#their personalities are a bit similar too definitely veering off in some places

[twiggyrogue]

I love Kabru Dungeon Meshi so much, both as his own character, but also because he looks exactly like a very dear old DnD char of mine. I am so fed by Labru artists, unintentionally giving my beloved gay lad so much love ;v;

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.

Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.

GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.

AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.

GT: Although some people think it is.

Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.

AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.

Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.

Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.

AL: Unlike certain people.

How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.

AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time – we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.

Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.

GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.

Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.

GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.

How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.

GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”

And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.

You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.

AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.

GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.

There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.

GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.

How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.

GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.

Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.

GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.

AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.

GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.

What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.

AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.

GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.

There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.

GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”

AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.

GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”

How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.

GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.

Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.

---

Omg the mug’s origins :D

‘GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael. ‘

[shihalyfie]

Hello! Since you seem to be getting a lot of character comparison asks, I figured I’d ask if you have any thoughts on the similarities and differences between Ken and Koichi, and also their relationship with darkness? At first glance they seem very similar but I feel the way they view darkness- and perhaps the darker parts of themselves- differs quite a bit.

The two of them definitely have similar base profiles at first, but start to really veer off in different directions after that!

I think the one thing that's most different between the two is that, quite simply, their "base personalities" -- that is, how they act in normal situations separated from all the stuff going on with Digimon fighting -- are actually fairly different to begin with. One thing that might surprise people is that Kouichi actually uses the more assertive/aggressive pronoun ore, contrary to what his supposedly “shy” personality might suggest (of the Frontier boys, only Tomoki uses the more polite boku, and I think it’s in line with Frontier generally portraying its kids as less naturally well-behaved and a bit more misfit). Kouichi’s “shyness” in Frontier is really implied to just be out of the circumstances of him being a bit awkward around the kids he’d been fighting for a period, and especially not sure how to approach Kouji, but Things I Want to Tell You implies that he’d actually had a full-on social friend circle (mentioning friends at school and playing soccer). The only part that made him “out of place” like the other Frontier kids was really the part right before the series, when he learned he’d had a brother, had to question what that implied, started fostering feelings of jealousy towards him, and ended up “passed over” for being chosen instead of how Kouji was, but for the most part his personality doesn’t seem to be that fundamentally different from Kouji’s (there's a point made in a scene in Frontier episode 40 where the twins are looking at Takuya with nearly the exact same expression).

Ken, on the other hand, does use the polite pronoun boku, and although he’s still a fairly casual person (his speech pattern is slightly more casual than Takeru’s), he is kind of...a polite nerd, for lack of a better way to put it. That penchant for intellectuality wasn’t entirely the Dark Seed’s doing -- he’s gone on infamous “trivial fact” spiels like about the origin of Christmas or Japanese hot springs. In contrast to the more easygoing Daisuke, he takes things really seriously, and one could describe him as “so overly serious about things he sometimes rolls into stupid”. He’s also rather tidy (he puts his chopsticks neatly on the bowl when eating, his Digital World outfit is his school uniform, he’s constantly tucking in both his summer and winter blouses, and even his Kizuna outfits are slightly formal), and because he does seem to carry himself softly, he has a stronger image of being a “nice and polite person” who doesn’t act roughly by default. Less so because he can’t be rough or aggressive, but more because he doesn’t want to be -- you can think of him as basically holding back his cards until the time is right or stronger force is called for (meaning he can seem mild-mannered, until he suddenly drops some sassy zingers right when you least expect it).

There are some similarities that go beyond their base profiles; it’s interesting how “jealousy” seems to be part of both of their initial motivations (and, in an interesting meta twist, one of the original ideas for Ken and Osamu was for them to be twins). However, as you said, they have a somewhat differing attitude in terms of what “darkness” is, and a lot of it has to do with a combination of what that even means in Adventure/02′s narrative versus Frontier’s, and what that meant to each of them personally. Ken had an outright self-inflicted identity crisis and an awareness that his fall came from his own personal vices, and the issue is casted in Adventure/02 as a problem of “balance”; Ken himself understands in 02 episode 23 that he has to accept everything in himself, and Takeru reminds him in 02 episode 37 that you can’t eradicate it entirely, but Ken of course retains an aversion to contexts where they’re obviously too much in excess. Kouichi, on the other hand, was probably not going to have a complete emotional meltdown to that degree had it not been for Cherubimon’s interference (although he still wasn’t necessarily having a great time), so being free from that influence means that, with his head cleared, he’s able to confidently deny going back there again and have faith in his ability to use it for good, especially because the part keeping it balanced -- his brother Kouji, as the light -- is able to be there and fight alongside him. His problem was addressed by learning to work alongside and get to know said brother, instead of living in jealousy of him.

It’s also interesting to see how their future plans end up going, since we now have “distant future” canon material for both 02 and Frontier; Ken had “expectations” put on him to the point it practically ripped him apart and gave him an outright identity crisis, so his future involves him allowing himself to not have to live to expectations nearly as much; by the time of Kizuna, he’s still dabbling in soccer and various hobbies and being chaotic with his friends, his “psychology” degree is not even mentioned anywhere except in his official profiles because of how much it’s a comparative non-issue in his life at the moment, and while he’s certainly still selfless, he’s still at the point where being able to just enjoy life as it is at all is a big deal. Even if he hasn’t found a goal in life to completely commit to yet, at the very least, he has the other members of the 02 group to support him, and it’s still important that he’s dedicating his efforts to supporting them in turn. Kouichi, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about that kind of identity crisis, but he did have to worry about seeing his mother’s selfless streak meaning she was constantly ruining her health for others -- so, having taken on some of that selflessness, he’s decided to single-mindedly pursue a dream of going to medical school to help his mother. Keep in mind that he arguably has an even higher hurdle than our other single-minded prospective doctor, Kido Jou, because unlike the Kido family’s existing esteemed line, Kouichi’s not-exactly-well-to-do background means he’d had to scrounge up funds by being a paper boy while he was at it -- so that’s a pretty big uphill battle he’s taking, but he’s doing it because he knows that’s what he wants, and he also has his brother properly keeping up with him, and in touch with both him and his family situation.

[turtle-steverogers]

Hey pal, I'm a bit sad, so if you're up for it kill me with saaaaad stucky headcanons because you're absolutely awesome at them. (No pressure tho, love ya <3)

hello friend! love ya too! i'm sorry to hear that you're a bit sad-- i'm here if you'd like to talk!

after some deliberation, i have decided to use this particular headcanon of mine:

-So one day around the holidays, Steve and Bucky go out on a little day trip to some shops in upstate New York

-It's a cute little outdoor mall type place with coffee shops and string lights and an ice skating rink at one end, which is a much needed change of pace from the usual bustle of the city

-Of course, they get some treats at one of the cafes and take to the streets after, bundled in similar winter sweaters and walking at a leisurely pace, arm in arm and hands warming around hot coffee cups

-They window shop a bit, deliberate over gifts, and enjoy the peaceful air, and all in all, it's a nice area but it's not until they come across an antique store at the end of the strip

-It's a humble looking store with three levels-- an upstairs and a basement-- and a warm glow to the whole establishment. Books are grouped in one corner, a sign near the basement boasts clothes down the stairs. Old jewelry lays in cases along the middle of the store

-Naturally, they veer off from one another, taken by different things within the store. Steve finds himself wandering through the old record section and into the art supplies, which enthralls him for a while as he combed through old products that didn't seem so old to him. Except now they're worn and delicate-- another thing allowed to grow through time naturally while he was cursed to miss it

-Just beyond the room, there's a section filled with children's toys-- old rocking horses and wooden toys, still somehow more modern than what he grew up with. There's a section with dolls and dollhouses and he barely registers that he's moved before he comes back to himself holding one of the small dolls

-Steve turns over the doll, running his thumb over the worn features of its face. It is dressed in a colorful pink and yellow smock, a pink bonnet secured over its blond ringlet curls. He recognizes it as a Lenci Doll; Becca had some that she'd let Steve play with her when he'd come over the times that Bucky wasn't around. He'd wanted a set of his own, loving the idea of nurturing and loving something so sweetly, and he'd asked one day while out with his ma and pa-- a rare outing they'd taken as the three of them to the shops if his pa were sober for once. He winces, remembering the disgusted look on his father's face, the reservation on his ma's. It was the first heartbreak he could truly remember, and he didn't understand why it was so wrong to want a doll. How different was it from his teddy bear? Or army men?

I'm telling you, Sarah. He's gonna turn out a little queer.

Eyes suddenly burning, he grips the doll tighter.

"Got a whole collection of those, we have. A big find."

Steve jumps, blinking away the wetness in his eyes as he glanced to the side. An older man is standing next to him, dressed in a red sweater vest and sporting horn rimmed glasses. He has a name tag on, clearly an employee there.

"Oh, cool," he says, unsure of what else to say.

"Got a niece or something? I bet she'd love that."

Okay, so he hasn't recognized Steve. Thank god, honestly. He can't imagine what it would be like to find Captain fucking America holding a goddamn baby doll.

"Oh, uh, just-- just looking. It, uh, reminded me of my ma," which isn't exactly a lie. He looks back down at the doll, stomach aching. Would his ma have even wanted him to have the doll? His father had made it clear enough, but he can't read the memories of his ma all the time. What she might have thought of his queerness.

"How sweet," the man says. "Well, we sell them for cheap considering how much they go out for on the market-- only twenty dollars."

Steve shifts his feet, nodding. He doesn't want this man talking to him anymore. He feels oddly exposed.

"Cool," he says again.

Luckily, Bucky catches up to Steve then, holding a stack of dime store sci fi novels, and an old leather jacket that reminds Steve of one George Barnes used to wear. He wonders briefly if that's why Bucky had chosen it

Hastily, he puts down the doll before Bucky can see, but Bucky knows him better than anyone and he catches the movement

"Whatcha got there, pal?" he asks, reaching past Steve to pick up the doll.

Steve blushes, scuffing a shoe.

"It's nothing, it's dumb," he says, quickly, eyes landing back on the doll. He wants to reach for it again. "Just... Becs used to have those, remember?"

Bucky's eyebrows furrow and he glances down at the doll, thumb smoothing over the cheek. "Yeah, she was real protective of them. Never let me touch them unless I was helping her fix the tangles from one's hair."

Steve frowns, an old, irrational tinge of jealousy curling around his gut. He wishes he'd had one to be protective of. "I used it play it with her when I was real young still and-- and I'd come over when... you weren't around," he says. "Used to want one of my own..." He bites his lip, frowning. "I asked for one once when I went out with my ma and dad." Shrugging, he laughs dryly. "Definitely didn't get a doll that day."

He shakes his head, eyes downcast. It really was dumb, ruminating over this now.

"It's okay," he says, giving Bucky a brave smile. Bucky's watching him with an unreadable look on his face-- Steve thinks it might be anger, but there's a certain sadness there, too. "It doesn't matter, um... I'm going to check out the clothes."

-The subject is left alone for the time being. Steve clearly doesn't want to talk about it, but Bucky stays behind, watching Steve's retreating back. He looks down at the doll, smoothing his thumb over the cheek again, and thinks of Steve-- six or seven, maybe-- hoping for a doll. Innocently asking, only to be denied. He doesn't know much of the specifics about what went down in the Rogers' household, but he knows there was a lot of pain. A lot of denial. A lot of anger. He glances one more time at Steve, across the store now, and tucks the doll under his arm, hidden in the jacket.

-Christmas morning comes with a quiet morning together. Breakfast prepared while snow falls outside their apartment, personal gifts exchanged, and some soft music playing in the background.

"I think there's one more gift, honey," Bucky says, pointing to a small bag under the tree.

Steve frowns and reaches for it. It's not heavy, but it clearly has some weight to it. He glances up at Bucky, a questioning frown on his face, even as a smile lights his eyes. He carefully unpacks the tissue paper and reaches inside and--

Oh. Oh.

His eyes fill with tears as he looks down at the doll, her blonde ringlets still tucked underneath that pink bonnet. Her weight is warm in his palm. Instinctively, he holds her to his chest.

"It isn't dumb," Bucky murmurs after a long moment. He'd wanted to say that that day, but Steve had walked away. "You deserve her, Steve. You deserved her then, and you're allowed her now. You always should have been. I'm sorry you were ever not allowed to be yourself."

Steve is crying now as he reaches for Bucky, and then they're hugging, his face tucked into the crook of Bucky's neck. A doll won't fix the pain his father inflicted, but Bucky will always be his safe place. That space where he can be authentically and undeniably himself.

"Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you."

Bucky holds him tighter. "Always."

[three--rings]

Alice in Borderland (2020) Review/Thoughts

So I’ve just finished watching S1 of this Netflix/Japanese drama and, well I’m going to talk about it.  I’m not going to spoil anything major, but I’ll be talking about my feelings about the show, etc.

The premise is once again, like Squid Game, part of one of my favorite tropes: The Deadly Game (which I guess is the official TVTropes name for it, so I’ll just go with that.)  Our hapless protagonist is pulled into a strange reality where everyone is forced to participate in games to win more days of life.  So yeah, I’ve been really in the mood for this trope since Squid Game and that’s how I ended up here.

