#also i think today was my first time back in a theatre since 2019

[an-asuryampasya]

vikram: hitlist is so good what the fuck

also villians who care for their henchmen like family is SUCH a delicious trope :')

[cousticks]

what makes arthur rimbaud your favourite bsd character?

Alright this is the first of my set of asks I'm answering today. And also possibly my most fascinating. Rimbaud is a character I post a lot about, sure, but I'm really curious as to what makes you think he's my favorite? If anything, from my profile, I'd expect someone to assume its Verlaine.

Now, as to why he's a compelling character I like to write posts about? That I can certainly discuss. And its gonna be long, so I'll put a break in here.

Here's the thing. I don't anymore, but when I was first introduced to Rimbaud (when S3 came out) I absolutely hated him. This was back in 2019, but boy oh boy. That's the thing though, he still made me have a pretty strong emotional reaction, even then, before I'd even read the novel.

I want to detour for a second and talk about one of my favorite classes I've taken, with my favorite literature professor. The class itself doesn't matter here, but for it, we read Gone Girl. And if you've never read Gone Girl or seen the movie, all the context you need to know is that almost every single character in that sucks. They're all terrible people. And the next day I came into class literally stomping and screaming about how much I hated how it ended, and everything leading up to it. And my professor laughed and told the class about how after she'd seen the movie she was so mad about it she kicked a wall coming out of the theatre. She had the same reaction as me. And that's exactly why she taught that book. I still think about it often, because really, it was incredible how much emotion I got from it. I was downright pissed. And that's how I knew it was, in my opinion, well written, to get that much out of me.

Circling back to Rimbaud, I didn't really have as strong of a reaction as I did with that book, but he made me uncomfortable. I didn't like him. (I had similar progressions with Dazai, where I used to absolutely hate him, and with Verlaine as well after my first Stormbringer read.) A lot of the characters I originally despised are some of my favorites now. They get some emotion out of me, they give me a reaction, they catch my attention. Sometimes hate makes you think about something far more than more positive feelings do. (Even if that hate later converts into something kinder.)

Rimbaud... isn't my favorite, as far as which characters make me happy or so, but he's very very interesting to me and I do love to think about him. When you think about the grander scheme of BSD, we don't know the full backgrounds of a lot of characters, they just kind of show up as they are and we don't know much about their lives before the series. Rimbaud, we actually know a good deal, about how he had to give up his family and be presumed dead to work as a spy. He's also a little different, because we get a really interesting insight to his inner thoughts via his journal in Stormbringer. We don't get such an open, honest look into a character like that very often in this franchise. Between his lost, memory addled appearance in 15 and virtually his entire life fleshed out in Stormbringer, I didn't hate him anymore. He was interesting. There was so much to work with, and his own motivations and loyalties were fascinating. I made a post earlier about how sure, he tried to kill Chuuya (and Dazai in association) but really, both he and Chuuya were looking into Arahabaki for similar reasons, to unlock their past. All of the times we actually see Rimbaud, he's not that much different from a ghost, including at the end of Stormbringer when he's akin to an actual ghost, but we learn so much about him through his journals and Verlaine's memories.

He's lost, he's trying his best to figure out who he is based on what he could piece together, he's trying to find out what happened to the dear friend he thought he killed, he's likely been a spy during the Great War since his early teens, and he and Verlaine's entire story in the background of Stormbringer is such a special shade of tragic.

So, anon, I hope you kind of got your answer here about why I talk about Rimbaud so much. TL:DR, its hard not to when there's so much to talk about.

[sproutsotomeadventure]

°` Brothers Conflict - Passion Pink - Fuuto Walkthrough !

HI HI ! |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

Since i didn't saw any Fuuto Walkthrough, i did it myself and will now share my experience with all of you ! hehe It is important to tell you all, that i used the English Patch of Team Asahina on X/Twitter ! Here is the link for the patch !: https://github.com/AsahinaKyoudai/BrothersConflict ➽───────────────❥ Here are some important information to your favorite idol !

Fuuto is 14/15 years old and in his last year of middle school ! He is a full-time working idol and the second youngest brother ovo9

His Birthday is the 07th of July ! The best gifts for his birthday and for christmas would be the newly released DVD and the Action Video Game !

If you want to gift him something for the dates, only buy him the magazine ! He likes it the best◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

➽───────────────❥

Now tips for his route ! Try to have the family bar not over 10 to 20% ! Only focus on Fuuto and his events will trigger automatically ! This also means no gifting the other brothers something for their birthday

It is important that you buy the movie 8 !

I will colour the right answers in pink ! So watch out for some pink fonts hehe (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

➽───────────────❥

Here are the answers for the dates !

°` Aquarium:

Ema: (Me ?! With him ?!)   Answer: -> Squeeze it back  

Ema: (I never expected to hear that come out of Fuuto-kun's mouth...)   Answer: -> I appreciate you worrying about me  

Fuuto: You can't even see it, can you ?   Answer: -> it's a bid hard to see  

°` Zoo:  

Ema: I see in that case I want to go to ...   Answer: -> The Nocturnal Area  

Ema: (What should i do ?)  Answer: -> i won't give you any, if you don't need it  

Fuuto: ... This is why i don't like to touch animals !  Answer: -> Do you want to hold it ?  

°` Amusement Park: 

Ema: (... I only wanted to take a look ...)   Answer: -> Let's go home instead.  

Fuuto: So ? What attraction do you want to go see ? Answer: -> Ferris Wheel

Sadly i'm missing one date here ! If you don't see the answers here, make a quick save and try to find the right answer yourself ! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

°` Shopping Mall: 

Ema: (... He must be a little tired...)  Answer: -> ... i won't say anything 

Ema: (Let's see somewhere i want to go...)   Answer: -> Let's go sing karaoke 

Fuuto: Do you want the clothes on display there ?   Answer: -> I'm interested in them  

°` Movie Theatre:  

Fuuto: I want a cola. Come om, hurry up.   Answer: -> All right.  

Ema: (The Movie i want to watch is ...)  Answer: -> a romance movie  

Ema: (Ah ! Fuuto-kun's head is on my shoulder ..!)   Answer: -> Leave him as is  

°` Park:  

Ema: (So even Fuuto-kun thinks about it ...)   Answer: -> You should just take it easy today.  

Ema: ... I'm sure he'd be good at some sort of athletic club  Answer: -> How about the dance club ?  

Ema: What should we do ... ?   Answer: -> let's keep it just the two of us. 

➽───────────────❥

For the Stay Mode i opened this Guide ! https://everythingotome.wordpress.com/2019/04/21/brocon-fuuto-route/

Only start the Sleepovers when you have 5 hearts with him !

Since you will be probably playing the english patch, i "translated" the dialogues so you know which bottoms to press ! (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭

First one:  

He will react very annoyed at first but will be like a puppy after you talk about late night snacks hehe  

Ema: ... you din't have to be so obvious about it ... -> Square, Circle, Square  

Second one: 

It is actually very cute that Ema wants to talk to Fuuto since she missed him thanks to his busy schedule ! 

Ema: ... So i was wondering if we could talk for a bit. -> X, Circle, Square  

Third one:  

Ema wants to spend the night with Fuuto, you can see how clearly their relationship changed since Fuuto is a lil more soft (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ 

Ema: I, uhm ... -> Square, Circle, Circle  

At one point, you will see Fuuto sleeping and you only can move the analog stick ! You can look at the CG and if you move it to his face, you can hear him sleeptalk ! Such a Cutie ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

He will talk in his sleep and wake up. Answer that you can't sleep when he askes you about it ! Now enjoy the lil updated CG with Ema on his side ~

You will soon see that his sleepover events will start to repeat so if you missed some dates and want to see all of his date dialogues, try to switch between Dates and Sleepover !  ➽───────────────❥

Now we can finally start with the story and the schedules ! Now we will start the prologue, it might be a lil long but thanks for the skip bottom, you only need to see it once when you play the other routes !

When Tsubaki and Kaname ask you to call them big bro, choose Azusa ! This will only raise his affection and is the savest option, since you can only date him in Brilliant Blue !

After that, Juli will ask you how you feel about your new family situation ! Tell him that you are not sure and quiet worried :0 This will not raise the family bar !

You are finally able to create your own schedule ! Since Fuuto is still not present, you could do it like that: Mon: Juli -> Watch TV with family Tue: Juli -> Chat with family Wed to Fri: Ema -> Work, work, work, work, lemme see you work, work, work Sat: Ema -> Gaming Sun: Ema -> Go Shopping and buy a magazine and the Movie 8 !

You can reuse the schedule until you meet Fuuto aka you will have this schedule for two or three weeks max ! You will suddenly wake up in the middle of the night because you are thirsty, i sadly didn't catch the date when it happened. There you will meet our lil brat, sleeping on the sofa. After having a lil banter with him, you go back to your room but suddenly you remember why you went there at the first place ! Go back and get your water, this will also be the first time that you raise his affection !

After that, don't forget to reschedule !

Mon: Fuuto -> Study with him Tue: Fuuto -> Study with him Wed: Fuuto -> Study with him Thu: Fuuto -> Watch Movie 8 with him Fri: Watch Movie 8 with him Sat: Ema -> Gaming/Work Sun: Fuuto -> Go on a date with him !

Don't be surprised tho ! He will not go on a date with you the first two or three sundays but you can always bring him a gift !

Soon after meeting Fuuto, the family trip will start ! On the first day, go to the cottage ! There you will meet him with Iori and Ukyo ! ~ There he will be a big meanie again but don't worry, your older brothers have your back ! On the second day you will see a shooting place with Juli, go have a look ! Yo Yo Check it out check it out   You will see Fuuto acting for a drama ! After that you go back to the cottage where Fuuto will send you a message ! Give him a call ! ovo9 But don't be surprised, he will be faster then you haha 

With that, the vacation is over and with that your first event with him ! The next event triggerd for me on the 1st Oct after only watching the movie 8 for weeks haha   You and Fuuto are watching a movie and you will find out that his dream is it to become an actor !   Ask him if his favorite actore is in the movie :0 Don't worry, the affection symbol will come a few seconds later after choosing your answer ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡  

I actually got the 5 hearts after his second event, so the sleepover will start from now on ! Please don't forget to change your dates to sleepovers since you will need all CG for his good ending ! When you get 5 hearts, you can also work a little bit more but since you only need to get 2 big presents in his route, you could also just use the schedule until the end ovo9

After some time Maho-chan will ask you one day if you are interested in someone after talking to you about the school's cultural festival. Say that you are interested in someone, this will trigger the Fuuto Event on the d-day of the cultural festival !  Sadly i forgot to write down the dates of this scene and the actual cultural festival, upsy 𓏗-𓏗

The next event will be the school's cultural festival ! (Please act shooked) Don't be surprised when you see Louis and not Fuuto. You will have your moment with him tho, thanks to your dear brother Louis ദ്ദി( Ò ,<)~✩‧  

The wedding of Miwa and Rintaro will be held on the 07th Nov, you can see that your relationship is going well with Fuuto since you imagine him as your future groom hehe  You will also meet Natsume ! To not somehow raise his or Subaru's affection, choose do not bother/ask about their situationship

But after that, you find out the truth about your real father but don't worry, Fuuto will come and comfort you ! But don't think his soft side will be there permantly now, it would be boring if he stops teasing you :P This event will trigger on the 13th Nov !

The next event triggers on the 15th Nov ! Very soon after almost not getting any events in autuum with Fuuto sobs sobs. Thanks to Louis, our cupid in this route, you got a nice but small styling ! Fuuto will use this as a new reason to tease you and ask you to cook for him. Just Cook for him, this will lead to another tease festival from him. Such a lil brat !  (¬､¬)

On the 29th Nov you will meet Hikaru ! To not raise any affection and to stay save, don't bother them, but don't worry. You will meet Hikaru without any problems because Kaname saw you !  

On the 24th Dez Fuuto invited you to his Christmas concert ! You put on a nice outfit but you are to late to do your hairstyle oh no :( ! BUT THERE HE IS, LOUIS OUR CUPID ! Just let him do your Hair, it will later trigger affection by Fuuto in his backstage scene ~  

25th Dez is Christmas Day ! Everyone will celebrate it but Fuuto, Hikaru and Natsume are missing. Choose the Game Tournament option. Since we didn't raise the family bar high enough, there won't be any Fuuto even after choosing the game tournament sobs ૮₍ ꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ ₎ა. The three missing brothers will only join when the family bar is high enough

1st of January is New Years ! You go together as a family but sadly there will be also no Fuuto since he only came back from work ! The dialogue is still sweet on his own way (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ 

Fuuto comes back home on the 09th Jan but he looks in pain. Ask him what is wrong since you are a little worried. He looks a lil perplexed but don't worry, you both go to his room, where he talks about his work. To your surprise he started to act in his first movie but it didn't went well. After a pep talk from you, he is motivated to try harder ! 

On the 10th of february, Maho-chan is again asking you about your love interst and if you want to give them some chocolat. Say yes to giving chocolat and then Answer that your chosen one will be Fuuto ദ്ദി( Ò ,<)~✩‧ 

Ah yes, 14th February is Valentine's day and you give Fuuto his chocolate. He is very happy about even if he starts to tease you at the beginning ! He is just like the meme: Kinda ugly, wait who said i would not wear it ?  

On the 7th of march, you will get a text late at night from Fuuto asking you for a midnight date hehe and you will totally say yes to him when he ask you for a walk outside !!  

And please don't run in the dark like the MC !! :< 

On the 14th of March, Fuuto will give you a White Day Present in return for the Valentines Chocolate !  

Don't be surprised, the 4th of april is a small family scene, that will trigger even if you have a low family bar and will not raise any affection with anyone !  

The 11th of April is a big day not only for the MC who is now a senior in high school but also for Fuuto who just started high school on the same school as you ! It is a surprise for everyone since he is a well known idol ! 

One day later, you are waiting for Fuuto since both of you are going to take the train back home. You two change your plan a little bit and after a small discussion, you both see a café ! Fuuto will ask you if you want something, answer him that you want something sweet ! (Like him until he teases us again orz)  

The 30th of april triggers a scene with Maho-chan, where she tells you about Fuuto's movie that is getting a lot of attention ! Maho-chan also noticed your feelings about his growing fanbase and your status as his "sister" but don't worry ! You will meet him in the library, where both of you will also talk about his movie and future as an actor. It will also make the MC realise that Fuuto has grown since you met him and also you will finally get your happy ending with our lovely idol brat !  

Congrats, you finally did it ! ദ്ദി( Ò ,<)~✩‧₊  

Don't forget to check his After Story in memories too ! It will unlock the last CG :>  

And to be honest, i'm not quiet sure if it's possible to get a bad ending with Fuuto and i will not test it HAHAHA ! ➽───────────────❥

I hope i could be a help with this walkthrough ! ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜ If you have any questions, just ask me ! I will try to help ~And also please don't mind my bad english hehe ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ Until the next post, BYE BYE ~

[bugbearstew]

2022

This year has been an absolute wild ride. I've done so many things and so many things have happened that I wanted to write up something to kind of put it all into perspective for myself mostly.

So 2022 started a panicked scramble to move across the country from Oklahoma to Pittsburgh, PA to live with my partner. This was a big step for me because I had lived in the same house my ENTIRE life! So this was the first time I was moving. It was a pain in the ass, incredibly stressful, but so worth it. I love pittsburgh and I love being here with Meg.

I got a second tattoo! An homage to Van Gogh's sunflowers. I plan on slowly working up to a full sleeve.

We visited a lot of really amazing places like Phipps, the carnegie art museum, the aviary, the frick museum, a bunch of art shows, but my favorite was seeing Hadestown in person in an absolutely astoundingly gorgeous theatre.

This year I started to dig into a lot of different kinds of art. I finished a (small) traditional painting that I still really love. I made some traditional art for Art Fight that I'm really happy with and some lovely gift art for friends. I've also dug a bit back into my own game designing and art for fun. My taste and skill for cooking has EXPLODED since I moved here and I have 4 cook books on my desk alone right now! We also have 4 plants that we take care of and I'm very happy with how they're doing. (yes cooking and plants count as art!!!)

I started reading a LOT more this year! I read... -Small Gods by Terry Pratchett -The Crossroads at Midnight by Abby Howard -The Trees by Percival Everett -Greener Pastures by Michael Wehunt -Shiver by Junji Ito God there might be more but I didn't keep a list... I'll keep a list next year

Theres SO many theatres in Pittsburgh! Meg and I saw a couple movies this year. Nope was amazing! Belle was a gorgeous anime movie. But it was Everything Everywhere All at Once that really blew us away. I don't know what I could say that would do that movie justice. I just remember walking home from the movie and getting choked up just discussing it.

Played a ton of games this year. I'm really happy about it because I played a bunch of weird and older games that really expanded how I feel about video games. Between Morrowind, Dwarf Fortress, Caves of Qud, System Shock 2, and Prey 2019 I feel like I've grow a lot in the games I consume and how I look at them.

I didn't get around to playing as many tabletop games this year as I would have liked but my game of Root TTRPG has been going strong! A year now and its so much fun each time! Plus, a weekly game of Gloomhaven has been great. Gloomhaven is a very fun time but also can be draining with how much thinking I have to do.

While moving was the biggest thing for me this year, Art was up there. I left my position working on Sun Haven in September. There were a good handful of reasons that I don't really need to get into but the main thing was I just wasn't happy. After leaving I've felt rejuvenated and excited about art. Working on a bunch of different things and excited to work on more. I have so much planned for 2023 and I can't wait to hit the ground running with projects I'm working on, starting, or planning.

In 2017 my twin sister passed away. That started a big chain reaction that, somehow, led me to here. It was a terrible thing that happened and I still feel the echoes of the pain today. But because of that I have grown into a much stronger person. When I sat in the audience of Hadestown, knowing how much my sister loved musicals, knowing how much she would have loved this one specifically, I fidgeted with my necklace. It's a small silver container of some of her ashes. I turned 30 this year. All of these things coming together, getting out of oklahoma, being in the big city, seeing hadestown, all of the tiny, daily things combined feel like I have closed a chapter in my life. 2022 wasn't an easy year, it had it's ups and downs as any year would. But it was the best year I've had in the past 5. I am so excited to see where I go from here. I don't know what 2023 will bring but I'm expecting big things for all of us.

[burnmywholelifedown]

Hi it’s your Santa Swiftie here!!! I’m so excited to get to make you something for the holiday season, but first, I need some info/get to know you better!

Do you have any hobbies? What do you like to do on your free time?

Do you have a favorite word?

What's your top 5 Taylor Swift albums?

Favorite Taylor swift mv? Favorite photoshoot?

Pick 13 Taylor songs you like!

What kind of music you like besides Taylor?

If you had to pick 5 songs to describe yourself which ones would you choose?

Who were your most listened artists on Spotify?

I know this is a lot lol, so take your time to answer it all! I hope you have a great week and a lovely December! 🎄🧑🏻‍🎄🎁❄️🎅🏻

hey there!! I'm so excited 😊 Thank you so much for your patience while I was getting over my illness! My blog runs on a queue but I don't use a queue tag so I'm sure that didn't help your concern that messages weren't going through. I'm finally feeling better and able to answer all your questions. One thing you should know about me is that I don't pick favorites so you're going to get some lists lol.

