#I should really look up how to make vine comps

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 || Next

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Until a trip to Gotham came knocking on the front doors

“I can’t believe Lie-la of all people managed to somehow get us the trip to Gotham!” Mari moaned with a mixed expression on her face.

Adrien, who was walking next to them, showed absolute disgust. “Technically, It was my father and I that did the heavy lifting. She really wanted to go to the Wayne Gala and…”

“What Lie-la wants, Lie-la gets.” The three finished in unison before laughing a bit. 

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I can promise you that this no good liar won’t get to ruin your return home.” Chloe pulled her best friend closer. Best friend. Much better than a servant. Who would’ve thought? “And we can even try to find your mom on free Saturday.”

“Yeah…” The girl with black-blue hair didn’t seem particularly cheerful at that. 

“Now I refuse to have you making sad faces throughout the whole flight. You cheer up right this moment and that’s an order!” The blonde commanded. 

“Yes, Maman-bear.” Mari giggled.

The three of them finally arrived at the rest of the class, who were already gathered around madame Bustier. Of course, Lila was bragging about a million different things, but the three paid her no mind. Adrien did his best to hide behind the girls, cherishing the last moments of freedom. Finally, Mari and Chloe had to step forward for their tickets. The blonde got hers without any problem, but for Mari there turned out to be none.

“I’m so so sorry Marinette!” Lila said with fake regret. “I must have accidentally miscounted the number of students… It must’ve been when I was helping those poor orphans. You know, at…”

“Sure…” Mari didn’t even try to act as if she believed her for a moment. When Lila scowled, realizing that it didn’t affect the girl, she smiled. “I guess Chlo, Adrien and I will have to go with the contingency plan number 1.” 

“What?!” The sausage-hair shouted.

“Of course my Daddy would not send us to travel like peasants. We have tickets for the first class.” Chloe supplied, looking smugly. “We did plan to maybe sit with the rest of the class. What a shame…”

“Yeah, My dad also didn’t want me to travel anything less, but I convinced him to let me stay with my friends. Guess he will get what he wanted in the end.” For his part, Adrien at least tried to look apologetic. He didn’t try hard at all, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“But… But…” Lila tried to come up with something, likely a lie, to counter it. She didn’t have time as the trio handed their teacher the filled forms from their parents/guardians/Nathalie and proceeded to the plane. The tickets were personal, so she couldn’t do anything. The Italian girl came up with a lie to tell to the class, but it would do no good until they landed. 

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“Did you see her face?” Plagg was rolling in the air while holding a giant roll of camembert. 

“You were amazing my queen.” Pollen complimented. 

“I still can’t believe your dad just… bought out the whole first class!” Marinette sighed. 

“Phi! Daddy always gives me only the best. You should know it by now, Mari-bear.”

“Okay. Mari. You are the Gotham expert here. Any advice?” Adrien asked a bit more seriously. 

“Gotham survival guide is probably unlike any other city.” She started. “The first rule is, believe it or not, run away if a person laughs too much or smiles too widely. The downside of living in the same city as the Joker is that most people don’t laugh in public. Secondly, never show that you are lost. Wherever you are, it’s exactly where you wanted to be. Finally, the third is to never flaunt your wealth.” She looked critically at Chloe before taking away her purse and lipstick in a golden case. “This,” She then pulled a mobile phone in a ridiculously sparkly case and popped it out of the cover, “this,” finally, she detached the golden chain on which the purse was supposed to be suspended and replaced it with a pre-prepared white one with copper clips, “and this must all go away.” 

“Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! Now it will totally clash with my comb!” Chloe complained.

“Oh no! How will you ever survive that?” Mari deadpanned. All three of them had another burst of laughter. After they calmed, Adrien started.

“Do you think it’s wrong that I want to bet which rule will Lila break first?”

“Ten macaroons she will say out-loud about money.” Mari threw. 

“I raise, four tea parties she will start by asking for direction.” Chloe had a grin on her face

“Are you sure?” Adrien asked. When the blonde nodded, he shrugged. “Movie night and double popcorn bowl refill that she will do both in one conversation.”

“Hi, could you be so kind to point me to my exclusive hotel? You know, I’m staying at the penthouse of this luxurious new one.” Mari gave a quite good parody of Lilia. 

“So to sum up, the pool is now ten Macaroons, Four Tea parties, and movie night with triple popcorn?” Chloe asked. When they nodded, she quickly noted it on her phone. 

“Now, who wants a movie? I think they have the newest Thomas Astruck one.” Adrien pulled a disc from the container next to his seat.

“Good for me!/Go!” The girls said. Chloe, who was in the middle loaded it and the other two leaned onto her to watch together. The three were happy. Faintly in the background, there was knocking on the doors to their part, but nobody paid attention to very angry Liela and some classmates. For some reason, the doors were stuck and the blinder rolled down. Later if someone asked, Pollen would deny everything. 

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When the plane landed, the class was practically kicked out. The team walked calmly down the stairs, all of them having smug expressions. Lila wanted to comment, but a glare from Mme. Bustier shut her up quickly. Mari and co. would later try to guess, what got the crew so pissed at their classmates.

Once everyone was accounted for, the class made its way to the customs to retrieve their luggage. There was a small problem with Mari’s travel bag as it was apparently misplaced to the flight to Timbuktu, but luckily her true suitcase, which had her things inside, arrived safely. She giggled at the thought of custom office in Timbuktu receiving a bag full of Adrien’s old socks that smelled camembert. 

Overall, the airport went mostly unproblematic. At least until they found themselves cleared and gathered in one place while Mme Bustier left to check on their bus. One of the men, wearing a dark blue suit started to laugh almost maniacally. Everybody immediately cleared away from him, out of sheer self-preservation. Lila must’ve decided that a show of kindness was a good way to regain class’ good grace. She was confidently approaching the man before suddenly Mari grabbed her and pulled her away. The designer might’ve despised the liar, but Joker… you don’t mess with Joker. 

Of course, Lila used the chance. She faked falling on the ground and started crying crocodile tears. “Marinette?! How can you be so heartless? I wanted *sniff* to check on the man and you trip me?” Lila sniffled, eyes watering with crocodile tears.

“I might have saved your life genius!” Mari snapped. Joker was a really touchy subject with her. “Does the world Killer Clown mean something?”

“Don’t invent things, you bully!” Alya shouted. That seemed to break the dam and at once the class started to say awful things to Mari. A year ago, it would hurt her. Half a year ago, she would be sad. Now? Now she pitied them. Chloe didn’t, and she was ready to jump to protect her best friend. 

“Ridiculous! Do you like… share a single brain cell? What if that man was…” she didn’t get to finish because Mme. Bustier returned. The commotion immediately calmed. By now the man stopped laughing and returned to talking with his friends.

“The bus is waiting. Come on children. Follow me.”

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Arriving at the hotel, the class was split into different rooms. Of course, Lila tried to lie her way into some privilege, but Mari was too dead inside to care. The Jet Lag was killing her. At least she got some sleep on the plane. From the rumors she heard from the class, they didn’t because of Lila’s drama with the staff. 

“Now I want you all to be ready here at eight a.m. sharp. A Wayne Enterprises representative will come here to explain the details of internships.” Mme. Bustier instructed them. This, for some reason, caused outrage in students.

“What do you mean internships?!”

“Wayne Enterprises?”

“Shouldn’t we be preparing to go to Gotham Academy or something?”

The terrible trio in the back had trouble holding back laugher. Adrien warned the girls about what his father planned, so they could all prepare. Gabriel Agreste, devious as he is, decided to punish Lila and teach Adrien something about running a company at the same time and using his connections to put the class up for an internship at WE. He did send the liar all the details, but she must have skimmed over the corporate jargon because the class was fed overexaggerated stories about what they would and wouldn’t do during two months trip. 

Most parents were more than happy to send their children away from Paris for two months, especially since the Internship was free and the employment rate after it was quite high. WE kept quite a lot of the interns, if only out of habit. But perhaps it was mostly because the class has become a go-to place for the Akuma. Only Mr. Pidgeon and perhaps Gigantitan were akumatized more often. Mari actually picked up to cleansing their class weekly through a ritual she learned, otherwise there would be enough residual dark energy to power a demon portal. Not something one would want in the middle of a classroom.

“I was told you’ve all read the brochure provided and Lila summarised it for you.”

“I did!” The sausage hair defended. “Marinette must have told them some imaginary story about the trip!”

Immediately, several other people started to nod and confirm this. Chloe actually started to walk toward the liar almost red, but Mari grabbed the back of her blazer and held her in place. All the while she had a completely deadpan expression like it was normal for her (it was).

Mme. Bustier sighed. “Well, In that case, I will…”

“Excuse me, but shouldn’t we be going to sleep today already? We don’t want to be late tomorrow.” Adrien asked with an innocent expression, but there was some satisfaction hidden there too.

“Well… um… I…”

“We will be going then.” Chloe grabbed the key and led Mari to their room. Calline didn’t even question it. She wanted a pay raise after this. 

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The next morning, Mari was woken by a frantic Chloe

“Mari-bear! It’s already late! You don’t want to be late for your first day of Internship girl! It would be utterly Ridiculous!” 

At first, the girl mumbled something, but once she finally processed everything she leaped out of her bed and started getting ready in record time. She was brushing her teeth, packing her purse, and tossing clothes at her best friend all at once. Once she had everything, she turned to see Chloe on the ground tied with a gray blazer. Mari just burst out laughing.

“How…”

“Ridiculous!” Chloe shook her head. “I demand you untie me this instant! We don’t have time for this!”

Once they dressed and did their hair, both girls were ready. Chloe now had a black button-down shirt, deep red blazer, and a matching pencil skirt. Mari also made her wear smart black stilettos (instead of her usual that were slightly more extravagant). The look was completed by a tablet in leather flip-over cover. Mari had a similar outfit, except her shirt was white and the suit was in dark blue. She opted for flat shoes to spare the embarrassment that was Marigold on heels.

“Ready to rock Gotham City?”

“Like you have to ask.” Mari smiled. There was something about the city of crime that made her feel safe and open up more. Maybe being on home turf gave her the much-needed confidence boost. 

When Chloe tried to open the doors, she found them stuck. She was about to go on a rant about poor quality when Mari casually grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. There was a faint creaking sound as the mechanism gave.

“Um…”

“It must’ve been old,” Chloe said with a devious grin. “Nothing happened. Don’t you worry! I will deal with it.”

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When the doors to the elevator opened and two girls strode into the lobby, their class was already pushing toward the exit. Adrien looked very much uncomfortable with Lila hanging off his arm, literally sinking her claws into him. He mouthed them a muted ‘later’. Alya stared at the girls with loathing. 

“Ah, you are here.” Mme. Bustier spoke. “Lila said…”

“Whatever.” Chloe dismissed their teacher. “Aren’t we in rush?” The blonde practically seethed the last word. 

“Yes, good to see that someone is responsible.” The teacher gave Mari a pointed look. Apparently, she still didn’t get over the fact that she resigned from the class rep position. 

“But…”

“Drop it. She is not worth it.” Chloe whispered. “Daddy will take care of that once we are done.”

Mari just nodded. She knew Chloe was preparing a lawsuit against the school, but their hands were tied until they graduated or Damocles could try and undermine it. Both girls knew that no adult would help them with the lawsuit beyond Chloe’s father signing whatever dotted line she asked him to. That man was more whipped than a fresh can of whipped cream. 

The ride to the WE was short and uneventful. Girls took up to gossiping in English, effectively limiting any eavesdropping. Mari spent most of the time tearing down the outfits of all the villains. She started with Riddler, more as a joke than actual rant, but then she somehow got onto this new guy Anarky. From there, she just kept on, smoothly sailing from one to the next. Even her mom got some shots. Mari still couldn’t stand how skimpy it was. Her rant carried over when they exited the bus and entered the WE. Security led them to a conference room, where they were told to take seats. 

Mari guessed that it wouldn’t be Lila if she didn’t immediately start sputtering lies about how well she knew the building already because of her Damiboo giving her private tours (All while clutching Adrien like a leech). She didn’t have enough ducks left to give to try to expose Lila about several facts. Such as that Damian Wayne definitely wasn’t living with Bruce when he was five. Any Gothamite could tell her that. Bored, she returned to her rant. 

She was nearing the end of the list and was very much engaged in complimenting Harley Queen for her recent change in wardrobe. She still considered it a disaster, but at least it was somehow human. 

“Ekhm…” A voice broke her out of the rant. “Good morning. My name is Richard Grayson. You are the french class chosen for the internship program, correct?” When people nodded, he continued. Idly, Mari noted that Alya and Lila stiffened and suddenly stopped talking at all. “We reviewed the individual profiles and appointed each of you a mentor that will help you settle into your roles. As I read the names, please come forward so I can update your badges. Do carry them on your person all the time or we will have to take you to our human cloning facility.”

People stared at him. 

“Okaaay… That’s that about jokes…” He sighed. “The rules will be explained by individual departments. Now, who’s up for a tour?” 

People started to cheer at that and Dick smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad?

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It was that bad. Even worse. He knew from the background check that the class was both insanely talented… and borderline criminal. It was like someone de-aged the Rogues and put them in one class. The report called them Akuma class, which (if google is to be believed) meant demons. He questioned how they got accepted into the internship. 

They only toured two floors when Dick wanted to tear half of them to shreds. He noted immediately that they were bullying the girl with black (slightly blue? Maybe it was dyed?) hair. What surprised him was that the teacher didn’t react. If he was to be honest, the girl and her friend slightly irritated him too. They kept talking and seemed to ignore him. It was not because they kept tearing down each and every bats’ fashion choices. Definitely not that. When they brought up Discowing he had enough. 

“Ekhm. Excuse me, girls,” he stared at them. Both immediately stopped talking and looked at him. “Could you pay attention? I wouldn’t want any of you to waste your internship lost on our maze-testing floor.”

“There is no maze-testing floor in this building.” The blonde pointed out.

“And besides, we memorized all you’ve said.”

“Care to recall?” He heard several people groan at his pun.

“The first floor is most representative, where guests are welcome and low-level meetings happen. There is a separate kitchen for employers there that is always fresh on fruits. Don’t use the coffee machine there as it was only patched up and there is a high chance it will set itself on fire again. The…”

“Fine. You’re good. Still, I don’t appreciate the chatter.”

“They are always trouble!” A girl in bright pink colors shouted. 

“Yeah! Why do you have to ruin this trip for Lila!?”

“You’re just jealous of her boyfriend!”

More voices like this came from the crowd of kids. Dick started to feel bad that he singled the girls out. It definitely gave the class a reason to gang up on them. And the teacher still did nothing! He sighed. What did HR think when they accepted them. He would have to look into it later.

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Mari decided that she didn’t like Dick. Everyone in their class kept talking, but for some reason, he singled them out. For the rest of the trip, she made sure to pay as much attention as she could. There was this silent determination on her face. Chloe wisely also kept silent. 

After the trip class was led back to the conference room where another employer handed out the identificators and folders containing their assignments. 

“Keep the IDs on you at all times. As opposed to the ones you received, this won’t expire and are synched with your jobs, so you will have access to anything you might need. They are also mandatory to receive lunch in our canteen. When you get acquainted with your tasks, you can go to the level specified at the end of sheet one. Your mentor will meet you there.” With that, he left. Dick really needed to do some in-depth research on this class. Something kept icking his detective sense.

“Well, I’m going to the law department. Apparently whoever made the assignments knew my well.” Chloe bragged to her friend after opening the folder. 

Timidly, Mari also opened her folder. She skimmed over what was inside and groaned. “Apparently, I’m interning as personal assistant to one Tim Drake.”

“They actually assigned you to the sleep-deprived coffee addict?” Chloe asked in disbelief.

“You know him?” She asked in surprise

“He and his brother ruined my daddy’s parties two years ago. They got into an argument that ended up with them wrestling over a cake. It took me weeks to get the cake out of my hair! Weeks!” The blonde summarized.

“oh…” Mari tried to hold back the giggles.

“Don’t laugh! It’s a serious matter! Do you have any idea how much work it takes to have such a perfect hair?!”

“Of course… cakehead.” The girl couldn’t stop herself.

“Ugh, you… you… plant leg.” Chloe said.

“Really?” Mari raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best you can come with?”

“Well, I usually have better things to do than thinking about good insults.” Still, Chloe hugged her best friend. “Be careful. I wouldn’t put it past The Liar to try and sabotage you somehow.”

“I’ll be careful. Wish me luck.”

