#Never read Rainbow Factory but the music for it still hold up

[royalphantompain]

You proven to yourself and to all of us that you're not for to fly like a pegasus

You don't even deserve the wings you

When you stand beside a legend, you don't even compare

All of the failures help to fuel success in a bloody and visceral weather game of chess

And just because you've disappointed, you'll pay the price

Now accept your fate and die in the pegasus device

[millimononym]

TAG GAME!!!

tagged by @cerisia76 thank u 4 the tag!! I didn't know who i should tag so I'm just gonna be answering this one

3 ships:

this is gonna be hard I'm in so many fandoms lol I'm gonna try to be diverse. Also this is super long

1. Eritav (Homestuck)

OUGHHH where do i start with these 2. Ok so tavros is my fave troll so naturally during the period i was reading Homestuck a lot i stared having dreams about him. And for some reason one time Eridan was also there so i was intrigued and looked into their ship tag on AO3 and found the best fic ever with like the best characterization, writing etc... Before i literally didn't give 2 shits about eridan but it made me love his character as well. It's called "Black sails, Black romance" by mtjester and it's about Tavros and Eridan developing a kismesissitude(which is basically hate love, for those that don't read hs). The reason i put a pic of them down there as moirails is because i can honestly see them in any quadrant, despite them never talking in canon.

For moirallegiance, i feel like it would start out rocky but eventually develop into something better. Tavros would actually be allowed to speak his mind and develop more confidence since i dont think Eridan would shut him down constantly like Vriska, as Eridan is desperate for his quadrants to actually work. And Eridan would obviously benefit from having someone to keep his ass in line.

I can see them developing into matesprits later from that as well.

And as for kismesissitude, well it's already getting too long and i already gave a fic rec for it.

image by urfavsarequadranted

2. Toxic4Toxic/Socket/Rocket x Sinedd whatever they're called (Galactik football)

Must i say anything. They give each other undiscovered mental illnesses and are horrible for each other and i love that for them. Rocket is my favorite character and so his arc in season 2 was most interesting to me, which includes his relationship with Sinedd. I feel like they could have done more with them in s2, but i already made a post about that.

3. Hinadam (Super Danganronpa 2)

AHHHH THEM. Contender for fave rarepair of all time and fave Danganronpa ship overall. Best fics on ao3. 0 fandom toxicity surrounding them. Should be shipped more than k0mahina. Is more canon than k0mahina(I'm gonna get torn apart for this opinion but idc!!!)

like the entire freetime events with Gundham ends with him letting Hajime hold his hand, which he never let ANYONE do due to his touch aversion. He never develops a relationship this strong with anyone, not even Sonia who is his friend in the game. Hajime is the only person he feels safe and comfortable letting down his walls with due to Hajime's genuine effort to understand him better and be his friend. It's genuinely touching to me idkk i think i cried a bit first time i saw it. I'm not going to go into spoilers but good god man...the chapter ....if you know you know

and also in the island mode ending, Gundham asks Hajime if he wants to live a quiet life with himself and his animals. How is this not shipped more they're literally so in love it's not even funny

And NO i do not ship it because gundham is the best character and Hajime is the character i relate to most. but that could be part of it

IDK who made this artwork I'm sorry

Last song:

Okay it's technically not these ones but its the ones i remember listening to most lately. It's rainbow factory and Terrible Things. Fun fact a childhood song of mine called Erase The Underground (undertale fansong) just. Straight up used rainboe factory's music and i never knew so when i listened to RF i got the biggest jumpscare of my LIFE

Last movie:

The last movie i remember watching fully was Howl's moving Castle bcz my sister forced me and i enjoyed it even though it's not one of my favorite ghibli movies or anything. It was cool

Currently reading:

Still reading Watership down! (I have no time for anything lately otherwise i would have finished it) and if Manga counts I've also started reading NANA !! and i love it tbh my favorite thing is the fashion i could feel myself getting more cultured while reading it i think

Currently watching:

There's nothing im really focused on atm but i have a list on my pinned. The big ones i would say are Adventure Time and MAR (for nostalgia purposes). I'm also watching the justice league cartoon but tbh I don't really enjoy it that much despite people saying it's great. It just doesn't hit the same heights as BTAS or have as enjoyable of a superhero team as LOSH 2006. To me. But idk maybe it gets better later

Currently drinking: waterrrrrr baby

Currently craving: school to end to end tbhhhh

[randomfandomnerd]

Sunshine and Shadows- Chapter 7

Nico found himself being frogmarched to the Poseidon table by Percy and Jason. When they reached the table, the three boys sat down, with Jason and Percy on either side of Nico.

Percy immediately picked up his cup and it filled automatically with what Nico now knew to be his preferred beverage of blue coke.

Nico turned to his own cup and took a small sip of his milk. He knew he could never cope with being lactose intolerant like Frank. Plant substitutes just never tasted the same, no matter how much Coach Hedge insisted that they were nicer.

Percy spluttered.

“Are you having milk with your main meal?”

Nico pointedly looked at Percy’s bright blue drink. The son of Poseidon shrugged

“Fair enough I guess”

Jason adjusted his glasses so that they sat higher on his nose.

“So Nico”

he said.

“Did Will tell you about our grand plan? Well, mainly Percy’s grand plan. He’s seen a lot more films than I have, and apparently my music taste “isn’t the kind of thing Nico would like”, whatever that means.

Percy interrupted,

“ I highly doubt that Nico would like it. Imagine Dragons? Really Jason? Really? Also your Miley Cyrus phase was more than any demigod should have to handle in a lifetime.”

Jason didn’t seem at all offended by this and simply turned to Nico.

“So what do you think? How about it? A sleepover in Percy’s cabin with movies and songs and hopefully popcorn.”

Nico nodded.

“Sounds good”

he responded, and the other two boys did some sort of co-ordinated celebratory dance where they sat. Looking over at Percy, he noticed that the son of Poseidon was eating blue spaghetti. Now, baked goods like pancakes and cookies, he could understand. He could even understand the coke. What he didn’t get was blue tomato sauce. That was just ridiculous. Percy could have stopped at having blue pasta, but no. He had to have blue tomatoes as well.

Jason noticed Nico’s incredulous look and grinned at him.

“I know, right? Any more and he’s going to become a smurf. Or maybe Violet Beauregarde from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”

Nico laughed. He had no idea what a smurf was, but the name sounded funny. He had once read a copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory from a pile of tattered paperbacks in Chiron’s office in the Big House when he’d first arrived at Camp Half-Blood, and turning into a blueberry seemed to be a very unfortunate fate.

“I’m out of the infirmary tomorrow, so we could maybe do it then?”

he suggested. Percy and Jason nodded. Percy launched into a long rant about the pros and cons of Dreamworks vs. Disney. Nico had heard of Disney, but he wasn’t sure about the films that Percy was talking about, and he’d definitely never heard of Dreamworks.

“... How to Train Your Dragon is an absolute masterpiece, but still, Disney has some absolute classics. Consider Aladdin or 101 Dalmatians.”

Why anyone would even have that many dogs was beyond Nico.

“And that’s not even the best dog one! Lady and the Tramp! Nico you have to watch that one! Jason, bro, help me out here. Let’s show him how the spaghetti scene works.”

Jason frowned

“I’m not sure I want to know what your weird blue spaghetti tastes like.”

He grumbled, while shifting Nico slightly so he had better access to the plate. Percy appeared to be in the process of aiming for and missing a meatball with his nose. When he saw that Jason was participating in his visibly mad plan, he grinned, and picked up the end of a bit of blue spaghetti with his mouth. Out of the corner of his mouth he said to Nico

“This is the really famous bit of the movie”

Except it came out more like

“Dif if de rewy famos bit of de moobie”

Thankfully, Nico had spent enough time aboard the Argo 2 to be able to translate Percy’s mouth-full talk, but he was still really confused as Jason took the other half of the spaghetti strand in his mouth and the two of most respected warriors of Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood began to eat their way towards the other’s mouth. When they got to the middle, Jason bit the spaghetti in two, and sat back down, wiping all traces of blue tomato sauce off his face.

Percy looked at Nico expectantly. He awkwardly sat there and sort of clapped while wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. Percy and Jason both did an overly-dramatic bow.

Nico chuckled again. He liked having friends.

He remembered something from earlier

“Hey Percy, Will has something he wants to show you in a back room in the infirmary.”

Percy looked up, concerned.

“Last time he said he had something to show me, I ended up with several hours of watching Lillie, because her siblings didn’t want her to make a mess in the infirmary. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for babysitting as long as it doesn’t involve a child literally being so hyper they tried to escape out of the window.”

Nico laughed again as he pictured Percy trying to hold down a hyper little girl trying to escape, all while making sure he didn’t hurt her and avoiding the puppy eyes of a desperate child seeking all sorts of mayhem.

“No, it’s not Lillie. You should just come and see it. I’m sure Will will allow Jason to come too, if he behaves himself.”

Jason squawked in mock outrage at this and Percy and Nico laughed at his expression. He pouted down at his fries as Percy tried to get Nico to tell him what the surprise was.

“Soooo… what is it? Pleaseeee!!! Tellllll meeeeeeeeeeee!!!!”

Nevermind Lillie, Percy’s puppy eyes were very hard to resist. He had no idea how Annabeth ever managed to tell him no. Nico solved the problem by turning around and looking at Jason, who now had a smirk on his face.

“Hmmph”

Percy huffed.

“We’d better get this meal done so I can find out what it is”

@rainbow-sheepofthefamily

@emava04

@percabethfangirl

@nightmareghosts

@luna0713hunter

@seven-halfbloods

@my-apollo-gies

My Masterlist for all chapters

[dangerouslysmartslime]

