#gotta go *lets make the audience wonder if they want to fuck this horror*

[queerslovehorror]

a true horror creator has to be a bit horny about the horror they're creating -- shelley, carter, barker, del toro, they get it

[clay-tries-his-best]

! atsv spoilers !

when i sat down in my theatre seat to see atsv im telling you i was being the most autistic fuck you've ever witnessed. you could practically see the sparkles in my eye, dude.

the spot. my godddd he's so silly. the marketing ploy to make him seem like the side villain from the trailers was so fucking smart. I really thought that Miguel was going to be the main villain considering him fighting miles in pracgjcalky every trailer ever and being in the post-credits scene of itsv. and miles dealing with having to be everywhere at once was very realistic and gave me the classic "oh my god this poor boy this is painful to watch". oh and gwen's beginning scene of the drums just gave me the feeling that the movie was going to be fantastic. like, betrayal, amazing visuals, more gwen?? already a wonderful start. also the fact that the spot's whole reason to turn into a major villain is that nobody, not even the person who caused his disfigurement, would take him seriously- like- HUH???? perfect. wonderful. bro just wanted miles to pay attention to him for a little while.

Pavitr and Hobie were also really great additions to the spider team. Despite the fact that Hobie's accent was so thick and deep that I couldn't understand what he was saying a good third of the time, he still managed to work his way into my top 5 characters of the movie. THAT is good character building. At first I thought he was going to be the stereotypical love rival, considering his first mention was miles getting jealous of him and gwen being friends. I was worried that was how the story was actually going to go when he upstaged miles by breaking done the collider force field, but hes actually a really chill and cool guy. pretty sure he even roots for gwen and miles, so that's pretty funny. Pavitr was also super funny with a great character design. " Chai means tea, you're just saying tea tea! " was probably one of my favorite lines / jokes from the whole movie. His world was also very pretty and SUPER detailed. Props to every artist for Mumbatten.

Miguel and Peter B.'s dynamic was really fun to watch as well. This cryptic emo ass mastermind vampire who has watched people die and destroyed a universe next to this middle aged man in a pink fuzzy bathrobe who's oogling over his daughter. also, the line where Miguel said " I've had the right amount of you today " to peter b instead of " I've had enough of you " like the normal saying goes was kinda queer. just saying. but yeah, great villain, and I do want to see him in the final battle against spot, but I eventually don't want him to be the one to beat spot, y'know? If it was to be anyone, it's obviously going to be miles. Whether it's just miles or miles and gwen or miles and the gang gwen assembled at the end of atsv (WHICH HAD SPIDERNOIR YESSS SPIDERNOIR FANS LETS GOOOOOOO I HAD THE STUPIDEST SMILE ON MY FACE WHEN I SAW HIM IM TELLKNG YOU), in the end it's still gotta be miles.

the collider scene with the spot was really cool. spot may be silly, but he's not dumb enough to be " saved " by his archnemesis who only cared about him when he was about to become a transdimensional eldritch horror. boss move. his final form was really pleasing to look at because you can just see the detail that went into it. Looking at some screenshots, I noticed there were a lot of eyes and I'm pretty sure I saw a version of spiderman (original world 1610 peter, possibly?) staring at miles / the audience. despite him not showing up for another hour, hour and a half, I wasn't mad. If a movie can avoid showing the main villain for that long and still have them integrated properly, just, wow. blown away. oh and this part made me even more interested because his beginning ost, spot 1, I think? his random beats and tunes sounded more silly and disorganized and clumsy, like him trying to take the atm. near the end, he got spot 2, which was more shrill and frightening. I'm not musically trained, and I could still tell that it was scarier, and to me, they sounded very similar. To not have too far of a difference between the two and stroke two entirely different chords is just. ugh. wow.

don't even get me started on prowler miles... RAHHH THE CHARACTER AND WORLD DESIGN FOR UNIVERSE 42!!!! it was so beautiful and scary and breathtaking because there is. no. spiderman. when miles's mom didn't know what he was talking about and gwen wasn't really outside, it hit me like a brick in the head. and alternate aaron??? hello??? he made me physically uncomfortable because of how terrifying his face was. i couldnt even tell if he was wearing makeup or he was just that dramatjcally shaded. the turn miles does to see that it was his dad painted on the wall instead of aaron.... GRAHHHHHH

as an aspiring artist, I can say nothing but wow. that movie, the fact that it was 2 HOURS AND 20 MINUTES???? HELLO??? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WORK THAT MUSTVE TOOK??? unbelievable. and you know that sony felt bad for making us wait on a cliffhanger, so they probably were around 3/4 done with atsv and started working on beyond, so we didn't have to wait as long as we would've if they finished atsv and then started beyond. I'm so glad that those 5 years in the Sony team paid off, because that. was. amazing. my depression is vaporized. im going feral, going wild, going insane. i will not think of anything else until beyond is out. can't wait to see my bbg spot have his villain moment in March 2024!!! <333

[simplylove101]

HORROR MOVIE CHALLENGE 2022 FAVES, HONORABLE MENTIONS & LEAST FAVES (AND THE ONES I COULDN'T FINISH)

Another year, another successful horror watch challenge finished. And with that comes my also annual tradition of looking back on the movies I watched and picking my faves and least faves. I was able to choose my faves a lot clearer this year I think, it was the least faves that took some narrowing down a bit.

As always I never make this list in order of preference. It's just going down the order of me watching them, but you can probably tell the ones I liked best from my enthusiasm talking about them. Anyway, let's start this thing.

FAVE WATCHES:

Scream - Now, this is more of a pity add tbh (it really should be in the Honorable Mentions section max truthfully) because I love the Scream movies. Anyone who knows me should know that. It's not the best one of the series but I had fun with it still. I just wish they would get creative with the formula at least just once cuz man ugh. Thank goodness for the OGs, even tho I enjoyed some of the newer kids, because I personally could not stand Melissa Barrera's lead character. It's a shame we're not getting Neve in this next sequel but trust, I will still be watching. At least we're getting Hayden back as Kirby so there's that. Please don't kill her off immediately!! She's too smart for that.

2. X - Anyone who may have actually kept up with me doing this challenge (are there actually people who do? From the likes I get on some of these posts, maybe), they'll know that I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I enjoyed this movie. It wasn't so much groundbreaking as it just was fun to watch. Mia Goth was a compelling enough lead with an ensemble cast full of familiar faces that had me invested to watch. It was the first fully successful watch of the challenge for me, which is great because that's usually when it really kicks into gear.

3. Titane - Say what you want about this movie, but after you watch it, you're not gonna be able to forget about it. The visuals, that plot, the acting. It's all a super wild ride that delivered on its "the most fucked up movie ever made" promise from its trailer. It may be unwatchable to some but like, this was truly memorable if anything. I know my work friend who loved it is gonna be proud that it made its way onto the Faves list. lol Also, gotta note, that poster is totally stunning.

4. Last Night in Soho - It has flaws for some people, but I honestly think it's a well-made movie with wonderful visuals, acting, and music. The whole aesthetic is just great. It's a spectacle with an ending that may leave the audience feeling divided. Regardless, I liked this and knew once I finished watching that it would totally make its way on this list.

5. Fall - This gets to be on the Faves list because even if it has its flaws or whatever, I really did end up pulling for the girls making this. Ginny (Virginia Gardner) from Runaways was the more compelling lead for me personally but overall, this worked because of the friendship at the core of it. It's a situational fear kinda horror movie so you have to be able to put yourself in their shoes to care. The way it was filmed made it really easy to I think. Def had me squirming in my seat so it earned its spot I think.

6. Orphan: First Kill - Now, was this on par with the original? No. Truthfully, not really. But I still had fun with it. So, it gets to have its spot on this list. Isabelle Fuhrman still kills it as Esther, despite the years in between this and the first movie. And Julia Stiles got to have fun with her role. Definitely full of flaws but that's part of its charm for me I think. Yes, I'll watch a third movie if they're really planning to do it cuz why not? lol

7. Bodies Bodies Bodies - I don't care what anyone says, I loved this movie. Horror comedies are my genre. Always will be. This was a solid one for me. Rachel Sennott definitely steals the show as Alice I think, but overall, the cast all gelled for me. Yes, even Pete. lol As I said in my post for it, my eyes stayed glued the whole time, which I think says a lot as far as I'm concerned for this challenge so props to everyone involved making this movie.

8. Prey - I liked this. It worked for me. Yes, another movie with a strong performance from a woman lead. It was a great year for women in horror as far as I'm concerned. Amber Midthunder was great in her role. The action sequences were really done well imo. I felt the tension. One of these days I'll actually watch the original Predator movies (yeah, I know lol) and this made me want to honestly so I can see how that original one holds up. Either way, I think this movie deserves its praise.

9. The Sadness - I'll admit, I'm surprised I'm putting it on my Faves list but out of the movies that originally made up the Honorable Mentions list before wanting to cut one (since I generally want to keep that to 5 movies or so), this is the one that I remember all too well how I was feeling when I watched this thing. It felt like an event. Not the most pleasant of ones, but it truly did. A total rollercoaster of emotions with a batshit craziness to it. It's a hard movie to recc but as far as zombie movies go, it's gonna be hard to forget by the usual standards because of just how depraved it gets. So buckle up if you end up checking it out.

10. Pearl - Aside from X and Nope, I think this movie was the big event of the challenge for me. I watched X, liked it, saw they were coming out with a prequel, and I waited eagerly until I could watch it. And well, Mia Goth killed it as far as I'm concerned. It is not a movie without its flaws. She may have went a little too dramatic at parts perhaps, (and maybe the big monologue could have been trimmed a bit) but girl left it all on the table with her performance. The story is simple but gives us just enough insight to really get Pearl's backstory. It's a non-typical slasher that is a character study first that mostly works for me honestly. Ti West has a style that is distinctly his and I appreciated his homages here. I can't wait for that third movie!!!

11. [Rec] - I liked this movie quite a bit. Found footage done right as far as I'm concerned. Certainly a rollercoaster once it gets going. The ending is totally stressful to watch imo. I may end up watching the sequels someday just because. We'll see. Regardless, I'm glad I finally watched this one. Lived up to the hype.

12. House of the Devil - Now, this is the Ti West movie that a lot of people may not have heard of before but I do think it's worth checking out if you like his filmography to see his journey as a director. Once again, a slow burner that pays homage to the horror movies that have come before. It's nothing that is reinventing the wheel but it's solid imo. I was rooting for Samantha to make it out of this thing alive. Loved seeing some familiar faces in there as well.

13. Saint Maud's - I don't know if I anticipated this being placed on the Faves list initially but I can't forget that lead performance by Morfydd Clark. She was just so good in her role. The visuals throughout were great and there was a chilling aesthetic the whole time. That ending was just plain bonkers. Can't help putting it on this list.

14. Nope - Now, despite this movie maybe not totally living up to my expectations (blame Jordan Peele's track record of blowing my mind with his stories), I gotta put it on the Faves list. Visually, this was an event. The cast was too good. I was invested. I can also appreciate the fact that Jordan went against the audience's expectations as well. I'm just glad this man is making movies for the horror genre honestly. Can't wait to see what he comes up with next.

15. Barbarian - I am so glad that I waited to watch this on Halloween because even if my watches after it never went quite on par with this movie's experience, it was a great way to end the challenge this year. I knew while watching it that it was gonna be on this list for sure. Great cast, solid script, nice direction. Idk what else to say but I personally enjoyed it.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Watcher - This originally seemed like it might make its way onto the Faves early on because I wasn't sure how many watches I was going to like this year. It was a hit or miss with some as always. It feels like a tradition now that I have to watch a Maika Monroe horror movie at some point during a challenge, and this year I got to watch two. This was the better one for me. I felt her fear. The aesthetic was stylish. It was a simple movie with a big finish. A pleasant surprise. Also, I really love that poster.

2. Fresh - I think if I had liked this movie a little bit more it could have gotten on the Faves list instead of the Honorable Mentions but I do still think it was a good movie. Daisy was wonderful. Liked that her character did what she had to do to get out of her situation. So, she definitely made it easy to root for Noa.

3. Society - With an ending that is quite frankly one of the grossiest things I've ever seen on screen, I can't help but think this movie still deserves this spot. Definitely not leaving the memory bank any time soon. Very wild. Probably could have been stronger narratively but it does ask some interesting questions that may make you think. The effects are impressive for sure. It's gonna make you uncomfortable but if you're into that sort of thing (I didn't think I was but okay lol), it's kinda worth it??

4. We Are Still Here - When I was watching this, I don't think I expected to put it on the Faves or even this list but the more I think on it, I kinda liked it. I watched it for Barbara Crampton but as a slow burner, it did work enough for me. There's plot things keeping me from being able to put it on the Faves level, but considering it took me a minute to get invested while watching, it's impressive that it's on at least this one. But the overall feel and the acting makes it feel deserved so there's that.

5. May & Sissy - As always I was having a hard time picking my last spot for this because even though these movies may have their flaws, I can't help looking back on both of these performances. Both were great and honestly, their narratives are quite similiar. At the core of it, it's a story centered on a socially awkward woman who just wants to be accepted by others, and yet, you can tell that's still not enough for them. They need more. These movies start as character studies that gradually become slashers. Not too much different from Pearl tbh. I preferred that movie to these, but both still are worth watching imo. Tho more May I'd say probably, but I love Aisha Dee as an actress so I had to add Sissy here. lol

LEAST FAVE WATCHES

The Rental - Now while not completely awful, this was not a great second watch for the challenge because, despite a stellar cast, I was not invested at all. The characters were not likable, even poor Jeremy Allen White's because the writing makes him pitiful imo. As a directorial debut by Dave Franco, I think it showed promise for him if he chooses to make more movies in the future. But I gotta put it on the list because I was really disappointed with how average it was with the talent involved with it. The ending just made me think what was the point of the whole thing if we're not invested with the characters at all.

2. Old - I remember this movie making me mad. lol Like, I just didn't like it at all. I even went into it knowing that I would most likely be disappointed, and yet, with this challenge sometimes I feel like I need to actually watch these things to know I'm right. The concept was intriguing but the execution was not good imo. The plot holes!! M. Night Shyamalan is a hit or miss with his movies tbh and I tried to go into it with an open mind knowing that fact. At least if I had been having fun watching it I could have excused it, but even with the notable faces in there, I just couldn't enjoy it. Sorry, you can't help how you feel about movies sometimes.

3. Who Invited Them - This felt like such a non-horror movie for too long to even be called a slow burner imo. Because it focused on the couple's problems too much instead of creating actual tension to make us worried if they were gonna survive or not. And then when the horror element came in, it came in too quickly like it was tacked on so they could deem it a horror movie. And the ending is plothole central. I can't. Overall, it was boring. Shudder originals are such a hit-or miss tbh.

4. Antichrist - This shit was kinda wild but had me so confused. lol I get it's an arthouse film at the end of the day but it's clearly not meant for me. I commend Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg for their performances, that's the best part along with the cinematography. The whole thing was quite a fever dream. I still can't believe the way they chose to depict that opening scene. Still a major WTF. But I guess I won't forget it. lol

5. They/Them - As a horror movie, this was not good imo. It totally forgets it's a horror movie until near the end. The killer aspect feels tacked on. There really does need to be more LGBTQ rep in horror, that is a given. This was a great opportunity for that with a cast showing wonderful potential but the execution is what I can't get over. But as I've said before in my post, with a concept like this, if you take away the masked killer aspect, you had a good movie in there, save for some cringey moments (particularly that scene where they sing Pink a little way too long for my taste personally) I wanted to give this a chance, despite the super bad rating, but I was disappointed.

6. Umma - I wanted to like this so bad for Sandra Oh because she's truly superb and Fivel Stewart gave her nice support but this turned out to be a snoozer. I really tried but I gotta agree with the haters cuz this was not worth checking out sadly. Unfortunately, the bad IMDB rating was earned. It should have been so much better than it was. No tension and way too many jumpscares are a horrible combo. Those two things for me are a no-no.

7. The Keep - Now, while the actual demon was cringey for me even by 80's standards, I wouldn't have necessarily put this movie on this particular list for that reason alone if it had at least made sense narratively. But it didn't. Too many plot points missing. But I won't blame Michael Mann on this since we never got the full vision. Let's blame the studio heads for not at least letting us see if it would have been clearer with that extra footage needed. Because you can tell it was meant to be this big epic that sadly isn't coherent as it should be without it. But hey, there were some good actors in there so that was cool.

8. Queen of the Damned - Honestly, this movie would have benefitted from having even more Aaliyah in it because she was my favorite part of the whole thing. I appreciated how she just went for it. And she was stunning as ever. Still sad we lost her way too soon. Otherwise, I could have gone without ever watching this movie. Lestat should not have been the main focus, I'm sorry. Stuart Townsend tried but I just feel like he never embodied that character the way he was meant to. The story was weak. As I said, aside from watching Aaliyah, the music is the very best thing about it so there's that. lol

9. Possession - I really wanted to add one of the movie posters because at least that was cool but stupid Tumblr with their stupid 30-image limit in posts like these. Oh well. As I already said in my post for it, I was very disappointed with this and was also very confused. The scream matches throughout got super old quickly. I barely felt invested at all. Isabelle Adjani & Sam Neill were giving it all they had but that doesn't change the fact that it was overly dramatic at parts. I couldn't even tell if it was trying to be campy. I promise I tried to give it a chance but from the very beginning, I had a feeling this was going to be on this list.

10. Halloween Ends - Honestly, it pains me that this had be added to this list after Halloween Kills had been on it for last year's but well... Sorry, this just does not feel like this is how the trilogy was supposed to end. You do not center a final movie around a new character that you're banking an audience to get invested in. Rohan Campbell did the best he could acting-wise, I am not knocking him for that. But everyone knows this was supposed to be about Laurie vs. Michael. I don't care how anyone tries to spin it, that's just a fact. At the very least, that was the expectation. And on top of that, after diving into almost complete parody in Kills, they went almost too serious with this one. Where was the fun? I'll admit the opening and the ending stood out as I'm sure they were hoping for, but that middle... I'm just so torn about everything involving this movie I guess. lol It could have been so much better. I don't know what else to say. For some people Halloween III would probably be in this spot over Halloween Ends, but nope. Even with that movie's flaws, it's not really pretending to be anything other than what it is so I'm not gonna put it here.

(The only reason why Knock Knock didn't make it on this list was because it was meant as a hate watch and I never expected it to be a fave or change my mind what it was going to be. Also, I really wanted to keep the list to just 10 this year. Antlers almost made it on here as well.)

COULDN'T FINISH (new section just cuz lol)

Broadcast Signal Intrusion - Sorry Harry Shum Jr. I tried so hard to watch this one for you, and I almost made it to the end but I was soooo bored and confused. At one point, it had gotten my full attention, and then immediately lost it before I ended up calling it quits. Just was not for me I guess.

2. Choose or Die - I struggle watched this for like 15 minutes max before turning it off because I could tell instantly that this was not going to be my cup of tea. And I do not regret that decision at all. The second I saw how gory it was going to be with a plot that did not have me, I knew it was time to tune out. My work friend who is usually more game for these kinda concepts was not feeling it either so that makes me feel even better about that decision. lol

3. The Killing of a Sacred Deer - I started this and did not get too far with it because something about it just felt a little too... pretentious?? Idk. I like both the leads as actors so I wanted to check it out. But I couldn't get into it. I know based on that IMDB rating that it clearly has some fans so maybe I can check it out again in the future but this definitely turned out to not be that year I guess. heh

There were probably a few more movies that I could have listed for that last category but these are the ones I remember off the top of my head. These lists are always really hard for me to put together because let's face it, I'm no movie critic. I don't pretend to be but I have particular taste. I try to keep an open mind and I have fun with this challenge. And I like ranting about my watches at the end here. lol Anyway, another challenge done. Here's to next year!

[astaroth1357]

Unpacking the Angel Event (Through My Own Perspective)

Okay so uh… this was a very uncomfortable seat the Devs have offered us today and like all things that give me moral uncomfiness, I HAVE to analyze it. Blame the ethics classes. A full disclaimer, this is not spoiler-free and is pretty much entirely just me unpacking my own feelings here. What may bother or not bother me could really affect you and there is nothing wrong with that. You are entitled to your own perspective. This is just me trying to walk through all the stuff in this event that just… rubbed me the wrong way. So let's get to it.

The Costumes

So. Let's start at the beginning. Diavolo apparently had the bright idea to put everybody in magical costumes of their angel forms (or something like it in Satan's case). This is… problematic.

The reason the brothers lost their angel forms was because they fell after the Celestial War… who's greatest causality (in their eyes) was their sister, Lilith. So one could imagine that their memories as angels aren't particularly happy ones… By this point in the "continuity" (this is Post-Attic, more on that later), they would have known that Lilith didn't actually die which may soften something like this a little. I dunno, I'm not one of them and trauma is uniquely personal to the individual, but the bigger issue is that Diavolo thought this was a good idea to start with to which I say! - I'm not at all surprised by that. Hear me out.

Diavolo is heavily implied to have had a huge ass crush on Angel Lucifer. He's also uh… probably a little sheltered (as sheltered as the royalty of Hell can be) and probably not used to think of his subjects' feelings on the things he does before he just does them. This is fairly evident in other events where he'll order the brothers to do XYZ task even if they want no part in it. It doesn't surprise me at all that Diavolo would want to see them (Lucifer) as angels again and not take into account how that could affect them. I don't think that'd be malice on his part, just shortsightedness, and he likely would have apologized if any of the brothers expressed an emotional problem with it to him directly.

Do they have problems? Yes. But since the event kind of wipes them of their true selves, that's better discussed elsewhere. Moving on.

The Bangles 

Holy fuck, how do we even approach this? So Simeon, in conjunction with Michael (probably, at this point I have to wonder if he's telling the truth about this) gives the brothers jewelry, presumably to wear to the party, that would… I'm not even sure. Curb their impulses? Force them to be mannered? The important thing is he did not tell them about that little detail before they put the bangles on…

This is… also problematic. First, we can try to establish Simeon's intentions versus what actually happened: 

The bangles were (likely) intended to be removable. It was the mixing of the magic that locked them in place so we can assume he didn't mean this to be a permanent change.

The magic on the bangles was probably amplified by the angel costumes. What this means is though we can assume that Simeon never intended them to become quite so… different, we'll never know just how much influence he was actually trying to put on them. It could have been anything from suppressing their sins to full blown force you to say please/thank you. We'll just never get to know now… 

I won't be the first person to liken this to mind control (nor the last) because… that's kind of how it turned out. Even worse still, it would have been completely involuntary on the brothers' part. Simeon DID NOT tell them what the bangles were going to do. Now, he claims later that he would have eventually, but we don't get to know when that would have been. I presume at some time after the party, because like. These are our boys. They're not going to consent to wearing something like that, they're just not.

This poses all kinds of questions and problems ranging from issues of consent to anatomy and even the worth of good deeds done out of obligation vs. free will and… I mean quite literally when I say Jesus Christ, Simeon, what the hell?!

I could write a completely different post debating whether or not what Simeon did actually had any moral merit but I won't because it'd be very dry and boring. I think the most interesting thing to take away here is that Simeon thought it was okay to do like, at all, and with approval from Michael (maybe) no less… That reflects something on angel society that I doubt will get explored but I need to ponder farther…

This section is all kinds of sticky so we need to move on.

The Development(?)

First off, to new players, don't worry this probably isn't canon (at least to the main story continuity). The Brothers should be back to normal in the new chapters and this won't have a long term effect on anything (aside from maybe a tie in to the next event ala Beach event-> Games). That's how Obey Me has always treated their events it seems and I sure hope they stick to it now. But, these are still the same characters going through a unique situation and that can offer some insight so… Let's discuss.

I mentioned earlier that the brothers had problems with this… Unfortunately, I think we only get to see Lucifer and Satan's thoughts in any detail because everyone else is too far gone by the time we reach them… Lucifer can pretty much be summed up as troubled and unhappy because (you know) not a lot of great memories as an angel. I presume that his wounded pride after the fall may also contribute. 

Satan is… more complex. I’m honestly more bothered by his change than anyone else’s because even he expresses how weird this is for him... (We get confirmation that he never in fact had an angel form, btw). Poor baby is going through a full on identity crisis and there’s a certain part of his mind that he’s not even allowed to use right now... Anger. The Avatar of Wrath, born from Wrath, can’t get angry and… Something about that just bothers me at a deeper level, not even I can express properly…

Everyone else is too far gone once we reach them. Their personalities are completely different and they can’t even acknowledge that’s the case. They think that they’ve turned a new leaf but we know that’s not the reality, that leaf was very much turned for them and it doesn’t make anything feel any better…

This may be my own opinion, but part of me thinks that this portion (and only this portion right here) was actually what the Devs were going for. They wanted us to be uncomfortable by all of this for like, story reasons. It’s a narrative trick. Think of the phrase “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” I think they were trying to use the absence of the brothers’ usual flaws and traits as a weird way of celebrating them. Kind of like saying, “We could have given you guys these perfect brothers, but they’re not perfect and we know that’s why you like them. Look at these perfect guys, doesn’t it feel wrong?” The answer is, yes. It does feel wrong. And under other circumstances, it would be affirming like they’d be intending, “I don’t want this emotionally-open non-otaku, give me Levi dammit!” But when you add this intended discomfort with the already sketchy way we got here it just makes it all the worse… 

And absolutely NONE of this is helped by...

The… End?

I think the thing I hate about this event the most (actually legitimately hate) is how it ends. In that it doesn’t. It kind of just… abruptly stops right after Lucifer starts coming to himself again. Though I suspect that’s because they’re putting incentive into getting the event cards, this in NO WAY does the narrative any favors.

Most people are not going to get those cards. Even with Lonely Devil as an option, it’s a huge time/resource commitment to get there. Because of that, the majority of people are not going to get to see the aftermath of what happened. We don’t get to see how the brothers feel about what happened. We don’t get to see if they do, in fact, come to and if they have any takeaways from the experience or if they’re utterly disgusted by it. The player character doesn’t even get the option to comfort them after something that was probably terribly traumatic. It. Just. Ends.

What that means is all of that discomfort that we had just lingers… There’s no resolution or pay off. It just… stays… This is the worst possible thing they could have done. If you want your audience to feel uncomfortable, that’s one thing, but unless you’re telling like, a psychological thriller you gotta settle them back down again! Deep moral conflict is not a turn on!!!

Personally, I don’t hate that this thing exists. I don’t. The part of me that majored in Philosophy loves analyzing media like this so I can’t say that I didn’t get anything out of it. I don’t think all media should play it safe, it’s okay to leave the audience with no good answers or a feeling of unease, but you really got to be self-aware of it. The biggest flaw of this event, in my opinion, is that it rarely comes across as self-aware of its own horror. You get a very brief glimpse of it from Solomon when he comments on how creepy things are, but Simeon’s happy. Diavolo’s happy. And though he’s a little uneasy, Luke’s pretty content, too. Add that to the abrupt ending and we never get to know if ANY of them realize how awful of a thing this was to do to the brothers... It makes it all come off as an endorsement of mind controlling your friends into better people and (to me) that feels really, really wrong.

So in conclusion… I dunno. If the next event isn’t something along the lines of “Angelic Demons Part 2: Fixing What We Fucked Up!” then I think they really botched this one guys… I hope somebody was taking notes.

[fakeloveaskblog]

Janus, have you and Remus hung out other then when you go to fake therapy? You should ask him out? Keep it open, maybe not outright ask him for a date but to hang out!

(Words: 2140)

Janus: "Oh you know me anon. I am so totally known for asking people to hang out. Yes me and Remus have been eeeverywhere together /s No we have never hung out.......But I suppose you have been very wise so far. So I shall try and go ut of my comfort zone and ask him he would like to spend time together"

They were in that same spot they always stood after the fake therapy. Where they were supposed to part ways. Remus had his phone out, checking the bus times. Janus knew he had to say something now or else yet another week would pass and he would never have the courage to ask.

"Do ehm is you- fuck-" Janus wanted to smash his head open on a rock. He was a idiotic mess who couldn't even say a simple sentence.

"What?" Remus looked at him with a smile. Jan swore he had specifically practiced that smile so it made him melt internally every single time.

"Do you maybe possibly have anything to do today?"

"Oh yeah all booked up with exorcising demons out of old ladies' houses. you know how it is!" He let out a short screechy laugh "Come on Snakey y'know I don't have a job or any plans on robbing banks right now. Of course I'm free!"

"Noted. Then I am totally not asking you to perhaps do something like going to the movies?"

Remus' eyes widened and he shone up into a huge toothy smile "YES!" He grabbed Janus' hand while flapping with his other hand "You gotta be psychic or something! I've been wanting to see this movie made by a director I'm hyperfixating on but I didn't wanna go alone and my sister is still out of town SO this is great!!"

He didn't waste another second. He dragged Janus with him as he began to very quickly walk while continuing to stim.

All Janus could do was stare at their hands. Their palms pressed against each other. His love's thumb brushing up and down his skin. He had never been happier over forgetting his gloves at home.

His cheeks stayed rosy red the entire walk. It was like walking on air. He didn't even realize Remus was still speaking until they got the cinema.

"-And that's why I thought it would have been better if the hamster had died!" He concluded.

".............Fascinating" Janus replied hoping it was a good answer.

"I know right!"

He looked down and realized they were still holding hands. His happy expression instantly dropped as he let go of Janus like he was made of fire.

"Oh fuck buckets! I should have asked if you were okay with like ehhh touch beforehand! Now you're gonna cut my head off!" Remus gasped out.

"Indeed, I do now hate you and I have already hired an assassin to kill you" Janus replied sarcasticly "It's okay, I promise"

Remus let out a breathe of relief in the most cartoon balloon leaking air way possible. "Neat!"

It was 3 pm on a Thursday so there weren't any people in line. Remus didn't even give his friend a chance to pay for his own ticket. He also got a big ass popcorn and a bag of eyeball candies.

He dumped the snacks into the arms of Janus as his eyes caught on a poster on the wall advertising another movie. He jumped up and down while pointing at it, like the excitement was too much to be contained in his body.

"It's my sister! She told me she would be in this one!" The poster didn't show the actresse's face since she had on a cloke to look dark and myserious (tm) "That's her I swear on the last human tooth I have!"

"I believe you. You could be her perfect stunt double"

Remus shoot his arms out "That's what I've been saying too!!! You really are a psychic! Being a stunt double is literally the dream job! I get to pretend to be killed in so many ways! I get to jump off of buildings!! Sadly she mostly does dramas and romances and all that boring stuff"

"Well I for one would love seeing you get stabbed on film" He held his hand over his heart as he said it.

"Omg snakey!! Thank you!! Means a lot!"

He had that wide smile on his lips again. Janus wished he was able to make him smile like that every day.

"Oh the movie is starting soon! Ahhhh exciting! Horror really is the best genre!"

Janus paled "Horror?"

"Yeah! I told you all about the movie on the way here remember? You're okay with horror right?"

"O-Of course! I have watched halloween alien on elm street like 5 times!" He lied.

Remus chuckled "Sure sounds like it"

They went into the screening room. Ads were running on the big screen. They were the only ones there. Remus found their seats right at the back in a corner. He sat down and triumphantly put his feet on the seat in front of him.

"Look at that snakey! We've got the whole room to ourselves! Only...."

His eyes suddenly stopped and shifted to stare out into air. His happy expression slowly disappeared leaving a hollow look on his face. He moved his legs up to his chest and sat completely still.

".....Only us......"

Janus slumped down in the seat next to his. Remus leaned away in his seat so he was further from his friend.

"Indeed. I could poison you and no one would be here to stop me. But I won't...yet" He hoped a joke would make his love lighten up again.

Remus forced a halfhearted smile "Sure that"

The movie started. Janus was already stress eating popcorn from fear by the time the first scene had ended. Which only made him even more stressed over making Remus think he was a fat gluttonous disgusting mess! Which he was! But he didn't want him to know that!!

Whenever he glanced over to Remus he looked just the same, As if the movie was fucking mamma mia or something.