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The elevator took Mari all the way to the highest floor. When the doors opened, she stepped int a large room with one desk. As soon as the doors closed, the woman who was standing there rushed toward her. The girl tensed for a moment but she reminded herself that there is no real threat.

“Oh finally! I was asking them to hire someone else for months!” She had a messed bun of red hair on her head and looked like she didn’t sleep in a week.

“But… I’m just an intern madame!” Mari tried to explain.

“An intern?” The woman paused her packing and stared at the girl with wide eyes.

“Um… Madame Sarah Jackson?” 

“Yes. An intern…” She said in a disappointed voice to herself. “Ah! That’s no problem at all!” She started to tap on her Waynetech Tablet and after a moment she smiled. “There! You’re hired!”

“Wha…?!” Mari shouted, but was interrupted when Sarah pushed the tablet into her hand, followed by a large box full of documents and a small mug with a coffee bean pointing a gun at the reader and words ‘Your Coffee or your life!’.

“They are your problem now! Everything you need is in the box. I left detail about ongoing stuff and whatever you might need. Don’t call. I’m outta here!” She shouted before grabbing her personal belonging and leaping into the elevator.

“But…! But…!?” Mari shouted after the closing doors. She could hear a cheerful shout as the elevator left the level. 

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Next

[rennyforpresident]

Renny’s BBSim: Second Chances Week 4: The Call-out Post

Welcome back to Biiiiiig Brother!

@brentrobinson @cirie-sandra-michaela @flopbb-22 @flungevictee @fucklauryn @iantxrry @kaysarswhore @maxdoesbb @music-obsessednerd @pawn2393 @paymeincashnottears @phylisisley @rennyforpresident @swampassthing @theminionjcfucked @wheremy--demons--hide

After an extremely close vote, @music-obsessednerd was evicted from the Big Brother House. With a lot of talk of being afraid to play the game, will this week’s HOH change the way the house feels?

But first, as always, let’s check in on those alliances

What was once an unbreakable final 2 breaks, and @iantxrry and @phylisisley both have too many deals with too many people. They can’t trust each other anymore. And neither one tells the other one the final 2 deal is off, but neither of them plan on protecting the other. Truly a tragedy

How will this affect the HOH comp? Let’s find out

An endurance comp! And this one looks rough. Who will flop and who will top? (i’m sorry i needed a rhyme)

We’ll definitely have a new HOH this week! Not wanting to jeopardize his position in the house, @maxdoesbb drops after getting a promise from both of the other remaining houseguests that he’ll be safe.

@pawn2393: “*whispering* If you let me choose one of your nominations, I’ll let you choose one of mine when I win HOH”

@iantxrry: “Deal, easy! Just drop!”

@pawn2393: “Pinky promise?”

But just when @pawn2393 reached out his arm to pinky promise, the vines swung against the wall, and because he didn’t have the strength of both arms, he fell before the sacred vow could be made. Which means...

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@iantxrry! You have secured your safety and earned the right to nominate two of your fellow houseguests for eviction.

( @phylisisley looking in the mirror after dissolving her alliance with @iantxrry like)

Who will @iantxrry nominate? Let’s find out

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@iantxrry: “I have chosen to nominate you @rennyforpresident and you @wheremy--demons--hide. @rennyforpresident, you are hard to get along with. You have a big mouth, and it’s not comfortable for everyone in the house. @wheremy--demons--hide, you’re a flip-flopper. You have no loyalty to those who are loyal to you, and multiple people in this house agree. I nominated you both because I’m comfortable with either of you going, and I wish you luck in the veto. This ceremony is adjourned.”

@rennyforpresident in the DR: “*screaming* I have a big mouth!?! I’ll show you a fucking big mouth. @cirie-sandra-michaela and @fucklauryn will have my back, and next week, you’re going down.”

@wheremy--demons--hide in the DR: “*crying* I just don’t know who’s out to get me. I fucking hate this house. *more crying*”

Well, after that TENSE nomination ceremony, it’s time to find out who’s playing in the veto

Even though they’re not working together, @iantxrry picks @phylisisley to play in the veto because she wants her to think they’re still a duo. Who will take the win this time?

ZING! This week’s veto is the ZINGBOT! (I would zing y’all but I just CAN’T I’m sorry I’m not that creative or funny)

The competition is close, but these three houseguests pull ahead of the pack. Eventually, the winner is determined to be......

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@swampassthing! You have won the Golden Power of Veto! (Again!)

Will she use it to save either of the nominees and shake up the house?

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She will! @rennyforpresident, you are safe! Which means, @iantxrry, you will have to name a replacement nominee.

@iantxrry: “@cirie-sandra-michaela, you’re not my target, and I have no beef with you. I feel that you would be understanding and not try to come after me just because I nominate you. No hard feelings.”

@cirie-sandra-michaela in the DR: “I’m mad, but I’m not that mad. I feel good going up against @wheremy--demons--hide, and I feel good about staying this week.”

@rennyforpresident in the DR: “God ALMIGHTY I am so glad @swampassthing saved me! She is definitely a good one. I mean, of course I’m pissed my ally got put up in my place, but I feel confident that our alliance can convince the house to keep @cirie-sandra-michaela“

The Veto has been used and noms are locked! Which means, it’s time for my favorite part of the week! How were things in the house this week?

As the houseguests were relaxing in the backyard @flopbb-22 looks up and calls for the other houseguests to come look. A plane with a banner calling @kaysarswhore a rat and a snake is flying over the BB house, and immediately production calls the houseguests inside and cuts the feeds. When feeds come back, @kaysarswhore is crying and sobbing into @swampassthing‘s shoulder. 

After that crazy event, another live eviction is what these houseguests need!

Julie: “Hello houseguests! I still don’t know any of your names without help from my cue cards, so I won’t ask any questions and get straight to it- time to evict!

@cirie-sandra-michaela​: “I’m not gonna waste your time and campaign in front of you guys, because I’ve campaigned all week. I just wanna say that I’ve loved being here and that I know we’ll be friends after this. Peace!”

@wheremy--demons--hide​: “Alright, buckle up folks. This is a callout post. @iantxrry​, you wanna call me fake and disloyal? You should talk to your “ride or die” @phylisisley​ about how loyal you are to her. Yeah, I know all about your and @kaysarswhore​‘s deal. Speaking of @kaysarswhore​, everyone in this house is right to not trust you, because every time I turn my back on you, you’re talking shit again. And lastly, to my fellow nominee, @cirie-sandra-michaela​, you are clearly the frontrunner in this house, and the fact that everyone in here is so blindly supporting you shows me what sheep these people are. If you want to continue to be sheep, vote me out. If you want to shake this game up and actually have a shot at winning, keep me here. That’s it”

Everyone after that speech:

Julie: “Wow.... go off sis! We don’t have time to unpack all of that, so it’s time to vote!”

The votes are tied, 4-4. The only remaining votes are @swampassthing​ and @theminionjcfucked​. How will it end?

The vote is now 5-4 in favor of evicting @cirie-sandra-michaela​. Will @theminionjcfucked​ tie it up? Or will she put the final nail in the coffin?

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It’s a TIE! With five votes cast to evict each houseguest, it is now up to @iantxrry​ to decide who is leaving the Big Brother House.

Julie: “The votes are in houseguests, and we have a tie. @iantxrry​, please stand and cast your vote to evict”

@iantxrry​: “I said it from the start. You aren’t loyal, and that speech proves it. I’m not sorry to see you go. I vote to evict @wheremy--demons--hide​. Get to steppin”

Julie: “ @wheremy--demons--hide​, come on out!”

Julie: “That was quite a speech! Why did you choose to go that route?”

@wheremy--demons--hide​: “Well, to be honest, it was a last ditch effort to try and stay. I knew the odds weren’t in my favor, and I figured, why not light the house on fire if I’m not gonna be living in it anymore!”

Julie: “An interesting philosophy! Who do you think voted to keep you tonight? Because your last ditch effort almost worked!”

@wheremy--demons--hide​: “I’m banking on @flopbb-22​ and @maxdoesbb​ for sure, I know the two of them had my back, and I hope one of them wins it all. The other ones I really don’t know! I wasn’t expecting a tie.”

Julie: “Well, the other three were @phylisisley​, @swampassthing​, and @kaysarswhore​, so your speech might have had some unintended consequences!”

@wheremy--demons--hide​: “That’s so crazy! I mean I can see @kaysarswhore​ becase she was close with @flopbb-22​, even though I called her out just now * audience laughter*. But the other two were unexpected!”

Julie: “Well, you know what they say here! Expect the Unexpected! It was great watching you play again, and we’re all sad to see you go.

There’s only one more evictee before jury begins. Who will make the cut, and who won’t? Find out next time. For now, from outside the Big Brother house, I’m Julie Chen. Goodnight.”

That episode was INSANE and SO MUCH FUN to write I love doing this

[palidoozy-art]

hey gang, so this is actually homework I was going to hold off posting until I had more interesting stuff to pair with it, but I realized people might find it useful on its own!

So I’m in a Digital Matte painting class, as part of my sponsored retraining into concept artist. Our week 1 assignment was to create some composition thumbnails, and then the instructor would provide feedback on them. I’m trying to push myself in this class, so I did revisions based on his feedback.

What I realized other people might find useful is seeing what feedback he gave and how I responded to it. It’s intimidating to get critique on your own work, so sometimes it’s nice to just see other people getting critique and learn from them.

Anyway his/my notes below the cut! warning: long.

So the top image is what I turned in. His notes about the compositions in my first pass:

1 -- The composition is overall imbalanced. There’s important/cool looking stuff on the left hand side that goes off the page, and the rather unimportant foreground takes up a lot of space. There could be more interesting lighting.

2 -- He liked this one, and he liked the foreground root element. But the contrast between it and the trees in the background behind it (on the right hand side) is too intense. Contrast between values is a great way to draw a viewer’s eye, and sadly in this comp it worked against me by bringing his eyes directly to the edge of the page and leading them off. He recommended having some of that dark color lead into the tree itself, via vines/veins.

3 -- He liked the winding pathway to the building. Compositionally he thought it was pretty good. He got a little confused by the contrast between sci-fi/old timey architecture (though that gazebo is an actual building in the Salem Commons -- I failed to ‘sell’ the contrast between old/new architecture). He commented the trees in the background are all the same height (and admittedly they were all copy-pasted. whoops).

4 -- He liked this one as well, but he noted that the values of the building at its darkest and the foreground were identical. Values technically get lighter the further something recedes, because of general ambience of the sky coming in. He recommended I introduce some fog. He also said the foreground was a bit too busy, and to move some of those elements to the midground.

5 -- This one was probably the worst of the bunch (though he didn’t say that!). The composition feels like it should lead you somewhere... but doesn’t. It just goes to empty space. Furthermore, the pathway to the focal point of the piece just kind of goes straight there, and that’s it. There’s no real reason to even look at the edges of the piece. All attention is to the middle and that’s it.

6 -- He liked this one the best (to my chagrin because I hate cityscapes... but I gotta practice). His only feedback was to reduce the foreground.

After getting this feedback, I spent a bit of time retooling these images. He got back to me with a bit more feedback, but I guess I’ll note my stuff with why I made the changes I did.

1 -- I changed this one pretty drastically. I reduced the foreground, and while trying to make the composition better I actually decided to flip the skeleton hand entirely and introduce a new light source via ‘huge glowing orb of doom.’ That way there’s both a new light source, and a sort of cool spot for the eye to lead to. He didn’t have any comments about this one.

2 -- I reduced the contrast of the foreground root by the tree, and added veins going up the tree proper. I also did a minor alteration to the branches (he commented they looked too samey). He liked this one and felt it was improved.

3 -- I tried to add more sci-fi elements to the foreground/midground, to better integrate that old structure with the sci fi stuff in the background. I made a sort of pathway of light leading up to it to try to keep things interesting. I also varied the trees. He made no comments about this one.

4 -- I added ambient fog and retooled the foreground, while adding some other elements (a building, fences) in the fore-mid ground. He still felt the foreground was too busy. Honestly, I could probably improve this by removing the two foreground spikes on the left.

5 -- This was the success story of the bunch -- he liked this one way more, enough he didn’t really have any critique about it. I added a sort of ‘hero mountain’ in the background, parted the mountains and changed the composition to lead the eye longer, and added a boat for scale. TECHNICALLY the first didn’t take place on water but you know what don’t judge, I thought it looked cooler.

6 -- I barely touched this one, except moving the foreground elements out of the way a bit. He still liked this one a lot, but cautioned me to add a bit more breathing room to the midground and warned me against making it too cluttered.

Anyway, sorry for the length -- if my other assignments bring some cool art insights I might post them with his feedback as well. Since matte painting comprises mostly of photobashing the WIP stuff might not be as interesting.

[umbrellamemorabilia]

everyone wont stop prattling on about how vanya should be gay but they cant even say anything funny or thoughtful about it lmfaoo they just cant see past ellen page playing her or, in the worse case, genuinely think that "wearing loose clothes" and "being abused by a boyfriend" are lesbian-only experiences. the closest thing to an earnest and enjoyable joke about gay vanya ive seen was a fucking vine comp with a carly rae jepsen joke and i dont think it was even meant as a gay joke just a general 'her power is music' joke. i feel like such an asshole for being annoyed by this like i know its especially a bad look on a blog centered on shipping her with two different men but this is an overflowing frustration from other contexts and the general social climate of this site-- i'm just fucking sick of bi (and straight!) women being denied their own experiences, interiority, worthiness as women who don't deserve abuse and who make their own choices. people really think theres no such thing as an earnest independent bi culture so theres no aesthetics or experiences we're allowed to claim lmfao it's all "gay things stolen from gay people by straight-lite people" so essentially if a woman demonstrates independent thought esp in contrast to patriarchal standards for women (behavior, appearance, whatever) then she's automatically strictly a lesbian and never, yknow, a woman with a brain who happens to be of any sexuality. it's not a personal choice, it's divine enlightenment automatically gifted to lesbians and no one else. i know i know i know that this culture has been built up in reaction to the heteronormative & lesbophobic real world but the way jokes or venting get turned into entire political philosophies on this site is truly fucked up and it still matters how you treat other lgbt people online because... online is still real life and many ppls main or only source of any sort of lgbt community. ideas that are hostile to bisexual existence are like, bad, no matter what. training yourself out of empathy for abused straight & bi women is literally bad no matter the excuse. yknow. im tired

[madame-kiksters]

Rules:

1. always post the rules

2. answer the questions given by the person who tagged you

3. write 11 questions of your own

4. tag 11 people you want to get to know better (or however many you want)

I was tagged by @burntsugarandhalfawilltolive

1. What fandom has had the most positive impact in your life?

I think the fandom that has had the most positive impact on me is probably Natsume and the Book of Friends. Apparently there’s discourse [or so I hear] but I’ve only ever experienced wholesomeness...and everybody thirsting for Natsume [in the anime and in the fandom xD]

2. If you could pick any talent to be good at (that you don’t already have), what would it be?

Studying. I have always been able to read things once and retain everything I need, even in my college courses, but the program I’m in... I had no experience studying so I’ve had to try many different things, still haven’t found what works for me. 

3. What do you think is the closest thing we have to magic currently?

Medicine. There’s a med that can stop and restart the heart and meds that can wake someone up from a stroke like *snaps fingers* THAT!

4. Cool or warm colors?

Cool colors, specifically blue and purple.

5. What fictional animal/creature do you wish was real?

Dragons. Mayyybe griffons >.>

6. What is the longest you’ve ever slept?

12 hours in my younger days. Now I hit 8 and I physically CANNOT sleep anymore. 

7. What is one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

It’s okay to not be the smartest, or the most special, or the best at anything. Just try your best and know that you did the best you could. Because you have people that care about you that think you’re just the bees knees.

But also:

DON’T OPEN THAT CABINET WHERE THE SPIDER WAS AS BIG AS THE ENTIRE DOOR, FOR GODSAKE, PLEASE! I’M... WE’RE STILL SCARRED BY THAT IMAGE!!!

8. What was your favorite toy growing up?

Hmm, well. I guess it would have to be this stuffed dog with a blue bandanna that I got from one of my dad’s coworkers who’d dressed up as Santa for all the employees’ kids one year. I named him Blue and I still sleep cuddled with him :’)

9. You win half a million dollars, what would you spend it on?

I would try very hard to save it... but would probably end up buying games and such that I can’t even play right now bc time and the lack thereof.

10. If you eat fries with ketchup, do you put it on the side or on top of the fries?

>:U THE SIDE! WHAT KINDA HEATHEN??

