#depression leads a woman in mysterious places

[vanillapervert]

the only good part of RiD(2015) honestly i wish there was ANY art of him in this getup

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Battle for 3rd place

Propaganda under the cut

The Xenomorph

To cause general fuckery. To impregnate people to death. Impervious to most means of harm, she slays the day away by toying with her prey and murdering anyone who stands in her way.

Ianthe Tridentarius

She is trying so hard to be the main character by lying and manipulating her sister, her cavalier, her mentor, her ?love interests? (Spoiler???) And also god. Not sure how it's working out for her but she does love to lie and manipulate

Worstie Ianthe is the DEFINITION of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. She is one of a set of necromancer twins that are the heirs to their houses rule. Except wait, only she is a necromancer and she has spent their entire lives doing necromancy for the both of them. She is constantly mean to their cavalier, Naberius, who she occasionally nibbles on like a chew toy, before eventually killing and eating him to ascend to sainthood. She goes to gods spaceship with another woman who ascended to sainthood who she has a crush on, this other woman is like…. Both incredibly mentally unwell and also haunted by at least 211 ghosts. Ianthes method of flirting with her? Gaslighting her about the corpse that keeps moving around and hiding under her bed. For no real reason tbh. She is clearly plotting to overthrow god, and at the moment that consists of her manipulating him while he’s too sad about his long term partners betraying him and subsequently exploding to really care. She dresses in terrible outfits and makes soup by burning onions to the bottom of a pot, putting meat in and some vegetables and then it doesn’t taste like anything so she puts in a few teaspoons of salt so it tastes like a few teaspoons of salt. She had her crush amputate her arm and regrow her a new one out of bone and it’s one of the horniest things I’ve read in my life.

"Gaslight = told her lobotomized (she helped), schizophrenic girlobsession that there was no corpse under their bed, even tho there totally was. Gatekeep = girl did NOT share the secret to god-like ascension. She kept that shit to herself until it was time to eat her boytoy, and by then everyone knew already. Girlboss = she has a non-necromancer twin sister, and literally Everyone thinks they r both necromancers because Ianthe is so good at it. She reverse engineered ascending to the aforementioned ascension without even completing any of the supplementary tasks. She held her own in a fight against a 10k year old lyctor. She becomes the figurehead of her entire empire. "

She uses a man as a chewtoy in the first book, literally gaslights the protagonist of the second book about a corpse, and elder-abuses God when he gets depressed in the third book. Nobody is doing it like her.

Dives headfirst with no regrets while basically laughing and covered in blood into murdering her cavalier once she realizes what the gothic locked room mystery/competition leads to while everyone else is questioning it, helps perform lobotomy on harrow so she doesn't remember the person she loves, manipulates everyone to get to the top

idk just everything about her

her relationship with her sister is incredibly Bad, she fosters codependency and views Corona(the sister) as an extension of herself. This does not stop her from keeping up the con that Corona actually has magic (She doesn't, it was always just Ianthe) for 22ish years and every single person who interacts with them falls for it. She killed a man against his will (most dying for this purpose specifically go willingly) and she consumed him and she will be burning his soul for eternity. She's completely repulsive and still somehow incredibly hot.

she takes advantage of the fact that the main character is prone to hallucinations. at one point she gaslights the mc into believing that the corpse under her bed isn't real just because she can. she reverse engineered a set of very complex trials on her own without anyone realizing she had the skills to complete them normally. she's also babysat god through his drunk and pathetic era.

Artist: @may12324

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Tempus Fugit (4x17)

The Headless Woman’s Pub was crowded wall-to-wall with red-faced employees of the Federal Government who had traveled the measly few blocks after work— despite the fact that it was a Sunday. As far as Val could tell, these people never took a day off.

Before getting this gig, he always imagined the feds drank like they were in one of those film noirs, pulling a handle of whiskey out of their desk and mulling over it after a hard case. He thought being an FBI Agent must’ve been so cool and mysterious.

“Oh shit!” a voice slurred from the other side of the room.

Val glanced over and saw that kid from the Violent Crimes Unit wiping spilled beer off of his date’s lap.

After getting this gig, he realized everything he used to think about the feds was bullshit. 

These were some of the most depressed fuckers he’d ever met. The ones that got the job for the glory would inevitably crash and burn, and the good ones would be haunted by the evils they saw. He couldn’t blame any of them for needing to indulge at the end of the day, but, Christ— J. Edgar himself would blush at the things these people said when they were drunk. He was starting to wonder if there was a single desk in that building that hadn’t been defiled. Though that was nothing compared to the guy who drank himself under the table because the ‘alien-guy’ stole his job. Val still didn’t know what the hell that meant, but he could still hear the way that guy kept muttering “fucking grey.”

“Excuse me.”

Glancing up, he saw a tall guy easing himself in between two people sitting at the bar. “Do you have a tab started?” Val asked.

“No, uh, I actually had a favor to ask,” the man clarified while his hands fidgeted against the bar’s wooden ledge.

Glancing around and seeing everyone’s drinks were full, Val stopped what he was doing and replied, “Shoot.”

Lanky started fumbling around with the pocket of his suit coat, and he began to worry the guy was gonna pull out his badge. They were too damn short-staffed to spare anyone for a twenty-minute interrogation about some drunk guy making a fool of himself after having one too many.

But agitation quickly made way for confusion when he was presented with one of those pink Hostess monstrosities. Ho Ho? Zapper? Chocodile Kazbars? Whatever the hell it was called, it should be illegal to put coconut in anything that was supposed to be called a dessert.

“I’m on a diet,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his comment, the man tried to fluff the pink ball back into shape after presumably squashing in his pocket. “The woman I came in with— it’s her birthday, and she loves these things. I was wondering if there was any way you could ask someone in the back to put it on a plate and bring it out to her?”

Now that was a new one, especially for a shithole like this place. “Ya mean like Chili’s?”

“Well, hey, I certainly won’t say no if you have any sombreros hidden away in the kitchen,” he chuckled, looking over his shoulder as if to make sure his date wasn’t getting suspicious. Then, as if nervous Val would say no, he added, “They don’t have to sing Happy Birthday or anything. I know you guys are busy and—”

Interrupting the man’s rambling, he grabbed the pink cream ball. “What’s her name?”

“Scully.”

Val’s eyebrows rose at that. “She related to Vin? I was more of a Jerry Doggett fan myself.”

The guy exhaled a laugh, but then he shook his head. “No, and sorry, actually.” He spared another glance over his shoulder, and this time Val looked with him. It must’ve been the redhead who was glancing around, presumably searching for her boyfriend. He watched the shy smile that spread across her lips as her eyes met the man’s, and damn if she wasn’t one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Her man must’ve known that too based on the nervous smirk that was on his face when he turned back around. “Dana. Her name is Dana,” he clarified, straightening out his tie.

It was common for Val to see men bring women from the office out for a drink in the hopes they’d get some. This might’ve been the first time he’d seen a fella do something thoughtful for his lady. Even if it was a 99¢ piece of garbage. “I’ll pass this to your waiter. I’m sure he can fix it up for Dana.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” Dana’s boyfriend replied. Val watched as he slid a five into the tip jar and started to make his way back to the table.

“Hey buddy,” Val called out, causing the man to turn around. “Ya told her you were going to come up and get drinks, didn’t ya?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed with an embarrassed wince, rushing back to the bar. Across the room, behind the man’s back, the woman’s brows furrowed and her lips quirked into an amused smirk as she watched him fumble to retrieve his wallet. “Thanks. Uh, one water and one vodka tonic, please. It’ll go under the name Mulder.”

After he sent Mulder on his way, he watched him take long strides back to the woman who was digging into their shared appetizer. He must’ve said something funny because the redhead started laughing and shaking her head. Val was impressed with how suave the guy was being after how nervous he had just been.

“D-did that man say his name was Mulder?”

Val turned and saw a meek, blonde woman sitting at the bar, not far from where the man in question had just been.

Val shrugged while trying to flag down a waiter, “Yeah. Know him?”

She glanced at the couple over her shoulder before turning back to face him, nervously playing with the cuff of her sleeve. “He’s a friend of the family.”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton

Happy Birthday Dana Scully!

[mermaidsirennikita]

hiya, do you have any recs that mostly takes place during a countryside house party?? like what i did for a duke and the viscount who loved me and etc. No real plot, just a couple of dumdums stuck together in a house, falling in love in ~literal~ days lmao

Hmmm

Joanna Shupe's Fifth Avenue Rebels kicks off with a beachside house party in Newport. One of my favorite series of all time—the latter two books take place largely back in New York, but most of The Heiress Hunt (the first book) and a lot of The Lady Gets Lucky (the second) take place at the house party. You have some overlapping timelines stuff, and of course it all leads up to the final book, The Duke Gets Even, when you learn that there was muuuuuch more to that house party than what was originally thought...

Again, beach instead of countryside, but it's very much the same thing But With Water Shenanigans. Also tennis. Nobody has a job. People hide. It's great.

A lot of Grace Callaway's The Viscount Always Knocks Twice takes place at a house party. This being a Grace Callaway book, there's a mUUUUURDER (which the intrepid heroine decides to solve, while the stern, flustered hero is all "PLEASE. SIT DOWN. SIX FEET AWAY." to no avail) and it's super fun. Like, please know that Grace Callaway murders are not like normal murders. I don't always love a mystery, but she does it in a way that props up the romance, versus the other way around.

Also, this is another one where in a later book (my favorite Grace book) Regarding the Duke, you find out that OTHER STUFF happened at the house party. Namely, Adam Garrity attempting to scheme his way into seducing a woman for power and money, only to play himself as it turns out Oh No, He Loves His Wife.

Infamous by Minerva Spencer largely takes place at a Christmas-adjacent (but Christmas isn't really the point, though people do sled and get snowed in together) country house party. There are actually two romances, and the heroes are twins. The nerdy twin (who is very slutty now, but in a super efficient way) runs into the woman who bullied him back when she was the hottest girl on the block. But NOW she's an old lady's paid companion and has fallen on (very) hard times. And naturally.... it's on. The titled twin has been married to a woman he had to marry due to a compromise situation (which was the aforementioned hot girl's fault) for the past decade. They have a totally quiet, dutiful marriage where they only do it for procreative purposes. Two kids in, they get along fine but it's very distant. Except. He's SUPER in love with her now. And he wants the marriage to be real!!!!

A Rake's Rules for Seduction by Caroline Linden is a house party book. In this case, the hero is best friends with the heroine's brother, and he was about to court her six years ago after realizing his feelings, but then she got engaged to another man. Now she's a depressed widow, and he is a NOTORIOUS rake who everyone talks shit about. But.... the feelings are still there. And things go down. Mostly him.

A Rogue's Rules for Seduction by Eva Leigh is one where they're at a house party except it's on an ISLAND, and this is important because the hero and heroine absolutely don't want to see each other, what with him leaving her at the altar a while ago. But their friends are like "TOO BAD. LOVE IS HAPPENING." and basically they trap 'em on the island. And they're like D:. It's great.

Goddess of the Hunt by Tessa Dare... I can't remember if this is a house party book, exactly? But I feel like it is. Everyone is at a house. It's in the country. The heroine and the hero are stuck in a closet together at some point (this also happens in The Viscount Always Knocks Twice, it's a historical thing). The hero is friends with the heroine's brother, and the brother basically sends him in to distract her, as she's trying to seduce their OTHER friend, who's supposed to marry another woman. Real feelings ensue.

Never Seduce a Duke by Vivienne Lorret has, I believe, a house party situation. The hero and heroine met each other in this very insane situation wherein he thought she was stealing his priceless Arthurian cookbook. Then he chased her across Europe for a minute, and she didn't realize this was like... a thing. THEN. Things Happened. THEN. They got separated and she was unable to reach him. Which was a bit of a problem, as she had a Thing Which He Really Should Have Been Notified Of after the Other Thing Happened. A Special Souvenir, you could say. An Unexpected Eurotrip Consequence. Anyway, he shows up at her brother's country estate for like, a gathering situation (I forget exactly why, but you get me) and everyone is together, and this girl has to cover up the fact that she absolutely had this man's baby, wasn't able to tell him, and now has to deal with his feelings.

It's really funny AND really hot, and I would recommend heartily. I believe Lorret's The Wrong Marquess, which is in the same series but a couple books earlier, also kicks to a house party at some point in the book. I also love this one. The hero initially hates the heroine who he sees as a bad influence on his little sister (who's actually.... the one who gets pregnant on a Eurotrip.... so idk points may have been made there in retrospect) but he later becomes oBSESSED. She's waiting for another man to propose, but during this whole countryside excursion, he makes his argument for banging known.

Oh. OBVIOUSLY, the first two Wallflowers books take place in large part at Westcliff's big country estate and various house party shenanigans occur. In Secrets of a Summer Night, Operation Trap a Man takes place there, with Annabelle accidentally trapping Simon. And in It Happened One Autumn, Westcliff is all "all of my friends and also that annoying girl Lillian who I want to impregnate should visit my house!!!! Even my broke slutty friend Sebastian!!!!"

[wagingmywarsbehindmyface]

hiiiii I heard about your essay writing skills

I have this friend who has a huge crush on Jakub Gierszał, can you write an essay about him?

hiiii 👀 of course, i’m at your service! Jakub Gierszał is an accomplished, talented and I think still a bit underrated polish actor. Due to the fact he spent his childhood in Germany, he is also bilingual which gives him much more job opportunities when it comes to working abroad. He made some projects outside of Poland but still, he built his career there. Quite broad and diverse career in my humble opinion. At the beginning of it he won Shooting Star Award which is prestigious one for promising young actors in Europe. He debuted with film All That I Love in 2008 when he still attended acting classes. However, it was Suicide Room in 2011 which brought him the popularity. He played depressed, entitled, well-off teenager who gets lost in the cyber life. He even dyed his (beautiful blonde! ✨) hair for this role. No wonder why he got two awards and one nomination for it! Later on he starred in a couple of german productions. In the meanwhile he got leading role in Yuma (2012) telling the story of young Zyga who becomes 'Robin Hood’ of his town. In 2014 he got small role in American film Dracula Untold. A project, which seems interesting for me because of the idea behind it, is definitely Lure (Córki Dancingu). It is combination of the fairytale and musical on the basis of polish folklore. I must say that sometimes I still blast the soundtrack from this movie! Overall, 2017 was the year of GIERSZAŁ. He starred in four films and all of them were part of Gdynia Film Festival, let me introduce: Najlepszy (Breaking the limits) - based on the real story of Jerzy Górski, who was addicted to drugs but thanks to sport he fought dark times in his life and won Double Ironman. (Kuba killed it with this role 🤧🤍), next one was Beyond words which takes in the subject of immigration and identity. Spoor is about retired woman who becomes mixed up in a mystery when avid hunters in her mountain village start turning up dead and there are deer tracks next to their bodies. Then there was also film called Zgoda which takes place after the second world war and it is quite tough movie about sacrifice and love. I think Kuba chooses his work really precisely and he needs to be convinced to the project and characters he plays. It was quite chaotic during pandemic, but he even agreed to star in tv series which was quite shocking for me. He had been always denying to take part in tv series because it were films he loved the most. Nevertheless, he played a killer psycho and I was sold, me loves. Recently we could see him in Zadra where he plays a rapper! 👀👀👀 and in Doppelgänger where he plays a spy, the plot takes place in 70s/90s. I’m sorry for being chaotic! I might have omitted something but I said about his most acclaimed projects. I admire Kuba’s energy, he is a modest, kind and adorably shy human being, who doesn’t like attention and he is really private. He just wants to do his job and I admire him a lot. I could listen to him forever, his train of thoughts are always interesting! I think that the future of polish cinema is in good hands. Recommend to look his projects up ✨🤍

[nrdmssgs]

Hozyain

Masterlist

Angst

Characters: Yasha (a young journalist, an OC for this story), Olga Zhar Samoilova (OC from a Heart and Matters), Makarov (no romantic interactions between anyone).

