#oh women have always been able to /influence/ politics

[junewongapologia]

The fact is tho that no matter how you look at it, no matter how insufferable she is, no matter how Out Of Touch, regardless of whether she’s doing herself no favours: Eloise is right about society and just about everyone else in the show is wrong.

Like, she’s not got the full picture, she’s blinkered and her political philosophy is not very in depth or well thought out. But she’s right, and I think that’s why a lot of people watching really don’t like her because she’s breaking the illusion. All in all, the 1810s were a shit time to be alive for most people, and you can “well actually” it all you like, but the Luddite movement existed for a reason, the Chartists existed for a reason, Porto-feminist writers like Wollstonecraft and de Gouges wrote what they did for a reason.

So when you keep being reminded that it was a terrible social order for women - in a show targeted mainly towards women for escapist purposes then that character is going to come across as irritating, because she’s ruining the immersion.

Really, her attitude isn’t more anachronistic than the dresses, or the hairdos, or the diamond necklaces (men and women had been advocating women’s right to vote since before Eloise was born, lads), but it’s a problem because people are watching the show for the sweeping romances and the general regency vibe, they don’t want to think about how the regency was for most people. Which inevitably leads to some incredible projection, when watchers of a show with the central conceit of only being interested in the love lives of the top one percent of the one percent of the British aristocracy acting as though Eloise is the only privileged person on the show.

And yeah, she is better off than most of the people who exist in all of Regency Britain (though if you were to take the show as read, Britain is made up of about 70% aristocracy, 1% gentry, 5% urban bourgeoisie and 24% urban workers), but she’s the only one whose privilege is harped on out of her whole family and social circle. 99% of the speaking characters in the show come from a posher background than Beau fucking Brummell.

And! Eloise is literally just about the only main character who ever has to question her privilege! And when she is in season 2 she doesn’t throw a shitfit, she’s willing to learn! She goes out of her way to hear perspectives that she wouldn’t have heard in her social circle! But the narrative punishes her for that, and that’s because for all the criticism she gets about needing her privilege checked, they don’t actually want her to learn, they just want her to shut up and enjoy the trappings of regency decadence as much as they do.

Also - I know it’s really fashionable to rag on “pick-mes” and “Not Like Other Girls” - but actually, no, “traditional femininity” has never been socially unacceptable for women the way being GNC is, and it is in fact ruthlessly socially enforced against GNC women, even more so in the 1810s. Eloise is a teenaged girl in a society that stigmatises her for her wish for more legal autonomy, the idea that she’s somehow the villain for not being able to enjoy “feminine” hobbies without seeing them as just another element of the way women’s education is trivialised as ornamental, is farcical. “Sewing is a valuable and useful skill” so is cooking, but there’s a reason my mam, and not my dad, had home economics lessons, and that reason is still misogyny, despite the fact that it set her up better for being able to operate independently as an adult.

Idk I’m just kind of uncomfortable that in a world of rising reactionary political sentiment towards women, and this seemingly increasingly re-normalised view that women need to be wives and homemakers, people feel that the person on the show who needs to do the most introspection regarding their politics is an eighteen-year-old who is vocal about the fact that she has limited legal rights, and not any of the adult men in the show (a lot of whom probably have seats in the Upper House!!!) who never mention politics at all.

And frankly, given the shower who were Having Political Opinions in the long eighteenth century, Eloise’s brand of semi-anachronistic protofeminism is infinitely preferable to Hannah “I refuse to teach the poor how to write in my schools” More, or Edmund “don’t read my big thesis on revolutions too closely it’s definitely not all lies and junk history” Burke, or even a load of prominent members of the Bluestocking Society.

[queenfredegund]

How would you rank each Merovingian regina based on the following; 1. Your personal favourites also love to know why 2. Political influence.

Each of them, oh it would be very long, haha, so I will go for some top 5 (in no particular order):

Fredegund ♥♥: unmatched! I love her unusual path, her strong will throughout her whole life, and I find her personal life really moving, with a loving husband and too much sons who died in infancy... Poor woman needs a hug!

Sichildis: probbaly the bitchiest of the bitchies, but it's really apalling to me to see how underrated she is actually despite her important and controversial role in her lifetime. I think she deserves way more attention than that!

Bilichildis I: a former slave who rose to royal consort status and was regarded as a political ally, even among high-ranking courtiers, should I say more? Theodebert really did her dirty, and I'm pretty sure his later fate after her death is pure karma!

Nantechildis: an other underrated woman, because she had everything in her hands, even during Dagobert's lifetime, and she could have been so much more if only she didn't died so early during her son's regency. Truelly, she was made for being another powerful regent.

Brunehilde: because she's Brunehilde! No matter how hard people try to present her as Fredegund's nemesis, I'm calling for share respect and appreciation of these two incredible women.

Regarding the political influence, this is quite difficult to estimate because we often lack of many details to appreciate the entourage in a more complete aspect, but I think these women can be seen as the peak influential at one point during their lives:

Chlodechildis I, consort to Chlodovech I: probably the most powerful woman of her time, who litterally commanded bishops and kings (her sons). I think we can presume of just an inch of what was actually her whole legacy, because the way she's whorshipped as a sainted figure in som randoms french villages says a lot about the impression she had left behind her.

Brunehilde, consort to Sigebert I: at some point in Gregory of Tours' chronicle, there is an allusion about how influential she was even during the lifetime of her husband, and that some austrasian aristocrats grew jealous of her, because she was able to intercede and speak in the name of her protegees. This is also one of the few merovingian reginae about which we can estimate the personal circle, as we know she had a goddaughter, or that she was a good friend to some poets or courtiers.

Bathildis, consort to Chlodovech II: I already explained in another post [X] how I think that Bathildis achieved so much influence that she was on the verge of becoming a second Brunehilde, and so allegedly had to step back to protect herself.

Bilichildis I, consort to Theodebert II: again, she was really an important royal intercessor, and was apparently taken in consideration regarding political and diplomatic matters, as far as becoming Brunehilde's equal in correspondence exchanges. I think it tells a lot!

Fredegund, consort to Chilperich I: because no matter how many times some people tried to overruled her or diminished her, she always found her way to stay at the top. And as far as I think she was able to fend for herself, we shouldn't imagine that this kind of longevity can exist without true and strong connections. Fredegund had always been very influential among Chilperich's court, and I will add to this that it's actually not sure he became monogamous for her (at least it's a good hypothesis, regarding the fact he wasn't one either in their previous relationship), but she surely was the one and one only to gave birth to his sons after the 560s. So in some way, she was totally ruling his family.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Jgy and jyl couple, where meng yao asked for nmj help for courting her in the middle of sunshot campain, could we see the political shenanigans involving jgs being his scummy self and newborn meng ling

World 2 - continuation of Four Worlds (JGY/JYL) - ao3 link

-

“So, uh,” Nie Mingjue said, uncertain and tripping over his tongue a way he never typically did. “What’s your plan?”

Meng Yao blinked at him.

“For courting Mistress Jiang,” Nie Mingjue clarified. “Unless you’ve already reached an agreement..?”

A bowl of soup every night and some pleasant conversation did not, in fact, make for an agreement to marriage, so Meng Yao shook his head.

“Right. So you have a plan, then.”

Meng Yao did not have a plan. Meng Yao did not have anything, nothing but his father’s blood, the weight of his promise to his mother, and his own clever mind; all he had was the sudden and overwhelming conviction that if he let Jiang Yanli go her own way without him that he would never again find a woman who would truly see him as her equal.

There was that girl, Qin Su, that he’d rescued – but that had been artifice, deliberate. He who had access to all of the reports of all the spies in the Sunshot Campaign, who sent out correspondence advising people on what roads were dangerous and which were safe, how could he not know that she would find danger in the route she had chosen? He had deliberately manufactured to rescue her as a means of winning her affection, his eyes all the while fixed on the prize of her surname, her family, which was one of the strongest subsidiary sects of Lanling Jin. They had influence he would need in winning back his name.

And while he had succeeded in his goal – once he had some status, she would fight her father to marry him, he was certain – he still thought he could detect the slightest hint of pity in her eyes. She was a girl in love, claiming that she didn’t care who he was or anything about his past, but how long would that last in the face of sober reality? In the face of struggle, of bitter adversity, of the opposition and scorn of all?

“…would you like help?” Nie Mingjue said, possibly correctly interpreting the blankness on Meng Yao’s face as absolute panic for the first time in the time they had known each other.

“Can you help?” Meng Yao inquired. It seemed unlikely.

“Well, I can write to my brother,” Nie Mingjue said, which sounded far more likely than the infamously frigid Chifeng-zun abruptly developing an expertise in wooing women. “And I’m on good terms with Mistress Jiang personally, so I might be able to provide some insight –”

“Wait,” Meng Yao said, fixing him with a stare. “What do you mean you’re on good terms with her personally?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “Exactly what I said..? We first became acquainted as children, and while we were never close, we were always friendly.”

“But – you only allowed her to stay at our warcamp if she agreed to work! You said you’d kick her out if she wasn’t useful!”

“Naturally,” Nie Mingjue said. “Otherwise she might suspect I pitied her.”

Presumably, Meng Yao reflected, that statement made some amount of sense in Nie Mingjue’s head.

“What does she like, then?” he asked, deciding to focus on the practical. “Cooking, her brothers –”

Befriending people who are so far below her that they aren’t worthy of touching her shoe.

“She’s never had much talent at swordsmanship,” Nie Mingjue said at once, because of course that would be the first thing he would pay attention to. “Not her fault – she’s like Huaisang, born with a weak body, only worse, since it affected her breathing. Too much exertion and she’d turn blue…she used to chew licorice for it, when she was very young; if I recall correctly, she developed a taste for it.”

“Licorice? She likes licorice candy?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“She also always enjoyed reading. Poetry, classic texts or light, she wasn’t particular,” he said, brow furrowed in recollection. “She liked puzzles. Was always doing something with her hands – not embroidery, though, not unless she had to. But other things.”

Meng Yao nodded, his quick mind already flooded with ideas, thoughts…he was going to need to be clever about this.

Worse – he was going to need to be honest.

Jiang Yanli deserved it.

-

Meng Yao went to Langya with Nie Mingjue’s recommendation letter in his pocket and the memory of two hands in his, pressing together tightly, and a “yes” that rang in his ears so loudly that he almost didn’t hear the sneers and disdain of the people around him.

His father refused to see him, his peers mocked him, his supervisor stole his achievements and called his mother a whore –

“Yes,” Jiang Yanli whispered in his ear. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Meng Yao ignored them all.

He figured out soon enough that Lanling Jin was getting him nowhere, and that without some tremendous achievement, he wouldn’t get the name he had promised his mother he’d have, the one he was starting to doubt he even really wanted.

His supervisor told him he’d be better off dead in the battlefield, implied that he’d see it happen sooner rather than later. Meng Yao considered killing him.

“I would be proud to be your wife.”

Meng Yao did not kill him.

Nie Mingjue might’ve, chasing him out of the battlefield the way he did, eyes red with rage at Jin Guangshan’s insulting pretense – if nothing else, he should have given Nie Mingjue face by accepting the letter, especially given how many battles Nie Mingjue had won for him – but Meng Yao did not.

“I have an idea,” he told Nie Mingjue once he’d had a chance to calm the man down. “You’re going to hate it, so I’m not going to tell you what it is.”

“Be safe,” Nie Mingjue said at once. “Don’t do anything stupid and widow Mistress Jiang before you even marry her.”

Meng Yao smiled, and closed his ears to the sound of Jiang Yanli’s voice. He would need it more than ever, where he was going, but more importantly, if he wanted to succeed, he needed he needed to be the sort of person he was without her.

“I won’t.”

-

It was, Jin Guangyao thought with satisfaction, a perfect strategy.

He had brought down Wen Ruohan with his own hands, saved Nie Mingjue’s life – “What part of ‘I won’t do anything stupid’ means ‘I’m going to go spy in the Nightless City’, you imbecile?” “Sect Leader Nie is happy to see me, then?” “Of course I’m happy to see you! Now get over here and let me break your legs!” – and even swore brotherhood with him and with Lan Xichen.

With such a string of achievements to his name, strong connections to the other Great Sects, and even a personal title, there was no way Jin Guangshan would be able to resist the idea of bringing him into the Jin family to steal some of his reflected glory, even if it meant he’d finally have to give his bastard son the recognition and the name he’d so long refused to grant him.

Oh, his father had gotten his dig in there, calling him Jin Guangyao and situating him firmly outside the line of inheritance for the next generation where he properly belonged, but a name was a name. He was Lanling Jin, now and forever; his promise to his mother fulfilled at long last.

“We will have to find something for you to do, I suppose,” Jin Guangshan said when Jin Guangyao rose to his feet bearing a new name, as though he was trying to place a distant relative into some position as a servant, the minor irritations attendant to the life of a sect leader. “You were a deputy once, weren’t you? Doing all sorts of administrative things. You can arrange the hunt that we will hold to celebrate the end of the war, at Phoenix Mountain.”

“It would be my honor to serve you in this matter, father,” Jin Guangyao said demurely, and even managed to avoid rolling his eyes at the way Jin Guangshan pretended he didn’t know exactly whose deputy he had been, even after Nie Mingjue’s rather impassioned and too-public lecture on the subject back in Langya. “I am pleased to be able to contribute something before I leave the family.”

“Before – what?” Jin Guangshan turned a little purple in his rage, embarrassed in front of all the people who had come to view the naming ceremony and who had all started whispering all at once. His wife, who had been glaring death, suddenly looked far more interested in the proceedings. “Leave? What are you talking about?”

“I’m engaged to be married,” Jin Guangyao said apologetically. “I agreed to marry in – you understand, I didn’t have the Jin surname at the time.”

“You have it now. The girl can marry into our family, instead!”

Jin Guangyao’s smile widened. “I’m so pleased to have your blessing upon my marriage, Father,” he said, bowing his head. A father’s blessing was critical to a proper wedding, so he wanted it to be clear to the entire room that Jin Guangshan had agreed. It would make it more difficult for him to recant later. “But her family is small, her parents and much of her sect killed in the war, and she has only one brother – I promised her that I would marry in to ensure that her parents’ legacy lives on, even if only as the collateral branch.”

“It does you credit to respect your future bride in such a manner,” Madame Jin said before Jin Guangshan could speak. Jin Guangyao had counted on her leaping to his aid: she must think that it was in her best interest that the one bastard that Jin Guangshan had finally legitimatized be immediately rendered utterly ineligible for inheriting the Jin sect, and that nothing else mattered. Her open support now would make it more difficult for her to recant later, too, when she discovered that he was foiling her plans for her own son’s marriage. “Quite romantic, even. It warms my heart to see such faithful love.”

Jin Guangshan’s face went even more purple. To be criticized in public like that – only Madame Jin could accomplish such a feat.

Jin Guangyao saluted and bowed deeply to them both once again. “Father and Mother honor me too much. With your approval, I will arrange the Phoenix Mountain hunt as a proud member of the Jin clan and leave the family to marry into my beloved’s family on the first auspicious date thereafter.”

“Fine,” Jin Guangshan said, his lip twisting into a sneer. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be part of Lanling Jin and then leave it behind – he probably expected Jin Guangyao to stay and beg for scraps of attention, to run around doing anything he wished, to scheme for an inheritance he would always be denied. He might not have been wrong, in another life where that was Jin Guangyao’s only route to power – he’d always been ambitious, and often a little too optimistic with it. “Fine. You are, after all, my son, and to marry you will be a great honor for whichever family you choose. We’ll pay for your wedding, and even endower you as if you were a bride worthy of the family you marry into – it is the least that we can do, for the great honor that you have brought to Lanling Jin.”

At least his father remembered that he’d made a contribution, Jin Guangyao thought, and bowed again. It was an insult to call it a dowry, as if Jin Guangyao was a woman, instead of simply bestowing it on him outright as a gift, and even that pathetic gesture was only being made because his father knew they were in public, surrounded by the sect leaders of the cultivation world that he wanted to impress. And even then, even then, he had still tried to be clever, to say he would only make Jin Guangyao equal to the family he married into.

No doubt he expected that the only family that would take him when he was Meng Yao was some bunch of nobodies, and that the wedding would therefore be small, cheap, and uninteresting, just as he no doubt thought Jin Guangyao deserved.

He was doomed to disappointment.

“Congratulations, brother,” Jin Zixuan said, and maybe even meant it. “Who is your intended bride?”

Jin Guangyao savored the moment.

“Mistress Jiang, of Yunmeng Jiang,” he said, and watched Jin Guangshan’s face go pale, Madame Jin’s twist in abrupt rage, Jin Zixuan’s eyes go wide in sudden envy.

There were those that said the best revenge was living well, and they had something of a point, only they had left out a bit.

The best revenge was living well – and rubbing your enemies’ faces in it.

[gra-sonas]

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Was the year time jump because of the pandemic? To sidestep making that too central to the plot, or was that always the plan?

JEANINE MASON: That was always our intention and it was just sort of a saving grace in that way. We also don't acknowledge the pandemic in real-time on our show. There are no masks and that was just so wonderful just to get work in that way and have that time where it was a little more normal. Also, that's just our show — we want you to come to us the way you always do, which is for nineties nostalgia, sexy Cowboys, brilliant scientists, you know? CHRIS HOLLIER: So we wanted to drop our characters in a year later, let them stew in their individual decisions that were made last season. We want everyone to root for our poster couple but we want to honor what happens in real life, which is sometimes you step away from that person, even if you are entwined with them in a very particular way. So we wanted it to be a real enough time and distance so that they could live a little life on their own.

With showrunner Carina Adly MacKenzie departing at the end of season 2, has much changed? Or are you still working with ideas she had in place?'

HOLLIER: It's a little bit of both. There are things that Carina and I built that live all the way through and then once the story got up on its feet, discoveries were made with our new crop of people that we were like, "Oh, we're going to bend it this other way."

Jeanine, how is Liz doing in her new life in L.A. when we pick up this season?

MASON: Well, it's been a year and at this point, her life is actually pretty great. She just hasn't taken a second to acknowledge that. She's doing what she does best, which is just full head in her work and trying to figure out what she could use of her discoveries and her brilliance to save Maria. She has a great job, a really nice place, and an awesome partner at work who is a good time and a real match for her in terms of intellect and ambition. He begins to ask her to recognize that and to maybe give something a chance that she's been reluctant to because of how drawn she is to Roswell and to Max. It's a fun first episode. It's sexy. It's fun to find opportunities for her. She's our hero so she's got a lot on her shoulders and anytime where we can find levity for her is always a real treat for the writers and for me.

And no Crashdown waitress uniform must be nice?

MASON: Honestly, I miss it quite a lot right now. I have a note in my notes with Chris, I'm like, "I gotta tell him we gotta find him more opportunities for it."

Should Liz and Max shippers be worried about them finding their way back to one another after he destroyed her work and didn't follow her to L.A.? Should we resign ourselves to a season apart?

MASON: This season really is about these characters having themselves mirrored to each other. Max and Liz need some growing and ultimately they can't do anything but be orbiting each other. We found so many opportunities to have such a beautiful language around the cosmic element of their connection. They're asking, "Is this our decision, or are we just acting off of a decision that the cosmos made for us?" It was so fun to navigate that. I always have such a good time with Chris Hollier and with Nathan Dean, just finding the little tiny notches, a tiny bit of movement towards where they're going next. I really loved following them. It's my favorite Max and Liz season to date.

HOLLIER: It's not a season apart. I'll tease that they, in an unexpected way, end up in front of each other relatively soon. But it's really about when am I ready? And what does it mean to talk to my ex? When someone makes such a big influence in your life, when do you know it's over and when do you know you should fight again? We tried to give them real grown-up lives.

Steven Krueger (The Originals) also joined the cast as Heath this season. What can you tease about his character?

HOLLIER: He's just an awesome human being. I know him from The Originals and we were like, "If we're going to have to be stuck with people in the desert, who do we want?" You want to be stuck with a handsome and lovely and charming Steven Krueger. So really this was looking at, "Well, what did Liz want and what does it look like when you start to give Liz versions of what she wants?" Heath is somebody that is beyond being just a lovely person, he is smart and wants to advance science and that's appealing to Liz. It becomes, "What does it look like when the man that I hang around with all day is also into the same things that I am?" MASON: I love him. Heath is just such a fun, whip-smart, fantastic character. His humor was so fun. We've been having a good time with kicking the humor up really through season two and in season three, we just took it up another notch. There are some moments that are like, "Is this a drama or is it a sitcom?" Looking back on it, he was such a fun partner to spar with. They're both such intellectual characters and I love that there's a real meeting of the minds. It makes it competitive and sexy. I know a lot of fans are so excited because they know him from The Originals and he's going to be a great addition.

Technically, Mr. Jones is a new character too. Can you tell us anything at all about him?

HOLLIER: I'd say he's a new character — and a fully-fleshed interesting new character. Mr. Jones has an awesome beard. At some point, he might lose that beard. A lot of people are asking me, "Is Jones good or bad?" And what I would argue is that's a perspective based upon who you are in the conversation that you're having with him. He knows a lot about our heroes' story and he knows a lot about home. He'll be able to answer questions for them. This season our heroes will get to learn why they ended up here on earth. One of the things I think that people will love is that they're going to get to see that home planet this year. We asked ourselves a lot about this whole season, "What have we set up for the past two?" We look at these first three seasons almost like a trilogy so a lot of things are going to be paid off.

Has Nathan enjoyed pulling double duty this season? Or is he just exhausted?

MASON: He's exhausted, but he's such a champ. That really is the beginning of this mirroring thing that starts with Max and Jones with him actually getting to look at himself to a degree and those questions that come up. The self-analysis that it provokes in him is really the beginning of what is happening to all of our characters this year; everybody's being confronted with themselves. I loved that the Max/Jones of it was also a real sci-fi element.

Did he really grow that beard or was that not possible if he had to go between the two characters?

MASON: That was a prosthetic beard and our makeup team killed it. He was not accustomed to early mornings, which, of course, all of us babes are. It was a lot of extra time in the chair for him.

Can Jones dupe Liz into thinking he's actually Max since she doesn't know he exists?

MASON: You're totally on to something. It's a real and pressing threat. I mean, she's totally in the dark and he looks like her cosmic lover!

HOLLIER: What I will say is that, Liz — beyond her being number one on the call sheet — is integral to this story in a way that she and none of our characters are going to perceive when they start episode one. We're bringing [the characters] to a new crossroads moment in their lives and they're getting, through Jones, a mirror into their own lives to decide what they're going to become next.

How's Rosa (Amber Midthunder) doing this season?

MASON: By the end of season two, Rosa really makes the decision to start taking care of herself. She really becomes an incredible asset to the Scooby-Doo gang. It's something that Liz is in constant adjustment to. As much as she's the younger sister, she feels very protective of her sister and Liz has had to make adjustments in her trust and faith in Rosa. I loved it because it just felt like a real personal, authentic thing that sisters would go through, but also that Hispanic sisters would go through. I think we sometimes, culturally, have a tendency to baby our women — maybe that's the wrong word — but just to underestimate their physical ability and what they might take on, and sort of 'queen' our women in a way where we treat them tenderly. I hate that. I'm a tough bitch and so is Rosa. So Liz has to confront that and go, "I'm an idiot to underestimate you. You've done nothing but prove me wrong."

What about Maria and her visions?

HOLLIER: This year I think Maria has the most complete arc of any season, as she recognizes things about herself that cause more questions about who she is, who her family is, how she's linked to this story. We dive into it in the present-day and we dive deliciously back in time too.