My Little Pony The New Generation

Seems like the things that remembering of what happened in Generation 4 waws the olden times where the pony kinds were friends and didn’t use magic against each other. IE Generation 4 of the Friendship Pope. That the main character is a girl obsessed with the era of Generation. A lighthouse and Sunny will know, you stand up for what you believe in. Show everypony that we’re friends. That maybe today is that day! A father that loves his daughter with all his heart~! And the two colts that she was playing with, one of them she will see as an adult on her adventures as shown by the trailers and the other had the depressing note of wanting to be Sheriff, and everyone knows that Police Officers are reviled for keeping people in line, especially colored by their own bigotry, so insert the “Lois and Clark” Yikes. Sunny and her father write a letter to the unicorns and pegasi only to tell the story of Generation 4 to Sunny. A friend to fly around or float things, why can’t we be friends anymore? That is a great question, but we’ll figure it out together. And the drawings that she has as well as all the things she has of Generation 4 is so adorable!! Only to flash to when she’s an adult and the movie actually starts~! Sunny gets herself dressed with the same sort of pins I use on my hat. She gets ready her bag and she looks at pictures of her father in a way that mean it seems like he’s dead… And the movie goes into the first musical number. “Canter Logic” She goes on a ice cream run for a job, only for that colt who said he’s be a Sheriff to chase after her… And steal somepony’s milkshake and cookies… She gives a balloon to someone who wanted one, only for that one colt to continue being the worst pony in the movie so far in terms of douchbaggery. She is going and showing her enthusiasm for life while the colt continues to chase after her cleaning up all the kindness she wishes to do and come to University. A squad of critters like Fluttershy only he doesn’t actually like it. Annual presentation at Canterlot. Hey, come on! Sprout was actually just doing his job when Hitch was giving him orders. “Every year you sneak in and every year you try” As a friend not as a Sheriff, don’t? Someone litters and Sprout is continuing to be an asshole so I was right. So Sunny is mischevious only to find that this is a factory much like the memed on Rainbow Factory… Canter Logic is Phyllis Clovery, the mother of Sprout, and the actual biggest asshole. Oh wait, she actually is the main antagonist because she’s a bigot. Yep, markets her products for bigotry and wha… Ant-mind reading? And keeping eye on the sky doesn’t make sense… The earth pony balloon escape pack doesn’t work. Only for Sunny to try to protest it and she does it in a dumb way and her friend who is the Sheriff stops it by pulling the plug. “Aren’t you tired of being scared all the time? The truth is, we’re not in danger! We don’t need any of this Canter Logic junk!” Just imagine if you had a friend who could fly or do magic. That everything you hear is wrong when they could be friends and still could be! And “Phyllis is still a bigot.” To uphold it? Everypony includes Pegasi and Unicorns, “Then prove it” means she’s going to be go on an adventure. And the one friend that she has is an asshole to her because due to propaganda he says that it’s just an old filly story concocted by her father. She then looks to the sky and mourns her father once again, wishing he was here. Only for… Izzy Moonbow the Unocnr meets Sunny and all the bigots (IE everyone except Sunny) panics as the bigots… Really? That seems a little harsh. Well yeah, they’re bigots, what do you expect Izzy! Izzy plays it like a game of hopscotch only to get trapped by a trap because she was looking at Terminator Judgment Day. Hitch then lectures her. So, you’re named Sunny? Bye! Nice to meet you now! Hitch acts like he’s the only sane man, but in reality Izzy is just as enthusiastic as Sunny as being a silly dork. Nooo, I can’t make it float but I can open cans! Tada! No magic…  So the bigots keep being bigots and they flee. No magic? But we did have magic and that was many moons ago and everyone is racist because the magic leaves. Unicorn with no magic and everyone is a bigot. Earth ponies have a lot of bigoted stories while only 3 stories unicorns. What if they don’t! And then there’s the musical number 2. Neat… Two folks becoming friends who are looking out for each other like Sunny is friggin friendship pope with Pinkie Pie. So they get an apple to have a snack and continue trotting along to try to get to the land of Pegasi. Hitch is the “perfect guy” in terms of taking care of himself and Sprout is now the Interim Sheriff. Still think Phyllis is the villain. Only to find that yes, everyone is bigoted against each other because they think everyone else did something bad. And… Can Pegasi not fly? No, the butch pegasus is here “there’s no way we could, there’s no way we could!” The shield is.. Can you fly to the moon? Well I do like sneakers. And then modern Americana appears in Zephyr Heights… Royal bash for Queen Haven and Princess Pip the influencer. Of course… Pip Pip Hooray? Pegasi do have a Castle, and it even looks like they stole Canterlot and renamed it. And… Both of the Pegasi are royalty. Earth Pony and Unicorn in Zephyr Heights, and no, not an attack ya silly. And Hitch goes after them and… Sprout is here but people are revolting? Wait, no they aren’t. “We need a real Sheriff!” Only for him to get all fearmongerin. I see… Whispering danger danger.. Generation 1 is shown… “Follow me mindlessly!” Angry Mob ANGRY ANGRY. Influencer advertisments and… “We haven’t seen a single pony flying except the royal family. Only for a princess to.. Just call me Zip.Izzy Moonbow. Important about magic? How does your work? The unicorns lost theirs. No magic. “Well, that changes things. Her father’s journal, and that star is actually like Twilight Sparkle’s journal. “Only royals can fly because for some reason they have magic. Nicorn hair and Pegasi! Hitch is looking for them only to find that the Pegasi captured them. When unicorns and Earth Ponies visited Zephyr Heights and the Wonderbolts were seen in a picture. The truth is they can’t fly either but just faking by… Wires and good lighting… A “ridiculous lie.” To… Soar using a fan. A bright sparkle, says Izzy. Canterlot’s old Stained Glass. It’s seen right there and now each one is placed in order, fitting. The Crystals go together united. So if they put them back together magic would return… The unicorn crystal Bridlewood is had. The Queen never takes her crown off… Swap real crown with decoy. Stealthy and stealing the crown. Paying a guest a visit and Pip is told. No one can fly, it is just a stage show… Because of course, Pip is just an influencer using a stage show and of course aother song… While Sunny and Moonbow are doing the plot~… But the dog happens, where the small dog is like a guard dog. And Hitch is also finding them, then the recording staff is like “Prisoners have escaped!” And Hitch is put on stage… “What is happening. The Royals are revealed to not be able to fly either, and they accidentally drop the Crystal… “Arresting you and saving you.” The Queen’s daughter, oh the Sheriff just became detective. The models of the characters look so much like the toys, Pip and Hitch join the party! Meanwhile… Canter Logic creates war machines complete with Sprout sounding like Vader when he’s really just drinking a milkshake. “Just make it work, okay!” “My town mommy” And that he is “Now Emperor” From Defense to Offense. “All thanks to encouragement” Hitch and Pip whining about being in the party. Look, once everyone gets magic back they’ll be heroes! Crystal clear and he deodorant have his badge. Between you an d me, the badge was creating an unhealthy power dynamic. Fair point. And they start giving up at a bridge being broken, only for Izzy opening the entrance because she knows the way. Breaking open a tree using her horn. They make a fire only for Hitch to be a whiny man lighting a fire “come on, don’t be a hero dude, just come here by the fire.” And they’re good to be a team, just like the Mane 6 of Generation 4. Only for Izzy to look down that the idea of being together is the best thing to happen, that getting friends is better than just getting magic. From Sunny there was that friends in Maritime Bay. That someday they’d prove that all ponies are meant to be friends. That Hitch wants to do his part, “what do we have to lose, right!” Not far from all the SIGNS OF DEATH LIKE THIS IS THE EVERFREE FOREST. “The Villa Izzy~” And all the silly things that she made like Izzy’s friendship bracelets and a tea set… Only for Izzy to be sad for not having a tea party and… A glow up? Although they’re difference races they should unite like the ancient politics of the Friendship Pope~! Comes another song. And it was a fun song so I sang along. Unicorns are very superstitious as to have magic, feather, wing, and mayonnaises. No forbidden words like Mayonnaise. The Unicorn Crystal is owned by Alphabettle, and he can smell fear. “Tea” Hold, the milk, quite the game player I see, why, do you play? I don’t play I win?” Just Dance! Both ponies agree, best out of three! Only need to win one out three for Sunny. Round 3… Here that sunny, feel the Rhythm take you over! I’m feeling it, go Sunny! And she wins with some hype from Pip! Only for the horn to fall off! And a Unicorn! Which you knew already! No, stop… No, don’t. It’s time to run… No pony has magic, but we’re here to bring it back! It can sound unbelievable, but trying is best.  But nooo she needs the 2 out of 3. SHE NEEDS THE 2 out of 3!!! Ye, they don’t have to fight! Sprout makes a tank and he cackles menacingly. That they can be separated by gear and distrust, or there can be friendship and love between the races, like her father. Like her loving father. SO they unite and the reincarnation of the Friendship Pope. The reincarnation of the Friendship Pope has brought the Magic of Friendship to Equestria again.

[crystalgirl259]

Life of a High School Vampire One-Shots 7 Planned Parenthood

WARNING! This chapter will include talks of violence, abortions, and explosives. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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

SUMMARY: A rabid protester outside a health clinic draws Kai into providing some clarification into what Hell's tortures might really be... ****************

Kai groaned in frustration as the hot noon sun shined brightly above him as he sulked down the street. After Lloyd and Jay found out about his little one-night stand with the Cole person, his roommates insisted that he should get checked out at a health clinic just to be certain that he hadn't caught anything, especially since Kai couldn't remember whether or not they had used protection. He knew they spoke from a place of concern, but that didn't ease Kai's anger.

It got even worse when he found out that they had booked him an appointment at a nearby health clinic behind his back when they figured out he wasn't going to do it.

Kai wanted to tell them that thanks to his power he didn't contract any human diseases. But he also knew that he had to keep the secret. He was also a little grateful that when his parents sent him to Ninjago they crafted an entire medical history for him. It was to explain away any oddities the doctors would find thanks to his vampiric genes. As the brunette was about to round the corner to the clinic, he noticed a small RV parked awkwardly on the curve.

Kai was immediately suspicious of the vehicle.

It was fairly plain with the exception of a brightly colored bumper sticker beaming up at him. The street the RV was parked on had no stores or anything that would make a driver of an RV and possibly their passengers' park and get out. Kai was curious, but he also knew he needed to get to his appointment or he wouldn't hear the end of it. As he rounded the corner, however, he saw a sight that both amused and irritated the vampire.

"Sinners! Sinner! You're a sinner!" Shouted a middle-aged man with a checkered shirt and khaki shorts was standing next to the door holding a large homemade sign damning abortions and promoting pro-life. Kai had heard about these types of people and they made him mad. He didn't understand why these people thought it was perfectly ok to harass women who were already going through a bad time. He was also livid when he realized that these pro-life people were all for pregnancy.

But then as soon as that baby was born then they didn't give a fuck what happened.

Kai might not be the most sensitive person but knew that even one had a right to choose and if they choose to abort a fetus he couldn't give a damn.

"Yeah, you're a sinner! Have fun with your abortion! I hope you're wearing sunscreen, 'cause it's hot as hell in hell!" The man shouted at a woman who was much older than him walking into the clinic. Kai seriously doubted she was able to get pregnant anymore. This clinic did offer abortions, but they also provided other services such as testing and treatment for STIs, advice about sexual health, contraception, pregnancy testing, HIV testing, hepatitis B vaccination, and help for people who have been sexually assaulted.

The brunette barely managed to suppress a growl.

This was the last thing he needed to deal with today of all days. He was thankful that he was wearing sunglasses because he was certain his eyes were glowing red with his burning rage. Kai knew that he had to get to his appointment and he wasn't about to let a hippie stop him. As the brunette was about to walk into the clinic and ignore the man, he noticed the man's slightly opened rucksack and saw something shining poking out ever so slightly.

Kai quickly realized what it was and a million thoughts ran through his head.

But they all came to a stop when he saw a sticker for the exact same music band as the bumper sticker. Kai connected the dots rather quickly and a sickening grin spread across his face. This was going to be fun...

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

Once everything was set for his plan, Kai approached the clinic again and saw the man crouched in the car park, hiding in between the cars as he rummaged through his bag and glancing back at the building. He had to get rid of that monstrosity. He pulled out the explosion device but cursed when he saw that somehow the wires attached to the device had been cut. The tools were to fix it were back in his RV parked around the corner. The man really didn't want to risk rushing back to the RV in case anyone saw him or, more importantly, the device in his backpack.

But he couldn't stay in between the cars either.

He had already avoided a couple of people by the skin of his teeth and he knew his lucky hiding place couldn't last forever. If they did he would be shipped off to prison, never to see the light of day again. He couldn't let that happen. Not while abortions were still happening every day.

"You need at least six more ounces of kerosene for that to work right." Kai suddenly announced his presence with a cocky smirk. He could already tell this was going to be fun. The man let out a yelp as he bolted up and attempted to hide the evidence, but he knew the teen had seen the device.

"That is none of your business!" He snarled, terrified at being discovered, but he refused to back down. "Sir, I suggest that you turn around and walk away because THAT is a BABY! MURDERING! FACTORY!" He all but screamed as he gestured to the health center.

"Don't be ignorant; Romania shut down its last baby incinerator back in 87." Kai rolled his eyes and tried to walk past the man, only to have his path blocked.

"They are everywhere!" The man cried out, only for his eyes to widen in horror. "Sir, are planning on assisting in murdering an unborn child today?!" He exclaimed and Kai almost burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement, but he held it in.

"That's not on my schedule, but it is my day off." The brunette shrugged casually, catching the man off-guard. With that said, Kai tried once again to enter the health center, only for the man to block his path again. It took all of Kai's restraint not to tear this man's throat out.

"Just so you know, if you walk through those doors you are entering into the devil's playground." The man warned, trying to persuade the teen to walk away. Instead, Kai had had enough of this guy and shoved past the protester without another word. "YOU LIBERAL HEATHENS WOULDN'T KNOW SATAN'S HANDIWORK IF SMACKED THE RAINBOW STICKERS OFF YOUR UKULELE!" The man screamed and just like that, the leash on Kai's temper snapped.

This rabid protester needed some clarification into what Hell's tortures might really be like.

"I know it." The brunette hissed as he turned around and removed his sunglasses, unveiling his crimson red eyes. "Satan lived in Charles Manson; giving him the charm to form a cult of reckless murderers," Kai smirked as he began to circle the man like a hungry shark. "Satan lived in Ted Bundy; providing him the good looks to lure his targets into his trap, where he would strangle his subjects and sleep with the corpses." He added as he listened in on the man's thundering heartbeat.

The man himself was frozen in terror as his eyes followed the teen casually, yet slowly, walking around him like a predator.

