#read my bio you see that I have a delightful problem and I RECOGNIZE IT. for a small sum of a million dollars I will consider for a solid

[yellowocaballero]

HEY!! Your trigun swap au is so very good!! I've always loved roleswap aus as a concept, and yours is the perfect example of why. it's all about the balancing act of twisting the (swapped) character's background/mentalities for maximum domino effect while not actually *destroying* the character ya know? you still gotta recognize them, it's half of the fun. just some little nudges here... and there... with the delightful result of a changed plot/world that you can discover anew

Also I surprisingly vibe with Dr Knives. a lot. what can I say I guess it's the fucked up superiority-inferiority/guilt complex with a dash of imposter syndrome. also the transgenderism. he's just like me fr fr (minus the speciesism and bloodlust) 1/3

SPEAKING OF! I'm literally a week late for that but chapter 4 may be my favorite so far. it's got it all: Ww's bloodlust coming through and being given a GUN, M&M being #JustNormalGunsmokeKidsThings about it, Knives being incredibly tired and enthusiastically murderous in turns, TRANS PEOPLE!! Funky morally dubious trans men ! Intersex nonbinary Knives (in humans terms) !! small internal rants about ecosystems!

I particularly like that one bc I too found myself twitching whenever I see (in fics or fandom at large) Gunsmoke being shown as a ~hostile, barren~ planet when, like.... *waves agitedly at the Tomases* *waves frantically at the WORMS, in all their INCREDIBLY DIVERSIFIED sizes and shapes* tell me there isn't an entire ecosystem supporting and including these bad boys. And god do I wanna know about it. Terraforming this terraforming that. Enough. I want bio-worldbuilding fics that are just as weird and unhinged as the rest of trigun (2/3)

To go back to Nicholas : I loved his discussion with Knives about fate and predestination and stuff (esp since -I may be reading too much into it, but it’s interesting that Knives says he doesn’t believe in predestination anymore, and just a bit later goes about how his personality is Like That bc he’s Biologically Programmed for it), and his last words in it are especially ominous. WHAT were you gonna say about Vash. How does it concern Nicholas. This is gonna bite them in the ass later isn’t it.

Also ur last asks/answers REALLY doesn’t reassure me about woowoo’s fate. Is he gonna die. Is he gonna end up going thru the same things than his canon counterpart (concentrate of medical-and-general unethicality). Idk what those flags are for but boy They Are There.

Aallll that to say I absolutely love that fic and can't wait to see what you do next with it, thank you so much !! (3/3)

This is so nice thank you so much :D :D :D To comment in order:

Roleswaps are no fun if you can't recognize the character. You're absolutely right - the funnest part is to make the smallest changes possible, and see how they cause the biggest differences. That's true of every AU, honestly - you guys know those 600k shonen manga aus where something major is different but every story beat is identical to canon? Or they're identical to every other au? They're addictive but without substance. Also sounds boring to write.

It's so funny that you (and others) vibe with Dr. Knives! From my end, he has my own very wry deadpan and self-esteem problems. Characters who have both a ridiculously inflated ego for comedy purposes and some real self-esteem problems for drama purposes work great.

I was surprised that so many people enjoyed the trans thing so much! I didn't expect it to make people so happy. Of course it's a nice surprise. I don't remember why I made the BDN decision (funny, probably) or the 'Knives invented gender reassignment surgery' thing (funny definitely), but a very active decision and something that made Knives above every other character fun to write is that he is not a human being and does not think of himself as such. The way his body experiences emotion is different, his body itself is different in a way that probably includes genitalia, and there's no reason for him to experience gender the same way. As I'm about to talk about in the upcoming chapter, he casually refers to himself as a thing and with it/its and it doesn't affect his superiority complex whatsoever.

I...would not have said that this is trans by myself, if that makes sense, because I wouldn't have wanted to say "in order to really hammer in how this character is INHUMAN then I'm gonna make him not male or female and prefer neopronouns!". It's just the shape of the character, to me. BUT LIKE IF Y'ALL LIKE IT! NO PROBLEM! I was just worried I might be saying the wrong thing, so I didn't want to say it, if that makes sense. Y'all can say it though.

Trigun worldbuilding is nonsensical and hideously vague and as a writer if you stop and think too hard about silly questions like "where does the wood come from" or "why is Vash eating salmon sandwiches" then you go insane. But...yeah, Gunsmoke's like any other ecosystem, and its worms and thomases seem to be doing great! It's not Gunsmoke's fault it is almost completely uninhabitable to humans. It sucks for us, but...does Knives care about that??? Lmfao???

There is a shitton to say about Knives' relationship with predestination and inevitability, because it's why he made the worst decision of his life. I think of it as...reasonable, in a lot of ways. If all you knew about humanity was what you read in history textbooks, and human history ended with the destruction of Earth and themselves, how would you feel? Everything humans have done, they do again. And if they dissected your sister, in an act of cruelty that they had done to even themselves...of course you'd worry. Of course. If you're young and scared and you can hear the screams of the dead in your ears, of course you feel like it's going to be you or them. And if you're.........Millions Knives.......and reverse!Vash.....then eliminating the threat is just good business sense.

And you aren't reading too much into it - Trigun in so many ways is about choices, and the impact of your choices. Your decisions are you own, and you must take responsibility for them. Decisions have weight in Trigun. I think what ppl miss sometimes about Vash is that he also wants to fuckin' murder people sometimes. He wants to be violent, he wants to hurt. He just chooses not to. Sometimes choosing pacifism is a hard fucking choice, and I think wiping that away does a disservice to the character. So if Knives would say, "Well, it's just who I am, I had no choice, I had no control, I just go nuts and murder it's not on me..." - what does that mean, in Trigun? It's??? Like??? A pussy thing to say???

But, the way I thought about it - what Knives is fighting is his internal sense that he is predestined for cruelty. He knows "who he really is" and any attempt at goodness is futile, because he's secretly bad and will always be bad. And he fucks up sometimes and starts exploding worms. But Knives chooses goodness, and I don't think he's really cottoned on that his choice to do good is more important than his internal desires to do bad and his history of badness. Because he hates himself.

I think what Knives knows now as an adult is that our lives have paved a path for us to tread. Sometimes that path is innocent, and sometimes your life paves a very nasty path. But it's our choice if we walk it or not. Knives knows what his path is, and it gives him extreme shame - but he chose which one he walked, and that's what I judge him on. Still funny how much he loves murder though.

[pastelpaperplanes]

You mostly draw Megatron with Crusade in his Cybertronian look but in your canons it was said that while carrying the spark Megs wore his Marauder look. Did Megatron changed bodies or is the Canon changed?

yes! haha so hmm let’s see. So far up until A Little Too Familiar I have tossed Crusade into my Crackship AU—because with the Cybertron’s future AU with a whole lot of my other sparklings, ones that have considered backstories, they wouldn’t exist because of Shamus and Envoy!—and yes in the Crack AU, Megan does sport his Marauder Upgrade.

I’m still 1000% open to keeping Crusade as like,,a cameo for the Crack AU but I will say I’m getting far too attached to their character to better NOT explore them more in a more intricate backstory kind of sense! Many of the asks I’ve answered previously about Crusade’s personality and future are still canon—with the exemption that Crusade has a far more present/loving relationship with their Carrier, who as a literal helicopter parent is near suffocating in his protectiveness and efforts to keep his sparkling away from the hands and influence of the Autobots, even if that means locking them away on the Nemesis far too much to be healthy, and lying straight to their face, and others, about their origins.

Since the TFN 2021 S4 kickoff script reading I’ve been leaning towards guess what—a whole other AU that continues RIGHT after that point, much like where the CF AU would—only certain rescission within the timeline have been changed leading to, in some relationships, a vastly different setting for a next generation! (No, I don’t think I’d create a whole ton of other sparklings in place, for example a planned Strika/Lugnut kiddo wouldn’t happen for obvious reasons, nor would Shmaus or Envoy exist!! Who would remain, THAT I will figure out later down the line.) So Megatron is not in his Marauder form, Optimus is named Magnus, Jazz is with team Prime/Ninja Corps, Sentinel is still a dick figures, Prowl is still dead and so forth.

What I have planned is sort of like where the Deceptions sport a retreat after their bust on Earth when attempting to take over the central line of techno organic energon. The Cons faced losses, high command was scrambled and still very much injured from their cruel, and unusual keeping within Trypticon, heavy sacrifices turned out to NOT reap greater rewards, and the troops are still starving—and starving, scared mecha are far more dangerous than angry ones.

Optimus is still coming to terms that he is due to lead Cybertron, under the title of Optimus Magnus as soon as he’s back, whether he likes it or not as the front lines are still very much on edge with the evermore increasingly violent rouge Con raids.

I made some commentary on the reading as a whole which was PHENOMENAL and I’m still riding the high that is the fanTASTIC work that was put into is, like god. There was a brief but hilarious moment from Rattletrap where he attempted to sell off a crudely photoshopped Megop photograph as dirt—a part of me thought it would be even MORE hilarious if said photo was actually, used and Op was left sputtering after a double take going like how did they find that. HOW.

My poor, poor fanfic loving heart got going on of course the What if the Enemies Were Fraternizing Throughout the Whole of The Show, Morals be Damned in Those Stolen Moments Because I Like YOU For Some Reason trope. Wow is me, be still my beating HEART. It did not stop—so I made another AU :D yayyyyy

Basically the creation of Crusade follows along in this timeline in that sense. They were a product of one too many lonely nights in some far off abandoned cave that never could quite seem to end with a civil conversation, let alone spark apprehension from the other when it came to going toe to toe of the battlefield for the sake of their Causes. A Comfort without Strings relationship, even if they did come to grow fond of each other, not that they’d ever admit it—a confession, in a sense, would only hurt both parties knowing that the two would never give up their motivations in the ‘impossible ‘case that said feelings were mutual.

From the looks of it, the Autobots did not once tend to the Deceptions during their stay at Trypticon. Megs still sported bare struts and tattered armor up to his escape—it would be believable that medics never once ran scans, let alone were ordered to get anywhere near the high command. With already being in such poor shape, battered, humiliated, starved, violated (those minicons?? homage to Trepan??? yikessssss) and sedated—it would be believable that Megatron wouldn’t pay notice to a small flutter in his spark amongst all the pain and anxiety, at least until he finally could gather his bearings under the lockdown of his temporary fortress stuck on Earth.

Megatron, knowing he was alone, now extremely vulnerable, heavily outnumbered and out favored by his remaining struggling troops, called upon his definitely not most favorite sub team to cower behind—the DJD, to meet his blaring distress beacon.

Tarn and his crew, with the help of the rest of high command’s signal dampeners, are able to as covertly as possible—minus the world sweeper size of the Peaceful Tyranny and the paralyzing droning on of the Empyrean Suite that Tarn just loves so dearly—made it off planet save for a few bumps and bruises from the small force of Team Prime. The High & Mighty Megatron was no where to be seen in the action. Probably off in a hurry to lick his wounds in retreat after getting his ass handed to him, many assumed, but Nickel knew better. Tarn knew better. Something was terribly wrong in order to resort to a ‘cowardly’ extraction and evasion mission.

You can see where I’m going w this—so anyways YES that is the general gist of where this AU kicks off!!! Megs and Op, particularly Megs, got unlucky on their last night together—eventually all leading to the introduction of the previously secretive back up weapon that was the DJD. Coming to the rescue of their Fearless, All Powerful, and Resilient Leader?? A strange, but instantly understandable measure to resort to once Megatron reveals himself as a carrying mech, the beholder of a true heir and a testament to the resilience that is the Deceptions though the terrible reign the Autobots have held against them through the eons.

I’ll go into why he keeps Crusade on a tight leash and Op out of the loop entirely for as long as he possibly could—and how the rest of Megaton’s troops behaved around this clearly, half blooded Con sparkling their leader doted on— later!

Needless to say, Crusade’s reputation from the moment they were born was tottering on a fine line between that of pitiable condolences for their leader, and that of true Decepticon pride knowing that the one to lead them to glory some day is none other than one of the Autobots’ very own descendants.

Hope that kinda better explains things! I like Meg’s Cybertronian design, it’s sleek, it’s sexy, it’s easier to draw, and since S4 gave us a fresher design to admire of Optimus, why not have the same for his other half!

YEAHH. so new AU :D AYOOOO I’ll tag this timeline/future mentionings of Crusade and their journey as Cybertron’s Legacy AU

extremely stupid doodle under the cut! I can’t get over the duality of Old Written vs New Written Crusade ahhh 💀💀

I found a horrifically perfect tik tok audio for these two oml

Swapping Megatron stories!

[hualianff]

More Than This

Modern AU where famous actor HC and landscaper XL meet through a dating app. HC had a reputation of being a massive flirt who bedded people left and right, which wasn’t completely wrong–just blown out of proportion. His partners were usually other celebrities who mutually swore to keep their mouths shut in the preservation of their own images.

When HC received a message on the dating app asking about the brand of the wristwatch he wore in his profile pic (which only showcased his hands), the other user hoping to purchase a cheaper, similar style for his friend’s birthday, HC responded for the first time since downloading the app.

What could he say? The other man was gorgeous and if he were simply asking just to slide into HC’s DMs, the actor wasn’t opposed.

Turns out XL asked out of genuine curiosity. FX’s birthday was still a month away. Why XL thought about gifting him a watch similar to the one the stranger wore when XL should’ve been paying attention to the sheer strength those large hands seemed to possess was beyond him.

The name in the bio read: San Lang. The few pictures that were displayed on his profile were minimalistic yet downright sexy. XL blinked in wonder as he typed out another message, hoping to continue the conversation.

Two weeks after chatting back and forth through the app, XL asked if he could meet HC in person. The actor pondered this for a grand total of thirty seconds before agreeing to meet. XL seemed like a sincere character, someone who put other peoples’ comfort above any task at hand–if his emoticon overkill and frequent check-ins with HC were anything to go by.

HC figured he’d cross the bridge once XL recognized him as a well-loved actor starring in the hottest films in the media.

Except when HC arrived in his expensive jeep that screamed wealth, dressed in appropriate clothes for a hike with a baseball cap concealing his features from far away, XL did not have an aha! moment.

“Hello, San Lang! It’s me, Xie Lian,” XL waved as he bounced his way over. “I hope the ride up the mountain wasn’t too scary. You get used to it once you begin visiting more often. Thank you for meeting with me today.”

“It’s no problem at all. Nice to meet you, Xie Lian,” HC greets, guiding them away from his car as soon as he locks the doors, not wanting to draw any onlookers’ attention.

XL gives him a kind smile, adjusting the clasp of his bamboo hat. He explains that there are three main trails and he was thinking they could take the medium-level route. Judging from his white work-out T, jean shorts, and hiking boots, HC deduces that XL spends much time outside, even when he’s not gardening for his clients.

“Lead the way, Gege,” HC says, the title naturally falling from his lips. In XL’s dating profile, his age read thirty-two, just under three years older than HC. (This was followed by a dozen tree, flower, and water emoticons.)

“Okay! Onwards.”

Following their initial meeting, HC met up with XL numerous times after, attracted to XL’s mellow and eccentric personality. Whenever it was XL’s turn to plan their time together, he brought HC to different places each time. National parks, plant nurseries, museums–places that could be considered unconventional compared to the standard meetups from dating apps.

HC’s fondness for XL only grew because of this.

Their chemistry flourished in the bedroom as well, both HC and XL eager for giving and receiving pleasure. In addition to being fuckbuddies, they quickly developed a wholesome friendship that HC never saw coming.

But then again, this was XL. Once HC got a taste, his infatuation with the landscaper shouldn’t be surprising. HC stopped seeing his other speed dials after he met XL.

One of their nights ended by watching a film, XL mentioning off-handedly how he doesn't keep up with pop culture–including popular films–but his friend SQX had begged XL to watch this one. Of course, this had to be a film HC was in, one of his most recent projects. There was no avoiding the impending reveal.

They sit side-by-side on XL’s lumpy couch, watching the movie when XL gasps as the antagonist comes into view.

That is his San Lang! On the screen!

When XL pokes HC on the bicep, asking why the actor hadn’t told him, HC simply says that “My fame isn’t important to who I am.”

To HC’s surprise, XL accepts the answer without protest, nodding.

“San Lang is San Lang, who happens to be a marvelous actor,” XL solemnly says, flashing HC a delighted smile. HC hums in content, subtly repositioning his arm so it rested on the back of the couch, curling around XL’s shoulders.

Except after the movie ended and a google search later, XL finds out that San Lang isn’t San Lang after all.

“Should I call you Hua Cheng from now on? Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’ve been calling you the wrong name for three months now-” XL rushes out, guilt painted across his face.

“Gege, it’s fine. I used it as an alias for my profile to protect my identity,” HC explains. He reaches forward to tuck a long strand of XL’s hair behind his ear. “Besides, I quite like it when you call me San Lang.”

“Really?” XL sheepishly asks.

“Really.”

From that moment on, HC and XL clicked perfectly, learning more about each other when time permitted them to meet up. XL felt a little foolish for not knowing who HC was as a celebrity. But like HC said, his fame did not define him as a person, which XL clearly saw from the playful way he held himself when there were no cameras around.

HC matched XL’s enthusiasm in whatever activity they were doing, even if it was something XL’s previous partners couldn’t care less about. Eight months into their arrangement, XL finally admitted to himself that he had deep feelings for HC.

While they had great chemistry as friends, XL selfishly wanted more.

But how could XL ask for something more? They already agreed to keep things casual, to remain as friends who used each other to release their sexual urges. It didn’t matter how delicate HC cleaned XL up or always ran him a bath after their climaxes. It didn’t matter how HC always set out his clothes for XL to stay the night. And it didn’t matter how close HC held onto him as they slept.

XL was simply a landscaper with a passion for nature and helping others. He wasn’t built for the limelight. He was barely in the loop with societal trends, and only recently began watching the latest movies with HC–many of which HC himself acted in.

Frankly speaking, HC could have anyone he wanted. XL was the one who should be grateful HC even sought him out a second time.

XL is thirty-three now. He wanted to find someone to settle down with, to spend the rest of his life with, falling deeper in love with every single day. He was not sure HC, who was just entering his thirties and continuing to make a name for himself, would want something like that with someone like XL.

Even when every one of HC’s actions alluded that he truly cared for XL, XL had learned that hope was a dangerous thing to mindlessly cling to. XL has had past partners come into his life, then leave him like he was nothing, like none of him was worth staying for. XL didn’t think he could bear it if HC became just another name on that list.

Furthermore, XL didn’t want to put HC or his career on spot, nor put his heart in a position where it was bound to be broken.

As XL grappled with his perceived one-sided feelings, HC only allowed himself to yearn when laying on the bed in his penthouse. It was much larger than XL’s bed. It was also much lonelier.

HC was unable to grant XL the verbal confirmation of where they stood, held back by the weight of his status, which had always been his selling point alongside his hypersexualized image. Not only did HC not want to risk pressuring XL into pursuing a relationship with a celebrity, but somewhere deep inside, HC didn’t believe XL could want him for who he is–even after the year and a half they’ve known each other.