In the exclusive clip above we see her have a vision of a funeral, can you tease anything about who potentially might be about to die?

HOLLIER: Maria is front and center in driving the first half of the mystery for us. She's burdened with trying to figure out whose death she is seeing. It takes a few episodes to unravel and we use it to ask, is this linked to our supernatural stories or real-world stories that are going on politically? Is it bad luck? Is it herself? There's a whole gambit at play. We joke that we solved a past murder, now we're going to try to stop one.

Can Malex (Michael and Alex) shippers have hope that this might finally be their time?

HOLLIER: What I would say is that I think that Malex fans are really going to dig this journey. We, as writers, put them at the same level of importance as Max and Liz. So we wanted to really honor the next step in what they may or may not be. How did they grow up and how did they have those hard conversations just like Liz and Max are going to have?

Is Isobel going to continue to date women this season?

HOLLIER: Isobel is going to go on a more personal journey. You got to love yourself before you can love someone else. We lean into those possibilities by the end of who she might love. It's not something that is dropped all season — it is something that you'll see. We play some romantic comedy stuff with her character this year and with Maria that I think fans are gonna dig. There's a lot going on in the world and wanted to pump some humor and hope into it.

Will see more of Liz fighting to challenge the perception of the Latinx community?

MASON: I think that just by nature of it being one of such few shows that are led by a Latin woman, it's always going to be, to an extent, a protest or an assertion of the space that I get to fill and that Liz Ortecho gets to fill on network TV. I was really excited to just have Chris as a collaborator. Over our hiatus, before the season started, I was doing a lot of reading. I chronicled the books that play into Liz every season on my Instagram. I was reading some Sonia Sotomayor. Her book is just incredible. I was texting him screenshots of pages of the book with things underlined. Ten episodes deep into season 3, he's like, "Remember that page you sent me?" He's a real dream collaborator. I loved him for that. A pressing struggle for people of color is going through the ranks in these big corporations and then sometimes coming to find out that those corporations are purporting to support marginalized groups but actually aren't following through. So how do you, as someone who's having your success, your dreams become reality, navigate supporting the company and giving so much of your intelligence and your work — that they often legally own, especially with science — to a company that isn't going to be for your people?

Roswell, New Mexico returns Monday at 8 p.m. on The CW.

[thetravelerwrites]

Courtship of the Headless King: Chapter Two

Rating: General Audiences Fandoms: 忘却の首と姫 | Boukyaku no Shirushi to Hime | The Princess and The Forgotten Head Relationship: Female Human/Male Headless King Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Political Marriage, Power Dynamic, Headless King Content Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Abductions Words: 4448

Lilya conducts her marriage interview with His Majesty. Please reblog and leave feedback!

There was a tense moment in which no one moved. The triplets and the king’s attendants watched apprehensively as Lilya stood there, taking in the sight she was seeing. Slowly, she took a step forward, and then another, and stopped right in front of the desk.

“Does that hurt?” Lilya asked softly.

The king actually took a small step backward, clearly not expecting this. For a moment, no one knew how to react to her question. After a minute of heavy silence, His Majesty picked up a pad of paper that lay on the desk in front of him and began to write.

~No, it doesn’t hurt.~

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Lilya said, placing a hand over her heart. “I’ve seen people lose their heads before; it always looked like it hurt terribly.”

The king began to write again. ~You were present during such barbaric acts?~

Lilya nodded shakily. “The royal family in Tritsia was captured during the war and were forced to witness many terrible things. Able-bodied countrymen were rounded up and executed en masse in a horrible show of power, even if they were just farmers or merchants. We were made to watch them all.”

All five attendants exchanged looks of horror.

~That must have been harrowing. How old were you when this happened?~

“It started when I was ten, after my father was killed, and carried on until Couliea claimed our land for themselves three years ago. I helped dig a fair number graves during that time.”

~How old are you now?~

“Nineteen, Your Majesty,” Lilya said.

Conversation died briefly, but after a moment, the king began to write again.

~Would you like to sit down?~

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Lilya said. Raba brought a chair for her and she took a seat. His Majesty waved his hand, and all five of the attendants bowed and left the room, closing the door behind them. Peridot winked at them as she exited.

~Are you not afraid of me?~ His Majesty asked.

“Not really, no,” Lilya replied. “After all that’s happened, I’m not afraid of very much anymore. Should I be scared?”

~This meeting marks three thousand, six hundred and sixty-two marriage interviews that I’ve conducted. You are the first and only woman who has seen me and not screamed, run, fainted, vomited, burst into hysterics, or begged me to let them go, fearful that I’d eat them or some other nonsense.~

“How awful. I couldn’t imagine someone treating you so cruelly. Why would they even come if they didn’t want to?”

~Pressure from their families. The political gain of a union with Banfarie would be a boon to any country on the continent. The appeal of that power and influence drives people to do things they don’t want to do. Either the women would cry hysterically and run away, or they would swallow their disgust and force themselves to conduct the interviews as if it were normal, all the while looking as if the idea of marrying me made them sick.~

“That was terribly rude of them,” Lilya replied, incensed.

His Majesty’s shoulders shook slightly, and Lilya thought he might be laughing.

~In all fairness to them, I am unusual and a little frightening.~

“That’s no excuse! So what if you’re a bit different? That’s no reason to make such a fuss. How would they like it if people acted that way around them? I know my feelings would be hurt. They should have been more considerate.”

His Majesty was completely still for a full minute. Lilya was beginning to wonder if he was alright, when he started to write again.

~You’re rather unusual, aren’t you?~

Lilya laughed good-naturedly. “I suppose so.” She looked at the paper and pen in his hand thoughtfully. “It must be difficult for you to communicate sometimes. I know most people of royal or noble birth are required to learn to read and write, but even in a prosperous nation like this one, many people are illiterate. Do you have trouble communicating with your staff?”

He moved his shoulders in such a way that it put Lilya in mind of someone shaking their head.

~No, since most of my staff are made up of fairies and spirits, my magic allows me to communicate telepathically with them. If needed, they can convey my thoughts to others.~

“Oh, I see! That’s how you spoke to Raba when the door was closed.”

~Yes.~

“Do you know any of the signing languages? Perhaps we could talk that way.”

His Majesty visibly perked up and began gesturing.

“Oh! No, I’m sorry, I don’t know the signing languages, I just meant that I’d be willing to learn it so that we could communicate easier with each other.”

He stopped signing, but he didn’t seem disappointed. Rather the opposite, he seemed touched.

~You’d be willing to learn an entire language just to be able to talk to me?~

“Well, yes. After all, if you accept me, I’d also need to learn this country’s native language to talk to the citizens. Adding another language to my curriculum wouldn’t be so bad.” She leaned forward a little, and His Majesty leaned back, as if intimidated. “This may be an impertinent question and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but may I ask how you lost your head?”

~It’s alright. I removed it myself.~

Lilya looked both horrified and impressed. “Whatever for?”

He paused for a moment before writing again, and this time he wrote out an extended statement.

~I was the son of a concubine who died during my birth. Apparently, I resembled her very much and did not take after my father, the king, at all. The queen’s children, my half-siblings, bullied me relentlessly, often questioning the legitimacy of my birth and whether or not I was indeed my father’s son. They spread rumors about me and my mother, which eventually got back to my father. He also began to question my birthright and threatened to send me into exile. In anger, I somehow managed to pry off my own head and throw it into the Aurora. I think I’d meant to end my own life, but I survived somehow. When my father saw this display of my magical power, he reversed his position and put me first in line for the throne, even though he had four sons by the queen who were all older than me. I was crowned king the following year, and the year after, my father passed away.~

“How old where you when you became king?”

~Twenty-two.~

“How old are you now?”

~One hundred and sixty years old.~

Lilya’s eyes widened in shock.

~Does my age upset you?~

“No, not at all, it’s just…” She frowned in sympathy but fell silent. It must be lonely to have lived alone for so long, she thought to herself.

~I have not aged since I lost my head. I think the magic of the Aurora is what keeps me alive.~

“That’s incredible,” Lilya breathed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.”

~My family has always been strange.~

Lilya chuckled a little. “How are you able to see and hear without a head?”

~Magic. It’s hard to explain to in simple terms, but I don’t see or hear in the same way as normal humans. It’s more of a perception of the wavelengths created by light, shadow, and sound by my whole body instead of my head. I can perceive those sensations similarly to true sight and hearing, but it’s not quite the same.~

“That’s fascinating,” She said, leaning closer. “May I ask you something else that might be a little personal?”

He seemed to laugh again. ~More so than you have already done? Please do.~

“You’ve only been conducting marriage interviews for the last sixty years, right? That means you had already been ruling for almost eighty years without a queen. Why did you suddenly start looking for a wife?”

~My attendants began to pressure me to marry and sire an heir.~

“Is that the only reason?”

~What other reason would there be?~

“Weren’t you lonely?”

His Majesty’s hands were motionless and he seemed to be thinking.

~Perhaps.~

Then he fell still again, as if he didn’t know what else to say.

Lilya smiled a little. “You don’t enjoy these interviews, do you, my Lord?”

He gave another shoulder-shake of laughter. ~No, not at all. I believe this may have been the longest conversation I’ve had with a human woman in my entire life.~

“Oh, goodness,” Lilya said, holding a hand to her mouth in surprise. “I hope I haven’t bored you, my Lord.”

~Not in the slightest. This has been surprisingly pleasant.~

“Oh good,” She said, relieved.

~You’ve asked me a fair number of questions. May I ask you something in return?~

“Of course, My Lord.”

~What is one thing you wish for more than anything?~

Lilya looked out of the far window and thought about the question. She had never spent much time wishing for anything, knowing that wishes did little to affect reality. After all, she had wished for her father back numerous times, and for the terrible atrocities committed against her country to stop, and that had never happened. The only thing she really wished for was the safety of her people, but how could she achieve that?

“Walls,” She said suddenly.

~Walls?~

“The borders of my homeland have no defenses. People from outside the kingdom come in and steal food, destroy crops, take livestock, and even abduct people right out of the fields, and we have nothing to stop them. My land grows smaller every day because people just come in and take whatever they like, whenever they like. I wish we could do more to protect ourselves, but we have no military or security forces. Walls would be just as effective as guards, perhaps more so.”

You care very much about your home and people, at your own expense, it seems.

“Yes,” Lilya said, clutching the pendant on her neck. “I… I sold the tiara you sent to me so that I could feed the people affected by a famine on our southern border. It was a lovely gift and I was quite touched by it, Peridot even took this jewel off for me to keep,” She pulled it up to show him. “But… my people needed food more than I needed a crown. I hope you won’t be too disappointed in me, but… I didn’t want to lie or mislead you.”

~I see. He sat quietly, as if in thought. Very well. It will be done. I’ll have construction teams sent out to Tritsia right away.~

Lilya looked up in shock. “Wha… You’re Majesty! I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…”

~I know you didn’t. It is my gift to you for your understanding and patience. This has been one of the most enjoyable mornings I’ve had in many years. That alone is worth giving you some peace of mind.~ 

He stood up and made for the door. Overwhelmed by his generosity and on the verge of tears, Lilya jumped out of her chair as his Majesty passed her.

“I’ll marry you!”

His Majesty stopped dead in his tracks and turned. He hadn’t brought the paper with him so he couldn’t respond, but he was rooted to the spot as if frozen.

“This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me or my people. How could I possibly refuse?”

This spurred him to action. He walked briskly back to the desk and wrote on the notepad.

~I didn’t do it to buy your cooperation,~ He protested. ~It’s only a gift, nothing more. I expected for us to continue the interview after I made the arrangements. You don’t have to accept because you feel obligated to repay me.~

“No, that’s not it at all!” Lilya protested. “I don’t know what all those women saw when they looked at you, but it can’t be the same thing I see.”

~What is it that you see?~

She took a deep breath and attempt to gather her thoughts into a coherent fashion. “Maybe when they saw you, you reminded them of a storm that covered the sky at night, full of destructive power, and it made them afraid. But… all I can see when I look at you is what’s behind the storm.”

~Which is?~

“You’re the stars, not the storm. Your Majesty, you’re the light that shines when the storm passes.” She shook her head and laid it in her hands, unable to keep her overwhelmed tears from spilling. “Oh, I don’t even know if I’m making sense. But, Your Majesty, please believe me when I tell you that I don’t just want to marry you because I feel as if I’m in your debt, even though I most certainly am in your debt. I want to marry you because… I… I just do! I don’t even know how to explain it properly. I just… I would be happy to be your wife and honored to be your queen. If that’s what you want.”

~Wouldn’t you be happier marrying a normal man?~

“My Lord, I had no thoughts of marrying at all before I received your summons. If I did marry, it would most likely have been someone my family chose for me. With you, I get a choice. And I’ve chosen you.”

Slowly, he wrote, ~Are you sure?~

“Yes, I’m certain.”

~Then why are you crying?~

“Because I’m happy,” She replied, her voice shuddering as she laughed.

He held out his hand to her. ~You truly mean this? You’re accepting the proposal?~

“Yes,” She replied, taking his hand. “I’ll marry you right now if you want.”

He seemed to chuckle. ~It is enough that you said yes freely and without reservation. I am pleased.~

He turned toward the door, and it flew open after a moment, and all five of the attendants stood there with their mouths hanging open, staring at the pair holding hands. He must have told them the good news telepathically.

“Sire, congratulations!” Larima said. “It’s about time one of these women saw sense!”

“Larima, hold you’re tongue!” Aquamarine said, boxing one of his ears.

“His Majesty says that the wedding will have to be soon,” Raba told Lilya. “He regrets to have to rush it, but there is a political upheaval brewing to the west that he must take care of. He honestly hadn’t expected you to accept, so he hadn’t canceled his plans to intervene.”

“That’s quite alright,” Lilya said, grinning a little giddily. I can’t believe it! I’m really getting married! “I understand his Majesty must be terribly busy. I don’t mind if the wedding is soon. Oh!” She turned back to the king. “Can my family attend the wedding? I promised that I’d keep in touch with them, and I’d like them to meet you. Would that be alright?”

“He says that would be fine, except he’s worried that your family will not like him, which doesn’t normally bother him, but that it may cause trouble for you,” Raba said.

“It’s fine, I’ll explain everything to them. Thank you, Your Majesty!”

Lilya threw her arms around His Majesty’s waist, hugging him. He went completely still and his body tensed under hers, as if he were at the mercy of a pack of rabid dogs. Lilya, sensing his discomfort, released him immediately.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep! I was just so excited that I acted without thinking.”

If a headless person could gulp, His Majesty would have done so. He straightened his lace collar and waved his hand.

“He says it’s alright, he was just startled,” Peridot said. “He also says that as his chosen queen, your word is equal to his. You may give any order you wish and the staff with follow it without hesitation.”

“I understand, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

He bowed deeply in response, his arm across his chest as a show of respect.

Peridot clapped her hands eagerly. “Come now, princess! There’s much to do to get ready for the wedding and only a short amount of time to do it!”

The triplets led Lilya from the room, tittering happily. Once the door closed behind them, the king fell into a chair as if exhausted.

She’s like a whirlwind, He said to Raba and Larima. I am completely at her mercy.

“I’ve never seen you like this, My Lord,” Raba said. “She must have made one hell of a first impression.”

That is an understatement. Send a letter to her family inviting them to the wedding. It’ll make her happy to see them.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Larima said. “But… are you sure she’s the one? In all these years, after all those interviews, are you sure you’ve found your queen?”

It’s her; I knew it the moment I saw her, the second I heard her voice.

“The second she didn’t scream, you mean, sire?” Larima said. Raba flicked him in the forehead.

I’ve spent sixty years�� no, much longer than that, looking for her. I’m not going to wait anymore. Begin preparations for the wedding immediately.

“Yes, My Lord.”

It took only a week for the preparations to be complete, seeing as the wedding would be a small affair. His Majesty said he would give Lilya any kind of wedding she wanted, no matter the expense, but she said all she wanted was for her family to be there and nothing else. All that was left now was to wait for Lilya’s family to arrive.

She hadn’t seen his Majesty since the interview, but she knew he had to have been incredibly busy. He was the monarch of a vast empire, after all, and he genuinely didn’t think he’d be getting married so soon.

A day before her family was due to arrive, a dress appeared in her quarters. It was gorgeous; a white, princess cut ball gown with a sheer layer of silk over the top painted with pink roses. The neckline was a low square-cut and it had half-sleeves with lace frills. On top of the mannequin holding it was a lace veil that trailed the ground and glittered as though it was woven from diamonds.

“Oh, how beautiful!” Lilya said. “Is this for me?”

“Yes, it’s your wedding gown,” Aquamarine said. “His Majesty had it sent down for a fitting.”

“It’s lovely,” She breathed, daring to reach out and touch the fabric, though it looked so delicate that it might disintegrate under her fingertips.

“Here, let us help you,” Garnet said, beginning to untie the laces.

Garnet, Aquarmarine, and Peridot assisted Lilya in putting the dress on. Though it fit like a glove around the waist, the skirt was just slightly too long. The sisters assured her it was a quick and easy fix.

That night, she was alone in her room looking at the dress, newly tailored and ready to be worn, and began to get anxious.

“What if I trip and tear it?” She fretted. “A dress like this couldn’t have been made in just a few days, no matter how many seamstresses worked on it; The lace on the train alone would have taken months to tat. It must be some kind of imperial heirloom. What would I do if I destroyed it? Would His Majesty be angry or cancel the wedding? What if he decides he doesn’t want a klutz for a wife?” Lilya scrubbed her face and sighed forcefully. “I need some air.”

She went to the long gable windows and unlatched one side, letting it swing open. The night air was cool and refreshing, and the aroma of the nearby gardens was soothing.

As she was about to close the window again, a wild gust of wind rushed in and caught up the veil, blowing it out of the window.

“No!” Lilya yelled, throwing her foot out of the window and jumping to the ground. It was a good thing her room was on the ground floor. She chased the veil across the lawn until it eventually got caught in the branches of a tree.

“Oh, come on!” She groused. The branched were too high for her to reach, so she was going to have to climb the tree in her nightgown to get it back. It didn’t help that there were no low branches for her to grab on, so she was basically going to have to shimmy up the trunk. How dignified.

“Okay,” She said, taking a breath before she started up. One foot, one hand, over and over. It seemed to take ages, and when she looked down, it was as if she hadn’t moved at all. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have stopped working in the stables. I have no core strength anymore.”

She was nearly at the lower-most branch when her foot slipped and she lost her grip, falling from the tree. She expected to hit the ground pretty hard, but she fell onto something soft. Looking around, she realized to her horror that His Majesty,  was on his back underneath her, having broken her fall. He was dressed in a casual white buttoned-up shirt and simple black slacks, likely his sleepwear.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry!” She said, scrambling to get off of him. “Are you alright?”

He pulled out a small pad of paper from the inside of his shirt and a fountain pen.

~I’m fine. Are you alright? Why were you climbing a tree at this hour?~

“My veil,” She replied, pointing at the branches. “It flew out of the window. I was trying to get it back down.”

~Why didn’t you call the sisters?~

She laughed a little self-consciously. “I panicked. I was scared that I’d tear it and you’d be upset with me.”

~I wouldn’t be upset over such a trivial thing. It’s just a piece of fabric.~

“How did you know I was out here?”

~I saw you from the window of my suite. I was worried you would hurt yourself or that you were running away.~

She was a little alarmed. “Were you chasing me down to bring me back?”

~No, I was going to watch over you until you got somewhere safe. Don’t worry, you’re free to change your mind at any time. I wouldn’t hold that against you.~

“Oh,” She said, surprised. “Your Majesty, I have no intention on going back on my decision. I meant it when I said I’m happy to be your bride. You feel the same, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and easily reached the branch with the veil. He was quite a bit taller than she was. Pulling it down carefully, he folded it and handed it back to her.

“Sorry to have caused you trouble,” She said, worried by his silence. “I’m afraid you’re bride-to-be is a little clumsy.”

~It’s nothing. Let’s go back.~ He held out his hand for her to stand up, and she took it, feeling sad.

He doesn’t want to marry me, She thought. He’s just doing it because I’m the only one who didn’t refuse him. I like him very much, but he doesn’t feel anything for me. That’s not fair to him.

The triplets met them back at the castle and escorted her back to her room. His Majesty left her in their care with a bow and went back to his quarters.

“Just call us next time, My Lady!” Garnet said. “His Majesty would be devastated if anything happened to you.”

“He might be inconvenienced, but I think devastated might be too strong a word,” She said. “He doesn’t even really want to marry me, he just thinks he has to.”

Peridot scoffed. “Why on earth would you think such a thing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m just the only person who accepted. I’ve only seen him once since the marriage interview, and that’s because he was rescuing me from a fall. He doesn’t really want to be with me.”

“My Lady, that’s absurd, of course he wants to marry you!”

“How can you be sure?”

“Look,” Aquamarine said as they reached her room. She opened the door and lay the veil back on the mannequin with the dress. “You see this? Where do you think it came from?”

“It’s an heirloom, right? Something that’s been in the royal family forever? It couldn’t have been made just for me, there wasn’t enough time for that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Garnet said. “His Majesty himself made this gown for you.”

“He did?” Lilya exclaimed, looking more carefully at the gown.

“Yes, with his magic. Do you know what he said to us when we were waiting outside of the office door after you agreed to marry him?”

“What?”

“’She said yes!’ he said. Every interview before always ended the same. He would tell us, ‘I don’t like her’ or ‘she’s lying’ or ‘she looks like she’s going to pass out, take her back to her room and let her go home’ or ‘why do they keep sending these women with dirty souls to me?’ He always sounded so dejected. But when you accepted, he was so excited. I’ve never heard him sound so happy.”

“Miss Lilya, you must understand,” Peridot said. “His Majesty’s mother died when he was born, and he was raised by nurses. In truth, he grew up never knowing the love of another person. Now as a man, he has no idea how to express affection for others. Until now, it’s never come up as a problem, but he sincerely wants you to be happy.” She pointed at the dress as an example, and then to the pad of paper on her desk. “You see those notebooks?”

“Yes?”

“Ordinarily, those would only be in one place: and His Majesty’s office, since that is the only place His Majesty meets with people who can’t hear him telepathically. But now, every single room in the castle has a notebook, just in case you’d like to talk to him. He’s doing everything he knows how to do to make it comfortable and easy for you, he’s just operating outside of his, admittedly, vast expertise. Give him some time. He’s very intelligent, if a little dense and insensitive. He’ll learn.”

Lilya smiled softly, touched. “I had no idea.” She pulled the sisters in for a hug. “You’re right, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. His Majesty and I don’t know each other well, for all that we’ll be married in a few days. I think when he gets back from the diplomatic trip, we should spend time rectifying that.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Aquamarine said.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[roses-ruby]

BTS as types of Yandere

Warning: Yandere themes, Abusive relationships, Psychological manipulation, Selfharm, Submission, BDSM mention

The Gentleman.

Seokjin is the perfect man.

Sure, he acts goofy but he’s also handsome and polite. He jokes around with you, he cooks for you, he doesn’t even befriend other women and he’s even a big romantic at heart. Your friends want him and your parents adore him - you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend! So, in return, when he kindly asks you not to talk to other men or not to go out too much, it’s only natural that you listen. You taunt him about his slightly conservative and traditionalist nature. But what kind of a man who was raised with high standards and morals wouldn’t have one? When he tells you not to wear something in public - you don’t fucking wear it. When he tells you you’re going to be a stay at home mom - then that’s the end of the fucking discussion. And if you disobey him, then you deserve to be verbally berated until you change your mind. People call it abuse, but he calls it love. Trust him, he only has your best interest at heart. It’s the only way you’ll learn to obey your man and gain value as a female.