Do you have any hobbies? What do you like to do on your free time?

I do have hobbies! Like many Taylor fans I love to write songs. It's such a fun creative outlet. I also am an avid reader. I read a lot of classics back in the day (and almost became an English major) but after college I've been reading more romance and fantasy books. I haven't been brave enough to venture into Brandon Sanderson territory but we'll get there. I needed to give my brain a bit of a break after all the reading for school.

Do you have a favorite word?

Oh my gosh thank you for this! A word I have loved since middle school is ephemeral. I think it just sounds so soft almost like it's fading away. And it's about such an angsty concept. For my Latin class we wrote a tradgedy called Ephemora. It was the most fun thing ever.

What's your top 5 Taylor Swift albums?

Mkay this question is so unbelievably rude. Right after Midnights came out?? How the heck am I supposed to rank albums at a time like this??? For you I shall do my best:

In no particular order - folkmore, midnights, Speak Now, Red TV, reputation

But debut is a close 6

Favorite Taylor swift mv?

OOTW, IKYWT, Cardigan, Blank Space, Love Story, ATW short film of course

Favorite photoshoot?

If we're going to talk album photoshoots I'm obsessed with the midnights, RED TV, rep and Lover ones.

Here are a few more I really enjoyed:

EW 2019

Glamour UK 2015

Fashion Magazine 2015

Glamour UK 2013

People Magazine 2010

USA Today Newspaper 2010

Pick 13 Taylor songs you like!

Cold As You

Illicit affairs

Cardigan

Ivy

Mastermind

YOYOK

TTDS

DBATC

Dress

Wonderland

The Moment I Knew

Enchanted

Breathe

What kind of music you like besides Taylor?

I tend to listen to singer-songwriters that write acoustic-esque pop. Oh and I also listen to some musicals. I was mostly a theatre kid because I loved classical theatre like Shakespeare but I fell in love with some musicals along the way as well.

If you had to pick 5 songs to describe yourself which ones would you choose?

Damn this is a tough one. I'm really bad at limitations so you're getting more than 5:

Why am I like this? - Orla Gartland

Colorado - Reneé Rapp

Pity Party - Cate

The List - Maisie Peters

Personal Best - Maisie Peters

Girls - girl in red

Kintsugi - Gabrielle Aplin

mirrorball - Taylor Swift

homecoming queen? Kelsea Ballerini

Walk In The Park - Kelsea Ballerini

Being Alive - Company OBC

Growing Sideways - Noah Kahan

Hold The Girl - Rina Sawayama

Who were your most listened artists on Spotify?

I know we're supposed to get videos for the people that we listened to the most but I don't know how to access those so in no particular order here are some artists I listened to this year: Taylor Swift, Noah Kahan, Maisie Peters, Reneé Rapp, Gabrielle Aplin, Kelsea Ballerini, Conan Gray, Demi Lovato (love their new album!!), Halsey, Rosie Darling, Gracie Abrams, Cate, Abby Holiday, Lizzy McAlpine, Griff, P!nk, James Bay

I hope all this info helps 😊

[sometimes-surveys]

33.

What colour is the photo frame closest to you? - Silver.

Are your pets asleep right now, if you have any? - Yeah, she's always asleep, haha.

Would you have any idea what your parents are doing right now? - I don't live with them but if I could guess....my mom is probably in the guest room/office or in their bedroom watching Netflix, possibly dozing off because she wakes up so early. My dad's probably downstairs watching the news. Also, I just realized it's Tuesday -  so they could be browsing Ross. On Tuesdays, they give seniors a discount and my mom likes to go and my dad goes, too.

How many windows (roughly) does your house have? - At least twenty. We have a sunroom and it's wall to wall windows other than the wall that connects to the house.

Do you have a good relationship with your cousins? - The only cousins I really care about are the ones that live here and come on holidays. I have a lot of cousins that I barely know. But yes, I had a good relationship with my cousin that died earlier this month because he and my brother were really tight and hung out regularly, and my brother is my best friend (other than my husband) so I saw him a lot, too. ):

What was the last kids movie you saw? - I'm pretty sure it was Cars.

Do you know anyone who was born in Africa? - No.

Have you ever been to an internet cafe? - No.

Are there any upcoming events for you to look forward to? - Yes, this weekend will be a little busy for me. My mother-in-law is having a Halloween party on Friday and my husband and I will celebrate our wedding anniversary on Saturday (even though it's not until Monday the 31st). Sunday we'll probably go to the pumpkin patch, if the weather is nice, and have a picnic at our favorite place.

Has the year gone quickly for you so far? - OMG yes. Especially this time that I'm taking off. Like I'm going to have to start getting interviews and all that soon. I said I wanted to start working in November, but September and October flew by so fast and I don't feel ready. Even though I worked on some goals and got some things done, I feel like I mostly wasted these two months.

How many siblings does your significant other have? - He has one brother, one half-sister, and two step-sisters.

Are you one of those people who can drink vodka straight? - Absolutely not. I mean, I can take shots, but that's just throwing them down your throat. And I still need a chaser of some sort.

Have you ever done three or more shots in a row? - I don't think so.

Do you share a middle name with any of your friends? - No.

What was the last movie you saw in theatres? - Wow, it's been a long time since I've been to a movie theater. I think it was the live action Aladdin back in 2019.

Are you interested in international politics? - Not really.

How many pairs of jeans do you own? - Just one pair that I bought last week for a costume I'm doing. I'm going to be Casey Becker from Scream, and my husband's going to be Ghostface.

When was the last time you showered? - Earlier today after I was done cleaning the house.

Do you know the name of the pharmacist at your local drug store? - No.

What was the first cellphone you had and how old were you when you got it? - I was twenty when I got my first cellphone. I really had no interest in having one as a teenager, not that it mattered because my parents were the "if you can pay for it, you can have it" kind of parents. Which isn't a bad thing. I could have had one, but I just chose not to spend my money on one. Everyone I was around had phones so if I needed to make a call, I'd use theirs. Anyways, it was this little pay-as-you-go phone. I'm not sure of the brand. Just a tiny rectangle with numbers and the smallest screen, haha.

Do you use public transport in your town or city? - I'll use Lyft if I need to get somewhere and my husband can't take me. Or I'll call one of my parents. My dad doesn't mind because he's retired and it gives him something to do. But no, the bus system here kind of sucks from what I hear, so I've never tried it.

Have your parents ever worked in a factory? - I don't think so.

Do you have several best friends? - Just my brother and my husband.

How many lights are in the room you’re in? - Just one.

Is there a Hard Rock Cafe in your town or city? - No, but there is one about 2 hours from here.

Do you eat fast food more than once a week? - No.

What flavour is your toothpaste? - Peppermint.

Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? - Like, being in the shower together? Yes. Or just sharing a shower with someone I live with? Also yes.

When was the last time you had a bubble bath? - It's been a while. I don't trust the bathtub anymore, haha. The floor in the bathroom leans a little. We plan to get everything looked at once my husband's family get their shit together and finally give us a number so we can buy the house and start renovating. But until then, we're not putting another cent into the house unless we own it.

Are you sleepy right now? - Not really.

How big is your backyard? - It's pretty big. We could fit another house in the backyard and still have some room.

Do you know anyone with Tourette’s Syndrome? - I'm pretty sure my husband has undiagnosed Tourette's. I'm not sure why his parents never took him to see anyone about some of the actions he does that seem to be out of his control. He’s a grown man and if he wants to pursue doctors to see if he has it, I’m 100% behind him. But he seems to be at peace with the possible tics and so am I.

What time does your alarm wake you up in the morning? - I don't use an alarm to wake up. It's so wonderful. I go to bed when I'm tired and wake up when I'm rested. It's never any later than 9am, usually.

What was the last zoo you visited? - Bee City.

Do you like crime films and tv shows? -  I don't really watch those police procedural shows, if that's what this means. But I do like tv shows and movies that have to do with the mafia.

When you shop, do you take a basket or a cart (trolley)? - A cart if I'm grocery shopping, a basket if I'm going in for a couple things.

Have you ever tasted milk straight from the cow? - No.

What’s your favourite sleeping position? - On my stomach.

What colour is the bra you’re wearing? - I'm not wearing one.

Have you ever seen A Clockwork Orange? - [TRIGGER WARNING: "R" WORD] Bits and pieces of it. The only thing I can remember about that movie is my best friend at the time, arguing with another friend of ours who had it on at their apartment, and she was telling him to turn it off because apparently there's a rape scene? And she knows I'm sensitive to that, and the guy just kept saying "blah I don't want to turn it off, no I like this part" and I was just like, "I'll leave, I'll go out for a smoke" and she was like "No, he's being difficult for no reason, turn it off. For my friend's sake, I'm asking you to turn it the fuck off." And it was just so crazy because the two of them were good friends but she was willing to stand up to him, for me, because I was her best friend. That was so many years ago, but I still remember it so clearly.

Are you bitter about anything? - Nothing I can think of right now.

Do you like to make games out of chores to make them more enjoyable? - Nah. I carry my tablet around to watch things on when I'm doing stuff around the house. Like, I'll only watch a certain show (right now it's Friends) when I'm cleaning or working out. It motivates me to do the dishes or walk on the treadmill since I like the show and can only watch it when I'm doing chores or exercising. It makes it go by fast, too. I deep cleaned the bathroom today and by the time three episodes were over, I was done.

How many letters are in your best friend’s surname? - Eight.

Is there anything in your possession that probably shouldn’t be? - I don't think so.

What is your favourite flavour of yoghurt? - Ew, I hate yogurt. I can't stand the smell. It reminds me of baby spit up.

What was the first online account you remember having? - AOL, back when it was popular and more than just mail.

Do you listen to music to fall asleep? - No, I watch old 90s cartoons to fall asleep, haha.

Where did you go last time you left your town or city? - Just to Florence, which is two hours away. We went to Buc-ee's and then to Quincy's. Just a little day trip.

Do you use emojis? - Sometimes.

Have you ever wanted to be a lawyer? - No.

What percentage of battery does your phone currently have? - 99% because I just took it off the charger a little while ago.

What was the last type of soda you drank? - Vanilla Coke Zero Sugar.

How far away from your house is your favourite place to shop for clothes? - About seven minutes driving.

Do you have supplies handy right now to draw something if I told you to? - No, but I could get to them pretty quickly.

Have you ever been married? - I'm married now, yes.

What does your deodorant smell like? - It's the Dove advanced care pear kind. It smells fruity with a hint of floral, but not too strong. I don't like floral scents, I like sweet or fresh scents. My usual favorite is the apple and white tea but it was all out last time I had to buy some.

Is your bedroom more messy or clean at the moment? - It's clean. It's always clean.

Do you use Twitter? - Yeah, but I'll just like posts or retweet them. I don't post any content. It's really just a way for me to keep up with bands, artists, and brands I like.

Are you any good at baking cakes and cookies from scratch? - Yes.

Is there a floor lamp in your bedroom? - No, just the light from the ceiling fan.

What does most of your weekly or fortnightly income go towards? - Well, when I was working, I pretty much did 50/50. I'd leave 50% of my income in my checking account for bills, groceries, and fun. The other 50% went into my saving account. If I didn't have the sense to do that, then I wouldn't be able to take the break off of work that I'm taking now.

Have you ever been to another continent? - No.

Do you have any hidden piercings? (this includes bellybuttons) - Yes, my nipples are pierced.

What month is your birthday? - April.

What can you hear right now? - My husband playing Fortnite right now and the dog snoring.

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn��t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

[adamsvanrhijn]

not to be very annoying, but do you happen to know any good books/resources about lgbt slang/identities in victorian/edwardian/etc england? (i mean, things such as lesbians calling each other "toms" and the like). don't worry if you don't know any, but i just figured i'd ask since this was kinda in your Area Of Interest so you might know some off the top of your head.

the not annoying at all but this is a more complex question than at first glance hahaha

TL;DR: there are many types of queer language / we have way more info about men, who have their own lexicon / this era is widely seen as the era in which the concept of identity is actually coming into play / books list at the end, scroll down til you reach bolded text if you don’t want my commentary.

so when you’re looking at mid 19th - interwar lgbt communities, whether in europe or the uk or the usa it doesn’t really matter bc this is quite universal, you’ve got at least three registers, for lack of an easier word:

how self-identified homosexual, inverted, queer, abnormal etc men (henceforth gay men) speak with each other

how self-identified “” women (henceforth lesbian women) speak with each other

interactions between these groups

these naturally intersect with other socioeconomic class factors.

back to england specifically:

despite legal considerations gay men have the most agency and ability to move around and therefore are more likely to interact with each other and form communities. so now you have additional registers:

upper middle / upper class

middle / lower middle / working class (more registers here but nobody asked me and i promise i will give you recs soon)

again, interactions between them

the latter category has limited applications; most of them have to do with prostitution or casual sex and tend to be about categorizing people in terms of what sex acts they participate in. (this is universally true of most forms of gay slang and/or their origins for obvious reasons) think locker room talk. OR, we’re looking at cross class relationships and how other people view members of cross class relationships. not to generalize bc there are other things than this but what is best documented here is the upper class pov of these interactions

for the first category there is much less slang & unique community language, when you look at letters and works of literature etc etc people are picking and choosing from both medical/psychiatric terminology, which is developing rapidly from the 1860s on, and like, classical works; you get a lot of alluding to things. artistic communities (bloomsbury group, natalie clifford barney’s harem in paris and what have you) meanwhile are sort of all over the map. but bc this isn’t Polite Society talk, most of the sources for this kind of language tend to be limited in scope. which is true for all subculture language really but like in this case, authors of the day who are writing what they know are we think giving a pretty accurate picture of what their actual communities were like... but it’s put through a filter for publication.

by the 20th century urban working class gay men in certain circles are using polari, a subcultural lexicon which came from mid/late 19th century theatre and music hall slang, which came from fairground cant, seafaring , labor slang, Yiddish, cockney, theatre slang, fishmarkets, French, Italian, underground crime rings literally i could go on and there’s lots of debate about this. it’s turn of the century when it comes to be used very widely within the gay community, and while its origins are in london it made it to other uk urban centres fairly quickly. this lasted well into the latter half of the 20th century and is the base for a lot of community slang today, which leads me to

lesbian women, who also used polari, albeit to a lesser extent. these were primarily lesbians who were also in the 3rd camp above - ones who are involved in the community and interacting w/ gay men regularly. (”straight women who work in theatre” is another category of woman polari speakers haha but performance slang went thru many changes and eventually things got p separate so you had fairground & theatre cant and gay subculture slang having similar roots but very distinct in usage)

for lesbian communities the same thing as w gay men applies for the upper classes just to a lesser degree due to the relative lack of a community experienced by women

but a very important point here is that, ESPECIALLY during the victorian period, less so moving into the 20th century, intimate relationships between women are viewed very, very differently than those between men - male relationships have hard and fast boundaries of what is and isnt acceptable, those of women do not. 

the development of identity w/ sexuality for women i think in many ways had a lot more to do with women who expressed their gender differently than women who had intimate exclusive relationships w/ other women 

anyway the point is there unfortunately is no like comprehensive text for All Queer Language at this point in time, nor for the development of sexual identity, and the nature of this field (linguistics + history + sociology about queer stuff) means that a lot of the good work is in academic articles which i do NOT know off the top of my head. :-( but here’s some stuff !!

LIST OF THE ACTUAL BOOKS SORRY ABOUT ALL THAT

ok so these are all nonfiction, mostly academic nonfiction, but i want to stress that contemporary literature is a REALLY good way to get a (often rose tinted but not always) look into subculture and there are many novels that play with and/or poke at the ongoing development of sexual identity, especially in edwardia, especially especially in the 1920s, so if youve got endless time to read on your hands it is absolutely worth poking around there.

i have a list in the works of 1920s literature that has lgbt stuff in it and i realise thats a bit late for you but even so!!

also: compilations of letters, memoirs, etc are like super super invaluable 

anyway ive bolded the most important ones:

Kosofsky Sedgwick, Eve. Epistemology of the Closet. 1990. University of California Press. [required lgbt theory reading, literally the foundation for soooo much]

Marcus, Sharon. Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England. 2007. Princeton University Press.

Robb, Graham. Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteenth Century. 2003. [this is like, functionally prerequisite reading for any gay male stuff for the 19th century & robb is an excellent popular historian who also has an actual academic background]

Rupp, Leila J. Sapphistries: A Global History of Love between Women. 2008. NYU Press.

Russett, Cynthia. Sexual Science: The Victorian Construction of Womanhood. 1989. Harvard University Press. [touches on things but is not About sexuality/identity]

these are both already on my downton abbey research list but they both discuss language thruout and identity very thoroughly:

Brady, Sean. Masculinity and Male Homosexuality in Britain, 1861-1913. 2005. Palgrave Macmillan.

David, Hugh. On Queer Street: A Social History of British Homosexuality 1895-1995. 1997. HarperCollins.

for polari, see basically everything paul baker’s done. the 2019 might be the most accessible but i havent read it yet:

Baker, Paul. Fantabulosa: A dictionary of Polari & gay slang. 2002. London: Continuum.

Baker, Paul. Polari: The Lost Language of Gay Men (Routledge Studies in Linguistics). 2002. London: Routledge.

Baker, Paul. Fantabulosa! The Story of Polari, Britain’s Secret Gay Language. 2019. London: Reaktion.

while it predates the era youre asking about, this book is good reading that leads up to the changes of the victorian era in sexual morality & how that affects identity and language:

Donoghue, Emma. Passions Between Women: British Lesbian Culture 1668–1801. 1995. HarperCollins.

also i hate to do this but like. foucault lol. obviously not focused on britain but very much focused on the development of identity and sexuality. 

ive been working on this for like three straight hours im gonna go eat lunch now

[420themanbehindtheslaughter69]

Found Diary...

This is 100% based on a TikTok I legit just saw by yoongi.xd so full credit to them for the idea :)

R/F/N = Random Female Name R/M/N = Random Male Name

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst(?), lemon(not really)

Au: Non-Idol au, High School au, Gender neutral! Reader, it's 2019, Yoongi is 17

Song: Bubblegum Bitch by Marina and the Diamonds

Word Count

Warnings: swearing,

Pov: alternating

POV - Y/n's First Person

High school... I hate it. I've always hated it. I feared going into high school since I was little. The only reason why I had any bit of motivation is that I got to see my best friend Yoongi.

Min Yoongi. The introvert who can do literally anything. It's crazy. I don't know how we ended up becoming friends, but we did. He's always been a tough cookie and had a hard exterior. Though it didn't take long for me to break into it.

It apparently took less amount of time for this bitch named R/f/n. They met about two months ago, and they're already sucking faces.

Which is what's happening right now.

"Can you guys like not to do that while I'm trying to eat?" I look at Yoongi and R/f/n and they pull away.

"No." R/f/n scoffs trying to pull Yoongi back in for a... I can't even call it a kiss. "No, R/f/n, it's okay. We can continue later, Okay?" R/f/n pouts and nods her head, making me fake a gag.