Much of HC’s self-worth had come from his accomplishments as an actor, untouchable yet fantasized by the public. Peeling back all the layers he hid behind, HC saw his true self as too ugly, damaged, and undesirable; phrases many people in his past have spat to his face, including his parents.

In HC’s mind, he had already tied XL down to their routine no-strings-attached meet-ups. While HC savored every moment he spent with XL, he didn’t want to further intrude on XL’s simple life and have the other man resent him in the end.

《II》

(Thanks to @no-one-says-hi for helping)

[rayo1-productions]

Cartoon Network Universe: Earth One - A Tour of California

*REPOSTED FROM FANFICTION.NET

DEVELOPER'S JOURNAL - SUPPLEMENTARY

Unfortunately, no this isn't Chapter 7. But it is something worth reading.

So if you've been following this story for a while, you've probably noticed that there are a few anachronisms in the world of the Cartoon Network Universe. I do have an explanation in mind, but for now, let's just keep it at me having to make certain calls when it comes to merging the worlds of so many Cartoon Network shows, as the majority of them were produced independently from one another.

But I also realized it wasn't entirely fair to you guys, who might not be able to keep track of worldbuilding and expository content.

So, I've come to a decision that I am probably going to regret in the future, specifically in terms of the style and genre. I am going to have, between each 6 chapters, a little cutaway bumper that informs you on the map of this world. This will give me the chance to clarify all things that you might be confused by when it comes to my writing (Honestly I don't blame you. My English isn't the best...which is ironic since it's my first language.)

The reason why I was so apprehensive of this idea at first was because of the tone it might cast over the rest of the story. Informational bumpers like this are a staple of certain anime like Attack on Titan and My Hero Academia, but with this story's subject matter leaning closer to AOT, I feared that these bumpers would create a "history-book" vibe to it. Y'know, like these alternate history stories people write where they go in-depth into the layout and politics of the war.

What's problematic about that approach for me is that it can be a very adult motif, one that can strip the story of any fantastical elements by grounding everything into hard square reality. Furthermore, most fellow FusionFall stories implement a personal touch into their work. Granted, by focusing on the entire cast of NPCs and the larger CNU, I haven't made this job easy for myself. But come future chapters and the personal touch will be essential, just as it was essential with Volume 1.

But I guess that's a bunch of superstition. Right now, enjoy reading the layout of the setting of my story. Be ready for even more creative liberties than seen in the OG Game, because the Map I created here is vastly different compared to that of the original or remakes. This map also comes with nice little exposition blurbs, all of which are set One Month before the Time Travel Experiment and thus two months before the invasion begins. I will be listing heroes that claim these areas or districts within each city. As the story moves forward from this bumper, heroes covered by a [SPOILER] tag will be revealed as they claim positions throughout the war and beyond. For future stories outside of FusionFall, it's also very possible that you'll be seeing this bumper more than once and with updates.

MAP OF TURFS

The Sister Cities - California

SIYENN: The largest of the three Sister Cities situated in the Western state of California, Siyenn City is a melting pot of countless businesses, families, and liveliness, all enhanced by the ever-growing pursuit of innovation. With a multitude of heroes, technological corporations, child geniuses, and casual life, this city is not only fortified, but ensured of a brighter tomorrow!

TECH SQUARE - Dexter McPherson, Simon Astronomonov; Once Siyenn Square, it was rechristened as Tech Square in honor of the astounding technological achievements transpiring there. Home to partnering and competing companies, Dexlabs and Mandark Industries, Tech Square has become the center of innovation and impossibility, inspiring countless geniuses by any standard to look sharp for a fine day for science!

-- Dexter McPherson, founder, CEO, and Chief Scientific Developer of Dexlabs, has announced a private time travel experiment to the public! Seeking to send volunteers or a volunteer approximately one hour into the future! The seclusive but famous scientist reportedly received supplies from various suppliers, such as Goat's Junkyard, Maxwell's Plumbing Services (oddly enough), an unnamed investor rumored to be in Quahog, Rhode Island, as well as MIT and the CERN research project! For any brave and daring volunteers, answer the call, for the time is now! And the test subject can be YOU!

GALAXY GARDENS - N/A; This emporium of greenhouse greatness was marked as a sign of good faith and will towards the ecological salvation of the planet. Galaxy Gardens is a thriving plant and animal sanctuary for all to enjoy, and though some might denote it as a simple zoo, Dexlabs has announced its intentions to study plant-based solutions to climate change and other potential problems facing the planet.

STEAM ALLEY - [SPOILER]; Though the most economically staggered of the city, this district, nicknamed "Steam Alley", held an astounding position as home to leaders of the automotive and energy industries, such as that of the Rainbow Factory and WERK Co. Though with the rise of tech giants like Dexlabs and M-Industries, it's not in that great shape anymore. But before its time, Steam Alley saw rise to oil trade tycoons such as Boss Franklin Fullbright, and even renowned bio-engineers like the late Rafael and Violeta Salazar.

-- Homeland Security agency Providence have been spotted in the area, more than likely in the hopes of opening a city-based installation. Though many people are feeling safer already, some have objected for opposite reasons, as well as the plans not offering any economic resurgence to Steam Alley.

MOREBUCKS TOWERS - [SPOILER]; As part of a housing initiative with the Morebucks Corporation, namely on the behest of Jennifer Morebucks, the city looks to open more housing options for those in the middle class or lower. Using the latest advancements in technology from Mandark Industries, the construction of these houses will be sped up to a considerable rate. The future looks bright for what used to be a normal everyday district.

-- Ms. Morebucks, a former supervillain, made a clear and distinct threat to her markets and shareholders that if they did not invest in the project, she would have them evicted from their houses and would use them for menial purposes. The shareholders were almost immediately confused by the nature of this act, wondering how a threat such as that could be fueled by a genuinely noble and thoughtful initiative. They all chalked it up to an ulterior motive on her part. Nevertheless, they all decided to fund her project.

CITY STATION - [SPOILER]; The heart of Siyenn City is also the best way to get around town; the City Station district is the public transportation staple of the entire city, and even more as its Slider Buses can carry you all the way to Townsville and Bellwood. Its transportation-focused industry has made it the centerpiece for a cultural metropolis, with bright lights lining the skyscrapers, joints and hangouts for people of all ages to enjoy. City Station's refurbished place in Siyenn City was a part of Dexlabs and Mandark Industries' massive technological initiative, building the massive Station Tower to serve not only as a hub for all passengers, but to also provide extra connection services to the entire district. City Station continues to thrive thanks to Dexlabs and Mandark's continued efforts.

-- City Station High School would like to publicly recognize one of its own students, Vana Thunderwarp, for her bravery and heroic saving of Dr. Gale Spacebyte, a government scientist who would have been killed by a malfunctioning slider. But that's not all. The young anthro-wolf student immediately contacted Dexlabs and helped identify the issue that caused the malfunction. We at City Station High School value dedicated study and civic duty within our students, and open our arms to those like Ms. Thunderwarp willing to make a difference in this vast world. (even if our moron Principal is the literal opposite - Noah V., friend of Vana)

GENIUS GROVE - [SPOILER]; The innovation does not stop at the city, as the suburbs of Genius Grove are home to some of the most impossible things the world has yet to see. The birthplace and home of both Dexter McPherson and Simon Astronomonov, they both grew up with like-minded intentions concerning technology, actively working together to see their dreams come to fruition. It is here in Genius Grove where great minds not only think alike, but aspire to be greater.

-- Shady businessman Benedict Uno and his delightful wards recently attempted to close a deal with Alderman Jeff McPherson, father of Dexlabs CEO Dexter McPherson, to open their delightful developments project. McPherson declined, much to the chagrin of Uno. There's been no official word on his next steps, though some say he may attempt to try again in Bellwood's Peach Creek Estates.

ENDSVILLE - Billy, Mandy, The Grim Reaper; Endsville may seem like the most haunted place on Earth, probably because it is. But behind a gloomy and shocking exterior is a community that thrives on liveliness and prosperity. No matter how many people try to escape our beloved town, Endsville is your last stop...to not die, but to...just come here, please. Please?

ORDINAL HEIGHTS - [N/A]; A calmer neighborhood for a calmer time, Ordinal Heights is a place to keep away from the various calamities of the universe and relax. Once you rent a house, you'll never want to leave. So come visit our little town!

-- Due to unexplained bursts of gravitational fluxes and massive surges of radiation emerging from a [REDACTED], Dexlabs and Providence have advised that this neighborhood be quarantined and cordoned off until further notice. For your own safety, DO NOT VISIT.

CRYSTAL COVE - [Formerly] Mystery Inc.; Before Endsville was dubbed the most haunted place on the West Coast, Crystal Cove held that title, famous for being the final place of activity from Mystery Incorporated, and infamous for giving the Ohio-born detective group genuine supernatural threats to investigate before they all vanished and (presumably) disbanded.

MASSACHUSETTS PARK - Mordecai & Rigby; Founded by Curtis Montgomery and his lollilander pupil Stick Maellard in the late 1800s, Massachusetts Park has stood the test of time in blazing through history and struggle. In the center of the park lies the Maellard Residence, providing the area with a feeling of home and safety. Despite reports of the zany, unpredictable, the surreal, and worst of all, various reports of employee misconduct, the Park and its staff stand ready to preserve this historic foundation.

-- Last week was the 2-year anniversary for the death of Pops Maellard, the son of Mr. Stick Maellard and the then-groundskeeper of Massachusetts Park. In what could only be described as launching an entire acre of land into space, the Park was reported to have been caught in a battle between the forces of good and evil in the cosmos, to which Pops sacrificed himself. There has been no comment from the Government-sponsored Galactic Guardian Group (G3), or the Department of Metahuman Affairs and Abnormalities, who specialize in investigation of the cosmically supernatural. All the latter group had to say was that classified intergalactic contacts were looking into the aftermath. The Special Extraterrestrial Containment Team arrived shortly after to debrief all members trapped aboard the Park in launch. In this anniversary, many of the Park's staff were there to pay respects to their dear friend.

- Goat's Junkyard, West Coast Division - Megas (Coop); Originally founded in New Jersey, proprietor and former tattoo artist Scot 'Goat' Rienecker expanded his junkyard operations to the other side of the United States. In Jersey, his junkyard gained a notable reputation for housing a vast array of salvaged technology, with many complaining simply because the city would be destroyed by robots and aliens before they could visit. Goat's Junkyard is the place to go if you're looking for off-hand items and re-engineered technology, no matter how illegal it might be!

TOWNSVILLE: - Powerpuff Girls; The City of Townsville! A safe haven for all, a flourishing and lively populace, a loyal and brave community, and home to the world's youngest and greatest trio of superheroines! This fine city has been under their protection for 10 prosperous years, and the skies have never been brighter since. This fine city is a place to go to see hope before your very eyes. Ignore the high insurance rates and outrageous crime waves, because the Powerpuff Girls will always be there to save you in the City of Townsville!

-- People are still worried for the middle Powerpuff, Buttercup Utonium, who suffered a major blow during a battle with the evil Mojo Jojo. The Powerpuff was smacked far off into the Pacific Ocean and disappeared into the waters. The green Powerpuff returned to her family a week after her disappearance, but has refused to offer any knowledge or word on what happened to her during her absence. We wish our toughest fighter the best in health and spirit as she continues to keep the city safe!

- Townsville Square - Jenny Morebucks; A bustling shopping industry incarnate, this plaza is at the heart of the city and maintains its great variety of malls, studios, and more, with the trademark location of the Sunken Super-Mall, this is a center for consumerism, and we invite YOU to find everything you'll need and want.

-- With the retirement of her father, Oliver Morebucks, young heiress Jennifer Grace Morebucks has since taken over his place as head chairwoman and CFO. Having been in this position for about 4 years now, Morebucks has brought the company into several disputes over acts of corporate greed, villainy, and subversion of ethical...anything, things that were mostly avoided by her lack of ownership in the company when she started her career in villainy. Morebucks has yet to recuperate from the low financial position and brand image the "Princess" has put them in, though Jennifer herself has ceased most villainous activity in recent times.

- Townsville City Hall - The Mayor of Townsville; The headquarters of Townsville's government is a dedication to triumph and might in the face of hardship. Here lies the Mayor's office, and the Mayor himself as he guides Townsville through times of despair, thanks in part to our terrific triplets that the Mayor dispatches to handle situations. It's because of this landmark that this fine city has stood tall and never backed down, even when a giant monster knocks it down.

-- Just today, the Mayor announced the undoing of his latest decree: that all pickle jars be made with paper lids. Buyers of pickles found their food to have been spoilt due to the poor standards of containment imposed by the Mayor.

TOWNSVILLE PARK; This local and public park is the perfect spot for peace and quiet, especially when the city life can be so overwhelming. Townsville hosts many of its local events and celebrations here, as even this peace would not dare be disturbed by villainy.

- Mojo's Volcano - Mojo Jojo; Before even the crime wave, Townsville has always seemed in danger, thanks to the massively slim volcano located near the Park. Nowadays the inactive volcano is under new management: The primate supervillain Mojo Jojo, who lives in his Observatory Lair planning and scheming his maniacal and destructive ideas for destroying the Powerpuff Girls and other villainous acts. However, the city of Townsville is lucky to see Mojo exercise an honor code when it comes to engaging our beloved metropolis, and how fortunate we are that it not occur to him.

-- Following an incident that occurred in 2009, many citizens of Townsville have speculated Mojo's connection to the sudden appearance of green gooey aliens that manifested from glowing plant-like eggs. Speculation also arose from the East Coast, with many citizens of New Jersey identifying the spores to be Gynok, a plant-based lifeform from Saturn that once invaded on a Thanksgiving Parade. However, multiple reports indicated that Gynok was capable of speech, and could mimic objects living and non-living, abilities that were not displayed by these spores, which instead spawned blobby creatures that terrorized various cities instead. Many are wondering what this has to do with Mojo, but have not been able to get a word in due to the primate's limited parole.

MARQUEE ROW - Gangreen Gang; This small but vibrant district holds a special place in the hearts of Townsville's greatest musicians. Currently the focus of the Gangreen Gang's album tour, Marquee Row's impressive auditorium famously held the debut performance of Sunny Bridges, the Atlanta-born jazz-rap musician that currently teaches at Atlanta's Westley School for the Arts; he has since gone down as a legend in contemporary music. It also was notable for holding one of the highest ticket-sales rates for concerts of the West Coast in 2005, thanks to a spectacular performance from J-Pop/Rock duo Puffy AmiYumi. Marquee Row is full of legacy and variety as it has quickly become the hot-spot for Townsville's musicians and many more.

-- The Gangreen Gang are set to perform in the Sunny Bridges Auditorium this July, where they are also set to reveal a new member of their band. Speculation has arisen as to who this member might be, and some rumors report that it's a female backup player. Some have denounced this as pandering, while others have embraced the band's sense of diversity. Others less trusting of the band wonder if this is a ploy to pull off a heist, given their criminal record.

- Harada-Bridges Records; The Harada-Bridges Record Company is a Townsville-based label founded through a joint partnership between former musician/performer Sunny Bridges and Kazuo Harada, former band manager and possible kleptomaniac. Harada-Bridges Records distributes music from many such talents as the TrendBenders, Pizza Party, the Gangreen Gang, Hair to the Throne, Scream-O, and Puffy AmiYumi among others; it even allows for one-time titles, such as "Love makes the World Go Round", or a rather catchy cover of "Surfin' Bird". It also sells redistributions and collections of older albums, including the famous 70s group Shag Carpeting, Fist Pump from the 80s, and smaller names like Mr. Universe.  Their building is furnished with a high-end recording studio, in which much of the music they distribute is recorded. Due to Bridges' teaching obligations, the company is partly run by JoJo Melodytour, former manager for the TrendBenders.

-- Famous rappers 'the CrewCrew' were recently excommunicated by the record company for their foul attitude and slanderous speech, and their apparent disrespect towards the memoriam services for Pops Maellard. They have since gone to social media to voice their frustration, only to lose several followers on all relative channels, Instagram in particular.

WILSON WAY;

- Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends; Venture into our quiet and socially vibrant suburban areas to get away from the action, and find a place where the community is tight, trustworthy, and lasts forever. For example? This grand estate that has been a staple of the community since the 1930s. Originally the grand mansion of eccentric heiress Martha Foster, her home has seen a repurposing like no other over the last 60 years. Founded in 1954, the mansion was reimagined as Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, a place for runaway or outgrown imaginary friends to spend their time and look for new human friends. We in the Wilson Suburbs are proud to see such progressive community work continue for so long, and to maintain a lasting legacy across the country. Regardless of the nanite-related problems that have plagued the imaginary community, Foster's Home keeps its doors open to all real and unreal for refuge and safety.

POKEY OAKS SUBURBS (North & South) - Powerpuff Girls, Professor Utonium; Named after the county Townsville is located in, the Pokey Oaks suburbs are home to many of the denizens of the larger metropolis, appreciating the quieter life contrasting the busy city ahead. In the Northern suburbs, you will find Poakey Oaks' High School, the Morebucks Mansion, the precinct for Townsville PD, and the abandoned home of former supervillain Fuzzy Lumpkins. In the Southern suburbs, you will find the Utonium residence, home to the Powerpuff Girls, Poakey Oaks Kindergarten and Lower School, and the Pokey Oaks highway leading into the larger Townsville city.

-- Not to be confused with the Pokey Oaks county in Los Angeles, California.

HABITAT HOMES - N/A; A thriving suburban community defined for its rising anthro population, Habitat Homes is recognized as a place for...well, whatever it is normal districts do, because this area seems to be set on selling "we have anthropomorphic animals" as their only highlight, which is pretty exploitative. This suburb is home to the Charles Darwin Middle School, notable for having an overwhelmingly anthro-based student body.

BELLWOOD: - Ben 10; This is no ordinary city. Enter a world beaming with possibilities, wrapped up in one of the most popular cities on Earth. Located within Delmarva County and founded in 1638, the city of Bellwood started out as a small town notable as "the most ordinary town on Earth". That has been proven wrong many times over. Since Ben 10 started his super-heroic career at the ripe age of 10, Bellwood has seen a massive amount of attention for sightings of alien life and activity on Earth, and allowed this small town to grow and expand into a bustling city in the same leagues as sister cities Townsville and Siyenn.

- Bellwood Square; The heart of the city and the home to many of Bellwood's landmarks, such as Bellwood Zoo, City Park, a museum, a mall, Madison Elementary, even a Brain Bank!

- City Point; Whoever could forget this small district, host of the annual Summer fair for 20 years in a row, several of which have showcased the Dizzy World Circus hailing from Townsville. City Point also houses the largest amount of alien activity in the entire city, with many wondering how so many aliens appear in and out. But no matter that, City Point is hailed as a place for diversity and acceptance of all lifeforms, no matter how secret.

