#the two ends of dramatic red coded gays

[dark-elf-writes]

My desire to write Dad Vincent vs my desire to write Dad Genesis and FIGHT

[callmelola111]

color me purple ♡ part one

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡

synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics. 

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.3k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some fluff + some angst (for now), marijuana use, pet names (doll, princess, hun), light sexual themes, swearing, mentions of blood (reader gets bloody nose), mentions of age (reader and ellie are both said to be 20 but feel free to change it in ur head lol)

a/n: feeling so summer lately i just had to write this. living vicariously through reader cause like why tf am i not having a summer camp gay awakening. this series is just 3 parts but it is sweet as pie so pls enjoy!!! i love you all dearly ♡~ lola

The blinding sun beamed down on your bare skin. Normally the sweltering heat would bother you more, but the excitement of your first day back at camp was more than enough to distract you from the outlandish temperatures. You barreled down the grassy hill, duffle bag in hand, revealing the large wooden arch that spelled out the words CAMP STILLWATER.

The grounds were bustling with counselors and caretakers preparing for the arrival of campers later that evening. Everyone was dressed in color coded garments that signaled what cabin group they belonged to. You were dressed in red, head of cabin 12. Your sheer, white ringer tee read “Staff” and was hemmed with strips of crimson. To match, a pair of red booty shorts with white stretching down the sides. They were just long enough to cover your plush cheeks until naturally riding up as you walked to reveal the crease where ass meets thigh. To top it off, knee high socks striped with the same exact red. You were fucking adorable.

Nature crunched under your sneakers as you practically skipped down the trail headlining it to your cabin. As you reached the steps a very familiar voice called out your name.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Cabin neighbors, once again. Did ya miss me doll?”

“Ellie fucking Williams, don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been praying all week that I wouldn’t get stuck with your dumbass again. But, here we are.” You rolled your eyes in a dramatic fashion putting an emphasis on your obvious sarcasm. This would be your 3rd summer bunking next door to your biggest rival Ellie Williams.

Although you and Ellie weren’t truly enemies, she did get on your nerves, and you got on hers. This fed into a mutual sarcastic bit that you guys have continued to carry out for years. You’d think by 20 years old the two of you would’ve grown out of these childish antics, but it was secretly one of your favorite parts of the summer. 

Ellie gave a half-assed chuckle, “you can never escape me.”

“Oh yes I can!” You whipped your head around, excusing yourself from the conversation and climbed up the weathered steps of your cabin. Ellie gawked as she watched you depart, your thighs giggling with each step. Her piercing green eyes always found their way to your body, but only when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

You entered the barren room and didn't even take the time to unpack before you started adorning the walls with themed decor and tying red ribbons in your hair. Cabin 12 always thrived with spirit when you were there. You took your role as camp counselor seriously and took the competitiveness even more seriously.

Camp Stillwater ran on a point system, and at the end of the summer the cabin with the most wins a trophy. The girls from your cabin were always finishing first in the tournament games, but when they didn’t, it was Ellie’s stupid blue campers who were swooping in to steal the victory. It drove you crazy. Last summer you came second to her and you were determined to never let it happen again. You began speaking to the empty room as if trying to somehow manifest these dreams into reality.

“This year cabin 12 will finish the summer with the most points.”

“Talking to yourself again?” You jumped at the sound of Ellie, not noticing that she had been lurking in the doorway. She was only there for a moment, but didn’t feel like announcing herself, too busy enjoying you running around like an excited puppy, spouting off about victory. Ellie had always admired your high spirits and go-getter attitude. A ray of light emitted from you constantly and she loved to bask in its glory. But, of course, she’d never let it be known.

“God Ellie you can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry princess but the warden wants everyone at the mess hall like now. Come on slacker!” You noticed the change of clothes on Ellie, she was now adorned in a T-shirt just like yours but with blue details rather than red. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy half-up, half-down, she always wore it like that when it started getting hot.

“Shut up, I'm not a slacker!! I’m just busy going above and beyond for my campers.” you argued, a pout forming on your lips. Ellie always knew how to press your buttons.

“You really wanna win this year huh?” She moved into your space, tilting her head with a cocky smirk. 

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“And you really think I’m gonna let that happen?” she teased.

“You’re so annoying Ellie. You can do whatever you want, but I will be winning” You jutted your head forward dramatically in an attempt at intimidation. Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Right… let’s just get going before we’re late and they don’t let you counsel at all” Ellie grabbed your hand and pulled, urging you to follow. Feeling her warm, calloused hand in yours, you almost didn’t want to let go. But, you did.

The mess hall was lined with strings of wooden picnic tables, all connecting to create a sense of community when it was filled with campers. Flags cascaded the walls, each a different color with a number, representing the teams. A large case expanded across the back wall, filled with trophies from years before. The corners of your mouth upturned with anticipation of the summer to come. Your thoughts were soon interrupted by an amplified voice booming from a megaphone. Holding said megaphone was the warden, Mrs. Campbell.

“Alright ladies! Tonight is the night! You all know what to do so go ahead and file out to find your campers!!” You and Ellie exited out the back of the building, heading to the camp entrance. A swarm of girls’ chatting and screams grew louder as staff united with them. One of your favorite parts about Camp Stillwater was the lack of boys. You felt safe, and you loved the idea of getting to empower all these young impressionable women.

You held up a sign signaling your cabin number and a single file line began forming in front of you. You handed each of your girls red ribbons (matching the ones in your own hair) as a personal touch, trying to foster a bond right from the start. Meanwhile, Ellie stood around for her campers dapping them up, giving off the perfect “chill counselor” vibe. You found the lack of discipline a little obnoxious but to each their own. 

That night Stillwater kicked off camp with a bonfire complete with goodies for smores. You sat, knees together on the rough log, feeling as it left imprints of the bark on your bare thighs. Ellie sat just one log over goofing off with some other staff members, shooting an occasional glance at you.

The plastic bag of graham crackers crinkled as you ripped it open to begin assembling your late night snack. The hot air had turned cool with the lack of sun, but the preceding heat lingered in the melted chocolate you attempted to pass out. You stared as the sticky mallow and sweet liquid coco coated your fingers, inviting golden crumbs to join in. Ellie observed you deciding how to handle the mess, and with just a few seconds of thought, watched you stick your sugary soaked fingers straight in your mouth. A surge of guilt hit Ellie, noticing how much your licking troubled her. She clenched her thighs together and decided sweets just weren't for her.

With your hunger satisfied, the bonfire burned bright and you droned off getting lost in the flicker of the flames. Just then, you see a familiar Ellie in your peripherals wandering to the woods. Curious, you peeled your sticky legs from where you sat and got up to follow. You trailed behind her struggling to conceal your presence due to the snapping twigs under your feet. Ellie snaked her body back to acknowledge you and your obviousness. She loved to tease.

“Stalker much?” 

“God, you wish I was stalking you, Williams.” 

“So why are you following me then? Trying to catch me breakin’ the rules?” she questioned, half joking, half not. Continuing your follow, the two of you reached a more secluded part of the forest and Ellie halted.

“If you don’t want me to catch you, then maybe you should stop breaking rules. Ever think of that?” you taunted.

“Whatever Nancy Drew.” And with that, Ellie reached into her pocket pulling out a freshly rolled joint.

“You gonna bust me?” she teased before you quickly slapped the drugs out of her hands and into the moist dirt below.

“ELLIE!!!” you scolded her like she was a camper.

“Hey what the hell dude?!” she reached down to retrieve the now dirty joint and began to light it. A panicked look washed over your face and your eyes darted around, surveying for any possible company. God forbid you let this girl get you in trouble.

“I should be saying what the hell to you! Smoking on the job? So much for setting a good example… God, Ellie!” You palmed your face not sure how to proceed. In spite of your make believe beef, Ellie was your friend and you didn’t want to tattle. On the other hand though, the goodie two shoes and competitive freak inside wanted so badly to expose Ellie's naughty behavior. With her out of the picture, you could finish this summer out with a win. But, if you were being honest with yourself, camp wouldn’t be the same without her.

“Sorry, sorry. I know” Ellie shook her head at the ground pretending to be ashamed but she couldn’t have cared less. She knew you’d never tell, so on she went with her scheming.

“You wanna hit though?” 

“Ellie!!” This time you gave a blow to her exposed bicep, really trying to lay the guilt on thick.

“Come onnnn. This is your 3rd year here, you’ve gotta loosen up at some point. Just one hit? Please, for me?” Ellie flashed you the most annoying puppy dog eyes and a devilish smirk already anticipating your answer. Growing up you found it easy to resist peer pressure, you’ve always thought of yourself as a rule follower, but when it came to Ellie she always knew what to say to push you to the edge. She was such an instigator and you fell for her act every damn time.

“Fine… one hit.” She practically shoved the weed in your hands in excitement as you reluctantly gave in. Ellie always had so much fun chipping away at that good girl exterior you worked so hard to uphold. You then took a slow drag and passed it back to her. You fixated on her wet lips as they placed themselves around the joint. She took a quick inhale before an amused look spread across her face.

“Cherry?” Already feeling the high, you gave Ellie a puzzled look, not understanding what she meant. 

“Your lipgloss hun” She gestured to the pink stain rimming the tip of the joint.

Your face flushed red, “shit sorry.” You dug your foot into the ground and gave your lips a lick, recalling the fruity flavor.

“S’all good, I liked the taste” She replied, making your face turn a shade redder, almost matching the shorts that hugged your curves. Ellie would remember this moment, the taste of your lipgloss felt like a brush with destiny. Already assimilating the flavor to memory, she imagined her lips on yours and that cherry taste lingering in an exchange of saliva. God Ellie!! Stop being a perv and shut the fuck up!!

As one of the few masculine girls at camp, she was practically drowning in women, but her fixation with you prevented anything past a casual hook up. And casual hook up she did- with at least a fourth of the staff. Understandably, things got desperate being stuck at camp for 2 months straight. It’s not like you had the privacy to rub one out while sleeping in a room full of occupied bunk beds. But, with Ellie being a known player, you personally hadn’t thought twice about getting involved, despite the occasional butterflies. Bullying each other was more fun anyways.

Finally, Ellie finally finished off the joint, letting you take a couple more hits in between hers. She stomped the roach out into the moist ground making sure to put out any remaining embers. Her long stride pointed in the direction of the light filled cabins before you stopped her. With weed now rampant in your system, you weren’t ready for the night to end. 

“Waitttt, stopppp, we can’t go nowww!” You grabbed Ellie’s wrist leading her back into the darkness, straight towards the lake.

“What? You wanna hangout with me all of the sudden?”

“I- I wanna swim…” you mumbled, almost afraid to hear it come out of your mouth. One of the most important rules at Camp Stillwater was no swimming after dark. Ellie almost gasped hearing you propose such a mischievous idea. 

“Rulebreaker! Rulebreaker!” she chanted, almost falling over with laughter. Inside though, Ellie was kicking her feet at the thought of having a late night swim with her favorite girl. 

“Come on Els, you’re the one who told me to live a little. Pleaseeee!!” You bat your long lashes like a cartoon character but there was no need to beg as Ellie was already on board. She loved corrupting you.

“I’ll race you!!” She shouted before dashing through the trees, kicking up dirt with each long stride. Of course she turned it into a competition, and you bolted right after her trying to catch up.

Neither of you even stopped to breathe as you reached the edge of the lake. Instead shirts, shorts, and shoes all flying off your bodies landing amongst the greenery, desperate to get your sweaty bodies into the cool, evening waters. As you dived in, a sense of euphoria washed over your body along with the deep blue ripples of H2O. Ellie’s head rose out of the water 2nd. She slicked her wet hair back and gave you a toothy smile that was to die for. You giggled at the sight, everything seeming a bit more silly while under the influence. 

“Having fun princess?” she questioned, cheeks full.

“Yeah I am,” you smiled back, “I don’t think the fact that I’m breaking like 5 different rules has hit me yet.”

“Enough with the rules, let's have fun!” Ellie dove back into the water circling around your smooth legs. She took ur skin between her pointer and thumb, giving you little pinches like some sort of sea creature. You kicked and squirmed in reaction causing Ellie to shoot back up from her underwater adventure.

“Fuck off!” you shoved her bare shoulder with a teasing force. She put her hands up surrendering to your irritation. Her veiny arms glistened with lake water and your eyes wandered before getting stuck on the large tattoo adorning her forearm.

“Hey, that wasn’t there last summer.” you gestured to her.

“Yeah, uh, I got it a few months ago”

“It looks good,” you paused, “can I touch?” Ellie offered out her inked limb to you. It rested in your left hand and you used your right to trace the linework. Water droplets collected with each gentle brush of your fingertips. Goosebumps followed your delicate touch and Ellie's face turned red with enjoyment. 

“S’pretty” you said, noticing a blush growing across your own face. You glanced off into the distance at the silence. The thick forest trees and bright stars urged you to take in a deep, pollution free inhale. Ellie broke the moment of zen to speak.

“Turn around.” she demanded. You obliged immediately despite her unknown intentions. You felt her hot breath on your neck and sudden skin-to-skin contact. She hooked her long fingers around your wet locks of hair, moving them across your back to one side. A chill radiated down your spine

“What are you doing Ellie?” you whispered. The closeness you shared and the now still lake, cloaked with haze, sent a hush over the both of you. 

“Guess what I’m drawing” she whispered back. You scrunched up your shoulders in response to her vibrations hitting at your pulse. The feeling of her rough fingers met your back and began tracing symbols. You attempted to focus on her movements but it proved hard to decipher the message when she felt so close. Despite knowing Ellie for a long time, the two of you had never had this much prolonged touch. It ignited a feeling that you weren’t sure how to get control of. The silence hinted at your cluelessness.

“Here I’ll do it again,” she said, drawing out "I ♡ U” once more across your back.

“Fuck, I dont know. A dick?” You turned back to face Ellie questioning her with a giggle. Her face was littered with disappointment before quickly concealing it from you with a big splash of water. The tender moment was lost. She went along with your answer, lying through her teeth. 

“Fine, you got me freak! It was a dick.” You splashed Ellie back harder, amused by her childish humor. The water slinging continued until you both became absolutely winded and ready to climb in bed. Oh fuck, bed...

“ELLIE, OH MY GOD, CURFEW!” you practically squealed before switching to breaststroke and heading towards land. Ellie snapped out of this little dream and followed after you.

You frantically threw on your clothes over your now soaked bra and panties. Wet spots began seeping through your shorts as you fiddled with your sneakers. Your wet feet swirled in the dirt below, caking them with the mud of your making. You vetoed the shoes and bolted towards the cabins completely barefoot. You were so focused on getting back that you hardly even noticed the branches and rocks assaulting your skin.

“FUCK WAIT UP!!” Ellie yelled, just feet behind you. As you looked back to acknowledge her request your ankle caught on a huge log that littered the forest's path. Your balance was thrown and your face went plummeting straight into the ground, hitting a dull rock on its way down. Ellie’s pace doubled as she jumped to your rescue. She fell to her knees by your side giving you support as you lifted yourself up. Looking down, your hands were dirty, stuck wood chips pressed into the skin. You dusted them off against each other, seemingly fine.

“Bro, oh my god, are you okay??” Ellie pestered, worried out of her mind. 

“I think, yeah. It was honestly more embarrassing than painful.” you gave a light chuckle before looking up from the ground when suddenly a gush of liquid escaped your nose. Your finger dipped into the steady flow and you took note of the deep red now covering them.

“Just great.” you rolled your eyes. Ellie had the most concerned look on her face despite your injury being a simple bloody nose.

“We’ve gotta get you to the nurse like now!”

“Ellie chill, I’d rather not have an encounter with authority while I'm high as fuck and out past curfew.” You never thought you'd be saying that sentence.

“Fine, at least take this.” Ellie handed you a crumpled up tissue she had retrieved from her athletic shorts and you shoved it up your nose halting the flow.

Returning to the main area of the campgrounds felt like a walk of shame. You were drenched, muddy, and decorated in your own blood, and Ellie looked just as bad. Eventually the two of you reached your neighboring cabins and there waiting in between the steps of 11 and 12 was Warden Campbell. Fuck.

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

[ohwhataniight]

"Oh what a night" – The case of the BBC Sherlock transmasc aesthetics: Relating to problematic masculinities in search for identity

So I sat down and rewrote this silly essay I wrote one day after returning from my trip to the US. Flaneurism at its best (or at its worst, idk). Please bear with me but definitely send in your feedback if you read and feel like it, it means the world to me and it will definitely help me unpack some of my problematicness! Thank you <3

I take a deep drag of my American Spirit cigarette whilst the tail ofmy long black coat swishes behind me dramatically. Dusk-time Boston is lit up. The skyscrapers towering over my tiny figure are glittering against the dark through the blurry lens of my camera phone.

I am consciously imitating the aesthetic of the modern but also always Victorian BBC Sherlock, in the scene following John and Mary’s wedding, in which the world’s only consulting detective surrenders to his noble, quiet pining for his not-gay best friend.

What even is masculinity, anyway? What would I like it to be?

The creators of the series, Gatiss and Moffat, spent 10 years religiously denying the possibility of a romantic or sexual relationship between the two protagonists, while driving the hordes of fans into delirium every time that Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch) and John (Martin Freeman) made love with their eyes or confessed their devotion to one another. Despite the queerbaiting, the homophobia and the sexism in the Moftis series, despite the 4th season fiasco, despite the actors denying the possibility of their characters ever running together into the sunset, Sherlock himself never denied being queer. Gay, asexual, demisexual, the interpretations are many, a breath of representation in the relative democracy of fandom. And as if that wasn’t enough, Sherlock and John end up canonically raising John’s daughter together at their 221B Baker Street apartment.

The modernized urban Victorian aesthetic, the provocatively coded dialogues, the deep homosociality, and the simple, pure bitterness towards the creators, renders the community of Johnlock fans more alive than ever almost 10 years after the series’ finale. In some hidden, bright corners of the internet, like fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.com, women and queers publish analyses and fanfiction in which they explore the endless galaxy of human genders, sexualities, and forms of kinship, writing the insufferably British male characters as women, non-binary, FTM, Alpha and Omega, pregnant, high, and always together - two human animals exploring bodies and experiences that belong to us in the shelter of Baker Street, with their landlady, Mrs. Hudson, being their most ardent shipper. We write entire full-length novels for free, with our sole motive being the exploration, the practice in writing, and the communication with other queers, other women, other people who feel like us and live in different sides of the earth which, despite Sherlock not remembering, keeps on orbiting the sun with the certainty born by a Johnlocker for their OTP being endgame.

Back to Boston now, which looks like Glasgow on steroids, with its red brick buildings and the glass towers that pierce the skies - it doesn’t feel as cozy and familiar to me as European cities, but it is big enough to swallow and hide me, safely, away from the suffocating and often murderous, homotransphobic gaze of my motherland, Greece. Boston feels big enough to make me feel free, invisible, and at the same time more visible than ever.

Here’s how I made it happen: in the name of an egotistical but seductive flaneurism, in the idea that here I can be non-binary and roaming the streets while smoking without thinking that, at any given moment, I might be spotted by the people from whom I’m hiding both facts, I end up romanticizing a stroll on stolen land, as well as the tar in my lungs. I feel the need to wander around, heavily perfumed, with a hanful of product in my hair, dressed androgynously in a way that my mother only accepts because she doesn’t understand the meaning of it, smoking as the soundtrack of Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons’ December 1963 (Oh What a Night) blasts through my old headphones. As a queer person living in Greece, I never felt that the streets belonged to me. I’ve always felt like a pariah looking for somewhere to belong to, and the irony of going after that feeling in America as a white European tourist brings a certain sourness to my mouth. Is that how Columbus felt? Was he a sissy who didn’t feel accepted by his mum in their suffocating mediterranean society? No, fuck that thought. Fuck that circle, fuck everything I've been taught by the writers of history. I decide to leave these streets to their people, without it meaning that I’ve suddenly found the courage to reclaim my own back in motherland.

Exhaustion, flight, cowardice? Survival.

Later I will learn that the American Spirits with the Native American on their turquoise box are anything but native-owned. What’s certain is that, in this trip, I found solace while smoking stolen land.

What does that make me? A citizen of the world?

After all, in the entire trip, I pretend I’m Sherlock, the whitest man to ever white man. It’s not as if I don’t have my own personality - at least I hope that I do. It is that through relating (to fictional characters, actors, role models who remind me of an aesthetic I had to build from scratch for my trans self, with the help of other queer people who created fanart or fanfiction, moulding new arhetypes) I find a vehicle for the exploration of my existence more easily, I see my reflection (or the one I’d like to have) in the mirror. In the fandom nobody tells you how to imagine your favourite characters and how not to. Nobody tells you how to write yourself, and nobody blames you for doing it. You create with self-indulgence, and you’re applauded for it. And that saved my life.

For years I related to a genderfluid Tonks, a trans Remus Lupin, a fanon Jean Prouvaire from Les Mis. Through all those experimentations and games, the changing of clothes in the dark, the opening and closing of the closet door, I found a name for myself: Sam. And Sam, like every other trans masculinity with the name Sam, Skye, Noah, and Eliott, contains multitudes. 

For the timebeing, my persona of choice is that of Sherlock, perhaps the most insufferable (and one of the most privileged) characters in the history of British TV (which says a lot). “What do you have in common with that emotionally constipated man?” you ask me because you know that my own sentiments are constantly dancing naked before me. I wonder why that is. Indeed, what do I have in common with that guy and end up projecting so much on him? Me, who hesitates to even cancel a doctor’s appointment in pursuit of constant politeness and people-pleasing (AFAB, you see).

When Sherlock’s landlady, Mrs. Hudson, disapproves of his manners and threatens him with a tete-a-tete with his mother, Sherlock gives her his blessing, saying: “You can if you like, she understands very little”.

Sherlock and his turbulent relationship to his parents. Sherlock who always observes everything while staying outside, because he doesn’t know how to get in. Sherlock, always so different that he’s used to people laughing at him, gaping at him with awe, or wanting to punch him in the face. Sherlock who always attracts attention simply because he functions the way he functions, constantly failing to be a normal human being. Neurodivergent Sherlock, camp Sherlock, forgotten-in-another-era, flaneur Sherlock, who even in the Gatiss series (especially in the Gatiss series) is desperate to love, but he never manages to get it right. And finally, Sherlock the logical, the detached, the cynic: masculine elements that I never managed - and was never allowed to - acquire, and which I desperately, problematically craved, because in society and inside me they have been coded as masc.

I am the opposite Sherlock, and that makes me even more of a Sherlock, I decide, and if that helps me sleep at night, then so be it, for now. 

As Hil Malatino writes in the chapter Fall Out Boy is Trans Culture of his essay Surviving Trans Antagonism: “The boy at the center of a [Fall Out Boy track, brackets mine] is [...] being eminently braggadocious and narcissistic [...]. He’s stationed directly at the center of a completely solipsistic universe. No matter how insufferable this kind of guy is in reality, I would have killed for a fraction of his swaggering self-confidence as a kid” (Malatino 2020, 17).

What even is masculinity, anyway? What would I like it to be?

“Do I look like Sherlock?” I ask you, hopeful and doe-eyed as I prance around in my black suit inside the house while packing for the trip. “Sherlock is gender, you know.”

“Do you really want to know how I see your gender? 100% honest-to-God?” you ask mischievously.

“Yes, I do,” I’m hanging from your lips.

“You are, deep inside your soul, in this tartan robe of yours, Bananas in Pyjamas.”

I think about it. Not exactly Sherlock. I smile though. I see my gender in your words. Goofy, boyish, vintage, loud, sleepy, badly dressed: Me. Headcanon accepted.

If headcanon and fanon - that is, reclaimed - Holmes played by (problematic) Cumberbatch teaches me how to be a boy or a man, then so be it, because I hope that my performance will be filtered, as much as possible, through my “girlish” (though still white) sensibilities. That, and the fact that there is a child inside me who never got to live as an openly, unashamedly neurodivergent, inquisitive little boy. Because there is a masculine side inside me that I must hide every day when I go to work. So I put together a playlist, I put on my scruffy headphones, and I tar my lungs, just a little more, a little longer until I’m able to finally leave my country for good and feel ready to love myself as I am. My coat swishes behind me as I dance alone on the street, invisible among the crowd, yet feeling more visible than ever before.

