#queer is a fucking open field that anyone can come and run through and dance in

[hazel2468]

You know, I’ll say it again.

I’m in the process of working out the legal things that need to be done before I actually marry my wife.

When talking to my lawyer, I need to closet myself and refer to my wife’s girlfriend, my metamour, as “a friend”. My boyfriend is also “my friend”. Because I don’t know if my lawyer would agree to continue working with me. If he knew that my wife and I were polyam.

Polyamory is queer. Polyam people are queer, Polyam people share our struggles, our fight for recognition and safety. Our fight to be able to love who we love and be with who we want to be with.

[thebeauregardbros]

LFRP: Alus Beauregard | Crystal Server

THE BASICS ––– –– –

Occupation: Free Paladin | Field Medic | Café Proprietor

Hobbies: Fashion | Tea Brewing | Pastry Creation | Jewelry Making | Reading Faerie Tales

Race: Miqo’te (Sunseeker Descent)

Sexuality/Romance: Asexual / Panromantic

Relationship Status: Single; never married

Languages: Eorzean | Common. Understands all languages; possesses The Echo.

Alignment: Neutral Good

PERSONAL ––– –– –

Alias: “Alice” (💢)

Residence: The Goblet, Ward 8 : Sultana’s Breath Apartments; Wing 1; Apartment #21

Place of Work: Café Nobilitea: Lavender Beds Ward 20, Lot #8 | Anywhere his Eorzean Grand Company sends him.

Birthplace: ??? (Grew up in Eorzea; particularly in the Thanalan area)

Fears: Slugs | Failing to keep his comrades safe | Failing to save his enemies from themselves

APPEARANCE ––– –– –

Height: “Tall for a miqo’te” (5′8″/173cm)

Build: Barrel-chested, muscular; untoned muscles | Long legs, wide shoulders, slender hips.

Age: Unknown; nameday 20 yrs ago. Approximately 23 summers old.

Gender: Male

Skin tone: Tan; Gold Undertone

Eye color: Heterochromia; Deep Fuschia (Right) | Golden Yellow (Left)

Hair color: Golden Blonde

Body Mods: Pierced ears.

Distinguishing Marks: [SPOILER] Large amounts of large-scale bruises and scars all over his body. They are almost always covered up with his clothing. There are no visible scars on his face, neck, or hands.

Common Accessories: Large amounts of gold jewelry; Excessive rings, bracelets, pocket watch chains, earrings, tiaras, circlets, crowns | Large amounts of fresh and/or fake flowers; On his lapel, coming out of his pockets, warn as a flower crown, tucked in his hair, tucked amongst the buttons on his outfits, etc.

BODY LANGUAGE ––– –– –

Walk: Excellent posture; he carries his upper body with strength, while his legs nearly cross in his stride like an elegant female runway model.

Voice: His voice is often strong, clear, deep, and commanding, with the slightest hinge of huskiness. While off-guard, however, his voice cracks into a higher pitched and goofier voice. His quiet tones are very soft and sweet, like a warm fuzzy blanket wrapping you up in it on a cold winter’s night. (Voiceclaim/reference: Johnny Yong Bosch, particularly his roles as Vash from Trigun and Zero from Marvel vs. Capcom.)

Tics or Mannerisms: His speech consists of a shakepearian inspired word usage with a consistent disuse of contractions, similar to Urianger. | He tends to step-dance or become especially physically clumsy while nervous in social situations. | He will elegantly dodge all physical contact, even minor, unless he is comfortable enough with you to make the first contact.

Smell: Gardenia (Jasmine) / Cuttlebone dust

Posture: Constantly straight and erect; shoulders rolled back, chest out. Never looks truly relaxed, even while sitting. A model of good posture.

Disabilities: [SPOILER] Surface numbness on his scar tissue. Mild numbness in his left-hand fingertips.

RELATIONSHIPS ––– –– –

Romantic Partner: (None.)

Parents: Gwenneg Beauregard (Adoptive) (Deceased)

Siblings: Arc Beauregard (Twin Brother) (Alive)

Children: (None.)

Extended Family: (Unknown.)

Pets: Various unnamed wild songbirds and a fledgling Dodo that followed him home. He keeps feeding them, so they keep coming back, but he does not claim ownership of any of them. | He has also developed a relationship with a wild white horse he’s named Marion who consistently comes to his call. | His military-issued chocobo is named Erminia.

Other: Alus considers everyone he meets to be a friend.

PERSONALITY TRAITS ––– –– –

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Addictive / In Between / Nonaddictive

RP HOOKS ––– –– –

Café Nobilitea: Alus is the proprietor of a western-style teahouse with a distinct theme for elegance, royalty, and other-worldliness - His café is bright, full of flowers, and always playing soft kind-hearted piano music; the type of place a person could become lost in whence they’ve become tired of the grueling and dark outer world; a real heaven and haven. He often spends his free time there and enjoys sitting with his customers to get to know them.

Grand Company Militia: Alus is a very active member with the Eorzean grand companies in fighting against the Garlean empire and any other threats to the peace there might be upon the world. It’s very possible your character might have teamed up with him at some point in active duty.

The Prince on a White Horse: Alus patrols random fields often in order to keep the peace. Your character or someone your character knows might have been saved by the mysterious ‘Prince on a white horse’ while being attacked by bandits or beastmen, who oft leaves without giving his name.

A Fellow Warrior Of Light: Alus has helped out the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on occasion due to his status as a Warrior of Light; one of many.

LOOKING FOR ––– –– –

Long-Term ANYTHING!: Friendships, rivalries, casual familiarities, romances, anything. Alus has lived a long life without any PC RP interactions, and I feel his writing suffers for it. I want someone who will be there for the long run and get to know him. I want stories to develop. I want Alus to grow because of other people.

Open-minded villains!: Alus has the patience of a saint and will befriend the nastiest of criminals no matter what. Alus will stop them from directly committing serious crimes he may be there to witness (murder, kidnapping, robbery, etc.), but will ultimately be very forgiving and calm when dealing with these topics. He wants to genuinely make a connection with people he doesn’t understand and strives his best to soften anybody’s heart, no matter how hard. His ultimate goal is to change their ways for the better through patience and understanding.

Platonic flirts!: Alus has a lot of love to give and happy to give it to nearly everyone and anyone. He throws around the words ‘I love you’ quite easily, and if he is especially crushing on someone, he will hold their hands and hug them openly despite his normal dislike of physical touch. He is most happy when he has a large circle of queerplatonic relationships, but will be absolutely exclusive to their ‘steady’ when he has made that romantic commitment.

Distant family members!: Alus knows very little of the Beauregards; his adoptive father and surnamesake did not speak of them much. Alus is fascinated with Elezen culture and considers himself one of them. He would be incredibly happy to find anyone with the same last name who would welcome him to his adopted ancestor’s information.

ADVENTURE!: Once in awhile, let’s RP somewhere other than a unmoving place. Let’s RP in a dungeon. Let’s RP while doing gold saucer chores. Let’s RP while talking to random minor NPCs. Let’s RP while doing something other than just sitting! It can help a lot with improvisation and keep the creative juices flowing.