He didn't want to seem unclassy and close his eyes like a 5 year old so he tried to comb his hair in front of his eyes instead. He couldn't stop his racing heartbeat or his unsteady hands though. He didn't do well to loud sounds. Or screaming voices.

He jumped in his chair at an extra gory scare. The popcorn landed all over his body. His cheeks went red enough to be mistaken for a ladybug.

Remus glanced over at him "You don't have to hide that you're scared y'know. The audience reaction is like half the fun"

"Me? Scared? I haven't felt scared since I buried a body in 1967! This is just how I show my appreciation for movies!" He blurted out the lie in a panic.

His love threw his head back as he let out a loud laugh. He couldn't stop as he buried his head in his hands. His shoulders moved in rhytm to his giggles. It seemed to calm his nerves a bit.

"Holy shit snakey that was such a horrible lie! You're such a dork! I say that with affection I promise"

Janus couldn't help but chuckle along "Dork actually means something really dirty. I know since I was practically married to my dictionary when I was youn-"

"WHALE PENIS! I know!! You're the first one who also knows!"

"I suppose that means we're soulmates now" Janus couldn't help but say it.

"Penis soulmates!"

Janus sighed "Yes"

In the movie a man's torso was ripped from his body. Remus flapped his hands. Janus let out a quiet whimper.

"I could infodump a bit if that would make you less scared"

Janus leaned closer to respond but Remus instantly flinched back. He made sure to keep keeping his distance "I would love to hear"

He shone up into a smile. It wasn't quite as carefree and happy as the other ones but it was still his smile and Janus had caused it. It made him feel warm.

He started rambling about the director's other movies and how the themes tied in with this movie. About how the director had studied to be a doctor so he know enough about biology to make all of the gore extra realistic. About how the movie soundtrack's added to the scare even though they were often silly. All while stimming. Sometimes he went quiet to focus on the film while Janus curled in on himself and closed his eyes.

Honestly Janus could have heard him go on for hours but sadly the movie eventually ended. And they eventually got out of the cinema. And eventually the snacks the shared while sitting on a bench outside also ended. And the conversation died out.

It was only around 5 pm but the sky had already started to darken. The streetlamps were getting lit one by one, and a few people were standing in line for the next movie. Janus feared having to say goodbye.

Luckily he didn't have to as Remus quietly asked "Could you like follow me home? The apartement is only 15 minutes and a minor murder spree away"

"Of course!" He replied a bit too excitedly.

He made sure to not walk too close as to not make him flinch again. Remus started to subconsciously hymm on a song after some time of silence. Janus couldn't stop feeling over the moon at the fact that he was hanging out with someone! And he seemed to like him!! And he was in love with him no less!!!

"Snakey I think I gotta admit something kinda dorky-"

"Is it the murder in 1967? We've all been there"

"Actually it was in 1987. Okay but really.....The only friends I've ever really had has been my sister and my ex, and some online friends here and there I guess but we lost contact really quickly. What I mean is that I'm really rusty on this whole friend thing and I'm just glad that you don't get annoyed by my infodumping or stimming or....or the whole me!"

Janus' eyes widened and he slowly let up into a laugh "Oh! Oh I have been so worried for nothing then! I've never had any friends, at all! This was literally the first time I ever went to a movie with another person! We're the same!"

Remus giggled "We really are penis soulmates!"

"I am begging you to not let that become a thing"

"Too late! It already is! We're both friendless dorks you motherfucker!! Of course we're penis soulmates!"

Janus sighed "I am suddenly so glad we are close to your place so I can get away from you.....That was a lie"

Remus lightly punched his shoulder "Better be. Or else I'd have to kidnap you!"

He stopped in front of a series of building of obviously quite glamorous apartements. Janus was honestly starting to wonder if he had a sugar daddy and or sold drugs. Or else he had no idea how he could afford all of this.

They stopped right in front of the entrance. Remus crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Janus fiddled with his sleeves. Neither of them wanted to say goodbye.

Janus shuly glanced at his love's face. His birtmarks which he so wanted to press kisses to. His fluffy hair he would love to nuzzle into. His full lips which he thought about running his finger over every time he looked at them. He was beautiful. Just beautiful.

"Sooo....I guess I will either see you in hell or in fake therapy next week?" Remus asked.

"For sure"

He awkwardly opened the door "Well I will see you then then!" He did fingerguns "Bye penis soulmate!"

Janus rolled his eyes while waving "Bye.....phallus companion!"

The door closed and he was left in the silence. It took a few second and then

"YES! OH I did it! I survived! Aphrodite would be so proud of me!!"

Janus had to sit down. He was going to explode. He couldn't stop moving his hands around. He was going to pass out. He had never been happier. He deserved a whole soup bowl of ice cream.

He took off his beanie to drag his hand through his hair. He felt breathless from happiness as he stared up at the sky. He had never felt more in love.

He looked at where he imagined you would stand if you had a corporeal body.

"So I suppose your advice worked quite well. It did sound like he wanted to hang out again...So anon....or whatever voice that is in my head that asks me things......Do you have any suggestions on what we should do on our next hangout?"

[mst3kproject]

The Ape

In the vein of movies that should not be confused with eerily similar previous entries, The Ape is distinct from The Ape Man... but not by much.  Both feature a slumming horror superstar, glandular secretions, and a stupid gorilla suit.  All these things also showed up in early seasons of MST3K, of course, and The Ape Man also has a surprise bonus.  Apparently, the guy in the gorilla costume is none other than Crash Corrigan, of Undersea Kingdom!

Long ago, Dr. Adrien lost his daughter to polio, and ever since he's been obsessed with finding a cure.  That sounds pretty noble, but unfortunately, Adrien is a mad doctor, so the cure he comes up with requires killing healthy people to drain them of their cerebralspinal fluid!  In order not to arouse suspicion, he kills and skins a gorilla that escaped from a circus, and wears its hide when he murders people... you know, as one does. To nobody's surprise but his, he ends up getting shot, but hey, at least he cured beautiful young Frances' paralysis!

This is a weird, dumb movie but one thing I can say in its favour is that everybody seems to have given it a good try.  This material was far beneath Boris Karloff but he takes it seriously and actually gets a couple of decent moments, as does Maris Wrixton (who was also in The Face of Marble) as Frances.  Nobody else is even close to Karloff's level, being just bland 40's actors who talk too fast, but none of the main cast are phoning it in, either.

Conversely, the worst thing in the movie is its truly horrendous gorilla suit.  The puppet face shows the actor's eyes and can curl its lip, which is cool, though the features don't look very gorilla-ish.  The rest of the suit, however, is terrible. It's way too shaggy and in order to give it a gorilla-like silhouette, they stuck a big hunchback on it.  This might have worked if Corrigan had tried to walk on all fours like gorillas actually do, but instead he waddles along upright like a toddler with a full diaper, which ruins it.  The people who made the movie also appear to think gorillas are nocturnal which, for the record, they are not.

Gorillas were kind of a big thing in movies of the 40's and 50's.  The species had been scientifically described a century earlier, but hadn't really been studied until the 1920s and most people had never seen one outside of King Kong. Films of the period were not kind to the gorilla.  One of the first gorilla movies was 1930's Ingagi, which purported to be a documentary about gorillas kidnapping women as sex slaves.  That kind of set the tone, and subsequent movies depicted gorillas as creatures prone to violence and rape.  Examples from this blog alone are numerous: The Ape Man (1940), Panther Girl of the Kongo (1955), and Bride of the Gorilla (1951) for starters... Robot Monster (1953) might also count.

The Ape has a slightly more nuanced approach to gorilla behaviour.  Yes, its gorilla does maul people to death... but the first victim is its trainer, who has been shown mistreating it.  Another circus employee even tries to tell him that he'll catch more flies with honey.  When the ape batters its way into Dr. Adrien's house, it does so in order to get at the trainer's coat, which Adrien left draped over a chair when the dying man was brought to him for treatment.  We see far more fear of the escaped ape than we do of the animal itself, and it does not commit near as many murders as Adrien does while dressed in its skin!

So that's halfway progressive for the 1940s.  We can also look at the treatment of Frances, the wheelchair-user partially paralyzed by polio.  She is clearly meant to be an object of the audience's pity, and Adrien is obsessed with making her able to walk again – as he could not do for his own daughter.  To some extent the movie infantilizes her, as she is clearly dependent on her mother, unable to have much of a social life, and her boyfriend Danny professes his willingness to 'take care of her'.  When she regains movement in her legs at the end of the movie, she and her mother immediately burn her wheelchair.  Apparently she's not allowed to build up her stamina slowly... if she walks ten minutes from home and then can't continue, she's just gotta sit there until she recovers or somebody finds her.

On the other hand, Frances' family aren't trying to force Adrien's possible cure on her, but let her choose it for herself. Her mother doesn't mind looking after her, and Danny is happy to accommodate her by, for example, hiring a cart so she can accompany him to the circus.  Danny in particular is very suspicious of the fact that the injections Adrien gives to Frances are causing her pain, and takes the doctor to task for it, telling him he would rather have her disabled and happy than walking but in pain.  “I'd rather carry her around all my life!” he says.  Her loved ones are willing to try for the cure, but it doesn't seem like anyone will be miserable if it fails.  Frances herself wistfully admires the acrobats at the circus, but shows no anger or bitterness that she cannot be like them.

Frances is even allowed some initiative, as she hurries down the road in her wheelchair calling to Dr. Adrien and trying to warn him that the gorilla is in the area.  This, ironically, is what leads to Adrien getting shot, as it attracts the attention of the posse hunting the animal.  But as Adrien lies dying, he gets to see Frances standing for the first time in ten years, so I guess we're meant to think this was all worth it.

But was it?  Several people died in order to provide the spinal fluid that helped Frances heal.  The movie shows them as terrified of Dr. Adrien and/or the gorilla, but other than that it is oddly uninterested in their fates.  None of the deaths are presented as tragedies, with families left in mourning... the only family we hear about for the gorilla trainer is a father who is already dead, and another one of the victims was an asshole who told his wife if she didn't like him cheating on her she could always drown herself(!??).  So... are we supposed to think they don't matter?  That their deaths are acceptable because they helped Frances – who was not dying or even deteriorating, and was satisfied with her life as it was – to a cure?

It is notable that we do not see what happens when Frances finds out that people had to die for her to be able to walk.  She would have to reassess her opinion of Dr. Adrien, whom until now she has thought of as a loving father figure.  She would have to figure out what this means for her future and perhaps need reassurance that she is not culpable.  Her unconcerned happiness at the end suggests that nobody bothered to tell her, and that she has not yet made the connection herself.  This is really quite unfortunate, because it deprives Frances of her only real chance to be a character rather than a plot point – which is ultimately all she is here.

Nobody else is shown dealing with the aftermath, either.  The town has long mistrusted Dr. Adrien because of rumours that he was experimenting on his patients, and a recent spate of missing dogs is shown to be his fault.  An early scene shows a group of boys bothering the doctor by throwing rocks at his house (which made me wonder if toilet paper hadn't been invented yet. According to Wikipedia, it dates to 1857, so there's your Fun Fact for the day). Seeing their worst fears realized really ought to have some effect on the people.  Even if nobody bothers to tell Frances how her miraculous cure was effected, others will surely figure it out and have to weigh up what he achieved versus the crimes he committed to get there.

Yeah, I know: this is a movie about a guy killing people while wearing a dead gorilla.  I'm thinking too hard.

Finally, I want to note some interesting possible connections between The Ape and a number of other movies I've seen.  Both The Ape and The Ape Man appear to have been inspired by the 1932 movie Murders in the Rue Morgue, which also features a gorilla and injections of bodily fluids in the name of mad science, and did not feature very much resemblance to Edgar Allen Poe's story of the same name.  I don't know if these films directly inspired each other, and it's been ages since I saw Rue Morgue... but the combination of plot elements here seems weirdly specific to be something different people came up with independently.  I should watch all three again and see if I notice any more similarities between them.

There are also interesting likenesses between The Ape and another Boris Karloff movie, 1945's The Grave Robber.  The latter is the story of a doctor who needs fresh corpses as part of his research, which culminates in surgery to allow a paralyzed girl to walk again.  The doctor in this film is more a victim than a villain, himself, as he finds that the man he's been paying to rob graves for him is actually murdering the homeless, and he can't expose this criminal without jeopardizing his work and incriminating himself.  It's been a long time since I saw this movie, either (as I mentioned a few weeks ago, I've had some shit going on and I haven't had a lot of time for movies, bad or otherwise), so I can't actually say if it's better than The Ape, but it's definitely less silly.

Anyway, the moral of this story is vaccinate your fucking kids or a gorilla will kill you.

[maximumsnow]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, HLVRAI - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta, Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Bubby (Half-Life), Benrey (Half-Life) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Basically an au exploring what if HLVRAI followed Half Life a little more closely, Au where there isn't a betrayal in that one spot, Mainly was wondering what would happen to the others if they hadn't been in on it., Some things change some don't, Oh also this is sort of intended as a not a game au

Summary: Anyone who knows original Half-Life knows that the ambush happens in that spot no matter what. What would have happened if the ambush was as rough for the others?

There was a lot to unpack involving the full realization of just how inhuman Benrey was, but all of it was shoved aside thanks to the current problem.

Which was that Benrey was horribly injured and trapped in a room that was full of a poisonous gas, and, if Coomer’s continued explanation from Wikipedia was anything to go by, it was really, really bad. Gordon did not know the limits of Benrey’s ability to heal, but if he looked this bad while getting poison shoved down his lungs, Gordon wasn’t sure about Benrey’s chances of bouncing back if he stayed for too long.

The worry cranked up to eleven when Benrey suddenly collapsed below the window.

Gordon ran over to the control console and anxiously glanced over all the buttons and levers that clearly had something to do with the environmental room. “Shit, is there like, an emergency release button?!”

Tommy wasn’t far behind. “There should- there has to be one. It’s gotta be OSHA compliant!”

“No offense, Tommy, but given everything else you’ve said followed OSHA, that doesn’t mean shit.”

“I was joking then, Mr. Freeman.”

The conversation was cut off by Bubby yelling, “Look for ‘Emergency Ventilation!’ They might be idiots, but they don’t want to waste that much space and money on a bricked room.” He had taken Tommy’s place at the tank of poison and was fiddling with something over there.

Now that he knew what to look for, Gordon renewed his search, but Tommy was already reaching over him and slammed a fist onto a button. “Woah-”

A sound not unlike an air conditioning unit but much louder kicked in, and there was an immediate change in the enclosed room as the green started to clear out. With the fog fading away and the lack of a large rainbow body covering the floor, it was much easier to see what the room used to be.

The rocky terrain was mostly barren by this point, with the remains of possibly alien plants dotted around pools of water. Corpses of headcrabs were also strewn about, but, shockingly, they were mostly still intact despite Benrey’s presence.

Most notably, though, there was the body of a soldier, and Gordon could not say the same about it. It was in more pieces than Benrey’s still alive body. There was an arm in the corner, a leg by that murky pool, and Gordon had to look away from the torso with organs leaking out of it.

That was enough nightmares for today.

He anxiously waited for the door to unlock, but despite the toxin being flushed out by fresh air and vented elsewhere, there wasn’t a click or a hiss or any other sound he would associate with an unlocking pressurized door.

“Uh, why-”

The overhead sprinklers in the sealed room turned on; the hiss of spraying water was immediately covered up by a sharp scream that could only have come from Benrey.

Gordon slammed against the window as he tried to see what was going on. “Benrey? Dude, you okay?” He knew the question was stupid, but due to where Benrey dropped, it was difficult to see the security guard from the angle the window allowed.

“What are you doing?” The tone would be called whiny if it wasn’t for the gasps of pain that punctuated each word.

The implied accusation stung. “I don’t know! We hit the button to clear out the gas and-”

Tommy interrupted, “Sorry Benrey! That stuff- That gas residue can stick. The room has special surfactant laced water in the sprinklers and… yeah. Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

The explanation was met with silence.

“Benrey?” Gordon couldn’t help but call out.

“Oh. Okay. I can chill a bit.” The voice was strained, but at least he spoke at all.

The tension left his shoulders a little. As long as Benrey was still talking, they knew he was fine. At least it sounded like his voice wasn’t as raspy this time.

Unfortunately, all they could do was wait until the room went through a complete clean cycle if the book Tommy had pulled out was right.

Feeling bad for their stuck companion, Gordon turned the intercom on and panicked when he didn’t have an immediate topic to bring up. Latching onto the first question his mind thought of, he asked, “So uh, was this why you kept disappearing on us earlier?”

More silence.

“Benrey?”

“Hey bro. Appreciate what you’re doing, but please no talking? Pretty please? I’ll be fine. Promise.” Benrey’s voice was barely audible over the fans getting louder.

The pained plea immediately made Gordon feel guilty, so he turned the intercom off and started to pace in front of the window. The sound made it difficult for any of them to hold a conversation, even if Benrey wasn’t involved, so Gordon was stuck alone in his thoughts as he waited for the door to finally open. From a different perspective, it looked like he was all but bouncing between Bubby and Tommy, but he didn’t get to appreciate that mental image due to worrying over the condition Benrey was in.

He was still reeling over the full understanding that Benrey’s one off line about not being human was not an impulsive gag, but a truthful statement. Sure, he probably should have guessed by now given Benrey’s apparent powers, but Gordon still thought that he was more in line with Bubby or Coomer. An… Enhanced human, if anything else.

But nope, Benrey was apparently a shapeshifting monster that had a human form. The scientist in Gordon was intrigued at the apparent alien life form, but the empathetic part of him knew that outright asking shit like that would be rude at best. De-human… Depersonalizing at worst.

Sure Benrey gave him hell, but it wasn’t like Benrey had been outright malicious. Hell, he had even rescued Coomer.

… Actually, he was probably also the thing that slammed into Bubby’s tube to release him.

Damn, Gordon really felt bad for being a dick to Benrey earlier, now.

His thoughts were interrupted as a loud hissing sound brought his attention back to the room, and Tommy all but yanked the door off its hinges before catching himself. “Mr. Freeman, you have to, uh. You’re wearing an HEV suit. You have to be the one to pull him out.”

Nodding, Gordon quickly passed him and entered the now supposedly cleaned environmental room. Benrey was huddled under the observation window, and when he looked up at Gordon, he actually had more than half of a face.

The sight of muscle and bone still made Gordon recoil in horror. “Holy shit, dude. Doesn’t that hurt?”

Benrey half-heartedly gave a one-armed shrug. “I’ll regen soon, don’t worry about it.”

“That doesn’t mean this doesn’t suck ass!” Hell, just looking at him was making him queasy. But the half-drowned puppy look compelled him to at least try to ease the poor guy’s pain. “Come on let’s get you out of here.” He knelt down and tried to figure out where he could potentially touch Benrey without hurting him.

“Need a hand?” Benrey rolled over, and clutched in his remaining hand was a now very muddy arm.

Needless to say, the visual equivalent of a non-sequitur gave Gordon pause as he tried to process just what he was looking at.

“Why the fuck do you have a random arm?”

“Wasn’t his.” He lazily waved the arm like it was a magic wand and pointed the hand end towards the dead soldier.

Gordon could feel his stress headache building. “What do you mean it wasn’t his?”

In lieu of saying anything, Benrey shoved the other end of the arm into Gordon’s face, and the movement startled Gordon into falling on his ass.

He was so glad that he couldn’t feel the mud through the HEV suit.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Look, it’s not, uh, natural.”

“I don’t want to look at the bony end-” He stopped and stared at the place he knew there should be blood and bone, but there were bits that looked shiny under the mud. “Metal?”

“Yeah. Not his. He’s kinda made of meat.”

“Is this… Dr. Coomer’s arm?”

“Think so. Tried to get it back for ‘em”

… That’s right, Benrey was the monster that chased the soldiers that had taken Dr. Coomer apart.

Gordon shook his head as he got back on his feet. “You can show him when we get out. Come on...”

Given Benrey’s current state, Gordon finally decided to just try picking him up bridal style. Other than a few grunts of pain as he was shifted around, Benrey kept mostly quiet.

Exiting became a problem since the others had all elected to stand directly in the doorway to peer in like children trying to snoop on their parents. He rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything, Benrey shouted, “LET ME OUT OF THIS BOX!”

The sudden volume actually made Bubby and Tommy scramble out of the way, but it took a not so subtle yank from Bubby to make Coomer move.

With the path clear, Gordon walked in and found a relatively clean spot next to a wall to put Benrey. “Here we go. Sorry, can’t do anything more comfy for ya.”

“It’s fine,” He said before shoving the arm into Gordon’s hands. “I gotta. Gotta nap.”

While the thought of staying too long made him nervous, Gordon couldn’t help but agree with him there. They could afford to take a break for a while. “Alright, I’ll get you up before we leave.”

“Sounds good.” The one eye was already drifting shut, but the steady breathing soothed Gordon’s fear.

Despite still being worried, he could see some of the skin regrowing on Benrey’s face, and, frankly, Gordon didn’t want to get sick. Instead, he turned to the others, nearly bumped into Tommy with how close he had been standing, and asked Coomer, “Hey, your arm-”

“Look, Gordon, you found my left Extendo-arm!”

“-Your arm is dirty. Do we have to do anything special to clean it?”

“Nope! It’s perfectly waterproof even when unattached. You’ve even seen me swim with it.”

“The chemicals in the water should have- should have made it safe to use. Even after exposure to- Even after being exposed to the poison.”

“Okay so just some good old soap and water to get off the dirt should be fine.” With that, he walked over the bloodstains to one of the sinks built into the counters. He tested one of the faucet handles, and sighed in relief when water flowed out of the tap. Grateful that the water was still working, he started trying to wipe off all the mud.

Progress was… Slow, however.

“How the HELL did this get so fucking dirty?”

The clunky gloves of the HEV suit didn’t make it any easier, either. As he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn clump of dirt, he glanced over towards Tommy and Benrey.

Tommy was practically standing over Benrey. Like he was guarding him.

But before he could say something to him, Bubby and Coomer’s movements caught his eye as they wandered towards Gordon’s other side.

Coomer had moved first. Something had caught his attention, and he was walking towards the other sink. Then Bubby’s examination of the poison tank ended, and he joined Coomer in looking over what was left on the counters.

They both stood in front of a strange egg-like thing, and when Gordon looked over his shoulder to do a quick headcount, he had to ask, “Uh, what the fuck is that? Please don’t poke it.”

“Hello, Gordon! I have no idea what this is!” Given his current lack of upper limbs, Coomer had settled on nearly shoving his face into it as he tried to examine it.

Bubby, of course, decided to pick it up, and before Gordon could stop him, the egg appeared to hatch on contact. “Oh. I uh. Didn’t expect that. Does this mean I’m a parent now?”

“What a beautiful child!”

The creature in question was an insectoid creature not much bigger than Bubby’s hand with a large faceted eye. When Bubby brought up his other hand to presumably touch it, a beak snapped shut very close to his finger and nearly caused him to drop it.

“Careful, before it bites your hand off!”

“I’m not that stupid.”

Gordon chose to not rise to the bait and start a fight there. “We can’t take it with us, so figure out what to do with it.”

Turning back to his task at hand, he continued scrubbing mud away, and he couldn’t help but notice that the artificial skin on the arm sometimes made it look far too real.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think- Wait where the fuck did that thing go?

When he looked back over the counter, the creature Bubby had picked up was nowhere to be seen.

He had to ask, "What did you do?"

"Tranq'ed it."

Gordon blinked a few times before yelling, "HOW?"

"With tranqulizers Gordon use your goddamn brain." With that, Bubby turned away and walked over towards the desk.

"Where did you- you know what? I don't need to know." He knew a lost cause of a conversation when he saw one, and he did not want to deal with it anymore.

Once the arm was sufficiently cleaned, he placed it on the counter and nearly ran into Coomer.

“Hello, Gordon!”

“Hey, Coomer. Does this need to dry before we reattach it, or can it just go right on?” He waved towards the drying arm.

Coomer mused for a second before saying, “It is waterproof, but I’ve never tried attaching the arms while they’re still wet. Maybe we should sit it in rice for a few minutes?”

“Uhhhh, we don’t have rice, dude. But we can let it air dry for a while. Don’t think we’re going anywhere soon.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the resting Benrey. In a quieter voice, he asked, “How’re you holding up?”

Matching his volume, Coomer responded, “I’ll be much better when I have my arms again. At least we’re almost halfway there.”

Gordon reached over and patted Coomer’s shoulder before going back to the others. “How about we just. Take a breather for now?”

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Bubby said before promptly dropping to the floor. At least that spot was clean...

“… You okay?” “I’m fine!” Despite the claim, Bubby was removing the shoe on his bad foot and was checking on the injury.

Before Gordon could go over and repeat the question, Coomer lightly shoulder checked him as he passed by and gave Gordon a look.

As Gordon understood it, that was an unspoken, “Let me handle it,” gesture, and he backed away from the older scientists as they settled.

Coomer lightly leaned against Bubby on his way down to a sitting position; the ease with which he went through the motions spoke of years of practice.

How often had Coomer been armless before?

Gordon knew the question would be unappreciated at the moment, but it hovered in his mind like an annoying fly. He tried to distract himself by taking a seat not far from Benrey and Tommy, but Benrey was still obviously regrowing shit, which Gordon still didn’t want to focus on.

So that left trying to get Tommy to relax.

“Yo, Tommy, uhh. How long before I can sleep?” He nearly slapped himself on the forehead with how dumb that was. Wow, great conversation starter, Gordon. Bringing more attention to their group's various injuries was a great way to ease Tommy’s worries.

The expected reaction of Tommy managing to tense up even more made Gordon vaguely wonder when the theoretical string would snap. “I don’t- It’s not an exact science. Just. If you-” Tommy cut himself off. “-I know we can’t keep you up forever.” The admission was followed by a drop in Tommy’s shoulders. “Can you stay up until night- until the we have to stop and sleep later?”

The correction was appreciated. Sometimes they didn’t see the sun for a while, and at this point, Gordon didn’t even know what time of day it was. The lobby had ambient sunlight shining through the skylight, but with everything happening, he couldn’t even begin to guess how long ago that was.

Right, he needed to answer that question before Tommy wrung himself into a spiral of anxiety. “Yeah, man, I can do that.”

Tommy’s face lightened up into a faint smile, and while that gave Gordon some relief, he couldn’t help but feel sad that the normally vivid expression had faded so much.

Deciding to take the conversation back to what he actually wanted to talk about, he asked, “Wanna take a breather? The rest of us are. Can you mess up the door like the last one?”

Tommy bit his lip as he appeared to weigh the options. “This door doesn’t- This room doesn’t have a Tesla charge. So it doesn’t have the same-” Tommy waved his hand in frustration, “-Things. That the last door we blocked did.”

Gordon groaned, “OSHA Compliance?”

“OSHA Compliance.”

Sure, he knew why most automatic doors didn’t have an auto-lock on them, but it made things really inconvenient right now.

“How about we just block the door with something? We’re all hanging out on the ground.” Despite that last statement, Gordon adjusted himself so that he could stand up and help.

“Take it easy, Mr. Freeman, I can get it,” Tommy said before putting a hand on Gordon’s shoulder to keep him seated.

“But-”

“It won’t take me long, just keep- Watch out for the others.”

He wasn’t entirely sure just what he meant since Bubby was already faintly snoring, and Coomer was loudly snoring, but didn’t argue as Tommy breezed past him.

Gordon would swear he only blinked before Tommy had come back and settled near him and Benrey.

“You already done?”

“Yeah, just took some- Took a few chairs and made a barrier. The counter already blocks us from view. And the- the uh, blood trail should be a warning sign...”

Tommy sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Gordon, and it didn’t look like it was working.

“I believe you.”

The look Tommy gave him conveyed incredulousness and gratitude.

“We’ll get through this, okay? But don’t burn yourself out. I can keep an eye on things for an hour or two, if that would help?”

Sure, Gordon knew he would be an alarm system at best, but Tommy looked so tired. Even if Tommy would only take a short nap, it would be better for him in the long run.

Honestly, it would be better for all of them since he was the only one not physically fucked up in some way, but Gordon’s primary concern in the moment was Tommy’s mental wellbeing.

The quiet after the question stretched for an uncomfortable minute, but Gordon knew Tommy needed to think this through on his own terms. “Sure, I can- I can take a nap. Will you wake me up in-” Tommy then seemed to notice the lack of functioning clocks in this room, “-In a little while.”

“Poggers,” Gordon nearly died as the streamer lingo slipped out. Sure his interest in video games had slipped out earlier, but the residual fear of exposing his private interests to professional colleagues never went away completely. “Sounds good, I mean.”

Tommy shrugged before handing over the assault rifle and sliding down from his seated position to a laying position.

“G’night, Mr. Freeman.” “Goodnight, Tommy.”

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Ten): The Snakes We Don’t See

Notes: Kinda been sitting on the two most recent chapters, since I like started to write some cyberpunk 2077 stuff. So, thats why its been a while, but given how short the prologue for that fic is, I decided to go ahead and update this this month as well. 

Word Count:  13277

Chapter Warnings: Child Abuse (excerpts from the book of joseph), Suicide (non-graphic but still), A body horror dream (my favorite) with some symbolism/implications of sexual assault, discussion of religion, and really really way too blunt on the nose foreshadowing

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

The church and compound look beautiful in the moonlight, Dahlia can’t help but note as she drives Cassie towards it. The modest white buildings and the silver gate work looking beautiful beneath a blanket of stars. It’s not a steady bustle of activity like it was last time, thanks in large part to the late hour, she’s sure. But there’s a few church members meandering around the outside of the church, beyond the gate. Which, to her dismay is being watched by Theodore. It had to be one of the two members who hate her, didn’t it? Because life can’t just kick her in the teeth once and call it done, no, it has to throw in a few extra hits for good measure. The towering man is glaring at her as she comes to a slowed down stop before the gate. 

“Though I doubt it’s why you’re here, service is over, so save me a headache and scram.” 

“No can do, I gotta talk to Joseph.” 

“Pfff,” he scoffs at her, “you arrest me, ruin service, and then come around demanding an audience with The Father. Gotta hand it to you, nothing else, you got balls.” 

“Technically, Hudson arrested you, I wasn’t hired yet.” 

“You think that helps?” 

“Come on man, this ain’t about me.” 

He looks past her to Cassie, still holding onto Dahlia’s back, face ducked down to hide away from his amber gaze. Dahlia can see gears turning in his head and he sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“Fine, you can come through, but only ‘cause The Father likes you.” 

“Thanks,” Dahlia parks her bike, Cassie handing her back her helmet before the pair walk into the compound. 

“That guy at the gate is kind of…a lot.” 

“Eh, he doesn’t like me much, but he’s not that bad. Lonny’s probably the biggest d-bag I’ve met here, Jacob and his…friends, if you can call ‘em that, are a bit rough. But, even then, I’m seen more friendly faces than I’ve seen cruel ones.” 

A few people recognize Dahlia from the barbecue, giving her a kind smile and a friendly wave as she passes by in search of Joseph. She returns the kind gestures but stays focused on her goal. Dahlia isn’t quite sure she’s ready to fulfill her promise of stepping foot into the church just yet, but if they’re freshly done with service, that’d be where she’d find him. 

“Deputy,” a soft angelic voice speaks out, Faith walking through the compound  yard towards them, her hair is done up in plaits with flowers twisted in them, “is everything okay?” 

“Uh, not really? I was hoping to talk to Joseph? If he’s around.” Of course he’s around, she’s not sure why she’s acting like there’s a chance he’s not here. 

“Sure, I’ll go get him right away.” 

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him, walking out of the church with Faith beside him, she’s never been happier to see a preacher in her entire life. Dahlia looks over at Cassie and sees the raised eyebrow, which is understandable. Joseph is Joseph, strange and weird, shirtless with a myriad of sins and tattoos etched into his skin, and yellow aviators on despite the silver moonlight that covers them all. But at the moment, that moonlight gives him a halo, a saving grace for a shitty night. 