"Satan lived in Jeffrey Dahmer; bidding him invite unsuspecting victims into his basement only to be dismembered and eaten." Kai finally finished and that was when the man finally found his voice again.

"H-H-He... h-... he ate... the bodies?" He managed to stammer out, his throat suddenly very dry as his skin turned cold and pale.

"If Satan really is providing me a dose of plan B, he has really lost his edge." Kai all but purred in satisfaction, knowing he had won this little fight. With that said he turned and walked to the entrance.

"Well, I hope you have fun in hell." The man shot weakly.

"I will, save me a seat." Kai grinned as he put his sunglasses back on and walked inside without even giving the man another glance. The man took a deep breath to calm his nerves before rushing back to his RV to repair the device. Kai couldn't get rid of the smile on his face as he felt the gas canister and the wire cutters poking him from his bag. Or when he heard a small explosion in the distance and the sound of a car alarm ringing. He simply sighed contently as he approached the front desk and rang the bell.

"I'm here for my appointment."...

[unkemptgardens]

CHAPTER FOUR

The following morning Tesla was awoken by the timer kicking the lights on in her face.  She squinted against the purple.  The plants all had fully-formed buds on them.  She shot out of bed to investigate. 

Completely frosted.  A mix of white and amber trichomes, fully covered, like a cupcake.  The buds were then layered with a thick coat of orange hairs.  The buds themselves were dense and gigantic, taking up the majority of each stalk's length.  Tesla rushed to find Daisy.

A few hours later the bud was harvested and spread out in a mesh hanger to cure.  Harvesting had been promising.  They had went through a few pairs of scissors because the trichomes kept gumming up the blades.  Each plant was different.  Daisy had loved picking out the different terpenes with her nose.  She inhaled the bud she was holding.  “Beta-caryophyllene, limonene...a little humulene?”

“I think that's the Girl Scout Cookies.  It smells like my last bag.  Only a million times better.”  Tesla had never seen weed like this in her life.  She couldn't believe it.  Daisy was the real deal.  She even did magic to speed up the curing process – they were hoping the faint grass smell would be gone by tomorrow.  

It was Sunday so the shop was closed.  Daisy didn't feel like working on the website on her day off so they hung out and relaxed instead.  Daisy did another tarot reading for Tesla which turned out to be hopeful and encouraging.  Tesla then tried her hand at doing one for Daisy, but the messages were conflicting.  Tesla helped Daisy repot some of her plants and even ate some of her peanut-butter tofu stir-fry (worth eating).  They checked on the weed.

Tesla smelled a perfect nugget.  “It smells ready.  Shall we try it out?”

“Me?”

“We'll compare notes.”

Daisy didn't say no and didn't kick Tesla out when she started breaking a bud up.  She sat down at the table where Tesla finished loading a bowl into a rainbow pipe that had a large chip on the side.  

“Okay, I'm gonna need you to corner this.  You don't want to get too high.  Just burn a small bit and then stop.  Don't get brave,” instructed Tesla.

Daisy took the pipe.  She did as she was told, nailed it, and then handed the pipe back.  She waited.  “I don't think I feel anything.” 

“Nothing?”

“Wait, no.”

“........”

“Wait, no,” Daisy repeated and then she burst out laughing.

Tesla eagerly took a puff.  Her body instantly melted and suddenly she had a big, goofy grin.  

“How do you feel now?”  she asked Daisy.

“Like I wanna go on a walk.”

“Where?”

“The backyard?”

“You don't have a backyard.”

“Damn.”

They settled on the park.  Daisy was having the time of her life looking at all the different trees and was completely incapable of playing it cool in public.  Tesla had little success hushing her.

“LOOK AT THE WEEPING WILLOW, TESLA!”  She did this with each new tree.  It was a park full of trees.

Somewhere between an oak and an elm Tesla was hit with a full-blown munchies attack.  She needed food, and she needed it now.  “Daisy.  Daisy we have to leave.”

“Is that person over there with the binoculars sketching you out too?”

“They're bird watching.”

“Oh.”

“No, I've got the munchies.  Let's go get food.”  

They couldn't find Tesla's jeep.  It took them a quarter hour to realize they were on the wrong side of the park.  Then they got lost on the drive back to the shop.  Finally they made it back.  Tesla realized that she had completely forgotten to stop and get munchies and had to settle for Daisy's weird pantry.  They gorged themselves on spicy dried fruit, granola yogurt bites, dark chocolate, baby carrots and humus, and kelp chips.

“This might be the weed talking, but these kelp chips are really hitting the spot,” said Tesla, slouched on the couch, covered in crumbs.

Daisy looked out the window.  “It's already dark!  How long has it been?”

Tesla checked her phone and sat up.  “Wow.  Hours.  Usually you don't feel it for this long unless you, like, eat edibles or something.”

“Well I think I'm getting sleepy.  I'm going to go to bed.”

“Me too.”

The next morning they were both still high.  “Okay, this is weird,” said Tesla, accidentally buttering her phone instead of her toast.  “We shouldn't still be high.”

“....was it all of the magic?”

“Probably, Daisy.  I have a confession to make.  I was doing magic every night too!  You kept going on and on about intention magic, I figured it wouldn't hurt to talk to some plants.  They're honestly a good audience.”

“Tesla!  So we're too high?”

“I mean, I am, and I can only imagine how you feel, never having smoked before.”

“I just thought this was what it was like!”  All of Daisy's clothes were on inside-out.

“Just give it a little bit.”

It did eventually wear off, much to Daisy's relief.  She kept losing things.  On one occasion, after a half-hour of searching for her keys, Witchcat brought them to her, rabbit's foot in mouth, and released them at her feet with an exasperated sigh.  On another occasion, while cooking, she had looked all over the kitchen for her spoon only to realize she had been holding it the entire time.

“A day and a half!” said Tesla excitedly.  “This weed is magic.”

“I don't know, you don't think it's too strong?  I forgot the word 'door.'”

Tesla waved it off.  “It's fine.  I'll start selling tomorrow.”

And away she went!  The next morning Tesla's very first stop was the library.  She marched right up to the librarian's desk.  “Meet me in the occult section.”  Five minutes later they were face to face with Tesla's backpack between them.  “It's magic.”

Charles looked up from where he was inspecting a fat purple nugget.  “Yes, but what do you mean?”

“We grew it with magic!  Daisy did her green witch thing and I talked to them a lot!”

“Magnificent.  I'll take a quarter.”

Then Tesla went to the local college campus where she had pretty good luck.  Finally, she found herself inside of The Third Eye.  She did feel a little guilty, but then Jack spotted her and came over with a wave.  

“Tesla!  Right?”

“Haha.  Yeah.  Haha.”

“You didn't bring your friend, did you?”

“Don't worry, I think she hates you just as much as you hate her.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, hey, I actually came in today because I just grew some just absolute dank.  I'll smoke a bowl with you and you can decide if you want some.”

They went to a back room, where there was already a bong out on the coffee table.  It was surrounded by loveseats in a circular fashion.  She picked the one in the middle, small and cushioney.

Tesla's backpack reeked.  She pulled out the bags.  “Look at this madness.”

Jack was thoroughly impressed.  “Okay, I want some.”

“Just wait!  Bong?”

“You bet.”

Tesla loaded her up and offered him the green hit, which he took in a practiced manner.  The effect was immediate.  It was an indica, and he grew very still and soft, eyes unfocused.  “That tasted exactly like berries,” he said finally.

Tesla threw her arms up in a touchdown.  “It’s the best!”  She took the bong for herself.  She hesitated a moment, remembering how completely baked she was last time.  Had she been too high?  Impossible.  She took a big rip.  The lights got brighter, the colors more vivid.  Suddenly she heard every single lyric coming from the small laptop in the corner, which she hadn’t noticed before.  Then she forgot where she was.

“I think this is the highest I’ve ever been,” she heard.  She looked over at Jack staring at his outstretched hands and remembered.  Then she felt ridiculous and giggled at herself for a bit.  “Do you want some?”  she asked.  She sold him an eighth.  It was hard for him to count out the money but they managed.  They both sunk further and further into the couch, letting the music play.  It was wonderful.

“What is this?”

“I don’t remember.”

They talked a little.  “What’s the deal with your friend?”

“Daisy.  Get this: she owns an occult shop.  On the other side of town.  Can you believe it?”

“Yeah I think I’ve heard of it.  Six Roads?”

“Five Roads.”

“How’d she get that name?”

“Said it came to her in a dream.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah, she’s just as weird as you, don’t hate her.  I know she was a lot when she was in here, but she really isn’t that bad.  She just kind of lost it when she found out about your shop.”

“She didn’t know about it?”

“I don’t think she gets out much.”

They stared dreamily off into space for a bit.  “You think I’m weird?” asked Jack after a minute.

“A little.”

“Why?”

Tesla laughed.  “I’m not into all this.”  She gestured around her at the room in general, hung with tapestries and filled with candles and incense smoke.  “I think it’s cute though.”

“You bought enchanted lube!”

“I mean, I couldn’t not buy the enchanted lube.”

“Do you like it?  I enchanted it myself.”

“How do you enchant lube?”

Jack grinned.  “Trade secret.  Now that I know you’re friends with the competition.”

“It better not be weird.”

“It’s not.  It’s very normal.”

“Enchanting lube?”

“Yes.”

Tesla’s phone vibrated.  It was Daisy, wondering if she wanted dinner.  Tesla smiled at the thoughtfulness.  “Well, I better go.  It was nice talking to you again.”  They said goodbye and Tesla left in a blissful haze.  She couldn’t get her jeep open.  It took awhile for her to realize she was pressing the lock button.  But the ride home was fairly uneventful and soon she was in Daisy’s tiny, delicious-smelling kitchen, dumping her cash from that day onto the table.

“Are you kidding me?” squealed Daisy.  “This is enough for rent!”  

Tesla rolled up her sleeves and started flexing and kissing her muscles.

Daisy squinted.  “You’re super-stoned again!”  she accused.

Tesla laughed.  “No I’m not!”

Daisy crossed her arms.  “If I have twelve apples and I take away five and add seventeen apples, how many apples do I have?”

“What, are you dealing apples?  Another day at the ol’ apple factory?”

“See!  You couldn’t figure it out if you tried!”

“Daisy, sometimes the answer comes from within.”  Daisy rolled her eyes and set a plate of steaming vegetables down in front of Tesla, who glady dug in.  She had eaten more green stuff since living with Daisy than she had in the past six months.

“Well I’m not smoking the stuff anytime soon again.  It was fun and everything, but that is just too much for me,” said Daisy.  

They discussed what they still had left to do for the website, and how the new source of income could benefit the shop.  Tesla was too super-stoned to be helpful.  “Let’s get one of those crazy, inflated floppy men out front!” 

They talked about their day. 

“Don’t be mad, but I sold weed to the guy at The Third Eye.”

“Tesla!  He’s the competition!  Don’t associate with him!”

“I said don’t be mad.  His money’s just as good as anyone else’s.”  Tesla didn’t mention his soulful eyes or pretty smile.  Or that he only bought an eighth.  “Well, how was the shop today?  Any new customers?”

Daisy sighed.  “Not yet.”

The next few days flew by.  The shop, as always, was slow, but gave Daisy plenty of time to work on the website, which they got up and running.  Daisy reorganized and looked at adding new inventory.  She also started considering taking ads out in the local newspaper or perhaps having a commercial run on the radio.  She had the funds now.  Tesla, who had taken to wearing sunglasses inside and smoking cigars, brought in a steady stream of cash everyday from selling.  Tesla noticed her repeat customers were all still super-stoned, but that they just wanted different strains of her “magic weed.”  Each time, they went on and on about how good it was.  She could recognize her customers, many of them college students, throughout town from a mile away.  Many of them were conspicuous in some manner.  For example, one girl looked like she had accidentally slathered toothpaste all over her face instead of moisturizer.  Tesla didn’t have the heart to tell her.  She had come down from her own magic high and had opted to take a break from the World’s Best Bud.  She didn’t see it as a problem, however, until things started hitting close to home.

Tesla recognized that some of her campus customers worked at Arby’s, which, naturally, she frequented.  It started out small.  No Arby’s sauce in the bag.  Barely noticeable, normal even.  Then, no curly fries.  No curly fries!  How could they?  Soon, the entire order was missing.  It was just a paper bag with one measly napkin in it. 