It’s the only way you’ll become his perfect woman.

Lowkey.

You never expected a grown man to be so whiny, especially not one who seemed so intimidating initially. “You were gone too long.” - “Why do you have to leave so often?” - “Who were you with?” - Holy shit, the way he was bombarding you with questions made you feel like you just came back from committing a statewide murder spree, even though you were only gone grocery shopping for approximately thirty minutes. But it’s fine, your husband was harmless. It was definitely strange being married to a rapper. You heard most of their true feelings and inner thoughts only came out when they wrote or performed. So it did worry you when he wrote a song about binding you in a cage and keeping you chained like his little pet. But you passed it off as kinks or some shit. And it definitely worried you when he freestyled about torturing and killing your guy best friend in graphic detail on stage, which ultimately led to said friend cutting off all contact with you. But you passed it off as adrenaline-filled, in-the-moment jealousy. Sure, Yoongi was either testy or silent for the majority of your relationship - but that didn’t mean the “real him” was a temperamental and obsessive psychopath.

...did it?

My way or the highway.

Hoseok made his standards clear for you since day one. This relationship will go by his terms, and only his terms. Which meant he got to go out whenever he wanted, yet you never did. He got to touch you when he felt like it, yet you had to ask permission. He got to have female friends, yet you didn’t get to have any - of any gender. You’ll understand one day, he tells you, but you think years will pass before that time arrives, because the truth was you didn’t and might never truly understand him. It terrified you how Hoseok, the friendliest, most carefree man you’ve ever met, can turn into someone so menacing. Someone who threatens your well-being when even the slightest part of his rule is broken. A section of him was detached, while the other section was a pure freak. All of his punishments were sexual, from bondage to torture. Sometimes you think he punished you on purpose just so he could teach you your place. You’re not sure if he had an addiction to total domination or if he just craved mummification and impact play.

All you know is that he had certain habits, and they all happen to revolve around you.

Daddy.

You roll up the door to your room.

Namjoon knew everything. At least that’s what it seems like. He was the smartest guy in your city - actually no - the smartest guy in your whole country. No other man could ever compete with the intellect and raw talent he possessed. You greatly admired him - which he also knew, of course. The one thing he understood the most in the world was you. He memorized your habits, every inch of your curves, the moles in your skin and even the pattern of your breath. He told you when to eat, when to sleep, who to [not] meet, and what to do for the day. Your needs had never been fulfilled to such an extent until he appeared by your side. And you knew then that no one could understand you better than him - not even yourself, which is why you took his words for scripture. Since then, you’ve done everything he told you to do without question. Crawling into your room, you turn around and roll the cage door back down before settling into one of the cushions in the corner.

It was almost 7, which meant daddy would be home soon, and then you could eat.

Kerosene in my hand.

Today in psychology class you had learned about psychological manipulation. You didn’t want to think like this, but the definition of the word reminded you of your boyfriend. Like when the professor talked about using underhand tactics to change social perceptions, you thought about the time Jimin kept flirting with your best friend until she fell for him, even while knowing you liked him. It led you to completely ostracize her from your life. Or when the teacher mentioned using deceit and lies to influence the thoughts of others, it made you remember the time Jimin told you about the things people were saying behind your back until you lost trust in everyone but him. Somehow, the whole ordeal of being gaslit really resonated with you, and you’re not even sure why. Jimin only did these things to protect you from others, you reason. You shouldn’t think like that - not when Jimin is the only person in this world who cares for you. Regretting what you just did, you beat yourself in the head with your fists in dismay. What kind of horrible person thinks these lies about the person who loves them more than anything?

The pain from your head and heart surrounded you in an agonizing heat as you began to cry, sitting down on your bed to text Jimin. You wanted him to come over, you wanted to tell him what you did and you wanted him to forgive you, so you could forgive yourself. He’d be able to tell your bad thoughts to go away, he’d be able to make you feel safe again. Jimin was right all along - the only thing you ever needed was him.

Artist at heart.

“Say ah~”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh my! Doll, you’re too pretty to be cursing.” Taehyung replies with a gasp, feigning shock as he places the caviar back on his plate. You roll your eyes and scoff. It’s usually a good thing if your boyfriend treats you like a priceless artifact, right? Well, not for you. Not when your boyfriend can actually place a price on you. $10,000 to be exact - $10,000 to a random thug so he could break the arms of the man who asked you for your number in the coffee shop.

“I heard about the man you hired, Tae. How many times will I tell you I’m not an object?”

“Everyone’s an object, doll.” Taehyung smirks, casually wiping his mouth with a linen napkin, “Some are just more...costly than others.”

You stare at the unbothered man in annoyance. His whole room was filled with original paintings, marbled statues, golden gadgets and silver trinkets. And in between it all, you had also started to feel like one of his art displays with the way he dressed you silk and bathed you in luxury - refusing to let others sully you by their dirty looks or touches. But then again, it isn’t too bad, you think as he brings the caviar and cream up to your lips yet again. He never hurts you - he’s never even raised his voice at you. You’re too precious for that, he says. And well, at least you’d never get injured or feel lonely with all the love and care he gives his possessions. So, with a sigh, you bite into the dessert he was offering you and watch him break out into a boxy grin.

He wasn’t so bad - just a little artist at heart.

Baby Boy?

(Are we surprised? No)

Your boyfriend was an enigma. Baby-faced, but with the body of Apollo. But he wasn’t just physically confusing. You had a hard time understanding him mentally as well. For one, he’d sternly tell you to do something but then get all teary-eyed if you dared say no. Then there were times where he’d swear he wasn’t jealous but he’d become green, red and purple at the mere mention of a guy in your life. In bed, he always preferred to be on top but the slightest pressure you applied turned him into a crying and whining bottom. You just didn’t get him, but it was definitely fun to press his buttons. It never occurred to you just how much you might enjoy making a tall-ass, jacked man into a whimpering and pouting mess, but you definitely enjoyed it nonetheless. Other girls would kill to be in your place, you were just so lucky. Everyday you’d get braver with your tests, whether it was flirting with other men or wearing skimpy outfits. His jealousy was endearing and his possessiveness made you squeal with glee. The bolder you became with your crusades, the more you failed to realize that everyone had their limit. And once they’re pushed past it, the consequences can be jarring. Especially if they’re someone as mysterious as Jungkook.

Then again, there was no better way to find out then to try. So keep trying him...just so we can see how lucky you truly are.

_

A/N: I’m back I think? This is for the rock anon, I hope you like it doll ;). anyway i wrote it in an hour and i was telling myself not to make it basic and sht readers read like 100 times in this tag but whaddya know i failed. lmk what you think cause i need a compliment.❤

[qqueenofhades]

Having just sent you a message the other day about how much I love your historical asks, I realized I have a question myself that you might know the answer to. I’m a Christian and I have never been able to figure out why Christianity has historically viewed non-procreative sex for pleasure as bad. (And none of my family, including my clergy father, have figured it out either. I think my dad has a bone to pick with Augustine? And I feel like Aquinas also has something to do with this.) But given that Jesus had a body and gives a speech about “the Son of Man came eating and drinking” as though he enjoyed it, how did this whole “the body is sinful especially the sex part” thing happen? I have been thinking about this a lot recently for Old Guard reasons, which should surprise no one.

Oof. So, a short and simple question, then. (Sidenote: did they expand ask limits? Because I’ve definitely gotten a couple asks today, including this one, that are longer than usual, rather than forced to space out and hope that Tumblr doesn’t eat them.)

The entire history of sexuality in the West and its relationship with Christianity throughout the centuries is obviously a topic that far, far exceeds anything I could possibly cram into this ask, but let’s see if I can hit on some of the highlights. First off, one could remark that some aspects of Jesus’s teaching managed to disappear from the official doctrine of Christianity almost immediately, and for a variety of theological, cultural, and social reasons. As anyone who has a passing knowledge of the late Roman Empire is aware, they were known for being sexually liberate (at least if you were a nobleman, as the freedom certainly did NOT apply to women), and the notorious run of emperors who were having orgies and sleeping with boys and their sisters and hosting nonstop sex parties did a lot to sour early Christianity’s relationship with it. Because pre-Constantine/Theodosian Code Rome was Christianity’s enemy (since Christians refused to perform the traditional civic sacrifices to the Roman gods, which was all that Rome required alongside permitting its citizens to practice whatever other religion they wanted), and because the emperors were such a high-profile example of sexual excess, that became an easy point of critique. Obviously, the Roman polemicists, like every other historian, should not be trusted on EVERYTHING they say about the emperors, but the general pattern is there and well-established. So Christianity, trying to establish its religious and moral bona fides, can easily go, “Well, Caligula/Nero obviously sucks, come join us and live a purer and more moral life!”

Constantine converted in the early fourth century and the Theodosian Code was issued at the end of the fourth century, which made Rome officially Catholic and represented a huge reversal of fortune for fledgling Christianity, helping it expand like crazy now that it was officially sanctioned. However, the Roman Empire was splitting into two halves, west and east, and the development of Greek Christianity in the eastern empire was strongly influenced by ascetic and austere traditions (if you’ve heard of the Stylites, i.e. the guys who liked to sit atop poles out in the Syrian desert to prove how holy they were, those are them). The cultural context of denial of the flesh and the renouncing of bodily pleasures also played intensely into the third/fourth/fifth century debates over heresy and orthodoxy. Some of the most vicious arguments came over whether Jesus Christ could have actually had an embodied (and therefore possibly inherently sinful) human body, or it was just a complicated illusion, the “shell” of a body that his entirely divine nature then inhabited without actually being part of. This involved huge theological arguments over the redemptive nature of the Eucharist and even Christ’s sacrifice: was it real/effective/genuine if he didn’t REALLY die and suffer the pain of being crucified, and was just assured that he’d be fine ahead of time? So yeah, the question of whether Christ had a real body (because then that might be sinful) was the knock-down, drag-out theological disagreement of the early centuries C.E., and left a lot of hard feelings and entrenched positions in its wake.

Likewise, your dad is correct in having a bone to pick with Augustine, at least in terms of his impact on views of sexuality in the late antique and early medieval Christian church. Augustine is obviously famous for agonizing endlessly over his sexuality/sexual urges in Confessions, his time as a Manichaean, his relationship with a woman and the birth of his son out of wedlock (and if you want a lot of repressed homoeroticism: well, Augustine’s got that too) and how his conversion to Christianity was intensely tied with his renunciation of himself as a sexual being. Augustine also pioneered the nature of the inheritance of Original Sin: therefore, every human who was born was sinful by virtue of sharing in humanity’s legacy from Eve’s transgression in the Garden of Eden. (And yes, obviously, this led to the beginnings of the embedding of clerical and social misogyny. Oh Augustine, I kind of hate you anyway because I had to read the entire goddamn 1000-page City of God during my master’s degree, but bro, you got a lot to answer for.) This involved EVEN MORE obscure speculations about whether original sin was passed down in male semen, and therefore Jesus was free of it because he was supposedly born divinely to a woman without a male father, but yeah, the idea that sexuality itself was already a suspect thing was fairly well correlated and then cemented by Augustine’s HUGE influence over the early church. Everything post-Augustine incorporated his ideas somehow, and so the idea of bodily pleasures as separating you from divine purpose got even more established.

Then we had the Carolingians in the eighth and ninth centuries, who were the first “empire” per se in Western Europe post-Rome, and who were also intensely concerned with legislating moral purity, policing the sexual behavior especially of its queens, and correlating moments of political or military defeat with insufficiently virtuous private behavior. The Carolingians likewise passed these ideas onto their successor kingdoms, especially the medieval kingdom of France (which would eventually become the pre-eminent secular power in Western Europe). Then the eleventh century arrived with the Cluniac and Gregorian Reforms (which were interrelated). One of their big goals was for a celibate and unmarried clergy on all levels of holy orders, from humble village priests to bishops and archbishops. Prior to this, clergymen had often been married, and there wasn’t a definite sense that it was bad. But because of this, and the idea that a married clergyman wasn’t pure enough to provide the Eucharist and would be distracted from his commitment to the church by a wife and family, the Cluniac and papal reformers intensely attacked sex and sexuality as evil. Priests didn’t (or rather, were not supposed to) do it, and if you weren’t in a heterosexual church-performed marriage and didn’t want children, you shouldn’t be doing it either. (Did this stop people, and priests, from doing it? Absolutely not, but that was the rhetoric.) This was about when celibacy began to be constructed as the top of the heap in terms of holy lifestyles, for men and women alike and laypeople as well as those in holy orders. NOT having sex was the most virtuous choice for anyone, even if sex was a necessary evil for having heirs and the next generation and so on. (Which is interesting considering that our hypersexualized present attaches so much value to having sex of one sort or another, and the asexual-exclusion types, but yeah, that’s a different topic for now.)

Of course, when the Cathars (a schismatic Catholic heresy in France and Italy) in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries began attacking ALL materiality and sexuality as irredeemably evil, the Catholic church went a bit like “whoa whoa that’s a little too far, hold on now, SOME sex is good, sex can be nice, we’re not actually like those guys” (even though they had been about a hundred years before). Because Cathar spirituality taught that any kind of attention or indulgence to the body was sinful, that included any kind of sex at all, even married heterosexual intercourse. (Of course, the Cathars themselves didn’t always live up to it either; see Beatrice de Planissoles and her Cathar priest lover.) The Catholic church obviously didn’t want to go THAT far, so they began rowing back some of their earlier blanket statements about the evilness of sexuality and taught that husband and wife both had a responsibility to offer each other sexual pleasure and fulfillment. I’ve answered many asks about sexual behavior and unions in the medieval era, the arguments over the definition of marriage, and how that changed over time in response to social needs and pressures, so yes. We know what the IDEALS were, and what people were legally supposed to do, but the fact that church writers were complaining about bad behavior, sexual and otherwise, literally the whole time means that, obviously, this did not always match up with reality.

The theories of the Roman physician Galen, which prescribed that female orgasm was necessary to conceive, were also well known and prevalent in the medieval world, which meant that ordinary married couples trying to have children would have had some awareness that female pleasure was supposedly necessary to do it. (This ties into my “it wasn’t an unrestrained extravaganza of violent painful rape for women all the time YOU GODDAMN MORONS JESUS CHRIST” rant, but we will recognize that I have Many Rants. So yes.) Obviously, we can’t know what the sex life of individual married couples behind closed doors was actually like, but there were a variety of teachings and official stances on sex and how it was supposed to be done, and as noted in other posts, just because the church thought it is zero guarantee that ordinary people thought that way too. People are people. They (usually) like having sex. They had sex, both gay and straight, married and unmarried, so on and so forth, even if the church had Opinions. Circle of life, etcetera.

Anyway, then the Renaissance arrived (and we just had the “why the Renaissance sucked for women” ask the other day), which prescribed a reversal of all the comparative sexual and political and social latitude that women had gradually acquired over the medieval era. It very much wanted to see women returned to their silent, domestic, maternal, objet d’arte roles that they had occupied in antiquity, and attacked the actions of women in their public and private lives as one of the major causes of the crises of the late medieval era. (Because you know, misogyny is always a useful scapegoat rather than blaming the powerful men who have fucked everything up, as we’re seeing again right now.) Because the Renaissance is regarded, fairly or unfairly, as the start of the early modern Western world, it’s where a lot of modern gender attitudes and views of sexuality became more explicitly codified and distributed faster than at any point in history before, to a more extensive audience, thanks to the invention of the printing press. We’ve obviously had moves toward sexual liberation and agency in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and the emergence of the modern feminist and gay rights movements, but now in some ways, we’re back in oddly Puritan attitudes in the twenty-first century. And since America was founded by Puritans, their social attitudes are still embedded in the culture, fanned today by hyper-conservative Protestant evangelicalism. Even though Puritans themselves ALSO, shock surprise, didn’t always live up to the stringent standards they preached.

...whoof. I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but hopefully that gives you the broad-strokes development.

[kingstylesdaily]

Stevie Nicks Answers All Our Questions About Harry Styles

Of all the disciples to worship at the altar of Stevie Nicks, none have managed to capture the attention of rock’s reigning priestess quite like Harry Styles.

The 26-year-old rocker (who this week received three Grammy nominations) is the Gucci-clad poster boy carrying the torch for a bygone era of music history that the Fleetwood Mac frontwoman helped crystallize. Styles recently cited the group’s 1977 (and still charting) classic “Dreams” as one of the first songs he learned the words to growing up. Their friendship began in 2015 after the former One Direction member presented his idol with a hand-piped birthday cake after a Fleetwood Mac gig in London. (“Glad she liked carrot cake,” he later said.) The years since have seen the duo’s mutual affection blossom into one of pop culture’s most cherished bondings.

Last year, when Styles inducted Nicks into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, he proclaimed the 72-year-old “everything you’ve ever wanted in a lady, a lover, in a friend.” Nicks has gushed about him in interviews as everything from “the son she never had” to her “love child” with bandmate Mick Fleetwood. Styles earned her official seal of approval after covering “The Chain” every night of his first solo tour in support of a record that sounds closer to Crosby, Stills & Nash than anything he released under his prior band.

“Harry could’ve lost a lot of fans, but he didn’t,” Nicks recently told Vogue over the phone. “I’m so proud of him because he took a risk and didn’t go the One Direction route. He loves One Direction, I love One Direction, and a gazillion other people do too, but Harry didn’t wanna go the pop route. He wanted straight-up rock and roll circa 1975.”  

Nicks has been embracing some of the busiest years of her dual careers as both Fleetwood Mac frontwoman and solo sorceress—and doing so amid a global pandemic. Since she last performed with Styles at the Forum for his Fine Line release show in December, she’s released a 24 Karat Gold concert film and “Show Them the Way,” her politically minded single and first piece of original music in six years. After Miley Cyrus asked for Nicks’s blessing before releasing her “Edge of Seventeen”–tinged “Midnight Sky,” the two joined forces for an exhilarating new mash-up titled “Edge of Midnight.”

In honor of Styles making history as the magazine’s first solo cover boy, Nicks caught up with Vogue to answer all our questions about their cosmic connection. Currently beachside with her quarantine bubble in Hawaii, she’s been doing what one would expect Stevie Nicks to be up to during a pandemic: writing new music, dancing around her house to “Watermelon Sugar,” and “casting little spells.” As befitting rock’s foremost storyteller, our intended 30-minute chat turned into a two-hour confessional about her love of Styles, working with Cyrus for the first time, joining Fleetwood Mac, the president-elect Joe Biden, the Met Gala, betta fish funerals, and much more.

ksd note: edited to only include Q&A about Stevie and Harry!

Did you get a chance to look through Harry’s cover story yet?  

Right before I called you, I sat here and looked at all the pictures on my new iPad. What can I say? That’s my Harry. I think the thing that’s most wonderful about him—and I’ve told him this, and sometimes I think he takes it the wrong way—is that he’s such a kooky guy. He’s the type of person you’d wanna live next door to. He’d look out the window, see you having a hard time planting flowers, and rush out asking, “Can I help you with those roses?” “Sure, but you are Harry Styles, right?” That’s who he is.

I really only know him to a certain extent, but I have gotten to experience some big moments in his life, like when he released his first solo record at the Troubadour. I always think of Tom Petty saying, “So, you wanna be a rock star or you wanna be a pop star?” It’s two completely different things, and he really could have gone pop like his friend Zayn [Malik]. I was sorry that Zayn didn’t keep going more because I thought he was really good. But he took the pop route, which I think was right for him. Harry could’ve lost a lot of fans doing rock and roll, but he didn’t. Harry did a long tour with that first record and said, “I’m a different person now. I have a full-on rock band, and this is what I’m gonna do.” With many of my records, I’ll stuff down peoples’ throats until they like it, and that’s exactly what he did. Then he went away and wrote Fine Line, one of my favorite records.

What were your immediate thoughts listening to Fine Line for the first time?

Me and four of my friends sat with Harry in his living room  in London and listened to it a few times before it came out. But it wasn’t really Fine Line yet. The first time we listened to it, nobody really said anything. The second time everyone started to go, “I think this song is great, but it should be second in the sequence.” By the third listen, it was five girls screaming, “Well, Harry really now, I think you need to take these four that are called Harry Songs and do this and that—” while he’s sinking in his reclining chair thinking, Are these women ever gonna leave? Thanks for your opinions, but oh, my God, stop already.  

What changed when you heard the record in it’s finished form?

This record means a lot to me. When it was all put together, I listened and said, “Oh, my god, the Beatles live.” A whole lot of people live in these songs. Fleetwood Mac lives there. I live there. When I listen to “Fine Line,” I hear melodies that would’ve worked on “A Day in the Life. “It has that same kind of complexity. I think the Beatles would’ve thought, Here we’ve influenced a young man who took some incredible things from us and made them his own years and years later.

Earlier this year you posted a message saying that Fine Line is Harry’s Rumours. Can you elaborate on what you meant by that?

When Harry asked me to do “Landslide” with him at the Forum, I asked why, and he said, “Because I want you to be there. You were there for my first night at the Troubadour for the first record.” That night I wrote him a letter that said, “This is your Rumours so you have to really respect it and adore it because these kinds of records sometimes don’t ever come again.” Fleetwood Mac went on to make many great records, but people would bet their life on the fact that Rumours was the one. And this might just be the one for Harry. We were all kind of the same age when we made Rumours. I was 28, and Lindsey [Buckingham] was 27. I actually don’t even know how old Harry is—he’s that timeless to me.

Do you have a personal favorite of his songs?

Every one represents a different thing to me. “Sunflower” is such a great little song. He loves to do crazy videos, and one time I called him and said, “I have an idea. You’re gonna be a bee, and the sunflower would be your girlfriend, and you guys would get married and live in a beehive with your little bee children. You’d sing the lyrics ‘kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor duh duh duh’ and show this entire bee relationship.” 

What did he think of that pitch?

When I finished, the other end of the phone was silent. I said, “No, really, think about it. It’ll be fantastical like a Francis Ford Coppola movie.” He’s like, “Yeah, okay...” [laughs]. I also love the “Adore You” video with the little fish because I have my own special relationships with fish.

In what sense?

I always have two beta fish, but they have to be separated otherwise they’ll kill each other. I stick my finger into their aquarium, and the blue one will swim around my hand like a little dolphin. When my fish get old and suddenly die, I have funerals for them in my backyard where I play Celine Dion. I have them filmed, and everything [laughs]. It’s too much, but I thankfully haven’t had any recent fish deaths. I haven’t even been able to sit down and show Harry the videos of my little fish, so when I saw the “Adore You” video, I couldn’t believe it.

Why is it important for you to foster these relationships with younger artists like Harry who’ve been so openly influenced by you?

I’m inspired by them. I’m inspired that Miley wants to make music with me. I’m inspired that the Haim girls are my biggest fans—and I theirs. A lot of these kids are making the amazing records I’ve been waiting for them to make. I’m not like other 72-year-olds. I listen to current music because I want to be current. When people find out how old I am versus the music I’m listening to, they think it doesn’t gel at all. I’ve been collecting musical knowledge since I was in the fourth grade listening to the singles my grandfather used to bring home. I listened to Buddy Holly and the Everly Brothers until the sixth grade when R&B radio became Top 40. I said goodbye country and hello R&B, so it’s not like I’m ever stuck on one thing. What I love about Harry is that he’s very old school but still modern. And that’s kinda like me.