First of all, let’s get some trigger warnings out of the way.  Because this show has a LOT of them.  If you have issues with dark, violent content, this is not the show for you.  Every episode features a good amount of violence and death and moderate gore.  Like, a good amount of blood, people getting injured, but nothing really GROSS.  I can’t take heavy gore myself and didn’t have a problem with that aspect of this series, but it’s kinda...IDK Tarantino levels of violence.

It’s definitely a horror series, much more so than something like Squid Game, IMO.  Heavy on the psychological horror, which is my preferred type, so, this is why I showed up.  It’s got quite a lot of HEART-WRENCHING sadness to it, too.  Like, if you like tragedy and being emotionally compromised, I recommend it.  I absolutely couldn’t binge this series because I needed a significant BREAK a couple of times. 

Other less general triggers: one scene of (pretty lengthy) attempted rape, suicide and suicidal ideation, death of friends, depictions of transphobia and mass shootings.  (Seriously there’s a lengthy bit of mass shooting situation that is fucking EERILY similar to school shooting events and I’m sure that was intentional, but fuck....yeah.) 

One thing I personally was sorta dreading throughout was that there would be some sort of Saw or Seven-esque torture scenarios where people would be forced to harm themselves or each other, and thankfully there was NOT.  The show (and presumably the manga) seems to veer pretty decidedly towards the psychological and away from the physical.  Even the games that seem the most physical end up having sorta intellectual or psychological solutions.

So, okay, one of the differences in this show (and again manga, which I’m going to stop saying from now on) from other works in this micro-genre that I’ve read is that the situation is far more mysterious.  Usually people are abducted by some group/person and taken to some closed off location where things play out, but in this one, loser gamer Arisu and his two loser best friends are in the middle of Harajuku and then suddenly everyone else is gone and there’s no electricity and they are alone in an empty world.  The only place they encounter other people (at least at first) are in the game arenas, parts of Tokyo that light up at night to attract players. 

So rather than clearly being the act of other humans, this is already beyond the level of believably.  Everyone in Tokyo does not disappear due to act of humans.  So what is going on?  Is this somehow supernatural?  Metaphysical? Aliens?  Virtual Reality?  It’s clearly SOMETHING, but there’s not a lot of indication as to WHAT. 

And the tone for most of the season is...well, pretty fucking bleak.  I got the sense early on that this might be a show without much of a message.  That this might just be spectacle.  And while I found it compelling, and the games incredibly tense, I wasn’t sure I was going to end up LIKING it a huge amount. 

To contrast it with Squid Game, which I’m assuming most humans have seen by now, that show has a clear point of view and Thesis from the beginning.  It lets us know by episode two what the main point is going to be: “No matter how bad this game looks, the real world is just as cruel to the downtrodden.” 

On the other hand, I didn’t see a point in Alice in Borderland at first.  Other than, perhaps, nihilism.  Humans can be monsters, humans will do anything to survive.  Which isn’t, I suppose, a useless point.  But it’s not one that I thought would end up being super satisfying to me as a viewer.

But I have to say that I was fairly wrong.  And I found that the show gains more meaning as it goes on.  There’s still definitely a LOT about the will to survive and sorta taking a practical, survival-oriented approach to life.  And a look at the value of that clenched-teeth pushing past a point of wanting to die.  I mean, very much this first season is about Arisu figuring out whether he wants to survive at all and WHY he might want to do so.  What the point of survival might be.

And ultimately, I feel like the season does land really well, with a thematic tying together that works nicely. 

Plus, as to the central mystery, there’s a really well-done amount of development where more and more little pieces of information about how this world works are received, without REALLY revealing much about the basic underlying WHY of it all.  It sets up a season 2 (coming in 2022??) really well.

It left me interested enough to know What Happens that...I may be on vol 3 of the manga right now.  To compare the two...they are fairly close.  The first game is different, and some of the character backgrounds are slightly different.  For one they aged up the characters to be early 20s instead of high school students (thankfully because...some of the shit is even more disturbing if these are kids.)  There’s some blatant fanservice/sexism taken away (because it’s a manga from 2010 sigh...) and they made good choices like NOT having the main female character be in a school girl uniform the whole time.  Otherwise it seems a fairly faithful adaptation, though I’ve barely dug into the story.

And one thing that I mentioned in the triggers and want to elaborate on: this show has probably the most positive trans rep and most sensitive depiction I’ve seen in Japanese media so far?  Going into further detail would really be spoiler territory, but I’ll just say I was impressed.  The transphobia is via a flashback backstory and it’s pretty harsh, but it is brief and is used as character motivation in a way that felt sympathetic.  I’m not trans and not an expert on Japanese trans rep, but this sidestepped the typical unfortunate tropes I’ve seen in the past. 

So anyway, IF this sounds like your kind of thing I recommend it.  It’s definitely not going to be for everyone, but it’s absolutely worth a watch if you’re intrigued. It’s well made, with good acting and good writing/pacing/directing.   It’s really living in my head the last couple days...

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 29: “Frontline Base”

Even heroes need some downtime. Show us what the schoolyard crew gets up to when they’re not saving the world or studying for finals. Sleepovers perhaps?

BROT4 GOOOO!

Seven pages of pure, nonsensical fluff.

Jesse jerks as the door bangs open and Christina leans in, breathless and giddy. “Jay, movie night at Lexi’s!”

“Sweetness!” Jaden scrambles to his feet, all but abandoning the cards spread out between them as he sweeps his deck back into its box.

Hold up. “What?” Jesse glances between his new friends in confusion.

“We watch movies in Alexis’ room,” Jaden says like this is a perfectly natural occurrence.

“Yeah, no, I got that.” Jesse frowns, trying to think back to the rules and regulations sheet he’d been handed at orientation. “I thought guys weren’t allowed at the Girls’ Dorm?”

Jaden makes finger quotes and winks. “You coming?” he asks, already halfway out the door. Christina shouts at him to hurry up from the distance.

Oh, okay. So this is a thing. “Sure.” Collecting his own cards, Jesse slots them all neatly into his deck box. He isn’t about to turn down an open invitation, arbitrary rules be damned. Christina hangs out down here enough.

The smile Jaden gives him looks like a miniature sun. Then he charges down the stairs after Christina. Jesse hurries to catch up.

*

The Slifer Dorm and Obelisk Girls’ Dorm are the farthest from each other, so it’s a fair bit of a walk. Jesse tries to pay attention to the route to remember it later and fails, because it’s either that or lose track of what his new friends are saying. As it is, the pair use terms that Jesse isn’t familiar with yet. Christina’s quick enough to translate or explain as best she can; Jaden’s English is a lost cause.

The building finally comes into sight. Jaden immediately veers off to the side as they approach and makes a choked noise as Christina grabs him by the collar. “It’s a different room!” she hisses and proceeds to lead them around the back of the building.

“Right…”

They enter through a tiny door that Jesse would bet money students aren’t even supposed to know exists and weave their way through the hallways up to the second floor. The layout is definitely different than the Obelisk Boys’ Dorm from what little time he’s spent there. Still stupidly posh. Jaden charges headfirst into the room as soon as Christina points to it.

“Yo, Lexi! First movie night of the year!” He flops face first into the mattress. “Man have I missed these beds.”

“Nice to see you too.” Alexis huffs with a grin, glancing up from the adjacent desk as Jesse shuts the door behind himself. She visibly startles at the sight of him, and Jesse freezes as he considers for the first time that he might have received the invite from the wrong person.

Well, shit. This just got awkward.

“Oh, right, uh-” Sitting up, Jaden glances between Alexis and Jesse before giving Alexis a big, cheesy grin that looks nothing short of terrified. “-plus one? If you don’t mind.”

Surprisingly, Alexis relaxes with no more than a breath. “It’s fine. Just send me a heads up next time.”

“Heads up!” Jaden chirps with another smile made of sunlight. No idea what that means, but Christina starts giggling and Alexis shakes her head like an exasperated parent. She doesn’t seem mad though, so Jesse figures it’s safe to join Christina by the couch instead of letting his Beasts guide him back to his own room for the night.

“You’ve got a single room this year,” Jaden says, glancing around the space. It looks a lot like the one Jesse was given - really big and really empty with far too much space for a single person.

“Yeah. I got one too, not that I’ll be using it.” Christina shrugs as Jaden hops off the bed and belines toward the window.

“You’ll probably end up crashing here when you’re not at the Slifer Dorm,” Alexis agrees, clicking out of the program she had open on her computer before standing.

Christina beams. “You know me so well.”

“You have a balcony!”

“Which is why-” Alexis holds out a key between her and Christina, seemingly ignoring the Slifer leaning out her window. “-I got an extra.”

Squealing, Christina snatches the key and hugs the other girl. “They can’t keep besties apart!”

“Hey!”

“Oh, hush.” Christina waves a hand at Jaden’s offended expression. “You’re my boy bestie. Lexi’s my girl bestie.”

For a moment, Jaden pouts and Jesse wonders if he just stumbled into some friendship drama, but then the Slifer shrugs and returns to studying something outside below the balcony. “Fair enough.”

Should Jesse really be here? He took up the offer - that wasn’t even from the person who’s room this is - on a whim. He’s barely known these people two weeks when they’ve all known each other at least two years.

“Jaden, get back in here.” Alexis twists to chide the Slifer still standing transfixed on her balcony.

Jaden doesn’t budge. “As soon as I figure out the best route!”

“Route?” Curiosity overriding the sense of displacement, Jesse joins Jaden on the balcony.

“Yeah, up and down.” Jaden leans over the balcony railing, face scrunched up in concentration. “Climbing’s easier than sneaking through the hallways every time.” He says that like he does this often. So this is definitely a thing. Jaden and Christina struck Jesse as the rebellious type; Alexis not so much. But hey. Jesse likes being wrong; means he gets to learn new things.

Poking his own head over the railing, Jesse looks down the side of the building, already spotting places to grab hold or balance a foot. “There’s a few…” he mumbles, sliding back into his mother tongue. Getting to them from the balcony is the tricky part. Glancing up at the treeline, he spots an overhanging branch just close enough to grab hold and reaches up to give it a tug. It holds firm so he shifts his weight, braces, and swings himself up with a practiced ease. Jaden gapes like a fish and Jesse smirks.

“Get down!” Alexis hisses, sharp tone chasing away most of his pride. “It’s still daylight!”

Right. And he and Jaden aren’t supposed to be here. Jesse doesn’t fancy getting himself kicked out this soon. He can understand the intention behind not allowing boys in the Girls’ Dorm but the fact there’s been no indication of a similar rule for girls at the Boys’ Dorm does imply a few things. Jaden still looks starstruck when Jesse lands next to him. “Dude, teach me?”

“Sure. Later?”

“Sweetness!” Jaden bounces back into the room with an enthusiasm that, for once, looks entirely genuine and Jesse finds himself smiling too. “So what are we doing first?” Jaden looks to the girls for input.

“Well, since you’re here-” Alexis turns a confident grin in Jesse’s direction, and Jesse has to stop himself from shying away from the sudden attention. Alexis’ eyes are as sharp as her smile “I wanted to get a better look at that deck.”

Oh, okay, this is familiar. Running thumb over his deck box, Jesse feels his Beasts vibrate with anticipation. He grins. “Sure. Duel?”

“Game on.”

*

They spread out the cards between them on the coffee table, sitting on those pillow things the Japanese substitute for chairs. Christina bounces between rooting for Alexis and rooting for Jesse play by play.

“Who’s side are you on?” Jaden asks, chin propped on Jesse’s shoulder where it’s been pretty much the entire match.

“Both!” Christina chirps from her seat next to Alexis.

“That’s not how it works!”

Sure it is; Jesse tries to hide his laugh behind his cards. Although he’s flattered that Jaden’s apparently willing to take his side, who really wants to pick sides between friends?

Christina hums, leaning back with a suspiciously smug expression. “Should I tell you that next time Sy and Hassleberry start fighting over your attention?”

Jesse feels Jaden cringe as he pulls away. “They don’t duel over me! That’s different.”

“They did once.”

“What?! When?!”

“You were in space chilling with a dolphin man.”

“What?” Jesse jerks, misplaying his next card as he gapes at the redhead.

Christina only breaks into giggles as Jaden angrily pouts. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope!”

“Space??” Jesse repeats in an effort to distract himself from the horrible position he just put himself in on the board as he passes the turn to Alexis. He had to have misunderstood that.

“Neo Space,” Jaden says in English which does absolutely nothing to curb Jesse’s confusion. “Not actual space. It was like…” He trails off with a frown.

“A separate plane of reality,” Hummingbird says from where he’s been perched over the game board with vested interest. “Another dimension.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Yeah what?” Alexis asks without even looking up from her cards, and Jesse automatically braces for the backlash.

“Uh, a separate plane of reality,” Jaden repeats. “Or dimension, I guess?”

“So like the Dominion,” Christina muses.

“Makes sense.” Taking out his defense, Alexis sets a card and passes the turn to Jesse.

Oh, right. Even Jaden’s friends who can’t see them too just kinda accept that he can see spirits. Feels weird to talk about it so casually, but Alexis doesn’t look bothered at all. “So what’s this Dominion place?” he asks as he draws his next card. Ah, sweet! He needed this!