Look, I’mma level right here. Ketchup directly on the fries makes ‘em soggy. And I don’t disrespect potatoes like that.

11. What is one thing you like about yourself?

I like that I am a loyal friend. Even if you’re mean to me, I’d rather duke it out, let the dust settle, and be friends again than to just cut ties.

12. what is your favorite juice?

Cranberry.

13. is there a certain texture that makes your skin crawl?

I don’t like nuts in my baked goods because when the textures mix.... i just don’t like it okay? xD

14. apple or samsung?

Samsung.

15. do you prefer typing or writing with a pencil?

Typing. As a left handed person, typing doesn’t cause more strain on me to write in copious amounts.

16. where do you keep your phone? (back pocket, purse, jacket, etc.)

Back pocket. Jacket pocket if I am wearing a hoodie.

17. do you move your hands a lot when talking?

ALL THE TIME! *flails wildly*

18. what do you do to pass time?

Honestly? I just stare into nothingness with a blank mind. I wish I could say I was thinking. And sometimes I start out thinking of fantastical stories I could write. But it’s nice to just sit there quietly every once in awhile.

19. mechanical or wood pencil?

Ticonderoga black number 2 pencil, bb. Good for writing and sketching!

20. what is your favorite thing to wear?

An over-sized hoodie. It’s like a blanket I get to wear out in public without getting too many odd looks (I do live in Florida so... if the forecast isn’t imminent rain, you get odd looks).

21. make up or barefaced?

Barefaced. I don’t really like makeup and fully believe it should be an accessory that everyone can wear if they want to.

22. if you could have any superpower, what would it be?

Oh gosh... ummm. The power to levitate myself at will. Even if it’s just a few inches off the ground. I think that would be a nice ability bc I could finally reach things I am too small to get without strain.

-----

Now for 11 questions.. hoo boy.

1. Dogs or cats?

2. Snakes or rats?

3. Cartoon Network, Disney, or Nickelodeon?

4. Cartoons or live action?

5. Comics, books, or fanfiction?

6. Were you in on Vine before all the Vine comps on Youtube?

7. Ever experienced the black hole you fall into while on Youtube?

8. Do you doodle? If so, what do you find yourself doodling most often?

9. Deku. Be honest. Did you think I meant the tree from Legend of Zelda or the MC from My Hero Academia?

10. How would you rate the name of a turtle named, “Sheldon”?

11. Do you like stickers?

Okay, now to tag 11 peeps... uhhh, well. I really wanna know what @burntsugarandhalfawilltolive would answer to my questions, so her.

@redawilo, @oinkyblanketpig, @app-jelly, @thesoundofthunderstorms, @metalwarrior22, @dliessmgg, @birdwives, @fandommother7, @salemq, and last, but never least @alwaysjustnerdythings

[mintyyukimevt]

so I didnt post about it but now that ive remembered to block them im gonna talk about how Im getting kicked out and vent a bit.  so yeah, my “friends” who senna and I live with are kicking us out pretty much entirely because they are upset that they aren’t getting the living with a friend experience they were expecting or something, aka they wanted me and senna (but mostly me it feels like) to be spending more time with them, even though they never asked to hang out and all they ever do is watch vine comps or anime that i’m not interested in or some shit.  One of the things they complained about it like us not doing enough work/chores or something, and how they see me doing two people’s work and senna doing none which is funny because the extra work i’m doing is literally all of theirs. Nearly every day I’ll go into the kitchen and there will be dirty dishes in the sink, the dishwasher is full, the trash is full, there’s food crumbs and shit all over the counter tops and the stove, any pots or pans that I would need to lets say make eggs are just sitting dirty in the dishwasher, and senna literally is never the cause of any of that. She signs up for and does the chores on the white board, she takes care of her own mess, and that’s that. It’s these bumbling buffoons who seem to think they’re a fucking pleasure to live with that are leaving fucking messes everywhere - and up until they told us to get the fuck out, i’ve been cleaning all of it up without complaining hardly at all. Autumn and Brandon were upset that they’re the ones who always take the trash out but that’s a fucking joke because just about once a day I would see the trash can was bursting full, empty it, replace the bag, and walk it out to the trash can. Half the time if brandon even fucking empties the trash bag, he just sets it on the porch or next to the front door like a lazy piece of shit, but you know, that’s fine, that’s not a problem.  Ally said that she doesn’t recognize senna or I and like, that pissed me off so fucking much. Of course you don’t recognize us, you knew us when we were locked away in our abusive parents houses!!! now we actually fucking get to live and be people, we’re happier and healthier, and i’m a fucking girl like lmfao I hope you don’t recognize me bitch! I don’t want to be anything like I was when I was living like a lifeless sack under my dad’s roof to avoid problems because he was abusive as fuck, and surprise surprise that left me as a shell of a person who repressed everything and didn’t get to enjoy life or look forward to a future because I couldn’t. But all you see is that I’m not some punching bag that you can carry around next to you, and i’m not a fucking hollow shell of a life and that means you don’t want to be friends with me because it’s not worth trying to be friends with a real person, you just want someone who will nod and smile and pretend like everything is okay and not go after what they actually enjoy or value their own time at all, huh? When it actually takes effort to make your friends happy it’s not worth it, and you should just fucking kick them out of your god damned house, huh??? also I want to fucking die lol not because I’m not excited for my future or anything, just because I get violently angry at stupid things and since I never got into cutting I just beat myself up and wish I could fucking kill myself. I’m glad i’m not into cutting, but like, I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I wasn’t so badly fucked up from my childhood that it impacts my life to this day in such an aggressively negative way, I wish I didn’t have these repressed anger issues, I wish I didn’t physically need to attack myself when I get so angry, I just, I’m so fucking sick of it and I literally don’t want to talk to anyone about it but I’m just so fucking, pissed about everything. I need a punching bag or something that I can beat the shit out of really, really badly.

[paraclete0407]

When I was at Governor’s School after the ‘Oh! Are you a Retardican?’ thing and getting volleyball-smashed in my finger for implying something about male-female differences (I did not say ‘traditional’ since I am pro-renovation / Pope Saint John Paul II) - started practicing the piano again, ‘Claire de Lune’ and two of Chopin’s waltzes. I didn’t know any ‘sweet’ music for girls.  As a kid I liked ‘Swans on the Lake.’  One of my other favorites is Liszt’s transcription of the ‘Shepherd’s Song’ or last movement of Beethoven’s fourth symphony.  Weavings and ‘declamations(?’).  But to some the weavings are flower-garlands or vine-stems or sth and to some they are chains; I wonder how Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli would interpret the weavings given his ‘bulletization’ of Chopin elsewhere how his fioritura are like a figure-skater using gravity-boots and wires from the ceiling. 

Watched a bit of the Int. Chop. Comp just now and realized - IMO - they’re just using the wrong pianos and have for a long time.  Chopin started out IIRC with sth called a fortepiano and throughout his life preferred uprights to grands; his favorite brand was Pleyel, perhaps ‘rosewood.’  Some of these heavier grands not only obviate the possibility of the miraculous or intuitive or non-personal(?) in the fioritura (chains of gracenotes), but can cause lasting nerve-damage and even dystonia(?)(a kind of paralysis).  NYT of course loves to use STEM and call everything ‘small muscle athletes.’  To achieve certain ‘pellucid(?),’ singing effect the triceps sth sth I think.  To me perhaps the most totally realized pianist of 20C was Uchida Mitsuko but honesty I don’t have the money to know or the time to listen to hundreds of records.  I just felt as though she never threw a note away - she had no ‘personality cult’ as a pianist.  The other I admire from an ethical standpoint Wilhelm Kempff.  Kempff could’ve been a ‘gr8′ Headmaster.  

Milstein, Furtwaengler.  Heifetz as obviously gifted but IDK if I ever felt ‘wow’ or ‘oh’ listening to him.  Milstein’s ‘Chaconne’ starts to rip the chains and weavings both apart; like Bach is attacking his math or rebelling against God.  

I never studied conducting but surely one of the problem has to be giving the violins a ‘true voice’ which Furtwaengler is able to do in ‘Shepherd’s Song’ along with the flutes.  Orchestras need many violins and only a few trumpets ad trombones and on, but even with many the violin section can lack a ‘will to live(?),’ ‘identity,’ ‘face?’  There is a ‘bright’ at the end of his ‘Shepherd’s Song’ - literal ecstasy which IDK how he was able to inspire either the violinists or to get the other sections to back off.  In America there are all these jokes and during choir break they’re playing Mario-songs on the piano.

If you lose everything that was special about you at the end of your life were you ever truly doing what you enacted or acted out?  What was my most specific trait?  Was it ultimately snobbery?  

Lately I want to punch through doors and stuff.  Maybe I ought to go back to the night at the department store with person and person; downtown Milwaukee used to have a ‘certain shade of blue’ to their Christmas-lights in 2008 but today the whole city that I can tell drank warm Burger King milk before singing ‘Deck the Halls’ and it shows.  Like everyone I love ‘The Carol’ and sometimes tell myself 3-gen’s ‘Hail Mary(?)’ moment was ‘Wish Tree.’

At the hagwon I was known for leaving the side-office at the right moment ater telling a joke but it’s really easy to be like that and in the land of lemmings and Ewoks that’s all some people want like 55-year-old male nurse when I criticize him for railroading me - not giving me 1 minute to make a life-crucial decision -he comes at me with my own ‘executive style’ like, ‘How you like me now oppa?’  Like DROP FUCKING DEAD.  I try to make them crisp and considerate but they don’t get that procedure and style have human consequences - that they belong to an organization that impacts lives.  Just banging on their drum... no ‘chain of care,’ no ‘ownership.’  Lt’s just Thatcherize all of Wisconsin!  They actually kill people this way and Biden says social media is killing people.  I wasn’t asking you for peanuts or a glass of OJ I am asking to be allowed to consider my own body, psyche, soul.

And it’s like all of America or the world, Jiang Zemin.  TS 1989 they ask for democracy and not only can CCP not say ‘no’ but they have no process or plan; I don’t even know.  It’s like your pussy bitch father finally tried to an up - a bit like ‘Anna Karenina’ where the husband starts quoting the Bible but who knows what is in his heart or whether he has any [nunchi?]; whether say he LIKES Christianity or would feel sad or disappointed if he lost it? 

CCP ccream at each other in a closed session for days.  I just tell myself again, ‘Oh XJP can’t quite control his own country and Mao was a blunt-force instrument and the remains of his heyday are being mitigated even still’ but in America and Europe they’ve never seen full-blown Maoism even in the times of Hitler and Stalin, that I know of.  Maybe in China after TS1989 they still let the pro-youth cadre live for decades under house-arrest, Zhao Ziyang, and maybe ‘e-flowers’ on the occasion of his passing for ‘a vanished world of love’ - ‘I am thinking of my old friend, ‘zi(?).’  I was fond of Tu Fu’s ‘Thinking of Li Bai Beyond the Sky,’ ‘Demons exult in human failure’ - but I mean literal demons not fairy-tale characters from Amy Tan stories that Chinese use to seem loveable.  And that too there again feeds in to ‘Op. White Summer’ / nuke Milwaukee / uke America.  

David  has a sense of evil like when driving to DC with TW-1 we got lost in Fredericksburg at night - never again.  Outside Madison 08.  Maybe bairen didn’t manage the environment here well, there is no real wilderness, everything is ’revolving in crystal’ or ‘the glass man, without external reference.’

I would look around for n/Nature more but the pervasive disbelief-engine or anti-belief-engine or whatever is happening t me with debates over the past has made it hard to drive and I lose energy quickly except with typing.  I miss my gifted student whom I tried to push to write her sci-fi novel about caste societies enabled by biotechnology but she was already pulling a Catherine Chung(?) talking about children and the coming generation instead of accomplishing the proximate mission or purpose or objective.  My uncle is /was really devout and resembles Saint Paul in my mind’s eye, kept his muscles in to his 90′s, and yet the transmission of his best values encountered massive interference - kids divorced, Spice Girls(?!), cultural Christianity / Christian nationalism(?), CS Lewis and Martin Luther saying it’s cool to tell sick jokes and fart, the jocular contempt of the Gingrich-era GOP for the poor and perhaps women.  And how most of my family’s money seemed to come from the arms-industry like the Sidewinder missile and eve after walking away from the mil-ind complex the mentality of massive retaliation or lethal and punitive solutions to all problems - but that is a a big intuitive leap and maybe self-serving.

One of the ‘split’ moments in my life was being offered a job at Catholic University of Daegu ad I requested 3 days to decide but was woken up in the morning at UncleHammer’s house told to leave immediately and forgot to reply b/c I had like 1hr sleep.  Just shouldn’t’ve been there.

This again why I say if I don’t die from coronavirus and ever work a good job again I should just talk out any problem all night or bear any burden; 10 billion people all wanna good job and ever 36-y/o male has stories and observations.  

‘Heaven and Earth.’  People tried so hard to make this world a little better, some theory of r/Revolution as bringing Heaven down to Earth and maybe now Man will go  out to the stars as well.

[abdicatedarchive]

Lexi’s House Party || Rose and Marina

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: pool house @ lexi’s house party // 29th of january.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: rose x marina.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒: none?

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒: rose has rolled her ankle and needs her sister’s help.

Rose was sitting down at the bottom of the stairs looking at her ankle while she waited for Marina, "Hey" she whispered, so they wouldn't hear her at the top of the stairs where the two were making out. "Can you get me out of here? I rolled my ankle" the girl whispered again as she put her arms out so her sister could help her up.

Marina had met up with Rose after she got a text from her, noticing her sister sitting down at the bottom of the stairs. "You rolled your ankle? Are you okay?" she asked with raised brows. She already knew their dad would be pissed if he found out about this since competitions were coming up. She went down and put Rose's arm around her shoulders to help her up. 

"Be quiet, people are upstairs getting busy" said Rosemary as she was helped up. She knew her dad would be mad if she tried to walk on it and make it worse, "Just take me to the kitchen please and I will tell you everything" she whispered as she put her arm around her sister and hobbled over to the house. Once they were outside she started talking, "I walked in on Noah and Bliss making out, and then I tripped and fell down to the first landing on the stairs" she explained.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just need some frozen peas or something" said the girl as she got herself onto a chair with the help of her sister. "Dad is going to kill me, but I should be fine by Monday. I can move it" Rosemary added as she moved her foot around to show that she could, even though she winced. "Yeah, I think he saw me kiss Juniper earlier and so our little agreement might be off? I'm not sure" said the girl as she was handed the peas. "Also I kissed Juniper earlier, long story, oh and LONGER story Caleb is coming by to get his necklace on Saturday and I would love it if you would give it to him so I don't ever have to speak to him ever ever again"

Rose put the bag on her ankle, "It's just a small thing, as long as I don't put any weight on it over the weekend I should hopefully be good to go? Maybe benched for one practice? Dad is going to have a cow" she said looking up at the ceiling, just thinking about how upset their dad was going to be. Marina had a lot of questions, probably because Rose had put so much out on the table. "I would appreciate you punching him, but yes okay long story... well long stories, plural. Sooooooo, I hung out with Noah again and it was ... it was hot. I was really into it, and after I suggested that we do the friends with benefits thing but like actually do friends with benefits and not catch feelings like everyone in every movie ever about friends with benefits. So that went well" said Rose, catching her breath as she continued to ramble. "The thing with Juniper is just that we've been hanging out a lot and I dunno, she's just always there and everything and ... I really don't know how to explain it. I mean she's really pretty and everything, but I've been boy crazy since I could breathe? So when I say idk, i mean it" Rose continued on, taking a water bottle from the counter and taking a long sip. "So anyways ... we're on the couch and I'm playing with her hair, again don't ask, and internally I was like you know what would be fun, making out. So I leaned over and kissed her and I was getting into it, did you know that girls have way softer lips than all these gross boys, I'm getting off track." Rosemary took another sip of water before she continued, "Soooooo, I'm pretty sure that Noah saw because I saw him walking away, I think. Not one hundo on that because .. drunk. ANYWAYS, Caleb saw and he was being a total asshole about it because that whole mistake the other day when I slept with him? Well he's coming at me with all this stuff about how I'm not working on our relationship and I'm like ... buddy. I don't have anything to work on I'm not the cheater" said Rose getting huffy about it. "I was already pissed about those garbo disgusting ass tweets about girls in dresses here tonight because he wasn't even talking about me. I'm clearly wearing jeans and a very cute corset top. The disrespect honestly. Like if he was going to thirst tweet, like make it vaguely about me. It's just embarrassing, because everyone can see that and that he's being a pig and he's not even being a pig about me. So yeah, I told him he was wasting my time, that he's been wasting my time, and that he's not allowed to waste my time anymore" Rose finished her statements, "There's more but that is the brief summation, and I'd like to give my time to the chair" she said, referencing how you end your time in a debate.