TWs: Descriptions of acts of violence, descriptions of depressive episodes, this is overall really sad.

AN: I had this work in my backlogs since forever. There is no romance there, no good comforting things. This is a little AU, where my girl Zhar is living her worst life, having lost Nikolai. I can't, and I won't write anything comforting for Makarov, as well as I have no intention to fetishize 'bad russian boy'. But I have something to tell about him and about the circumstances that keep producing such people. Since this work is long - Ill keep translations from Russian right after the phrases (like that)

Thanks: @siilvan for being eternally patient and supportive.

Also this is a songfic

"Tell them, I got all the documents, they have asked for!"

"Ona sobrala vse dokumenty..." (She has all the documents...)

"And make sure, they don't forget, this is the fucking sixth time, they change the rules at the very last moment!"

"...ona rasstroena. Budet zhalovatsya nachalstvu..." (...she is not happy with the situation. She might file a complaint with prison superiors...)

Yashas` angry voice contrasts so much with a lifeless mutter of her guide and translator - it sounds almost comical. But these two women are bound by one goal: to get Yasha to the deepest circle of hell. Or maybe it's just Yasha, who believes in it. Because Olga, her guide, remains calm, seemingly not interested in anything outside her mind, dead inside. Olga knows the ways, knows the right words, but it all breaks against the goddamned Kafkaesque wall.

"Olga Borisovna, da ona mozhet hot` v OON zhalovat`sya! Poka hozyain eiye ne propustit - ona ne prohodit!" (Olga Borisovna, she might as well complain to the UN! As long as the mater doesn't approve, she is not coming in!) These words are thrown at Olgas still, unmoving face, but Yasha knows, they are meant for her.

She spent six years learning journalism, then four years learning Russian culture and language. Still, her mentor told her, 'You want to tell that story - you better get ready to become a part of it'. Becoming affiliated with any part of the conflict was the very opposite of what a journalist must do. But she was willing to take the risk, to bury her career long before it actually started. So she learned this twisted language, reformed her mind to match these sick rituals, even got a new name - the name, they would understand and respond to. All for the purpose of speaking to the filthiest, sickest human being out there. All for his captors to turn her away for six times already.

"...poka hozyain ne propustit" or "until the master lets her in"

Yasha knew Russian well enough to understand this. In fact, she spoke this language well enough to lead all the negotiations with the prison personnel by herself. But there was a very important part of Russian culture, that kept her away from that goddamned interview, she needed so bad: the Russians were ready to speak only with their kin. It was a miracle, Yasha found Olga, a mysterious guide, speaking many languages, seeming to be a part of any party out there. At the same time, it was a curse, as Olga seemed to be not interested at all in Yashas mission success. No amount of money, no promises of a better, more comfortable life seemed to change that woman's mood: she was ready to provide only a bare minimum of linguistic support and serve as a temporary host.

She tried everything: persuasion, entreaty, intimidation - nothing helped. Her guide kept repeating 'You either find a way to 'hozyain', or abandon this place and go live your happy calm life', all while emptying yet another glass of wine and looking at the prison wall on the far horizon.

Yasha was exhausted after the sixth round of negotiations with the prison administration. Today was the first evening in the last three months, when she was genuinely happy to get absolutely wasted with Olga, after they returned, to her place.

"To the losers party!" She laughs awkwardly, watching, as Olga places a full glass on the windowsill and goes back to take another one for herself.

"Here is to you never falling in that pit, kid..." Her guide gestures with a full glass to a window, from which Yasha sees a prison every day.

They spend some time in a comfortable silence, enjoying the wine, one would never find in this secluded place in other circumstances. But after a few minutes, Yasha speaks.

"Can I be honest with you? I'm sick and tired of this place, of all you, bowing before that 'hozyain', of this endless and pointless paperwork, of this shithole, that remains gray even in April! I spent three months, trying to meet Makarov, haven't made any progress, but I'm already sick of him too! Maybe, you're right, maybe I should just drop it. Maybe there is no story behind this man - only your collective helplessness and stupidity..."

Olga smiles into her glass, not seeming to protest any of those words. Yasha knows, it's high time, she shuts up, but she is too tired to hold back her anger.

"It looks to me, that you are all happy to just sit on your asses and rot here. You, Makarov, other prisoners, the whole prison staff, that goddamned 'hozyain', whoever he is... You are all just rotting alive, and you hate to be interrupted by me." Yasha takes a tiny sip and goes on. "You think, I didn't find it suspicious, you live in this half-dead village by the prison, have no job whatsoever and yet your fridge is always full and someone even provides you with an alcohol so good, you actually won't find it even in the nearest city? Do you really think i'm that stupid? I see you eating from your masters hands, I see you growing comfortably numb, drowning your sorrow in booze!"

She was ready for Olga to slap her face or drag her out in the cold, snowy night. But nothing, not even these accusations seemed to move anything inside this dead soul. A strange grimace breaks her hosts still face, and she whispers 'You are truly fucked, once you get the feeling, you understand this place and its people, kid. I, too, thought as you once. It was a mistake, that costed me everything. So be better than me - trust nothing you hear and see here'.

They don't talk anymore, not until the next morning, when Yasha wakes up with a heavy head, while Olga shakes her shoulder.

he is barely given time to wash her face and have a sip of water - Olga leads out of the house and on the road to prison barracks.

"Whats going on! Olga, please, slow down! I can't run through all these snowdrifts and gullies!"

Her guide remains deaf to her pleas. When they reach the familiar prison checkpoint - Yasha is a breathless mess, her head is killing her and a stink of wet tiled floor, washed with some cheap chlorine makes her stomach twist.

Olga throws a few words in the little window and the gates, Yasha was trying to get through for the past three months, open.

"Trust nothing you hear" - so that included Olgas words as well? She's been wasting Yashas time for months, when she could just... open this fucking door just like that?

She clenches jaw and avoids her guide's gaze, because all Yasha wants for now is to spit right into this lifeless face, yell at her, throw hands. So much time wasted for nothing. They are both get checked on three different gates. Every time the guards search every centimeter of their clothes, touch, slap, run their fingers through all the layers of textile. By the time they left alone in a small visiting room - Yasha already have no fury left for that woman. She just wants a minute of silence, without anyone shouting around and commanding them. Yasha sinks into dusty sofa cushions and closes her eyes, while Olga stands in the corner of the room above the radiator.

Heavy footsteps echo in the corridors outside the room. In other circumstances she would freak out and scream internally because for the first time in her life, she came on the interview entirely unprepared: no voice recorder, no notes, not even a piece of paper and a pencil. But now all that bothers Yasha is her terrible headache. Maybe its even better this way, she thinks to herself.

When the door opens it feels like all the oxygen is suddenly sucked out of the visiting room. One gaze, one single gaze lingering on her face for a few seconds is enough for her to forget about the hangover, the rage, the resentment. One can not possibly contain this much hate and menace just in their eyes. But then again - this is no ordinary man. Yashas mouth runs dry, she can barely breathe, so when this man proceeds to Olga and grabs her by the collar, Yasha manages only to half whisper half hiss 'hey!'.

"Ya tebya kogda zval? Skol`ko mesyatzev nazad?" (When did I call you here? How many months ago?) He doesn't pay the slightest piece of attention to Yashas attempt to draw his attention from Olga.

But her guide seems unbothered by this man's hand, dragging her collar back, causing her to suffocate. Olga closes her eyes, leans slightly to the wall and answers 'Otoidi, Makarov, i bez tebya toshno...' (Step away, Makarov, I feel bad enough even without your help). The way these two interact is very unsettling. No rivalry as well as no warmth in their voices - just tiredness and irritation, as if they wish to part their ways, but can't for some reason. Yasha can't understand, if the man is trying to hurt her guide, as he tightens his grip, or he is trying to check on something, as his other hand slips under her collar in one swift motion and squeezes something on Olgas back, making her frown in pain.

"Govoril tebe lechitsya? Ya k doktoram tebya skol`ko raz vyzyval?!" (Did I tell you to get a proper treatment? How many times have I called you to the doctors?!) His voice is low and angry, like a deep rumble of some forest beast.

When he slams Olgas head against the wall, Yasha jumps from the sofa, not being able to witness any second more. She shouts for guards to come and help, and that finally breaks the man's concentration. Two guards really appear in the room almost immediately, but they freeze on the threshold the very next moment, they see, who is holding Olga, while she tries to wipe her bleeding nose with shaking hands.

"And what do you think, they should do?" The man turns to face journalist, and his gaze seems burning right through her. "Chain me up? Set this piece of shit free? Maybe beat me?"

Yasha feels her hands turning cold. She takes a step back, shooting a desperate gaze at the guards, but they still don't move. "Please," she whispers.

An amused smile appears on the mans face. "Watch," he say and turns back to the guards.

"Oruzhie" (Guns) After this command both guards take out their guns, and approach him and holding it out.

"Na stol." (On the table) He waits till both guns are on the table and lets go of Olgas collar. She slides down the wall, gasping for air.

"Etu v lazaret. Nas ne bespokoit`. Stvoly zaberete cherez chas." (Take this one to the med bay. Don't bother us. You will get your guns back in an hour)

Yasha can't believe her eyes: prison guards follow his commands as if he was their superior - not the most dangerous prisoner. They help Olga up and guide her out of the room, leaving her alone with the man, who murdered and tortured hundreds, if not more. And just as if it wasn't enough - they leave their guns to him. For three months Yasha believed, there is this village, where the prison personnel lives, then there is the prison itself and above this all there is this mysterious 'hozyain', the master, who decides, how this place and its people will live today and tomorrow. But now she sees him, she can reach out and touch him and, to her horror, she realizes that the hozyain and the main prisoner is one and the same person.

"So, you are the journalist, that wanted to speak to me that badly. How many months did Olga draw the wool over your eyes, before finally letting you here? Four? Five?" He sits down on a chair at the opposite side of the table and casually checks both guns.

"Three... Wait, where are the guards taking her? What are they going to do?!" By this point, she already can't think about an interview. Maybe Olga was an absolutely unbearable person, maybe she was disgusting in her self-destruction, but Yasha would never wish to leave her in this man's hands.

"Live here for three months already and still couldn't learn a word 'lazaret'? It means 'med bay in prison'. You see, our Olga is a very sick person, a lost soul, if you want. She was left here to keep an eye on me, but instead it is me, who has to feed her, make sure, she takes her medicine, lock her in a hospital when needed..." He pushes both guns to the opposite end of the table and gestures her to sit back, finally.

"What, I'm ruining a beautiful romantic story about the scary Russian beast, that has no compassion whatsoever?"

"No..." Yasha slowly descends back on a sofa, still not daring to look him back in the eyes. "You are only adding to it. It's clear, you despise her for whatever reason. You don't beat up someone, when you wish them to heal."

She takes a pause, weighing her next words. They may cost her not only her career, but her life.

"You... are keeping her. You think, bullet in her skull would be too much of a mercy, so you sit and watch as she slowly drowns herself."

For a minute, that feels to her like an eternity, he is watching her in silence. His eyes are a torture, his very presence is a torture.

"Nu tak kak - ya zver` ili chelovek?" (So who am I - a beast or a human?) He switches to Russian and talks somehow a bit quieter. But Yasha understands this question.

"Ne znaiy." (I don't know)

He leans back with a satisfied grin. This man loves the fear surrounding him like an invisible aura, he thrives in others panic and lostness.

"Nu tak prover`." (Well check it out) And with that words escaping his lips, Yasha got her worst job ever.

[colormepurplex2]

Chasing Shadows | Crime & Punishment

↳  Jungkook x f.Reader ⤜ Best Friends Brother/Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 5,632 ⚠️ guns, scare tactics, talk of car accident from drunk driving, minor injury, mention of blood/wound, allusion to mild depression/self-reflection

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Waking up with Jungkook’s arms still around you feels really good. You luxuriate in it for as long as you dare before forcing yourself back to reality. It’s just supposed to be a one-time thing, just a night…only a taste. But, you can’t seem to get your mind to wrap around that fact, if you’re being honest with yourself. The way he touched you, worshiped your body, and called you baby is something you feel on a deeper level than you intended.

You do know, though, that you need to focus on one thing at a time. Figuring out what’s going on and who’s behind it is crucial. There are only so many hours left before whoever is threatening you is expecting to see their manuscript published under your column at The Scarlet Informant. Whatever this is with Jungkook, if it’s anything at all, will have to wait; despite how anxious that makes you.

Jungkook stirs behind you. His warm, soft breath puffs against your neck as he snuggles in closer. “Morning,” he whispers.

You’re both still naked. This should make the very apparent morning boner pressed against your ass awkward, but…it isn’t. If anything, you feel completely content to wake up naked with your best friend’s brother wrapped around you. On second thought, you cringe internally at how Enola would react to that. Something to worry about later.

“Sleep okay?” you ask. You try to start untangling yourself from his embrace but the more you wiggle around the tighter he holds you.

“Mmm, I did.” There is still sleep lacing his tone, which makes his voice deep and gravely in a way that has you wishing the sun would go back down. “I’ll contribute that to an excellent cuddle partner.”

That butterfly feeling from last night comes back with a vengeance. You know you need to get out of this bed and this man’s arms before you do something you’ll come to regret. Like, embarrass yourself by asking him to give you another orgasm or two for good luck. Your window is narrowing and you could use all the luck you can get.