CITATIONS: Malatino, H. (2020). Trans care, University of Minnesota Press. https://doi.org/10.5749/j.ctv17mrv14

[00queasy00]

9 Fandom Folks To Get To Know Better

Thanks for the tag @cealesti!! :3c

Three ships you like:

oh god this is hard okay okay uuhh the ones on my mind rn 1. tomarrymort / soulseeker (hp) - i find them so iconic, you know? their ideals, their parallels, their similarities, there seems to be new things to discover about them at every turn, just keep putting them in situations and watch them wreck havoc. the soulseeker fandom is filled with so much amazing amazing people so kind and creative, i feel like i have accidently stumbled upon the holy grail, the paradise that never ends <3 2. radiodust (hazbin hotel) - i ship them as literally the queer-coded villains that have nothing in common, yet they bond over being the meanest hottest couple in the hotel together and know the ideal make-up brands to go into territory battles in. theyre like two drama queens on different ends of the spectrums. i like them toxic, i like them dramatic af, i like them in pink and red hahaha XD 3. lawlight (death note) - tbh im fairly new into the ship, despite being a longterm death note fan :0 i was more into mellodramattic before lawlight era hit me recently lol. i love how people, pretty much, turn them into their personal anime yaoi dolls and force them to kiss lol.

First ship ever:

uuummmmm im thinking hetalia ??? XD uh England and America <3 i can never get over the angst. the sunshine gay and the grumpy gay dynamic.

Last song you heard:

La Vie en rose (alastor cover) by Paranoid DJ Please check out PARANOiD DJ's fan songs for hazbin / helluva, theyre so good!!! The Lucifer, Alastor, Stiker, and Verosika songs are my faves!

Currently reading:

Vicious Circle by Bakuko, cyberslut404, estnedo I barely started chapter 1, so no thoughts yet besides I am excited to check this story out !! The Emporer and The Star by wynnebat I am rereading this story <3 I enjoy it so much and the confusing and deadly feeling Harry is having with his Seer abilities.

Currently watching:

I am actually watching a few things rn, I jump around a lot depending what I am watching with who: -Gurren Lagann - my lovely partner never seen it! i had to change that! one of my fave fave core animes. -Toilet-bound Hanako-kun - a comfort show with gorgeous. gorgeous designs and a fun twist of traditional ghost folklore. -Heartstopper Season 2 - my wife loves the comic, so here we are. -Trolls Dreamworks Movies - watching with friends <3 the designs are so adorable and are very fun! i am always so blown away with how creative the team uses different craft textiles throughout the movies! the second and third movie are my fave <3 theyre like an hour and half long each! fairly short, but i HIGHLY RECOMMEND for a good time!! -Harry Potter Movies - watching with friends on saturdays <3

Currently consuming:

Water!! Stay hydrated folks!! <3

Currently craving:

to listen to magnus archive from the beginning again -- but rather wait for the whole story to be revealed first before restarting it again x_x

Tagging (no pressure!!): @raehb336, @i-dream-of-libraries, @liquidluckandstuff, @laserswordtraining, @chaos-bear, @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts, @tommarvoloriddlesdiary, @isalisewrites, @cloverwoodss, @kagariasuha @duplicitywrites @crowcrowcrowthing and whoever wants to join! if you havent been tagged and see this, I TAG YOU! come join its fun :3

[accio-victuuri]

Hi can you provide the link to read manhuas you prefer?

Hello Anon! OMG Manhua/Manhwa Rec! Here we go! I’ve only been reading for 2-3 months (consistently), so this will be pretty limited. I will link to the legit sites. A google search will direct you to others.

Most of these are WIPs and some, sadly, are discontinued. I won’t add TGCF or MDZS here cause those are already a given. 👇🏼

• Body Electric by Dong Ye ( completed, supernatural, lots of trigger warnings and plotty )

Ba Song is the hotshot cop who’s been handed an open-and-shut case: the suicide of a young woman. Except… who commits suicide by stabbing their own body and strangling themself? There's only one man who can help him with this mystery — Bo Shan, the renowned forensic pathologist with a severe and cold personality. What's more, his body produces bioelectricity, allowing him to acutely sense bodily injury with his touch. There's an electric current between them, and each touch sizzles with energy

If you like crime dramas and stories where they solve mysterious cases then this is for you. The romance is subtle, and their relationship is not insta-love. strangers to colleagues to friends to lovers trope. This also discusses alot of issues the society has that will make you stop and think. Ba Song is really the honorable MC in here who always wants to help people and do good. While Bo Shan is the reluctant one but deep inside, he wants to make a difference too. I wish they would make a donghua or live action out of this.

• 30 year old by S-Monkey - ( ongoing, age difference, blind dates, slice of life)

Charlie Wei is a single and handsome executive. He’s also a closeted gay guy who’s been on way too many bad blind dates with women. Charlie’s still hung up on his ex-boyfriend James and is… gasp, 30! Charlie’s family thinks he’s straight and too old to be without a wife! During another bad blind date, Charlie meets the flirty Ethan, who both annoys and intrigues him. Can Charlie finally come out and find true love with Ethan or will he continue on his streak of bad blind dates?

The cover looks melodramatic but it’s really not. This is so funny! I read this because people were saying it reminded them of BoXiao. And yes, there are moments here that remind me of them, but it’s more like an AU of BoXiao. I stayed up late trying to get caught up in the chapters and you won’t realize it cause it’s just that good. I love seeing the older MC loosening up and being more of himself. and the younger one being more responsible in his career. They just become better versions of themselves because of each other. It’s so sweet!

• I ship me and my Rival - by Pepa ( ongoing, comedy, reads like a meta )

This follows the adventures of Wei Yanzi, a third-rate actor in the Chinese entertainment industry, stumbles onto a shipping fandom for himself and another actor (Gu Yiliang) while trying to escape from the flame wars and negativity. He's so taken with this group of fans who actually see him as a good guy instead of an enemy/rival of Gu Yiliang that he falls head-first into fandom and becomes actively involved in trying to provide shipping fuel and the fans' daily dose of fluff.

IF THERE IS ONE thing you will read here, let it be this. It is hilarious. If you are a CP fan you will relate so much and it’s a good time. It just shows how people who think are rivals can actually be really good friends in real life. What we see is not always what it seems. and people will interpret things based on their bias. The MC here is so dramatic! how his inner feelings/reactions were drawn will make you laugh.

• Path to You - by Sinran (completed, slice of life, age gap fluff and comedy )

When almost college dropout Jensen attempts to drink away his problems, unemployed Nathaniel suddenly pukes on him and ruins his night. As an apology, Nathaniel offers to help Jensen with his studies. Despite Jensen's difficulties in getting along with people, the two become friends and something deeper begins to grow between them

The story is so soft. If you want something with mild angst/misunderstandings— then pick this. I love the progression of their relationship and how they take care of each other. There are other themes showed here other than the romance.

• Red Candy - by Hanse (completed season one with a cliffhanger, explicit scenes, assassins )

Shihyeon, aka “Red Candy,” is a secret agent whose code name comes from bathing in the blood of his marks on dangerous missions. Shihyeon’s tasked with seducing and obtaining intel from Hajun, a hot college professor. Shihyeon can disarm enemies, but didn’t expect to be disarmed himself by Hajun’s own tight body. Now Shihyeon’s caught between loyalty to his spy agency and Hajun. Can Red Candy survive the incoming wave of enemies and still indulge in the sweet ecstasy of Hajun’s embrace?

THIS STRESSED ME OUT MAAAN. Wow. I loved this. That season one cliffhanger. It’s definitely up there as my favorite. If you think about it, the tropes are really not original. An assassin is sent to shadow a person and they develop a relationship. That simple. But NOOOOO! There are so many things going on. The Main mystery plot, Their relationship, their shared past plus you have other sketchy secondary characters. And did i mention explicit scenes? Lots of them. I want this two to have a happy ending!!!

• Lone Swan - by Chu Man (discontinued, cultivation, star crossed lovers)

After losing his memory, Yiqiu Shen, a disciple from the decent sect meets a very special man named Luofeng Yan, who is the leader of the evil Divine Wind Cult. When escaping and conflicting with Yan, Shen gradually finds his original self as well as his previous love back. Together they rip off the facade of the martial world and reveal the hidden true

I didn’t want to add a discontinued story here, with no novel as a source material but this one made an impact on me. so. yeah. THE ART. breathtaking. The plot = layered. There are times I don’t even know who is telling the truth. It had so much potential and i hope it will get picked up again at some point. People rec this to those who enjoyed TGCF and MDZS, and they are right. 👍🏼

• Dragon in Distress by Si Wang Wen Hua - ( ongoing, dragons, past life, lost power, fantasy )

This is a story about a little Eastern green dragon and a little Western black dragon playing together.

The synopsis is pretty simple if you look at it but this one is pretty interesting. and surprisingly funny. tinie AoAo is so cute! 🤍 the other MC has tsundere tendencies tho. Lots of lore and more truths to uncover as the story progresses. I’m not giving it enough justice with how i’m reccing it, but if you like dragons and fantasy — give this a go.

• Breaking through the clouds 2: Swallow the Sea - Huaishang (ongoing, based on a novel, crime, drama, cases)

Wu Yu, a newcomer of the Public Security Bureau, is gentle and frail. He doesn’t care about the difficulties posed by Bu ZhongHua, his strict boss, and only wants to stay in the background to be paid on time with enough for food. However, no one knows that this young man’s head is targeted by top drug traffickers for a large bounty or that this courageous young man has once slaughtered the dragon of the abyss. With a chain of interlocking cases, a series of troubles come one after another. Can the two people work together to survive through the difficulties?

Do you see a pattern with me? lol. I like crime themes. This one is the same and by the looks of it, the cases they solve will take longer to unravel. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on yet so i’m just going with how the manhua is progressing. I like it when Wu Yu turns full on action-mode and when ZH takes care of him. Plus it helps that they are both gorgeous. I’ll get back this with a proper link.

• Where the Wind Stays - by Yusa (completed season one, curses, demons, possession, timeskip, explicit scenes)

To break an ancient curse that plagues the royal bloodline, young Prince Tasara is destined to be sacrificed in death. Nara is enlisted as a palace servant to carry out the prince’s execution when the time comes. But he develops a soft spot for the cursed prince, and after committing an atrocious and unforgivable act against Tasara, Nara is desperate to right his wrongs. Soon, their lascivious relationship that had been kept under wraps tests his resolve. Will Nara be tempted away from his original mission? There’s no telling how far he would go to earn Tasara’s forgiveness.

This story broke my brain, in a good way. I don’t wanna say much cause it will spoil the story. It’s the type that you gave to see and suffer through yourself. I am excited for what happens in season II!!!

Honorable Mentions:

I’m placing these here cause I have only read a few chapters and tho I liked them, I wanna read more before reccing it in full. 👍🏼

• I accidentally saved the Jinghu’s enemy

• Global Examination

• Monster entertainment

• Demon Apartment

And that’s it! Hope enjoy Anon! 😊

[icecreamkink]

watched all of the untamed / cql in two weeks after my friend 1 told me abt mdzs a hundred years ago and my friends 2 and 3 tried to get me into cql for like two whole years and there are.

feelings.

very first scene is a very dramatic death in the middle of nightmare battle on sith planet land . i will forget abt it in the next tenish episodes and then will be very surprised when it becomes Extremely Painful

anyway magic flying gays and possession and human sacrifice! we are off to a great start

in retrospect, chaos goblin wei wuxian must have had a blast pretending to be so cRaZy and be as disruptive as he could as mo xuanyu lbr

listen. why is fire always evil coded. cant a magic clan wear red, black and orange and have flame motif while being wholesome?

For Legal Reasons These Are Not Zombies

i wish the politics of the sect were a bit clearer, especially at the beggining when the wen clan had sm power, was wen ruohan the chief cultivator? is that why they were so slow in responding to the attacks? im v confused by the pre yiling patriarch politics

fighting in the roof by the moonlight as way of flirtiiiiiiing. as i understand this is a wuxia/xianxia trope and honestly...... thank u for ur service

slight bullying and being a nuisance in general, as a way of flirting we love to see it

wwx: if i drink on the rooftop, thats not inside the cloud recesses! hmmm check and mate :D lwj: i will fuck u up so help me god   wwx: :0

i lov them

through hell or high water (quite literally) wei wuxian rem ains a trashfire gremlin till the end and i love him with my whole heart

in the pt subs wei wuxian calls jiang cheng a stubborn duck and i dearly wish that had come back

my opinions on almost every character goes from love to hate u - Hmm Me Like U - BABY. ILY. and i am Very Pleased w that. its been a while since i loved such a complete cast so much i think

no really. i WONT go into a detailed rant abt what i love about each of these characters and each of their relationships to each other. but i COULD. 

some lan disciples in the loudest whisper ever: YEAH THATS THE JIN BASTARD MENG YAO HEARD THE GOT SUPER HUMILIATED BY HIS DAD LOL SURE HOPE HE DOESNT TAKE SLIGHTS TO HIS CHARACTER TO HEART

lan xichen, immediately: i must Love him 

being into problematic ppl is in the Lan genetics, we come to realize

wen qing deserves so many awards for so many things but not snapping and just stabbing wen chao is at the top 

that scene at lan qirens class where wwx talks about using resentful energy to fight a violent spirit. exquisite.

 It establishes Good Student lan wangji, wei wuxian as curious and questioning and not afraid of taboo,  lwj sees that wwx is not, in fact, a dumb ass hes just a Dumbass,  shows us the audience (esp. a western audience) how shocking the idea of disrupting the dead/dying and controlling resentful energy actually is,  the theoretical foreshadow arguing, everyone else like ‘shUT UP’,  “and how could you ensure that the resentful energy would obey you and not hurt other?” “well i havent thought that far” and of course, lan qiren just straight up lobbing a hard object at wwx head,. chefs kiss

fellas is it gay to bother the hot rule obessessed nerd from ur school and make drawings of him with flowers in his hair and then hide gay porn in his book to antagonize him and ask him to hold ur hand and be ur friend and talk to him all the time and get him drunk and give him bunnies bc you know he likes them and give him a lantern and always want his attention and dedicate yourself to getting him to smile-

and after all of that wwx rly said oh i Admire him, aksd like yeah we all were there in high school buddy

i have Learned. caves = gay.

 accidental marriage +beint physically tied together with the sacred married ribbon+ gay panic+foreshadowing+bunnies! in the cave (1)

the story abt lan yi and baoshan sanren tho. i would like to see it

early days wen bros pull my heart strings like a guqin 

EVERYTHING about the lantern scene; disaster hets jiang yanli and jin zixuan; how wwx made lwj a bunny lantern. how soft and touched lwj was. wwx gleefully pointing out he was smiling and lwj IMMEDIATELY PULLING HIW SWORD ON HIM LMAO. tragically foreshadowy promises to do right by pepople, living without regrets. lwjs 'oh no do i love him??' face. just. all of it. 

i have it on good acc that in the novel lwj is explicitly Repressed Gay Panicked Big Horny which is delightful and rly Adds to the performance

 baby lwj is really just conceal dont feel dont let them know u have EMOTIONS (derogatory)

jiang cheng rly went "why dont.u go play with HIM if u like him so much"

jc and wwx have big BIG annoying sibling energy dont think too hard abt it or youll cry

lotus pier is soo pretty :((((((((((((((((

up until episode 13 you could think this could be a magical ancient chinese gays pride n prejudice w swords and shenanigans ................youre just not prepared for the game of thrones of it all

seriously ha ha ha i cried so much w this show my eyes genuinely swelled up . like. physically. fun timez fun timez

that being said, its hilarious that wen xu goes to cloud recesses like 'come out or ill kill all these hostages' and then DOESNT WAIT FOR AN ASWER AND KILLS THEM ALL IMMEDIATELY. do u know how blackmail works sir

 would like to make it recorded that from day one i was like 'CALL A GODDAMN CULTIVATION G20 THIS ASSHOLE SECT IS LITERALLY MASSACRING YALL!!' and it took them like 3 or 4 massacres to do anything and they STILL sent their heirs into their territory  LIKE

when wwx cites the gusu lan rules to wen chao tho. that rebel/attention whore/cutie pie 'look lan zhan i DID memorize the rules after all' ‘also a big fuck you to the wen sect :D :D’ sweet spot that scene achieves . delicious

all the cultivator young masters being petty af even though they are practically prisoners at the cave is hilarious and i love them

hurt and comfort + gay mistunderstandings + watsonian gay declaration music + accidental evil acquisition! at the cave (2)

its like where do i start? the fact theyre both trapped and kind of heavily injured inside an isolated cave with a murder turtle? wwx gay panicking lwj into coughing up bad blood? lwj being jealous as wwx babbles abt mianmian? telling him he shouldnt play with people and wwx saying he never played him? wwx going Oh. I See what is happening. YOU like mianmian, and lwj absolute done face ??? (iconic) wwx touching the sacred married ribbon Again? the telepathic communication? the sword? WEI WUXIAN ASKING LAN WANGJI TO SING TO HIM AS HE IS PASSING OUT AND LWJ SINGING HIM. THE SONG. HE WROTE. FOR WWX. AND THAT HE CALLED. THEIR SHIP NAME????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

they are SO insufferable pleeeeease

in the words of my friend 1 : “CQL is so gay we were all amazed how it got past the censors Ofc unfortunately it can't be novel level gay But they did their best And we love them for it”

in the theme of songs THIS OST. WUJI HAS BEEN LIVING IN MY MIND RENT FREE SINCE I FIRST HEARD IT the whole ost is so so sO beautiful.

 the costuming in this is also soooo exquisite. the embroidery? the fabrics? the details? how every sect and clan has a distinct style and architecture? (also ik they based each off of dif periods in chinese history which is REALLY fucking cool) just chefs kiss

the direction too!. i enjoy the unusual camera movements and i think they give it that Vibe, also their composition is PARTICULARLY good when it comes to telling the subtext through position of camera/position of character (like nhs off to the side in scenes he at first glance doesnt need to be/ how lwj is often centered when hes Jealous Yearning at wwx being affectionate w other ppl, wwx return from burial mounds etc)

ik madam yu is like Badass Milf Check and shes not getting any mom of the year awards but im delighted at how messy she is. IMAGINE that woman on tiktok

you better have enjoyed gay cave (2) bc its Just Pain from here on out! 

jiang fengmian and madame yu win the Most Dramatic Way to show they do care about each other, actually ..... ever :)

i thought jiang yanli jiang cheng and wei wuxian forcing themselves to escape yunmeng barely holding on after their parents are killed was going to be the height of pain in this show. ha. 

the family dynamics in general on this showwwww, both blood/ adopted/ found families, brotherly bonds and lifelong friendships just. rly. truly. fucked me up. theyre all so important and complicated and well rounded and beautiful and tragic

and beyond being a Win For the Gays im so glad the relationships w wwx and jiang yanli/ wen qing were NOT changed from platonic bc they are so much better like that imo. like maybe if we didnt Live In A Society it wouldnt be so, but the fact wwx and others can love and value them so much and theres nothing romantic or sexual abt it is like. so refreshing. especially @ jyl, with the way he and jc are overprotective of her and shes such a nurturing/care taker figure for them, it would just not vibe as well if they made it romantic

i love that this is a story abt Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch aka Actual Satan/Boogey Man/Village With/Public Enemy Number One , my dude is literally a necromancer who only dresses in black and has evil smokey black tendrils wafting out of him, but the really edgy one is still jiang cheng, pastel purple fashion icon

and speaking of best/worst siblings wei wuxian and jiang cheng *immediately starts crying* 

The Golden Core Transfer i just. no thots only tears 

wen qing and wen ning putting themselves in so much danger just.... to help them. wn saving jc from wen chao. wq finding a way to get wwx to transfer his core. like thinking about the monumental work these two did to help wwx and jyl and jc... jyl trying so fucking hard to be strong and keep on moving and giver her little brothers comfort after losing everything... jiang cheng. losing his parents and his home and his ability to do anything abt it and his complete desperation and lack of self worth and turning on them with agression  when he didnt realize all that they did for him ... hhhhhhhhhhhhh

me, pointing at the whole cast “i just LOVE them mom!!!”

its sad tho, that BARELY ANY of the women have like.... actual important conversations let alone relationships with each other at all in the story. and like wq and jyl have stayed at the same place for extended periods of time, where wq actively took care of her TWICE,  and still! not one measly convo, nothing! ................ .𝓌ₕᵧ

everyone in this show need a good sip of Self Worth and Stop Sacrificing Yourself juice 

ngl the sword flying looks very dumb 

“a-cheng, please bring a-xian back.” “i will, i promise.” ;-;

the whole calling each other by the More Intimate Version of the name, first as teasing and later as true intimacy. mmmhmmm yes

untamed where everythings the same but wwx evil flute song is eoeo

related that scene when wwx comes back from the burial mounds for the first time w demonic cultivation and he acts all formal and calls lwj hanguang-jun and keeps being evasive and distant and mean and soooooo................. facetious 

and how hes kind of desperately trying to keep intense lwj at bay (A FIRST) and avoiding actually talking to either of them and its all tension ughhh and then he MOCKS his and lwjs relationship, he jokes w him in this like... mean echo of their usual ~banter~ oof 

 and like!!! uncertain but so relieved jc who just HUGS him w no reservations for once and its not like he isnt just as worried as lwj abt wwx and what hes doing, but he chooses in that moment to enjoy getting him back first and mmhmMMMmMm yes (maybe my favorite scene in the whole show? MAYBE SO. ) 

highkey hurt me but also. i might be into mean wwx. i will take no criticism.

lan zhans sad eyes tho :((((((((( 

on one hand i wish we could have seen what happened at the burial mounds but on the other the timeskip adds so much flair to his return so im hnnn

also i love that hes been missing for 3 months reappears kinda melancholic and bloodthirsty and knowing malign tricks and jc is like 'so. are u sad bc of lan wangji'

when ur bae survived the war but he thinks ur evil/ might be evil so you cant kiss :///

hmmm talking at the rooftop under the moonlight not mentioning everything that stands between usssss

they are the two jades of lan and we’ll be the two heroes of yunmeng is the type of line u dont even need to know whats gonna happen to know thats gonna be sad

when they fight wen ruoshan at the nightless city i thought that was the battle we see at the first ep and its not and its so easy and theyre all like ‘yayy we won go wwx!’ i was just. SCREAMS WHAT is gonna HAPPEN

so like. post burial mounds/sunshot campaign pre yiling patriarch wwx is like. ultra arrogant, ultra mocking, peak lil shit and it gave me e v e r y t h i n g i wanted

even tho having the wen prisoners at the targets at phoenix mountain and still having wwx and jzx shooting the arrows was???? so.... tone deaf 

wwx: fucking w demonic energy   jyl: he has never done anything wrong in his life, ever <3 <3 (mood)

the parallels between meng yao/wei wuxian (and even xue yang a bit?) are Seen and they are Valid

wwx post burial mounds: can yall SHUT UP abt the goddamn sword (suibian left the chat)

LIKE truly, we talk abt the angst and yearning with wangxian. but what abt wwx and suibian. xianbian / xianqing angst and comfort 100k

take a shot everytime someone coughs up blood

zidian is simply the coolest spiritual weapon rip to suibian and chenqing and bichen and sendou and baixa........ but tis the truth 

cons: everyones families died in a nightmare war! everyones homes burned to the ground! everyone is traumatized! pros: everyone gets cooler clothes and weapons!!

wen ning and a-yuan and yanli bestest babes squad dont touch me rn

everyone: brooding and fighting                                                                wq and jyl: why dont you try some acupunture/drinking some soup and calm down huh? how abt that bitch?? 

showing the battle/massacre at the nightless city first was genius actually bc then everytime we have a cute scene w yunmeng bros and theyre like 'we'll be together forever! uwu' youre like oh. oh no. oh no no no. 

justice vs lawfulness vs means and ends 👁

jc: stay in the right path and practice the art of the sword                        wx: yeah thats not gonna happen chief

my reaction to wwx renouncing to the sect politics to help the wens was just that elmo burning gif in succession

the dramatic rain. wen qing desperately calling out to wen ning. the ghosts/puppets killing the guards. how terrifying wn actually was while wwx was controlling him :( lwj goeing after him to try and stop him and then he just; he Sees him and understands him even if he cant actually do anything about it other than let them go. 