"Okay, Yoongi-Baby. I should probably get going then. I love you." She stands up giving him another kiss. "I love you too, R/f/n." They wave to each other and she exits the cafeteria.

"Fucking finally. I thought that you'd be stuck there forever." My comment makes Yoongi chuckle. "Yeah, she's really touchy. It's okay though. I like her a lot." He looks down with a shy smile on his face.

"Yeah, I know you like her a lot. And I'm so happy that you've finally found someone that makes you happy." He looks up at me and I smile at him. "What do you mean? You make me happy? You're my friend." The legendary words that make any fool break.

Being friends with him is great and all but I think I would prefer to be more. "You know what I mean, Yoongi. We're friends, not lovers. She makes you happy in a romantic way." I stick my spoon in the pudding of my school lunch and stir it around before deciding that there is no way in Hell am I going to eat it.

"Thank god you're not about to eat that. I probably would've thrown up if you did." Yoongi says chuckling before drinking the chocolate milk in a cardboard box. "It's chunky." He continues after setting the milk down.

I look at the pudding and pull a face of disgust. "Yeah, it's very chunky." I throw the spoon on the tray and look over at the clock on the wall. "We have 10 minutes to get to class... Do you wanna start heading there now?" Yoongi nods and we both stand up and throw our shit away.

As we exit the Cafeteria, this stupid fucking bitch, R/m/n, throws a basketball at me. I hate guys. "Yo Yoongi! You gonna play later? Also sorry..." He stops for a moment and looks at me. "You." He then looks back at Yoongi.

"Nah, I promised Y/n that I'd help them with their homework." R/m/n nods and walks away. I completely forgot that I had asked him to help me.

"Thank fucking god it's Friday. I literally don't wanna have to deal with these fuckers for much longer." Yoongi says wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

~ After School~

"Do you really need help? It seems as if you just wanted to hang out?" Yoongi drops the notebook onto his bed and looking at me. Obviously, I lied. I look away in shame, and he chuckles. "If you wanted to hang out, you could've just asked. We're friends after all."

"But it seems as if we've been so distant." He lets out a long sigh and he rubs his eyes.

"Is this about R/f/n?" Yoongi raises his voice a little bit, making me jump.

"No, it isn't about R/f/n. I mean it kind of is bu-" Yoongi lets out a long irritated sigh.

"Why do you hate her so much? What the fuck did she do to you?" He yells at me.

"I never said I hated her!" Even though I do despise her, I would never admit that, especially to Yoongi. "What the fuck is your problem? Why are you getting so mad at me?" Suddenly, I'm angry. All I wanted was to hang out with Yoongi outside of school after what seems like the first time in months, and he's getting angry with me for no reason? Oh hell no.

"Recently all you've been doing is complaining about the fact that we're never with each other, but you're forgetting that we literally go to the same school and that we have most of the same classes! It's so fucking annoying!" I'm furious now. I stand up and start packing up my stuff with tears in my eyes.

I'm not crying because I'm sad, I'm crying because I'm angry. I run out of his room and get my shoes on at his door. "Y/n... I didn't mean to-" He calmly states as he stands at the top of the stairs.

"No. Fuck you Min Yoongi." I finally walk out of his house wanting nothing more than to lay in my bed. I want nothing more than to be at home, in my own room, with my headphones in, curled up under my blankets. I stomp down the street speedily, I turn around and see Yoongi standing outside his house.

"Yeah... fuck you Min Yoongi," I mutter looking forward again.

~

Lunchtime... It used to be my favourite subject in school because that's when I got to see Yoongi. It's been about a week since our fight. It was such a silly fight as well. I also haven't felt like eating out in public, so I haven't been buying any lunch.

Yoongi seems happy. He's been with the basketball players, their girlfriends, and R/f/n. He's acting as if nothing happened, as if he didn't freak out at me. I only have two other friends other than him, and one of them, Tara, doesn't have the same lunch as me.

"Hello~ Earth to Y/n!" Tommy says, waving his hand in front of my face. Tommy and Tara are twins, and they both happen to my two other friends. Convenient, I know. "You've been staring at Yoongi for the past ten minutes." Tommy continues before taking a big bite of his sandwich.

A sandwich that includes turkey, bologna, provolone cheese, mayo, and tofurkey. For some reason, he likes the smokey flavour of the fake meat mixed with the real meat. "Yeah, I'm aware I've been staring at him." I roll my eyes, playfully making Tommy laugh.

Tommy. Twin brother of Tara. Both are seventeen and from America. He has messy brown hair and greenish-brown eyes that look green in the right lighting, and in another lighting, looks brown. Cheap warm-tones cafeteria lighting makes his eyes the in-between colour of hazel. He has pale skin with natural red cheeks, along with freckles across his nose. He's not unattractive but he's definitely not on most people's level of beauty.

"How are you after the fight?" He says nonchalantly, peeling the crust off of part of the sandwich he's about to bite into.

"I wouldn't necessarily call it a fight. More of a 'he flipped and I didn't wanna deal with it' situation." I pick at my nails anxiously. I don't wanna talk about this. Tara knows that, but I guess she didn't tell Tommy.

"Yeah... Right." He says squinting his eyes at me to show he doesn't fully believe me. "Anyway, you wanna hang out after school? My biological dad sent a new video game if you wanna try it with me." I look at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle a little.

"Fuck yeah! What time?" He stops and thinks for a moment.

"Four-Thirty? I have theatre club after school."

I also have stuff after school to do. Not like a club, I mean I guess you can call it that, but I just go and chill out in the Library, reading a book with a group of other students. It's not a club where you have to sign up to be in, but more of a free-range. It's fun and relaxing, especially since I don't have to talk to anyone there unless the leader really wants us to, which she's an introvert and doesn't want to.

~

Alas, the school day is over. It's two-fifteen, the bell has rung indicating that we can now leave, but I head over to the library. Oh, I'm the first one here. I take a deep breath as I sit in the comfortable cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the Library. This area is very isolated, which is why we sit over here. It's quiet and away from other students who are wanting to come in here and study or something.

Though it's isolated, in the seat I am in, I have the perfect view of the door, which is open from Seven-thirty to two-fifteen, and then after, the Librarian, Mr Kim, who isn't too much older than us, closes the door but it remains unlocked.

It's now two-thirty, most of the kids that usually show up are here reading their books, there are a few new students who just wanted an escape, and-

"Ayo Yoongi pass the ball!" I look over at the door and see a dude, I recognize as R/m/n catching the brownish-red ball from a shorter boy with dark hair, I can obviously notice is Yoongi, especially since R/m/n called his name. I whine slightly as I slump into my chair. I hear the girls who are misogynistic for their boyfriend's validation giggle as they watch the guys.

Please God... don't let them see me.

Luckily they didn't, and I continue reading until I finish the book. Then I packed up my stuff and decided that it was better off that I leave early.

POV- Yoongi's First Person

"Hey, Yoongi~" R/f/b comes strutting over with her friends with a notebook in her hand. That looks like Y/n's notebook... she never let anyone touch it.

"I found Y/n's diary." She smiles mischievously.

"Let's read it!" R/m/n says, and the others agree. "But Yoongi should be the one to read it." R/f/n rolls her eyes before handing it to me.

I don't really wanna have to do this...

"Dear Diary, I will be writing all of my important accomplishments or just important things in general here. So starting with today, we have a new kid. He's really cute, I'm afraid to talk to him though."

"Boring! Skip forward!" One of R/f/n friends say. I nod and skip a few pages. October tenth two-thousand thirteen... that's when Y/n and I met.

"Today is October 10, 2013. Oh, dear Diary, I met a boy. He made my dull heart light up with joy. He's shy and kind of mean, but I think I can become his friend. I'm gonna keep trying."  Oh god... I continue reading every few pages until the most recent...

"Dear Diary... we fell apart. He yelled at me and called me annoying. I had lied to him, saying I needed help with homework, when in reality, I just wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him outside of school, with no interruptions from his basketball friends who always push me around when he's not there, with no interruptions from his snobby girlfriend to told me to go kill myself and to stay away from him. Just him and I. But when he noticed that I didn't actually need help, he flipped. I don't know what I did wrong... maybe it was because I kept it a secret that his friends are so shitty. At least I still have Tommy and Tara. They're the only ones I need. Oh, who am I kidding? I miss him so much. I love him." My heart stops as I continue reading. I look up at the people around me who just stare at me awkwardly and apologetically.

"Did you guys really do that to them?" I take them not answering as a yes. I look down at my watch to see it only just hit four o'clock. I have to go see y/n...

I put their diary in my bag and swing it over my shoulder before running out of the library. Everything seems to have turned in slow motion. My heart is pounding My friends are yelling after me, but all I want is to see y/n. I want to see their beautiful smile again. They like me... They like me. I was so blind to notice, but now I think about it, it was so obvious. I smile while running as I think about all the moments I have had with Y/n.

I finally arrived at Y/n's house, I'm out of breath and my legs sting. I walk up to the front door...

POV- Y/n's First Person

It's currently Four twenty-five, so I should probably start heading out to Tommy and Tara's house. Just as I open the door, I am greeted by someone I really don't wanna see. Yoongi.

"Y/n..." He lets out a long sigh and a small smile. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I don't even know why I freaked out as I did." I just stand there. I don't know what to say to him. I miss him... I miss being with him. I open my mouth to say something, but my mouth is dry and I can't say anything. Yoongi steps closer. My heart pounds out of my chest. His hand makes contact with my hip hand and...

The world around us has stopped. Nothing else is important. Min Yoongi is standing in my doorway kissing me. His single hand on my waist, slides around to my back, pulling me closer. We can't...

I push him away. "Yoongi..." I whisper. I didn't mean for it to come out so quietly, but with how nervous I am I can't help it. I want to kiss him. I've always wanted to... but now that it's actually happening-

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much. I'm so sorry... please I need you back in my life... I never realized your feelings for me until just recently, and because I finally realized, that made me rethink everything. I never truly liked R/f/n... I never felt the way I do when I'm with you. You make me happy." He pants, pulling me toward my living room couch. I comply and sit next to him.

"Yoongi... I really like you. I always have. But you never liked me, why has that suddenly changed?" I want to cry. I feel so overwhelmed by everything. He shrugs before placing his hand on my cheek.

"Can I kiss you again... please?" I don't even care anymore. I nod and he pulls me towards him. His soft upturned lips make contact with mine. I move his silky hands from my cheek to my waist, and I hold onto his face. Yoongi's tongue tries to enter my mouth, but I allow it. I suck on his tongue as his lips are still pressed to mine.

Knock Knock Knock Knock

We pull away quickly. He laughs at the string of spit connecting us before I stand up and go over to the door.

"Hey, Tommy."

"It's five o'clock... is everything okay?" I look at my phone and my eyes widen. Has it really been thirty minutes since Yoongi got here?

"Yeah everything's fine, I'll be over in a minute though, okay? I might need to even wait until my mom gets home so she can drive me over since it's getting dark." Tommy nods and smiles. He waves and walks away, so I quickly shut the door and walk back over to Yoongi. "My room, now," I say softly and we both run up the stairs and into my room.

It's been a while since he's been in my room. I never told her, but my mom knew I liked Yoongi and as much as she trusted him, she felt afraid that he would do something.

Yoongi tackles me onto my bed after locking my door. His hands are on either side of my head. He dips down and starts leaving small kisses up my neck to my mouth, once he reaches my mouth he just barely touches it. "Yoongi... please..." I whine and he chuckles. I tangle my fingers in his hair.

Oh god, his beautiful dark hair. People wouldn't consider his hair curly, but it has some natural texture to it. So silky and soft. So healthy... every damn thing about Yoongi is perfect. His soft lips trail from my mouth to the soft dimple on my cheek, down my neck. He lingers at my neck for a little while, allowing me to feel how perfect even his lips are. So good at kissing, I guess that watching him and R/f/n make out had to lead me to think otherwise... R/f/n.

"Wait... Yoongi." He pulls away with a hum and looks at me. His dark lust-filled eyes have now turned into precious puppy dog eyes. They're glossed over and widened, as his lips are in a pout. "What about R/f/n?" He chuckles, making me embarrassed for asking.

"I'm done with her. Don't think about her, or Tommy, or R/m/n, or Tara, or Mr. Kim, or Ms. Jung. Think about us." I nod and he leans down to kiss me again, but before he can, someone knocks on my door.

"Y/n, I'm home." My mom says on the other side of the door.

"Okay, hi mom!" I call out, Yoongi flops softly onto the space next to me and wraps his arms around me.

~

"Tommy give me my phone!" I yell as Tommy and I run around my living room. Yoongi and Tara laugh at us, and I finally grabbed my phone from him and stuff it in my pants.

"Do you really think that'll stop me?" He says reaching towards me, but stops when Yoongi lets out a cough. "Sorry, Yoongi. Didn't mean that in a creepy way." He awkwardly apologizes and we sit down on the couch. I drape the blanket over Yoongi and I, as Tommy and Tara fight over who gets to hold the popcorn.

"I thought this was gonna be a calm movie night," Yoongi whispers in my ear with a smile. I let out a soft laugh and look over at the two twins.

"At least Tara isn't threatening to shove her fist up his ass again." Just as I say that, Tara then yells she was gonna shove her fist up Tommy's ass.

"I don't want anything else than to be here with you guys," Yoongi whispers again, placing a kiss on my nose. "I love you."

"I love you more."

[ladyonfire28]

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: An Interview With Céline Sciamma

I finally found that old interview that Céline did back in August 2019, that i had read many months ago and that I wanted to share with you all because it’s a pretty great one. So here’s the whole translation of it.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: An Interview With Céline Sciamma

18th century. Marianne (Noémie Merlant) is a young painter who is commissioned to paint a portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), fresh out of the convent, in order to "present" her as well as possible to her future husband. The previously hired painter had not succeeded in completing the requested portrait, as the model did not want to submit to the exercise. In her fourth feature film, Céline Sciamma offers a reflection on the artist's gaze. She does not, however, overlook the romance and passion of the artist's gaze. And her characters embody themselves more than ever, with force. Meeting with the director at the Angoulême Film Festival.

From the very first shots, with these brush strokes, you seem to wonder about your own work. The film is called "Portrait" and, very quickly, a character asks Marianne: "Do you think you will manage to paint her?" Is this also your questioning as a director? The difficulty of a good portrait?

Céline Sciamma: Yes, but I don't know if I would call it a difficulty: I would call it research. The film very quickly, from the beginning, puts the question of the gaze. The first line of the painter's character does not so much evoke the question of her own gaze but evokes more the gaze of others. The very first line of the film is: "Take the time to look at me". The film is extremely playful with its means. It asks the question of what it is to look, in two places at once: the dialogue of love, and then the dialogue of creation, which brings into play the question of the gaze and allows us to renew the reflection around this question.

Marianne, the character played by Noémie Merlant, is almost in the voyeur's posture, she begins by observing in secret. Does this question you as a filmmaker?

Yes it raises the question of cinema.

Do we always have to question that?

I think we have to stay within this dynamic of interrogation. Not as something elusive, but as something that renews itself, that provides new ideas, new pleasures. In all my films, there is only one point of view, one main character, even if it's often not the dominant character. It is indeed difficult to create a hierarchy in this film, to affirm that there would be a first and a second role: there is one who is in all the scenes, in all the shots, and the other one is not, but I find that the film, strangely enough, manages to reopen the question of the hierarchy between them.

I always make films where the characters, female characters, are observant. In this one, the movement lies in the fact that the dynamics of infiltration of the gaze have changed. The pitch of the film could be: she looks at her in secret because she doesn't consent to be looked at, then she consents. The dramatic shift means that, very early on, the characters will look at each other. We're not in a voyeuristic dynamic, but in the illusion of a one-way scrutinizing. Heloise's gaze is oriented. In fact, one of Heloise's first glances is a look to camera, it indicates the fact that she sees everyone; she is looked at, and we, spectators, look at her too.

You talk about main and supporting roles and, indeed, in the title, there is mention of a lady. However, isn't the portrait to be taken in the plural?

Absolutely !

An idea that is illustrated in the two last shots, a shot/ reverse shot between two portraits, one freeing the other in a way. How is this shot made? How do you direct it, what do you say to your actresses?

Indeed, this plan raises a lot of questions. It is the last shot/ reverse shot of the film, and here we're back with a character who is watched without knowing it. The difficulty of the shot - which is also its purpose - is that it is a two and a half minute sequence shot, and of great technical complexity. The idea was to get close to a face, to successfully make the focus in an Italian-style theatre, while asking the actress to give a very big performance. You can't do that fifty times!

How many takes did you do ?

Three takes! Based on a fairly precise partition, a choreography basically, of which we had identified a few tipping points with the music. Adèle made the emotional journey.

What did you say to her ?

I told her in advance that there was a journey, made up of five or six steps, and that it was up to her to interpret them as she wished. That shot was never rehearsed. There was something written, quite literary even, there was this material in the script, but then it was reduced to five words, five steps - a path that she had to interpret.

During the first few seconds, you watch Heloise, but then, I think, very quickly, you end up watching Adèle Haenel, the actress, acting. This distance - which reminds us that this is cinema - leaves room for the spectator, and reminds them that they are also in a theatre seat. That they are watching a film.

Weren't you afraid to cross that line?

No, I think it's always important to ask yourself how you say goodbye to the film, with what very intimate feelings you want people to leave the theatre. I think about that all the time. Making room for people to think about their own stories. For me, creating an active viewer is part of the project. And it's true that sequence shots have that ability, because of the time, the tension and the danger they create. The viewer's gaze is what keeps the shot going, but it's also the shot that keeps the viewer going.

The spectator as subject is very important, especially for this film, which is obsessed with this question: how do you film only subjects? To film people, women, as subjects? We are often filmed as objects, we are educated to that, we take pleasure in it. It's a question of re-educating our gaze and creating new pleasures. And, even as a practitioner, I'm not here to lecture people: I place myself at the center of this issue.

Your films are all about identity, the individual at the center of a particular environment, conflictual or not. Is the individual always the core of the stories?

In any case there is always the desire of a character who is often isolated and who seeks to enter a group. And also a love dynamic. But this time, this dynamic is really at the center.

It wasn’t the case in your other films

No, it wasn't love stories that was experienced, it was love that was felt, and we were more in the story telling. But I believe that there is always, in love or friendship, a dynamic of emancipation. When you're with children or teenage characters, there's necessarily the idea of growth, but also, already, this dynamic. The individual is indeed at the center, but as a point of view. I don't make hyperlink films, there is always only one person watching.

As you've made your films, you've shown childhood, pre-adolescence, adolescence, and now it's about young adults. Do you find yourself a little bit in each of these heroines? Do you somehow feel you grew up with them?

Yes, absolutely. And it was the first time I wanted to write a story with adults, women, and a story that would have been really lived. I also wanted to work with professional actresses.

Including one who also grew up a little bit with you?

Yes, of course! That's what I wanted, and not inventing actresses. We're not in first-time stories anymore. Even if it's maybe the first time they love someone… It's another kind of intellectual dialogue, an additional expression.

How did you address the issue of language? Since the story takes place in the 18th century?

