eyes widened and she pumped her fists. “Let’s have our own sleepover in here!” She leaned back her seat and started to pull up movies on her phone.

“It won’t be comfortable.”

“It’ll be better than spending the night with meanie Rei. Here, this is a movie I’ve seen, nobody dies and it’s real cute” She balanced her phone on the window so Haruka could see. “We can have a nice little girl’s night.”

Haruka sighed and leaned her seat back to join her. “I guess this could be fun.”

Mina looked on from the front step as Usagi hit play. The others would come around with time, she was sure, and if nothing else, this was a good start. She slipped back inside to make sure no one would interrupt Haruka’s sleepover.

[toosmallinabigworld-blog]

Hitchhiker’s Guide to Female Sex Education

I decided I would write this post because almost every woman I know has taken sex ed in school but didn’t gain an immense amount of knowledge from it. They learned anatomy,  learned about heterosexual sex only, that the ONLY way to not get pregnant is by being abstinent (not totally true), and how to put on a condom. I understand why they didn’t go into some of the nitty gritty, it may have been a bit too graphic for high schoolers (doubtful for most). But I think they also missed some really important things. I lucked out and the school I went to actually did a pretty great job with sex ed. So I figured I would share my knowledge. Some of which definitely isn’t high school appropriate, but we’re all adults here right? I hope. And for the guys who are inevitably reading this, because you know, it's SEX education (or you're genuinely curious. And if that's the case, rock on). This information is actually rather pertinent to you as well. This is an opportunity to get some insider information. Think about it, wouldn't it be easier to please your lady if you knew the things about her body that she did? See, told you, this is pertinent to you.

Let’s start with an anatomy review. Vagina first. Since I don’t have access to non copyrighted pictures I’m just going to crash course you through this with words. Wish me luck. To begin, when you look at a vagina head on you’re going to see a lot of things. That also may have been one of the strangest sentences I have ever written. The first thing you should know about is the Mons Pubis*. That’s the fancy term for the skin that’s above the lips. Some women may have hair there, some none at all, some just a bit. That’s THEIR prerogative. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve had a guy ask me to shave (only one woman has). News flash, what a woman does with her pubic hair is up to her. If you wouldn’t personally do it, don’t ask her to. It’s a preference and if you prefer it a certain way that’s totally fine. Just don’t assume that your word is the only thing she is going to consider. Afterall it is her body. This goes for men and women. Just below the mons pubis is the first set of vaginal lips, the labia majora, those are pretty self explanatory. And a little further inside those lips is the labia minora. Now, I’m going to harp on this part here for a second. Just like boobs, and balls, the lips usually don’t look identical. The vast majority of women don’t have perfect little porn pussies. Because I’m a nerd and I like to be accurate I did some research and I found a cross-sectional study of 244 women done by the Department of Obstetrics and Gynaecology at Kolding Medical Center*. Which found 56% of the women had visible labia minora. All of the girls I’ve talked to who have this, have been really insecure about it because they had received criticism from men about what they looked like. Had their labia referred to as “meat curtains”, “roast beef lips” or in my case “flappy flaps”. How fucking rude? Women can’t control what their vaginas look like (without surgical intervention) just like men can’t control what their scrotums looks like. Get over it, you’re not perfect either. Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system lets continue. At the opening of the labia majora you’ll see a little mound. That mound is the clitoral hood and hiding under there is the clitoris. Also known as the clit, rosebud, man in a canoe, the bean, ect. The clit has 8,000 nerve endings, double what the head of the penis has. Hence why it’s so sensitive. But the clit isn’t just external. Under the skin the nerves of the clit spread out like a wishbone. Under the clit a few centimeters is the urethral opening, i.e. where the pee comes out. And below that, everyone’s favorite place, the vaginal opening! Did you know that the vagina is only on the inside? I don’t think I need to explain what that is for but just for posterity I will. That is where a baby comes out of when it’s born, where a penis, fingers, or toys is inserted. Now, inside the vagina there is some fun stuff too. About two inches in, give or take, at the top of the vagina there is a spot that has about the same texture of a knit sweater. That is the mysterious and elusive g spot. I say give or take because every woman is different. The G spot is a magical spot because that is one of the spots that a woman derives pleasure from. Think of it as the clit’s little sister. Find it and you’ll be considered a winner, because stimulating it feels phenomenal. Something else I should mention that they actually do mention in sex ed, I think. Inside the vagina you have the hymen. It is a piece of skin that is what’s “popped” when you have sex with a virgin. However you have been mislead to believe that if a woman doesn’t have a hymen that she is not a virgin. That is incorrect. According to Planned Parenthood many times women have a large hole in their hymen to begin to allow blood to flow through during menstruation. There are things that can stretch the hymen out naturally; riding a bike frequently, regular vigorous spots, inserting tampons or fingers. I don’t know one single woman who when they started using tampons didn’t stick a finger up there a time or two to make sure their tampon was secure. Glad that’s out of the way and we can stop hymen shaming. You have now ment the vagina. Congratulations, you’re now on first name basis.