You both also transitioned from massive groups to equally massive solo careers rather seamlessly.

When I decided I wanted to be a solo artist, I’d only been in Fleetwood Mac for a few years. I tried to figure out a way to do it gracefully because I didn’t wanna break up the band. I just wanted to sit at my piano and write poetry. After we did a record and a really long tour, the band scurried off to different parts of the world while I’d just be home writing songs for a year and a half. What did they care what I did while they were all on vacation? I’ve always said all the way through these two careers I’ve had: If you’re in a band first, never break it up.

Do you think One Direction would ever reunite?

I think it’s a good idea. For all we know, One Direction is completely broken up forever. But I think those guys are friends, and five or ten years down the road, they could all go, “You know what, wouldn’t it be really fun to do a One Direction tour?” Because that’s what people do. I wouldn’t be surprised if they did reunite at some point just because they can. And because it would just be fun. Harry is the kind of person who would never stomp on that idea. He would never say, [imitates posh English accent] “Never! I would never do that again!” Because why not just keep the door open?

Was there any particular detail or passage in Harry’s cover story that stuck out to you?

According to this article, he can get in a car with his friend to drive all over Europe then drive back by himself. I stopped driving in 1978 because my driver’s license expired and I’d already made a lot of money. I very smartly thought, “You know what, if someone even hits you and it’s not even your fault but you’re a little drunk, you are done. You’re finished, and the fortune that you’ve made is gone, so why should you drive anyway?” By then me and Christine were very cloistered, but Harry’s able to live a freer life because he’s a guy. He’s like Mick. He has a free life.

Would you say that you don’t?

I’m only comparing us in the way that Harry goes off to the Bahamas to work on songs, then flies back to L.A., then London, then Italy—I can’t do that. I can’t do that by myself. He’s able to do whatever he wants by himself, and it’s a whole different way of life. Being that Harry is a guy, he’s able to be a loner more than I am. As a woman, I’m not free to do all that. Even when I was his age, I couldn’t just get off anywhere I wanted. When we were on the road, Christine and I didn’t have a clue in the world what the boys did. We went to our rooms with security guys standing outside. It’s not like we ever escaped to go club-hopping in downtown Manhattan. We never got to live that life, so freedom as Harry knows it is very different than it’s been for me.

Did you ever have any figure in your life who provided some sense of mentorship the way you have to artists like Harry?

I didn’t really have anyone. If I had any guiding force at all, it probably would’ve been Christine McVie because she was five years older than me. And five years is five years, you know? Chris was friends with Eric Clapton and knew all the famous musicians in London. She’d married John [McVie] and done a bunch of records with Fleetwood Mac before I came along, so she’d been in the music business for a long time. I was breaking up with Lindsey when she was breaking up with John. She was my therapist and my go-to person for just about everything. We had each other to get through that really difficult situation where no one was gonna quit the band. Christine and I kept the whole thing together by telling the three men, “You quit because we’re not stopping” Thank God I had her, but on the other side of that, thank God she had me. We really were a force of nature.

** I’m curious to what extent fashion plays a role in your and Harry’s relationship. Have you** gifted him any accessories that were significant to you?

I actually gave him a ring at the Forum thing. It’s very masculine and has a pink stone in it. I told him it was a pink diamond, but it really isn’t. It would’ve cost $5 million. It was mine, and I really loved it, but I thought, This should be for Harry. You can see it on his hands in the “Falling” video where he’s playing the piano. If Harry and I were in a band together, we’d be trading all kinds of crazy stuff.

What are your thoughts on him being the first solo male cover in Vogue’s history?

It makes me feel so inspired. I’m extremely jealous he’s on the cover of Vogue because I’m 72 years old and have wanted to be on the cover my whole life. I’m such a magazine hag, so I’m incredibly jealous of Harry, but I’ll get over it. As far as all the crazy things he’s wearing, you do whatever you have to do to be on the cover of Vogue. I’m very proud of him, and I think it’s great that there’s a man on the cover…but I should’ve been in the corner off in the distance [laughs]. Did you know I’ve never been to the Met Gala?

We would be honored to have you at the next gala and every one after that. I’m putting this in the article to make sure it’s in the public record.

As Mick Jagger says, “We still have our freedom, but we don’t have much time.” I would like to be not much older than I am now so I can wear a fantastic outfit and entertain everybody. It’s a dream of mine, and most of my dreams have come true, but I need to not be 90 when it happens.

Harry and you could perform together.

We wouldn’t even have to rehearse. We’ve got a couple of duets that are really great. We do “Landslide” and “Two Ghosts” together really well. We actually have five or six terrific acoustic numbers that we could do at the drop of a hat.

You hinted earlier this year that there might be a role for Harry in the miniseries based on the stories of Rhiannon. Is there any update there?

This is probably the third-biggest thing I’ve ever done in my life after Fleetwood Mac and my solo career. There’s a lot to be done in the movie business before I can start riding my horses across the mountains of Wales. I’ve signed with a movie company—I’m not gonna tell you who—and we just signed a writer. I’m not gonna tell you who that is either, but there’s an amazing part for Harry. My favorite character in the series is the only man who goes through all four books. He’s a magician who doesn’t wanna be king, and I think Harry would just be so perfect.

Have you and Harry discussed collaborating on any future music together?

We’re open to making music together because we’ve been very successful when we go onstage just to do one song. I would love to be in a band with Harry, but even if I never saw him in person again, he’s made a record that breaks my heart in a million places like Fine Line. As far as music goes, there’s plenty of fun things that he and I could do. We can just reach out to each other and do it. I’m always ready to slip back into those high-heel black suede boots and become my alter ego.

via Vogue.com

[hlupdate]

Of all the disciples to worship at the altar of Stevie Nicks, none have managed to capture the attention of rock's reigning priestess quite like Harry Styles.

The 26-year old rocker (who this week received three Grammy nominations) is the Gucci-clad poster-boy carrying the torch for a bygone era of music history that the Fleetwood Mac front-woman helped crystallize. Styles recently cited the group's 1977 (and still charting) classic “Dreams” as one of the first songs he learned the words to growing up. Their friendship began in 2015 after the former One Direction member presented his idol with a hand-piped birthday cake after a Fleetwood Mac gig in London. (“Glad she liked carrot cake,” he later said.) The years since have seen the duo's mutual affection blossom into one of pop culture‘s most cherished bondings.

Last year, when Styles inducted Nicks into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, he proclaimed the 72-year old “everything you’ve ever wanted in a lady, a lover, in a friend.” Nicks has gushed about him in interviews as everything from “the son she never had” to the “love child” of her and bandmate Mick Fleetwood. Styles earned her official seal of approval after covering “The Chain” every night of his first solo tour in support of a record that sounds closer to Crosby, Stills & Nash than anything he released under his prior band.

“Harry could've lost a lot of fans but he didn't. I’m so proud of him because he took a risk and didn’t go the One Direction route," Nicks recently told Vogue over the phone. "He loves One Direction, I love One Direction, and a gazillion other people do too, but Harry didn't wanna go the pop route. He wanted straight-up rock-and-roll circa 1975.”

Nicks has been embracing some of the busiest years of her dual careers as both Fleetwood Mac front-woman and solo sorceress—and doing so in the midst of a global pandemic. Since she last performed with Styles at the Forum for his Fine Line release show in December, she’s released a 24 Karat Gold concert film and “Show Them the Way,” her politically-minded single and first piece of original music in six years. After Miley Cyrus asked for Nicks's blessing before releasing her “Edge of Seventeen”-tinged “Midnight Sky,” the two joined forces for an exhilarating new mash-up titled “Edge of Midnight."

In honor of Styles making history as the magazine’s first solo cover-boy, Nicks caught up with Vogue to answer all our questions about their cosmic connection. Currently beachside with her quarantine bubble in Hawaii, she’s been doing what one would expect Stevie Nicks to be up to during a pandemic: writing new music, dancing around her house to “Watermelon Sugar“ and “casting little spells.” As befitting rock’s foremost storyteller, our intended 30-minute chat turned into a two-hour confessional about her love of Styles, working with Cyrus for the first time, joining Fleetwood Mac, the president-elect Joe Biden, the Met Gala, betta fish funerals, and much more.

Did you get a chance to look through Harry's cover story yet?  

Right before I called you I sat here and looked at all the pictures on my new iPad. What can I say? That's my Harry. I think the thing that’s most wonderful about him—and I've told him this and sometimes I think he takes it the wrong way—is that he’s such a kooky guy. He’s the type of person you'd wanna live next door to. He’d look out the window, see you having a hard time planting flowers and rush out asking "Can I help you with those roses?" "Sure but you are Harry Styles, right?" That's who he is.

I really only know him to a certain extent but I have gotten to experience some big moments in his life like when he released his first solo record at the Troubadour. I always think of Tom Petty saying "So you wanna be a rock star or you wanna be a pop star?" It's two completely different things and he really could have gone pop like his friend Zayn [Malik]. I was sorry that Zayn didn't keep going more because I thought he was really good. But he took the pop route, which I think was right for him. Harry could've lost a lot of fans doing rock-and-roll but he didn't. Harry did a long tour with that first record and said “I'm a different person now. I have a full-on rock band and this is what I'm gonna do.” With many of my records I’ll stuff down peoples' throats until they like it and that's exactly what he did. Then he went away and wrote Fine Line, one of my favorite records.

What were your immediate thoughts listening to Fine Line for the first time?

Me and four of my friends sat with Harry in his living room  in London and listened to it a few times before it came out. But it wasn't really Fine Line yet. The first time we listened to it nobody really said anything. The second time everyone started to go "I think this song is great but it should be second in the sequence." By the third listen it was five girls screaming "Well Harry really now, I think you need to take these four that are called "Harry Songs" and do this and that—” while he’s sinking in his reclining chair thinking "Are these women ever gonna leave? Thanks for your opinions but oh my god stop already."

What changed when you heard the record in it’s finished form?

This record means a lot to me. When it was all put together I listened and said "Oh my god, The Beatles live." A whole lot of people live in these songs. Fleetwood Mac lives there. I live there. When I listen to "Fine Line” I hear melodies that would've worked on “A Day in the Life.“ It has that same kind of complexity. I think the Beatles would've thought “Here we’ve influenced a young man who took some incredible things from us and made them his own years and years later.”

Earlier this year you posted a message saying that Fine Line is Harry’s Rumours. Can you elaborate on what you meant by that?

When Harry asked me to do "Landslide" with him at the Forum I asked why and he said "Because I want you to be there. You were there for my first night at the Troubadour for the first record.” That night I wrote him a letter that said “This is your Rumours so you have to really respect it and adore it because these kinds of records sometimes don't ever come again.” Fleetwood Mac went on to make many great records but people would bet their life on the fact that Rumours was the one. And this might just be the one for Harry. We were all kind of the same age when we made Rumours. I was 28 and Lindsey was 27. I actually don't even know how old Harry is—he's that timeless to me.

Do you have a personal favorite of his songs?

Every one represents a different thing to me. “Sunflower” is such a great little song. He loves to do crazy videos and one time I called him and said “I have an idea. You're gonna be a bee and the sunflower would be your girlfriend, and you guys would get married and live in a beehive with your little bee children. You’d sing the lyrics “kiss in the kitchen like it's a dance floor duh duh duh” and show this entire bee relationship.”

What did he think of that pitch?

When I finished the other end of the phone was silent. I said "No really, think about it. It’ll be fantastical like a Francis Ford Coppola movie.” He’s like “Yeah, okay...” (laughs). I also love the "Adore You” video with the little fish because I have my own special relationships with fish.

In what sense?

I always have two betta fish but they have to be separated otherwise they'll kill each other. I stick my finger into their aquarium and the blue one will swim around my hand like a little dolphin. When my fish get old and suddenly die I have funerals for them in my backyard where I play Celine Dion. I have them filmed and everything (laughs). It’s too much but I thankfully haven’t had any recent fish deaths. I haven't even been able to sit down and show Harry the videos of my little fish so when I saw the “Adore You” video I couldn’t believe it.

Why is it important for you to foster these relationships with younger artists like Harry who’ve been so openly influenced by you?

I'm inspired by them. I'm inspired that Miley wants to make music with me. I’m inspired that the Haim girls are my biggest fans—and I theirs. A lot of these kids are making the amazing records I’ve been waiting for them to make. I’m not like other 72-year olds. I listen to current music because I want to be current. When people find out how old I am versus the music I'm listening to they think it doesn't gel at all. I’ve been collecting musical knowledge since I was in the fourth grade listening to the singles my grandfather used to bring home. I listened to Buddy Holly and the Everly Brothers until the sixth grade when R&B radio became Top 40. I said goodbye country and hello R&B, so it’s not like I'm ever stuck on one thing. What I love about Harry is that he's very old-school but still modern. And that's kinda like me.

You both also transitioned from massive groups to equally massive solo careers rather seamlessly.

When I decided I wanted to be a solo artist I'd only been in Fleetwood Mac for a few years. I tried to figure out a way to do it gracefully because I didn’t wanna break up the band. I just wanted to sit at my piano and write poetry. After we did a record and a really long tour the band scurried off to different parts of the world while I’d just be home writing songs for a year and a half. What did they care what I did while they were all on vacation? I’ve always said all the way through these two careers I've had: if you're in a band first, never break it up.

I know Beyoncé because I spent a day with Destiny’s Child making the “Bootylicious” video. I owe them a debt of gratitude because that’s the one time I ever got to pretend I played rock-and-roll guitar! But when Beyoncé made the decision to be a solo artist she did not see herself going back to Destiny's Child every couple of years. And that's a perfectly acceptable decision because sometimes that's what people wanna do. I, on the other hand, said why not have the ability to go back to Fleetwood Mac whenever I want? Being a Gemini I get bored really easily, so being able to have those two careers was great.

Do you think One Direction would ever reunite?

I think it's a good idea. For all we know, One Direction is completely broken up forever. But I think those guys are friends and five or ten years down the road they could all go "You know what, wouldn't it be really fun to do a One Direction tour?" Because that's what people do. I wouldn't be surprised if they did reunite at some point just because they can. And because it would just be fun. Harry is the kind of person who would never stomp on that idea. He would never say (imitates posh English accent) "Never! I would never do that again!" Because why not just keep the door open?

Was there any particular detail or passage in Harry’s cover story that stuck out to you?

According to this article he can get in a car with his friend to drive all over Europe then drive back by himself. I stopped driving in 1978 because my driver's license expired and I'd already made a lot of money. I very smartly thought "You know what, if someone even hits you and it's not even your fault but you're a little drunk, you are done. You're finished and the fortune that you've made is gone, so why should you drive anyway?” By then me and Christine were very cloistered, but Harry's able to live a freer life because he's a guy. He's like Mick. He has a free life.

Would you say that you don’t?

I'm only comparing us in the way that Harry goes off to the Bahamas to work on songs then flies back to LA then London then Italy—I can't do that. I can't do that by myself. He's able to do whatever he wants by himself and it's a whole different way of life. Being that Harry is a guy, he's able to be a loner more than I am. As a woman I'm not free to do all that. Even when I was his age I couldn't just get off anywhere I wanted. When we were on the road Christine and I didn't have a clue in the world what the boys did. We went to our rooms with security guys standing outside. It's not like we ever escaped to go club-hopping in downtown Manhattan. We never got to live that life so freedom as Harry knows it is very different than it’s been for me.

Did you ever have any figure in your life who provided some sense of mentorship the way you have to artists like Harry?

I didn't really have anyone. If I had any guiding force at all it probably would've been Christine McVie because she was five years older than me. And five years is five years, you know? Chris was friends with Eric Clapton and knew all the famous musicians in London. She’d married John [McVie] and done a bunch of records with Fleetwood Mac before I came along so she'd been in the music business for a long time. I was breaking up with Lindsey when she was breaking up with John. She was my therapist and my go-to person for just about everything. We had each other to get through that really difficult situation where no one was gonna quit the band. Christine and I kept the whole thing together by telling the three men "You quit because we're not stopping” Thank god I had her, but I think on the other side of that thank god she had me. We really were a force of nature.

I’m curious to what extent fashion plays a role in your and Harry’s relationship. Have you gifted him any accessories that were significant to you?

I actually gave him a ring at the Forum thing. It’s very masculine and has a pink stone in it. I told him it was a pink diamond but it really isn't, it would've cost $5 million. It was mine and I really loved it but I thought "This should be for Harry.” You can see it on his hands in the "Falling" video where he’s playing the piano. If Harry and I were in a band together we’d be trading all kinds of crazy stuff.

How did you come to decide on your all-black stage uniform?

I started getting paid when I joined Fleetwood Mac but up until then I didn't have any money to buy food. All of a sudden we were going on tour so I just packed up my normal clothes. We started eating because there was room service and there I was gaining ten pounds in the middle of the tour. I didn't fit in any of the clothes and I didn't have time to shop so when I got home I said “I can never do this again.” I knew a friend who knew a designer and I told her I needed a uniform because I can't be thinking about what I wanna wear every night. It makes it so much easier since everybody that's in Pittsburgh isn't necessarily gonna be in Philadelphia. Harry's done the same thing with his white pants and pink shirt.

What are your thoughts on him being the first solo male cover in Vogue’s history?

It makes me feel so inspired. I'm extremely jealous he's on the cover of Vogue because I'm seventy-two years old and have wanted to be on the cover my whole life. I’m such a magazine hag, so I’m incredibly jealous of Harry but I'll get over it. As far as all the crazy things he's wearing, you do whatever you have to do to be on the cover of Vogue. I'm very proud of him and I think it's great that there's a man on the cover… but I should've been in the corner off in the distance (laughs). Did you know I've never been to the Met Gala?

We would be honored to have you at the next gala and every one after that. I’m putting this in the article to make sure it’s in the public record.

As Mick Jagger says, "We still have our freedom, but we don't have much time." I would like to be not much older than I am now so I can wear a fantastic outfit and entertain everybody. It's a dream of mine and most of my dreams have come true, but I need to not be ninety when it happens.

Harry and you could perform together.

We wouldn't even have to rehearse. We've got a couple of duets that are really great. We do "Landslide" and “Two Ghosts” together really well. We actually have five or six terrific acoustic numbers that we could do at the drop of a hat.

You hinted earlier this year that there might be a role for Harry in the miniseries based on the stories of Rhiannon. Is there any update there?

This is probably the third-biggest thing I've ever done in my life after Fleetwood Mac and my solo career. There’s a lot to be done in the movie business before I can start riding my horses across the mountains of Wales. I've signed with a movie company—I'm not gonna tell you who—and we just signed a writer. I'm not gonna tell you who that is either but there’s an amazing part for Harry. My favorite character in the series is the only man who goes through all four books. He's a magician who doesn't wanna be king and I think Harry would just be so perfect.

Have you and Harry discussed collaborating on any future music together?

We're open to making music together because we've been very successful when we go onstage just to do one song. I would love to be in a band with Harry but even if I never saw him in person again he’s made a record that breaks my heart in a million places like Fine Line. As far as music goes there's plenty of fun things that he and I could do. We can just reach out to each other and do it. I’m always ready to slip back into those high-heel black suede boots and become my alter ego.

This interview has been edited for clarity and space.

[orsuliya]

Since you do such detailed asks and give a well thought out answers, I want to know your opinion on the Ma brothers. Zilong, Zilu and Zitan. What do you think about them?

Ah, our three intrepid Ma princes... Wait a minute, why three? It's not like we're in a fairytale and while Zitan is certainly a fool, he's not nearly good-hearted enough to play the role of Ivan the Fool.

But seriously, it seems mightily suspicious of Daddy Emperor to sire three sons in quick succession and then, as far as we know, never ever procreate again. He's an Emperor and obviously fertile, so how come the imperial nursery remains so glaringly empty? Could it be that he has no concubines at all except for his beloved Xie Guifei?

Or... has the Empress been aborting babies left and right, and poisoning her way through swathes of women to boot? Not impossible, knowing her temperament, but it doesn't really make sense within the dynamic presented in the drama. Drama!Emperor hates, hates, hates the Wangs and especially his wife, so it's hard to believe he wouldn't have used this juicy tidbit to weaken their influence. In the book Wanru is allowed to run roughshod over Potato's concubines and feed them contraceptives willy-nilly, but that's because Potato doesn't really care. The Emperor, as we see him in the drama, would have found reason enough to care upon being given such an obvious opening to start a smear campaign against his favourite enemy. Stymying the imperial bloodline?! Why, I think it might be a crime and easily provable one at that!

This leaves the other option - perhaps there aren't any concubines in the palace or, if there are, they're not being, pardon my French, bred. It's not that multiple imperial concubines of lower rank aren't a thing in this universe - Potato gets at least two and possibly more after sitting on the throne for a relatively short time. It's a pity we don't know what's the policy on entering the palace. Is there a multi-stage selection process? There is certainly no indication of that! Xie Guifei might have been an attempt to balance out a Wang Empress, Seagull was Zitan's impromptu choice, Miss Screecher was meant to be chosen by Potato outside of any organized selection and the same could be true for Potato's other concubines. Our only outlier might be Zilu's Mom and even then it's rather doubtful she was ever processed properly as it would have required a lot of effort and luck to conceal an already existing pregnancy. No, Zilu's Mom was most probably a gift of 'peace' from one brother to another.

My guess as to what Daddy Emperor is thinking? If Zitan has been his preferred heir from the start and he very well might have been since it never had anything to do with Zitan's actual qualities, then it's possible that he simply didn't protest - or did so in a purely symbolic manner - when the Wangs started limiting his reproductive chances. Why breed competition? We already know he has no use for any sons lacking powerful backing of their maternal clans, see: his treatment of Zilu. And any son with such backing would be a direct threat to his favourite, not to mention a potential upset to the carefully maitained Wang-Ma-Xie balance.

...or it could be that Daddy Emperor really loved Xie Guifei and wanted no other. Seeing as he's strongly implied to spend his nights in her chambers twenty years after their only and last kid was born, this would make a staggering amount of sense. The same principle applies - he'd still not protest Wang tyranny over the inner courts, only he'd do it for Xie Guifei and not for Zitan. It does seem to fit with Daddy Emperor's general mindset. Let the others do open battle and exert all that effort, he'll just sit there, look sage and reap the benefits!

After this rather senseless and overly long prelude, let's finally get to answering your question. Mind you, those are not going to be organized, thoughtful opinions, just my subjective impressions on each and every Ma Prince.

His Imperial Spudness Ma Zilong

The not-so-little Potato that could not, but still tried! Let's start with the elephant in the room, namely his rapist tendencies or the lack thereof. See, I'm convinced that raping Awu wasn't actually in the cards, at least as far as Potato was concerned. Compromising her, sure, just lure her into an emptied palace and cry wolf. Outright raping her, no, if only because Potato is way, way too weak and soft to execute a plan this ruthless in its entirety. Besides, harming Awu to this extent would be risky as all hell and sure to provoke authentic wrath in both Daddy Emperor and Daddy Wang. The Empress is not stupid enough to give her husband the perfect excuse to do away with her son nor to alienate her main supporter in the same move. Even if she was able to force a marriage in the first place, Potato would be pretty much done for politically unless both Daddies suddenly dropped dead. The most she would be able to get would be a grandson in a privileged position, so she'd be back to square one, only with one more female to share power with. No, what Potato did and what Wanru suffered was mostly courtesy of Zilu's suspicious drugs. Not to say Potato isn't a rapist all the same, but I'd argue for diminished capacity.