“I should grab a shower, I need to be at work in an hour.” Jungkook finally relents and lets you wiggle out of his arms. You can’t help snagging a look of him over your shoulder as you head to your small en-suite bathroom. He’s relaxed back, one arm over his eyes and the other spanning the bed where you just were. His chest is bare, the blankets sitting just below his belly button. It’s a dangerous thought, how good he looks in your bed, but you can’t help how it lingers even after your hurried shower.

Jungkook has on his clothes from last night and is sitting on your couch when you come out of your bedroom. “I’ll drive you to work, as long as it’s okay that we stop by my place first?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you begin, but he holds up a hand to stop your protest.

He stands up from the couch and stretches his arms over his head. The black hoodie rises, exposing a small slip of his skin. Your eyes lock onto it until it disappears again when he lowers his arms. “I want to. I’m still going to stick by your side today. We have more time to figure this out and we’re going to. Namjoon was running his programs all night, maybe he’ll have something for us this morning.”

He doesn’t. Or, not quite, at least. When Jungkook got off the phone with him last night, Namjoon told him he would be running checks on security and traffic cameras surrounding the local skatepark where Riley was approached to see if anything could be found out about the mystery woman. The good news is, Namjoon has the woman’s face on video. The bad news is, it’s taking a really long time for facial recognition to provide results.

Jungkook hangs up with Namjoon as he leads you out to his ride.

“You drive a motorcycle?” you ask, eyeing the sleek black and chrome bike he approaches. He parked in the visitor's area of the parking garage attached to your building.

“Only when it’s not raining.” He shrugs, grabbing two helmets out of one of the saddle bags. “Is that okay?” Jungkook flicks his eyes over the slacks and blouse you’re wearing.

“That’s fine. I just didn’t peg you for a bike guy, is all.” Though, the Jungkook before you is clearly quite different from the Jungkook of your past.

As if he could read your thoughts, he says, “Well, I’m not the same guy I was in high school. If you base everything you think about me on who I used to be, you’re going to be sorely disappointed or maybe pleasantly surprised.”

“You’re right,” you agree. “All I really know is who you used to be and what little Enola has told me.”

His eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “All good, I hope?”

You roll your eyes playfully, taking the helmet he holds out to you. “Good enough, I suppose.”

Jungkook steps close, taking the chin straps from between your fingers and begins to adjust them for you. His fingers ghost over your jawline as he works the straps before clicking the buckle beneath your chin. A knuckle hooked under your chin tilts your head up. His eyes flick over your face and down to the chin strap. “Just so we’re clear. Last night was amazing. It wasn’t just a distraction for me. We don’t know each other at this point in our lives…but, I want us to.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond, turning and pulling on his own helmet instead. You’re not sure what you’d say anyway. From those words, you’re starting to think perhaps those feelings of butterflies and the heat shared between the two of you isn’t just you overreacting. Jungkook wants to get to know the you that you are now, even knowing what today might bring…even knowing what’s on the pages of the manuscript you have rolled up in your bag. You wish you could get lost in the feel of his body pressed between your thighs as you hold tightly around his waist, the hum and vibrations of the powerful machine under you, but the weight of those papers in your bag keeps stealing your attention.

Jungkook told you to leave it at home, but you couldn’t. You know you’ll publish it before you let anything happen to anyone. At this point, you don’t care about what happens to you…your bigger concern is the impact this could potentially have on Enola. Just because her report isn’t in the manuscript doesn’t mean it won’t eventually surface afterward. All someone would have to do is connect a few small dots and the domino effect would be impossible to stop.

What happened on graduation night is not something you want to think about. Mistakes were made, and accidents happened, but nothing can be done to change what happened. Lives were changed; maybe even ruined as the manuscript so eloquently states. But, none of it was intentional. You didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.

Jungkook pulls onto a familiar street. Enola has never mentioned the fact her brother also lives on Baker Street. The bike slows in front of a stretch of townhouses and Jungkook pulls into a narrow access way that leads to a small garage on the backside of two units.

“I didn't know you lived on Baker Street, too.” You swing a leg over the bike and slide off. Unsnapping the chinstrap, you tug the helmet off and wait for Jungkook to reach for it before handing it over. He balances it on the seat along with his.

“221B, home sweet home. I’ve lived on this street longer than Enola has, actually. My landlord, Mr. Park, is the one that suggested she move into one of the other units at the end,” he explains, leading you up to the backdoor of the townhome.

“Does your brother live here as well?”

You mean it to be more of a joke, but Jungkook answers all the same. “Nah, Yoongi keeps a penthouse above his club, Decadence.” Oh. You’re not familiar with Decadence. All you know is it’s a high-end gentlemen's club. For that matter, you’re not all too familiar with Enola and Jungkook’s older brother except for what the news outlets have to say about him; he has some sort of government affiliation but you’re not sure exactly what. He’s several years older than Jungkook and had left home when he was a teen, so you only remember bits and pieces. “He comes by often, though, always sticking his nose in my business.”

“Protective older brother,” you muse with a smile.

“More like a prominent pain in my ass. Don’t let his club fool you, Yoongi has his hands in more power jars than is probably healthy. He helps me out from time to time. I thought about calling him about your situation and I just might if it comes down to it.” 

The inside of Jungkook’s place is comfortably masculine with deep colors and smooth lines without feeling too uptight. Books and papers cover a lot of the flat surfaces. You see stacks of medical books, journals, psychology study compilations and any number of other educational and research materials. Before he can disappear upstairs to change there is a knock on the front door.

Jungkook’s lips purse and you can tell he’s tempted to ignore the knock but he moves to the door a moment later and glances through the peephole. He lets out a soft sigh before opening the door.

“Never thought I’d see the day you bring a lady friend over!” a pleasant voice states before the door is half-open. “Were you trying to sneak her in through the back door?”

“No, Jimin, I wasn’t sneaking. I just stopped here to change clothes and then I’m leaving to take her to work.”

“Changing clothes? You’re in the same clothes you wore yesterday. Oh my! You slept at her place, didn't you? How intriguing!”

Jungkook gives you an apologetic look before introducing you to the bubbly personality that practically pushed through the door to get inside. “This is my landlord, Mr. Park— Jimin.”

“I live next door,” Jimin explains, grabbing up your hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “Pleased to meet you. It’s about time Jungkook found himself a woman.”

“Oh whoa, whoa. Not the day for this conversation, Jimin, come back tomorrow and maybe we can talk about it.” Jungkook shakes his head, fighting a smile, while pointing toward the still-open door. “Come on, I don’t have time for your antics this morning, I really do need to get her to work soon.”

Jimin huffs, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook before turning and giving you a sweet smile. “Again, it was a pleasure. I hope to see you again real soon. Dinner tomorrow maybe?”

“Out!” Jungkook insists, ushering Jimin to the door by his elbow.

“Grumpy,” Jimin grumbles as the door swings shut.

Jungkook turns back to you and blows out a breath. “Sorry about him, he can be a bit much sometimes.”

“No, it’s fine. He seems sweet.”

“Ha,” Jungkook laughs. “I’ll be right back. Five minutes tops.” You watch as he disappears up the stairs.

With a few moments to yourself, you try to breathe through the small sliver of panic that has begun to beat through your chest. It’s really happening. Things are about to explode in just a few hours. You’re not sure how to even begin to approach damage control in a situation like this. You’re certain you’ll probably lose your job. Rigby is a wonderful boss and very forgiving but you’re not certain he’ll be thrilled about not only an unauthorized piece being published to The Scarlet Informant but one that is so utterly demeaning to you, too.

It’s a small mercy that you have things to fall back on. There are always more opportunities out there, other doors you can open. It’ll just be quite unfortunate to have to try to start over. Maybe move to a different city, state, or country. That’s a sobering thought, packing up your apartment and moving to the other side of the world in order to start over. But, if that’s what it takes…

Jungkook appears a few minutes later, his heavy footfalls pounding down the stairs. He’s traded his black hoodie for a leather jacket and you can smell the distinct clean linen scent wafting from him. He smells good. His hair is mildly damp, making you think about him being naked in the shower, which leads to thoughts of his naked body last night.

“Sorry,” you begin, “if I’ve somehow given your friend the wrong idea by being here. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Jungkook cocks his head to the side and gives you a small smile. “As far as I’m concerned, he has the right idea. You make me anything but uncomfortable, trust me. But, let’s just focus on what’s going on today and everything else will come later, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” you agree. You begin to turn to head toward the backdoor in the kitchen, assuming that’s where you need to go in order to leave, but Jungkook stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t think I’m done with you, though, okay?” His hand turns you to face him and he brings his other hand up to cup the side of your face. “I’m so far from being done,” he whispers, his eyes focused on your lips. “By the increased rate of your breathing and the erratic way the pulse in your throat is hammering, I’m going to assume you’re okay with me kissing you right now?”

All you can do is nod. Jungkook leans in, eyes moving from your lips to search your face for any signs he might be wrong in his deduction, despite your nod of agreement. Satisfied by the openness he sees in your face, he presses his lips to yours. There’s a lingering mintiness there that takes you back to the first kiss you shared with him. His lips move against yours in a delicate way, not too demanding but with enough assurance that you can tell he wants more.

“Enola is going to kill us,” you murmur against his lips, finally breaking away from the kiss.

Jungkook laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. “Maybe. But, also a worry for another time. Let’s get you to work and see if Namjoon has an update.”

You’re only a little late getting to the office after Jungkook insisted on stopping and grabbing some breakfast sandwiches and coffee. You appreciate his attentiveness, it’s nice to feel taken care of by someone other than yourself or Enola. Everyone is already at their desks and you enter to a chorus of ‘good mornings’ from your team. Tae raises an eyebrow and nods at Jungkook who follows you in. You smile and give him a subtle shake of yourself, mouthing a ‘don’t even’ at him. He pokes his lips out in a playful pout but goes back to his work, a smirk spreading on his face.

There is soft chatter in the office space, everyone getting ready for a typical Friday. It’s the day when most new columns go live and you can’t help but see the irony of your deadline. For some reason the update schedule of The Scarlet Informant doesn’t seem like a detail Nuavez would particularly know or care about and you don’t like coincidences.

“You’re welcome to take a seat if you want,” you tell Jungkook, indicating the empty seat beside your desk that you normally have people sit in when you’re having one on one’s with them.

“I’m going to make that call to Namjoon real quick first. I’ll be right back, just going to step out into the lobby where it’s quieter,” he says, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he steps toward the door.

You watch him go, feeling forlorn and a bit helpless. Jungkook’s done a lot for you in such a short period of time. Namjoon’s help has been paramount in connecting the dots. It just doesn’t seem like any of it will matter in only a few hours. The manuscript still sits in your bag, waiting to bring your shame and guilt you’ve lived with for so long into the light.

You were barely given forty-eight hours, that’s not enough time to figure out who is behind this and discover a way to stop them. Looking around your office, you take in the faces of your co-workers, the ones being threatened if you don’t follow through. With that in mind, you pull out the manuscript and begin to prepare it for publishing. It’s the only thing you can think to do at this point.

An anxious-looking Jungkook jogs back into the office and right up to your desk. “What is it?” you ask in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb those around you.

“Namjoon got something. He knows the identity of our mystery woman,” he presses his phone to his chest, leaning in so close you get a lungful of his fresh scent with your next breath. “Her name is Katrina James.”

That breath turns sour in your throat. “What did you say?”

“Katrina James. She’s a local. Has a clean record which is weird, but Namjoon is digging a little deeper to see if there’s anything the initial search missed…what’s that look for?”

You’re sure the color has drained from your face. There is a static tone to the sounds in your ears, punctuated by the harsh thump of your heart as you struggle to process the name Jungkook just gave you. “Katrina James works here. I— she…is in this office.” That puts Jungkook on high alert. His posture changes and you see him reach behind him and you know he’s checking that his pistol is loose in its holster.

“Don’t panic. Look at me,” Jungkook talks in an even tone, directing you. You look up, locking your gaze with his. “Which desk is she at?”

“Jungkook, it doesn’t make any sense,” you try to begin reasoning but Jungkook raises his brows at you, giving you a look that silences your words.

“Just tell me which desk, okay, baby?” He smiles, acting like you’re having a completely normal conversation and not discussing how one of your co-workers might be working with a known criminal and threatening people in your life. “Don’t look,” he urges, when you begin to turn around, “just tell me in relation to yours.”

You take a calming breath and try to put on your own smile. “Her desk is the one closest to the supply closet at the back of the room.”

“Brown hair? Glasses?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, confirming.

“She looks agitated,” he comments, only keeping his eyes on her long enough to assess but not lingering in a way that would be suspicious. He brings his phone away from his chest and lifts it back to his ear. In the quietest tone, he relays information to Namjoon, whom you realize must still be on the line. The way he acts, you’d think he was having a pleasant conversation with a friend with the way he smiles and periodically hums.

You’re wracking your brain, trying to figure out what the connection is when your own phone goes off from inside your pocket. Slipping it out you see that it’s Enola calling. Jungkook glances at your phone screen and he nods to answer it.

“Hey, E, what’s up?” you try for your most relaxed and unassuming tone. It half works.

“Namjoon has been keeping me in the loop but I only just now got all the updates. I called as soon as I could. The Nuavez thing, it can’t be him, I’m almost certain.” That makes you pause, you glance at Jungkook as your eyes go wide. “He did escape from custody but his body was discovered yesterday and he’d been dead for several days. There’s an ongoing investigation into what happened to him, all I know is he was shot and his body was discovered in an abandoned car.”

“None of this makes sense,” you admit, muffling your words with your hand as you turn to focus on your keyboard. Jungkook steps closer to you, standing right at your back. He’s still talking in hushed tones to Namjoon. “Did Namjoon send you the most recent bit of information he uncovered?”

“Katrina James? Yeah. That’s what I was going to mention next. He sent me the photo of her and there’s just something about her that seems so familiar. I just can’t figure it out.”

“She works in my department,” you tell her.

Enola lets out a colorful curse. “Fucking hell. Jungkook is there with you, right?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t left my side,” you assure her, not caring if she figures out that means he stayed the night at your place, too.

Jungkook knocks into your chair a moment before all hell breaks loose. There are screams, shouts, and the sound of people clambering at their desks. “Don’t even think about it!” Jungkook bellows.

“You’re ruining everything!” The scream comes from the back of the office space, echoing in the sudden silence. “I can’t stand aside and watch this bullshit farce any longer!”

You dropped your phone when Jungkook bumped into your chair, it lies forgotten on your desk. Enola’s frantic yelling barely registers from the small speaker. “That’s not happening, Katrina. That’s right, I know who you are and what you’ve done.”

Jungkook is large and impossible to see around with how close he’s standing to you, effectively caging you and your chair under your desk. You push back and he steps away ever so slightly, giving you enough room to turn and take in the scene in your office.