Marina nodded her head throughout the whole explanation, looking at her sister with a blank stare. She was still pretty buzzed from all the drinking she did, but she was trying her best to take everything in. "Right... so friends with benefits with Noah, girls have softer lips, Juniper playing with your hair, and Caleb being gross as usual." she said mostly to herself to make sure she remembered everything. "Well Noah shouldn't be upset or anything about you kissing someone else. Isn't he hooking up with someone right now? That was the plan." she nodded as she spoke. "Caleb is a piece of shit. Period. End of story. Moving on from him is the best option. There's just too many bad things about him. Is there anything left of him that's good? Like honestly?" she rolled her eyes as she thought about the boy. Marina used to really like Caleb before, she would have never thought he'd turn out like this. But the moment he disrespected Rose to Marina's face, she decided he was no good for her sister. "But now that he's out of the picture for good, I'm assuming, you can do whatever you want with whoever you want. So everything should be getting better from here on out, right?"

Rose nodded as her sister went through the rundown, "Yeah, I don't think he's mad. It was Caleb who got mad, and yeah Noah is hooking up with Bliss right now, but I walked in on them making out and then I tripped" said Rose shrugging a little, "I'm not jealous or whatever, I was just hoping that he and I might ... ya know, tonight" she added. Rose nodded and looked at the ground as Marina talked about Caleb, "Yeah it's 100% done, I honestly ... I never want to see him ever again" said Rose firmly. She smiled when Marina said she could do whatever she wanted, "Yeah, I guess I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. Everything will be better, and now we can do double dates with ... whoever I want" she said thinking about the question again. She wasn't sure who she wanted, or if she was actually even ready for any of this.

Marina patted Rose's shoulder, "Well there's always tomorrow." she responded with a small smile. Once she heard Rose say that she never wanted to see Caleb again, Marina nodded. "He hurt you a lot, he doesn't deserve you." she told her sister, and she meant it. She was glad that her sister was wanting to move on from her ex, she hoped that this was a step in the right direction. The mention of double dates caused Marina to force a laugh and shake her head, "I'd first need a date to participate in that." she tried to joke to keep the mood light, but her love life wasn't doing so great at the moment.

"He doesn't deserve you, now go chop his dick off!!" said Rose quoting one of their favorite vines. The two loved sitting around and watching vine comps, it was a good way to pass time. When her sister said that she didn't have a date to go on double dates with, she replied "What about tony???" shocked that her sister wasn't all in on it. "Did you two talk about the whole ... he might be gay thing?" she probed, wondering if she should have phrased it better, but she was still a little drunk. There was no way she could have not told Marina, it had to be known.

Marina bursted out into laughter once Rose quoted the vine. "Now go chop his dick off!" she repeated. She held back the urge to quote a random vine right after. If she did, the two would be there all night going back and forth. "Yeah we did. From our talk it seems like he's into guys and girls. He told me I mean the most to him, but I don't know." she crossed her arms and looked down at the floor. "I just thought he wanted to get back together, I thought everything was going to go back to how it was. But I think I got too ahead of myself."

Rose put her hand on her sister's shoulder, "If he hurts you, I will go chop his dick off" she said with a smile, "But I think he meant it when he said you were the most important thing, I know I wasn't there, but you're the most important person to me so he must feel the same way" the girl replied sweetly. Her sister was great, and if Tony was going to ditch her for anyone? That would be a major character flaw. Even if it was Sammy, who she was fond of. But Marina was Marina. 

Marina gave her sister a sad smile and nodded her head. She had hurt Antonio many times. It felt more than deserving for her to get hurt back, but she kept the thought to herself . "If I was, he wouldn't have hooked up with someone else." she shrugged her shoulders. "But thanks, you know you're the most important person to me too." she said with a more genuine smile. Marina felt more lonely than ever since she'd been back in town, but she knew she'd always have her sister. "Oh, I know you won't, but he wanted to make sure I told you to not say anything about all of this. He's not ready to be out to everyone."

"Maybe there's just some stuff you don't know about" said Rose, doing her best to be optimistic about everything. It was what they owed each other, her and her sister. Optimism in the face of it all. "I would never out someone" said Rosemary, she had her own thoughts to think about when it came to that. Paola coming out to the family was just accepted immediately, but she just didn't know what she wanted to label herself. "Do you think you're like 100% straight?" she asked, curious to what her sister's answer was. They had always been boy crazy, the two of them. It was always one boy or another.

"Yeah maybe. I think I just need a distraction, a pretty one." Marina suggested as she forced a smile on her face. She had to act like this didn't faze her until it actually didn't. "I know, I'm just telling you just in case he comes to you asking about it." she clarified. Marina knew Rose wasn't like that. "Me? Nah I don't think so." she shook her head. Marina had become pretty laid-back in regards to her sexual orientation, but it was also something she didn't bring up to others too often. "I would always get those 'haha what if we just kissed' thoughts towards some girls during summer camp back then. You know what I mean?" she asked with a small laugh.

Rosemary wiggled her eyebrows, "A tall distraction?" she said with a smile, "Like a very tall brooding awful guy that only has one use?" Rose added as she gave her sister a playful nudge. They were both in agreement that Cody Summers had one purpose on this earth that benefitted anyone. "I mean I kinda get what you mean now, but I've just been ... I don't know. I've liked Caleb since forever, and then I liked Bradley, and then Asher, and then Noah, and I haven't really stopped being like all about them in years" Rose said, thinking out loud a little.

"I think our twin telepathy is growing stronger and stronger every day." Marina tapped on her forehead with a small smirk on her face. She wasn't in a relationship, so if Antonio wanted to go back and forth between hooking up and with her and other people, Marina would try to do the same. "Well I remember just shoving those feelings down when I was younger cause I thought I was just being silly, but I think seeing people like Paola helped me a bit." she tried to explain what she never really said out loud before. "When it comes to people I'm attracted to, I try not to view it by gender. Like yeah, I've been interested in a lot of guys, but they're all just individual people. Maybe the next person I'll be into won't be a guy, who knows?" she raised her shoulders. "But that's just me. I'm not even sure I've found a label I feel completely right with yet. Sexuality is fluid. Everyone's different." she looked at Rose with a small smile. "I don't know if I'm helping you out in any way."

"Oh our twin telepathy has never been stronger. Boo to scientists for thinking just because we're not blood twins does not mean that we do not get all the perks!" she said, the room filling with the sound of her laughter. She listened to her sister explain, and she understood. It was just different. She was worried about how she wasn't ready more than anything, and how she'd been piling on distraction after distraction ... and she felt like she was using people. "I just don't want to use her and lose her, which is kinda what I've been up to with most people" said Rosemary with a shrug, "I don't want her to hate me if I'm not ready, or it turns out I don't want that".

“It was just a kiss, and you’ve been drinking. I don’t think she’ll think too much into it.” Marina told Rose with the shake of her head. “You can’t control how you feel. If you’re into her, go for it. If you’re not, don’t feel bad for that.” she continued to explain. “She’s always seemed pretty understanding to me. Can she really get upset if you’re not ready for something?”

"That's fair enough" said Rosemary, trying to not think about it too much. "Well, don't let me ruin your night, go and have some fun. I'll be here whenever you want to leave. I want to rest it for a bit and also wait until Dad is in bed" Rosemary added.

"Everything's gonna be fine." Marina tried reassuring Rose with a smile on her face. "Antonio said he wanted to meet up for a bit, but I'll text you when I'm ready." she told her sister before looking down at her ankle. "We could always spend the night at Paola's, but we'll figure it out later. Love you." Marina gave Rose a hug before going off to find Antonio. //END

[planetsam]

prompt: could u pls pls write a fic where the bad men actually took el again (maybe when she visited the school or was with her sister) and mike finds out as well as hopper and they try to get her back. and maybe the ‘sessions’ are like 200x worse bc the bad men are mad she left in the first place

The car door slams behind her.

Papa makes a noise of disappointment but she’s too numb to hear it. She doesn’t even need the drugs because she can’t think straight. The gate is closed, she saved them. Now it’s time to come home. She can’t look at Hopper because if she does–if she does she’ll start to cry. And then they’ll come after him too. The guns on him are already terrifying. Capable of separating them.

“Kid–Kid!” She stares ahead, “look at me kid, I’m gonna get you out of there okay? Kid–Jane!” She keeps her eyes ahead, “Jane I’m coming after you, you hear me?!”

She wants to be relieved, but all she can think about is Mama and the shocks.

Hopper in a rocking chair.

She presses her eyes together, doesn’t see the needle they slip into her arm. Halfway happy, halfway happy. She chants it to herself over and over as the world slips. Halfway happy, maybe Mike will understand. Maybe he can be all the way happy too one day. Cruelly she adds Max’s name in there. Because maybe he can smile at her for real. This hurts worse than the last goodbye, she lied this time. She broke her promise. He’ll stop talking to her and Hopper and everyone will be safe.

She really is going home.

Hopper is besides himself. He thinks he sees her slump over and he doesn’t recognize the sound he makes. Just that he drives the men back, punches the other. Dares them to shoot him, practically begs for it. But they don’t. Because the world sucks like that. He turns to Doc Owens as they carry him out. About to remind him of his promise but he’s out like a cheap drunk and all Hopper can do is yell his fury at the sky. Then he has to drive over to the Byer’s house and fucking rip the Wheeler kids heart out. Which is just exactly how he wanted to wrap this up.

“Eleven?”

God it’s even worse up close. He knows that the Wheeler kid’s been acting out and that he’s called Eleven every day for the past year, but he didn’t realize how completely miserable he looked until that looks off his face. He gives a shake of his head and the kid stops dead, staring up at him like he doesn’t understand.

“It’s not her fault, she didn’t want to go–”

“Who took her?!” He demands.

“Oh my God,” he turns at the sight of Joyce, bruises on her neck and sweat staining her shirt. Something in his chest cracks and it’s the hospital all over again. Except he’s a far more broken man. “Jim.”

He unravels as she grabs him. How she’s so strong, he doesn’t know. He’s completely devastated. He never wants to move again. She catches his weight. It feels like the vines are around his throat again. Tight and tighter, like he can’t breathe. Someone’s making horrible sounds and he wants to push her to the Wheeler kid but all he can do is cling to her.

“I tried, I just wanted to keep her safe,” he gets out, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Will watches him on the couch.

It takes him three days to notice him.

When he does he swears lethargically, like he can’t put his back into it and throws a hand over his eyes. It’s disconcerting for a man whose been his mother’s bodyguard for the past year, showing up at every appointment and enforcing everything she says. Will doesn’t feel so bad about the past year when he realizes that Hopper’s been hiding a whole person for the entirety of it. But he still feels bad and he wants to help.

“What, kid?” He questions.

“Where were you hiding her?” He asks plainly and Hopper’s arm lifts slightly, “they already found her so–”

“Cabin, out in the woods.”

“That’s not very specific,” Will says. Hopper lets out a loud sigh, “never mind.”

He gets Jonathan to take him out there later.

Jonathan still looks at him like he’s going to disappear. Will feels that way too, so Jonathan is the best person to have there. Especially for what he’s attempting to do. There’s a lot of blanks in his head, like an empty space has been opened up. He tries to go to it, gingerly. Carefully. Jonathan follows him as he lets his feet lead the way, looking for anything. He can’t explain what catches him but something does, something tugs and he follows.

“Stay back,” Jonathan says and kicks in the locked door when they get to the Cabin.

Will knows they’re in the right place.

While Jonathan takes in the whole picture, Will narrows in on the few things that stick out. Girl things. Hoppers familiar enough to be recognizable so he goes for the oddities. He’s not sure what he’s after. He feel weird about being in a girl’s room, but not as weird as when he steps through the door into darkness. Panic rushes at him but he shoves it back, it’s quiet. Not like the other place. It’s still too. Like he’s standing on a lake. He steps forward, looking around. It doesn’t take long to come upon a slight figure, curled in a ball. For a moment he thinks it’s a boy, but maybe he can ask for directions. But it’s not, it’s a girl with a shaved head. He crouches down and her eyes snap open, like she can see him. She turns a swollen wrist over and he looks at the numbers on the discolored skin.

“Eleven?” He asks hopefully, “I’m Will!”

That’s all he gets out before he snaps back into the room. Jonathan is at the door and he’s in the cabin. He might not understand a lot but he’s getting pretty tired of going in and out of places he’s got no say in. He bends down and picks up the stuffed toy at his feet, shoving it into his backpack because he’s not that stupid. Jonathan picks up a sheet and holds it up.

“I think she wanted to be a ghost for Halloween,” he says, “that could’ve been great with you guys as ghostbusters.”

“Don’t say that to Mike,” he orders, shoving the sheet into his bag anyway.

The last thing he takes is a radio.

He’s not sure why.

If Steve Harrington’s parents are curious as to why he’s got a middle schooler in his car, they don’t say it.

“You should look at colleges,” Will tells him flatly. Steve shrugs, “how come you aren’t?”

“You sound like my mom,” Steve says pulling onto the interstate as Will tells him where to go, “why am I doing this again?”

“Because Jonathan knows where he wants to go and you’re a good excuse?”

Steve raises his eyebrow at him and Will shrugs. They drive in silence. Will wasn’t really there when Steve somehow adopted everyone. He’s got vague memories but they aren’t reliable. But when he tells Dustin about his plan Dustin calls Steve like that’s a normal thing to do. And Steve shows up. Sure he complains but he shows up and Will’s had a year and a lifetime too much of people saying things are cool and being very not cool.

The radio tower is big. But if Eleven need a signal maybe this will give her one. Steve waits with him for eight hours, until it goes dark. When their stomachs growl he’s got food and when Will finally realizes this is fruitless, he claps him on the shoulder.

“It was worth a shot,” he tells him and drives them back.

“You should be a teacher,” Will says when they get to his house. Steve looks at him, “maybe the bad stuff that happened wouldn’t have gotten so far if we’d had teachers like you,” Steve seems to consider this and Will presses on, “you can write about helping me with my project for your essay. Jonathan wrote about me for his, I need a ride next week again.”

“You’re a good kid, you know that? Weird but good,” Steve says.

“Yeah that’s because I got possessed,” Will says and hops out of the car.

“I can’t use that in my essay!” Steve yells after him.

Will laughs for the first time in months.

They get caught on their fourth outing.

By Mike.

He steps in front of the car when they’re pulling out, face twisted in anger and they stare at each other. Mike walks to the back of the car with measured steps, like he’s thinking about each one and maybe he is. He rips open the door and throws his bag in, dropping into the seat and crossing his arms. He doesn’t say a word but Will gives Steve a look that says they should probably drive. Steve nods back and throws the car into gear. Mike doesn’t say a word, not until they’ve been there for an hour.

“I can’t believe you’ve been trying to contact her and didn’t tell me!” He explodes and Will looks down, “why?!”

“I wanted to find her,” he says quietly.

“No you don’t!” Mike yells back, “no-one does, not really! I’m the one who called, I’m the one who didn’t replace her. I’m the one who lost her!”

Will squares his shoulders, surprised and not at how furious Mike is. How hurt he is. Mike’s taller than him too now but Will’s faced down a lot of things taller than him recently.

“I did everything for a year and you were just gone!” He yells and Will knows that it’s not just him he’s talking to, “you came back and then you left! You promised!”

“Okay, okay that’s–” Steve steps forward and Mike rounds on him.

“You’re not going to get back with my sister so just stop trying! She’s gone! She doesn’t love you, she left and that’s it!”

“Hey!” Will begins to protest.

If they’re going to get Eleven back this isn’t helping. He watches Mike’s features twist in anguish. It’s like seeing him again for the first time, seeing the past year. Mike’s been the one closest to knowing the full story, the one sleeping in hospital chairs and pulling him back. And he’s still radioed Eleven every night. Faithfully. Mike’s dug his heels in and carried things no one should have to, standing on the fringes and desperately trying to fight his way in.

The yelling continues as the blank space in his mind opens.

Will goes for it eagerly.

She looks worse, her skin is sallow and her eyes are dark. She’s thinner too. The buzz cut is even shorter. He walks over to her and kneels down. He can hear Mike and Steve yelling at each other but it’s like it’s underwater.

“Tell them I’m sorry,” Eleven whispers, “compromise.”