I wanted more literary dialogues, but I also wanted it to remain a fairly straightforward language, without any affinities, without seduction. The way it's set up creates a kind of shift, a movement - and it's pretty sexy... Then the actresses' tone, the rhythm they create, the way they use their voices, hold them in place or, on the contrary, cause them to overflow, and it's a score they played very finely.

I also enjoyed imagining verbal jousting, and above all imagining a dialogue in which there would be no intellectual domination - neither class nor language. On the contrary, there would be a horizontality, an equality in the exchange which, for me, beyond the political aspect, could be exciting because it’s not already written. It’s also because it’s a women's story that it’s not already written.

The sincerity of a project raises a question for Marianne in the film, especially in relation to the social conventions she has to integrate into her painting. As this is your fourth film, and as they are always quite intimate projects, do you also ask yourself this question?

It was less the artist's doing than the fact that she was asked the question. She answers with sincerity, but she is also stung to the core. It was more about the dialogue between them and the idea of collaboration. I'm quite collaborative in my way of working, so the idea of an authority being questioned is not necessarily the subject. It was a way of showing this dialogue between the actress and the director, between the painter and the model. It was a lively debate at the time, and it may still be relevant today: does the portrait rather require enhancement, or a resemblance, is it frozen for eternity? Is it a morbid thing that is enough to preserve from death? The portrait was a debate of the Enlightenment, so for me it was a way of being at the heart of the philosophical ideas that animated the time. But it wasn't necessarily an exploration of conscience on the issue.

Does this work of observing actors and actresses - experienced or not - seem inexhaustible to you?

I hope so! For this film, it was about filming someone with whom I have an ongoing, powerful, important dialogue, and whom I know well. At the same time, there was also that desire to meet someone new.

Did you film them the same way?

Yes.

You almost don't recognize Adèle Haenel at the end...

That was really part of the desire of the film: to present a new Adele, to look at her differently, with everything I knew about her, everything we know about her, but also everything that remains to be discovered. It's the only time when there's a form of romanticism: the one that consists in filming faces. It's still very mystical.

What did you want to do with this ghost figure, who appears through Héloïse dressed as a bride?

There are two timelines in the film: this chronicle of a love that is born in the present, and which we look at patiently, and the timeline of memory, the memory of this love. And the contagion of these two timelines is through this ghost. Marianne is - even though we are in the present tense - already haunted by the last image she will see of Heloise.

The film is a flashback, but aren't all love stories already haunted by their end?  Isn't that what makes us live and fear them at the same time?

Is the next portrait already in you? Have you already started working on it?

No, I haven't. I have a project for a children's film, an animated film, so it's necessarily a long-term project. But otherwise, I don't know yet: as long as the films are not released in the world, I have a hard time seeing what happens next.

I'm waiting to see the dialogue that the film will have with the world, the effect it will have. Then there is that moment when you allow yourself to dream, and that daydreaming is always a bit long with me. You have to collect ideas, images that sometimes have nothing to do with each other. At a given moment, there is a synthesis that takes place, and that makes you want to go there.

[new-sandrafilter]

Timothée Chalamet and Eileen Atkins Interview - British Vogue May 2020

“Maybe your knuckles weren’t bleeding, but there was ice,” Timothée Chalamet tells Dame Eileen Atkins. He is recounting, with no small amount of awe, how he first came to hear of the legendary 85-year-old actor with whom he is about to appear at The Old Vic. It transpires that Oscar Isaac, Chalamet’s co-star in the upcoming blockbuster Dune, was at the receiving end of Atkins’ fist in Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood (all in the name of acting, of course). Chalamet was duly impressed.

“I gave him the worst time of his life,” says Atkins, bristling at the memory, before merrily launching into several candid, very dame-like stories from her time on set – “That was a nightmare movie. A nightmare.”

It is a Saturday afternoon in late February, and the two actors – one a titan of British theatre with an eight-decade career; the other, Hollywood’s most in-demand young leading man, with an insatiable Instagram following – have just finished being photographed together for Vogue. Chalamet, 24, in louche, low-slung denim and a white T-shirt, has folded his Bambi limbs into a chair next to Atkins, whose hawkish frame, in a navy jumper and jeans, belies her 85 years.

“Do you like being called Tim or Timothée or what?” Atkins asks in her warm but brisk RP, all trace of her Tottenham upbringing erased.

“Whatever works,” he replies in a bright American accent, that shock of chestnut hair falling into his eyes. “Anything.”

“So you won’t object to ‘darling’? I call everyone darling. I’m told I mustn’t say it these days.” He assures her he is fine with it: “It’s a rite of passage, being called darling by Dame Eileen Atkins.”

“You always, always, have to put the dame in, otherwise you can’t address me,” she jokes.

It’s good the two are getting all this sorted now. A couple of days after our interview they will begin rehearsals for a seven-week run of Amy Herzog’s play 4000 Miles, in which they star as a grandmother and grandson, each quietly dealing with their own grief. Chalamet takes on the role of Leo Joseph-Connell, a somewhat lost 21-year-old who experiences a tragedy while on a 4,000-mile-long cycle ride with his best friend. Atkins plays Vera Joseph, his widowed 91-year-old grandmother, upon whose Manhattan doorstep Leo unexpectedly arrives in the middle of the night, unsure of where else to go. What follows is a wonderful, and wonderfully witty, study in human relationships, a portrait of two generations with decades between them trying to make sense of the world.

Its stars, who’ve met twice previously, in New York last year, are still very much getting to know each other – and are confident in the appeal. “There are things like this play – hoping I don’t butcher it – where you can just sit back and go, ‘Oh, this is a delicious meal,’” says Chalamet. Atkins agrees. “I have a phrase in mind that I shouldn’t really say because it’s going to sound terrible in print.” Which is? “I find it a dear little play, a really dear little play. I think it should be very moving. But who knows? We might f**k it up.”

It’s unlikely. Atkins has been a regular on The Old Vic’s stage since the 1960s, going toe-to-toe with greats from Laurence Olivier to Alec Guinness, and fellow dames (and close friends) Maggie Smith and Judi Dench. Chalamet, meanwhile, is a relative novice, with only two professional plays under his belt. But since his turn as Elio in 2017’s Call Me by Your Name (for which he was Oscar-nominated), his celluloid rise has been meteoric. Roles in Lady Bird, Little Women, The King and Wes Anderson’s upcoming The French Dispatch have not only earned him the slightly fraught badge of “heart-throb”, but proved him to be among the most captivating actors of his generation.

He says he couldn’t resist the opportunity to come to the capital. “There was something exciting about doing a play that feels very New York in London,” Chalamet explains of taking on the part. He’s a diehard theatre fan, too, revealing he saw the six-and-a-half-hour epic The Inheritance – twice. “There are films like The Dark Knight or Punch-Drunk Love or Parasite that can give you a special feeling. But nothing will be like seeing Death of a Salesman on Broadway with Philip Seymour Hoffman or A Raisin in the Sun with Denzel Washington.”

Herzog’s writing particularly spoke to him. “Leo’s in a stasis that was very appealing to me,” he continues. “We find our crisis in moments of stasis, but there’s an irony to it when you’re young, because the law of the land would have you think that to be young is to be having fun, to be coming into your own. But as everyone at this age who’s going through it knows, it’s often a shitshow.”

It’s safe to say that, in casting terms, director Matthew Warchus, also artistic director of The Old Vic, has hit the jackpot. He first took the play to Atkins three years ago, but it was only towards the end of 2019 that Chalamet came on board. When it was announced, in December, that Hollywood’s heir apparent to Leonardo DiCaprio would be making his London stage debut, the news was met with a level of hysteria not usually associated with the 202-year-old theatre’s crowd.

“Oh, my friends have told me who the audience is,” Atkins chimes in when I ask who they think will be coming to see the show. “It’s 40 per cent girls who want to go to bed with Timothée, it’s 40 per cent men who want to go to bed with Timothée, and it’s 20 per cent my old faithfuls.” Is Chalamet prepared for the onslaught? “I think it will be 100 per cent Eileen’s faithfuls,” he demurs.

On the surface, they can seem quite the odd couple. Chalamet, raised in Manhattan by an American dancer-turned-realtor mother and French father, an in-house editor at the United Nations, may be living a breathless, nomadic movie-star life but there’s an iron core of Gen Z earnestness there. He arrives on set with minimal fuss, even deciding to wear the clothes he came in for one shot, before knocking out some push-ups, politely ordering an omelette and generally being divinely well-mannered.

He turns on the star power for the camera, though, and I can confirm it’s as dazzling up close as it is on the red carpet, where he has, famously, casually redrawn the rules for male dressing. From that Louis Vuitton sparkly bib at the 2018 Golden Globes, to a dove-grey satin Haider Ackermann tux at Venice last year, he’s a true fashion darling. Then, of course, there’s his dating life – from Lourdes Ciccone Leon to Lily-Rose Depp – that remains an endless source of fascination to millions worldwide. (All this, it must be said, is of significantly less interest to Dame Eileen.)

Atkins started dance lessons aged three, shortly before the start of the Second World War. By 12, she was performing professionally in pantomime, not far from where she grew up in north London, the youngest daughter in a working-class family. A fast-established theatre star, wider fame didn’t find her until late in life. Despite memorable turns in Upstairs, Downstairs and Gosford Park, it was the 2000 television hits Cranford and Doc Martin, when she was in her early seventies, that finally made her a household name. Today, she lives alone in west London, since her second husband, the TV and film producer Bill Shepherd, died in 2016. She has often spoken of being happily childless, and has zero time for razzmatazz.

And yet, despite their differences, the pair appear perfectly matched. They already have their grandmother-grandson dynamic down pat. Atkins does a fine line in mischievous eyebrow-raising, and at one point recites a limerick that is, honestly, so rude it almost makes her co-star blush. Chalamet, meanwhile, is politeness personified, still trying to work out his thoughts on various subjects, less inclined to give so much of himself away. There is a physical likeness, too, in their delicate features and fine bone structure. They share a naturally melancholic look, one that melts away when they laugh.

Their upcoming play, which premiered to rapturous reviews Off-Broadway in 2011, “about a block” from Chalamet’s high school, LaGuardia, could have been written for them. “Other than not being American, I’m very like the old woman,” says Atkins of the Pulitzer-shortlisted play. “I can’t be bothered to learn the internet.” If there’s one thing she won’t tolerate in rehearsals, it’s people on their phones. That’s the only thing that will “piss me off ”, she says, brusquely.

Ah, phones. Are they really the symbol of generational disconnect? “It’s easy to point to these things,” Chalamet says, tapping his phone on the table, “as the cause or the symptom, but I think my generation is a guinea pig generation of sorts. We’re figuring out the pros and cons and limits of technology.”

Equally, Atkins is keen to distance herself from some of the criticism levelled at her age group. “There’s a saying isn’t there: if you’re not very left wing when you’re young, you’re heartless. And if you’re not very right wing when you’re old, you’re foolish. I’m not political, but I’m not with this government I can assure you – and I’m not with Brexit. I wanted to wear a sweater saying ‘I did not vote Brexit’, because it was all old people who did. Not me, not me,” she snaps. “I went on the march.”

Both are in agreement that intergenerational friendships are too rare these days. “So. Important,” Chalamet says, hitting the table between each word. “There is so much to learn from people who have walked the path of life. That’s why I’m so looking forward to these next couple of months.”

Atkins is thoughtful on the matter. “I don’t miss the fact I don’t have children, but I do envy my friends who have grandchildren,” she says. “About five or six years ago I met a couple of young people – they are just about 30 this year – and, do you know, we go out together. And people immediately say to me, ‘Are these your grandchildren?’ And I say, ‘No.’ And they say, ‘Your godchildren?’ And I say, ‘No, they’re just friends.’ Everybody thinks there is something weird about all three of us. They just don’t get it. But the boy makes me laugh more than anybody and the girl is enchanting. I have more fun with them than I do with almost anybody else.”

I remind Atkins about her description of today’s youth as being overly serious. “I do call them the New Puritans, yes,” she says, before motioning to her young co-star. “He probably drinks like a fish.”

Chalamet, currently single, is remaining tight-lipped about plans for his new London life, and how many late-night manoeuvres in Soho or Peckham it may involve. “I’ve got friends here, which is nice. But I’m here for this – to be terrified at The Old Vic.”

Before we leave, there is a final thing to clear up – Atkins’ aforementioned limerick. “Do you know about the Colin Farrell situation?” Eileen asks Timothée. No, comes his reply. “Better get it over with now because someone will tell you,” she says, proceeding to explain how, when she was “69, about to be 70” and filming Ask the Dust with a 27-year-old Farrell, “he made a pass at me. He came to my hotel room. He was enchanting. I let him chat for two hours, thoroughly enjoying it, but no not that. He was very cross I didn’t.”

But then, she explains guiltily, she later told the story during “some stupid TV show” (Loose Women), where despite her best efforts at keeping Farrell’s identity secret, the internet did its thing and news got out. An apology to Farrell was required. “So I left a limerick on Colin’s phone…” she says. She clears her throat: “There once was a **** of a dame…” she begins, in her imitable theatrical timbre, before reeling off one of the filthiest rhymes I’ve ever heard.

There is a moment of stunned laughter. “Wow, that’s sincerely amazing,” comes Chalamet’s response, as Atkins finishes the verse. He gives her a solemn oath: “I promise I won’t hit on you.”

4000 Miles is at The Old Vic, SE1, from 6 April

[yegarts]

“I Am YEG Arts” Series: Hunter Cardinal

The magic of collaboration and connection starts with an encounter. If you’re an artist reading this, you likely have goosebumps. If you’re the artist who said it, you’re Hunter Cardinal, a sakāwithiniwak (Woodland Cree) theatre artist, hailing from Sucker Creek Cree First Nation. Though his name has been on the lips of Fringe Theatre fans since 2018, he’s most recently gained attention for his and his sister’s newest co-endeavour, Naheyawin. With clients including the Legislative Assembly Office, Naheyawin offers sustainable, Indigenous-based solutions for businesses and institutions working to improve diversity and inclusions and reinvigorate the spirit of Treaty into their organizations.

Regardless of whether he’s writing a play or teaching a workshop, it’s the questions Hunter asks that change the approaches people take. Those skills, paired with his belief that storytellers tell stories for those who need them, help us value our shared histories. Playwright, actor, and myth architect, this week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Hunter Cardinal.

How did you first get involved in the YEG arts community?

I got my start in high school at Strathcona Composite High School! Through the different musicals and training opportunities during that time, I found myself surrounded by incredible teachers and artists from this vibrant community. This often results in me getting to work with people I’ve looked up to for a very long time—something that never gets old for me.

You describe yourself as an Indigenous myth-architect. What does that involve, and what’s the significance of the title?

Myth-architecture is an extension of the teachings we’ve gained from our Elders, who have told us that storytellers tell stories for those who need them. Myth architecture begins with a question that feels important but is without an answer and challenges us to craft a narrative that provides some sort of response. Often, this looks like “completing,” “expanding,” or “setting up” a pre-existing myth. With the play Lake of the Strangers, for example, we completed the myth of Mista Muskwa (The Big Bear) as we tried to answer the question: Why should we heal when there is so much darkness?

Looking back on your success as a first-time playwright with Fringe Theatre, what advice would you give aspiring playwrights?

I would encourage people to use everything they can about themselves and who they are as a person when crafting a story. So often we’re encouraged to leave who we are and whatever we’re bringing with us ‘at the door’ so that we can perform at our best. However, in my experience, the personal is highly universal.

Tell us a little about how Naheyawin came to be and what one of the highlights has been for you.

Naheyawin came from the ways in which my sister and I wanted to combine our passions—storytelling and system thinking—and be of service to our communities. The word Naheyawin, which can be said to translate into ‘the act of being Cree,’ was inspired by a phrase in our family.

That phrase is “When the people forget, the language remembers,” which reminds us that we can look to aspects of who we are—like our language—for guidance and tools to help us with the challenges we’re faced with today. What this looks like today is providing Indigenous-based solutions for the improvement of diversity and inclusion in businesses and organizations across Turtle Island (North America). This can take the form of webinars or us working with organizations on the unique challenges and opportunities they have to better incorporate Indigenous ideas or peoples into their work. I would say a highlight for me is whenever I get the opportunity to facilitate a webinar. I am so honoured to take part in the journey of learning that folx embark on—and so inspired by their open minds and hearts during our time together.

When you’re working with Edmonton businesses or community groups, what do you help them understand about Indigenous spirit.

For me, the most important thing is recognizing the gaps in world views of Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. We often forget that Indigenous peoples have an entirely different way of looking at the world, so when we are talking about certain things like art, land stewardship, or Treaty—though we are using the same words, we are relating to them in entirely different ways. So recognizing these gaps gives us the opportunity to build those metaphoric bridges that lead to a deeper understanding and innovative solutions.

Did you always want to combine your passions for your work and your culture into your artistry?

Combing my culture into my work was fairly recent for me. I was raised with regular, but not frequent, exposure to things like smudging, going to sweat lodges, and visiting family up north at Sucker Creek First Nation. But it wasn’t until I was struggling with a role for a small project that was exploring Chekhov’s Three Sisters that I saw the utility of my culture and identity. For the entire process, I felt like the worst actor in the whole world (an all too familiar feeling)—every choice I made felt awkward and contrived, and nothing felt authentic or realized. When debriefing with my director at the time, he drew a connection between my character’s love of Latin and my love of Indigenous languages—and then everything changed for me. I felt like I had permission to use parts of myself that I otherwise would have ignored because I didn’t think it would be useful or appropriate (kind of tragic when I think about it). I then explored using parts of my identity as an Indigenous 20-something male as the backbone of my role as Hamlet at the Freewill Shakespeare Festival and felt like I could bring something very unique and grounded to that role.

What role has mentorship played in your life? Is there a piece of advice that you carry with you?

Mentorship has guided me entirely through my career—so it would be difficult to pin down just one piece of advice. But if I had to pick one, it would be the late Brent Carver sharing with me that in order to be fully present in a scene, an actor cannot leave themselves at the door. The bits of your life, emotions, etc., that you carry with you throughout the day can be fuel for creating beautiful, authentic, and singular moments on the stage. In that teaching, I walked away with the feeling that I am more than enough, and every single part of who I am and where my life has taken me is valuable.

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

The community. Edmonton has such a thriving scene here—and I would attribute that to the wonderful people that make this such an incredible ecosystem. All the success I’ve been fortunate to experience was all given to me (freely, without question) by those in this community—the roles, experiences, training, and connections.

A lot of the themes in your work seem to focus on the benefits of talking and listening—the richness of understanding. How have you seen that turn into meaningful change.

Talking and listening—whether as an actor, artist, or just a human going about their day—allows you to take a moment to connect with whoever or whatever is around you. That moment of reflection can also allow you to ground yourself in who you are, the values you enter a space with, etc., while at the same time allowing others to be different and unique themselves. I find that this moment to remember that you are connected—yet distinct—can really help folx become a more rooted ally, actor, or person. Often this can be done by asking yourself things like: what or who brought me here? How? What is my goal? What or who is around me?

Why do you choose to live and work in Edmonton?