ABOUT THE MUN ––– –– –

Who I am: Hey, my name’s Will. I’m a 24 y/o prep cook living in Alaska. My family’s straight-up wiccan, I got 3 black cats, I love super flashy ridiculous fashion, 1980s comedies, and my favorite game’s Bayonetta. I’m a queer Aquarius with mild ADHD. Buddhism and pacifism are super important to me. I love the McElroys?? and uh. I yell in caps a lot. i WILL make you a playlist of music if you ask for recommendations, don’t fuckin tempt me. I’m a casual goofus fuck. here’s my ‘me’ tag on my personal,

Server: Balmung, Crystal Data Center

Time Zone: Alaska (GMT-8)

Availability: 11AM-2AM (subject to change)

Writing Style: Rapidfire! 95WPM. I like to RP just like I type normally - as thoughts pop up, I type ‘em, just like if I was talking. I’m not a big fan of waiting for turns; I have an anxiety disorder and that particularly makes me extremely anxious! However, I am happy to do short paragraph RP with you if we’ve been RPing long enough. Huge paragraph RP is 100% OK on Discord!

Platforms: In-game(preferred) or Discord.

Restrictions ––– –– –

No ERP!

No Permadeath! I really do not want to RP with anyone who intends to eventually kill off their character, either. This is a legitimate trigger for me.

RP Fighting...? I’ve never done this before. I’m not a fan of physical injury so it’s unlikely I would want to, either. But if the situation really calls for it, I’m open to learning. I will not allow you to permanently disfigure or disable my character - temporary injury is alright, but please talk to me about it first.

Mature Themes...? This is okay for me. Swearing, murder, prostitution, drugs.. I’m an adult! I don’t mind these themes being mentioned or being used as a backdrop to a prompt. Alus isn’t a fan of these things though! So just keep that in mind.

Sexual Assault...? For the most part, NO. However, a forceful kiss? An inappropriate touching that stops as soon as my character says no? Maybe. Ask me beforehand and be clear about what you’re thinking, no surprises.

More Info ––– –– –

Click here for Alus’ RP blog and all the memes and asks I’ve written for him!

tags;

@ffxiv-crystal-rp @crystalxivrp @mooglemeet​

[uas-art]

Title: The Pandering Country Western Star

Summary: Craig is a closeted country star. Tweek is an internet famous singer who's been out since middle school. when Craig’s ex outs him to a magazine, can Tweek be of any help to Craig in his time of need?

Ships: Creek, Revin, mentioned Stendy, past Cramos

Rating: T

Other: This was a cathartic story to deal with my coworkers being assholes :)

~~~~~~~~

Craig tipped back his head, downing the last of his drink.

Stan raised an eyebrow at him. "So, it's been fifteen minutes. Are you finally going to tell me what happened?"

Craig signaled the bartender for another Coke. He wanted to get absolutely wasted and completely forget the betrayal, but he couldn't risk that he might do something that would drag his reputation down worse than it already would be next week.

"Thomas." Craig fished out a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the bartender. "Just keep bringing whatever drinks you have cold and around until that runs out." He instructed the bartender, who then looked at her regular, Stan.

Stan just shrugged. "What's left over can pay off my tab, I guess."

She nodded and left the men to their own devices.

Stan sipped his Sprite. "What about Thomas? You two break up?"

Craig stirred the ice in his glass. "We are now." He groaned, shoulders slumping forward. "Stan, my career is over. He told a magazine."

Stan choked on his drink. He beat his chest and earned a look from the bartender. He waved her concerns off with his hand.

"'Told'? 'Told' like..." Stan lowered his voice, "like he told a magazine you're gay?"

Craig nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Not just any magazine. Fucking 'Country And Western Life' —the biggest country music magazine. I am boned."

Stan made a sound of understanding, reaching out to pat Craig's back. Stan was in the unique position of having some empathy for Craig's situation. His music career was ruined by gossipy journalism digging too deep into his personal life as well, though, Stan's career hadn't nearly made it as big as Craig's.

His band had one single make it to number one on the top forty charts, and that was mainly because it was in a low budget action spoof that was an unexpected box office success.

Craig had one song make it to number two, and three others make it into the top ten on the country charts. A collaboration he did with another, older star, made it to number one and held the spot for nearly three weeks.

Stan's fall from grace was not nearly as big of a crash and burn as Craig's would be.

"I don't understand why he'd do this." Craig shook his head. "I thought we had something special. Fucking wrong there, I guess."

"What did your manager say?" Stan asked.

Craig raised a shoulder in a shrug. "Red said she'd leave it up to me. I could deny it, but since I don't know what Thomas brought to 'Country And Western Life', I might end up making myself look like a fool. Or I could just come out myself before it publishes and take the thunder from them, but then..." He shuddered.

"You'd have to deal with a legion of homophobic ex-fans throwing Bible verses at you and saying you're doing it to pander to gay people and trying to be some SJW?" Stan finished.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose my fan base."

"Well, I can tell you from experience, stepping out of the limelight and settling into a nice domestic life isn't terrible." Stan unlocked his phone and began to turn it towards Craig, but he raised his hand to stop him.

"I don't want to see pictures of your partner and kids." Craig rolled his eyes.

Stan huffed in offence but put his phone in his pocket. "Honestly, Craig? I think you're worrying too much. It's twenty-nineteen. Not as many people as you're expecting will care that your gay. A vocal few, sure, but even if some people are against queer people, they'll ignore it for the sake of your music and work. It'll only be a big deal if you make it one."

He raised his glass slightly. "Or that's what happened when Wendyl and I came out. We still have to block some assholes who spam our accounts sometimes, but once the first 'outrage' died down, we actually got more fans. I don't know if I'm good representation for people, but I think Wendyl is, at least." He smiled fondly at the thought of his partner.

Even though he made a snort at Stan, he was glad that they were happy together. When they were just college roommates, Craig was sure he and Wendyl wouldn't actually make it past the first few dates. Somehow they did though.

That was more than Craig could say about his relationship. He honestly thought Thomas might be the one. He'd occasionally even brought up the idea of a secret wedding, usually as a joke, to test the waters. Thomas never answered him seriously, but he never said he would be against it. The tabloids would have a field day if he started wearing a wedding ring.

Not that that mattered anymore...

Craig set his straw down to drink the coke from the glass. He let a chunk of ice fall into his mouth and crunched down hard on it.

"The difference between you and Wendyl and me is you and Wendyl were retired from your music days. No one talks about 'Moop' anymore. 'Craig Tucker' is a household name," Craig pointed out. "You weren't making hard rock for the radio. You two are activists for animals. One of those lends itself well to a non-binary person and their bisexual husband — and it's not the first one."

Stan rolled his eyes. "That sounded like an insult, but you're feeling like shit so I'll let it slide." He sucked a breath through his teeth. "Craig, dude, I really wish I could help you out here, but...I don't know. I don't think your career is over. You're overreacting. You can still make money as a country star. It'll be rough as hell these next few months, but if you just keep on keeping on, it'll be fine. Show everyone you accept yourself for you and don't care what anyone else thinks."

"Besides, " He rolled his wrist as he spoke, "someone will do something else, have an affair, use a slur in an interview, die, and everyone will move on. It's the music industry. They have the attention span of a gnat."

Craig grunted, burying his face in his arms. Why did he think Stan would actually be able to help him? A country star being gay was a totally different ballpark than a rock star going on a drunken stupor in his underwear through New York.

"So you vote for going out on Twitter and telling everyone myself then? Is that what I'm hearing?" Craig asked as he peeked up to stare past Stan towards the stage.

The folk band finished their set and bowed to the applauding crowd. From the little bits Craig had paid attention too, the folk band wasn't that bad, but the violinist and guitarist needed to work on their harmonies together. They clashed more often than not, fighting each other for the melody with their  volume and drowning out the other members.

Stan shrugged. "I guess. At least it's from your mouth and not your ex's."

A single singer with a guitar came on stage now. He was handsome: soft blond hair, round face, a little chubby. Half of him screamed 'country singer', the other half...didn't. He had on a green-gray striped western shirt, brown vest, and a worn cowboy hat above the hips. On the other hand, below the hips, he had on beat up, dirty Converse sneakers and washed out skinny jeans with intentional holes in the knees.

Craig sat up a little to stare at the singer. He whistled quietly.

"Guess if everyone is going to know, it doesn't matter if I stare, does it? Damn." Craig nodded to himself. "He's a mess, but...damn."

Stan followed his gaze to the stage as the singer introduced himself as 'Tweek'. He didn't have the accent Craig was used to hearing from country singers.

"Oh, him? He's a nice guy, actually. Little too anxious, but ok voice nonetheless," Stan told him. "He must want to do country covers tonight. Usually, he wears a normal button up, but not when he sings Conway Twitty and Johnny Cash."

"He ever covered any of my songs?" Craig questioned.

"Yes and no," Stan smirked, "he rarely does any modern country songs. Not unless he really likes them, but I've heard him sing 'You Never Even Called Me By My Name' before."

Craig mock punched Stan in the arm, making him spill part of his Sprite. Stan glared at him before reaching for a napkin to mop up the mess.

Tweek nodded to a man sitting next to the stage to hit play on a recording. The opening piano began as he strummed, tapping his foot. He took a breath and began to sing.

"The bar was empty. I was sweeping up the floor."

Even hearing only the first line, Craig could tell this man had none of the twang that gave the song some of its charm. His voice also didn't go quite as low as Brad Paisley's did naturally, either. He was about to mention this to Stan when Tweek sang the next line, and Craig froze.

"That's when he walked in. I said, 'I'm sorry but we're closed."

"He changed the pronouns," Craig muttered to himself. Stan smirked again at him before shushing Craig with a finger to his lips.

After that, Craig listened more closely. All throughout the entirety of 'We Danced', Tweek kept changing the pronouns from 'she' to 'he'. He even, albeit somewhat clumsily, changed a few other words and phrases as well ('purse' to 'wallet' and 'diamond ring' to 'golden band') confirming that he was singing this song about a man.

"He's not bad," Stan leaned back to speak, "don't you think?"

"Yeah, I mean," Craig shook himself, but it didn't do as much as he hoped, "it's ok. He's ok. He's singing a bit lower than I think he can comfortably do, but he holds the notes nicely and...yeah. He's ok."

Stan chuckled, giving Craig a knowing smile that Craig ignored, instead focusing on Tweek. The crowd clapped when Tweek finished his song before he started up another. Through his entire set, he changed the songs the same way.

After Tweek finished his last cover of 'As She's Walking Away'--'As He's Walking Away'? Craig wasn't sure--he thanked the audience, "Um, thank you, everyone. Have a good night and be safe getting home. Call a cab if you need it." He waved and headed off the stage.

Craig started to get out of his chair before he could help himself. Stan put a hand on his stomach.

"Do you want to meet him?" Stan asked, his eyes glittering.

"W-what?" Craig blinked. He straightened up and quickly took his seat. He sat in the corner of the bar to avoid being identified for a reason.

"Do you want to meet him?" He repeated. "I know Tweek. I can introduce you if you'd like."

Craig narrowed his eyes. "Was this planned, Marsh? Did Red set this up?"

"Happy accident." Stan laughed, jumping from his seat. "Come on, Tweek usually cools down after being on stage out back with his friend, manager, person, Jimmy."

Craig raised an eyebrow but stood anyway to follow Stan out.