“Deputy, I’m surprised to see you so soon,” Josephs greets her,

“Yeah, I’m sorry to bug you, but I…we,” Dahlia looks back at the still timid Cassie, duffle bag held out in front of her lap,  “need some help. I didn’t know who else to turn to.” 

“Of course, if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.” 

“Well, Joseph, Faith, this is my friend Cassie, Cassie this is Joseph and Faith,” Dahlia first introduces them

“Hi…” Cassie gives an awkward nod of her head. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Joseph responds with a warm smile, “though I feel there’s more to this than friendly introductions.”

His gaze lingers on Dahlia’s knuckles, still stained with Liam’s blood. 

“Okay, so, Cassie’s home life is,” Dahlia pauses and looks to Cassie, searching for words that she might be comfortable with the deputy using, “bad, she’s not safe there. That’s all I’ll say. So, I was letting her stay with me but….recent events mean it ain’t too safe there either.” 

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure this has been difficult on the two of you.” 

“Difficult is a word for it; but more importantly, I hear Eden’s Gate takes folks in.” 

“Deputy…”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, I know it’s short notice, and I-“ 

A large warm hand grasps her shoulder and she doesn’t flinch, not this time.

“I’m honored you’d come to me for help.” 

And she feels his sincerity in his touch, hears it in every word, and sees it in his eyes. It’s hard to believe how much she distrusted him at first, she curses her past for coloring her view. He’s strange certainly, but he’s good.

“So, I take it you can help?” 

“Of course, my child.” 

“We have plenty of space at the convent,” Faith chimes in with a soft smile, looking from Joseph to Cassie. 

“Thank you, thank you, seriously, thank you so much,” Cassie gushes, relief swimming in her dark eyes. 

“We can get you settled in tonight.” 

“That’s so sweet, I can’t thank you enough.” 

“We’re happy to help,” then Joseph’s eyes turn to Dahlia, “will you be alright though, deputy?”

Joseph suddenly catches her hand in his own, brushing his fingers over her bloodied knuckles, no sign of hesitation at the rough sight. Brows furrowed in concern. 

“Oh yeah, it’s not mine, don’t worry, uh,” she catches herself, “that sounds bad, but like dude was gonna torch my trailer so, it was like okay to punch him, I think.” 

“Wait, what?”  Cassie’s eyes go wide as she looks to Dahlia, she must not have seen Liam with the lighter, only Dahlia striking him. 

“Yeah, dude was gonna fuckin’ torch the place, so I blacked his eye. More than fair, if you ask me.” 

“Okay, first,” Cassie starts and Dahlia smiles as a bit of the girl’s personality peeks through her fear, “I didn’t know it was that bad. Secondly, I don’t think you’re suppose to talk like that in front of a church and it’s preacher.” 

“I also shouldn’t have worn a shirt that said ‘hail satan’ to their sermon.” 

“You what?” 

“Look, in my defense,” Cassie is covering her mouth and laughing, a welcomed sight, “I don’t think, okay, you think I think and I just don’t alright.” 

Dahlia is laughing through her own words, face flushed red at being the butt of the joke, but if it can bring a smile to Cassie’s face right now she’d make a thousand more mistakes like it.  Faith’s little melodic giggles ring out behind her own hand. Joseph doesn’t laugh but he does smile. With the tension of Cassie’s housing eased, everyone seems in a brighter mood. 

“And despite all that, you still like her?” Cassie asks, looking up at Joseph and Faith.

“I’d get mad but like, fair fuckin’ question.” 

“I’ve forgiven sins and transgressions far greater than yours,  deputy,” Joseph says and his eyes are intense, kind, but the word sins makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It’s not a fun word, but most religions have a ‘everyone’s born a sinner’ mentality. So, surely she can’t be too upset. 

“Your patience is both staggering and appreciated, I assure you,” Dahlia tells him, her smile a bit more forced than it was a moment ago. If he can tell he doesn’t say anything. 

“Come on Cassie, I’ll introduce you to everyone and we’ll get you settled, okay?” 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

Faith grabs Cassie’s hand and leads her away with a giggle, the sigh of the flower adorned woman leading her away in the night reminds Dahlia of her odd dream before. The draw of Faith, the siren pulling someone away in the moonlight. But that’s silly, Dahlia tells herself, they’re climbing into a pickup truck drove by another church member, yelling goodbyes to Joseph and Dahlia with smiles on their face. Yet the image of a siren dragging a victim into the sea pricks at her mind, despite how asinine it may be.  

Dahlia shakes her head, wondering why her nerves have suddenly ticked up. She’s over this, isn’t she? Eden’s Gate is good, she reminds herself, one of the few good things in this county that’s actually helping people instead of letting them drift into the cracks. Despite everything she’s heard, they’re good.  Her personal issues is just fucking with her, that has to be it. 

“Are you certain you’ll be okay, Deputy?” Joseph asks as the truck rolls down the curves of the road, disappearing over the horizon, Cassie gone with it. 

“Uh, yeah, gave the guy a hell of a shiner so he should cut the shit for a while. Should be fine.” 

“Is it?” 

“Fuck if I know, but what am I gonna do, sit around and cry about it?” 

“I certainly wouldn’t expect you to, but if something does happen, you know you can come to me.” 

“Yeah, uh, it means a lot,” Dahlia scratches at the back of her neck, his gaze too intense again, “and thanks again for helping out Cassie. It means a lot, I really don’t know if I can thank you enough.” 

“You could always attend church, if you wanted to show thanks.” 

“Patient but persistent, I see, but, uh, not quite ready to cash in that promise yet.”

“I understand but, I’d be remiss if I didn’t caution you. My patience may be staggering, but the world is not so kind. Time is finite and you window for finding salvation may be closing quicker than you know.” His voice is fevered and impassioned,  hints of a southern accent peeking through as his intensity rises, awash in moonlight the glow of it around turns from a halo to an eerie glow.

“Okay, not holding back, are you?” Dahlia tries to laugh it off, religious folks are just like this sometimes, aren’t they?

“I would be doing you a disservice if I did.”

“So…you think the worlds ending?” She asks, trying to keep her tone light, the only other interpretation of her window closing is Joseph’s convinced she’ll die soon.

“You don’t?” He questions, brows furrowed, as if the idea of the world not ending is ridiculous. And…she kind of gets that.

“I didn’t say that,” she moves to lean her back against the church building, standing next to Joseph instead of before him, looking at the stars, “I mean eventually humans are gonna destroy the planet, climate change, corporate pollution, not to mention us just trying to kill each other half the time. And even if we don’t fuck it up, eventually time will, sun’s going to go to the next stage and destroy the earth. So…”

“You sense it coming, too..”  He presses his back against the wood next to her, no longer focusing his stare on her but the moon, maybe he sense her unease with his gaze…

“Yeah…I guess, don’t know when or how, but eventually…”

The itch of nerves under her skin is too strong, she digs a cigarette from it’s pack and lights it, smoking against the church building. John warned her it’s forbidden by Eden’s Gate, that Joseph wouldn’t like such an act, but he doesn’t stop her in the moment. Whether it’s another moment of him showing her kindness or just consideration for her not being apart of the church, she doesn’t know.  

“Yet, you still put off salvation.”

“Okay,” she exhales a plume of smoke, “I’ll bite, what’d that fix?”

“When the world collapses those who’ve followed the path to Eden, confessed their sins, atoned, and made their sacrifice will be the ones who walk into the garden, into New Eden. A world cleansed of sin and turmoil. The world will be pure again, free of pain.”

New Eden sounds like their heaven, essentially, to Dahlia. So, nothing truly new by any religious standards. Almost every Christian religion has a doomsday, revelation, apocalypse, end of the world and those who do what god wants get to be super happy in some magic paradise, while everyone else burns. Same stuff, new label.

“Well, as much as your concern for my immortal soul is appreciated, I’m gonna have to pass.”

“You’ll come to understand eventually… I just hope it’s not too late.”  

She scratches at the back of her neck again, his words leaving a bad taste in her mouth that mingles with the nicotine, it feels dismissive of her… Like he claims to know her feelings and where they’ll end up better than she does. There’s a habit among those older than her to assume they know how the world works more than she does, she chalks it up to an old man thing, and lets it roll off her back. He still helped her, despite his faults. 

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, but I do appreciate everything, I’ll have to when I get a chance call Cassie and see how she’s settles in.” 

“I’m afraid that won’t be so simple.” 

“What?” She turns to look at Joseph now, raising an eyebrow, why wouldn’t she be able to call Cassie?

“While Cassie is staying with us, we do expect her to abide by our rules. There are no cellphones permitted in the convent, I’m sure you understand.” 

“Oh,” Dahlia blinks, “guess that explains why not a single person was on their phone at the barbecue.” 

“Smartphones and social media have eroded people’s values, they’re more concerned with it than they are their own family.” 

“Okay, okay, I get it; the convent have a landline or Satan manage to get through that too?” His expression hardens, unimpressed by her quip, though she can’t help but smile. After a moment, he sighs. 

“There is a landline available there, but it’s typically reserved for church matters. If you wish to check on her, visiting and writing letters would be ideal.” 

“Got it, I’ll keep that in mind,” she moves from her spot against the church exterior, “thanks again, Joseph. I’ll talk to you, later.” 

“Have a nice night, Deputy.” 

“You too.” 

Dahlia stubs out her cigarette once she’s outside the compound’s gates, climbing onto her motorcycle. She didn’t realize how isolated Cassie might be there, if she’s not even allowed to call her friend. It just doesn’t sit right. But, Joseph’s far from the only old religious man to claim technology is bad. And if Cassie is living with them, it’s natural to expect her to follow the same guidelines as everyone else. It was already asking a lot for them to house her, it’d be unthinkable to expect special treatment as well. 

The trailer park is far calmer when she rides through, damage already done, Dahlia sighs at the sight of all the havoc they caused. It’s already well past midnight, but her night is far from done. There’s glass to be cleaned up and windows to be covered until she can get supplies to fix them properly. She could care less about the spray paint and if needed she can sleep through the chill, but she’d at least like to not sleep on broken glass. 

She’s parked and locked up her bike, walking up her porch when she hears the crush of steps, someone clearing their throat. Liam stands, hands in his pockets and a mottle of bruises across his eye. His blues eyes look anywhere but her. 

“Dude, seriously, just go. I-”

“I’m sorry…,” he mumbles, clearing his throat again, searching for words, “I didn’t know she was in there, I really didn’t. Clyde said she left out and he hadn’t seen her come back, we thought the place was empty and-”

“And? You could have killed her, ignorance don’t cure third degree burns!”  She’s taken steps towards him, nearly yelling in his face now, she can see hurt in his face. He may not have meant to take a life, but in one dumb moment he nearly did and he damn well needs to know that. 

“I know, I know, I just…no one got hurt, she, she ain’t hurt, right?” 

“No, thank fuck, but that doesn’t make it okay? Even if you didn’t hurt you, you scared the fuck out of her, this was suppose to be a safe place for her and you destroyed that!” 

“I’m sorry, okay, I… I can’t fuckin’ say sorry enough and I mean it. I just we were drinking and thought we’d see if we could run ya out of here, it got out of hand.” 

“You hate cops, I get that, I do and quite frankly you wanna give me hell, have at it. There ain’t anything you can do to me that hasn’t already been done. But shit like that doesn’t just affect me, hell, you could of set the whole damn place on fire.” 

“Yeah, I, fuck I nearly pulled a Sharky.” 

“I’m…not sure what you mean by that, ‘cause last thing I saw that man do was…very different. But, uh, if you’re doing that too you should stop.” Her stomach churns at the reminder of Boshaw in his jeep, she really was hoping she repressed that. 

“I don’t even wanna know,” Liam shakes his head, “but I am sorry about Cassie…I’d like to apologize to her, if she’s around.” 

“Fat chance of that man, I found her another place to stay, she’s somewhere safe and far away from your ass.” The convent isn’t particularly far away, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“I deserve that.” 

“Fuck yeah, you do.” 

“Well, I said my piece, I assume I’ll be seeing the inside of a cell tomorrow?” 

She chews her lip for a moment, he strikes her as genuine, in both his remorse and ignorance. He wasn’t trying to become a murderer, he only mean to run her out of the trailer park. And at the end of it all, Cassie is safe. 

“Nah man, it’ll  be fine, so long as you don’t pull this shit again. You do and I’ll be in jail for killing your ass.” 

“Gotcha…thanks…I think.” 

“Now, fuck off, I got a mess to clean. Unless you care enough to help?” 

“Hell no,  have fun, narc,” Liam scoffs at the idea and leaves, clear his remorse was only ever for Cassie’s sake. Asshole.  She watches him vanish into his own trailer before finally walking into her own to start on her night of work. 

That night and next day are monotonous, mess cleaned up and windows covered just as the sun starts to rise over the horizon. Muscles aching and a damp sweat clinging to her skin, she showers and catches a few hours of sleep. When she wakes up she’s off to the local hardware store and buying what she needs to fix the windows, as well as some damage done inside the trailer. 

The sun is setting on the next day by the time all the damage is attended to, well everything but the graffiti of PIG across the outside of the trailer. But, she doesn’t have the energy to wash it away. Lounging around her living room after another shower, Dahlia finds her mind drawn back to Cassie and The Seeds. 

No phone calls, only letter writing. It seems so unnecessarily archaic in the modern age, though she may mostly be whining because her handwriting is completely illegible. It’s too late to drop in on the convent, plus she doesn’t particularly want to move. After last night, she likes the idea of a lazy night. And with her long at time hard to predict workdays, it may not be possible to swing by for more than a moment until the weekend. 

She doesn’t have to write her letter, at least not by hand, she decides as she opens her laptop. She’ll type it up and print it out at the station, then she can send it like a proper letter, to appease Joseph’s hatred of tech. 

“Hey, Cassie, Deputy whatever (did I tell you my last name, legit can’t remember?) here. Joseph said you guys can’t like call? I guess? But you can get letters, so given my handwriting, typing it instead. I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re settling in. Maybe this weekend I can visit? I’ll treat you to lunch.”

That sounds alright, she decides, saving the typed letter. She drums her fingers against the table, searching for something else to maintain her attention. The Book of Joseph with her drawing tucked inside of it is still nearby, Joseph’s lecture of last night coming to mind. Maybe, she could write him a thank you letter? He seems like the kind of guy who’d appreciate that, she opens another document. 

“Dear Joseph,

That’s how you format a letter, right? Sorry, social media has “eroded” my soul and the art of letter writing is lost on my generation. That’s a joke, I hope it’s somewhat funny, if not sorry. My handwriting is atrocious, so I hope a typed letter still fits into your beliefs, since I’m trying here. I just wanted to thank you in some small way, despite some of our different beliefs, you’ve been incredibly kind to me and my friend. I read somewhere that drawings can be like gifts? So, I drew something for you. I hope it’s a nice gesture and not creepy, but it can’t be as creepy as the portrait in your book and creepy is kind of your thing, so. Also a joke, I promise I’m trying to be funny not mean… I’ll end this now, thanks again, Me, Cassie, and my eroded damned soul appreciate it. “

Dahlia saves the letter to Joseph, it’s messy and awkward, but so is she. She’ll print and mail them both out tomorrow. Hopefully, she won’t have to put her proper name on an envelope to send it. The idea of no one knowing her name is fun, she wants to play into it. The mysterious deputy who no one knows, sounds way cooler than she is. 

She stretches her arms out and puts her laptop aside, grabbing the Book of Joseph, the conversation with Joseph has renewed her interest in learning more about his beliefs. Even if they don’t align, even if she’ll never believe in god, the least she can do is try to understand. She made harsh initial judgments and still struggles with her past effecting her thoughts, making what could be nothing into red flags, this is a way to make amends. Even if Joseph isn’t able to see her efforts, it means something to her, growing as a person. 

“Not ice cream trucks, not social services cars, not even police patrols.

In any case. In these parts, people kept their noses out of other people's business, even when that business took place on a porch out in the open.

The father thrashed his arms furiously while the boy, young Joseph Seed stood with his head bowed, contrite and seemingly fixated on the floorboards. If he had looked up, he would have seen the kaleidoscopic colors of an old issue of Spiderman flashing by, alternating with the smooth black leather of his father's Bible and the ruddy face of the father himself. He would have seen the grey teeth-few and far between-of Old Man Seed, as the locals called him, or Old Man Seed behind his back, as Josephs big brother Jacob had snickered to him. Dental care was not a priority in the Seed household. The money was needed for other things. So, his father's teeth always reminded Joseph of the rocky crags that pirate ships washed up on in picture books at the library.”

She tries to see them, a young Joseph and Jacob on their porch. It’s both easy and difficult all at once. A part of her can easily see in her mind, the two young boys with freckled faces and bright blue eyes, one ginger and the other brunette. But, connecting that to who she knows to be Joseph and Jacob Seed is more difficult. It’s always weird to imagine old people when they were young, old to her she should specify.  To imagine the mountain that is Jacob Seed as a young boy, laughing behind his abusive father’s back. To see Joseph as a little boy reading comic books and pirate stories. The images seem so far removed from the tall intense older men she knows now. 

The life they’ve lived is one she knows well, no media beyond the bible, and beatings for breaking rules. But, her own abuser was more hidden, pretending to be a pillar of the community with his wonderful little church while beating her black and blue behind closed doors. Behind a church following service was the most brazen he ever became; it’s hard to imagine a man bold enough to beat his children in broad daylight on his porch. Though, she has no doubt what she reads is true. She’s seen Joseph’s back, his distaste for shirts making every scar a public display, she knows the lash marks well. Her own back marred with them as well. 

It makes her wonder, how they could be so different in their takeaways… Joseph if anything has turned to religion, leading his own church and group, taking issue with the sinfulness of modern media. Though, by no means an abuser, it’s hard to debate that he now shares qualities with his father, if only regarding religiosity. 

Dahlia once heard that people grow up to be their parents, particularly their same sex parents. Which is an all at once terrifying prospect for most people, but especially for people like her and the Seeds. The prospect she could be anything like her mother, watching passively as her own child is abused, bending to the will of a man and losing herself completely; is downright terrifying. Dahlia is determined to not let that happen, but it’s still a fear. She can see ways they match; both physically and in certain traits. Dahlia wonders if Joseph sees the way he matches his father and if those qualities scare him too. If he worries his faith has turned him into that same monster. She wonders too about Jacob, if his surliness is a part of that, if he sees any of his father in himself. 

“The priority in the Seed household, as everyone in the neighborhood knew, was cheap whiskey, which the father drank from dawn 'til dusk. The more whiskey that went in, the more Bible verses that came out -and the more often his children felt the switch. 

The cause of the paternal fury was simple: comics were forbidden in the home - comics and books, records, magazines, radio, and television. Only the Bible was allowed. 

Once, when the entire elementary school went to see Gone with the Wind at an old theatre in town, Joseph's father had leapt up in rage like a drunken jack-in-the-box, and before stunned teachers and students, launched into a rambling sermon condemning the sins of Hollywood, insisting this Babylon had long perverted the most fragile of minds and was responsible for the downfall of all of America, with Joseph under one arm and Jacob under the other, he stormed out of the room still hurling curses.”

Dahlia doesn’t have many blessings to count, but Monroe never dragged her from school with a sermon. Only making her withdraw and begin homeschooling the moment he learned the public school had the nerve to provide even shoddy sex education. But she’d take a quiet withdrawal from the system over being physically dragged out before everyone. 

“This time, when they arrived home, he beat Jacob only, because he was the eldest and thus responsible for his younger brother. At least the brothers had had time to see Atlanta burn. Thus, when Old Man Seed stood on the porch and began sliding off his belt, the child simply removed his T-shirt, folded it carefully, and bent over to offer his pale, delicate back to the worn-out strap of leather. 

Joseph's head was turned toward the well maintained- at least by local standards - house of a quiet, gentle widow. He considered it a blessing, if a small one. Facing the other way, he would have had to look at the other neighbor's house, which even by local standards was so run-down as to be hideous to the eye. When they were younger, the widow used to bake them cakes, probably out of pity for them. The children's mother wasn't exactly an impressive chef. She wasn't exactly a loving mother either. But the widow didn't bake much of anything anymore now that she was dying of cancer. Instead, she spent her days in her porch rocking chair, rain or shine, tottering gently. Jacob and Joseph argued over whether the groaning came from the wooden rocking chair or the old women.”

Dahlia closes the book, marking the page at that point, she can’t deny the intensity of the content and the impact it has on her. She can only stomach so much at a time, trauma too close to her own. Talks of a lackluster mother and the kindness of strangers only adding to it all. Maybe one day she’ll talk to Joseph about this, how he can bless those who hurt him in such a way,  how he has managed to be so open about it. It all seems to be a level of maturity she can’t imagine reaching, how much work and growth does it take to accomplish that?

She falls asleep that night thinking of just how much work she has left to do, just how far she has to go as a person. How long will it take her to be okay with her past? Thoughts fade to black as she succumbs to her heavy eyelids. 

The sun is bright and high in the bright blue sky, deceptively cherry for what her and Pratt are being called out to. Despite shifting opinions on Joseph, she can’t deny that the statue still creeps her the fuck out. As they drive further upward, the sheer scale of the cement monument takes her breath away. How much time and work went into that? Joseph doesn’t seem to have an ego, but to an outsider this downright makes him look like a narcissist. They don’t go fully up the mountain, where the trail forms stone circular steps and rings around the base of the statue. From where they park, she can see gazebos with flowers woven into them that line the open space around it. 

There’s a small crowd waiting for them at the base of the mountainside the statue is built on, a section of it just beneath the stone Joseph’s hand is carved slightly down. Ledges with spots to grapple along comes down to the ground. The statue blocks out the sun when they stand beneath it, the visage of Joseph towering over them like a kaiju is both terrifying and hilarious to the young deputy. 

The ambulance is already there, body bag being brought inside of it, sparing the deputies from seeing what remained of the person after they jumped. Rocky ground where the man would have hit is painted with a white Eden’s Gate symbol, blood now staining the dark rock and white paint. 

Faith and a few Eden’s Gate members are nearby. The youngest Seed sits on a stone, adorned in one of her delicate white dresses, her blonde hair pulls back in a soft ponytail today. Her feet are still bare, as if someone’s blood isn’t mere inches from her, as if a body bag isn’t being rolled into an ambulance. Faith leans back on her hands, humming softly, kicking her feet gently in tune to her little song. Does this even faze her?

“Not much to do here,” the EMT tells Pratt and Dahlia, “another suicide, guy hit his head off the cliff before he even reached the ground, dead on arrival.” 

“This happen a lot?” Dahlia asks, looking between Pratt and the EMT. They talked as if this happens every day. 

“Kinda, “ Pratt admits, “I mean, it’s easy to access and tall as fuck, people have been jumping off to die since the peggies finished building it.” 

“Hope County’s version of The Golden Gate Bridge.” 

“That’s…fucked.” 

“We gotta get to the morgue, call the next of kin, don’t know if there’s much else for you all to handle.” 

“Alright, thanks for the help.” 

Pratt and Dahlia wave off the EMT as the ambulance drives away; leaving the deputies with Faith and the Eden’s Gate members. It’s only natural to ask the owners of the statue a few questions, if they saw or heard anything. Faith seems to know this, given her soft smile as she waits for them, this really must be a normal occurrence. 

“Hello, deputies,” she greets them as they wander off, “it’s a shame really, that a symbol of hope is used by the hopeless to end their own suffering.” 

“I’m sure your heart is breaking, but, don’t suppose there’s any chance you saw anything?’ 

“No, I’m afraid no one was here this morning or late last night.” 

“Of course,” Pratt says, more annoyed than anything and if this is the typical, Dahlia can understand why. There’s not much they can really do, it’s a tragedy, but unless there was another party involved it’s not really a police matter. 

But, Dahlia wonders why the statue is so enticing a spot for suicide? It’s tall of course, the fall is a certain death. But, there are so many bridges around as well, not that she’s in that mental state at the moment but she imagines falling into water to die would be more enticing than hitting rock. And it’s odd as well, that the impact spot is marked with their symbol.

“Why is the ground painted?” 

“Hmm?” Faith hums out an inquisitive noise, blinking at the deputy’s sudden question. 

“The ground here, your church symbol is on it, I was just wondering why? Doesn’t seem like you can or would do much in this exact spot?” 

Dahlia’s reminded of a bible passage, one of many she recalls from her childhood. The story of Satan trying to tempt Jesus to jump from a high cliff in Jerusalem, that if he’s truly the child of god he’d be safe, to give a leap of faith. It sticks in the back of her mind, nagging at her, surely that wouldn’t be a thing? 

“Oh, I know it’s silly, but we like to put our symbol of hope and faith wherever we can, even in the smallest of places.” 

“Uh, this isn’t like a thing, is it?” Dahlia asks before she can stop herself. 

“Rook,” Pratt scolds her for the accusatory question. But Faith giggles. 

“You really have a vivid imagination, don’t you, Rook? I don’t imagine we’d keep many members if we were pushing them off a statue.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” that was dumb, Dahlia realizes the second she hears it out loud, “I think I’ve been watching too many horror movies.” 

“Next, you’ll be accusing us of drugging our members,” Faith says, giggling with a soft smile on her face and Dahlia laughs along, yeah, she’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay, well with that out of the way, we’ll get out of your hair,” Pratt speaks up, ready to go back to the station, not that there was much for them to do. 

“Uh, actually, I did wanna ask you something, real quick, about Cassie,” Dahlia pipes up, before they leave. Pratt raises an eyebrow, looking at Dahlia. 

“She’s settling in really well, she already feels like a part of the family, I assure you.” Faith squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, warm in it’s reassurance. 

“Thanks, I’m hoping I can visit before too long.” 

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” Faith captures both of Dahlia’s hands this time, grinning and stepping into the deputy’s personal space. Her and Joseph are both so touchy, it catches her off guard. 

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you Faith, but we really need to be headed back now, c’mon, Rook.” 

“Coming,” Dahlia calls out following behind a fast walking Pratt, one final wave goodbye to Faith. 

Dahlia is fastening her seat belt in the cruiser, Pratt starting up the engine and taking them back down that winding road. There’s a palpable tension that eases with every step away from that statue. Whoever at Eden’s Gate approved it is ridiculous. 

“Didn’t know you and Faith were so close.” 

“We get along alright, her and Joseph helped me out this weekend.” 

“What, you ditch the barbecue to hang out with peggies?” 

“No,” she rolls her eyes, “my friend Cassie was staying with me, some shit happened at the Moonflower, they offered to help her out.” 

“Since when do you have friends?” 

“Hahaha, hilarious. Look, it’s not like I planned for shit to go sideways, why do you even care?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Sure seems like you do.” 

“I don’t, you wanna run around with peggies, that’s your business, but it’s not gonna do you any favors around here.” 

“Oh no, are the popular girls not gonna like me if I sit with the peggies?” Dahlia says with mock worry, pressing her hand to her chest. What kind of high school bullshit is this?

“Shut up, I’m fuckin’ serious, the only people who like peggies are peggies. Since when do you like that shit anyway?”

“I don’t like it, I’m not into religion, you know that. Just, I don’t know, doesn’t mean they aren’t chill.” 

“Eden’s Gate is not fuckin’ chill, they’re weird and a pain in the ass.” 

“They’re definitely weird, you know social media has eroded my soul?”  

“What they find out you shared John’s shitty commercial on Twitter?” 

“Huh, no? How’d you know that?” Dahlia’s careful to keep herself hard to identify online, her Twitter has no name, job, or location. Though, unless Eden’s Gate is broadcasting their cheesy crap all over the nation, that’d be easy for a Hope County Native too figure out. 

“Petunia’s your icon on there.” 

“I didn’t realize you could tell the difference in opossums.” In Dahlia’s defense, Petunia looked adorable eating her lunch that day and again, she assumed anyone would just think it was a random opossum picture. 

“I know Petunia when I see her, give me some credit,” he rolls his eyes, “you know John’s gonna kill you if he does find out.” 

“Well, it’s a damn good thing Eden’s Gate doesn’t use social media then.” 

“Ah, yes, because as we all know no one ever disobeys their religion. I for one am still a picture perfect altar boy.” 

“Loo-you’re Catholic?” The realization hits her and she looks bewildered at her partner’s profile. Granted, she rarely thinks about anyone’s religion, but for Pratt it seems all the more confusing. He hardly seems religious by any standard. 

“I was raised Catholic,” he specifies and she nods her head, “Joey was too.” 

“Neither of you are anymore?” 

“I really can’t be bothered to give a fuck about it anymore, it is what it is, pretty sure Joey completely gave up on any of it.” 

“There’s not a lot of practicing Catholics in this area, is there?” She’s pretty sure Montana is mostly protestants. 

“No, the church in Falls End is Hope’s Catholic church, and it’s always been small. Me and Joey were damn near the only kids even.” 

Dahlia can’t help but smile, thinking of Hudson and Pratt as kids. She always had the feeling they’d known each other for a long while, both talking about Hope County like they’ve been here all their lives. Hudson is a little older, but not much, so it just makes sense that in this small a place they’d known each other as children. 

“How long have you guys known each other?”  

“We playing fifty questions or something?” 

“I’m curious!” 

“No, your turn asshole. You wanna grill me on religion and shit, you get it back.” 

“You already know how I feel about religion.” 

“I know you didn’t wanna go to church and were a weirdo about it, that’s it.” 

“Uhh,” she breathes, he’s right that it’s only fair to answer the same questions he answered for her, “my actual dad was Catholic, my mom  was Jewish, then she remarried a fundie Preacher, Pentecostal, so that’s how I was raised, unfortunately.” 

“So, you were zigzagged all over as far as that goes.” 

“Eh, I mean, before she remarried, neither my mother or dad were like devout or felt they had to raise me a certain way. Like, I think I vaguely remember getting both Christmas and Hannukah when I was three?”  She tries to pull up the fuzzy memory of when her mother, back when she was a true mother, helped her light a menorah and her dad hoisted her up to put a star on a modest Christmas tree. 

“You believe in anything nowadays.” 

“I consider myself an atheist at best.” 

“At worst?” 

“Well, if god does exist, he’s an asshole and I’d like to break his nose.” 

That gets a laugh out of Pratt and Dahlia grins, she knows it sounds silly, but it’s true. How she genuinely feels, she doesn’t think anyone is watching over them, no singular or multiple gods, but if any creator can watch idly by as everyone suffers… Not someone she’d want to be worshipping, quite frankly.  

The day winds down with little else for the deputies to do. Beyond the station windows the sky starts to turn pink, sun setting on another workday. Dahlia is fiddling with her phone, walking out of the station. 

“You coming to The Spread Eagle tonight,” Hudson asks her, “I know you haven’t really been since that asshole gave you a hard time.” 

“Oh uh, yeah, I could tag along.” Dahlia scratches at the back of her neck, feeling the heat climb up her face. She can see concern in Hudson’s olive-green eyes, which isn’t helping the blush across the young deputy’s face. 

“C’mon then, probie,” Pratt calls out, giving Dahlia a playful smack on the shoulder as he passes by. 

It’s the usual sight as Stray walks into The Spread Eagle; rock-folk music on the Jukebox tonight, couples dancing or sharing drinks, workers in flannels and dirty boots grabbing a drink after a long day. They slide into their usual seats, the youngest deputy between her two superiors, there’s a warmth to the  low lights and wood interior. Mary May’s soft smile greeting them as she serves the rest of the patrons. 

“I don't care if it rains!

Let's all go to the bar!

I don't care if there's a hurricane!

Let's all go to the bar!”

“I’ve been stuck on desk duty all day,” Hudson speaks over the music, starting the evening conversation with a groan, “so please tell me you two had something interesting happen.” 

“Suicide out at Joseph’s statue, that’s about it.” Dahlia shrugs, nothing else really of note. 

“Ugh, if I was near that statue I’d kill myself too.” 

“It gives my heebie jeebies the heebie jeebies, not gonna lie.” 

“Really, Rook, but Joseph’s your new best friend, remember?” Pratt cuts in to taunt the Junior Deputy.

“I have a finger for you.”