“You don’t know?” The confusion in Christina’s voice pulls Jesse’s attention away from his cards again.

“No?” But now he feels like he should.

“It’s where they come from.” Christina gestures to the cards on the table. “The Dominion of the Beasts. Well, most of them.” She glances at the Neospacian perched on the arm of the couch.

Jesse should probably be less surprised that duel spirits are from an entirely different plane of existence. “And ya couldn’t have mentioned that?” he turns to grumble at the tortoise by his side.

Emerald blinks slowly and sounds far too honest as he answers, “It wasn’t relevant?”

And Jesse thought Athena had been cryptic. Actually, why hadn’t she or the other fairies ever told him about this Dominion place?

“To be fair, I don’t hear a lot of other duel spirits talk about the Dominion.” Jaden plops his chin back on Jesse’s shoulder and squints at the cards in his hand. “Oo, that one!” his hand snakes around the other side of Jesse’s head to tap a spell in his hand. “I only know about it cuz of you and Dark Magician Girl.”

“And we’ve been there,” Alexis says, and Jesse’s head snaps up again.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Jaden agrees far too casually.

This is probably the part where Jesse should just stop asking questions.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Christina groans flopping backwards onto the floor. “Or I’ll have to go track down Pharaoh to kick Banner’s ghost.”

“Banner’s what?” Alexis and Jaden ask at nearly the same time and Jesse is glad to finally not be the only one in the room with no idea what’s going on.

“I…” Christina hesitates, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t actually want to explain that one.”

“You can see ghosts?” Alexis stares at the other girl with no small amount of shock.

“Yup.”

“What does Pharaoh have to do with it??” Jaden almost looks afraid of the answer, and frankly, Jesse doesn’t blame him. Does this Banner guy possess the dorm cat? He’s seen that cat hang out in the rafters of Jaden’s room. And now there might be a dead guy watching them.

“You don’t want me to answer that.” Christina pulls herself back up to sit properly on her floor pillow with a sigh. Jaden squints her a while longer before turning his attention back to the nearly forgotten duel.

“Okay, but seriously, if you combo these cards-”

“No backseat duelin’!” Jesse tries to shake the other boy off as he taps the cards in Jesse’s hands again.

“I’m trying to help!” Jaden whines petulantly.

“Well yur not!” Jesse would rather fight his own battles, thank you very much, at least when it comes to a fair match like this between friends. Also Jesse can’t always follow Jaden’s scattered brained logic for card combos and still doesn’t understand how the guy won his last daily match.

"Ungrateful!" Jaden huffs, sitting back with his arms crossed and cheeks puffed out like a child. Jesse has to stop himself from reprimanding Jaden for it.

Alexis creams him. But Jesse spent half the duel distracted, so he’s not surprised. Just means they’ll have to have a rematch sometime to find out each other’s true strength. Jesse looks forward to it. By the look in Alexis’ eyes, she feels the same.

*

They end up smooshed together on Alexis’ bed watching movies on the obscenely large TV. Jesse stares at the screen like he’s never experienced an in-home theater and Christina has to admit the awestruck expression of complete immersion looks cute. Near the end of the movie he starts to fidget, pulling restlessly at his hoodie. Jaden didn’t even bring his jacket, so he’s just in his black t-shirt and the school issued track pants. Christina’s wearing her usual tank top and shorts, and Alexis changed into her pajamas before setting up the movie. Jesse’s the only one wearing long sleeves.

“Hey, å, do any of y’all care if I take this off?” Jesse asks as the credits roll, pulling at the white fabric.

“Was wondering why you were still wearing it,” Jaden mumbles.

“It’s...it’s my shirt,” Jesse says after a moment’s hesitation.

“Dude.” Jaden giggles against his shoulder.

He’s not wearing anything under it? Alexis sends Christina a glance and she shrugs. She sleeps at the Slifer Dorm most of the time anyway. Shirtless guys don’t bother her.

“No, that’s fine,” Alexis says.

“Cool.” Jaden sits up as Jesse pulls his hoodie up and Christina does a double take at those abs. What? She wouldn’t call it ‘chiseled’ by any means but, even in the dim light, distinctly defined muscles shift and ripple as the hoodie goes up over Jesse’s head. Hi there, pretty biceps.

“You work out?” she hears herself squeak and quickly clears her throat.

“Freerunning, mostly.”

Free what? Christina’s brain stumbles over the unfamiliar phrase. She recognizes both words but she’s never heard them mashed together like that, and just running does not give you biceps like that.

“That counts,” Alexis says. Glad one of them knows what he’s talking about. “Atticus tried it in middle school. He broke his arm and sprained his ankle.”

Jesse winces. “Yeah, it’s challenging. I’ve taken my share of tumbles.”

Okay they’re obviously not talking about just running. So what does the ‘free’ part mean? “Someone gonna explain?” Christina asks, glances between her friends. Jaden looks as confused as she does at least.

“Å…it’s like…” Jesse trails off as mumbling a few words in a language Christina doesn’t recognize. “Jumping off walls?” he tries.

The image that conjures is decidedly not the one Jesse is trying to convey. He makes a frustrated sound as Alexis reaches over Christina for her PDA. “I’ll look up a video. It’s hard to explain even without a language barrier.”

“Thanks,” Jesse mumbles, slumping into the pillows as Jaden leans on Alexis’ shoulder to peer at the screen. The video paints a much clearer picture of people running through back alleys and vaulting over walls and scaling buildings with their bare hands. It’s like the shit she and Jaden used to do in his backyard but cranked up to eleven.

“Teach me,” Jaden repeats, breathless with awe.

“Sure? It’s not something you learn overnight,” Jesse warns.

“Don’t care,” Jaden declares and flops back against the other boy’s shoulder. “You’re warm…” he sighs, immediately twisting to drape himself across Jesse.

“Å, yeah?”

Christina smirks. “Jay’s a heat leach.”

Jaden grumbles as Alexis reaches past him to place a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Okay, human heater goes in the middle.”

“Hva?” Jesse reacts with that word again that Christina can vaguely guess means something similar to ‘what’ in terms of expressing shock and confusion.

“Human heater goes in the middle,” she agrees and Jaden whines.

“But I wanna be middle!”

“Then you and Jesse can share the middle,” Alexis says, prompting Christina off the bed with her to make room for the shift. “Now come on, scoot.”

Whining the entire way, Jaden wiggles across the bed, dragging a still very much confused Jesse with him. A quick game of roshambo later, Alexis glares at her traitorous fist while Christina crawls in on Jesse’s other side. Ohhh, he is warm…

They debate over their next movie before finally throwing another one on. Christina doesn’t remember the end of it.

*

Jesse wakes with his face in a pillow, sandwiched between warm bodies and Jaden on top of his back.

He could get used to this.

[melodyalanaroster]

To answer some Fanfic Questions...

So, this is my response to @broxklynn‘s post... I decided to make this its own post... So that It can be properly answered.

1. How and why did you start to write? Is there some kind of story behind it?

I started writing in general when I was in elementary school... Back when I just had a Platform 9 3/4 journal, not many friends, recess, and a desire to immerse myself in the world of Harry Potter. I enjoyed writing, and even joined the Writer’s Club in High School (but I eventually left to join Anime Club and Divergent Thinking Society). As for writing MCL fanfiction, I began writing Sam’s and Alana’s stories as early as when I first got into the fandom, back in 2013. Alana’s story started out as “A Fresh Start”, had a one shot called “When I Wake”, then turned into “Let The Dawn Be Broken”, and is now “The Melancholy Of Melody Alana Roster”. The final product barely has any hints of the first 3... In fact, Sam’s story, “Fighting Darkness”, has been completely debunked due to what I’ve decided to canonize in “The Melancholy Of Melody Alana Roster”. Writing MCL fanfiction has been a major help in distracting me from the depression that was caused by family issues, severe abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, my mom’s disease and her death, as well as working at several shitty jobs. Writing has helped me escape reality and keep myself sane enough to not be a black hole of hate, anger, and sadness to my friends and boyfriend.

2. What do you struggle the most with your writing?

There are 2 major things I struggle with... 1 is Timing. I often set deadlines for myself that I never meet and it makes me so frustrated that I miss them... There are currently things in my drafts that were meant to be “Holiday Specials” for Valentine’s Day and Halloween 2020 that are still unfinished... It makes me feel like I’m letting my readers down, when its more of me letting myself down... The other thing is Inspiration. Because I hate my job, I often think about Alana’s story in an effort to not be completely consumed by the fact that I do hate my work... Due to that, I often come up with ideas for my story that I think are FANTASTIC for my story... But, by the time I get home, I’m either in too much pain or too tired to write, or I’ve forgotten the ideas...

3. What is your favorite genre to write?

I love writing Romance with a bit of Slice of Life and a hint of Action/Adventure... 

4. Slowburn or “Flame”/PWP?

Slow burn any day.

5. How do you overcome writer’s block?

If I absolutely can’t write... I work on other stuff I need to do... Typically, something around the house, or something online I need to do... I also look for cool stuff to add to wish lists... I’ll occasionally play videogames or read comic books... In an effort to subvert writer’s block, I like having multiple chapters in my drafts at once. If I’m not in the mood to work on one chapter, I can work on a different one.

6. What kind of thing you dislike the most, when reading a fanfiction? (for example: particular plot, grammar mistakes)

One thing that makes me upset (and it makes me madder when I do this) is misspelling... Especially when it looks like its almost blatant... You have autocorrect, USE IT! Or when a fanfic is so awful, yet the author acts like their work is a gift from god... I don’t mind a “bad” fanfiction... Hell, the concept of “My Immortal” is so bad that its hilarious... But Fifty Shades did a lot of damage and E.L. James acts like she’s bigger than Jesus... Seriously, she wrote Twilight fanfiction, changed some minor details and names, people who have no knowledge of BDSM ate it up, and she acts like she’s a “Sex and Relationship Guru”...

7. What’s the biggest issue for you, when writing a Beemoov fanfiction?

The biggest issue for me is finding out when to allow for Beemoov’s writing and placement to take place in my story. I don’t like a lot of the events of UL and LL, so I’m often finding myself in a position where I have to watch video playthroughs and go “Okay, how can I omit this character, but keep this scene?”. I’ve had to do that A LOT with Alexy and Rosalaya.... Although, to a certain extent, I’ll often cut their scenes out altogether. I really hate what Beemoov did to them. They were great characters in HSL, but became utter shit in UL and stayed shit in LL. To make up for Beemoov’s writing style, I’ve created my own characters, added in old characters (like Kentin and Armin), added in bits from the manga (like Viktor, Severina and their fathers), and gone off on my own storyline. The Melancholy Of Melody Alana Roster is close to MCL at times, but often veers off onto its own road.

8. Have you ever created a character based on person in real life? (celebrity, someone that you know, etc)

YES!!! A LOT of characters in my story are based on real people! Alana’s step-father, Nate Films, is closely based on Nathan Fillion. A lot of her family members are based on members of my own family, just changed a bit to fit the story. Lynne Roster, Alana’s mom, is what I had always dreamed my own mom would be... Hell, Alana’s cat, Sylvester, is based on my own childhood cat, Luna.

9. How do you feel about your own characters? Do you think of them as your babies or have rather love-hate relationship with them? (And, do you have favorite one?)

I love most of my characters. I do hate 3 in particular... But, you’re supposed to hate, or at least not respect, them... That’s why I poured my hatred into them... Those 3 are Carol, Kai and Azrael. Carol has aspects of my abuser in her. You’ll see more of her when I finally post the HSL related chapters... And understand what I mean... Kai is based on one of my real life cousins that I’ve not been happy with for years (the one who my bf has deemed “the family failure”). You mainly see him in the Cousin Mels chapters, and in the Christmas Special... Azrael is the one who is seen the most in the UL chapters, and she is a main adversary for Alana. She is the one who broke her the most, the one who ended Alana’s relationship with Nathaniel, the one who truly traumatized her. As for ones I love... The one I love the most is Alana... I know, she’s a reflection of me, so that’s kind of vain... But, she’s a part of me. When I do finish her story and am at the point where I need to say “Goodbye”, it will hurt....

10. Enemies-to-lovers or friends/bestfriends-to lovers?

Definitely friends/best friends to lovers. I also like toying with what happens when best friends turn to lovers, but circumstance parts them and one moves on...

11. Is it easy for you to get inside your character’s head? Can you empathize with them? Is there’s some similarities between you and your main character?

It is VERY easy for me to get into Alana’s head... Like I said in #9, she is a reflection of me. She looks and acts like how I’d like to in a lot of situations... Her life is more interesting, traumatized, and more well off than mine... But, she is still me in major ways...

12. Who has been the biggest supporter of your writing?

Definitely my boyfriend. He doesn’t really understand the game itself... But, he likes how happy it makes me and he respects how much of my heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears that I’ve poured into writing my story. He loves listening to me read passages from it to him while I’m working. He gives me advice and his opinion is highly valued... My family knows I’m writing a large story, and have seen some of the images that I’ve gotten commissioned, but they don’t really know or care about the game. They do respect the fact that I am writing. They love the fact that I’m slightly following in my mom’s footsteps in that regard (she wrote 3 books and several poems). My online friends have been very supportive as well! I’m constantly updating them on what I’ve worked on each day in my Discord Server and the words of encouragement always help.