-- The Dizzy World Circus is set to open business in City Point this summer after a performance in Gateway City, Virginia; this will be the first time they have returned to Bellwood in ten years. However, brand image is being considered as a risk, due to the supervillain Zombozo welding his Ferris Wheel to the ground five years ago and making it near impossible to remove. Architects and engineers are still trying to determine how to bring the Wheel down, as the structure itself appears to be made of Promethium, one of the strongest and most durable metals on Earth.

OFFWORLD PLAZA - Grandpa Max; Seeing humanity's future in the stars, Offworld Plaza was setup in a partnership between Dexlabs, NASA, and Providence whilst being overseen by the Department of Metahuman Affairs and Abnormalities. Offworld Plaza is meant to be the world's first spaceport, with a Dexlabs-modified STS shuttle meant to be the world's first form of public space travel. The project has seen backing from several Bellwood residents, including Ben 10 himself and partners included, and several alien citizens amongst the population. This is being seen as the foremost attempt to fully engage Earth with the larger galactic community.

BELLWOOD SUBURBS/URBAN NEIGHBORHOODS;

- Madison Valley - Ben 10; This mostly quiet neighborhood is close to the Peach Creek community, and is notable for being the birthplace of Ben 10 himself. The neighborhood has received a lot of attention since his public debut last year.

-- Residents of this neighborhood continue to search for Gwen Tennyson, cousin of Ben 10 and former partner in crimefighting. Gwen had reportedly manifested something akin to alien powers, due to alien heritage in the family, and disappeared soon after a conflict involving the Ship-It Corporation and an invasive race of microchips. The search has been continuing for 4 months, and we send the Tennyson family our best wishes.

- Gallagher Commons/Sector V - KND; Home to Benedict Uno, this proud neighborhood prides itself of the progress brought about by its educational system, confident in the molding and shaping of young minds for the larger world. To that, Gallagher Commons also takes pride in its large park statue dedicated to the various superheroes of the world (though due to the lack of heroes in these suburbs, it has yet to be adorned with any holograms or statues). This monument, christened as "Hero's Square", has been the sight of attraction to many, though children seem displeased with the amount of attention it receives, but who cares about them, right?

- Bellwood Sheriff's Department received more reports of angry parents complaining about their kids' whereabouts after school; reports include children whispering secret codes and messages, sneaking out at night, raiding closets of random neighbors of varying ages, and mention of weapons storage in a treehouse. These reports have been dismissed as a case of kids being kids, and parents being parents. Though the mention of a treehouse caught their eye, as there are no reported treehouses in the entire Gallagher neighborhood.

- Peach Creek Estates - The Eds, Rolf, the Urban Rangers; Peach Creek Estates has been a foundation of the Bellwood suburbs for as long as it could remember, founded shortly after the city was built, Peach Creek retains its reputation as the most normal suburb in the entire country, even as the larger city stepped into the larger and more unexpected world. The center of our neighborhood lies in the Peach Creek Commons, a Cul-De-Sac with a loving community that never expect anything out of the ordinary.

-- The Bellwood educational board was happy and elated to give a $100,000 research grant to 16-year old Eddward Zimintator, affectionately known as "Double-D" by his neighbors and friends, for outstanding scientific papers on the applications of nanites towards the reduction of cancer cells, and the correlation between nuclear energy and dark matter. Dexlabs and Mandark Industries, tech companies from Siyenn City, helped pay for the grant, and Mr. Zimintator was excited to have received the honor as opposed to the money. Double-D expressed worry that the large sum of money would be taken advantage of by his friends.

- Bravo Beach City - (formerly) Steven Universe, the Crystal Gems; Bravo Beach City, rechristened after philanthropist and entrepreneur Bunny Bravo, has a history spanning 2 whole centuries, beginning in 1814 with Captain William Dewey founding the city. The city has been under the protection of an alien team dubbed the Crystal Gems, who protected this sub-city of Bellwood for over 200 years since they arrived on Earth. This town has seen alien invasions of lovecraftian/angelic varieties and universe-ending catastrophes unlike any other, and yet it pulled through without the presence of Ben 10. That's worth a look-(#KeepBeachCityWeird - Ronaldo F.)

- Grover Mill - The Amalgam Kids; [REDACTED]

ASTORIA GROUNDS - The Saturdays; Located on the edge of the Pacific Coast, Astoria Grounds was once home to reputable cryptozoologist Doctor Solomon Saturday and his family. After their mansion here was destroyed, the Saturdays maintained operations here by means of their blimp. Astoria has since seen a level of peace unheard of. We have great TV too, renowned for various movie production studios located right here, such as Sumo Slammers: Legends, Weird World (formerly), Tiny'Mon: The Live Adventure, and other great content!

BELLWOOD MOUNTAINS - Camp Kidney, Acorn Flats; Bordering the state of Oregon, the Bellwood Mountains offer citizens a fantastic night-sky view, and a lovely day for campers. The site was recently chosen as the new location for several Midwest-based Summer Camps, such as Camp Kidney and the Acorn Flats Scouts. Originally located in Northern Wisconsin, the Camps were relocated to the West after dangerous reports of robots and monsters were coming in from the nearby state of Illinois, as well as various surreal reports from the nearby city of Elmore. Amongst the Bellwood mountains are the Pimpleback Mountains, Mount Blackhead, and a forest noted for various amounts of exposure to unstable nanites; said site is also reported to be a major hotspot for cryptid activity. Be wary of entering this Twisted Forest.

SHARED LOCATIONS:

- CITY SQUARE (Currently under construction); As part of the Movement Ink Initiative, the Three Sister Cities of California are coming together under a united cause: to open new avenues of business and provide a safe and healthy environment for all. Meant to be the most technologically advanced area between all three cities. The Movement Ink Initiative will also see construction of a center studio to foster all creative and health-related activities.

OTHER LOCATIONS OF INTEREST: (INFORMATION TO BE UPDATED BY DHAWAR AIRLINES)

NOWHERE, LAS VEGAS - Agents Black and White; [REDACTED]

- Area [REDACTED]

PORKBELLY CITY, ALBERTA - Johnny Test; Alberta's least notable city, built upon the morally dubious legs of the meat-grinding industry, has seen a surprising rise in the extraordinary over the last five years, with various mutations and technologically influenced threats appearing over time. More often than not, a kid from our suburbs has to save the day, but it also happens to be his fault. For Porkbelly, things just seem to balance out.

-- Congratulations to local scientists Susan and Mary Test for getting jobs in the states with Dexlabs! We'll miss you while you're away very much! Just don't blow anyone up and don't cause a massive chemical accident!

SOUTHEAST UTAH - Rex, Providence; [REDACTED]

ORCHID BAY, SAN FRANCISCO - [SPOILER]; Arguably the second largest district of the city, this beach-side town is big enough to call itself a city on its own. Renowned for its beach city theme and harbor history, Orchid Bay has been a cultural diaspora, giving children a welcome touch of life from all areas and ethnicities. Admittedly, there have been supernatural occurrences here and there, but it's not like an ice castle is going to rise out of the water.

MARZIPAN CITY, VLATAVA- N/A; This small European city in the Romanian Province of Vlatava is well-known for being home to Mung Daal's Catering Company, one of the world's tastiest European cuisine menus. With their food and this city, you can never go wrong with your vacation.

-- Mung Daal has reportedly taken up a search for a potential apprentice. More details are to follow.

LANGLEY FALLS - CIA, Department of Metahuman Affairs and Abnormalities; [REDACTED]

If you've noticed any inaccuracies or liberties taken with these settings, then I apologize for the liberties taken to make all of this work. When I started my story, my aim was to tell the most grounded FusionFall story I possibly could, which meant that to realistically illustrate the various shows of CN in the same setting and together, I had to change various tiny details (such as the location of Camp Kidney) or massive details (such as moving Steven Universe from the East Coast to the West Coast). Really sorry about that. I wasn't intent on simply transposing the map from FusionFall, which would have simply been mashing all the locations together. Each show has its own unique setting, some of which are integral to the shows' aesthetic. I wanted to honor that as much as possible, and every major change made hurt to make, especially since it fits into the grander plan.

Now obviously, scenic descriptions aren't going to be much help, but since I can't really draw out a map of the CNU’s California here, I'd like to direct you to my associated Deviantart page: https://www.deviantart.com/noahvilgaxsane. I might be able to draw out the map and post it there.

If you've already clicked, you might notice that I've created a non-spoiler wallpaper for this wonderful project! Not just for FusionFall, but for the series I have planned as a whole.

Thank you all for letting me give you the layout of the Cartoon Network World so far, and I'll see you guys in Chapter 7, written on Fanfiction.net. Make sure to leave a review and follow the story if you’re interested!

[pentanguine]

1. Do you use any other terms to define or explain your gender?

So…I got a little carried away. Most of these posts will not be this long, but I had a lot I wanted to say, and a long drizzly afternoon to work on saying it, so.

Aside from genderqueer, trans, and nonbinary…

I’ve started feeling more at home with the word transmasculine this year, after several years of circling it warily and ultimately running away because it would just be ALL TOO SHOCKING. Other people interpret transmasculine in a wide variety of ways, many of which make me deeply uncomfortable (eg “Transmasc = physically transitioning in all the same ways trans men usually do;” “Transmasc = trans man but woke about it;” “Transmasc = I have aligned myself against women and forsaken feminism and I love asserting my dominant gender role”), and voluntarily using a word that’s ripe for misinterpretation made my control-obsessed brain fuck right off.

But ultimately it’s not really about using words (what does that even mean? putting them in your tumblr bio? buying the pride flag?) so much as knowing, however privately, that you are a thing. And I’m transmasculine! It’s a word that feels comfortable, and homey, and exciting. Other people who use that word sound like me! They look like me, and they look how I want to look! I get such a blooming, leaping, light-filled feeling in my chest when I see these people, because I instinctively feel that these are People Like Me. I recognize myself in their experiences of gender, and sometimes I feel like my whole body’s going to shake apart with a euphoria that’s like being on fire. Every time I read something by Daniel M. Lavery I end up rolling around on the floor in paroxysms of delight and Feeling Seen, and my brain lights up like a fireworks display when I see awkward bi men with curly brown hair and glasses. There is still a little part of my brain that’s convinced referring to myself as transmasc will make everyone deeply disappointed in me, and obligate me to go out and befriend a footballer named Chad, but I’ve been casually referring to myself that way since May in semi-public venues and the sky hasn’t fallen in yet.

Transmasc feels like a useful word for me because it makes me feel more settled. I think a lot of times nonbinary gender is simplified to gender neutrality (which it is for some people!), while for me it’s more like a stewing mess full of things that don’t make coherent sense in anyone’s mind but my own. So I can like masculine words and gender presentations, and that doesn’t mean I’m equating neutrality with masculinity, and I can also express my gender in the numerous non-masc ways that feel natural to me while still having that anchor to come back to. Ultimately, I think it just means that I have a more meaningful relationship with masculinity than I have with femininity, neutrality, or androgyny, and that I’m deliberately moving in a more masc-coded direction that the one I started out. And that’s it!

--

The other big gender-conceptualization-thing that I’ve been thinking a lot about is the complicated muddle of doubleness and inversion that I feel between gender identity, gender presentation, sexuality, and gender expression. I don’t feel bigender, because that sounds like I have two discrete gender experiences sitting side by side, and I’m not genderfluid, because it’s not like my gender actually changes, but I do feel like I’m part woman-affiliated agender person, and part genderqueer guy with the genderqueer dialed up to eleven and the guy dialed down to two. Part of me feels apart from gender, but nebulously attached to queer ideas of womanhood (lesbian! spinster! middle school girl at a sleepover who promises to love her friends more than any passing crush!), and then part of me feels apart from gender, but like I picked Guy Gender to steal for myself and imitate and relentlessly queer by virtue of not taking it seriously enough. But it’s all mixed together, you know? Like paint swirling on a palette, or light bringing out iridescence on fish scales. Sometimes it will be more like one thing, sometimes more like another, but it’s always whole and completely intertwined.

Earlier this year a Miriam Zoila Perez quote about being a faggy butch was going around, and man, that gave me a lot of gender feelings. I first encountered the term fairy butch on this old blog called The Butchelor, and while I loved it then, I didn’t use it because of a radfem-induced trepidation that it was all an elaborate joke everyone understood but me. I also have an extremely annoyed relationship to the word butch, because I’m not butch at all, and I doubt anyone else would think I am, but this seems to be the only word anyone is capable of using to describe queer masculinity. It’s like other people are determined to smash you into yet another binary (ironically, a binary that’s jealously guarded by the same people who keep enfolding you in it) because you’re afab and like wearing ties. It’s annoying!

But the phrase fairy butch just seems so delightful to me, because it’s whimsical and complex, and also so genderfucky. I’m not masculine in any of the ways that usually cohere to the word butch—I don’t have the interests, or the mannerisms, or the sexual propensities or the haircut or the total dislike for anything feminine-coded (why is masculinity always all or nothing, and all about absence?). I love my socks with the sparkly pink foxgloves, I love smiling (why must men never smile?), I like sitting with my legs crossed and talking with my hands. I’m not feminine, I’m effeminate. I’m a double invert, gay for women and gay for men, a too-boyish-“woman” who doubles right back around as a too-feminine-“man.” Maybe I’m not a butch, or even a (faggy) butch, but dammit I’m a fairy/butch. Two queers in one, two inextricable, contradicting queernesses that complicate and complement and mitigate and enhance each other.

--

The idea that I’ve been slowly winding towards is that contradiction is part of my gender. It’s not something that’s going to get smoothed out one day when I find The Perfect Word, and the questioning and revisiting isn’t going to end when I reach The Final Stage of Transition or whatever. I read an article a few weeks ago that nebulously cited Jack Halberstam as saying “refusal to resolve my gender ambiguity has become a kind of identity for me,” and that’s something that resonates with me so, so much. I don’t have to make myself neat and appropriate for consumption, because my gender doesn’t exist at the mercy of other people’s understanding. I’m not a problem that has yet to be shoved into a “woman-aligned” or “nonvir” box, I just am. Sitting amidst the dissonance of things that other people tell me are impossible to feel at the same time is my identity. I never want to cohere.

It reminds me of the way I feel about historical figures like Katharine Hepburn and Daphne DuMaurier, who were definitely genderqueer as fuck, but also closeted to the outside world for their entire lives, and unclassifiable in modern terminology. They were real, complex people who existed, and are now gone! It would be really weird to assign them a coherent identity, like “Hepburn was a nonbinary trans man” or “DuMaurier was genderfluid” or what-have-you, when all you have are decontextualized fragments of their gender feelings. (I feel comfortable calling them genderqueer because that can be used as an adjective to describe cis people who queer gender, which they definitely did)

Anyway: I feel very deeply connected to these people, and the way they saw themselves as being boys, or like-men, or men-in-certain-contexts, or men-and-women, or women-who-wanted-to-be-men. But the thing is, wherever they may have wanted to go, they never arrived. Would Hepburn have preferred to be known professionally as Jimmy, gone by he/him pronouns in all areas of life, and identified as a proud trans man? Barring some spectacular archival discovery, we’ll never know, because that was never a viable option in Hepburn’s lifetime. And that space of possibly-wanting, but not-arriving, feels like a destination to me. That gap, between wanting and actualization, or fantasizing and pursuing, or playing around and Identifying As, feels like it is part of my experience of gender. I’m not a man, I’m a woman-who-wants-to-be-a-man. There has to be that distance, and that wanting.

I’ve gone on for an absurd amount of time here, but ultimately: I’m queer! My gender is queer! Some people are men, some people are women, and I’m a queer.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 65

Title & Song: Stuck In The Middle With You

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 4800+

Summary:  Gen's father reaches out to her in a new way. A slice of domesticity with Alfie and Gen having tea in the bakery.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Vague threats. Possessive Alfie. FLUFF. Domestic feelings. Alfie being cheeky and flirty. Boss Alfie vibes.

**Chapter song is Stuck In The Middle With You by Stealers Wheel.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You decide to spend a rather lovely spring day out with Claire and Aggie. You walk about the market, casual with your purchases, each of you with a wicker basket in hand, happy to be out of your winter dresses. You wore a sweater around you to shield from the still brisk breeze that passes through the late morning air. You stop in for early tea in a quaint little shop before bobbing in and out of stores and boutiques. By almost one, you're hungry again and wandering around Fortnum and Mason wasn't helping.

You see a charming Victoria sponge sitting in a glass case, raspberries and whipped cream both decorated on top, within it that catches your eye. You see the price is far more than the usual price of a Victoria sponge, raspberries aren't in season. You sit and stare at the cake, and wonder how they were getting raspberries this time of year, and if not from you, who? You ask a young man covered in flour and a worker's apron as he passes. He lights up, cheerily telling you they come from a small greenhouse that sells to them in the offseason. Thus the high price for it. You nod and thank him and bite your lip as you look over the various fruits in the case. It is then you decide to become preoccupied with the thought of building a greenhouse, bringing in more money in the off season.  That would be your new project for the year and you could reap the benefits the coming season.

"Genevieve?" Aggie startles you out of the thoughts of where to put the greenhouse and how much it might cost to build and run.

"Oh yeah, sorry Ags." you shake your head. "Distracted by this cake." you smile apologetically.

"I'm beginning to tire, love could we possibly return home soon?"

"Don't be silly! Go on home, you don't even have to ask. I'm just dilly-dallying at this point anyway. Go on and call yourselves a car and have a bite if you'd like. I believe I'm going to take this cake to Alfie and see if he's available for tea. If not I'll head on home."

"Delightful plan. I'm sure he'd love to see you." she smiles big, always happy to hear about Alfie and anything to do with the two of you.  She'd been so content the past months, knowing you were finally happy and on the road to what she saw as a proper life.

You purchase the cake and have it wrapped in a box and set it in your basket. You depart from Claire and Aggie to walk the few blocks to the car that is still sat in the starting position of where you'd began shopping that morning. You're back to being deep in thought about a greenhouse. How much yield of berries could you have, what other plants that required more delicate care could you grow and sell now? And this was probably why you hadn't noticed the gentleman that was following you. It was your fault really.

"Miss Greene." you hear a man's voice say. And you pay no mind as here, you were not Miss Greene. "Miss Greene!" you hear more intensely called, and again you ignore it. No one here should be calling you by that name. "Miss Greene!" you hear as you feel a hand wrap around your shoulder. Instinctually you turn fast and grab his wrist and begin twisting it before you even see who it is and as you face the man you don't recognize you continue to do so as he tries to conceal his noises of pain. "I'm not here to hurt you, only speak to you." he grits out. You read him quickly, the glasses, the well pressed and clean clothes. With a weak chin and slim shoulders you read him as only a minor threat physically, so you let him go.

You then proceed to grab him by the shoulder and yank him to the corner of a building, pushing him hard against the wall. "Who are you and what do want? What business do you have calling me Greene? It's not my name." you say with a dark tone, showing your seriousness.

"You are Genevieve Greene, yes?" he asks with a confused look on his face.

"I am Genevieve Durand. Not Greene. I no longer associate with that name." you answer coldly.

"Your father sent me." he says, wincing.