As for Potato himself in his shining spuddy glory, I truly pity the man. From time to time we see glimpses of the ruler he could have become and whom he still tries to be, and it becomes clear that there was something there worth cultivating. The problem is that nobody could be bothered to even try. Daddy Emperor certainly didn't, leaving Potato pretty much to his own devices and believe me, it had nothing to do with his talents or the lack thereof. Do you remember that lovely family scene at the beginning of episode 1.? You know, the one where Awu, Zilu and Zitan lure Zilong into a trap and then leave him there to lie amidst icy rocks in the middle of winter? He could have easily hit his head and died right then and there. Or get pneumonia and die a little bit later. Does the Emperor care? No, not at all! Baby!Awu isn't that good of a liar, but even if she was, perhaps it would behoove him to actually investigate. Not from any kind of fatherly feeling, let's not expect miracles, but perhaps from political expediency? Yeah, no. And I doubt that was the only incident of this kind. Potato must have known even this early on that his father doesn't care for him, not even like an Emperor should for his eldest male scion. Moreover, there is no way Mommy Dearest wouldn't harp on about the Emperor's negligence in private, further affirming this awful truth in Potato's mind.

Mommy Dearest might care, but her care is no less toxic than Daddy Emperor's open negligence. Potato is her key to power, her only way to win the game of thrones and make all her sacrifices worthwhile... and this is exactly how she treats him. Oh, she loves him well enough as her son, clings to him in his role as Crown Prince and then Emperor, but she doesn't actually like him as a person. And oh boy, does it show! I get it, he's not this perfect shining prince that would justify her long years of suffering, but then I have this feeling she gave up on him the moment he showed himself to be perfectly average. Sure, she offers him (toxic) love and (conditional) support like nobody's business, but there's always this nasty undertone in their relationship. Mommy knows best, don't even try to think on your own, listen to me and only me. It's no wonder that Potato thinks he's perfectly useless and doesn't bother to try and better himself, if he knows that even his own mother sees him as a perfect nincompoop. Uncle Wang's open derision isn't helpful either!

And yet Potato is, deep down, a decent enough man. Better than the average Ma, I'd say. I mean, he has some scruples! They might be really, really tiny, but they're there, even as he's being subjected to a barrage of mental attacks from both his mother and his wife. Why, given proper support and a competent cabinet, he'd make a somewhat ineffective, but decent enough ruler, his handling of the flood crisis shows us this much. Potato's best quality is that he really tries. Oh, he fails, but he's no Zitan, content to sit in his room and mope while the country goes to hell. When it's important, he can make actual decisions! Which he may then go back on (or not), but it still counts. Also, he's not petty. Like, at all. He'd like nothing better than for everybody to get along and have lots and lots of plump babies. Even his decision to do away with Xiao Qi is not motivated by jealousy, no matter how hard Wanru and Mommy Dearest keep pressing on that particular button.

Is he childish? Yes. But then, he's never been given any real responsibility and for years and years languished under the care of a helicopter parent who never forced him to man up nor face actual reality, hence his disillusionment with Wanru, once she stops being this perfect smiling automaton. Is he selfish? Oh yes and it shows nowhere better than in his last will. But even so, such selfishness is pretty much par for the course when it comes to the Mas and at least Potato didn't wreck a country for the sake of personal spite, which puts him way ahead of his father, uncle Jianning and bro Zitan. And perhaps even cousin Zilu, who cared less for the country than for Huanmi.

At the end of the day, our humble root vegetable is a tragic figure. I can't help but pity him every time we see him bloom under somebody's attention. Give that man some respect and he'll pay you back with the same, weird comments about killing you nothwithstanding. And he did give us Miracle Baby, Our Lord and Saviour!

Our beloved Groomzilla, Ma Zilu

Daddy Emperor must have been stupid, high, blind or all of those in order to let Zilu and his beautiful brain slip through his fingers. He was right there, that defenseless, motherless boy and ripe for the taking too! If after years and years of being neglected and treated as an afterthought, after suffering an obvious slight of losing his love on Daddy Wang's say-so, after being allowed to supposedly run wild with no attempt at parental intervention... If after all this Zilu still craved his father's approval in whatever form he could get it, craved it so much that he allowed himself to be led into an obvious trap, then what kind of loyalty might he have offered, had somebody bothered to nurture him properly?

And it's not like his talents were easy to sweep under the rug. It's not until after he's an adult that Zilu takes up the pretense of being a never-do-well; during his adolescence he was still giving it his all, hoping in vain that his father might notice and offer him some sweet, sweet parental validation. Alas. The lack of powerful backing from his maternal family is an obstacle, but not if one actively tries to fight against consort kin clans and their influence. Or is it only the Wangs who are the enemy? Must be so, otherwise why the hell would one not see Zilu's relative independence as his greatest asset? You don't even have to make him Crown Prince to use him; just instill some sense of pride and validation, feed his need for attention and put him behind Zitan's throne. Okay, maybe don't do that last thing, deadly brotherly competition being a whole thing in palace environments, but still, use him! But no, Huanmi remained the only person to actually see and appreciate Zilu for what he was. Is it any wonder he was so absolutely loyal to her that even when it looked like she had attacked him with lethal intent, he still cared about her safety most of all?

And is it any wonder that he expedited his considerable will and brainpower solely for her benefit? I was absolutely floored when I realized that becoming an Emperor wasn't actually his ultimate goal - marrying Huanmi in the biggest, reddest wedding possible was! Even if he needed to drag the more august guests in at swordpoint. Not to say he didn't want to take the throne for his own sake; he absolutely did, but only as far as it served as a big fat fuck you to every person who kept dismissing him out of hand, so basically every person other than Huanmi. Taking the crown was a power fantasy, an idee-fixe of sorts, but for all that keeping a throne in one's basement can be seen as somewhat peculiar, there are very few - if any - signs of actual delusion in Zilu's actions. The throne is not a goal in itself, merely a way to achieve his primary goal, which is to marry the woman he loves, take revenge for Huanmi's sake as much as his own and build a life worthy of her. She's his Empress and by gods, she's going to be the real deal soon enough, no more cosplaying in private villas, however nice it might be!

Ma Zitan, the one and only Master of Mope

With every Ma Prince I become more and more convinced that there was something seriously wrong with Daddy Emperor's brain. Neglecting Potato makes some sense within the greater political picture, letting Zilu lie fallow is the height of foolishness, yet it's more a matter of criminal inaction than actively doing something wrong, but Zitan? Oh, there is no excuse for the way Daddy Emperor chose to deal with Zitan. If the Third Prince was truly his intended heir from the start and there is little reason to believe otherwise - if Wangs are to go then Potato is done for, Zilu was never even considered and Zitan remains the favourite long after showing his complete uselessness - why not try to prepare him for his future role? True, doing so openly might provoke the Wangs, but it's not like there aren't any ways to present such ruler lessons as something else, even a punishment. But no, let's just hope he turns out okay all by himself!

Now, logically reasoning, if Zitan was Daddy Emperor’s favourite and the prince he originally wanted as his heir, then Zitan should be given all possible help, right? So why wasn’t he taught any actual skills, whether in governance or in military matters? The thing is… they might have tried. In episode 61, when Zitan asks his faithful pair of retainers if he would be able to best Xiao Qi, their first answer is not that he’s the Emperor so it’s a given. Well, that too, but the first, immediate response? You studied the art of war. Which, okay, might be a reasonable guess when it comes to any prince, but those retainers are rather young and only recently-promoted. Before their soujourn at the Imperial Mausoleum they probably served somewhere within the wider imperial household, but not close enough to any great personage to be knowledgeable about what the princes might or might not have studied. Also, that answer, should Zitan’s lessons be limited to his early childhood, would make them look like idiots or bootlickers of the worst sort. But let’s say that Zitan actually studied the art of war and did so longer than his brothers. Or, alternatively, with more famous masters. That would naturally be a subject of some talk, if only within the imperial household itself. If so, then the female retainer, who seems rather astute in general, gave the best answer she could give.

Okay, so maybe somebody actually tried to help Zitan along. It still failed. Zitan at twenty or so is singularily useless and strangely unambitious, and no, calligraphy doesn't count as useful, not if one is an imperial prince and Emperor-to-be!

It's not Zitan's uselessness or even his refusal to feel any kind of reponsibility for his own people (as shown in the Huizhou arc) I have the most issue with. Although the latter is simply disgusting. And... really, really short-sighted. If Huizhou falls, as it surely must, Jianning and Co. get a clear way to the capital, leaving Xiao Qi to play deadly catch-up. Which means that Zitan's family is pretty much done for. Now, he might not care about Potato and Zilu, but surely he should feel something towards his father? Some filial piety, if not actual love? But no, screw the people of Huizhou and screw Daddy Emperor. Still, does he think that Jianning wouldn't pursue him to the ends of the earth in order to eradicate a potential claimant?

No, what really angers me is the way Zitan treats the women he claims to hold dear. And I'm not even speaking of Awu, although it's rather obvious that he cares little for her internality and rather more than is healthy for his idealized image of her. Xie Guifei dies for him, which is not his fault in the least... or is it? See, I'm pretty sure that Zitan's insistence on marrying Awu despite his mother's reservations was what provoked the Wangs to take certain... steps. Provoking a power struggle is all fine and good, if you're at least somewhat prepared for the consequences. Zitan is no fifteen year old well-bred young lady, he's an imperial prince right in the middle of a delicate balance of power, how the hell does he not know or care about possible ramifications? Naivety is theoretically not a crime, but that surely is criminal naivety. Which begs the question - how hard was that boy coddled by his mother? My guess is a lot. But Xie Guifei is but a trifle compared to the elephant in the room.

Xie Wanru. Xie Wanru, who supported Zitan as much as she could while being in a precarious situation herself. And whom he had no problems with asking for further support, going as far as to aim for the throne, disregarding her own and her children's potential interests. Xie Wanru, who didn't make the first move, even knowing Zitan to be a potential threat to her and hers. Xie Wanru, whose baby got a full portion of avuncular love in form of actual torture and was lucky to get away with his life. Xie Wanru, his sister, whose ghost must have screeched with fury upon hearing Zitan laud himself as this paragon of brotherly feelings in comparison to the well-intentioned Turnip.

Oh, and he just sat there like an offended child while the country kept sliding into chaos, simply because some evil old men didn't let him kill Cheng's entire army with his sheer incompetence. Those dastardly old bastards! Let them scramble around and let the people in the provinces keep dying; they all deserve this for not recognizing Zitan's awesomeness! I'm not saying he should have fixed everything. I'm saying he should have done the bare minimum. He killed a brother for that throne, now he should actually do something with it. Other than purposefully provoking the only guy who actually restored peace and stability simply because the man happens to be married to Zitan's first love.

I'm sorry, I cannot with Zitan. There's a lot more to be said about that twerp, much of which has already been said, but at this point refraining from plowing on it's a matter of mental hygiene.

[robininthelabyrinth]

This is a very vague plot but I would love to read an Emperor or very powerful WWX fic from you. I enjoy Boashan Sanren’s Emperor!WWX AU and I also love fics where WWX really is powerful and free to kick ass and just wreck shit. I really think your take on these tropes would be an interesting one and enjoyable read for all. Thank you for all the fics and your efforts in the fandom so far. Take care yourself. ☺️

fictional 18th century France in which the entire century is happening at once - part 2  

- for part 1 see: ao3 or tumblr -

Wei Wuxian came to Nie Huaisang for advice.

Well, technically, that’s not quite right, Nie Huaisang reflected. Wei Wuxian, when faced with a situation that exceeded even his formidable talents, reverted back to his old ways in times of severe crisis. Namely, he ran back to ask for advice from his adopted family – which by this point consisted only of Jiang Cheng, what with the majority of the Jiangs having perished in the infamous massacre. 

(The newspapers had dubbed it “le massacre des lotus”, a poetic way to elide the horrific mess of blood and death and despair that it had actually been.)

Naturally, Jiang Cheng didn’t have any idea what to do with the hot potato he’d been handed, and so he, and Wei Wuxian with him, came to Nie Huaisang, who always knew what to do. Who else did they have to ask?

Sure, Nie Huaisang supposed they could have gone to seek the advice of Lady Jin, formerly Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng’s older sister, but luckily Jiang Cheng was self-aware enough to know how much of a political disaster that would have been. Regardless of her personal merits, of which Nie Huaisang was certain there were many, the former young lady Jiang had married into the Jin family, a move that was widely viewed with suspicion. 

After all, the spectacle of yet another wealthy noble marrying another wealthy noble in exactly the sort of thing the Revolution and the abolition of noble privileges had been meant to stymie – and this particular marriage especially suspect given that everyone knew that the Jin family’s politics leaned heavily monarchist, having only just barely refrained from becoming émigrés themselves by the thought of the financial advantages they thought they could get following the fall of the Sun King.

For the Jins, the marriage had been a coup, giving them a claim to legitimacy in their new era; for the Jiangs, it was far from being the best move, politically speaking, no matter how much they swore that it was a love match.

It must have been, for the normally astute Jiangs to make such an unforced stumble.

The marriage itself was bad enough, but if Wei Wuxian, grand (if highly unorthodox) hero of the foreign wars, was seen consulting with the Jins, allowing them to influence him…well, it wouldn’t end up good for anyone, except maybe the ones who wanted to overthrow the Revolution and reestablish the rule of the Wen dynasty on the basis of the divine right of kings.

Apparently, chopping off the heads of the last set wasn’t enough to warn the rest of them off.

Fucking émigrés.

At any rate, that was how the whole mess had ended up in Nie Huaisang’s lap.

“I’m not sure what you’re looking at me to tell you,” Nie Huaisang said, idly fanning himself. That wasn’t exactly in fashion either – fans were very much seen as an affectation of the previous political order – but it was garnished with the appropriately patriotic rosette and anyway, everyone knew he liked fans, useless self-indulgent dandy that he was. Good only for throwing parties and keeping an active salon for his own entertainment, albeit one very in vogue and coincidentally very popular with all the famous revolutionary thinkers of their day.

Besides, no one in their right mind was going to claim that Nie Mingjue’s little brother wasn’t sufficiently revolutionary.

“Don’t pull your good-for-nothing stunt with me,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes at him. “I was there when it all started, remember?”

Jiang Cheng had lucked in to being there when it all started, since unlike many of the other people Nie Huaisang had so carefully invited to his salon, Jiang Cheng had been invited purely on the basis of being an old friend from school. That he’d become a hero of the Revolution instead of being imprisoned and executed after the massacre of his family by the increasingly paranoid and dictatorial Sun King was his own good fortune and hard work, naturally, but he wouldn’t have even known where to start if it hadn’t been for Nie Huaisang and his connections.

“I remember,” Nie Huaisang said. “I also recall that you and Wei Wuxian broke ties long ago, isn’t that right?”

Obviously that little façade had been entirely political.

It would have been awkward for Wei Wuxian, darling of the armies and terror of the continent, inventor of a brand new form of warfare and at least half a dozen new pieces of artillery, to be so closely tied to any one noble family, no matter their history together. It would have led to accusations that the Jiang family was seeking to take advantage of the Revolution to strengthen their own power, no matter how passionate a revolutionary Jiang Cheng was personally - the Jin sect had already started spreading rumors, casting allegations, implications, smears...

Their show of very publicly disowning each other had put an end to that.

“Don’t play dumb,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently, because he knew that Nie Huaisang knew that it was all bullshit, even if the newspapers Nie Huaisang bankrolled pretended to swallow the bait down whole. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Of course I will,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes at him. “We’re friends. But because we’re friends, I’m going to tell you flat out that you already know what the choices ahead of you are and you know which one is the best move. What you want is for me provide you with any other options, and I’m not going to be able to do that.”

“This is just insane!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. He was pacing around the room, face pale and cloak black, as looking dashing as always. Nie Huaisang wanted to get out his paints and force the man to pose for him and maybe a dozen or so of his closest artist friends; it would be stunning. “I can’t – why would they ask me? A few years ago, I was just an artillery captain! Son of a servant and a runaway novitiate!”

“The whole point of the Revolution was to favor merit, not birth,” Nie Huaisang reminded him. “And anyway, who cares that you were an artillery captain back then? You’re a general now. The Lion of Yiling.”

“The Menace of Yiling, the Fiend of the Burial Mounds, the Nightmare of Europe…” Jiang Cheng murmured, recounting some of the less polite versions. Nie Huaisang waved his fan at him – he wasn’t helping.

“Your brother is a general, too,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, a little desperately. 

It wouldn’t help him.

“Mm, he is. He’s also nobility of the sword - well, saber - from a line that has existed for generations, even if we did have rather ignoble origins,” Nie Huaisang said. He was not without sympathy for Wei Wuxian’s predicament, but really, some things were obvious. “We all know he’s the incorruptible and all that, but it’d be far too easy for the newspapers - and our enemies - to paint him as having done it all for his own selfish interests. There’s a reason he announced all the way back at the beginning of the wars that he wasn’t interested in political power when he was done, that he’d retired like a modern-day Cincinnatus. Who would have trusted him as commander-in-chief if he hadn’t?”

“Me,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “Sane people, if they’re thinking straight! Your brother is incorruptible. He doesn’t even like war, even if he’s damn good at it. People should be chomping at the bit to get him to be the one – the one to – !”

“They are,” Nie Huaisang said dryly. “The innocent ones and the ones egged on by the Jin family both. They know the only way to tear down his influence is to get him to make a mistake.”

“And you won’t let him do that,” Jiang Cheng said knowingly.

Nie Huaisang snorted. What did Jiang Cheng know? “I didn’t need to say anything. He was offended on principle by the very thought of it.”

All three of them sighed in unison – Nie Huaisang a little long-suffering, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian a bit dreamily.

It was a good thing Nie Huaisang had long ago accepted that every young man in France between the ages of twelve and thirty four, at minimum, was at least a little in love with his brother, or else he would have found it all far more aggravating than he did.

“To get back to the point,” Nie Huaisang said a moment later. “There’s simply nothing for it: you have to be the one to take it. No one else will suit half as well as you.”

“Why does someone have to take it at all?” Wei Wuxian demanded. “The principles of the Revolution -”

“Because we can’t function with these endless wars on our borders, as well as within them,” Nie Huaisang said, losing patience, and both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian scowled, not wanting to accept the truth of what he was saying. “We need a stronger executive than we have right now, simply put. As for the form of that executive, well, the Revolution simply happened so fast that people are refusing to accept it without at least the trappings of the ancient regime - even if it’s not quite the same as the last time around. And as for why you, that’s because you can be trusted to shepherd it, to let it grow to the maturity it requires, and we will not fear you clinging to power when the time comes for it to return.”

Wei Wuxian scrubbed his face. “You trust me too much.”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “You’re upright, moral, selfless…it helps that you’re exclusively interested in men, of course. No heirs means no dynasty.”

They both started spluttering.

“Oh, I’m sorry, had you not realized that yet?” Nie Huaisang barely bothered to hide his smirk behind his fan. “I thought it was obvious. You flirt with women for sport, not profit, and of course there’s your taste in pornography…”

“Back to the subject!” Wei Wuxian shouted, his normally shameless face flushing bright red. “Back to the subject!”

Nie Huaisang snapped his fan shut, making them both jump.

“All right,” he said. “Back to the subject: you have to become emperor, Wei Wuxian, or else someone else will, and they’ll be worse. I’m not saying that you’ll be good at it, or that you’ll enjoy it, or that it won’t end up with you exiled to some island in the middle of the ocean for thirteen years before making a miraculous return to save the country from itself –”

“Oddly specific.”

“Be quiet. What I’m saying is that you have to do it. The army supports you because you’re their darling, the people support you because of your victories in the war, the Jin and the other aristocrats support you because they think they can manipulate you through Jiang Yanli, the Lan and the other members of the Church…well, to be frank, most of them think that you’re a horrible blasphemer, which they think about all of us, but if you agree to let them crown you they’ll get over themselves and endorse you anyway. Even the foreign nations that we’re currently at war against would support your ascension to the position because the greed for power of a single man at least makes sense to them and accords with their understanding of history, as opposed to our Revolution, which is new and makes them afraid of what they might lose if it’s allowed to live. In short: it has to be you.”

Wei Wuxian sat down heavily on the couch. Jiang Cheng went over and put his hand on his shoulder.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “What about the rest of them?”

“The rest of them?”

“The other revolutionaries. What will they think? Your brother – he’s one of the most ardent proponents against the institution of the monarchy. How can he be happy with an empire?”

Nie Huaisang went and sat next to Wei Wuxian, pressing a nice pastry into his hand. “You went to the same classes I did, Wei Wuxian. You know that in ancient Rome, the position of Emperor - the imperator power - was originally established in the form of the ‘dictator’,” he said. “A magistrate granted absolute power in extraordinary times, for a limited time, for the purpose of rescuing the Republic.”

The most famous example of which was, of course, Cinncinatus, the man his brother was so often compared to. 

He thought Wei Wuxian would be a good example of that selflessness as well.

“I did attend class, and more often than you did,” Wei Wuxian said with an uncalled-for amount of snark. “And I remember very well that in ancient Rome, the institution of the position of Emperor meant the death of the Republic.”

“But not this time,” Nie Huaisang said confidently. “That’s what all our enemies will think, yes, but in truth you’ll be a dictator in the old-fashioned sense of the word: you’ll take the power, you’ll do the work, and then, when the Revolution has progressed enough to continue on its own, you’ll step down. My brother would support something like that. They all would.”

“But what if I don’t step down? What if the power goes to my head and I start to see myself as – as essential?”

“Three things,” Nie Huaisang said. “First, you’re an arrogant piece of work who already sees yourself as essential, and it hasn’t made you go crazy yet. Second, you’re fundamentally lazy and indolent at heart – take it from someone who knows – and while you’re very industrious if you think it’s your duty or the right thing to do, if given a chance to do the right thing by not doing work, you’d jump at the chance.”

Jiang Cheng looked as if he would protest the characterization, but Wei Wuxian nodded. He’d always loudly dreamed of retiring to the countryside to be a farmer or a mad scientist or something, and if Jiang Cheng had always thought he was joking then Nie Huaisang, at least, had not made that mistake. “And the third thing?”

“If you really do end up fucking it up, my brother will turn Baxia on you.”

Jiang Cheng choked, and Wei Wuxian snorted. 

“That’s oddly comforting, actually,” he said, and smiled. “Okay. Fine. You’re right – I’m the only one that can do it and do it right. And since that’s the case, I’ll accept: first the position of Consul, and then, as necessary, the position of Emperor. But you have to help me – you, your brother, Jiang Cheng…even Wen Qing. I insist on it; I won’t let her get executed just because of her name.”

“I can work with that, and really, no matter what the Jin say, I don’t think that’ll be a real issue. Having a daughter – well, cousin, but who’s counting – of the former dynasty working for you is a good move,” Nie Huaisang said. “Set her up with something that’s both important and yet non-political so people don’t feel threatened…revitalizing the hospitals and improving public health, maybe. She’d like that; didn’t she always want to be a doctor instead of a princess?”

“Anyone else I should make sure to add in?” Wei Wuxian asked. His eyes were avid and serious, which he rarely was in peacetime; Nie Huaisang looked forward to the day when he could be frivolous and light-hearted again. 

Still, it was good to see that he was committed.

“Jin Guangyao is the least objectionable of the Jin family, even if he is a belatedly recognized bastard,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s more treacherous than a snake, but since we know that, we should be able to manage him appropriately. Put him in charge of the police and the spy network; he’ll do wonders with it.”