13. How do you handle criticism?

Not well. Due to the abuse and family issues mentioned in #1, for a good amount of my life, I’ve gotten nothing but harsh criticism... So, now that I’m away from all that, at 26 years old, I’m just now getting to a point where I’m starting to take it better... But, I’ve got a long way to go.

14. Do you like giving your characters trauma? Why/why not?

I hate sounding like a sadist... But, I’m going to anyway, so fuck it... Yes. I have done awful things to Alana over the years. In A Fresh Start, she got sexually assaulted and ostracized. In When I Wake, she gets into a car crash, put into a coma, and in her dream state murdered by Francis in front of Nathaniel. In Let The Dawn Be Broken, the plan was for her to end a war. In “The Melancholy of Melody Alana Roster”, her childhood cat dies, her mom gets sick, she gets abused by Carol, her best friends get ripped away from her for a bit, she gets sent to a country halfway around the world alone, she gets assaulted and ultimately turned into a weapon of mass destruction.... I’ve even thought of killing her mom off at one point... But decided against it...

Now, granted, A Fresh Start and Let The Dawn Be Broken never saw completion, but happy endings were planned for them...

I do this, all while giving Alana happy endings in each story because “If Alana can go through utter hell and make it through, then so can I.”... I know, I’m “god” in that regard and I can control how Alana’s life is.... But, the fact that in my writing, she ends up standing tall, happy, with everything she wants, after everything she goes through does make me feel better.... 

15. Are you proud of yourself? When you look at first piece you wrote and compare it to the latest one?

Yes. If you look at A Fresh Start, you can tell it was written by someone fresh out of High School. There’s no real depth to it. Let The Dawn Be Broken isn’t much better... But, The Melancholy of Melody Alana Roster has become my magnum opus. It is the largest piece I have EVER written, and will probably remain the largest piece I write. I am very proud of what I have created... And when its last word is written, and I am ready to get it made for it’s place on my shelf, I will feel very bittersweet about it... That being said, my original plan for a sequel involving Nathaniel’s and Alana’s daughter, Aurora, has been discarded. I don’t believe Aurora could ever have as much of my heart that her parents do...

And there you have it! Some insight into my world, writing, and history!

[worldwidebt7]

I... have no idea why I decided to write this— especially on this blog because... I don’t really consider this a personal blog...

I suppose I just needed to vent? Get my thoughts out and hope that someone listens? I love my husband but... it’s like talking to a wall when it comes to this topic 😅

So... what I’m talking about is poor body image and everything that comes with it.

And I guess this is the part where I place a trigger warning for— jeez— just, everything? Talking about eating disorders, self-deprivation, low self worth, self body shaming, negative thoughts... so, if you’re triggered by these topics or anything similar, please read no further.

So, I guess I should preface this with a disclaimer: I love who I am. I love my mind, and the way I think and analyze. I love the way I love the things I’m passionate about.

But I hate that I can’t love the way I look.

I want to. I want to be happy and confident in how I look, but every time I see myself in a reflection I veer away as fast as possible. I can give you every reason in the book, but I couldn’t tell you where my poor body image comes from.

As far back as I can remember I have been hiding in clothes two sizes too big for me. Anything that will shield my imperfections from the world. Hell, I’ve even been living for these mandatory masks because that gives me the ability to hide my face. The less that can been seen of me, the better. I suppose that’s because I assume the rest of the world will judge me as harshly as I judge myself.

I have this saying: “Go ahead and say what you want because it can’t be worse than what I already tell myself.”

Which is true. In fact, I actively avoid mirrors when I can. I don’t even own a full body mirror. I have two vanity mirrors that show my face from the neck up and there are more than enough issues just there to keep me occupied for an hour.

Owning a full length mirror would be... well, let’s just say the last time I looked at myself at length in one I cried and nearly broke my hand.

I am... overweight for my height and body type. And for myself. About 35lbs (15.88kg) to be precise. I’m 5’1” (155cm) and of a petite build. I should weigh in the 112lb (50.80)-121lb (54.88kg). I understand that each body has its own version of healthy, but I can physically feel the effects that the extra weight is having on my body.

I should add that I wasn’t always this heavy. In middle school and high school I was about average weight even if it was a little over the “ideal” and later I was in the spectrum of healthy weight for my size twice.

And neither time did I get there healthily.

The first time was out of my hands— I had been quite ill with Lyme disease for the first two years of my college life and I was spending 75% of my time asleep or too weak to move. Surprisingly, I actually GAINED weight at this time and was at the unruly weight I’m currently at today.

However, that changed drastically when doctors finally discovered the cause of my ailments and put me on aggressive medication for it. I had Lyme for two years— there was already irreparable damage to by body from it. I though the treatment would be the end.

Wrong.

The pills prescribed to me were meant to eliminate the disease as swiftly as possible and consequently made me more ill. I was throwing up two to three times a day and with that came a sensitive stomach and a nonexistent appetite. I loved off of bread and chocolate milk for a month because that’s all my stomach could keep down.

I lost 35lbs (15.88kg) in four weeks. My body was eating itself. I was weak. Every bone in my body hurt. My eyes were sunken in. I couldn’t eat because the bacteria in my stomach were so damaged.

But I was finally— FINALLY— skinny. My body had essentially transformed over night in my suffering and I felt like at least one good thing had come out of me being sick.

I began working out regularly trying to gain some of my muscle back and I toned up, I had definition and some of my energy back. And I continued to try and nurse myself back to health for the next year by slowly introducing more food into my meals. I was trying to do the right thing for my body, but I also wanted to keep the weight off.

This was the first... and the last time I was ever happy with my body.

It lasted little more than a year.

Once I was able to eat full meals again after quite some time, I gained all the weight back— and then some. I was the heaviest I had ever been and I was MISERABLE. I had gotten a taste of my version of “the perfect body” and I ate it away.

This is where the self-hatred really set in.

After I graduated college and broke up with my boyfriend, I decided to lose the weight again. The beginning was hard— not due to lack of motivation or knowledge (my mother had been a personal trainer) but because my metabolism had be irreparably damaged from the earlier events. And when I stopped seeing results, I cut back on calories.

And cut back again.

And again.

And again.

Until— finally— I had lost most of the weight again. And I was eating 300 calories or less a day. Preferably less. The less I ate, the more I complimented myself for restricting and having restraint.

“You did good today!”

“With this, you’ll definitely lose weight!”

“Look at how flat your stomach is!”

Of course my stomach was flat. I hadn’t eaten anything!

And all the kind, sweet words to myself were doing was reinforcing horrible, life-threatening habits that I still struggle with today.

This also went on for a year, and, while I wasn’t completely satisfied with how my body looked, it was the last time I can pinpoint where I was happy. And because I link that period of time to happiness, I now connect the eating disorder I had to contributing to it.

Flash forward to now— four and a half years later. I am back to my miserable weight. I feel like my body isn’t mine, and that it’s betrayed me. And I hate it.

I am still in constant pain from the joint damage caused my the Lyme disease. My stomach is still sensitive and I often feel ill after eating (whether this is a physical response or a psychological one at this point I cannot tell). And my metabolism has never recovered from what was now 9 years ago.

And I have tried to lose the weight again. I went to a personal trainer and that worked for a bit— I dropped 11lbs (4.99kg) in about four months and I was eating healthy. But then I plateaued. I was told I needed to eat more since I was doing weight lifting. So I ate more and the weight started coming back.

I tried intermittent fasting, and that worked for a time. But then I did a body scan that measures fat vs muscle vs skeletal mass and it showed that the weight I was losing was actually muscle. I was told again to eat more, so I did.

I gained all 11lbs back.

Then I fell back on what I knew worked for me. Calorie deficit.

I started cutting back until I began to see weight drop, but immediately stopped when I realized that I would have to eat less than 700 calories a day for any sort of result.

So here I am, in my traitorous body with no light at the end of the tunnel. I have more issues than losing weight can resolve at this point. I should see a therapist, but I can’t afford one. I should consult a nutritionist, but, again, can’t afford that. The only reason I could afford a trainer because she was a friend of mine and gave me an amazing deal. However, after I had to drop $2k to fix the watermain to my house I was unable to afford that even.

I’m not the confident woman my husband married three years ago, and because of my insecurities and poor body image marital problems run rampant in our relationship.

I know there are many factors to how I view myself— I have unrealistic standards that I feel I must live up to. I have a deep-seeded fear of being ugly because at some point in my life I decided that only good things happen for beautiful people.

I was listening to a podcast today and they were discussing how hot people don’t need to develop certain personality traits or social skills because they’re beautiful and everyone loves beautiful people.

I guess I’ve always wanted to be one of these beautiful people.

It’s vain, and plastic, and superficial, and my common sense finds it absolutely ridiculous. But when I look in a mirror I can’t find anything that I actually like. It’s like I’m screaming from inside a body that I don’t belong in, because the way I feel about myself isn’t reflected in how I outwardly look.

Again, I love my mind. I love my art and the stories I want to tell with it. I love my soul. I just hate the cage it’s trapped in.

I don’t know why I decided to write this... I guess... I really just wanted someone to listen... and I wanted others who feel the same or have been through similar circumstances, that they’re not alone.

And I suppose not being alone and being heard can be exactly what’s needed sometimes.

I’ll delete this later.

[invisibleicewands]

Staged's Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant: 'Scenes with all four of us usually involved alcohol'

Not many primetime TV hits are filmed by the show’s stars inside their own homes. However, 2020 wasn’t your average year. During the pandemic, productions were shut down and workarounds had to be found – otherwise the terrestrial schedules would have begun to look worryingly empty. Staged was the surprise comedy hit of the summer.

This playfully meta short-form sitcom, airing in snack-sized 15-minute episodes, found A-list actors Michael Sheen and David Tennant playing an exaggerated version of themselves, bickering and bantering as they tried to perfect a performance of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author over Zoom.

Having bonded while co-starring in Good Omens, Amazon’s TV adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel, Sheen, 51, and Tennant, 49, became best buddies in real life. In Staged, though, they’re comedically reframed as frenemies – warm, matey and collaborative, but with a cut-throat competitiveness lurking just below the surface. As they grew ever more hirsute and slobbish in lockdown, their virtual relationship became increasingly fraught.

It was soapily addictive and hilariously thespy, while giving a voyeuristic glimpse of their interior decor and domestic lives – with all the action viewed through their webcams.

Yet it was the supporting cast who lifted Staged to greatness,Their director Simon Evans, forced to dance around the pair’s fragile egos and piggy-in-the-middle of their feuds. Steely producer Jo, played by Nina Sosanya, forever breaking off from calls to bellow at her poor, put-upon PA. And especially the leading men’s long-suffering partners, both actors in real life, Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

Georgia Tennant comes from showbiz stock, as the child of Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson. At 36 she is an experienced actor and producer, who made her TV debut in Peak Practice aged 15. She met David on Doctor Who 2008, when she played the Timelord’s cloned daughter Jenny. Meanwhile, the Swedish Lundberg, 26, is at the start of her career. She left drama school in New York two years ago and Staged is her first big on-screen role.

Married for nine years, the Tennants have five children and live in west London. The Lundberg-Sheens have been together two years, have a baby daughter, Lyra, and live outside Port Talbot in south Wales. On screen and in real life, the women have become firm friends and frequent scene-stealers.

Staged proved so successful that it’s now back for a second series. We set up a video call with Tennant and Lundberg to discuss lockdown life, wine consumption, home schooling (those two may be related) and the blurry line between fact and fiction…

Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.

Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.

GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.

AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.

GT: Although some people think it is.

Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.

AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.

Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.

Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.

AL: Unlike certain people.

How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.

AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time – we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.

Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.

GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.

Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.

GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.

How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.

GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”

And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.

You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.

AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.

GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.

There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.

GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.

How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.

GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.

Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.

GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.

AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.

GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.

What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.

AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.

GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.

There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.

GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”

AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.

GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”

How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.

GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.

Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.

[nileqt87]

More thoughts on how to resurrect the Indiana Jones franchise post-Harrison Ford

Perhaps a proper, modern television show would be a good way to bring back a younger, but adult Indy (with perhaps flashbacks littered throughout). You can also get away with a lot more content (definitely aim for TV-14) and characters who are allowed to be flawed. Relationship dramas are serialized storytelling's forte in a way that is disappearing more and more from blockbuster films. Complicated characters are better left to television, as the audience expects and allows for it because of the nuance and depth the serialization affords. The complicated, messy story of Abner and Marion is a story best left to being explored only after the characters have some real complexity and development. It also wouldn't be forced to play to the mass audience of under-13s that makes modern PG-13 often meaningless. In comparison, TV-14 actually pushes up harder against its limits regularly--not just violence, but also with innuendo and sexuality minus nudity. The amount of historical-style, pulpy violence, not to mention potentially comically gruesome deaths, in Indy would also necessitate the rating. Indiana Jones might be niche enough at this point with an audience veering towards adults who grew up with it (Gen-X and the older end of Gen-Y), while Gen-Z has little awareness of it, that Disney wouldn't be forced to make it a total kiddie property. It's not the same situation as back in the early '90s with Young Indy being aimed at older kids who had recently seen Last Crusade in the theater. They could reboot it for television with a young adult Indy who potentially could grow into a fully adult version. And I wouldn't try too hard to not step on the trilogy's toes with the timeline. Just let it live in its own developing continuity.