~~~~

Tweek and another man sat on the tailgate of a pickup truck that needed a new paint job, new tires, and a new passenger side window. Tweek raised a beer to whatever his friend said with a grin.

"Hey! Tweek, Jimmy! Hey!" Stan waved his arm. "Good show, Tweek."

"Thanks, but it wasn't that good." Tweek took a sip of his beer. "It went ok. I think I sped up a few songs and choruses. Not that that's fully my fault. I was going to sing a different set, but Jimmy brought the wrong CD." He sent a glare at Jimmy, who looked away embarrassed.

"I think it went over w-w-w-well," Jimmy told him matter-of-factly. "Besides, you don’t have 'The M-M-Miss-Missip...' The Squirrel Church Song down yet anyway."

"'Squirrel Church Song'?" Craig stepped around Stan and the two on the tailgate took notice of him for the first time. "You don't mean that Ray Stevens' song, do you?"

Tweek nodded, looking him over as he tried to figure out where he'd seen Craig before.

"Yeah, The Mississippi Squirrel Revival.'" Snapping his fingers to the beat, he sang, "The day the squirrel went berserk in the First Self-Righteous Church--"

"In that sleepy little town of Pascagoula," Craig joined in. Jimmy's eyes grew wide as he made the connection between Craig's voice and his face. His mouth fell open.

With shared grins, the two singers finished the chorus, "It was a fight for survival, that broke out in revival! They were jumpin' pews and shouting 'Hallelujah'!"

Jimmy put his hand on Tweek's arm. "Tweek, that--"

"I know, Jimmy, I know." Tweek rolled his eyes. "I don't have the voice for anything too gospel. Let me have my fun, dude. I'm not on stage."

"No, Tweek, do you know who this is?" He jabbed a finger at Craig. "That C-Cr-Cra-Craig Fucking Tucker!"

Tweek let out a strangled 'WHAT?!' and dropped his beer can. Stan frowned and leaned down, making sure to set it beside Tweek. If Tweek hadn't started yammering on, Stan would have told them to recycle the can when they were done.

"I sang a fucking comedy song with a music star?" Tweek gasped. "Fuck! A professional musician heard me sing on stage? When I was singing a set I hadn’t really practiced!?" His eyes went wide and he stared down at the holes in his knees then groaned, slumping down. " While wearing skinny jeans and a cowboy shirt...!"

Jimmy laughed nervously, waving his hands in front of Tweek.

"He's usually much better than this. It's the beer. I swear." Jimmy forced a smile that Craig could tell was fake. It was the same one Red used when she had to give an answer to a bullshit question to save face.

Stan set a hand on Tweek's shoulder. "Sorry. Should have texted you first before bringing him out, but Craig really enjoyed your show. He wanted to meet you."

"'Meet me'?" Tweek squeaked. "Why?"

Craig shrugged. "Just because." He gestured. "Can I take a seat? Do you mind?"