And probably end up assassinating his father, but in Nie Huaisang’s opinion that wouldn’t be that bad of a thing either. He resolved not to mention it to the others.

“Jin Zixuan isn’t objectionable,” Jiang Cheng put in.

“No, he’s very pretty,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “Your sister can hang him on her wall as artwork.”

“…he really doesn’t have many other talents, does he?”

“I’m given to understand that he spends money very well,” Nie Huaisang said dryly, and both men winced: as a dandy, Nie Huaisang had the most experience in such things. “You should also take Lan Wangji into your administration.”

“Lan Wangji?” Wei Wuxian’s face was a bit red. “Doesn’t he hate me?”

“After all the polemics he’s written in your favor, you still think he hates you? Just because of your little tussle back at school? Please get over yourself.”

“They’re in the Revolution’s favor, not mine…”

“Actually, no, he’s right,” Jiang Cheng said. “There are definitely some explicitly in your favor, and he wouldn’t do that by mistake - not with how eloquent a writer he is, even if he’s practically a mute in person. But...Nie Huaisang, what role would you put him in? He may be from a family that’s closely affiliated with the Church, but he’s not actually a priest himself – and anyway, if we were going to have to appoint an archbishop to help support us, I’d rather it went to someone like Xiao Xingchen. Everyone likes him.”

“And the fact that Xiao Xingchen is beholden to no one and interested in charitable works to the exclusion of all else is an extra bonus,” Wei Wuxian said, showing that he did, in fact, know some politics underneath his thick-skulled appearance. “But that’s a good point. What role did you have in mind for Lan Wangji?”

“I mean, ideally he’d be Empress,” Nie Huaisang said breezily, and enjoyed seeing Wei Wuxian’s face heat up and Jiang Cheng start spluttering again, “but since that’s at least ten years out, might I suggest appointing him as your chief of staff, and his brother as your foreign minister? That way you can keep Lan Wangji nice and close by, his aura of righteousness and habit of policing everyone around him will help stop the flow of corruption, and it’ll appear as though you’re using him as security against Lan Xichen – nice and distant and not at all corrupt, even as his writings continue to make the populace swoon over you. Jiang Cheng can continue to lead the navy, as he does now, and my brother the army; we can work out peacetime posts for them later on.”

“Hold up,” Wei Wuxian said. “Go back to why he’d be the Empress…? He doesn’t even like me!”

“That’s not the problem with that idea,” Jiang Cheng squawked. “Wei Wuxian..!”

Nie Huaisang went to pour drinks.

His work here was done.

[roswellnmsource]

Jeanine Mason and Roswell, New Mexico showrunner preview season 3 of the extraterrestrial drama

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Was the year time jump because of the pandemic? To sidestep making that too central to the plot, or was that always the plan?

JEANINE MASON: That was always our intention and it was just sort of a saving grace in that way. We also don't acknowledge the pandemic in real-time on our show. There are no masks and that was just so wonderful just to get work in that way and have that time where it was a little more normal. Also, that's just our show — we want you to come to us the way you always do, which is for nineties nostalgia, sexy Cowboys, brilliant scientists, you know?

CHRIS HOLLIER: So we wanted to drop our characters in a year later, let them stew in their individual decisions that were made last season. We want everyone to root for our poster couple but we want to honor what happens in real life, which is sometimes you step away from that person, even if you are entwined with them in a very particular way. So we wanted it to be a real enough time and distance so that they could live a little life on their own.

With showrunner Carina Adly MacKenzie departing at the end of season 2, has much changed? Or are you still working with ideas she had in place?'

HOLLIER: It's a little bit of both. There are things that Carina and I built that live all the way through and then once the story got up on its feet, discoveries were made with our new crop of people that we were like, "Oh, we're going to bend it this other way."

Jeanine, how is Liz doing in her new life in L.A. when we pick up this season?

MASON: Well, it's been a year and at this point, her life is actually pretty great. She just hasn't taken a second to acknowledge that. She's doing what she does best, which is just full head in her work and trying to figure out what she could use of her discoveries and her brilliance to save Maria. She has a great job, a really nice place, and an awesome partner at work who is a good time and a real match for her in terms of intellect and ambition. He begins to ask her to recognize that and to maybe give something a chance that she's been reluctant to because of how drawn she is to Roswell and to Max. It's a fun first episode. It's sexy. It's fun to find opportunities for her. She's our hero so she's got a lot on her shoulders and anytime where we can find levity for her is always a real treat for the writers and for me.

And no Crashdown waitress uniform must be nice?

MASON: Honestly, I miss it quite a lot right now. I have a note in my notes with Chris, I'm like, "I gotta tell him we gotta find him more opportunities for it."

Should Liz and Max shippers be worried about them finding their way back to one another after he destroyed her work and didn't follow her to L.A.? Should we resign ourselves to a season apart?

MASON: This season really is about these characters having themselves mirrored to each other. Max and Liz need some growing and ultimately they can't do anything but be orbiting each other. We found so many opportunities to have such a beautiful language around the cosmic element of their connection. They're asking, "Is this our decision, or are we just acting off of a decision that the cosmos made for us?" It was so fun to navigate that. I always have such a good time with Chris Hollier and with Nathan Dean, just finding the little tiny notches, a tiny bit of movement towards where they're going next. I really loved following them. It's my favorite Max and Liz season to date.

HOLLIER: It's not a season apart. I'll tease that they, in an unexpected way, end up in front of each other relatively soon. But it's really about when am I ready? And what does it mean to talk to my ex? When someone makes such a big influence in your life, when do you know it's over and when do you know you should fight again? We tried to give them real grown-up lives.

Steven Krueger (The Originals) also joined the cast as Heath this season. What can you tease about his character?

HOLLIER: He's just an awesome human being. I know him from The Originals and we were like, "If we're going to have to be stuck with people in the desert, who do we want?" You want to be stuck with a handsome and lovely and charming Steven Krueger. So really this was looking at, "Well, what did Liz want and what does it look like when you start to give Liz versions of what she wants?" Heath is somebody that is beyond being just a lovely person, he is smart and wants to advance science and that's appealing to Liz. It becomes, "What does it look like when the man that I hang around with all day is also into the same things that I am?"

MASON: I love him. Heath is just such a fun, whip-smart, fantastic character. His humor was so fun. We've been having a good time with kicking the humor up really through season two and in season three, we just took it up another notch. There are some moments that are like, "Is this a drama or is it a sitcom?" Looking back on it, he was such a fun partner to spar with. They're both such intellectual characters and I love that there's a real meeting of the minds. It makes it competitive and sexy. I know a lot of fans are so excited because they know him from The Originals and he's going to be a great addition.

Technically, Mr. Jones is a new character too. Can you tell us anything at all about him?

HOLLIER: I'd say he's a new character — and a fully-fleshed interesting new character. Mr. Jones has an awesome beard. At some point, he might lose that beard. A lot of people are asking me, "Is Jones good or bad?" And what I would argue is that's a perspective based upon who you are in the conversation that you're having with him. He knows a lot about our heroes' story and he knows a lot about home. He'll be able to answer questions for them. This season our heroes will get to learn why they ended up here on earth. One of the things I think that people will love is that they're going to get to see that home planet this year. We asked ourselves a lot about this whole season, "What have we set up for the past two?" We look at these first three seasons almost like a trilogy so a lot of things are going to be paid off.

Has Nathan enjoyed pulling double duty this season? Or is he just exhausted?

MASON: He's exhausted, but he's such a champ. That really is the beginning of this mirroring thing that starts with Max and Jones with him actually getting to look at himself to a degree and those questions that come up. The self-analysis that it provokes in him is really the beginning of what is happening to all of our characters this year; everybody's being confronted with themselves. I loved that the Max/Jones of it was also a real sci-fi element.

Did he really grow that beard or was that not possible if he had to go between the two characters?

MASON: That was a prosthetic beard and our makeup team killed it. He was not accustomed to early mornings, which, of course, all of us babes are. It was a lot of extra time in the chair for him.

Can Jones dupe Liz into thinking he's actually Max since she doesn't know he exists?

MASON: You're totally on to something. It's a real and pressing threat. I mean, she's totally in the dark and he looks like her cosmic lover!

HOLLIER: What I will say is that, Liz — beyond her being number one on the call sheet — is integral to this story in a way that she and none of our characters are going to perceive when they start episode one. We're bringing [the characters] to a new crossroads moment in their lives and they're getting, through Jones, a mirror into their own lives to decide what they're going to become next.

How's Rosa (Amber Midthunder) doing this season?

MASON: By the end of season two, Rosa really makes the decision to start taking care of herself. She really becomes an incredible asset to the Scooby-Doo gang. It's something that Liz is in constant adjustment to. As much as she's the younger sister, she feels very protective of her sister and Liz has had to make adjustments in her trust and faith in Rosa. I loved it because it just felt like a real personal, authentic thing that sisters would go through, but also that Hispanic sisters would go through. I think we sometimes, culturally, have a tendency to baby our women — maybe that's the wrong word — but just to underestimate their physical ability and what they might take on, and sort of 'queen' our women in a way where we treat them tenderly. I hate that. I'm a tough bitch and so is Rosa. So Liz has to confront that and go, "I'm an idiot to underestimate you. You've done nothing but prove me wrong."

What about Maria and her visions?

HOLLIER: This year I think Maria has the most complete arc of any season, as she recognizes things about herself that cause more questions about who she is, who her family is, how she's linked to this story. We dive into it in the present-day and we dive deliciously back in time too.

In the exclusive clip above we see her have a vision of a funeral, can you tease anything about who potentially might be about to die?

HOLLIER: Maria is front and center in driving the first half of the mystery for us. She's burdened with trying to figure out whose death she is seeing. It takes a few episodes to unravel and we use it to ask, is this linked to our supernatural stories or real-world stories that are going on politically? Is it bad luck? Is it herself? There's a whole gambit at play. We joke that we solved a past murder, now we're going to try to stop one.

Can Malex (Michael and Alex) shippers have hope that this might finally be their time?

HOLLIER: What I would say is that I think that Malex fans are really going to dig this journey. We, as writers, put them at the same level of importance as Max and Liz. So we wanted to really honor the next step in what they may or may not be. How did they grow up and how did they have those hard conversations just like Liz and Max are going to have?

Is Isobel going to continue to date women this season?

HOLLIER: Isobel is going to go on a more personal journey. You got to love yourself before you can love someone else. We lean into those possibilities by the end of who she might love. It's not something that is dropped all season — it is something that you'll see. We play some romantic comedy stuff with her character this year and with Maria that I think fans are gonna dig. There's a lot going on in the world and wanted to pump some humor and hope into it.

Will see more of Liz fighting to challenge the perception of the Latinx community?

MASON: I think that just by nature of it being one of such few shows that are led by a Latin woman, it's always going to be, to an extent, a protest or an assertion of the space that I get to fill and that Liz Ortecho gets to fill on network TV. I was really excited to just have Chris as a collaborator. Over our hiatus, before the season started, I was doing a lot of reading. I chronicled the books that play into Liz every season on my Instagram. I was reading some Sonia Sotomayor. Her book is just incredible. I was texting him screenshots of pages of the book with things underlined. Ten episodes deep into season 3, he's like, "Remember that page you sent me?" He's a real dream collaborator. I loved him for that. A pressing struggle for people of color is going through the ranks in these big corporations and then sometimes coming to find out that those corporations are purporting to support marginalized groups but actually aren't following through. So how do you, as someone who's having your success, your dreams become reality, navigate supporting the company and giving so much of your intelligence and your work — that they often legally own, especially with science — to a company that isn't going to be for your people?

[lululawrence]

Annual Writing Self Evaluation

Thank you for the tag @louandhazaf!!! I’m honestly clutching my chest that you tagged me, so thank you xxx especially since i love this little self eval that i think @juliusschmidt came up with all those years ago and we just keep perpetuating it haha

this... is going to get long, though. since it asks me to list my works published this year and that is 24. so. here goes.

1. List of works published this year:

Swerve the Handshake (Nick/Louis)

Need So Much of You (Harry/Louis for @onedirectionbigbang)

You're A (Total) Distraction (girl!direction and hybrid Harry/Louis for @wallsficfest)

Always Keep You Next To Me (Greg/Louis for @wallsficfest)

With Your Hand In Mine (Nick/Louis for @wallsficfest)

Smells Like Omega Spirit (Harry/Louis for @1daboficfest)

If Only We Wish Hard Enough (Harry/Louis for @disneydirectionfest)

Political Pizza (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Talk the Night Through (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Wrinkles (Harry/Louis for @1000feelingsfics)

Would You Be My Girlfriend? (girl!direction Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Lately You've Been On My Mind (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

Don't Want It Any Other Way (Harry/Louis for @wordplayfics)

I'm Ready for the Worst (Greg/Louis for @louisandmenfest)

Loving You's the Antidote (Nick/Harry/Louis for @finelineficfest)

Do You Know Who You Are? (Harry/Louis for @finelineficfest)

Don't You Call Him (What You Used To Call Me) (Harry/Louis for @finelineficfest)

Gone Too Long (From You) (Harry/Louis co-written with @fallinglikethis for @finelineficfest)

Just Me and the Stars Can Get Lonely (Niall/Rory McIlroy for @heartbreakweatherficfest)

The Way You Bend the Rules (Niall/Rory McIlroy for @heartbreakweatherficfest)

And Then I Saw His Face (Harry/Louis for @1dtrickortreatfest)

I'mma Give You A Promotion (Nick/Louis)

What You Waiting For? (Nick/Harry for @1000feelingsfics)

(I'm Dreaming of a) One Night Inn (Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam, Niall/Shawn)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

every time i think about this question i’ve got a different answer, to be honest. i do think my I Go Down Blazing, Feeling Like I'm Going Crazy series is probably what i’m most proud of, though. as soon as i knew @runaway-train-works was going to be hosting the heartbreak weather fic fest, i knew i wanted to write dear patience, but as the idea grew and grew and more ideas solidified and i realized what the story was turning into, i realized it was so much more than i originally thought and i needed a second song to help me fully get a solid grasp on it. in the end, it was a hard duo of fics to write, mainly because i honestly don’t know much of anything about golf, i was still trying to create fully the way soulmates worked in the world, and there’s just not all that much about rory online to find, so i was winging it haha but i’m so incredibly happy with the world i made and the fics i wrote, even if i don’t know that they’ll ever get to like 200 hits or whatever hahaha i love them.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

uhhhhh you know looking at this list of fics i have, i’m actually proud of every single one for some reason and i don’t know if there’s any of them that i’d even label as “least proud”.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

i hate this question and forget that it is on this list every year lollll let me see if i can find something i really like. okay i found one, it’s from my long grouis haha and i’m apologizing now for it being so long. you can skip ahead to the next question if you like, but i’m just incredibly proud of the banter and the way i wrote this section, PLUS those damn joggers actually happened because he posted a photo of himself wearing them in the shops on instagram and that inspired this entire thing so. enjoy. (i’ve italicized it and indented it to hopefully make it easier to skip it’s so long i’m so sorry)

“It’s safe for you to come back in here,” Louis called out as he closed his computer. 

“Thank goodness, I was getting so exhausted of hiding in your bedroom and snooping through all your shit,” Greg said as he walked out wearing a sheet mask and a pair of grey joggers that did nothing to hide what he was packing. 

Louis smirked and wanted to say something, but Greg kept going. 

“Did you know you have like five different deodorants in there?”

Louis threw his arm on the back of his couch and nodded. 

“Why?” Greg asked, throwing himself down onto the couch and placing his stupidly long legs on top of Louis’. “Who legitimately needs five different deodorants? Do they have different uses or something? Some were even women’s deodorants, so I wasn’t sure if they were your sisters’ or what. Oh, and I helped myself to one of your fancy toners. It had rosewater in it or something.”

“Well, for the deodorants I just like trying different scents and I switch them up based on my mood. And actually, the one I use most often is a women’s deodorant. It works great. Plus I smell fresh and clean like baby powder all day.” Louis shrugged. “And that wasn’t my toner. Dunno who left it. Just showed up one day and no one says it’s theirs, so I kept it. It’s quite nice, isn’t it? Lotts said it’s supposed to help even out the PH balance of my skin or some shit, but I’ll be fucked if I know what that actually means.”

“Oh, that does sound fancy,” Greg agreed, checking the time on his phone. “I’ve got five more minutes on this mask, don’t let me forget. Don’t want to leave it on so long it burns my skin off or summat.”

“Sure,” Louis said, laughing. “So are you actually wearing anything under these or are you just that excited to see me?”

“Eh?” Greg asked before looking down at his crotch. Of course, now he was sitting down it didn’t show anything. “What are you on about?”

“Stand back up and look in a mirror, mate,” Louis said, laughing. “You’re dick was trying to tell me hello a minute ago.”

“I didn’t tell it to do that,” Greg muttered as he shifted so he could stand back up again. He walked into Louis’ bedroom, and Louis could hear when he’d seen himself. “Oh my God, that’s obscene! Does it always look like that when I wear these?”

Louis laughed and walked into his bedroom to see Greg’s eyes wide as he shifted himself around and walked a bit, appalled that no matter what he did, nothing seemed to make it any less there. 

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never seen you in those. You usually nick a pair of mine,” Louis reminded him. “Do you wear them without pants often?”

“I never wear pants with these,” Greg said, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, I’ve likely given that nan that lives below me too many looks at my cock without even realising it. They’re my softest, most favorite pair of joggers! I wear them to the shops when I’m too knackered to get fully dressed!”

As Greg continued to narrate the various escapades he’d had over the years in the joggers without even realising what he’d been doing, Louis settled onto his bed, propping himself up on his elbow so he could still watch Greg as he motioned about in distress.

When it was clear Greg wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon, Louis pulled out his phone and started filming. There was no one he could share this with, but it would be good for a laugh later on.

“Fuck, and you didn’t remind me to take off my mask!” Greg cried, rushing back into the bathroom to remove the sheet mask and do whatever else he had to do when he used them. 

Greg was proper obsessed with them, said they were relaxing and kept his skin soft. Louis just liked knowing they were one of Greg’s things, like taking regular baths with a bottle of wine and perusing various adoption websites for dogs he could possibly give a good home to.

“Sorry, love,” Louis said, as Greg walked back out of the bathroom. He really was sorry, but he also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to keep taking the piss. Greg was too much fun to rile up. “Was distracted by your big dick flopping about whilst you remembered all the good times you’d had in the joggers.”

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

i’ve had a few this year that told me they don’t usually read that pairing or they don’t usually comment on fics, but for various reasons they gave the pairing a try or wanted to comment because of something specific and those were particularly lovely. that said, every comment is so so great, they really do boost me up to see them and i need to do better with getting my anxiety in hand and responding to them regularly.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

this entire damn year, man. all of the time i’d carefully carved out for myself over the past few years to write was basically blown to shit with the pandemic, which also was so exhausting it didn’t leave me with much energy to write. but i still somehow posted 24 fics?? i dunno, dude. i think writing saved me and gave me something to look forward to, tbh.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

most of my advent fic, tbh lollll a lot that was in there wasn’t really brainstormed ahead of time, it just happened, and i forgot some of the details even because i just flat out didn’t remember what i’d put in there, so i’m STILL surprised haha i love when fics happen like that

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

i always think of challenges as fun and then i look back and wonder if i was insane because i thought it would be fun to try something new but it was mostly really fucking hard haha i wrote a lot of pairings and combinations of tropes this year that i never have before as well as stretching myself with writing emotions and situations i never have before, so i’m quite proud of myself for continuing to push the envelope and try new things like that.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

i mostly hope that i’ll be able to carve more time out for myself as things HOPEFULLY settle down a bit more. i might not be as impulsive when it comes to choosing things to write at that point, but we’ll see. lol

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

i... hmm. there’s a lot of people i’m thinking of right now, but it’s hard to choose just one. i think actually there were two and they were @louandhazaf and @disgruntledkittenface. i very much admire both of them for their own writing and works, but i am particularly inspired by how many pairings they write and the variety of fics they have posted. it’s definitely because of them that i’ve tried writing a lot of the pairings that i have, and that’s before you even start to look at the help they’ve given me with betaing certain fics (usually rare pairs lollll). they’re just both so supportive and open to so many things, and i am so much more open to all sorts of things because of them. i CANNOT answer this without mentioning the Write Your Way Out GC either, though. Y’all are my crew in SO many ways and you let me rely on you in every way through this past year. it really does take a village, doesn’t it?

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

lmao i’m sure. but all i’m thinking of at the moment are the tumblr posts and canon compliant shit i based the fics on, so nothing off the top of my head apparently haha

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

hell if i know. maybe just... write for yourself. i think that’s why i’m so proud of every fic i wrote this year. i really was writing for me and if others like it too? bonus. 

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

my big bang!!! that’s the big one. i’m so excited for it. i have a whole list of other fics, too, though. hahaha i’m also super SUPER excited for both of my omega harry fics to post hehe 

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@becomeawendybird @sadaveniren @londonfoginacup

*All answers should be about works published in 2020. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want.

[adenei]

For Romione as a sequel to your amazing “Go. You go and don’t even think about coming back here.”: BLISS “16” when they find out she’s pregnant ❤️

@my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass aww thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate that! ❤️ Okay, I didn’t think I could beat “Go,” but I hope you’ll enjoy this one just as much. Thank you for the idea!! I hope I did it justice

****************************************

Hermione was standing in the kitchen with Ron, looking over the display of snacks, and checking to make sure all of the furniture and trinkets were perfectly placed. They’d moved into the four bedroom cottage eight weeks ago, and had finally finished making it their own.

Their families would be arriving any minute for a housewarming party and to see the finishing touches they’d put on the place. Ron came up behind Hermione and slipped his arms around her. “Everything’s perfect, love. Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying!” she countered as she turned around and kissed him. 

“Well, you seem wound up for some reason.”

“I’m fine, Ron. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re barmy if you think I ever stop worrying,” he lifted his hands to play with her hair. He went to sneak one more kiss before they heard the fireplace come to life with their first guests.

As they went to go welcome them, Hermione was glad for the distraction. If she was being honest, she did feel a bit wound up. Ever since baby James had made his arrival, Ron and Hermione had agreed that they’d start trying, and if they weren’t successful after a year, they’d seek out a Healer to see what their options could be.

Of course the year mark had passed with no luck, but life had a nasty habit of getting in the way. They’d become wrapped up in work, and then had fallen in love with the cottage they’d chosen to buy. So, they agreed to pursue a healer after they were settled in the home, and Hermione had all but given up three months ago. She and Ron had talked, and they agreed that even if they weren’t able to fill their forever home with their own children, they’d have plenty of space to have sleepovers for the growing number of nieces and nephews in the Weasley family.

The only ones who knew about the after-effects of the Cruciatus were Harry, Ginny, Fleur, and presumably Bill. Hermione didn't want anyone to know, and Ron had reluctantly agreed, though he hated not telling his parents. He felt awful every time Molly would make comments about when Ron and Hermione would have a little one of their own, and her seemingly innocent prying about when it would happen. Hermione was so strong, always politely obliging her mother in law, but never giving anything away. Fleur and Ginny had also protested Hermione’s stubbornness, but stopped when Hermione said it wasn’t up for discussion.

Now that it was mid October, and they were indeed settled, Hermione had every intention of talking to Ron about setting up an appointment with St. Mungo’s. But she’d been so tired lately with the move and renovations, not to mention her workload, that she could barely stay awake past eight o’clock to talk to him about it. As more family members began to arrive, her thoughts had dissipated and she focused on showing off the house, and fighting off another bout of exhaustion. 