“You aren’t buddying up with the Seeds, are you deputy?” Mary May’s voice rings out as she sets drinks and food in front of the three officers, they hadn’t even ordered yet. Dahlia’s seen her do it with Hudson and Pratt, knowing the two deputy’s order inherently after years of routine. But it’s the first time she’s done it for Dahlia, knowing the youngest deputy’s favorite burger and soda. It’s nice and she’d love to spend a moment appreciating the coziness of it, but the weight of the bartender’s question hangs in the air. 

“No,” Dahlia assures her, though a part of her feels guilty, as if she’s compromising loyalties, “they helped me and a friend out, that’s all.” 

“Eden’s Gate doesn’t help anyone without expecting something in return, I know you’re new around here, deputy, but you need to be careful around them. They’ll do anything to have another cop wrapped around their finger.” 

“Woah woah,” Dahlia holds her hands up in mock surrender, “it was just a little favor, nothing big I promise.” 

“You don’t get it, that fami-“ 

“I think Merle is trying to flag you down for another beer,” Pratt interjects, saving Dahlia from the rest of the lecture. 

“Yeah, uh, just be careful, deputy.”  With that Mary May leaves them to serve Merle, some man with a mullet, another beer. 

“Sorry about that,” Pratt says, “forgot how weird she gets about the Seeds.” 

“Can’t blame her for it though, John Seed’s had it out for her family since they came here.” 

“I would like to change the subject.” 

“Pfft,” Pratt stifles a laugh at her blunt declaration, “alright, we can do that.” 

“Well, okay, how’d your break go?” 

“Mostly boring, other than when Pratt took me flying.” 

“You took her up in the helicopter?” Hudson asks, raising an eyebrow at the male deputy over Dahlia’s shoulder. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

“You seriously pulled that move on her?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Move?” 

“Pratt has a habit of bringing girls up in the helicopter, don’t you?” 

“I plead the fifth.” 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know it was fun, though.” Dahlia shrugs, she doesn’t really care if he brings other people up in the helicopter. She’s not really sure how it’s relevant or what Hudson means by it being a move; she had fun with her friend and he cheered her up. 

“Hear that, Joey, it was fun. Don’t put weird ideas in Rookie’s head. “

“Oh yeah, blame me.” 

“So, anything interesting happen at the station while I was gone?” 

“Well,” Hudson smirks, mischief in her eyes as she glances at Pratt again. 

“She doesn’t need to know about that.” 

“I think she does, the day after you went on leave-”

“I’d like to change the subject,” Pratt cuts Hudson off, mimicking Dahlia from earlier. 

“I don’t even know what the subject is yet!” The youngest deputy objects, laughing. 

“Well, a certain someone’s mom felt the need to come down to the station and let Whitehorse know just how wrong he is to put her precious son in harm’s way.” 

“Oh my god,” Dahlia says, unable to resist smiling, while Pratt’s buried his head in his hands, “your mom came to the station?” 

“Yes, yes, laugh it up.” 

“You call me a child and you have your mommy checking in on you at work?” 

“I didn’t invite her!” 

Pratt’s face is flushed bright red while Hudson and Dahlia laugh at his expense, but despite the embarrassing aspect, Dahlia can’t help but think it’s a little endearing. His mom must really love him. 

“She worry about you a lot?” Dahlia asks, core aching from laughing.

“Ugh, that’s a fuckin’ understatement.” 

 “Mama Pratt’s always been a little too worried about her baby boy,” Hudson taunts, reaching over the table to pinch at Pratt’s cheek, only for him to smack her hands away. 

“I’m sure that went over great when you went into law enforcement.” 

“She still gets furious at Whitehorse for putting us in danger.” 

“Us?” 

“She wasn’t very happy about me becoming a cop either,” Hudson admits and that makes sense, given what Pratt’s told Dahlia about them being close as kids, surely she’d be close to his mother. 

“And if she meets you, she’ll be in Whitehorse’s ear again.” 

“Huh?” 

“I can hear it now, ‘how could you put that little girl in danger, what’s wrong with you?’” Hudson tries her best to mimic Pratt’s mother, grinning at the ridiculousness of it, and despite herself…the idea of his mom doting on her the way she would Hudson. As if Dahlia could be as close to either of them, even if the idea of being seen as a vulnerable little girl is a bit patronizing. 

“Not gonna lie, I really want to meet your mom now.” 

“No.” 

“C’mon!” 

“No, not in a million years, I get enough hell from Joey and Beau, I don’t need it from you too.” 

Their conversation continues late into the evening as it so often does, just a few hours shy of staying until closing, early mornings the only thing that keeps them from staying later. Around the same time as they have every other night, they leave and say their goodbyes. Pratt and Hudson heading back to the small set of apartment housing that resides in the little town, while the youngest deputy rides back to the trailer park. 

She stops at the mailboxes, in the registration building, rows of them with their lot numbers associated with them. The printed letters for Cassie and Joseph heavy in her pocket. A part of her does feel guilty, mostly to Mary May, but it’s not as if they’re close friends and the bartender can’t expect Dahlia to avoid an entire family because of hearsay. And it’s not as if she’s joining up or spending every moment with them.  She shakes her head, stupid feelings, it’s not as if she has to choose sides. She can be thankful for the Seed’s help and still get along with Mary May. She tucks the letters inside her mailbox to be sent out then heads into her trailer, throwing herself down on her couch to sleep for the night. 

Hands on her, groping and prodding on Dahlia’s bare body. She screams and fights against them, unable to see whom they belong to, a mystery hidden by the logic of a dream. They feel different, but she sees no difference, each pair ink black as if monsters reaching from the void to defile her. They claw and grab; scratching over her ribs, locking fingers around her throat, squeezing at her thighs, and pressing over her mouth. The hands are everywhere and they smear black across her skin, smears and filth, reminders of their violation. They stain her skin, mark her flesh, and leave the aftermath of their violence on her body. 

And she fights. She kicks and she pulls, but it only spurs them to grab her more. Dahlia lashes out at the void that touches her, but it does not retreat. She bites at the ink fingers that push into her tongue, but the digits only press deeper in, sliding into her throat. 

She can’t be sure if she breaks away or they let her go, but their touch is gone, Dahlia dropping to her knees as if they were the only thing supporting her. Inky black slick across her skin where they touched her, heavy even on her tongue, finger prints within them. 

And she wretches as flowers bloom from the stains they’d left on her. Small blue flowers blossom forth bursting through the flesh of her tongue, sprouting from her throat and gagging her, soft petals falling from her lips. Those same vibrant blue flowers burst forth from her throat where she was choked. 

Red flowers bloom out from the flesh of her ribs, stacked blossoms along a single stem cutting through the tender skin, like blades. They follow the curve of the bones within her, just long beneath her breast where rough hands had torn at her skin. 

White petals, the most familiar as they recur so often and are a constant sight within the county. They grow through the plush of her thighs, not even blood or black tarnishing them as they push through her skin. They wind and weave as they come through like petal ropes around her . 

And her heart staggers a beat as a sunflower grows within it, then through her chest, a vivid yellow. Her eye burns, a pressure behind it as another great yellow bloom grows behind it, piercing the fragile membrane, blood falling from her socket, vision in the eye obscured from the flower that’s taken it’s place. 

She’s awash of yellows, blues, whites, and reds. Turned into a cruel art piece, body aching as her skin is open, her lungs choked, her heart stuttering to beat, and body protesting in agony. 

And she snaps awake, not jolting from her couch but twisting with a heavy cough, phantom tickles within her throat. She gags on something that doesn’t exist, heartbeat thundering and lungs burning. Dahlia takes a moment to gather herself, a cold sweat still clinging to her skin. Her clock informs her it’s four in the morning. 

She pushes back the hair that’s fallen into her face and lights up a cigarette, inhaling nicotine to ease her shaky body and frayed nerves. These dreams have only been getting more frequent and they’re starting to fuck with her. She can’t live with having a heart attack every other night and barely getting sleep. 

Once she’s filled her lungs with smoke, let the burning cigarette nearly singe her fingers before she tosses it out. Dahlia throws on the lights, blinking through the way it blinds her after so long of darkness, but she ignores the sleep heavy in her eyes as she grabs her drawing pad, sitting at her coffee table on the floor letting her mind lead her hand. 

Sunflowers she knows, the flower iconic enough in identity for her to know it and with the white flowers being so around the county, she could easily be able to figure out what they are. She thinks they’re called moonflowers, given the name of the trailer park and that a field of them surround them. But she sketches them out, along with the other flowers she saw. Four types of flowers on the page. She needs to get them on paper while they’re fresh in her mind. And then in the crux of them all, she draws out the layered ones from her previous dreams. 

She plans on looking them up, flowers have significance and meaning, she’s heard that before that people can plan bouquets to communicate messages. She’s never cared about flowers in her entire life, so she has no idea why on earth they’d such a recurring theme in her dreams be. 

Dahlia feels more relaxed now that she’s smoked and gotten the images of the flowers on paper. She’ll search for her answers later, after she’s gotten more sleep. Nerves and body relaxed, she curls back up on her couch, letting herself fall into a dreamless sleep. 

It’s a few hours past noon the next day, a slow day of just tickets, the young deputy’s head is against her own seatbelt. Her eyes are starting to close despite the amount of energy drinks she’s consumed. She managed to salvage a few hours of restful sleep, but not nearly enough to keep her awake through an already boring day.  Her eyelids are impossibly heavy, each blink growing longer and longer. 

“Rook!” 

“I’m awake!” Dahlia says with a jolt, Pratt’s voice and a shake of her shoulder waking her back up. 

“Are you?” Pratt asks while laughing and she pinches at the bridge of her nose, a headache coming on. 

“I didn’t sleep well last night.” 

“What were doing?” 

“Wasn’t doing nothing; just bad dream,” she tells him, shrugging. 

“Units near the Orchard please respond,” Nancy from dispatch’s voice crackles over their radio, they’re still in the Valley and maybe five minutes from the giant orchard.

“Deputy Pratt responding.”

“Debbie and Doug called in a robbery, suspect has fled the scene, but they’re still requesting an officer to file a report.” 

“We’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up the receiver, “wake up, Rookie, we have to actually work today.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe,” he admits, acknowledging that it’ll likely just be an hour of talking, writing down a report, and then leaving. 

They drive past the pumpkin farm, Dahlia unable to resist smiling when she sees Boomer playing with his owners, weaving through the gourds. She’s reminded of her first day, stopping to pet the dog to dispel her own nerves. Then the apple trees filter in, bright red and shining in the light. Each tree is overflowing, a few crates out fill with the fruit, apples that have fallen on the ground. 

Pratt pulls up to the orchard’s packing facility past the market stall that advertises cider tasting. There’s a man and woman standing in front of the large open packing facility; the building painted red with green roofing, the open doors showing the crates and machines. The smell of crisp apples hits Dahlia as she gets out of the cruiser, mixing with the fresh air, she feels more awake than she was before. Rarely, but sometimes, the beauty of the county manages to lift her spirits. 

“What’s going on?” Pratt asks the couple. 

“Someone,” Debbie gives a pointed look at her husband Doug, arms crossed, “left the office key in the stall again, next thing we know, someone cleared out our safe.” 

“Hey, don’t blame me.” 

“Well who the fuck am I suppose to blame?” 

“That fuckin’ church would be a goddamn start.” 

The tension is palpable as the couple argues, body language tight and wrought with frustration. Stray can’t tell if Debbie is about to cry or scream, maybe both. Doug looks as if he’d like to rip the earth up and bury himself beneath it. 

“Everybody calm down, did anyone see anything suspicious?” 

“John fuckin’ Seed and his band of goons were here earlier, no one saw him grab the key, but no one else would have. Son of a bitch has it out for us.” 

“Alright, you wanna take me back to the office, I’ll have a look around,” Pratt asks Doug. 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

“You mind staying out here and talking to me, Debbie?” Dahlia offers, she’s not the most comforting person in the world, but the older woman clearly needs to get some stuff off her chest. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

Doug and Pratt go back to the office within the packing facility, leaving Dahlia alone with Debbie. 

“Lets find a place to sit down and just breathe for a minute, alright?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Debbie agree and Dahlia places what she hopes to be a comforting hand on the woman’s back, guiding her into the market stall where she saw benches. 

She settles in across from Debbie, who wrings her hands together. 

“No pressure and you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but if you need an ear, I’m willing to listen.” 

“Don’t even know where to start, ever since John Seed set his sights on the orchard, it’s been a nightmare.” 

“He been making life hard for you?” 

“That’s the understatement of the god damn century, that church has been buying up properties since they got here. The railyard, the old summer camp, the veterans center, the conservatory; list goes on…I use to wonder why everyone sold out to them, but I fuckin’ get it now.” 

“They’re persistent?” 

“They’re fucking heartless. Me and Doug built this place from the ground up; John Seed made an offer and we said no. Next thing we know; roads are blocked so our shipments can’t go out, they buy up the fertilizer plant and we can’t use it to help the new crops, cargo trucks are toting away product in the dead of night, and now this shit. We’ve been hemorrhaging cash ever since he set his sights on us. Got an attorney involved and all they did was charge us.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you.” 

“We had a good year for crops, thought we’d break even if nothing else, then what little we got was taken. I can’t even pay my god damn workers, we’ve had to let go of folks who’ve been here for years because they couldn’t keep working for free cider.” 

The woman lets out a breath, body deflating as she finally gets everything off her chest, but her blue eyes are brimming with tears. Dahlia offers her a tissue from her pocket, not sure what else she can do, watching the woman dab at her eyes. Despite the help Joseph and his church has given to Dahlia and Cassie, this sort of behavior can’t be enabled. Theodore was stealing booze from The Spread Eagle, on the order of John Seed, when she first came here. Lonny hasn’t exactly been shy about insinuating he should just be allowed to take her motorcycle. So, it’s not far fetched to imagine them getting greedy. As ironic as it is to attach a sin to church goers. 

“They can’t do that shit.” 

“But they do, no evidence though, nothing can be done. If the cops even bother to show up, no offense, but a lot of your station ain’t doing their fucking jobs.” 

“No offense taken, I’m not gonna sit here and tell you every cops here for the right reasons. But, uh, if there’s something I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Short of a miracle, I don’t think there’s much we can do. Take John’s next offer, try to fuckin’ survive.” 

“There has to be a way for you guys to keep the orchard,” Dahlia murmurs more to herself than Debbie, at the end of it all the young deputy doesn’t have a dog in the fight. But, her heart does break for the couple and she wants to find some way to help. 

“I’m willing to try anything at this point.” 

“Ever think of doing any kind of apple festival or something? I mean people do that, sounds nicer than one for testicles.” 

“Pssh,” she laughs a little at the way Dahlia wrinkles her nose, “it’d take a lot of work to get something like that set up.” 

“I mean, do you really think the rest of the county won’t come together to help, you can do stands, have food, games, charge some money. I mean, it’s an idea.”

“We got stands for the market, don’t know if I can cook for a whole county though, if they even show.” 

“Do you think Casey or Chad would help out?” Dahlia brings up the cooks from the Spread Eagle and Grill Steak. Small communities are suppose to come together in times of crisis, that’s the hope at least. Lloyd always told her that’s what he loved about Hope County and Reinette, everyone’s willing to pitch in. 

“Maybe… Casey knows the runners of the Testy Festy too, he could help up get vendors and games set up, I…ya think we can actually do this?” 

“Way I see it, best case scenario, it gets you through the rough spot, sticks it to John Seed, and you could do it every year for an income boost. Worst case scenario, you go down swinging, having some fun,  and with friends by your side,” Dahlia tells her honestly with a shrug, she doesn’t want to give false hope, but even in worst case scenario, it’s worth it to go down swinging. 

“That’s,” she smiles, tears clearing, she looks hopeful finally, “that’s hard to argue with, you gonna help?”

“Of course, I can see about talking to Casey tonight even.” 

“Deb?” Doug’s voice calls out and the women leave the market stall, Doug and Pratt have come back from the office Pratt raises an eyebrow, eye drifting from the now happy Debbie, to Dahlia. Silently asking her what the hell happened. 

“There wasn’t anything that can pin it on anyone, no security footage or prints, sorry,” Pratt tells her. 

“I figured… Doug, me and Deputy….” she searches for Dahlia’s name only to realize she doesn’t know it, “…her have been talking, what do you think about throwing together a festival?” 

“A festival?” 

“Yeah, we could get the county together, might just be what saves this place. I…just…I don’t wanna give up yet. She said she’d help, I think, I think we can do this.” 

“We’d need to move fast and a festival take a lot of time to set up.” 

“I mean, we get enough people on board, I can’t see why we can have it ready to go by, next Friday, the 10th?” Dahlia cuts in to help, that’d give them a little over a week, short notice but not impossible. 

“You planning on helping?” 

“Of course,”Dahlia beams, but no reason she can’t volunteer some more help, she throws an arm over Pratt’s shoulder, “we’d both be happy to help anyway we can.” 

“What?” Pratt asks blankly and she just gives him a friendly smack on the chest, if he can force her into a church barbecue, she can damn well rope him into helping a local business. 

“Well then, I think next Friday could work,” Doug admits. 

“We could hold it Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. An entire weekend for everyone to come together, have some fun and maybe save this place,” Debbie tells him, smiling wide.

“Okay, lets do it.” 

“Hell yeah.” Dahlia grins, the formerly frustrated and desperate couple are now smiling bright as can be. Warmth is burning in the rookie deputy’s chest, proud that she can help them get those smiles back. 

“Yeah…well, guess I can help,” Pratt admits, still glaring at Dahlia in his peripheral, she’s just amazed he hasn’t pushed her off of him yet. 

“I’ll try to talk to Casey tonight, if the bars too busy, I’ll try tomorrow. Then I’ll get in touch with Chad, ask around about music, games, anything we could need.”

“Gotta find a way to advertise it.” 

“I’ll figure it out,” Dahlia tells them, confident she can put it together, “you guys worry about getting the orchard set up, getting food, cider, prices, and all that figured out. And if you need anything just call down to the station and ask for Rook.” 

“Thank you, seriously, both of you.” 

“No problem,” Pratt says, though there’s a sigh in his voice, “our probie here just loves to help people.” 

“Well, it is my job, speaking of which, you said the church is blocking the roads?” 

“Yeah, our trucks can’t even get a shipment out.” 

“Do you know where they’re set up?” 

“Yeah, the road that leads from Holland valley out to Missoula, if you follow it far enough, why?” 

“Public roads legally can’t be blocked,” Pratt explains for her. 

“So, we’re gonna pay them a quick visit.” 

“Thanks again, we’ll be in touch, Deputy.” 

They wave off the couple, saying their goodbyes as they climb back into the cruiser. A beat of silence passes without Pratt starting the engine. 

“What the fuck, Rook?” 

“What?” 

“You know your getting yourself into deep shit, right? Pissing off the church right after they helped you out?” 

“Them helping me out ain’t a free pass to do whatever they want. I can get along with someone and still hold them accountable for their bullshit. They have no right trying to railroad Debbie and Doug like that.” 

“And you have no right dragging me into it.” 

“You volunteered me for the fuckin’ church barbecue.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How?” 

“We were off the clock, not work hours.” 

“What about trying to pressure me into going to the Rye barbecue, while at Redlers, technically on the clock.” 

“That was also different.” 

“How?” 

“’Cause you’re the rookie and I’m allowed to be mean to you.” 

“No, that is not how that works!” 

“Is too, the entire point of hiring rookie cops is to hassle them, you don’t get to hassle back.” 

“Well, too bad, fucker we’re throwing an apple festival.” 

“Jesus christ.” 

“It’ll be fun.” 

“It’ll be a pain in my ass,” he says, grumbling as he starts the engine, taking off out of the orchard. 

Dahlia sticks her tongue out at him as they wind through the roads. Apple trees become the usual firs and pines, road signs starting to indicate they’re in route to Missoula. The young deputy watches the woods pass by, where the trees meet the blue sky, farmland occasionally breaking the landscape with cows meandering around. 

It’s not long before they come to a stop and sure enough, large slabs of concrete are across the roadway. White trucks bearing the Eden’s Gate symbol are slotted behind them, black flags with the symbol in white stream from the back, and sturdier white vans are nearby as well. Members of the church are gathered there, woman with overgrown hair and men with hairy faces, a few she recognizes. All looking at the stopped cruiser with some measure of anger or worry. 

“Hey, deputy,” it’s Waylon who greets Dahlia, smiling at her, “what seems to be the issue?” 

“Your blocking public roads,” Pratt is the one to answer. 

“Oh, see the thing if, the church is having some property worked on nearby. So, we really can’t have anyone driving through here, it’s temporary of course.” 

“You can’t do that, though,” Dahlia explains, “if you need to fence off private property, you need to do it along the property line. Unless you have permission from the state, you cannot block public road access.” 

“Deputy please, surely you understand.” 

“Waylon,” she puts a hand on his shoulder, “you know we get along and I don’t have anything against the church, but blocking the road affects everyone else. If you really need roads blocked off, you need to contact the right people and get permits first, okay?” 

“Understood.” 

“Okay, then, just clear out and everything will be fine.” 

He doesn’t seem happy, none of the church members do, but that’s the rules. She can’t even understand why’d they ever need to block the roads, if she didn’t know any better she’d think they were trying to keep people from leaving. 

They drive the trucks and vans away; Dahlia and Pratt even helping move the concrete blockades off the road. Why do they even have those? 

There’s still a sour note in the air once the block is cleared and the deputies have pulled away. She hates this weird back and forth; the church helping her but then doing something that gives her reason to doubt them. Wanting to be their friend but needing to put her foot down; wanting them and both the people who hate them to like her. Torn between the two as well as her child; like an unfortunate child in the midst of their parent’s divorce and she’s being forced to choose one. 

It’s getting close to evening, when they pull up to the station to put in the report. The usual folks are in the bullpen, Hudson working at her computer with a mug of coffee and Brennan at his desk as well. The faces she’s come to know the best outside of Pratt. He plops himself down into his chair at his desk and Dahlia decides to grab another energy drink from the kitchen first.

She’s managed to rummage through the collection of tana cola bottle to find it, cracking it open with a yawn as she leaves the kitchen. 

“…it wouldn’t have been so bad if Rook didn’t volunteer me for some bullshit.” 

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic.” 

“Jesus fuck,” Pratt jolts in his chair, nearly toppling it over, “that’s it, we’re getting you a god damn bell!” 

“Didn’t know you were into that, Staci,” Brennan says with a snicker. 

“Shut up.” 

“Oh, please, no one’s buying it,” Hudson says, rolling her eyes. 

“There’s nothing to buy, Rook is an annoying shit, who just grabbed me and volunteered me for bullshit.” 

“You’re such a baby.” 

Dahlia reaches out and flicks his ear, laughing when Pratt grabs her hand, fingers intertwining as he tries to push her back. She brings her other hand up, trying to reach out and flick him with her other hand.  But he grabs it in the same way, the two pushing against each other, both grinning like children. She’s not even sure what the goal is and Pratt probably doesn’t either. But then his office chair wheels slide back from the force and she’s found a goal, pushing Pratt across the room. No particular reason for it other than the idea of watching him sail across the bullpen makes her giggle.  But he won’t let go of her hands enough that she can push him without him dragging her too. 

“The hell are you two doing?” Whitehorse’s voice booms out when he walks in to see the two deputies horsing around. 

“Being idiots.” 

“I don’t know, looks like flirting to me.” 

Hudson’s insult and Brennan’s teasing makes red flush up the two bickering deputy’s cheeks. They’re technically holding hands and leaning into each other’s personal space, Dahlia realizes. Pratt suddenly drops her hands, jolting away as if her skin has burnt his, and pushing his chair away from her. Nearly toppling over a trashcan in his haste. 

“Yeah why the hell you holding my hand, Rookie?”

“You grabbed my hand first, asshole!” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, you did.” 

“You did.” 

“You absolutely did.” 

Hudson and Brennan agree with Dahlia, Pratt’s face going from pink to scarlet. Whitehorse rolls his eyes, no doubt questioning his hiring decisions. How any of them still have jobs is a mystery, except Hudson. 

���How’d things go at the orchard?” The sheriff asks, adjusting his cowboy hat. He really does look like such a stereotype. 

“We couldn’t find any evidence of who broke into the office, they grabbed the key, so I told Doug he should look into changing the locks and investing in some security cameras. They’re dead set on it being John or someone with the church though,” Pratt explains, rolling his chair back up to his desk. 

“You know it was,” Brennan scoff, “damn church is destroying the whole county.” 

“Now, now, you can’t go making accusations without evidence, I just hope Debbie and Doug can bounce back.” 

Dahlia doesn’t miss the roll of Brennan’s eyes and the sneer on his lips, he doesn’t like Eden’s Gate or Whitehorse’s attitude towards them it seems. She’s rarely seen the officer without a smile, but lips curled and leg bouncing, he seems a moment away from flipping the desk in front of him. 

“Well, if Rook’s plan works, they’ll do fine.” 

“Your plan?” Whitehorse looks at her with a raised eyebrow; her fellow deputies and Brennan all look at her expectantly as well. She scratches at the back of her neck, skin prickling at the attention. 

“Oh, uh…well, I figured they could do like an apple festival, be fun for the county and help raise some money for ‘em.” 

“That the plan you were bitching about, Pratt?” Brennan raises an eyebrow at him. 

“It’s a pain in the ass and the Seed family is gonna be pissed.” 

“So, apple pie and pissing off the Seeds, I’m fuckin’ sold,” Brennan sticks his fist out to Dahlia and she bumps her knuckles to his, grinning, “anything I can help with, just say the word.” 

“Seriously, see why can’t you be my partner?” 

“Hey, rude.” 

“’Cause we’d never get Pratt to stop whining about it.” 

“What the hell, you’re suppose to be on my side, Beau.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” 

“I’m willing to help out too if I can,” Hudson cuts in between the banter, eyes soft, “I still remember going apple picking there with my family, I don’t wanna see Doug and Debbie lose that place.” 

“Yeah…that place has a lot of memories for everyone,” Pratt admits, hazel eyes deepening with nostalgia. 

“Still remember the first year you came with us,” Hudson grins, “Mark tried to lift you up to grab an apple and you just started sobbing.” 

“Your brother was trying to kill me and I stand by that,” Pratt smiles as he pretends to defend himself. 

“When are Deb and Doug planning on having the festival?” Whitehorse asks Dahlia. 

“Aiming for the next Friday, the 10th, they wanna see if they can do it the whole weekend too.” 

“Lot of work to get done if that’s gonna happen.” 

“I know, I’m planning on talking to Casey as soon as I can. See if he’ll help cook and if there’s any testy festy supplies or vendors he can help with.” 

“Mary May has a live band that plays once a week, they might be willing to play,” Hudson offers. 

“Think they’d work cheap or free? I’d hate to stiff anyone and I’ll pay whatever I have too out of my own pocket, but the last thing we want is the festival costing more than it makes,” Dahlia explains, leaning against the wall as she talks it out. 

“If they’re not willing to work any or all of it, we could always talk to Wheaty too.” 

“Wheaty?” 

“Kid who lives up North,” Brennan points in the general North direction, “he’s been obsessed with starting a radio station for years, he’ll basically DJ anything for free just to show off his vinyl collection.” 

“That could work too.” 

“Addie would probably help with money for it, honestly, just throw some advertisements up for the Marina.” 

“Hell, if me and Staci ask her, she’d probably do it anyway,” Brennan gives a wide toothy smile. 

“Gross, but true.” 

“Didn’t Grace use to do those shooting competitions at fairs and shit, letting people pay to try and outshoot her?” 

“Yeah,” Hudson nods to Pratt’s suggestion, “she hates the attention, but if it’s for a good cause I’m sure she’d do it.” 

“I don’t think the Fowler brothers would bring Cheeseburger, since they gotta watch what he eats, but they might be willing to bring down some animals for people to see.” 

“Hell, if we could convince Rae Rae to bring Boomer; people will show up just get a picture of him.” 

“Pie eating contest would draw people in too.” 

“Lorna would probably make pasties for it if we asked.” 

Dahlia can’t help but grin at all the ideas and suggestions; a fire seemingly ignited in everyone. There’s a warmth in her chest and a swelling sense of pride that she could get everyone on board. The orchard means a lot to the county, not just Debbie and Doug. And she may actually be able to save it. 

“Woah woah, hold on now,” Whitehorse calls out and Dahlia stiffens, this technically isn’t police work, “is anyone writing all this down? Not gonna do anyone a lick of good if we forget something.” 

He smiles, blue eyes soft as Hudson grabs a piece of paper, writing down the ideas that’ve been said so far. Whitehorse is giving his stamp of approval and that pride in her chest only swells bigger, thumping against her ribs and making her smile widen. 

“Rook.” 

“Yes, sheriff?” 

“As long as you keep an ear to your radio, don’t see any reason you can’t work on some of this during work, alright?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Good, Debbie and Doug deserve the best and we’re damn well gonna give it to ‘em, that’s an order.” 

The sheriff ruffles her hair before he leaves and her face hurts from smiling so much. She pulls up a chair to the desk, sitting with Hudson, Pratt, and Brennan as they keep working on ideas. All four stay past their shift hours; scribbling down all possible ideas, who they should reach out to and who should be the one to talk to them. Dahlia smiling the entire time as they talk late into the evening. 

[currantlee]

German Postillon articles about the US Election translated

@theeeveetamer sent me this post in which someone translated German Postillon headlines about the US Election. Der Postillon is a German satire website disguised as a newspaper, kind of the German equivalent to The Onion.

So, I translated one of the articles for her and it was really, really fun. So I thought I might do more and share it on my blog so hopefully more people can have a laugh!

But first of all...

Gotta keep the American Spirit on this blog everyone!

Before I continue though: Please keep in mind that the Postillon is a satire website! None of the news in this post are actually true, it’s just meant to have a good laugh. I am repeating this again: none of these are actually real! I also want to make clear that none of those were written by me, I merely translated them! Credit to all the original texts and pictures goes to the Postillon. Except for the American flag. Credit to flickr for that one.

Anyways, let’s go and hopefully have some laughs.

Experts are certain that Donald Trump is going to win the Election because 2020 has been a shitty year so far anyways

Washington D.C. – Joe Biden hopes to put an end to Trump’s presidency after four years: he is clearly ahead in the polls on this Election Day. Despite that, most experts are sure that Trump will win – because so far, 2020 has been a shitty year anyways!

“If you look at the average of the national polls, Joe Biden is currently more than 8% ahead of Trump,” politic scientist Marianne Waters from the renowned Princeton University explains. “This means that his lead is way greater than Hillary Clinton’s in 2016. Under normal circumstances, you’d say that he’s already won the Election.”

She pauses for a second. “But now, please think about what a fucked up mess of a year 2020 has been so far! And then, think again about whether or not the American people are that fucked up in their brains to elect this human catastrophic failure for four more years! We’re talking about a year in which a global pandemic is going rampant across the planet anyways, we’re seeing islamistic and nazi terror attacks at the daily and entire havens are exploding ‘completely by accident’! Is there anybody who seriously believes in a sensible result of this election?!”

At least, scientists aren’t fully ruling out the possibility of Biden winning the Election. However, because this is 2020, the chance of an asteroid hitting the earth five minutes after this has happened is nothing but small.

– Der Postillon, 3rd of November 2020 (Original title: Experten sicher, dass Trump gewinnen wird, weil 2020 eh schon ein Scheißjahr ist). Translated by Seaberry Siren

“Oh Shit!”  – Putin completely forgot to manipulate the US Election

Moskow – How can one be so scatterbrained! Wladimir Putin just realized to his very own horror that he completely forgot to manipulate the US Election. Now, his candidate Donald Trump is in trouble.

“Bljad! {T/N: Russian for “crap”} I knew I forgot something really important!”, Putin says. “But due to all the inner politics, the corona virus and all the other countries our hackers need to manipulate elections in, I totally forgot about the United States! This is just great!”

He turns to his assistant. “Dima! USA! Can we turn something around there? ... No? ... Really?! And if we deliver arms to the... How are those guys called again... Proud Boys? WHAT?! They already have enough of those?!? Oh well.”