“there must be somewhere in this earth we can go to :(((((((((”

"IF I HAVE TO FIGHT THEM, I'D RATHER IT BE YOU. DYING BY YOUR HANDS WOULD AT LEAST BE WORTH IT." oh my god oh my god oh my goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooddddddd

also lwjs umbrella is white w black smoke.. .  . nice

yiling patriarch / demonic farming burial mounds settlement is like one of my favorite concepts. they an "EVIL" FARMING COMMUNITY LED BY THE VILLAGE WITCH COME ON

they planted TURNIPS and LOTUS FLOWERS and ONE (1) baby and made lanterns and a common hall :(((((((

wen qing and wei wuxian, baddest bitches and genius science best friends i absolutely LOVED to see it. they rly went ‘is anyone gonna sibling/project partner that’ and didnt wait for an answer

both wwx and jyl getting lotus ponds at the burial mounds and in lanling bc they miss lotus pier ;;;;;;;w

;;;;; wish jyl had actually gone into the burial mounds. we were robbed of jyl and wq meeting again and jyl meeting a-yuan and seeing the settlement and the homes and all ;w; at least jc did go, stab wounds and broken arms and all

wwx like... having thrown his whole life away to help the wens (yeah the sect leaders and jin guangshan in particular wanting his stygian tiger amulet was an Element but still) and not.... necessarily regretting it, but grappling with all of the consequences of it... becoming moody and drepressed at times, missing his family and lotus pier and his friends and probably simply missing being around people and causing trouble, extrovert that he is, lashing out at the wens and at a-yuan, just in general the whole messiness of that experience

the way the resentful energy does affect his temperament is rly nice bc its not too in your face,(i mean outside of the Shaky Hands of Rage) but like he clearly has a much lesser control on his anger and impulsivity (tall order) than both before bm and after hes ressurected

on that note A-YUAN BABIEST BABY BOY BEST BOY

lan zhan being like oh hey there wei ying fancy meeting u and our son here. just passing by u know how it is hmmmmMm and then PLOT TWIST having defied orders to go see him and being punished for it. oof;;

 they habent seen each other in like? a year? and now theyre tgt 10 seconds and are already parenting a child together

also lwj rly kneels down in the snow way too much to be healthy

wwx: calm down guyssss i wont lose control of demonic cultivation omgggg  .   spoiler alert: he loses control of demonic cultivation

did u enjoy cute children? good bc now the Real Pain Begins

jiang yanli and jin zixuan rly out there APROPRIATING both disaster gays AND bury ur gays huh ;w;

i KNEW jin lings birthday was gonna fuck something up but the GASP that left my body when wwx lost control of wn and killed jin zixuan .. . . 

im sorry and thank you aaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAAaAAAAA 

when wen ning and wen qing were telling wwx their plan i was saying NO NO NO NO NO NO out loud in despair 

also can we talk abt how wq is definetely talking about only the both of them surrending themselves but then? everyone else just surrenders w them? IT MAKES NO SENSE LIKE WHY WOULD THEY what would be the Point

 sometimes there are some pretty gaping jumps in logic and continuity that are just like                     ?          ?

wwx: oh so when you try to murder me its justified but when i survive through dark magic and murder all of you its a "war crime"

unsurprisingly, his most feral, most spiraling moment talking to the sect leaders on the roof and attacking them and even fighting lan zhan is among my favorite scenes... its like, so painful to watch but also   so       thrilling   (and maybe my wen bbs dying arose some resentful energy in me what can i say) 

and its JUST, all they ever wanted was to do good but then... war. and trauma. and hubris. 

jiang cheng on the ground clearly thorn between what to do and feel is a Mood, lets just say

i was already crying when jyl showed up, but if i wasnt-

 i suffered SO MUCH through this series trying to figure out WHY jc would kill wwx. and when i understood. its somehow not as bad as i thought and also MUCH MUCH WORSE

a look into my group chat during the last flashback episodes:

SO ANYWAY. after the BLOOD BATH and RIPPING YOUR HEART OUT and FEEDING IT TO YOU  the untamed goes ‘ayy back to the present!! tu du dud ud du’ 

literally it ends a quarter into an episode and then KEEPS GOING i had to pause and stare blankly at the ceiling for an hour

babie cultivators and detective soulmates . i do need some cute after All of That 

(not that the pain is over LOL)

lwj is significantly less emotionally repressed in the present and its delightful. hes just ALL IN with wwx. and not just in the ‘i would and have killed various men and risked my reputation for you’ but also ‘ur tired here have a drink i brought it up cause i know u like it and it want you to be happy, always’

“when everyone praised me and wanted my power, you were the only one that challenged me. now that everyone hates me and wants me dead, youre the only one that stands by my side.” hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnn 

and just filling in the blanks how lan zhan searched for him. for all of those 16 years he searched for him and was punished for it and raised a-yuan, the only survivor of the burial mounds settlement, as his own in gusu......

and jiang cheng.  being the tough love uncle . having raised the yunmeng jiang clan from the rubble all alone, his whole family dead, some of it on the blame of his own brother, his siblings, his closest friends gone.......and only jin ling there needing his guidance. 

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN JIN LING BEING A LIFELINE FOR JIANG CHENG AND A-YUAN FOR LAN WANGJI AFTER THE BATTLE AT THE NIGHTLESS CITY  

great now i made myself sad

and like . the fact! that lwj and jc dislike each other!!. jc projects blame onto him for wwx both “leaving” him and indirectly causing their families deaths and when hes so consumed by it he makes wwx an enemy, lwj is there now? trying to protect him?? and lwj, who can never understand the pain that wwx , indirectly or not put jc through, but who was right there when jc tried to kill him and will never allow him to hurt wwx again. and how they like. in a way project blame of their tragedies onto each other while dealing with some type of survivor guilt and in their own way still loving wwx through it all???  amd in way its kind of fundamentally selfish but also tragically understandable? and like when u put it against the fact that after he disappears during the sunshot campaign they were looking for him together and fought together??

JUST. THE CHARACTERS. AND THE RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS. MAN. UGH. GOD. 

and like i think thats what makes it so good? its such a sad and painful and violent story, edgy even, but its compelling bc at the center of it there are all of these relationships and different types of love and hope and. :( i love it

enough crying lets talk abt wwx sleeping at the jingshi with lwj and wearing his under garment for a minute 🙏

 jin ling just has that Was Raised by JC energy tho lmao i love him

babie cultivator squad is the perfect ammount of cute and comedic relief while still bearing the weight? of the narrative in a way, both from sizhui and jin lings existences, and also. like. how do i put this. they feel hopeful? they were born after a war, they came of age at a time of relative peace, they dont hold on so closely to the resentments of their parents/father figures, they are specifically shown as more accepting and open minded. and its like.... Hope for the future  

one of the ?? things  i love the most is the fact that the main cast are often in situations where theyre hunted/running but they like. never wear disguises... just going around in their gorgeous expensive clan clothes and hair ornaments and distinctive spiritual weapons.... maybe w a straw hat on, just for kicks

wwx teacher 🥺🥺🥺

so this is why its called Yi City Misery huh

a-qing is such. an icon. im so sad. my girl even knew to leave xys dumb self rotting by the road but no one listens to her thats why theyre all dead or sad 

her and xue yang measuring each other up was so entertaining lmao

 its the funniest thing when hes like. HERES MY SAD STORY. FOR WHY IM A SADISTIC MURDERER. I BROKE MY HAND ONCE. 

like ok someone broke his hand in a horrible way, and like Poverty, i get it but also like.......... that lost the brunt of a proper sob story like, 50 sadistic murders ago bby

and i love that xingchen does not entertain that for a second hes like ‘not ?????? good enough???’ and the best thing is he wasnt even like 'u hadto be the bigger person' or sth but ' well then break that dudes hand back, rip his arm off for i care, what do the rest of us have to do w anything???” 

anjo sensato :(

xue yang is like..... the sexy sadistic evil version of a himbo..... a meanbo...

the fucked upness of xy’s feelings for xxc/ xxc and sl feelings for each other... like my dude literally gave his bf HIS EYES. and xy getting so attached to xxc .... the fucked up fake domesticity.... having him hurt sl..... then desperately trying to bring him back ...................... oof

song lan........... literally had his eyes AND tongue removed, his bfs eyes put in place, was almost killed, turned into a puppet by his bf unknowingly, manipulated by xy, sees his bf killing himself in despair.... and STILL finds the strenght to get up from there, and keep on traveling and helping people and attempting to fix xxcs soul.......... like, my man. damn. 

wangxian looking at songxiao and seeing an Actually more painful parallel for themselves. ft. that Color Coding. 

THE A-YUAN/SIZHUI REVEAL PUNCHED ME IN THE HEART but in a good way for a change

should have know that he would be the Best Boy the cute one w all the braincells

the butterfly AND the bunny lantern. i see how it is

u know is very convenient that no one can see the stark black veins on wen nings neck, ever 

BAT WEN NING 

wns face when lwj comes into wwx room like ‘:0 omg did u two finally get your shit together? good for you master wei good for u’ 

(they didnt) (yet)

DISASTER DRUNK LWJ. JUST. THRUST SOME CHICKENS TO SHOW UR RESSURECTED BAE THAT U LOVE THEM.

i have absolutely no idea WHY they gave lwj the same punishment for fighting his own sect/allies to protect the burial mounds as when they got drunk on cloud recess class days.... like? its such a ... emotional continuity error again

also is lwj gonna get an actual friend besides wwx , ever

mianmian marrying and having a family and a cute life after saying FUCK U AND UR SYSTEM TOO in a much less unhinged and dramatic way than wwx......... fills me w joy

also lol the idea that like. her husband not knowing that shes friends w satan/the boogey man/the village witch is hilarious

i love nie mingjue bc hes the resident Though Guy but also the most dramatic bitch in this show and thats Saying Something

jin ling cant have one uneventful relative can he

the fact that everyone present already knew “mo xuanyu” was wwx at the stairs is so funny, their faces are like ‘oh............ wow. that. sure is a development. shock” 

in the tradition of extremely loud whispers wwx tells lwj with twelve guards standing like one meter away from them: HEY PSH LAN ZHAN PRETEND IM FORCING YOU TO STAY W ME DO IT

oh my god oh my god

the absolute Yearning on his face when he leaves wwx and a-yuan at the burial mounds and refuses to stay for dinner was already Enough but the fact?? they brought it back?? to this declaration of love?? their expressions??????? strike me dead right now just go ahead

lFor Legal Reasons We Cant Kiss but we will have a very sappy declaration of love and trust and look at each other in way that is the actualization of 💞💘💗💖💓💘💞💗💖💘💗💖💕💞

also icb all the sect leaders and guards are standing there watching them say they like like each other with a dozen swords pointing at their neck

i enjoyed the depiction of the fickle public perception and how easily it can be used to scapegoat people. when the sect leaders turn on jgy and wwx knows thats its more for convenience than anything else...

poor lxc is literally like 'oh so when YOUR problematic boyfriend gets called evil its a misunderstanding but when its MY problematic bf-'

ok like i cant get over nmj let jgy play a song that messed with his temperament at all, like maN u KNEW he might be shady wth

wwx: “hey dont say anything bad abt lan zhan hes not an arrogant dick, thats just his face. 

ME ON THE OTHER HAND"

the cultivators as wwx is poking holes in their narrative is literally *nazaré meme*

"wei wuxian-!" "what did i break your leg, too?" not to be problematic but i laughed so hard

not as hard as "you dont have the rank to talk to me " tho

i Enjoy that, over the course of story, wwx sees that... theres nothing truly to Do, but move on. he saw how his arrogance and his mistakes hurt others, and hes trying to fix what he can, but he already did die for his mistakes and there are things he cant fix and that's. just how it is. even towards jgy, the narrative doesn't go gleefully and completely with "lets make THEM pay bc theyre the big bad" bc its not that simple, and it wouldn't lead anywhere but more pain...

re him and jiang cheng and the wens and kinda. isnt that what nhs did? scheming to displace jgy out of revenge more than any justice and doing so in the most painful way?

idk if that actually makes sense im truly just babbling

i thought the scene at the lotus pond would be CUTE but the context was PAIN again

jiang cheng finding out about his golden core and his conflict with wwx at the guanyin temple .... destroyed me but in a nice way kinda.... same way it destroys him look at his face oh god

and. the fact??? he sacrificed himself for wwx?? first?? and he'll probably never tell anyone much less wwx???? keeps me up at night

i havent decided if the neckbreak transition between jgy does sth super Evil or does he he does OR Does He yes he does O R does heeeee is sth i dislike or not

jin guangyao and wei wuxians most interesting parallel is that... theyve both seen 'hmm hey this system is fucked up' and wwx went 'so fuck it all i will renounce it and challenge it' and jgy went 'so fuck it i will use all of it to my advantage and manipulate it to my goals and whims'

the fact jgys mom was actually great and he loved her and his whole issue w it was more than simply being ashamed of being a bastard kinda got me ngl

never trust a dude with a fan.

nhs and jgy: the first rule to a convoluted and decades spanning violent revenge plot is to have fun and be yourself! 

when a-yuan finally FINALLY remembers ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; wen ning has someone in his family back and a-yuan has someone to talk abt his wen family and wwx has him back bc he survived and lwj raised him anD HES THEIR SON. THEYRE MARRIED AND HAVE A SON. UGH.

and theyre allowed to heal. everyone is allowed to try and recover and be happy

netflix put all of the 3 endings on top of each other and it looks kinda weird actually BUT I DONT EVEN MIND :’’’’’’’’’)

the gasp that left me when lwj says ‘wei ying’ and wwx turns.........

there was also a screen with ‘thank you mxtx for creating these characters, we hope their wishes come true’ and i might. have cried then too. maybe. 

that was . a ride. as is proven by this behemot of a ramble clearly i just really needed and Outlet. i am currently trying to convince dumb monkey brain to not consume the other medias of mdzs immediately bc i REALLY need to like. live. a life. and take care of real responsibilities.  *longest oh boi ever*

[ashes-orielly]

👀 little teeny tiny crack fic of undertale drumbot? i need to see this ahdgfjdjksjhg

Hey the tiny lil crack fic inspired by this post (btw @sorrowsunny look at the thing I did) ended up being... not so little. Enjoy!

***

The Drumbot was one of Carmilla's more... interesting experiments. Which, Nastya knew from personal experience, was saying something. After his Incident, the only part Carmilla had been able to save was his heart and a file download of his personality, which she had altered to her will before inserting. And for all Carmilla was a scientist, she wasn't an engineer.

To put it bluntly (and that was for the best, Nastya didn't do well beating around the bush), Carmilla had shoved the Drumbot's heart and file into a metal contraption made of a clock, and he was forced to wander around on a spinning wheel with two metal balls at the end of his 'arms' and a screen that was perhaps meant to serve as his face.

The hat on top of his box was a nice touch, though.

The Drumbot's new body (if you could even call it that) made it hard for him to do the things he used to. His 'handballs', as Raphaella had called them (causing Ashes to spit out their drink, but the name stuck) were magnetic, could become electrified upon will, had laser and blacklight capabilities, and could play any song the Drumbot could think of. The only problem then was that Carmilla forgotten to add fingers. And as it was, she met her unfortunate and completely accidental end before she could do anything about that fact. Which meant, of course, that the Drumbot came to Nastya.

"You want... my help?" she asked after listening to his request. "I don't know a thing about biology. That's Raphaella's area."

The light square on the Drumbot's screen moved to the bottom left corner, which might have been his equivalent of not meeting her eyes. "She scares me," he said after a moment, robotic voice monotone but somehow still conveying shame.

"...You do know you can't die, right? What do you think she'll do to you?"

"Look what she and Carmilla did to Doctor Pilchard."

"You can't prove anything," Nastya said, probably too quickly. "That being said, I.... see your point. Will you let me run a diagnostic on you first? You know, look you over, maybe glance at your code? That way I can make sure I won't break you."

Two new glowing blocks showed up on the screen. Was he... blushing?

"Sure," he said after a pause too long. Helios, was Nastya going to have to explain how completely and utterly gay she was? Maybe she could just have Aurora lock the Drumbot in his room for a few centuries- he'd have to forget about any crush by then.

Nastya shook her head, telling herself to focus. There would be time for that later, and she had been dying to check out the Drumbot's tech.

"Sit here," she said, pointing at a spot on the floor. They were in her engineering room, and she always worked leaning against the wall or by crawling under or in things, and so saw no need for chairs. Brian sat, if you were using a loose definition of the term. His stick? Leg? robotic pole folded, so that he was hovering a bit lower than before."Good. Now, can I check your back? Carmilla had a love for hidden compartments."

He nodded, and she ran a hand over his back, searching for the hidden cavity where Carmilla would have placed the port. Her fingers caught on a latch, and she pulled it open with a grin.

There was the port, with the drive sticking out proudly. And, right beside it, was a little silver switch labeled on one side EJM and on the other side, where it currently rested, MJE.

Now, let us all be clear. Nastya wasn't the type to go pressing big red buttons just to see what they do- that was more Jonny's expertise. And Ashes'. And Tim's. And Ivy's, and Raph's, and- Okay, maybe it was her that was the outlier.

That being said, this wasn't a big red button. This was a switch. And no self respecting engineer can resist a switch.

The metal moved easily beneath her finger. And for a long moment, nothing happened.

Then metallic golden smoke started pouring out from little vents in the Drumbot's handballs, and ukulele music began from somewhere she couldn't see. Two projectiles flung themselves from wherever in his box they had been hiding, and Nastya let out a yelp as she ducked for cover.

The Drumbot made that might have been a shriek, if he had the vocal range, and raised his smoking hands to his box like he was trying to hold his head.

Nastya tripped over herself trying to back away. Her eyes dartwd between him and the two little drones circling above him. It didn't matter, really- they were quickly obscured by the gas. A mask dropped from the ceiling, and Nastya shoved it over her mouth and nose, silently thanking her amazing girlfriend.

The smoke filled the room entirely now, obscuring everything. She didn't even know where the door was. No escape, then. She pressed herself against the wall, watching where the Drumbot had been.

Out of the fog, two beams of light appeared, shining towards the middle of the mass. The drones, the logistical part of her mind said. The other parts of her mind watched in mute terror at whatever Carmilla had done, whatever Nastya had done.

A voice- not the monotone of the Drumbot, but an actual voice- emerged from the mass.

"Now the party's arrived."

Aurora's ventilation finally kicked on, clearing the gas from the room. Little by little, the Drumbot was revealed.

Or what had been the Drumbot, anyway.

Because standing in the middle of the room was a man made of metal. He stood, one hand holding his hat (the Drumbot's hat) and the other held dramatically behind him, sweeping open his coat. His eyes met Nastya's, and he sent her a charming smile.

"I see you know how to have a good time," he said, still posed dramatically. The spotlights reflected off his metal skin, and a part of Nastya tucked very far away made to swoon. She hit that part with a shovel and shoved it behind a locked door in her mind.

"Drumbot?" she asked uncertainly, finally lowering her mask. Now that she could see him better, she saw the clear panel in the center of his chest. Under the glass lay a bright red heart, pulsing steadily.

"The one and only." He swirled his hand and bowed deeply. "Well, sort of. Apparently Carmilla split me in two."

"And you- box you- didn't tell us why?"

"Because it would cause you stress, and I'm not fond of causing stress in that state. The means simply didn't justify the ends."

Nastya was smart- scary smart. And she had known Carmilla better than anyone except Jonny, had listened to many a rant about what makes someone human. Every mechanism had been a test to that- am I still human without a heart, blood, lungs, eyes, the list went on. Eventually Carmilla had come to a conclusion, an answer. She found out what made them human- really human- and poked it with a stick.

"Your morality," she said with realization. "The switch altered your morality?"

"Exactly. I'm the fun Brian." He sent her another grin- who smiled that much?- before a thought seemed to strike him. "The fun Drumbot? No, I like my name. Is it even my name now, if I'm only a heart?"

"Drumbot Brian," Nastya suggested quickly. Philosophy always gave her a headache. "Are you going to do that... smoky thing every time you switch?"

"What? Oh, no. That was a one time thing. The spotlights get to stay though. Hey, we can even use them for our performances!" His face lit up as he thought, and Nastya felt herself relax a fraction. "We would need more, of course. A lot more. Huh." Their eyes met once again, and in a split moment he had a gun pointed at her.

"Let me give you a lesson," he said. "I'm Ends Justify Means. That means the thing I want- the ends- are worth whatever I have to do for it. So! I want more spotlights, and you're an engineer. That means I'm perfectly willing to hold you at gunpoint and slash or shoot you to make it happen. Get it?"

He pulled the hammer on the gun back, and Nastya felt herself relax all the way. He would fit right in.

[maniclemons]

Yolanda, Camp Sensibility and the "Oscar Wilde Of The Camera"

Okay, so I was minding my business reading stuff for my work on dream narratives in popular culture and suddenly I was attacked at the footnotes section of one of the academic papers (which happens all the time tbh). The author mentioned in passing that, well, there is a musical called YOLANDA AND THE THIEF (1945) which just happens to be one of three Vincente Minnelli musicals that have been characterized as a self-conscious camp style of visual excess. The author argued that the camp style in musicals, especially those made by the Arthur Freed unit at MGM, was particularly appropriate to the even greater visual excess of the dream sequences. 

So yeah, of course I did a double-take and immediately thought of Donde estás Yolanda (Sherlock and John reunion theme) - thanks for the opportunity to refresh the hell out of it @thepineapplering !

FEATURES OF INTEREST of “Yolanda and the Thief” in no particular order:

• The "dream ballet" dream sequence (inspired by Dali); • Repressed homosexuality manifesting itself through nightmares and fear of entrapment in a heterosexual marriage; • Integration of straight romance (plot) and gay-inflected visual codes; • Critique of a capitalist culture industry from the point of view of a queer professional embedded in it (writer/director/set designer/crew member etc.) • Something else?

Also of interest: Holmesosexuality: On Mark Gatiss’s Camp 

As I am not, academically speaking, a specialist in queer theory, all the references can be found below.

I haven’t seen anyone writing about this particular musical in connection with Sherlock yet, but I might be wrong, because my tumblr search skills still suck a bit. Anyways, it was fun and added more contextual layers to my own understanding of the show!

“YOLANDA AND THE THIEF” is a 1945 American Technicolor Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer “Arthur Freed Unit” musical-comedy film set in a fictional Latin American country called Patria. It stars Fred Astaire, Lucille Bremer, Frank Morgan, and Mildred Natwick, with music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Arthur Freed. The film was directed by Vincente Minnelli and produced by Arthur Freed. The “Freed Unit” refers to the “unit” (studio team within the larger studio production house that was MGM) headed by lyricist and producer Arthur Freed. 

"Yolanda and the Thief" is one of three Vincente Minnelli musicals that have been characterized as a self-conscious camp style of visual excess, the other two being " Ziegfeld Follies " (1946) and…….. "The Pirate" (1947). As Jane Feuer suggests, "a gay subcultural reading would elevate these Minnelli masterpieces of the 1940s above the currently more esteemed Freed Unit musicals of the 1950s – "Singin' in the Rain" and "The Band Wagon", whose sophistication stems more from their smart Comden and Green scripts than from elements of excess in their mise-en-scene."

CAST:

Fred Astaire as Johnny Parkson Riggs Lucille Bremer as Yolanda Aquaviva (aqua-viva? as in Latin vivere/vita? as in "aqua vita(e)" which is "an archaic name for a concentrated aqueous solution of ethanol" and at the same time a type of magical water which brings people (mostly heroes) back to life in Slavic mythology?) Frank Morgan as Victor Budlow Trout (a friend of Johnny's and literally his partner in crime)

FEATURES OF INTEREST (in no particular order):

• The "dream ballet" dream sequence (inspired by Dali); • Repressed homosexuality manifesting itself through nightmares and fear of entrapment in a heterosexual marriage; • Integration of straight romance (plot) and gay-inflected visual codes; • Critique of a capitalist culture industry from the point of view of a queer professional embedded in it (writer/director/set designer/crew member etc.) • Something else?

The narrative of Yolanda offers a romance between a naive and wealthy young woman, Yolanda Aquaviva (Lucille Bremer), who is tricked by a con man, Johnny Riggs (Fred Astaire), into believing that he is her guardian angel. Johnny plays upon Yolanda's gullibility in order to convince her to confer her power of attorney on him, but just as he is ready to depart with the goods, he finds himself romantically and erotically drawn to her. His attraction to her surprises Johnny, because he ostensibly does not expect to find Yolanda a figure of erotic contemplation, and his jaded sensibilities lose out to his romantic impulses. But moments of camp playfulness in the film offer another reading of Johnny's surprise at discovering himself in a seduction beyond his overarching greed and cynicism, for there are strong possibilities for seeing him as gay.

DREAM SEQUENCE BALLET

The "dream ballet" sequence is an extended (approximately 15 minute) routine for Astaire, Bremer, and various others, which Minnelli has described as, "the first surrealistic ballet in film". Its Dali-esque scenery sort of mirrors "real-life" Patria which Yolanda’s Aunt Amarilla called “an out of the world place” elsewhere. That’s really what Minnelli was going for here. He seeks to evoke a feeling that Johnny have left behind what he knows and entered a world of mysticism and dreams.