Finally, everyone had settled in. The men were out back on the patio, as the kids were playing on the back lawn. Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley were with Audrey and Angelina, doting on the newest babies in the family. Mrs. Weasley had taken James to give Ginny a break, who was sitting in the kitchen with Hermione. Fleur entered through the back door with a platter in hand.

“I needed to bring these inside before the men ate zem all,” she said, placing the platter on the table. “I made them for you, Hermione, I know zey are your favorite.”

“Thanks, Fleur.” Hermione said gratefully. “I suppose one won’t hurt before we eat.” She picked up one of the pink macarons off of the platter and popped it in her mouth. She’d been craving sugar more often lately, and blamed it on Ron’s influence finally wearing her down.

“Mmm, I just love the strawberry ones!” Hermione said as she took another. Both Ginny and Fleur seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” asked Fleur. 

“Oh, bring the sausage rolls that Angelina made over! I love those,” Ginny said.

“You love them or ze baby does?” Fleur teased. Ginny was just beginning to show with her second, very much a surprise, pregnancy. 

“Does it matter? I’m eating for two regardless,” Ginny said nonchalantly. “This go around’s been much easier than with James. I hope it stays that way.”

“Oui, I know how zat goes. But Victoire was much easier than Dominique,” Fleur said as she set the sausage rolls on the table and sat down. “How is everything, Hermione?” she turned her attention across the table as Ginny eagerly added more food to her appetizer plate. 

“It’s been busy with work and the renovations. I’m so glad the house is done so we can finally enjoy living in it. Does life ever seem to slow down?” Hermione responded thoughtfully.

Ginny snorted and spoke before swallowing, her mouth half full of food. “No, if anything it just keeps getting crazier. Just wait until you have kids!” Ginny hadn’t thought before she spoke, but quickly realized her mistake as Hermione’s face fell. “Hermione, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking! I didn’t mean-”

Fleur cut her off. “Still no luck?” she asked in an empathetic voice. 

Hermione shook her head. “We’ve just stopped trying. Everything’s too stressful, and we’ve decided to contact a Healer soon, but it just keeps getting pushed back with everything.”

The three women were sitting quietly, when all of a sudden Hermione caught a whiff of the sausage rolls, and felt as though she might be sick. Ginny and Fleur noticed the abrupt change of expression.

“Everything alright, Hermione?” Ginny asked slowly.

“Yes, I think so. It’s just the smell of the sausage. It doesn’t seem to be agreeing with me today.” Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

“That’s odd, I thought you liked them.” Fleur said.

“I do! At least, I think I do. My stomach must be off. All the stress and nerves from preparing for today.” 

Hermione was able to pass the uncomfortable feeling as they fell into easy conversation about the kids, until another sudden wave of nausea hit Hermione. This time, she couldn’t pass it off. “I’ll be right back.” Hermione got up quickly from the table and ran upstairs to the bathroom in her bedroom. She didn’t have time to shut any of the doors as she barely made it to the toilet before she got sick. 

Ginny looked at Fleur. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“I do not know. She certainly doesn’t seem like herself,” Fleur contemplated out loud. 

“I’m going to check on her.” Ginny got up and Fleur followed.

When Hermione felt that she was done, she sat back, away from the toilet and leaned against the tub. 

“Hermione?” Fleur called. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m in here. I’m fine. Something must not have agreed with my stomach is all.” She slowly got to her feet, and rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash. Fleur was waiting for her in the doorway while Ginny sat on her bed. “I’m fine, really. Let’s go back downstairs,” Hermione insisted.

“Not a chance. Sit,” Ginny said as she padded the bed. Fleur shut the bedroom door as Hermione did as Ginny told her. “Now what’s really going on? You look exhausted, and clearly you’re not feeling well.”

“I-I don’t know,” Hermione was thinking. “I’ve been so tired over the past few weeks, and I don’t feel like I’ve been doing anything overly exhausting. I’m in bed by seven or eight every night, and I’m still tired in the morning when I wake up. This is the first time I’ve actually felt sick though. I can’t tell you the last time I threw up,” she said trying to remember. 

“Have you been eating more sugar lately? Maybe your stomach doesn’t agree with it,” Ginny suggested. 

“Why would you say that?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen you indulge in more than one sweet in a sitting, but you popped two macarons in less than a minute. You always ration them out for yourself. And what’s up with the sausage rolls? You love those! Remember last time we tried to eat more than Harry and Ron?” Ginny said laughing at the memory.

“Oh, God, that was such a mistake. Maybe that’s why the smell turned me off. Too many the last time.” Hermione chuckled at Ginny’s reminder.

“Hermione,” Fleur interrupted. “When was your last period?”

Hermione looked at Fleur. “What? Why?”

“Just wondering.” Fleur said.

Ginny looked from Fleur to Hermione, the possibility of Fleur’s words dawning on her. “You don’t think…” she whispered.

Hermione thought about it. “It’s been at least...eight weeks? I don’t know. It ended just before we moved in. But my periods have been so irregular ever since the hunt. I’ve gone nine weeks without one before, so eight isn’t out of the ordinary for me.” Hermione wasn’t catching Fleur’s insinuation.

“Yes, but Hermione, when’s the last time you’ve had these symptoms between periods?” Ginny pressed.

“Symptoms? What do you mean, symptoms? None of this matches my period ailments.” Hermione said.

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to say!” Ginny said exasperatedly. “Nausea...food aversion...food cravings...exhaustion…” She listed everything slowly for Hermione.

When Hermione stared at Ginny blankly, Fleur said, “Hermione, do you think you could be pregnant?”

Hermione's expression turned wide eyed as she stared at Fleur. “Well, I guess, maybe?”

“Have you or have you not had sex with Ron since your last period?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Of course we’ve had sex since my last period! What kind of question is that?” Hermione retorted.

“Fleur, do the spell!” Ginny said excitedly, her voice raised.

“Only if Hermione wants me to,” Fleur looked at Hermione. “Maybe she’d rather have Ron here for this than us.”

“No, no, do it, please! I don’t want to get his hopes up if this is a false alarm.”

“Have you had any of those?” Ginny asked interestedly.

“No,” Hermione hung her head. “I told you, I’d all but given up.”

“Well, all hope may not be lost,” Fleur said. “Lay back on the bed, and lift up your shirt to reveal your stomach.” Hermione did as Fleur instructed. She knew the charm, and had always cast it secretly each month, hoping beyond measure, but always revealing a negative outcome. Her hands were shaking too much to even try at the current moment, so she entrusted Fleur instead.

Fleur cast the charm, and instead of the yellow negative color Hermione had become so used to seeing over the past year, the ball of light over her stomach turned a deep, bright purple. Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes,as the tears welled up instantaneously.

“You are indeed pregnant. Very much so,” Fleur said with a wide smile as Ginny squealed uncontrollably.

“Let me try the charm!” Hermione said suddenly, as if not believing what Fleur had just revealed. Sure enough, the same deep purple color appeared in a ball as Hermione performed the charm with her own wand. “I can’t believe it. I really didn’t think- after what the mediwitch said three years ago. I need to tell Ron!” Hermione’s thoughts were running a mile a minute.

Ginny hopped off the bed, “I’ll go get him!”

“Ginny, do not even think of giving anything away!” Ginny stopped in the doorway to let Hermione finish. “And don’t you dare tell anyone either! No one can know until after we’ve seen a Healer and can confirm everything is fine and the baby is healthy, and will be able to grow.”

Ginny pouted, “Not even Harry?”

“No! Not even Harry. Let Ron be able to tell him. Ron’ll kill you if you take that away from him.”

“Ugh, fine!” she said as she opened the door and headed toward the backyard.

Hermione pulled her shirt down and sat up as Fleur leaned in to hug her. “I am so happy for you both. I know how hurt you were when you found out, and I’ve carried a lot of guilt, thinking I could have done something more to prevent it.”

Hermione smiled at her sister-in-law. “Fleur, you probably saved my life with your quick action that day. I’ll never forget that. I don’t blame you for anything, so please don’t blame yourself.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” she said as she stood up. They could hear Ron bounding up the stairs. “I’ll see you in a bit,” as she smiled knowingly.

Ron entered their bedroom abruptly. “What’s wrong? Hermione, are you alright?” he asked as he noticed her on the bed. Fleur had slipped out and closed the door behind her.

“I’m fine, Ron, how many times do I have to tell you that.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the grin on her face. 

“But Ginny made it seem urgent. Told me not to make a scene and just go in the house casually. What the bloody hell is going on, Hermione. Why were you three up here?”

“Well,” Hermione wasn’t sure where to start, but trusted her brain to make the right words come out, “I had to come upstairs because I felt sick, and I ended up throwing up in the toilet. Ginny and Fleur came up to check on me.”

“But you haven’t gotten sick like that in- I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you sick like that…” Ron interrupted.

“I know, Ron. So anyways, I explained how it was sudden, and how I’ve been tired all the time, among a few other things, and well…” Hermione held her wand up shakily and performed the charm nonverbally again. The same tiny ball shot out of her wand tip and turned the same shade of purple for a third time. 

Ron stared at the ball, then looked down at Hermione’s stomach before meeting her eyes with a shocked look of his own.

“Hermione,” he whispered, “Are you really…”

“Pregnant. Yes!” She said as fresh tears glistened in her eyes. She dropped her wand, breaking the charm as Ron leaned over her and met her lips with his. 

“I love you. I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re actually...how long?”

“Eight weeks, I think.”

“When do you think we-” he didn’t finish his sentence as he leaned into her and started kissing her again.

She thought through the kiss, and broke away, when she’d done the math and realized when it happened. “I think it was our first night here,” she said quietly.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, reigniting their snog.

Before they got too carried away, Hermione gently pushed at his chest. “Ron, you know I’d love to keep going, but we’ve got a house full of people downstairs who might wonder where we are.”

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right,” he said reluctantly as he pulled away. She laughed. 

Before she could get up, Ron moved down toward her belly, and gently placed a soft kiss on it, before setting his hand down where he’d just kissed where he imagined their unborn baby to be, growing inside of her. “I haven’t even met you yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much, besides your Mum of course, and I’ve only just met you.” He leaned in to give Hermione one more kiss before getting up and holding out his hand to help her up as well.

Both Hermione and Ron knew they weren’t out of the woods yet because the scar tissue could prevent the healthy growth of the baby, and Hermione knew she’d need to owl straightaway for an appointment. But something felt so right, and there was excitement and happiness that had been restored in her heart that gave her the hope to believe everything would be alright. In seven short months they’d finally bring this long awaited child into the world.

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

It was at the tail end of 2017 when Cora*, a frontline worker for a south London organisation supporting women who have survived sexual violence, realised that undercurrents of transmisogyny had become a new precedent for her workplace.

“I just remember there being far more comments like ‘Yeah we only support real women’,” Cora says.

Both visibility and hostility were on the rise for trans people in the UK thanks to proposed reform to the Gender Recognition Act. As a result, many junior workers were attempting to ensure inclusivity for trans survivors. But senior staff, made up of cis women, responded by shutting down the conversation altogether.

Cora’s organisation is not an island. On record, gal-dem has spoken to workers in the violence against women and girls [VAWG] sector, who have spent time at organisations including Imkaan, Rape Crisis, Refuge, Amnesty International and Liberty, academics working in the field of gender studies and members of the dedicated gender-based violence branch of union United Voices of the World. Of the workers who spoke to gal-dem, all were too terrified of reprisals to use their real names.

Alongside interviews, gal-dem examined records of public statements made by senior members of organisations like Nia, Southall Black Sisters, and the Centre for Women’s Justice. What emerges is a hostile landscape to navigate for trans survivors of sexual violence, both in accessing immediate frontline services and overcoming ideology that seeks to shut them out of the gender-based violence sector (GBV) in general. With one in six trans women experiencing domestic violence between 2017 to 2018 (and more recent figures suggesting violence against trans people remains high), this landscape’s hostility is undoubtedly already having damaging effects.

At Cora’s organisation, it quickly became apparent that senior staff were deliberately shelving pressing trans-related issues, in the hope that they would disappear altogether. Cora alleges that the CEO Rachel*, who had served as the head of the organisation for nearly three decades, encouraged a culture that was openly hostile to trans women.

Regular requests for the centre’s policy regarding trans women were lodged, but the policy didn’t exist. A lone attempt to create a gender inclusion policy ended with the firing of the employee tasked with producing it. As Cora remembers it, the day after the employee submitted their work, they were told their position was no longer viable. Although it wasn’t cited as a factor in the decision, Cora believes the incident speaks for itself. The policy was not adopted by the centre.

Staff soon began to organise and demand an outright commitment to supporting trans people, pushing the transphobic views of senior management into the open.

“We do get abusive callers on the helpline. But they present as men, not as trans women”

Cora remembers one member of the counselling department declaring that it was “unsafe” for cis survivors using the centre’s services to have people in the building who had not fully medically transitioned. She was challenged by Cora and her colleagues, who explained that this transmisogyny went against the fundamental principles of sexual violence workers: that you must believe survivors.

“I find it fascinating in a horrific way that this bedrock of [sexual violence services] is thrown out of the window immediately,” Cora observes. “They say, ‘Oh, men will just call up pretending to be women, and saying that they’re trans to get into the space to enact harm’.

“Do you not think we are trained in such a way that we are able to speak to someone and know? Because we do get abusive callers on the helpline. But they present as men, [not as trans women]… When you get a call like that, you know. As soon as you pick up the phone, it doesn’t feel right. The gut that you’ve honed so wonderfully and beautifully to do this work, it knows”.

When Cora and her colleague refuted transmisogynistic claims, the goalposts shifted. Senior staff instead claimed they weren’t equipped to work with trans women because they wouldn’t “understand” their experience with sexual violence. Tellingly, one staff member who used such a defence said they would feel comfortable supporting trans men who had “experienced violence as women” – revealing that they didn’t recognise trans men as men.

“There is a real focus on the penis,” Cora says.

Cora left the organisation a few years ago, in part due to the virulent transmisogyny that had become the norm. Rachel stepped down from the CEO position in 2020, after what Cora describes as “successful unionising efforts” from the organisation’s staff. While the new CEO is “far more inclusive”, Cora says, her former co-workers report that hostility to trans survivors persists.

“The problem is much deeper than top down,” she says. “It runs through most of the services.”

Women vs women

Cora’s organisation has become part of a larger war. Transphobia – or ‘gender criticism’ as its proponents like to position it – has become a battleground for a small but powerful pocket of UK feminists. With access to mainstream media platforms, large social media audiences and political influence, these ‘gender-critical’ feminists are attempting to turn trans people from a minority group into a full-scale moral panic.

But where does the antagonism towards trans people in the VAWG sector come from? Academic Alison Phipps, professor of gender studies at the University of Sussex, links it to “political whiteness”. Transmisogyny in the UK is focused on violence against white, cis women and “lasers in” on the male body as the source of that violence, Phipps explains. “There’s a lot of straight, [white], privileged [cis] women involved. Whiteness has a lot to do with it. Whiteness and class privilege.”

Weaponising woundedness against marginalised groups has always been a core component of white womanhood and political whiteness, adds Phipps. “It’s Carolyn Bryant [Emmett Till’s accuser] all over again,” she says. “[Trans-exclusionary feminism] is grounded in fear and, in some cases, a hatred of the Other and a deep need for protection.”

For the last few years, trans-exclusionary feminists central objective – achieved for the time being – was to prevent reforms to the Gender Recognition Act that promised to make the process of legally identifying as trans or non-binary (which isn’t a recognised legal identity at the time of writing) far quicker.

A spotlight fell on women-only services for survivors of sexual and domestic abuse as a result. In order to provide rationale for their aversion to trans individuals, the gender-critical cabal alighted upon whipping up fear around trans women who might need to access such spaces. For trans-exclusionary feminists, the argument goes that allowing self-determination through GRA reforms would open up ‘single-sex’ sites to ‘predatory men’, who would supposedly pretend to be women in order to perpetuate abuse.

Yet trans women, with some exceptions, already have access to single-sex spaces under the 2010 Equality Act, which would remain unchanged by any amendments to the GRA. Furthermore, no countries that already allow self-determination have reported any sudden trend of cis men engaging in such behaviours. A 2018 Guardian investigation found that Ireland, which introduced self-determination in 2015, has seen “no evidence” of new legislation leading to men “falsely declaring themselves female”.

No matter; gender critical feminists in the UK still insist that the sex assigned at birth must decide who is admitted to women-only spaces. Never mind that multiple global studies show that trans women report sexual and domestic violence at double the rate of cis women (with trans women of colour facing the most peril) – but, as with cis women, the perpetrators were most likely to be men.

“Trans-exclusionary feminism is grounded in fear and, in some cases, a hatred of the Other”

Phipps believes many transphobic, white radical feminists also think that acknowledging their own privileges compared to the likes of trans women is tantamount to erasing their traumatic experiences. “It’s as if they think ‘if you tell us we’re privileged because we’re cis, that means we haven’t been raped or haven’t experienced these awful things’,” she observes. “Well of course you have and that’s awful and it’s because of your gender. But that doesn’t mean you don’t also have race and class and cis privileges.”

In the VAWG sector in particular, Phipps says there is the feeling of “living in the past”, with particular aping of the 1970s women’s liberation movement. It’s a notable reference point for trans-exclusionary feminists, many of whom experienced the movement as young women. But they’ve created a warped pastiche that erases contemporary critiques of white radical feminism that were made at the time, says Phipps.

Radical feminist texts of the 1970s were often trans-inclusive. While the likes of Andrea Dworkin held problematic notions around issues like sex work, they weren’t trans-exclusionary and didn’t see the body in “essentialist” terms. In stark contrast, trans-exclusionary feminists of the present, do.

The crusade against trans women is tragic, says Phipps, a focus of energies on completely the wrong target. “There is a war against women worldwide,” she says. “But trans women are also [victims] of this war, not the perpetrators.”

A worsening situation

Frontline VAWG workers say that hierarchical power structures mean transmisogyny is often sanctioned from the top. Close ties between powerful names in the sector mean it is hard to challenge for fear of being blacklisted from multiple organisations. Nevertheless, those who spoke to gal-dem said they did so out of a desire to lift a lid on the situation and encourage more scrutiny of the reality behind the press releases.

“I couldn’t [continue to] work for an LGBTQ charity that poses like it’s inclusive,” says Lily* a former employee of one high profile organisation serving sufferers of domestic violence. She says she witnessed virulent transmisogyny during her time there.

One incident occurred when Lily’s workplace was developing a helpline for clients. She and her colleagues were concerned that the helpline wasn’t inclusive enough because the organisation didn’t have a gender inclusion policy. They asked for clarity on who the helpline was for.

“The reply from [Martha* the director of operations at the organisation] and another senior staff member was that ‘if they sound like a woman on the phone, talk to them’,” remembers Lily. “‘If they don’t sound like a woman, it doesn’t matter if they say they are, hang up. We’re not supporting them’.”

Lily also heard references to “men-women”, assertions that only “biological women” should have access to refuges and accusations from a senior staff member that junior employees were behaving like “perpetrators” by supporting trans-inclusivity as it put them on the side of “men”.

“They told us: if they don’t sound like a woman, it doesn’t matter if they say they are, hang up”

According to those present at one group meeting, a staff member declared that there needed to be a “step back” on giving “privileges” to trans women because they were damaging support being provided to “women”. The staff member is also alleged to have said this view was the organisation’s “policy” as well, blaming trans-inclusive terms like “person with a cervix” for having “erased” cis women.

Allegations of increased transmisogyny are mirrored across the sector. Eva, a non-frontline VAWG worker who has spent time at multiple women’s organisations, says she became aware the issue wasn’t going away in 2016.

One early indicator came when Eva posted on a social media platform, from the official account of one prominent organisation about the death of a trans woman in a men’s prison. The next day, she says, she was handed a social media policy that “explicitly stated” she was not allowed to post about trans people anymore.

Even in supposedly inclusive environments within the women’s sector, transmisogyny simmers, says Eva. Her organisation, which focuses on ending gender violence for Black women and girls, still throws up obstacles when it comes to officially including trans women, including a failure to create and implement a trans-inclusive policy.

She also believes economic factors have caused trans women to become a lightning rod of the frustrations and fears of some cis women within the field.

As she explains it, many of the more senior positions in the modern VAWG sector are filled by women who have been there since its foundation. They’ve seen funding and resources chipped away by successive governments, resulting in resignation that “they’re never going to win a victory over the government”.

Collective fightback

Eva stresses that she doesn’t believe the sector itself to be transphobic and that younger, more junior members of staff tend to be fiercely trans-inclusive. There are some power players in the sector attempting to make change.

Cara English, head of public engagement at trans-led charity Gendered Intelligence (GI), says that she’s been approached by CEOs of VAWG organisations to provide training on trans inclusivity to staff. But plans have been stymied by the individualised structures of centres and refuges subject to the decisions of CEOs.

“[GI] met with the CEO of probably the largest VAWG service provider in the UK,” Cara recounts. “She was saying transphobia is very prevalent and she’s not content with it. But there’s not really a great deal they can do apart from bringing training from trans organisations in house.”

The situation is particularly dire in England and Wales. Scotland however, while no utopia for trans survivors, offers a look at how trans inclusivity can begin to be implemented.

Simple commitments have made huge differences to services says Mridul Wadhwa, manager of the Forth Valley Rape Crisis Centre in central Scotland. One such initiative is the LGBT Charter, a programme which includes education on trans inclusion. Completion of the course sees organisations given a digital “badge” to display on-site, letting survivors know they are an inclusive space.

As a trans woman managing a refuge, Wadhwa says she has received “unnecessary negative attention”, despite over 15 years of experience in the sector. After a recent bid to become an SNP candidate, she was even hit with accusations online that she had “lied” by not disclosing her trans identity when she was first employed in 2005 by Shakti Women’s Aid.

“This was before the Equality Act,” she remembers. “I said in an interview that if [Shakti Women’s Aid] had known I was trans, they would not have hired me. But everyone knew I was trans when I was [hired] for my current position.”

Wadhwa’s experience has taught her that many trans women survivors seeking support are too fearful of being faced with transmisogyny to approach services in the first place. This renders them invisible within the sector, despite being a group disproportionately affected by sexual and domestic violence.

“You have to be explicit that you’re inclusive, you cannot assume that people know,” Wadhwa says, adding that as a member of intersecting minority groups, she expects to be “oppressed in every place I go”.

“You have to wear the badge – these things make a huge difference, as well as word of mouth recommendations spread by survivors who have worked with you. There also needs to be a trans-inclusive workplace policy”.

“You have to be explicit that you’re inclusive, you cannot assume that people know”

For workers who want to push back against institutionalised transphobia, organising collectively offers a glimmer of hope.

Cora tells me that challenging transphobia was a key driver of unionising efforts by herself and colleagues who didn’t feel “safe” enough to do so as individual unprotected workers. Meanwhile, a spokesperson for the workers union United Voices of World, which has a dedicated arm for workers in the gender-based violence sector, says that one of the union’s goals is fighting transphobia in the field.

Those pushing for change recognise that while the pocket of women they’re up against is small and unrepresentative, they’re powerful, with a reach that extends into the upper echelons of journalism, the legal system and the halls of Westminster. All workers who spoke about the transphobia they’d witnessed feared the impact their whistleblowing might have on the sector, which they stressed still does vital work. But as Eva puts it, if the services are not working for all women, they’re ultimately failing in their purpose.