I’m living here because this is where my friends and family are! When I’ve travelled or lived in other cities, I have always missed the sense of community here. Plus, the cost of living here is much more reasonable than Toronto or Vancouver. Also, I have a great connection to a local farmer for some very high quality, grass-fed beef.

What kind of city do you hope to help Edmonton become?

I hope this city becomes a place where folx feel connected to the larger stories that we’re connected to as Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. The richness of our shared histories makes me so excited to be here, and I really hope that people feel that in the future when they think about their connection to this place. Not only that, I hope that they feel a sense of wonder at the futures that await us.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Hunter Cardinal and Nahayawin

About Hunter Cardinal

Hunter Cardinal is a sakāwithiniwak (Woodland Cree) theatrical artist hailing from Sucker Creek Cree First Nation and currently based in Edmonton, Alberta. Holding a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Acting degree from the University of Alberta, class of 2015, Hunter has performed across Canada and off-Broadway in New York. Recent stage credits include Titus Bouffonious (Theatre Network), Lake of the Strangers (Naheyawin and Fringe Theatre) and Hamlet (Freewill Shakespeare Festival). He is humbled by the steadfast support of his community, with notable achievements to date including the 2020 Elizabeth Sterling Haynes Award for Outstanding Performance in a Supporting Role in a Comedy for his work as Fink in Titus Bouffonious, the 2019 Elizabeth Sterling Haynes Award for Outstanding New Play given to Lake of the Strangers, his first play co-written with his sister and dubbed Edmonton’s Best Actor by Vue Weekly in 2018.

[gotmymindsetonyou]

The Best and Worst Things About Each MCU Movie

These are all just my stinky opinions. You are allowed to disagree, you are allowed to agree. Most of these are jokes anyway. I’m honestly just happy you’re reading this. Minor Spoilers Ahead!

Iron Man (2008) -

Best: This movie almost perfectly sets the tone for the entire universe that has at that point yet to have been created. Looking back, you can imagine the feeling of “Where are they going to go from here?” and I think that’s one of the most important things that this movie needed to accomplish.

Worst: What the fuck is Jeff Bridges doing? What’s his endgame here? I get he’s trying to take over Stark Industries but how’s he gonna do that from inside that giant metal suit he uses to kill people inside their cars?

Incredible Hulk (2008) -

Best: Tim Roth is in it and I think that is pretty cool.

Worst: I haven’t actually seen it, but the cgi looks god awful, what the hell.

Iron Man 2 (2010) - 

Best: Sam Rockwell is so goddamn annoying in this movie and I think that’s amazing, he’s such a little stinker.

Worst: I remember basically nothing else about this movie except some guy talking about birds, idk.

Thor (2011) -

Best: It introduces Loki, probably one of the most beloved villains in the entire franchise. 

Worst: This movie is so goddamn boring and it’s my least favorite and I hate it. Don’t @ me.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) -

Best: The first good chunk of this movie is actually a really compelling character study on Steve Rogers and what makes him a good man. Seeing him basically being paraded as this propaganda figure and watching him struggle with this is one of the most compelling things about him as a person. Really wish they kept this up for the entire movie.

Worst: The red skull is really boring guys. He’s red, that’s it. Give me something else to work with man.

Marvel’s The Avengers (2012) -

Best: This movie proved that you can have a superhero team up with this many people and have it fucking work. It doesn’t matter if you hate or love this movie, you cannot deny the effects it has on the genre.

Worst: It’s shot like a bad CW show. It looks so ugly.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

Best: This one is actually my favorite of the bunch. Exploring the question of what makes Iron Man, the suit or the person, is shown really well here. I thoroughly dig it.

Worst: That scene where Harley flip flops about whether or not he really knows Tony makes me so irrationally angry.

Thor: The Dark World (2013)

Best: It’s slightly better than Thor, and I actually can feel myself start to have a good time whenever Loki’s on screen.

Worst: Once again, this movie is insanely forgettable. Christopher fucking Eccleston is in this movie and I could not tell you a single thing about this character.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - 

Best: This movie has one of the best hand-to-hand fight scenes in the entire MCU. You know the one I’m talking about. It gives me chills, I love it.

Worst: Having the government stand-in that Steve questions in the beginning of the movie actually be a front for N*zis that he can just beat up, and not an actual metaphor for the issues with the government today? You ain’t slick.

Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 1 (2014) -

Best: This is the mcu movie basically anyone can enjoy. Anybody can watch this movie and find something to love about it. The characters, the messages about family and learning to be okay with feeling love, the jokes, hell, even the space setting. THE MUSIC. It’s the full package baby.

Worst: Chris Pratt has an unfortunate cameo in this one.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) -

Best: I have a couple of things. A) The party scene where we get to watch the Avengers talk and be friends with each other and act like people. B) I love James Spader no matter what he is doing.

Worst: Why is everyone quipping? Why is the robot quipping? Why would they massacre my boy like that?

Ant-man (2015) -

Best: I want Paul Rudd to marry me, best dad in the mcu.

Worst: The moment Edgar Wright left this project.

Captain America: Civil War (2016) -

Best: Introduces two great characters, Spider-man and Black Panther. These two get a lot of love when it comes to designing their characters in this movie and it makes me very happy.

Worst: It made the fandom very unhappy and I don’t like picking sides. It feels like watching your many parents get divorced for two hours.

Doctor Strange (2016) -

Best: The magic looks really fucking cool in this movie. Also, the ending with Dormammu is up there for one of my favorite endings of an mcu movie. Having Doctor Strange actually outsmart the villain instead of actually fighting him is endlessly more satisfying.

Worst: Could not tell you a thing else about this movie other than I heard Tilda Swinton plays a character that’s probably not supposed to be white.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017) -

Best: Guys, I gotta come clean about something. I actually like this one better than Volume 1. I know, I know, a good majority of people do not feel this way, but I feel a lot more emotionally attached to the movie, and that’s mainly because of two characters: Yondu Udonta and Rocket Racoon. Rocket realizing that he’s an asshole but his found family still loves him gets me, man. I can’t help it. Helps that Ego is a great villain as well. Also the cinematography is some of the best in the mcu.

Worst:  No Howard the Duck.

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) -

Best: I think the best thing about this movie is just the solidness of it all. No one part stands out as the best because most everything about this movie is pretty damn good. Michael Keaton will knock your socks off, go watch it.

Worst: Donald Glover is in it to tease a Miles Morales reveal, BUT NOTHING HAS HAPPENED ABOUT IT SINCE.

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) -

Best: Taika Waititi knows how to do shit right, lemme tell ya. Taking away Thor’s hammer from the beginning was probably one of the smartest choices in the movie, and this is a movie of smart choices.

Worst: Jeff Goldblum isn’t in it more.

Black Panther (2018) -

Best: Erik Killmonger is easily the best villain in a Marvel movie, and you can quote me on that. An amazing performance from Michael B. Jordan. It’s also the first Marvel movie I saw in theatres (I know, I was very late to the game)

Worst: Everett K. Ross is CIA propaganda and the last fight scene on the train tracks looks like shit.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - 

Best: It’s really hard to sum up exactly what my thoughts are on this movie. I think one of the movie’s best qualities is the bigness of it. This movie feels huge, there’s a lot of different stuff to love here. If you like Wakanda, there’s a whole epic battle set in Wakanda. If you’re more a fan of the space stuff, we got a whole lotta space stuff. The best part of this movie is there’s probably gonna be something that everyone can enjoy packed in here.

Worst: I also think the bigness of this movie is also one of it’s larger weaknesses. Because there’s so much stuff in this movie, not all of it is fully fleshed out. Tony Stark gets a lot to do in this movie, but Steve Rogers sort of feels sidelined at parts. There’s a perfect balance that I don’t think was quite hit.

Ant-man and The Wasp (2018) -

Best: I still really love Paul Rudd in this movie, and I think his relationship with Cassie is still really cute. World’s Greatest Grandma indeed.

Worst: This movie really had its work cut out for itself, coming off the heels of Infinity War, so it sort of falls short in that respect. I don’t want to criticize it too harshly, it is what it is, nothing insanely memorable. 

Captain Marvel (2019) - 

Best: I still think this is a pretty good movie, despite what a lot of people think. I struggle a lot with believing that I have to prove myself to others, so having Carol finally realize that she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone was really important to me, and probably a lot of other women.

Worst: There were parts where I wasn’t as engaged, like the scenes in the Kree empire. That made some of the movie feel off to me, it’s a bit unbalanced.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - 

Best: This movie 100% achieves what it sets out to do, and that is to be a huge cinematic event. I don’t even really see this movie as a movie, it’s more like one huge experience. My viewing had one of the most energetic crowds I’ve ever seen a movie with.

Worst: I don’t really think this movie holds up to multiple re-watches. Granted, I saw it in theatres three times. I don’t think any subsequent viewings are ever going to pack that same punch that my first viewing had, and that makes it harder to come back to. Also Steve had a totally lame ending.

Spider-man: Far From Home (2019) - 

Best: After ending on such a downer note in the last movie, this felt like a weight being lifted off my chest. Jake Gyllenhaal gives an insanely energetic performance that I absolutely adore. (Also seeing it with my dad was fun, he would nudge me every time they switched locations to tell me he’d been there)(Also when I saw it with my sibling a kid ran out of the theatre during the Mysterio mind-fuck sequence, some just can’t handle that lifestyle)

Worst: Peter Parker and MJ remind me of how perpetually single I am.

[curatedkmen]

“Closer”

2019

“Have you read the script?” Manager Hong had just entered the meeting room at Salt headquarters and Seonho was sitting there alone with his iced Americano, reading a script.

“Oh yeah I’m reading it right now” he has been reading the script for over an hour now and so far he really likes how the story develops and the character that he will be playing, Ko Jiseok.

He has been working on TV for around 3 years at now and he has never played as the first male lead. He never complained though, he fully appreciates every work that has been given to him. For him, every role is interesting and every work should be considered as part of a learning process. However, he has also been acting for almost 10 years now so he couldn't help but get extra excited when he first heard that he finally got an offer as the first male lead in a drama. He had read the script before finally accepting the offer and today he just got the rest of the episodes from the drama script and decided to continue reading it.

“Have you heard about the female lead?” manager Hong asked again.

“Like heard from you or from our CEO? Nope I haven’t” he answered while still reading the script.

“No I mean, don’t you read the news or something?”

Seonho finally raised his head and looked at his manager for the first time in 15 minutes since she entered the room. He let out a small chuckle, “which one? The Moon Geunyoung one? Hahaha” he laughed and took a sip of his iced Americano again. Seonho knew that there were a lot of rumors of which actress was gonna take the offer as the female lead in Catch The Ghost. He also was very well aware that such rumours are usually wrong that in the end another actress or actors other than the one being rumoured is gonna be the one who takes the role. So when he heard about the rumour, that Moon Geunyoung, the nation’s little sister of South Korea was going to play alongside him, a 3 year old television rookie, he just shrugged it off.

Manager Hong just sat there looking at him in disbelief, the fuck is wrong with this guy.

“Yeah the Moon Geunyoung one. She accepted the offer already”

Seonho choked on his drink the moment Manager Hong answered his question. WTF?!

I mean I would love to act with her. She is such a legendary actress and all but this can't be real what if…. I mean she can’t still remember me now can’t she? It has been 10 years? Well unless I count that 2016 incident another meeting so it has been 3 years but still how did this happen?!!

“Wait wait wait wait” he decided to open his mouth to help him digest the information he just received. “When?” He tried so hard to stay calm despite being overly excited but nervous at the same time, he felt like he could explode at that moment.  

“When did she accept? Like a week ago”

He closed his eyes and he let out a loud sigh, he was trying so hard not to yell out of frustration. Manager Hong couldn’t help but laugh at the sight in front of her.

He finally spoke in a low voice, trying to sound as patient as possible, “My Dongsaeng~ you knew about this a week ago so why didn’t you tell me A WEEK AGO?!”

Manager Hong knew right away when Seonho called her Dongsaeng that the guy is frustrated with her. He never got mad at all, which is why she loves to tease him because he would just get frustrated alone and it is so fun to watch.

“You were busy with shoots and you had that family trip with your mom and dad, I didn’t want you to lose focus and of course I did not want to bother your family time with any work related news. Besides, it’s not that urgent”

Seonho closed his eyes and let out a loud-frustrated-sigh for the second time.

“What’s the big deal Oppa? You’re gonna act with Moon Geunyoung! The nation’s little sister for your first drama as first male lead! Isn’t this amazing? I am so excited for you,” as manager Hong talked she was looking at Seonho and the boy had this blank stare in his eyes, “Oppa?! Hello Seonho Oppa?”

Seonho finally snapped back to reality and answered, “Yeah of course it’s amazing. I just, I needed to prepare myself Hong Yoon-ah”

“Yeah right you got like 2 months to prepare dude, chill. Or are you hiding something from me right now?”

Seonho got flustered by the question. Suddenly the memory from 10 years ago flashed back upon his eyes and just the glimpse of it made his face warm. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth of what happened 10 years ago and so he decided to just lie.

“You know she’s a legendary actress and I am such a huge fan of her. Also this is my first lead drama project, I would want to give a good impression to her of course. I don't want to make any mistake.”

“You are like one of the most thoughtful guys I have ever met in my life, you got this. Besides the first script reading is still in a week. You have some time to prepare. I love to tease you but I am not stupid you know”

“Right,” Seonho answered her before his eyes made its way back to the script. He brought the script closer to his face so Hong Yoon wouldn't notice his facial expression and he stared at it blankly. Fuck.

2010

Last night, one of his friends contacted him and asked if he would be interested to watch “Closer” together with him. At first Seonho was too lazy to come but when he heard the Moon Geunyoung was the one who played Alice in the play he mediately said yes. It was June and he had just finished his second play that year, a month before, he received his enlistment letter and now he has only one month before he finally enlisted. He just started to do plays only for a year and he has been enjoying it so far.

The play “Closer” is such a legendary play from the UK that he has heard so much before. He had never seen the play but he saw the movie once when he was in high school. He still remembered the dialogues from the movies and how he liked it. He still thinks that the characters portrayed in Closer were very intriguing and complicated that he remembers to be confused of whom he should be sympathized with when he first saw it.

That evening, Seonho and his friend lined up at the entrance while both holding the ticket to the play.

“Moon Geunyoung is so pretty damn. I feel like it was only yesterday that I saw her in Autumn in My Heart. Remember when we used to watch all of her movies back in high school?” said Seonho’s friend.

“As if, she is only a year younger than us. But yeah I remember, she is even prettier now,” Seonho answered his friend while looking at the poster hung up at the entrance. Deep down inside he relates to what his friend said. He couldn't believe that the Moon Geunyoung is now all grown up.

They finally entered the auditorium after awhile. The seats were packed with audiences, thankfully both of them got the perfect seats in the middle row. Not long after the play finally started.

When Geunyoung finally entered the stage, he almost could not believe his own eyes. The nation’s little sister whom he saw a lot on tv since he was a kid has now bloomed into such a beautiful young lady, standing on stage with her mini black dress, looking very mature and sexy. While holding a beer in her hand, she delivered her lines perfectly and seductively to his opposing actor. She smiled, laughed, cried, yelled, threw tantrums on stage and it was all delivered beautifully. Seonho was instantly stunned by her beauty and of course by her mature acting.

For god sake, why is she acting with this old guy, Um Ki Joon, for such an intense play like this. He mumbled inside.

She plays Alice, a young stripper who ends up dating Dan, an aspiring writer. The two of them later on got entangled in a complicated love story with Larry and Anna.

Seonho continued to be in awe for the whole 1 hour and 30 minutes not only because he finally got to see that legendary play that he had been curious for so long, but he fell even harder for Geunyoung’s charm on stage. Although during the play, he also could not help but get a little bit hard while watching Geunyoung kissing that guy on stage. After the play ended and he exited the auditorium, that image of Geunyoung in that dress still lingered in his mind.

“Wanna get drinks?” Seonho asked his friend.

“Sorry bro, I have this date with that girl I met at the club last week”

“Oh well, good luck. I’ll just drink alone, all by myself when it is my enlistment next month it’s okay mean friend” “Come on man, I’m sorry. I’ll treat you for a drink tomorrow”

“Hahahah I’m just joking. Go, your date is waiting” “Alright, bye. Talk to you soon!”

After they parted ways, Seonho found himself walking towards a nearby jazz club that he just discovered a few months ago. The bar is in a secluded area with no sign in front of it, unless anyone told you that it is a bar then no one would have guessed it. One of his theatre friends actually told him about this bar. The owner used to be a lighting director of plays where he worked at the auditorium Seonho just visited. Now he has retired and opened a jazz club instead where actors, actresses and theatre crews have drinks after they finished their play.

He made his way to the bar and ordered his usual. He greeted the owner once he saw him.

“Are you alone?” the owner asked.

“Yes Sajangnim, my friend ditched me for his date”

“I can always accompany you here. Did you just come back from practice or what?” “No, I just watched that play “Closer.” I have no more plays Sajangnim, I am going to the military soon” Seonho answered him while sipping his drinks.

The atmosphere of the jazz club that night was quite calm. With jazz music playing in the background and just a few people were having drinks on the table behind him. He was alone by himself at the bar. Few moments later, someone sat beside him and ordered a drink. He couldn’t look at her face but she smelled nice like a woody and flowery scent mixed with sweat.

Her drinks came but she was too busy taking off her scarf and putting things inside her purse so when she was finally done, she accidentally grabbed Seonho’s glass instead of hers before she finally realized that her glass drink was there, closer to her purse.

“Oh I am sorry” she said.

“It’s okay” Seonho answered her while finally looking at the woman beside him.

There she was. Moon Geunyoung. The woman he just saw on stage earlier. The women that he couldn’t get out of his mind since he left the auditorium 30 minutes ago.

Seonho was flustered so he quickly turned his head back to the racks of drinks in front of him. He did not want Geunyoung to see his cheek got red.

“Geunyoung-ssi, how was your play? My friend here just came from watching it” the Sajangnim suddenly jumped in the conversation while pointing his fingers to Seonho. Seonho sat there bewildered at the fact that Sajangnim knew Geunyoung and would just strike a conversation like this. Seonho also lowkey cursed him inside for dragging him into their conversation.

“Oh really? How did you like it?” Geunyoung answered him while looking at Seonho who just sipped his drinks because he felt thirsty all of the sudden. He tried to control himself because he almost choked when he realized that Geunyoung was now talking to him.

“Oh um I really liked it. I loved it so much. I am also a theatre actor and I have always been interested to watch “Closer” on stage. You did really well, Geunyoung-ssi” ah shit why did I say Geunyoung-ssi? Do I have to pretend to not know her? Does she think I am a freak now?

“That is very sweet of you, thank you….” she paused and raised her palm halfway toward  Seonho, waiting for him to tell her his name.

“Oh it’s Seonho.”

“Thank you Seonho-ssi. I am glad that you liked it. It was my first stage play so I was very nervous. You’re an actor so I trust your opinion.” she said it while smiling at Seonho.