Most of your coworkers are cowering below their desks and some are huddled together on the front sides of their desks. The only people standing are Jungkook by you and Kat— Katrina, at the back of the room. They both have guns out, pointed directly at one another.

“You know nothing about me,” she tells Jungkook. Her arm trembles as she slowly pans her gun to point at you instead. “But, you…you know so much more than you think, you fucking monster.”

Monster. Just that one word is confirmation enough that she’s involved in what’s going on. “Kat, listen, I’m not sure what you think I did but whatever it is, we can figure it out, okay? No one needs to get hurt. Just put the gun down and let’s talk.”

Jungkook tries to move further in front of you but you put a hand on his arm, preventing him from covering you completely. This is your fight, he can’t protect you from this; at least, not like that.

“It’s not what I think you’ve done wrong, it’s what I know you’ve done wrong! You ruined my life and you don’t even care!” Kat screams, angry tears now maring her reddened cheeks. “Was it really that easy for you to move on? Was he really that forgettable that you could just go on living your life like nothing happened?!”

“He? Who’s he, Kat? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

You go to step around Jungkook but he refuses to let you go that far, latching his free hand on your arm. “Don’t be a hero,” he hisses at you. “Namjoon is calling Hoseok, locals will be here soon,” he adds low enough so that only you can hear.

Kat takes several steps forward and everyone cowering around their desks screams in alarm. “My brother!” She brings her other hand up to the gun and uses it to cock back the hammer. It looks like it’s just a small caliber revolver, but you still don’t want anyone to get hurt.

“Who’s your brother, Kat?” You want to try and keep her talking, buy some time for Hoseok and his team to get here. Jungkook tightens his grip on your arm when you try to step closer to Kat. His gun is still trained on her as she advances a few more steps. She’s now only half the office away. You can see her eyes are red-rimmed and her face is blotchy. Her normally prim and orderly appearance is disheveled. The soft pink dress she’s wearing has a few stains down the front and several strands of her hair have escaped the bun at the nape of her neck. There are smudges on her glasses and she keeps pushing them up her nose with the hand not holding the gun.

“Robert,” she sobs, “Robert Harper! My Robby!”

It all clicks into place. “Oh, Kat.” You can’t help the empathy that infuses your voice.

“Don’t act like you give a shit!” she counters, baring her teeth in a silent snarl. “If you would have just done the right thing that night nothing would have happened! Robby would have gone off to college, he would have been a football star!” A choking sob hiccups around her words. “You ruined his life and now I’m going to ruin yours! Even if you don’t publish the truth, I’ll make sure everyone knows what a horrible person you are, I swear I will. I’ll hurt you just like you hurt him, like you hurt me!”

You can see it now, the similarities between Kat and Robert, in the slight upturn of her nose and the roundness of her eyes. It’s a wonder how you missed it to begin with. But, Katrina’s last name is James, and Robert’s is Harper. You’re not sure you would have ever made the connection.

“Katrina, it was an accident,” Jungkook says. “I know Robert, he’s a good guy. He wouldn’t want you to do this, not for him.”

“You shut up!” she yells at Jungkook. “I know who you are, you’re not about to psychoanalyze me! You can shove your deductive reasoning up your ass! This is between me and her.” Kat adjusts her grip on the gun, finger flexing around the trigger.

You try to convey just how sorry you are with your words and your eyes, keeping them locked on hers. “I know I should have taken the keys away from Enola. I never should have let her drive. It was late, there weren’t many cars out…I know that’s not an excuse but it was an accident. It’s a decision I’ve had to live with for years now, something I’ll never forgive myself for. I never meant for Robert to get hurt.”

“You’re not sorry, though! Look at you, going about your life like it’s nothing!” Kat uses the gun to jab in Jungkook’s direction. “Flaunting your life here in the office. You’re disgusting! Robby will never have a life like that…because of you!”

There is a moment of clarity before time inevitably runs out. It’s a moment of reflection, when you think about things you should have done, could have done, and never will get to do. Just like that night of graduation, when you knowingly let Enola get behind the wheel while intoxicated, there was what seemed like a lapse in time right before the car t-boned into Robert’s where you experienced a similar moment of clarity. You know that regardless of your life choices prior, things will ultimately be different on the other side of this moment.

The crack of a gun firing drowns out the horrified screams echoing through the office. Pain lances through your right shoulder before the air is completely knocked from your lungs and you hit the ground with a large weight covering you. Another reverberating crack of gunfire follows, filling the small space for a moment before deadly silence falls.

“Fuck, you’re bleeding,” Jungkook exclaims, ripping at the sleeve of your blouse to expose your shoulder. “Just a graze,” he murmurs with a sigh of relief.

There are still cries and sobs filtering through the ringing in your ears. “Kat?” you ask tentatively as Jungkook shifts his weight off of you.

His brows pinch together and he shakes his head. “Not sure.”

“Everyone else?”

“Fine, I believe. Come on.” He pushes himself upright and reaches down to help you to your feet.

“All clear!” You hear Hoseok’s voice bark over the din of noise. “Hey, are you okay? We got here as fast as we could. Received several calls from others in your building about the screaming. The whole city block is on lockdown now.”

You wince, peeking at your shoulder. The bleeding is sluggish but it still hurts like a bitch. “I think I’m good,” you respond, feeling like you’re on autopilot.

“She’s still in shock. Pulse is erratic and pupils are dilated,” Jungkook assesses, the fingers of one hand pressing into the crook of your elbow while he tilts your chin up with the other. “What questions do you have so I can get her home?”

Before Hoseok starts with his questions, you watch as a team of EMTs lift Kat onto a gurney. Her face is pale and you can see a blood stain spreading over the top of her dress.

“Clipped her in the shoulder,” Hoseok offers, clearing his throat. “She should be okay.” You nod, feeling a sudden wave of relief knowing that despite what she’s concocted and thrown at you, she’s going to be okay.

He goes through a series of questions that you answer to the best of your ability. Jungkook helps fill in where you can’t, offering up more information than you thought he’d have. You’re grateful for him and his ability to stay calm and collected in a situation like this.

Enola eventually got through on Jungkook’s phone and informed him that Director Connor is letting her come home from Singapore early. Taehyung clings to you for nearly fifteen minutes as you both whisper assurances and shed a few tears. As soon as things went sideways with Kat, Taehyung gathered as many of your coworkers as he could while the attention was on you and made sure they were all in hiding places or made it out of the office. You hadn’t even noticed, but you’re all that more in awe of his bravery.

A melancholy feeling sets in as Jungkook gives you a ride home. Rigby advised every one of a two-week break for The Scarlet Informant while the office is put back to rights and all legal proceedings take place. You’re going home without knowing for certain if you’ll be returning and that leaves you feeling defeated all the same.

Things do change. Over the next few weeks, you work through the mess that was left behind. With the help of Jungkook, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Enola all the pieces finally fit together. There was a lot of incriminating evidence in Kat’s home, apparently. More than enough to put her away in a state facility where she’ll hopefully get the help she needs.

The morning she requested off from work she was the one that broke into your apartment, using a copy of your key that she lifted from your desk at work. She used her knowledge of the Nuavez case to make it look like he was the one threatening your friends and family. It seems she’d been planning this for a while now but the last straw was your promotion. She couldn’t stand seeing you happy any longer.

It’s still being investigated, but Enola confirmed there are some strong points that are leading the FBI to believe that Katrina paid off the guards transporting Rico Nuavez and she’s the one that killed him. The ballistics on her revolver match the bullet pulled from his body. That made you shiver, realizing that you could have been met with the same fate…if it wasn’t for Jungkook.

Jungkook. Now, there’s the real light in this crazy bit of darkness. He’s stayed true to his word and hasn’t left your side; even though you no longer need to be connecting the dots to figure out who your stalker is. To the surprise of both you and Jungkook, Enola is one hundred percent team you two. It’s endearing and gives you hope.

“You ready for court tomorrow?” Jungkook asks, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Mm,” you hum. Turning over in his arms, you bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Ready for all this to be over with.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” he teases, butting his head against yours until you look up at him.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it, smartass.” You roll your eyes, playfully nipping at his chin. Snuggling in closer, you sigh contentedly.

“We should work together,” he surmises, full of confidence and assurity. You laugh. “Start our own investigation firm. We’d make a great team.”

“Wait, you’re being serious?” You lean back so you can look him in the eye. No twinkle of mischief, no teasing gleam…he’s completely serious.

Jungkook nods. “I enjoyed working with you, solving your case. I want to keep doing that, chasing shadows with you.”

You lay there for a moment, contemplating the best way to tell Jungkook how you feel about his offer. Words seem terribly inadequate to convey how it makes you warm, how you can feel the heat rising over your chest and the flutters sweeping through your belly. They say actions speak louder than words. So, you touch your lips to his and begin to tell him exactly what it is you’re feeling.

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◅ Back to Master List ©️      2022-12-25     ColorMePurplex2

[toomanybandstocare]

{Doubts Even Here, New Order}

Program: News of your disappearance and last known where abouts have folded into the city police reports. After a call into the station and a reunion with the former Hawkins police chief, nothing sits right in Billy. Not the lax reactions of your friends to the news. Not city sheriff's quick accusations. Certainly not the woman of his nightmares at the steps of your apartment. What happened to you?

Pairings: Billy Hargrove & Missing, GN! Reader

Genre: Angst and Mystery

Length: 2678w

Warnings: Themes of abduction/missing persons disappearance, Police officers and stations (only a passing accusation of who did it, no harassment or violence), References and discussions of depression

Isolation | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Notes: Hi ya, campers. I hope spooky season is treating you well :) I've working on this on and off for a while before I finally got hit with an itch to write/finish it. I'm hoping to post once a week one here and hopefully chat with more campers! I hope you enjoy, and I would love to hear your thoughts and theories! Reblog banner at the end is made by @maysdigitalarts- again thank you so much!

“Look, Hopper,” Steve’s voice hoarse from just waking up, “We didn’t see ‘em around after the get together at Nance’s place. When I did get through on the  phone, just said it was a cold. Shouldn’t last more than a week- two at most. It’s only been a week”.

Hopper sighs and pinches his nose with one of his hands. “Steve, I’m not even going to comment on how wrong that logic is. For a friend in general or one who is sick”. Shaking his head, Hopper claps his hands and keeps them in front of his legs as his eyes lock onto Billy.

“Going to tell us why we found a key to the apartment addressed to you in a perfect match to the sample handwriting,” Hopper asks but it comes out more like a demand when paired with a cold stare as he leans against the city sheriff’s desk. 

Billy curls into himself slightly under the man’s unwavering gaze. His mind fuzzy as he tries to process what Hopper has shared with them. “No,” Billy whispers. His tongue darts across his dry lips before he bites down on the inside of his cheek.

The entire Hawkins crew sit in the sheriff’s office in uncomfortable metal chairs lined up in front of their own police chief. Each young adult had stumbled into the station early this morning from a chilling phone call requesting their cooperation in their friend’s disappearance investigation. The dreary, dull blue walls displaying newspaper clippings and awards seem to slowly warp and fall into the room. A suffocating confinement that makes each person shift in their seats.

“You know how this looks with an answer like that, Billy,” Hopper sighs exasperated. He lets go of the tension in his shoulders and relaxes with a cross of his leg. “I’m only here as a consultant,” Hopper looks at each of the kids’ terrified expressions, “I can’t protect you anymore. It looks bad for all of you, that Wheeler’s apartment party was the last known appearance. It looks awful that your name was left at what is now being considered a possible abduction scene”. His brown eyes hone in on Billy. Taking in the room, Hopper looks down at his feet before continuing: “With how all of your records look- FBI classified restriction and multiple arrests- you’re all suspects. I can only provide testimonies to your characters and help try to figure out habits that could result in possible leads”.

Hopper’s words flood Billy’s ears, but they sound muted. Distant. Yet, solid. As if a verdict has already been reported by the jury. Without thinking, Billy moves his shaking hand to the chair to his right and clutches a trembling, clammy ring clad hand. His fingernails bite into Eddie’s palm as the other’s callous fingers trace his scarred knuckles.

“Are they already there,” Billy’s hoarse voice breaks through the thick static ringing through the air. All wide eyes lock onto his hunched form. “The cops, I mean,” he tries again and ignores the concerned looks.

“No,” Hopper confesses slowly. His eyes squint with suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

“I said some,” Billy pauses with the heavy words sitting on his tongue, “pretty inconsiderate things last I saw ‘em. I knew something was off after I shut my big mouth for a minute, and it hasn’t been sitting right with me since that night”. Billy closes his eyes tight as he squeezes Eddie’s hand in a searing grip. As if the blurring colors painting the back of his lids and faint memory of your ghost at the party that replays in his mind will whisk him away. Swallowing bile stinging his throat, Billy opens his eyes and meets Hopper’s serious expression with a look of determination. “Give me five minutes in there,” he pleads. As Hopper shifts and opens his mouth to protest, Billy quickly spits out his next words. “I barely know ‘em, sure. Technically, interfering with an investigation if I get caught. I know. Just let me try to help,” Billy’s words come out a harsh whisper. “You didn’t see what I did that night. A broken shell sitting in a bean bag chair silently screaming for help, and none of us saw past our egos to actually care enough. Myself included”.

The seconds hang in the stale air. Not a single breath broke the heavy atmosphere. As all eyes look towards Billy, he keeps his gaze trained forward. Piercing blue eyes dare to hold Hopper’s grave gaze.

Leaning forward and resting his hands on the metal chair arms, Hopper crowds Billy’s space. His voice lowly rumbles in the room. A hushed exchange of words passes his lips before Hopper leans back against the desk once more. His eyes glint with a knowing acknowledgement, but they dart to the door when it slams open.

“So, who did it,” a booming voice demands from behind the line of chairs.

“That’s not how this works,” Hopper barks back, “They’re all good kids who want their friend back. I have a better idea of how that night went, so we can make a more accurate timeline before heading out”.

Hopper walks around the groups of kids and pats Billy on the shoulder before following the sheriff out the door. With the faint click from the door’s latch, Billy launches out of his chair causing a chorus of metal screeching, chair crashing, and friends crying out loud.

“What the fuck, Hargrove,” Steve yells after Billy.

“Billy, we can’t go yet,” Robin pleads.

“Come one man, knock it off. We’re on thin ice right now,” Eddie says and shoots his hand out to try to tug back his friend. Jean jacket just out of reach.

“What do you know,” Nancy demands.

All their shouts whir in the air as Billy throws him out of the room and runs through the station. Not paying attention to his surroundings as he makes a beeline to his trusty Camaro. 

“You got maybe an hour before these city slickers can’t put up with my stalling,” Hopper’s words echo in his mind.