However, in the end, Putin puts up with the situation after all: “Ah, we’ll see. Maybe everything will turn out fine one way or another.” He turns to his assistant again: “Dima, make an appointment with Donald Trump jr. as soon as possible! I heard he is is just as dumb as his father and has political ambitions as well. We’ll survive Biden until 2024.”

– Der Postillon, 4th of November 2020 (Original title: “Ach Kacke!” – Putin hat völlig vergessen, US-Wahlen zu manipulieren). Translated by Seaberry Siren with help from Theeeveetamer

Employees of the Oval Office try to stop Trump from tweeting “CIVIL WAR!!!! Kill all Democrats!”

Washington D.C. – While votes are still being counted all over the USA, dramatic scenes start to unfold in the White House. Currently multiple employees are trying to prevent President Donald Trump from grabbing his smartphone in order to tweet the words “CIVIL WAR!!!! Kill all Democrats!”.

“No Mr. President!”, an assistant shouts as she holds Trump’s arm. “Don’t do this! I have a family! I don’t want a civil war! Jack, restrain him, damnit! Anna, don’t stand there and stare so stupidly, help us! Ian, put his smartphone as far away as you can!”

In the meantime, countless citizens of the USA are wondering why Trump didn’t tweet anything for more than seven hours.

“Leave me alone!”, Trump cries as he desperately tries to reach his smartphone. “They want to steal my election by letting every vote count! Even those of the Democrats! I WANT TO SEE BLOOD!!!”

Meanwhile, outside of the White House, more and more people are speculating that Trump could accept a possible loss due to his silence on Twitter.

– Der Postillon, 4th of November 2020 (Original title: Mitarbeiter versuchen Trump davon abzuhalten, "CIVIL WAR!!!! Kill all Democrats!" zu twittern). Translated by Seaberry Siren

Not that as well! Half-Blind 100-year-old man who counts all the votes by his own dies of old age

Harrisburg – Oh no! Everything is going to take even longer now! James Reed, the 100-year-old man tasked with counting all the votes of the US Election surprisingly just died.

“Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to task one man of his age with the counting of millions of votes,” the chief of the Electoral Office stated. “Unfortunately, he was the only one with a license for this important job.”

After the closing of the polling stations, Reed, who was responsible for counting the votes since the 1970s, traveled from state to state in order to count all the votes.

“He took his job very seriously. He’d often take 20 minutes in order to count a single vote,” an election assistant recalls as tears of gried run over her cheeks. “But just after he counted 92% of the votes at Michigan, he suddenly fell from his chair.”

The doctor who was called immediately could only confirm the death of the 100-year-old man.

The worst part is that Reed didn’t get to name a successor before his passing. This is why the authorities are desperately searching for a new person able to lift sheets of paper, read printed letters, ánd count one by one at the same time. Due to the American education system, this is going to be a challenge {T/N: Germans throwing a bit of shade here when their own education system isn’t something to be proud on either}.

– Der Postillon, 4th of November 2020 (Original title: Auch das noch! Halbblinder 100-Jähriger, der allein alle US-Stimmen auszählt, an Altersschwäche gestorben). Translated by Seaberry Siren

US Election: Trump lies way out in front

Washington D.C. – A good chunk of the votes of the US Election have been counted by now and there seems to be a trend: Donald Trump clearly lies way out in front! As expected, the President of the United States is taking the lead in the traditionally Republican states. But even in the Swing States, he already sees himself as the winner, even if it’s only with very little sanity.

“Trump clearly lies way out in front,” the politics expert Dean Jefferson affirms. “As in: he stands in front of an audience and lies their heads off!”

Many didn’t expect that Trump could lie way out in front this comfortably at this point of the cote count. Other less optimistic individuals had predicted a neck-and-airhead race {T/N: in German that’s Kopf-an-Hohlkopf-Rennen, literally head-on-airhead race} from the beginning.

– Der Postillon, 5th of November 2020 (Original title: US-Wahl: Trump lügt vorne). Translated by Seaberry Siren

Damned mess of a US Election STILL isn’t over!

Washington D.C. – FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!!! At some point, enough is enough, isn’t it? The damned mess of a US Election STILL isn’t over after three days of counting the votes because the people in some Federal States apparently can’t manage to count the ballots!

Seriously: can they even count at all? Didn’t they know that the voters like to turn their ballots in with a vote on them and that you have to count these votes in order to determine a winner?!?

An average election of the Federal Congress {T/N: they mean the German Federal Congress, also known as the Bundestag} is finished, predicted and decided one second after closing the polling stations {T/N: Yes, German elections are that boring}. An official end result is provided in the next morning at the latest! How in the world can the Americans be trundle as fuck like this?!?

Suggestion: we ignore the entire shitshow over there for the next few weeks until those idiots have punched their faces in and once the victor is clear, there is one short headline: “Winner of the US Election: [insert winner’s name here]”. Then this whole crap would... WHAT?? Biden takes the lead at Georgia by 900 votes? Wowowowow! Just a moment please, I’ll have a look at the livetracker. Did CNN already comment on this? Nate Silver already tweeted as well... This has to be it for Biden! Now it can’t take much longer!

OH MY GOD, HOW EXITING!!!

– Der Postillon, 6th of November 2020 (Original title: Verdammte Drecks-US-Wahl immer noch nicht zu Ende!). Translated by Seaberry Siren

“If I can’t have it, then nobody will!” – Trump sets the White House on fire

Washington D.C. – A victory of Joe Biden in the US election is becoming more and more likely. But the answer to the question whether the Democrat is really going to move into the White House could be decided by a completely different factor than the votes – because apparently, Donald Trump is trying to burn the White House down now.

“If I can't have it, then nobody will!”, the US President says as he spreads gasoline at strategic points while he starts laughing manically: “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Shortly after, the Oval Office is up in flames. “Let’s see how Sleepy Joe will rule from a burned-down ruin!”, Trump exclaims with a shrill voice as he adds more fuel to the fire. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Burn, my little fire, burn!”

Directly before publishing this article, Trump realized that this wasn’t the best idea as he cut off his own escape route with the last bits of the fuel. “Oh! So this wasn’t very clever... IVANKAAAAAAA!! The Democrats set me on fire! Rescue the best president of all time!!!”

– Der Postillon, 6th of November 2020 (Original title: “Wenn ich es nicht haben kann, soll es keiner haben! – Trump setzt Weißes Haus in Brand). Translated by Seaberry Siren

"Enough!” – The Queen reclaims the United States for the British Empire

London – She’s got enough of this nonsense! Queen Elizabeth II. announced the return of the United States to the British Empire. A new, freshly assigned gouverneur will arrive in Washington shortly and take over the government business.

“We have been watching this unworthy ham without doing anything for far too long,” the Queen declared in a fiery speech. “It is time to return the colony where it belongs: into the lap of the United Kingdom. The experiment is hereby ended.”

Shortly after, the British Navy occupied important havens at the East Coast. On friday afternoon, Baltimore, Boston, Philadelphia and Miami had already been seized.

Apparently months of the global pandemic, national economic instability and a tiring election campaign did the trick: a wide range of the US population greeted the British soldiers euphorically and vowed to be loyal to the British Crown. “Long live the Queen!”-chants echoed through the streets.

Washington D.C. is still in the hands of the rebels lead by Donald Trump. However, observers believe that the British troops will seize the capital next week. According to the Queen’s orders, Trump will be put into chains and brought to Great Britain by ship in order to spend the rest of his days in the Tower of London by water and bread.

– Der Postillon, 6th of November 2020 (Original title: “Jetzt reicht’s!” – Queen unterstellt USA wieder der Britischen Krone). Translated by Seaberry Siren

[safflowerseason]

veep rewatch - 3.03

Season Three, Episode Three - Alicia 

aka - The One with the Announcement 

Tracie Thoms is well cast in the role of Alicia. 

When Jonah runs across the street, you really get a sense of how ill-fitting his clothes are (and also how freakish they make him look as a result). His pants are at least two sizes too big. 

Amy back in a skirt suit very reminiscent of her S2 outfits. 

Love the behind-the-scenes quality of the scene in the Veep’s office, with Selina getting fitted while her staffers work on the speech. 

Sue: Ma’am, it's Amy. She sounds uncomfortable. Like she's with a member of the public.

And now Amy in a beautifully tailored purple dress! This is not my personal favorite shade of purple (I would have preferred something a few shades darker…this is a bit too “crayola” purple for me) but the dress is super cute and it looks wonderful on Anna Chlumsky and fits her like a glove. I adore the peplum detail on the skirt and the little sleeve flaps.

Selina in another black and red outfit, in yet another episode where she wrestles with what she can say publicly versus what she actually believes. Definitely a consistent fashion theme of S3 so far. 

Gary: It's like SNL is going back in time and abusing a child.

Love the ongoing balloon bit in this episode. 

Kent: We need to rewrite the speech! Dan: I can’t rewrite the rewrite, Kent. I'm still writing it! Kent: That’s the reality, Dan. If you don't like the reality, go live in Oregon and make quilts with my mother. She could use the help.

Dan/Amy parent!watch Amy: Do…do I take her hand?  Alicia: Yes, hold Miss Amy's hand. Mike: Amy was born to be with kids Amy: …Peeing is fun…!

Amy: Okay…great pee.  Dan: I wanna know who's responsible for that sketch, you cock…*sees Amy and Halo*…tail napkin. Yeah, you heard me! Doyle: Dan. Amy. Dan: Shit, I gotta go.  Amy: Senator Doyle.  Doyle: I have a meeting scheduled with the Vice President right now and it is "right now” right now. Amy: Dan, you take this…right now. Dan: What?!

I always thought this little tussle, as well as Dan and Amy’s very brief interactions with Halo, indicate that while parenting would have represented a chaotic (and comedic) learning curve for both of them…it’s not like they don’t grasp the basic reality of what it means to be responsible for another human being. Both of them willingly hold Halo’s hand. Dan cuts himself off in the middle of cursing out the SNL guy, Amy doesn’t really know what to say to a little girl but she still tries to make her feel comfortable…these are small things, but there’s an awareness, however limited, of what it means to manage small kids. Yes, Dan and Amy are dramatic and completely obsessed with their work and have limited emotional intelligence. But they are also technically functional adults who have a base level of propriety and social awareness. In contrast, during S7, Mandel’s attitude toward the idea of Dan and Amy as parents seemed to be that they would be practically criminally negligent, monstrous in their grotesque selfishness and sociopathy. Which, like, sure, I wouldn’t want Sex-Psychopath Dan anywhere near my daughter. But it doesn’t track with the earlier seasons of the show.

Ben: Because then they sound like they're the result of war. Kent: It’s the curse of the unintended narrative. Dan: Okay, but you still want military first?  Selina: Yes!  Dan: *grumbling* Yeah…I’ll just say them simultaneously.

The show never gets into it much, in either era—and it seems like BKD was always tragically doomed to be nothing more than a plot device—but there was always a little spark with Ben, Kent, and Dan’s dynamic. It’s not hard to imagine that the three of them, together, could have grown a very successful business in DC (…I have imagined it). Dan always works best around people who stomp on his ego and boss him around, which Ben and Kent certainly have no qualms about, but he’s also active and ambitious in a way that they aren’t, so they actually make a decent team. Also, Dan views Ben and Kent as men in a way he doesn't with Mike and Gary, which affects how he interacts with them. 

Doyle is a real dick in this episode. His presumption. It is so infuriating. It reminds me of all the male senators during the Kavanaugh hearings.

Selina: Seniors are the easy vote. Child care is a principle.  Ben: Ma’am, you have plenty of principles…you just gotta pick another one.

Dan: I don’t do offended…but I am affronted that you’d even think that.  A classic Dan line. 

Selina: I'll tell you what happens. They get bullied when they're little at school, and then they perpetuate the cycle by bullying me.

JLD’s face when she sees Catherine’s dress…masterful. 

Amy sends Gary a great “oh shit here it comes” look right after Selina starts to blow up at Catherine.

Also JLD’s fake laughing reaction to Doyle’s “L’il Selina” line. Brilliant.

Selina: So…I’m supposed to let a bunch of dead-eyed white guys shit all over absolutely everything that I stand for? An iconic line that is sadly even more applicable in 2020 than it was in 2014. 

Selina, in a rage: I have DECIDED that I'm going to LET them dictate to me. Because that is MY decision. Do you understand that? I am LETTING them do that! Get it?  Ben: Yes, ma’am. Selina: Right! But they do NOT own me!  Ben: They really don't, ma’am.  Selina: No, they don't! No, they don’t! *flings herself into the armchair*

Gary doesn’t do much in this episode, but he gets in some great little physical comedy bits, like trying to sneak Selina something to drink and then shying away. 

Mike calling Dee a “stupid cow” opens up such a dark crack into the normally sunny Mike. Matt Walsh really nails it, though, his own horror at his words…you really feel for him, even though it is a truly awful thing to say. I wonder if it’s a line they would have given to such a sympathetic character (for Veep, comparatively) in a post Me-Too world. Like, the audience just watched Mike get married! To Kathy Najimy!

Catherine: Amy, what the fuck is happening?! Is Mike on crank?! Amy: That’s actually the least of my worries right now. Your mom has gone quiet. 

Ben to Mike: You gotta go lower! You gotta go lower than the lowest lowlife. You gotta dig and dig and dig until you get to the point where you wish you were dead. Okay? And that's base camp.

Dan: Is there any way to snap her out of this Diving Bell and Butterfly shit? She should be rehearsing my speech right now. I mean…I am just impressed that Dan “only watches movies with Owen Wilson” Egan knows  about The Diving Bell and Butterfly.

Catherine: Your entire life has been leading up to this moment. And as a result of that, my entire life has been awful.  Sarah Sutherland’s delivery of this particular line is extra great…that little waver she puts on ‘awful.’ This whole monologue is so funny and spunky! 

All of the Selina/Dan interactions and miscommunications re: the speech and SNL once again foreshadow that their partnership is going to be a disaster. I appreciate how subtle the foreshadowing has been…while also undeniably consistent. 

I like that after an episode of being totally shit on by Doyle, Selina manages to get a win over him at the end, manipulating him in front of Alicia and Halo because of course he can’t say no in front of potential voters. Of course, she’s also manipulating them, but it’s a nice instance where Selina’s public machinations actually pay off for her. 

[elusive---ivory]

The Woman In Velvet pt 14

Oof, second to last chapter, boys. We all knew this was coming. A shoutout to @princessgeekface for being my editor through this process. You are wonderful 💕💕💕

PARING: Arthur Fleck x Oc

WARNING: Violence

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist (I love you all so so much 💕💕):

@jaylovesbats @memory-mortis @gloomyladyy @mijachula @princessgeekface @radio-hoo-ha @lolacolaempath

"I'm not sure my wife would like that. Maybe my next wife." Murray's voice boomed on the stage.

Roaring of laughter came from the audience.

"You should see our next guest coming up. I'm pretty sure this guy could use a doctor." Murray commented.

"Oh? Does he have sexual problems?" Dr. Sally asked.

"I think he's got a lot of problems. Let's show that clip one last time." Murray said.

Arthur's clip played.

The audience ate it up, listening to Arthur's laughter in the clip.

Sandy rolled her eyes, looking over at Arthur, who was staring intently at the curtains.

Sandy stood back from the curtains, carefully watching Arthur's movements. The tech guys next to Arthur looked uncomfortable, and tried shuffling away.

"You might've seen that clip of our next guest. Now, before he comes out, I just wanted to say that we're all heartbroken about what's going on in the city tonight, but this is how he wanted to come out. I honestly believe we could all use a good laugh. So, please welcome Joker."

As the jazz band started, the curtains fell back, revealing Arthur. Arthur came onstage, dancing and twirling around.

Sandy watched from backstage. She looked over by the curtain, seeing Arthur's still lit cigarette. Sandy picked it up, taking a small puff, before distinguishing it.

Arthur shook Murray's hand, then headed over to Dr. Sally, who was just expecting a hug. He cupped Dr. Sally cheeks and kissed her passionately.

Sandy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms backstage.

Whistles and ahhs came from the audience.

Dr. Sally had a very shocked look on her face, as she sat back down.

"That was quite the entrance." Murray commented.

Arthur looked around at the scenery of it all.

Murray looked at Arthur, raising a comedic eyebrow. "You ok?"

"Yeah, this is exactly how I imagined it." Arthur replied.

"Well, that makes one of us." Murray joked.

Laughter and applause came from the audience.

Sandy continued watching from a small television backstage.

"So, could you tell us about this look? You said when we spoke earlier that this wasn't a political statement." Murray said, pointing out his makeup.

"That's right, Murray. I'm not political. I'm just trying to make people laugh." Arthur looked over to the audience, not one of them chuckling.

Sandy cracked a smile backstage.

"And how's that going for you?" Murray commented, again.

The audience once again roared with laughter.

Sandy's cracked smile turned into an angry frown.

Arthur mocked the audience's laughter with his own demented cackle.

"Tell us about your lady friend backstage. She's also dressed as apart of your act. Do you two got a thing going on?" Murray asked.

Sandy paused. Her eyebrows furrowed at the TV. She crossed her arms

Arthur smirked. "It's a little more than 'a thing'. She's my sweetheart. My dear, Sandy."

Awws and oohs came from the audience.

Murray laughed. "Ha. I've heard that one before."

The audience howled with laughter.

Sandy glared hard at the television. She wasn't laughing one bit. All of Murray's jokes were stale and just blatantly mean to Arthur.

"So you tell us you're a comedian. Got any new material? Wanna tell us a joke?" Murray asked, not sounding too pleasant.

The audience applauded.

"Yeah? Okay." Arthur took out his joke book.

"He's gotta book full of jokes." Murray commented.

Arthur flipped a few pages into his notebook.

Arthur paused for a second.

"Take your time. You got all night." Murray laughed.

"Okay, okay. Here's one, knock knock." Arthur said.

"And you had to look that up." Murray commented.

The audience laughed.

Sandy couldn't take the stress. She bit her thumb. She wanted to bash Murray's skull in, see if he was still joking about that.

"I wanna get it right." Arthur's voice was somber.

Sandy couldn't look. She turned her head away from the television.

"Knock, knock." Arthur repeated.

"Who's there?" Murray replied.

"It's the police, ma'am. Your son's been hit by a drunk driver. He's dead." Arthur chuckled.

A loud groan came from the audience.

Sandy laughed at Arthur's edgy joke. Two of the tech guys stared strangely at her. She smiled, watching the television.

"No, no, no. We do not joke about that." Dr. Sally scolded.

"Yeah, that's not funny, Arthur." Murray said.

Arthur chuckled, looking down. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just been a rough few weeks. Ever since I..."

Arthur trailed off. His eyes wandered over the audience.

"Ever since I killed those three wallstreet guys." Arthur said, quietly.

Murray looked around at the audience. "Okay, I'm waiting for the the punchline."

"There is no punchline. It's not a joke." Arthur's voice was monotonous. His eyes swelled up with sadness.

A loud gasp washed over the audience.

Sandy closed her eyes, taking a deep sigh. She couldn't help, but feel remorse in this moment. Remorse for Arthur. The tech guys stared at the TV in shock.

Murray gave Arthur a disgusted glare. "You're serious, aren't you? You're telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?"

"Mmhmm." Arthur mumbled.

Murray raised his eyebrow. "And why should we believe you?"

Arthur smirked, shrugging. "Got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore."

Arthur paused for a moment, before chuckling. "My life is nothing but a comedy."

Loud booes came from the audience.

Sandy smirked.

Murray shook his head. "So let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?"

Arthur smacked his lips. "I do, and I'm tired of pretending it's not. Comedy is subjective, Murray. Isn't that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much. You decide what's right or wrong. The same way you what's funny or not."

More booes and groans came from the audience.

Murray stuttered. "I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement, to become a symbol."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on, MurRay. Do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It's enough to make anyone crazy."

Murray leaned back in his chair. "So, that's it you're crazy? That's your defense for killing three young men."

Arthur smirked, widely. "No. They couldn't carry a tomb to save their lives."

Sandy laughed loudly from backstage. The two tech guys were glued to the screen, cautious of the lady in front of them.

Arthur smiled, hearing Sandy's laughter from backstage.

More booes and groans followed the audience.

Arthur dramatically rolled his eyes. "Oh, why are people so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you'd walk all over me. I PASS you every day, and you DON'T notice me. Oh, but these guys, because Thomas Wayne went and cried about them on TV."

Sandy could hear the pain and tension in his voice. Arthur was at his breaking point. Seeing him like this broke Sandy's heart. A black tear ran down her face. She cracked a smile, holding it all together.

Murray continued pushing his questions. "So, you've got a problem with Thomas Wayne?"

Arthur nodded his head, vigorously. "Yes, I do."

Arthur turned his head towards Murray.

"Have you seen what it's like out there, MurRay? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody's civil ANYMORE! Nobody THINKS what it's like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think about what it's like to be someone like me. To be somebody, but themselves. They DON'T. They think we'll just sit there and take it like GOOD LITTLE BOYS and we won't WEREWOLF and go WILD."

Sandy's eyes widened, as she covered her mouth to silent her laughing sobs. She never seen this much pain coming from just one man. The techs seemed to get invested with Arthur's big speech.

Murray his head. "Are you finished? There's so much self pity, Arthur. It's almost like you're making excuses for killing those three men. What about your sweetheart, huh, Sandy? She's not awful, right? Not everyone, and I'll tell you this, not everyone is awful."

Arthur glared at Murray. "You're awful, Murray."

"Me? I'm awful? How am I awful?" Murray said, defensively.

Arthur's green ocean eyes glared menacingly at Murray. "Playing my video. Inviting me on the show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You're just like the rest of them."

Murray scoffed. "You don't know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what you did. What it led to. Two officers are in critical condition because of what you did."

Arthur started laughing with a gentle tear rolling down his face.

"And you're laughing. You're laughing. Someone was killed today because of what you did."

Arthur kept nodding and smiling. "I know. How about another joke, MurRay."

Murray shook his head. "No, I think we've had enough of your jokes."

"What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a SOCIETY that ABANDONS him and treats him like TRASH? I'll tell you what you get. YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE."

Arthur pulled out the gun, shooting Murray in the head.

The audience ran screaming in terror.

Arthur laughed to himself. Getting up, he shot Murray a second time in the chest

Sandy and the techs witnessed the horror firsthand. Sandy ran out onto the stage.

"Arthur." Sandy screamed.

Arthur walked up to the camera.

"Goodnight, and always remember. That's life."

Arthur was promptly tackled by security.

[jimlingss]

Chess of Ice

Read the Sequel

Read the Final Instalment 

➜ Words: 13.5k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Sports!AU

➜ Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

➜ Warnings: Swearing.

➜ Notes: I’ve always wanted to write a sports!au, so here we go!

The cheers from the stands keep him going.   The roars pierce through his muffled hearing, the audience going wild as he glides past. He can’t feel anything, not his fingers or the tip of his nose. Sweat drips from his skin, dousing his jersey as he pushes his left foot back zigzagging faster and faster without friction. He keeps his knees bent, alternating his strides and slipping right through his opponents. The adrenaline pulsates through his veins and he keeps steady. It feels like he’s floating.   Jungkook lives for this.   His breath halts. The puck comes into sight, skimming right in front of him like the stars aligning. The corner of his mouth tugs, and he swings back his hand, gripping the stick tightly...and before his opponents can even blink, Jungkook shoots.   The crowd goes absolutely berserk, immediately standing from their spots, howling into the arena.   And from the movement, shoving his body forward for the shot, Jungkook collides and falls.   His teammates are cheering, roaring out as they launch on each other in bear hugs. There are applauses and screams coming from all directions and Jungkook rolls on his back, vision blinded by the sparkling fluorescent lights, and he giggles in pure, unadulterated joy.   This is the place where he was born and raised.   This is the place where he thrives.   Jeon Jungkook lives and breathes to be on the ice.   But as one of his teammates drags his lifeless body upwards to embrace the boy who brought them victory, his left ankle thumps...thumps...thumps...and yet, he can’t seem to care.   //   “Well, you should care.” Doctor Shin rolls forward on her office chair. “You tore a ligament.”   His teammates are just outside this room, making a huge ruckus in the hospital hallway. Jungkook is buzzing with excitement, unable to wait for the celebration. Coach already promised to pay for drinks and all the guys already made a vow to get shit-faced—   “Ow!” He winces when the doctor presses on a certain spot and she mumbles before putting his swollen ankle down while throwing in an apology and moving to take a look at the x-ray again. It’s the size of a baseball now, looking like a nasty boil hanging off of his leg, still being iced to prevent it from getting as large as a football.   “How long is it going to take to heal, doc?” Coach Kang plops down in the chair next to the upright hospital bed. “We gotta start training for the next championships soon. At this rate, we might make it to the Olympics any day now. There’s no time to waste.”   “Already?” Jungkook chides, pretending to roll his eyes. “Shouldn’t we at least take a break?”   His coach laughs heartily. “There are no breaks for winners.”   But the doctor is not amused. She rolls her chair until she faces him again. “You sprained it yesterday, didn’t you, Jungkook?”   “Uhhhh…….”   “It’s been hurting for a while, hasn’t it?” She hits bullseye with a simple question and his coach turns to him in surprise. Jungkook grits his teeth, not wanting to admit that he had actually sprained his ankle yesterday on a last practice run and purposely didn’t say anything. He endured the pain to play the game. He couldn’t afford to be taken off last minute for a stupid injury. Everyone counted on him. “It’s a miracle you made it so long. The adrenaline rush must’ve done wonders if you weren’t screaming every step you took.”   “How long is it going to take to heal?” Jungkook repeats in a quieter volume, looking up past his still damp bangs. Suddenly, his palms feel sweaty and he’s more nervous than he was a few hours ago.   “Well, you tore a ligament. You completely tore it. It’s ruptured,” Doctor Shin sighs. It’s much more serious than he thought it was. “It’s severe. And my guess….it’ll take around twelve weeks to heal.”   “Twelve weeks?!” Jungkook sits up straighter, nearly launching off the bed and when his ankle shifts, he holds back a shout, flinching hard instead. “I can’t go that long!”   His coach puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “You’ll be up before you know it, Kook.”   “You’ll need rehabilitation,” the doctor continues, “but by the looks of it, you have a more than high probability of being able to walk again.”   “Wait….what?” He blinks, wholly confused. “Walk?”   The doctor looks at him, an emotion of sympathy he does not want. Every word that is carefully spoken, hesitant, “Jungkook. You won’t be able to—”   White noise.   All he hears is white noise.   And just like that, the career that never even began is broken in shambles.   //   The door slides open, room deathly silent. His teammates came to visit for the past two weeks, trying to cheer up the somber mood with their boisterous laughter but like anyone else who had a life outside the white walls, they slowly but surely stopped coming. Now only his parents and older brother dropped by every other day; a sign of their presence by the flowers on the stand withering in the vase.   The sunlight pouring in from the glass window is blinding and Jungkook keeps staring at it even when it burns his eye sockets. It’s better than glancing down to see his ankle still wrapped up like a Christmas gift. He feels sick every time he even steals a glimpse of it.   His coach stands at the end of the bed, watching the star player who fell from his place. He can feel the waves of disappointment come off of the older man and he holds himself back from crying, the underneath of his eyes already reddened and swollen from sobbing so much.   “Jungkook.”   “I don’t want to talk about it.”   “I know, sport.” He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and there’s an extended moment of peaceful silence. The dust particles drift in the air in sunlight beams, the clock handles moving without a tick-tock-tick-tock rhythm.   “You’re good, Jungkook.” For a man who used to scream from the stands, command every player with strict rules, he sounds too soft and gentle. Jungkook doesn’t like it. “You’re really good at everything you do. You have exceptional abilities in whatever you try. You’re a fast learner. I’ve been your coach for the past seven years, so trust me when I say that.”   He continues and Jungkook turns his head away, trying to ignore the older. But the two of them know he’s still listening, hanging on to every word and syllable like it’s his life jacket. “This isn't the end. There are a lot more things you can do.”   “Then tell me…..” His voice is broken. “What should I do?”   He is desperately pleading.   Jungkook is lost.   “Don’t let the public forget your name.” His coach’s eyes are blazing, but instead of the thirst to win, it’s full of hope of a limitless future. “Don’t lose your sponsors. You’re still the star. Everyone loves you. They still go wild when someone says your name.”   “And how am I supposed to not let them forget me?”   The older man softly smiles. “There are a lot more sports out there, Jungkook.”

Music plays in the background, not booming but loud enough to fill the small arena. The cold air wafts in the atmosphere, icy breeze deepening his cheeks to rosy hue. The ice rink has a smooth surface, yet to be marred by blades lacing patterns made by skates. But here, the glossy layer might never be embroidered with designs.

  It’s unfamiliar to him. There are lines drawn on the ice, marking every lane and at the end, there are targets. He stays seated, quietly observing and observing….   “Harder! Harder!” A girl with a black bob haircut is shrieking at another person. “Harder, you motherfucker! Is that all you can do?! Harder!”   Yeah…   Jungkook will never get used to this.   “Hurry hard,” she continues. “Yup. Woah! Woah! WOAH!”   The stone finally stops sliding on the ice. It stops right outside the last ring of the target and the person at the end of the rink goes pale. The girl throws up her arms, groaning and yelling, “are you fucking deaf?! Did you not hear what I said?! You screwed it up, you stupid fuck!”   “Yoonji!” The female coach spins around in absolute horror. “Language! What did we talk about?”   The short girl with all too much sass scoffs openly. “I’m sorry I play with idiots!”   “Don’t make me bench you,” the coach is unyielding, stubborn as well and she speaks her threat in a menacing, lower tone.   The girl with the bob-cut narrows her eyes. “You wouldn’t…”   The coach crosses her arms. “Apologize!”   This is stupid as fuck.   Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s doing here, wasting away his time, his talents and gifts. All the members are so hardcore over such a dumb sport, screaming and yelling at each other. A sport that requires no brain cell use. A sport meant for janitors. It’s boring. It’s absurd.   “Alright team, gather up! We have a few new recruits that are joining our team this season.” The male coach claps his hands together and the others put away their equipment, slowly making their way over. Jungkook is at the ledge, starting a second too long at the ice that’s a few inches away. But he’s soon distracted by the handful of girls in the back who are murmuring and giggling to each other, taking one too many glances at him.   “Everyone give a warm welcome to the new rookies of our Curling Team!” There’s a warm applause and he continues, “I am Coach Kim Namjoon, but you can just call me Namjoon and my vice here is…”   “I’m Adora.” The female coach smiles, brown ponytail swinging when she turns to each new recruit. “I run the women’s curling team while Namjoon runs the men’s. But we often work together so there’s no real distinction.”   One by one, the new individuals introduce themselves. Alongside Jungkook is a mom whose kids have gone off to college, an older gentleman who’s soon to retire and another woman who’s in her mid-thirties, a professional who’s looking for another hobby. Jungkook notices he’s one of the younger individuals on the team. As he scans the group, someone catches his eye—   “And this is Jeon Jungkook.” A hand slaps his back suddenly and he flinches, startled. “I know what you’re thinking and yes, we finally poached the best hockey player for our team!”   He awkwardly smiles. “Hello.”   Namjoon has a dimple pressing into each side of his cheek, and he nods, fluffy blonde strands bobbing up and down with the movement. “He’s been playing for a few months now and has quite a knack for it. Everyone give him a warm welcome.”   There are more applauses and as the introduction is complete, females and males alike begin to bombard the poor boy. “Are you really the Jeon Jungkook?!” The crowd gathers, soft smiles and eager eyes, unable to believe that he’s gracing them with his mere presence. His introverted nature makes him take a step back and he laughs in a tense manner.   “You were the captain of the hockey team, right?! You were number ninety-seven, right?!”   His neck knocks downwards in a single nod. “Y-yeah…”   “Oh my god.” Their eyes are sparkling in admiration and he’s taken back, a bit overwhelmed with their energy. “Can I get your autograph?” — “Can you sign my hockey jersey?” — “Ooh, me too!” — “Can I please take a selfie with me?” — “Is it alright if I take a picture of you? — “You should add me on instagram!”   He’s swamped by his own fans, trying his best to fulfill each of their wishes and show his own appreciation for their kindness. But by the time the coaches peel people off of him and tell them to get lost, he’s finally able to catch his breath.   The two coaches give the four new recruits a few run downs, reviewing the basics to make sure everyone’s on the same playing field and know what’s going on. It’s not hard to grasp and with time, understanding only deepens. Compared to hockey, Jungkook almost finds the change in difficulty insulting to his intelligence. Yet, before he leaves the arena for the day, he decides to check out the locker room. After all, this is what he’ll be doing for the next little while.   He might as well become acquainted with the place.   But before he can even make it to the men’s locker room, his arm is pulled and in the blink of an eye, he’s being roughly shoved against the wall….   By the same girl who was screaming earlier.   “Uhhh…”   “I know who you are, Jeon Jungkook.” The girl grips his white tee tight in her fists, permanently wrinkling the fabric. Her black bob and bangs brushes against his skin from how close she’s standing and he visibly gulps. She hisses at him, “And I know what you think.”   His rounded doe eyes stare back like a deer in headlights. “Who are you?”   She ignores him. The girl is much shorter than he is, probably around four feet eleven inches but she’s fearsome. Her pointed glare is beyond intimidating and his knees quake, feeling an instinct to bow down. Jungkook wets himself a little. “You think this game is fucking dumb. You think this is some kind of joke, sitting on your high horse and looking down on us. I know your type. You’re just an arrogant, cocky asshole. I know when I see it. But if you sabotage any of us….I swear to god, I will rip your head straight off your neck. You better watch—”   “Yoonji.” The girl is interrupted by a soft, sweet voice. It’s a vivid contrast to the venom that was just being spat on him and his ears perk at the melodic timbre. Both necks whip over to another head that’s peering from the corner of the entryway. You blink twice, never once sparing a single glance towards Jungkook. “Are we going to eat?”   “Yeah, just give me a second.” Yoonji looks back at Jungkook, grip firming up after loosening. “I’m almost done here—”   “But I’m hungry. Can we go now?”   “Fine.” She releases Jungkook, shooting a last glare at him that makes his spine turn to jelly in the worst ways. He’s still stunned but when he turns to look at his saviour, you’re gone.