Use of long-running supporting cast (parents, Remy and returning guest stars aside) would also be a big difference from Young Indy. Characters like Belloq (could potentially go from friend to antagonist, akin to how Smallville handled Lex), Sallah, Henry, Brody, Abner, Marion, etc... could actually be around a lot more than just for an adventure here or there. These are all characters Indy had clearly known for years. Actually put the show into a seasonal, serialized format that isn't a new cast every episode. You could also stick around in locations a lot longer this way, which would help with budget.

Another thought I've had since watching an absolute ton of fantasy/sci-fi dramas in the last few years is that the influence of Indiana Jones is actually pretty apparent in a number of pretty famous characters, sometimes overtly and sometimes a bit more subtly. Harrison, Indy or Raiders in general are outright name-checked in quite a few places, often by scrappy action hero types who tend to take hard beatings (the kinds of characters who should've died a hundred times over) while in situations they're way over their heads in or literally impossible odds they can't win. Like Indy, the intended prize isn't won at the end and, outside of a few gruesome baddie deaths, the shady, corrupt or evil barely get a dent. Fox Mulder and Dean Winchester are two characters who name-check the comparison overtly and you can see the writers and actors both having the influence in mind. It's obviously a male fantasy, too. The influence on The X-Files and Supernatural is definitely there. Supernatural is chock full of biblical MacGuffins (not to mention having angels and demons as most of its recurring supporting cast), so it would be a hard comparison to avoid. Raiders came up in the WWII Nazi submarine episode with a piece of the Ark onboard (it's subsequently a show to raid for Indy ideas, because they pretty much mined everything biblical), for example. The X-Files likewise was dealing with shady government officials and pretty blatantly copied the huge warehouse of government secrets loaded with alien relics (and then repeated the Cigarette Smoking Man's warehouse reveal with the tunnel of filing cabinets stretching on forever). Mulder was also very much a one-man army a lot of the time when it came to the alien conspiracy (no offense to Scully). Moments like him climbing/riding the tops of sky rides, trains and escaping the spaceship were total Indy-esque moments. Sam and Dean had literal God-tier levels of plot armor keeping them alive (repeated resurrections included). Angel is another one that, unlike Mulder and the Winchesters being very human, is a supernatural character (subsequently his level of pain tolerance and durability is at the level of regular impalement, defenestration out of skyscrapers and being set on fire), but the comparison still holds because of how often he's getting decimated and fighting forces way beyond his pay grade. Wolfram & Hart, the Shanshu and seeking redemption with the Powers that Be, like the mytharc conspiracy/alien takeover and literal God a.k.a. Chuck, is another endless, unwinnable fight that is so far beyond all the protagonists that there's no win/happily ever after and they'd be lucky just walking away from it with nothing. Angel also name-checks Indy with a blatantly Indy-inspired fantasy dream episode (Awakening in season 4) with Angelus making a crack about the Raiders fantasy. George Lucas actually visited the Angel set back in 2000 and was interested in how they were making mini movies every week and doing some pretty huge stunts on television. David Boreanaz had lunch with Lucas and has talked about it a few times over the many years. I mean, these are all shows starring action-oriented leading men and writing staffs of relatively similar age. Mostly Gen-X males with a few Baby Boomers (more so on the writing staff) with an audience that's primarily Gen-Y but appealing to a pretty broad age range (and probably a lot more female than originally intended!). Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Harrison Ford films in general were very formative to that generation. Harrison Ford is the ultimate leading man action star to a certain generation. Gen-Y got their familiarity with all of that by being the original home video/VHS generation and subsequently a lot more familiar with retro media (including things that were made before they were born or around that time) than Gen-Z. '80s movies have a lot of currency and familiarity still with Gen-Y, even if Baby Boomers were the stars of them and Gen-X were the ones who saw them in theaters. Gen-Y fangirls absolutely dominate the fandoms of many iconic television supernatural/sci-fi franchises (many are admittedly aging franchises). The WB/CW have catered to this group of fans for the last two and a half decades. If you're going to be reviving the character as a mid-20s-to-30s version (if the show lasts long enough, it probably will be stepping on the trilogy's toes timeline-wise by the end), I'd absolutely be aiming for this same audience and their tastes. They're also the audience who would be most receptive to and familiar with the character, IMO. If I were going to reinvent Indiana Jones for the television landscape, I would definitely be looking at those sorts of shows that have influence from the character already in their DNA. I think for the target audience, they'd definitely need to be aiming it at the same fanbases. Young Indy mostly tried to avoid stepping on Raiders' toes (despite Temple of Doom and Mask of Evil already making it ludicrous) by limiting the amount of supernatural elements, but I think a show would have to go all in on it. Indy would have to be transformed a bit in regards to trying to line him up with a character who would still be skeptical after all he's seen. Young Indy ended up forced into being a straight period drama with educational elements, which is very counter to what the audience wanted. There are things to keep from that approach (meeting historical persons, being a WWI veteran and witnessing history could absolutely be mined as backdrops to the stories), but the supernatural elements would have to exist in a revival now to get the audience who I think would be most receptive to it. While I would aim for a serialized drama format that would mean the globetrotting wouldn't have to completely change locations every episode (have it instead in arcs with some bigger MacGuffins and baddies perhaps crossing entire seasons), it's true that there would probably have to be more location filming than good, ol' Vancouver, but Disney is one of the few who could afford it (though Covid certainly would throw a wrench in it and political situations could potentially kill off certain locations). There's only so much green screen that Indy could get away with, though I imagine that a fair amount of it would have to be used for period piece reasons alone. There are a lot of modern intrusions even in historically-intact cities (Eastern Europe comes to mind as having a lot of its architecture intact and is affordable to film in) and around iconic landscapes to paint out. But at its core, it probably would need to bulk up its focus on the relationship dramas. Indy tends to have a girl at every port and to a degree you would introduce some of these love interests, but there's still a lot of relationships of every kind that could be developed and serialized. Certainly throw in a few femme fatales and tragic losses, given the Smallville-esque situation of there being an inevitable Indy/Marion endgame that should be kept--it thus becomes about the journey when it's a set conclusion. Absolutely have a strong recurring cast of Henry and friends new and old. The films actually have a lot of characters that Indy didn't just meet yesterday and could be developed to a huge extent. For a show to work now, there'd have to be a lot more connectivity to how often the recurring cast appear. Young Indy had a lot more of an anthology format with little chance of us getting attached to most of the revolving cast outside of a very tiny few. That's the biggest thing I'd change. You need characters to become regulars beyond just Indy if it were revived for modern cinematic television (the true successor to the film serials of the '30s!) in a way that isn't necessary for film installments.

[goodbysunball]

Bring it on home

Comparatively easy listening from the set of records showcased this time around, but there's a world of grief settin' your jaw to grind. You deserve a neck massage and a cocktail; lean into these after you put your misery rectangle aside for a spell.

Astute Palate, s/t (Petty Bunco)

Emily Robb, David Nance, Daniel Provenzano, and Richie Charles got together and hammered out this LP during "48 sleepless hours" in Philadelphia. It's definitely a fairly rough documentation, but if you know the players, that's generally what you'd be gettin' into with 'em anyway. Gotta admit that I'm not a huge fan of what I've heard by David Nance - respect his hustle, though - and the same goes for the tracks he leads here; in particular, the studied classic rock caterwaul employed on "Stall Out" basically rolls my eyes for me. I am, however, fond of David Nance the Guitarist and his heroics on "Stall Out," and "A Little Proof" definitely has me more curious about his recent solo work I've skipped. These are pithy grievances, though: the album rules, as a whole, but it's just hard to stomach some of Nance's lyrics when they're side-by-side with bonafide jammers like "Bring It On Home" and "Treadin' Schuylkill." "Bring It On Home," in particular, with its Velvets-inspired chug and Robb's bleary vocals coolly beckoning you to do as the title says, heats to a boil with the blustery, fried guitar interplay. For me it wipes the floor with anything else on the album, and pretty much anything else I'll hear this year, so let's put all my petty complaints aside and declare this the Summer of Astute Palate, OK? Looks like the secret's out - the LP's sold out from the source, but can be found hiding in various distros and shops. Hunt it down, crack a tallboy, and embrace the sweltering heat of our melting planet with Astute Palate.

Maraudeur, Puissance 4 (self-released)

New and best LP yet from Leipzig's Maraudeur, self-released with some of the best packaging/artwork I've seen in a minute. My memory's usually a bit faulty, but I recall the band being a three-piece on their last, still very good LP from Bruit Direct Disques. I'm inclined to think that the group's ranks have swelled to five anyway, since the sound here is a bit more bright and full, lots of different moving parts zipping and moving around, giving the crisp recording some effervescence. Compared to older songs like "Computer Dreams," Maraudeur sounds sharper, capable of backing up any threats rather than coming across as deflated and listless. Even the slower songs on Puissance 4, such as "Slow Dress," thrive on tension, guitar strings set to snap amidst the robotic/hypnotic vocals. The band seems to have located a sweet spot between the simmering minimalism of Household and the technologically damaged vision of Chrome, and "TWYWYS" basically sounds like a collaboration between the two groups. Guitars are used as window dressing, favoring instead synths and showcasing the chops of the rhythm section. "Face/Figure" and my favorite track "C'est Caché" are the best examples of Maraudeur's rhythmic foundation, but nearly every track causes inadvertent head bobbing. While accessible and familiar on the surface, Maraudeur's dry humor, the carefully camouflaged layers of sound, and whatever is going on in "I Am Here" keep boilerplate post-punk comparisons at bay. Puissance 4 is a refreshing, addictive brew from the not-too distant future, and probably a blast to experience live.

Astrid Øster Mortensen, Gro Mig En Blomst (Förlag För Fri Musik)

New Gothenburg talent alert! Mortensen is apparently a newcomer to the scene, and her debut LP fits in nicely amongst the Förlag För Fri Musik discography. Gro Mig En Blomst features lonely and debased late-night solo explorations with guitar, piano and what sounds like an accordion, accented by electronic manipulations and the found sound that accompanies most FFFM records. It's dreary and stark, and can quickly bring the mood down when it's on. For me the most obvious reference point is Grouper's Ruins, in that both are recordings so intimate that it feels like an interruption to move while it's on. But I also get bits of Picastro's Whore Luck ("Hvor Kommer Mørket Fra?" sounds like it was plucked directly from that album), and there are similarities to Chloe Alison Escott's solo work, on the title track and "Piano i" and "Piano ii." Gro Mig En Blomst is a far cry from more traditional singer-songwriter music, dabbling in Stars of the Lid-like drone on "Brud ii" and jumping into the "Is there a record on or...?" genre on "Solen Er Et Lille Hus" and "Brud i." I can't say I go out looking for records this fragile and surface-level bleak anymore, but Mortensen's work is more often beautiful and calming than hopelessly gray. Another keeper from FFFM, sure to be one of the most sought-after records from the label, and for good reason.

Nightshift, Zöe (Trouble In Mind)

Travel back in time with me, if you will, to a time when "indie rock" was a genre label that had some meaning. After getting rid of the bad taste in my mouth and shaking off the embarrassment at who I was when I largely listened to stuff that'd broadly fall under that label, I'll allow that Nightshift is making a strong argument for some of the music released during the comparative naiveté of the late '00s/early '10s. Across Zöe, you get shades of Broadcast, Lower Dens' Twin-Hand Movement, the UV Race ("Spray Paint the Bridge"), Belle & Sebastian and A Sunny Day In Glasgow ("Power Cut" and "Romantic Mud"). The trick to Zöe is that it folds all these reference points in neatly and places it on a sturdy percussive base. I won't argue that every song here is memorable, but they're all enjoyable, and the songs that hit - "Outta Space," the title track, "Infinity Winner" - send chills down my spine every time. Guitars are plucked and scraped for leading beats, accentuating shuffling drums and giving the bass the spotlight. The vocals are dreamy and lyrics direct, and for the duration of Zöe you're relieved of the pessimistic present and allowed to rigidly dance to Nightshift's hesitant groove. They've charmed their way through my cynicism, and Zöe's been on heavy rotation despite my reluctance. Take it for a spin, and fall under Nightshift's spell.

Hugo Randulv, Radio Arktis: Samlade Ljud Från Den Norra Polcirkeln (Förlag För Fri Musik)

First solo LP from Hugo Randulv, an active presence in the Gothenburg scene with his involvement in Enhet För Fri Musik, Skiftande Enheter and Amateur Hour, among others. Though typically a guitarist, on Radio Arktis, he drops the guitar and instead fills both sides with glacial synths and dusty samples. The label's original write-up for this record called it "grand ambient," though to me it sounds and feels much more personal than something that would soundtrack the Olympics. His use of samples, most notably on "Radio Reykjavik," sounds intimately tied with some fleeting memory, the music serving to enhance or exorcise the feeling tied to it all. It reminds me most of the Fun Years' "God Was Like, No" in that both records used the tools common to ambient/drone music but applied a much more personal touch, that certain nameless attribute that keeps drawing a listener back in. Can't put my finger on it, but both records just sound like they had to be made, rather than serving as a genre exercise or one-off exploration. I don't know that Radio Arktis is going to change anyone's life, but it could, and I've been hypnotized by its wordless, sparkling gray tones for weeks. Even though the "solo musician embraces synths" thing is usually pretty tired and pointless, Hugo Randulv's contribution shows why it's an alluring proposition at all.