Seonho just smiled back at her. He did not know what to say. He still could not believe that he had just talked to Moon Geunyoung. The actress. No matter how many times he replayed the sentence in his head he still could not believe it. He also could not believe that Moon Geunyoung would go to a club alone by herself after her performance. Shouldn’t she go anywhere with her manager and bunch of bodyguards?

He had so many questions popped up in his head but he was just too nervous to say anything to the woman beside him.

They both drank in silence for 5 minutes while listening to the music until Geunyoung broke the silence.

“So you’re a theatre actor? Which play have you done? Maybe I have seen it?” Geunyoung asked. She knew deep down she couldn’t possibly have watched his play. She has been so busy with work since she was in junior high school, she barely had time to do anything she likes. That night was an exception since she actually had a dinner with her agency’s CEO to discuss work but he cancelled so she could sneak out from her manager and went to this jazz club instead.

“I just started last year with “New Boeing Boeing” and I just finished my play for this year “Rooftop House Cat”. But it is a small play, you can’t possibly have seen it” Seonho answered her question, trying so hard to stay calm.

“Right I have not, but i would love to see your play some time. I actually enjoy watching plays a lot but I couldn't find the time. When is your next one?”

“Ah it’s um, my next one is probably going to be in 2 years. I will enlist next month hahaha” Seonho let out an awkward laugh. He did not know why he did that but he just did. He was just too nervous. FOR FUCK SAKE MOON GEUNYOUNG WANTS TO WATCH MY PLAY BUT I AM GOING TO THE MILITARY FUCK YOU GOVERNMENT.

“Aw that’s too bad, but 2 years is not a long time, I’ll watch your play later in 2012.” Geunyoung answered while sipping her drinks and smiling sweetly at Seonho. He felt like he could pass out right there seeing her smiling like that.

Geunyoung was still wearing her dress that she wore on stage as Alice. She was only covering it up with a black jeans jacket and a scarf when she entered the room but now that she took it off, she was only wearing the black mini dress. She had tied her hair up, showing her bare neck even more and Seonho tried so hard to stop himself from looking at her collarbone.

“For real?” “Yeah of course! Why not? You watched my play, in turn I should watch yours. I am sure you’re great. So how did you decide to be a stage actor?”

Seonho was stunned at her sudden question. It finally felt like her question was a little bit personal than the previous ones. He was going to answer her but he always felt a little bit embarrassed to talk about anything related to his dreams. He feared that the word that came out and the reality in the future might not be as pretty as he imagined it to be.

“I am actually an introverted person, I used to have a hard time speaking in front of the public, it just always gives me a sudden anxiety. During my second year in university, one of my friends actually introduced me to the theatre club and I started to first help out with the staging and script writing then soon I began to act in small roles and slowly I got trusted with bigger roles and I loved it since then. I loved that I could act as different characters, not be myself for a while and suddenly my fear of standing and speaking in front of the public is long gone. I guess when I abandon my real identity on stage, I also abandon my fear and now acting has been a new part of me.”

When Seonho finally stopped talking, he realized he probably had been talking too much and he just realized that those beautiful eyes had been staring at him while he was talking.

“Sorry if I talked too much,” Seonho said right away.

“No, no, no, please. I love to hear more. It’s always nice to talk to strangers about your struggles you know. Sometimes they give better reactions than your close ones.”

Seonho, again, stunned by her reaction. Why does it feel like she is lonely in her world?

Seonho did not know how to respond to her comment and so he just stared at her beautiful eyes until she spoke again, “I am sorry Seonho-ssi if I asked something too personal. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” before Seonho got the chance to even open his mouth, Geunyoung added, “why do we keep apologizing to each other, we didn’t do anything wrong hahaha” followed by a laughter. Her laughing face, her hand tucking a few strands of her hair to the back of her ear, he felt like seeing everything suddenly move in slow motion. Get yourself together Kim Seonho, what are you doing?

Seonho couldn’t help it but also laughed at her words, “Right, what’s wrong with us, hahaha.”

For a moment he felt like he could relate to her so much, like he saw himself in her. He did not know exactly why. 40 minutes ago he was just watching Moon Geunyoung the famous actress on stage and now suddenly he is in a bar having drinks while talking to her. He wondered how he could suddenly feel this intense connection with her.

“If I may ask..” he paused half way, hesitating as to whether he should ask her the question in his head or not. The woman noticed his hesitation so she went ahead and said, “yeah go ahead, you can ask me anything.”

“How does it feel to, I guess, having your dreams settled since you were young?”

The question that Seonho asked was unlike any other question that she had ever received before. Everyone always asked something similar like, “have you always wanted to be an actress?” “How do you like your job in acting?”

“Well uhm, I have always been grateful to be able to do acting since I was little. It has always been my dream since I was 9 or 10 years old. But nowadays, it feels like I have nothing to chase anymore. When people around my age had just started to achieve their dream and got excited about it, they got really excited about their adult life, while I have been living in mine for 10 years yet I am still so young. I don’t know what moves me anymore. I don't wanna be ungrateful but that is how I truly feel inside.”

Seonho, of course, could not relate to anything she just said. He spent his life up until that day just like any other normal person. Grew up with his family, went to school, had a lot of memories with friends and such. He was confused about choosing his major for university until he finally got interested in acting, fell in love with it and he had now only started to build his dream. He had not yet lived in it. So he could understand when she said that “people around my age had just started to achieve their dream,” because he is those people. He was still so excited with what life has to offer and Geunyoung is only a year younger than him.

“You know you can always have more than one dream. Right? I mean life is long enough to tie us into just having one dream and now that you have achieved one, you can always choose another dream. Just go crazy!” Seonho said that while smiling brightly at Geunyoung, the girl could not help but smiled back at him.

“Of course! That makes sense. I want to travel the world, I want to see penguins in Ushuaia, I want to try to live in New York for a short while, I want to… god yeah there are so many things to do. You’re right”

“Right? Wait before you continue, where is that penguin place Ushukai?”

“Ushuaia, it’s a city in Argentina where you can see penguins in their natural habitat. Actually it’s called “End of the World'' because it is located at the Southernmost tip of South America.” Seonho looked at her passionately and talked about her dreams while smiling, he felt like he kinda brought a smile back to her face as she looked a bit gloomy while answering his first question.

“Sure, go see penguins, go to New York, go ….. Uhm what else? Go dive in the ocean and see turtles hahaha. Just do whatever it is that makes you happy.”

“You’re right Seonho-ssi. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being nice”

“Of course, Geunyoung-ssi. Anytime”

They continued to talk for another hour, Geunyoung even ordered another drink after she finished her first glass. He could not possibly order another one since he had a pretty low alcohol tolerance. He did not want to do anything stupid in front of this beautiful women in front of him. Although at that time, he was already a little bit tipsy.

While they were still talking, Seonho caught a glimpse of a few people at the entrance. They had been standing there for around 10 minutes but did not actually enter the club. Some of them had a camera on and he just got a hunch that they might be Geunyoung’s fans. because Geunyoung was sitting facing him, her back was facing the club’s entrance so she her face could not be seen from the outside,

“Geunyoung-ssi, why do I feel like those people outside might be your fans?” Seonho said while trying his best to not be obvious from looking at those people outside.

Out of reflect, Geunyoung immediately turned his head to see what Seonho was talking about. Seonho immediately grabbed Geunyoung’s chin made her face him again  before she managed to turn her head fully towards the entrance of the club. As soon as he realized what he was doing he immediately let go of his hand and his face turned even redder now from the alcohol and from touching Geunyoung’s face, “sorry, I just, I thought it’s better if they don’t see you because you know. I am sorry I didn’t mean to-”  

“No no no you’re right, it was stupid of me to just turned around. It’s okay, thank you” Geunyoung cut him because she did not want to make the boy feel bad. She knew he did not mean to cross the line or anything, but he looked so nervous and a bit embarrassed after he suddenly grabbed her chin.

“shit what do I do now. I’m gonna be so dead if they took a picture of me” Geunyoung let out her concerns.

“Sajangnim, isn’t there any back exit here?” Seonho asked the owner.

“Not from this floor, you can go upstairs and take the fire escape to go down. The building is strange, I know, but that is your best shot. Let me apologize to you Geunyoung-ssi, usually this area is safe from random fans like that. I don’t know what happened today”

“No worries Sajangnim. It happens” Geunyoung assured the owner to not feel bad.

“It’s okay I can help get you out from here Geunyoung-ssi” Seonho blurted out suddenly. He was already a little bit drunk at that time but thankfully he did stop drinking after just one glass of scotch so he could still totally run and helped Geunyoung escape the club. Geunyoung on the other hand, had a pretty high alcohol tolerance so she was still very much on alert.

“Thank you so much,” Geunyoung answered while putting on her jacket and gathered her stuff.

“You can just follow me” Seonho said as he stood up and walked in front of her. Geunyoung followed him from behind and both of them took the stairs to the second floor. When they finally arrived at the door, Seonho went ahead and opened the door, “I will go down first just in case you slipped out or anything.”

Seonho safely went down first, “give me your purse” Geunyoung threw her purse towards Seonho so she could go down easily, “don’t worry I’m standing right below you. Just take your time.”

Geunyoung slowly went down the fire escape and when she was about to hit the last step, she missed it, thankfully Seonho was there, so he held her waist and she fell back to Seonho’s chest instead, “You okay?” she was practically in Seonho’s embrace for a split second her hair touched Seonho’s nose and in that moment he could smell her woody-floral scent mixed with her sweat even more which drove him crazy. He couldn’t tell anymore if he was drunk from her smell or from the alcohol he had earlier.  

“Yes, thank you.” Geunyoung answered hurriedly while looking down and pretending to fox her mini dress because she felt her face suddenly get warm.

“Okay so how-” Seonho was just about to ask how she is gonna get home but both of them heard a bunch of people talking from the direction of the entrance of the club, “I am sure it was Geunyoung unnie you know” as they both looked at the direction of the voice, they could see one of the fans had walked towards where they both was standing.

Without wasting any second, Seonho grabbed her hand and took her inside a small alley between the club and the building behind it. The alley was so small it barely fits the two of them there. They both stood facing each other with his chest glued to hers. Everytime she breathed, he could feel her chest moving, the same goes to Geunyoung. Fuck me. I can feel her breathing right on my chest please dear god please save me from any trouble. My dick better not be doing anything stupid for fuck sake.

Seonho did not know where to look, he looked towards the right at the street to see if those fans were still around, but nothing in sight. He then turned left to see whether there’s another way that they could escape, but the alley was a dead end. When he turned around, his lips brushed her forehead because they were standing so close to each other.

Geunyoung was a bit frightened and overwhelmed with the whole situation that she rested her head on Seonho’s chest while trying to catch the breath.  Seonho closed his eyes at the whole situation, he was too overwhelmed with having Geunyoung literally glued to his body and now her head was resting on top of his chest. He rested his head to the wall, praying his dick wouldn’t get hard during this very critical time.

As they were still standing, they could hear the fans voice getting closer from where they were.

“Did you call the taxi already?”

“Yeah, he is gonna come soon. I already said to pick us up here”

Apparently those fans were waiting for their taxi from the side building of the club. Meaning that Seonho and Geunyoung would not be able to go out until those fans left.

Both of them were standing at the back of a bunch of used street signs that were thrown away in that alley so no one could barely see them behind those signs.

Seonho was still in his own madness from having Geunyoung breathed against his chest. They were silent for so long until he broke the silence, “are you okay?”

Geunyoung raised her head and looked at Seonho in the eye, “Yes.”

“Okay good.”

Right after he finished his answer, Geunyoung clasped Seonho’s head and brought his face closer to her face until her lips touched his.

At that time, Geunyoung did not know what was going on with herself. She had just met this guy, Kim Seonho, for the first time and as a celebrity she should be careful with meeting strangers but she just felt like she trusted him. She enjoyed their conversation in the bar, she felt like someone understood her and she has not felt that way for a long time.

She did not know if it was the alcohol kicking in or the loneliness or the fact that this Kim Seonho guy is so handsome and polite, but she just couldn’t control herself.

She started out slowly, kissing the top of his lips and pressing her lips against his. Seonho was taken aback that he just stood still not moving his lips against hers whatsoever. Geunyoung continued to kiss him deeper, now she put her other hand on top of her hand to get him closer to her face. Seonho noticed how the girl in front of him was kissing him hungrily and at that time, he could not think straight anymore he then went ahead and kissed her back. He put his hand at the back of her waist and brought her body even closer to him, as if they were not already feeling each other's breath since 15 minutes ago.

The kiss became deeper and hotter as his hand went down behind her mini dress and squeezed her ass. She reacted to Seonho’s touch by letting out a small moan inside his mouth as she brought her body even closer to Seonho and she could feel the boy got hard against her lower stomach. She continued to kiss him and raised one of her legs half way up so the boy could get better access to squeeze her ass. They finally stopped for a while to catch their breath and Seonho just went straight to her collar bone, sucking it so hard that Geunyoung could not help but let out a moan. He did not want the fans to hear them so he closed her mouth with his hand as he continued to kiss, bite and suck on the girl’s neck while still squeezing her ass. Geunyoung was having a hard time staying quiet as she felt all this sensation from her neck and her ass. She thought maybe it’s better that they just kiss so his mouth would shut her up from moaning and so she put her hands on Seonho’s ears and brought the boy’s lips back to hers. They continued to deepen the kiss and groped each other's body. Geunyoung’s legs are now completely wrapped around Seonho’s hip and she could feel his hardness rubbing against her. She then pushed her hip against his hard dick and Seonho let out a moan for the first time inside her mouth. The guy was already about to lose it when they were still in their full clothing. He then slipped his hand inside Geunyoung’s panties. He was ready to make her feel good inside. As he did that, Geunyoung whispered between their  kisses, “yes,” before continuing to kiss him relentlessly again.  When his fingers finally arrived at the spot, he noticed that the girl was already so wet. He inserted his three fingers inside and started moving it gently. He could feel Geunyoung shivers in pleasure every time he moved his fingers. As he continued to pleasuring her she grabbed his hair and bit his lower lip, to prevent herself from letting out a loud moan, “you’re so good fuck. I’m so close.” Seonho did not answer to what she said, he was still losing his mind. He was too horny, drunk and he was focusing on pleasuring the woman in front of him. Her low moan inside his mouth in between their kisses was like a drug to his ears. He couldn’t believe he was fingering the nation’s little sister in an alley. The actress that he just got to know her name an hour ago. Not long after, she stopped kissing him and put her head back to the wall behind her, pulling Seonho’s head as well as his tongue was still inside her and her hands were still grabbing his hair tightly, she came and he could feel her warm cum all over his fingers.  They were both catching their breaths with Seonho burying his nose against her neck and Geunyoung resting her chin on top of his broad shoulders when her phone rang. He dropped her slowly as she took her phone inside her purse.  “Hello? Yes I am still in that club. I was avoiding some fans so if you could turn around and pick me up from the back side of the building that would be great.” Seonho was standing beside her, looking down and his hard dick. Can you calm down now? Please. You’re not getting it tonight.  He did not realize for how long they were making out in that alley but he realized then that there were no sounds of the fans anymore. They probably went home already.     “So that was my manager. He’s just turning the car around, she’ll be here soon.” Geunyoung said as she fixed her hair and outfit from all the grabbing earlier. “That’s great. I think the fans are gone already.” “Thank you for saving me today.”  “Sure, I mean, of course, don’t mention it.”  He understood it as she was thanking him for saving her from her fans but what she actually meant was for being a gentleman throughout the evening. She was anxious with her first theatre play and she was not in her right mind, running away from her manager and had a drink alone in a club. She surely never had a stranger whom she met for the first time kissed her, let alone put his fingers inside her but there she was, standing in front of that handsome stranger.  Her phone rang and both knew that she had to leave. She took a step forward towards him, put her hand behind his neck and went for a goodbye kiss. They had been kissing for god knows how many minutes but still, when she kissed him again after their make out session, he still got that butterflies in his stomach and so was she. She then parted from the kiss and walked away towards her car. 

[mimik-u]

Flower Child (Chapter 13): Blue (III)

Goodness, I'm nearly a year and a half late, but here we are—Chapter 13 of "Flower Child." First of all, I want to give my sincerest apologies for the delay... I mentioned this at the start of my fic "Facets," but the simplest and truest story is that my muse for writing Steven Universe and, well, writing in general petered out for a long time and has only recently returned. But, because it has recently returned, I wanted to begin to make good on a promise I made to you guys so many months ago—that one day, I would finish this story. So let's do this. <3 I'm ready now. 

(1) I read through the previous twelve chapters, lmao, and half-loved and half-hated my writing, but the point of that exercise, beyond getting acquainted with the plot of "FC" again, was to also do some quick grammar and flow revisions, so a few of the previous chapters should read just a little better than maybe they had before.

(2) Fun fact! Chapter 13 is pretty interesting because some portions of it were actually written over a year ago; it was an incredible challenge for me to work with what I had as a 2019 writer versus what I've learned as a 2020 writer.

(4) Someone asked on Tumblr a long time ago if there was a playlist I worked with in writing this story...

(5) And finally, and most importantly, this chapter is incredibly heavy, dealing with themes of suicidal ideation and extreme depression.

Please be cautious while reading if these are topics that are triggering to you!

i.

The shiny, black town car eased to a stop at the pull-through entrance of the hospital, drawing the gazes of passerby on the sidewalk. An older lady in a wheelchair, a group of what appeared to be college kids in scrubs, a scraggly-looking patient who’d obviously escaped the confines of his room to light a cigarette—they all stopped and stared as the back door of the overtly fancy car was pried open from the inside out, as a metal cane preceded a woman who quite looked like she needed it.

Blue Diamond unfolded into the light of day, trembling.

Because it was hard.

It was so hard.

To be here.

(To be.)

She wanted to collapse where she stood, dissemble and dissolve away one piece of herself at a time; she leaned heavily on the head of her cane and lit upon the sole pair of eyes that weren’t looking at her—or, really, her Lincoln. The man named Greg Universe stood next to the automatic doors with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring at the ground, all but boring a hole into it. When the sliding doors opened and closed at his backside, they appeared to be ripping into him, piece by miserable piece.

“I’ll call when I’m ready,” Blue murmured to her valet before shutting the door and slowly hobbling over to Greg.

Clank.

The onlookers glanced away as the town car drove off, resumed their lives and cared not for yet another broken person in their midst. The hospital was full of them as it was. Perhaps they were even broken themselves—very probably they were.

Blue Diamond did not care to know.

Clank.

I’m betraying her, she thought, she was always thinking. I’m leaving her behind. I’m betraying her. I’m—

Clank.

The clanking did the trick, catching Greg’s attention and only half-holding it. He lifted his head slowly and mustered a smile that must have been agony. It wobbled on his lips and very nearly disappeared in his bushy beard. It pulled at him—all over. He looked like a Picasso gone wrong, an abstraction of a man stretched too far.

“Hey, just in time.” He gave a shaky little laugh that rather sounded like a sob and then somehow kept talking, his entire physiognomy alive with his nerves. “Steven’s so excited to see you again. He hasn’t stopped talking about ya since this morning, which is kinda nuts because he was so tired yesterday, but this is a good thing, and so we should really go up and see him now because—”

She cut across him; it was a quiet act, a merciful one. “Greg.”