Billy’s feet slap and propel him out the entry way as he haphazardly stumbles down the cement stairs. His searching eyes lock onto the pristine, blue muscle car just past the stairway. With no time to waste, Billy runs to his car and quickly unlocks the door to slide into his safe haven. Igniting the roaring engine, Billy skids out of his parking spot to the sound of car horns and cussing. He taps his fingers against the leather wheel and glances at the small polaroid of you, him, and Max at her graduation that sits on his dash. He’ll be damned if he gives up on the one person who never gave up on him.

The drive to your apartment is filled with tense silence as Billy navigates the streets as carelessly as he can spare as an active suspect. Yet standing in front of the apartment’s looming entrance, Billy finds his fingers trembling just inches before the doorbell.

“I was wondering when you’d show up here,” a soft voice from over his shoulder startles Billy.

Forcing his shoulders and spine straight, Billy turns to face the girl everyone loves. Chrissy’s blonde locks gently sway against her scarred jaw as she smiles up at him from the bottom step. His mouth runs dry at the sight of his former classmate. The one who got away from Hawkins and vanished into the night. Without a word. Her name becoming a whisper in the wind. Here she stands with a paper bag of groceries just as beautiful as the last day he saw her in the halls of Hawkins High. Chrissy’s gleaming smile replays Billy’s memory like a splice in a movie film.

“I thought,” his ragged voice trails off. Eyes wide in shock follows her graceful movements as she floats past him.

“You thought I was dead?” she hummed with the lock’s click.

“No,” Billy rushes out, “I thought you escaped. Went to a community college or something. Never thought you were still in state”.

Chrissy’s laugh comes across more as a light shrill as she opens the door and gestures for him with a gentle flick of the wrist to follow her. “Well here I am, Billy Hargrove,” she declares. Brilliant blue eyes holding his own stoic look as they stand in the apartment’s entryway.

The air seems to stand still when the door shuts behind them. Unable to tear his gaze away from the woman of nightmares, Billy wonders how this situation truly began. Chrissy Cunningham is a siren that had easily casted a spell over their high school and had soon washed over the whole town. Her primrose pink lipstick makes his stomach churn. Hi fingers twitch as buried memories resurface.

Forcing stale oxygen into his heavy lungs, Billy clears his throat. “I came by to -,” he tries to speak.

“Last door on the right. Opposite the kitchen,” her soft voice cuts through him like a chilling autumn wind. Chrissy’s unwavering smile causes Billy’s muscles to tense. A prickling sting at the back of his head keeps him alert as he carefully follows her directions.

A gray overcast blankets the solemn apartment the further Billy creeps. His heart hammers against his ribs as his boots echo from the kitchen tiles. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” Chrissy calls from behind him. The sound of paper rustling interrupts static stinging his mind.

His eyes lock onto the poster plastered door to your bedroom as he mumbles, “Wasn’t planning on staying here long, and your reappearance doesn't bode well”.

“You make it sound like I did it,” her voice significantly quieter.

Tearing his eyes away from the Lost Boys poster, Billy whips his head to look at Chrissy only to see an empty, white tiled kitchen. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya,” he calls out. Billy’s breath catches as he waits for a response. Silence envelopes the building. Not even the city’s comforting cacophony breaches the interior.

Billy’s face creases into a nervous expression as he redirects his attention back to your bedroom door. He reaches for the doorknob, and his fingers graze against a small weave of thread. Unlooping what he now recognizes as a bracelet, Billy rubs the textile with his thumb. The very same bracelet that your supposed friend group made one night after the fatal earthquake. You never took off this bracelet. Every time he saw you - group movie nights, run-ins at the farmer’s market, coffee catch up - Billy noticed the flash of colorful thread as you moved your hands in wild gestures to follow along with your words. So, why did you leave such an important piece of you behind? 

With a deep breath, Billy pockets the bracelet and covers his hand with his jacket sleeve as he opens the door. He’s not even sure what he was hoping to find or how he could even help, yet here he is. Stepping into your room and closing the door behind him, Billy stumbles and bumps the door from the sight of your room torn apart. Papers pinned haphazardly over posters and photos. Dresser drawers askew with clothing spewing over. Desk littered with ripped pieces of paper and books carelessly left teetering on the edge.

“Red thread one- abduction,” Billy mutters as he carefully steps over a broken picture frame. Sparing a moment, he crouches down as glass crunches underneath his boots and scrapes against the floor as he picks up the frame with his jacket’s sleeve covering his hand. A photo of the entire group of them smiles up at him, only the faces of your beloved friends are etched out with pen. Almost to the point where light peeks through the small tears in the polaroid. “Or red thread two- missing person or runaway,” he trails off. Carefully, he pulls the photo from the frame and puts it back how he found it. Moving the photograph, Billy’s eyebrows pinch together when he comes across your familiar scrawl. His eyes dart along the messy handwriting and widen as he processes the message: “Skull rock breaks hearts. Indiannapolis shatters souls. For a fresh start, I’ll take a coffee alone in the rainy city”. Standing tall, Billy tucks the polaroid in his chest pocket with the bracelet and surveys the room. Another thumb tack to attach to red thread two. Now, what?

“That room has always been rather…messy,” a faint voice breaks the silence.

“You make it sound like no one’s lived in here for some time,” Billy points out as he tiptoes further into the room. Each careful footstep avoids disturbing the alleged crime scene.

“It’s true,” Chrissy's voice is accompanied by the slow drag of a fingernail against the wooden doorframe, “Or at least it is when you live with the ghost of a person. If I’m being honest, this is the most I’ve seen this room lived in”.

Billy’s body freezes at the contradiction. He turns to face Chrissy’s relaxed form leaning in the open doorway, “You said it was alway messy”.

“I never said what kind though,” she softly says as an eerie smile slithers onto her face. 

Before Billy can even open his mouth to inquire further, Chirssy slips just out of sight and into the kitchen. The rush of water floods his ears and ceramic clanks hit the counter. 

“Depression reeks,” her voice falls harsh against the faucet’s roar, “It festers and lingers until it becomes all consuming”.

Unable to pull his gaze away from the door, Billy knows he should spend his ticking minutes carefully. Her words capture his attention and ensnares him.

“You’re…not wrong, but don’t you think that’s a harsh way to put it?” Billy’s voice strained. His chest barely moves as he forces air into his lungs. Almost afraid to make a noise in case he misses Chrissy’s cold voice.

“Sooner or later it becomes all consuming. It eats you from the inside out until it nips at the ones you keep close in life,” she hums as the stovetop ignites with a hiss. “Depression will force you to imagine and believe in the worst scenarios that just play on repeat in your head. Until it warps and invades what you perceive as reality. It either makes you stagnant- frozen in time. Or it makes you run- run from everything that could go well for you in the guise of nothing going well”.

“What does this have to do with my visit,” Billy takes one last look at your disheveled room before toeing over to the doorway. Leaning against the doorframe, he watches Chrissy pour two cups of steaming water into mugs and carefully place tea bags in each.

Her slanted smile stings Billy’s senses as they hold each other’s gazes from across the kitchen island. Sneering into a snarl, Chrissy leans against the cool stone top: “Are you really that blind as to what happened? Or have you helped wash blood off your hands and the hands of another?”

As Billy takes a step closer to her, an invading knock at the front door breaks his attention. Adrenaline spikes his heart as air rushes through his lungs. “Ya got a back door,” Billy’s voice hastily asks. When he turns his head back to the kitsch, he’s met with only steam rising from the mugs.

“Over here,”Chrissy calls. Billy follows her voice just around the hallway corner where he stands toe to toe with Chrissy who holds open the door. Even with the height difference in his favor, Billy’s knees feel slightly numb as he meets Chrissy’s eyes.

“Don’t come back until you know they won’t look for you,” she hisses and hurriedly pushes him out of the apartment.

Still in a daze as the door closes behind him, Billy warily drags his feet over to the edge of the apartment. His shaky hand grasps onto the shingled wood as he peers out to see the city police car parked just behind his trusty camaro.

Camper List:

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[circusgoth-dotcom]

High School Never Ends

Ship: Bear & Dante Hicks (platonic), Jay x Bear x Silent Bob [Celebrity AU]

Word Count: 925

Summary: Started writing this for my AU April event and only just finished it. After becoming a well-known model, author, and actor, Bear returns to Leonardo, New Jersey, for a high school reunion. They're disappointed by the way their fame makes others act around them, but at least their ex-flame Dante is just the same as he always was, for better or for worse. CWs for brief emeto mention.

Tag List: @canongf

Though Bear was laughing and following the conversation, he was far from comfortable. He wasn’t sure why he even came back for this high school reunion. He knew exactly what to expect, now that he was a renowned model and author with some small acting parts under his belt… every peer who had either bullied him or didn’t know he existed in the first place now wanted his utmost attention and approval.

It disgusted him, and yet, here he was. Luckily, he was accompanied by his bodyguards, the mysterious Silent Bob and the… eccentric Jay. Little did anyone know Bear was dating them, and he intended to keep that secret so that his beloved boys wouldn’t lose their livelihoods.

He made a subtle signal to Silent Bob, who in turn attempted to catch the attention of Jay, who had wandered off. He was currently wrapped in conversation with a woman clearly looking for an out. Annoyed with his partner, Silent Bob eventually approached him and dragged him over.

“Hey—!” Jay interjected before quickly sobering up as they got closer to Bear. “Alright, guys and dolls, time is money and Bear’s not makin’ any just standing here.”

“In other words, I’m sorry, but I must take my leave… there’s an extensive photoshoot in New York, tomorrow, so I best get my beauty sleep in,” Bear added, much to his fellow alumni’s audible disappointment. He said his goodbyes and let Jay and Silent Bob lead him away. His stomach growled and he realised he hadn’t eaten dinner. They were feet from the doors to the high school gym when a voice sounded behind them.

“Bear???”

Oh good God, if I have to sign another autograph… Bear turned and was immediately struck with recognition.

“Hey buddy, can’t you see we’re in a hurry?” Jay snapped.

“Dante??” Bear asked breathlessly. The man before him was as he remembered him, though emanating more confidence than he had as a teen… more tired, if possible, and his facial hair had filled out nicely. His features were soft and his expression was just as surprised as Bear’s, who now smiled.

“I had no idea…”

“Jay, Silent Bob, this is my high school ex, Dante Hicks,” Bear explained and the boys relaxed. “You’re still kicking around Leonardo, huh?”

He shrugged, his expression one of reserved embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Still working at the Quick Stop… but enough about me, what’ve you been up to?”

“Oh a little this, a little that. You want to take this conversation outside? I was trying to shake off the crowd…”

Dante nodded keenly and the four of them exited into the hall, casually striding toward the exit. “You’re famous now. Somehow I didn’t realize that until this moment.”

Bear smiled tightly. “Fame, shmame. I’m still the good ol’ Bear you made out with behind the bleachers during the homecoming game in senior year.” They playfully bumped their hip against his, earning them a blush.

“And I’m still… just plain old Dante. King of the losers, as Randal would put it.” He shrugged.

Bear groaned softly. “I imagine he hasn’t changed much, either?”

“Nope.”

They were quiet for a moment. “It’s both comforting and depressing to know at least some things never change.”

They stepped into the night and Bear led Dante to the limousine before promptly sitting on the hood. He patted the space beside him and Dante winced.

“Geez, are you sure? That thing probably costs more than my rent…”

“Hey, I’ll pay personally to buff out the ass grease. Now sit down and tell me all about what’s happened to this dumpy little town while I was living the high life.”

Dante blushed again and awkwardly sat beside his old flame. Jay and Silent Bob professionally stood to the side with their arms crossed, silently daring someone to come and interrupt the moment. It was nothing exciting, really. Same old odd group of people, same old friends, same old hockey.

“If you want the drama, Randal’s got more of a handle on the pulse of those things. I could care less about who’s had a baby and who broke up and who threw up in whose car. He could, too, but he always knows, somehow,” Dante finished, shrugging. They looked up at the sky. It was almost clear, giving them a decent view of the stars. “It’s a beautiful night, at least.”

“Less light pollution out here. Though not by much, isn’t like Leonardo’s in the sticks or anything. But it’s nice.” Bear rested his head on his shoulder. “You forget what the sky looks like in New York and L.A.”

Dante’s heart fluttered. “Do you still think about us, Bear?”

They lifted their head. “Would it break your heart if I said ‘no?’”

Dante scooted a minuscule amount away from them, answering quickly. “No, not at all.”

Bear gave him a look, then smiled softly. “You yourself have crossed my mind… but not romantically. Sorry, I can’t help you out of here…”

“It’s okay. I get it.” His hand still fell on top of theirs.

“Here,” they kissed him briefly. “For luck.” They stood, rubbing Silent Bob’s arm and talking over their shoulder, “Well. Goodbye, Dante.”

He stood. “Bye, Bear.” He watched them and their body guards climb into the limousine and drive off, sighing heavily as he ran a hand through his hair. Always with the shit luck…

“Who was that?” Randal had appeared, making Dante jump.

“Oh, an old friend. It’s nothing.” But they really are something.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Miriam Grossman, M.D.

Published: July 11, 2023

An extract from her new book Lost in Trans Nation: A Child Psychiatrist’s Guide Out of the Madness

James is sporting a scruffy beard. Sarah wears skirts and doesn’t care about pronouns. Taylor wants to talk about college, not testosterone.

These small changes—all seen or reported to me recently by patients or their parents—are big.

In my book I’ve described monumental struggles and grief, but I want you to know there’s hope. Young people and their families can be helped with therapy.

They can slow their pace on the assembly line that leads to harm; some even step off. They can accept, even enjoy their bodies. It’s far from guaranteed and not always an easy road, but it’s possible.

How do I treat my gender-distressed patients? The same way I treat any other: with respect, empathy, curiosity, honesty, and with their lifelong happiness and well-being foremost in my mind.

I begin with, Tell me about yourself. I want to know who you are.

My patients have been led to believe they face a simple issue with a simple solution. I explain that it isn’t so. They are, like all people, a huge, complex tapestry, of which gender occupies just a small corner. The entire tapestry interests me, not only the one corner.

We’ll talk about gender, of course, but instead of automatic affirmation, we will look deeper.

Go deeper

We will try to determine what living as the opposite sex accomplishes. How will it make life better or easier? Is the new identity about becoming someone new, or fleeing who they are? Granted, some of my questions may make patients uncomfortable, but this is the biggest decision of their lives, and it deserves a close, careful look.

I look at my patient’s family. Is there conflict in her home, an ill parent or sibling? I determine if she has a psychiatric condition such as anxiety, depression, OCD, ADD, psychosis, or if she’s on the autism spectrum or has some other form of neurodiversity.