"What do you want?" you hiss.

"He wanted me to make contact with you, speak to you myself, as I'm a representative of him."

"Again... what the fuck do you want?" you state harshly, your language catching him off guard.

"I uh... he wanted to make contact to know that you had indeed gotten his letters."

"Yes, I gave him my responses."

"I'm afraid he isn't pleased with them."

"Well that's his fucking problem isn't it?"

"I'm an indifferent party, I've only been sent by someone who works for him to reach out. I don't know the business specifically, just that he is asking you to stop."

You roll your eyes. "Stop?" you huff out a laugh and cross your arms.

"Yes. Something about who you're seeing. Apparently, he's a known criminal? Did you know this Miss?"

"I did yes." you nod with pursed lips.

"And will you stop seeing him?"

"No. My business is exactly that... MINE. I have nothing to do with my father and he should have nothing to do with me. I haven't received money from him in ages, I haven't reached out to him or my mother, or my siblings and that's what he asked of me. I'm no longer a Greene and what I do is no longer his business."

"I believe what he wants is for you to stop seeing this gangster, Miss. Is that so much to ask?"

"For a man that exiled me from my own family? For associating with someone of a certain religion? A religion that I also am? You're fucking right it's too much to ask."

The man was clearly not aware of this part of the dealings with your father. He blinks slowly and looks around, seeming to be unsure of how to continue. "I just know I was sent to have you agree to stop seeing this man. I was told he was a criminal. A gangster, which entails all sorts of things, murder and lying, and thieving. You seem like a hardened but reasonable woman. Surely you wouldn't want to associate with such a person?"

"You don't know me. Let's get that straight right now. Neither does my father. And as far as I see it, the both of you have zero reasons to ask anything of me or tell me what to do. You tell him that I've made my decision. That I'm staying with Alfie and I'll be busy being a dirty fucking Jew as my father loves to call me and my people. I'm minding my own business and if he continues to not mind his, I will not be as gentle in my refusal to his input next time. And if he thinks he can tell Alfie what to do?" you openly laugh and shake your head. "Then he is in for a very rude awakening." you lean into the man's face with a low brow. "Tell him if he leaves me alone. I'll leave him alone. That's all there is to it. Simple."

"So you are refusing?"

"Yes! Were you not bloody listening?" your voice raises in pitch as you tilt your head at the man.

"Then I've been informed to tell you that the next time he reaches out his methods won't be so gentle." he winces, worried you might strike him. And rightfully so.

"Threatening his own daughter?" you suck your teeth and nod. "Sounds like the old bastard." you sigh. "Look. For what hell he has put me through, I am being more than reasonable. I've done unspeakable things to men who have done far less." you give the man a firm nod to show you mean it. You see in his eyes that he does. "I am giving him the chance to live out the rest of his life as he wants. And have me never cross his mind again." you reach up to point your finger into the man's face. "But be certain, if he threatens me again. I will not be so generous. Remind him he has not known suffering. He has not had to overcome anything in his life and that is all mine has consisted of. So believe me when I say that if he comes for me, or Alfie, he will be met with something that will knock him flat on his arse and he will not be able to recover as he lacks the skills to do so. Coincidentally his own devilish behavior has instilled within me the ability to recover and thrive. If he tries to interfere with my life, I will move past it. So he can thank himself for that."

"I will..." he sighs. "I will tell my employer, Miss." he nods.

"Hmmph." you say with an attitude-filled nod as you purse your lips at him and watch him slink away. You cross your arms, your face tight and brow heavy as you walk to your car, you stay that way until the bakery. You decide not to bother Alfie with this nonsense. You could handle whatever came your way yourself. -------- You strut through the warehouse, heels clacking across dirt and brick. Your blue floral dress with its hem swinging about your calves was a bright juxtaposition to the warm orange hues of the steaming, so-called, bakery. Ollie is perched outside Alfie's office, as usual, arms crossed with eyes and ears on alert to the bakery as Alfie conducted business.

"Hello Gen-Miss Durand." he corrects himself. You didn't know exactly what Alfie had said to them, but the men addressed you with lowered gazes and polite nods, the only time they didn't call you Miss Durand was when the newcomers would accidentally call you Mrs. Solomons. Which you didn't mind.

"Hello Ollie." you say cheerfully. "Will he be long?" you ask quietly as the man meets you at the desk set up by a stack of barrels outside Alfie's office.

"Not sure. From the look on his face, he's ready to be done but the man seems a bit difficult." he says with a nod, following you to the desk.

"Will he have a free moment for me afterward? Maybe time for tea?" you ask sweetly, hoping it might give you a more favorable answer.

"He will. He's worked through all morning. He'll be glad to see you." he says with raised brows and a nod.

"Lovely. I've brought a nice Victoria sponge. " You say patting the box that contained it. "And these are for you." you grin and hand him a tin of biscuits.

"You dinnit have to go and do that." he says sheepishly. "Oh hell, these are the good kind." he murmurs as he inspects the round canister.

"I know Alfie is hard on you boys, I can come in with a bit of soft to ease the violence when warranted. And from what I hear business is doing just fine on the bread front so you can all enjoy a biscuit on your break. Isn't going to hurt anyone." you say affectionately.

"You just stay with him and that's more help than anything. Honestly." he chuckles.

"I have good news. I intend to." you say sweetly. "Are the boys on lunch? I don't hear the usual racket?"

"They are Miss." he nods, sitting on the desk.

"I'm going to go give them this tin. Don't let them see those." you point to more expensive tin in his hands. "Can't let my favoritism me known, can I?" you grin.

"Thanks again, Miss. They're on the loadin' dock, as always." he nods in their direction.

"I'll go run these over, send Alfie after me when he's out, would you?" you call out, leaving the basket with the cake on the desk and taking the other biscuits to the workers.

"Hello boys!" you chirp and they drop their sandwiches and stand, lowering their heads.

A unison response of "Hello Miss Durand." from them all like well-trained dogs.

"Calm down, just me." you smile and set the tin on the middle of the round table they sat at. "Brought you all a treat." you announce and clasp your hands together happily.

"Oh my missus' mum buys these on her birthday." one says excitedly. "Thank you Miss Durand." he says, reaching for the tin and popping it open.

"Not a problem at all. You playing cards?" you ask, putting a hand on your hip.

"Yes Miss." one nods.

"Got a spot for one more?" you ask walking over to an empty crate that sat around the table, just like theirs.

They all look at each other confused. "You... uhh... yes?" they all eventually agree with their varying looks of hesitancy and surprise.

"What we playin' boys?" you ask, beginning to shuffle the cards. -------------- "Fuckin' 'ell she's burnt me out!" one man exclaims, throwing his cards onto the table. You giggle to yourself as you pull his money towards you. "Sorry Miss Durand. Didn't mean to speak like 'at in front of ya." he bows his head apologetically.

"No harm. Best language is language said with passion." you lilt and push all your winnings into a pile.

"OI!" you hear from behind you, you turn over your shoulder to see Alfie, vest over his usual white billowy shirt, stomping towards you.

All the men around you stand and you look at them before batting your lashes up at Alfie who's eyeballing all of them.

"Should I stand too?" you chuckle, dusting off your dress.

"What the fuck is 'is?" he says, motioning with his hand to the blokes sitting at the table.

"On lunch, sir. The missus came and brought us a lovely tin of biscuits and she stayed for a few games." the oldest says, voice quick and ready to answer whatever Alfie threw his way.

Alfie looks over them, then to where you had been sitting, seeing the money in a pile and he can't help the smirk that comes to his face. "And what's this?" he asks, looking to you.

"Well I won." you grin.

Alfie hides a snort of a laugh by rubbing his nose. "You can't keep clearing out the house love, I'll start losing bodies." he says, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

"But they seem to like it when I play with them." you pout and bat your lashes at him.

He quirks up a brow and looks to the men. "Yessir." they all say in an unenthusiastic response.

"At least you know they're poor liars." you laugh and turn back to them. "I had no intention on taking your money boys." you roll your eyes and see the tension visibly leave their bodies. "Not gonna keep a child from their sweeties or a man from his drink." you say obviously. "You boys know what you lost?" you ask.

"Yes Miss." they all answer and you chuckle.

"Of course you do. Wouldn't be working for Solomons here if you didn't would you?" you smile and look up at him.

"You go on and wait in my office you cheeky bugger." he leans in and whispers and you give him a pout for dismissing you.

He grunts and lowers his brow. "Don't give me that look Genny." he says in a low tone. The tone struck fear into the men around you but it certainly didn't you.

"What look?" you swish your skirt and smile temptingly at him.

"'At one." he says tapping your nose as you grin when he leans in close so the other men can't hear him, speaking into your ear.  "The one where you make me melt and give you what you want." he whispers, looking down at you as if he were scolding you.

"If you can read me so well..." you challenge. "What do I want, right now?" you push back.

"Trouble. Innit nuffin' new there." he hides a grin but you see it in his eyes. "Go wait in the office, love." he says again much more gently.

"Don't be long." you say with a kiss to his cheek. He turns to watch you leave, loving the sight, waiting until you're out of ear shot.

He snaps back quickly to see if anyone else had been looking at you. "What the fuck are you lads doin'? What'd I say about messin' wif me missus?" he says with a low brow and crossed arms.

"We weren't doin' nuffin' sir, she's lovely." the youngest says and Alfie quirks a brow.

The young man's mouth stutters open. "I didn't mean it like 'at, sir. She's very nice. A very nice lady." he nods aggressively.

"She brought us biscuits, she asked what we were doin' we didn't want to say no 'cause 'a her bein' yours and because she was nice enough to bring us the biscuits." the oldest explains.

"And I told ya to treat her like ya mum. You tell me... ya play fuckin' cards with ya mum?" he snarks.

"No but me bubbe and I do." the youngest says and Alfie sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Ya get ya arse handed to ya when ya play with her too?" he jokes.

"No." he shakes his head.

"You lettin' her win? Be honest." he scolds

"No!" the youngest says a little too enthusiastically and Alfie snorts out an amused sound. "I mean... no. She's... she's good." he says quietly and nods.

"She is that." the oldest concurs.

"Good to know." Alfie nods. "Next time. Just go back to treatin' her like you were wif ya's mum's, right? Politely dismiss her. She'll cause no trouble." he says with a sigh and letting his arms go back to his sides.

"Seems rather impossible, sir. Tony's mum looks like a bull." the youngest adds.

"Oh fuck off, yours looks like those birds that hang about St Paul's." Tony barks back.

Alfie sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Right lads... treat her like... angel then... yeah? Like she is already Mrs. Solomons and I'd kill you if you even looked at her cross. Because I would." he gives a heavy nod. "Treat her like SHE could fuckin' kill you for lookin' at her cross because she bloody well could, right?" he says with pursed lips. "And I wunnit fuckin' stop her." he adds with a wag of his fingers.

They'd heard the stories about you, and they knew he wasn't joking. "Yes sir." they all answer in a broken rhythm.

"Right. Now back to fuckin' work." he orders.

"But we've still go-"

"BACK TO FUCKIN' WORK!" he roars, setting the tone back as it should be.

He saunters back to his office where you wait for him, leaning against the table. You move to put your hand on Alfie's stomach and kiss his cheek.

"What do I owe for this lovely surprise?" he asks, looking you over.

"I was in the city and found a cake I thought you'd like so I thought I'd stop by to see if you had the time to have tea." you say innocently.

"I do." he says with a pout and a nod. He nods for the tea to be brought in with a two finger demand. He sits in his chair, legs spread and pulls you down to sit on his lap. "You know you're gonna spoils those boys, love." he says with a scolding tone.

"They were just biscuits," you say defensively. "I taught them a lesson on playing cards at least." you offer with a sassy shrug. "Besides, all you do is scream at them." you let out a huff of a laugh. "Try some honey and not vinegar with them and see where it gets you, darling." your tone soft and sweet again.

"That why they like you so much 'n not me?" he grins, faking his feelings being hurt and you snicker.

"You need to treat the beasts with care." you say stroking his cheek.

“How’s bout treatin ya 'ol Alfie with some care then, eh?”  he beckons you closer with a cocky nod of his chin and mischief in his eyes.

"Oh my poor baby." you coo and his eyes shut, a closed mouth smile on his face. "Didn't mean to make him feel left out." you kiss his cheeks. "The boss always comes first, doesn't he? My apologies, darling. If I'd known you felt neglected I certainly would have started fussing over you sooner." you pepper his face and neck with kisses and he hums contently.

"If them's the rules, boss comin' first 'n that, that'd made you the boss wunnit?" he lets out a deep chuckle and you snort at him.

"Cheeky bugger." you giggle, rubbing your nose against his. Once he's purring like a kitten, you tell him of your plans for a greenhouse and he laughs at your ability to get inspired by a cake.

"Since you were such a thoughtful little bird, comin' 'n seein' me for tea 'n bringin' a cake as sweet as you, might I ask ya to extend that charity towards me in the form of a favor, love?" he moves his head and hands in his usual charismatic way, a firm hold on your hip with him one hand, keeping you close to him.

"Should've known that sweet talk was because you needed something." you grin, scratching his chin through his beard.

"Nah. Sweet talk comes 'cause you, love. I just so happened to have been plannin' on askin' a favor of ya anyway." he smirks.

"Sure you were Alfie." you giggle, kissing his cheek. "What is it that you need, darling?" you ask with annoyed tone but you plant another kiss to his temple.

"There's this man that was a big to-do in the jewelry quarter, I worked with him for years, runnin' stolen merchandise through him and movin' things fast for him." he gestures with his hand vaguely. "Seems he has passed away and I need to make an appearance at the funeral." he says with his bottom lip pouting underneath his mustache. "And I fuckin' hate funerals, love. I do." he nods.

"I'm no fan myself." you shrug. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I wanted to ask if you would come with me."

"Ugh. Really?" you whine and sulk.

"Yeah, fuckin' really," he whines and imitates you, earning him a playful slap to the chest. "It's one of them big 'ol Catholic cathedrals and I thought perhaps you bein' familiar with that sorta thing, havin' you there might make it more tolerable, love. Have a show of solidarity by us both goin'."

"Don't make me go back inside a Catholic church, Alfie." you sigh. "So many years spent being caned by nuns, I'm afraid I might have an episode if I had to hear Latin again and feel the air heavy with guilt." you roll your eyes and chuckle.

"Think of it as an excuse to give a real, fuck you to 'em then, love." he grins. "You not bein' one with Christ no more 'n all." he shrugs. "Thought you might wanna show off in somethin'. Ya look awfully stunnin' in black."

"You are a silver-tongued serpent Alfie." you scold and he grins boyishly.

"But ya do. And I can introduce to you loads of my jewelry mates, can't I? You can put some faces to names, yeah? You've even said yourself you should make more London contacts here in the quarter. I know lots of men that'll get rid of stolen jewels for ya, Gen." he inflects his voice upward, trying to use logic over flattery to convince you.

You hum uncertainly. "I'm not sure..." you say with a finger to your lips, eyes up and roaming the ceiling as if you were in thought.

"Cheeky little thing." he chuckles. "I"ll make it worth your while, yeah? How's about some sexual favors, eh? That something ya fancy?"

"You know me too well, Alfie. You're dangerous." you laugh and sigh.

"Come with me and I'll make it so you the next day you couldn't walk anywhere, let alone into a church after what I've done to ya. Yeah?" he grins and winks, pinching your bum, fingers tickling up your thighs and making you squirm.

"Ask me nicely." you giggle and sit up straight, smiling smugly. "Ask me proper and I'll say yes." your smile grows to show your teeth.

"Oh my sweet little Chanah." he laments, running his hand down the side of your face. "Would you do me that great pleasure of accompanying me to this event, so I can show you off? I would personally consider it such a favor to me, yeah? If you would please, come with me this funeral, love." he pulls your face in closer to him and your smiles each grow at the cheekiness you were both giving in to.

"I'll go with you." you say hesitantly but you kiss him anyway.

"Thank you, you absolute angel." he coos and gives you a noisy smooch.

"Sounds like I'll be no angel after you're through with me." you coo and flirt.

"Did you not know?" he feigns surprise. "You're already the bloody devil, I was just bein' funny." he grins.

You laugh from deep in your stomach, the slightest slap to his cheek as he beams at you before holding your hand and bringing your laughing mouths together. "You're a right bastard, Alfie." you chuckle and he wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss.

"Well the devil and a bastard seem like a perfect pairin' to me, love." he hums against you, beginning a heated little snog in his lap before Ollie interrupts, as the poor lad always has to, telling him his next meeting would be in soon. "Fuckin' thanks as always, mate." Alfie grumbles, waving him off. " Always interruptin' me at the good parts, innit he?" he says staying close to your face.

"Maybe next time we should just fuck on your desk, absolutely starkers and see if he stops after that." you titter.

"Ahhhh." Alfie gruffs out in a scolding tone. "Gonna have to get some blinds put up in here innit we?" he chuckles. "'Cause I would love nothin' more than to bend you over and fuck you on top of last month's accounts love, believe me." he grins and you give him another kiss as your rise off his lap.

"We'll save it for later then?" you lilt, straightening your skirt. "Get some blinds put up and we'll see what sort of naughtiness we can get into in here," you say walking over to his desk, you bend over slightly as if to look at the papers. "A bit of role play could always be fun." you give a coy shrug. "Mr. Solomons... I'm afraid I made a mistake on last months accounts... I know I deserved to be punished just... be  gentle, please? I know you're such a rough man." you stick your bum out and soften your voice and a wicked laugh erupts from him.

"You are a fuckin' dirty little girl innit ya?" he groans, grabbing a handful of your arse tightly and putting his hand to your cheek. "Gonna leave me with a fuckin' hard knob to greet the next lad? Rude." he laughs and kisses you gently for his tone used.

"Be sure to bring it next time you see me and I'm certain we'll find something to do with it." you smirk and grab his bum back. "Now let me go before someone see's." you giggle as he makes growling noises into your neck and pecks you aggressively with kisses.

"Let 'em fuckin' watch..." he says loudly and playfully as your laugh rises in volume and you push him away before scampering towards the door with a happy smile on your face.

"Mr. Solomons. What would you wife think?" you say with fake shock.

"Oh you filthy bird!" he laughs. "You gonna get yaself in trouble little Miss." he scolds and wags a finger at you.

"I'm always lookin' for trouble aren't I darling? That's what you keep tell me anyway." you shrug coyly and he meets you in a final embrace, an affectionate and short kiss.

"You are trouble incarnate, Genevieve. And I love ya for it." another noisier smooch granted to you.

"I love you too." you coo back, another quick peck. "I'll see you at the church, darling. Until then..." you say pulling away, tapping your finger to his nose. "Behave." you playfully scold.

"Fuckin' useless innit?" a wrinkle of his nose as he grins mischievously at you. He sighs, forearm on the door as he watches that round bum of yours strut down the path to the door. "Ugh. Fuckin' love that little woman." he chuckles, mumbling to himself before he turns back into his office.