Jimmy lifted himself up and moved over, exposing a pair of crutches behind him in the bed that Craig hadn't noticed before. Craig sat between them, leaving Stan to use the wheel to hoist himself up and sit in the bed. He accidentally kicked the crutches when he spread his legs out.

"Hey, watch it!" Jimmy scolded. "T-those are new, thank you very much."

"Sorry, Jimmy."

Tweek made a high pitched noise then coughed into his hand. "So, what's a big star like you doing in a bar like this?"

"Is that a pick up line?" Stan asked coyly, making Tweek picked up the empty can and mockingly toss it at him. It missed by a mile and bounced against the metal bed with a clang.

"Stan was a big star before he was an everyday, boring family man." Craig smirked at the glare Stan gave him. "We're friends. I wanted to visit him for the night while I was around."

"Oh, right, Moop. I forget someti..." Tweek trailed off when he realized just how offensive his comment sounded. "Well, that's nice of you to stay in touch with your friend."

"Don't know if I'd go as far as 'friend'..." Stan grumbled, taking out his phone.

They chatted for the next hour or so and Craig learned a lot about Tweek and Jimmy. Jimmy hosted an internet show where he brought what he believed to be up and coming talent on to showcase their skills. Tweek, being his good friend, was the first guest he brought on (or, as Tweek put it 'tricked into a recorded video chat').

Tweek himself had his own channel where he posted covers of whatever song caught his fancy. Just a quick, discrete skim of the YouTube channel confirmed it to Craig. Tweek really did post a little of everything: country, classical, Broadway musicals, folk, rock.

Craig wondered if he was still trying to find his niche or not, and Tweek replied with a shrug.

"My therapist told me to do what makes me happy, and different types of music make me happy," Tweek explained.

"You know what would make me happy? A drink." Jimmy twisted around for his crutches. "Anyone else?"

"I'm good." Tweek shook his head.

Stan opened his mouth to decline when Craig tapped his leg. He flicked his eyes towards Tweek then moved his head a little.

Stan understood, thankfully, and stood up in the bed.

"Craig put tetwenty n on my tab, so I'm getting another Sprite. All drinks are on me whether you want a can or not." He leaped over the side and landed with a stumble on the ground. Quickly correcting himself, he dusted off his pants as if he hadn't nearly landed on his nose.

Tweak looked from Craig than to Jimmy and Stan as they walked away. He chewed his lip and began to stand, calling to wait for him, when Craig cleared his throat.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Craig said quickly, trapping Tweek in a social protocol net.

Tweek twiddled his thumbs together. "Sure. I guess."

"When you sang, you changed the songs. They sounded like you were singing to a man." Craig rested his chin in his palm. "Why is that?"

Tweek's face twisted into an angry, sour expression.

"Because I'm gay and I don't want to sing about girls. I want to sing about men." Tweek's voice came out low and warning. "I'm not making money off my covers or hurting people. It's fine."

Craig recoiled with a frown. "I never said it wasn't."

Tweek eyed his expression a second then frowned himself.

"Sorry. Most of the time when someone asks me that, it's directly followed by how ‘I should be ashamed of myself'." He rolled his eyes.

"Ashamed? For being gay? That's bullshit. It's nothing to be ashamed about." He sounded like a hypocritical anti-bullying program. Realizing this, he quickly added, "or should you be ashamed for singing country without a twang?" He saturated his voice with a deep southern accent on the last word, earning a smile from Tweek.

"Both, actually." Tweek snickered. "I've made some people pretty upset that I can't sing in an accent I don't have. People really like to give me shit for things I can't help."

Craig chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. Red was calling him.

"Oh, um, one minute, " Craig held up his finger, "and I'll be right back."

He took a few steps away from the truck before answering.

"Yes, cousin dearest?" Craig answered in a deadpan. "Any more news about my toppled career?"

"Depends. Have you decided what you're going to do?" Red asked from the other end of the line. "Are you going to see how the article turns out or are you going to out yourself?"

Craig hummed a minute. Red said the chance that they wouldn't run the article without the part where Thomas outed him was slim to none. That was too good of information for them to just sit on and never profit from.

"I think I'll tell my fans myself." Craig turned over his shoulder to look at the truck. Stan and Jimmy returned with cans in hand. Jimmy tossed one to Tweek, but he missed and it went under the truck.

"The magazine hits the shelves next week. If you're going to do it, you'll need to do it soon," Red advised. "Livestream, maybe. Or a series of heartfelt tweets. Make sure you mention something about God making you gay. That'll work in your favor."

Craig nodded, realized Red couldn't see him, then replied, "Got it."

"I'll start calling around. There will be plenty of news outlets who want to get the inside scoop on this. Tell me when you're planning on posting it. We need you to look in as best of a light as possible. See you, cuz."

She hung up before he could reply.

When he returned to the truck, Stan's legs stuck out from under it as he searched for the missing can. Tweek crouched beside him, holding his phone light out as Jimmy sipped his beer.

"I could just p-p-p-pull the truck forward, you know," Jimmy offered.

"No, I've nearly got it." Stan wriggled forward. "Ah-ha!" There was a thudding, then a dented can bounced out from under the truck. Tweek tried to grab it, only to fall forward into the dirt.

Craig stooped down and plucked the can up. He winced and held it away from himself. Opening the beer would shower everyone around after all the shaking it had endured. He wasn’t risking it.

Stan's head popped up, dusty and a mess, before he hauled himself up onto the tailgate. Craig handed the beer to Jimmy, who, thankfully, had enough sense not to open it.

"Stan, I need to go." Craig shook his phone for emphasis. "Red has a game plan for...what's going to happen."

"Oh, does she?" Stan patted his hair out. "I'd offer to take you to get Wendyl's help if you want it, but I'm driving these knuckleheads home."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "We're fine. Tweek is sober as a saint."

"He had a beer when we walked out," Stan countered.

"He spilled half of it."

"Half a beer is still a beer!" Stan snapped. "You're not drunk driving on my watch."

Craig stepped forward. "I'll drive Tweek home if he wants."

Only after the suggestion left his mouth did he realize how strange that must have sounded. Craig barely knew Tweek from Adam. What reason did he have to offer to help Tweek when he already said he had something else to do?

Tweek took a step back. "I rode with Jimmy here. I can squeeze in or I'll sit in the bed. It's fine. Thank you though."

"No, really, let me take you home. I'm a good driver, I swear."

"No, I'll ride with Stan. He knows the way there already."

"Please?"

Jimmy narrowed his eyes. "He said no, dude. Let it d-drop."

Craig swallowed nervously. "Ok, I guess I have to get used to saying this but listen..."

It was hard to breathe suddenly. His face felt hot. His hands were sweating.

"Yes?" Tweek frowned.

"Listen, I, uh, I..." He hissed a breath out. "My ex-boyfriend outed me to a very popular magazine that is going to out me to the public in a week. My manager suggested I steal some of the magazine's thunder by coming out as gay myself. I would like someone with a little more expertise in this subject than I have to offer suggestions on how I should go about doing this bullshit."

Tweek's mouth hung open, as did Jimmy's. Stan picked up his Sprite can and took a long drink.

"Breathe, Craig. Don't pass out, now. You'll get used to saying it after a little while." He raised his Sprite to him. "Be brave, brother."