Is there a history of adoption, trauma or abuse? Social awkwardness or bullying? Attraction to the same sex? Is the trans identity a way of exploring themselves separate from their family, a normal task of adolescence, taken to an extreme?

There may be stereotypical beliefs about men and women that are mistaken. He may think he’s not “manly” and won’t find love or acceptance as he is. Maybe she or someone she loves was harmed, she feels helpless against male aggression, and for that reason seeks to flee femininity. Perhaps he or she fears growing up.

The point is: being “trans” is a solution—a coping mechanism—but to which problem? That’s the mystery we solve together.

One of my primary responsibilities is education. I am older and wiser, and that benefits my patients. One line that’s effective with know-it-all-adolescents: “Your sixteen? I’m 116.” Over my decades of practice, I learned many things, one of which is that people change. A leftist turns around and votes conservative. Couples once madly in love, certain about marriage, now are at each other’s throats. A woman who couldn’t have been more certain about aborting, twenty years later she’s childless and rethinking that decision.

People change, I tell my patients. You’re going to change too.

Another wisdom I share is that being human means struggling. It means living with limitations and weaknesses. You’re not the first person to hate your body, feel disconnected from your parents, and lack a place of belonging. You’re not the first human being to experience confusion, pain and loneliness.

Under some circumstances I might share a hardship of my own. Even more important is to reveal difficulties to a patient, at the moment. In doing so, she or he learns I have tough moments too, but they can be managed.

For example, if I fear a patient’s response, I might say: “I must tell you something, but I have mixed feelings about it, because of how you may react.” The patient learns I too have fear of conflict; I feel unsure just like she does. I’ve demonstrated how I tolerate those emotions.

A patient needs to feel safe and understood. It’s in that trusting and honest space between us that healing begins.

I try to model thoughtfulness, humility, and especially compassion. We must have compassion for ourselves and others—including our parents. They too are human, with limitations and struggles. They’re doing, or did the best they could, and it wasn’t all bad.

Ultimately the choice is theirs, I tell my patients, their identity is in their hands. At the same time, whether they’re requesting new pronouns or surgery, there are risks. I’m obligated to point out what they are doing has massive implications. What will their lives be like in ten, twenty, fifty years? There may be a high price to pay.

[ Video: Dr. Grossman charts Europe’s shift to caution on youth gender medicine ]

Red flags aflutter

I remind patients that as a physician, I have a profound appreciation for the body’s wisdom. They may think they have all the information they need, they may be convinced they’re knowledgeable about social and medical interventions, but I know they don’t and they’re not. From new names to mastectomies and vaginoplasties, they must understand the risks and the controversy.

If I neglect to delineate those risks and the current debate, I’m not doing my job. What if he or she comes back crying, Look what I’ve done to myself, why didn’t you warn me? Speaking of risks, that’s one I am unwilling to take.

I strongly encourage gender-distressed patients to at some point read detransitioners’ stories or watch their videos. When patients are unwilling to do so, or are unable to hear about the dangers of medicalizing, or if they claim to be unconcerned and confident, those are red flags. All of us have some degree of doubt when we face major decisions. Every decision has plusses and minuses. To be confident and wrong is dangerous.

It’s also my job to gently challenge and plant seeds. Being from an older generation, I ask my young patients to define the new language and explain their beliefs. I am curious. I want to learn from them. If their definitions or explanations don’t satisfy me, I’ll say so.

The goal is to recognise everyone is a mosaic of male and female. Honour the mosaic and leave the body alone. And to parents: You must respect your child’s mosaic, too. He or she may not match your ideas about masculinity and femininity.

When I said earlier my approach to transgender-identifying patients is just like with any other patient, I omitted a salient point. There is one huge difference. After their brief weekly sessions, my patients return to their friends, schools, and social media—a world bound to the Articles of Faith, which enshrine Gender Identity as sacred and forbid any questioning.

It’s daunting, to say the least, to build a connection with heavily indoctrinated patients. They’ve heard over and over there’s one answer to their predicament—transition. They cannot tolerate the doubts I plant.

The hurdle may be insurmountable. Zoe was an eleventh grader attending a Boston school where the cost of tuition was higher than the median yearly household income. Her mother informed me that in middle school, Zoe and her friends all declared themselves LGBT, they just hadn’t decided which letter.

Once I tried to inform Zoe that due to safety concerns, a minor like herself living in Sweden or Finland would not have access to puberty blockers. She placed her hands over her ears and hollered: “Don’t tell me about trans kids who can’t get medical care! Don’t you know fifty per cent of us try to commit suicide?”

To her accusation of being transphobic, I responded “I’m anti-suffering, not anti-trans.” I could almost sense her friends and influencers in the room with us, scowling at me. She refused to meet again.

In my many years as a physician, I’ve had patients with severe schizophrenia, untreatable cancer, and other serious conditions. No one ever fired me. Do you see why I say fighting dangerous ideas has been harder than fighting dangerous diseases?

When the young person has pledged allegiance to the Articles of Faith, the challenge facing parents and therapists is brutal. Parents who’ve yet to face the predicament, please listen to the mothers and fathers of kids with Rapid-Onset Gender Dysphoria.

Many of them say flat-out: they are living in hell, and they want to warn and teach you before you’re in their shoes. They are reaching out to save you from the impossible position they’re in—a child announcing that in order for me to stay in this family, you must support my self-harm.

These are the parents who—when they catch a glimpse of you at a park or shopping mall holding the hands of your toddler or school-age sons and daughters who are still attached to you, still trusting you—feel a stab in their hearts: If only you knew what may be ahead.

Your children are like a sponge, ready to absorb whatever comes their way. They are a work in progress, and you are their scaffolding, providing support and structure. If you don’t provide a belief system, a compass, or some meaningful foundation from which to understand the world, identify truth and lies, and know right and wrong, trust me—others are waiting eagerly to do just that. Before you know it, your child is a pawn, a foot soldier in a foreign crusade of dark and dangerous ideas, and you’re the toxic parent with a home that’s unsafe.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb: She’s the city girl who refuses to be saddled with a man. He’s the cowboy who wants her anyway. From the author of the BookTok sensation Done and Dusted comes the next book in the Rebel Blue Ranch series, a small town romance featuring opposites attract and forced proximity.

The last thing Ada Hart needs is a man to take care of her. Not anymore. After failing out of her interior design program and the disaster that was her short-lived marriage, Ada clawed her way up from her rock bottom. Now, the only person she trusts is herself, and that has gotten her further than ever before. She has her own business, and one of the largest ranches in Wyoming just hired her for the most important project of her career.

When Ada arrives in Meadowlark, she finds herself in a dive bar where she can’t seem to shake the eyes of a handsome cowboy. When she leads him to the back of the bar, he leaves her with a kiss that most people can only fantasize about. She almost regrets that she’ll never see him again . . . except it turns out he’s her new boss.

Weston Ryder is a happy guy. Even happier now that the mystery woman from the bar is the interior designer for his dream project on his family’s ranch. He feels like he hit the jackpot. It’s too bad she wants absolutely nothing to do with him outside of work. Ada is convinced the pull she feels toward Wes will go away, but Wes can’t stop thinking about her. Even though walls are coming down around Rebel Blue, Ada’s walls are firmly in place.

Can they make it through this project without giving in? Or will they both put their dreams on the line for a chance at love?

Review:

A interior designer recently freed from a bad relationship and looking to start on a new project finds herself in a bind when the very hot cowboy she made out with the night before turns out to be the very guy who hired her. Ada Hart is so over men, she wants to focus on restarting her career and finding herself again. So when she is given the opportunity to work with one of the largest ranches in Wyoming she takes it. Immediately upon arriving in the cute little town of Meadowlark she meets a handsome cowboy who has awaken something in her that died after her really bad marriage... so she kisses the stranger and runs away... only the very next day when she goes to meet her new boss for the project... it's the very same handsome cowboy, Weston Ryder. Weston Ryder is a happy guy who is finally getting to work on his dream project and to top it off the mystery woman who's captured his attention has reappeared in front of him. The only problem? She wants nothing to do with him. Weston is smitten with Ada from the first moment he met her and wants nothing more than to get closer to the woman who has consumed his every thought but she's determined to keep him at arm's length. Ada is afraid to let her walls down again, afraid that she'll fall for the wrong guy again and lose herself, but being around Weston and his charming and welcoming family has Ada thinking that maybe she has finally found a place for herself with people that get her. Can Ada find it in herself to open herself up to love again and finally stop running away or will she pack her bags and leave the moment the project is done? This was such a sweet and cute read. I adored how realistic both Ada and Weston's struggles were. Ada is dealing with healing after a really bad relationship and feeling insecure. Weston has depression but is at a point where he has found a routine to help him. Weston is so sweet and the perfect love interest for Ada. I really had a lot of fun with this and this is the perfect small town cowboy romance to read if you are looking for something sweet and cute to warm your heart.

*Thanks Netgalley and Random House Publishing Group - Random House, Dial Press Trade Paperback for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[augment-techs]

what i watched/read in january

Saint Maud: 5/5 Quite the parlor trick that I spent the whole buildup to actually seeing it believing it couldn't possibly be as psychologically intense and questionable as people were making it out to be and--what do you know? I was actually drawn in an surprised. Especially by the "demonic possession" and "angel wings" leading up to the final scene.

Grabbed: Poets & Writers on Sexual Assault, Empowerment, and Healing, ed. by Blanco, Moro, Moustaki, and Albo: 5/5 This was all very moving and left me with much to think about. It didn't just take points from the female pov, but also the male and--I think?--trans and nonbinary. The poetry in itself was a surprise, the essays and confessions something more what I was thinking of. It was hard to choose my favorites from the lot, but the poem by Michael O'Mara using Pink stands out the most.

Shades of Blue: Writers on Depression, Suicide, and Feeling Blue, ed. by Amy Ferris: 5/5 Okay, I'm not going to lie, I read through this entire book and while all of them were deeply meaningful, the one that stuck in my brain was the one that included a knock-knock joke-- "Knock knock/Who's There?/Boo./Boo who?/Just boo, you dope. You're a ghost." -by judywhite-- Which...is kind of horrible, and yet stupidly endearing?

Frankie Drake Mysteries, season 4: 4/5 Okay, I really, really, really wanted to love this season, which is apparently the last we're getting from this series, but, like, apparently they HAD warning that they weren't getting a fifth season, had time to wrap up most loose ends and STILL left us with this COMPLETE BULLSHIT ENDING?! WTF?

My Neighbor: Art Inspired by the Films of Miyazaki: 3/5 I mean, some of this was very good, but this was not at all what I was expecting and it was kind of a let down that I had to order this from out of state from my library. I thought this was an essay AND art collective.

Humans, by Brandon Stanton: 5/5 I'm always reading and rereading this, and it never gets old and is always giving me something new to notice and think about. On this particular reread, the photos and people that stood out the most were a small child in New York in a lion costume who was quoted saying, "There's nothing hard about being four;" then a group shot of two boys and a girl I think in the Middle East, one of the boys saying, "We let her pick," while all three smile, holding up a kite with Barbie on it; and then a picture of a man just sitting against a building with a really beautiful anecdote he gave about reading tarot cards to make a living in New York city wherein he believes in the card, but not in the way fortune tellers do, "I believe in them like you'd believe in a poem. I believe in their aesthetics."

Eat a Peach: a Memoir, by David Chang: 5/5 Being a chef and restaurant owner and believing in the work while also having mental illness. I haven't read this kind of memoir before from the Korean immigrant perspective and this went much better than I would have thought. Mostly because I did not expect this to be so FUNNY in some places. I thought it would be lyrical (which it was) or quite philosophic (which it was) but the book cover--which was beautiful--kind of made me think this would read like a Sisyphean tragedy. Which it really wasn't. And also some of his analogies--especially the one about a Hogwarts Culinary Dark Arts Class--are going to be stuck in my brain for a while.

Calling Doctor Laura: A Graphic Memoir, by Nicole Georges: 3/5 Oh to be a young queer woman at the turn of the century whose mother is almost certainly an untreated narcissist with BPD and whose girlfriend was most definitely cheating on her while she worked out trying to get the truth about her not-actually-dead father while sifting through very unpleasant memories of neglect and emotional abuse. Not a fan of the art style, but the story was at least honest.

Cheshire Crossing, by Andy Weir & Sarah Andersen: 5/5 TEN-THOUSAND blessings on writers who both admit to writing fanfiction on their opening introduction AND an art style where the cast was presented as 80% poc, INCLUDING Alice & Dorothy themselves, while presenting Wendy as queer. YES TO ALL OF THIS.

How to Be an Artist, by Jerry Saltz: 4/5 Actually a very good collective for advice and practice, though I might disagree with some of the rules...just...a bit.

The Wendy Project, by Osborne & Fish: 4/5 A story of young grief in the aftermath of an accident. A modern retelling of Peter Pan, but without the explanation of separating grief and breakdown from reality...such as it is. I was actually rather pleased to see the more "human" Peter ignored for the sake of the Wendy.

The Girl Who Married a Skull and Other African Stories: ratings run from 1/5 to 6/5 depending on the artist and story. My favorites of the lot were The Disobedient Daughter Who Married a Skull, by Nicole Chartland--which was beautiful and did NOT end in marriage, but did end in love--and Concerning the Hawk and the Owl, by Meredith McClaren--which was incredibly lovely and had very little NEED of words.

Kimi Can't Communicate vol. 16, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 Best parts about this would be: -Tadano playing the sports festival and getting crushed on HARD by Manbagi, Katai, and Komi. -Maeda, the school's top sprinter, having a thing for GILFs. -Suteno not giving Tadano a single thought and getting his headband taken without Tadano even blinking. -EVERYONE (bar Komi and Manbagi) feeding Tadano lunch. -The first time Tadano pats Komi on the head = KOMI WANTS MORE!! -Return to the Cat Café, complete with Manbagi getting a little pervert tomcat and Tadano once again pulling in the prettiest kitty in the area by being himself. -Shousuke and his Dad have a Father-Son day--and it becomes very obvious that Shousuke totally deserves Hitomi as the only curse he'll ever get. -Emoi Awards. -Tadano saves Manbagi's goldfish. -The whole voting process for the Culture Festival--once more, Komi is made to be the golden idol. -The Rehearsal of Najimi's play and The Cold-Blooded Princess. -It might be for the play, but Komi finally tells Tadano, "I like you."

The Vincent van Gogh overseas history DVD: 3/5 I suppose this is useful in terms of understanding and reference, but I didn't much care for the directing and editing style.