“No,” Will says and she looks surprised, “no compromise. We’re coming after you. We’re not going to stop. You didn’t stop for me.”

“Hurt,” she says, “like mama.”

“They hurt your mom?” He says. She looks down, “they hurt my mom too, but she didn’t give up on me. Moms don’t give up.” He sees the doubt in her face, “Dad’s aren’t supposed to either, or friends. Mike doesn’t give up on people ever.”

“Mike,” she says like it’s hope and Will seizes the opportunity.

“Mike needs you,” he says, “you have to hold on for Mike. Mike and–and Hopper. He came to every doctors appointment I had last year, he was there. He didn’t give up on me either. He won’t give up on you.”

“I’m stuck,” she confesses finally.

“Okay,” Will says, “do you know where you’re stuck?” She thinks for a moment. Then she seems to realize something. There’s a flash in his head of numbers, a street sign and then there’s something wet and sticky under his nose and he’s standing at the radio tower, “I need a pen,” he croaks, grabbing at the numbers. He turns to the two of them, “Shut up! I need a pen!”

“Language!” Steve yells and then hands him one, “here.”

Will looks at the numbers.

“Hang on.”

Several maps later, they’re looking at a back highway, not that far from their location. They have the choice of calling their parents, getting help or going for it themselves. One look at Mike’s face tells them that car is going one place only, it’s just a question of whose driving. Steve sighs for effect and they clamber in. Will catches Mike’s eye in the mirror.

“Sorry,” Mike says quietly.

“Me too,” Will says and nudges Steve.

“I didn’t do anything!” The older boy protests, “look I’m not–just because of what happened between me and Nancy that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her. Or I don’t care about you.”

Mike looks doubtful for a moment before giving the slightest nod.

“Thanks for taking us,” Will says and Steve sighs.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

The second the van turns onto the road, he knows. He doesn’t know how, but he does. He gets that same punch feeling he did all last year. The thing that kept him going back to the radio, looking over his shoulder a bit more, reaching out. Will is down there next to him, crouched behind the side of the car. Steve is looking like he’s psyching himself up and they both not encouragingly. He puts on his best pathetic face and flings himself out to wave the car down. It tries to swerve but Steve gets in the way, forces it to stop.

“Oh thank god,” he gasps, “my car, I need a jump,” the driver says something but Steve keeps going, “please there’s no-one here for miles. I just need a jump.”

Will pulls a face but Mike’s too focused as the car comes closer.

“See this is–” Steve begins as they move to the back of the car. The van door eases open to reveal multiple slumped over bodies. But he only has eyes for one. Will takes the balled up bag of clothes as he eases the limp body from beneath the blanket. Steve’s got it stuffed so that it vaguely resembles a human shape, he swears it works. They crouch on the far side of the car, El huddled between them still unconscious. Mike can’t look, if he looks he won’t see anyone else. Won’t care about anyone else. Steve shrieks when the car starts. “Thank you! You saved me!”

The man hurries back to the van, muttering about teenagers and drives off. They scramble into the car and Steve immediately starts driving, checking the rear view mirror as they go. But the van pulls off and Steve takes the nearest exit to get them back to the highway before he floors it. Will turns towards him. He squeezes his eyes shut, not having expected any of this to happen and then forces them open again.

It takes a lot not to be sick.

She looks like she stepped out of a picture of their history textbook. There’s no color on her face. Even her lips are pale. Her hair is gone too. He remembers her clutching the wig and anger surges through him at them taking something from her. Without the blanket she’s just in a hospital gown. There’s very little of her that’s not bruised or marked. Pens, suction cups, needles–overwhelmingly its needles. Her wrists and ankles are very bruised too. His fingers touch a mark on her neck. He looks up at Will desperately who immediately scrambles for the first aide kit and starts to wrap her ankles and her wrists with ace bandages.

“She’s breathing right? Pulse?”

“Yeah,” Will confirms, “she’s just unconscious,” he grabs a wet wipe, “here,” he says. Mike looks at it, “for her face.”

The blood would be alarming if it wasn’t old. What’s new is very little, like what he’s seen before. It’s like they’ve just let her work and not bothered to let her clean up. Some of its smeared, most of its just dried there. He carefully wipes her face, leaning over her anxiously and trying to will her to wake up. He starts with her eyes, then her nose, the her ears. All the while trying not to linger on the fact that this is more the girl they found in the woods than the one who stepped into the Byer’s house. There isn’t a lot that they can do first aide wise. Can they even take her to the hospital? Doctor Owens? Mike’s head flies up as they pull up outside the Byer’s house.

“Stay here,” Steve orders all of them and runs inside. A moment later he comes out with Mrs. Byers, they floor the gas and are off.

“You did so good boys,” she says to both of them before turning to Eleven, “Sweetheart can you hear me?” She calls, but gets no response either. She smiles up at Mike but he just tightens his hold on her.

They get to a different nondescript building. He hasn’t been so relieved to see Doc Owens since Will started screaming. But something instinctual has him holding Eleven tighter, not wanting them to go. Will grabs his hand.

“They’ll help her,” he says.

“I’ll stay with her the whole time,” Mrs. Byers promises. His fingers go white knuckled as they pull her to the stretcher, “you boys stay with Steve!” She orders, running after them.

Steve grabs his other hand and pulls them inside.

He hates hospitals so much. Especially shady hospitals that aren’t really hospitals. Every move has him jumping up. Hopper shows up and blazes past them. Nancy and Jonathan do too. He won’t let go of Will or Steve. Jonathan sits on Will’s other side and Nancy kneels in front of him, putting a hand on his knee. Hopper staggers out and Mike throws them all away, jumping up, his heart pounding in his chest. Hopper comes over to the three of them.

“She’s drugged,” he rasps, “doesn’t recognize us. They think–they think they used us against her.”

Steve stares as everyone looks at him.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t even know her!”

In hindsight it’s the wrong thing to say, which is how he winds up slipping into the operating room. It’s not a pretty sight. Things are flung everywhere, tables overturned and instruments scattered. Steve tries not to think too much on the scalpels embedded in the wall. He can’t see her, but the overturned table in the corner gives him an idea of where she is, especially with the surgical drape on top of it.

“Hi, El,” he starts, “I’m Steve,” it sounds stupid even to him, “I know Nancy,” he says, “I took her to the Snowball, a few years ago, she was wearing that pink dress Mike gave you. I think Jonathan was there too, Will’s brother, I don’t think he was allowed to have his ‘I hate parties’ phase yet,” he moves towards the table, waits for a sign this is not ok, “Mike–” there’s a crack on the wall, “okay, okay, uh, I liked what you did with your hair,” he says, changing tactics, “I’m more of a high volume kind of guy but the slicked back thing worked too. How’d you like being a blonde?”

He’s made it to the table and he’s not sure if that’s good or bad. His mouth is dry as he crouches down, coming to the side that might be the front. He expects not to open the curtain but he lifts it without trouble. Looking inside at the girl who is the smallest thing he’s ever seen even though she can trash an entire hospital room by herself. And close inter dimensional gates. She’s in a ball, her head hidden in her folded arms, knees drawn up tight. He knows what he has to do and climbs into the fort with her, even though it feels like it’s a death sentence. He mirrors her posture. When she lifts her head there’s a lot of blood and her eyes look horrifying. Pupils wide and struggling to focus. She’s high out of her mind and he can’t believe someone would dope a kid like that.

“They took my hair,” she whispers tugging at her scalp, “no hair,” her face screws up, “no clothes, no Mike, no Snowball–”

“Hey, hey, okay,” he says, before the table can tremble more, “we’ve all had bad haircuts, is your hair curly?” She nods, “that’s gonna be rough but we can deal,” he fumbles in his pockets, “here,” he says handing her his sunglasses, “and, uh, here,” he rips off his jacket and holds it out to her, “clothes taken care of. You didn’t miss the Snowball,” he says and her head flies up, “but you can’t go if we’re in here. And Mike–he’s waiting out there,” he says. Hope flies into her eyes and he swears if he gets another chance he’s going at those guys with his bat, “but you gotta let the doctors look at you. So you can put the jacket on like this,” he says draping it over her shoulders, “and the doctors can still look at you.”

“Compromise,” she says.

“Compromise on the jacket,” he agrees, putting the glasses on her, “keep those on, the light’ll hurt otherwise.”

He stands up and she nudges the table out. His eyes widen as blood leaks out of her nose.

“Woah whoa stop,” he says quickly, “here, come on.”

Before he can overthink it he’s lifting her up and carrying her over the edge of the table. It’s hard to say whose more stunned at the action but he looks around for somewhere to set her down. One of the doctors opens the door. They both look and then look at each other.

“You’ve lost enough blood just hold on, there’s glass down here,” he says and carries her out. The hallway is empty, thankfully, except for the lone doctor. He sets her down gingerly, a hand lingering on her back. She winces at the cold floor and takes an unsteady step forward, “be–”

Mike’s there.

He catches her before she topples, steadying her carefully. She cringes like she’s worried for a moment, like he’s an illusion or angry at her. For all the anger he’s shown, he doesn’t pull back. He keeps his hand on her and makes sure she’s not about to fall. There’s a kind of selflessness in that you can’t fake. Not well anyway. Her lips tremble and her head dips. Even with the sunglasses he can tell she’s about to cry.

“Mike, sorry,” she chokes out, her fingers fumbling on his sweater, “sorry–”

Mike pulls her to him and she finally seems to break apart, wailing into his chest. Mike holds her closer, his hands finding the places that will hurt the least but somehow knowing what to do. She latches onto him like he’s the only real thing in the world, sobbing like her heart is breaking. He and the doctor look at each other before she slips around the corner to signal the other people to wait. The two of them wind up on the floor, Eleven still holding him. Still weeping. And Mike, Mike just lets her. Puts all his own stuff aside and puts her first. Eventually her sobs quiet and she’s just leaning against him, tremors racing along her body as she hiccups.

“Come on,” Mike says quietly and gets to his feet with her, “the doctors are gonna help you.”

She gives a little nod and they make their way to the exam room. Steve stays with them as the doctor does a few checks. Eleven closes her eyes when they start the IV and buries her face in Mike’s shoulder. They let her leave the jacket and sunglasses as they settle her into the bed. Mike sits in the chair next to it and the hold each other’s hands in a practiced gesture.

“Snowball?”

Mike looks at her and his face cracks into a wide grin, even with tears in his eyes.

“Yeah, we can go to the Snowball,” he promises, “it’s in a few weeks, do you think you’ll be ready?” She gives the slightest nod, “I didn’t go last year,” he blurts out, “I said I was sick.”

“You told me,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Mike says. One of his hands comes free and hesitates only a second before it combs over the back of her head. Eleven burrows into the pillow, tension draining from her, “still pretty,” Mike whispers.

“Bitchin,” Eleven says hoarsely.

“Bitchin,” Mike agrees.

[thesarcasticside]

Millennia-00010101

Space au starring Virgil, a succulent from outer space.  

Characters: Roman, Virgil

Warnings: Swearing, some fear, the words dagger and cop are used

AO3     Chapter 1  Previous Chapter  Next Chapter  

00010101

A sharp headache swarmed around Virgil’s head like planetary rings. The bright white of the ship’s control room prickled at his senses. He swept his roots across the control panel, looked out at the expansive sky surrounding the docked ship, and decided he would not be missed.

Dei’dra was already inside the large building in the center of the city. Virgil could not quite recall what sort of conference this was, though he was sure it was actually very reputable; it was hosted by a very famous cosmic entity, though what he was called by humans he could not quite remember, something about some old human mythological figure maybe.

Virgil knew he would not be able to leave the ship, but he could at least exit it. He did not exit through the main entrance. Instead, he climbed up through some maintenance hatch on the very top. It was a difficult climb, but that was a good distraction from the swarm inside his mind. Placing his hand onto the hatch, he unlocked it and pushed it open, arms shaking from the strain. Wind gushed through him, pushing him aside and dispersing into the ship.

The sunlight hit his face; instantly the debris swept away from his mind and a heavy weight slid off his shoulders like a pebble rain draining down his body. Still, a small dagger remained at the front of his mind, as his eyes twitched open and closed, and a low drumming held the back of his head. He climbed out of the hatch fully and laid himself down on top of the ship, letting his fuchsia beams dim and his mind wander far from him.

The surface of the ship thundered as it shook under the weight of footsteps. Virgil shot upwards, as if he never slept at all, and searched for the source of the vibrations. He tilted his head up and saw a tall pale figure standing over him.

Virgil scanned him over quickly, noting his near translucent white skin freckled in soft pink spots, his dark monolid eyes, and a crown of external frilly gills surrounding his face like a mop of curly ginger hair. He wore a long and flowy garment with a red sash diagonal across his chest. He stood as he was floating in water. His eyes glared at him as if trying to be stern, but his features to Virgil were neither fierce nor intimidating.

“Hey! You there! What are you doing?” The man said, as his face fell at the end of his sentence, unsure if this was his place.

“I’m minding my own business. What are you doing?”

The man looked back at the ship he was standing on. Head down, the frills on his head shivering like a gust of wind blew through them. Eyebrows furrowed—was he worried about something? Someone?—Eyes dark amidst his pale skin, the ghosts of veins tracing his face. The man stretched his back up, chin placed up higher.

“I am Roman, Prince of Rhodorium,” Roman decided to restart. Be polite. Be courteous. Be firm. “and you are trespassing on top of private property inside a restricted parking area.” Explain yourself. He cannot misunderstand. “I will need to see your identification, as I must escort you to the guard station!”

He was allowed to—no, it was his duty to do this. This person is trespassing. He is supposed to protect the conference. This person is trespassing. That was what he was told to do.

Virgil deflated slightly and dug into his hoodie, searching for his identification card. When he found it within the 6-inch depths, he handed it over to ‘Roman.’ “I’m one of Dei’dra’s comps,” Virgil’s voice dug deeply into the air, “Just getting some fresh air.”

Roman looked over the card carefully, “ANX?” Roman looked at Virgil closely, lingering on his grey hoodie and decaying vines swept over one of his eyes. “Haha, nice try. Trying to disguise yourself as an android to get a free ride, oldest trick in the book.” Roman reached for one of Virgil’s limbs, “You’re going to have to come with me.”

Virgil shuffled away from him. He tried to say something to correct him, but even Virgil could not make out what he tried to say.

“Hey now, if you are really that desperate for a ride, I am sure we could figure something out. I really wouldn’t have picked his ship if I were you. There are a lot of bad rumors going around about this lady and her company.”

It took a lot of force for Virgil to stop himself from shaking. What if Virgil just told this guy what was going on? He looked like some sort of space cop or something. If Virgil just spilled his guts, poured his heart out, wrote out every secret Dei’dra held, what would happen then? It was as if his throat was going to burst.

He hung his head low, softly like a snowdrop. In a deep static-y rumble, Virgil said “whatever rumors you’ve heard, there’s probably truth in them.”

“Uh… What?”

“She’s…” Virgil could not say. He did not have the words to describe it all, to articulate what she was doing. He wanted to tell him. Oh, he wanted to tell him. Most of all, he wanted to be taken away from her.

The silence was long enough that Roman decided to continue the conversation.

“Hey, what planet are you from anyway? Are you trying to get back home? Don’t worry, people get stranded all the time. Plenty of ways to find your way back home.”

Where was Virgil from, anyway? It took him a terrifyingly long moment to remember. He could feel the soft plants and moss below him at his fingertips, soft hums and murmurs. Gentle ‘I love you’s lingered on his dull skin. It took him much too long to say “Aerth”

“Earth? The human one?” Roman asked.

“No, Aerth. That’s the Common name they gave my planet.”

“Aerth?” Roman squinted, riffling through the planetary lessons he should have paid much more attention to back when he was training to become a prince. “Aerth…” he repeated to himself, tapping his chin with his webbed fingers. A giant wave of recognition flowed through him.

Virgil flinched as Roman straightened, his body language prepping for a fight.

“How are you from Aerth!? There was a huge war there years ago and a lot of the Aerthians…” Roman looked at Virgil closely, then looked down at his feet, staring at the ship. “That! That bitch!” And Virgil was very much afraid of the giant pale man pacing and shifting his arms as if he was going to punch somebody. “The rumors are true! All this time, with no evidence to incriminate her and here you are! I need to tell Thomas right away! You! Come with me!”

While Virgil was quick, Roman caught him off guard, grabbing his arm. Though Virgil expected it to be much tighter, Roman’s grip was still inescapable. Roman almost got him off the ship before Virgil began to scream, flailing out of Roman’s grip and digging his limbs into his chest.