Sunhiilow, Beyond the Cycle (Ikuisuus)

More solo synth, this time coming from Valerie Magisson and her Moog Mother-32. Magisson's Sunhiilow project veers into new age/ambient with its bite-sized kosmische explorations. There's something about the combination of the short length of these tracks and the sense of movement present within each that allows Beyond the Cycle to transcend the lifeless drivel that's usually tagged "new age" and "synth." It seems intentional that Magisson was trying to capture the mood of each track title in its corresponding music, and she is largely successful, though its unclear if the title provided direction or was applied afterward. The somewhat jarring introduction of "Wilderness Bloom" and the stoned growth of "Circle Motion" are my top picks, but the album works best as a whole and played very loudly, the overall effect immersing the listener into heady zones traversed by the Nightcrawlers. Leave it to Ikuisuus to release an "ethereal ambient music" record that satisfies, and sounds and looks great to boot. Sunhiilow's a lot more tame than most of what Ikuisuus releases, but it's an accessible, recommended starting point to one of the best active labels. HOWDY.

[sharada-n]

Could you elabirate about why Papyrus reminds Flowey of Chara? I'm really curious.

Sure, but I want to preface this by saying its been ages since I’ve written Undertale Meta so excuse me for being a bit rusty. Also, there’s a lot of personal conjecture and interpretation here so feel free to take what I say with a grain of salt…

This is pretty much a counter argument to people claiming that Papyrus resembling Asriel is the reason why he’s Floweys favorite. I’ll get into why I think that isn’t true in a second (and why I think he actually is more like Chara) but first I’d like to point out that this theory doesn’t even make sense.

Flowey’s relationship with Asriel is complicated. On a technical level they’re the same person, yes, but in reality, they’re more like separate entities. While I do believe there is some Asriel left in Flowey, Asriel himself states at the end of the pacifist route that Flowey and he are not the same. More importantly though, Flowey talks about Asriel with clear resentment. He says Asriel was weak and blames the failure of the plan to free monsterkind on himself.

Keeping this in mind, it doesn’t make sense that Papyrus reminding Flowey of Asriel would be a positive thing to him. Especially considering the way Flowey speaks about his first encounters with Asgore and Toriel. Flowey doesn’t seem to want a constant reminder of his old life around, let alone a constant reminder of his old self. If Papyrus was like Asriel, I can only imagine Flowey would resent him too and not have him as a best friend.

“But Shara,” I hear you cry “Flowey is hardly a good friend. In fact, he's kind of a jerk and he manipulated Papyrus in the pacifist ending!”. Which, yes, that’s a fair point. I’m not saying he deserves a “friend of the year” award, but I’ve definitely been over why I feel their friendship is not just a charade on Flowey’s part. It might have started as such, but it's not anymore I think.

For example, the plan to use Papyrus to lure everybody into his trap at the end of the pacifist route wasn’t concocted until after Frisk fell, and they were friends long before that, so it can’t be the reason why Flowey befriended him in the first place.

Granted this is veering a little into headcanon territory, but there also is canon evidence to support this, such as the anniversary event where Flowey was the only one who knew what Papyrus’ favorite food was, and was seemingly annoyed at the fact that nobody else knew.

And also the dialogue you get if you keep doing neutral runs without ever attempting a genocide or pacifist run.

Here Flowey accuses the player of continually resetting and visiting him out of curiosity and boredom rather than a genuine desire to befriend him. This mirrors the part where he talks about his friendship with Papyrus being a result of his own curiosity and Papyrus (for some reason not actually properly explained in canon) being “fun to mess with” and a character that took a long time for Flowey to get bored off. Then we get this tidbit:

Not only is this line very interesting but the facial expression is important too. You can read it as discomfort, clearly, but it is also very much a guilty expression. This is the same expression Flowey has at the end of the pacifist route when addressing the player and compelling them not to reset anymore because it would take away everybody’s happy ending. It also happens to be the same expression he has when talking about the Flowey Fan Club as well as at the exact line I mentioned above, where he admits Papyrus was his “favorite”. 

Seems to me like Flowey is expressing guilt or embarrassment about his original intentions behind befriending Papyrus…

Now to get into the main thing: Why do people think Papyrus and Asriel are similar? The hard part is that we don’t know that much about Asriel when you think about it. He’s been long dead before the events of the game. We get some bits and pieces here and there but most info comes from Flowey himself, who is hardly an unbiased source. However, it's fair to say Asriel was very kind, innocent even, and pretty naive. A crybaby, in his own words. And if you take the most shallow, basic interpretation of Papyrus (the kind of fanon that makes me want to pull my hair out) what do you get? That Papyrus is kind, innocent and naive.

The only word in that list I do not take offense to is kind. Papyrus is undeniably a very kind person. But he is not innocent or naive. I could go into why I say this but honestly, it has been argued to death not just by me but by the entire fandom at this point, you’ve all heard it before. Papyrus is an actor. He’s good at showing people the parts of himself he wants them to see. It's unlikely that he’s completely faking it, I do believe Papyrus is genuinely a positive and quirky person. But he’s also playing up those parts to the extreme. Which leaves us with a lot of subtle clues as to his real feelings. Meanwhile, Asriel wears his heart on his sleeve. Crybaby, remember? And what about Asriel being a coward? Papyrus is anything but a coward.

So let's talk about Chara then. Once again we face the same problem we did earlier. Chara is long gone and we don’t know a lot about them besides what Flowey tells us, unless you subscribe to the “Chara is the narrator” theory, which I personally do, but since I know some people are still on the fence regarding this I’ll keep to strictly canon dialogue first. 

Asriel says Chara wasn’t the nicest person. True enough, their plan to destroy the barrier by means of killing themselves and then a bunch of humans wasn’t exactly a solid idea. However, it was made with good intentions. Chara was willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of freeing their newfound family. Chara wanted to help fix something they saw as undeniably wrong: the way humans treat others.

But this was also about revenge. Chara was bitter. They didn’t climb the mountain for a happy reason, according to Asriel. Asgore tells us something different too. He says he can see “the same hope in Frisk’s eyes that he saw in [Chara]”. So here we find what is both the big similarity and the big difference between Chara and Papyrus. Both of them are genuinely filled with hope, with belief, and with the motivation to make things better. They just manifested it differently.

Where Papyrus seems to maintain this disposition even in the face of adversary and unkindness, believing in you all the way until his death in the genocide route, Chara has already faced the kind of behavior that has made them resentful of things they consider unfair or unjust.

Both of them are willing to act upon these feelings of righteousness at least, however ill-advised, in contrast with Asriel (or ironically: Sans), who seems to be a more static, laid back person that didn’t like shaking up the status quo and just went along with what others did. Even Flowey himself only engages when he’s sure he has an ace up his sleeve and is unwilling to act thoughtlessly or impulsively. 

As the tape in the True Lab betrays, Chara was also a hard person to read, and both an excellent liar as well as an actor. They were hard to figure out, at the very least, and Asriel expressed joy at seeing a glimpse of their unguarded emotions when they smiled genuinely. Once again though, Chara seems to do this because they want to come across as colder and more emotionless than they really are, giving the impression that they don’t care about anyone or anything. While Papyrus is always trying to come across more happy and untroubled than he really is, and rather keeps his more negative feelings to himself.

The result for both of them is the same though: they are distanced from their friends and family, I’d almost go as far as to say that even those closest to them barely know them, and they are misunderstood in the most fundamental way. Their motivations are harder to figure out than those of most other characters, for sure. It would definitely go some way into explaining why Flowey was so fascinated by Papyrus from the start…

If you do believe in the Narra!Chara theory, there are some small details that match too. Chara is a rather goofy person actually and often makes jokes, but expresses disgust at puns and Sans’ rather lazy sense of humor where he goes for the most obvious wordplays. Just like Papyrus, who the fandom often portrays as hating puns when in reality he loves them, just not the kind Sans makes because they’re easy. Chara is also implied to be quite fond of books/reading and cooking, as is Papyrus. They both come across as inquisitive to me. The narrator's retorts can be unexpectedly sarcastic, or even dark, not unlike some of Papyrus’ dialogue. There’s some other minor things but honestly this post is way too long as is so I’ll just leave it there

Conclusion: Flowey made the same mistake the fandom made in assuming Papyrus was a one-dimensional person who is easy to fool, only be confronted with his new best friend being strangely similar to his old one and now he has no soul and a weird attachment to this strange skeleton who everybody underestimates. He even admits that Chara is the only person he would still care about now. Kind of a weird statement, except if you consider he has found somebody like Chara that sparked some kind of actual emotion in him (whether that be friendship, compassion, guilt, or something else)

What do you guys think? I’d love to hear your thoughts, or if you want to tell me this post was a horrible read from start to finish you can do that too

[go-events]

GO Rom Com Spotlight: @musegnome​

The most excellent @musegnome​ has claimed The Wedding Singer to adapt for Good Omens in the Good Omens Rom Com Event.

For reference, here’s a little background about the source material!

About The Wedding Singer: Set in 1985, Adam Sandler plays a nice guy with a broken heart who's stuck in one of the most romantic jobs in the world, a wedding singer. He loses all hope when he is abandoned at the altar by his fiancé. He meets a young woman named Julia (Drew Barrymore), who enlists his help to plan her wedding. He falls in love with her and must win her over before she gets married.

We spent some time chatting about how the adaptation is coming so far, as well as future plans for it! Now, get to know @musegnome​ a little better!

* * *

goromcom: You know how if you open a Tumblr chat with someone you haven't chatted to before, Tumblr tells you two things they post about? I wanted to tell you that yours reports that you post "about #goromcom and #good omens." Aww! goromcom 4eva!

musegnome: #goromcom 4eva indeed! I actually have a weird online social media anxiety, because I worry that can't read people like I can in person. I've been an accountless Tumblr lurker for years - and finally created Tumblr and Discord accounts when I signed on to the Rom Com event! Everyone has been lovely. Please come say Hi on my new Tumblr!

goromcom: And we’re happy to have you! You chose to adapt The Wedding Singer as your rom com. Has this movie been a favorite of yours, or is there some other reason you chose it?

musegnome: I was a teenager when this movie came out and I've loved it forever (though not of course without an eye toward its more problematic qualities). I also feel like Robbie and Julia map very well to Crowley and Aziraphale respectively, and a lot of the other characters connect wonderfully too (Glenn's attitude toward Julia was reminiscent of Gabriel's attitude toward Aziraphale; Robbie's brother-in-law's nipple-twisting comments were a great way to link to Shadwell, etc.) Because of the aforementioned online social anxiety I was hesitant to jump in to the event, but when I realized I had a list of almost all the GO characters connected to Wedding Singer ones, and a multi-chapter story line outlined, I took the plunge! I'm really excited to mix up a favorite nostalgic movie with my current GO obsession.

goromcom: What's your favorite moment of The Wedding Singer, and are you looking forward to presenting it in your adaptation? Any loose plans for that scene that you can share?

musegnome: Less a favorite moment and more some favorite scenes/lines. The scene where Robbie is talking to the woman who jilted him at the altar, Linda, and as she's telling him about all the reasons she doesn't want to marry him, he says "You know, that information might have been a little more useful to me yesterday." I quote this line all the time, and that scene is definitely making it into this fic! Along with the whole wedding cake/dress shopping montage, capped by the bit where Robbie and Julia listen to the rival wedding singer John Lovitz (to be replaced by Hastur and Ligur ...with Ligur singing "I Will Survive"). That's actually the next scene up for me to write, and just writing this description has me antsy to get started!

goromcom: Oh, some Ligur irony there! It sounds like you may plan to stick closer to the story beats of the original movie rather than making bigger changes?

musegnome: Pretty closely. The major events and scenes will be the same as the Wedding Singer (but stuffed with GO tropes like a turducken), and there's a few original scenes I'm adding to firm up the Wedding Singer/GO bridges. I'm still working on the ending - in the movie, Glenn and Julia get on a plane to go get married in Las Vegas, and Robbie gets on the same plane and stops them. But I have Gabriel as Glenn, and since the angel/demon characters are still angels and demons in this fic, I can NOT imagine Gabriel tolerating plane travel at all, or viewing Las Vegas with anything other than horrified fascination. I have a tentative plan that will be a major change from the Wedding Singer ending, but would tie into the Nazi church scene in GO. We'll see how it plays out though; characters can veer off in unexpected directions!

goromcom: What's an interesting decision you've made in your planning so far--a notable casting decision, a changing of venue, or some other plan you have to paint Good Omens all over your rom com?

musegnome: I thought about doing the fic as a full human AU, but I had a lot of touches I wanted to include that involved angelic/demonic abilities. So I have the Wedding Singer town of Richfield (which is of course Tadfield in the fic) as a kind of neutral space where the angels/demons come to tinker and thwart each other in the happy parts/miserable parts of weddings and wedding planning. Also, The Wedding Singer was almost as much a tribute to the 1980s as it was a romcom; I'm not doing a specific 80s focus, although I've tried to keep music and technology mentions such that the fic could vaguely be set in the 80s. Like I mentioned earlier, a lot of the characters have similar roles and personalities, and map really well - Robbie and Julia as Crowley and Aziraphale, their respective BFFs Holly and Sammy as Anathema and Newt, Glenn as Gabriel, Rosie (the lady Robbie is teaching to sing) as Madam Tracy... so it's been fun to draw those lines.

goromcom: I am blatantly stealing this last question from The Good Place: The Podcast, but here goes: Tell me something "good". It can be something big or small. It can be a charity you think is doing good work, or you can talk about how great your pet is.

musegnome: Not to belabor a point, or to gush too much, but everyone on the GO RomCom server has been a delight. I've really loved getting to interact with everyone - couldn't be a nicer group (or a more welcoming fandom) for a socially anxious gnome to dip online toes into! And I haven't written for fun in a very, VERY long time, and it's been a real confidence booster to see how easily the writing has been flowing so far. (Hope I haven't just jinxed myself....) I'm so thrilled about this whole experience. Also, I have a very cute tiny dog who likes to keep me company while writing.

goromcom: Adorable! 