Since we’re on the topic of the vagina. “Let’s talk about sex baby”! I want to start with the abstinence comment I mentioned earlier. As women we are taught that the ONLY way we can’t get pregnant is abstinence, that isn’t true. Is it true for heterosexual sex? Absolutely. You can get pregnant having  anal sex with a man however, according to American Pregnancy Association*. However, it is phenomenally unlikely. But not impossible. But with lady on lady  sex, nope. Women born as gender confirmed women don’t have sperm. That’s just a fact. So the only way a woman would be able to get another woman pregnant would be if they had a way to introduce sperm into the equation. Whilst we’re on the topic of ladies having sex, let’s talk about protection when it comes to women.

I got really lucky in that my school brought in a nurse to talk to my fellow students about ALL of the types of contraception. That’s actually how I started taking birth control. The nurse was so kind and advised me on how to talk to my mom about it. Also side note/tangent whilst we are here. If you’re still on your parents insurance and not on birth control but you want to be, here’s how I talked to my parents about it. I told my mom that at the time I wasn’t having sex (I wasn’t I promise) but in the event that I did I wanted to be on it just incase. It’s my body and I wanted to be in control of my sexual health and be an adult about it. And she was really respondent to that. It’s all about broaching the subject in a way that your parents will understand. You don’t have to explain it the same way that I did, but being your parents they do want you to be safe and take the proper precautions if you are going to have sex. So good lucky mis amigas. Back to contraception with women. Even though another woman can’t get you pregnant, that does not mean she can’t give you an STI (I also want to talk about those but I’ll come back to it. Haha, come…. get it. I shouldn’t tell jokes). Had that nurse not told me about this I would have NEVER known about them. But there are these things called dental dams. They’re essentially a lady condom in the sense that you put the latex material over the lady’s clit/vaginal opening and go to town. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s a step. What’s hilarious about dental dams is that when I looked them up the first result was for actual dental use. So if you’re afraid of the dentist, next time you go and they use one of those. Just think, there’s a lady getting eaten out somewhere with the same thing. Have a good chuckle and alleviate your anxiety.  Onto contraception when having sex with a man, unfairly to the LGBTQ+ community there is an insanely large contraception market for penis in vagina sex. For women you have the pill, IUDs (don’t confuse those with IEDs, literally fatal mistake, I make the mistake when I say it all the time), the diaphragm (not my first recommendation, it’s very complicated to insert, there is a time frame in which you have to insert it before sex, and it also requires spermicide to be fully effective), sponge, shot, implant, vaginal ring. When it comes to contraception it’s personal preference; I go for the pill and condoms. Tried and true. You still can get pregnant regardless of contraception method though, just be aware of that. Also HUGE NOTE that a lot of women I know don’t know. Some antibiotics make your birth control ineffective. I have a friend who shall remain nameless that had sex whilst his girlfriend was on antibiotics and the pill and now he has a child. Just a very important warning. And for the boys….y’all got condoms and spermicide, Godspeed, don’t fuck it up. Also another thing. Condoms have expiry dates, the spermicide on them wears away after time. Also don’t keep them in your wallet. Think about how much abuse that thing takes, and in turn that condom is taking. Check for holes in the condom and wrap up boys.

The contraception talk feels like a perfect segway into talking about STIs. Again I got very lucky with my school’s sex ed and we had a few VERY graphic classes about them and how they are transmitted. I also took an Intro To Human Disease class in college that went into even more scary gory details. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TALK TO YOUR PARTNER ABOUT THEIR SEXUAL HISTORY! We are taught to always wear a condom. But we aren’t usually taught to have the conversation with your partner about who they have had sex with and their testing history. I know it’s an awkward and embarrassing conversation. Nobody wants to have an STI but it’s an immensely important discussion. The best sex is safe sex. And knowing if your partner has something is important. It shouldn’t be a conversation where you shame your partner, mistakes happen. Some having more serious consequences than others. Which leads us nicely into testing. It is recommended that you get tested after each partner unless you’re monogamous and fully aware of your partners situation. I know getting tested can be scary, I’ve been tested myself. But in most cases the doctor, PA, or nurse who tests you is going to be very kind about it. It’s important to take care of yourself and that includes your sexual health. STIs run rampant in this country, so much that there are medication resistant strains of Chlamydia and Gonorrhea running around. So be nice to your penis or vagina and get it tested. It will thank you. Not verbally I hope, that would be weird I’ve gotta say.