Roman twisted back around and saw something glow under Virgil’s clothes. Let go, Virgil fell back on his rear, the device still running its course through him. When the pain would not stop, Virgil tugged away his shirt and touched the device directly with his roots, trying to stop it from blaring.

“What the—what is that?” Roman asked, and Virgil shot his gaze up at him, the pain forcing anger into him.

“You think I wouldn’t have called in Dei’dra sooner? What do you think this is? Shit, she’ll know that I talked to you. Idiot!” He berated himself more so than anything, digging his head into his limbs, shaking. “Idiot!” He sobbed again.

Roman kneeled down and held the end of one of his limbs firmly, a comforting pressure. Virgil could sense a soft determination, hope of some sort.

“Anx, I am so sorry. I got carried away. I did not realize—but worry not, brave knight, I will bring you justice. Just you wait. But to do so, I will need your help. If I cannot bring you to safety, I will bring safety to you. I need evidence to incriminate her. Is there any lead you could give me? Anything at all that you can do before we must part ways… temporarily?”

It was as if Virgil was able to slow time at will, stuck in a trance, staring into Roman’s dark colored eyes. He could feel the pain numb, receding like ocean waves on the shore. The hustle and bustle of the city faded in a soft crashing buzz as Virgil studied every spec, every pixel, every splotch of color on Roman’s face. So carefully he looked, he could paint this exact moment. Yet as it became sewed into his eyes, he found that to ever carve it out of his chest and onto paper would be too painful to bear. Here Roman was, leaning towards him, offering him a hand, an escape.

It was like he was bathing in pure sunlight.

Overwhelmed, Virgil swiped the hand away as he scooched backwards towards the ship’s hatch. Roman frowned, and Virgil found that terrifying.

“Find Logan Craeft—he’s a graduate intern working for her. He’ll… He’ll get you in. I can… I can try and get you your evidence. I know her network inside and out. I have been trying to find a way to expose her. I just need more time.”

Roman lowered his head. He gently reached out his hand again. Virgil, reluctantly, delicately set some roots bundled together into Roman’s palm, like a bouquet of wilted flowers. Roman touched Virgil’s ‘hand’ gently to his forehead. Virgil, confused, did not understand the significance of such a gesture to Roman.

“Don’t worry; I will save you and everyone else she has hurt and taken from their homes.” And Roman retreated, nodding his head in goodbye. His dark eyes dragged Virgil’s soul with him as Roman turned around and left.

When Roman faded from view, Virgil felt like he was floating. Everything felt unreal, and Virgil dared not let any negative thoughts come closer. For once in this life, Virgil dared to hope, dared to believe that he could trust, and dared to feel something in his chest for another being that was so potent that Virgil felt like he was going to die.

Virgil stared at the hatch. He felt rooted in place, glued to the roof of the ship. Never had residing in Dei’dra’s company felt so appalling—because now he had a taste of sunlight and the thought in his mind that this was not how things ought to be.

It took him forever to do so, but Virgil entered the ship again.

[sing-swan-spring-swan]

color me complicated

part two of the “color me in” series

A sequel to color me colorblind, in which Fitz and Dex meet up at a bagel shop and everything is awkward and awful, until it isn’t. Involving copious amounts of boys being stupid, and rain,

Fitz prided himself on being timely; the minutes on his watch flashed 3:30 just as he stopped in front of Starkflower. He generally took his bike to school, but Biana had something to do earlier that morning, which meant his parents had dropped him off. That meant he’d had to walk, which took longer, but Fitz wasn’t going to miss this chance. When the last school bell rang, Fitz had immediately grabbed his stuff and rushed off campus to ensure he wouldn't be late. It was just polite, after all. Of course, he spent the rest of the way there trying to convince himself it had nothing to do with the fluttering feeling in his chest—thank you, foolish heart—but that was entirely irrelevant. He was here, at Starkflower, he was on time, and best of all, he’d managed to avoid getting rained on by the gray clouds overhead. There was going to be a rainstorm, he was sure, but he could deal with that later. Along with any odd fluttering feelings.

The door swung open easily, and Fitz was instantly draped in the smell of baking bread (or bagels, as it might be) and the scent of what was likely wood smoke from the ovens. From his left, Fitz caught a different smell: a whiff of sugar from Ripplefluffs, the next-door cupcake shop. It was separated from Starkflower by a wrought-iron divider, patterned with vines, but the two shops were partnered together.  He’d never been in either shop before; he’d often imagined what it would be like inside. Unfortunately, there had always been some other commitment or place to be. Still, the place felt like home, almost: warm, cozy, and comfortable, as if he’d been there thousands of times and the bakery was just welcoming him back. There was just one thing he couldn't see: Dex.

Fitz assumed that, for most people, Dex would be easy to spot, more or less. Red hair stood out, even if it was just strawberry blond. Fitz, on the other hand, couldn't see red, so there was a chance he'd just missed Dex's face. It was, admittedly, a small chance—there were no more than 20 people in the small shop altogether, and even that was pushing it. Still, he scanned the people again, searching for blue eyes and freckles. Some part of him knew it was pointless; Dex obviously wasn't there. Then again, that didn't mean Fitz couldn't deny that fact for as long as possible. Even if ‘as long as possible’ was only a few more minutes, as he ran his eyes over the other patrons one last time.

So Dex wasn't there. As much as he wanted to stay in denial, Fitz had to accept that. But just because he wasn't there now didn't mean Dex hadn't been here earlier. Maybe he'd written the wrong time on the note. Maybe he'd come in earlier, and then left when he couldn't find Fitz. Maybe he'd just needed to rush out for a moment and he'd left a note saying that he'd be back soon. Fitz just had to find someone who'd been here for a while, most likely an employee, and then he could ask them. If Dex had come in, Fitz was certain almost everyone would have seen him, working color rods or not; it was hard to miss a not-too-quiet, occasionally distracted boy with a tendency to bump into things and stunning blue eyes—aaand focusing. Fitz’s entirely unrequited crush on Dex had no bearing on anything happening right now, at all. He just had to find a cashier who hopefully didn’t look too busy, without getting distracted by annoyingly gay thoughts.

A short, matronly woman stood to his right. She had an apron tied around her waist and long gray hair done in a braid that fell to her hips. The woman, who appeared to be the manager, was telling a customer for what must have been at least the third time that no, they didn’t have any more stew, they’re very sorry, if you’d like to come back tomorrow we’ll have a fresh batch then, miss. Fitz thought she had near saint-like patience; despite the obstinate customer, she hadn’t raised her voice or gotten angry. Despite that, Fitz could see the beginnings of exasperation pricking at the corners of her eyes, so he thought maybe if he gave her a way out, she'd tell him about Dex. Besides, she seemed nice enough. Fitz headed over.

"Pardon me, ma'am?"

The woman glanced over, and he caught a flash of relief before she turned back to the customer.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I must get back to my other customers, thank you."

Without waiting for a response, the woman turned around, braid swinging, hooked her arm around Fitz's, and guided him over to the other side of the shop, near the divider.

"Thank you for the escape, child," she said, releasing his arm and dusting infinitesimal particles off her apron. "Now, what did you need?"

Fitz, who had been caught off guard by her reaction, took a few seconds before he answered.

"Um, I'm looking for someone. His name is Dex?"

"Dex? Red hair, freckles, blue eyes?"

"Er—yes." Fitz wanted to ask how she knew Dex but didn't really want to get off-topic. Dex's personal life was none of his business either way.

"Unfortunately, I haven't seen him today. You must be Fitz, then?"

Alright, now he really was curious, and perhaps a little suspicious too. Who was this woman, who somehow knew both Dex and him, especially since he'd never seen her before?

"Yeah, my name is Fitz. How did you know? And how do you know Dex?"

"He's a regular here," she said, as if this were information everybody knew, "and he talks about you."

Oh. So that was how.

Fitz almost couldn't believe her. Dex hated him with a vengeance; why would he ever spend any time thinking about Fitz, aside from when they were forced to interact? But then, if Dex really hated him, why had the boy invited him over to Starkflower at all? All of it was far too complicated for a Tuesday afternoon, and Fitz would much rather not deal with it. He was just about ready to leave when behind him, the woman spoke.

"You make a very cute couple. It reminds me of Lilli and me, when we were girlfriends."

Fitz whirled around, shocked.

"I—He—We're not dating!"

She looked at him quizzically, as if to say Really? I was so certain you were.

"It was just—I needed some help on my homework—Dex hates me—we would never—"

"You're rambling."

"Dex and I are not, nor will we ever be, dating." Fitz finished emphatically. He couldn’t make his feelings go away through brute force, but perhaps if he tried he could at least make them a bit less obvious; hopefully, that would also convince this woman Dex wasn’t dating him. Fitz didn’t stand a chance with Dex, no matter how much he liked him, and he didn’t particularly want to be reminded.

"Alright, child." It was placating. Fitz would feel mildly insulted if she wasn't being so nice about it. "Here." She snatched a bagel from the shelves. "On the house. Go sit down, Dex should be in soon."

“I—”

The woman pushed the bagel into his hand.

"Take it."

“I—ma’am?”

“No need for the formalities. Call me Calla. Now go, find a table before they’re all gone.”

Fitz bobbed his head silently. Then, trying to reclaim his wayward thoughts, he claimed a nearby table and prepared to wait.

Dex knew he was late.

In his defense, it wasn’t really his fault. He couldn’t have known that Mr. Bronte would have pulled him into an entirely unplanned meeting about his Comp Sci project. There was a super cool tech program at Foxfire, and Dex had longed to get in since he’d enrolled. However, every student who wanted to get into the program had to create and present a tech project, whether it was software, hardware, or both. Dex was making a more efficient way to organize school records, and he was proud of it. It was good; he deserved to be proud of it. But Mr. Bronte didn’t see it that way.

He doesn't really think it's good enough either, but he's not getting into that now.

So, he was late because apparently an A- in English was ‘concerning’—he knew he had to do better, but once again, not getting into that—and now he had to rush. Dex snatched his stuff and careened out of the school gates, heading for Starkflower.

He'd already been horrible to Fitz earlier because of the whole colorblindness thing in chemistry. Standing him up would seem a little extra cruel, especially since Fitz already thought he was an insensitive prick.

Not that he could stand Fitz up anyway. Because this wasn't a date. So he couldn't stand Fitz up, because this was not a date where people could stand other people up or anything.

Point was, he was late and that was rude. No matter what he felt about Fitz, Dex couldn't just keep him waiting. He had to hurry, if he didn't want to be later than he already was.

If he'd checked his watch, Dex might have seen that he was only ten minutes late, more or less. Even still, the talk with Bronte had already felt like hours, and he didn't have a sense of time anyway. For all he knew, Fitz had already left.

Wait.

Dex skidded to a stop in front of Starkflower, a sudden realization hitting him. Fitz probably had already left. There was no reason for the other boy to believe anything good about Dex. He'd been incredibly rude since they'd met.  So when he hadn't shown up, there was no reason for Fitz to believe he was coming. Actually, Fitz probably thought Dex had played a really cruel prank on him. But then, should he even bother going in? Maybe if he just left now, he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt. Dex knew it wasn't the right thing to do. But it was easier, and Dex was tempted.

And then the weather chose for him. The gray clouds hovering above had finally decided to rain. Dex felt one drop, then another, and then suddenly it was pouring. All his thoughts were abandoned in favor of not getting soaked, and he ducked into Starkflower to avoid the storm.

The bell chimed as he swung open the door. Instantly, he was surrounded by warmth. Smells of baking bread permeated the air. Dex felt himself relax. He was in Starkflower: familiar, comfortable, and safe. That was when he heard it.

"Dex!"

And oh, he knew that voice, and oh, he was in trouble. Dex whirled around to see Fitz, seated at one of the nearby tables with his laptop out. Fitz looked at him as if the other boy had always expected him to be there, and it was a shock, yeah, but also kind of nice.

"Fitz?" Dex's disbelief colored his voice. He regretted it immediately when hurt flashed over Fitz's face.

"Did you not want me here?"

"No, I—I was surprised you waited. I haven't really given you a reason to believe in me."

Fitz visibly brightened, smiling.

Oh wow, he's really cute—no. Stop it, Dex thought. He'd had one barely-even-decent interaction with the boy and the minor knot of feelings in his chest had already spiraled into a massive crush, which would almost certainly go unreturned. What was he doing? Why was he doing this? And most importantly, why couldn't he stop?

He was pulled out of his slightly panicked questioning when he heard Fitz.

"Dex?"

"Oh, yeah."

He pulled up a chair and sat down. Fitz didn't move. There was a moment of silence where neither of them knew what to say. Dex was starting to fidget uncomfortably when Fitz asked, "Aren't you going to get your laptop?"

"I, uh, don't have a laptop," Dex responded. It was kind of embarrassing, but his family didn't have money to spare and he wouldn't ask that of them.

There's more silence. He was definitely fidgeting now, fiddling with his thumbs like that would help anything.

"Uh, sorry?" Fitz said.

"Sorry for what?" Dex responded, and maybe the words came out too harsh or Fitz was just embarrassed, but Dex knew he'd said something wrong when Fitz abruptly stared down and didn't look back up.

They were back to silence. Dex wished he knew what to say or what to do and he honestly wished he could do anything at all, but he felt frozen. Guilt, anxiety, and completely misplaced affection tangled in his chest, and the mess they made was strangling him. He had to apologize for what he'd done earlier; that was why he'd originally invited Fitz over here. But how was he supposed to do that, when every time he met Fitz's eyes, his brain got sidetracked with a useless crush? It was completely unhelpful!

Okay, understatement of the century there, but at this point Dex would have settled for anything.

"So, um, science?" he said, grasping at anything to break the silence. Apparently, anything even included homework.

"Science," Fitz replied, with audible relief.

He pulled up the website on his laptop, and then Dex remembered.

"Do you, uh, um, mind if I, uh—"

"Oh, um, yes, sure, no, I mean, go ahead."

Dex nearly groaned out loud. He was never going to get through this. At least, not with his sanity intact. Fitz scrolled down to the first picture, where a deep red flame was burning.

"Dark yellow?" Fitz guessed, leaning in closer as if that would help him see the color. Their shoulders brushed, and Dex's breath caught in his throat. There was electricity was running through his veins, and the feeling terrified him.

"Dark red," Dex corrected, pulling back as quickly as he could. His voice was thick, choked up, and doing nothing to convince Fitz he wasn't in love. When Dex glanced up, though, he saw nothing but confusion and what almost seemed like betrayal. He hadn't been expecting either of those. But what he focused on were Fitz's eyes. They sparkled, like crystals caught in the light. It felt like Fitz was looking into Dex's soul, and it scared him but he never wanted it to stop. Dex wanted to know the person behind those eyes He wanted to do things like take that person out for coffee, or buy him flowers, or—

He looked away.

Yeah, he was never going to get through this.

Fitz cleared his throat. "Next?"

"Mhm, yeah, sure," Dex said, staring intently at the paper, even though he already had his answer written down.

Fitz scrolled down again, except this time, Dex knew better. He made sure that they never touched, and definitely never made eye contact. If he wanted the slightest chance of surviving this, he would have to make sure his crush didn't interfere.

Fitz wanted to scream.

Dex wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t even meet Fitz’s eyes. What had he done wrong? Was it because he’d been insensitive? It was because he’d been insensitive, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t have assumed. How was he going to fix this?

How could he fix this, when Dex wouldn’t even look at him?

Fitz didn’t know what he was supposed to do. The only thing he could think of was to bury his head even deeper in their chemistry homework. But, of course, he couldn’t do that without Dex either, so Fitz was stuck in this awkward game of avoidance. Tension hung thick in the air, and it was stifling.

If he were anyone else, he might have been able to handle it. Fitz was sure even Sophie, the most oblivious person Fitz had ever met—seriously, how had she and Keefe managed to miss their feelings about each other—would be able to manage this better. Then again, Sophie was so unperceptive she might have missed the awkwardness entirely, which wasn’t really a solution so much as it was a bigger problem. Keefe, on the other hand, would have made a joke about how “it looks like we’ve got . . . chemistry” or some other equally blatant pickup line.

Unfortunately, Fitz wasn’t clueless enough for Sophie’s solution, nor was he reckless enough for Keefe’s. His solution wasn’t really a solution, just more of the same: focus on your work and pretend nothing was there. It wouldn’t work for long, and it didn’t actually solve anything, but it was the best thing Fitz could come up with.

Dex, however, was making that solution especially hard.