Tesla went inside.  “Who’s in charge here?” she asked at the counter.  The three employees, all super-stoned, all looked at each other blankly, as though they had forgotten.

Tesla held up the paper bag.  “You forgot my entire order!”  The employee at the register, Kyle, who had bought an eighth, looked into the bag and broke into a lopsided grin.

“Whoa,” he said.

Tesla waited.  “Well?”

“What did you order again?”

Ten minutes later, Tesla left with extra fries, dessert, and two extra sandwiches.  She was a little worried though.  Would things be like this forever?  She noticed things amiss on the way home too.  Everyone was driving with a blinker light on.  At a four-way, no one knew who was supposed to go and then everyone tried to go all at once.  It might’ve caused an accident but everyone was driving too slowly.  “Does this whole town smoke weed?” cried Tesla in frustration.

Shortly at Daisy’s, Tesla brought it up.  “We have to do something!”

“Just stop selling it!  It’ll wear off eventually.”

“Will it?  Samantha only bought a gram and today I saw her give her entire order at Arby’s to the sign without the speaker in it.”

Daisy’s expression brightened and she snapped her fingers.  “I know!  We can go visit Charles and see how he feels!”

[oncetheearl]

.Primary Colors

Grell Sutcliff

warnings: none, it's mildly fluffy prose

a/n: Written for @saturnberry. I hope you had a nice Valentine's Day. Because there were so many mentions of Grell in your posts I knew right off that's who I wanted to write for, though admittingly I feel like I don't have a good enough hold on Grell's personality (hence why I avoided a ship with another canon character.) This is technically Grell x Reader as it uses instances of second person; however, the gender of the reader is left open ended.

In a world where everyone is designated a color—an indicator of who they were to become as they grew older—you were born an unremarkable cluster of blues, not bright enough to add to the sky, too morbid for the painters to use.

It was as though everywhere you went, people outshone you. In school the other children were wondrous blends, and your shade felt understated, a waste of anyone's attention. Even the other blues were brighter than you: one girl you likened to the ocean, a sapphire crystal—so warm a shade it leaked into the atmosphere. In class you sat beside a yellow, a cheery snaggletooth boy with sincere eyes behind coke frames, a penchant for silly games, and a willingness to try anything. You knew the rainbow, a brown—tough as nails. She hardly flinched at an encounter with broken glass. A dark grey who only spoke to you once. Even a pink, who laughed with the purples. It came from his uncle, he told you one morning, picking dandelions from the field beside the schoolhouse.

You on the other hand, sat beneath a tree with roots ripped and picked weeds out the Earth, never at home enough in your own shade to cajole with the others. It'd all be different when you grew up, you considered. Adults weren't like this; they'd treat you better, teach you there was never anything wrong with your color—because surely, it couldn't have mattered in the real world.

Yet, when you grew, your sense of loss grew with you. 

The world was organized by color files in a dusty cabinet, by designation and molds that weren't intended for expansion. Bosses had those they preferred. Oranges made good leaders, they said, and greens could be consultants if they wanted. Trichromatics were sought after inclusions. But blues were in abundance, and therefore mere grunts, worker ants; those that populated the factories of London's lower regions.

Needless to say, you did not need to ask in order to know what designation the casualties were; some accident in a factory you heard. But you always waited for your carriage here and chose to do so regardless, even though the air agitated.

As you watched the road ahead, out came someone, bemoaning their line of work (an investigator, you wondered? who else would be in there?), glasses askew, near knocking you forward into the pavement before the fact you should move presented itself to you.

The speed in which you felt your chest constrict was maddeningly slow (surely an instant, but forever in your head based on the lump in your throat.) Away you had looked, heart an unruly child turning pans into drums. You prayed that no one could hear it sputtering beneath your coat, that the stranger in red couldn't sense your nerves. The stranger was definitely a red, just as their clothes would have said. You could tell by the mannerisms, those teeth, the flop of hair into the vision. The annoyance that the rain kept pouring and pouring as though the sky had a rip.

But then that stranger gave you a look, and said something, and for a brief moment you forgot to add air to your lungs, the necessity of breathing.

You can't recall what you were told... cliche of love at first sight, and all. It could have been mundane complaints about how the sky was drenching you both, or questioning of why you seemed incapable of looking upward, or where White Chapel was—but you know it had to have been something sweet like 'what's someone gorgeous doing out here looking so glum' or 'what a pretty coat, where can I get one?'

(If not, why were you so flustered, then?)

You would later put a name to this stranger, but for now it did not matter. Grell had been complaining about the storm, eyes upward, expression turned near startled when you extended a hand and professed lunch on the Eastside, my treat, too willing to say please.

Oh, God. What possessed you to, you wonder? You were not spontaneous, or the type to offer lunch to a stranger in the dark. Reds and blues did not go together—because neither understood the other. Though it wasn't such a mystery why, the rain reminds. Red was your favorite color. That jigsaw smile, the collision of a million things into one, twisted upward, and you knew, no longer had to wonder: you liked red, even if it belonged to another.

And Grell brought out the red in you. Made you so always willing to run, to say I'm hungry, let's have dinner. Promise we'll have candles or flowers or a band that plays Saint-Saëns in fantasia.

I'll make it loud and bold, I'll make it red—because you wear it so.

How about the pier? The symphony? A massage—I'll do the planning.

Your hair is quite long, can I comb through it with only the tips of my fingers?

One day you had stopped to ponder, why is it I love red, I wonder?

Why not orange, or blue, or the shade of wet feathers? Why something so loud and abrasive and untamed. Untethered. Why stand out when it's comfortable in the rafters? Why did you feel more red than you were? But maybe those feelings didn't matter.

Your grandmother was a blue, and so was your father. Your mother had developed it one noon as a girl, came down with it like fever. It ran in your blood, slept in your grandfather's genepool, was inherited in your skin, lived in the liversplotches on your cousin's lips. You were a blue, and that was not worth denying.

You liked your books, the ones with the spines wrinkled. You drunk tea in evenings without sound. Your dwelling had seen better. Your wall clock swing was musicality; oh how boring, you'd imagine Grell would think.

Your shade of blue was mute, tired. A housecat slithered under a creaking armoire. An old weeping oak. A desire to rest before time ran out. But for all the inherent blueness of you, Grell never complained: and that confused you. Not even where you lived; an old building on a simple street with cramped beige walls and floors unnaturally even. At least if they were lopsided you'd feel more unique.

(Luckily, Grell had only insulted your abode once, when a long strand of red had gotten caught in the spinning wheel next to your bed and yanked from the scalp. It was in jest—you hoped—though Grell had been incensed and seemed alarmingly serious about cutting the thing apart...)

Fixing makeup in the mirror, spraying you with scents, Grell spoke where you preferred to listen; 'try this' 'no this smells much better' 'a maiden must always be adorned in fanciful arrangements' 'roses are my favorite, you know?'

Oh, did you ever. And so was bright weather, pretty corsets, lace feathers, heels that made the calves go on forever. Every utterance, complaint, and silly trait was inscribed in a tongue known to no one in the valley of your heart. You were a blue after all, and blues were dutiful lovers. Had memories like harp strings taunt; sharp. And how could you ever forget anything about Grell when there was always more to learn.

But you wanted to share that brightness. You'd walk and consider, could I make red if I mixed others? If I took his orange, my blue, that woman's green, maybe a splash of pink for authenticity... would I have a said shade like yours, a color that says 'look at me, I'm worth beholding'?

Maybe the rafters aren't so pretty. Maybe I'd like them all to look at me even if there's no smiling. Be seen. Red stops everyone, always has them looking. But you cannot make red from anything other. You are born red. You are born yourself. You would never have that shade, ever.

Sometimes you both spoke of what it would be like to be reborn, who either of you imagined would be the other.

Grell would be a supernova; grand, the death of something and the birth of another, a force you can't stop. A contradiction, a paradox; the brute with the love of flowers. Grell was red to the core. Wore it as though it was summer. Red was fond. Red was sticking up for your lover. Red was passion, and great things, and goosebumps from too much laughter. A person who in death, found that bold was always inside them. The poet's encouragement to be yourself. Something strange: spring in the snow, a funeral full of smiles. Red and worthwhile.

Grell hoped you'd still be you, to your wonder, because no one knew Grell better. You smiled when you were told, and that's because you're blue, hun. No one would understand those little details, loves, see so well beneath the water. Only a blue would. Could. A blue keeps the order while maintaining the spontaneity of a boat ride at the shore.

It was because you were blue. Because you were you. And blue is a nice color, Grell told you. Imagine how boring it'd be if we were all red or violet or green.

'I'd be bored'

You laughed, because maybe there was a point. Maybe blue wasn't such a bad color to be, because balance is pretty, a necessary evil. Grell had a flair for losing boots in the gutter, sneaking out to join the ball, and you liked picking up Cinderella's lost shoes. You've got a lover who loves a kiss on the hand, and you, a romantic from reading at all hours. Together you'd make blends and yellows and greens and purples; the shade of sallows, the sandy crunch of the desert, capture the sunrise's caricature.

I love your red, you tell. And Grell thinks your blue is quite special. Because it's red and blue together that unlocks the rainbow.

[deadcactuswalking]

BRIT Awards 2021: Observations, Comments & Review

I don’t have a commentary post on the BRIT Awards like I usually do because be honest: nobody wants to read that, but regardless I do feel the need to keep up with the tradition of the event and post some comments about the awards since, well, it’s going to impact the chart. It would make a hell of a lot more sense to broadcast the show on a Friday as a result of that so it makes the biggest possible impact and doesn’t leave me with confusing left-overs and assorted gains that only picked up traction in the mid-week... but I digress. You should get the gist but I’ll do some explaining prior for the sake of it. Regardless, I guess welcome to REVIEWING THE CHARTS?

So, how do the BRIT Awards work? Well, every year, the BPI – the British Phonographic Industry – holds the BRITs to celebrate pop music in the most high-profile ceremony for popular music in the United Kingdom. Back in the 1990s, it used to feature some of the craziest, most unexpected moments in the history of British pop music, with this anarchic reputation that has since been sanitised and refined to where it is now: a high-budget award ceremony hosted by some idiot, probably, and recorded live for broadcast on ITV. This year, it’s hosted by Jack Whitehall – as it has consistently been in recent years – and was delayed as a result of the global pandemic, but regardless, it’s back and we’ll see how the show copes with restrictions and social distancing... okay, well, it does involve Dua Lipa so I don’t think much of that will be going on but regardless, the show will naturally be affected by COVID-19, even if our response is going better than it was this time last year with all the vaccines coming out. What has not changed is our host and, oh, my God, I wish it did because Jack Whitehall is an annoying void of personality who’s never not been unfunny and awkward, especially on such an improvisational show like the BRITs. I think the only host who can live up to the flamboyancy of the show is Graham Norton, but he’s got his work cut out for him as the Eurovision narrator and he does a damn good job at that too.

Most awards are announced on the night but some, like the Global Icon and Rising Star award, were already decided – it’s Taylor Swift and Griff, by the way. I do play a little game every year where I have a scorecard, and that’ll be posted right now. After that scorecard is posted, you’ll come back to me from after the awards have finished with some of my comments – nothing of a gret deal of detail, probably, but definitely observational. See you in a tad.

Well, that was a nice slice of rainbow capitalism, if a bit too refined for what it is. I’ve felt this for years now but the BRITs do feel so factory-processed to go perfectly now that some of the charm is lost. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the ceremony as that would be largely untrue – a lot of the performances for one were great. Some highlights included Olivia Rodrigo’s performance which in my eyes certified her as a popstar to watch, especially with that husky, imperfect vocal delivery towards the end that really sold it for me. The Weeknd delivered the most consistently and aesthetically high-quality performance with a “Save Your Tears” Zoomed straight from I assume Canada. Years & Years paraded around with Elton John on a technicolour stage pretty befitting for the gay anthem they performed, Headie One and AJ Tracey traded some new politically-charged verses with less impact than Dave but pretty fitting of the entire aesthetic of the show. The last BRIT Awards felt perhaps too serious, not that I’m offended by social messages being placed into award shows, but the fun just wasn’t there and was actually here in spades, especially with the vibrant Y2K choice of aesthetic that made perfect sense for a lot of these performers, especially the Dua Lipa medley that basically started the show off with some high-energy girl-group nostalgia.