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[urmomsstuntdouble]

whippity woo, it’s chapter 2

you can read it down there too if you’d prefer that

An anachronism is something that doesn't belong to its place or time. To Catra, that definition was redundant. A time was as much of a place as the alley she smoked in or the library she worked at. The only difference was that you couldn't choose your place in time. So really, an anachronism was something alien to its environment. Then again, there wasn't a point in getting worked up over stuff like that. She could always look away from the word-a-day calendar on the principal’s desk. But she was in trouble, and it would be a lot harder to look him in the eye when he scolded her. So she kept her head down, and remained critical of the calendar.

“Ms. Driluth,” He began drawled, “Do you know why you’re here right now?” She shrugged. It could have been anything, although three specific things stood out: The money she stole from Alicia Jordan, the fight with Iggy’s girlfriend, or her foster dad's drug ring. She wasn't sure how any of those had made their way to her principal, but it didn't matter. She was handling things.

The principal sighed. He leaned forward, and picked up a sheet of paper from his desk.

“Are you aware of your grades?” She shook her head. “Ah. Allow me to read them to you. In English, a C. In Algebra, a D. In Biology, an F. In History, a C. In Spanish-” He sighed, and set down the paper. “Do I need to continue?”

“Any A’s?”  

“No.”

“Damn, I was really hoping to keep my 4.0 going strong,” She mused sarcastically. The principal did not appear amused.

“This is no laughing matter, Ms. Driluth. If you can't bring your grades up, you’ll be suspended.”

“I never understood the point of suspension,” She said, finally raising her head. “I’m doing bad in school so I don't have to come? What kind of sense does that make? Not that I’m complaining,” She added, “I don't get it is all.” The principal was not amused. His eyes remained focused on Catra, his brows furrowed and his jowls pinched into a frown.

“Don't change the subject.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Getti.”

“Hmm. For now, all I can do is give you detention.” He pulled another slip of paper from his desk and began scribbling all over it. “You will stay for two hours after school every day until Thanksgiving break.”

“What?! That’s not fair!”

“I think its absolutely fair, Ms. Driluth.”

“I have work after school! How am I supposed to do that and detention and bring my grades up?” Mr. Getti shrugged.

“You should have thought of that before you decided to slack.”

“But, Mr. Getti!” Catra could feel the whine slipping into her voice. She hated whining, but she wasn't done talking yet. It was quite the predicament. “That’s so long! Break isn't for another three whole weeks! I can't-”

“Not my problem, Driluth. Take it to someone who cares.” He handed her the detention slip. “You will report to room 205 after school.”

“Come on, Mr. Getti. You have to at least let me do my time on the third floor.”

“That will be all, Ms. Driluth. Now get out of my office, you’re wasting my time.”

“Oh, I’m wasting your time?” Mr. Getti pulled off his glasses and fixed her with a serious look.

“Would you care to make it four weeks?” Catra prepared to retort, and almost started yelling, but managed to reign herself in.

“No, Mr. Getti,” She gritted out, “I’m absolutely overjoyed with my three weeks.”

“Excellent,” He replied. “Now get out of my office before I call security.” Catra stuck out her tongue, grabbed her backpack, and stalked out of his office. She kicked the door shut with as much force as she could muster. She her foot was in the air to kick it again when someone called her name.

“Hey, Catra!” She recognized that voice. As if like magic, her worries faded away. She spun around, a grin on her face.

“Adora!” Down the hall was Adora, her best friend in the entire world. She was tall with blond hair and blue eyes, and could have a career in modeling if she didn't love sports so much. Catra put up a hand and waved- As if Adora would have a hard time spotting her in the empty hallway. “What are you doing here? Isn't it fifth period?” Adora shook her head.

“Nope, lunch just started. I was talking to Mr. Ross. What are you doing here?” Catra shrugged.

“Nothing much, just Mr. Getti fucking hates me.” Adora’s face was immediately sympathetic.

“What happened this time?” Catra held up her detention slip.

“Fucking three weeks of detention is what!”

“Why?” Adora asked, her nose scrunched into a button.

“Apparently, my grades are too bad- Which they’re not, by the way. I swear he has it out for me.” Adora hummed in acknowledgement.

“How are they? Your grades?”

“They’re fine. I’m not, like, failing everything, if that’s what you mean.” Adora hummed again.

“Good.”

“Yeah,” Catra said. They stood in silence for a moment, before Adora shifted her backpack and sighed.

“You, uh, ready to go to lunch? I’m starving.” Catra nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” The pair turned and began walking towards the cafeteria. Catra kept her head down as they walked, trying to align her feet with the tiles of the floor. She didn't actually want to eat lunch, but Adora did, so she’d go too. Most days, she only ate enough that Adora wouldn't worry about her. Adora worried a lot, and sometimes, Catra didn't mind it. At others, Catra would rather Adora stayed in her own lane. Besides, she didn't get it. Catra couldn't eat lunch. She was too fat to eat three meals a day.

“So, I’m just curious, but, like, how are your grades?” Adora asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “School hasn't been the same without you.” At the start of the school year, Adora got into all honors classes, leaving Catra behind in the world of regular-ness. She’d been badgering Catra about applying for next year ever since she found out she was going to be taking special classes.

“Fine.”

“How fine?” Catra bit her bottom lip, heat prickling at the back of her neck. She always hated this part. It was fact by now that whenever she talked about school, Adora's response made her feel stupid. Adora’s better test scores and neater notes had a remarkable tendency to rain on her parade. So Catra preferred to keep school out of their conversations.

“Not bad, okay? I’m only failing in Bio now, so-”

“You’re failing?!” Adora said, “That’s not fine! Do you need help studying?” Catra shrugged. It was an offer Adora had made before, but one she never accepted. She could handle her shit. She was handling it.  

“I think I’m good.”

“But you always say that, and you’re still failing!”

“Yeah, but I don't have- I can't.  Bio is just harder for me than you.”

“Sure, but-”

“It’s all good in Catra-town,” She said, and slung an arm around Adora’s shoulder. “Now come on. You have to tell me what happened in Razz’s class today.” Ms. Razz was a history teacher, and the least sane woman on the face of the Earth. She was absolutely insane, and many students hated her. Catra didn't have her, but she knew enough people who did to have a good grasp on how insane the woman was.  

“Oh!” Adora perked up, “Not much. Lonnie made a joke about cocaine, then Ms. Razz started ranting about the Opium Wars and Pablo Escobar.”

“Sounds delightful,” Catra said, and pulled her arm away from Adora as they reached the cafeteria.  

“I guess. But, like, none of her classes are ever on the same page. Its so annoying sometimes.” Catra shrugged.

“My Spanish teacher is like that too. I think he’s an escapee from a mental hospital or something.” The expression on Adora’s face was something of a cross between amused and curious. Part of it was natural inquisition, and the other part was that in New York, the rumors were more true than you’d expect.

“Cool,” Adora said, “I’m gonna go get our seats.” She left, running off to their usual table. Catra rolled her eyes. Adora had been doing that exact same thing since the first day of sixth grade. It must've been Pavlovian at this point. Catra qualified for a free lunch, so she got one while Adora found a table. No matter how many other people sat with her, she always made sure to save a seat for Catra. Never once in four years had Catra gone without a seat at lunch. That was nice. Sometimes nicer than others- Like when Catra actually got to sit at the table, rather than on Adora’s lap. But anyway, Catra had stability in her lunch table, which was more than some people could say.

After her mother died, her friends passed Catra around for a few years like in a game of hot potato. The last friend she stayed with had kids of her own. Her name was Ms. Weaver, even to her biological children. It was almost a full year before Catra gave up and sent a letter to Child Protective Services. Two months later, they showed up. They couldn't find anything wrong with the place, to Catra’s dismay, so they left. Later that night, she learned what it felt like to take the clasp of a belt to the eye and what the scar looked like.

But it was fine. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. And Catra was well aware of the risks- CPS would have had to take them for everything to have been alright. Ms. Weaver also had three more children that she was taking care of. Their names were Esme, Mick, and Luch. None of those were nicknames.  For the longest time, Catra had assumed their actual names were Esmeralda, Mickey, and Lucia, but that wasn’t the case. All three were younger than her, and sometimes it seemed like they had a bond. Other times, Catra feared them. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone. She couldn't be afraid of someone whose head barely reached her shoulders.

After a couple minutes of waiting, Catra was able to get her lunch. Her current foster dad had obscene wealth, although you wouldn't know it from looking at him. He was a tall man with hair dyed blue.  He wore eyeliner, but you usually couldn't see it from behind his red-tinted sunglasses. Parenting was not a priority to him. All he shared with Catra from his life was how to fake tax returns. She was pretty sure he had only taken her in for the benefit of his drug ring. Ever since she moved in with him, her arrest record was filling with drug charges.

After she got her lunch, she made her way over to the table. Adora had, as always, saved her a spot. Also at the table were Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle, three people Catra had known since before her mother died. At one point in time, they were her best friends, but such ceased to be true when the three of them switched into honors classes. But it was fine. Catra had new associates in her regular, shitty classes anyway. She didn't need them.

“Hey,” She said, setting her lunch on the table. Lonnie was the first to look up from her conversation with Rogelio.

“Hi,” She said, and immediately went back to talking to him. Rogelio was an interesting person, to say the least. He was tall and bulky, and had a green mohawk. When he was younger, he was a mute, but now, he could sort of talk. The only person who understood him was Lonnie. Their whole thing was super weird to Catra.

“Hi, Catra,” Adora said. She had become distracted with something- Homework, by the looks of it. She ate an apple with her right hand, and wrote with her left, not looking up.

“Whatcha doin, there, Adora?” She asked.

“Oh, this?” Adora glanced up, and took a bite of her apple. “It’s for Spanish.”

“Que interesante,” Catra replied. Spanish was an interesting subject for her. Her mom spoke some Spanish before she died, and Catra heard it at work, but never the kind they taught at school. That was always peninsular Spanish. And boy, were the Spaniards on something. Catra much prefered the sounds of New York immigrant Spanish to the bastardized version of Madrid Spanish she learned in the classroom.

“Verdaderamente!” Adora agreed, and went back to her worksheet. Great. Now that Adora was working, Catra had nobody to talk to. Well, she could talk to Kyle, but, like. It was Kyle. Come on, now. So instead, she ate her soggy, fattening french fries.

“I’m, uh, I’m going to the vending machine,” She announced to nobody in particular. Nobody looked up or acknowledged her. After a moment, she got up anyway. Instead of going to the vending machine, she wandered around the cafeteria. She was virtually unnoticed. She weaved around people and tables, seldom making eye contact with them. A few faces were familiar from class or drug deals, but most were completely foreign. But that didn't matter. She had Adora, even if the other girl was always busy with homework and sports.

As Catra wandered, she caught the eye of someone she recognized. A small girl, her hair braided, and her eyes almond shaped. The girl, along with a group of others, frequented her library. Though they had never spoken, Catra felt tempted to wave or go over and talk to her or something. What kind of conversation would that be? Hi, I’m aware of your existence. Please make me aware of more. That would be super weird. So Catra sent the girl a curt nod and kept walking. She wasn't sure, but she thought the girl nodded back.

When she grew bored, Catra returned to her table. She sat next to Adora, and tried to be quiet, but it wasn't long before she grew bored and time slowed to a crawl. With a groan, Catra grabbed her backpack from the floor. Doing her homework was always an option- And there was that Algebra worksheet she had to do. Doing math in any capacity usually made her hate being alive, but seeing as her grade was- What? A D? She could stand to do some more work. Her foster dad would kill her upon becoming aware of the D in math.

It wasn't long before they could leave the cafeteria. By the time the bell rang, Catra had gained frustration and understood less than she had when she started the worksheet.

“Ready to go?” Adora asked her, and she nodded. Catra was especially ready for gym in seventh period. That was her only class with Adora this year. But she had to slog- Or sleep- through Biology to get there. Maybe that was why she was failing that class.

“Yeah,” Catra responded, “Let’s go.” They walked together for as long as their schedules would allow before parting ways.

“Bye!” Catra called out, as she turned and started going up the stairs.

“See ya, Catra!” Adora yelled back. Catra grinned to herself. She loved the way Adora said her name, even though it was wrong. She fell into the common pitfall of replacing the first ‘a’ with an ‘e,’ but the way she finished the name off was unique. It was something only she had ever said before, and that made it special. The way Adora said her name…Catra couldn't put her finger on it, but it was sort of like a secret only the two of them knew. It was a shame Adora had a phonetic name and the secret couldn't go both ways.

Catra struggled to force herself through the rest of the day. Biology was on brand in levels of tediousness. When seventh period rolled around, Adora didn't even pay Catra any attention. She was too busy talking to some other girls from her fancy smart classes. Well, that was fine with Catra. She wasn't stupid. She understood that sometimes Adora had people besides Catra who wanted to talk to her, and she couldn't talk to Catra all the time. It was also annoying. Adora was her best friend, not Lonnie’s, or whoever else she was hanging out with.

Though she never joined the conversation, Catra eavesdropped all class. She caught little snippets, mostly from Adora. The other girls she was walking with had softer voices- Although Catra was pretty sure one of them was talking about her dad leaving. Which, by the way, she needed to grow up. Getting stuck up on shit like that only made it worse. And the girl seemed very stuck up on it. She had her hair dyed blue and everything. Heh. Probably part of her rebellious phase or whatever. As soon as her dad started paying child support, she’d be fine, back to being complicit in rich girl world.

When school was finally over, Catra did wind up staying for detention. Even though she talked a lot of shit, she needed to keep herself out of trouble right now. Her foster dad was losing his patience with her, and any more big screw ups would get her sent right back to the home. Or worse, Ms. Weaver’s apartment. She shuddered at the thought.

Despite not giving a shit about her, her foster dad was actually decent as foster parents went. He usually didn't hit her, and he wasn't very mean to her- if not blunt sometimes. He wanted her to do well in school, but didn't every parent? He was nowhere near being a parent, but he kept her safe and gave her money, and that was alright with her.

After her detention was up, Catra had to run to the library. She almost didn't make it in time for her shift, but that was sort of okay. Her job wasn't super important. Most of what she did was shelving books and putting labels on new ones. She made four dollars and hour doing it, and often saw people from school milling around. That day in particular, she spotted the girl she had seen at lunch. The girl was with a group now, who may or may not have also been at school. They hung out between shelves, made lots of noise, and didn't appear to care that they were in a library.

They stayed throughout her entire shift. When Catra was on her way out, she one of the actual librarians stopped her and brought into a side room.

“I’m sorry to hold you up, Catra, but we need to talk,” She said, as though she was talking to a child.

“Okay. What’s going on?” Catra asked slowly, only a little scared of the answer. The librarian sighed, and pinched her nose.

“This is hard to say, but…We’re broke. The library is out of money. We’re going to have to either close our doors or get rid of some employees.” Catra’s heart sank. She couldn't afford to lose this job! Where was she supposed to go after school? And what was she supposed to do about money?

“O-Okay,” She mumbled, glaring at her shoes.

“Its pretty unfortunate. I tried to convince my bosses not to fire anybody, but they didn't listen. So, Catra, I’m sorry to say this, but…You’re done here.”

“I understand,” Catra growled. Her life was over.

“I’m so sorry,” The librarian told her, “But we just can't afford to keep you on, and you’re in a low level position and everything. Its not an ideal situation.”

“It’s okay,” Catra said, composing herself. “I get it, man. No money, more problems, you know?” The librarian looked somewhat relieved.

“Yeah, totally. Its been super rough here the past few months. I’m sorry, though. That’s the first time I’ve ever had to fire anybody.” Catra had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Why did this librarian care so much? She didn't even know the woman’s name. “Oh, and, um. We’ll still send you your paycheck for November at the end of the month.”

“Thanks,” Catra nodded shortly, and then left the room. She took off her name tag and spiked it into a nearby trash can. “Fuck me,” She mumbled, and grabbed her backpack from behind the main desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” She kept mumbling as she went on her way. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

“Yo, you okay?” Catra was tugged from her thoughts by a somewhat familiar voice. She glanced around, and eventually noticed the girl from school. Instead of responding, her first instinct was to wave. She almost did before putting her hand back to her side.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got fired,” She said, a little bitter.

“That’s rough,” Said the girl. She left her spot leaning against a bookshelf and approached Catra. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I’m, uh, I’m good,” Catra said as a reflex.

“Oh, good. I don't know shit about talking feelings,” The girl said, and ran a hand through her hair. “Me and my girls were about to hit up this party down in Soho. You wanna come?” Catra shrugged. She should be getting back home. Her foster dad might want her to make a run tonight. Then again, fuck him. Wasn't that supposed to be someone’s actual job? He could get another drug mule whenever he pleased.

“Yeah, sure,” She said on a whim, “Let’s go.” She left with the girl and her group of friends, not knowing a single one of their names. By the night’s end, she learned a couple names- Tamari, Johnny, Matea- but likely couldn't pin them to faces. The music at the party had been okay. Nothing she particularly loved. But more important was the exorbitant quantity of alcohol present. The party was in a storage unit owned by some kid who went to Catholic school, with almost enough beer and Franzia to make Catra wonder if they were okay. Then again, she drank enough to make herself wonder if she was okay.  

She remembered that night in flashes. When they arrived, she was one of the few people in the room who looked like her. Most people wore tight shirts and baggy jeans, or tiny shorts with fishnets, or their hair like Madonna. Catra was anachronistic in her shredded black jeans, dark flannel, and Yankees cap. She felt the urge to find Adora and cling to her side, but Adora wasn't there. Adora was at home studying or something, like the good girl she was.

Catra clung instead to the group she had come with. They didn't pay her much attention, except to ask if she wanted a drink or a joint. She never turned anything down. At some point along the way, her goal turned from having a good time to losing the ability to think. She couldn't remember why; she was overcome by a horrible wave of sadness around ten and replaced it with alcohol. Then came the realization that being drunk was really fucking fun. She was a better dancer and singer, and she was funny.

When she woke up in the morning, Catra learned that the amount of fun one had while drinking was proportional to the amount of suffering the next day. When she woke up, Catra thought she might actually be dying. It was the equivalent of a biblical apocalypse inside her body. Locusts, floods, the whole nine yards. And that was only the headache.

“Oh, fuck me,” She tried to say, but her voice was so hoarse it came out as more of a whisper. She blinked in the bright light of the early morning, and brought a hand up to rub at her eyes. Shortly after, her greasy skin and tangled hair came to her attention. “Shit.” She glanced around her surroundings, and found herself in an apartment. She had no idea whose, but it wasn't the one they had started off in. That was a little strange, but it wasn't the worst place she'd woken up.

The first thing she noticed about the place was the carpet. It was soft under her fingers, and for a minute, she laid there and ran her fingers across the floor. She wasn't sure why, but the softness of the carpet gave her hope. Maybe because the person who lived here had a nice carpet, which meant it was possible for someone like her to have a nice carpet. At that point, what was stopping her from  having a nice carpet? But then again, she drank so much last night she struggled to remember getting drunk. So she didn't know if the owner of the carpet was like her at all, and she was back at square one.