Stay tuned for the GO adaptation of The Wedding Singer, coming soon!

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT. 

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking. 

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit. 

The writing bit: 

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter. 

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.  

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building. 

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.” 

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??  

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*. 

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM. 

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place. 

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal. 

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.” 

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

[tothedarkdarkseas]

For fanfic writer ask meme: E, J, K, M, P(for any fic or all your fics), R, T, X, and Y. (If that's too many questions, then you can split the answer into multiple posts. Also, no need to answer if you already answered these questions before.)

Thank you so much! I’ll put these below a cut just to account for the length, and I pray Tumblr works like it’s supposed to this evening! I appreciate you having an interest!

E: What character do you identify with most?  Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

I really do not identify with Gorillaz characters and thank god for it, or most characters I tend to prefer! Haha, I know that might sound a bit strange, but I can think of very few characters I’d call “my favorite” that I also felt were a reflection of myself in a major way. Of course that isn’t implying that representation isn’t important, but just speaking for my own personal relationship to media– I live with myself all the time, I like people who live very different lives! Having said that, of the characters I write (all two, possibly three of ‘em) I’d say I identify with some of Stu’s worst qualities over anything else: being unambitious but craving reward, self-centered yet lacking in a concrete sense of self, dumb about mostly everything, overcompensating (to be fair, this is Murdoc as well) and so on. Despite picking fun at him I definitely have an affection for an unlikable guy like Stu, I do have sympathy for being sorta pathetic because I feel like I can access that.

J:  What’s your favorite fanfic trope?  Have you written it?

Hmm! That’s hard to say! At the risk of being an absolute knob, I don’t tend to be a fan of tropes, or at least what I think is meant here by “fanfic tropes” like uhh… the heat goes out and we have to share a bed, or that kind of thing? Is that what this means, the sort of repeated setups for fics? There’s of course a place for everything so I’ve got no real beef with more innocuous stuff, but I wouldn’t say I ever pick to read something because it’s got a “classic” trope. I’m definitely rife with tropes in the broader sense though, I’m rife with things I like and clearly just repeat, haha. I do not smoke pot, but I have a real affinity for characters who do, and this is evidenced by having like… half my stories feature that, haha. If a scene where two characters creep up to being intimate via sharing a joint/bowl/bong counts, that’s definitely a trope I’ve done and would probably do again.

K:  Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

Does the above count? I’d certainly call myself self-indulgent, haha, I like what I like and I don’t stray very far from it. I think unsatisfying or incompatible intimacy is really interesting and I honestly never get tired of reading or writing that. (Er, as much as I “don’t get tired” of writing anything, which is not saying much as I’m very bad and undisciplined.)

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with?  Did it turn into a story?

The only AU I’ve written is Coffin Dancer, which is a story set in the early 1900s about Murdoc being a reanimated corpse and Stu being a gravedigger who buries/exhumes him. Sexy, I know, nothing hotter than… long paragraphs about digging. I think the occult element makes that one a bit weirder than anything else I’ve come up with. I’ve kind of entertained other AU ideas but they tend to be a lot more mundane, to be frank I just really like the characters as they are and I don’t want to change their dynamic too much. As a joke I once suggested something about a riverboat casino (Stu working there, Murdoc trying to pull a money laundering scam via currency exchange, potentially convincing Stu to go in on the scam with him) and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still think about it sometimes and question how to make it work, haha. I think it might be fun to do an AU again, but I think there’s just too much of a gap between what I’d want to do or be capable of doing, and what people actually want to read.

P:  Where did you find the most inspiration for your story ?

Oh gosh, this makes it sound so important and I feel like the biggest jag going to pretend I’ve made anything that great or with particularly impressive roots, haha. A couple came from prompts, so that’s a fairly straightforward answer.

I first began planning Coffin Dancer because I was playing Graveyard Keeper on Steam at the time, haha. If you load up this game, you’ll quickly see there is next to no plot and it is simply a crafting sim. I just sorta… liked the setting, I guess? It is the 1900s and it does follow a graveyard keeper! Following that, I decided it would be a story about Murdoc’s skin turning from tan to green as it does in canon, but giving it a bit of a morbid tint, as opposed to the vague canon handwaves of Murdoc being “immortal” with no clear explanation of what that means.

Ampersands was mostly inspired by me being a big Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan and thinking it’d be fun to show a dynamic similar to Angelus/Drusilla/Spike, but heavily reworked to fit our characters. The first scene I imagined was the shoelace-tying one which has some resemblance to a shot of Angelus knelt at Spike’s feet while still mocking him, and that ended up being the very last scene I wrote (and probably one of the weaker ones.)

On Oysters and Black Water was actually the story that required the least research from me, as I already had an interest in oyster filtration and oyster reef restoration. By no means am I an expert nor is this story a genuinely educated look at this process (I am Genuinely Educated on zero things) but I definitely knew when planning a PB story that I wanted oysters to be used for a filtration system on the island, just as a little nod to something I find neat!

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

This really puts me at risk of sounding knobbish, so to start with: I’m not really a writer. Fanfiction writer is already not the most impressive title, but even that I feel is a little generous for me. I’ve written things, but I struggle far too much and have too little dedication to pretend it’s something I feel “cut from the same cloth” as these folks to do. The writers I admire have “influenced” me in the sense that I’ve wished I could write that way, and I’ve probably/definitely ripped them off.

Some will find this laughable, but I’m a fan of Joey Comeau’s writing style. I’ve enjoyed every book he’s published, in particular the short novels Malagash and Lockpick Pornography, and especially his… err, non-novel collection of cover letters Overqualified. (I think I’ve read Overqualified more than anything else on my bookshelf, but this is saying very very little as you can sit down and read it in about 30 minutes.) The darkly comedic way he presents these ideas, how he’ll expand on these very offbeat details and veer so far from the topic, then take sudden sharp turns into something uncomfortable is just enjoyable to me.

Also somewhat cliched now, but Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn is a beautiful book to me. Beagle’s writing style is ideal for the fantasy setting, the poetry in his prose does not tip over the “purple” line for me (but I’ve always been unclear where the line is, obviously) and I’d really… feel like I’d accomplished something if I could say anything half as powerful as this book.

Shirley Jackson, (famously) the author of The Lottery and (less famously) We Have Always Lived in the Castle springs to mind as well. The latter in particular has a gothic tone, an at times strange sentence structure and an unreliable POV, which probably influenced Coffin Dancer stylistically and everything else I’ve done in perspective/structure.

But as far as influences, nothing more directly influenced me than @elapsed-spiral‘s writing and characterization. Old drum I’ve beat before, but it’s simply the truth. I would not have tried to write fanfiction again (after… many, many years) if I hadn’t found Danni’s stories and felt that excitement of reading something truly special. Now, it’s important to note that Danni is British so they’ll come out in hives if I praise them too much, but sincerely nothing in recent years has made me feel a “passion” for reading or writing like Yearz did. The oneshots Fairy Vale and Beside the Sea also deserve special mention for just being goddamn phenomenally good character studies. “Influence on your writing” could be misleading, in the sense that Danni’s biggest strengths (namely Being Funny, Being Realistic and Knowing What You Are Talking About) are among my biggest weaknesses, and I don’t feel that stylistically we’re all that similar; on the flipside though, I think so much of my “improvement” is really owed to Danni, aaaand I don’t think you’d ever look at something I’ve written and miss the fact that it’s ripping off Yearz in one way or another.

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

Ahaha, alright, this jogs my memory and I do remember stepping on eggshells to answer this before! I mentioned above that I’m just not a big fan of tropes in general, but that means nothing as I don’t… have good taste. I never have. Famously bad taste over here. I don’t have any interest in raining on anyone’s fun or policing fan content, but I think we’re all perfectly fine just co-existing without feeling obligated to anything. More than anything else, in Gorillaz specifically I’d say there are some portrayals of their relationship that I find a little dodgy and I tend to avoid, but I recognize full well that many people may feel the same way about me! I also just like the characters to be compelling and to be themselves, whatever your version of them is. Of course my characterization is bonkers and mostly made-up and I have no expectation that someone else’s should resemble mine, but even if we have different ideas, I don’t like to feel you can slot them out and anyone else in? Which is why standard tropes like “coffeeshop” or “fake dating” don’t tend to be my favorite. Oh, I’m also a fuddy-duddy and I don’t love the nicknames, haha.

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading?  Are you a voracious reader?  Do you carefully pick and choose?  Something in between?

I’m not a very big reader these days! I’d like to offer you a good excuse here, but I’m just picky, truth be told.

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories?  Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?  

In total honesty, it takes all of about a month to become completely unsatisfied with anything I’ve written. That’s not like, a plea for sympathy, it’s just being objective. I write comparatively little and comparatively slow, so whatever growth that may happen is still pretty limited and it’s a little disheartening, even if it’s also my own fault for having poor discipline. I would not call any of my stories “good,” at best “good for what they are.” There are definitely some I wished did better, I wished with a stupid amount of sincerity would hit some magical validating number that would Suddenly Mean It Was Good… but after a little distance, I can always understand why they wouldn’t.

Hoooowever, some are undeniably worse than others. Based on both hits and kudos, my most popular story is my first one (I Couldn’t Feel, So I Would Touch) and this is truly baffling as it’s garbage. I mean, with no exaggeration I just think this is bad writing through and through, it’s truly just the worst thing I’ve written over the age of 20. I hoped I’d get this question purely because of this, haha, I feel such shame every time I see this story at the top of my statistics page. If we consider that to be the “most popular,” no, I do not tend to be most satisfied with the most popular story. We could define that differently though; for example, I think the story that got the most notes here and I received spectacular fanart on (a thing I just… can’t believe can happen, how nice is that?) was Oysters, and at a time I did consider that my favorite, I was incredibly proud of it when I posted, and even if I’ve grown exhausted by my overwriting too much to read it again I do still rate it pretty favorably compared to the others. So it depends on what constitutes popular! But if we’re just talking hits and kudos, sadly my stats page puts some of the worst stuff at the top.

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Chapter 10 of Can't Find My Way Home is posted!!  The boys are getting closer to home. Read at Ao3.

Chapter 10

Simon

I’m not sure if it’s the pilot’s voice that wakes me or the subtle shifting of Baz’s position. Doesn’t matter. I blink my eyes a few times to clear the sleep and raise my head from his shoulder.

Fuck. I’ve drooled on Baz’s shirt.

Not a lot, mind you, but there’s still a small spot of it right below his collarbone.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed. Baz rolls his shoulders and rotates his neck to get the kinks out, and I’m completely mesmerized by the sight. He raises one eyebrow at me. “Do I have something on my face?”

I shake my head. My mouth is dry but I manage to mumble some words out. “No, I just can’t figure out how you can look so fucking perfect after sleeping on a plane.”

I like it when Baz smiles. I like everything about him, but I rarely saw him smile like this at Watford. Smirk or sneer, yes, but a genuine smile like the one he’s giving me now? Hardly.

I can’t help but grin back at him.

I poke at my drool stain on his shirt. “I seem to have mucked you up a bit, though.”

Baz glances down at it and then rolls his eyes at me. “Eternal mouth breather. Some things never change.”

I shake my head. “I must look a fright.”

He reaches out and pushes a curl off my forehead. “You are a mess, Simon. A glorious fucking catastrophe.” His smile is even wider and his cool fingertips trail down my face.

“And you like that?”

“I love it.”

“Why?”

Baz leans closer, hand cupping my face. “Because we match.”

His lips brush mine before I can respond. I’m distracted for the moment but when he pulls back I frown at him. “You’re the furthest thing from a mess, Baz. You’re bloody flawless. You always have been. Drove me stark raving mad, it did.”

It’s his turn to frown. “I’m not. Not in the slightest.”

“What, you expect me to believe it’s all been a front? No one’s that good at faking it, Baz.”