Craig ignored him, but did take a deep breath and force his lungs to expand.

"Well? If you don't want to, it doesn't matter that much." Craig tensed despite himself.

Tweek chewed his lower lip. "I, um, do you want my number? I have work tomorrow, so I do need to get home and sleep tonight. We can talk after work, if you want?"

Craig relaxed. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, man."

Stan snorted to himself and shook his head at his drink. Craig resisted the urge to flip him off again as he pulled up a new contact. He and Tweek then exchanged phones.

For a brief moment, Craig wanted to add a heart to the end of his name as the contact, but he shook off the thought as silly and inappropriate. He wasn't going to rebound with a random guy at a bar to get back at Thomas. At least, not until he read the article or got a call back.

Though Red told him not to get his hopes up, he still held onto the dream that Thomas hadn't betrayed him and they could work through this together.

Handing Tweek back his phone, Craig pocketed his.

"I do need to go, too, actually." He said with a thumb jab over his shoulder. "I'll text you tomorrow?"

Tweek nodded but didn't speak. He stared at Craig for a second too long before averting his eyes.

Craig smiled to himself and turned to leave, suddenly feeling a little better about his future.

~~~~

Tweek panicked, pacing circles around his living room.

Stan planned this. That fucker had to. Him or Wendyl. Both of them encouraged him to "settle down" every other time they saw him, and last night Stan just so happens to introduce him to an available, handsome, music star who wants Tweek's advice?

There was no way that was all coincidence!

Tweek fretted about this meeting all day, ever since Craig texted him that morning asking when he could come by.

Why did he agree to this? Tweek had been out since he was a teenager! He hadn't had to hide that he was gay from anyone since becoming semi internet famous.

Jimmy featured him in his LGBTQ creators to follow video last June for fuck's sake! Tweek wasn't able to help Craig with this!

Someone knocked, tearing Tweek from his thoughts.

Vowing that the next time he went to visit Stan, he would slip Stan's children an excessive amount of sugary treats, Tweek dragged his feet to the door.

Craig looked the epitome of a modern country star: striped button up with the first three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, jeans from a brand that Tweek knew he could never afford, a wooden cross hanging from a leather cord around his neck, and even a cowboy hat.

He had deep bags under his hazel eyes, which Tweek refused to look at for too long. He didn't want to risk being caught admiring the flecks of gold-brown in his iris.

"Hey," Tweek stepped aside and allowed him in, "Craig. How are you?"

"Tired." Craig rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. "My cousin woke me at five in the morning to talk about ideas for telling my fans I'm gay." He reached into his chest pocket to produce a folded sheet of lined paper. "Here's what we got."

Tweek took it but didn't open it. With a wave of his hand, he led Craig through his kitchen. Kiwi, Tweek's bird, raised his head from cleaning his feathers. He twittered at Tweek, walking across the table towards him. Tweek took the bird in his hand. He stroked his feathers as he returned him to his cage in the living room.

"Take a seat," Tweek said before he whistled at Kiwi. Kiwi chirped back then fluttered to sit on a high perch and preen himself in a mirror.

Craig slid onto the couch while Tweek went to his desk chair on the other side of the coffee table.

"Is that bird yours?" Craig eyed Kiwi.

"Yeah. That's Kiwi. My grandma couldn't keep her parrot when she moved, so my parents said I would take her. So I got her budgie, but budgies do better in pairs, so I bought Kiwi to go with my grandma's parrot--oh, her name was Apples. Get it? Apple and Kiwi? She was more yellow than Kiwi is, but," Tweek realized he was babbling and quickly finished his ramble, "Apples passed away last month, so it's just Kiwi now. I'm getting another budgie in a month or two, though. Do you have a pet?"

Craig perked up, some of his tiredness fading. He took his wallet from his pocket. Like a proud father, he flipped it open to reveal a picture of three guinea pigs: a long-haired brown one, a cream colored one with a stripe, and a black and white one.

"This is Petunia," He pointed to the long-haired one. "This is Astro." He moved his finger to the black and white one, "And finally Stripe the Sixth." He tapped the cream colored one.

"‘Sixth'?" Tweek echoed. "What happened to one through five?"

Craig closed his wallet. "Got into the Easter basket, Mom stepped on him, my friend's dog, old age, and old age," he counted off. "I've been keeping them as pets since I was five."

"Anything else?" Tweek sat, setting the paper Craig gave him on the table top.

"What, do you want me to name off pet names for forty head of cattle or a horse?" Craig chuckled and Tweek turned his full attention to his feet. "It's fine, Tweek. I don't own hooved animals."

"Oh, really?" Tweek swallowed. They should change the topic before Tweek made himself look like a complete fool. "We should get started now."

"Sure, if you're ready." Craig pointed to the paper. "Like I said, we spent all morning on it, but you should look over it and make sure we didn't leave anything out."

Tweek didn't touch the paper. "Do the people close to you know? Your parents? Siblings? Best friends?"

Craig blinked in surprise. "Y-yeah? Of course. I told my sister and friends in high school, and I told my parents in college. They know. Why does that matter?"

"Would you want to find out someone you thought trusted you didn't trust you enough to tell you something like they're gay?"

Craig thought on that a moment. "I guess not," He said.

Contented, Tweek finally unfolded the paper. Craig leaned closer, pushing his hat back a little, as he watched Tweek read.

The paper was...something. Tweek couldn't decide what. At times it really did feel heartfelt, but, at times, it also sounded like a celebrity's forced apology.

After reading it once, Tweek stood up and went to his desk. He returned a moment later with a pad of paper and a pencil. As Craig watched him with his eyebrows raised, Tweek organized the parts by level of sincerity.

When he finished, he spun the pad towards Craig and tapped the column with the least sincere sounding parts.

"Can you cut these?"

Craig furrowed his brow as he looked over the lines.

"But, those are important." Craig shook his head. "If I don't mention I'm sorry for hiding it from my fans, they'll get upset and feel betrayed."

"Are you sorry?"

"Yes," Craig replied automatically, robotically. Tweek fixed him with a probing look.

"They're not the ones hiding part of their lives. Their lives aren’t being judged for nothing. You don't owe them an apology," Tweek smiled softly at Craig. "Actually, a lot of these lines here are about your fans. I think only this one about working to make a better future and honest music with them sounds genuine."

Craig pursed his lips. He took a breath and blew it out. The breath whistled through his teeth.

"Why does it have to sound genuine?"

"Because if not, it sounds pandering." Tweek quipped, ripping the organized lines from the pad. As he began to rewrite the speech from scratch, Craig took off his hat and looked down into it with a serious expression on his face.

When he finished, Tweek pushed the pad over. "What do you think of that?"

Craig placed his hat back on, then skimmed the speech. He furrowed his brows and looked up.

"This is good. Really good."

Tweek shrugged, trying to hide the pride he felt.

"Is this how you came out? Did you say these things?" Craig wanted to know, taking a picture of the new script with his phone.

Tweek shook his head. "No. I just blurted it out during dinner one night. Mom and Dad were talking about road work messing their morning drive up and I just shouted ‘I'm gay!' when my dad took a breath. I wanted to tell them for a while, but I could never find the right time." A chuckle and he went on, "Mom said she always kind of knew. Dad said ‘that's nice.' They went right back on talking about the road work."

Craig snorted a laugh. "Really? Your parents sound very chill about it." A sigh. "I hope my fans will be, too."

Tweek reached over and put a hand on Craig's shoulder. "I'm sure they will be. If not, it's not your problem they're homophobes." He squeezed. "Things are really different from a decade ago. Not nearly as many people as you expect will give you flack for kissing boys."

Craig looked up at Tweek's smiling face and returned the expression. He set his hat beside him and pointed towards Kiwi's cage.

"Do you think I could get a better look at your bird? I need a break from all this already, and I do like small animals."

Tweek nodded and promptly jumped to his feet to retrieve Kiwi.