This dream sequence ballet opens with Astaire dressed in a remarkable dandy outfit with a pair of off-white satin pajamas. Becoming restless in his bed, Johnny dresses and walks through the streets of Patria's unnamed capital, where he moves into increasingly surreal landscapes in which various women trap him in symmetrical dance steps: washerwomen unfold furls of different-colored fabric in stark geometric patterns that form a prison out of which he cannot escape. Yolanda’s entrance into the dream is grandly spooky. Against the backdrop of a Dali-esque desert landscape, Yolanda rises from a pool of water wrapped head-to-toe in pale scarves that float all around her. Her face is obscured, a look reminiscent of René Magritte’s 1928 painting The Lovers, and more suggestive of alienation than romance. Once Johnny unwraps Yolanda from her scarves, the spookiness of the sequence dissipates a little, but the mood has been set, and when the unwrapped Yolanda puts her arms around Johnny and sings, “Will You Marry Me?,” the effect is mildly sinister. The sequence concludes as Yolanda dons a set of outrageously long bridal veils and Johnny gets one of them wrapped around his neck like a noose when he attempts to flee.

In the "Will You Marry Me?" number Johnny wrestles with the trauma of potentially being trapped in a marriage to Yolanda for her money. Yolanda appears throwing off a series of veils trimmed in coins, and sirens in short dresses and high heels entice him with a cask into which Yolanda has dispensed her gold. The number effectively links Johnny's fear of marriage with his greed, or, more properly according to the dream-logic of the "Will You Marry Me?" sequence, his greed is the film's alibi for not stating more directly his desire not to bond with a woman, no matter what her beauty or wealth. The film temporarily addresses the question of whether Johnny will accede to the demands of marriage through the camp art direction's treatment of him as gay.

So this is more specifically a nightmare ballet, one that takes marriage—the typical happy ending of many an MGM musical (including—spoiler alert—this one)—and transforms it into a thing of anxiety and horror.

While the dramatic function of the dream ballet is questionable, its adventurous spirit and execution should not be ignored. Bear in mind that Agnes de Mille’s dream ballet for the original stage production of Oklahoma! first appeared on Broadway in 1943, just two years before Yolanda and the Thief hit movie screens. Yolanda and the Thief also predates The Red Shoes by three years and An American in Paris by six. Minnelli was staking out new territory here, trying out a storytelling technique that he and other filmmakers would employ with greater success in the future.

STYLE

What is labeled as the integration of straight romance and gay-inflected visual codes is more generally within the camp sensibility what we might call "style," or more particularly, a style of excess. James Naremore describes this differentiated style as Minnelli bringing “a rarefied sense of camp to musical numbers, making…[him] ‘an Oscar Wilde of the camera.’” To be an “Oscar Wilde of the camera” would of course conjure images not only of queer sexuality, but a simultaneous devotion to the aesthetics: one who would converse, write, lecture on subjects ranging from poetry to interior design. This parallels Sunsan Sontag’s assertion that “Clothes, furniture, all the elements of visual décor, for instance, make up a large part of camp. For camp art is often decorative art, emphasizing texture, sensuous surface, and style [sometimes] at the expense of content.” Indeed, Sontag begins her “notes on camp” by quoting Oscar Wilde’s famous aphorism, “one should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art.” However, camp is not simply an adoration of colour and texture, but a certain critical – comical, even – perspective on heterosexist and gender normative culture, both male and female. 

And beyond discussion of pure aesthetics of delight, camp within the Freed Unit is also indicative of a process of labour as method of negotiation between queer identity and heteropatriarchal capitalist hegemony (critique of a culture industry from the point of view of a queer professional embedded in it).

AUDIENCE REACTION

Campy style within Freed films circulated to noncamp audiences under the more general idea of their being “stylized” or “witty". The comments of film-goers who attended previews of, for example, Minnelli's "The Pirate" confirm that the studio knew that the film tended to emphasize its own spectacular art direction while sometimes disregarding streamlined storyline and clear characterization. In the cards, where anonymous viewers offered praise and disparagement, a repeated emphasis on the art direction arises: "the sets detracted from the people and the music was too loud," "not realistic enough," "entirely too surrealistic," "the beautiful background settings were exceptional," "plot rather thin," "truly one of the most exciting pictures from every standpoint, direction, artwork, color, dancing, scoring," "beautiful coloring," "slightly fantastic plot not developed in as natural and realistic a way as it could have been," and perhaps the most telling, "Minnelli back to the small minority who really appreciate him." The above comments would suggest that these viewers had screened a film by Dali or Bunuel, not the product of MGM after twenty years of corporate film-production experience.

Which takes us to the next (and very familiar) aspect…

MISE-EN-SCENE VS. STORYLINE

Musicals have largely been understood as primarily narrative films at the expense of other features. The plotline that structures many musicals is that of straight romance and marriage. The world in which a man and a woman meet and find initial attraction, in which their union is frustrated, and where ultimately the prohibitions to heterosexual bonding are overcome through the mediation of the song and dance number is typically the world of the musical. But there is more to the making of musicals beyond the plotline and its ancillary subplots, all of which are said to be brought to happy closure at the film's completion.

What seem to have been the memorable features of Freed unit musicals for contemporaneous viewers were their dazzling sets, costumes, use of color (in terms of film stock, set painting, and lighting) and choreography. These specific elements of film production are perhaps most likely what the various viewers are locating as the Freed unit's distinguishing style, or, to remember the viewer who commented on the "small minority" who might be interested in Minnelli films, that this style was idiosyncratic enough to have both fans and detractors. This style distinguished the unit's films from those of its rivals.

Minnelli's work habit of plotting a film's numbers by creating a series of paper dolls and scaled-down sound stages in which to place these figures suggests that his first impulses were to conceive of a film through its mise-en-scene rather than its storyline. Within the limits of the system, Minnelli was able to say a good deal about sets and costumes, and he usually influenced the overall visual conception of his films.

Dance (and singing) performance disrupts the narrative by momentarily disregarding the force of the story for the power of the spectacular dance routine. Likewise, the backdrops and costumes perform a similar function but that we tend not to notice their potential to antagonize narrative because, of course, most often the disjunctive features of the mise-en-scene are maintained in the film's movement back to the storyline.

Just as Johnny emerges from his dream shaken but unsure of what it means, the historian of camp production can perhaps trace the presence of a masked homosexual narrative only by remembering the strange details which seem to have been so easily forgotten.

REFERENCE:

Tinkcom, Matthew. Working like a Homosexual: Camp Visual Codes and the Labor of Gay Subjects in the MGM Freed Unit. Cinema Journal, Vol. 35, No. 2 (Winter, 1996), pp. 24-42.

Turner,  Lexi C M K. A Queer Translation: “Camp” Sensibilities of the Classical Hollywood Musical Era, vs. the 1970s Desertion of Narrative Utopia.

Cohan, Steven. Incongruous Entertainment: Camp, Cultural Value, and the MGM Musical (Durham N.C.: Duke University Press, 2005).

Dunne, Michael. American Film Musical Themes and Forms (Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland & Company, 2004).

Cohan, Steven. “Introduction: Musicals of the Studio Era.” In Hollywood Musicals, the Film Reader. Edited by Steven Cohan. 1-15 (London and New York: Routledge, 2002).

Feuer, Jane. The Hollywood Musical, 2d ed. (London: BFI Books, 1993).

Sontag, Susan. “Notes On ‘Camp.’” In Against Interpretation and Other Essays. 275-292 (London: Penguin, 2009).

https://www.brightwalldarkroom.com/2018/10/24/yolanda-and-the-thief-1945/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yolanda_and_the_Thief

[supergay-supergirl]

6x02 Recap: A Few Good Women

Setup

Kara is trapped in the Phantom Zone.

Lex is mortal and in jail. It's currently the day of his trial.

Alex tells Kelly offscreen that Kara is Supergirl.

Plot

There are pretty much three separate storylines in this episode, so I'll go through them one by one.

Jailbreak:

J'onn, M'gann, Alex, Brainy, and Nia find a vampiric alien from the planet Transilvane named Silas and ask for his help breaking into the Phantom Zone.

Silas succeeds in building a portal, but the Super Friends realize that because all the worlds combined in Crisis, the Phantom Zone is now made up of a range of vibrating frequencies that are impossible to search effectively.

Due to their hesitance, some Phantoms get out.

Dreamer, J'onn, and M'gann send the Phantoms back by combining their psychic forces.

At the end of the episode, Silas collapses and a Phantom comes out of his mouth. We realize the Super Friends didn't send all the Phantoms back.

The Phantom Zone:

In the Phantom Zone, Kara is attacked by Phantoms. She wakes up in a cave to find that her father, Zor-El, is alive and saved her.

Zor-El warns her that if she continues to resist the Phantoms, they will continue to torture her with her greatest fears and worst memories. Kara, being Kara, gives a badass hope speech and keeps trying anyway.

Kara and Zor-El realize that the Phantoms can create portals to get from place to place. They decide to capture a Phantom.

Lex's Trial:

Andrea asks Lena to speak on the record against Lex, but she refuses.

Eve Teschmacher testifies against Lex. It all seems to be going well. Unfortunately, Lex sucks.

Lex twists Eve's testimony against her by saying that as his spurned lover, she had the motive and means to commit these crimes and frame him. Her testimony is thrown out.

Lena makes a dramatic entrance into the courthouse and testifies against Lex. She provokes him into going off into a rage and essentially confessing to everything.

Unfortunately, the jury is exceedingly sexist and acquits Lex of all his crimes. Somehow.

Fallout

Lex is officially a free man.

However, Lillian sells Lena all her shares of Luthor Corp so that when Lex returns, Lena will retain control.

M'gann convinces J'onn to take things slow and steady, without letting his emotions get the best of him.

Alex, on the other hand, is not in a great place emotionally. She's desperate to get her sister back at all costs.

With Brainy's help, Nia is training to be able to divine Kara's location once they get to the Phantom Zone.

Nia seems to be moving up in CatCo too, as Andrea assigns her to cover Lex's trial alongside William.

Fun stuff, predictions and opinions under the cut.

Fun Stuff

Lex's cross-examination of Lena at the trial parallels the famous courtroom scene in A Few Good Men, the movie this episode's title is based on. In A Few Good Men, the scene culminates with Daniel Kaffee asking, "Did you order the code red?" and Col. Jessep responding, "You're goddamn right I did!" In A Few Good Women, Lena asks, "So you think you can just take credit for my work?" and Lex responds, "You're damn right I can!"

Silas canonically has a husband, leading to a lovely 100% gay scene between Alex, Kelly, and Silas. The gays are winning.

The captions and Netflix episode titles spell Eve's surname "Tessmacher," but it's usually spelled "Teschmacher," so... I don't know what's up there.

Predictions

I think next episode, Kara and the Super Friends are going to make contact and almost break Kara out, but fail.

Lillian has been on Lena's side all through episodes 1 and 2. I don't think Lillian will ever fully join the Super Friends, but I can see her helping them out sometimes and definitely continuing to support Lena.

Now that we know both of Kara's parents are alive, Kara and Zor-El might go to Argo City permanently at the end of the series.

Opinions

I was pleasantly surprised by this episode! It hit a lot of the right places emotionally, and it built on character development from season 5 in a surprisingly well-put-together way. I was specifically impressed with Lena's bold decision to put herself on the line—against Lex, may I add—for the greater good. Lena taking accountability for her actions and choosing to do the right thing has been building for a long time now, so it's nice to see that arc come to a head. Eve's testimony also felt like a culmination of her turmoil over the last two seasons, and it was powerfully delivered!

The one confusion I had was how Lex got cleared of all charges with so much evidence against him. I guess they wanted to keep him as the main villain, which... I'm torn on. On the one hand, he's a good villain and Jon Cryer absolutely brings it, but on the other hand, I'm kind of tired of him by now? Some new blood would be nice. Maybe some delegate villains like Lillian had in season 2.

I was also surprised that they didn't include Alex telling Kelly about Kara's secret identity, but I kind of get it. Kelly's 1) already working closely with the DEO / Supergirl and 2) super understanding, so the scene wouldn't showcase any sort of change or progress. Still, it's weird that they didn't even mention it.

I think Kara's character is going exactly where it's been leading: still a paragon of hope, still unwilling to back down, but far more grounded in herself and in reality. Supergirl, but adult Supergirl. I loved her (short) hope speech to Zor-El. I didn't think she was going to get a major storyline in the Phantom Zone, so that's exciting!

Also: *chanting* Rojascorp. Rojascorp. Rojascorp. They had vibes, y'all.

Rating: 8.5/10 Purple Line: "The House of El is meant for more than that." Final Word: They're doing it right!

You can find all my recaps here.

[nosferatchoo]

George likes boys

3,700 words

After George Weasley is introduced to one of his younger brother’s male classmates, he begins questioning his sexuality. He can’t ignore his feelings anymore, after they find themselves alone in detention, having to clean the Herbology greenhouses together.

This is a He/him pronoun Y/N fic, mostly fluff and angst until the last chapter.

WARNING contains; 18+ smut, strong language, LGBT themes [if you’re not into that], gay angst and yearning [if you’re not in the mood for that]

Smut in part 10 if you want to skip to that part, because same.

Prologue

Y/N is a third-year student at Hogwarts in [Your house]. With the Dementors guarding the grounds, they’re unable to wander, so he’s meeting his friends after a class in the Great Hall before lunch. First out the door, satchel swung around his arm, he strides through the hallway towards the staircase that leads down to the hall, shoes clicking on each step.

1] Great Hall

Walking into the Great Hall, Y/N scans the tables, spotting his friends near the front. Strutting towards them he’s stopped by a familiar voice, “y/n, Y/N!” turning to see Ron gesturing towards him, Y/N lifts his eyebrow in query. “You’ve got the notes for Potions class, haven’t you?”

“From this morning or?” Y/N asks, taken aback by the arbitrary question.

“Yeah! can I copy it? Please? I’m desperate.” Ron pleads.

“Honestly Ron! maybe if you actually turned up to class, instead of sleeping in, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.” Hermione huffs.

“Maybe if you let me peak at your notes I wouldn’t be in this predicament.” Ron retorts.

Y/N sighs and rummages in his bag, bringing out a slightly battered leather notebook, “yeah mate, go wild.” He says tossing his notebook towards a thankful Ron.

“You shouldn’t pander to him” Hermione huffs, “He’ll never learn.”

“Shove off Mione!” Ron grumbles, as he hurriedly scribbles notes onto his parchment, his quill working with an impressive speed, although, no accuracy.

“You even going to be able to read that?” Y/N smirks, as he takes a seat on the opposite side of the table next to Harry, waiting for Ron to finish his scribing.

“Ah yeah, crystal clear.” Ron answers, eyes dashing between the parchment and the page.

Hermione stretches over to inspect Ron’s frantic lettering, “Is that even English?” she said before returning to her reading.

“Of course it is Hermione!” Fred appears behind Ron, “but it’s in code, nobody else can understand Ron’s writing but him”, he’s followed leisurely by Lee and George who adds, “That’s so none of the Professors can tell if he’s actually done the assignment or not.” snickering to Lee Jordan as they surround Ron who’s still frantically copying the notes, now somewhat more hurried, anticipating his older brother’s intervention.

2] George’s POV

Fred nudged George as they entered the hall, a panicked Ron was frantically scribbling, obviously trying to complete some last minuet assignment. Fred gleefully shuffles to Ron, “…It’s in code, nobody else can understand Ron’s writing but him” is what George hears Fred say as he saunters over to join him to taunt their little brother.

“That’s so none of the Professors can tell if he’s actually done the assignment or not.” He adds snickering to Lee, who joins in with the sniggering, but doesn’t add to their mocking. The three boys sit surrounding Ron, Fred shuffles in between him and Hermione, wrapping his arm around Ron before mockingly taking interest in his writing. “So, what have we got here?” he asks, leaning in for exaggerated dramatics.

“Ron’s been sleeping through class, and now he’s having to copy notes before Snape realises and gives him detention.” Hermione exclaims, securing a smirk from Fred.

“I’m sure Snape doesn’t mind Ron skipping classes, He probably prefers it.” George shares, earning a chuckle from the opposite side of the table. His gaze is diverted to the unfamiliar boy sitting with his brothers’ friends. Momentarily, George is entranced by the way the boys face beamed as he laughed, George’s stomach knotted as a warm smile grew on his captivated expression, luckily everyone was too busy coming up with jokes at Ron’s expense to notice that George had hardly taken a breath in several seconds. Although, the first person to look his way was the unfamiliar boy, who’s casual glance at George snapped him from his daze, and he quickly diverted his eyes to calm his heating cheeks from revealing his sudden odd need to stare at this [your house] boy.

They sat huddled around Ron for a few moments before he finished his notes and handed Y/N his book, thanking him as he left.

3] Gryffindor dorm and torment

Later that night George lay in bed unable to pull his thoughts away from the encounter with Y/N in the Great Hall. Flashes of his smile accompanied the echoes of his words in his mind. He hadn’t said anything particularly interesting that encouraged such contemplation, but the way he said them, the almost mumbled drone of his voice soothed George, calming his racing chest when he visualised the point on Y/N’s teeth when he laughed. He thought of how cute his smile was, before blushing that he thought to describe him as cute. He remembered the way Y/N’s hair fell, gripping his own red locks, wishing his hair didn’t fall into his eyes all the time, or that it looked as soft as his did. George spent several moments wondering how it would feel to run his hands through Y/N’s hair, before he realised, he was thinking about running his hands affectionately through another boys hair, and promptly removed all his thoughts with a heavy sigh.

What would it be like to… he stopped his thoughts before they started and rolled into his pillows, submerging himself under his blanket in an unproductive attempt to get to sleep.

4] Prank gone wrong

I have to talk to him, George thought as he and Fred set up the days prank. They stood one side of the hallway, gesturing to Lee on the other.

While they’re waiting for Flitch, George scans the adjoining courtyard for him or an equally vicious cat scoping the grounds. Instead, George spots a familiar [your house] walking towards them. Taking his opportunity George whispers a call to Fred, gesturing that he was going around the corner, before perching himself in the doorway, meeting Y/N with a mischievous smile. He couldn’t miss this opportunity to say hello to his new obsession, because although he won’t admit it to anyone, he hadn’t thought of much else but this moment, where they’d meet again, since their meeting yesterday. He seems cool, George thought, we could be friends. Although if he’d shared these thoughts with anyone, they might have enlightened him to him wanting to be more than friends, but George had never felt like this for a boy before and was uncharacteristically ignorant.

“Hey! You’re my brother’s friend?” George called to him, knowing exactly who he was.

“Yeah, kind of,” Y/N answered, slowing his pace to talk to the curious Gryffindor.

“You were helping him with class, right?” George proposed, unfortunately he didn’t know that much about him to have many avenues for conversations, without resorting to talking about the weather (but it was Scotland, so there was only so many times you could mention the rain).

“Yeah!” he answered with forced conviction, trying to remember the reason he’d sat briefly with the Gryffindors yesterday, “He’d missed potions.”

“If you’re good, maybe you could tutor me sometime?” George

“Are you that bad that you need help from a third year?” Y/N smirks. Eliciting a chuckle from George.

Although now oblivious to the prank, George hadn’t noticed when Professor Sprout had come around the corner after being caught in the prank. His brother and best friend had already fled, leaving him at the scene of the crime.Professor Sprout covered in the markings of a Weasley prank stood idly before the two boys noticed her there. “Weasley!” she bellowed.

“Professor…” he answered defeated, being all too familiar with the professors saying his name in that tone.

“And Mr [Y/L/N]?” She gasped, eyeing the two boys accusatorily.

“What, no?” they both replied in a harmony. Although, it was too late, Professor Sprout giving them both detention.

5] Detention

To George’s frustration Y/N left heatedly, with them not meeting again until the following evening, where they met to clean the Herbology Greenhouse’s. Y/N didn’t meet him in a particularly better mood, still irritated by the unwarranted detention.

Professor Sprout had left them to clean by themselves, so while alone together George tried to salvage the situation best he could. Although, any attempts at a casual conversation seemed to irritate Y/N further. On the bright side Y/N’s anger had them finish the work quicker than expected. But this meant that George had less time to try and smooth things over with Y/N. Unfortunately, his newest attempt to talk to Y/N ended with a pile of pots strewn across the floor and them both scrambling to pick them up.

“Look!” Y/N barked, “I’m not particularly interested in small talk for the sake of filling the silence, I just want to get this done, so I can leave!”

George’s expression dropped. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go.

6] Enemies to Lovers

“I didn’t mean to get you in trouble,” George bargained, “I just wanted to talk to you” he admitted

“You could have picked a better time to start a conversation with me.” Y/N sighs, he knew it wasn’t George’s fault, he’d just hated getting detention, obviously. But specifically, he took pride in not getting caught in his antics, so getting caught in somebody else’s shoddy work irritated him to a higher degree.

“Yeah, sorry.” George exhaled. It wasn’t the chat he wanted to have, but at least he wasn’t mad at him anymore.

“I’d have thought you’d be better at not getting detention at this point anyway,” Y/N declared, “Doing pranks is your thing isn’t it?” he clarified. “So, I imagined you wouldn’t be this easy to catch.” he says with a cocky grin at George, making his cheeks flush.

“Apparently not,” George answers, “I’ll have to work on it.”

“I can’t help you with Potions, but maybe I could give you tips on being more inconspicuous.” Y/N boasted.

“You? What do you know about not getting caught?” George tittered.

“You’ve never seen me in detention before, have you?” Y/N offered in response, “This one excluded, obviously…” he smiled bashfully.

“I knew there was something about you I liked” George expressed with a slight smile, as he picked up the plant pots.

“You like me?” Y/N jokes,

“I… uh!” George’s eyes grew large as the breath noticeably left his body.

Y/N stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised at his reaction, “you like me?” he repeated, now with a completely different meaning.

“I mean… I thought… when I saw you yesterday-” George stumbled.

“I didn’t think you liked boys?” Y/N acknowledged.

George’s body stiffened at the admission, “I don’t I-”

“You doknow I’m a boy?” Y/N’s eye’s narrowed waiting for his response.

“Yeah, but you’re like… small and cute,” Y/N’s eyebrows rose at this admission as George hastily continued, “I mean, feminine, kind of, so it makes sense that I would find you attractive?” George stammers in a single breath.

“Or you just want to suck my dick mate, there’s no shame in that,” Y/N answered with the chuckle, his words catching George’s breath in a hitch. “Besides, I’m not small, you’re just a giant.” He says passively, choosing to ignore the feminine comment.

George stood quieter after that. He enjoyed seeing George flustered, it was a welcomed interaction with the boy that always annoyingly had some kind of sarcastic retort.

They sat in each other’s company for a while. The anticipation building in Y/N’s chest as he peeks over at the abnormally quiet red head, the thoughts racing behind his eyes. It usually wasn’t good when a Weasley was quiet for too long.

After a few moments of silence Y/N finished his task and began walking towards the door, “see you la-”

“Wait-” George calls. Before he realised, he’d moved, George was towering over Y/N, trapping him between his arms. “Are you going to leave before giving me a kiss,” George moved one of his hands to cup Y/N’s face, tracing up his body before holding his thumb under the shorter boys chin, lifting it to face him, as he hunched down to lessen the space between them.

Y/N stood breathless in George’s grasp, eliciting a smirk from the older boy, accompanied by a darkening gaze as he waited for a response. George moved his free hand, stroking Y/N’s back, before pushing their bodies closer together. Y/N’s hands grip George’s shirt as he falls into him. They both stare longingly, neither daring to close the space between them, but both drawing into each other.

“Georgie! You done yet?” a muffled shout calls from behind the door, the two boys jump apart before Fred strides in, “Me and Lee are going to-” the two boys heavy breaths distracting them from hearing Fred’s rambling. But stolen glances were the only indicators that they weren’t listening, as they both tried to regain composure.

*The twins leave*

Y/N’s head spinning, he feels the ghosted stain of George’s touch, the imprint of his fingers tracing his neck, his jawline, his thumb along his spine. He reminisces on the echo of his joke earlier, you just want to suck my dick mate, mortified, he sighs the air into his chest, he was definitely projecting earlier, but now the thought of Georges lips on his body, any part of his body, made his head spin.

7] Can I have him for Breakfast?