The next following weeks come and go without as many difficulties.   Jungkook adjusts well, getting lessons from the coach and watching the games on the sidelines when he’s not brushing up on his own mediocre skills. He learns more of the details of the sport, studying special techniques that he didn’t catch when he was trying to learn on his own with videos online and borrowed library books.   His teammates simmer down too, less excited to see him but still pleasant and warm. Everyone’s friendly and welcoming, except for Yoonji who still shoots him a suspicious look once in a while. But aside from that, Jungkook and the three other new recruits become a part of the team quite easily, integrating with the others like there are no differences between years of age or experience.   Jungkook has almost learnt everyone’s names at this point. He’s exchanged conversations with most, except for you...who seems timid and quiet, and always brushing past him when he approaches.   “Yoonji. Y/N. Taehyung,” Adora calls out at the end of the practice session, pacing back and forth while she reads the names off of her clipboard. “And Jungkook. Could the four of you come here for a quick moment?”   Slowly, the four of you gather along with Namjoon. Yoonji puts away her brush, Taehyung stopping from his practice of throwing stones down the center of the target, also known as the button. You bid goodbye to one of your teammates and Jungkook comes off from the bench. He’s still unfamiliar with his curling shoes, one of the soles called the slider and the other, gripper. It’s the only way no one’s falling over on the slippery ice. It’s different from skating, that’s one thing for sure.   But at this point, Jungkook’s just happy to be on the ice, even by unconventional means.   “First off, I want to congratulate the four of you.” Adora smiles at each of you, towards Yoonji’s raised brow, Taehyung’s bewilderment and both you and Jungkook’s blank expressions. “Namjoon and I have discussed this for a few weeks now and the four of you have been chosen because of your stellar performances.”   “What is it for?” Yoonji cuts to the chase, deciding not to comment that Taehyung throws like he has two left hands, how she’s been swearing up a storm and not exactly demonstrating good sportsmanship, and how Jungkook is literally the worst player she’s ever seen.   “You’ll be representing us in an upcoming competition,” Namjoon announces officially. “The four of you will be our first co-ed team!”   “What?!” There’s an uproar between Yoonji and Taehyung while you remain silent and Jungkook wholly confused. “I thought mixed doubles was only two people?” — “Since when did we ever do co-ed?” — “But I’ve been training with the women’s team?!” — “Why us?!”   “Shut it, shut it.” Adora waves her left hand and her right is preoccupied with pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to not get a headache from the two loud kids in front of her. “Listen, we got four new recruits. Two females and two males. That makes our team twelve people total and since one team is four people….that leaves four people extra, so Namjoon and I decided we would just form a new team. Now we can compete in both men’s, women’s, and mixed.”   As she speaks, she seems to agree with the idea more and more, even nodding along. Namjoon stands straight with his hands behind his back, proud of coming up with such an ingenious suggestion. But the rest of you aren’t as amused.   “I can’t believe this.” Yoonji scoffs, turning to you as if waiting for you to agree how ridiculous this all is. “I thought those newbies would just be subs or something. But they’re actually here to steal our spot?”   “No one’s stealing anything,” Taehyung chides, throwing an arm around the short girl until she literally hurls his appendage off of herself, nearly tugging the arm out of its socket. “Chill!”   “No,” she spits. “Fuck you.”   “Yoonji.” Adora warns her, appearing unimpressed with her attitude and hostility.   “Okay, fine, I get it. I’m pulled off the women’s team that I’ve been playing with for the past, I don’t know, three years. For what? Mixed. That’s cool. It’s different. It’s a nice change.” The girl in the blue jacket with the team’s logo hitches her thumb towards Jungkook. “But why him? That’s one thing I don’t fucking get.”   “Uhhh….” Jungkook blinks, not knowing how to defend himself and not even sure if he wants to.   Taehyung grins, his signature boxy smile spreading into his cheeks. He’s wearing sweatpants and an oversized long-sleeve shirt, oddly not affected by the frigid air. On the outside, he could pass as a farmer from the countryside. “Why not Jungkook?”   The brunette boy is a friendly acquaintance of Jungkook, who’s a bit too friendly. Taehyung’s been rather touchy towards him more so than the others, constantly grabbing him for a hug or throwing an arm around his shoulders. If someone looked at them, they’d think Taehyung and Jungkook were best friends that shared the same cradle together.   “Because he literally started less than a month ago.” She crosses her arms. “I think there are other people who are far more deserving of the position than him. People with more experience. People who have been with us longer. Like....Minsik.” She glances at the elder who’s slumped on the bench and slowly drinking from his water bottle, probably taking his afternoon pills as well. “We’re trying to win, right? Well, he’s been curling for like...thirty years...I think he would better suit the team.”   “No.” Namjoon clears his throat. “We’ve decided on you four.”   Yoonji narrows her eyes, still unconvinced, and she takes a good look at your team. After considering for one minute, she realizes there’s one main similarity between all of you — you’re on the younger side. “Is it because Minsik is old? What...you think he’s going to die before he can get onto the curling sheet?”   “Well, let’s be honest.” Taehyung banters with her, “He’ll probably shatter a hip if he goes too hard.”   Adora sighs, headache getting worse by the second. “We picked you four for a number of reasons. Aside from assessing your different skills and weaknesses and trying to balance that, aside from looking at your...bold personalities...aside from all this...yes, we did consider your age. Good observation, Yoonji.”   She glares at the older woman, not liking her sarcasm and then Namjoon decides to step in, clarifying the situation to avoid misunderstandings. “We intend this team to go long term. If this team does well, then we want you guys to represent us in mixed doubles or co-ed games for the next few years. Adora and I want you to become good enough with enough experience that you can become mentors for future mixed double teams. So yes...it would be helpful if you don’t die or go senile on us.”   “Oh my god. Why don’t you just plan the next ten years of my life without telling me?!”   “It’s technically already planned,” Taehyung quips mischievously. “You’ll have twenty cats by the end of 2038 and by 2060, if we’re not all dead by global warming, you’ll probably build an army of cats and teach them how to curl—”   “Shut the fuck up, you annoying piece of shit.” Yoonji rolls her eyes. “You’re not even funny or clever—”   “Enough!” Adora limit in hearing the children bicker back and forth is reached. She takes a look at Yoonji, Taehyung, Jungkook before settling on you. “You four will work together. The competition is in four months. No but’s.”   The coach stomps off before stopping meters away. She swiftly turns on her toes, comes sprinting back and then grabbing Namjoon and dragging him with her. When both coaches are out of earshot distance, Taehyung makes some snarky comment that you don’t pay much attention to, but Yoonji stomps her foot directly on his. The sassy girl shoots yet another glare towards an unsuspecting Jungkook and then she takes your hand.   “Let’s go.”   She walks off with you and calms down with every step she takes and increasing the distance with the stupid boys. You haven’t said much of a word and she sighs, knowing how you didn’t put up a single fight. “Are you really okay with this?”   You shrug, taking a glance back to the two males who seem lost in the tiny space. “It’ll be fun, I guess.”   //   To say it was tense is an understatement.   The atmosphere was not only awkward but full of hostility, mostly coming from the short girl who could not stop glaring at him. It baffles him. Jungkook’s not sure how this team is supposed to function when Yoonji didn’t want to cooperate, when you stayed completely silent like a mime, and Taehyung had his head literally in the clouds. Even standing next to each other was suffocating, he can’t imagine what playing a game would feel like.   “We should assign roles,” Yoonji begins, trying to get a move on and keep things somewhat professional. As much as she hated this, the prospect of winning was much more important. “Taehyung, you’ll be second.”   “Why should I?” He decides to purposely give her a hard time, a twinkle of playfulness glimmering in his deep brown irises.   “You’re a strong sweeper,” she says without wasting a second breath.   Taehyung wiggles his brows up and down. “So you’ve been watching me? For how long?”   Yoonji ignores him and Jungkook decides to take a step forward. After all, if he’s going to be a part of this team, then he wants to make sure his voice is heard. “Who’s going to be skip?”   He assumes it’s Yoonji since she’s already taken on the role of leader, designating roles to everyone and her personality is rather dominating. But against Jungkook’s expectations, she answers differently and without a note of doubt in her voice. “Obviously, Y/N.”   You? The quiet one of all people is in charge of strategizing. You — as the team captain?   “It’s fine if I’m not,” you mutter softly but Yoonji doesn’t even debate it.   “The problem is, I don’t know what the fuck you should do. You have the least experience out of all of us,” Yoonji addresses Jungkook and groans. “What can you even do?”   “Um...I can throw...and sweep...I think I’m better at throwing.”   “Yeah, I’ll be the judge of that.”   Adora approaches with a clipboard in hand. Today, she’s wearing the team’s official blue zip up track jacket. Her hair’s still in a ponytail, as if permanently gathered to be at the crown of her head but at least her dark circles look better. “What’s going on?”   “We’re designating roles,” Taehyung chirps cheerfully. “I’m second.”   “Who’s even supposed to be our coach?” Yoonji asks and raises a brow. “Or are we our own democracy?”   “More like a dictatorship…” The tall brunette mumbles, hands digging into his grey sweatpants pockets, and she glares at him.   Adora looks at her clipboard and hums. “Namjoon and I are both coaches for this team. Believe it or not, we have enough time and attention to manage two teams at the same time.” She inhales a breath and looks up. “With that being said, I will be designating roles now. Jungkook will take the role of third.”   All at once, there’s a reaction. Taehyung’s thick eyebrows shoot upwards comically. Yoonji is already scoffing and even you tilt your head ever so slightly. Third, also called vice or mate, it requires him to throw draw shots and to...strategize with the skip. It’s an important role.   “What the f—”   “If you didn’t know, in mixed, one male must sweep with one female. Two males can’t be sweeping or throwing, vice versa.”   “Okay.” Yoonji nods. “Then Taehyung should be lead and I’ll be third—”   “No.” The coach won’t have any of it. She’s already made up her mind. “Taehyung’s good at sweeping. You’re good at throwing and sweeping.”   “Oh. My. God.” The bob-cut girl has her head knocked back, whining like a petulant child and rather than being intimidated or wanting to piss his pants, Jungkook’s slightly amused and annoyed. “This is going to be a disaster.”   “Yoonji. If you keep complaining, I’m going to make you do running drills. Don’t test me.”   “.....”   Finally, there’s silence.   //   After one or two more arguments and details being sorted, the four of them are dismissed for the day before extensive training will begin. “You know what?” The shorter girl speaks up as the four of you are walking towards the locker rooms. “I finally get it.”   Taehyung smiles. “What?”   “The only reason, he’s on the team—” Yoonji narrows her eyes on Jungkook. “—is because he brings in publicity. It’s a media stunt.”   “That's a good conspiracy theory. Tell me when you figure out the rest of your theory. Maybe the government's involved.” Taehyung laughs and she ignores him, stopping to directly address the boy she’s prosecuting.   “There are a lot more people who better qualify for your position, so you better not fuck shit up.”   “Oooh,” Taehyung makes an obnoxious sound, making the atmosphere less hostile. You blink, unfazed, before dragging Yoonji away without saying a single word.   The two boys enter the locker room, the other males already finished changing and they’ve left since their practice session ended sooner. Taehyung opens up his tiny locker, changing back into casual clothes despite his athletic wear already looking like regular attire, or pajamas. It’s amusing and even if Taehyung is a bit overbearing, Jungkook’s taken quite a liking to him.   “Don’t let her bother you,” Tae speaks up, stripping his pants in one sweep brazenly and instead of changing into his regular pants, he rips off his shirt, nearly fully nude but thankfully with his underwear still intact. “Yoonji’s always like that but she’s warming up to you...kind of.”   Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound from the back of his throat. While Yoonji’s frightening, he’s starting to become immune to her antics. When someone threatens you every other day, at some point it becomes white noise. He’s not really bothered that much anymore, deciding to roll it off his shoulder.   But there is something that’s bothering Jungkook. Or rather than bothered, he’s curious.   “Hey, Taehyung, can I ask you a question?”   “Of course, Kookie.” His eyes light up with enthusiasm and he turns to Jungkook, giving him his full attention while the other doesn’t mind the bizarre nickname.   “I’m just curious but...why is Y/N the skip?” He doesn’t mean to offend anyone or question your skills but— “She doesn’t seem like the type to strategize...or yell...or be the leader.”   “Right?” Taehyung quirks his head to the side, agreeing with Jungkook. “But believe it or not, Y/N takes it more seriously than Yoonji. And that’s saying something.” He shivers and Jungkook’s not sure if it’s because his skin is exposed to the cold air. “If you think Yoonji is scary, you should meet her older brother, Yoongi. I almost pissed myself.”   Jungkook quickly exchanges his shirt before Taehyung can comment how ripped he is and how he’s got a hot-bod and the brunette seems distracted anyways. “But yeah, Y/N is the most intense person on the team. Not only that, but she’s one of the people who’s been playing for the longest. I think she’s been playing since elementary or something. So she has a lot of experience.”   “Oh.”   Jungkook finds himself stopping and listening.   “Also, she’s three time winner of the WJCC. World Junior Curling Championships. And she’s part of the Kilsyth Curling Club which is pretty crazy. And oh yeah, she was skip of the women’s team too.”   Jungkook turns away. It’s odd.   His curiosity still isn’t satisfied.   //   “Hey, Y/N?” Jungkook struggles to keep up, practically jogging at this point. You walk at an incredible speed and he’s already out of breath. Your bag is held by your side while his is slung over his shoulder, the extra weight making your strides even more amazing.   Jungkook runs a hand through his long black strands, keeping them from pricking his eyes, and you slow down for a second when you notice him. “Hi.”   “Ummm….you’re not with Yoonji?”   You keep your eyes trained forward, never once looking at him directly. “Family stuff. Went home first.”   “Oh.” He walks alongside you, matching your steps. “I was thinking of going home too, but you...uh...wanna grab a bite to eat?”   Your voice is quiet, timid, and he barely catches what you’re saying. “I already have food at home.”   “...oh...okay.” He tries his best not to let the rejection deter him, but it’s difficult when he’s already a stuttering mess. “I..uh...just never really talked to you before and since we’re on the same team…”   This is absolutely excruciating. You don’t respond to him and only awkward silence lingers. Jungkook’s already out of his comfort zone by approaching you and being the first to strike a conversation. If he ever survives this, he’s going to crawl back into the cave he came from and never come out again. “I thought we could get to know each other better.”   You answer — “sure.”   Maybe you were an introvert like him. Maybe you were even more shy than he was, to the point where it’s painfully timid. Maybe it’s not his fault. But somehow, Jungkook doubts this. If you managed to befriend Yoonji, then there’s no way you’re an easy pushover. And Taehyung said you were the most intense one on the team.   But even if you were shy, at the very least, you should look at him.   “I heard you’re a three time championship of the junior competition. That’s really impressive.” He swallows hard when you say nothing. “And you’re part of the K...Kil…”   “Kilsyth Curling Club,” you finally say something more than one word and Jungkook is way too excited, eyes lighting up and taking a step closer. It’s an improvement.   “Yeah. Isn’t that one of the oldest clubs around?”   You hum, not uttering another word. Jungkook is defeated.   Taehyung is overly friendly to him, Yoonji is hostile, but you...you are just apathetic. And it’s all too unsettling to him. There’s nothing he can do to drive this conversation forward when it was dead in the first place. The tension was killing him inside.   “Do you hate me?”   God. Jungkook groans, wondering why such a childish question spilled from his mouth. He feels an urge to slam his forehead into his hand, hard enough that it’ll hopefully break his face and he’ll be put out of his misery once and for all.   “No.”   “Then….” He releases a heavy sigh, unable to understand the reason for your brutal cold shoulder. “Do you want to know why?”   You finally look at him and all Jungkook manages is a grimace. Everyone’s asked him why. Why he joined the curling team. Why he dropped hockey. What exactly happened. His high school acquaintances that he hadn’t spoken to in years had even contacted him to ask. Relatives. Journalists. Opposing members. Strangers. Their own curiosity causing them to pry into his life.   Taehyung’s asked, even the coaches have. Yet, each and every time, he’s simply brushed them off. Jungkook provided some excuse, that he wanted to try something new, that he was getting bored of the same game…..and he said them over and over again even if it was all lies.   “Do you want to know why I quit hockey?”   “No.” You break away from his gaze. “I don’t really care.”   Jungkook frowns, wholly confused at your nonchalance. “Then—”   “I know you don’t care about curling,” you tell him bluntly and without the bite that Yoonji often brings to her words. The way you speak is calm and composed, mellow even. You have a blank expression, casual like you’re commenting on the nice weather. It’s as if you don’t give a damn about his existence. You don’t care if he’s a famous hockey player or a team member with less than a month of experience. You don’t care if he’s just another boy off the street trying to chat.   You are fearsomely indifferent to him.   And while Jungkook is blinking, reeling from your interesting apathy, you continue, “But I hope you gain enough respect for the sport so you won’t drag us down.”   His lips part, not sure what he would even say when he’s stunned speechless. But you beat him to the punch, taking a look across the street and glancing at him quickly. “I have to catch the bus. See you tomorrow.”   He should be put-off by your personality, right? Any normal boy would find your aloofness boring and they’d back off. You haven’t spoken much to him, you’ve expressed disinterest in him completely — you don’t give a fuck if he were to join the circus tomorrow.   He doesn’t even think you’re putting on a coy act or playing ‘hard to get’, if that’s even a thing anymore. And he’s never been into that type in the first place. It’s not that you’re unobtainable and that makes Jungkook interested. Simply, you just seem more preoccupied with the colour of the sky, if there’s gum on the ground, when the bus will turn the corner and come down the street.   And somehow...that makes you so attractive.   “Oh…yeah...see you tomorrow.”   You’ve run off before he’s even finished bidding you goodbye.

There are a lot of intense sports out there.   Sports that require lifetimes of training to perfect. He’s seen it all, been in it. He’s witnessed severe diets, portions of food smaller than the size of his palm. Jungkook’s personally been on strict weight control monitoring. He’s witnessed people work out for ten hours a day. He’s exercised as much as a bodybuilder. He’s seen people on the rink for nineteen hours a day. People who live and breathe the sport, not knowing anything else in life, so entirely absorbed that everything else fades into the background.   After all, Jungkook himself doesn’t know anything else other than the ice.   And yet, curling proves to be something he doesn’t know. It’s both intense and not.   While he isn’t being monitored for his weight or what junk he puts into his mouth, while his every move isn’t being watched by his coaches, the practice isn’t trivial or easy. For one, it requires a lot more strategy than he’s used to.   “You know the types of shots, right?”   You don’t talk to Jungkook much, except when it’s about curling. He almost gets whiplash to how different you are, from being completely silent to commanding the members on the sheet.   “Guard, draws, and takeout.”   “Good. So this is the fifth end. What you want to do is a draw shot. So, try to reach the house.”   Jungkook looks off to where you’re pointing, imagining a direct line to where the stone needs to go. “But shouldn’t I try to hit that rock right there? I think I can bump it to the house.”   “No.” You shake your head. “You might bump that other rock and accidentally do a takeout. It’s too risky. Plus, you have to set up my shots too.”   “Alright.” Jungkook gets into position, squatting down and limbs moving a bit stiffly, still trying to get used to it all. He puts his sliding foot in front of the hack foot, not having a lot of pressure on his left ankle. He keeps his hips and shoulders square and steady, inhaling a breath before throwing the stone. His arm gives it an extra push and he releases it cleanly.   The stone curls on the sheet, bending slightly towards the target, known as the house.   You lower yourself, right beside him. Immediately, Jungkook’s breathing halts. It occurs to him how close you are. Your hair nearly skims the skin of his cheek and your scent tickles his nose in a pleasant way. He swallows hard before turning his head slightly to meet your eyes—   “YUP! Right up!” You scream at the two individuals holding the brooms, startling Jungkook from your ear-bleeding volume and the entire arena turns to stare. “Hurry hard! Hard! Hard! HARD!”   The stone begins to curl less and less and it goes for longer as Yoonij and Taehyung continue working hard, using their muscle power into the handle of the curling brush. “Sweep, motherfucker!” Yoonji shouts to the person across from her.   “I am sweeping!” Taehyung shrieks in exasperation.   “Sweep harder!”   “It hurts my arms!”   “I don’t care, harder!” The girl grunts. “That all you got, Kim?”   “Fuck.” He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down and sweat dripping off his skin from the constant movement.   “WOAH!” You shout and they stop sweeping at once, slowly watching as the stone slows and makes it close to the button. Once it’s stopped completely, they turn and you nod before looking over to Jungkook. “Not bad. You might want to give it more of a push when you release it, but aside from that, not shabby for the first one. You still have the sixth end and then it’s my turn.”   “Okay.” Throughout the rest of the game, Jungkook is given more advice and learns strategies that only someone experienced would know. It’s a bit overwhelming since there’s more to it than he would expect. He’s used to using his body more than his brain, but he doesn’t mind the change at all.   By the end of it, he’s gotten a good grasp and the four of you gather up again.   “That was good but still not enough,” Yoonji sighs, turning to look at the final placement of all the stones.   “I think we did pretty well for our first practice. We’ll probably win at this rate,” Taehyung voices his own opinion but the short bob-cut girl hits the back of his head which causes him to wince.   “We’re not trying to be just good, dumbass. The goal isn’t to win the championships. We have to make it to the Olympics.” There seems to be mutual agreement over the statement.   Before Jungkook can turn to you and talk, you’ve all returned to your positions, doing it all over again.   //   An entire month passes of more practice and extensive training. Adora often conducts the exercises and curling drills, even showing stretches that will help strengthen core muscles. On the other hand, Namjoon watches the actual practice games and gives tips on the strategy as well as everyone’s techniques. Aside from that, the four of you also go against the women’s and men’s teams in friendly rounds to practice. Usually you all win.   Jungkook receives a set of blue uniforms — a track jacket, a sweater, a shirt and some pants, all imprinted with the logo — and it makes him officially part of the team.   “You know…” Taehyung is fooling around with the broom and he puts it in between his legs. “If I wasn’t curling, I’d probably be part of muggle quidditch.”   The guy begins running around on the sheet, pretending to fly and Jungkook grins while watching him. When Taehyung lifts up his gripper shoe and begins to slip around with his slider shoe like a figure skater, he eventually loses traction and collides to the ground. Luckily enough, he doesn’t sustain any injuries but the end of the broom hits on his...goods and he cries out.   “Holy shit!” Taehyung grabs his crotch, wailing out as tears accumulate in his eyes. “My future kids!”   Jungkook kneels over in laughter, having to look away to calm down. “You better not break that broom or else I’m sure Yoonji would rip your balls off anyhow.”   Taehyung rolls all over the ice, still trying to recover. “You’re all so cruel. What’s more important, my pickle or the equipment?”   “The equipment,” Jungkook barks out another stream of laughter and Taehyung stops rolling, instead settling on his back and staring at the ceiling and the bright lights.   “I need a drink or two.”   “You don’t even like alcohol.”   “Yeah. It’s bitter.”   “You spat out the shot I gave you.” Jungkook crosses his arms, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as he reminds the brunette of the memory. “You spat it all over my lap.”   Taehyung gives a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. You looked like you pissed yourself after. I totally ruined your chances with that cute waitress.”   “Nah, she wasn’t that into me anyways and you were a terrible wingman.” His hockey teammates have slowly cut contact with him, having no reasons to continue communicating and even when it was painful, Jungkook never expected to make a new best friend here.   “Hey, Tae, can I ask you something?”   The guy shifts to lay on his side, propping up his elbow and resting his head in his hand, flashing a sexy pose. “Depends. If you’re going to ask for a threesome, me, you and Yoonji, we have to ask if Yoonji’s down and that might take a bit of….convincing.”   Jungkook hums. “I can kind of understand why Yoonji always sucker punches you now.”   “Wow, rude.” He puts a hand over his chest. “I don’t deserve her harsh punishments, even if it’s kind of hot. It still hurts, y’know.”   The younger scoffs and sits down, the chills running through his bones. His hand skims along the smooth ice, welcoming the frigid temperature that seems to cool down the rest of his body. He doesn’t look at his friend, too transfixed over the ice. “It’s about Y/N.”   “What about her?” Tae wiggles his brows up and down. “You interested?”   “No, it’s not like that. I’m just curious. Is she always like that?”   “Always like what?”   He chooses the first few words that come to mind. “Calm. Collected. Apathetic.”   Taehyung makes a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat and frowns, considering the question seriously before he shakes his head. “No, not really. I actually don’t think Y/N is apathetic at all.”   “Really?” Jungkook is surprised. “Because she doesn’t give a shit about me. I mean, she doesn’t even talk to me if it doesn’t have to do with curling. And when I try to talk, she answers me with one word.”   “Wow.” There’s a twinkle of amusement sparkling in the boy’s irises. “Does she hate you or something?”   “She said she doesn't.” When Taehyung gives him a look of ‘how can you be so sure’, Jungkook adds on, “I asked.”   “Y/N’s a bit timid, I guess.” He folds his arms behind his head, resting. “She’s actually pretty clingy and affectionate and talkative when she gets into it. Reminds me of my younger sister. Yoonji’s so close to her because Y/N practically latched onto her. Plus, Y/N awakens a protective instinct in a lot of people. But she can be annoying. Don’t tell her I said that.”   Taehyung laughs, his words holding no malice and spoken all in good fun, as if he was talking about his own sibling, slightly endeared if anything. “Maybe it’s better if you keep a distance, then you don’t have to suffer from her rants.”   Jungkook is absolutely shocked.   He hangs onto every syllable that his friend speaks and it’s almost like he’s talking about a completely different person. He looks away, fingernails skimming on the ice as he unknowingly pouts. “Maybe she really does hate me.”   “Probably not. Y/N’s not the type. She’d only hate you if you hated curling or something.” Taehyung giggles and gets up to his feet, stretching out his arms. “But that’s probably not it. She’ll warm up to you eventually. Give it some time. But anyways, you wanna go grab some fast food? I’m starving.”   Unfortunately, Jungkook doesn’t hear his friend. He’s too preoccupied, or rather, being driven insane. The more and more he hears about you, the more curious he becomes.

The pressure is on.   With only so much time left, it was really hitting you like a ton of bricks. You have to do well. Especially since you carried such a big role on your shoulders. You are the captain, the leader of the team. The last two shots are yours and if you don’t do well, you’ll let the rest of them down.   These thoughts echo in the recesses of your mind and you get down into position. The arena is quiet, lights only shining on the ice, the smooth surface shimmering, and you hold your breath. With one swift motion, you throw the stone towards the house at the end of the sheet, trying to reach the center. It travels close, but not close enough.   And you throw another one. And another one. And another one.   You keep throwing until all ten are gone and then you walk to the end, collecting them again and starting the entire process over. You can’t feel anything, not your fingers or the tip of your nose. Sweat drips from your skin, all you see is the stone and the house. All you want is to win.   Everything else fades into the background.   “You should drink something.” Your concentration is shattered when something cold presses against your cheek. When you look up, blinking past the bright fluorescent lights to the shadow looming over you, you find Jungkook holding a water bottle.   “Thanks.” You’re breathless and you sit down properly, letting your legs rest as you twist the cap of the bottle open, downing half of the liquid and quenching your thirst.   Jungkook sits too, but he maintains a good distance to not make you feel uncomfortable. “I..uh..came to practice too and I saw you. How long have you been here for?”   You lightly shrug. “Time?”   He’s learnt to read your own worded answers and glances at his phone. “Eight.”   “Oh.” It’s later than you expected. “Twelve hours.”   “You were here since eight am?!” Jungkook’s doe eyes are double in size, his mouth hanging open. You don’t pay any attention to him, stretching your arms and wincing a little. “That’s...impressive. Have you eaten anything yet?” You shake your head and he clears his throat. “Do you want to go grab something together? I mean...I haven’t had dinner yet either and only if you want to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfor—”   “Sure.”   Jungkook’s surprised you actually agreed and he doesn’t want to admit how happy it makes him.   The both of you end up walking down two blocks to the twenty-four hour convenience store. At this time of night, there’s no one except for you and him, some college student, and a bored high schooler cashier. The sound of the fridges whirl in the back and your apathy is replaced with interest as you lean forward, studying the rows and rows of food carefully. Jungkook shifts to stand beside you, considering the products as well.   “What are you getting?”   “Ramen.” A ghost of a smile appears on your face for a split of a second and you grab two of them. Before heading to the counter, you pick up candy and snacks like you’re trick-or-treating and you turn to Jungkook with another idea. “You want drinks?”   Holding cup noodles of his own, his eyes light up. “Sure.”   The pair of you gather outside to eat. You’re waiting for your noodles to cook in the boiling water, the cup sitting on the square plastic table while you’re settled in the white plastic chair.   The street is quiet; the only noise is the muted buzz of the lamppost above you, casting a yellow glow down and bleeding together with the warm light coming from inside the store. After a moment, Jungkook comes out after pouring water into his own cup noodle but he has something else in hand.   You jump when something cold presses on your left shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he mumbles when you take the ice pack, looking at it, and he settles into the seat across from you. “Your left shoulder hurts, right?”   The coldness soothes the aching muscle and you lose tension in your body. “Thanks.”   You’re surprised that he noticed. You didn’t even realize yourself, having accidentally overexerted your body during practice.   Jungkook sits back and opens a bag of honey chips, throwing a few in his mouth, the snack crunching as he chews. There’s a moment of silence before he breaks it. “We work in a team.” You meet his eyes and he smiles gently. “It’s okay if you rely on us.”   “I know,” you murmur. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”   “You won’t. If we win, we win together. If we lose, we lose together. That’s why I like team sports the best.” Jungkook grins and a small sigh of contentment leaves the seams of his lips. “You’re never alone.”   You stare at him. Jungkook takes another handful of chips before setting it down, continuing to mumble as he chews in his cheek, “Anyways, you should keep an eye on that shoulder. Tell me if it worsens. If it doesn’t get better by tomorrow, we can go down to the clinic.”   “Thank you.”   “No problem.” Jungkook mixes his noodles, looking to see if it’s ready yet. He sets it down, letting it cook for another few minutes as he cracks open the bottle and takes a small sip.   “I forced myself to play through an injury once.” He stares down at the label, rotating the bottle in his hand and letting the liquid slosh around inside. “I thought the entire team was counting on me. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and I had worked so hard to be there that day. I didn’t want to give it up. But if I didn’t play that day…..”   It’s not difficult to put two and two together.   “You wouldn’t be here right now.”   Jungkook raises his head and locks his gaze with yours. Your stare is powerful, like you’re really looking at him, maybe even straight through his skin, and he becomes nervous. Still, he prefers this over you purposely avoiding eye contact.   “Yeah...maybe not..” Suddenly his appetite is lost but he shakes off the feeling, taking the noodles and forcing himself to eat it. He shrugs. “I’m just happy I can be on the ice.”   You mix your own noodles, stirring before blowing on them thoughtfully. There’s some awkward silence before you take the leap, deciding to reveal a secret of yours in exchange for his. “....I was supposed to be a figure skater.”   You’re not sure where it’s coming from but you’re in a reminiscent mood and the memory comes stumbling to the forefront of your mind. Jungkook looks up and you continue, “I wasn’t good at making friends. So when I was in elementary, my mom signed me up for a sport so I could get to know people.”   There’s a slight smile on your face and you open the bottle, taking a sip. The alcohol burns pleasantly down your throat and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “She was supposed to sign me up for figure skating, but she signed the wrong form and I joined curling instead.”   Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when you’re sighing and pouting. It’s tragically funny. He’s baffled considering how curling and figure skating are two very different things and you were now in this sport all because of an accident. He wonders if he would’ve met you if the circumstances were different — if he had continued with hockey and you were a figure skater. Maybe you would’ve run into each other at the Olympics or some other competition.   “What happened after that?”   “I went out on the ice for the first few weeks and nine-year old me thought we were doing exercises before they gave us skates. You know...so we can get used to the ice. But eventually when they never gave me skates and handed me a broomstick instead, I knew something was wrong.”   He’s chewing a mouthful in his cheek, reminiscent to a squirrel and he’s unable to repress his grin. “And you never switched to skating?”   “No.” The corners of your lips are meekly upturned. “I found out I really like curling. The coaches were nice, I made friends, it kind of felt like a family. So, I stuck with it and here I am.”   Jungkook hums, agreeing with you. His hockey team felt more like a frat house, which he didn’t mind. But there was something different about the curling team that was so much warmer. The atmosphere was vastly different, almost like everyone actually cared for one another.   “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if my mom signed me up for something else and not curling,” you say after swallowing some noodles down and taking a sip of the drink. It can be pretty fun thinking about the endless possibilities. “I could’ve done anything...like become a clown.”   “I think you’d be better as a mime,” he snickers and you narrow your eyes.   “I would not.”   “Yeah, you would,” he lightheartedly teases. “If I passed by, I’d make sure to spare you a few coins.”   “Psh.” All you manage is a scoff and Jungkook laughs, having rendered you completely speechless.