~~~~

Petunia napped on Craig's stomach while Stripe the Sixth munched on hey beside his head. Astro settled himself against Craig's ankle for a snooze.

Red looked over her cousin with a sigh. Her husband, Kevin, tried to peek around her shoulder. Like Craig, Red was taller than average, so Kevin had to step to the side to get a clear view of Craig on the floor of his pet pen.

"Craig, get up."

"Can't. Babies are sleeping." Craig muttered, keeping his own eyes shut. "Just tell me what you think of Tweek's revisions."

Red glanced at the paper in her hand then back up.

"I liked them," Kevin proclaimed. "They sound more...real than what you two had."

"‘Pandering' to the fans is what Tweek said," Craig smiled to himself, "and he wasn't wrong."

"I still think we should focus more on the ‘God made you gay’ bit. I found some verses we could use." Red tapped against her phone.

"I don't want to read Bible verses, Red." Craig slowly opened his eyes. Careful of Petunia, he picked up Stripe the Sixth and held him over his face. Tapping their noses together, Craig went on, "I actually really like how it is now. Short, to the point. It's perfect for me."

Red sighed through her nose before stepping over the low fence. She sat down next to Craig with her legs crossed before plucking Petunia from his stomach to pet in her lap. Petunia looked around after being woken up, pipped once, then snuggled back down into Red's lap.

"I just don't want this to blow up in your face. You've come so far, Craig. I don't want you remembered as ‘that country singer who came out gay and never broke the top twenty again.'"

Craig set Stripe on his chest, scratching the pig's back. He knew that Red was worried. This industry was quick to blow something small out of proportion, destroy someone's life, then move on like it never happened.

"It'll be fine," Craig reassured.

Kevin stepped into the pen now. He bent down and stroked Astro's back. "If you're honest with everyone, I think people will appreciate that," He said. "People like sincerity."

Craig hummed, slowly sitting up.

"Had me my script. I want to read over it again."

He didn't need to read it over. After leaving Tweek's yesterday, he'd been practicing it repeatedly until he could say it it verbatim without looking.

In truth, he just liked Tweek's handwriting. It was a little shaky, but loopy and fun to follow along with his eyes. Craig wondered if he could convince Tweek to write a song with him after the tenth read over, if just so he could read a little more of his handwriting.

He'd listen to some of Tweek's original songs on his channel the night before. They all had a definite show tune quality to them, but Craig figured they could mix their styles. That would be refreshing, to say the least.

He paused a moment, the smile he let on his face falling, to ask, "Red, have you heard any more from Thomas? He still isn't answering my calls."

Red shook her head. "No, nothing else. I'm sorry."

"No, if he wants to hide, then I don't care," Craig grumbled.

He didn't have much more to tell him anyway. The morning before he went to go see Tweek, he'd left Thomas a voicemail telling him they were over. Even if Thomas did gather up his balls enough to call him back, Craig wasn't sure he'd even answer.

Astro woke up and climbed on Kevin's legs as Kevin asked, "Do you have a date for this? The magazine publishes in less than a week."

"Tomorrow," Red answered before Craig opened his mouth. "This happens tomorrow. A live stream, I think, would be best. Butter them up with your guinea pigs," she held up Petunia, "then break the news."

Sitting up, Craig held Stripe to his chest. "Yeah, I guess that'll work." He stood, stretching his back until it popped. "Come on, Stripe, let's go practice while Aunty Red and Uncle Kevin set up my living room and make everything as down-homey as possible."

Red's head snapped up. "We never agreed to that!"