In fact, a lot of that was there this evening, with Little Mix becoming the first all-female group to win Best British Group, to my surprise, and HAIM of all people winning Best International Group, although it seems clear to me that the awards were just given to whoever was there as a result of certain restrictions. Said restrictions in fact made the show arguably smoother and more refined than ever, and I’m actually happy for it. There were barely any noticeable mistakes either, other than an indecipherable few verses from Headie One in which he performed gestures that made it quickly obvious what was being rapped anyway, and Lewis Capaldi commanding everyone in the audience, including key workers, to shut up before his quickly-censored profanity, long after the watershed, bled out through emergency mute functions.

The whole “key workers” bit has annoyed me since the pandemic started – if the government is going to be this performance, at least provide them adequate pay and mental welfare for all of the arduous work you put NHS frontline workers through long before and including the pandemic. I’m saying that not because I wanted to spew my own diatribe but because that’s pretty much what Dua Lipa said as the Queen herself made sure to not only have one of the best performances of the night but also deliver some of the longest and most meaningful victory speeches, in which she dedicated her awards to individuals you may not have even heard about who have served their local and national community on a certain scale. Charities were often brought up, whether it’s Boy George blessing the rains down in Africa much like he patronisingly did on the at-best misguided, at-worst maliciously ignorant “Do They Know it’s Christmas?” all those years ago. Proceeds from Years & Years and Elton John’s performance will go to charity, as will those of Rag’n’Bone Man and P!nk’s “Anywhere Away from Here” (which is actually a genuinely good song live rather than on studio recording). Rag’n’Bone Man may have the biggest impact next week on the charts because he had both the closing performance and the album boost, so watch out for that on Friday.

Speaking of that, this awards show was on a Tuesday, meaning its chart impact will be muted or at least split between two tracking weeks – although I do think this is the type of event that can help a song have some mid-week rebound. The impact of the BRIT Awards as a whole intrigues me – I mean, it has much less prestige than the GRAMMYs and was known for its campy chaos. It’s never been about awarding credibility or artistic reputation, even if Taylor Swift may have thought it was in her semi-inspiring speech, it’s always just about putting on a fun, extravagant show. Money should probably be pumped into something more representative of Britain – the only Scottish man who spoke was Lewis Capaldi – but as we have this tradition, we might as well engage and enjoy the mindlessness of it all. The cynic in me says it’s fake-woke circle-jerks for millionaire popstars but I can never watch it and conclude that it’s anything as deep as that. I mean, it started with Coldplay sounding like hand gel and featured a sea shanty acting as a roast of the guests but still had some serves and looks from everyone on the red carpet and somehow managed to get Michelle Obama to big up The Weeknd for two minutes straight, so it’s doing something right. In the nicest way possible, the BRITs this year were very lame and very gay, but that’s the purpose they will always need to fill in pop culture. See you on Saturday!

[hkvoyage]

Fic: Butterfly Wings - Chapter 42 - Epilogue - Complete

Story summary A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU. Rating for this chapter: General (overall story is mature) Word count for this chapter: 5,679 Can also be read on A03 / FF Masterpost is here. The fantastic artwork produced by Cassie at CC-Graphics can be here.   Thank you to the amazing @lilyvandersteen for the beta work and support. ***** “If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story” - Orson Welles