“If frontline services aren’t working for all women, they’re not working for any of us really,” she says. “They’re not rooted in our liberation or justice.”

Pulling trans-inclusive training in-house, as suggested by Cara English is also a key goal. But it will take determination and demand on the part of the workers within those organisations.

And ultimately, it will need the battle-weathered radical feminists perpetuating transmisogyny in the the GBV sector to do something they are unused to: rethink the dogmatic approach that has for so long served as a survival technique but now works to oppress a deeply vulnerable group of women.

The entire situation is, says Cara English, a “degradation”.

“The fact we’re still in a position when we’re actively having to humanise trans women and trans people to services that would seek to exclude us, in order to get into places that we should have the right to access… this is just an obscene position to be in,” she adds.

“It’s a wholesale failure to take into account the needs of trans people. It’s embarrassing. The issue isn’t that trans women aren’t accessing VAWG services. It’s that people aren’t seeing this joint fight against the patriarchy and the oppression of all women.

“That’s where we need to be focusing our attention. It’s about solidarity between all people who need help and an escape”.

*Names have been changed to protect identities

[iamyoursinblog]

Chance meeting

Pairing: Jaebeom x Reader (Jackson , Yugyeom, BamBam, Mark, Jinyoung)

Genre: POV you - fluff, POV Jaebeom - smut

Word Count:  5 k

LIST

_______________________

POV You

You drove up to the club and dialed Jackson . Am I his personal driver?, you thought. They don't have a manager? What am I doing here? You didn't know guys of the rest of his band. If it wasn't for Jackson, you wouldn't be listening to k-pop at all. But their songs were really good.

"Ooh... Baby are you here?" a drunken voice answered your call.

"I'm outside the club"

"Baby, come to us, it's so much fun. You have to dance with us!"

"Jackson, you're either going out now or I'm going home and you're taking a taxi by yourself!"

"Baby, what if we get a terrible driver. We're so drunk, and he'll take our pictures and put it in the SNS. They'll get me kicked out of the group. I'll  go to bankrupt after paying fines for breach of contract. I'll  be homeless. And my parents will die from the horror that they have a terrible son like me" he whined at you.

"Oh, shut up... I'll come now, just shut up!"

"I'm waiting for you baby!" he shouted and hung up.

God, what a moron... Why did you pick up the fucking phone when he first called you? You were wearing high rise skinny jeans and a v-neck tight top. You were glad that there were always several pairs of stilettos in your trunk. Choosing blue to match the color of your top you changed your shoes. You fixed your makeup and let your hair down. You looked at yourself in the reflection of the car and mentally killed Jackson who always drags you into trouble. 'Yes, in outfit like this, I have not yet appeared in the club'. Pulling out your leather clutch, you headed toward the club. Seeing the familiar security guard near the back door you came up to him and he passed you inside. When you got to the right VIP room, you went inside. You just froze in the doorway from the painting you saw. Jackson danced shirtlessly on the table shouting the words of the song. BamBam and Yugyeom danced in the middle of the room to a dance of a women's band that was playing. You sighed. 'What the hell did I pick up the phone', you scolded yourself again. Turning around, you noticed Jaebeom who was watching everything that was happening with an indifferent look. Apparently he sees it every day, poor fellow.

"BABY!!!" Jackson shouted and all eyes rushed at you. Hell Jackson what the hell... BamBam and Yugyeom were reeling over alcohol, you weren't even sure they saw you. But nevertheless they politely bowed and said hello loudly. God it so embarrassing. You bowed to the greeting. Jackson was still dancing on the table, waving his shirt over his head. He threw his shirt on the floor and began to show different hearts in your direction...

You quickly walked past BamBam and Yugyeom apologizing.

"Baby I've been waiting for you" he said showing big heart over his head. You went up to them and hit him the hip a few times.

"What the hell are you doing here, jerk?" you growled with anger. No wonder they're dangerous to ride in a taxi. You lifted his shirt off the floor and threw it in his face "Get dressed fast before I kill you!" you shouted. Turning to the others, you bowed and apologized. He knelt on the table and dutifully began to put on his shirt. You heard the laughter coming from behind.

"Yes, madam. I'm sorry, madam. I won’t be like that anymore, madam" Jackson said with his eyes down. The younger guys spruces held back the laughter watching him.

"Wow... what's the influence" Jaebeom said. You turned and bowed to say hello, he said hello in response.

"Baby let's go to your restaurant, I'm so hungry! Prepare something delicious for us."

You slapped him on the shoulder while he buttoned up his shirt. You force-squeezed his shoulder and said, "So you called me here because you're hungry? Am I not only your personal driver, but your personal chef now? Have you lost your mind, petty?!"

"Ay, ah, ah... It hurts..." He lay down on the table and began to capricious as a child.

"Either you voluntarily get up from the table and behave like a good child, or I will force you ” you said, throwing a bag on the table near his head. Seconds later, he jumped off the table and bowed.

Jaebeom put the glass on the table and laughed loudly. "Well, she's my idol from today" he said clapping.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to embarrass you," you said turning to the others.

“I'm hungry too,” said Uh. “Oh, I didn't mean that. We can drop by somewhere. Even a 24-store with a ramen will be good for us. Don't worried” waving his hands quickly.

“The only one I can not worry about is yours leader. If someone sees you in this state, it will be bad.” You looked at them as they continued to stagger barely standing on their feet due to alcohol. “If you have already finished having fun, let's go”

"Baby you're the best," Jackson said, lifting you up in the air, causing one of your shoes to fly off your feet.

"Aya... You keep upsetting me" you said when he put you to place.

"Sorry madam" Jackson said in search of your shoe. You leaned on the table, looking for at the floor your shoe. Found. You went to the side of the table under which your shoe was lying. Someone's hand reached for the shoe, raising your eyes you saw Jaebeom. He got up from the table coming up to you "Here" he handed you. You took the shoe, but he didn't let it go right away. He removed his hand only after you met his eyes, he chuckled.

"Great. Now we can go," Jackson said as he left the room. Everyone followed him. You were the last to watch Jaebeom walking ahead. 'Interesting guy', you thought.

"Back door," you shouted when Jackson turned the wrong way.

You came to the back exit "Are you leaving, beauty?" said the guard, oblivious to the guys.

Four guys looked at you first and then the guard. "Interesting" Jaebeom said, going outside.

You got in the car and drove off. Jackson sat in front and drove you crazy singing along to the songs. Well, like singing along, just screaming with all hus might. Somehow Jaebeom ended up between BamBam and Yugyeom, who were danced. Every time you looked in the rearview mirror you met at Jaebeom gaze. You turned into the parking lot at the back of the restaurant so no one could see you.

"Come out. We've arrived." You went inside and Jackson immediately walked up to the couch and fell on top of him. BamBam and Yugyeom did the same. "Wait a little bit, I'll try to cook something fast. The bar's there if you want a drink," you said as you went to the kitchen. You put your hair on top so it doesn't get in the way. Wearing an apron, you opened the fridge. You've chosen a few ingredients for pasta. Turning around you almost let the container out of your hands, Jaebeom stood in the doorway and watched you. "You scared me" whispered leaning on the fridge.

"I'm sorry, i didn't want to scare you, but they're ravage your bar. If you want to stop them, hurry up," he said as he came into the kitchen.

"It's not a big deal. They won't be able to drink much in their condition anyway."

"Can I help you?" he asked, "Although it must be silly to ask if the chef needs help," he laughed.

"I said the restaurant mine, but I'm not the chef. I just love cooking," you said.

"How long have you known Jackson? You're dating?"

"No, no, no, hell no way! We're just friends."

"So you're not dating anyone? I didn't think you'd come to the club to pick up a friend at night if you were had a boyfriend."

"You're right, I don't have anyone. I don't have time for this kind of nonsense. Restaurant takes all the time, who needs a girl who spends all her time at work" said you slicing ingredients

"Are you sure you're not a chef? You're pretty professional about wielding a knife."

"I'm an amateur. You can give me spaghetti from that drawer," you pointed your hand at the cupboard.

"Of course"

You kept talking until Jackson came in. “We are hungry. Madam Chef, can we have some food? ”

“God, what a naughty child. 5 minutes, I need only 5 minutes, ”you said. “And make the music quieter,” you shouted after him when he left the kitchen

“How can you be so calm when they behave this way”

“When I entered the VIP room, you also sat with the most calm look, watching what was happening there,” you said, turning to him, pointing at him with a knife.

"I see almost that almost every time they're drunk. I'm used to it," he put away the knife. And he came a step closer to you.

"I'm used to saw drunk Jackson, too," you said, putting your hand down.

"You were quite overbearing, when you spoke to him. It was interesting to watch like someone, who didn't listen to anyone, kneeling in front of you."

"I can give you some advice. Although judging by your glance, you do not need them" you've turned to cook "Is pasta ready, can you help take the plates?"

"Of course I'll help" you served him two plates and you took three. "It can see that you're working in a restaurant," he said with a smile. You went back to the hall together.

All the time you were eating, Jaebeom wouldn't take your eyes off you. After eating while the guys were dancing and a leader was trying to calm them down, you quickly cleaned up the hall and the kitchen. Then you left the restaurant. This time Jaebeom sat in front, and three bodies slept in the back seat. You knew where to go because you used to drive Jackson a lot.

"Do you know where our dorm is?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course it's not the first time I've taken this drunken body home," you nodded toward the sleeping Jackson who was in the middle.

"I was interested in meeting you today," Jaebeom said as you drove to their home.

"Me too, before I've only heard of you, all the time"

"I hope only good things?"

"It's definitely not bad, let's say - fun things!" you smiled at him

You got out of the car helping the others get out, Yugyeom lost balance when he getting up and swayed forward hugging you.

"Hey moron you're doing it?" shouted Jaebeom while holding BamBam.

"Sorry nuna" the maknae bowed low.

"Everything okay, Yugyeom. You're barely stand on your feet" you went up to him, took his hand and put it on your shoulders. "Hold on to me, I'll help you get to the elevator."

You took them to the elevator and say goodbye to everyone again. Jackson moved forward to hug you, but Jaebeom grabbed him by the collar returned back to the elevator.

"See you again" said Jaebeom and the elevator door closed.

"See you again" you repeated the closed door.

You drove home and went up to the apartment. You were lying in bed after a shower and your thoughts occupied only Jaebeom. Wonder if you'll have one more opportunity to see him.

"Interesting man" you said with a smile.

The first time you didn't regret drove a drunk Jackson at home.

 POV Jaebeom

It's been almost a week since he's been drinking and meeting you. He sat in the studio and looked at one point for half an hour. All his thoughts have been about you all this week. Something has to be done with it, he thought. He dialed Jinyoung and call:

"Hi, where are you?"

"Hi, me and Mark made shopping."

"Have you eaten already? Would you like pasta?"

"Oh yes, we're hungry. We were just thinking about where to dine. Any suggestions?"

"Yes, there is one restaurant with delicious pasta. I'll send an address in the message, meet you outside the restaurant" he said, and hung up. He quickly typed the address and sent it, he fast left the studio.

Half an hour later, he was there. He saw Jinyoung and Mark just getting out of the taxi.

"Is it here? It's look cool." Mark said as he came closer.

They walked through the door and were greeted with a smile by the hostesses behind the counter.

"Welcome. Do you have a booked?" she said, and her smile became even wider when she recognized them.

"Did you book a table?" asked Jinyoung

"I'm sorry, I didn't think about it " he replied

"Don't worry, please. It's okay, I'll come up with something now. Go to the bar for a while, please” the girl said politely.

"Thank you very much. We heard you have a great pasta, we would love to try it" said Mark following the girl. She thanked for the compliment. Having led you to the bar she approached to a group of waiters at the other end of the bar.

While the boys were ordering drinks, he looked around the room hoping to find you. 'Maybe she’s not here today', he thought as he examined the tables. The restaurant was quite crowded. Found! You sat back to him with two men at a table that was full off with catalogs and papers. Your hair was partially bundled and held only thanks to the handle that you used instead of the hair stick. The girls at the next table recognized you, and gasped. They pointed at you and smiled. It caught your attention. You first looked at the girls, and then at the source of their interest. Turning your head to the bar, you grinned at the sight of him. Apologizing, you got up from the table and headed toward bar. He was happy to see you. You were wearing red oversize qipao blouse with side and back cuts and low waist straight cotton pants. Thanks to the hairstyle, you looked like the heroine of a manhua.

"Hi. I didn't know you had a Chinese restaurant" he said in an examination of you.

"Hello" turned in your direction said Mark and Jinyoung

"Hello" you said hello to everyone bowing a little. "I had a meeting with Chinese suppliers, I thought it wasn't a bad outfit choice," you said smiling.

Before you could say anything else, a hostess-girl came up next to you and whispered something in your ear. You turned around looking around the hall.

"Take them to the third VIP" you said to her, and she looked at you puzzled. "I'll deal with it" you replied to her view.

"Of course, director. Please, follow me, I'll take you to your table" said the girl pointing the direction.

"You're busy today, Madam Director. I'm sorry for bringing in more trouble."

"Jaebeom, everything fine. Don't worry. Besides, I'll be free soon."

You went back to the side of the table you were sitting at. You followed a girl deep into the restaurant.

"Did we take booked place?" Mark asked the girl, followed for a her.

"No, no, no... Please, come in" the girl wide smiled and opened the door letting you into the room. In the middle of wood room stood a table for four. "Sit down, please, the waiter in a minute will bring your drinks from the bar and menu. Having a great evening" she left the room, bowing.

"So this is the girl that Yugyeom talked about?" asked Mark sitting down at the table.

"Jackson's friend?" added Jinyoung.

"Yes, it's her" replied Jaebeom

The door opened and the waitress went inside. She put up your drinks and handed out the menu. No matter, that her cheeks were blushing and she was clearly a theirs fan, but she behaved very professionally.

"Let's order first snacks under the aperitif" suggested Jinyoung and all agreed. They made an order and after the waiter came out, began to discuss the schedule and future projects.

A while later there was a knock at the door, and then you went inside.

"Are everything good?" you asked inspected your table. He smiled "Everything is excellent," they said at the same time, and laughed at it.

"It's good! Have you already made an order for the main course?"

"Yugyeom and BamBam were so touted the pasta they ate, but unfortunately we didn't find it on the menu," Mark said.

"It would be weird if you found her there" you laughed. "It was an improvisation, not a restaurant dish. But I'm pleased to hear that they like the pasta. I'll see what I can do" you said, and left the room.

"Oops, I didn't know it wasn't on the menu." said Jaebeom finishing his drink.

"I hope we don't cause her any trouble," Jinyoung said.

A minute later, the hostess-girl entered the room. "I'm sorry, if it doesn't bother you, can we take a picture of you for oure 'star wall', before you move on to the main course. It's okay if you say no, we don't want to embarrass you when you're resting" she politely bowed.

"Yes, of course. We'd love to do it for you. The service is very good, it's the least we can do in gratitude" said Jaebeom rising. "Where do we must stand?"

"Please come here" the girl pointed to the wall on which the name of the restaurant was. Inviting the photographer, they took some pictures, and then showed them to guys that they could choose a photo. Choosing one, they with them deleted all the others. "Thank you so much" she once again bowed

"If you like we'll leave autographs on this photo before going out, " said Mark returning to the table.

'It would be wonderful' girl glowed with happiness

You showed up behind girl's back. "What's going on here?" you asked in a stern voice addressing the girl. And Jaebeom winced from your commanding voice. "I think I asked not to disturb my guests"

"I'm so sorry, director. We just wanted to take a picture for the 'star wall'. Sorry director it my fault."

"Why are you scolding her, she does her job. It didn't bother us, on the contrary it the least we can do in gratitude to the kindness and attentiveness of your staff," Jaebeom said.

"You can go" you said, and the girl quickly left the room again apologizing. 'God, how overbearing, it's so sexy', he thought when you turned to them.

He saw a bottle of wine in your hand. "This wine is perfect for pasta," you said opening the wine.

"Do you need help?" asked Mark, but before he finished his question, you opened the bottle and started filling the glasses.

"What a speed, " said Jinyoung smiling

"Will you join us?" asked Jaebeom hoping to hear yes.

"Yes, join to us. The company of such a beautiful girl will brighten up our evening, especially over a glass of such wonderful wine" said Mark drinking from his glass. For a second, he thought that he had come in vain with Mark and Jinyoung. How could he not have thought what they too might be interested in you.

You sat down on a vacant chair next to Mark. All evening you laughed while the guys were telling funny things. Mark and Jinyoung flirted with you all evening. It made him angry. After you've finished dinner, you're go out together. "Please call a taxi," you said to the hostess-girl.

"We promised to sign the photo," Jinyoung said, pointing to a photo that had already been hung on the wall. They signed the photo and took some shared photos with the staff.

You went outside together. "Come inside, thank you for this evening. Everything was great" Mark and Jinyoung thanked you.

"I'll see you again" Jaebeom said as you went inside.

"Yes. Good to get home" you waved after them.

"She's cool," Mark said. “We'll need to return here again”

Mark and Jinyoung got in a cab. "Guys you can go home, I'll visit a friend while I'm in the area," Jaebeom said.

"OK, we'll see you at home," Mark said closing the door.

They're gone away. He put on a mask and a cap and crossed the road. He went into a 24-hour cafe in front of your restaurant, and sat down by the window after made an order.

He waited for all the staff to leave your restaurant after it closed. Coming out of the cafe he went to the door. All windows were closed. You were sitting at the table sorting out some papers. 'She really works hard', he thought looking at the clock. You got up from the table and started to strech the body. You went to the computer and turned on the music. He almost laughed when their song started. You've exercised your body. The song ended and started again, it stood on repeat. You started dancing. Every movement of your hands or turn, showed your skin through cuts in the shirt. He froze when you started dancing their choreography on the chorus without a single mistake. What? It's incredible, he was very surprised as the song was new.

You turned off the music and came back to the table. You fell on the papers banging your fists on the table. 'Oh, my God, what a cutie', he thought. He opened the door and going inside.

"Sorry, we're already closed. Come tomorrow" said you rising and turning your head towards the door.

"Then what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Jaebeom, what are you doing here? I thought you were gone at home."

"I was visiting a friend, he lives not far away. I went out to get a taxi and saw the light in your restaurant. I didn't know our choreography could be so sexy," he said, and laughed when you fell on the table.

"Don't tell me you've seen it all?"

"I wonder how you know the choreography of a new song so well"

"Jackson taught. He let you listen to your new album, I just fell in love with this song from the first seconds. So I asked him to show him a piece."

"Jackson taught me. He let me listen to your new album, I just fell in love with this song from the first seconds. So I asked him to show a piece of choreography for me."

"I didn't know you danced so well"

“Yes, I have been practicing for a long time, but it was always just a hobby.” You got up from the table collecting papers. “Wait a second, I'll take the papers to the office,” you headed up the stairs. He went after you. On the second floor there was a rest room for staff, a dressing room and your office. You went into your office and he went behind you, closing the door. Leaving the papers on the table, you turned to him. “Do you want a drink?” you asked.

He came very close to you and you had to take a step back sitting on the edge of the table. "No, I want you" he said, and kissed you. 'Her lips are so soft', he thought. You answered his kiss. He was going crazy with excitement. He's been dreaming of you all week. He hugged you by snuggling up to himself. Your body is so soft, and your skin felt hot when he put his hand under your shirt. Stop, he was trying to stop himself. He was worried he was putting too much pressure on you. But your lips are so hot and your body so seductive. He's violently ripped himself away from you. "I'm sorry," he said. He pulled back and took two steps back. You looked so sexy.

"If I didn't want to, you wouldn't be here. You don't think so?" you said as you approached him. You ran her fingers from his neck down of body, your finger hooked his belt and pulled it on yourself. He couldn't believe that was going on. Whether it was real or it was all a figment of his imagination.' You decided to drive him crazy', he thought. He quickly took off his shirt sending it to the floor before kissing you again. This time it was just lust, without a drop of restraint. He deepened his kiss. Your fingers were driving down his back, and every move you made his dick twitch in his pants. The desire to be in you just killed him. Despite your domineering nature, you completely obeyed him, this fact excited him even more.

He quickly got rid of your clothes leaving you in your black lace string. He looked greedily at your body. He wanted to have it. He pushed you to the side of the couch and you fell on it. He put his knee between your legs spreading them wider. "So beautiful" he looked at you from top to bottom "and so wet for me" he held his finger on your crotch touching the clit. He watched you wriggle beneath him, his hands making you flow even more. Your body was burned in his brain. He abruptly ripped off your panties and put them in his pocket. He was glad that he was able to get a similar trophy. He got up and unbuttoned his pants slowly getting rid of them. He liked the way your eyes were watching his every move. He chuckled before getting rid of the boxers. You bit your lip looking at it, and he thought your mouth would look great on his dick. Before he said anything, you were already kneeling in front of him. He held his fingers down your cheek. 'Such a obedient girl', he thought. You stuck your tongue out and walked along his dick licking pre-ejaculate from his glans. The current pierced his body, and it became difficult to breathe. You took his dick in your mouth and you started sucking greedily. Your moans vibrated on his dick. His heart was pounding so furiously that he heard nothing else around him. Pleasure covered him with a new wave every time he felt his glans touch to the wall of your throat. Your mouth was a test for him. The week of waiting made him too excited, he felt an orgasm approaching. He came out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet. He pressed your body against the wall and kissed you. He could feel his taste on your lips. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifted you up. He pushed into you with force and stopped. He almost cum  how hard you squeezed his dick with your cunt, you were too tight. Your moans mixed with him while he came to his senses. After a while he began to move making slow jolts. He was losing his temper from your moans and it was so nice be inside you. He felt a tremor running through his back. He squeezed strength of your waist and began to make quick hard and deep tremors. His dick strained when you squeezed him with force when your orgasm overtook you, he stopped holding back himself, he fucked you as hard as it depended on his life. After a while, his insides tightened, it seemed his heart stopped beating when he was covered with a wave of orgasm. His cock twitched inside you while sperm filled you. He felt trembling throughout his body. He did not feel his legs.' I wonder, we fall down if I take at least one step', he thought. He laughed at the thought. He took a few steps and he laid you on the sofa, lying on top of you, he was still deep in you and did not want to lose this feeling. Your breathing was heavy, and he could not say any word.

"It was exactly the way I dreamed, " he said, raising his head to look at you.

You laughed, "Did you read my mind?"

You both started laughing. After a while when you fully recovered he took out his dick. The friction he had with this motion caused a wave of electric current to pass through his body and he hissed. Taking a few napkins from the coffee table, he completely wiped you away removing the remnants of sperm that flowed out of you. He took a couple more napkins and wiped himself. He threw napkins in the bin and helped you up. He gave you clothes lifting it off the floor.

"Where are my panties?" you asked him looking around.

"I'll bring it back next time" he said, remembered a small torn piece of cloth in his pocket. He hoped he could find it and buy online. If he goes to the store, he can just imagined what the headlines of the articles will be the next day.

"Are you so confident in yourself, think next time will be?" you looked at him with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! I'm confident!" he said, taking a step forward and leaving a light kiss on your lips. "Let's go home together in a taxi, I'll take you first. You shouldn't get behind the wheel, you've been drinking wine," he said dressed.

"Good, let's go together" you smiled at him as he hugged you after you got dressed.

"Will you give me your number?" he asked.

"I'll think about it"

"Hey... don't play with me!" he slapped your ass with force, but you only giggled back.

He hugged you and you left the office together. It was just a begin!

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