Every time Fitz leaned over to check his answers, Dex leaned away. Every time Fitz leaned in to move to the next picture, Dex pulled back. It was as if Fitz had strep throat or another incredibly contagious disease. He’d thought the two of them had gotten over their animosity. Dex didn’t still hate him. Did he? No, he’d been through this train of thought already and it wouldn’t get him any more answers. Fitz just had to finish this. They were on their last problem either way, so it wouldn’t be long. Fitz stared at the image, and saw what looked gray-yellow to him. Although, it could have been green, red, or actually gray-yellow.

“Green,” Dex told him.

Boron, Fitz wrote.

There was silence.

Fitz didn’t want to leave now. He felt like he couldn’t; there was too much left unsaid. But Dex was already putting his papers away and if he didn’t say something, Dex would leave and nothing would ever be solved. Fitz had to say something.

So he did.

“Dex?”

Dex stiffens.

"Yeah?"

"I know—" Fitz cuts off, lost. There's a pause.

"You know what?"

And it’s like those words break his brain-to-mouth filter because suddenly words are spilling out of him and he can't seem to stop talking.

"I know you don't like me, alright? And I'm sorry for whatever I've done to you that made you hate me like this, but I thought we were over that. I thought we could be friends. You brought me here. And now you're back to actively avoiding me. Why did you tell me to come here? Did you just want to say "oh, sorry, that thing in chem was a fluke and I actually still hate you”? I can't even lean closer to my laptop without you pulling away. I don't understand, Dex."

Fitz took a shuddering breath, reined his emotions back in, but he had one more thing to say.

"You won't even look me in the eye."

And he was done. He'd said everything. Whether he got answers or not, this was in Dex's hands now. To be honest, he wasn't really expecting answers. Dex would probably get defensive, or just leave. But what happened next was neither of those things.

"You have pretty eyes."

Wait. What?

Had—he heard that right?

"I have pretty eyes. You think I have pretty eyes." Fitz sounded like a broken robot, but he was dumbfounded, and he needed a little clarification.

Dex mouthed wordlessly for a second, before shrugging, helpless.

"Yeah."

"I—is this why you've been—"

"Yeah."

"So, you—do you really?"

"Uh, yeah."

They fell back into silence. Fitz knew he had to respond somehow, but—how? All his feelings were coming to the surface, and he couldn't deal with any of them. As he stared blankly, searching for words, Dex shouldered his backpack.

"I'm sorry. I'll go." Dex said, and turned away.

"Wait, no." The words near burst out from Fitz. He couldn't remember thinking them, or taking a step forward, for that matter. But he was here now, staring at Dex's back and knowing in his bones that he was not willing to lose this whatever-it-may-be, this might-be-something, this chance. Fitz took a deep breath, scraped up whatever confidence he could, and called on his inner Keefe.

"I think you have pretty eyes too."

Dex turned back to him at that and blinked once, twice. Then, of all things, he started laughing. For a moment, Fitz thought Dex had gone insane. “I don’t see what’s so funny?”

More laughter.

“Dex, are you alright?”

Dex raised his hand in the universal sign for "give me a second" as he tried to get himself under control.

"It's just," more laughing, "that's the best you can come up with?"

Alright, that stung a little.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not eloquent enough for you."

"No, I didn't mean that," Dex said, still snickering. "But this is such a mess.  I hated you for more than a year because I thought you hated me, and I've been awkwardly avoiding you this whole time because I'd just found out you didn't hate me and I was sure you would if you found out I had a massive crush on you, and I wasn't expecting this. And, I mean, now—" Dex gestured in front of him, as if to indicate everything, and started laughing again.

And well, when Dex put it like that, it was kind of funny. Fitz found himself smiling, and then chuckling, and then laughing right along with Dex at the absurdity of the situation. The rain was pounding at the walls and people were starting to give them looks, but they didn't care. For now, it was just them, in the corner of Starkflower, laughing at the sheer weirdness of the world.

(And if Lilli came in just at that moment with a kiss for Calla and a tray of free cupcakes from Ripplefluffs, drawing the attention away from the two boys in the corner because she and Calla knew just how long Dex had been pining, well, they could thank her later.)

It took forever for Dex to finally stop laughing. Every time he got close, he'd look at Fitz and remember, well, everything. That would start it all over again, and it would be at least another minute before he could even begin to calm down. It was a vicious cycle, but eventually he did manage to breathe, and they tried to get back to work.

Fitz remembered he had a bagel, which was cold but still good, so Dex cut it in half and Fitz took one. Chocolate chip bagels were Dex's favorite, and the fact that Fitz just so happened to have one wasn't lost on him. It especially wasn't lost on him when he went to go get cream cheese and Calla winked at him. Still, even meddling bagel shop owners couldn't change the fact that Dex wasn't done with his science homework, thanks to analysis questions. He'd planned to leave once they'd finished the actual image part of their science homework, but this storm and his lack of an umbrella gave him some extra time here, so he might as well use it. And besides, he probably should have been thankful. Calla and her wife had probably had a pretty big hand in this, whatever this was. He still wasn't going to call it a date, but Fitz liked him, actually liked him back, despite everything. Dex felt like he could do the impossible, like defy gravity or fly to Saturn or kiss—

Anyway. Homework.

He wouldn't get much done though because, a few minutes into question one, Dex realized something.

"Wait."

"What is it?" asked Fitz.

Dex stared at him, stunned.

"Did Mr. Leto know?"

Blood rushed to Fitz's face and Dex's jaw dropped. He'd been right.

"He did know! That was why we got paired for every single project in English that year!"

Fitz looked mortified, and Dex wondered if he'd done something wrong.

Then Fitz muttered, "I may or may not have written a poem about your eyes. He came to his own conclusions."

"That was about me?"

Dex was honored. He remembered that poem; everyone in their class did. It was maybe the best piece of writing that had ever come out of a 9th grade English course. Knowing that the mysterious blue-eyed person had been him—well, it was nice.

Fitz, who was growing more embarrassed by the second, finally sputtered, "Well, it's not like I'm the only one who was found out!"

Dex wanted to say “yeah, you were the only one,” and hide all his awkward stories about Biana trying to matchmake— for someone so decidedly single, that girl could spot a crush a mile away. Even still, fair was fair, so Dex inhaled through his teeth and said, "Biana tried to set us up once."

Fitz stared, all prior embarrassment forgotten (although his cheeks were still a little flushed and Dex found it infuriatingly cute).

"My sister did what?"

"Well . . ."

And so Dex told his story. And then Fitz told another one, and Dex told another one, and by the time they realized what time it was, it was already 5:15. If Dex didn't go now the late bus would leave without him, and he'd end up having to sleep at school. Unfortunately, the rain hadn't let up at all. If anything, it had gotten harder, and Dex still didn't have an umbrella. He was going to get soaked, but he didn't really have any other choice. Dex swept his things into his backpack, stuffed his sweater on top for some meager protection against the rain, and prepared to be drenched.

As he headed for the door, Fitz caught his hand.

"What are you doing? It's still raining outside, you'll get wet."

Dex shrugged and pointed to the clock.

"My bus leaves at 5:30, raining or not. I can't really wait."

"But it's pouring! You don't have anything to protect you?"

"In my defense, the weather forecast said nothing about rain. Besides, you don't have anything either, do you?"

Fitz didn't reply to that, but he didn't have to. His wince was answer enough.

Behind them, someone coughed politely, and Dex looked over to see Calla, holding a brightly patterned umbrella.

"If you need an umbrella, I can lend you mine and use Lilli's, but we've only got the one."

Oh, thank goodness, Dex thought. "I could kiss you right now," Dex blurted out, before realizing what he'd said. "Um, I mean—" Fitz cut him off and Dex had never been more grateful. "We'll take it, thank you." Calla smirked and handed Dex the umbrella. "Have a nice walk, you two." Heat rushed to his face, and the ground suddenly grew very interesting. Dex was intently studying the pattern in the wood when Fitz laid a hand on his arm. "So, I'll get my stuff?" "Yeah, sure," Dex responded.

He watched blankly as Fitz scooped up his backpack. The other boy headed to the door, sweeping it open and bowing dramatically.

“My lord,” he said, grinning, and suddenly all the awkwardness in the air was gone, like a breeze had blown the clouds away. Dex bit his tongue to hold back his laughter and tilted his head up imperiously.

“Your services are appreciated,” he replied, striding through the doorway and opening the umbrella. Rain pattered down on everything, tapping a drumbeat on Calla’s umbrella. Dex smiled back at Fitz.

“You coming?”

They walked back in silence, but it was companionable silence, the kind that hung easy between them. The quiet tranquility wrapped around Fitz like a warm blanket, and he reveled in the feeling of being there, with Dex, who against all odds actually liked him back. He would think he was dreaming, but even his dreams couldn’t come up with something like this.

It was cheesy to even think it, but there was nowhere else Fitz would rather have been. It felt as if he could stay there forever, in this moment, with rain tumbling down all around them and Dex's hand in his. Time might have been frozen, held in limbo, forever floating in a little street a few minutes from Foxfire, with two boys holding hands under a brightly patterned umbrella.

Of course, time wasn't frozen and they couldn't stay there forever. The campus was just up ahead, and Fitz could already see people getting on the bus. Dex had to leave or he'd miss his ride home. That didn't mean Fitz wanted him to go.

"I have to . . ." Dex trailed off, but he made no move to let go. Fitz squeezed his hand.

"Here, take the umbrella. You'll need to give it back to Calla later." Fitz pushed the handle towards Dex, who released his grasp on Fitz's hand to grab it. Something small and petty inside him whined at the loss. Fitz ignored it.

"But, aren't you gonna—" Dex gestured to him vaguely. "You know?"

Fitz was about to say something like "No, I'll be fine" or "Don't worry about me," but Dex was standing there looking at him, worry and concern and something else in his eyes. Fitz stared at those eyes, bright blue eyes, truly blue eyes—he was so uncertain of color most of the time but he knew, deep in his bones, those eyes were blue—and he chose to believe that something was the same warmth he'd been holding in his chest this entire time.

They were inches apart.

Maybe it was bravery. Maybe it was only sheer recklessness. Maybe it was the fact that Fitz was a hopeless romantic who'd always longed to kiss someone in the rain.

But whatever it was, it was what pushed Fitz to lean down those last few inches and softly, gently, touch his lips to Dex's.

The world glowed. That was the only way Fitz could explain what kissing Dex felt like. He'd imagined it thousands of times, but nothing compared to this. Nothing even came close. This was something entirely new and different and wonderful. This was everything turning into light, bright as sunrise, and all around him the taste of Dex’s lips on his, the feel of Dex's hand in his hair, the sense of Dex whirling and growing and surrounding him.

When they broke apart, Dex was staring at him like there was nothing and no one else in the world.

“So.” Fitz cleared his throat. “Are we, um, dating now?”

The blinding smile Dex gave him when he said yes was the most beautiful thing Fitz had ever seen.

(He would come up with an explanation for Biana later, as to why he was soaking wet. For now, though, he would simply stare as Dex ran to the bus, still awed by his wonderful, amazing, magnificent boyfriend, and so, so very much in love.)

[theliterateape]

Validation by Exaggerating Harm is Straight Out of the Propagandist Playbook

By Don Hall

I was told that she had fallen during the graveyard shift (10 p.m. – 6 a.m.) and face-planted into the asphalt. That she refused medical attention despite her face being a bit mangled, and that she had been sitting in the Denny’s for several hours. I was also told that she needed to check out of her room in the next hour or she would be evicted unless she paid for another night.

It was also apparent that both Security and the outshift manager had had enough of her. My heart went out to her as this was just not her night.

I see her sitting in a booth, gingerly sipping at a milkshake. She resembles a matronly librarian. She is surrounded by several bags and a large purse. The left side of her face is swollen, her bottom lip is huge and she has a contusion on the bridge of her nose. Both eyes are black.

I introduce myself and ask her if she’s alright and if there’s anything I can do for her before she checks out of her room (my attempt to be kind while still emphasizing that she has to leave or be escorted off the property). She quietly begins explaining what happened and how insensitive the security staff was, how horrible the Denny’s waitress was, how awful the hotel manager had been to her. It’s her birthday, she informs me. Her bruised eyes well up with tears as she speaks and her hands shake. She tells me that she is an author and shows me a photo on her phone of her at a book signing. Her husband is an astro-physicist and she is in Las Vegas for business. She has no vehicle and isn’t sure what to do. 

“Okay. Helen? Let me go and see if we can extend the check out time and if you’d like a meal instead of a milkshake, I’m glad to take care of that for...”

“I’m not feeling very well,” she interrupts. “I have a form of epilepsy and my medication isn’t reacting well to the trauma of the fall. Last year I had a tumble and felt the same way. My husband...” and she continues to softly drone on in a manner that prevents me from exiting the conversation without being rude. I stand up and slowly start to back away because I have work to do and need to see the hotel manager about her potential eviction.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Helen.” I turn to the waitress. “Please take care of anything she needs and I’m happy to comp it.” And I head back to the casino.

✶

I’ve done quite a bit of pruning from my social media outlets. Recently I culled my Facebook friends from nearly 4,000 to less than 500 in part because there were so many on there I couldn’t recall ever meeting or corresponding with and in part because the increased intensity of rhetoric from both the Alt Right and the Woke online was making me hate humanity and pushing me further toward the political center than I like.

This did not, however, prevent me from landing upon the #TalesfromHisShadowat16thStreet thread. From what I gather an exclusively black theater company was commissioned by 16th Street Theater Artistic Director Ann Filmer to do a show and had a less than ideal experience with their production.

Among their difficulties was an uncertain comp policy, poor communication about the extension, a series of parking tickets issued by the City, and someone calling the police on the audience from the theater. Remember that the Chicago Theater Community is now populated with the Woke and a small army of Self-Loathing White People (although they don’t so much loathe themselves as much as white people in general) so it would not be appropriate to place blame on their woes on disorganization, the city’s near constant state of revenue via parking tickets, or a random asshole deciding that 911 was the call to make for some random reason. No, it all boils down to Filmer’s apparent racism.

If you’d ever spent fifteen minutes with Filmer you’d know how silly and childishly destructive is this rationale.

✶

By the time I return to Helen, she has eaten a small meal but is now slightly sick. She needs a wheelchair to go to her room to retrieve her belongings before checking out and, while she suddenly feels the need to vomit the food she just ate, she can’t walk the twenty feet to the bathroom to do so. I grab her a Denny’s bag and help her around the corner a few feet where she barfs in the bag, returns to her seat, and I dispose of the bag. She also wants to be transported to a nearby emergency room due to her epilepsy and weakness.

Each time I check in on Helen it is like walking into one of those old jungle movies with the quicksand pits. She has been so maligned in the past eight hours that a genuine gesture of kindness and respect is grabbed onto like a vine from above.

✶

Goebbels is known for the statement “If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it.” The complement to this idea is that if you exaggerate the harm enough, people will take the offense more seriously. 

Take Donald Trump for example. His language choices are intentionally hyperbolic. He routinely elevates perceived enemies into traitors to the State and rants on and on about witch hunts and lynchings. The Left takes the bait and wastes time arguing the semantics of his grievances (“Witch Hunts are against women!”) and the Right buys into the faux seriousness of them and responds in outrage.

It doesn’t help that the Left elevates his discourse as assault and his rhetoric as violence. These concepts are simply ridiculous and even the dumbest of his supporters can see that.

Does anyone really believe that the police shooting 700 people (most of them white) is an “epidemic of police violence”? The very definition of “epidemic” includes the idea that it is widespread. Seven hundred out of 350 million people is hardly widespread.

Is it at all reasonable to consider the decision for people to boycott the stand up comedy of Louis CK and the destruction of his career? The guy is still making a better living that 95 percent of the country, right?

Are comments and questions about gender or race genuine aggressions or simple curiosity and is there actually violence involved? If it is true that words are the same as violence can I press charges against the guy who flipped me off and called me an asshole for taking too long to turn left last week? Can the smirking MAGA hat kid sue thousands of Twitter bullies? Should Trump be impeached for saying shitty things about, well, everyone?

✶

It turns out that in order to help Helen go to a medical facility, it is the strict policy of the casino to call paramedics despite her desire to simply get cab fare. I ask her if that is okay with her and she frets a bit, complains some more about being asked to either pay for another night or leave, and finally agrees.

One of my peers pulls me aside.

“You know she’s pulled this before, right? I mean, we all appreciate you going out of your way to help her but she’s trying to work you to get something.”

“I can’t believe that,” I respond. “She really fell and was really injured and, I don’t know, when I look in her eyes as she’s telling me her story, I believe her. Maybe she’s inflated her grievances as they relate to security and hotel management but I still believe she deserves our assistance in every way.”