Seven Years Later

“Kurt, you’re not going to believe this. I just got off the phone with Matt Bomer. He wants to commission two bracelets for his and Simon Halls’ wedding anniversary. He said that money was no object.” “When’s their anniversary?” “In May.” “That sounds doable, Tina. As a matter of fact, I’ve been tinkering away at a new design. I’ll send you a preliminary sample next week. Tell Matt that his anniversary bracelet will be part of my new line, but he’ll be the first one – after Blaine, of course – to have the limited-edition bracelet in precious metals. How’s everything else going?” “Our back order will keep the factory going for the next three months. The Pride bracelets are still selling like hotcakes. I’m getting all the quarterly figures together for when you and Blaine visit in two weeks’ time, and I think you’ll be very happy.” After discussing forecasted silver prices and the inferior jewelry findings recently delivered from China, they end their call. After graduating FIT, Kurt had decided to start a jewelry business labeled ‘Buckeye Designs’ and sold brooches on Etsy. His dad thought he had named the business after his favorite Ohio football team. Only Blaine knew the real reason for the name – after all, it’s Kurt’s favorite butterfly. On their wedding day, Kurt surprised Blaine with a bracelet using differently colored precious metals to create a rainbow. Blaine was thrilled with it, but refused to take off his silicone rainbow wristband, and he now proudly wears both. Blaine urged him to sell his version of the rainbow bracelet on his Etsy site. Once Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka bought them, and the bracelets were noticed in a Vogue photo spread, it became an instant bestseller. The demand was so great that Kurt couldn’t keep up. After discussing it with Blaine, he called Tina to enlist her help. Tina immediately quit her job at Vogue – she wasn’t happy there once Blaine had left. She established a workshop in Long Island and ran the company, and it now has its own website and also sells through Amazon. This allows Kurt to focus on creating designs and infusing capital when it’s needed. It also means that Kurt can work anywhere he wishes and set his own hours. It works perfectly into Kurt’s life. Kurt looks at the clock on the workshop’s wall and starts tidying up his area. He’s finishing earlier than usual, but tonight is very special. He walks to the tiny store front and covers the display cabinets. The shop is tucked away in a little back street in Key West’s historical district. It’s one of those places you need to know about, otherwise you’ll miss it. The only reason Kurt keeps the shop is so that he can see people’s reactions to his work first-hand without them knowing he’s the designer. Kurt sends a text to Blaine saying that he’s on his way home and asking whether he should pick up anything. In record time, Kurt receives a reply: Nothing needed except you. Hurry up! I miss you <3 <3 <3. Kurt smiles at the text, wondering how he got so lucky with Blaine. Even after seven or so years together, his heart races at the thought of going home to his sweet Blaine. Kurt locks the front door to his store and peeks into the window display of the art gallery next door. His chest bursts with pride when he sees a few of Blaine’s photos on display. They certainly have fun exploring the Florida Keys and knocking things off their bucket list. Blaine’s passion for photography is still strong and he continues to be inspired by the vibrant colors of Florida’s subtropics. “Kurt! Buena suerte (good luck). Toda la familia (the whole family) will be watching tonight,” the local Cuban cigar and bar owner shouts as he passes by. “Gracias, Martín. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.” Kurt loves that he knows all the local shop owners in the area and that they’re supportive of Blaine and himself. Sexual orientation isn’t relevant in Key West, and the LBGT community seamlessly blends into all aspects of the island’s laid-back lifestyle. When Kurt was finishing his associate’s degree at FIT, Blaine took a one-month job in Miami as a back-up musician for Jason Derulo’s latest album. At the end of the month, Kurt flew to Florida for a long weekend in Key West. They fell in love with the island and the lifestyle, and decided to move there once Kurt graduated. Kurt crosses the street and heads into Kermit’s Bakery. After a thorough taste-testing throughout Key West, leaving no shop or restaurant untouched – and Blaine groaned when there were semi-finals and finals – Kurt reached the verdict that Kermit’s has the very best key lime pie. Kurt had always thought that cheesecake was the best thing on earth, but now he knows better. The rich tangy key lime filling with the crispy base now holds the number one spot. The best part is that Blaine’s lips pucker with every tart bite that he takes, and Kurt knows exactly what to do with those puckered lips – kiss them senseless. Kurt purchases the key lime pie, hoping that the Anderson-Hummel household will have something to celebrate tonight. Kurt walks the few blocks to Mallory Square, the main plaza and the tourists’ focus for the famous Key West sunsets. He walks past El Meson de Pepe, where he and Blaine are the kings of the dance floor every Tuesday on salsa night. Pepe himself jokes that he could charge people to watch them move their hips together. Kurt walks on board the small old ferry and takes a seat on the wooden bench. It’s a three-minute ferry ride home. When they first arrived in Key West, they rented a house in the historical district, but found the island too busy. Blaine had been nervous around so many tourists with cameras. After house hunting in the area, they found the perfect lot on Sunset Island. The 27-acre island is only 500 yards away from Key West, but it feels like another world. There are fifty private homes and one exclusive resort on the island with strict access controls. They purchased a vacant lot on the waterfront and then spent a year building their dream house. As the ferry approaches Sunset Island, Kurt can make out two silhouettes on the dock. When it finally anchors, Kurt races off to be with his family. “Papa! Papa! Daddy said we could visit the butterflies on Saturday!” Kurt feels stubby arms wrap around his legs. Kurt rolls his eyes fondly at Blaine and groans “Not again” before giving him a kiss. Blaine laughs as he takes Kurt’s messenger bag and the key lime pie. “You know you like the butterflies.” Kurt picks up three-year-old Lizzie and tosses her in the air before kissing her. Since the first time they held her, minutes after she was born, she has been the central focus of their lives. When they were looking for a surrogate mother, Rachel had insisted that she wanted to carry their children. They will always be indebted to her for giving them Lizzie and the baby due next month. They get into their golf cart – no cars are allowed on the island. Blaine drives and Lizzie sits on Kurt’s lap. “Tell me the wedding story. Pleaasse, Papa,” Lizzy pleads. Kurt smiles and gives Lizzy a gentle squeeze. Even though he has told the story countless times, she never tires of hearing it. “There was a special area on the beach set up for us, and our closest friends and family. I walked down a white carpet that was covered in rose petals. At the end of the path was a special pagoda covered with flowers, where I saw your Daddy waiting for me. He looked like Prince Charming, wearing a black tux. His hair…” “I know! I know! Grandpa said stuff. Nana cried. You and Daddy kissed. Now get to the good part!” Blaine chuckles, “That was the good part, angel.” Kurt presses a lingering kiss to Blaine’s cheek and whispers, “No, the good part was later that night. Maybe I can give you a refresher course this evening?” “Come on, Papa. Stop kissing Daddy!” “When Daddy and I kissed, hundreds of butterflies were released into the air. They fluttered around us and then flew towards the sun.” Lizzy lets out a big sigh. “I wanna wedding like that. Only I’m gonna be a princess and wear glass slippers. And I’m gonna ride a white horse into a castle.” Blaine stops the golf cart in front of their house and lifts Lizzy from Kurt’s lap. He opens the white picket gate and says, “Come on, princess. Go inside and wash your hands. It’s almost time to eat.” When Kurt joins him on the veranda, Blaine pulls him into his arms and gives him a kiss that he can feel down to his toes. When Blaine finally releases Kurt, he murmurs, “I expect the advanced and intensive refresher course.” They giggle as they enter the reception area. The two-story house is light and airy, with honey-colored wooden floors and ceiling fans throughout. Blaine’s baby grand piano is situated in what is usually used as a formal dining area. Kurt had wanted to make the guest cottage in the backyard Blaine’s special music room, but Blaine had insisted he wanted to play the piano and still be around his family. Amy now lives in the guest cottage, giving them the privacy they need at night for refresher courses. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Amy shouts from the kitchen. She had moved with them to Key West when they built their house. They now have someone come to clean twice a week, allowing Amy to help with Lizzy and keep the Anderson-Hummel household humming along. Even though it’s February, it’s plenty warm enough to eat outside on the patio. Kurt and Blaine have a simple meal of conch chowder and salad, while Lizzy eats chicken fingers, carrots and peas. “I don’t wanna eat yucky veggies!” Lizzy protests as she pushes the plate away from her and pouts. “Come on, sugar plum,” Blaine coos. “Veggies are good for you.” Blaine starts singing as he pushes the plate back towards Lizzie. Grab a plate and add some peas Then a carrot and a broccoli Take a bite, chew it around Lovely taste, crunchy sound Eat your vegetables they’re so much fun to munch! Kurt smiles as he watches Blaine sing and Lizzie quite happily eats all the vegetables on her plate. It’s a well-tuned dance that they play every mealtime. Blaine is about to go into the music studio as Mr. Healthy and record a children’s album. He has composed songs about pancakes, snappy beans, sweetie corn, table manners and the like. Blaine certainly has a way with children, and is very happy staying at home with Lizzy during the day. Whilst Kurt needs to go to a separate and quiet space to be his most creative, his husband is the opposite. Blaine takes inspiration from the little things in their daily life and squeezes in song writing during naptime and weekends. This perfectly suits Kurt – after all, he has a regular tea party with Lizzie on Sunday mornings, complete with scones and cucumber sandwiches (with the crusts removed, of course). After dinner, Kurt gives Lizzy her bath. She has bubbles, color bath drops and rubber toys. It’s almost impossible to get her out, and usually Kurt loves this one-on-one time each day. But tonight, Kurt is working to a strict timetable. He goes through the usual routine, but he does not give in to Lizzy’s pleas for an extra goodnight song. When Lizzy’s eyes shut and her breathing evens out, Kurt adjusts the covers and gives her a peck on the forehead. Kurt quietly leaves her room, closing the door very slowly, and joins Blaine and Amy in the main living area. The large flat-screen TV is turned on to the Grammy Awards. “You’ve got the DVR going?” Kurt asks, plopping down next to Blaine on the sofa. Amy nods and whispers, “Shhh! They’re showing the interview with Rachel when she walked down the red carpet.” Kurt sees a heavily pregnant Rachel discussing her return to Funny Girl after she delivers the baby. “God, Blaine. Rachel’s so huge and there’s still a month to go. Do you think she’s going to have twins?” “That’s not what the scans say, but I would love to have two babies that look like you,” Blaine replies. Blaine is Lizzie’s biological father - it’s so obvious with her curls and hazel eyes. They initially agreed that they would have two children, one sired from each of them. Recently, Blaine has been begging to adopt an older child, someone who could benefit from their love. They agreed to put the discussion on the backburner until their second child is one year old. Kurt knows that eventually they will have a family full of children. The Grammy broadcast returns to the stage. LL Cool J and Ed Sheeran are announcing nominations. LL Cool J rips open the envelope, “And the song of the year is ‘You Move Me’, composed by BK Viceroy.” Kurt leaps into Blaine’s lap, kissing him all over his face, chanting, “You did it! You did it! Oh my god! I’m married to a Grammy winner!” Before they can get carried away, they look back at the TV. Marley Rose is walking onto the stage to accept the award. BK Viceroy asked me to accept this award on his behalf. Personally, it’s been an incredible journey to go from a jazz nightclub singer to performing the song of the year. BK Viceroy is the most talented songwriter I know and composes songs that anyone who’s in love – or wants to be – can really connect with. BK wishes me to thank the love of his live, the inspiration for the song, the inspiration for his everything. BK and I are collaborating on our next album, so watch this space. Thank you. Kurt’s eyes tear up listening to Marley Rose’s acceptance speech. “You know that the song was written about you.” Kurt nods his head, but that doesn’t stop the tears from flowing. ***** One month later “Don’t you cry, my sweet Tracy Michael. Papa and I are going to take care of you and love you until the end of time,” Blaine coos, cradling the newborn baby in his arms. He and Kurt took him from the hospital yesterday, and they’re staying in a self-catering apartment in New York City for another two days. Blaine’s mother has taken Lizzy to Alice’s Tea Cup for afternoon tea, and Kurt is catching up on his sleep in the bedroom. “You’re a real natural,” Michael comments, who’s in the kitchenette preparing the bottle. “I love being a dad, but honestly, I couldn’t do it without Kurt. He keeps me grounded. While I throw myself into the moment, Kurt reminds me about what matters in our lives.” Michael hands Blaine the bottle, which Tracy greedily latches onto. “I’ve always been proud of your accomplishments - at Dalton, Harvard and Vogue. The Grammy award proves that you can do anything that you set your mind to. But honestly, Blaine, seeing you in a loving marriage… watching you raise children… well, that’s in an entirely different league. I wish I could have been the same sort of father.” “Hey, that’s not true. Look at us now. Sometimes a struggle is necessary before really connecting. God knows, that’s the way it was with Kurt.” Blaine takes a good hard look at his father. SONY Records donating a percentage of the sales proceeds from his songs to the Monarch Foundation has allowed them to move along at record speed. After the sixth Monarch House was opened, Michael quit his job at the insurance company. He’s now the chairman of the Foundation and overseas operations in nineteen locations. There are plans to open a Monarch House in Tate, Georgia – the first presence in the South. Michael has been inspirational to other parents of LBGT kids, telling his story of finally accepting Blaine for who he really is. “Hey, Dad…. Once Lizzy and Tracy get older, I’m sure that they’re going to throw a curve ball or two at Kurt and me. Some things that we’re not prepared for and don’t know how to deal with. Could I come to you for advice?” “Yeah, I’d like that. I have learnt a few tricks over the past seven years.” ***** They arrived back in Key West two days ago, and Blaine is relieved that the flight went so well, with Tracy sleeping the full three hours. Lizzie now wants to be a flight attendant, with glass slippers and a tiara, of course. After feeding Tracy, Blaine lays him down gently in the crib set up in the nursery. Even though Blaine had wanted to have the crib in their bedroom, Kurt wouldn’t hear of it. He claimed he needs his beauty sleep and their down time alone. Blaine couldn’t say no to that. Blaine heads to the patio and sits in the lounge chair, and just as his eyes start drooping, his phone starts ringing. “Congratulations, man. How’s my godson doing?” “Tracy is gorgeous, Sam. He has Kurt’s beautiful blue eyes. I pray each night that his eyes won’t change color over the next few months. He mainly sleeps, eats and poops - but that’s how it is the first few weeks.” “Getting much sleep?” “Enough. Amy takes the day shift, Kurt the evenings, and I’m on from midnight till 6 a.m. We’re managing.” “Well, tonight, when you do the midnight feed, you’ve got look at the new story that JiffyFeels started.” “A new story?” Blaine asks. “There’s only one chapter posted so far. Biffy is a shy nerd who gets bullied in high school and works at the local bakery on weekends. Jamie’s a bad boy, and when he gets out of juvie, he’s transferred to the same high school. Jamie’s openly gay, and when he goes to his first class, he sits down next to Biffy and hits on him. Biffy is shocked and brushes off his comments, but secretly he thinks that Jamie is hot. The story’s rated explicit, so I’m sure stuff will go down pretty soon.” “I’ll read it tonight.” “During the 3 a.m. feed, you can read the new one-shot by KrianFeels. It’s 20,000 words and it’s epic. They’ve got this superhero fantasy thing going on in the bedroom, but it’s got a twist. Brian is dressed up as the superhero and is tied to the bed and Kevin is the evil one, having his wicked way with Brian. He…” “Enough, Sam! Don’t spoil it for me. I’m not sure this is the sort of thing I should be reading with a newborn baby in my arms.” “Dude, relax! Don’t you know that Tracy can’t read yet?” Blaine rolls his eyes, because the problem is that certain parts of his body would get far too interested when he’s reading. Even though he and Sam haven’t lived in the same place for years, they still manage to remain close. “So tell me, Sam, how’s the filming going?” “It’s really happening! Everything’s on schedule. Mark September 6th in your calendar – that’s when the pilot is going to air.” Sam’s Surfs!Up webcomic now has over a million followers. When Sam had attended the Swarm Con convention last year, a production company offered a substantial amount for the TV rights. It is now being filmed in LA, and Sam is the lead story advisor. After finishing the phone conversation with Sam, Blaine shouts for Amy and Kurt to come join him. “Two updates, Amy? Where do you find the time?” “For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been a writing ninja. I knew I’d be busy when Tracy arrived. I posted them when Rachel went into the hospital.” “I can’t believe that Sam hasn’t guessed yet that you are both KrianFeels and JiffyFeels,” Blaine remarks. “Don’t tell him, Blaine!” Kurt shrieks. “Naw, there’s no fun in that,” Blaine chuckles. “A superhero bedroom fantasy one-shot?” “Kurt had a stroke of genius to replace the eye mask with a blindfold.” Blaine gives Kurt a pointed look. Kurt blushes and shrugs behind Amy’s back. Once Kurt had found out that Amy was posting smutty fanfic, he volunteered to be her beta. Whenever Blaine finds the two of them in the kitchen, whispering and giggling, he knows that they’re brainstorming new story ideas. It has certainly kept things interesting in the bedroom. Once Tracy starts sleeping through the night, Blaine knows for sure that Nightbird will rise again. ***** Blaine is panting as he enters the house after his run on the beach. He goes to the kitchen and Amy hands him the power smoothie she’s just finished making. “All good here?” “I put down wee Tracy for his morning nap ten minutes ago. I’ll pick up Lizzy from preschool in a couple of hours.” Blaine nods and heads to the patio to cool down and drink his smoothie. As a man in his late thirties, he knows how important it is to keep fit and healthy. Blaine wants to be with his family for a very long time. It was easy to replace morning runs in Central Park with runs along the beach. He keeps up with yoga, which Kurt very much approves of. Now that the ocean is at end of their back garden, Blaine enjoys swimming as well. Blaine admires the lantana shrubs in the garden that are in bloom with red and yellow flowers. Kurt planted them years ago because they attract butterflies. The pool and Jacuzzi look very tempting, but Blaine discards the idea of jumping in. He’ll wait until Lizzie comes home and they can have a swim together after lunch. It’s been challenging to combine parenthood with his songwriting, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. While some of his friends tease him about being a househusband, Blaine wants to be home while their children are still young. Blaine had really enjoyed recording the Mr. Healthy children’s album while they were in New York City, waiting for Tracy to be born. Blaine decided long ago that his music career was going to be spent behind the scenes writing songs for others. The royalties are more than enough to keep them in the lifestyle they want, with regular savings tucked away for retirement and college funds. Blaine writes songs under a pseudonym – he doesn’t want fame or media attention. However, when he came up with the idea of creating a Mr. Healthy album to help parents with fussy eaters, he couldn’t resist singing the songs himself. Lizzy would have been so disappointed if he hadn’t. Blaine mulls over the Skype conversation he’ll have next week with the music producers. He’s looked at their proposals for a tie-in TV program, and it’s a very interesting idea. Blaine is thinking of setting up a production company and hiring someone to create the show. He thinks that Sebastian Smythe might be the perfect person for the job. After his truce with Sebastian, Blaine meets him for lunch whenever he and Kurt are in New York City for Buckeye Design’s quarterly board meetings. Sebastian is still a very generous patron of the Monarch Foundation. Blaine now understands better how he ticks, ever since Sebastian told him how he was outed the summer before high school. Sebastian has said many times that the editor-in-chief job at Elle isn’t as interesting now as it was when Blaine headed up Vogue. Sebastian doesn’t have it in him to keep up a serious rivalry with Isabelle Wright. Maybe moving into television is exactly what Sebastian needs. Sure, he has no experience, but Sebastian is smart and will soon pick it up. His business acumen will help keep the concept on the right path. Blaine chuckles when he thinks that Sebastian has gone through every hot gay male model from New York City to Milan. Maybe hot gay actors will be his next challenge. In whichever direction Mr. Healthy goes, Blaine will make sure that it somehow includes his brother. Cooper met Cassie when she was an extra on The Young and Restless. Within six months, they were married and expecting their first child. Cooper quit the show when their second daughter was born. Cooper’s on-screen wife murdered his character, and it was epic. She served him a strawberry milkshake full of sedatives before bludgeoning him to death with his golf clubs. She then rolled his body up in a carpet and had it placed in their storeroom in their Park Avenue complex. Cooper’s dramatic death scene won him a Daytime Emmy Award. Cooper capitalized on this fame and opened up an acting school in LA, where he gives master classes. He supplements his income by doing voice-overs for Doritos. Blaine is sure that Cooper can supply students to audition for the Mr. Healthy show, as long as they don’t do too much pointing. ***** As Blaine reads the latest Vogue issue, he glances over from time to time at Lizzy cooing at Tracy, who’s in the baby swing. Blaine likes the direction Vogue is going under Isabelle’s leadership – the magazine now has a blend of fashion and thought-provoking stories. “Hey, bud. Can I get you anything?” Burt asks, as he enters the living room. “No, I’m good. Come have a seat,” Blaine replies. Burt arrived yesterday to spend time with his grandchildren. He retired from politics three years ago. Burt still works at the garage, but has given Timmy more responsibilities, allowing him to visit them often. Burt says that Key West is good for his heart. While Kurt thinks that his dad means his medical condition, Blaine knows that Burt means that they’re food for his soul. “Have you heard from Bentley recently?” Blaine asks. “Yeah, we’re headed to Lake Superior in June for our annual fishing trip. It’s the perfect time of year to catch trout and salmon.” When Blaine and Kurt had moved to Key West, Isabelle quickly snapped up Bentley to be her personal driver. “Next year, you two must have your annual fishing trip in Key West. You need to check out deep sea fishing. I want a stuffed marlin hanging outside the guest cottage.” When Blaine hears a ping, he grabs his phone and quickly swipes across the screen, eager to read the text message. I’ll be home in an hour. Can’t wait until you’re back in my arms again - K xxxx Blaine smiles at his phone, knowing that the four kisses are for each person in their family. Over the years, Kurt has become quite the master at cheesy texts. Blaine looks lovingly at his screensaver, which is a photo of him, Kurt, Lizzy, and Tracy the first day they returned to Key West. He snaps out of it when he hears Burt clear his throat. “That was Kurt. He’ll be home in an hour. We usually meet him at the dock, if you want to join us.” “How about I stay here with Lizzy and Tracy, and you go on your own? Maybe take the boat out and enjoy the sunset.” “Are you sure?” “Amy and I will be fine holding down the fort. Go spend some time on your own with Kurt.” Blaine jumps up and nods, before running to their bedroom. He wants to look his best for Kurt. He takes a quick shower and uses a little hair product to tame the curls. He puts on his favorite board shorts and the Surfs!Up T-shirt that Sam gave him last Christmas. It’s a size too small, so it clings to his upper body - Blaine loves how Kurt’s eyes darken when he wears it. He pulls out some clothes for Kurt to wear during their sunset sail, knowing that he won’t want to wrinkle his work clothes. When Blaine returns downstairs, Amy has an ice-chest ready for him. Blaine peeps inside and sees drinks and little containers filled with finger food. He then takes a deep breath to tell Lizzy the evening plans. “Hey, angel. I’m going to meet Papa by myself at the dock today.” Lizzy looks up from her coloring book. “Grandpa told me. We’re gonna play Chutes and Ladders, and then have a special picnic in the backyard. You and Papa aren’t invited.” Blaine chuckles and silently mouths ‘thank you’ to Burt. Blaine grabs two beach towels and drives the golf cart to the main dock. Blaine glances at the time on his phone – there’s still ten minutes before the ferry arrives. Blaine reflects upon their decision to build a house on Sunset Island. When they decided to marry, Kurt had wanted to renovate a large house in the historical district of Key West. However, Blaine wasn’t comfortable with living so close to all the tourists. It would have only been a matter of time before fans would have found out where they live, so Blaine suggested that they look for a place at one of the other Keys. If Kurt had still been the way he was the year they met, he would have assumed that Blaine wasn’t happy with their relationship and was getting cold feet about the marriage, and Kurt would have fled to Lima or far-off lands. Thankfully, Kurt has changed and matured over the years, so he took the time to find out why Blaine felt that way. Kurt came up with the perfect solution of building a house on Sunset Island – it gave Blaine a sense of security, but allowed them to enjoy the Key West lifestyle as well. When they signed the deed to the vacant lot, Blaine knew that they could work through anything. There have been discussions about whether to send Lizzy to private or public school (Kurt won that one – Lizzy’s already on the list for the best private education), and how to keep their careers in check so they don’t rule their lives. What makes their day-to-day marriage work is their commitment to figure things out together. As the ferry is getting closer to the island, Blaine feels butterflies in his stomach. When he sees Kurt leaves the ferry, Blaine’s breath hitches at the beauty before his eyes. Kurt looks incredible and effortlessly sexy in his dress trousers and short-sleeved shirt. There’s a scarf draped around his neck, secured by one of his signature brooches. When Kurt smiles at him, a warm tingly feeling flows through Blaine’s body. There is so much caring and love in Kurt’s eyes. Kurt wraps his arms around him and pulls him in tight, and Blaine’s arms immediately clutch onto Kurt. Blaine can feel Kurt rub his back gently as he nuzzles closer into Kurt’s neck. Blaine sighs, feeling as if he were the one who had just arrived home. When Blaine tries to nibble that spot that gets Kurt feeling good, Kurt pulls back. “Where’s the rest of the welcome committee?” “Your dad and Lizzy are having a special picnic in the backyard. Amy’s looking after Tracy in the house. I’m on strict orders not to come home for at least a couple of hours. Let’s take the boat out to watch the sunset.” “God, that sounds so freaking good. I miss our alone time together.” Blaine drives the golf cart to the private dock where they moor their 17’ sailboat. Blaine plans to go to the Ft Lauderdale Boat Show next year to buy a bigger model that will accommodate their growing family. As Blaine makes the safety checks, Kurt artfully changes into his swim trunks beneath the beach towel. When Kurt pulls on his rash guard swim shirt, Blaine’s eyes rake over his body, loving how it fits so snugly. Kurt is still very careful about protecting his skin from the sun, but has loosened up significantly since they moved to Key West. Blaine loves the freckles that now grace Kurt’s face – they’re like sun kisses for each happy time they’ve had together. Blaine pulls up the anchor and starts the engine until they are a few minutes away from shore. He then hoists the masts up, kicks off the engine and sails towards nearby Wisteria Island. Blaine shares the details of his day and what he did with the children. Kurt confirms that he signed up Lizzy for the summer dance program during his lunchtime. Kurt excitedly talks about the new café that is opening up one street over from his workshop, and Blaine makes a mental note to reserve a table for two on its grand opening day. When the boat reaches the little hidden bay at Wisteria Island, Blaine drops the anchor and hoists down the sails. Blaine pours the mojitos into two plastic tumblers, and Kurt spreads out the food nibblies. Kurt kicks his feet up and scooches along the cushioned bench so that his back hits the end, and opens up his arms. Blaine immediately sits in front of him with their feet tangled together along the bench. He loves it when Kurt holds him like this. “I love you,” Kurt whispers. “I love you too, husband… papa of our children… lover… best friend,” Blaine replies. “When I was younger, I had thought that New York City was the only place for me. But now, I’m living my personal teenage dream,” Kurt sighs. Blaine squeezes Kurt’s arms that are wrapped around him. He’s living his dream as well, and life is good… Life is perfect. Blaine looks at the red burning sun as it sinks into the sea. For all the gay bashers, rivals, spies, and especially the paparazzi… They can’t touch them or what they have. *fin* Author notes Author notes Song Blaine sings to Lizzy at dinner – ‘Eat Your Vegetables’ by Little Baby Bum. 