The next morning Y/N was dreading walking into the Great Hall for breakfast and facing the cause of his sleepless night. Y/N’s mind had been racing from the encounter with George, and with what (in an ideal world where he had an abundance of confidence, and no shame) he would do next time he saw him. He imagined the way he would go up to Weasley and fall into a passionate, clothes ripping, breathless embrace. These were the images that plagued his thoughts, all until the drole of students in the hall brought him out of his daydreams, the smell of toast waking his consciousness like smelling salts.

He cautiously walks to the [your house] table, scanning the room for a crowd of red hair, but he couldn’t see the red head he wanted. After uninterestedly biding his time with a selection of toast and wizard branded cereal, an echo of obnoxious laughter catches his attention to the group of mostly Gryffindor Quidditch players and Lee Jordan sauntering in. Y/N briefly caught the eye of one of their Beaters before quickly diverting his stare. It would seem he wasn’t going to be able to act on his fantasy’s if only a look from George made him blush this severely. He also in that moment questioned the affections of his friends, considering the extent of how he was going red, and that nobody had realised.

George sat at the Gryffindor table, within direct eyeline to Y/N, which didn’t help his distraction. Looking over at George, all Y/N could think was how he wanted to go over there and grab his stupid face into a kiss. This inclination was not reduced by the way George occasionally glanced over with a smirk, checking he was still getting the attention he wanted from Y/N. The two spent all Breakfast sneaking looks at each other from across the hall.

Y/N observed the Gryffindor boy in a way he hadn’t before. His smile as he laughed made Y/N cheeks heat up, and he couldn’t remove his eyes every time George brushed his hair out of his face, wishing those hands were touching him instead. He kept a fixated stare on the Gryffindor, daring him to take another look, to tease him with another smirk. Y/N’s gaze fell to his neck. His mind wandered through the ways he wanted to kiss it, taste it, to bite it, when George looked up suddenly. He meet Y/N’s stare before getting up and nodding his head ordering Y/N to follow him. George strode out by himself, not looking back, leaving Y/N’s heart racing as his mind raced trying to think of an inconspicuous reason to leave Breakfast early.

“Pee!” Is all he mustered before racing out of his chair to the door. In reflection, that was a great excuse for why he was in such a hurry to leave.

Y/N barely made a turn out of the door, before he bumped into Weasley, and by that, I mean literally, as the air slightly leaves him after his body falls into the towering red head. He looks up at the giggling Gryffindor, “Morning…” George smiles between hushed laughter.

“Hey.” Y/N answers, slightly off balance.

“Come with me?” George asks, Y/N nodding with a distant expression, still dazed from his daydreams of kissing Weasley’s neck that was now within his vantage point. But Y/N followed George as he walked seemingly aimlessly through the castle hallways.

8] Meet me in the corridor

The hallways were quiet as everyone was either sleeping in or having breakfast. Y/N and George walked through the empty corridors side by side, slightly diverting their eyes whenever their eyes met, but both desperately trying to catch a peak at the other. They both resisted the urge to touch the other, to lace their fingers together, or to entirely embrace.

The two boys turn a corner after walking through an empty courtyard, George finally takes the opportunity to grab Y/N, pressing him into one of the arched indents of the wall (which were prominent in the Hogwarts architecture). George hunches over to meet Y/N’s face, a slither of air caught between them, as they both place their hands around the other, embraced with a now familiar tension, they dared each other to close the space between them. Eyes locked in a stare, other than lustful glances at the other boy’s lips. Neither knew who moved first, but with a sudden motion their lips finally met, with them gripping each other’s jumpers, gasping for air in between forceful kisses. Y/N grasped George’s hair, pulling him closer, causing a whimpered moan to vibrate from George’s lips.

The clank of a door snapped them both into reality. Separating from the embrace, breathlessly laughing to each other in respite. Stealing a short kiss before continuing their stroll around the castle, one of many more stolen secret kisses in the corridors of Hogwarts.

9] Study buddy

[the smut starts here whores]

The two boys have been dating in secret, finding excuses to sneak off together, luckily George was familiar with the secret passageways in Hogwarts, and made sure to personally introduce Y/N to all of them.

After classes, George meet’s Y/N in the library under the guise of studying. It was safe to say George had been spending twice the more time studying than usual, so he had to confide his true motives to Fred, who was eagerly supportive.

Y/N sat in a fairly dark corner of the library, he’d taken off his jumper and tie shortly after sitting down and had a selection of books spread across an Oak table, passively taking notes in his beaten-up notebook.

George strolls through the library stacks, spotting his boyfriend down the end of the third row of the Herbology section. He studied him before approaching, admiring the way he scrunched his nose when reading. George ruffled Y/N’s hair to gain his attention, before draping his arms around him and slithered himself behind Y/N on his chair, enveloping him in an embrace.

George held Y/N in his grasp, arms wrapped around his centre, he nestled his face into Y/N’s neck, his hands along his torso restlessly playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You missed me?” Y/N snickered, getting a muffled moan in agreement from George.

They sat peacefully for a while, Y/N reading and sporadically taking notes, as George held onto him. Peacefully until the long stokes of George’s fingers began to fall lower down his torso. One arm now wrapped around Y/N’s waist, holding him in place, George’s other hand gripped and stoked Y/N’s thigh.

As his breath began deepening, he scanned the room for anyone who could see them, luckily it was quiet where they were. “George…” is all Y/N could muster as his brain began to fog. George’s response was a strong kiss on his neck, then a smirk at the whimpered reaction it elicited from his boyfriend. Y/N melted into George’s hold. As the red head traced kisses along his neck, he also traced his fingers along the waistline of his boyfriend’s trousers, effortlessly unbuttoning and zipping his pant, opening it in a singular motion.

“George!” Y/N gasped.

George moaning a mumbled “yes?” in between increasingly tougher motions on his neck.

“We can’t here!” Y/N whimpered, “someone will-” he was cut off by a gasp, as George reached under his zip to pets his fingers over the growing bulge of his underwear. Y/N gulped down a moan as George motioned his long fingers around his growing distraction. “You’re not very good study partner,” Y/N asserts breathily.

“You were looking stressed…” George chuckles, as he begins stroking him. “…And I’m here as emotional support.” he smirked before returning to his neck. Y/N’s muffled moans sparked George’s own hardness. Through panted breath Y/N shifted, feeling George harden against him, he reached behind him to run his hand along him in a returned motion. George bit into Y/N’s neck as he gripped him, supressing a groan. The two boys battled to keep quiet, as the other relentlessly strove to elicit a whimper or a breathy swear from each other.

“George…” Y/N whimpered as quietly as he could manage. “I’m going to cuh-um” he said between hitched breaths. To Y/N’s distress, George completely stopped his motion and removed his hand from his trousers. “Georgie?” Y/N questioned with almost a betrayed expression.

George pulled away from the seat they shared, getting up, before falling to his knees and hunching himself under the table.

“Georgie?” Y/N exasperated, once again conscious that they were in the library. “What are you-?” he said scanning for onlookers.

George positioned himself between Y/N’s legs, fully releasing him from his underwear, exposing him before beginning to work his tongue along the shaft.

“Cum for me.” George orders, taking Y/N fully into his mouth.

Y/N muffled his moans and George’s eyes fluttered every time he choked on the length. It didn’t take long before that feeling in Y/N’s stomach returned, and he began whimpering George’s name. With a final groan Y/N released into George’s mouth, gasping for air as George gulped, his lips not leaving his shaft until he’d swallowed every last drop. Breathing heavily when he released, George gave him a final lick, before emerging from under the table, lifting to kiss his dazed boyfriend through a smug smile.

Fin

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Six):Burnt Offering

Notes: So, given that the last chapter was kind of short, at least by my standards. I decided to go ahead and post the next chapter this month. We're starting to near the point where what I post and where I'm at in writing are meeting up, I have chapter 7 done and am currently about halfway through writing 8,  so don't be shocked if we end up with a slowdown in chapters like what's had to happen with my other fic series. It just happens, such is life. 

Word Count: 9243

Chapter Warnings: Blood, Domestic Violence, Alcoholism, POV Switches, Talks of the Testicle Festival,

For chapter one and the warnings about this fics overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

The cruiser door shuts with a heavy thud, followed by Rook’s boots hitting the asphalt. Staci stifles a laugh, the newest addition to the Sheriff’s Department has a pea sized bladder and a penchant for guzzling energy drinks like an idiot. He’s had to pull into the Golden Valley Gas Station for her to run off to the bathroom, again.

His joints pop and crack as he gets out of the car, taking the chance to stretch his legs. The sun hangs high and bright in the great blue sky, warming his skin as rolls his shoulders to get out the kinks. It’s nearly noon and if he has to be here, he might as well find something to eat, the door of the gas station chiming as he walks in. He looks over the hot food options, garbage mostly, but tasty garbage. Hamburgers, pizza, hot dogs-

“You getting lunch?”

Staci jumps at the sudden question, a voice over his shoulder that he wasn’t ready for catches him off guard. A soft laugh as he turns to look at Rook who’s just scared him, sometimes she’s like a bull in a china shop and other times she’s silent as the grave. He can’t keep up and ends up glaring at the smirking woman. She finds way too much enjoyment in his misery, she’s the probie, he’s supposed to be giving her shit not the other way around.

“Someone needs to put a fuckin’ bell on you, I swear.”

“I thought you could ‘hear me coming a mile away’,” she says trying to imitate his voice when he mocked her earlier.

“That was then, this is now, and right now, you’re a sneaky bitch.”

He can’t resist the chance to wipe that dumb little smirk off her face and grabs her cheek between his fingers, stretching the soft tan skin. A small sharp pain in his wrist when she smacks him away, but it’s more than worth it to see her looking a little less cocky.

“Bite me.” She says and knocks against his side as she grabs a hamburger, nearly throwing him off balance.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Ew.” Rook grimaces at his little attempt at flirting, like an asshole. Then again, with her, she may not realize he was trying to flirt.

He grabs himself one and follows after her to the drinks, he watches her line of vision immediately go to the large sized slushie cups. They’re nearly the size of the short deputy’s head.

“No,” he tells her, voice low with warning, he already has to worry about pulling over  for her constantly.

“What?”

“You drink that and you’re gonna be needing twelve more bathroom trips before our shift ends.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You nearly pissed yourself, five minutes ago.”

“I’ll be fine.” Rook rolls her eyes as she fills up the giant cup with blue slush. No matter what he says, he swears she’d break her neck just to do the opposite.

They buy their lunches, if it can even be called that, and leave the gas station. The weather’s too nice to eat in the cruiser, a soft breeze and a clear sky to eat under instead.  Staci instead sits on the trunk of the car, balancing his drink on his thigh as he eats. Rook follows his lead, for once since she’s been here, and sits down on the car as well. She pulls one of her legs up onto the car and under her, keeping her drink in hand.

It’s quiet as they eat, but unlike the awkward still of when they first started patrolling together, this silence is surprisingly pleasant.  Staci has never liked quiet, making those first patrols painful to sit through, but their time spent in silence has grown more bearable with every shift.

Rook is weird, but not bad; he’s decided. She’s quiet and serious, especially so at the start. But, she never misses a chance to talk back or give him hell, which might be his own fault.  She’s dedicated to the job and never seems to shy away from what it entails, only ever seeming bothered by the work when she was stuck pushing papers.  Despite her constant scowling and resting bitch face, Rook is eager to help people.

He doesn’t know much about her, which is only natural with her short time with the department and her lackluster communicative skills. She likes her job, Hudson, animals, and giving him hell. She hates crowds, churches, and talking. That’s about all he’s got. And dress codes he guesses? Though since the Drubman incident she’s stuck with modest tanks and tees under her uniform, other than buttoning it up, it’s the same damn thing. Hell, even Hudson and him don’t button it up all the way. 

When she was first hired, the week separating her hire and her actual first day, he asked Whitehorse what he was thinking when he hired someone so young. The sheriff just laughed, saying she had a good heart. He supposes her jumping to help Mary May the day of her interview was proof of that.

There are a lot of reasons why people become cops, not all of them necessarily good or right. Staci himself is exhibit A of that. He’s always been honest with himself and others that he became a cop to get laid, it was nothing short of a whim. Something women are attracted to and didn’t require too much education, so he could avoid debt. No ideas of helping people or delusions of keeping the peace; he chose his career based entirely on the prospect of getting his dick wet.

Hudson is better than him in that regard, well, in many regards but that’s beside the point. But, her choice mostly stems from her family. Almost everyone in her family has had a career in either the military or law enforcement. Her mom is a veteran and her dad a veteran turned police officer, retiring early due to injury.  One of her brothers works as an officer in Billings and the other currently in basic training. It only seemed natural she’d follow one of those paths, becoming a cop because it’s what they do in her family. A fact she’s always taken pride in. 

Danny, not to speak ill of the dead, was probably a hall monitor in high school. He was a stickler for details and rules, he enjoyed being the one enforcing order. But Staci isn’t confident that Danny enjoyed it because he believed in what was best for the public so much as he liked rules for the sake of rules and being the one to crack the whip. It’s strange to say after so many years of butting heads, but Staci misses that asshole. It hit Joey hardest, Danny being her partner, but it hit him too. Danny was with the station since before him or Joey were hired on, for him to just be gone one day… Hope County is a sleepy little place, it can be easy to forget how dangerous this kind of job can be when speeding and hunting violations are the biggest crimes. Danny was a grim reminder and hopefully, the last one Staci will ever get.

“That’s gonna fall,” Rook’s voice cuts through the quiet, her finger pointed at the drink balanced on Staci’s thigh.

“It’s fine,” he dismisses her out of hand, and she rolls her eyes, sunlight making the brown look nearly gold. 

She’s cute, it’s something he’s had to admit, as much as he’d rather not. While he’s always been a bit of a womanizer, it still feels weird acknowledging he’s attracted to his newly acquired pain in the ass. But…Rook is real easy on the eyes. Even with her constant sourpuss of a face, she's cute. Though the rare times he’s seen her smile… It’s a good look on her.  Hell, it's a good enough look that he asked her out on an impromptu date to the F.A.N.G Center the moment he saw it. Though that ended up being botched; the Junior Deputy inviting Joey along and then abandoning them partway through the day.

He’s gotten to spend hardly any time with her outside of work, between that and her never tagging along to The Spread Eagle, a part of him has to wonder if she just doesn’t want to deal with him when she doesn’t have to. God knows, it’s not Hudson, he’s pretty sure Rook would break her neck to spend more time with Joey.

Staci’s mind is drawn back to Rook’s dismissal of his mild flirting, she seemed uncomfortable with Adelaide’s more…forward tendencies too. But there’s no denying she has a huge annoying crush on Joey. Her face going redder than a lobster anytime the two are near each other. He’s asking her on dates without even meaning to and he’s not even sure what way she swings.

“So, what’s your deal?” He decides to just ask, it might be a long shot, but no harm in seeing if he has a chance. Right?

“My deal with what?” She raises an eyebrow and takes another slurp of her drink.

“Well, I know you’re into women; so are you gay?” Rook chokes on her slushie, blue dribbling down her chin as he continues, “Bi? Pan?”  

“What the fuck, dude?!” She yells, scrubbing her slushie covered hand against her jeans, her blue stained tongue catching his eye as she freaks out.

“It’s just a question.”

“A real fuckin’ personal one.” Her face is a vivid red, making her blue chin and tongue stand out even brighter.

“What? You worried ‘cause, ya know, Montana?”

“No, I’m not worried because of that.”

“Good, because I promise you most people here don’t give a fuck.”

“No, it’s not, I just don’t like talking…”

“You can honestly stop that sentence right there.”

“Pff,” she lets out a soft laugh and the corner of her mouth curves up as she says in a gentler voice, “I don’t like talking.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He gives her the out and she groans.

“Look, dude, not that it’s any of your business but I barely know what the fuck’s going on in my own head. If I can’t figure that shit out, how the hell am I supposed to explain it?”

“I know you like Hudson.”

“Yeah, I do… I can’t say I’m not attracted to men? I don’t think, I’ve thought men are attractive. I just, women catch my eye more,” she shrugs, face still red, “though I don’t know if that’s because of me or ‘cause of the….selection here.”

“What do you mean?”

She glares at him, dark eyebrows furrowed as if she’s trying to figure out if he’s serious while she slurps on her slushie. He can nearly see the gears in her head desperately trying to turn.

“Dude, seriously?” She asks raises an eyebrow when he doesn’t budge.

“Seriously, you make it sound like the men here are drooling apes.”

“Women in Hope County.”

Rook points out a woman stepping out of her car, long tanned legs and daisy duke shorts.

“Men in Hope County.”

She gestures towards a man at the gas pumps, bent over with his jeans half falling off his ass with plumber crack on display for the world.

It’s his turn to choke, pop catching in his windpipe as her sputters and gags on his laugh, leg jerking and sending his entire drink falling into his lap.

“Jesus fuck,” he manages to cough out as cola soaks his crotch.

“Told you it was gonna fall.”

“At least I don’t look like I blew a Smurf.”

“Fuck off.” She roughly shoves him as they both laugh.

“So, all us Hope County men are just too ugly for you?” He says with mock hurt in his voice as he stands from the trunk, walking around the cruiser.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“No, no, I get it, I mean, how could anyone stand to even look at me.”

“What do you want from me?” She’s glaring at him now from over the cruiser, each at their respective doors as they talk.

“Nah, it’s my cross to bear, I have to learn how to deal with being hideous.”

“I mean, we can always get you a paper bag.” Her face breaks into a smile and she starts laughing halfway through her own joke, blue tongue pressing against her canines.

“Wow, fuckin’ wow, just double down.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I’m sorry,” she rolls her eyes, face still flushed from laughing, “for what it’s worth, you’re one of the more attractive guys in Hope County.”

“Thank you,” Staci can’t help but genuinely smile, between the compliment and her expression, something about the moment settles warm in his chest.

“Which is kinda like being a tall dwarf.”

“Fuck you,” his outburst makes her laugh and he can’t help but laugh right along with her, “you can’t let me have anything can you?”

“Nope.”

They’re still smiling, stomachs and cheeks aching as they climb into the cruiser. He turns the key and starts up the engine, pulling them out of the parking lot. The soft tapping of Rook’s finger against the door is the only sound as they drive through the valley. She’s always moving, he’s not sure he’s ever seen her completely still.

The cola on his jeans has barely started to dry by the time the radio starts to crackle, dispatch putting out a call.

“Units please respond, we have a domestic disturbance at the Ramsey Residence, neighbor reported yelling coming from the home and threats of violence.”

The Ramsey place is about fifteen or twenty minutes out from where Benjamin and Julie live. They’re familiar with the Sheriff’s department. He hates to sound so jaded and cynical, but they’ve done this song and dance so many times.  Benjamin has been an abusive drunk since as long as Staci’s lived in Hope County. No matter how many times they cuff and drag him away; Julie refuses to press charges, bails him out, and welcomes him back with open arms. It’s an endless cycle and Hope County doesn’t have the resources to break it. With that in mind, he grabs the receiver.

“Deputy Pratt and Hale responding, over.”

He flips on the sirens, lights flashing and the speaker squealing as they rush towards the Ramsey house. Tires spitting up gravel as he drives along the backroads, following them to the old farmhouse. It was once a beautiful house, he’s sure, but it’s started to fall apart over the years. The white paint peeling and the wood of the porch starting to rot away.

There’s a tension in the air as the deputies get out of the cruiser, grass crushing underfoot as they make their way to the home. Despite being Staci’s subordinate as far as standing in the department goes, Rook is in front of him and taking the lead. Not because he wants her too; she just does that.

The porch lets out a loud creak when the junior deputy takes a step, straining under her weight. That doesn’t bode well for him, while not a particularly heavy guy, he’s over a foot taller than Rook and fit. She may have muscle mass, but he’s sure he still weighs more at the end of the day. 

“You might wanna be careful,” she warns him, standing next to the door, clearly having gone through the same thought process as him.

“Yeah, this porch has seen better days.”

It strains and creaks, echoing a louder under him as he takes the steps up. Then his foot goes through the porch. He curses as he starts to fall through, broken rotted wood splintering into his jeans and boot. A hand wraps around his wrist, Rook steadying him as gets his bearings. He grips the railing as he his rips his foot back out of the wood; breaking and ripping apart boards with the force of it. The smell of mildew, rotted lumber, and muck getting kicked up from it.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He has to shift back onto the steps that were able to hold him, he could step over or around the broken gap, but the chances of it just breaking through again are high. Rook lets go of his wrist once he’s on stable footing and turns back to the door. She knocks on the door three times, before calling out.

“Hope County Sheriff’s department, we got a call, just here to make sure everything’s okay.”

There’s no response, of course they’re in no rush to open the door for police. A beat of silence  and then something breaks from inside the home, like glass crashing to the ground.

“You ever deal with them before?” Rook asks as she tries to open the door, but it’s locked.

“Plenty, he always has to be taken kicking and screaming. ”  

“Is he dangerous?” She’s slid a pick into the door lock, twisting and turning it. Why the hell does she know how to pick locks?

“Only to his wife, every time I’ve dealt with him, he’s no worse than a drunk toddler.”

“Hmm,” she nods in understanding, “go around back and see if there’s a back door or something, we can’t take anyone out this way. I’ll head in.”

“Since when do you give the orders, probie?”

“Pratt,” she says his name like a warning, just as the door clicks open. She’s right and he Staci knows that, but that doesn’t mean he has to like being bossed around by the probie he’s supposed to be teaching the ropes.

He waves her off and goes walking around the house, all this trouble and splinters in his shin over some damn drunk who should have been locked away years ago. There’s a set of concrete stairs up to the backdoor, not attached, but sturdier than forty-year-old rotted wood. He shakes the backdoor and finds it’s locked, because of course it is.

Staci slams his shoulder against the door as he hard as he can, putting all of his weight into it. The lock and frame give out from the force, a boom and splintering sound ringing out.

“Fuck!”

It’s Rook’s voice, no mistaking it, a groan of pain punctuating the curse. Staci’s blood runs cold and he runs into the house; feet hitting the floor in heavy thuds as he runs to where he heard the sound. Nearly tripping over himself as he enters the living room.

Adrenaline coursing through him, Staci recognizes two figures instantly as he enters. Ben Ramsey standing over a curled up figure dressed in the familiar green of their uniform, blood is on the carpet, soaking it through.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! What’d he do? What did that son of bitch do to her?

From his angle, Ben’s back to him, Pratt can’t make out anything other than her fallen body. He can’t tell if she’s breathing, if she’s moving, where the blood is coming from, if she’s even alive.

Words stick in his throat and his mind only spins curses, his hand pauses, body frozen. Only a moment in reality, but in eternity to Staci; just enough time for the old drunk to pull his leg back and slam a boot into the young deputy on the ground. A sickening crack and curse from the young woman.

And for the first in his career, Staci pulls his gun out. It may be too quick of a move and maybe in the hours after he’ll think of how he should have gone for the baton or taser, but his hand is on his gun. Pointed at another human being. There’s a shake to his hands.

“Ben Ramsey, you’re under, under arrest! Put your hands up!” His words stall for a moment and he curses himself for the way fear seeps into his voice at the worst times.

“Fuck you-“

His words are cut off by a yell, Ben’s body convulsing for a second before he hits the ground with a heavy thud. Rook taser in hand moving as it happens, quickly cuffing him, and Staci can breathe again. He’s not going back to the station alone. The side of her head is stained with blood, hair matted in it, her left eye shut and that half of her face red. Her nose and lip are busted open, blood streaking down her chin.  She’s hurt, but she’s alive. His head is swimming, drops his grip on his weapon, his shoulder aching and making him realize just how tense he was. He’s not even certain his finger was on the trigger, he realizes as he holsters the thankfully unused gun.  Her lips move over and over again, but the words don’t cut through the fog of his brain until another moment passes.

“Pratt, radio backup, now!” Her hands are on the man’s cuffed wrists, keeping him in place on the ground, subdued for the moment as the man’s thankfully still dazed from the shock.

He’s hesitated, his delay to grab his radio no doubt wasting precious seconds. Why does he always fucking hesitate? He’s tripping over his words as he talks, because of course he is.

“Officer Pratt, we need backup and, and emergency services to the Ramsey house, immediately. Officer injured, suspect is belligra-belligerent and dangerous.”

“Suspect’s wife is injured as well.”

There’s more than three people in the room, Julie Ramsey curled up in a ball beside the couch, sobbing desperately at the entire scene. He didn’t even notice, fuck, he fucking hell.  He gives the exact address and gets confirmation that someone is coming.  Staci crouches down, closer to Rook’s level where she’s kneeling next to the suspect, he’s able to get a better look at Rook’s injury. He can smell beer, both from the suspect and from her head, shards of brown glass clinging to the blood-soaked skin. He bashed a beer bottle over her head, then kicked her in the face while she was down.