“Can you believe we’re here?” Taehyung whispers in absolute amazement, mesmerized by the building in front of him. All four of you have your heads knocked back, staring up at the arena that seems to tower in the sky. It’s massive and looking at the top makes your necks hurt.   This isn’t like the small arena where your team practices at. It isn’t those small community centers or a tiny indoor area or a puny stadium, but a legitimate, massive arena.   “Well considering we were just on a five hour bus...yeah…” Yoonji hums, her butt cheeks still aching from sitting on the stiff seats and being knocked around every other minute from the bumpy road. “I can believe that.”   Namjoon and Adora stand behind you and the former man presses a hand to Jungkook’s shoulder and the other to Taehyung’s who are both standing on different ends of the group. “Alright kids, don’t get too comfortable. I know our opponents are nice as all hell and they invited us to have dinner with them, but the championship is still in two days. We gotta get that blood pumping.”   “When are the others coming?” Yoonji asks, already wanting to get a move on.   The coaches got special permission to try out the sheet. Every place was a bit different and it was best to get a good feel for the arena before the actual competition starts. An advantage to the team being split into men’s, women’s, and mixed, was that you could all compete in friendly rounds together and not have to go out of your way to invite an opposing team to play.   This would be the last practice round before resting fully tomorrow for the actual games.   “They’re still getting settled in at the hostel.” Adora checks her watch. “They should be here in less than twenty minutes.”   “You know what’s my favourite part of this job? The paperwork.” Namjoon sighs in exhaustion, running a hand over his face and probably clogging his pores as he does so. “We have to figure some stuff out. So, go inside first and stay there. And don’t cause any trouble.”   At the word ‘trouble’, Yoonji feels something on the side of her face, a strong force, and when she turns her head, she glares at her coach. “Why are you staring at me?”   “No reason.” There’s a tight-lipped smile that comes from Adora.   No amount of staring or glaring can help. The four you are lost causes, troublemakers from the start.   But things go well when you enter. It’s nice and all you manage to do is marvel at the architecture, the high ceilings and white pillars that hold the infrastructure. If the entrance is this lovely, you can’t imagine what the rest looks like. For one, you know there are multiple rinks in here, not just sheets for curling, but also for skating, hockey, and all other kinds of ice games.   As you wait — Taehyung bothering Yoonji for his own amusement while you and Jungkook make small talk — the peace is disrupted by loud, boisterous noise coming from a cluster of hockey members exiting from a door.   They’re dressed in red jerseys, hair wet with sweat, brand name duffle bags slung on their shoulders. Before you look away and mind your own business, one of them nudges the other.   “Hey….isn’t that Jungkook?”   Not being discreet at all, they point right to where you are. Beside you, Jungkook seems to stiffen, eyes downcasted. He recognizes the group as a team he used to compete with.   “Jeon Jungkook?” The taller one snorts. “Nah, can't be. What are they anyways?”   “Oh, isn’t there something going on this weekend?” Someone else butts into the conversation.   “What?”   “Can’t remember.”   “It’s curling, dumbass.” Another calls out from the back of the group with a bark of a laugh.   But the shorter one frowns in confusion. “What’s curling?”   “It’s the cleaning sport. They mop. The sweeping thing.” The taller one literally facepalms when the other guy is still blank. “You know...the one where they’re always screaming.”   “Oh. That.” He’s not that enlightened by the revelation. “How is that even a sport?”   “Beats me. Doesn’t need any skills or talent. Bet my two year old nephew could play it.”   “Guys, guys, you’re so uncultured.” The other guy laughs. “It’s the sport for women. They’re competing with their scrubbing skills, duh.”   Another one of the members chortles. “More like a sport for janitors.”   The entire team tunes into the conversation, laughing and openly insulting you four as if you’re not even standing right there. “Janitors got bored and wanted to make a sport for themselves.”   But if there’s one person who won’t allow themselves to be made a mockery, it’s Min Yoonji.   The girl stands up to her feet in one fluid motion, her voice loud and dripping of venom. “Hey! If you got something to say then say it to our fucking faces, you pathetic cowards.”   The taller one puts his palms up. “Woah there, the cat bites.” The entire group laughs boisterously, acting like high school assholes that never grew up. “You should save that passion for your little game, sweetheart.”   “You must be really good at cleaning,” another pipes up with a dumb joke that they think is so funny. “How much to hire?”   A muscle twitches in her cheek. Her jaw clenches hard enough for her teeth to shatter and she balls up her fist, nails sinking into her skin while she takes a step forward, ready to throw punches and scratch faces. But Taehyung’s own hand is faster, moving up to grip at her shoulder to stop the girl from making any mistake. “Yoonji...”   “Don’t touch me,” she hisses out and shakes him off.   Jungkook’s been over the rules tens of times before, especially when Namjoon’s lecture on the ins and outs of championships was an hour long and Yoonji, herself, reminded him not to fuck shit up for the rest of them.   If there’s violence, the entire team can be disqualified from participating.   Everything you worked so hard for will go down the drain.   “Stop it.”   You stand on your feet before Jungkook can step up. And like always, you are calm and collected, seemingly unaffected by the other’s outrageous and disgusting comments.   “Hey,” some guy whispers from the group while you’re trying to compose Yoonji, but Jungkook notices and catches wind of what he says. “That girl’s kind of cute. How much do you wanna bet I can bend her over tonight on my kitchen counter.”   The other snickers, “Be careful, she might start cleaning it.”   Had anyone aside from Jungkook heard it, there would be blood shedding on the floor and scalps ripped off of heads. Yoonji is already physically shaking, angry to the brink of tears and it’s less because of what they said and more to do with the fact that she can’t do anything about it. People like them will always step on what you love most.   “Awww, looks like the little maid is all talk. Got no strength in those arms of yours, honey?” Someone aggravates Yoonji on purpose, too entertained with how you and Taehyung are trying to placate her and force her to walk away. What they don’t know is that they’re not just poking a bear with a stick, but an entire team of rabid, fucking bees.   Bees are always scarier than bears.   Yoonji spins on her heel to face them, this time a vein in her forehead bursting in her skin. “Shut the fuck up, you piece of literal dog shit. Your mom should’ve swallowed you when she had the chance or was it your dad that had a weak pull out game? Stop talking before you overexert your last brain cell.”   “What the fu—”   Jungkook snorts, and he slides himself to stand in front of you. “If you guys have so much time as to stand around and insult us, then maybe your time is better spent practicing.”   A few brows raise and others nudge each other. There’s a murmur over the group of eleven, some comments made from disbelief and others in hilarity. “Oh my god.”— “No fucking way.” — “It is him.” — “It’s Jungkook.”   He cocks his head to one side. “If this is what you’re doing all season, it’s no wonder you lose every game you play.”   “Wha—”   “What was it again?” Jungkook pretends to think before he leans forward like he’s unsure of himself. “Didn’t we win seven to zero last season? I think you broke a record, huh? I guess that’s the only record you’ll ever be breaking.”   Taehyung giggles hysterically, stomach aching as it squeezes and he has to physically wipe his eyes from tears of happiness. “No way, seven to zero?! Oh my god!”   Jungkook laughs too, turning to his best friend. “No one ever loses that badly. It’s actually kind of impressive how bad they can be. But it was honestly really sad to play against. I felt bad.”   They’re embarrassed and humiliated, a handful of them turning away and others clicking their tongue and muttering ‘whatever, man’, unable to refute the truths that come from him. But the taller guy can’t handle it. “Jeon, you better watch that mouth of yours!”   “Or what? You’re going to score into my net?”   Taehyung is brought into another fit of laughter. The corner of Yoonji’s lip draws upwards, arms crossed and taunting them while the guy is left red-faced, ashamed at the memory. His jaw ticks and he shouts, “Jeon!”   “If there’s any cleaning to do, then it’s your team that needs it.” Jungkook smirks, channeling his inner arrogance, playing the role of the frat house fuckboy, a facade he had perfected when he was part of the hockey team. “Also, you shouldn’t be so disrespectful to janitors considering your dad is one, Joshua.”   They’re left completely baffled.   //   The four of you are walking off, to god knows where but that’s not the point. There’s a surge of satisfaction and confidence that boils in everyone’s veins and it feels badass to walk together like this, as if telling the rest of the world that you guys can’t be fucked with.   “Ugh, I should’ve just punched them.” Yoonji throws her fist in the air, alternating both arms, and Jungkook can hear how the wind whistles with her swiftness. She should’ve tried boxing instead or the MMA. Jungkook’s certain she’d do well in those areas.   “Or we could’ve waited until it was night and then jump them in a back alley,” Taehyung jokes around even though it looks like Yoonji’s legitimately considering it. “But honestly, Jungkook burned them so hard. Did you see the looks on their faces?” He’s still laughing. “Like I thought they were gonna piss themselves from Yoonji’s savage insult but after Jungkook, goddamn, they looked like they were gonna cry.”   “Yeah. Not too bad, Kook.” Yoonji smirks in satisfaction, giving him her seal of approval. “You’re a pretty good asshole when you want to be. Not bad at all.”   “Uh, thanks?”   “But I’m still pissed.”   “Just ignore them.” Out of the four, you’re the most apathetic to the whole experience. Sure, you can’t find words to describe how cruel they were and had you been alone, you probably would’ve filed an official complaint, but it was all so childish. Ultimately, you’d rather not waste your energy on such useless things. “Don’t let them have that power over you. At the end of the day, what they think and do has no effect on us.”   Yoonji leans on you, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “You’re such an angel.”   “No. I just think winning is more important.”   “Touché. Let’s win this.”

If there’s one thing Jungkook might never get used to is celebrating before the competition.   But here you all were, the entire curling team of twelve people and two coaches surrounding a giant table in a fried chicken restaurant, having drinks and eating away like it’s a wedding celebration.   Taehyung told him that this was one of the few traditions your team had and Jungkook had to admit, it was more than nice. Before any games, the hockey players would play up their performance through arrogance and mask any inch of nervousness. Jungkook would always have to hide his shaking hands deep within his pockets.   But he didn’t need to put on any tough act here and strangely enough, he didn’t even feel any rush of anxiety. Jungkook feels calm, assured, especially when Namjoon was toasting that no matter what happens, everyone’s already happy to have made it this far.   “I really like curling,” Jungkook comments thoughtfully after sipping on some beer. It’s kind of gross and bitter, but he thinks in the future, he’ll become nostalgic drinking it again.   Yoonji raises a brow and Taehyung giggles, a bit tipsy. But tonight, he can drink to his heart’s content since tomorrow will be dedicated to recovering from hangovers. “Really? That’s great, Kookie!”   “Yes, because we oh-so need Jeon Jungkook to like curling when the match is in two days.” Yoonji rolls her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her tone and she bites into her chicken drumstick like a wild animal before pointing the bone at him. “Why did you even join us if you didn’t like it in the first place?”   He laughs, feeling light and happy from the alcohol. “That’s not it. I’m just saying that I really appreciate it now...the sport, the team, the atmosphere of it all.”   “We’re known for our good sportsmanship!” Taehyung chirps while fist pumping the air. “It’s the Spirit of Curling!”   “Oh my god.” Yoonji groans. “I hate this shit so bad.”   “But that’s the fun of it, Yoonji!” The brunette pouts, jutting out his bottom lip and fluttering his lashes. “When our opponent does well, we congratulate them. When we do well, they congratulate us. Isn’t that so nice? We never cheer for mistakes, there’s never negative comments, the winners even buy the losers drinks, we can even end a match if we think we’re gonna lose and that’s okay! Isn’t that so, so, so, so, so, so nice?!”   “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” She grumbles, moving onto a fried chicken wing and double fisting with another drum.   In the meanwhile, Taehyung has tears accumulated in his eyes, becoming overly sentimental over the game. “Do you think I can marry curling?”   “At this rate, the only thing you’ll be able to marry is your anime girl body pillow.”   Taehyung puts a hand over his chest, gasping dramatically at his teammate. “You know about Hariki?”   Jungkook laughs and then he hears something else, something soft and sweet, a tinkling sound and his ears perk. When he looks over, he realizes that it’s you who’s laughing at something else. But your cheeks are puffed out, eyes slightly crinkled and a noise he’s never heard before leaves your throat. You’re obviously drunk, giggling with the others, and Jungkook can’t find it in himself to look away.   Yoonji removes herself from Taehyung’s conversation, rolling her eyes and completely done with him. She looks across from her to the boy who’s suddenly become quiet and when she follows Jungkook’s line of sight, it lands straight on you. Her brow raises and within one blink of a second, she understands exactly what’s going on.   “Looks like our little Kookie has a little crush.” She’s leaning forward with a sinister expression, whispering lowly so no one else can hear, at least not when Taehyung’s bothering someone else and his obnoxious later echoes throughout the room.   On the simple word ‘crush’, it has Jungkook turning back, nearly breaking his neck from the whiplash. His doe eyes double, cheeks deepening in its pink hue and the glow isn’t from the alcohol. “W-what?”   Yoonji smirks and she grabs the nearest bottle by the neck, pouring him a shot, thankfully something other than beer. But still, he watches her warily and she pours her own drink, holding it before motioning for him to do the same. She clinks the glass together and the two of them down it in one go. A satisfied sound escapes from her mouth when it burns her throat pleasantly.   “That’s for our alliance. I want to shank you less these days.”   “Thanks?”   “You’re welcome.” Her smirk expands eerily and he’s reminded why he wanted to piss his pants when he first met her. She is one scary, scary, petrifying lady. “But you’re treading on some dangerous territory, Jeon.” Yoonji steals a discreet glance at you before staring him right in the eyeball. “Make a wrong move and I’ll rip off your ballsack.”   “Uhhh….yes, ma’am.”   “Good.” Another smile appears as if she didn’t just threaten him and the bob-cut girl leans back, increasing her volume, joining back into the regular conversation. “Who poured a drink for Y/N?! You know she’s a lightweight!”   “It’s fine!” You wave your hand, giggling before latching onto one of the older ladies beside you, hugging her arm to your chest. She doesn’t seem to mind, if anything she’s endeared and reminded of her own kids that grew up too fast. “I’m fine….”   “Jackson—”   “I didn’t.” The older man holds up his palms, laughing in good nature next to his fiancée. “I can’t believe I’m being wrongly accused!”   The drinks and chicken-eating continues into the night. After tomorrow, the games will begin and Jungkook can sincerely say he’s excited for it. There’s no pressure on him, no heavy weight laid upon his shoulders, no cold sweats dripping off his skin. He’s not completely relaxed but he’s looking forward to it, ready to try his hand at the sport and try to win.   The breeze is cool outside, carding through his hair and making his skin even more flushed. Jungkook digs his hands into his black coat pockets, looking out at the mosaic of city lights. It’s a strange emotion that overcomes him. He thought he lost everything after the injury, lost his friends, his career, the reason he even lived. But here he was, having started over again, and even more content and happy than he thought he could ever be.   “Oh my gosh! Look who it is! It’s my favourite person on the whole planet!” The front door is barely held open by Yoonji’s foot as she carries your deadweight, but the moment your eyes lay on Jungkook, you’re giggling and running over to him. He lets out an ‘oof’ when you suddenly embrace him, engulfing his larger frame with your smaller arms, surprisingly affectionate.   Yoonji sighs, not even trying to peel you off. “Jungkook, can you watch her for a second? I don’t know where Taehyung went and the last thing we need is for him to wander into the women’s washroom again.”   “Again?”   “Again.” She exhales in exhaustion. “God, these people are lightweights and drink like they aren’t. Watch her, I’ll be right back. No funny business!”   A lot of the team members had returned to the hostels early since their regular bedtime was eight, something Jungkook can’t wrap his mind around. It was only ten right now and he can remember being out past midnight. But a lot of the members were older and couldn’t last as long on a night out which was completely understandable.   A few others were in the washroom and the two coaches were paying, splitting the bill and treating the team. So, it was only you and Jungkook waiting outside the restaurant.   “You’re so cute, Jungkook.” You’re still hanging onto him, your back arching when you look up at him, smiling sheepishly and searching his face. He swallows hard, looking straight ahead.   “I...think you’re cuter.”   “Awwwww….” You release him a bit, batting at his arm. “That’s so sweet. See? You’re so nice and kind and soft….”   “Soft?” He raises his brows while laughing and you nod enthusiastically. If there’s one word he would never use to describe himself it would be that word. All the other girls he knows would call him hot or muscular or manly or sexy….not that he was tooting his own horn...he’s just never heard someone call him soft before.   And as if to reaffirm your belief, you move your palms up, squishing his cheeks together with a squeaky giggle. His lips press together and he flinches, finally looking at you. “See? Squishy! You look like a fish.”   “Do I?” His words are muffled and his face is beginning to hurt from smiling so much.   For a mere millisecond, his eyes flicker down to your lips that look so captivating, from the dip of your cupid’s bow to the upturned corners, every line and inch.   “Yeah..but I hate fishes. I had one when I was ten. It was a yellow goldfish and my best friend and I had it in a glass bow and I brought it around with me everywhere. Once, I remember running and the fish fell out of the bowl and I screamed, but dad put it back in. But then I had to flush it down the toilet when it died.” You finally release his rounded cheeks, suddenly sad but still continuing on your rant, “are you ever scared that the dead fishes will appear in your toilet bowl? Like what if it doesn’t flush all the way down? Imagine all the flushed fishes of the world appearing in your toilet when you’re trying to pee.”   “I never really thought about it before,” he says honestly, eyes twinkling in amusement as he watches you. Your skin is glowing underneath the lamp posts’ light and he can genuinely admit you look stunning, even when you’re drunk out of your mind.   “Do you wanna sleep with me, Kook?”   He chokes. The black-haired boy goes pale as he hacks on his saliva unattractively, the air in his lungs ripped in away in utter shock. “w-..what?!”   “You look like you’d be nice to cuddle with.” Your arms return around his abdomen, hugging him. “Like a stuffed bunny. I had a rabbit when I was a kid...but I had to flush it down the toilet too.” Jungkook’s next overwhelming emotion is horror and you laugh. “Kidding!”   Part of him wants to just throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, tired of all your shenanigans and how you’re playing his feelings like a fiddle. But being oblivious to his turmoil, you continue with slurred words, “mom never let me have a bunny...or a horse...or a dog…”   He can understand why you never got any pets if you couldn’t even keep a fish alive.   Jungkook looks down at you and visible gulps. Your tongue runs on the seams of your lips, barely poking out to wet them and Jungkook feels an urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you silent. He wants to press his mouth on yours and taste what kind of chapstick you use, see if they’re as soft as they look.   And yet, he doesn’t.   He doesn’t kiss you because he’s a damn coward. He’s a fool. He doesn’t kiss you because he would want you to remember it. And maybe….maybe if you win the competition in two days, he’ll muster up the courage to.   “I used to watch you play games, y’know.” You break his train of thought, snapping him out of his trance and his eyes flicker to meet yours again. You’re trying to whisper again, “I’m a fan.”   Apparently you like to spill secrets when you’re wasted.   “You are?”   “Yeah. You’re good at everything you do. The best! The golden player!” You flash a thumbs up, still giggling, and Jungkook is so happy, he could combust into flames right now and be lowered into his grave with a stupid grin. “I like you a lot, Kook.”   “Thanks.” His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide and the next thing he says, he means it wholeheartedly, “I like you too.”   “You know what would be really funny?” You’re already laughing, giddy and crumbling your fingers into small fists, trembling with excitement. Jungkook grins, too curious for his own good.   “What?”   You cup your hand over your mouth like you're about to exchange yet another secret, but you’re still laughing like crazy and your voice is loud — “Let’s run away from Yoonji.”   “Wait. What?!” His eyes double. “No, that’s a terrible, terrible idea.”   Before Jungkook can do anything, you’ve suddenly grabbed onto his hand, dashing off. He stumbles forward, right behind you, nearly tripping and falling flat on his face. Jungkook can barely catch a breath and you’re cackling euphorically, running off into the night and dragging him with you.

The cheers from the stands keep him going.   The cold air wafts in the atmosphere, icy breeze deepening his cheeks to rosy hue. The ice rink has a smooth surface, never to be marred by lines embroidered by skates. He steps out on the sheet, ice beneath his feet and the accumulated crowd on the stands cheer, holding the country’s flag up high. The four of you look onward.   Jungkook stands beside you, Yoonji on your side and Taehyung on his other side. Each of you brace yourselves before exchanging looks. “Ready?”   You smile, feeling at ease. “Let’s do this.”

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Emo and Proud (Shinsou Hitoshi X Reader)

Summary: You decide to give Shinsou some music therapy by encouraging him to sing along with you to vent out your stress and some deeper feelings are revealed. 

Hehe one of my headcanons is that Shinsou is a big-time MCR fan, in a way like Misty Day is a fan of Stevie Nicks from American Horror Story :3

BTW SORRY FOR ANY OOC-NESS!!

Featuring: Our Favorite Purple Boy!

You sighed as you finished watching Aggretsuko for the 10th time on your phone.

It was such a cute show even with it’s 15 minute episode runtime. That poor little adorable red panda; you wondered if you would ever end up like that someday since you were going to be a pro-hero someday, and it wasn’t exactly a glamorous job for everyone.

If there’s one thing that show taught you, it’s that music is one of the most life-saving outlets to vent out your emotions. And boy was that true, because your music was pretty much one of your sanctuaries that let you feel and express yourself whenever you sang to yourself or just let all your old nostalgia come back to you in the comfort of your room.

But it was time to pull an Aggretsuko and use the power of music to relieve the stress you had been feeling after the Joint Training and training in general. You knew being a hero would be hard work, but damn, your teacher was starting to look more like a slave-driver at this point.

Thankfully, somehow everyone had managed to catch a break since nothing was really going on… yet at least. And to salvage this break, you secluded yourself from your friends, as much as you loved them, sometimes you needed some alone time.

So, you politely declined their invite to the arcade and stood behind in the dorms. Once you were sure that most of them were gone, you set up a TV you had brought since you couldn’t live without a large-enough television and for the movie nights for weekends.

You hooked it up to your phone and grabbed a brush to act as a makeshift microphone from your room and played up an old nostalgic song from the singer who rose up yet again. It’s a good thing nobody was here, because you were really rocking out and banging your head with the guitar solo. Not that you would have cared, but you didn’t care for some of the remarks you would get, especially from that jackass Bakugou or that snarky chick Jirou.

“Try to tell me what I shouldn’t do.You should know by now, I won’t listen to you. Walk around with my hands up in the air, ‘cause I don’t care… ‘Cause I’m alright, I’m fine! Just freak out let it go!”

Dancing a little bit and raising your fist, you sang as loud as you could and really let yourself cut loose, so much that you were oblivious to someone entering the room who had taken the time to pause and stare at you as you danced.

“I’m gonna live my life, I can’t ever run and hide I won’t compromise ‘cause I’ll never know. I’m gonna close my eyes, I can’t watch the time go by. I won’t keep it inside! Freak out let it go! Just freak out let it go!”

You were flailing your arms about, flipping your (H/L) hair as much as you could, shaking your butt as you pumped your fists to get back in tune with your inner Avril. The music was so loud you couldn’t hear the very quiet snickers coming from your audience.

“Gonna freak out let it go! Gonna freak out let it go!”

Banging your head as the final riff ended you threw your arms up vigorously, “WHOO!” You shouted, turning around with a big grin that dramatically and comically fell as soon as you saw the person you had no idea had been watching you just about the whole time…

“OH GOD! H-Hitoshi!!”

Wild purple hair and all, beautiful, tired purple eyes gleaming with such amusement as his lips were lined with a smirk. He slowly brought his hands up to give you a deliberately slow clap.

“Impressive…” Shinsou finally spoke up, his tone sounding casual and low-key as possible but you knew that this was clearly extremely amusing to him as your face involuntarily grew hot.

“How much of that did you hear… and see…?” You shouldn’t have asked that, but you were curious.

“Everything from ‘Try to tell me what I shouldn’t do’.” He answered you and you sighed a bit, shrugging your shoulders with your hands up in defeat.

“I didn’t think anyone else would be here… sometimes you just need time to yourself ya know?” Sighing, you almost felt embarrassed. Shinsou wasn’t even in your class at the beginning and yet you befriended him during the Sports Festival a LOT quicker than you did your own classmates. It all started when you asked for him to be on your team, which shocked the hell out of him since he didn’t even have to brainwash you like he did Ojiro and Aoyama. And from then, you two just clicked and stood in touch.

“I know. That’s why I didn’t go with the rest of the others.” He agreed with your sentiment, which made you actually kind of happy.

Shinsou was a complete introvert, and yet you managed to get through to him due to similar interests in music, especially when you discussed how the two of you were ‘permanently stuck in your emo phases’. And then you knew about his fondness for cats, which you found extremely adorable since you had a soft spot for cats yourself.

Finally, there was your quirks, and you knew all about the prejudice he got from people simply because his Brainwashing quirk gave him the ability to control people. You had gotten somewhat similar flak for your quirk since your quirk also allowed you to control people, except you had control over their bodies and not their minds.

Emo birds of a feather gloomed and listened to MCR together.

The more you two talked, the closer you became. Which is why you were overjoyed when he started training with Aizawa and finally got into the Hero Course with you and your friends.

But the problem was… now that you were closer to him, you had fallen almost hopelessly in love with him. And now you just embarrassed yourself in front of him even though the plan was to have some time for yourself. However, because you liked Shinsou so much, it was always okay for him to be around you; you could relate to him and you never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t be around you.

“Well hey. We can be alone together… you’re one of the very few people who don’t annoy me. And EVERYONE annoys me.” You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“I can say the exact same thing about you.” Shinsou said as he took a seat on the couch, sighing heavily as you frowned a bit and went over to him. He’d been working extra hard since Aizawa took him under his wing, you were sure that he must have been exhausted.

“Dude you need to relax…” You said, setting your brush down and placing your hands on his shoulders that made him freeze ever so slightly from the unexpected touch. But he wouldn’t ever make himself appear flustered in front of you so he kept his cool.

“It’s not easy to relax when you’re constantly working… even on break-days like these…” He muttered a bit as you started to massage his shoulders a bit.

“Yeah but you can still try! You work too hard man… Aizawa’s really been kicking your ass ever since he took you up… I mean yeah it’s awesome that you’re with us now but you need a goddamn break dude…” You said gently despite your language, digging into his shoulder blades as he grunted a bit but then sighed quietly in content with how good your fingers felt on his sore muscles. Muscles he’d been growing ever since he started training that is…

“I might just sleep or something… that’s a smart way to take a break.” He said, but you immediately shut that idea down.

“Ugh, you’re training WITH Aizawa, not training to BE Aizawa, Hitoshi. Sleeping is great, but you know what else is great? Singing~.” You sang that to get your point across but that just served to irk the purple-haired boy even as he let out a small groan when you got another sore spot that helped him ease up a little bit.

He sighed again, “I don’t sing… I’m probably not even good at it…”

“I’m not good at it but I still do it! You ain’t gotta be good at singing to do it, it’s just fun! Plus you get to vent out everything in the lyrics of awesome songs! Avril Lavigne, Evanescence, Good Charlotte, Three Days Grace, Simple Plan, My Chemical Romance!” You exclaimed and listed out some of the many singers that you enjoyed during your emo phase and STILL enjoyed.

Shinsou didn’t flinch, but hearing those names nearly made him perk up since he DID like all of those groups and singers. Especially My Chemical Romance…

“I mean those guys defined our childhood and shaped up the emo phase that we grew up with and loved because we just didn’t give a fuck about anything and just sang the loser anthems that spoke of our existences at the time… It was a time to be alive because it allowed us to say ‘I am emo and I am proud’.” You somewhat dramatically explained and Shinsou gave you a look when you stopped massaging his shoulders and started talking nonsense.

“It’s who we are Hitoshi! We have all these feelings that we need to vent out! And remind people of the times we grew up in! Say it with me! I am emo and I am proud!” You threw your fist in the air, and naturally Shinsou didn’t follow you as he just stared at you.

”Did you watch Aggretsuko again?” He knew you loved singing, but he had a feeling that one of your favorite modern cartoons had something to do with this little idea of ours.

“Yes… yes I have…” You replied to him rather nonchalantly.

“You watch way too much cartoons…” He shook his head, trying his hardest to not smile or snicker at how stupid you sounded.

“Cartoons also defined my childhood because sometimes you needed a break from your emo phase bro… but my point is… just try it. I sang my heart out to Avril and I already feel a ton better! Aggretsuko teaches that and it’s an excellent lesson!’” You threw your hands up cheerfully, but Shinsou just stared at you with his deadpan look.

“Okay, you must have me confused with someone who does embarrassing things without a care in the world.” He snarked, trying to not show that this kinda thing made him feel a little… nervous. Especially with you here. He wasn’t ready to embarrass himself in front of you, not after you had to watch him lose to Midoriya in the Sports Fest.