Nine months, 42 chapters, 210k words later… and the story is now completed.  This story has been an incredible journey, for Blaine and Kurt, and myself. There will be no sequel to this story. I believe I’ve left Kurt and Blaine in a very happy place. However, I’m open to writing one-shots so please give me any ideas you might have. 

Hopefully, I’ve given you many hours of enjoyment reading this story. Please take a minute or two to let me know what you think in a review. Whether you’ve read the Epilogue ten minutes after I posted it or ten plus years later, I’ll read it. If you decide to reblog’, it will also bring a huge smile to my face. 

Before I wrote this story, I thought this was my one and only Klaine fic, so I went for the long multi-chapter story with my favorite elements included. Go big or go home was my motto! It turns out, I have another Klaine fic to tell – a Downton Abbey inspired AU. If you’re interested, follow me as a writer to get a notification for ‘Westerville Abbey’. I’ll start drafting it next month and won’t post the first chapter until the story is fully drafted. I promise that you won’t need to have watched Downton Abbey to enjoy this historical AU set in the 1910s in Britain. Look out for it sometime this summer. 

Thank you to @lilyvandersteen for her beta work, Cassie @cc-graphics for the fic artwork, @sunshineoptimismandangels for giving me the encouragement to write this fic at the start, and @lady--divine for politely answering  random questions and reviewing my first smut scene. I also thank every single person who left a review or messaged me. Your words of encouragement and constructive feedback helped to keep me motivated and wake up early on Saturday mornings to post a new chapter.    

[shadowtarot]

Outsiders Oneshot: Cupid’s Arrow?

The following is an original work. Given that it is not Persona based, I am putting this all in a read more if you do not wish to read it. The world itself is still very much in the works so I cannot answer many questions you might have. Think of this as a preview of sorts. 

The classrooms of Wyvern High begin to fill in with a river of green uniforms, poring from the colorful cityscape of New Fate City. The city itself rests beneath one of the many places known as a Grail society, hovering like a UFO above the original structure. As the sea of teenagers funnel in, a blue haired young man is listening to music on his smartphone. Seventeen year old Shintaro Nyogama, with music blaring from a band not but three cities over doesn’t even seem to notice at first when a hand is slammed down on his right shoulder. He jumps, almost dropping his phone.

“Ah!” He glares, before realizing who it is. “Oh...it’s just you Koda. What’s up?” His blond haired friend, who has to wear an eye patch on his right eye smiles widely.

“Did you find out what powers your cross in your left eye gives you yet? Saiyumi down the street figured out she can walk through fire an-” But Shintaro cuts him off before he can finish, letting out a long sigh.

“I’ve told you before Koda, I don’t think I have powers. And I don’t really want any. I mean you don’t, you’re one of the lucky few to be born blind in one eye.” He shrugs. “Plus, everyone that has powers has some sort of major health drawback...and I don’t want to shorten my life before I do what I’ve been planning for years..”

“Yeah yeah, break into the Grail City above us and try to save the people. But like...you do realize that they might not want to be saved, right?” Koda says, pouting a bit. “If they really were being treated bad up there, you’d think we’d hear a sign by now. It’s been almost Twenty Years.”

“There has to be something! You’ve seen how strange the P.S.S. act! I once asked one of them if they knew what tomorrows forecast was, and they didn’t even know what a TV was! A TV, Koda!”

Heading to history, Shintaro’s class starts talking about the events that have transpired in the last twenty years. While everyone else is taking notes, Shintaro seems extremely displeased with what is being said.

“And so with the proposition given by the man running the Grail cites above to limit the exposure of the Gama Meteorites, The Overseer started watching after the world’s governments to lead us into a constant stream of peace that has lasted us until this very day. Keeping food processing, and general factory work above allows for more freedom down here. We’ve never seen happiness like this in ages.” The teacher states.

Shintaro lets out a long and loud yawn. “Yeah, sure. But what about the families up above? Are they just as happy? And, how come the P.S.S. don’t know about basic things like TV and movies?  Why can’t we join the society above? If we’re at peace why do the P.S.S. need guns? And seriously, a ‘Proposition’ allowed one guy to take over the world’s government? I think that’s a load of bullcra-”

“Nyogama! That’s quite enough of your tinfoil hat theories! We had a unified government before the Overseer took over observations. That’s the end of this conversation. One more outburst like that and I’m sending straight back to Mr. Dolely.” The whole class laughs as Shintaro huffs.

“I know I’m right, you all are just too cozy in your creative freedom to realize that there are people out there who need help!” But all he earns is more laughter and a very annoyed teacher. Koda feels embarrassed for his friend.

As school starts to come to a close, Shintaro is stopped by two girls with braided black hair. Twins Mai and Mei, people who are a constant annoyance to him. The purple eyed one, Mai, gives him a snark filled smile. “Oh look, it’s Shintaro! The hero of the world! Savior of the Grail workers!” She laughs, which is joined by her sister.

“The people are shouting for their savior, Shintaro! They’re saying ‘Save us Dumbass Kenobi! You’re our only hope!’ “ Mei the blue eyed chimes in, having to hold her stomach as they both laugh even harder.

“Big talk for a pair of twins who’s only useful power is floating to compensate for being the size of toddlers.” Shintaro retorts. “I guess milk isn’t the cure for everything after all huh?”

The twins look enraged as the blue haired teen smiles and walks away, placing his earbuds in and turns up the volume. Koda walks beside him, sighing.

“Come on, dude...at this rate you’ll never get a girlfriend. The twins are the only girls at school who talk to you and it’s only to make fun of you! That doesn’t really sell you well.” Koda states, but Shintaro ignores him at first.

“Ugh, for the last time I just...I don’t care about romance outside of fiction. No one I have ever crushed on has ever supported my interests in getting into the cities above.” Shintaro mumbles.