Big Trouble in Little China: 5/5 I FINALLY get to watch the movie with the women that have green eyes sacrificed to a dragon spirit in the name of a dark sorcerer cursed for over a thousand years in San Francisco. I haven't seen this movie since I was in kindergarten and should never have watched it to begin with. It is infinitely more entertaining and unpredictable than most anything coming out of the industry today. I had totally forgotten that Samantha from Sex and the City and Steve Stronghold from Sky High were acting here. I cannot believe John "Halloween" Carpenter directed this.

Disney's A Twisted Tale Anthology: -What if Snow White Learned Magic: 3/5 -What if Mulan became the Emperor's Advisor: 4/5 -What if Remy met Colette First: 5/5 -What if Anastasia had a change of Heart: 4/5 -What if Jim Hawkins joined the Pirates: 2/5 -What if history wasn't Quite Right about Robin Hood: 4/5 -What if Eric met Ariel after she rescued him: 3/5 -What if Tinkerbell was working for Captain Hook: 3/5 -What if Naveen had to get home to Maldonia: 5/5 -What if the Triplets visited the Witch: 3/5 -What if Madam Mim and Merlin wet to school together: 3/5 -What if Belle had to take her father's place at the fair: 3/5 -What if Hercules's first day as a god didn't go as planned: 2/5 -What if Bambi didn't want to be a Great Prince: 5/5 -What if Aurora knew about the curse: 4/5

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 15, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -Isagi is introduced with a HUGE arc to become Student Council President -Isagi has poor communication/OCD/Extreme germaphobia and touch aversion -Ase presents and comes through as Isagi's Truest Friend -Tadano sees Pretty Cat Komi -Yamai gets Komi to play Twister with her...in the school hallway...and passes out when she gets EXACTLY what she wants -Hitomi initiates a Shousuke/Ai + Hitomi & Yamada "date night" complete with coffee drinks, prize games (Hitomi won Ai a stuffed panda) and a movie at the theater -Ai had fun~ -Isagi plays Rock/Paper/Scissors/Hammer/Helmet against the entire class and WINS -Najimi insists on Isagi keeping the hammer (she's too good not to have it) -The previous Class President is utterly TERRIBLE at her job -The class take glamor shots together in an effort to get Isagi to smile for her election photo; but only managed to get a very on point shot of her menacing Najimi (which works better) -Isagi forgot to choose her campaign representative, but as usual, BLESS TADANO, "Don't worry about it. We don't care who you pick." -Isagi wins after a truly heartfelt speech from Ase. -Time for school physicals; Tadano is a half inch taller than Komi (who is SO GLAD) -Manbagi stresses about her crush on Tadano -Komi and Shousuke are forced by their mother to invite friends to dinner; Komi invited Manbagi, Ase, and Tadano...Shousuke ONLY invited Yamada, but Hitomi being Hitomi invited herself and Ai -Tadano gets to shine as the most polite person on the planet by being the ONLY PERSON at the table to say Yamada Sanjurokuro's name correctly (which may or may not lead to yet another crush on him; bringing his fan club up to, what, twelve now?)

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 14, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -The only thing that keeps sinking into my brain about this particular issue is the entire fair situation wherein Tadano, Komi, Manbagi, and Katai get sucked into working at Agari's aunt's food stall by Najimi. -Fushima continues to cheer on Katai/Tadano from the sidelines (and me along with her). -But the kicker is Manbagi finally warming up to Tadano and Hitomi & Onemine & Sasaki & Sato FREAKING OUT -Komi is just glad they get along -Hitomi is glad that Tadano continues to be Tadano and does not understand the concept of ANYONE having a crush on him. This precious boy.

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 13, by Oda Tomohito: 4/5 -It was fucking MAJESTIC to see Nakanaka playing around with an umbrella after sunset like a gun, running aground of the Four Monarchs, an out of town city woman playing dead when she said, "BANG!" to be polite--and her running away as fast as she could with the Monarchs finding the situation quite interesting but the woman on the ground wondering when she could get up again. -Najimi sets up a horror challenge at Katai's WITHOUT ASKING HIM--but it's fine. His friends are proud of him and he is so SOFT.

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 11, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -Summer vacation wherein the Komi and Tadano family end up at the same outdoor game park. -Hitomi continues to be Shousuke's unwanted but entirely necessary cheerleader. -Komi unlocks a kink by seeing the rim of Tadano's underwear. -Nakanaka/Yamai is VERY encouraged by Sukida (and myself as well). -The Four Monarchs are introduced to the class and it is SO fucking funny watching them fail to impress or scare ANYONE in this new class. Especially Tadano; it is so awesome.

3 Generations DVD: 4/5 A lesbian, poly, trans family making their way through the son's transition and the messy secrets the mother left behind in an effort to get written permission to start testosterone. I'm a little sad that the main actor wasn't actually trans but...Elle Fanning is still Elle Fanning, so the acting was *chef's kiss*.

Pawn Sacrifice DVD: 5/5 I already wanted to punch Bobby Fischer when he was alive for being both a genius and the biggest fucking asshole, but Toby Maguire was a fucking majestic BEAST in this piece illustrating opposite Liev Scheiber just HOW MUCH chess players during the Cold War did not inspire envy. Every actor in this film was a blessing, but DAMN, these two are awesome.

Little Panic: A Memoir, by Amanda Stern: 4/5 Oh, holy shit; I knew the 80s were terrible for women, but to have an anxiety disorder on top of a learning disorder in New York's East Village at the time was nothing short of just AWFUL.

The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance: A Memoir, by Elna Baker: 4/5 This is useful in being a funny and darkly honest commentary/critique of diet culture, New York single life, religion, growth, and cues into life in-between. But All the way through I could not help but feel a little bit irked by the author.

From Boys to Men, edit. by Ted Gideonse & Rob Williams: 5/5 My fourth time reading this and it gets better every single time--especially in that these are queer men of all ages, races, and types, and just feels NICE. -The Story I Told Myself, by Soehnlein: inventing the self through playing with the little people in your head to make some pretty awesome soap operas -Sleeping Eros, by McAllister: considerations on divorce and brotherhood and a father who might have also been gay -Preppies are my Weakness, by Dolby: the essay that basically promises that those you're attracted to at ages 14-17 are Your Type (interestingly, for those of my mutuals reading this; I kept picturing Billy Cranston and Jason Scott, even though Jason would NEVER treat Billy like that). -Barbie Girls, by E.K. Anderson: Mid-80s realizing the politics of "romance" at age 11 and meeting a kindred soul at summer camp -Signs, by R.C. Green: exploring sexuality from the POV of an inner city, poc athlete that had a LOT of anger and internalized homophobia -And much, much, MUCH more.

A Gift From a Ghost, by Borja Gonzalez: 6/5 This is such a beautiful graphic novel for the consideration of how the future is a reflection of the past and how the past has little touches of understanding the future. Possibly it is also a thought piece on reincarnation? Dimensions and time spotting? Either way, the choice for the characters to be faceless and wit the looks of very pretty mannequins while building up the surroundings and wardrobe was MAGNIFICENT.

Change the Game, by Kaepernick: 4/5: A graphic memoir about the growth of a black football player from a white family who would eventually take the knee in protest to racist, sexist, political lashings. Not my favorite art style, but I can appreciate the lighting and line technique.

Goodbye: A Story of Suicide of Hailee Joy Lamberth: 2/5 A good attempt at humanizing and rationalizing, but for me, personally, it was a little too bright, shiny, sanitized...And not to mention a bit self-indulgent.

The Books that Changed My Life, edit. by Bethanne Patrick: 5/5 I have my favorites in the writers and in the books they chose and in the essays they wrote on them. But Gillian Flynn, Margaret Atwood, Peter Coyote, and Sofia Coppola's choices were my favorites.

Komi Can't Communicate vol. 4, by Oda Tomohito: 5/5 -Komi and Tadano try and say each other's first name...and fail SPECTULARLY. -They swapped kitty keychains (a tabby and an ebony) -Inaka makes her first appearance in a Subway parody -Nakanaka/Yamai is establishing itself through Tadano trying to teach them "Komi Speak."

[dollarbin]

Sandy Saturdays #3:

It'll Take A Long Time

Sandy Denny never had a hit record. The only time her voice appeared on the singles chart she was singing in French, turning Dylan's Manfred-Mann-recorded creeper tale from 64 about where Bob's romantic partner is allowed to sleep, If You Gotta Go, Go Now, into an accordion driven novelty track.

I don't know about you but I'd rather have Sandy tell me where to sleep than Bob, especially given what Dylan's been accused of by a woman who was 12 year old at the time (google it if you must; it's the kinda story that makes the Dollar Bin shudder and quake, wondering if I should be writing about Care Bears or something equally benign instead).

Fairport Convention's awww shucks French language version, Si Tu Dois Partir, skyrocketed to #21 before the buying public moved on to everything else that happened in 1969. I don't imagine the single's Magical Mystery Gore cover art contributed much to sales.

Within six months Denny quit Fairport Convention. She'd never make the single chart again.

But she should have! If you want to get depressed, spend a little time researching the hit songs from 1972. Denny's not the only essential musician of the era who did not make it big; Van Morrison made his best (brace yourself, here comes a controversial opinion) record that year, Saint Dominic's Preview; its lead single Jackie Wilson Said topped out at #61 (but it was #1, thank goodness, in Ireland!). I think it's a cause for debate whether or not there are 60 better pop songs in history than that shakedown stomp a song. And Joni Mitchell's You Turn Me On, I'm a Radio barely fared any better that same year. But this piece of sorry shat sat at #1 for 6 weeks:

The song is a fitting soundtrack to every nightmare I've had about dental offices. (It's also kinda good, I guess, especially the part where he worries about his mother; someone outta comb Gilbert's chest hair for him and tell him everything will work out...).

Alone Again (Naturally) did lead to some good in the world, however: Biz Markie took the track and made real art out of it two decades later.

Maybe it's time for me to hunt for Biz in the Dollar Bin. He's on fire here. The poor guy needed a ride and didn't get one. Then it started snowing! Damn, I forgot about Biz Markie. He's awesome. And then there's this song. Biz Markie!!

Where were we? Oh yeah: Sandy Denny, 1972. Seriously, imagine if the graceful opening track from Sandy, her second solo record, entitled It'll Take a Long Time, with its orchestral swells and steady, shimmering glory, had not gone unnoticed that year. Imagine if it had dominated the charts instead of Alone Again.

Biz Markie would have then followed in Denny's footsteps, putting out his own version of her song entitled It'll Take A Long Time (For Biz To Sing This Song) 20 years later. And Sandy's estate would not have attempted to ruin hip hop in response (that's what Gilbert O'Chesthair did: he sued Markie and put the breaks on all the sweet sampling that was going on in early 90's hip hop, thereby shoving great bands like De La Soul into long term creative limbo). Rather, Sandy's estate would have reveled in the attention, spreading her amazing, largely forgotten music far and wide.

Just imagine a world in which everyone grew up knowing It'll Take a Long Time... Donald Trump never would have been our president. Who could like Denny's song and vote for anyone who preaches hate? Biz would have beat the Donald out in 2016, and served as our 2nd Black head of state, bringing peace, stability and voice cracking beats to the world over. Sure, Biz's untimely passing in 2021 would have been cause for global mourning, but his VP, Queen Latifah, would then be our current, first female and first queer, president and, as her first act of office, she would have put statues of Sandy and Biz up in place of some confederate nonsense.

It'll Take a Long, Long Time folks to clean up all the mess we're in. But we can get there.

[twistedtummies2]

The Price May Be Right - Number 6

Welcome to “The Price May Be Right!” I’ve been counting down My Top 31 Favorite Vincent Price Performances & Appearances! The countdown will cover movies, TV productions, and many more forms of media. Today we focus on Number 6: Roderick Usher, from House of Usher.

This was the first film of the Corman-Poe Cycle by AIP, and it’s still one of the best entries of the bunch. It was also – at least in film – the first time Vincent Price worked in a Poe-related project (as far as I’m aware). Naturally, the importance of this 1960 feature – both for Vincent, and for the recognition of Poe’s work in cinema – can hardly be exaggerated. And while the previous pick on the countdown, “The Pit and the Pendulum,” is in some ways superior to this venture…I personally think Vincent’s role and performance in this particular tale is even better than it was in the later picture. “House of Usher” is a more or less straightforward adaptation of Poe’s story “Fall of the House of Usher.” I say more or less because, while it generally follows the plot and even adapts the characters of Poe’s story in a generally faithful manner, there is one big difference to the tale: in the book, the main character (an unnamed narrator) is visiting the house as a friend to Roderick Usher. That is not the case in the movie: in the movie, our main character is one Philip Winthrop (played by Mark Damon), who comes to the titular mansion to seek the hand of his intended fiancé: Roderick’s brother, Madeline. For numerous reasons, however, Roderick refuses to let Madeline leave the house. He repeatedly tries to get Winthrop to leave, but Winthrop refuses to depart without his beloved, and Madeline pleads with Roderick to let him stay for at least a while. As Philip spends a few days in his fiance’s ancestral home, he soon discovers the horrible history of the Usher family. He must now try to get Madeline to leave, before the madness that seems to infect her lineage consumes her whole life… In many ways, the film bears several resemblances to the later “Pit and the Pendulum”: a young man coming to a spooky place full of secrets, trying to solve some kind of mystery and help a woman he is close to in some fashion. Similarly, in some ways, Price’s character of Don Medina in the later picture is similar to Roderick…but with one key difference. Don Medina is a victim as much as a villain; that cannot be said for Roderick Usher. Roderick is a classic case of what might be termed a sympathetic villain: like Don Medina, he is a tortured soul, teetering on the brink of madness due to personal problems. The difference is that Don Medina is someone trying to avoid the shadow, and who ultimately succumbs: Roderick is someone who has, on some level, already embraced the darkness. Indeed, that is perhaps the greatest tragedy of Roderick’s character: he’s someone who doesn’t WANT to be the bad guy, but feels he HAS to be. He says a couple of times that he holds no ill will toward Philip, and he is clearly highly devoted to his sister (at times to an unsettling degree), but he fears the results of what a marriage between her and Winthrop could lead to. His thoughts are plagued at all times by the supposed curse on his family line, and his life is one spent in constant torment, as he is afflicted with a strange condition that heightens his senses to a dangerous degree. He cannot bear to taste anything but bland gruel; he can’t stand to be touched because of how it hurts his skin; every sound is magnified for him to an alarming rate. You really do feel sorry for the guy, because he’s clearly a depressed wreck who feels he’s trapped in a gloomy world. What makes him the villain, ultimately, is his inability to accept that there could be a chance for others to have happiness he cannot. The extreme lengths he goes to in order to break off the romance are what truly make him the bad guy by the end. The other major difference between Roderick and Don Medina is the way they are performed. With Don Medina, Price gives an intense performance that brings his full “ham energy” out, but with Roderick, he delivers a much more delicate, subtle, and eerily methodical performance. Given the aforementioned affliction, Roderick is a character who works in a claustrophobic manner: his voice is soft and often kept at the same near-monotonous level, yet the little inflections and the ways Vincent plays with the syllables allow him to turn every word into masterful poetry. His expression I almost eternally set in a grim-faced scowl, yet the smallest changes to the eyes and mouth mean so much as a result. In the moments where Roderick’s full horror at the situations around him comes out – when he suddenly breaks through his own armor and shows the torment underneath – it becomes truly startling. He is in equal parts an extremely creepy and unnerving figure in the story, due to his appearance and his demeanor…and yet a tragic and pitiful character as well, as we realize he truly believes what he’s saying and doing is what is necessary, if not always right. Those are often among the most compelling antagonists, and this is no exception. It’s definitely a highlight for Vincent’s work with Poe. Tomorrow, the countdown continues into the Top 5!