And he nearly jumped when you suddenly put your arm around him. “Tosh… it’s ME. You know I’d never judge you. I mean you don’t have to… but I’m sure you’d be awesome at it… you’ve sung a few of your emo phase songs to yourself with the door closed whenever you got in one of those ‘fuck the world’ moods haven’t you?” You softly reassured him, giving him a choice even as you asked him a question.

Shinsou willed himself to not blush with how close you were and how you touched him like that, instead focusing on your words as he looked somewhat defeated. “Yes…”

He gave a heavy sigh. As much as he didn’t entirely want to, he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you were trying to just help him relax. Shinsou would only EVER sing for you.

“Okay… I’ll do one. But you’re not allowed to laugh.” Shinsou finally and reluctantly complied and you practically screamed from joy.

“YES!!! Let’s get out Emo on!” You hugged him suddenly , doing a bit of a dance when you finally got your wallflower friend to try this out with you.

So you gladly grabbed your phone to start looking up a selection of songs, as Shinsou sighed again, unable to believe that he was actually doing this. Well, he trusted you, and generally had fun whenever he did things with you. And although you were more energetic than he was at times, he didn’t mind. He enjoyed that you had more zest than he did.

“All right! Here’s one! Take it Toshi!” You suddenly tossed him your hairbrush, and he quickly caught it, giving you a look afterward.

“(Y/N)…” Shinsou was beginning to feel a bit of nerves even though he shouldn’t have, but it got worse when he saw the song you chose.

This was one of his FAVORITE songs.

“No I can’t… I can’t do Gerard any justice…” He muttered a bit self-consciously, but you just shook your head.

“Yes you can! No one’s a bigger fan of Gerard than you are! Now go on! I’m with ya Toshi!” You smiled wide at him to ease him up, and you took the floor when the song immediately started up

“Long ago, just like the hearse, you die to get in again… we are so far from you…”

Deliberately, you whispered that last part to imitate how the song went, and looked right at Shinsou to cue him to go next. He appeared unsure for a bit, until he took a quick breath.

“Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate… the lives of everyone you know! And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break… And like a blade you stain, well, I’ve been holding on tonight…!”

You nearly jumped as soon as THAT voice came out of Shinsou’s mouth. So much energy and passion as he became MUCH more expressive as he sang the song. His singing voice a lot louder and emotional than his speaking one, and yet there was something haunting and tortured about his voice too. It was beautiful…

However, Shinsou suddenly became more adorable in your eyes as he clutched the hairbrush close to him as he sung and and waved his arm about, as if to follow the way Gerard moved and sung in the music video.

As he sung, at that moment he remembered that you were here as soon as he saw your wide (E/C) eyes and agape mouth. You saw his cheeks beginning to redden as he nearly halted in the verse but you shook your head vigorously, wanting to encourage him to keep going!

“What’s the worst that I could say?”

“Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~!“

You jumped in, singing the first part before bringing your hairbrush over to Shinsou, and he gladly sang the rest along with you. Although you had to whoop when Shinsou got into it, running a hand through his wild hair and following Gerard’s every move from the video.

Crazy, passionate expression and everything and making the same hand gestures and you couldn’t help but dance just as wild as the dancers did and some air guitar, following Shinsou’s rhythm.

“Came a time when every star fall brought you to tears again… we are the very hurt you sold. And what’s the worst you take from every heart you break… And like a blade you stain, well, I’ve been holding on tonight…!”

“What’s the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~! Well, if you carry on this way, things are better if I stay… So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight…!” 

Encouraged, by your enthusiasm, Shinsou got on his knees as he sung the chorus with the loudest voice you had ever heard from him. Although he stood back up a little dramatically when the last bridge came.

He took your hand gently, pulling you in closer as he continued to sing, in a softer, almost whispery voice.

“Can you hear me…?”

“Are you near me…?”

Shinsou looked you right in the eyes, purple eyes luring your (E/C) eyes in an almost intimate moment as your cheeks flushed pink. It felt like this was just for you, and Shinsou made sure of it as he gently pressed his forehead against yours. Silently telling you that this was for you, and that only you could see him bear his soul like this.

You quietly gasped, for a moment you nearly felt like you were in his control because of how his voice just captivated you. But feeling extremely relaxed and yet fluttery with joy as you giggled a bit. When he pulled away, you saw his own face become bashfully flushed as you grinned when he started to sing again.

“Can we pretend to leave and then…”

“We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide!”

While Shinsou sung, you followed his lead, widening your eyes dramatically and pretending to fall backwards like the girl in the video as the chorus came.

“What’s the worst that I could say? Things are better if I stay! So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight~! Well, if you carry on this way, things are better if I stay…So long and goodnight, So long and goodnight…!”

Feeling more invigorated than ever before, Shinsou sang the chorus a little louder, yet still on-key as put his hand over his heart and bore the rest of his soul out.

And when he finished the song, he promptly dropped your hairbrush and you threw both your hands up in the air. “WHOOOO!! That’s my Toshi!” You practically screamed, almost like a fangirl as you quickly threw yourself into him, hugging him tightly and jumping a little bit as Shinsou’s eyes grew slightly wide and he felt his face heating up a bit. He was confident during the song, but now his bashfulness came back.

“That was AWESOME! I didn’t even know you could sing!”

Shinsou really hated his pale skin sometimes, because now he couldn’t hide how much he was blushing from all of your praise.

“I don’t do it much… just in private… I don’t think I’m that good…” He normally wasn’t timid, but you were complimenting him so much and he wasn’t used to that kind of praise. He liked it a lot though, it just made him feel kind of nervous, and yet validated.

“Well you freakin’ ROCKED dude! You totally did Gerard justice!” You continued the compliments, adoring just how red Shinsou was turning as he rubbed the back of his neck and coyly grinned.

“You’re just saying that…” He mumbled a little bit, and for once he flinched when he felt lips pecking his already hot cheek as you giggled and blushed, shaking your head.

“Nope! I mean it… and… I mean it when I say this but… Hitoshi… I think… no… I know… I uh… I like you… not even that… I like-like you…” There you said it, you finally admitted your feelings for the guy. You were a little unsure, but that song and seeing him unleash the soul you fell in love with just brought out the rest of your feelings for him.

Shinsou was taken by surprise. Nothing fazed him that much, but for once he was taken aback, his purple eyes wide and his expression that one of surprise and disbelief. He’s NEVER had this happen to him before. No one’s ever like-liked him before.

“W-What?” He didn’t mean to stutter, but he couldn’t really help it.

“Hee-hee… I’m in love with you…” Giggling shyly, your cheeks began to darken, “Don’t make me say it again, my heart’s like, beating out of my chest…” You shyly said, and although Shinsou was still blushing, he started to smirk a little bit when he saw just how flushed you were. He knew you weren’t lying, but he was still amazed that SOMEONE actually like-liked him. And yet he was also overjoyed that someone he felt close to and actually liked, like-liked him. And if he was being honest, he like-liked you too.

“Well... I actually like-like you too... you’re the only person I think I completely trust.” He admitted, still giving you his little smile. Shinsou wasn’t lying, he’d never show anyone what a dork he could be, except for you. Because you were just as big an emo dork as he was. You were his dork, and he was your dork. 

Your eyes went huge and you blushed heavily when he... reciprocated your feelings?! Was this for real? It had to be. Shinsou never lied to you, he layed jokes on you sometimes, but this wasn’t one of them... 

“For real...?”

“Yes. You’re a complete dork. But... you’re my dork.” Shinsou finally admitted, it wouldn’t be a common thing, but he had to get that across to you just so you wouldn’t faint from how red you were. And he almost jumped when you screamed and hugged him again, very much like a fangirl almost.

“AHHHH! You know it! And you’re MY dork too!” You happily exclaimed, hugging him tightly as Shinsou sighed a little bit, but found it in him to hug you back with a little smile. 

He’d never say it to anyone, but he loved his dork.

~~~Bonus Ending~~~

"We are not alone..." You suddenly perked up where you hugged Shinsou, and he sensed that too. Somebody else was around, and probably eavesdropping on the two of you. "I think I know who." He said lowly, albeit he wasn't entirely bothered; he wasn't happy, but he wasn't bothered either since this person was your friend.

"Ohhhh..." Giggling, you figured out who it was based on that alone. "Hey! Tokoyami! Come out dude I know you're hiding back there." You blatantly called him out, but of course Tokoyami himself didn't reply from the corner.

"No we're not!" Dark Shadow replied for him, and you could hear Tokoyami's annoyed, deep sigh.

"My apologies. It wasn't my intention to eavesdrop..." The crow-headed boy slowly came out of hiding as you waved to him, while Shinsou looked mildly annoyed, having assumed that you were his only audience.

"Oh really? Heh... let me guess... did you hear the song?" You raised a brow, as much as you could at least and Tokoyami looked downwards, almost as if he were a little embarrassed even though you knew he had the same tastes in music you and Shinsou did.

"Yes... I did. It was very impressive. Like Gerard Way was reawakened from his slumber." He somewhat dramatically said as you smiled wide and giggled, patting Shinsou on the back happily. "I know right?! See Tosh! You're AWESOME! And Tokoyami here is one of us! Let's let him hang with us!" You cheerfully suggested, which just annoyed Shinsou even more. However, Tokoyami was pretty harmless and didn't seem to have a thing for you. Even if he did, it was too late because you were his now.

"Okay. I don't see the harm." Shinsou shrugged his shoulders as you happily clapped your hands. "Ahaha! Tokoyami! Hope ya don't mind singing!" That made the similarly emo boy perk up ever so slightly. He didn't plan on singing...

"I'm not a singer." Tokoyami quickly replied. Much like Shinsou, he wasn't entirely willing to show off because he doubted his abilities, but you weren't going to let him feel so insecure as you started the next song.

"You will be!" You smirked, winking at Shinsou as you immediately started to sing the first lyrics. A song you knew no true emo like Tokoyami could ever resist.

"Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor and I can't help but to hear. No, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words~."

You got into it and picked your head up as soon as you sang the first part, running a hand through hair as you sang in your hairbrush, not so subtly flirting with Shinsou as he couldn't help but smirk as you gave him your brush to let him take the next part.

"What a beautiful wedding! What a beautiful wedding, says a bridesmaid to a waiter, and, yes, but what a shame, what a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore."

Shinsou gladly sung, which surprised you a little bit because he was more comfortable when it was only you. And he was, but he knew that you and Tokoyami were just friends, even if the guy liked you it was too late. You were all his now. Still, he would let the fellow emo join in since he was very like-minded and wouldn't judge you both. However, you both just made him feel a little nervous, it didn't help when you gave him the hairbrush...

But Tokoyami knew this song by heart. Every lyric, every rhythm...

He couldn't help it.

"I chime in with a 'Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?' No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality!”

Now you and Shinsou were shocked, both of your eyes growing wide when the ever-so-stoic, dark prince-y bird boy Tokoyami, of ALL people, actually singing with an almost uncharacteristic enthusiasm as he held onto the hairbrush you gave him and sung into it.

But you couldn't help but smile wide, glancing at Shinsou as he shrugged with a small smile. The bird was shocking pretty good too. Might as well join in.

"I chime in with a 'Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!' No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of... poise and rationality! Again..."

Following Tokoyami's lead, you and Shinsou acted as his back-up singers by singing the chorus with him and you provided the crazy dances as the three of you vigorously rocked out.

Emo and proud.

~~~Extra Bonus Ending~~~

Meanwhile downstairs...

"Man it sounds like they're having fun up there..." Kirishima and the rest of the 'Bakusquad' had returned to Heights Alliance early, and you had pretty much put your music on full blast once you hooked it up to the TV. And didn't count on anyone coming back so quick...

"I kinda wanna go up and join em!" Kaminari was getting into the music he was hearing through the walls. "YEAH! Let's go and party with those guys!" Mina would never say no to cutting lose and dancing to awesome music.

"I'm sure (Y/N) will let us. Most of us..." Sero shrugged his shoulders with his casual smile, having known you fairly well but he wasn't so sure you would let ALL of them hang out since you and Bakugou never really entirely got along.

"Amateurs..." Bakugou muttered under his breath as he marched upstairs to go to the floor you were occupying. You were being WAY too damn loud, but at that moment he decided he'd show you how a REAL singer sings My Chemical Romance.

SO LONG AND GOOD NIGHT TUMBLR!!!!

I own nothing :3

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E43 (December 4, 2018)

Tonight’s episode features Marisha Ray and Travis Willingham!

Announcements for tonight: 

New Pumat shirt! Matt and Taliesin will also be playing some Fortnite with a Pumat voice pack. As you do.

#EverythingisContent stream tomorrow at 4PM Pacific: games on the all-new MAME cabinet!

Travis’ FPS stream will be happening next week!

Travis strongly recommends tuning in right at the start of the episode on Thursday. Right at the start. You and all your friends. Don’t miss it. There’s a sneak preview of some sort of animation!

Check out Gil Ramirez’s (an amazing smith, but also of “don’t fuck me Gil” fame) kickstarter!

Stats!

This episode had more spells cast than any previous episode: 76.

3rd time Beau has attempted to Extort Truth, and the 2nd time it’s succeeded.

Fjord has used four potions, all administered to other people. Brian: “For as much as you like swallowing... potions, not so much.”

Fjord has just passed Molly’s natural 20 count, reaching 26. Beau still sits at the top, with 49.

Travis and Marisha agree that this was one of their top five episodes of the show.

Fjord “totally dug” Caleb’s call to go with Wall of Flame to bring the situation with Avantika to a head. He points out that they’d had a conversation about keeping this whole situation in check if need be.

Brian: “You sound like McCree’s drunk uncle.”

The group planned (”we obsessed”) over the game for the entire two weeks, hundreds and hundreds of messages. It pretty much went according to plan. Marisha: “We had contingency plans. We had an ideal initiative, but we were like, if we fuck up, then Nott will take the journal. We had main roles and then understudies.”

Fjord thinks being able to summon demons is pretty much in line with all the weird shit that’s happened to him up to this point. He hasn’t even considered the consequences. Marisha: “I feel like that’s this entire mission. We’ll consider the consequences later.”

During the “I... wait” scene, Brian and Dani were yelling at their TVs, Travis was trying to telepathically communicate, and Marisha had complete tunnel-vision. She knew that if she’d fucked that up, they would have all died. She turned to Travis after Beau got up there and realized, “It’s just me and my words.”

Gif of the Week: the executive goth approves of Fjord’s demon-summoning! Henry models the prize:

Travis gets asked why Fjord slipped into his real voice when yelling that Caleb needed help. Travis pleads the Fifth: “My what?”

Marisha had no idea her mention of the Cobalt Soul would carry so much weight with the Plank King. It was a last-ditch effort after Fjord’s diplomacy fell flat with him. Travis desperately wants to know how much of what Beau said was true.

Brian: “Only Mercer could make Plank King cool again... Planking? Remember?” There is a brief threat of mutiny in the studio. It’s a Tuesday.

Matt mentioned to Marisha that, if Avantika had been allowed to speak, she would’ve called for a trial. Things could’ve gone very wrong for the Nein.

Out-of-context quote of the night: Dani: “Can you fit a puppy in your pocket?” Travis: “Yes, I’m enormous.”

Beau is surrounded by people who can do all sorts of absurd magic, “so of course she’s like, ‘Yeah, I can punch the shit out of you. I’ll start a fucking fight to do it!’”

Travis isn’t working with anything custom for his class, apart from the sword. Brian: “So your gag reflex is right out of the Handbook?” Travis: “That and personal experience.”

Travis on Fjord’s reaction to Avantika’s death: “All great stories are laced with truth. That fucked me up, because I hadn’t realized until that point that if she’s toast, I won’t get to ask her questions.” Not to mention the whole island having reactions to Vandren’s name. “I went back and watched it twice. The ritual, the tattoos, how she found her sphere, all of that shit, I’m feeling more like I knew less of the man than I thought I knew, and she knew more about him than I ever did. It’s fucking me up.”

Fanart of the Week: “I... wait.”

Marisha on Avantika’s very sudden death: “You know how things happen, and you go, wow, I should’ve seen that coming...” The outcome of the first plan was just to get her arrested, and then the fight happened, so she wasn’t thinking about immediate repercussions. She was expecting an arrest, and maybe she’d get executed after they left, but “I mean... that was brutal.” Travis: “It just kept escalating, and then she kept saying nothing after nothing. We’re going to be front row center for this.”

Travis: “Fjord is Lawful Good, clearly--” Brian: “You’re fooling no one with that Lawful Good bullshit, Travis.” Travis: “At least 40% of the audience. Lawful Good. Clearly feels a little distressed that she had to pay with her life.” But he points out that it wasn’t the first time Fjord wanted to see her dead. “If he could’ve seen to it himself, I think he would’ve.” It’s not something he’s very practiced with, but he’s emboldened by his new abilities.

Beau was definitely intimidated by the Plank King, but still had a bit of her contempt for authority figures. “I think it set in pretty hard that she was going to be terse, she was going to be blunt, but she wasn’t going to try anything that was going to get her throat slit immediately.”

Travis hadn’t intended to start picking up pieces of lost friends as part of his identity (Molly’s sword, Vandren’s accent), but it felt like the right fit, since he’s trying to establish his identity for the first time. He’s emulating what he admires about them.

Fjord’s in his early 30s. Beau’s in her early 20s. Playing Beau younger than Marisha lets her give Beau a little extra room for development; it also makes sense with her backstory. For Fjord, he was old enough to have mostly figured out what he was doing... and then everything changed.

Travis: “Fjord saw in Vandren a leadership that empowers people to rise in their station.” It’s about the team succeeding, not one person gaining more power. He’s constantly trying to put people in different situations for success.

Fjord is very attached to this group, but he’s also uncomfortable with how much attention is starting to be put on him. His whole survival mechanism is based on blending in, and being pushed to the front and being forced to make decisions is hard for him (Travis: “And me.”). Fjord is loving everything that’s been happening. The world’s never been richer or more exciting, and he wants to protect that if he can.

Brian: “Are you preparing for when things are as Beau-focused as they are... Fjord-focused right now?” No pun intended. Beau: “It’s a horror that you cannot prepare for. One day Matt will just introduce an NPC and he’s going to look at you and he’s going to be like, ‘Hello, Beau,’ and I’m going to be like ‘AHHH’.” Travis: “The tension is palpable. It’s real.” They compliment Taliesin on his handling of the first character-centric arc in the first campaign.

Brian jokes about everyone stumbling into Yasha’s story while Ashley’s still away, so Travis would have to play her through the whole thing. Travis gives a sneak-preview of how that would go, grabbing Beau’s hand and staring deeply into her eyes.

A gift for Travis from fans! He’s blown away.

Talks Machina: After Dog

Essential update on Henry: he likes wearing costumes because “it feels like being hugged”. There’s talk about him doing a Grog cosplay.

Pumat impressions all around. Travis’ is, according to Marisha, “Like Grog doing a Pumat impression.” Marisha has some practice because she was the one who wrote all the Pumat promos. Travis: “Wow, that puts your Swedish accent to shame.”

Fjord and Jester? “Fjord picks up on some subtle things and some not-so-subtle things, and then probably second-guesses those things.” He’s not too sure where they stand.

Everyone’s worried about their favorite artists’ tumblrs.

Travis reads the German on the back of his chocolate. Marisha: “There are way more syllables there than what you said.” Travis offers the last chocolate to Brian, and promptly eats it in front of him instead. “You gotta act fast on that shit.”

There were some ideas that didn’t work out: Travis was going to cast a spell so everyone could breathe underwater, and they were going to jump off the ship.

A question for Henry: Who’s a good boy?

Quote from the text thread: “Oh shoot. There is an a-hole with a crossbow. Dangit.”

Finally, in case you were losing sleep wondering, Brian is still dabbing every time he says the word “slash” in a URL. Further updates as warranted. 

[itsjustinknow]

a short piece i wrote for my therapist that i never got to show her (so why not put it on the internet)

Warnings: drinking/smoking referenced, accidental (more or less) misgendering brought up, not necessarily harm but implied. it surrounds my relationship with one of my cousins, who was close to me growing up, and his father was not the best person. nothing explicit really besides the drinking part, but i still thought to put that in. also discussion of religion, albeit briefly (specifically Catholicism), and some talk of mental illness.

We’re sitting on the bed of his father’s truck: him drinking from a cracked bottle in the moonlight, and me swinging my feet wishing I had a cigarette. Not because I liked the smell, or the taste, or the idea of poisoning my lungs, but because I needed something to calm myself down and during times like these my impulses would always get the best of me. Never thought you’d take up drinking, I say, eyeing the way the drops fall through long, thin lines from where his godfather dropped it. It was the reason he had it now. He swallowed. Might as well. He’s got the slightest glare as he stares at me from the corner of his eye. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think I was fooling myself. Since I’m just as much like my dad as you say I am. I roll my eyes. You know I only say that when your mom comes crying to me. If you didn’t make her then I wouldn’t talk.

(An hour ago, his mother told me she wished I was her daughter instead, or at least, that I was around more to keep him in line. I smiled and told her I was always around if she needed anything. She’s never realized that we’re practically the same person, my cousin and I. It’s just that one of us is smart enough to shut up.)

He turns his gaze back to the bottle, frowns at it, shrugs, and takes another sip. She’ll be alright. I’m leaving soon.

I know, I say, and I go back to warming my shaking hands.

He laughs at my fidgeting. Why do you do that?

I shrug. Always been jumpy, haven’t I? That’s a lie, and he knows it, but I’m not sure either of us want to point it out. I don’t know what I want, just that I want, and it’s an ache in my chest burning a hole through my skull, and if I don’t do something, I might just throw myself from the truck and see where I land. It’s why I wish I smoked, somedays. Was a bitch to get up here, though. My dad never lets me bring my walker when visiting relatives. Too unseemly, might scare them. In my head, I tell him I sometimes want them to be scared, to see me and realize just how fucked up it all is, and then realized that I’m exactly the same bitch I was at 12 at 16, at 18, at every age. Maybe they’d stop pitying me.

I don’t say that, though. Too unseemly. Might scare them more than I’d prefer.

My hands twitch. He doesn’t notice this time. You’re weird, is all he says. I raise both eyebrows, because I never got the hang of just one. Like you?

He shakes his head. No, like you. Like a ------- brand of weird. I shrug, Maybe, I guess, but I can’t push away the shitty taste in my mouth at the use of That name. I told him once, last time I was here. It was three days after Christmas. We stayed up watching horror movies, one of those apocalypse survival flicks that just came out. He always agrees with the one self-absorbed pragmatic asshole, saying he’s right even if everyone else in the film makes you think he’s wrong. It’s always a man, isn’t it? I’m the movie critic of the two of us, pointing out inconsistencies, judging how every turn is handled. He says if he’s ever in the apocalypse he’ll grab his father’s shotgun and go out in a blaze of fire and glory. If he goes out, of course. I tell him he’ll probably die like that. He tells me to shut up and watch the movie. 

(Halfway through the final act, he tells me he’ll carry me if I want. The girl on screen kills herself, the so-called insane killer laughing in the background with blood on his hands. I tell him to shut up and watch the movie.)

Now I’m fidgeting again, thinking about men and women and bad movie tropes that turn my brain into a time bomb even I know will one day go off but it’ll take me before it does anyone I love, when he asks What are you going to do when I’m gone?

I swing my feet over the edge. Finish school, I say, because that’s the obvious answer and he’ll be annoyed that I said it, go to college. 

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. Yeah, but what else? 

I think about it. My mom wants me to go to that retreat. 

He snorts at that and downs the rest of the bottle in one go. That place is wack, except I’m already laughing at the phrasing as he gives me another of his pointed looks, I’m for real, it’s like they brainwash people!

I let myself grin. You’re just mad that you knocked out five minutes into adoration. 

He tilts his head and looks at the sky. I can’t do the same because it’ll cause too many electric shocks in one go. I don’t know what that was, he says, softly, like it should be a whisper but it’s just a touch too loud, because he always is, but I don’t think it was God. I don’t comment on the lack of my or even our (because since when have we had the same God?). 

What’s the difference?

He turns back to me, eyes hollow, somewhere far away but still right here in front of me. Because isn’t their God the kind of God that says people like us shouldn’t exist?

I swing my feet. It takes a second for me to respond. Gotta be something that keeps changing your ship date.

Yeah, he says, staring back down to my shaking hands, to the shards of glass on the ground from nights past, to the moonlight reflecting off of them. It’s a time loop, really, saying these goodbyes and odd heartfelt moments only to be told not quite, not yet and then start the dance all over again. Every time. Usually he was the one invited to quinces an the lot. I always sit in the corner and steal snacks. 

He’s still staring when he said I don’t think that’s God.

He laughs, I jolt, but of course he thinks it’s funny. He always finds a way to make it funny. He’s going to have to try a harder, he goes on. Shoot, break both my legs or something. 

I find myself grinning again, What, the hurricane wasn’t good enough?

Ehhhh it didn’t affect me directly, so not really.

But don’t you like it? I’m leaning towards him now, full-on grinning, my legs have stopped swinging and my hands are still. 

He blinks twice before responding. What, being here at home? Hell nah.

No, I say, something being bigger than us. Something that can stop you and it works. Don’t you feel it? Don’t you like it when something can finally challenge you? When it can kick you in the fucking teeth?

He doesn’t say anything and I think I’ve gone too far this time, if this is when he leaves, because I couldn’t keep my mouth fucking shut. Because when you’ve been told your entire life you’re simultaneously the best and the worst, the good and the bad, the brightest and the moodiest bitch, you start to wonder. You start to think. Toy start to get tired and you start to get twitchy, like a time bomb waiting to go off at any second. You want to burn just to see how they’d react. Sweet girl, never did anything wrong. Fucking bitch deserves to rot in hell. I’m tired of the time loop, tired of being a paradox. I want to bring the whole world down with me, to see God and laugh. 

Of course, that would be inappropriate. Keep your voice down, you don’t know who’s listening. 

Fuck. I’m not even a girl.

He doesn’t share that sentiment. He shakes his head and laughs. I don’t know. Seems like your weird stuff. The ------- weirdness. 

I lean back at the sound of That name. Asshole. He’s face value, sometimes, wears his world on his sleeves and knuckles, breaks it again and again, boldly and loudly in his blaze of glory, riding off into a piss colored sunset with nothing but the shit on his shoes and the knowledge that he won. I, at least, wanted an audience. He never believed in a quiet existence. I sometimes wish I could build my world like his. 

You wanna watch Black Mirror? he asks. I’ll let you pick first. He knows what I like and doesn’t admit to liking it back. 

I eye the ground before me. You’re gonna have to help me. 

He jumps off. Bet. You’ll be walking in no time. I don’t bother to correct him. But I kick him before he can carry me, laugh when he drags me by the arm, already practically picking me up by the time we get to the back door. He pushes me through. I turn around. He’s gone. I’m not on the step anymore; I’m lying on the gravel, no walls, no ceiling, just the stars above me and the crackle of a fire somewhere in the distance. It’s done now. He’s gone. I don’t have to say goodbye. But I keep my shoes on in case I do. We’re the only ones who could ever kick each other in the fucking teeth. Now, I have to do it myself. He wouldn’t want me to wait for him. Maybe, just this once, I’ll break the rules. 

I miss him too much to make a metaphor. 

The fire burns. I am still waiting.

[swanqueen-is-the-story]

5 Shades of... Shade

Me: “Folks, we gotta look at the C$ wedding!”

You: “I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty fork.”

Me: “Okay, I hear you. BUT, who wants to see it if it’s actually FULL of barely hidden shade?

You: ... *reluctantly raises hand* Me: *excited* Nice! I promise you won’t regret it! *puts on a bullet-proof vest just in case....*

1. The dress

People know Grace Kelly’s marriage - which the dress was based on - was a fucking cage, so what were they really saying about Emma’s marriage to Hook?

Plus, as many people pointed out, Eddy said “If it was Emma’s wedding dress, it would be red and leather.” - so THEY KNOW that the first dress was completely OOC and they want us to know it too. WE BEEN KNEW!!

2. The face 

Snow and Charming are literally DRAGGING Emma to be slaughtered at the altar of heteronormativity. She looks like she’s in pain. I mean, who wouldn’t?

This is NOT the face you end up with when you’ve been instructed to play a happy wedding. That’s the face you end up with when you’re acting “Dying inside but conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it shoooow.” (No wonder they made her friends with Elsa...) She probably needs that constrictive dress to keep her guts from spilling, LESBIHONEST. It’s like that the entire time, except during the sugary sweet song - but we’ll get to that in a minute.

3. The vows 

Next up, wedding vows! She does everything to avoid talking much about her future hubby (ughhhh, will never accept this, never). It’s all about Henry being her true love. Avoidance, much? She even calls him Hook instead of Killian, like... yeah, he’s a hook, alright.

She’s more genuine and open when she looks at - surprise - Henry and Regina.

So I despise the actor as much as the next angry feminist, but I do wanna point out they put Happy in the shot with Henry AND Regina for a reason. They also could’ve excluded Regina but they didn’t. Emma’s happiness is BOTH of them.

And let’s be honest....... Regina’s face is clearly the face of someone that wants to fake happiness while they are dying inside. We feel our homegirl.

4. The choreography

Oh my God, you guys, once you see this, you can’t unsee it! It’s insane! Inspired by this post, but I gotta amplify the shade here. 

The lyrics of the song combined with the dance moves tell a different story!

When they sing about finding the sun, Emma and Hook are back to back. Guuuurl, did I get that right?! YES I DID! To find the sun, she has to turn away from him. Literal shade, baby!

Next, on “leave the past”, Emma moves away from him.

On “Scars”, she grabs him, marking him as a big fucking scar. I don’t think we need reminders of all the crap he said to her a season earlier and before that.... Douche....

Snow sings about it being a long time wish come true. Yeah, right, a long time wish for her! Another reminder Emma is doing this to make her mother happy.

Next up: Give us the visual of two women holding hands and a kid - because that’s the kind of family unit that stands strong together, ain’t it?

Now, I’m not saying Emma moves toward Regina because Regina is the sun Emma can always find, but... that’s EXACTLY what I’m saying!!!! AND LOUDER IF YOU  CAN’T HEAR ME!

Especially since in the next shot about the past and the scars... yup, the camera moves to exclude Regina. Regina’s not a scar, she’s Emma’s future. F-U-T-U-R-E.

During the line “If we’re facing endless night” they literally face each other. Hook is not the sun but the endless night Emma has to face. They even gave him a dark shirt to drive the message home.

You can join someone and fight alongside them, but in this case, she is turning her back on him. If he is the darkness and the endless night, then logically, he is what she’s fighting. It’s about damn time too. Go Emma, honey! Kick him in his... dark one.

Regina once again comes into focus in the frame on the word “Sun”.

This time on “Leave the past and all its scars” Emma leaves Charming when Hook comes in and goes toward Regina and Zelena.

Then Emma moves back to Hook so she is just in time to face him again during the words “Endless night”. In case we didn’t think it was intentional the first time.

Next Zelena and Regina’s hands are clearly shown on “Take my hand”. Then Regina and Emma are next to each other and they’re all moving forward like they’re actually facing an enemy in battle. Note that Hook and Emma are clearly not holding hands this time.

So you know that little moment that every Swen who had the stomach to watch the wedding at all played on repeat cause it seemed like all we got? (Don’t lie, it’s not just me!) Emma and Regina are clearly in the center wearing white and what with Zeze and Hook wearing darker clothes they look like they are framing them as the central couple. Then there is that one little moment... when they’re closest to each other for a split second... that happens exactly on the word “Sun”. Again.

So if they didn’t want me to think Regina is Emma’s bright and beautiful eternal Sun and Hook is her endless night... TRY HARDER, fuckers!

5. The flashback

In the next episode Henry tries to make Emma remember and she has flashbacks to her wedding, but they applied an effect to it that is used in horror films, to mark a bad and traumatic memory. 

Also, look at her face when she gets that sordid flashback.... Yeah I wouldn’t be happy either. It’s even more obvious with the music which matches the horror.

I honestly don’t know if they’re trying to say their hands are tied by the network or they just enjoy torturing their queer female audience. A few of these could be coincidence, but so many... this shit is INTENTIONAL AF!