He needs to get something to hold against her head, to help stop the bleeding. Staci’s starts to move to get his overshirt off, thinking it’d be better than nothing, but then sirens screech at them. Police officers for the station and EMTS coming through the house. It’s going to be okay.

No thanks to him. He did nothing. He wants to pull his hair out, scream at himself, why the hell is he this fucking pathetic?

Ben Ramsey is arrested and charged, taken to one of the officer’s police car. Meanwhile Julie and Rook are assessed before being taken to the back of ambulance. Staci follows them, moving on instinct to follow and make sure Rook is okay.

He doesn’t speak the entire way, just grateful to be allowed in the ambulance, he listens as they access her. Lacerations, contusions, possible skull fracture; the words swim around his head as they look her over in the ambulance. He watches as the EMT forces Rook’s left eye open, seeing why it’s been shut, blood vessels damaged across part of the white, red irritation in the other half that goes into the brown, blurring the edge of the iris.

Ideas of her losing vision in that eye flood through his mind, how severe is the damage, could it impact her career? Is she going to be out of here before she’s even finished probationary hire? He was supposed to be looking out for her.

He sits outside her room at the Hope County Clinic, privacy or some sort of doctor crap, he can barely even remember the rest of the ride there. His back against the wall as he sits on the floor, ringing his hands, mind racing through a million possibilities. 

“What the hell happened?” Whitehorse’s voice is what ends the frenetic mess in his head, if only for a second. The presence of the sheriff easing some of his nerves, knowing the older man will be able to handle this, whatever the situation may be.

He scrambles to his feet and explains everything that happened; from the porch falling in, him pulling his weapon but not firing, and an injured Rook having to subdue the suspect. Each word of it making him feel just a bit more pathetic, a bit weaker, he really fucked this up.

Whitehorse squeezes his shoulder, a warm heavy hand to comfort him.

“It’s okay, Pratt. Everything is gonna be fine, Rook’s made of tougher stuff than this.”

He sighs, unsure of how he feels by the statement. It’s meant to comfort him, and it does some part of him. He wants Rook to be okay, fuck does he need her to be okay.  But, Whitehorse’s unwavering faith in her strength, makes him feel all the more pathetic in comparison.

The hospital room door opens, a doctor walking out, looking over at Whitehorse and Staci.

“You can come in now, if you’d like.”

Staci follows behind Whitehorse as they walk into the little clinic room, off white walls and floors greeting them. Rook’s sitting on the side of the white sheeted bed; seeing her cleaned up and moving is instant relief for Staci’s frayed nerves. Her face is bruised, her eye still messed up, but she’s no longer painted red with her own blood. His hands twitch, he realizes he wants to hug her, to pull her close and feel that she’s truly okay. But he can’t find the nerve to do it, unsure of how the young woman would react. 

“So, what’re you dealing with?” Whitehorse asks her and she sighs. 

“Needed some stitches, some glass scratched my cornea so vision in this eye is gonna be a little blurry, but it will heal. Minor skull fracture.” 

“Skull fracture?” Staci can’t help but blurt out, that’s  bad, isn’t it? Skulls are kind of important, being the thing that protects your brain. Why the hell is she just shrugging it off?

“It’s not bad, they don’t do anything for it. My head is gonna hurt like hell for a bit,” she shrugs, “if spinal fluid starts coming out my ears and nose, call 911, though I think that’s the rule for everyone.” 

“Alright,” Whitehorse speaks up, “there’s gonna be some paperwork to take care of with your injury and your time off.” 

“I’m not taking time off.” She’s emphatic, shaking her head like the sheriff is ridiculous to even suggest something like that. 

“I’m not sending you out like this, Rookie, you need to worry about healing up.” 

“You want me to take time off, during my probationary hire, that’s ridiculous.” 

“Don’t stress, it’s not going to affect anything, just take two weeks off-” 

“One week, max.” 

“Fine, one week," Whitehorse gives him with a hefty sigh, "just take it easy. And actually take it easy, not doing anything to hurt yourself in the meantime.” 

“Pfff,” she huffs out a breath and rolls her eyes, hopping up from the bed. 

“We’ll go back to the station and take care of the paperwork.” 

Whitehorse puts a hand on Staci’s back; the other on Rook’s as he walks them out the door. Staci feels exhausted as he gets into Whitehorse’s truck with them, someone having taken the cruiser back to the station for them. His body slackening into dead weight as he leans against the door; his nerves are shot to hell and back, he just wants to collapse after everything. She’s okay and that’s what matters most; his own insecurities be damned. 

They arrive at the station; since it’s regarding just her injury and leave, Staci isn’t needed for the paperwork on this one. He instead waits outside, he’s not sure why, but he doesn’t feel ready to just go home yet. It’s after shift and usually he’d be at The Spread Eagle by now, sipping cheap beer and shooting the shit with Joey. 

Speak of the devil, the older  deputy is coming down the hall, nearly jogging towards him. And he’s wondering if she’s felt the way he did when he heard something happened to Danny, before they told him about the former deputy’s death. That anxiety of knowing something is wrong but not knowing the details, fear building ideas of what could have happened. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

“Rook got hurt, she’s gonna be okay, but, uh, Whitehorse is giving her the week off.” 

“Thank god,” Joey lets out a sigh of relief, tension noticeably leaving her body, “I thought, jesus, I don’t know what I thought.” 

“Yeah, uh, been a rough day…” 

“How you holding up?” 

“I fucking choked, Joey. The asshole was trying to kick her damn brains in and I choked.” 

“You can’t blame yourself,” she tells him, a faraway look in her eye, “I get it, I do, but you can’t blame anyone but the asshole who hurt her.” 

“It's not just that…” He sighs; is he really going to have this conversation? It feels so damn pathetic. 

“So, what is it?” 

“I...don’t worry about it.” 

“Well, I’m certainly not gonna complain about skipping the feely talks. But, uh, for what it’s worth, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Beating yourself up over what you should have done, what you wish you’d have done, is pointless. You do your best in the moment and it’s all you can do.” 

“I guess…” 

“So...how this affect your little crush on Rook?” She asks after a beat of silence, trying to turn the conversation light-hearted.

“Ugh, don’t call it that. The only crush around here is Rook’s on you.” 

“Yeah, right. You got it bad and we both know it.”

“I might have asked her if she’s gay.”

“Seriously, Pratt?” 

“What,” he says halfway through a laugh, “she always follow you around like a puppy dog, I had to make sure I even had a chance.” 

“Well, do you?” 

“Maybe…if she stops crushing on you.” 

“Eh, that’s nothing, she’ll be over it before you know it.” 

“What makes you so sure?” 

“The only reason she’s like that with me is ‘cause she thinks I’m pretty, it’s completely superficial, like a little kid.”

“Well, do me a favor and stop being pretty?” 

“No can do, you just gotta sack up and ask her out.” 

“‘Cause the F.A.N.G Center went so well.” 

“Okay, so ask her out and this time, be specific and talk slow.” 

“She’s oblivious, not brain damaged.” 

“Ehhh, debatable.” 

He thinks for a moment, he likes Rook, he does. She’s cute and spending time with her is nice; being able to tease each other has made his job way less mind numbing. Relationships that go beyond the bedroom have never been his forte; it’s honestly been a while since he’s been on an actual date. But, he thinks it could be nice with her. There’s no telling if they’d actually click romantically, that’s not something you find out until you try it. It could be worth a shot. 

But he thinks about today and thinks about the future for a moment, something he’s not fond of doing. Rook is still on probationary hire; who’s to say she’ll be here after the six month period. He doubts Whitehorse will get rid of her, maybe due to her age, he handles her with kid gloves and he’s always been a bit soft as far as sheriffs go anyway. But,  it’s always a possibility if she crosses too big of a line or does something unforgivable. 

Hell, she might decide she wants to leave, might realize Hope County is just not the place for her and head back to Louisiana. 

 At the moment he just likes her, nothing intense, nothing he can’t deal with losing. If he found out tomorrow she was fired and leaving, he’d be bummed sure, but he’d recover relatively quickly. But if they started dating, if it worked out and one date led to another. If they hit it off, meshed as well as he thinks they could and that ‘like’ grew into something more and then she had to leave... 

“Once her probationary hire is over, I’ll do it,” he says out loud, committing himself to the action in front of Joey. Once that threshold has been crossed, once he has a little more reassurance that he can pursue Rook without fear of her leaving, he’ll go for it. 

“You sure you can hold out that long?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You tell me, Mister asked her out on the first day.” 

“Shut up.” 

Dahlia signs the last of the paperwork, her hand cramping, all of this fuss because someone hit her with a beer bottle. She’s still sick from the idea of having to take off a week, better than two, but she’d rather just do her job. So, her vision in one eye is a little blurry and her head hurts like crazy, big deal. 

“There’s something else to address.” 

“What’s that?” She raises an eyebrow at Whitehorse, let her out of paperwork hell, please. 

“It’s up to you if you want us to press charges against him for assaulting you.” 

“Oh.” 

“If it matters, we’ve dealt with Ben a lot, he’s been beating his wife black and blue for years. But, she’s never willing to press charges and nothing’s been severe enough to bring him up on charges from the state.”

“Let’s do it, then.” She’s not sure how much it will help, without counseling and after care, who knows if the cycle can break. But, if she can get the guy put away, it will at least give her a chance to get out without fear of repercussions. 

There’s some more paperwork associated with that, filling out a statement and the like. But, that’s more than worth it. She finishes it up and is massaging her hand to help alleviate the muscles that are cramping in distress. 

“Also-”

“If I have to sign one more piece of paper, I’m gonna kill you.” She cuts him off and earns a chuckle in response. 

“No, I just wanted to tell you, hell of a job, today.” 

“All I did was get beat up.” 

“You were in a high stress situation and you resolved it as best you could, you subdued him without deadly force, and showed you know how to handle yourself.”

“The standards are low, aren’t they?” 

“You did good, be proud of yourself for a moment,” he tells her, squeezing her shoulder as he passes by.  Her heart warms at the gesture, he thinks she did good. Despite being stuck taking a week off, he still thinks she did well. 

Hands in her pockets, she’s grinning as she leaves the office, Hudson and Pratt are just outside; talking about who knows what. They’re usually off drinking right now, but he seemed freaked out about her injury, maybe he’s trying to make sure she’s okay. She’d appreciate it if that were the case. 

“Hey, Rook,” Hudson greets her, bright smile, and Dahlia gives a small nod of her head. Unable to force words out of her throat. 

“Everything taken care of?” 

“Yeah...guess I’ll get to see you guys in a week,” she grumbles, still upset about it. 

“Hey,” Hudson stops her before she can leave, “why don’t you come out to The Spread Eagle with us?” 

“You know I can’t drink, right?” 

“They serve water and pop,” Hudson says, shrugging. 

“Um, okay…”  Dahlia scratches sheepishly at the back of her neck, she gets to go out with them, her heart is warm. Between Whitehorse’s praise and being invited out with the other deputies, this is a pretty good night. 

“Is that why you weren’t tagging along with us?” Pratt asks as they start to head towards the door. 

“I didn’t know you wanted me to tag along…” 

“Oh my god, you awkward little disaster.” Pratt ruffles her hair as he insults her and she playfully smacks his side, happy to see him joking around again. 

The neon sign of The Spread Eagle flickers above Dahlia’s head as they walk to the old bar. It’s cheesy and ridiculous the logo of a scantily clad woman with she assumes eagle wings.

 “So, I'm gonna live my life like it's my last damn night.”

“Cause when the clock strikes twelve, we're all gonna go to hell”

 The jukebox and lowlight greet them, people spread around drinking at the bar and cozied up over the wooden tables. A little stage in the corner for those nights when they have live music. Behind the bar, Mary May works away at getting people their drinks, honey blonde hair tied up in a bun and her flannel’s sleeves pushed up to her elbows. A window behind her shows a glimmer of the kitchen, an older man with dark hair slaving over the orders.

“You’re late,” Mary May teases Hudson and Pratt as the deputies all grab seats at the bar, Dahlia between the two of them.  

She’s never sat at a bar before and something about it feels decidedly mature to the young officer. That is until she can barely climb up there and unlike her two coworkers, her legs aren’t long enough for her feet to comfortable rest on the ground or even part of the stool. Her legs left to swing like a child’s.

“You can blame the probie for that one.” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll try not to get my ass kicked in the future.” 

“You finally gonna get your round of free drinks, hero?” Mary May asks her, a slight smile on her face and dear god, why must the women in this county be so pretty? The apples of Dahlia’s cheeks are growing warm. 

“‘Fraid I can’t, still got a year before that’s legal,” she says, never mind if it’s maybe a bit closer to a year and three months. 

“Well, a free meal it is then.” 

“No, no, I can’t do that,” She quickly dismisses the idea, local businesses tend to need every dime they can get, she’s not letting Mary May cut herself short just because Dahlia did her job. 

“Seriously, if it weren’t for you, I’d be shut down for the month, it is the least I can do.” 

“Give it up, Rook, she’s not gonna budge,” Pratt tells her. 

“She’s stubborn as a mule,” Hudson warns. 

“You heard them, cowboy, your money’s no good here.” The cowboy nickname is a new one, but Dahlia doesn’t mind it, or the way it makes her smile. 

“Fine, free meal, but I’m tipping.” 

“Okay, okay, I can work with that.” 

Hudson and Pratt get cheap weak beers and Dahlia gets a pop as they look over the food options. Everything makes her stomach growl; desperate for something more than convenience store food or microwave meals. There’s a sign below the window into the kitchen, saying they deliver, she wonders if the trailer park is too far away for it.

She decides to try something she’s never eaten before, a burger with huckleberry barbecue sauce, never having heard of the condiment before. Orders in, she can’t help but look around the room, taking in the decorations. Newspaper clippings beneath a neon blinking sign for Lease Lager, a little flag for Hope County Cougars, and a smaller flyer advertising something she’s seen billboards for all over; the Testicle Festival, advertised with a little screaming cartoon bull.

“The fuck is a Testicle Festival?”

“Pffff,” Pratt laughs and chokes on his beer, pulling it away and licking the beer away from his lips. Hudson cracks a big grin, pressing a hand to her mouth to hold back chuckles.

“I mean, it’s basically exactly what you sound like,” the older woman says, shrugging her shoulders.

“People get together and eat bull balls,” Pratt adds.

“Willingly?”

They both laugh as Dahlia looks at them wide eyed, that’s so fucking gross, why the fuck would someone eat that? She’s never been one to turn her nose up at any meal, but that so disgusting, her stomach churning at the very idea.

“Yeah, it’s a thing, I, don’t know what to tell you.”

“Montana is gross…”

“Oh, shut up, I’m sure they eat gross shit in Louisiana too.”

“Not really,” she shakes her head at Pratt, trying to think of the weirdest food she’s ate, well weird to them, “I mean, I’ve had alligator before.”

“You’ve ate alligator?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t think that’s weird?”

“I didn’t eat it’s balls!”

They cackle and laugh at her outburst, she’s joining along before she knows it, face flushing as she cracks up. She barely can remember the ache in her head or the blur in her vision, the more painful moments of the day forgotten as she loses herself in dumb banter and jokes. The burger is incredible, she’d lick the plate clean if she wasn’t in public. Hell, that fact is barely holding her back. She’s not sure how many colas she’s drank her way through, but at some point, her bladder is screaming at her.

“Let me guess, you gotta piss,” Pratt taunts her, reminding her of their little bickering match this evening, she’s an adult she’s allowed to piss.

“Fuck off.” She grabs a grimy fry off the ground andt she drops it down into his beer as she walks by.

She uses the bathroom and washes her hands, catching her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she does so. It’s the first time she’s got a proper look at herself since she was beat up. Stitches over the laceration under her eye, the skin bruised, the white of her eye purple with busted blood vessel with the brown of her eye blurring into it. An absolute mess and she grins.

There’s something fulfilling about getting in a fight, not starting but, making it through one.  Having the marks to show it, knowing she held her own. Whether it was fights in school or when she’d fight back against her step-father, no matter how it ended up, she’d feel proud of herself. Whether because she fought back or simply because she survived. The aftermath was nothing more than a badge of honor marking what she went through. She’d take a thousand more stitches and bruises over the week off, if she’s being completely honest. Dahlia leaves the bathroom once her hands dry, shoving them in her pocket as she goes.

Oooh, oooh, ooh~

If I told you a lie, you could smile, my love.

You’d never understand.

The jukebox hums and Dahlia finds her eyes looking around the room, taking in the faces of the patrons. A shift of a door and the step of boots draws her eyes towards the door. Her breath catches in her throat, what the hell is a Seed doing here?

John Seed, the youngest of the brothers, is walking through the door. All of the siblings make her uncomfortable in some fashion, largely to do with their religiosity, but then they each have their own unique brand of unsettling. John reminds her of a sleazy car salesman, too sharp smiles that don’t reach his eyes. Even when he shook her hand at the church, something about him felt off, like he’s wearing a mask but she can’t quite tell what’s under it.

If I told you a tale, you’d cry, my love.

You’d never hold my hand.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mary May yells over the bar, when she sees him.

There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes when he looks at her, not unlike a cat finding a mouse to tear apart.  He strides to the bar with purposeful steps and he smirks, but unlike those salesman smiles, it reaches his eyes.

“I just thought I’d check in,” his eyes lazily scan the room, looking at the beer bottles and glasses of whiskey in patron’s hands, “do we really need to have this conversation again?”  

“It’s a bar, the hell you expect me to serve?”

“I expect,” John puts his hand on the bar with a sharp sound, “you to listen to reason and start to understand your position.”

“Is something wrong?” Dahlia’s question escapes her without another thought, everything about John’s body language putting her on edge. 

When it all bleeds out, you don’t know.”

When it all bleeds out.

John’s eyes leave Mary May and land on Dahlia, those piercing blue eyes cutting through to her core. He looks her up and down, as if she’s the mouse now. But she doesn’t shrink away or avoid his gaze, unwilling to show any signs of backing down in the face of his intensity. 

Wake up, little man.

Don’t you break her heart. 

“Dep-yoo-tee,” John speaks in a low drawn out way, emphasizing every syllable with the slow drag of his gaze on her.

“Stay out of it, Rook,” Pratt warns her as she walks past him and Hudson at the bar. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, why the fuck would she stay out of it? Supposedly, John already tried to get members of Eden’s Gate to steal Mary May’s alcohol shipment and now he’s showing up to push her around; fuck that shit.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Oh c’mon, little man.

Don’t you fall apart. 

“I was just trying to have a little talk with Mary May, though she’s never been one for civility. More importantly, what happened here?”

He reaches out towards her face and she flinches out of reflex, John’s fingers grazing her bruised cheek before she smacks his hand away. Not sharp enough to truly hurt, but enough to force him away.

When the devil’s got you, but only by the hand. 

“Hazard of the job and, please, don’t touch me.”

John’s eyebrows furrow, eyes growing dark and face scrunching for a moment in anger before he forces a soft smile. It doesn’t touch the stormy look in his eyes; another little mask hiding whatever’s lurking beneath the surface.

Let go, little man.

Let go, little man.

“Ah, you poor thing, you” his voice deepens with concern, but it feels more like pity. He fidgets with his sleeves and lets out a sigh, irritation seeping through the false concern. She has to resist the urge to smile, something satisfying in seeing his true emotions bubbling up.

“It is what it is, are you done with your ‘little talk’ now?”

His nostrils flare and he bites his lip, it feels like poking a bear, but she’s having fun with it. He gives another fake smile and she wants to wipe it off his face.

“With Mary May, yes, but I was hoping to speak with you more. Though,” he looks around, “this is hardly an ideal setting. Have you given any more thought to tomorrow?”

“Like, I said before, I have to work,” she says the white lie and dismisses him with a shrug, hopeful it will appease the Gucci wearing gremlin in front of her.

“You know, it’s not often The Father goes to the trouble of inviting someone himself,” he tells her, as if it’s meant to entice her. Instead the title ‘The Father’ just makes her skin crawl, not unlike the title her step-father took on with his own church. As if she needed more reasons to avoid these people.

“What are you talking about, Rook? You got a week off for your injury, remember?”  Pratt pipes up and Dahlia’s blood runs cold, why the fuck would he do that to her? Why would he do that? John’s eyes go bright and a sly smile stretches across his face.

“Wonderful, I’ll see you there, dep-yoo-ty, service begins at nine in the morning.” John gives her arm a hard squeeze before he leaves, Dahlia’s skin crawling beneath his touch. Empty air where he once was within the next moment.

Yeah, I vow to the moon, yeah, I howl at the wind.

I’m bleeding and I can’t stay clean.

 She’s expected to come to the service, dear god. The air is punched out of her lungs. Even being outside of a church put her nerves on edge, she’s not sure if she could step foot in one without getting sick.  She moves behind Pratt and puts her hand on his shoulders.

“Hey, Rook, what are you-uuck-” Pratt’s words cut off as she moves and wraps her hands on either side around his throat. Not hard enough to genuinely hurt him, but enough to feel it as she shakes him and pretends to wring his neck .

“Why the fuck would you do that?!”

“It was funny,” he defends himself when she lets go and throws herself onto her chair, bringing one foot up into the seat as she leans back. Her body going slack with exasperation, she’s seriously going to have to go church?

“I fucking hate you, I actually fucking hate you.”

“God, you’re dramatic. It’s church, not like I volunteered you for a root canal.”

“I’d rather have the root canal.” She tosses her head back with a sigh, staring at the ceiling. Pratt doesn’t know her issue with religion, she knows that, so she can’t truly be angry at him. But, fuck, would it have killed him to keep his mouth shut?

“Well, I think I should probably get out of here before Rook kills me,” Pratt says as he pays for his meal and drink, standing up from his seat.

“I’m gonna head home too,” Hudson stands up and ruffles Dahlia’s hair, “cheer up, Rookie.”

Dahlia doesn’t even have the energy to get worked up about Hudson’s touch, peacefully letting the casual touch come and go with a mere blush. Then the two have left and Dahlia is trying to gather the energy to get up, with the looming reality that she’s expected to go to church in the morning, she no longer wants this night to end.

“Deputy,” Mary May says after a moment, baby blues watching Dahlia sigh and rub a hand down her face.

“Hmm?” Dahlia straightens her posture enough to look at Mary May properly, realizing how somber the bartender’s expression and posture really is. The blonde chews her lip, looking away, visibly searching for her words.

“Eden’s Gate has been in this county for a long time, hell, I was in high school when they moved in on us. They started buying places out left and right, they own half the damn county, now.”

“They have that much money?” Dahlia can’t help but ask, aren’t churches relatively low profit ventures, assuming you aren’t selling snake oil or asking people to donate money for Jesus.

“Got that much money, that much power, and they know how to twist the law to suit their needs. They want the entire county and everyone in it under their thumb…”

Her knuckles whiten as she grips the edge of the bar, a far away look in her soft blue eyes. Dahlia puts her hand over Mary May’s, hoping the warmth of her touch can help ease the sting, even if she’s not sure what’s hurting the blonde. It’s enough in the moment, it seems, Mary May looking up at her and giving a soft smile, speaking again after a beat of silence.

“You’re one of the few people around here who’s not rolling over and letting them do whatever the hell they want. I don’t wanna see that change. Just do me a favor, don’t drink the Kool-Aid.”

“Look at me,” Dahlia looks directly into Mary May’s eyes, “I’d rather play jump rope with my own intestines than join a church.”

“Good.”

Mary May is satisfied with that answer, smiling as she’s called away to get someone else a drink. Dahlia’s not sure what the history is there with her and John, but clearly something has happened. Other than the Eden’s Gate members stealing alcohol and Lonny’s asshole behavior, there’s not conclusive evidence that they’ve done anything more than petty theft. John’s opinion on Mary May selling alcohol, supporting that he might ask them to do that. Otherwise, anything else is just bad feelings and hearsay. She wants to trust they’re good people, just staunch in their beliefs and a little strange, always wanting the believe the best of people. But, she’s going to be sure to keep an ear to the ground and stay wary of them, knowing she’s apparently not the only one concerned about their shit.

Dahlia shakes her head and gets out her wallet, getting out enough for the meal and then some, calling it all a tip for the sake of getting past Mary May’s generosity. She puts it down on the bar under her plate, letting the bartender know she’s taking off for the night.