[medeasgalpal]

oh i’ve been looking into connections between Scottish and Appalachian folklore and I just found a fun one.

***

the story told in northeastern Tennessee goes like this: one day, a young man goes out to the field to see after his family’s cows. in the midst of the cows is a young woman he’s never seen before. the cows seem to like her, and of course, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. he invites her home and she’s fed and given a place to stay at the farm. she offers to take care of the cows in return, an offer that is gratefully accepted. the mysterious woman becomes a beloved member of the household and eventually the larger community. she becomes known for her lively dancing. 

meanwhile, the young farmer is hyping himself up to ask her to marry him. once he finally works up the courage, he runs out to the field, looking for the girl. strangely, he doesn’t find her with the cows. he wanders further through the fields until they give way to forest. from the edge of the woods, he spots her. he calls out, but she doesn’t seem to notice him. there’s something strange about her. though her lips don’t move, there’s a song on the air. shadows are cast in a strange way, as if light was coming from further in the forest. her eyes are fixed in that direction. afraid, the young man leaps into the woods and grabs her shoulder. as he pulls her away, he catches a glimpse of her eyes, gone cold white. the music stops, the light fades. they return to the house.

the young woman never danced again after that day. she rarely spoke or smiled. no one ever found her in the woods again, but she would look off blankly towards the mountains. the young man got a job with the railroad and got married to a girl in town. once his parents passed away, the strange young woman kept the farm and the cows by herself.

***

I love this story for many reasons. it reminds me of Cowboy from Old Gods of Appalachia and the stories I grew up hearing about ghostly women hitchhiking who would disappear after you pick them up. but while I was reading about the more unusual Good Folks, I was surprised to hear that our cow loving spooky lady has a counterpart back in Scotland. 

“The gruagach haunts the fields and pastures, and is usually seen as female, with the exception of Skye where the gruagach there is described as male. Either way, the name ‘gruagach‘ comes from the long hair, whether referring to male or female – the term itself means ‘long-haired one.’ In terms of referring to men, it was common at one time for those who were of free or high rank in Scotland to have long hair, and on Skye he is referred to as being tall, wearing the dress of a ‘bygone period’ and having long yellow hair.124

The sole remit of the gruagach is in looking after the herds of cattle. If offerings of milk are faithfully made to her (or him, if we’re talking about Skye), she will happily look after the cattle at night and ensure that no harm comes to them. The milk should be given to to the clach na gruagaich, ‘the gruagach stone’, which is often described as a stone with a hole of depression in it. 

Carmichael tells us: “In making the oblation the woman intoned a rune:

A ghruagach, a ghruagach,

Cum suas mo spreidhe,

Cum sios an Guaigean,

Cum uap an Geige.Brownie/ 

Brownie,

Uphold my herds,

Keep down the ‘Guaigean,

’Keep from them the ‘Geige’.”125

This was done by the dairymaid on a weekly basis according to Reverend MacQueen, writing in 1774, every Sunday,126 and failure to do so would lead to disaster. On Skye, where the gruagach was seen as male, he was often blamed for the unfortunate circumstances of many an unwed mother, up until the late seventeenth century, at least.127″

it’s well known that the folklore of Appalachia is influenced by the Irish and Scottish settlers who wound up here, but I feel like it’s hard to find stories where that connection is as clearly seen as this one. I’m also obsessed with the idea of an Otherworldly being who just wants to take care of your cows. I was only really aware of the under-the-hill courtly sorts of Good Folk, but there’s many more. highly recommend checking out the Tairis site linked above, it’s got some really well-researched information about Scottish folk practices.

[memwazz]

MASTERPOST - Short summaries of all my Original Stories and links to their own dedicated Masterposts

SEVEN : DIVISION UNITED

This story is the one I currently focus on.

It follows the Seventh Division, a dysfunctional superheroes team protecting a fictive, slightly futuristic version of the USA ruled by a martial law. Most of the plot revolves around them and the teenage MC Erwan fighting different antagonists with or without special abilities, while trying to handle their chaotic daily life together.

Created circa 2019.

B-CLASS

B-Class is the only project I've completed so far, taking the form of two French novels and their spin-off.

The setting is a contemporary dystopia with a cast system discriminating and exploiting a group of people called the "B-Class". The main character Icare is a privileged journalist from the A who will change its viewpoint on oppression after falling in love with his own domestic slave Riùn. Then comes Abys the ACAB Boy and they all start a revolution 🔥

Very very queer and politic.

Created circa 2017 and completed in March 2018.

[B-CLASS Related] POUR UN RAYON DE SOLEIL

The spin-off I mentioned above focuses on Icare's past relationship with Ryse, a major antagonist in B-Class.

They used to date 5 years before the story and PURS explains how Icare became depressed and suic!d@l after a whole year of abuse.

Created and completed between November and July 2018.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE

This one has a special place in my heart since it's the first story I've ever created back in middle-school. Many things changed in 10 years but it still tells the journey of Daniil who rebels against and has to run away from his former boss.

At the beginning, Daniil works as a bodyguard for an important member of a criminal organization; but he loses his temper and tries to unalive him when he discovers Akito murd€red his late girlfriend 3 years before. And then they both chase and try to k!ll each other 🤷

May include shit like war flashbacks and Japanese mafia idk

Created circa 2012.

DE A à Z

Zephyr and Adriel are two angels who've lived as a couple in Heaven for thousands of years.

But when Babel, an artificial angel, is created by humans and sent to Heaven to communicate with God, everything collapses. Babel manages to kill God and takes Their place to impose his vision of right and wrong, influenced by the humans' misinterpretation of the Bible. From then on, all romantic and sexual relationships are forbidden, forcing the couple to hide.

When Babel discovers Adriel's love letters, he is kicked out of Heaven and has to find allies on Earth to overthrow Babel and get his lover back.

Created circa 2019.

42

42 tells the story of Mat, a young woman searching for Sara, her little sister who disappeared years ago. Her investigations lead her to "Number 42", a man who just escaped from a lab experimenting on humans. Since Mat's sister seems to be prisoner from the lab as well, the two of them helped by the amoral Director's oldest son, will try to save Sara and 42 himself.

Created circa 2015.

MINIUM Part. 1

This one is pure heroic fantasy; its universe and lore are my most extended so far.

Gailin, the adoptive son of Kel'Daran's king, passed a deal with him and has to save Kel'Daran from the Selv, an humanoid species invading the Kingdom. A mystic prophecy tells the war can't be won without a half-blooded Selv with mysterious powers.

Due to coincidences and quiproquos, Gailin is manipulated by Aldanys, a teenage thief who pretends she's the Chosen One.

Created circa 2015.

MINIUM Part. 2

According to my writing plan, Minium is supposed to have a second part taking place 5 years after the first one.

After Gailin killed his father/king at the end of Minium 1, he is exiled and his mentor Edelia takes Kel'Daran's throne. When a new war is suddenly started against the kingdom, Edelia realises someone she thought had died wants her dead too.

On the other side of the plot, another protagonist named Lavaan predicts a major antagonist's return through weird prophetic dreams.

Created circa 2017.

[Minium Related] ST-ANRIEL

In Minium, Gailin and elves his kind believe in an entity named Altea and the Gods they gave birth to.

The Anriel is the equivalence of their Holy Bible and tells the story of the Gods and how the world was built from the beginning to the end. It takes the form of an anthology of poems and prayers.

Created circa 2017.

[MINIUM Related] JADE ET MOI

Another Minium spin-off, focusing this time on Osvald's coming out and transition as a trans man. The story takes place on sea as "Jade"/Osvald starts his journey as a pirate after running away from home.

Created circa 2018.

[MINIUM Related] GOLDEN-EYED BEAST

GEB is a Minium spin-off telling the backstory of Lavaan, a 12 years old protagonist. Born with a golden eye in a village who fears this feature after a terrible incident with a cruel golden-eyed enemy, he is treated as an outcast since his childhood.

His life changes when Kalras, a mysterious elf with black magic, destroys his village and murders everyone. Being the only survivor, Lavaan is made prisoner and tortured by Kalras but develops a Stockholm Syndrom and falls in love with him.

From then on, Kalras who turns out to be a cult leader, uses him as a slave a pet in a toxic relationship.

Created circa 2017.

[MINIUM Related] LA SAISON DES BOURGEONS

In Minium, Edelia has a little brother named Veidin who cursed himself to save her as a child. The curse caused him chronic pain, blood, heart and bones fragility and he's doomed to a very short life expectancy.

LSDB tells his love story with Jyëlven, another young man who was cursed and has flowers and thorns growing out of his skin.

Created circa 2017.

[MINIUM Related] THE WARMTH OF OUR COLD LANDS

Just like for the Anriel, Genkhìs will have their own religious texts written.

Inspired by vikings, the people of Genkhàr honour Gods similar to Scandinavians. Each one represents a value, the most worshipped one being Ero, God of Bravery.

Created circa 2017.

ODE TO ODD

My first and only story ever to look like a shonen anime lol--

One of the main characters Naemi is a highschooler with anxiety who just wants to live an ordinary and peaceful life.

But her goth and spiritism-obsessed best friend Sayaka accidentally summons Evelgard, a young necromancer in her living-room. Evelgard decides to befriend her and live in her closet, while trying to open a portal to the World of the Dead to save his late sister's soul. The two girls discover a whole new world after meeting necromancers, exorcists, witches and demons.

Created circa 2016.

SACRED DUST

Another heroic fantasy setting, but this universe is different from Minium's !

In this story, each kingdom worships a God-dess supposed to grant it their protection. When Lidala, the Goddess of Telaman, is murdered by a rival God, she turns to dust and leaves a devastated kingdom behind.

Fortunately, one of her ashes gives birth to a child, Saljän, who soon has to become the priest of Telaman. Aged 16, Saljän hates his responsibilities so much he finally runaways and travels around the world with a little demon named Orgos. Their goal is to gather all the Sacred Dusts to resurrect Lidala before it's too late.

Created circa 2016.

BAD ROMANCE

How to define Bad Romance without telling it's my most fucked-up story ? You can't. The two main characters are such assholes I can't name a protagonist, they're both antagonists.

Derek, a criminal, gangster and drug abuser, kidnaps Jay who sent him to jail 8 years before the story. He aims at mistreating him enough for Jay to kill himself, but he soon discovers that this guy who seems to live an ordinary and boring life is as much of a sociopath as him.

They start making each other's life hell then become addicted to each other, fuck, engage in a toxic relationship and even create a gang together at the end of the plot.

Created circa 2017.

LE ROYAUME DE GAHS

My first attempt to deal with astronomy eventhough I don't understand anything about it-

The story takes place in the sky and is about two stars and their father trying to discover why the Cosmic God decided to kill/destroy all the stars. Meanwhile, there seems to be a perturbation in the cosmos and some shooting stars start turning evil for no apparent reason...

Created circa 2024.

WE ARE THE WILD

The Lion King but with wolves, mixed with Prince of Persia and the COVID-19 pandemic before it existed--

The plot follows Sôkah, a 15 years old werewolf and the son of the Alpha, who's accused of murdering his big brother. The responsible is actually Akbar, his father's counselor who evicted the two sons to take his place when he dies.

Sôkah is banished from the pack and wandering in the forest, discovers the human world. Most humans are dying from a deadly virus nicknamed "white plague", and Sôkah gets rescued by the cousins Ludwig and Weiss. Weiss is a scientist who tries to find a cure to save Ludwig who caught the white plague, and soon discovers werewolves are immune to the disease...

Created circa 2018.

STAR-716

This story's plot is not very developed and I don't know much what will happen through it. But it's once again about someone looking for a missing family member, a mother this time.

Sacha is 13 and grew up in a circus, his mother being a dancer there. But she disappeared a year before (probably after a kidnapping) and Sacha doesn't know where to start his researches. He will be helped by Novak, an irresponsible sex-worker and hopeless romantic who fell in desperate love with the mother after sleeping with her once.

Created circa 2016.

DIMENSION OF DESPAIR

Are you surprised if I tell you this one is about another dimension ? No ?

Well, the MC Megane is a single mother who works hard to raise her 4 years old alone. One day, she wakes up in an unknown dimension ruled by Master, a mysterious person with psychic powers who created the dimension with their own mind.

Turns out it's actually a "harem" where Master gathers people and things he loves or wants. Megane will look for a way to escape and save a little girl named Kadd as well as Zoé, Master's "favorite".

Created circa 2018.

UNTIL SEPTEMBER

A more simple and less fucked-up story, I swear !!

Some sort of teenage literature, Until September focused around Nero, who's having hard times as a bullied 9th grader and discovers he has water powers. From then on, he befriends the other elementaries and has to deal with Hilda, the air elementary who wants to sacrifice all the children to create a Philosopher's Stone.

Created circa 2021.

SCARECREW

Another under-developed lore !

It's a basic apocalyptic/zombie novel with a disease turning all the adults into monsters. A bunch of pre-teens who survived and don't even know each other decide to fight together against the threat and to rebuild their own world.

Created circa 2020.

VIC'TEAM

Mostly shitpost, I don't want to turn it into a novel but more like a bunch of comic strips.

It follows the daily life adventures of highschoolers with teenagers problems like love, exams and family with a comedic tone. The MC's main problem is to be named Volvic (nicknamed Vic) and there are a lot of jokes about it, as well as absurd humor.

Created circa 2016-17.

Undeveloped shit with OCs waiting for their twisted up plot

Yeah, I love creating OCs and some of them have a background and design but no story for the moment. I'll just put them here and share random facts about them.

[PERSONAL DAILY LIFE SHITPOST] The ABSOLUTELY UNCHILLING Adventures of a Smol Angry Emo Birb

The parenthesis speaks for itself, I'll gather a few billets or illustrated jokes about funny things happening in my life.