“That’s cuz it’s all you ever talk about! You have other passions like video games and music. Why not tell a girl about those? Oh! You could always play Dreamcatcher for one of them.” Koda is practically bouncing with each step he takes as he talks. “You have such a great singing voice and so far only me, Kaido and Alibus know about it! If you shared it with more people then you’d be-”

“Totally embarrassed. I’m not gonna waste my time getting up on stage Koda. End of story.” Shintaro shakes his head, moving faster. “I have to head to work now man, later!”

Slipping into the family owned restaurant Dragon Burger & Suds, Shintaro gets dressed in his Yellow and blue uniform and heads to the cash register, only to be stopped by his rainbow Afro doning manager Foley. She’s a slightly heavy set dark skinned woman, but carries herself with the utmost dignity and pride. She places a ringed hand on Shintaro’s shoulder and gives him a motherly smile. “Shinny, you’re always arriving so gosh darn early to your shifts. Don’t you have like, a girl or anything to at least walk home after school? I’m getting worried for you, boy.”

The teen adverts his gaze, going quiet. Foley simply shakes her head and sighs. “Shin, you gotta at least try. I see you staring at one of our regulars now and then. What’s her name again...Tenshi?”

“Y-Yeah...what of it? I just like the same anime she does...that’s all…” He’s trying his best to change the subject, but it’s not getting past his boss.

“Shin, you need to ask her out. If you don’t at least give it a try...then you might miss your chance.” She’s gone full mother mode now. “I know it’s hard without your folks, but this is precisely why I’m trying to look out for you. If Tenshi stops in today, I’m gonna let you go on break early. Ask her out! Even if it’s just as simple as going to the local arcade.”

“And...if I don’t?” Shintaro asks, still not too keen on wanting to do this.

“If you don’t then I’ll upload that security tape of you singing during closing straight to every streaming site in the world. I have it saved under moments I want to keep.”

“What?! But I thought I timed it right-....ugh. F-Fine...I’ll...I’ll try. If she says no, then whatever.” He starts to head to the register once more, now silently hoping she doesn’t show up today.  

But then she does. Long red hair, braided to the side neatly with a tank top depicting a cat in sunglasses in space. Her purse on her shoulder is neat and clean as is the way she moves. Shintaro is staring once more as she takes her seat. Foley nods and quietly gestures to go to her. With a deep breath, he moves from the register and walks to her.

“I uh….hello...Tenshi. I’m Shintaro...we used to uh...have band together. We were both percussion.” He’s nervous, blushing visibly as he puts both hands in his pockets to avoid the evidence of them shaking.

“Shintaro...Shintaro...oh! You’re that kid that goes on about wanting to get through to the Grail Cities right? Everyone at school talks about it.” She giggles. This doesn’t bode well for him…

“I..I know, it sounds crazy but I really believe it. If you find it weird then I-”

“Oh I don’t. It’s quite admirable actually. I’ve been curious myself. Are they happy? Scared? What do they look like? And why can’t we join?” She places her arms on the table as she talks.

This makes Shintaro grin ear to ear, and he speaks his next words without thinking. “Well how about we talk more about this after my shift ends? We can go to my place and I can show you what I’ve observed so far.”

“That...sounds really fun actually! I’ll take you up on it Shintaro.” She smiles back at him. “What time?”

“Say about uh...six? It’s not a school night so it’s no big deal.” He shrugs.

“Great, then it’s a date.” With that, Tenshi gets her food to-go and leaves.

Shintaro watches her walk out, Foley placing a hand on his shoulder as the realization of what he just did finally sinks in. He takes off his hat...and screams into it.

He finally managed to ask a girl out..one that didn’t find his dream weird!

[limejuicer1862]

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Jeanette Powers

is the founding editor of Stubborn Mule Press and a poet/painter with seven full length poetry books published, along with numerous gallery exhibitions and online journal publishing credits. They also are a founding member of FountainVerse: KC Small Press Poetry Fest, an annual festival celebrating the indie press poetry world and which has featured international and US based presses over three days each October. Powers has been awarded grants for the poetry fest, as well as for the POP POETRY: #12poetsin12months series which featured 36 KC based poets over three years in collaboration with Spartan Press. Their personal work focuses on feelings, avoiding the political and investigating the internal wonderscape of relationships, family and emotions in a way designed to reach beyond identity while staying fiercely personal. Their newest book, “Sparkler Princess vs Suicidal Phoenix” is available through their website at jeanettepowers.com and you can follow Jeanette at @novel_cliche .

https://stubbornmulepress.com/

https://jeanettepowers.com/

The Interview

1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

I started writing very young. I was reading before even kindergarten and have always been a library brat. It just always felt right to be creative. I think all children probably feel this way, or at least do until they get a device in their hand. I didn’t get a phone till I was 32. Why did I start writing? I figured out that in my imagination, I am completely free. There are no hold barred, no limitations. I thrive in environments like that, and have just never stopped writing.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Wow, what an amazing question. I guess maybe was my fourth grade teacher, I definitely wrote my first poem in 4th grade. It was about a pegasus that I rode into the moonlight. But I wasn’t taken with poetry until high school when I was reading books from my school library. And I mean I really went through libraries as a kid, but this was the first one where I found the poetry section. I remember finding ee cummings and Sylvia Plath, but the poet that really took my breath away and whose book I stole was James Dickey. I think of that book often still, and here it is again. When I moved to the city after graduating, my education in poetry began in earnest, going to open mics and meeting lots of people who were voracious readers like me. It was a beautiful space in my life to be filled in with the classics and with a lot of the great modern Masters. The last decade though has been much more dedicated to reading living, contemporary poets.

2.1. Why did James Dickey take your breath away?

I suppose he sort of reminded me of my grandfather; the poems make sense, they have a weight of history, they have a certain amount of existential angst without it becoming pained or mewling. There’s also a joy and just a raw humanity. It’s not necessarily the poet that I would pick off my shelf today, but he sure set wheels going in my head.

3. How aware are and were you of the dominating presence of older poets traditional and contemporary?

I guess in some ways I’m not that aware of it then or now. It’s just all about what is relatable or interesting in terms of what I read or collect. I certainly see how, in many ways, older poets have more access to doing poetry because putting books out and touring are both expensive endeavors. I think many of the younger or marginalized poets just don’t have the opportunity to be read and heard due to financial restrictions. Which is why I’m always such a huge fan of the no-fee submissions. Of course it’s difficult for everyone in every way, but I very much feel that if you are going to dedicate yourself to building a press that is inclusive, then not charging fees is essential.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I have struggled with routines my whole life, always wanting and always being too much of a being made of chaos to make it work. However, what works best most of the time is for me to wake up in the morning and not think of anything else in the world except for my own art, whatever project I’m working on at the time. I can work anywhere from an hour to three or four if I get on a roll. Then I go do my make-money work, read, socialize, drink. Sometimes, though, a project really calls for something special in terms of a routine. For instance, I wrote a novella in 2018 which required me to start writing tipsy and then just get extremely drunk to write. I couldn’t get the rage of the main character any other way. It’s a strange and very intense book. I think of it like character acting. You have to inhabit the space of your novel. Of course, poetry is only inhabiting the space of me, so that is easier to access. And I also love writing alone at bars or coffeeshops. In fact, tomorrow I’m going to a city (three hours from my country home!) just to do that! ha!

5. Method writing! What motivates you to write?

Method writing. Yes. That’s cool. I’m motivated by feelings, the most. I love the idea of the common denominator between people, things that interrupt the binaries of the world, emotion and feeling is a huge one. I’m interested in excavating those deep feelings that mostly go just felt and not put into words. I’m not interested in writing lectures or proselytizing, I’m interested in the dirty, hypocritical, angelic, joyful paradox of self and believe that is what makes us human. I have a natural deep compassion, and what my therapist once described as a penchant for dissociative identity disorder. This makes it easy to write. Also, I’m not afraid of telling the truth of my own stories, in fact, I view my own life as a subject through which I can practice writing. I can see I’m veering between my poetry and my novels a lot here … in some ways they are interchangeable in terms of motivation. I want to recreate a feeling, sometimes the poem is the right vehicle, sometimes a painting, sometimes performance art, sometimes a novel. I do so love when the world of a novel is born in my head, it’s addicting. Of course, you better be addicted because they take so damn long and so much focus to write.

6. What’s your work ethic?

I met a new doctor the other day and after a couple minutes, he looked at me and said “you are very self motivated, aren’t you.” That’s right, I said. I have a mantra, it goes like this: do the job completely with all of your conviction. do not lose focus on the job. do not stop until the job is done. do not stop until the job is right. do not cut a corner. measure twice, cut once. There are many verses to this mantra! I’ve been called the Energizer Bunny, Galadriel’s Light, Perpetual Motion Machine, Force of Nature on the regular, my work ethic is almost a sickness. In fact, being a workaholic is likely a coping mechanism. I’m just lucky I’ve learned to love to fail, that the perfectionist is mostly gone, that the auto-masochist in me retired, and now I mostly work in just a pure state of joy. Creation is the best playground I’ve ever found, you won’t catch me coming in from recess.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

Not much, actually. I’ve always been a forward thinking person, and I’m voracious for what’s new, who’s new, what’s next. I go back and reread very rarely (unless it’s Dune, Neruda, Rilke, Atwood or Szymborska … or the Tao which I read daily). That’s why the indie press circuit fits my character so well, because the writers there are “the little makers of a pre-spice blast” (lol for Dune fans), contemporary writers are on the cusp of the now, their voice is my voice, this experience. It’s intoxicating. Same with painters and music and movies, I want what’s happening this moment (except for Duchamp, who was the greatest artist of all time!). I guess if I really thought about who influences me, it isn’t really another writer at all, it’s the lady pregnant with her fourth kid trying to buy a new car, it’s a tadpole turning into a frog, it’s falling in love, it’s a factory worker in January Toledo who can’t afford to heat his house, it’s how my dog can take so much pain without complaining, it’s how adopted children are really, really wanted. The list goes on and on, other writers, though? Just friends along for the ride, and bless them

7.1. Why go back and reread these authors?

Each of those authors have something distinct that touches me, they each feel like family. I suppose that’s why they stick around. You can’t get rid of family. Neruda for love, Rilke for philosophy, Wislawa for courage, Atwood for bite and range, Dune for religion. And the Tao because it’s the closest to truth I’ve ever found and I’ve searched far and wide. I once even got degrees in physics and math in the pursuit, to no avail.

8. Whom of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

My favorite working poet is Nadia Wolnisty, she has this capacity of turning a metaphor like no one and also just this clearly raging passion and her performances are stunning. Michelle Q. Smith, is my newest favorite, I ran across her book Ariel in Black and was blown away, she had this way of accessing older works and responding to them which is intoxicating. I also love the former poet laureate, Juan Felipe Herrara, his poems are so alive they are literally dancing off the page. George Wallace has that same power. Mike James and Daniel Crocker, both poets you’ve interviewed are spectacular for their honesty and imagination … and humor. I love humor.

9. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

I feel in some ways this is the same question as “how do you become a queer person?” … I just am. Bukowski once said “if it doesn’t come bursting forth, don’t do it.” I would add “find what comes bursting forth for you.” That’s the really difficult thing in the world, finding what you want. Do that, try everything, when it bursts forth, you’ll know that is what you should be doing.

10. Tell me about writing projects you are involved in at the moment.

Thanks so much for taking the time to interview me, Paul! It’s been fun chatting with you. I’m currently working on a screenplay called “Southern White Democrat” which tells the story of a white boy growing up in the Jim Crow south in a wealthy, politically connected family. It’s fascinating and dark. The research exposed so much of the deep trauma of American race relationships that I was unaware of, in fact, that many people are unaware of. It was intense and disappointing and I’m glad to have learned. It makes one want to learn everything, and proves “fake news” has been around a long time. I’m also writing poems as always, but no new plans to put out a book this year. I’ll be touring 2019 on my new and selected from Spartan Press, “Sparkle Princess vs. Suicidal Phoenix”. I’m writing a new novel, my sixth now, and what else … OH. Editing. I need to edit all those novels. It’s way more fun to write them than it is to edit them, ha!

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Jeanette Powers Wombwell Rainbow Interviews I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me.