The night air chills her skin as she leaves the bar before she’s caught. She pulls a cigarette out as she loiters outside the bar, leaning back against the building’s porch. Dahlia takes a deep inhale looking off into the distance.

Even in the valley, the statue of Joseph Seed is looming in the distance, the tallest thing in the entire county. There must be light around it, setting the statue aglow at night. She lets out the smoke in her lungs as she’s reminded of the real man. It wasn’t long ago she could barely believe he was a real living person. The statue makes him seem too large, too imposing, too important to be tangible. Meeting him and his family still feels like a fever dream.

Faith is like a living fairy, floating along in a white dress with flowers in her hair. An ethereal being with long dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes. Dahlia’s dream or perhaps exhaustion induced hallucinations of chasing after her still making the woman feel like a specter.

John feels like someone pretending to be human or maybe it’s just how out of place he seems in the rustic little county.  Dark slicked back hair, designer shades always on top of his head, silk shirts, and tailored vests; he looks like a Ken doll someone drew tattoos on.

The brother who didn’t bother to offer his name cuts possibly the most intimidating figure of them. He seemed larger than life. At least six foot six and wider than a door, dressed in army attire with his ginger hair shaved at the sides. The man could snap her spine in half if he had a half a mind to.

Then there’s Joseph, The Father, goosebumps raise on her skin when she thinks of his title. It’s bias, projections of her trauma that bring up those gross feelings when in reality he’s done nothing to her. His statue is true to his likeness in some ways, dark hair pulled back in a small bun and the full beard that seems standard for all men in Eden’s Gate. But at the end of it all, the statue is a composed sterilized version of the intense man who stood in front of her. The concrete can’t capture the intensity of his blue eyes, the way they cut through her, the way his choice of sunglasses turn them green. His unblinking stare as he stood out in the cold of night, shirtless with ink and scars marring his skin, sweat still sticking to him and strands of hair falling into his face.

But despite the wild appearance, he spoke calmly, he spoke deliberately and with devotion. He’s intense and he’s all encompassing, everything about him is too much, from his stare to the way his touch lingered for a moment more than it should have. His presences like a raging fire that can’t be ignored. 

She has no real reason to dislike him, he’s done nothing cruel, he hasn’t wronged her. But every fiber of her being screams at her to stay away, that he’s everything she doesn’t want near her. A forest fire that her body is urging her to run away, lest she be burned to ashes.

It may be paranoia and experience perverting her feelings; and it may be gut instinct trying to save her.  

But regardless, it seems she’ll be burned alive come morning.

[d-criss-news]

With the film industry as we know it—A-list stars swanning around studio lots amid the swirling winds of an entire city bellowing buzzwords about makin’ pictures—essentially nonexistent at the moment, here’s an especially provocative idea as we contemplate its eventual return: What if Hollywood was... better?

Not in terms of quality of output, though if we’ve learned anything through the industry’s glacial inching toward progress, that will follow suit. But what if the industry was more inclusive? What if it was less afraid of change? What if it allowed gay people, people of color, women, and minorities to tell their own stories, to be in charge—and what if the people accepted it? 

Better yet, what if it was always that way? 

Like the loud, harsh clack of a clapboard coming down on 70 years of motion picture history, Ryan Murphy’s revisionist manifesto Hollywood arrives Friday on Netflix with blinding, blaring, technicolor confidence. Hardly subtle, deliciously ostentatious, and admirably mischievous, the lavish seven-episode series is a love letter to Hollywood by way of 2020 think piece. 

It is messy and thrilling, upsetting yet profound; as uneven and as enthralling as any of Murphy’s big-swing, genre-contorting efforts: Glee, American Horror Story, or The Politician. But as with his soapy historical study Feud: Bette and Joan, it is a fastidious celebration of a glamorized time in Hollywood that mines nostalgia for modern meaning—a fragile undertaking swaddled in the dazzle of unmatched production design and talent pedigree.

Hollywood flops as often as it soars, but never rests in its grandiosity and ambition. The result is something escapist and frothy at a time when a retreat to a Hollywood happy ending is as alluring a fantasy as they come.

There is brilliant acting and there is bad acting. There are ovation-worthy ideas and there are off-putting ones. But, above all, there is reason to watch: It is gay, it is sexy, it is Patti LuPone.

Hollywood is a revisionist history of cinema’s golden age. It’s the 1940s in all their glamour and art: Casablanca! Citizen Kane! Alfred Hitchcock! Jimmy Stewart! Rita Hayworth! Cary Grant! It’s an era that’s been romanticized for so long that we’ve internalized it, morphing our own lifestyle aspirations to conform to its very heteronormative, very patriarchal, very (very) white ideas about sex and gender roles. These were ideas, however, that the industry was telegraphing, but not living in real life. Not at all. 

Murphy and his team’s rewriting of history pulls the curtain back, exposing the sexually fluid proclivities of the stars—leading men sleeping with male escorts; Oscar-winning actresses in bisexual affairs—and the damning, racist barriers to inclusion fortified by studio heads thwarting any opportunity for progress. 

Then, and here’s the crux of the whole thing: Hollywood changes that narrative. We glimpse the power dynamics inside Tinseltown’s gilded cage, and watch them being dismantled. 

Some of the players’ narratives are real, and some are fiction. That makes for an amusing parlor game for viewers, attempting to separate the true history from the imagined one, and should birth a cottage industry of “The Real Story Behind…” stories in the weeks to come. But these are actual people who never had the opportunity to live authentically or see true, equal opportunity in the industry. Expect there to be a split among those who find happier, reimagined fates for them a sweet gesture, and those who find it in bad taste. 

The story trains in on Jack (David Corenswet), a World War II veteran arriving wide-eyed in Hollywood, hoping some gumption and a jawline God shed a tear after creating will be enough to get him into the pictures. But he’s got a pregnant wife (Maude Apatow) to think about. Until he catches the eye of a casting director, he has to find some way to pay the bills. That cash flow comes surreptitiously from a gas station owner (Dylan McDermott), whose dashed Hollywood ambitions leave a soft spot for attractive dreamers like Jack—particularly ones who prove lucrative in his under-the-table prostitution business. A customer comes in for a fill-up, so to speak, and whispers the code, “I want to go to Dreamland,” and, well, you know the rest—and hopefully get the hardly nuanced metaphor about sex, power, sacrifices, and Hollywood.

This gas station business is without a doubt inspired by Scotty Bowers, the notorious L.A. hustler who died last year at 96, following a scandalizing, dishy documentary and memoir revealing the brothel he ran out of a petrol stand, sleeping with (allegedly) Cary Grant, Spencer Tracy, Bette Davis, Vivien Leigh, Gary Cooper, J. Edgar Hoover, and Rock Hudson. 

McDermott’s character, however, is not actually Scotty Bowers, a distinction that’s necessary because Rock Hudson actually is a character, played by Jake Picking. So is Henry Wilson, the monstrous, closeted Hollywood agent played by Jim Parsons, who trades blowjobs for representation. Elsewhere, real-life trailblazers like Hattie MacDaniel, Vivien Leigh, and George Cukor show up. Their presence, on the one hand, lends credibility and grounds the fantasia of diversity and acceptance that Hollywood builds to. It’s also morally amorphous.

Hudson was closeted until the day he died of HIV/AIDS. He didn’t get the happy ending imagined here, publicly coming out of the closet by attending the Academy Awards with his fictional black, gay screenwriting boyfriend, holding hands on the red carpet, and staying on track on his ascension to Hollywood hunk. There’s also no evidence that Wilson, as caustic and self-loathing as the devil himself when we meet him in the show, had a change of heart and becomes a LGBT crusader seeking amends and atonement. 

The wishful thinking is nice. But the bleakness of the reality shouldn’t be forgotten. There’s no clean place to land there, other than to consider both. 

But these are just a handful of Hollywood’s players, and not even the true engine of the plot. In typical Murphyland fashion, there is a dizzying constellation of characters and their errant business to keep tabs on. 

At the forefront is Patti LuPone’s Avis, the bored wife of a studio head (a scene-stealing Rob Reiner) who is first introduced as a client of Jack’s—hence all the press about the Tony winner’s explicit sex scenes that you’ve likely been reading—and eventually put in charge of the studio itself when her husband is incapacitated by a heart attack. 

If it’s novel now to think of a female in charge of greenlighting projects and making commercial creative decisions, imagine it seven decades ago. And Avis shakes things up. With a casting director (Holland Taylor, perfect) and producer (Joe Mantello, heartbreaking) as her conspirators, she greenlights and positions as the studio’s next blockbuster a film called Meg, with its historically diverse creative team intact. 

That means half-Filipino director Raymond (Darren Criss), black screenwriter Archie (Jeremy Pope), black leading lady Camille (Laura Harrier), and Jack and Rock in supporting roles. It takes willfulness to bulldoze the fortresses that bar progress. That is invigorating and moving to watch, especially as Hollywood dances between comedy, camp, earnestness, and tragedy with all the glee, if you will, that you’d expect from a Ryan Murphy production. 

There’s sex—hot sex, gay sex, interracial sex, intergenerational sex—and there’s farce and there’s a wardrobe and set budget to sweep you away like a riptide. 

There are scenes from Parsons and LuPone that will win them Emmys. Mantello and Taylor have a two-hander together that shattered me into so many pieces I am billing Ryan Murphy the cleaning fee. I worry that even with his Netflix money it won’t be enough—that’s how good it is. 

Mira Sorvino and Queen Latifah give so much in their scenes as guest stars that you wish they were in more but are grateful for the flawless blips of bliss, while Michelle Krusiec as Anna May Wong, the first Chinese American movie star, is the epitome of an actor making a monumental moment out of limited material. 

Criss solidifies his leading-man status—he’s captivating in every scene, even without much to do—and Corenswet brings glimmers of gravitas to eye candy. But the rest of the kids nearly torpedo the whole damn thing, they’re so miscast. The scenes with the older generation are so rich and such an utter joy to watch, it only makes the woodenness of performers like Picking and Harrier all the more egregious. Thankfully, there’s a larger message to it all that acts as absolution.

If Hollywood were a treatise on how society interacts with movies and TV both then and now, then the thesis could likely be boiled down to an early conversation between Raymond, Criss’ director character, and Dick, Mantello’s studio exec. It’s Raymond’s dream to direct a movie starring Anna May Wong. Dick kills the pitch, saying no one will pay to see a movie with an Asian lead, or any lead of color. 

Raymond doesn’t stand for that. How does he know? No one’s tried. “Sometimes I think folks in this town don’t really understand the power they have. Movies don’t just show us how the world is, they show how the world can be. If we change the way that movies are made, you take a chance and you make a different kind of story, I think you can change the world.” 

It’s not a stretch to argue that as the mission statement of Murphy’s entire career. He’s proved it time and again, from Glee to Pose: Bring the marginalized out of the margins and watch how things change. Someone just has to be the one to do it.

In essence, Hollywood sees Murphy dramatizing the progress that he played a part in catalyzing today, but imagining if it had come at a different turning point in cinema history—70 years ago. More tantalizingly, he raises the question of what society today might be like had it actually happened then. 

Is it a little self-congratulatory? Sure. But, hey, that’s showbiz, kid. 

[entropyfairy]

48 Queer Films

*Warning: Many if not all of these have sexual content of some kind*

Black Queer Media (In Honor of BLM):

Paris is Burning (1990)- Documentary on NY Ballroom culture

Kiki (2016)- spiritual sequel to Paris is Burning

Moonlight- coming-of-age story of a gay black man, named after a notable centaur from Greek mythology. FULL of symbolism.

Tongues United (1989)- Experimental documentary about black gay voices, and how they have been hypersexualized/silenced by both straight and gay white communities.

Noah’s Arc: Jumping the broom (2008)- Two gay black men get married!

Pariah (2011)- coming-of-age story of a black lesbian woman

Rafiki (2018) - Tale of two Kenyan lesbians and their relationship as it intertwines with political crisis 

Inxeba (The Wound) 2017- follows a boy through his Xhosan tribe’s initiation ritual of Ulwaluko, or passage into manhood, in South Africa. Gay relationships and love triangles happen

Blackbird (2014)- A black gay teenager navigates his faith and family in Mississippi

Naz & Maalik  (2015) - Two teenage, closeted, Muslim friends who scheme and are gay for each other

Set it Off (1996)- Lesbians who commit a heist ;) Queen Latifah is there

The Skinny (2012)- 5 Brown university students, four gay men and a lesbian, have fun in NY for a night

The Happy Sad (2013)- The lives of two couples in New York City -- one, gay and black, and the other, heterosexual and white -- intertwine when they explore sexual identity and redefine monogamy.

Cis Gay Male Media:

The Birdcage (1996)- Feels much like a play and is a gay remake of the classic French comedy "La Cage aux Folles". Two gay men, who own a drag club in Miami, must pretend to be a straight couple when their son needs to introduce them to future in-laws, who are conservative republicans.

To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar (1995)- Some drag queens, on their way to a competition across the country, have their car break down in the Midwest. They help a small town and their residents with their problems waiting for their car to get fixed.

Brokeback Mountain (2005)- Two ranch hands have a great time on the range incrementally over the course of 20 years, but they always eventually have to return to their straight relationships. *cries in yeehaw*

God’s Own Country (2017)- a English farmer lives an isolated, unsatisfactory life; until he meets a migrant Romanian worker who helps him find his path.

Boys (2014)- Coming-of-age story about a summer love between two Dutch boys

The Circle (2014)- Swiss Docu-drama set in 1950’s Germany about the secret distribution and publication of an illegal gay male newsletter/journal. Which was a precursor to gay liberation in Europe. It makes me happy and grateful queers can be much more easily connected now.

Mala Noche (1986)- Gus Van Zant’s first film that explores gay relationships that aren’t clearly defined; as well as factors of inequality that stem from language, race, and class.

My Own Private Idaho (1991)- Two gay sex workers go on a road trip, and attract a sugar-daddy.

Mysterious Skin (2004)- Follows the parallel stories of two teens: one obsessed with UFOs, and the other a gay sex worker coming to terms with childhood trauma. WARNING: Sexual abuse

Stranger By The Lake (2013)- A French film that maintains a sense of tension and ominousness throughout, while also subverting the gay cultural expectation of perfectly fit, greek-god bodies. Almost like a gay male re-imagining of Red Riding Hood.

Chinese Characters (1986)- Examines the relationship of gay Asian men with White gay porn.

Happy Together (1997)- The fall-out of a relationship between two gay Chinese men who seek refuge in Argentina

Cis Lesbian Media:

The Handmaiden (2016)- My fav WLW/Park-Chan-Wook film. A Korean con- man tries to marry a Japanese woman to steal her inheritance, but she ends up falling for her handmaiden. BIG dunk on creepy men.

Saving Face (2004)- A Chinese-American woman surgeon falls in love with a ballet dancer. Family drama adds to this forbidden love.

Heavenly Creatures (1994)- Psychological thriller directed by Peter Jackson about two New Zealand Girls who run away to America together

Gaycation (hulu show)- Ellen Page goes to different countries and interview locals on their gays lives/experiences

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)- A wonderful and rare film about the female gaze; with a hint of Pygmalion flavor. In 18th century France, a woman is commissioned to befriend and accompany a reluctant bride-to-be by her mother, in order to observe and secretly paint the bride’s wedding portrait for a man in another country. She falls in love with the woman the more she paints her. 

Killing Eve (2018)- A psychological cat-and-mouse show about a MI spy (Eve) and a murderous, psychopathic assassin (Villanelle). They hunt each other and catch feelings as they try to outwit each other. A very fun ride.

Wild Nights With Emily (2019)- Dramatized Bio-film that looks at Emily Dickinson’s life with another woman.

The Ice Palace (1987)- Two 12-year-old Norwegian girls struggle with their forbidden love in the 1930’s 

Show Me Love (1998)- Two girls with polar-opposite personalities navigate teenage drama and their budding love in a small Swedish town 

Thelma (2017)- A Norwegian college student, from a very religious Christian family, experiences seizure-like episodes, only to discover they are psychokinetic abilities triggered by her love for another woman.

Thelma and Louise (1991)- I refuse to believe this isn’t at least lesbian-coded. Two women run away from their shitty lives together, then run from the law when one of them kills a rapist.

Colette (2018)- A talented and successful 19th century writer has a shitty husband, so she sleeps with women.

Fun (1994)- Two mentally unstable girls go to juvenile detention for killing and elderly woman.

Butterfly Kiss (1995)- A bisexual, homicidal woman saves a young woman and accompanies her on her rampage. WARNING: Sexual abuse

The L word (2004)- show about the intertwining loves of lesbian and bisexual women in LA. Prepare for DRAMA!

 Transfeminine Media:

Tangerine (2015)- The life and relationships of a transwoman whose a sex worker

A Fantastic Woman (2017)- A trans woman in Chile must navigate the death of her partner

Flawless (1999)- a transwoman gives a homophobic/transphobic man voice lessons after a stroke. It follows their journey to find a middle-ground and friendship.

She Male Snails (2012)- Experimental documentary by a trans woman. With poetry and thoughts from transfem people in their transitions and relationships

Southern Comfort (2001)- Documentary on the final year of life of trans man Robert Eads as he dies of ovarian cancer. And how it intersects with his friends,family, and partner Lola, a trans woman.

Transmasculine Media:

Girls Lost (2015)- 3 Swedish girls discover a fruit that can turn them into boys for a short time. One of them discovers they only feel right when getting to be in male form.

Southern Comfort (2001)-Documentary on the final year of life of trans man Robert Eads as he dies of ovarian cancer. And how it intersects with his friends,family, and partner Lola, a trans woman.

Tomboy (2011)- A young French girl enjoys dressing and acting like a boy, but adults and her peers are confused and distressed by it.

[penzyroamin]

Hi I know it’s been a bit but I’m the confused bi anon. I really really appreciated your response and it wasn’t too long. You made me feel a lot better. I was wondering if you could maybe suggest some books, tv, movies with bi female characters. Thanks soo much for the entire last response . You are absolutely incredible and so sweet. This means more to me than you could ever know❤️

of course!! i’m glad that my first response helped <3

disclaimer of course: i’m not bi! so i’m not an Authoritative Source on bi rep and what people want to see more of. i do actively seek out stuff about lgbtq+ characters, specifically girls and women, so i have some recs! however, i’ll also be adding some things that some bi folks i know have recommended because while lesbians and bi women have a lot in common, these are at the end of the day representing them, not me :)

extra-super favorites will be bolded! i’m putting this under a read more because... i read a lot of books. and recommended a lot of them.

books:

her royal highness by rachel hawkins-- this book is a pretty easy read-- don’t expect any massive revelations about life from it, and you’ll have a good time!!! essentially, a bi texan girl named millie, after having her heart broken by her friend-turned-sort-of-gf, goes to boarding school in scotland and ends up rooming with the princess, flora. if this sounds outrageous and sappy, that’s because it is! and i love it! sexuality isn’t a BIG part of this book, but it’s discussed, and it’s just a generally fun enemies-to-lovers story about a bi aspiring geologist and a no-fucks-to-give lesbian princess and them falling in love!

fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg-- hello this is actually my favorite book! unlike hrh it is... a LOT to read. it essentially follows 2 stories-- one about a housewife named evelyn and her friendship with an old woman named ninny threadgoode who she meets at the old folks home her mother-in-law stays at, and the other about the stories ninny tells her about her sister-in-law idgie and her partner, ruth. the book was published in 1987, and ruth and idgie’s story is set during the great depression, so they aren’t actively labeled as lesbian or bi, but it’s made obvious enough through coding and the fact that ruth has relationships with men prior to idgie while idgie spends her entire childhood pining after ruth. both storylines are fantastic-- they have a lot to say about the lives of southern women in the 30s and 80s, and about race relations at both periods. i’ll warn you that there are depictions of extreme racism and of abuse, but it handles both delicately. it’s a critical piece of southern literature, and a landmark for lgbtq+ storytelling. as a bonus, my copy has a bunch of great recipes in the back, so if you read it you might chance upon an edition with those in it. if you like poignant period pieces about wlw relationships, women losing their damn minds, and abusive men getting what they deserve, this is the book for you! you will sob. this is a fair warning.

you should see me in a crown by leah johnson-- i haven’t personally read this one, but i’ve heard great things about it from everyone i know who has! an anxious black bi girl in indiana has to win prom queen at her mostly-white school in order to get enough scholarship money to go to the college of her dreams, but ends up falling for mack, another girl running for queen. 

@landlessbud wanted me to shout out red, white, and royal blue by casey mcquinston-- you’ve almost definitely heard about it before (first son and prince of wales, enemies-to-lovers with a side dish of political drama), and it is primarily about a mlm romance, but nora is a fabulously fun bi girl side character and there’s a lot of great stuff about figuring out your sexuality in it.

leah on the offbeat by becky albertalli-- i’ve read a lot of complex thoughts on this book, and mine are... i like it! it’s flawed, sure, and i wish it had handled a few things a little better, but you know what? it’s cute as fuck! leah is a fat bi drummer, and she’s super cool! abby is a great love interest, and she goes through a whole bi realization throughout the book. all in all, it’s just a fun wlw high school romcom with a couple solid dramatic beats and a lot of goofball shenanigans. also, if you were an american girl kid??? one scene in this book will make the entire experience worth it for you.

harley quinn: breaking glass by mariko tamaki and steve pugh-- hey, we’re in graphic novel territory now! this book is RAD. a really neat look at gentrification, community solidarity, giving people what they deserve, and fantastic lgbtq+ found families. teenage harleen quinzel is taken in by a group of drag queens, and is caught between two sort-of love interests-- mysterious vigilante the joker and classmate and community activist ivy-- and the different forms of protest and resistance they represent. the art here is STUNNING, and it’s a great read!

laura dean keeps breaking up with me, by the great mariko tamaki with art by rosemary valero-o’connell-- the vast majority of the characters are lgbt, with a lesbian main character, and the supporting cast including a bi nonbinary character, a bi girl character, and two mlm characters! this is mostly a piece about modern lgbtq+ teenagers and the way toxic relationships take over our lives. it’s one of the most cathartic things i’ve read in a LONG time, and especially if you’re at a point where your sexuality feels kind of vague, this is a great read because it embraces that vagueness by not needing to clearly label the characters and celebrates whatever point of clarity the characters are at. probably some of the most gorgeous art i’ve ever seen in a book, with a beautiful black-white-and-pink color scheme and a really neat approach to visual storytelling.

movies:

i don’t watch many movies, because i get bored really quickly hskdhskhds. but the movies i DO watch are usually gay!

wowie zowie its fried green tomatoes again!-- fannie flagg came back to adapt this into a film and HOT DAMN is it just as good. the plot is primarily the same, with some stuff obviously cut or trimmed to make it a two hour movie instead of a 450 page books fhsjdhsjhds. mary-louise parker plays ruth!!! it got a GLAAD award and an oscar nomination, and god it’s good. there are a couple scenes in here that i think are going to be in my mind until the day i die. the level of pure butch energy that idgie radiates in this film is a one-hit k.o. and it KILLS me.

birds of prey-- listen. this is not a profound movie. harley’s bisexuality isn’t emphasized, and romance is basically nonexistent in this movie. there is some... quite graphic violence. that said, this movie is so fucking fun. it’s mostly just a bunch of women fucking up everyone who crosses them while margot robbie gives a gleeful performance that you can just TELL she enjoyed the fuck out of. the last 20-30 minutes of this movie are the absolute best part, with a long sequence that kind of reinvented what an action/superhero movie could be for me. again, bisexuality isn’t a massive part of this-- it’s mentioned, and then harley just continues on in her gloriously campy outfits and breaks peoples’ knees. again, i CANNOT overemphasize just how fucking good the last 20-30 minutes are. this movie knows what it is and it embraces it. also, women beating people up in costumes that don’t horrifyingly objectify them is always a plus!

imagine me & you-- i’d be remiss if i didn’t mention this one, considering it’s probably one of the most iconic wlw romcoms. a woman named rachel, while at her own wedding, meets a florist named luce, and they fall in love. it’s a very sweet look at questioning your sexuality when you were already secure in it, and rachel’s husband wins “most genuinely understanding guy in a wlw movie” award. it has a lovely happy ending, and articles have been written about the importance of rachel being a bi character who a) gets a happy ending and b) isn’t shamed for figuring out her sexuality later on or slutshamed. this is just... a sweet movie. it’s the romcom a lot of us need in our lives. also, a LOT of floral imagery.

tv shows:

ok, i’ve got a confession. i reaaaaaaally don’t watch much tv. seriously, the only shows i’ve watched a substantial amount of recently have been parks and rec, schitt’s creek, the good place, and gilmore girls. i have a really REALLY short attention span.

that said, eleanor from the good place is bisexual!! the good place is a really wild ride, it’s half afterlife comedy half philosophical musing, and it will almost certainly make you gasp, laugh, think, and also probably cry. also, eleanor is just buckets of fun and she, like many of us, is often blown away by tahani (jameela jamil) and her beauty.

ummm shows i haven’t watched entirely or at all but that have bi women in them and seem pretty good: black lightning, sex education, jane the virgin, arrow. 

if you haven’t already watched it, do not believe what people are going to tell you about watching glee. it will drag you into a pit of despair and white men rapping, and it’s quite biphobic to top it all off.

i hope you enjoy at least some of these!! i tried to include some of my own favs and some that were pointed out to me, so i hope that at least a couple connect with you and make you feel better. again, the bolded ones are my 100% favorites. i love you and i’m glad you reached out again!!! feel free to send some more asks later on <3

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 24 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Hello darlings! Thank you for reading this story, we are so grateful. Please let us know what you think if you feel so inclined. Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: NY Fashion Week ended, and the team moved on to London.