The paramedics arrive. As they are talking to her, she is overheard complaining that she had, in fact, been hit by a security van and wanted to press charges against the casino. She tells them that the staff refused her food or water and that she had been ignored for hours.

We don’t have a security van. And it wasn’t her birthday, either.

✶

In all of the back and forth in the #TalesfromHisShadowat16thStreet nonsense, I caught the following justification for the calling out of Filmer.

“Toxic behavior is called out so it’s amplified and people aren’t suffering alone when they choose to speak up instead of being “easy to work with.” Call outs happen as a result of dead ends. A result of communication failures over and over again.”

Like Helen, a woman who fell and wanted as much attention as she felt she deserved, the story of the company at 16th Street likely started as a simple desire to be given something more from a less than organized institution but as their demand for better organization, better communication, and easier to navigate organizational procedures were left unmet, the story became inflated. Let’s not pretend that this some sort of cry for empowerment. Let’s not pretend that this is somehow connected in any way with the longstanding legacy of racial inequality in this country. This is simply lying to get attention, exaggerating harm by using buzzwords, and hoping that solidarity will come via the internet.

Even the term toxic behavior is suspect. I find bullying someone via social media to be toxic but I’m not unloading on specific people or even naming them in this piece because I find that behavior TOXIC. See how that works, dipshits? Bullying someone, even when you think the cause for such behavior is justified, is horseshit and creates more discontent than restorative justice. Lying to exaggerate the harm, redefining what words you use to elevate that harm, all in order to get the attention so that you can get what you want makes you one of the dickheads in the equation.

No different than Helen. No different than Trump.

✶

I was thoroughly discouraged by the revelation that Helen had been grifting for attention, a comped meal, and the hope for a free night in the hotel. I felt used and betrayed by someone I didn’t know and will unlikely ever see again. There is a psychological reason for this sort of behavior:

“Histrionic personality disorder is characterized by constant attention-seeking, emotional overreaction, and seductive behavior. People with this condition tend to overdramatize situations, which may impair relationships and lead to depression. Yet they are highly suggestible, easily susceptible to the influence of others.”

This is humanity. This is now. Surrounded by histrionic personalities who now have a megaphone to the rest of the histrionic personalities. It’s a cold comfort that these raging attention-seekers represent a tiny portion of people out there because they are so loud but it is good to be reminded how few there are.

As much as I am disheartened by Helen’s lies and hyperbole, I refuse to allow her example to color my perception of others in need. Likewise, I’ll not allow the propaganda of the Woke or the Trump to draw me into a hopeless cynicism.

I will, on the other hand, be conscious of the hyperbole and conflation and recognize people so desperate for power or control or just a free room. Not distrusting but not naive, either.

[lesbianbruabba]

All of the questions 😈

Jokes on you bitch I have time since I’m waiting for drag race to air but oh my god this is gonna be long so i’ll pull an Iza and put it under a read more 

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

I don’t know

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Shy, even though I don’t feel like I am, people tell me I’m shy

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

My brother when he comes here oh my god. I miss him. I’m going to make him watch a couple crazy music videos and possibly scar him. 

@lettiehigh and @akakuro4869-blog and @rippling-waves when I get back to Hong Kong and Tiff and Bella and Karl and Ellie and Miss R and everyone else

@samrull and Lettie again and maybe @lecafenoirx if I go to Bristol in September to see flor

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I’d say so! Unless you give me a reason to dislike you lol

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Probably but that’s a stupid question since I don’t drink :)

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Kind people. Usually more on the feminine side? Even the more muscular guys that I thirst after have a few feminine traits like a higher-pitched voice.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Nope, I’m going back to Hong Kong so there’s even less chance of me being in a relationship lol

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Ryan Ross [insert tongue emoji]

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Nope. I’m usually way too open, quite a few of my friends are this way too. Literally one time my brother and I shared a hotel room and the first thing he said when my folks were out of earshot is complaining how he can’t jack off for a whole week (I asked him why he couldn’t do it in the shower, he said it was too much effort to do so standing up XD)

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Kasia or Iza about body image? define deep

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Call him or dump his useless ass?” to Lettie

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Victorious by P!atD, Dodie Clark’s cover of Somebody Else by the 1975, I Need My Girl by the National, Pożyczony by Sylwia Grzeszczak and Honey by Kehlani

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yeah! People at school used to love braiding my hair because it was so long. And I like playing with people’s hair, because I can French braid on others but I can’t do it with myself :/

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Sometimes?

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I’ll say last summer since it’s not quite summer yet now. Well, I was accepted into Edi, got a 38 on the IBDP which is not too bad, and celebrated my birthday with my squad (rip)

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Yep :)

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I fkin hope not 

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

My first actual crush or like, elementary school crush? But no on both counts

19. Do you like bubble baths?

I’ve never had one :/ I’ve never had a ~bath~ tbh. I want to try in the summer because home in Hong Kong has a bathtub. 

20. Do you like your neighbors?

I like my flatmates here, we like the same kind of porn and vines. I don’t know my neighbors well enough back home

21. What are you bad habits?

I trust too easily, I am intelligent but lazy when it comes to schoolwork (I procrastinate), I worry way too fucking much about everything, I have crushes on people that I should NOT have crushes on sometimes (see: gay men)

22. Where would you like to travel?

I answered this a while back I think but as far as I could remember it’s a lot of european places - Oslo, Aarhus (I’m going to Copenhagen!!), Moscow, Tallinn, Berlin, Lublin, Warsaw, Kraków, Gdańsk, Lyon, Lisbon, Prague, honestly just count in every capital haha. I’m not good at geography. Also, Tasmania, Tokyo, Osaka (I’ve been twice but it’s. So good), London, Glasgow are all places I’d go again. 

23. Do you have trust issues?

With my mum yeah lmao

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Talking to my friends (basically everyone I’ve tagged up there I don’t have many friends lmao)

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My thighs because they’re heavily scarred, my tummy because fat, double chin, face because weirdly big lips and weird shape and small eyes, honestly most of my body if I’m being honest, when I’m not corseted. 

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Go through tumblr, twitter, instagram, kik, snapchat, emails, facebook, usually in that order. And then maybe scroll a bit more through tumblr and drag myself awake. Brush teeth and drink juice for breakfast. 

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

My skin tone is fine. I’m kinda pale for a Chinese girl (according to others, but my skin’s gotten darker in recent years) so I sometimes have to use white people products. I only lighten my skin for doing goth-y makeup so in those instances i’d love to have lighter skin. (then again, I’m talking like...wallpaper white if possible pls)

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My friends and my brother. 

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

What exes lmao

30. Do you ever want to get married?

If it’s with the right person yeah. 

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

My hair is long enough for several pony tails

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

Men - Jawn and Ryan Ross

Women - Stephanie Beatriz and Lynn Gunn

33. Spell your name with your chin

 cbhreusftjd

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Exactly - what sports?

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

Without TV. I can’t live without music. 

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Would’ve said yes up to this morning haha

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

So, do you know what a furry is?

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Emo, responsible, kind, good sense of humor, understanding, appreciates Ryan Ross, doesn’t mind me checking my phone a lot [insert date in Hong Kong meme]

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Damaged Society for band merch, Ann Summers for lingerie, various taobao shops for lolita fashion, Restyle for corsets

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Study linguistics at university. Hey! I’m doing that!

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

No but most people do

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I don’t feel like talking/I’m depressed/I’m thinking

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Not like randomly?...

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

NEITHER I LIKE BEING SAFE OH MY GOD

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Brushing my teeth or needing to pee?

46. What are you paranoid about?

I’m paranoid that I won’t graduate uni, about not being able to find a job that I will be happy at (doesn’t have to be a dream job but I don’t want to work at something I hate like a factory), I’m paranoid that no one will ever love me esp. romantically, that my family will never accept me as a bisexual woman, that I won’t be able to migrate to the UK before I’m 30 or worse before China takes back Hong Kong in 2047 and I will be trapped in hellish censorship conservative society, that depression and anxiety will drive me to off myself before any of that could even happen

47. Have you ever been high?

Noooooooooo don’t do drugs :( I say, even though I am friends with a drug dealer lol

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Nope, alcohol tastes gross

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Recently no. But like when I was a kid yeah

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Pink!

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Every day :/

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

I want to weigh 80lbs. It’s been this stupid ‘goal’ throughout teenagehood and I know it’s stupid and unhealthy but I really want to. I don’t care if I won’t have boobs. 

53. Favourite makeup brand?

Maybelline has good concealer

54. Favourite store?

Damaged Society

55. Favourite blog?

Can’t make me pick between these two 

56. Favourite colour?

Pink

57. Favourite food? 

Tiramisu and also siu mai but only the fish ones because they taste like garlic and also calbee chips, british junk food is garbage compared to the stuff we have in hong kong (they’ve got good sweets here though)

58. Last thing you ate?

Spaghetti carbonara

59. First thing you ate this morning?

I didn’t eat today till dinner which was spaghetti carbonara

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

I got first runner up in a nationwide comp for poetry. I wrote a depressing poem that ended up with my English teacher sending a concerned email to my folks lol

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

*gasp* I am a good student

62. Been arrested? For what?

Oh my god. I’m a good girl. I’m not with that kinda shit

63. Ever been in love? 

I have fallen in love but not like...reciprocated love, no

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

Ooh this is fun. He offered to be my first kiss and I said sure and we made out and it was nice and less scary than I thought but I forgot to close my eyes

65. Are you hungry right now?

No I had too much spaghetti :(((((

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

are you calling my tumblr friends fake

But no I love them all. Also given that half of my irl friends are on tumblr idk what to say lmao

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr is the MOST SUPERIOR SOCIAL MEDIA BECAUSE IT IS TRASH

69. Are you watching tv right now?

We’d need a TV license for that. and a TV. so no

I’ve got netflix

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Lettie, Chloe, Iza, Natalie, Daniel (my brother), Karl, Bella (but she’s mad at me so idk), there’s a couple of people who I consider close friends but idk if they’re okay with me calling them my best friends

71. Craving something? What?

A GETAWAY FROM THE SMOOTH TALK THAT’S KEEPING ME GROUNDED  TO THE CARPET IN MY ROOM MY QUIET BLUE TOMB OF YOU

72. What colour are your towels?

Both purple why

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

One. Or zero if I kick it to the floor by accident. I mostly hug it.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

No :(

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

zero. I have a stuffed L Lawliet from Death Note though. It’s a present for my mum when I get home. I’ve also got a few stuffies back home courtesy of Lettie and Bella

75. Favourite animal?

Humans but I like dogs and cats and rats are kinda cute too?

76. What colour is your underwear?

Right now it’s white but I’ve got beige and grey ones I’m kinda boring

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Coffee

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

White, my waterparks shirt :)

80. What colour pants?

Blue denim shorts

81. Favourite tv show?

Drag race, b99, the good place, parks and rec, ASOUE

82. Favourite movie?

Dzien Swira it’s funny and depressing

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean girls but i’ve not seen the second one

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Mean girls, idk what the other one is

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

The nice girl

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk...the blue fish? Ellen Degeneres? 

87. First person you talked to today?

Iza

88. Last person you talked to today?

Kasia

89. Name a person you hate?

Uhhhhhhhm Doanld Trump?

90. Name a person you love?

My brother he’s so smart and creative and sweet and makes the worst puns and he loves fall out boy and tries to be an edgelord and it’s super adorable so that’s great 

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

My feelings bc they dumb

92. In a fight with someone?

Kiiiiiiiinda? More like she’s mad at me and idk what to do about it because i refuse to go to fucking london with her because international plane tickets are expensive as heck and she wants me to go in the middle of summer when i’m home

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

easy, 0

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

A Lot. Like 10. 

95. Last movie you watched?

Dzien Swira

96. Favourite actress?

Sara Canning and Stephanie Beatriz make me v gay

97. Favourite actor?

Neil Patrick Harris because Count Olaf

98. Do you tan a lot?

No lmao

99. Have any pets?

m-my brother...?

100. How are you feeling?

Impatient because drag race hasn’t aired yet. Lonely because my favorite flatmate moved out and there’s no one to chat with me at 3am anymore. Frustrated because my crush-y feelings are being dumb. Sad because my mum is kiiiiiiiiiiiinda homophobic and I imagine myself getting married to a woman not a man (it’s more likely) so :/

101. Do you type fast?

68 WPM? Is that fast?

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

I regret a lot of things. But it’s okay I’ve not turned out too bad overall considering. I’m also glad I did a lot of things, so

103. Can you spell well?

I think so yeah

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

Yes absolutely in particular one person because sometimes I regret things that I did with good intentions and never stop regretting :/

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

I’ve been to a campfire so kinda??

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Nah

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yes!! When I was a kid

108. What should you be doing?

It’s 1am so prolly sleeping but who has time for that amirite

109. Is something irritating you right now?

Yeah my mum. And my feelings

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Yes lmaoooooo don’t read me like this

111. Do you have trust issues?

This was a question up there. Why is it asked again. You’re making me have trust issues

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Ooh shit I don’t know I haven’t cried in front of people for a while mostly because I shut myself in my room but prolly my brother or my mum back home 

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Never had one (that I liked)

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

~that’s not a thing~ uwu

115. Do you play the Wii?

No my mum is against video games

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yes I’m listening to Dear Uber Driver

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

Never had it

118. Do you like Chinese food?

I like dim sum and egg tarts and a lot of HK street food so yes? 

119. Favourite book?

Suck Less by Willam

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

Sometimes, but at other times it’s oddly comforting

121. Are you mean?

:o I am the least mean person to exist 

122. Is cheating ever okay?

No unless it’s in NTAL but even then it’s like hmmmm is it tho

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Lol no

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

I think it’s possible but unlikely

125. Do you believe in true love?

Yeah I’d like to

126. Are you currently bored?

No because this is keeping me entertained until I can watch drag race

127. What makes you happy?

Talking to my friends, sending them dumb tumblr shitposts, sending my brother disturbing gifs, getting weird gifs from Chloe, thirsting over Jawn with Iza, hearing that my friends are happy, reading and sharing poetry with friends, listening to music, playing the ukulele, eating junk food and watching b99, answering tumblr asks, writing poetry, drawing

128. Would you change your name?

I don’t like Christie so yes. Would change my Chinese name too it’s too annoying to write. 

129. What your zodiac sign?

Leo//rabbit

130. Do you like subway?

No :(

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Brenda, he’s gay. Very very very gay, think a 6 on the kinsey scale

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Again. this has been asked. What kinda unprofessionalism

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

I think with my heart and love with my head

134. Can you count to one million?

I mean...in theory yes but why would I do that 

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

I told my mum I was striaght lmao

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed. What the fuck

137. How tall are you?

5′2

138. Curly or Straight hair?

I have straight hair, I want wavy hair. Or bangs. 

139. Brunette or Blonde?

I have black hair. I tend to have blondes/general bright hair as a ‘type’ when it comes to romantic affection/crushes but it’s also not v accurate

also, I want pink hair. I had a dream where my brother loved MANIA so much he dyed his hair purple

140. Summer or Winter?

WINTER. BUT WITHOUT SNOW. Summer brings out my skin problems so I have a v valid reason to hate it. Also I’m fat so my thigh chafe in summer if I walk more than an hour

141. Night or Day?

I am usually, unfortuantely, only awake at night and like maybe late afternoon. 

142. Favourite month?

I don’t have one. December I guess bc it’s acceptable to play christmas music. or June bc pride month

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Nope. I don’t love meat though. 

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Milk. With sea salt and caramel. I’m a classy hoe

145. Tea or Coffee?

Coffee. Either iced americano or some sweet frappe shit

146. Was today a good day?

Today was a very good day. I told my crush I liked her, slept away most of the day, watched a lot of brooklyn nine-nine and listened to Dodie while doing German and Polish on duolingo and I read Chloe’s poetry and it was very good. Link here. And Kasia gave me lots of good song recs. And drag race is up soon (it’s technically tomorrow but whatever). 

147. Mars or Snickers?

I can’t pick because Snickers has such a great texture, but also mars bars has the perfect nougat to caramel to chocolate ratio? Probably mars wins out by a bit

148. What’s your favourite quote?

“Hewwo” - Aquaria, RuPaul’s Drag Race

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

I’d like to think souls can see what we’re doing after they pass away.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“Adjective opposites and their comparatives” from a Polish grammar book.

Thank you for this long ass ask 

drag race still hasn’t fucking aired so i’m gonna watch more b99 and drink fanta