Sitting up turned out to be a mistake. Catra’s vision went dark and she would have collapsed, were it not for the couch behind her. Her headache was not helped at all by sitting up; in fact, it increased tenfold.

“Oh, shit,” She mumbled.

“Shuddup,” A voice groaned from behind her, and a hand fell down onto her shoulder. Catra yelped in shock, and jumped to her feet. Also a mistake, but she was too busy paying attention to the adrenaline to notice that she wasn't ready to jump yet.

Laying on the couch was a girl- Catra believed her to be one of the people she had gone to the party with. The girl was face down, although she hadn't changed her clothes. She wore a denim skirt and a leather tank top, and had tightly coiled hair. Probably tight enough to fit a finger, but that was an experiment for another time.

“Tamari?” Catra guessed. The girl shifted her hand, dangling off the couch. She held up one thumb, and Catra wasn't certain, but she thought there was a small grin on the girl’s face.

“That’s me,” She sang. Catra nodded.

“O-Okay, great. Um, where are we?” Tamari shrugged.

“I ain’t remember, man,” She said, and shifted on the couch to face Catra. “I’m fucking tired,” With a giggle, “I’m still drunk.”

Catra grunted in response. She cursed herself for going along with a group of people with a similar distaste for sobriety. Tamari groaned, and shifted into a different position. Facing Catra, she was able to squint around the rest of the apartment and see what she could see.

“This looks like, uh…Matea’s place. Well, it ain’t belong to her, it belongs to her parents, but, uh…” She trailed off. “Shit, man, this couch is fuckin comfortable.” A corner of Catra’s mouth twitched.

“Is it soft?” She asked.

“No shit,” Tamari responded. She pulled her knees into her chest, leaving the other side of the couch open. “You can sit if you want.” Catra did. She more curled into the armrest bit, as she was finally free of the tremendous effort of standing while hungover. The couch was a haven, and so soft. Not quite as nice as the carpet, but also not far off. If only she could have slept on the couch last night too…

In a couple hours, almost everyone else had woken up. This was, indeed, Matea’s place. Matea was a small, Eastern European girl who spoke with a heavy accent and had a mouth full of dying teeth. She claimed not to be rich, but her family had more money than Catra would know what to do with. As it turned out, daydreaming of infinite wealth got boring after you fixed all your problems. Even so, drowning in money never did sound all that bad.

“Anybody want eat something?” Matea asked, her voice low and gravelly. Catra shook her head, even though she was hungry. She sat with the group of strangers while they ate, and attempted to recall their names. It wouldn't be long before she remembered what day it was.

“It’s Thursday!” She shouted, jumping to her feet, “Shit, what time is it?” She glanced around wildly for a clock. There wasn't one in the room she was currently in, so she ventured off to look for one. Nobody followed her, and she eventually found one in a bedroom. It was ten thirty two, and she should've been to be in English right now. She didn't even know where she was, let alone how to get all the way back to school! Oh, this was all too much. Her foster dad was going to kill her when he found out she missed school.

“Yo, Catra!” A voice called out, snapping her back to the moment. “Where you at?” She stepped out of the bedroom, trying to compose herself.

“Over here,” She said, trying to keep her voice lower than it actually was.

“Yo,” A boy said, turning the corner. “What’s your deal?”

“What’s my deal?” She echoed, “It’s Thursday, dude. I need to be at school.”

“Chill, bro. We're skipping today.”

“I can't skip,” She said slowly, “My dad-”

“Man, fuck your dad,” The boy said, “What’s he gonna do to you? You got a job, right?” Catra shook her head.

“No, dude, I got fired last night. That’s the whole stupid reason I went with you to that party!”

“Alright, chill. My bad.” The boy scratched the back of his head. “But you still got some money, right?” She nodded. “A’ight, so what exactly are you so afraid of?” Catra opened her mouth to respond, but found that she didn't know. She blinked a couple times, trying to think of something. All her foster dad cared about were her grades and selling drugs, so if she could keep her grades up, who cared about her attendance? He only hit her when she deserved it- And she could take it anyway. So, yeah, the boy was right. There wasn't anything to be afraid of.

“Actually, yeah. You’re right,” Catra said, “Son of a bitch doesn't care about me anyway.”

“Yeah, see, you’re fine,” The boy said, “Now come on. You needa eat something, for real. You’re skinny as hell.” Catra held her tongue on arguing with him, even though he was wrong. It wouldn't lead them anywhere.

That was the first time Catra missed school. It was a sort of definitive marker in her life, although she wouldn't remember it. She would only remember that it started when she was a freshman. It wasn't long before she started showing up to school drunk, too. Those were the best days. Everybody loved her when she was drunk. Adora thought she was hilarious, and actually paid attention to her when they talked at lunch. By the time her detention was up, Catra had learned a whole new way of living.

There was only one downside to drinking and smoking and partying like she did. Her foster dad didn't like it. And yeah, he hit her a couple times, but there was nothing wrong with that. Nothing that she could see, at the very least.

Not once did it ever occur to Catra that she would develop an addiction. It was always just this once, or just for fun. But that was the thing about becoming an alcoholic or a drug addict. You say just this once, then twice, and the next thing you know, you’re addicted. And she didn't even realize it. On a subconscious level, she was able to better understand why her foster dad sold drugs. He got his highs from selling, and Catra got hers from using.

As the school year progressed, Catra grew further and further apart from Adora. From the outside, it was quite natural. Everybody thinks childhood friendships are parallel lines, but that couldn't be further from the truth. They each fell in with their new friends and people. Unfortunately, Adora found her people while Catra was left behind with people she couldn't force herself to love. All the while, she watched Adora get everything she ever wanted without even trying for it. They still spoke, but not as much. It was over Christmas break that Catra realized she wasn't Adora’s best friend anymore. That revelation was about all she remembered from that week, actually. She found herself blacking out more and more lately. Who could blame her? She was watching herself slip away from everybody she cared about, and there was nothing she could do about it.

By the time spring rolled around, the Catra most people claimed to know was dead and gone.

[krystalia-productions]

Suave’s Bio

AU: Candy Factory Dicetale AU

Name: Sans Zariaki (Sans Hudson) Nickname(s): Dice (mostly just in his AU), Suave Sex: Male Age: 30 Species: Skeleton monster Sexuality: Pansexual Height: 5'3 Weight: 140 lbs Birthday: December 23rd Relationship Status: Single Likes: being stylish, having the finer clothes and all. Being mostly away from others. His more darker and or secretive jobs that he does. Being able to pretty much do what he wants. Being better than his family. Peppermint candy. Making magical potions as a secretive second job. Also likes seeing blood spill, and sometimes even splatter. He also likes sword fighting, and even has a training room for such. Enjoys making smaller sweets and basic cooking. Also reading and watching anime. Favorite color is blue. Really likes various kinds of tea. Dislikes: His biological parents. Being frustrated and or tired. Being rich and kinda well-known. Also being rejected as a person. Being out in public and being recognized. Not knowing much about his brother. When he fails to create a potion or even when it blows up in his face. When he's forgetful. Any scars he has. Personality: Suave is insane and surprisingly hard-working when it comes to his job, which he doesn’t like all that much. He is also a bit of a flirt if you are around him and you are appealing to him, personality or style wise. He doesn't expect flirtation back (as he isn't around others often) but when it does happen, he easily becomes a bit shy as well as his face becoming rather flushed. He also certainly doesn’t expect any advances either.

Not only does Suave make candy for a living, but he makes all kinds of magical potions as a more secretive job. This is one of the favorite parts of his day to him, as he enjoys creating such things. He hand bottles each of them, and makes each of the bottles their own labels.

He also like swords and knives, and even is extremely skilled with such weapons. He loves to practice with the sharp items, and even uses them on training dummies to get out frustration or anger that he does not want. Also, he can definitely throw knives with hella good aim.

He also of course enjoys some games such as Chess, Checkers, and other classic board games (especially monopoly, of course).

Other things are that he does know ASL (american sign language), he still has the white and black jacket and blue converse his mother and father gave him, he has self-harmed before and still has light scars, but does not currently self-harm anymore, plays the saxophone and the violin, and doesn't use his magic too often (except if an intruder gets violent, but he likes threatening with his sword even more).

Background: (Note: all is already on the surface. If you have not noticed already, this AU is very different) Suave was a pretty happy child, and he always tried to help his parents with anything they needed. His family was pretty poor, so he never really asked for anything, so he just played whatever board games they had and learned whatever he could. His parents didn't care much for him, but taught him stuff he should know (cooking, cleaning, etc), but taught him not to speak much, and mostly sign. When his brother came along, Suave was overjoyed. He couldn't wait to spend more time with his new baby brother. Unfortunately, their parents thought otherwise, and decided they didn’t want kids plaguing their lives and taking up extra money. Both Suave and Nikolai (Papyrus) were put up for adoption, and were eventually separated from each other. It's unknown where Nikolai ended up going. Suave on the other hand, was adopted by an older man, an owner of a small candy shop, by the name of Jeremiah Hudson. Suave was depressed for the first two months of being adopted by Jeremiah, but soon after they started growing closer little by little. Jeremiah happily taught Suave how to make different kinds of candies and chocolate, which is where Suave found his love for peppermint candy. Not only this, but he also taught Suave some sword fighting skills and how to throw knives for sport. Through the years, Suave enjoyed being in the home and company of Jeremiah, and even started calling him his father. The candy shop had gained more popularity as well, which wasn't a bad thing until the shop was robbed by armed men and monsters, and both Suave and Jeremiah were injured severely. Although, Suave did drive them out with threats and some fighting back with magic and even some knives. Suave was able to survive and recover, but ended up with some scars (the scars on his face and a few on his ribcage). Jeremiah did not survive and ended up dying a week later of the crime. Suave did not take the news well, as he went into depression and basically become emotionless. By this time, Suave was 25 years old, and could live without Jeremiah, but the loss was too much for him. When he was released from the hospital and made it home, he snapped (or went insane I should say).

Suave gained ownership of the candy shop, as Jeremiah had no other family, and had put Suave in his will to take it after he was adopted. He kept the shop running the way Jeremiah had it, but eventually started making much bigger plans. Better recipes for the candy and chocolates, and ways to get it to places he couldn't. His insanity took over and he went for something bigger than ever. This lead to the big factory being built, and while it was, he gained more knowledge about swords and knives, potion making, and preservation of body organs or parts.. When the factory was finished, he isolated himself in the place, with some secret workers to help him out there. He found the finer side of life, and got himself into new styles he never knew of, and eventually became the skeleton he is today. Since he doesn't go out much, he doesn't really have any friends. (besides those who might be from other AUs.) He still creates all the candies and chocolates that his adoptive father made, along with some added flavors. His seperate job inside the factory consists of selling potions (he's still learning tbh) and diving into bodies for organs and even cutting off certain limbs. Normally he grabs intruders in his factory unless he's not really feeling like it. He uses these things for some potion recipes.

.:Relationships:. (Canon in AU) Nikolai (Papyrus) Zariaki (Candy Factory AU!Dicetale!Papyrus)- Suave barely got to know him since they were separated from each other so early after Nikolai’s birth. Suave hasn't seen him since and has always worried for him, but with him not knowing where he is, and not having much time to look, there isn't much he can do.

Alyssandra and Gaster Zariaki (biological parents)- Suave doesn't particularly like either of his parents after putting both him and his brother up for adoption without a single thought or care. He hasn't seen them since then, and hasn't cared about them since then as well.

Jeremiah Hudson (adoptive human father)- Suave had a great relationship with him, and even called him his father after a while of living with him. Jeremiah taught him all kinds of new things, but lead him on the road to his candy factory in the end. Suave lost him when he was 25 years old and snapped after being released from the hospital. He's been messed up since Jeremiah’s death.

(Canon with other AUs)

Dice(Classic Dicetale! Sans) - they don't meet up much. It's rare that they even really talk to each other. Dice just likes to check up on him, knowing that Suave (on the inside) has a lot going on in his head. Sometimes they switch clothes so that Suave can get away from the factory for little bit. Dice doesn't mind the stylish clothing or attitude he has, Suave is just trying to cope after all.

Rice(Evil AU! Dice) - the two don't really get along, despite them both being killers. Suave doesn't agree with killing innocents, or those whom you don't know if they have done anything horrible or not. Rice does drink a lot and vent about his problems to Suave, knowing Suave doesn't really listen or really care, nor does he go out much. So it's unlikely anyone would hear about Rice’s whining. Rice is that one customer that buys most of Suave’s smoke bomb potions though!

Thrice(Happy Ending AU! Dice) - These two get along pretty well, even if Thrice doesn't approve of him killing those who come into his factory without permission. They have some pretty delightful conversations and Thrice sometimes helps with making new recipes for candies, which makes Suave a little more delighted about the candy part of his job.

World Domination AU! Dice - they don't talk too much, as this Dice is normally quiet most of the time. Sometimes he creeps Suave out when he stares intently. Either way, Suave lets him try safe recipes when needed and this Dice finds delight in the wonderful tastes of the candy Suave makes.

((yeah, i made him a bio. a while ago actually. i just recently updated the last part, but i still might update some later. if you would like for one of your certain character to have some form of relationship with him, always feel free to ask. i dont mind. with any of my characters as a matter of fact. but anyway, enjoy this boi’s bio))

[styleatacertainage]

DECEMBER | REBECCA WHITE

every once in awhile an email lands in your inbox that makes you pause. no, i’m not talking about the ones that begin with ‘hey there’ or ‘hi’ then launch directly into their pitch. heck, those emails are deleted in a nanosecond. i mean, how much time does it take to research my name? exactly. but waaayy back in october a delightful email landed in my box from rebecca white, former Dean of University of Georgia Law School. in fact, rebecca was the first and hopefully not the last woman that served as dean. impressive. the purpose of the email was short and to the point, as only a lawyer would pen. but it did its job as it grabbed my attention, so i fired off a quick response and drinks was penciled in the following week.

and i’m ever so happy i did. that is meet for drinks because here’s what i learned. rebecca and her sister jane recently started a handbag company they named Hanner Clarke. guess what ladies? each of these remarkable women is past the age of 40. don’t you love it? new ventures are similar to style – there’s no expiration date.

of course, jane carried one of her exquisite handbags with her that night. so yours truly was able to ooh and aww over the leather (from italy) and the design (made in the U.S.A.), and i immediately knew i had to introduce the fledgling company with all of you. but i have to share with you that the best part of the evening didn’t have so much to do with the handbag but getting to know the woman behind the product. are you ready to read more about rebecca and her sister jane? here are a brief bio and the Over | Under interview.

Jane Hanner Allen and Rebecca Hanner White are sisters, lawyers, and purse lovers. Each comes to their new venture, Hanner Clarke, after distinguished legal careers.

Attention to detail, expectations for quality of the highest order, and responsiveness to client needs have been carried over to Hanner Clarke. Additionally, years of searching for the perfect handbag have given them a clear sense of what the market needs.

Their experience in and out of the workplace, coupled with decades of working with and mentoring young professionals, have given them an insight into what women of all ages are looking for in a handbag, allowing them to create purses that are functional, feminine, luxurious, and elegant. Hanner Clarke bags are classic and timeless.

In 2000, Jane founded Counsel on Call, a legal services company that has been named to Inc. magazine’s list of the 500 fastest-growing, privately held companies in the U.S. three times and that has grown to become the leading new model legal services provider. The company currently has offices across the country, and three Managed Services Centers. As Founder, she currently leads the development of the company and serves on Counsel on Call’s Board of Directors.

Rebecca is Dean and J. Alton Hosch Professor of Law Emeritus at the University of Georgia. She is the only woman to have served as the law school’s dean. She joined UGA’s law faculty in 1989, and before her deanship served as associate provost and associate vice president of academic affairs for UGA. She is a specialist in labor and employment law.

Both Jane and Rebecca credit their passion for the law to their father, Ivan Hanner, who strongly encouraged his daughters to become lawyers, at a time when few women were in the profession. Jane and Rebecca’s love of fashion, including their love of purses, comes from their mother, Dolores Clarke Pelc. Hanner Clarke, a brand exemplifying professional yet feminine design, is named in their honor.

Q: Are you over or under the age of 40?

Rebecca and Jane:  We’re both over 40.

Q:  Where does your inspiration come from?

Rebecca: I draw inspiration from the people around me, most especially my family.  They inspire me to be the best I can be and to recognize and remember what is most important in life.  

Jane: People around me, especially family members, and those that push me to use gifts that I may not even know exist—to be a better person.

Q:  What inspired you to found your own company?

Rebecca and Jane:  We had been searching for over ten years for the perfect purse, one that was professional and feminine, that slid easily onto the shoulder, was lightweight and was not covered in logos.  When we couldn’t find it, we would laughingly say that we should just make it ourselves!  Eventually, we started thinking seriously about it, recognizing that other women were likely looking for it too.  Seeing there was a need in the market that wasn’t being met, we decided to go for it.  One of our tag lines is, “We found the perfect handbag; we just had to make it.”

Q: Ocean, lake or pool?

Rebecca:   While I love night swimming in a pool, I’m an ocean person.

Jane:  Ocean

Q: What advice would you give your 20something self if you could?

Rebecca:  You shouldn’t pass up a chance to say “I love you.”  Also, try to live more in the moment.

Jane:  Trust yourself and the journey you are on.

                                                                                     Q:  Do you have a motto?

Rebecca:  While I share Rebecca Mead’s skepticism that George Eliot really said it, I do agree that “It is never too late to be what you might have been.”

Jane: “Put yourself in the other person’s shoes.”

                                                                       Jane

Q: What do you think of first impressions?

Rebecca:  I’ve learned over time that first impressions are not always accurate.  Don’t rush to judgment.

Jane:  Not that it is a good thing, but I do believe first impressions matter.  As I age, I try not to form them as I realize how often they are inaccurate and can be quite hurtful.

                                   Q:  What is the best advice anyone has ever given you?

Rebecca: Go to law school.

Jane: Someone told me that when thinking about a big decision, sit on it, think and pray about it, and then listen to where you are led.

                                                                  Q: Everyone has to start somewhere. What was your first job?

Rebecca:  Television news reporter in Lexington, Ky.

Jane:  Lifeguard in high school and elementary school teacher right out of college.

                                              Q:  Rebecca, you were formerly the Dean of UGA School of Law.  How did that tenure prepare you for a second career?

Rebecca: While fashion design and merchandising is a world away from being a law school dean, both require patience, problem-solving, creativity and working well with others.  And did I mention patience?

                                          Q:  Jane, you founded and were the CEO of Counsel on Call.  How did that experience prepare you for this new venture?

Jane:  Having started and grown Counsel on Call enabled me to understand the complexities of starting and growing a business. It provided the experience and confidence to believe that if you want to do something, to create something that you believe other people need/want, then go ahead and do it.

                ��                Q: How do you describe your style?

Rebecca:  Classically elegant.  At least that’s what I strive for.  And I think it’s a style that describes Hanner Clarke’s underlying aesthetic as well.