Now that we have conversed about safety let’s talk about another prevalent symptom of having sex, particularly as a woman. Slut shaming. It is huge, I know so so many girls including myself who have been shamed for having sex. It’s a total double standard. A man sleeps around and he’s just considered another bro, a player swimming in pussy. And a girl is looked at as dirty and impure. News flash ladies and gents. Everyone has sex, the frequency in which they do that is nothing to judge. As long as they are STI free, consenting, and into you, go forth and fornicate. The amount of people someone has had sex with is by no means indicative of who they are as a person. You can be what I refer to as a sexual creature and still be a Mother Theresa type. Don’t rush to judge someone just because they have a lot of sexual experiences. It’s ok to love sex, just be safe about it.

Last thing about vaginas and then we will move on. Let’s talk periods. Every man’s favorite subject. Every woman has one and as I’m sure you are aware. They Suck Ass. For some of the boys reading this who don’t understand periods let me explain. Your period happens once a month every month, usually on the same days each month but some women have irregular periods. A period is when your uterus sheds its lining. It does this when there isn’t a fertilized egg. Which can cause: cramps, heavy bleeding, headaches, bloating, changes in mood, breast tenderness and swelling, diarrhea, nausea, general pain. So yea, having a period really sucks. And next time you bitch someone out for being on their period just think, would you want to bleed the consistency of snot for a week through your dick? And be bloated, in pain, and craving chocolate constantly (that one may just be me)? No, I didn’t think so.

Now that we’ve covered the vagina, let’s talk tits. Every person I have ever met, including my asexual friends likes boobs. They’re fun, that’s just a fact. They’re warm, usually very soft, squishy (also sometimes firm), they look good, and they sustain life for infants. What’s not to love?  There are a multitude of things I’m sure not a lot of people know about boobs. Let’s start with nipples. Not every woman’s nipples are going to be these perfect pink button sized nipples. Some are flat (meaning the nipple isn’t raised), one is bigger than the other, they may not be pink (red, brown, rosy pink, ect.), they may have hair on them, one may be flat and the other isn’t (mine). Nipples just like people come in all shapes and sizes, so no nipple shaming. Hanging out with the nipple is that areola. That is the colored circle around the nipple. Again these are probably not going to be the exact same size, may not even be circular, may be large or small. I hate hearing people call someone with large areolas pepperoni nipples. You can’t choose your areolas, just like you can’t choose to have leg bones. It is how it is. Guys, you know how most of you have one ball that hangs lower than the other? It’s the same for women, except one tit is usually bigger than the other. The only ones that I know of that aren’t like that are the plastic ones. And it shouldn’t be something to be self conscious of because I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have that. Now, if you notice something irregular about your breast you should pay attention to it. Random nipple discharge, lumps in your breasts, tenderness not from a period or injury. These are all things you should talk to your doctor about. And I know from personal experience how scary that can be, I found a nodule in my breast that just turned out to be a cyst. And I only discovered this because I do regular self breast examinations. I cannot stress how important it is to do these. You could (god forbid) discover an irregularity that turns out to be cancer. But because you check yourself you found it early and got it taken care of. To do an examination, lay on your back with one arm above your head. Using 2-4 fingers massage around your breast in quadrants. Mentally split your breast into four and go section by section. Normal breast tissue should feel almost like a cable knit sweater. And I know this may seem awkward but if you do feel something off, talk to your mom about it. My mom alleviated so much stress for me when she said it didn’t feel serious and my doctor confirmed it. You should also feel the nipples, and up into your armpit. Because the breast tissue extends through there. MEN, you too can also get breast cancer. It is less common but do still examine yourself. I check myself on the 9th of every month. It’s a routine and it reminds me to take care of myself. So ladies and gents, get your squish on.

We have now reached the end of the post. And I hope that I could instill some knowledge in you. I think it’s really important to know your body and everything that is going on with it. And I also find it important to be generally informed that way if you’re with your partner and you feel something strange you can let them know about it. Knowledge is power my friends. Thank you for reading and I hope you were able to get something out of this. It was fun to write.

*Citations:

"Clitorian Anatomy." Clitorian Female Masturbation and the Clitoris , www.clitorian.com/AnatomyPage.html.

Lykkebo, AW, et al. "The Size of Labia Minora and Perception of Genital Appearance: A Cross-Sectional Study." PubMed.gov, NCBI, 23 July 2017, www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/28369012. Accessed 17 Apr. 2019

"Virginity." Plannedparenthood.com, Planned Parenthood , www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/teens/sex/virginity..

"Can Pregnancy Occur If…? Pregnancy Myths Cleared Up!" American Pregnancy Association Promoting Pregnancy Wellness, 23 May 2017, americanpregnancy.org/preventing-pregnancy/pregnancy-myths/.