It was just his name, a singular syllable, a sound, but even that was enough.

Mr. Universe’s face fell into geometric disarray.

“No use hiding it, huh?” He half-wept, half-laughed again, scrubbing a hand over his face and bringing up his shirt to soak up what was left.

“No,” Blue Diamond whispered, her hands tightening on the head of her cane. “It’s scrawled all over you, I’m afraid.”

“Figures,” he said hoarsely. “I’m a mess.”

“No more than I am.” She pried one of her hands away from the other and gestured loosely at her entire body with a wry smile. “If you’re a mess, then I am a dereliction.”

It wasn’t a contest; it was the truth.

Four years of grieving had wasted her.

Blue Diamond was skeletal.

Broken.

Greg took this in and considered; his smile that really wasn’t a smile resolved itself into a quiet, aching sort of frown. It tugged his face downwards; it tugged at the hollows of her chest. She’d seen him only a little over a week ago, and yet today, he looked as though he’d aged a hundred years in the span of eight days. There were bags under his eyes and sunken dunes in his cheeks.

There was a little boy in a hospital bed.

There was a disease.

It was killing them both.

“How do I do this?” He asked the ground. “How did you—” But he stopped short; his breath hitched.

It was a highly personal question after all.

It was no short wonder that Blue’s cane didn’t snap beneath her grip.

“How did I do it?” She returned softly all the same. The slight breeze stirred the strands of hair poking out of her silvery braid.

Greg nodded mutely, the desperation in his face tangible. She could reach out if she wanted and touch his hurt, the very heart of it, and all of its dimensions. (She didn’t want to.)

“To be entirely truthful,” she murmured, “I’m not sure that I ever did.”

ii.

It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon, and it was also 2:38AM, the very moment when a police officer had the audacity to come to their door and tell two mothers that their daughter was dead, gone, and never coming back. His expression was a gathering bruise, and his words were like bullets, striking right between the ribs.

Blue Diamond couldn’t breathe.

In the darkness, she sat on the edge of Pink’s bed and dragged every mouthful of air inwards like it was painful; her chest heaved with the awfulness of it, the punctured horror of leaking lungs.

Her child was dead.

Oh, God.

Her child was gone.

Why, oh, why, oh, God, my God?

And she was never coming back.

Goddammit.

In the coagulated darkness, Blue clutched her daughter’s favorite sweatshirt close to her chest; it was black and ratty, full of holes and little tears. A small alien logo perched on the chest, grinning up at her from depthless eyes.

They used to fight over this particular number.

Constantly.

“You’re a multibillion dollar heiress.” Blue would pinch the bridge of her nose and try not to raise her voice above an acerbic whisper. “Would it inconvenience you to buy some nicer clothes?”

Pink was unsparing in her retorts, wicked and witty, face upturned in a haughtiness to match her mother’s own. 

“Would it inconvenience you to get off my ass, Mother? It’s just a sweatshirt.”

“Pink!”

And on and on. 

The fabric was cold between Blue’s long fingers, still scented with Pink’s favorite perfume.

They were going to bury her today, mere hours from now.

Last week, they’d been fighting over this shirt.

On and on and never again.

The funeral… mere hours from now… less than three… but how could that also be true when it was only 1:52AM and Pink Diamond was coughing her last, strangled breath on a dirty pavement outside a bar on 9th Avenue?

Blue Diamond hadn’t been there, but she forced the words on the detective’s report to come to life in the theatre of her mind’s eye anyway. By the time the paramedics had arrived, Pink was all but gone; she gasped, and she coughed, and her brown eyes marbled in one final supernova of emotion. They tried to resuscitate her, but the damage was too extensive.

She’d fought back, the officer had said. (He thought it was a consolation to them.)

The proof was caked in her nails and scratched all over her arms, but it’d been three against one.

She was a lion, and they were men; she was a twenty-one year old girl, and they were men.

In the darkness, unraveling, Blue Diamond’s face dripped onto the sweatshirt, onto the alien smiling up at her with a black sliver of a mocking grin. She did not register—she did not care to register—the slow creaking of the door opening inwards.

Amber light strained from the hallway to find and reach and touch her but didn’t quite make it. 

Yellow Diamond was a shadowy figure in the doorway.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” she scolded, and yet, she moved into the room anyway—the hypocrite—her sharp heels muffled in the carpet. Stiff and forbidding, she came to stand in front of Blue, arms crossed over her chest, a frown crossed over her face. “It’s not healthy for you, Bl—“

But Blue cut across her. It was not a kind act; it was a precise incision—cold and surgical—three inches long and just as deep. “Our daughter is dead, Yellow.”

The shadowy figure recoiled but did not bite.

Even now, Yellow couldn’t bear to be seen as vulnerable, couldn’t bear to give one damn inch.

“I know that, dammit,” she muttered to the wall. “Dammit—do you not think I know that?”

But Blue had no pity for her, no shred of any emotion left except for the vicious tangle of grief; it tangled in her fingers, which sunk deep into Pink’s shirt, and it tangled in her cold eyes, leaking down her pale face and salting her anemic lips.

“Then act like it,” she hissed.

The exhortation bruised the air.

It demanded a reaction.

On its hands and knees, it begged for a response.

And yet, the shadowy figure said nothing. She didn't move her clenched fists.

She could not face Blue in the eyes.

Coward.

Hypocrite.

(Mourner.)

(Mourning.)

She simply left, staggering out of the room on precariously high heels, and Blue simply stayed, conflating the hours and the days and the minutes.

Later that day, they buried their daughter in a mausoleum, a gazebo—in a cemetery slathered in golden sun.

iii.

Greg explained the details as best as he could on the way up to Steven’s room. It was hard to find him a kidney because his blood type was O negative, which meant that he would only be able to receive a kidney from a Type O donor. And though he’d been on the waiting list for months now, and though he’d recently been moved to the top of the list given his worsening condition, it was still anyone’s guess as to when a kidney would become available.

(“If,” he could barely choke out, “we can even get one at all.”)

After slowly making their way across an expansive skywalk, they finally arrived at a pair of double doors labeled Truman Ward. The sun pierced through the tall glass windows and lit upon Blue’s sunken face, and Greg’s red eyes, and her metallic cane, and his wobbling lips—as though it was doing them a favor by doing so.

Greg reached behind her and pressed a button on the wall, alerting someone on the other side to their arrival.

“Listen”—he ran his hand along the back of his neck as the doors slowly parted open in welcome—“I’m going to go back to the room for a bit and see if I can get some paperwork done. Feel free to stay as long as ya’d like. Visiting hours don’t end ’til eight.”

Blue stared at him. 

Every moment—every hour, minute, and second with this child was precious nowadays, and here Greg was, lending her time out of his own.

She felt the gift of what he was offering deeply.

(She could have never found it in herself to be so generous with Pink.)

“Thank you.” She swept a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I… I appreciate you allowing me to visit him.”

But he only shook his head and urged her through the doors with a pinched smile.

“If he’s happy that you’re here,” he shrugged, “then I am, too.”

And with that, he waved a last goodbye, and the doors folded to a close again with her on the other side of them.

Room 11037.

Walking became a monumental task as the clinically white hallway stretched out before her, lengthened by her mind, twisted and contorted into an obstacle she had to surmount.

It should have been just a hall.

Clank.

The memory of Pink burned bright behind her eyelids, stained there permanently by principle but stamped in starkly with assistance from the harsh fluorescents overhead. She was laughing, always laughing, in these flashbulb reminiscences, her freckles coalescing and then expanding across the bridge of her nose like the bellows of an accordion.

Clank.

But it wasn’t just Pink, though it always would be.

Clank.

It was Steven now.

Clank.

A ghost she chased, as opposed to the one who perpetually haunted her (who mercifully, who cruelly stayed.)

Clank.

But he wasn’t a ghost just yet, right? He was still here and still fighting—did that not count for something? Didn't his heartbeat, the very state of its continued existence, teach her to hope?

Clank.

But hope was such an awful word—so empty, brimming with meaningless sensationalism.

Clank.

(Maybe it was the vestiges of her long dead religion, but she wanted to hope anyway.)

Clank.

Hope was such an awful word.

Clank.

Room 11037. 

The door was decisively closed. 

A tall woman with bicolored eyes leaned against it, her dark lips corkscrewed into a frown.

Blue Diamond vaguely remembered her from the cemetery but couldn’t quite place a name. She could place an expression, though, and was surprised to name the one on this stranger’s face as disdain. Disdain rolled off this mysterious woman in waves, from the resolute clench of her jaw to the iron way that her arms were folded across her chest. It burned in her eyes. It seemed to languish inside of her, seething just under a facade of smooth skin.

She was a monolith of quiet loathing.

Blue squared her rounded shoulders in a manner she thought to be composed; her hands trembled on her cane nonetheless.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” She asked it quite politely, even as the walls were harsh and white around them. She used to command rooms by the authoritative nature of her voice alone, and now she struggled to keep it together long enough to face a singular woman in front of a singular door.

“It’s not you specifically,” the woman replied, impressively put together, admirably composed. If her electric blue eye was cold, the brown one simply burned. Both were bruised underneath with tired shadows. “It’s what you stand for. It’s about the morals that Diamond Electric doesn’t have.”

“You’re an activist,” Blue surmised quickly, almost flippantly. Activists were challenging DE all of the time, and activists were always losing. Before Pink… she’d largely assumed that these sorts of protesters simply had no logical case. After Pink, she had had much more consuming thoughts on her mind than petty lawsuits against their multibillion dollar company.

“A Crystal Gem,” she corrected tersely, “but that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” Her gaze slid subtly to the doorway behind her, and Blue understood her at once.

“Steven,” she whispered.

The woman nodded.

“Steven,” she agreed, and her voice cracked as she said it, splintering into thousands of little pieces and struggling to regroup. When she swallowed to compose herself, it was almost as though she was swallowing the shards. “He likes you, and I can’t… I won’t begrudge him that.”

In the way that she said it, it was almost like she was convincing herself most of all.

“There is an implicit but there,” Blue parried softly. “You won’t begrudge him that, but.”

Again, the woman nodded, the gesture slow and measured, as though she was working something out in the tiny motion. When her squared chin came up again, her mismatched eyes were bright, intense with quiet pain.

“But don’t hurt him.”

It was a reasonable demand, but the implication behind it stung immediately and anyway.

She inhaled sharply and scrambled to defend herself, to salvage the punctured wound, but the damage was already done. Her voice came out more broken than it did cold.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Maybe not intentionally,” the Crystal Gem said, shaking her head. “Most people never really intend to hurt someone… but it happens. We get caught up in our emotions. We get selfish. We get distant. And then we hurt people.”

It struck Blue Diamond at that very moment that she hadn’t even deigned to ask the woman’s name.

“So, all I’m saying is don’t hurt him.” She unfolded herself from the door and stepped aside. “He likes you.”

iv.

Two days after the first anniversary of Pink Diamond’s death, a doctor shined a light in Blue Diamond’s glassy eyes and waited for a pupillary response. When he received one—an involuntary but nonetheless reactive blink—he unceremoniously clicked off his pen light and straightened up into the unfriendly darkness once more.

In the sparse incandescence bleeding in from the hallway, Yellow Diamond cut a shadowy figure by his side, her usually tidy hair rumpled from all the times her fingers had become ensnared in it that day.

Her tie was loose, and lines had already begun to etch themselves beneath those hawklike eyes of hers.

Soon, they would become permanent fixtures, marked there by time and age and grief.

For now, though, they were only suggestions.

Hints of what was to come.

(So many sleepless nights.)

(How many haunted days?)

“Well?” Though the CEO tried hard to strangle her voice into a whisper, the sharpness of the syllable was still the loudest sound in the room. Subtlety had never quite been this woman’s strong suit; she wielded her words as though they were gavels to proclaim on the heads of all who dared to cross her path.

“Catatonic depression,” the doctor replied, just as succinctly, replacing his pen in the pocket of his lab coat. “The staring, the lack of movement, the loss of appetite, the elective mutism. All textbook symptoms that point to the fact that your wife is still grieving, Mrs. Diamond. Frankly, I’m worried for her health.”

The shadow on his left scowled at this diagnosis, and she fidgeted, and it was apparent by these two idiosyncrasies alone that she was scrounging deep for some incisive rebuttal against the truth that laid like a breathing corpse directly below her. 

“Then what, pray tell, do you intend to do about it?” Her voice exceeded its former intentions of quietness. “That’s the problem. Now what’s the solution?”

“Well, I admit her to the hospital and start her on an intravenous Lorazepam treatment. It’s a sedative. It’ll assuage some of her anxiety and relax her muscles to prevent spasming.”

“Yes, and then?”

They were talking about her as though she wasn’t even there.

It was a fair enough assessment.

“And then what, Mrs. Diamond?” The doctor stared at her incredulously, shoving both of his hands in his pockets. “With all due respect, I can treat your wife’s physical symptoms from sunup to sundown, but that’s not touching the heart of what is truly debilitating her. She’s grieving, ma’am, and she needs psychiatric treatment beyond what I can provide as a private doctor and you can provide as her spouse. We discussed this the last time I was here.”

“And the time before that—yes, I know,” Yellow Diamond laughed humorlessly, the sound half-mad in her constricted throat. “Because you stand there, like an imbecile, and tell me that there’s no underlying medical cause to this?!”

She jabbed an accusing hand at Blue Diamond, whose oceanic eyes were wide open and unseeing, silent tears slipping from the corners of them and falling sideways across her face. There was an untouched tray of food on her nightstand. There was a lankness in her unwashed hair. There were pill bottles accumulating like a grotesque collection next to the alarm clock.  

And there was an air, an atmosphere, an oppression of silent decay.

The funereality of it was undeniable.

An uncomfortable wooden chair stood next to the bed where Yellow Diamond had been sitting vigil for the past two nights since they had visited the cemetery on the day of the anniversary. 

Blue Diamond’s keening sobs had sliced the autumnal air.

Her daughter was dead.

Gone.

Never coming back.

She stared at nothing, it seemed to Yellow and the doctor; she languished in the visions of Pink that seized across her mind with every dripping second of consciousness. 

“Depression is an underlying medical cause, Mrs. Diamond.” 

The doctor’s voice softened. 

Minimally.

For the first time since the house call had begun, his lanky silhouette jerked a little, as though he wanted to place a hand on the CEO’s shoulder, but thought better of it upon seeing something forbidding in the other’s expression.

“And she’s tired, ma’am. You both are.” Look at you, his rust colored eyes seemed to say. You’re both historical wrecks to a long dead ghost. “You can’t take care of her alone…  moreover, you shouldn’t have to.”

But the doctor had finally overstepped one prying comment too far, and he must have known it immediately, because he took a step back from the golden eyes glowering at him in the darkness of that dusty bedroom.

Yellow Diamond’s entire face transformed, twisting itself into facets of shattered rage.

She was feral.

(Wounded.)

Apoplectic with fury.

(Grieving, she was inconsolable.)

Dangerous.

Goddammit, she was on fire.

“Do not ever deign to tell me what I can and can’t do when it comes to my wife,” she snarled, all pretense of quietness long gone, devoured in the hurricane of emotion. “Get out! OUT!”

“Mrs. Diamond, please—“

“I SAID OUT! OUT!” She shrieked, harshly shoving his shoulder with the flats of her palms. “GET THE HELL OUT!”

The doctor did not need telling again; he fled the room as the force of Yellow Diamond’s dismissal stoned his back.

Blue blinked slowly as a shaking hand suddenly clasped her arm in the wake of the carnage, the imprint of a steel wedding band carving itself into her flesh.

That hurts, Yellow.

She blinked again, the words swelling on her tongue and dying there unrestfully.

That hurts.

v.

The warnings of Steven’s guardian standing sentinel on top of her frantically beating heart, Blue Diamond turned the knob to Room 11037 and pushed inwards until the door reluctantly gave way to a sight she had forgotten to steel herself for in-between the guilt of moving on and the agonizing action of doing so.

Steven himself.

Dwarfed in a hospital bed.

A mere wisp of the boy who had sat with her on the balcony only three days ago and stuffed his face with little chocolate cakes.

Her prodigious mind working far ahead of her paralyzed body, she frantically tried to recall his text from yesterday, what it had said about his condition, if it had indicated anything about his current state at all. But he had only told her that he had passed out and ended up in the hospital again. The boy had said nothing about the extensive tubing and the wires that ribboned and scissored his entire body in streaming colors. Lines crisscrossed each other and tumbled over and under and around his blankets. 

She saw the bottom of an empty catheter bag at the edge of the bed.

And the bruises like angry embers pulsing up his arms.

Somehow, amongst all the other things she was absorbing at precisely the same time, she noticed that next to a vase of elegantly arranged sunflowers, there was an inelegantly arranged tray of hospital food.

Untouched.

He had texted not a word about the yellow pallor of his skin.

He had used exclamation points—exclamation points!—to indicate his excitement.

Blue Diamond could not shake the notion, the very absurd idea, that he had lied to her somehow, had drawn her here under false pretenses.

(This was not the truth. She had estimated at what she was getting herself into and crossed the line into getting herself into it anyway.)

“Hi,” Steven Universe said sheepishly, his cheeks flushing darkly. He was caught, and he knew it. “It’s good to see you again, Blue.”

The seconds dripped between them.

The heart monitor on the wall counted them out.

One…

Blue’s plump lips parted slightly.

Two…

Her hand shivered on the head of her cane until the sound of it rattled the clinically quiet room.

Three…

She couldn’t do this again.

She wouldn’t grieve for another dead child.

One had been too much—one had almost killed her. 

Four…

God, and there were still days where she wondered if it still would.

Without thinking, desperate for relief, Blue turned away and braced her free hand on the door, drawing in harsh, ragged breaths that scratched at her beaten lungs, that bled them anew until they were leaking.

Who was she to believe that she wasn’t falling apart at her seams? How delusional was she to hope that a boy with a flower would be the difference between her saving grace and her inevitable dissolution? Was she so naïve to overlook the contours of his illness and think that his determination would be enough to save him from the eternal truth of this world? Was she so weak?

Death didn't discriminate between the old and the young, the sinner and the saint.

Pink Diamond was only twenty-one years old.

Steven Universe was a child.

“Blue!” Steven pleaded. “Wait, please don’t go. I—”

“I cannot look at you, Steven Universe," she cut across him, her voice low and fractured. Hot tears stood in her eyes, suddenly blurring her hand against the smooth door. “I’m sorry, but I cannot bear to see…”

“Can’t bear to see that I’m dying?”

He didn’t just refuse to mince the word; he stabbed it into her back so remorselessly that she gasped sharply. She glanced down at her chest and half-expected to see it lodged there, poking out, her beating heart speared on its tip.

“People can skirt around the word all they want,” Steven laughed bitterly, “but there’s no other word for it… without a kidney, I’m gonna die soon, Blue Diamond. I’m dying right now. I think I’ve been dying all this time. And everyone… all they wanna do… is look away from me. Pearl, Garnet, my dad…”

He sniffed.

“They keep looking away, and I’m so tired of it… I-I’m exhausted.”

The door felt cold against her palm.

Icy.