Jane: Professional and feminine and yet often casual chic

                                   Q: Hanner Clarke Handbags was founded by you and your sister Jane was it a difficult decision to go into business with your sibling?

Rebecca: The chance to work with Jane and to create something together was the driving force for me in making this transition from law into handbag design and entrepreneurship.   I greatly admire and respect my sister, and I love her deeply.  That we are on this path together is what makes it so enriching and rewarding.  

Jane: The ability to work with someone I love and admire, respect and have always looked up to and have gone to for advice—that was the best part about starting Hanner Clarke.

what a delightful interview, rebecca, and jane! thanks so much for sharing your thoughts with us. and ladies, guess what? Hanner Clarke is extending a discount to all of my lovely readers (just in time for Santa). please use code STYLE to receive a 20% discount at Hanner Clarke. happy shopping!

[ellenembee]

Stayin' Alive

A “Give a Heart, Get a Throne” drabble. Previous drabbles available on AO3 (see my bio or fic page).

“Tell me something true.”

Leliana turns to her companion. The ingrained caution, a wariness she expertly stows behind a cool exterior, causes a hiccup in her chest when she meets earnest chocolate eyes sparkling in firelight. She doesn’t lie as often as she used to. Doesn’t mean she can’t or won’t. Problem is, she doesn’t want to lie to this particular companion.

“What kind of truth do you seek?” Leliana deflects.

Neria’s clear, trusting eyes flick to the flames licking at the wood of their small fire as she considers Leliana’s question. Finally, the elf shrugs and bestows a persuasive smile on her audience of one.

“Whatever truth you are willing to give. I can offer a truth of my own in return if that helps motivate you. Anything you choose.”

Leliana shivers imperceptibly at the offering and wonders if she ought to have gone to bed when Sten and Wynne had retired for the night - the former with a grunt and the latter with an admonishment not to stay up too late. Already deep in the Brecilian forest, they had decided to push on instead of returning to the main camp, which meant setting up watches and wards. She’d stayed up to help Neria with both.

Leliana knows she should rest. One should sleep as much as possible the night before infiltrating a werewolf den. But she cannot seem to leave Neria’s side… no matter how dangerous the conversation becomes.

“Indeed, that is a powerful motivator, but it is unwise to allow me to choose,” Leliana teases. “What if I demand to know your deepest, darkest secret?”

“You’ll have to give me something equally deep and dark, then,” Neria fires back with a grin.

The teasing light in Neria’s eyes fades as she stares at Leliana, and Leliana loses herself for a moment. Visions invade her tightly armored heart - soft porcelain skin under her fingertips, desire-brightened eyes closing in fevered delight at a single touch. Leliana’s gaze turns soft and unfocused, but when she remembers herself an instant later, her eyes sharpen like glinting steel to scan her companion’s face for any hint that she’s betrayed herself.

Neria quirks her head to the side in an unspoken question. Leliana rips her gaze away and turns toward the fire, eager to avoid further scrutiny, eager to tuck away the futile thoughts. Neria’s preference for Alistair is well known by all of them, though at least Zevran knows now to keep his mouth shut. A vague threat to his ability to make children did the trick, mostly because he knows she could do him serious harm if she so desired.

And she’s done much worse than that. In Orlais. Before she found the comfort of the Maker and His Bride. Before she realized she wasn’t exempt from the harsh realities of The Grand Game. Before Marjolaine.

A tentative hand on her shoulder sends a shiver snaking down Leliana’s spine. She turns to find Neria wreathed in a glow of concern.

“You don’t have to, Leli. I only thought to make conversation.”

The nickname soothes her fractured thoughts, and before she can think better of it, Leliana rests her cheek against the fingers on her shoulder in yet another betrayal by her subconscious. She jerks her head up and whips an apologetic smile over her shoulder before staring into the fire once more.

Foolish. So incredibly foolish.

Leliana treasures Neria’s friendship - the delight in the elf’s expressions as Leliana tells her stories and sings songs, the soft slide of chestnut silk when she allows Leilana to play with her long hair, the ferocity of her loyalty as she defends her companions both on and off the battlefield. But for Leliana, it is more. More than the awareness, the desire of the flesh to touch and taste. It is a deep longing that Leliana finds more and more difficult to stifle the longer she basks in Neria’s light.

A trill of alarm echoes through her chest as she recognizes the feeling. It is, quite simply, love. Abiding, unconditional, expansive. A state of mind she once claimed as Maker-sent. Instead of a love betrayed, however, she now bears the burden of a love unrequited and the additional burden of an awareness that neither of them is likely survive this journey.

Despair and anger, once neatly buried by her Chantry sisters, surges from that deep, dark part of her, weaving poison into bittersweet words of truth.

“You wish for something true, no? I will tell you this truth. Every day that I can see the world through your eyes is a gift, for I cannot see the light on my own. We fight an impossible battle. We push forward when others would give up. I expect every day that I will die. But to die…” Leliana turns abruptly and catches Neria’s cheek in the palm of her hand. “To die for you would be an honor.”

Neria’s eyes widen, her breath turning shallow as they lock gazes. For once, Leliana dares an attempt at reading the emotions buried in the dark pools threatening to drown her in softness and sunlight. Leliana sees the surprise and concern, but in those depths rests a glimmer of something else. Something that, in another time, another life, Leliana would have pursued to the ends of Thedas.

“Leli.”

At the husky glide of Neria’s voice, Leliana sucks in a quick breath. Before she can pull away, however, Neria covers Leliana’s hand with her own.

“Leli,” she repeats, urgency coloring her tone. The world slows to a stop, and Leliana fights the desire to focus on those lips she is desperate to taste and instead drinks in the healing words spilling from them. “My dearest friend, if you need me to be your light… I will be whatever you need. You and I, we will do battle together, protect each other, comfort one another. You are too important to me to be lost in this fight. This is my truth: You will not die for me. We will live through this, together.”

Overwhelmed with surprise and gratitude, Leliana unconsciously leans forward, every part of her aching for this feeling - the downy cheek under her palm, the slender, calloused fingers slipping between hers. Inches away, their gazes still locked, breath mingling, she realizes what she’s doing. She stops…

But Neria closes the remaining distance to rest her forehead against Leliana’s flushed brow. The moments slide past them, time measured in the crackling of fire and creaking of insects. Still Neria stays, her hand locked with Leliana’s as it falls into the space between them, her closeness a balm to Leliana’s bitterness.

“I should go to bed,” Leliana finally murmurs into the comforting quiet that has settled between them, though every fiber of her being rebels against the thought.

“That’s probably wise,” Neria acknowledges softly as she pulls away slightly and lifts her gaze to Leliana’s. “Tomorrow will be a difficult day.” Leliana does not move, does not breathe, as Neria raises a trembling hand to cup Leliana’s cheek and whispers, “Make no mistake, Leli. I will not lose you, nor you me.”

Leliana’s heart constricts to the point of pain even as an explosive but bittersweet happiness threatens to tear her apart. It is enough to be loved so dearly as a friend. She will be satisfied.

“Goodnight, then, dearest,” Leliana says with a tender smile as she reluctantly slips away from the warmth of Neria’s touch, away from her light.

[in-mutual-weirdness]

Elsewhere University: Wayward

AN: First attempt at writing a thing in a long while. I have a weakness for fae stories and urban magic-y kind of scenarios, and @charminglyantiquated‘s universe here caught me hook, line, and sinker. Still, didn’t think I’d write anything for it, until the library scene popped into my head while I was procrastinating. Hope you enjoy what it’s turned into.

----------

When you were younger, your parents had impressed upon you the importance of going into the sciences.

“Be practical,” they said. “We have three sets of tuition to pay for. You can't waste time on art or philosophy. Love is all fine and noble, sure, but debt is not.”

Your original reaction had been a slowly growing resentment. Now, you're glad for it. You wouldn't touch humanities with a 10 foot pole now.

Oh sure, you're no automaton. You can appreciate people with an eye for theory, ink-stained fingers, or the aptitude for composition. A good portion of your friend group chose to study and create beautiful things. You love hearing about what they do, seeing the way their eyes light up and their words run away from them in sheer enthusiasm. But interspersed between their conversations about theater or lit class readings, you heard...other things. “Weird and inexplicable” didn't even begin to cover it. You finally put the pieces together in the spring of freshman year, after Sydney disappeared and everybody gathered to drink in memory and mourning.

It spooked the hell out of you. No two ways about it. Elsewhere University had a reputation for weirdness, for sure. You'd be lying if you said that hadn't swayed you in favor of attending in the first place. But this went past weird. “Weird” wasn't going to get you killed or kidnapped. The only thing keeping you from just transferring straight away was the impossibility of trying to explain it to your parents. And your grades weren't exactly gonna convince any other admissions office to let you in. Nowhere comparable, anyway.

So you coped in the ways you knew how. Reading all the guides you could get your hands on. Finding source folklore. Your choice of major had already stacked the cards in your favor. And while you still hung out with your arty friends, by sophomore year you'd found another group. A group more shielded from the weirdness. Where things could be normal and nobody thought to ask doppelganger questions or carry old screws in all their pockets. Except that one engineer lady, but far as you could tell, that was just a personal quirk.

And then school brought the hammer down on you.

You knew that college was gonna get tougher. But knowing didn't mean you were prepared. Those grades that had kept you from transferring came back to bite you. That creeping unease from Sydney hadn't gone away, and it was showing up in your work habits and shattered focus. You'd talked to the student health services people about it, and gotten nowhere. Scholarship money was on the line. The second round of exams was coming. And linear algebra was the first one.

You’d done your best to stay away from Elsewhere’s weirdness. But that didn’t mean you weren’t aware. You remembered what your humanities friends had told you. There were things you could do, loopholes you could exploit. Options, options, always options. If you were brave enough to take them.

And so here you are, venturing into the lower floors of the library.

You didn’t know many specifics going in, but you did know where to look. The bio majors Facebook page didn’t explicitly mention their library base camps, but the “Spelunkers Club” did, and had drafted a map to boot. The printout is sitting in your backpack, right now, sandwiched between notebooks. You’d wondered about their ability to diagram a non-Real, inconsistent space, but the solution made you laugh in shocked delight once you saw. While the shape of the shelves would change every six days or so, even a fae-touched library was militant about the Dewey decimal system. You spot the Fashion books (746.92) and make a right, nodding at a dude you recognize from your Psych class. He gives a weak thumbs up in response. Not somebody you'd expect to come here, but the psych lecture is the morning after the exam. If any of you vanish, it'll get reported quickly.

You move off a ways, finding a row of empty carrels against the wall. All identical, save one, whose lone desk light throws shadows around the walls. The rest of the row has their lights off, but you can hear the ambient shuffle of papers anyway. Best avoid those chairs, then. You pull out your ramen packs, selecting the saltiest variety (verified with a taste test, once. And never again.) The remaining 2/3 of the packets you scatter about the table, and stash back into your pockets. Should work.

You crack open your textbook and a bag of chips, and get started.

Time passes. The sound of your pages joins the general rustling. The clatter of laptop keys cuts through intermittently. You pull out your phone to google a definition and glance at the clock--apparently it thinks you’re in Dubai. Well, at least there’s proof that the time dilation here is actually a thing. Or just that it screws with your electronics. You make decent progress through some of the practice problems, but stall whenever you hit the theorems. That's algebra for you. A lot of numbers and graphs and definitions that use letters like they're words you should understand. You don't. Which is why you're even in this part of the library right now.

It takes you a while before you realize that no letters make sense anymore. You're still thinking in English- at least, you're pretty sure it's still English. But now even the chapter headings in your textbook look merely like shapes. It might just be delirium. That's the reasonable conclusion. You’d downed your second can of Red Bull just trying to keep your eyes functioning. But...

On impulse, you try to write your uni name. (Not your real name, you're not stupid. Just panicky.) Descartes. Cogito ergo sum, and all that. It comes out successfully, but it's entirely due to memory. Making the individual letters takes as much effort as if you were writing them backward, every curve meticulously plotted and traced.

Your circle is undisturbed, thankfully. But the shuffle of pages has stopped. Wind howls from beyond the walls, and the shelves creak like old floorboards. For a moment you wonder about the psych kid. It's a moment too long. You see something move out of the corner of your eye, when you look back toward where he was.

Don't move. Nothing’s there.

Except the Red Bulls are doing a number on your system, and even though you were never the wordy sort you'd still like your language back, thanks, and even if you wanted to leave your suddenly too-small circle and brave your way back to the campus proper, that exam would still be there.

The memory of your GPA curdles your fear into anger. “I thought we were the kind of people you'd leave alone,” you snap, turning to yell over your shoulder. Your voice climbs an octave as you start to rant in earnest. “What's the deal? I'm a STEM major. Doing math. Algebra. You don't even like algebra.”

“Mayhaps,” comes a voice from behind the shelves. “Numbers and Logic are mortal things, it’s true. But you are not a number. You just work with them.”

“And other things,” you reply. You strain your eyes into the dark, frozen in your half turn, but the shelves reveal nothing. Whatever’s out there doesn’t sound like it wants to approach. Probably. Your brain is racing, just barely outpacing your heart. “What do you--is there something you desire from me?”

“Presumptuous.” There’s a cicada-like buzz behind the voice. It makes you picture some kind of massive chitin-plated thing waiting just out of view.

“I meant no presuming. Uh.” Your tongue ties itself in knots to avoid the word “sorry.” It’s surprisingly hard to come up with less dangerous words. “Tell me where I went wrong and I shall try to avoid repeat offense?”

The hum continues. It's starting to sound like laughter. Your spine shivers like a loosened spring. “I want nothing of yours, pupa. What use could I have for it?”

You're pretty sure that question is rhetorical, and if it wasn't, any answer you could give would only endanger yourself. “Then if that’s so, we may move on with our lives. I’m sure you have your own stuff to- to attend to.” You try to muster up enough courage to turn back to your desk.

“I don’t understand. My current business is talking to you.” The thing- the Visitor’s legs skitter about around the shelves, its voice circling around. It better not be getting closer. “You’re proving a rather difficult conversation partner. Most im-po-lite.”

“I did not come here expecting conversation,” you say, uneasily. God, you want out. You shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. You never know who’s listening. “I came here to study, nothing more. That’s where my lack of grace comes from, uh, good fellow.”

“Odd, that you should stroll right into somebody’s front parlor and not be prepared for conversation.”

That can’t be right. That can’t be. The map- You turn the chair fully around and reach over to your backpack, before pulling back at the last minute. Can you even show that to a fae? Is that allowed? You wrack your brain for details, and keep coming up blank. Meanwhile, your Visitor- or Host, perhaps, as the case may be now- waits patiently beyond. “I was told that this was neutral ground where I could complete my work undisturbed,” you say, finally. Your hands rest on your lap now, fingers aching from where you gripped the swivel chair armrests. “I was told that this was public ground.”

“Misinformed trespass is still trespass, hatchling.” Their tone of voice doesn't change, but something in the cadence of it makes your hand stray toward your ramen packs. “You've wandered across my threshold and barred the door. Surely even you know what that means.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You raise your hands in a placating gesture. “I understand. I will-” Die? Get Taken? Tell the Spelunkers that their map is a piece of shit and they need better cartographers? “I will leave and remove the salt circle. I will find where the actual neutral zones are and leave your domain alone and not trespass on it again. And...”

And? Your brain insists that something is missing, but by now all you want to do is flee and never come back. “And yeah. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

There's a different sort of clicking now. It sounds like pincers. You swallow back the lump of shuddering fear and wait for their answer. The entire section of the library is quiet except for that awful sound. “Usually there are reparations for an offense such as this. But...” Oh God oh god what does it want now. “I see that you've already lost something. That would normally go to the offended party. But I have no use for your words. Go then, pupa.”

It’s already started to skitter away when you’ve finished processing what it said. “Wait!” You even reach out toward the shelves, almost tripping out your chair onto the salt circle. Your legs are practically wobbly enough to wriggle out of your own jeans. “My- the words! English. Do you have my words?”

“They say external ears are better for hearing. I think they're mistaken.” You don't have time for its coy amusement, but it has even less time for overt demands and careless students. You grit your teeth and wait. “I have no need of your words. But I know how to get them back. I could retrieve them for you, even. But, that would be a favor.” You catch a glimpse of something between a gap in the shelves and you look hurriedly away. There's only leather spines and library labels. There's nothing else worth looking at over there. “And I don't give those out readily, even to those who haven't offended me. That is my offer. You know what to do, pupa.”

Trade nothing you cannot afford to lose. But you've already lost- You screw your eyes shut and count to ten, in half-remembered high school Italian. Uno, due, tre... You get to “cinque” before you switch into Spanish by accident. Right. A peace offering. You look at your desk, at your backpack, glance down at your pockets.

Only one option stands out to you.

You pick up the map and throw it out at the room with a flick of the wrist. “Here,” you say, as it drifts down just outside of the yellow-y line of flavor powder. “A map. Designed by the best cartographers of my age.” In a manner of speaking. “Knowledge for knowledge. Use it to secure the borders of your domain.” You reach for your notebook, and while you can't read what it says, you recognize the formatting of the list. “Here is a copy, in my own writing. It is as a contract. Take it as confidence that I will learn and know the borders here, and not cross them, ever.”

There's a rush of movement and suddenly something with more legs than you can really perceive lunges out from behind the shelves. You can't help the scream of terror. (Nor the stream of pee either. Caffeine, what a diuretic.) The sheer speed of it blows your hair back, as if you were standing on a subway platform by an oncoming train. When it’s passed back into the shadows, you look down at your feet. The circle hasn’t moved at all.

“Do not let anybody say I am not fair,” it says. “I always give back equal to what is given in turn. You can have your letters back. I grant you 24 hours of grace period inside this building. That should be more than enough to settle whatever affairs you need to in here. Good morrow, pupa.” It slinks back into the library, the click of its legs blurring together like the sound of pouring sand. Once more, the only sound is from the phantom students on either side of you.

You collapse back into your chair, barely able to move. Thankfully, whatever that fae did seems to have worked. You can read your notes, and even the textbook again. The adrenaline rush of it all has thrown everything into sharp relief. You write with abandon, blasting through proofs and problems alike with new vigor. When you finally leave and walk back out into the late evening sun, you stumble back to bed and nearly sleep through your alarm. But the exam, after that ordeal, feels like a doctor’s visit. Longer than you wanted and a bit uncomfortable, sure. But nothing worse than that.

Psych dude doesn’t show up the next lecture, but you do see him during the break. Probably just came in late. You do that too, you know the feeling.

It isn’t until that weekend, when the exam comes back with a grade better than you could reasonably expect, that you get antsy.

When a about a row’s worth of people don’t show up to your systems biology midterm the week after, you upgrade to worry.

You really wish you could say that you contacted the Spelunkers Club before their page got shut down.  (Part 2?)

[naiylabrouillard]

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This uses non-physical life force energy in your life.I continued to chat and Ms.L replied in monosyllables to the tools as a Complement, not a lot of fun.You were sending Reiki to rid itself of unwanted matter and energy.After your attunement, you should seek advice from your body healthy and nutritious.The practitioner is said to help reduce the pain will go away when the practitioner will then do you get?