This Chapter: London Fashion Week brings friends together, both there and back home in New York, where Adore continues to pine over Pearl and both Violet and Sutan fret about being forgotten.

***

Violet knocked on the door to Katya and Trixie’s apartment, waiting for a response. She’d just gotten home from work, and even though she was tired, she needed to keep her promise to Trixie to check on Katya.

“Katya?”

Violet knocked again, and felt stupid. She reached into her pocket, careful not to let the cartons of Chinese food she was carrying tip over, and fished out her phone.

Violet’s fingers hovered over the keys, not sure what she should write, or even who she should write to. She felt like she had to tell Trixie that she had come by, but that Katya wasn’t home, but she didn’t know if two knocks was enough of an effort between friends - if she was doing what she was supposed to.

Violet bit her lip, and she was just about to give up, to just put the food by the door, send Katya a text and ignore her responsibility to Trixie, when the blonde in question came bouncing up the stairs.

“Violet!” Katya smiled brightly. She was wearing a berry pink windbreaker and a neon green skirt, her hair half up in a blue scrunchie, a small set of what looked like doll hands dangling from her ears.

“Katya, hi!” Violet quickly put her phone in her handbag, the bag of take-out dangling awkwardly from her wrist. “I was wondering if, I, umh, if you wanted-”

“Trixie asked you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?” Katya asked, unlocking the door to the apartment and beckoning for Violet to follow her inside.

“No! I just wanted to… to, to-” Violet was pretty sure she had to deny, that it was friend code to keep secrets like this, but as she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, unable to come up with anything, she knew she couldn’t keep up the charade. “He did. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Katya smiled, waving her hand. “You can tell him I’m fine.” Katya grabbed the food, putting both that and her bags down on the counter and turned back to Violet, another big smile on her face, perfect teeth shining.

“That’s great. I-” Violet stopped, actually looking at Katya. The blonde’s smile wavered slightly, hardly detectable, but her blue eyes were puffy and rimmed with red. Had she been crying? “Katya...are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah!” Katya’s lip trembled, voice breaking slightly, and Violet was sure she was about to cry.

Normally, Violet felt uncomfortable around any and all displays of emotion, unsure what to do, uncertain about what the correct response was if she didn’t know the person intimately, but there was something about Katya that made that worry disappear completely.

Katya was so kind, always taking care of everyone around her: Trixie, Pearl, the neighbors, her students and even Violet herself.

“I don’t want to presume, but, if you’re not okay-” Violet waited a beat, lowering her voice slightly, “I hope you know that that’s okay.”

“I’m okay, it’s just-” Katya walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch, a deep sigh leaving her, Violet right behind her. “It’s been pretty rough.”

“Is it because-” Violet swifted, the situation oddly intimate. “Because Trixie is gone?”

“Trixie’s gone, Pearl’s gone, Max is gone, Shangie’s at her girlfriend’s place, Kim’s working late all week before she goes out of town, too…” Katya sniffled, wiping her eyes, and Violet felt a surge of worry, her hand reaching out and touching Katya’s knee, the blond knitting their fingers together. “Sorry.”

“You can talk.”

“I know it’s just a few weeks, and I’m being a huge baby,” Katya rolled her eyes, wiping at them again, and Violet reached into her bag, pulling a handkerchief out.

“Thanks-” Katya took it, dabbing her eyes. “I just had an extra session with my therapist, and I should be okay, I’ve been sober for forever, but, shit.” Katya snorted. “It’s hard.”

“Do you maybe,” Violet swallowed, “Do you want to umh, watch a movie or something? Your pick.”

“That would be amazing.”

***

“Home sweet home!” Sutan groaned, flopping down on the couch, toeing his shoes off and kicking them to the carpet.

“You don’t live here.” Karl smiled, bending down to pick them up so he could put them by the door.

“Sure mo-“ Sutan burped, holding his hand in front his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Tell me if you have to puke!”

“Mmh-”

Karl rolled his eyes, actually in the hall, when he heard a small groan coming from the living hey.

“You okay?”

“Fuck...”

Karl looked over, the other man’s phone in his hand, his brow furrowed.

“What?”

Sutan was adorably disheveled, his black suit jacket crumbled, the blue shirt twisted around his middle, his tie over his shoulder.

“She still hasn’t texted me back,” Sutan grumbled, running a quick hand over his face before he dumped his phone, reaching up to loosen his tie.

“Who hasn’t-”

They had met up earlier that night at what had turned out to be an outrageously boring, stuffy, industry party which they promptly ditched. They could have gone to another one, London overflowing with options during Fashion Week, but instead, they ended up at the pub, just the two of them, drinking beer and catching up.

“Got any beer?”

“Maybe. I’ll check the fridge,” Karl chuckled, walking towards the kitchen.

Now, hours later, Sutan had insisted on coming back to Karl’s apartment with him instead of his hotel, and apparently wanted to keep the party going.

Not that Karl minded in the least.

He loved spending time with Sutan--in fact, there’d been a time in his life when he would have dropped anything any time Sutan so much as glanced his way.

It had been the dumbest but most exhilarating years of his twenties, back when he had hung on Sutan’s every word, when he followed him everywhere like a loyal puppy, when he would have done anything and said everything to get his attention.

In the beginning, Karl had allowed himself to cling to the foolish hope that his friend would some day reciprocate his feelings, that Sutan would look at him and realize that he had all he needed had been by his side the entire time.

There had been a few kisses, here and there, but they had always happened during parties where heavy drinking and hard drugs were involved, and it was nothing they ever talked about sober.

Karl grabbed a bowl, filling it with chips before he got a couple of beers from the fridge, making his way back to his friend.

The sad fact of the matter was that Sutan, in spite of being incredibly chill and a little bit flexible, was actually depressingly straight.

Which was why Karl now lived in London.

He handed over a can of Pilsner, and slid down onto the couch beside Sutan.

“You’re the best-” Sutan smiled, leaning against his side, taking a sip from his can.

“So…” Karl bit his lip, Sutan smelling of sandalwood and man. “Who is she? Another socialite?“

“Who?”

“The girl you’re texting.”

“Ah.” Sutan looked up, his head resting on Karl’s shoulder. “No.”

Normally, Sutan didn’t mind sharing his conquests, the man an absolute idiot when it came to picking up clues, so he had never noticed how uncomfortable it made Karl, but this time, he was being uncharacteristically quiet about his new mystery woman, which made Karl even more suspicious.

“Is she a model?”

“No!” Sutan gasped, pulling back and sitting up. “Of course not!”

He actually looked offended, and Karl couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Come on man,” Sutan clapped his knee, his palm warm. “Who do you think I am? It’s against The Rule.”

“Well,” Karl shrugged, “Rules were made to be broken,” he said with a mischievous grin. It was something everyone knew about Sutan, that he never ever ever dated models. Karl would never have guessed that it would have given his friend an edge, but models seemed to truly trust him, Sutan somehow managing a calm and kind friend of the family vibe that Karl simply couldn’t replicate, nevermind the fact that he was literally gay.

“She’s not a model.” Sutan settled back down, this time leaning against the armrest of the couch. “She’s…” Sutan sighed. “She’s ignoring me.”

Karl couldn’t help but feel a twinge of resentment. Sutan looked genuinely distressed, and now that he thought about it, he had seen Sutan check his phone more than usual.

“Really?”

Did she not know what an amazing guy she had? Karl doubted it.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday.”

“Hmm.” Karl pursed his lips. “Wonder why.” He had learned long ago, even before the disastrous engagement, never to actively insult or give his true opinion on the women in Sutan’s life until after they were well out of it.

Not that they ever stuck around for long, the demands of Sutan’s job, his friends and his family always too much for them.

“I just don’t understand.” Sutan whined, the man always a little over-dramatic while drunk. “I’m a catch, right? Karl, be honest.”

“You’re adequate.”

“Karrrl…” Sutan groaned, grabbing his elbow to shake it. Karl’s smile would have broken through had the buzzer not rang just that moment with their perfect, greasy, midnight fast food delivery.

“Food’s here!” Karl jumped up, slapping Sutan’s shoulder in the process.

***

“...and like, he’s just so nice. Did I tell you that he texts me every morning just to say good morning and every night to ask how my day went?”

“Yup, you did,” Adore said. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and she was sprawled on her bed with her guitar, plucking out random melodies, while Courtney waxed poetic about her perfect new boyfriend and how wonderful and attentive and funny he was.

Adore knew that she wasn’t intentionally rubbing it in, but it still stung. She’d slept with Pearl over a week ago, and hadn’t gotten so much as a single text, whereas Courtney had already been out with Willam twice and apparently texted every day.

“Well, anyway…” Courtney trailed off, climbing over to Adore. “I guess I’ve been rambling, huh?”

“A little,” Adore said, looking over at her with a rueful smile. “But it’s cool. He sounds great, and you deserve it.”

“Thanks,” Courtney said, curling up beside her. “The only weird thing is…We still haven’t…”

“Fucked?”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“That’s not that weird,” Adore said. “You’ve been on what, two dates? He’s probably just used to girls who aren’t as...giving as you.”

Adore reached over to pat Courtney on the head.

“Ha ha. And yeah, that’s true. But we haven’t even...kissed, really.”

“You haven’t kissed?!” Adore asked.

“No, I mean, we’ve kissed. But we haven’t like...kissed, you know?”

“I love it when you talk in code,” Adore laughed.

“It’s just like...not real kisses. It’s like the kind of kisses I’d give my parents. Or my brother. Like this.” Courtney leaned forward to demonstrate, giving Adore a quick, dry peck on the lips.

“You kiss your brother on the mouth?!” Adore exclaimed, eyes wide with horror.

“You don’t kiss your siblings?”

“Not on the mouth!”

“So you’ve never kissed, um, Bianca, on the mouth?” Courtney asked, a bit of pink creeping into her cheeks.

“With the filthy places her mouth has been?! Hell fucking no.”

Courtney laughed, hugging a pillow to her chest, cheeks now blazing red. “Okay, well, I think we’re getting sidetracked. The point is...I like Willam. But I don’t know...”

“I guess. But, maybe he’s just shy.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe…” Courtney sighed. “What about you?”

“What about me? I’m definitely not shy.”

“No, I mean, any new developments in your love life?” Courtney asked carefully, as if there would be anything she didn’t already know.

Adore could tell that as supportive as Courtney was, she was a bit reticent to get fully onboard the Pearl Liaison train. She’s been dropping little hints here and there about Pearl being a player--hints which Adore had ignored. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about Pearl’s reputation. It’s that she didn’t fucking care.

Pearl was amazing in bed, cool and funny, and incredibly sexy, and Adore was prepared to have her heart ripped out of her chest.

If only she could get a second date.

“Ugh, no.” Adore sat up, setting her guitar aside with a groan. “I’m a fucking disaster as usual. Pearl still hasn’t called.”

“Well...she is traveling right now. Maybe she’s just really busy,” Courtney said, and Adore smiled, appreciating her attempt, however small, to defend Adore’s ridiculous infatuation.

“Yeah, maybe. But Bianca calls me whenever she goes abroad, even when she goes somewhere stupid like Japan, or like… Siberia or something.”

“I’m pretty sure your sister has never been to Siberia,” Courtney laughed.

“You don’t know her.”

“True…” Courtney bit her lip, then added, “I kind of wish I did, though.”

Adore tilted her head, looking at her curiously. Of course, her sister was one of her favorite people on the planet, and had been for as far back as she could remember. So hearing that her bestie liked her probably shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She seems cool.” Courtney picked at the comforter.

“Well, of course she’s cool. She’s related to me,” Adore said, and Courtney grinned.

“Exactly!”

“Annnnd...she’s having this big birthday party next month. Some crazy-ass, fancy thing at the Guggenheim. You should come, be my date.”

“Oh, I don’t...I don’t know, Adore.”

“Why not?!”

“Well...won’t like, my bosses all be there? It’s a little weird.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Adore said. “But listen, it’ll be a huge crowd. And if you come, Bianca will give me so much less shit than usual, since she actually likes you.”

Courtney’s eyes widened. “She does? Did she say that?”

“No, but I would definitely know if she didn’t,” Adore assured her. “You know Laila? She hasn’t seen her for years, but she still calls her ‘that garbage-faced slut.’”

Courtney burst out laughing, asking cheekily, “Is she wrong?”

“Hey!” Adore hit Courtney in the face with a pillow, knocking her onto her back. “Be nice!”  

***

Violet groaned, taking a step back from the window. She bit her lip, flipping through the pictures she had just taken of herself on her phone.

Sutan had asked what she was wearing in a text, and while Violet normally hated getting her picture taken, and never took selfies in any shape or form, she was doing her best to attempt just that.

If anyone else had asked, Violet would have shut it down instantly, but even though Sutan had sent along a winky face, the text didn’t read to her as something sexual, the message more a joke than a serious request to see her in her underwear--or even worse, naked.

Violet wanted to make Sutan happy, wanted to play along with his game, but as she looked at the photos, she cringed; she had no idea how models, influencers or even normal people made taking pictures seem so easy.

She sighed, getting back in position in front of the window, Max always telling her how important light was for a good photo. It felt wrong to be standing in Fame’s office, but she wasn’t touching anything, the background only a crisp white carpet.

Violet thought that it had been hard having an almost boyfriend during Fashion Week, but what she had not expected was how Sutan being abroad felt about a million times worse, the fact that he was now in Milan and not London not making it any better at all.

She wasn’t a texter by nature, the fact that Sutan had messaged her not even crossing her mind for the first 48 hours. They had talked on the phone, and texted back and forth, but it wasn’t the same and she missed him. She missed Sutan, longed to see his smile and hear his voice, a phone call or even Facetime not the same at all.

She missed feeling his hands on her body, his weight on top of hers.  

Violet pulled her hair over her shoulder, twisted her shoulder, lifting her phone, ready to try again, when she spotted something in the corner of the screen.

Courtney was leaning against the doorframe, an infuriating smile on her face.

“Shit!” Violet jumped, dropping her phone before she whirled around. “I wasn’t-” Violet held up her hand, her stomach tight with embarrassment. “This, it’s, I-  Don’t tell anyone. Please”

“As if,” Courtney's annoying grin deepened. "You don't have to be embarrassed, Vi.”

Violet almost opened her mouth to reprimand her, the other again acting way too familiar for Violet’s comfort, when she continued talking.

“It's not like you had your top off."

"What-” Violet could feel her cheeks heat up, her entire face going red. “I'd never-” Violet left Fame’s office, closing the door behind her. “Don’t say that.”

"Never?” Courtney giggled, skipping forward to perch on the edge of Violet's desk. “Why not?"

"That's not-” Violet wanted to say that it wasn’t any of Courtney’s business, that she should watch her attitude, but the other looked genuinely interested, like she actually cared about the why. “I don't have that kind of body."

“Please,” Courtney scoffed. "You have an amazing body, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not very-" Violet wasn’t sure if she wanted to say the word. She knew she wasn't hideous, that she could dress herself, that she was pretty if you were into her type, which Sutan thankfully was. "Very sexy."

Courtney looked genuinely confused, and Violet almost wanted to sigh.

Of course she didn’t understand her; Violet wasn’t sure why she thought, even for a second, that she would.

Everything about Courtney was dainty and feminine and all the things that a girl was supposed to be. From the way she walked to the way she dressed to the way she sat on the edge of Violet’s desk with her legs crossed coyly.

Everything about Courtney screamed that she was hot, fun, flirty, and knew it. She hadn’t even batted an eye when those suits drooled all over her in the cafeteria; she’d probably been told she was beautiful every day she’d been alive.

"Violet…” Courtney smiled, something that looked disgustingly like pity in her gaze. “I really hate to be the one to break this to you. I mean, someone probably should have already told you, like a long time ago, but…you're really hot." Courtney grinned playfully, twirling her hair. "Like, really really, really hot."

Violet almost snorted. She had been called pretty, beautiful, Sutan often telling her she was gorgeous or lovely, her style most often described as elegant and classy, but being called hot, and even really hot, was not something she’d experienced.

"Thanks." Violet bent down to pick up her phone. "I'll keep that in mind." Part of her wanted to forget the whole selfie business, to not even attempt it again, but Sutan deserved it, and she wanted to do something for him.

“Let me know if you change your mind about the topless thing. I have a lot of experience in that area,” Courtney said.

“What-” Violet’s head snapped up, horror all over her face. “Get off my desk!”

“Sorry.” Courtney slid down with a giggle.

[nutbanana]

haha whewwwwwww sis slap zimzalabim gays hello laid ease ! name is yuno title is local ghosting legend pronouns r she/her nd we are stuck with nutbanana until i come up w a sexie url <3 this is gna be new for those of u who know me but i’m gna be putting everything into a read more for now instead of slapping 3 links nd calling it a day so hold my hand 😳😳 and for those of u who don’t know me i have two hands for a Reason haha,, nd my disco is @ daddy yankee#7776 ! add me let’s go feral nd if u wna plot send me ur favorite heart emoji here or on disco <3

*   //   𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 …   /𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙼𝙰𝙽/𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 : umeko saito, also known as hermes, is wanted for grand larceny. she is a twenty two year old female who has ties to the mastermind because of a charity event she was the face of.   𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  : expensive fancy dresses, flirty stares from across the room, signing with red lipstick, a glass of champagne with diamonds in it. 𝙳𝙾 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚁  : minatozaki sana.

01.    background info.

pinterest board ─── umeko saito, twenty two, up-and-coming actress, doesn’t like to label her orientation, would definitely be part of cherry twitter

full list of aesthetics so far ( core to what shaped her ) : eating fruit on a balcony in your silk pyjamas, signing with red lipstick, strap of your dress snapping, flirty stares from across the room, a glass of champagne with diamonds in it, cherries seductively held between lips, expensive fancy dresses

umeko was born and raised into one of the most expensive neighborhoods in manhattan, daughter to a magnate and a socialité nobody thought would get too far together. luxury was the norm from the get go, and the low profile kept by her parents didn’t quite make their name go unnoticed among the elite of new york. summers were spent in the hamptons and on expensive trips, walk-in wardrobe stranger to everything below high-end and glasses of champagne coming in early

stardom was always in the back of her head. she loves being the center of attention, all eyes on her for as long as she can attrack them, and so the hunger only grew bigger the older she got. in her young, twisted mind, there wasn’t anything more eternal than the ineradicable link between character and actor, and she loves playing the role. the first real taste of fame came only a few years ago, and it became insatiable almost insantly. she’s been on the rise ever since and has scored quite a few big roles to be proud of

j came into the picture at a point in umeko’s life where she was having fun, but it wasn’t enough. something more exciting, more thrilling was missing. and so they met at a charity event where rich people feel like they’re contributing something to society by bidding big money for famous paintings where umeko was one of the faces of said event. she did not hesitate to join him. after all, it makes her feel like she’s playing an even bigger, more dangerous role

her code name has a lot to do with her as a person ! as a lil taste before getting to it, initially, it was going to be loki, the most infamous trickster, but she felt it gave too much away too fast, and although she felt it was the perfect code name, she opted for someone whose trickster label got overshadowed by more important duties, and so it came to be hermes, who, in a way, is also perfect for her

02.    personality breakdown.

umeko is........ an experience. she may be fun she may be chaotic

umeko saito’s biggest role is life itself, and she will die a legend or risk becoming a fraud. she was born yearning for attention, and she was born a trickster. she has always been manipulative, loved fooling and playing with people and twisting the narrative of herself, enamouring ( trapping ) others, a strange desire to be the dream girl. and she took it upon herself to make the world her personal stage. and maybe she has played the role for so long she has lost a bit of herself on the way, who knows !

everybody’s sweetheart, looks like a saint ─── yet is the devil holding a halo above their head. she loves to stir shit up, always up to something. won’t hesitate to create a scene if it’s needed, asked of her or solely because she’s bored. a lot of her boils down to being, getting bored. she’s a bit batshit, a bit unhinged <3

umeko is flirty. she likes to flirt, it’s fun, it’s another way to fool people, it’s entertaining, it feeds onto this being the girl of people’s dreams thing. it gets her things and opens ways for her, and she thrives off getting people hooked on her, specially men who think they got a chance with her ( they don’t )

she acts like a bimbo and surely looks like it but may not be one. or maybe she is. she could be a baby bimbo. an oblivious bimbo who plays the role of bimbo in real life. you decide because i can’t JKDGVDS

she’s dramatic to the v bone in more ways than one, loves bringing attention to herself and playing dumb, playing clumsy, an airhead, and she’s a bit of everything ( dumb, clumsy, airhead ), but she knows how to exaggerate it to her gain. u won’t catch her calling herself any of that tho

there really isn’t a big scheme, a big story, a trauma behind umeko’s behavior, some people are simply born certain way and she thrives off being this antagonistic, trickster being just because

03.    headcanons.

she lives by herself in a duplex penthouse located on the top floor somewhere in manhattan, she bought it with her first big paycheck. she also has a smaller ( to...... her standards ) apartment she got for her 18th birthday from her parents, and it’s where she takes flings or people who aren’t that close to her as not to disclose her real home

she’s the type to break the strap of her dress before walking out of a store with paparazzis waiting outside for her and pose like she’s marilyn monroe fighting against a burst of air with her white dress, and she’s like “omg no ! the strap of my snapped ! what to do ! don’t take pics or maybe do aha x”

most definitely checks tabloids and stuff after she pulls one of those numbers to grab attention so she can see the reactions And the pics. also probably has a neat instagram feed

she’s the epitome of “all girls do is 🥺🥺🥺🥺” and “girls always trynna ‘🥺🥺🥺‘ their way out of everything”. that’s her

loves cute two pieces pyjamas. silk ones, velvet ones, lace ones, and especially the see-through robes with fur you pair up with cute lingerie and pieces. when at home she’s usually in those, long robe big fur glass of wine in hand, and if not she’s wearing an expensive baddie dress she has no business wearing for no reason

she enjoys dating on and off, having flings, random sex. usually nothing too serious and without too many strings to get tangled in. would she be able to commit ? yes, probably, she daydreams about it sometimes, but it wouldn’t be so easy

despite umeko’s passion for creating a scene and stirring up the pot, she isn’t mean, nor is she someone who is found in conflicts or fights often, if at all. she tends to get along well with everyone ─── she’s playful, a bit crazy, and fairly outgoing. she’s nice despite all her antics. but there is one person that brings out the worst of her, though: nandy freda richardson, fellow new york city socialité with a shared feud going twenty years strong ! they have known each other since they were little and it has kept escalating ever since 💔 it ranges from petty, insignificant antics to more serious, real shit stuff. the catalyst ? nandy somehow managing to make umeko lose a minor role on a small movie she was really anticipating. umeko’s response ? selling her out to aspen when he came asking for more intel on rich people he could rob: she gave him all the information he needed, carefully crafted a foolproof plan then gifted aspen an all - expenses luxury vacation to a destination of his choice <3 umeko was like yeah ? ok i lose my role and you lose your safety money and that one of a kind dress i wanted aha x

when she was sixteen her then boyfriend cheated on her with some chick. the lad pulled the infamous move of playing single and messing with the girl’s heart, so she was unaware of their relationship and was left as mortified as umeko. umeko, though, felt humiliated and, above everything, disrespected, and she also felt for the other girl who was just as much a victim as herself. so umeko made sure he regretted even thinking of disgracing their worth and set for revenge: over the span of a few years she snatched five consecutive girlfriends, one after the other <3 she also kept a good relationship with the girl he cheated on her with