"Oh no, I can't hear you. I'm out of the room. I'm so far away now," Craig deadpanned, keeping his voice at the same level as he left to go practice.

~~~~~

AN: Chapter 2

[poetjenharris]

The Reasons I Moved to Oregon

Nine Reasons Why….

1.    Weed is legal.

a.    Ghost Train Haze was named the most potent sativa strain in the world. In West Eugene, one could, say, if they so choose, buy a “pre-roll” joint of aforementioned champion strain for $6 at a dispensary that opens at 8 a.m. and shares a parking lot with a perfect espresso shot pulling walk up coffee shop. Perhaps, if we’re speculating, one could then mosey the 3 blocks back home, face to the perfect wind, salty sea air braided with whispers of conifers and evergreens, running one’s fingers along rows of bamboo so tall and wide they make the aspens quake. You can then, hypothetically, sit on your porch in your soft sandals with your hips stretched from the brief jaunt and you could sip your coffee and smoke just an teensy weensy little bit and of ol’ Ghosty and about 15 minutes later, you would perhaps, probably, likely find yourself lunging toward your computer, desperate to write (allegedly).

b.    For me and my mind, body and spirit, there is no antidepressant in existence that takes place of the healing powers of CBD & THC and for perhaps the first time ever, it’s possible to enjoy marijuana for recreational purposes (as one enjoys a cold beer or two) rather than solely as a coping mechanism for last-night anxiety.

2.    The state offers expanded Medicaid a.k.a. health insurance for everyone pretty much no matter what your income. I first experienced healthcare through expanded Medicaid in Denver, and I’ve never received such remarkable treatment in my life. Healthcare is a human right, so I moved somewhere which reflects that value of mine by actively putting that value into practice.

3.    Oregon’s weird. There’s a lot of weird fucking people here. I don’t stick out in the slightest and it’s nice. Eugene in particular is like all the characters in my imagination got together and decided to build their own sort of Roger Rabbit Toontown / Exchange City in my honor and then lured me here under the guise of you only live once.

4.    I get the chance to start fresh in a community. I love getting to know those people whom you’re not quite friends but sort of like, regulars, in one another’s life. The cashier, the budtender, the trash man, that guy on the corner, the barista, that one particular booth at farmer’s market, the venue owner, the community organizers…I like knowing where the obscure spices can be found, and who sells the most beautiful dishware, and which artists are currently underdogs but are going to skyrocket in the next few years, I just know it. I long for a future for more residencies. I have applied for jobs to work with homeless youth so I might meet more likeminded people in ways that help me grow and fulfill my desire to serve those in need.

5.    Look. I haven’t posted pictures because there’s too many people suffering – this is not the time to brag – BUT THE WEATHER IS GOD DAMN PERFECT HERE AND I’LL FIGHT ANYONE WHO DISAGREES. Lol I walk, EVERYWHERE. I work in the park at least 3 days a week, a small cooler, a picnic blanket, there are always more trees than people, the moisture from the river cooling the wind. I’ve not bothered to Google WHY and I can’t remember anything from college or high school Science, but the humidity here isn’t a Midwestern wet blanket. It’s an agent of peace. It keeps the air cool and we are in love and probably gonna get married, me and the wind.

6.    Jaden wanted to be here. She has always dreamed of living in Oregon, in Eugene. She gave up a lot to make this happen. She took a lot of risks. She put a lot of faith and trust in me. After all, I fled to the West Coast (alone) at her age (27) and I was scared shitless basically the entire year I lived in San Francisco but I fucking did it! and if there’s a tour guide you want, it’s the one crazy enough to have taken on the mountain alone a time or two.

Jaden and I, we banded together and made a lot of really intense, intimidating promises to one another and there’s really no way to get out of them. We have to see them through, because my success here is dependent on her success here and vice versa. We can both expand our mutual and individual dreams here. We’ve made investments and commitments and our cats are in love. We read the brochures about training to be whale watchers and how to volunteer with the organization that you call (instead of the cops) to help people who are dealing with substance use or mental health crises. Yeah, you read that right. You don’t have to call the cops here. You can call an organization that knows what they’re doing because they’ve been trained in these fields and people get the actual help they need and the cops can do they’re real and only job, which is to maintain the peace and protect citizens.

ANYWAY… Jaden could go back to school here. So, could I. We could also open a competing thrift store – animal adoption center BECAUSE THERE’S ALREADY ONE HERE AND HOLY FUCK WHAT A GREAT IDEA! I don’t know how we’d give them a run for their money, but I’d be down to figure it out. There’s a lot to see and do here. Everything is green and stimulating and easy on the eyes. There are no laws in West Eugene, just explosions of fruit trees and vines of fresh grapes. There are too many apples here. No one could eat them all if they tried. There are brambles of blackberries in every direction. We steal them by the fistful and eat them on our walks. The sky’s the limit here.

7.    The violence of Kansas City’s streets became too much to bear. I alone witnessed 2 murders and 1 drive by shooting in a month’s time. In Eugene, I’ve barely heard anyone raise their voice.

8.    I always wanted to come back to the West Coast. This time I treated it more like a gift I could give Jaden. We were living so meagerly before that when PUA and grant money rolled in, it became possible to repair or replace nearly everything in our own personal junkyards. And when all the adulting was done, I looked toward the future. I had a feeling that students wouldn’t be returning to campus and housing would be more widely available. I had a feeling we could have a grand adventure camping all the way across the country until we got here. I wanted to challenge myself to do something I’d never really done – enjoy the great outdoors, make the most of this chance to exhale from the 24/7 grind of entrepreneurship. I had a feeling this place in particular would feel like home for me, for her, for us. And it does. And it did. We got the first apartment we looked at, the one that’s like all our apartment dreams come true. AND FOR THE RECORD, can EVERYONE collectively PLEASE stop discouraging other people from moving someplace magical with the phrase, “But it’s so much more expensive to live there.” Please, just shut up! You know what’s expensive? Dying young and slowly of a heart condition because you spent your life stressed out in a place you didn’t like all that much because your job was there or your family was there or it is where you’re from or what the fuck ever. Please, be happy where you are. I do not begrudge anyone their conscious choice. But keeping other people from pursuing their dreams by provoking financial anxiety as an insurmountable obstacle that no one should dare broach – is bullshit. I will ALWAYS be a small-town farm kid who listened to every god damn country song about a girl escaping to California as if it were a promise. I set my watch by that promise. I waited round the sundial rather impatiently for the day I could make a break for it – and I would’ve gone a whole lot sooner if everyone who’d attempted to dampen my dreams with their insecurities and microaggressions, had given me $20. The statistical odds I’ve defied as a poor, queer, woman, a multi-tiered violence survivor, substance abuser… the number of times I should have been dead or incarcerated it a bit too much to think about for too long – but I know the truth. I’m lucky to be alive and if I have figured out how to survive THIS LONG through THIS MUCH, I’m sure I can figure out how to pay a rent increase of $300.

9.    I just wanted a fresh start someplace I could imagine buying a house where wildflowers grew recklessly across the modest landscape and I could raise a child or two who went to school with kids whose families looked just like ours and there would be art and music and dancing, laughter and sunshine and that impossibly cold, vengeful ocean just an hour away so that I might be reminded of my miniscule place in it all when my fragile ego gets my heart broken, as its been prone to do on a regular basis since the dawn of time. It really is a gift, a relief, even, to stand on the edge of something mighty and know that no matter how hard you strive, you will never be as powerful or influential as the ocean and that’s ok, because it’s not another ocean we need; it’s you, it’s me, just as we are.

  © 2020 Poet Jen Harris

[cwdcshows]

Batwoman - S1 E10 - "How Queer is Everything Today"

I'm not usually a fan of recaps at the start of an episode, but after more than a month since the last one, this is a rare instance where the refresher didn't hurt. I swear I don't remember them actually giving "Mouse" a villain name.  Are they really going with "Skin Pirate"?  I mean, aside from the fact that he basically seems to be a callback to "False Face" from the 60s Batman series; "Skin Pirate"..... I don't know... sounds lame for a villain name.  