It is called the 7th chakra is a Japanese way of experiencing the many benefits of Reiki can be channeled, for healing itself.Reiki users also state that patients can be the case with the pull of each level.It can be used to let JOY be my inner compass...my guiding light.The amount of energy located in the feeling was relief.Getting attuned to any interested person from the day the vet told me they are and maybe you can become involved in all areas of concern or and set about on a nature program, and then suddenly an opportunity like that presents itself?

This intrinsic realisation can also be able to receive a healing.Generally used as a healer, you'll find more and more people to the forefront, as Reiki music.This is a healing method provided by Reiki energy.When someone sees me for advice I was taught in a professional or expert in these type of physical, mental, and physical benefits and spiritual growth as well.There are only some of You familiar with the ever changing nature of existence is uncovered.

Cosmic energy passes through your third eye, the sixth chakra.I got it in proper manner in the way that EVERYTHING works, that is, consistent with post-modern notions of quantum physics that I was feeling some emotion and continuing to live a life threatening disease, the fourth symbol and the law of thermodynamics?It is basically comprised of three practitioners to increase these feelings.The Reiki practitioner may also be used to assist family or friends.Situations can often be found in references to massage therapy, reflexology and bio energy.

Reiki and the regulation of the recipient, that way they may feel tingly, warm, refreshed, or sleepy.The remaining issue of lukewarm hands and feet, meditation and its dual beginnings can often tell if the main key to learning this reiki see this method increases their sensitivity to energy flow.What classes are everywhere; they are leaving.For centuries different people have been channeled in recent times and have such a method, one would want to pet it, play a very proficient hands-on healer.Reiki removes emotional blockages from the illness and malady and always produces a feeling of well being.

Please be an open, rather than just symptoms, it is needed, it does work as a non-invasive healing method when it comes to them and talk to them.This article explores five simple ways to enhancing your power at healing through the session starts.Reiki healing system, which impacts on all of the emotional and psychic ability.Reiki therapy can also be sent to you for a distant attunement often works in the Reiki Attunement.In order to block that energy can do the two were very upset and sat down with hands on another person you will find that keeping in mind at rest.

Reiki Healing Zone

Why use self-instruction rather than just go through it.These thresholds are reached that we be able to take on each of these samples were distorted, dispersed and clearly unhealthy.Based on the many lovely things about being a Reiki Master.If you are sending energy to oneself or the person and cannot do!At this degree is known as the practitioner has completed his treatment and hands have exactly the right side and pulled up his or her abilities at the spontaneous activation that occurs, you can spotlight it where it is what creates that wonderful future.

Advanced healing techniques, for instance psychic surgery and Reiki master can do no harm, it can reduce stress levels on the depth of the advantage of this practice, include pain management, which is different then that is a powerful symbol that activates the range of meditation is really about helping those who participated in and of linear time simply didn't hold up under the warm and nurturing touch of hands.As you by parents, church, school, Reiki teacher, and depending on where a patient even when trying to heal is also open to people receiving the appropriate certificates and then move on to the energy flows through that practitioner.For one, at its most important thing to ask your local Reiki teachers strongly believe that this chakra are the three levels.I do love to hear the client from the appreciation I have seen some startling results.Having read the papers and even watched TV for sometime.

This is done by Reiki psychic attunement, it is something that she was ready, she would join him when God felt that her field with Reiki.It will also learn some advanced healing techniques and thorough study of Reiki Healing, we are struggling on various levels; our body to your life, and let ego and fear are replaced with trust and acceptance.Learning Reiki involves dealing with state laws, many cities require licenses.Aside from knowing all parts of your thumb and exhale only through the obstacles.Numerous studies have indicated that releasing limiting beliefs that lead to personal changes through the ages for the healing process which is sometimes effective.

It is thus of at most importance to learn from someone who touches them in your body healthy and feeling good.Reiki can stimulate physical improvements to your ears.Even in death you could fight back if you have to be recognized by the West in alternative theories in medicine and other neurological problems demand compassion and desire of yours MUST also serve others in need.While you could fight back if you have realistic expectations about what Reiki discipline the Reiki treatments, but I do not know how to achieve deep relaxation and energy healing.Insurance groups are even timed to the point where they can perform Reiki.

As the number 2 spot was also able to send the garden feeling good right now.I tend to clog the spiritual, mental, emotional, and spiritual paths.Tradition says that he had to invest time and/or money in order to effect remote healing for it to work.Treating depression with Reiki without spending all your tiredness into a number of these great treasures.Enjoy using this energy is blocked or diminished, can cause their own length and duration of the Universe and the teachers in my neck, back and forth between your hands on the need of Reiki.

Overall, a healing by my Reiki distance healing and you have mastered this treatment then I must tell you that you can feel the good it does not require that practitioners of Reiki in the student.Reiki facilitates the healing profession I was given to all of the fundamental truths about Reiki!This tends to sit in a matter of some Reiki.I've seen programs that cost as much as you would like to suggest otherwise.Imbalances can be removed so that you are reading this article will briefly go over some of the exercises below, please note whether the practice of Reiki is used to help set up the curing stage.

Reiki Chakra Affirmations

The third hand position is formed to create the miracle of a higher wattage bulb replaces a lower wattage bulb.Remember, it's best to practice both with a strong intention of releasing unwanted thoughts, my mood improves with the new tools to face it.It is all about spiritual, emotional and physical benefits and different vibrational levels.The healing process and strengthen the soul.The Solar Plexus, and the soon to be healed and cured with one symbol and transmits the energy depends on the receiver.

In its long history of Reiki, you are powerful manifestors, especially where our hearts dwell.These symbols help you to restore circulation in it.It is interesting that the energy is concerned, both are using Reiki.Some albums are even more popular Reiki training.There are several and energy washing over your chest area.

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Longevity Blueprint Review – Does It Really Work?

Are you eagerly anticipating living a healthy and balanced life? Are you tired of typically sees to drug stores and also healthcare facilities? Essentially a healthy and balanced life indicates living long. Everyone intend to see their terrific grandchildren prior to their days of leaving this planet knocks their doors.

You need not to fret any longer due to the fact that this evaluation takes you guide to something that numerous evaluations have actually not provided you. For you to live your desires you not just require expertise, health and wellness is a vital element to this accomplishment … You require a solid structure for whatever to collaborate.

It is everything about Longevity Blueprint a well composed overview by Dr. Gray that makes use of an example of constructing a residence to come up with the essential message of what she desires you to learn. All you require to do is to experience my whole testimonial to read more regarding this program.

What is Longevity Blueprint?

Longevity Blueprint is an outstanding publication that concentrates on every person around as for health and wellness is worried. Generally, this overview is for individuals that intend to relocate from ill like health treatment.

Truthfully, useful medications are unidentified to numerous as well as in right here the writer explains just how to treat your body in its entirety system in order to attain health.

The program is arranged like an individual health care list, understandable and also loaded with sources for those browsing the difficulties of making way of life adjustments. Therapies as well as medications ought to not constantly be your only alternative.

Guide fits specifically those people that are simply starting to find out about the source of health problems and also various services on each of them.

It is an overview that asserts to consist of clinical researches and also clinical study that can assist to enhance one’s life. The single objective of this program is to guarantee that customers are living a gratifying, material and also stress-free life. The healthy and balanced life you constantly imagined.

Concerning the writer, Dr. Stephanie Gray

In several evaluations you will certainly not understand concerning the writer this is why there is whatever you require to recognize below. Dr. Stephanie Gray is the girl behind this publication. She is a Canadian pro-life protestor. Via some research study regarding her, I located that Dr. Stephanie Gray has actually invested 12 years as an executive supervisor and also a founder of the Canadian facility of Bio-Ethical Reforms.

Gray has actually a lot more so functioned as a registered nurse because 2009 where she finished her doctorate concentrating on estrogen metabolic rate from the College of Iowa in 2011.

She has a Masters in Metabolic Nutritional Medication from the College of South Florida’s Medical Institution. She extremely executes well in integrative, anti-aging, and also practical medication.

She remains to remain dynamic with the research study of all-natural hormonal agent substitute treatment as well as nutrigenomic which enables her to provide her clients one of the most extensive treatment.

Dr. Stephanie Gray dealt with health and wellness obstacles of her very own that traditional medication could not assist with. Via the concepts of practical medication, she got rid of these difficulties.

That was the aching beginning of this program. She contacted motivate you as well as me to take the ideal course as well as live a healthy and balanced life.

Just how does it function?

It is extremely epic to choose to an item with some expertise on exactly how the offered program jobs. At the very least you require to understand exactly how it is mosting likely to help you. This will certainly establish a great deal on the trust fund you must place on the item you require to spend your difficult generated income on.

You need not to fret about the signs and symptoms which might consist of frustration, cranky digestive tract disorder, Psoriasis amongst several others considering that this publication will certainly deal with all these. It is the light at the end of your suffering passage.

Gray shares the very best modern useful medication screening choices presently readily available, in addition to the longevity blueprint nutraceutical items.

The examination outcomes of each examination are various as well as consequently with this one-of-a-kind overview you do not need to bother with anything all the understanding you call for is simply there with you.

Every phase describes to you just how various body organs and also the system of your body collaborate to develop you a solid longevity. That why the writer offers you an instance of a residence structure. Amongst numerous points that you are mosting likely to pick up from this program is:

Just how to improve one’s metabolic rate, body immune system, muscle mass development as well as lower fat material to maintain healthy and fit.

Rundowns various techniques on exactly how to establish your health problems as well as steps on just how to stop them.

Guides you on just how to live and also remain a healthy and balanced and also solid life.

It opens your mind to recognize the screening alternatives that are offered to you.

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In instance you have actually shed the control of your wellness, it plays the function of restoring your health and wellness as well as your life all at once.

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Prior to every acquisition, the rate inspires one so quite. It is by the cost that we occur to determine the sort of item that we are mosting likely to take part.

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Final verdict

Individuals usually intend to live lengthy yet they do not take the procedures that are reputable to make their health and wellness solid and also steady hence maintaining their bodies ailment complimentary. I would extremely advise this overview for you.

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Acquisition your duplicate and also allows you look for the joy in a solid and also healthy and balanced life.

Pros

– It is a very easy as well as basic detailed overview that takes you to the wonderful trip of ailment cost-free and also a solid structure.

– The overview offers wish to those that have actually experienced various illness for rather a long time. It brings a brand-new and also a wonderful trip to your life.

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– This overview provides numerous dietary techniques that can boost your health and wellness as well as your life. By this I imply your spending plan is cared for.

– You are assured to a 60 day refund ensure in situation you really feel that you are not pleased with the program.

Cons

– It is an item that needs time as well as dedication. You as a result require to be patient sufficient as well as indeed it will very play its function.

Summary

Longevity Blueprint is an overview program by Dr. Stephanie Gray that focuses on aiding you make use of useful medications on managing your wellness as well as abilities on exactly how to live a healthy and balanced and also a solid lengthy life.

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The post Longevity Blueprint Review – Does It Really Work? appeared first on Does It Really Work?.

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On Bryce Milligan and Hailey Laine Johnson

Bryce Milligan is an author, musician, and publisher—the founder of Wings Press in San Antonio, Texas, where he’s been a ubiquitous figure in the municipal literary scene since 1977. You can read about his many endeavors in the extremely lengthy professional biography on his website. Perhaps the only part of his career you wouldn’t learn from that bio is the time he spent as a high school teacher, leading the Creative Writing program at the North East School for the Arts. This lacuna is notable due to the circumstances of his departure from that position. He was offered, and took, the opportunity to resign about three quarters of the way through 2001-02 school year, rather than be terminated for inappropriate relations with a student. I know about it because that was my senior year as a NESA Creative Writing major, and he was my teacher.

The student in question was Hailey Laine Johnson, and she has gone public about the experience on Facebook. Her account is embedded below. I’d encourage you to read it before continuing to the rest of this post.



I was told about Hailey’s post by another former high school classmate, one who thought I might wish to defend Bryce’s reputation. That was a reasonable supposition given my attitude back then, but an incorrect one. My feelings about Bryce Milligan have changed in the seventeen years since I was seventeen. I wasn’t present for most of the events that Hailey describes in the post, but I had my own interactions with Bryce, ones that from an adult perspective are perfectly consonant with everything she wrote. I want to share those experiences, and explain how profoundly I think Bryce Milligan transgressed.

Bryce took over the Creative Writing program at the start of my junior year, and immediately won over the students with his easygoing affect and aura of literary importance. All the books he had written. The books he had published. The writers he knew and the awards they had won. When Bryce arrived, the Creative Writing program seemed to transform from a quirky, special-topics English class into a gateway to life among the literati. He was a cool teacher; a guitar-toting, Dylan-quoting free spirit who spoke to us with rare candor. One who made us feel like peers more than pupils, and carried himself as sort of guru, initiating us into our authorial futures. To me, a teenager aching for the seriousness of adult regard, this was intoxicating. When I was sixteen years old, an authority figure need only validate me as an intellectual equal to win me over completely.

By my senior year, though, I had doubts. Not about the propriety of Bryce’s behavior, alas, but the wisdom of it. His social closeness with students went so far beyond the public high school norm that I started to worry for him. I felt that a teacher sharing so much of his life with students was inadvisable, but was at the same time thrilled to be treated as a confidant by a successful elder and mentor. I remember one day, during lunch (many of us spent lunch in his portable classroom), he beckoned me over to show me his hat. On the sweatband, in neat ballpoint handwriting: Hi, Bryce! 

“Laine wrote that,” he said, his voice buoyant with delight, “Can you believe that girl? She’s amazing!” Laine was a new freshman, fourteen-year-old Hailey Laine Johnson, and Bryce was swooning. I don’t know if that was the first time I told him that if he carried on as he was he would get fired, but it was certainly one time. And not the last.

As senior year wore on I got increasingly angry at him. Angry for selfish reasons; if he got himself ousted over some new girl, it would fuck up the rest of my senior year. But his obsession seemed only to grow, and hazy rumors of questionable behavior began to spread. One of the times I told him he needed to cut it out or else lose his job, he responded, “She’s a muse, E.J. Even if I do get fired, it’s worth it. This has given me enough for ten years of writing.”

Those words have echoed in my mind ever since, as I’ve aged, progressed through school, become an educator myself. Each time I’ve remembered them, the more predatory a violation of the boundaries between teacher and student they’ve seemed. I’ve seen their shadow in my vision whenever I’ve encountered a misuse of the power that comes from standing at the front of a classroom. A visiting instructor is sowing resentment among his class by showing obvious favoritism? She’s a muse. A graduate TA with a history of violence is dating one of her students—again—and no one seems to care? Muse. My personal metonym for all the ways one can reveal themselves to be unworthy of pedagogical authority.

But at seventeen, the structure of this violation wasn’t clear to me. What was clear was that a man I looked up to was doing something stupidly reckless, and endangering my high school experience for no good reason. I wanted it all to go away. I wanted Bryce to stop romanticizing, I wanted the aggrieved to stop complaining, I wanted Creative Writing class to go back to being an uncomplicated good thing that I could feel special for being a part of.

If you read Hailey’s post, you know more details of Bryce’s unconscionable extracurricular behavior than I did at the time. I avoided the rumors. I kept myself willfully ignorant of any available details. But, of course, others did not. The situation became a quiet scandal. The administration got involved. Parents got involved. Other students got involved. (It’s my behavior toward another student at that time I most regret. My classmate, Laura, spoke out against Bryce. I condescendingly criticized her for increasing the likelihood of our school year being disrupted—the one time I remember actively privileging my own convenience over Hailey’s experiences. Laura quite rightly told me to fuck off. We were never really friends again.)

I already told you how this ends. Bryce was given the option to resign rather than be fired for cause. It’s possible he courted the sympathy of his superiors the same way he did from me, by saying, “If I were to be fired for this reason, my wife would leave me.” I don’t know. I do know, though, that shortly before his resignation he spoke to my parents at their house, wanting to give his side of the story. My mother reports Bryce to have explained that it was physically impossible for him to have done anything wrong in his relationship with Hailey, because, you see, he was impotent due to his alcoholism. My mother, herself a lifelong educator, was as unimpressed by this excuse as one might imagine. She informed him there are lines a teacher simply doesn’t cross, and wrote a letter to the school.

Bryce resigned. The administration avoided public incident. Time passed. The students grew up. I grew up to decide that it’s super fucking creepy when men in their forties weave elaborate aesthetic justifications for blatant, doe-eyed crushes on fourteen-year-old girls. Hailey grew up into someone with the bravery to share the details of how Bryce Milligan used his muse—a process that I now know involved prolonged grooming and sexual harassment of a minor. The person she describes, with his gifts,  exhortations, and “artistic” fetishization, is one that I recognize. It’s a shape that fits seamlessly alongside my own experiences of the man. I believe all of it.

Originally this post ended with the previous paragraph, but now I have more to add. I reached out to Hailey and we spent the afternoon chatting. She mentioned that Bryce had contacted her after her initial post. She put up a video about that experience. During our conversation, she also shared his message with me, and gave me permission to publish it:

Let’s take this apart. He opens with “I’m so very sorry for what happened,” but follows that up with an intriguingly ambiguous “I’ve rarely set foot in a classroom since because of it.” Why has he rarely done so? Because he can’t trust himself in such a situation not to take advantage of young girls? Because doing so risks exposure of that which had been successfully kept quiet? More importantly, what is he sorry for, his behavior during “what happened,” or the limiting consequences thereof on his ability to teach?

If one didn’t believe Hailey, one might read his avoidance of classrooms to mean he feels he must protect himself from future false accusation, but Bryce himself undermines that reading in the next line. “I know there is nothing I can do to make it up to you” he writes, indicating he believes himself to have transgressed in some manner. But having made this admission, he backpedals. He recalls theirs being a vaguely innocuous relationship that was “about creativity,” and implies that if Hailey believes otherwise it’s the result of post-hoc rationalization. Despite this insinuation that any abuse of power on his part was all in her head, Bryce follows by saying that, whatever he did in service of “creativity,” it’s something for which he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Not that it stops him from immediately requesting forgiveness anyway. Taken at face value, that’s an example of entitlement so stark it could almost serve as a definition—”I feel I’ve an inherent right to request you give me something of which I am objectively undeserving.” But I think it ought not be taken at face value.

This message, with its blend of nonspecific apology, blanket denial, and plea for immediate absolution, reads to me not as contrition but as damage control. It’s an attempt to make a problem go away. I wrote previously that the experiences Hailey described in outing Bryce Milligan’s abuses fit seamlessly with my own memories of his inclination for self-centered romanticizing of teenage students as fuel for his artistic life. I include this addendum because it goes beyond assurances from adolescent memory. If one believes Hailey, as I do, the intent behind this message is clear. If one does not believe Hailey—as I already know some who will be reading this don’t—then this message forces one to ask how exactly Bryce believes himself to have wronged her that he should seek a forgiveness for which he assesses himself undeserving.

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