On the balcony, two days ago, she accused Yellow Diamond of shoving their daughter away in a drawer with the rest of her useless items.

In an arctic hospital room, Blue Diamond was ready to consign a boy to the same grave her daughter was buried in… 

… but dead children couldn’t talk.

Dead children couldn’t be tired.

They were simply dead.

“So, please, Blue Diamond… please don’t look away.”

The seconds dripped between them.

The heart monitor on the wall counted them out.

One…

Her eyes were wide with the horror of everything, of it all, the senselessness, the depravity, the nihilistic revolutions of this awful, uncaring world.

“I had a daughter once,” she whispered to the door. “Her name was Pink Diamond, and she was… she is… my everything. She had a smile wider than this planet could ever hope to contain… and she very much liked to laugh.”

She had never talked about Pink to anyone other than Yellow before.

Even evoking her name felt like blasphemy.

Two…

A second passed, and no lightning fell from the sky to strike her dead; she supposed her own self-flagellation was the punishment and the eternal damnation alike.

“I looked away. Yellow and I both did. She wanted more from life, and we wanted to contain her life into… into a little box that could fit on the shelf with all our other trophies. She was our accomplishment, you see, our legacy.”

Three…

Blue Diamond’s hand fell away from the door, so she could bring it up to her mouth in a futile attempt to dam the sobs that racked her shoulders.

Four…

“We looked away. The night that she… she—” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word aloud. She wasn’t brave like Steven. “We thought she was in her room, and I didn’t tell her that I loved her that night because we had argued… I thought I’d get the chance the next day or the day after that because we argued all the time. It was normal for us.”

On and on and never again.

When was the last time Blue Diamond had said those three words to her daughter?

These past four years, she had scoured her brain for the answer, but the answer was as elusive as the phrase was from her mouth.

For the simple truth of the matter was that she hadn’t said it very often.

In all her vast intellect, she had always assumed that it was assumed.

Implied.

Understood.

You’ll never let me grow up, will you?

I love you, she could have said.

You’ll never let me grow up, will you?

I didn’t want you to, she would have replied then. I wanted you to collect dust with all the rest of our awards and certificates. I wanted you safe, where I could see you. I wanted to quantify the entirety of your life and itemize the particulars. I wanted you to always be mine.

I love you.

I looked away.

An oxymoron.

A tragedy.

Five…

“So if I look at you, Steven Universe,” she murmured, screwing her eyes closed tightly against the pain, “really look at you, then I have to face that truth again—that I loved someone once… and I looked away… and now she’s… gone.”

And that was the immutable truth of the matter, the conclusion she circled around to no matter how many times the Earth continued to revolve away from the day since Pink Diamond had last existed on this world.

Four thousand revolutions later, and this would still be what it came down to in the end.

Her daughter’s blood was on her hands, staining them crimson, veining her lifelines with the guilt and the awfulness and the unbearable, crucifying shame.

And her daughter’s blood cried out, You’ll never let me grow up, will you?

And every time she so much as looked at her own palms, that was the only echo she saw written across their hollows.

Those last words.

Unanswered.

Unfinished.

Undoing and undone.

Six…

“But… I’m not gone yet,” Steven argued softly. His voice fought to be heard over all the machinery keeping him alive. “I’m here.”

He must have moved because blankets shifted somewhere behind her.

Dead children didn’t move.

Dead children weren’t here.

They were simply—

Seven…

Eight…

Nine…

Ten…

Do it, she commanded herself.

Look at him.

But Blue Diamond was frozen, and she was statuesque; she was a calcification barely anchored on the foundation of her cane. One false move and she would crumble entirely. 

The safest bet on her own survival was to limp away and dare not look behind her lest she turn to salt and dust. 

Someone else could clean up the carnage.

That woman who stood at the door—she’d do it—Greg Universe and the boy’s other guardians, too.

Don’t hurt him, that same woman had also said. He likes you.

Eleven…

Twelve…

Thirteen...

vi.

It was wash day. 

For nearly a year and half after Pink Diamond died, Yellow would force Blue out of bed every few days for a bath or a shower—usually a shower because it was becoming increasingly hard for the CEO to lift her wife in and out of the tub.

Today was a tub sort of occasion, though.

Date night with the Diamonds.

The presence of death was always with them, though, an intrusive third wheel.

With a slight groan, Yellow lowered herself into the warm water behind Blue, steam rising around their naked skin like curling smoke. Once upon a time, this used to be a favorite pastime of theirs, a chance to reacquaint themselves with each other and their bodies… but now the gesture was simply hygienic in purpose, asexual and quiet.

It was always quiet in the Diamonds’ penthouse suite these days.

Silent.

“Is it too hot?” Yellow asked, her voice as gentle as she could wrangle it. Somehow, at the same time, it was still edged with the trappings of harshness. “I can add some cold water?"

She waited briefly for a reply that would never come.

Blue stared limply at her knees, pulled up awkwardly as they were to her chest. Her sensitive skin had already reddened in a couple of places where it was touching the water. There were pink fingerprints wrapped around her armpits where she’d been handled into the tub. 

“I think it’s too hot. You’re getting a rash.” A well-manicured hand flashed out from behind her ear and knobbed the far left tap. There was a quick murmur and then the steady hiss of cold water.

“There,” she humphed satisfactorily. “This’ll feel better.”

The running stream answered its assent.

Blue Diamond did not say a word.

She hadn’t in days now, maybe even weeks; time was irrelevant to her, and the words would not come. 

There was only a dullness in her head, numb and numbing, like an icy compress coiled tightly around her thoughts.

Yellow didn’t think so, but this was better than the alternative; this was the far superior solution to the problem, the pain, and the pervasiveness of the ghost who was their daughter Pink Diamond.

Because when the analgesic of her own catatonia faded, and some of the feeling tried to seep through, her chest would unfailingly tighten, a vice squeezing hard upon her weary heart.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her child was dead.

“I…” 

The sound came from behind her, guttural and choked, as though the speaker was fighting hard against the noise and losing the war.

“I’m so tired, Blue.” 

It was an admission, and it was a copout.

Both of them knew that Blue Diamond wasn’t registering a single word.

She heard them—yes, this was true.

But they came to her—they landed softly—like distant echoes; she did not feel the pain of them, the visceral agony; at the present moment, she did not even feel her own pain, the grief and the scalding water and the grief.

Because it was always the grief she was trying to repress.

Everything else was just ancillary.

“You don’t know, goddammit, you can’t know, how exhausted I am.” Yellow Diamond’s voice shattered in the tub.

And her entire body hitched.

As though to keep that from breaking, too.

“You exhaust me, Blue Diamond. You exhaust me every single day. And you don’t even know it, goddammit. Who are you? What the hell have you become?”

The question was delivered to her backside, where it slipped down her tall, curving spine and into the water, splashing there with the delivery of the tap. With a violence that was almost cruel, Yellow reached from behind her again and flung it back into an off position.

There was quietness then.

It was so still, that it was disquiet.

It was always quiet in the Diamonds’ penthouse suite these days.

Silent.

Blue continued to stare blankly at her knees.

There were red patches on her skin.

Her child was dead.

After a moment’s hesitation, her breath heavy on the back of Blue’s long, slender neck, Yellow Diamond gathered her silvery hair gently in one hand and grabbed the comb on the side of the tub with another.

She was careful as she maneuvered its teeth through damp, lank strands.

She always was.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Blue.”

That was what Blue Diamond’s note would say merely a few months later.

I’m sorry and I’m sorry and I’m sorry.

Love always, Blue.

But that was the crucial thing, wasn’t it?

Sorry was not enough; love was not enough.

Because if love had been enough, Pink Diamond would still be alive. 

vii. 

In a hospital room pierced through with golden sun, Blue Diamond turned around and faced the light of day, her heavy braid swinging along with the slow, deliberate motion. 

She wasn’t looking away, Steven Universe.

She was staring straight at him—at his sunken face and his tubing and at the catheter bag and at the sunflowers.

The boy was dying, but he was not yet dead.

It wasn’t much.

At the very least, though, it was something.

He was not gone, even if he was going.

He was here.

In this moment, in this very ephemeral second.

The heart monitor on the wall attested to that; it counted his heartbeats; it pleaded with her to have hope.

(Hope was such an awful word.)

“Those are beautiful flowers,” she whispered. Her cane clinked against the tiled floor as she carefully drew closer to observe them better.

Their petals were tall and spiky, assaulting the air with attentiveness and regal magnitude.

They vaguely reminded her of Yellow.

With a light finger, she tried to prop up one that was beginning to droop beneath the weight of all its brethren, but the moment she withdrew her touch, it fell again, sighing listlessly. 

Poor thing.

“But not quite as pretty as that hibiscus you bequeathed me.”

Steven’s eyes, edged with the trace remnant of his tears, were wide and dark, full of velvet and silvery stars.

“You don’t still have it, do you?” He asked, incredulous and rather pleased.

He played a little with his hands on top of his blankets. 

He tried to tamp down his hope for an affirmative with an unconvincing casualness.

Blue Diamond’s smile bruised her lips.

“I placed it on my nightstand, sweet boy, so I could look at it everyday.”

It took a second, but the irony of that word choice was not lost on either of them.

viii. 

Yellow Diamond placed the failed suicide note on her nightstand for Blue to see and know that she saw. They didn’t talk about it afterwards.

How could they?

What was there to say?

It remained there for a few days afterwards, shriveled and guilty-looking next to the alarm clock; every time she opened her eyes, she would see it and feel its quiet condemnation. She would close her eyes against its glare and wait for sleep or numbness one to wrestle her into the dark. 

One day, she woke up, and the paper was gone again. 

The realization drew a frown across her wrinkled face.

When she thought about getting up to search for it, and mustered the appropriate will to get out of bed, apparently, many days had passed in the interim.

A month.

She only recognized this upon surveying her bathroom on her way to the toilet; she couldn't find her shaving razor anywhere.

One night—the day, the month, the year undetermined in the abscessed haze of her mind—a dull ache throbbed through Blue’s hip, growing in intensity and sharpness with each passing second that she laid on the wounded area.

There was a part of her, not entirely inconsequential, that invited the pain. For after all, suffering was the only victory the woman had left in the entire world; she wrestled with it nightly, and she embraced it. She made it her new lover and exchanged an oath that only death would do them part. She didn’t shoot herself, or cut herself, or swallow a handful of pills that would surely do the trick.

She laid on her bad hip and convinced herself that she deserved it.

But that night—whatever night that it was—the agony was unbearable, pulling at her all over.

With a groan that wasn’t voluntary, Blue wrested herself into some semblance of a sitting position and looked for her phone so that she could call Livia for an ice pack, but it wasn’t on the bedside table as it usually was… and since it wasn’t in its usual position, she had no clue where she had last left it.

If she wanted relief, she would have to brave the kitchen herself.

She wanted relief, and the guilt of it half-immobilized her.

So she sat there for a couple more minutes still and endured the stabbing ache before finally coaxing herself upwards into the dark night of the bedroom. 

Assuming her cane in one hand, Blue crept silently towards the door and out of it, where the hallway stretched out before her like a cavernous tunnel, all the lights extinguished. 

Even the telltale glow of lamp warmth that usually emitted from the study across the hall was gone out, which meant that Yellow had likely succumbed to sleep on the couch within. 

A twinge of something bothered Blue’s sternum at the thought.

She limped forward anyway and all the same, lifting her cane off the floor to keep from making noise; the wall was her guide in its stead, the pads of her long fingers moving along its smooth planes until she reached the end of the archway, where she immediately intuited that she wasn’t alone.

In the moonlight that wept into the living room through the tall windowpanes, Yellow Diamond was a stark figure sitting on the edge of the couch, leached of all her color. Her blonde hair, her silky pajamas, the leathery musculature of her corded neck—all of it was leveled by blinding whiteness.  

Illuminated.

Vulnerable.

Exposed.

When her wife swallowed, she could see every line in her powerful jaw working through the peristaltic motion. 

In the shadowed hallway, Blue Diamond stood still, even though the sharp pain in her hip demanded attention.

For this  moment, this night, this moonlit haunting did not belong to her—even though most of them usually did.

She understood, somewhere in the mire of her own head, that to disturb this scene would be sacrilege. So she watched, and she waited.

Yellow Diamond was holding something between her sharp, angular hands.

With a jolt, she realized that it was Spinel, a stuffed pink cat who had been Pink’s favorite companion once upon a time. Her left ear was still stained from the tea Yellow had once accidentally dripped on it during a princess tea party.

Washed it though they had—several times over—the spot was stubborn; Spinel had been permanently marked.

“S’okay, Momma,” Pink had only said, grinning up at them both from gapped teeth. She had hugged the toy to her chest. The affected ear brushed against the side of her freckled neck. “That just means she’s one of a kind."

Yellow’s fingers were wrapped around the cat’s plush stomach tenderly; she stared at it from depthless, ancient eyes. 

It struck Blue Diamond—then and there—that she wanted something more from this vignette; she wanted Yellow to say something. Selfishly, she desired a confirmation for what she had already so trenchantly inferred.

She wanted, she desired, she longed, she needed to know that her wife was broken, too.

It was a horrible hunger, an itch that felt terrible to scratch.

But Blue Diamond was voracious.

Sometimes, maybe even oftentimes, she could be cruel.

After a long while, though, Yellow Diamond only placed the cat down on the coffee table and stared out into the irradiated night with her hands templed below her sharp chin, lost in silent thought.

She looked older than she ever had in all of their collected years together.

She was only fifty-four.

ix.

They talked—for a long while—as the sun slipped away from the sky, sunset coming in fragments through the slats in the window blinds. 

Blue Diamond held Steven’s hand, the one that didn’t have so many IVs in it, and rubbed smooth circles against his wrist.

“Pearl does that, too,” he smiled at her softly through hooded eyes when she began. “It’s nice.”

They talked about everything, and they talked about nothing.

He told her about his favorite show, which seemed to be about morose breakfast items from what she could vaguely surmise, and he talked to her, very quietly, about his disease.

It was rapidly progressing, far more quickly than his nephrologist had anticipated.

“Those chocolate cakes we shared on your balcony,” he admitted with the air of a child waiting to be scolded, “I may have accidentally puked them up in your toilet. Sorry..."

“It’s of no consequence,” she returned with a small, sad smile.

And this was very well true.

She wasn’t the one who had to clean it after all.

They talked about everything, and they talked about nothing.

Blue told him about the sunrise yesterday, how all the colors had seeped together in a swirl of delicious color, and she talked to him, very quietly, about Pink.

“In the best of possible ways,” she mumbled, the sound caught in the column of her throat, “you remind me of her sometimes. She smiled at everything, even when there wasn’t exactly something to be smiled about.”

“That’s a very pretty way to put it.” Steven wriggled a thumb from beneath her palm to stay it against the side of her hand.

“Yes,” she nodded gently, “I suppose so.”

When it was time for her to leave—a team of nurses had come in to administer Steven’s evening medicines and check his vitals—she pressed a kiss against his forehead.

Very light and very soft.

“You didn’t look away,” he whispered against her cheek as she withdrew. His breath was sickly sweet with disease. “Thank you, Blue.”

She froze, meeting his eyes.

There was hesitancy, and there was consuming grief.

The scribble of guilt.

Scrawled all over her face.

“I wanted to, though,” she breathed. “If we're being technical... if we're being fair... I think the impulse counts against me.”

“But you didn’t.”

Steven’s chapped lips tilted into the beginnings of a smile.

“And that’s what matters, right?”

She brushed a stray curl off of his clammy forehead and thought about Pink and Yellow and all the things she did and didn’t do.

She loved them.

She looked away.

“Yes,” she told Steven Universe. 

Yes.

x.

Alone, Blue Diamond slowly crossed the skywalk, her silvery hair crowned in all the colors of the sunset, a phone pressed against her ear.

Her cane struck the tiled floor with each shuffled step forward.

Clank.

The dial tone droned rhythmically—bzzt and bzzt and bzzt.

Clank.

She felt her heart work its way up her throat, clambering up its fleshy rungs. The immensity of what she was doing transformed her nervous system into a network of beating, pulsing neuroses.

She was ready for this, and she was not.

She could do this; she half-hoped that she wouldn't receive an answer.

Clank.

And then—

“Blue?” Yellow Diamond’s low voice threw its instinctive panic across the line. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Because this was new.

And yet, achingly familiar.

So many years of having not sought Yellow out—all those weeks, days, and months—were well-established patterns that were not easily overturned and undone.

All those collective hurts—hundreds of them, thousands.

Four years of misery sat between them like four hundred thousand miles.

Blue Diamond swallowed thickly, stopping dead in her tracks as the spillage of people continued to swarm all around her like a package freed of its contents: doctors and patients and sundry other visitors. She was the eye of their storm, and yet, she was just another broken person in the midst of so many other broken people. She was separate from them, and yet, she was their intimate kin. The contradiction seemed untenable, unworkable like all the rest.

Her fingers tightened on the head of her cane.

“I’m… I’m fine, Yellow,” she began. “Please don’t worry. I just had to… I wanted to tell you something. Are you busy?”

On the other end of the line, somewhere in a giant, yellow skyscraper at the edge of Empire City, there was the sharp intake of breath.

And the hesitant beginnings of a fearful reply.

It was a start, though.

And that was what mattered, right?

Yes, Blue Diamond thought to herself.

Yes.

[riotatthemovies]

A Karate Christmas Miracle (2019) Ooohhh fuck its a religious movie. It's one of those no budget tax haven Christian movies that knows how uncool talking about god is so it just panders to randomly talk about faith in a vague sense constantly. Single mum Abby and her karate loving son are depressed on their first Christmas since the dad was killed at a theatre by a clown mass shooter. Yeah seriously instead of that being funny they have the gull to allude to the real life Joker theatre shooter, making it kinda dark. I was hoping for a super cheap 3 ninjas rip off where a kid fights criminals to save his dad but sadly the kid barely does anything. Spoiler the kids spends most of his time in bed (in a fake bedroom that's obviously an office) and believes if he learns how to chop a board his badly will magically come back from the dead...which double spoiler.. he kind of does. Most of it is the very cute mom who looks twenty, alluding she was 10 when her son was born, and the looking very rough 80s model and Kurt Cameron friend Julie McCullough talking about where their husbands bodies went after the mass shooting and how society today is pits. Seriously this is Cool Cat saves the kids level pandering with out a fun mascot costume to cheer things up. I was reading an article made by the producer who plays the dead dad and is the real life dad of the kid. He seems as fake as hell. He's a lawyer turn low budget film promotor, so it explains its self. Also the movie boasts actors Eric Roberts and that bad guy from Karate Kid who of course do all their scenes on screens, in dream sequences and on the phone. So they probably emailed in their scenes or over cameo , oh the future of film. I saw a photo of Martin Kove at a cast wrap party which makes me laugh since that means free food and drink was worth more to him then what they paid him to act. I swear to never tell anyone to not watch a film but wow their is a lot of nothing here, not even to laugh at. There is a sequel called Wrestling Christmas miracle but I think Ill watch 3 Ninjas kick back instead. Oh my god the sequel is directed by a guy called Chris T Anthony...Christianity...oi vai.