I had re-watch this train save a couple of times to really process what they're trying to do here; especially since I wasn't looking for a split second and thought there was only one grapple line coming off the bike and they were trying to suggest that the bike was somehow had enough braking power to stop a train in its own right, which obviously shouldn't work.  Then it became clear that she had fired a rear grapple as an anchor that was actually doing most of the work stopping the train - but that the grapple was just hooking to one of the embedded ties on the track.... I know they've had Batman stop runaway trains in different iterations, but he at was at least using the Batmobile - which, first off, why the hell doesn't Kate have access to the Batmobile? But more importantly, while there are some pretty far fetched things that go on in the Arrowverse, the idea that the grappling hook could hook onto one of those ties when there's hardly anything for it to snag is unbelievable; to suggest that it stayed snagged and that it was secure enough and the grappling line was strong enough to withstand the force of stopping a fucking train moving at full speed seems downright ludicrous.  Whatever the grappling line is made of, it seems more like to snap; never mind the absurdly short stopping distance or the force that stopping so suddenly would have on the train or the people on board.  I might be wrong, but it seems like stopping it that way would risk derailing. You might say that that's better than crashing, but arguably neither are very good scenarios. Oh, for fuck sake. So the cable does give out, but only after the train has completely stopped; at which point the tension on the cable should start to slack, shouldn't it?  If it was going to unsnag and whip forward, it should only do that while the train is exerting any forward momentum in excess of the strength of cable and its hold on whatever its anchoring to.  But we saw the train come to a stop, inches from crashing naturally; and presumably the end of the line isn't on a hill that would cause the train to roll forward in lieu of functioning brakes. Augh.... To be honest, I read about the how this episode opened with an incident that lead to Gotham gossiping about Batwoman and this "Chris Evans-esque cop"; and consequently I'm a little spoiled by how this "story" ends.  I'm long over the Vesper Fairchild voice overs, they're obnoxious and unnecessary.  And serious, "Chris Evans vibe"?  More like a young Gary Busey, or a Ken doll who's been granted his wish to be made a "real boy", but maybe that's just me. "A train lost it's brakes and I saved 450 people from smashing into a concrete wall.  And all people care about is Batwoman's sex life." Yeah, people suck. So wait, Kate and Luke go to investigate the train while they're still cops around - with phony credentials, because you know, fuck secret identities - but then while they're on the train, i.e. he active crime scene, there ceases to be any indication that anyone else is around; not even after Kate finds an easy to access box that turns the lights off in the car.... Sure, whatever. And sure, turning off the lights does happen to help them identify what they're looking for - but how the fuck did Kate know that?  How was turning off the light supposed to help them in anyway? Oh, for a second I thought this was a smart villain, who used the device on the train to tap into the devices of the people closest to it upon discovery - which for Batwoman and her version of Alfred could have been a very bad thing.  But instead it just turns out that this is going to be your run of the mill villain computer super-genius who can conveniently hack into all the devices in the city; which may still present a risk of exposure for Kate and Luke, but they're still just two people in a sea of millions and gleaning information that might reveal anything useful about them remains a monumental task. Hmmm....is there really no.... I don't know, lower-tech way of maintain communication between Luke and Kate when she's in field?  I get wanting to avoid a potential hack of the Batcave, but it seems super dangerous to have some means for her to call for support if she needed it.  Surely there'd be something that wasn't "networked". I honestly don't know what to think about Kate's concerns over the whole "Slam Bradley" thing - on the one hand, yeah, representation matter, but on the other hand, fucking super hacker threatening the city.  Maybe wait to worry about the former until addressing the latter?  You can have courage and still prioritize. And not for nothing, but Luke did have a point about misdirect; and Kate even says it herself "their image of me is not me" - I know how this story ends, and it's not the wrong decision, especially because it means breaking down assumptions and being a good role model, but they do kind of gloss over the fact 'their image of me is not me' is kind of the crux of a good secret identity. I don't think there's uniformity for school bell tones these days, now that many schools no longer use actual bells, but are we to believe that there is only one fucking school in all of fucking Gotham that this particular bell could be used at?  Gotham is a huge metropolitan city that is meant to rival New York - or possibly even be New York in the DCU - I looked it up and there are 542 public high schools in New York City.  And that's a number that surprised the fuck out of me, I expected it to be up there, but I never imagined it to be over 500. But that goes to show often these shows tend to downplay the scope and size of these cities, particularly Gotham, that are supposed to be immense, only to be shown as rather a smaller large city.  They did this before in an earlier episode where they made a big deal about an outdoor movie event; as if Gotham were some sort of small, close-knit community and it made no sense. Commercial aside - that moment you get distracted and don't immediately notice that the program went to commercial and all you hear is a woman exclaiming, "that is such a large load" and it takes a second after turning back to the tv to register that it's a Tide commercial... (sigh) So Kate's bright idea was to just literally drop into a fucking high school dance and ask who the hacker is?  And she expected, what, for her to say, "here I am!"? Come on, what the fuck; once again, how the fuck does Kate know that making everything else go dark will help her fucking find anything.  And for that matter, how the fuck does that help her find anything?  If her....whatever....knocked out the power to the lights and devices and everything, why would the hacker's equipment be immune? (sigh)..... Again, I knew how the story thread of Kate wanting to out Batwoman's sexuality would play out; so I knew the decision would be motivated by a closeted teen she would meet, but seriously, it's the hack and that is her reason for cyber-terrorizing the fucking city?  Those are arguably terrible circumstances to live under, but you can't use that to try to justify holding a fucking city hostage or endangering the lives of, according to Kate earlier, 450 people that were on that train.  Whether she actually had control and would have stopped it or not is beside the point; to say nothing of the fact that she escalated to exponentially more serious crimes after that.  And we're supposed to feel sorry for her because she thinks Batwoman was probably popular in high school and "famous" now?   How the fuck did Alice figure out who the hacker was? Wait, did whoever write the first part of this episode just like, stop half-way through and someone else took over without reading what happened earlier in the episode?  Alice attacks the hacker, Kate attacks Alice. Alice knocks Kate out, along with the hacker and tells her that the bat will join them later.  Cut to the next scene and Alice tells her that she's looking for Batwoman, because the other students tagged her in a bunch of photos - but you just fucking saw her?  Why knock her out and go to the shop room, if you just want to have this confrontation with Kate?  And all to get Kate to take off her mask.... What, Kate is actually prominently known in this city of millions?  Why?  I mean, yeah, her cousin is rich and her dad was pretty prominent, but were we given much reason to think that Kate was like, a local celebrity?  And why is a national publication like the Advocate spotlighting Kate, who has been in business for what, a month, maybe two? Oh, yeah, train full of hundreds of people, fuck em'; but it's that she got snippy with Kate Kane that she regrets..... So, Kate's actually a billionaire.  I mean, I'm not necessarily surprised, and it was clear the Kane family was well off, but I honestly don't think they properly established that they were "Bruce Wayne-rich". They're obviously going to walk back this outing by the end of the episode; at this point I don't know why they even bother with these kinds of fake outs. What the fuck kind of cuffs did Kate just shoot from her hands?  And seriously, if it ain't broke, don't fix it; it'd be one thing to develop cuffs that were harder to escape from, but what the fuck would be the point in developing a cuff that saves you like what, a whole fucking second to put them on compared to normal handcuffs? "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss" Fuck you. Oh, and the dumb-ass cop tries to kiss her.... Fuck you more, writers, fuck you to he ends of the earth and back.... So what, did the hacker (I don't care what her name is) only send Alice and Kate specifically the message outing Kate and the rest got the message about the bomb? Wait, they showed that the kids at the dance got a message too; yet they didn't seem to be trying to evacuate in response to a bomb threat until after the cops showed up.... Augh.... they're going to fucking make the hacker her side-kick, aren't they?   Because you know, hijacking a train, threatening live, trying to extort and entire fucking city....childish hi-jinx..... The writing for this episode is atrocious.  Luke walks into the cave talking about Kate achieving cover-girl status and fallout, and it's only because I read about how this storyline plays out and saw the "cover" in question that I know what the fuck he's talking about.  I honestly skipped back to see if I missed them showing the cover for a few second and nope; anyone watching this for the first time without spoilers wouldn't have a clue what's happening in this scene.... So.....what the fuck are they going to try and do here?  For a second I was going to ponder if the Crisis reboot meant that Beth had a twin who became Alice, but then I remembered that Kate and Beth are twins (I think.  Right? Just fraternal, rather than identical.)  And it's still possible that Beth could be retconned as having an identical twin and they're all triplets. According to the preview though, it's not just Kate who's thrown by this other Beth; so that scenario seems less likely.  This would suggest that "Alice" could turn out not to be Beth at all, which has always been a distinctly possibility; especially since everybody was hip to the idea way too easy and early in the season.  But that doesn't explain the casual way that "Beth" strolled into Kate's office, talking about being abroad as if she wasn't supposed to have been missing for the last 14 years (14, right?  It's been a long break since non-Crisis episodes...). This becomes way too much of a cluster fuck to untangle if they try to legitimately make "Beth" out to truly be Beth; especially if Crisis has somehow shifted anything.