“Perhaps I am.”

His expression closes off and I’m kicking myself now. I know this about him. I know how he retreats when any sign of weakness is exposed. He just admitted something deeply personal to me, something important, and I fucked it up by answering that way.

I take his hand.

It takes a moment for his fingers to grip mine back. “Hey. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I sigh. I may as well keep going, now that I’ve put my foot in it. “You’ve just always been the epitome of perfection to me, Baz. I’m a walking disaster, always have been—you know that. But you . . . you made it all look so effortless—schoolwork, football, grace and refinement, brilliant banter, striking good looks. It made me . . . made me feel . . . well, quite stunningly inadequate, I suppose.”

His eyes blaze. The look Baz gives me is as fiery as any of our altercations at school. “No, Simon. You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re a brilliant cataclysm. A fucking supernova.” His fingers squeeze mine hard. I hold my breath at the intensity of his gaze. “You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. If I managed to get too close I’d be incinerated. But trying to stay out of your orbit left me so cold.” He’s so close I can see the blues and greens of his eyes clearly now. “I was always on the outside, looking in. Never good enough to be part of your inner circle. Never brave enough to be your friend.”

“But . . .” I falter. I have no idea what to say. It’s dislocating to hear him say such things. We’ve eased into this physical closeness in a matter of days but there is so much we don’t know, don’t understand, about each other.

I do understand one thing. And it’s not something he gets a say in. Because it’s how I feel, how I’ve always felt about him, even when he was a thorn in my side, an epic arsehole, my absolute nemesis.  

My singular obsession.

“You’re fucking perfect to me, you twat. Always have been. You can think whatever stupid bloody thoughts you want, but you can’t change my mind on this.” My voice softens as I reach out to curl a wisp of his hair around my finger. “You could be a bloody train wreck, Baz Pitch, but you’d still leave me breathless.”

His gaze relaxes and he tilts his head. I let my fingers cup his jaw and he leans into my touch. “How do you do it, Simon? How do you always know exactly what to say that goes to the heart of me?”

I shrug. “I don’t think about it, I guess. I just say what I feel.”

His lips are on mine, and then he’s breathlessly snogging me into the seatback.

It takes a moment for him to come up for air. “I’m not as perfect as you think. But, Christ, what I’d give to live up to that ideal.”

I pull his face to mine. I want him to feel this kiss, this regard I have for him, the protective sense that overwhelms me when I hear him talk this way.

I don’t know this side of Baz. This uncertain, relentlessly negative, self-critical side. I don’t know what’s happened in the four years since we lived together. I don’t know if he’s always hidden this inside.

It hurts to think about it.

The pilot’s voice booms out again. We’re veering down for the landing. I pull away, briefly running my thumb along his cheek before I lean back in my seat. “We are not finished with this conversation.” I grip the armrest with my left hand and Baz’s hand with my right. “But I hate landings. And I can’t talk this through with you and keep calm about this bloody plane at the same time.”

A smile lights up his face. “I think I can help with that.” And then Baz leans over and starts to trace his lips up my neck.

It seems like no time before the wheels hit the tarmac and the plane taxis down the runway. I’ve had my eyes closed the whole time.

I open them to find Baz grinning at me. “Alright then, Simon?”

I swallow. “Pretty effective method you’ve got there.”

Baz

We’ve got a few hours to kill here in Reykjavik before our connection to London heads out. Simon may want to pick up that conversation where we left off but I’m a master of deflection and redirection.

It doesn’t work with this wanker though. He knows my tactics too well.

We’re seated in the First-Class Lounge again. Different airport, similar setup. Simon has demolished another shockingly large pile of food with a swiftness that is astonishing. It’s not as if the buffet is going to magically disappear any minute, but he’s been focused on shoveling the food down nonetheless. It’s been quite absorbing to watch.  

But he’s finished eating now and fixing me with a penetrating stare. “Now, about that bollocks on the plane.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Yes, you do, you prat. You know exactly what I’m referring to. The hypercritical shite. That negativity.”

It is impossible to distract and divert a Sociology major who’s made a special study of this sort of thing. I’m internally cursing the discipline as a whole and Simon in specific. But he’s patient and he’s kind and I’m pathetically weak for him, so I find myself opening up far more than I ever intended.

It comes out. Bit by bit. My mother’s legacy. The way it’s loomed over me my whole life. The survivor’s guilt that eats at me. The fear of disappointing the one parent I have left. The numbing misery of day in, day out at a job that sucks the very life from me. The isolation I feel in New York.

The crippling self-doubt that I am never going to get it right. Not with work, not with my family, not with the life choices I make.

Not even with Simon. That bit I keep to myself.

He listens, taking it all in, encouraging me with a word or gesture, a touch that grounds me. He’s so fucking good at this. They definitely aren’t paying him enough at that care home.

I’m spent by the time I finish, certain that this, if nothing else, will cause him to write me off as a bad deal and disappear from my life as soon as we reach London.

Simon slides his arm around my waist instead and leans his head on my shoulder. “You were right. You’re as much of a fucking disaster as I am.”

I stiffen at his words but he only laughs. “Relax, you numpty. I happen to like disasters. They’re comforting and familiar. Especially brilliant ones, like you.”

I do relax against him. I don’t know when I’ve felt this at peace. Simon’s warm and comforting and nothing I’ve said has deterred him in the slightest.

This is all too fucking good to be true.

Simon

It’s heart-breaking to hear him. I’ll never let that on though. Baz’s got himself so tightly wound, trying to be everything for everyone, striving to reach expectations that are unrealistic, so much so that he’s ignoring the person who actually matters most—himself.

His father wouldn’t want him to put himself through this. I may not know his family well but his Aunt Fiona always doted on him—in a brusque, profanity-laden, bitterly sarcastic kind of way but you could see her heart was in the right place. Mostly.

They likely aren’t privy to any of this. There is no way they would let him burn himself out in New York like this, burden himself with an existence that stifles him so, if they knew.

I’m sure of it.

I just need to figure out how to get him to realize that and tell them when he’s home.

I’ve no idea how I’m going to manage that.

But I’m damn well going to try.

Baz

Our flight departs in less than an hour.

It’s a shorter one this time. We’ll be in London in just under three hours. I should be home in time for Christmas dinner.

I’ll be saying goodbye to Simon in three hours.

I don’t want to. Now that I’ve found him I don’t want to let him out of my sight. That’s mad, obviously. But I still can’t help wanting it.

I know I have his number in my mobile. I know I can call him, text him anytime. I can make plans to see him again before I go back to New York. I can Skype. There are a million things I can do to stay in touch and none of them seem enough at the moment.

There is one more thing I can do, something to put off saying goodbye for just a little bit longer. I’ve been thinking about it since before we left Ebb’s. I turned the idea around in my head the entire drive to Washington.

Simon’s alone for the holiday. He mentioned that the first night. All I have to do is ask him to come home with me for Christmas.

Thinking about it is the easy part. It’s the asking that’s a challenge.

I don’t quite know what I’ll do if he says no.

Simon

Baz is a stickler for punctuality. Always has been. Some things never change. We arrive at the gate early, no sign of a boarding queue yet. We could have stayed in the lounge a bit longer.

It’s nice, the lounge. This trip is likely the first and last time I’m going to travel in such luxury.

I spot a lavatory across from the gate. I bump Baz’s arm. “I’m going to the lav.”

“I’ll be expecting your cultural commentary on the local facilities on your return.” I know that sardonic tone but the grin that accompanies it is only now growing more familiar.

“Sod off.” I can hear Baz laughing as I walk away.

The lavatory actually looks like it came out of an IKEA catalog. I think IKEA’s Swedish actually but the effect is very much the same. Shiny white porcelain, posh looking fixtures. Each toilet’s got it’s own little counter and sink. It’s bigger than the entire bathroom in my current flat.

That’s not saying much. My flat’s tiny.

Fuck.

The toilet must have some electronic sensor thingy. It flushed as soon as I walked into the stall and I swear it’s flushed at least five times already. It’s unnerving, it is. I feel like I should apologize to someone for all the water it’s wasting.

The sink’s got this posh, artsy looking faucet. It looks like some modern minimalist sculpture of an aeroplane. That’s kind of cute for an airport. It must have electronic sensors too, because as soon as my hands get close to it a stream of warm water gushes out. Soap too.

Where the fuck are the hand towels? There’s nothing on the walls, no dispenser, no hand dryer. I flail about for a bit, even coming out of the stall to look at the main sink area. All the faucets there have the same design but I can’t for the life of me find anything to dry my hands.

I run them under the water one more time, to splash my face, thinking I’ll just have to wipe my hands on my jeans (points taken away for that inconvenience) when twin blasts of hot air shoot down from the side wings of the faucet.

Scares the fuck out of me, it does.

The sodding faucet has an integrated automated hand dryer. It would be cool if it didn’t take me so bloody long to figure it out.

And if it hadn’t made me jump. I’m glad I’m the only one in here. I must have looked like a complete knobhead. Thank the stars Baz didn’t come in with me. He’d be laughing his arse off.

He’s leaning against a pillar when I come out, tapping away at his mobile. “I can hold your satchel if you need to go.”

He tilts his head. “You’re not going to give me the rundown of the amenities then? Lavatories as windows into cultural norms and what not?”

I decide then and there I’m not telling him a thing about the toilets. Let him figure out the stealth hand dryer on his own.

“It’ll make more sense to discuss the cultural significance after you’ve used the lav. I’ll hold your bag.”

Baz hands over his satchel and saunters across the corridor. He’s just walking to an airport toilet and he still looks like he could be on the runway at fashion week, the tosser. So bloody poised and posh.

Baz

I broke down and texted Father while Simon was in the lav. Told him I might be bringing a friend home for Christmas dinner.

His response was alarmingly genial. Daphne texted me a moment later to let me know she was preparing the guest room down the hall from my room. They’re both far too excited at the thought of me bringing someone home. It’s not like I don’t have friends. I do.

Dev. Niall. I’m sure there are others I’m forgetting at the moment.

This is different. This is the first time I’m bringing someone I care about, in a romantic way, home with me. It’s daunting.

And exhilarating.

Of course, Father and Daphne don’t know that. That this is the boy I’ve been in love with for years.

They’re both quite accepting of my queerness. Daphne always asks if I’m seeing someone. She’s far more polite about it than Fiona, who usually just asks if I’m getting laid.

I’ve never dated anyone long enough to have the opportunity to bring them home, if I’d even wanted to in the first place. Home is private. It’s my safe place. I’ve not been in a relationship serious enough to warrant introducing the family.

Simon knows my family. Not well, of course. Our icy coexistence at school meant his introduction to my relations was perfunctory at best.

It won’t be now.

I’ve no concerns about them liking him. It’s practically impossible to dislike Simon. Trust me, I tried. My siblings will likely want to adopt him on sight and jettison me.

Not really. They love me, the little hellions. I love them too, even if they routinely pester me to distraction.

Simon though. He’s a natural with children. By our third year he was the one who would take on the first years—calmed their insecurities at the back to school picnic, distracted them with stories and games when they would get homesick, organized the inter-class snowball fights in winter.

I can’t tell you how many times I’d walk in, at the start of term, to find a small contingent of first-year boys huddled around a board game on the floor of our room, Simon benevolently beaming at the lot of them.

I’d never stay too long. Wouldn’t do to have them think I’d gone all soft. Didn’t matter that I’d do the same with Mordelia (and later my other siblings as well) when I’d come home for holiday breaks.

Couldn’t let the whole world know I had a heart.  

I just need to summon up the nerve to ask Simon.

I’m so distracted thinking about it that when the invisible automated hand dryer built into the faucet blasts into existence it startles me so much that I literally recoil from the sink.

I’m glad I didn’t come in here with Simon. He’d never let me live that down.

I take comfort in the fact that it likely scared the devil out of him too.

Simon

The queue forms as I wait for Baz. I wonder if this flight has the same kind of first-class seats as the previous one. I’ll be damned if I spend my last three hours with him with a blasted armrest between us.

I know it’s not literally the last three hours I’ll ever spend with Baz, but at the moment the thought of separating from him at all, for who knows how long, makes my outlook on the whole situation bleak.

I don’t know what he has planned for his break. I don’t want to impose and ask. He’s only home for a week and I don’t want to intrude on plans with his family. I hope there’s a chance I’ll get to see him again before he goes back to New York.

It’s alright if I don’t. He’s got my number. I’ve got his. I’ll make do.

Even if I don’t particularly want to make do.

It’s so fucking inconvenient, now that I’ve finally sorted my feelings for him, that we’re doomed to be separated by a whole bloody ocean. I couldn’t have figured this out at some point during the years we roomed together? It would have been a sight more practical.

The perils of not letting myself think about things. That’s what Penny would say. She’s going to have kittens when I tell her about this. Of course, I’m going to tell her. Penny and I have a no-secrets pact.

She’s not going to let me hear the end of this. I just know it.

There’s a brush against my elbow. Baz is back. I hand him his satchel. “Queue up, shall we?”

“No need. We’re first-class. We’ll get to pre-board.” He arches an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve gone and traded in our seat assignments again.”

I shake my head. “I’ve not, but I damn well plan on it, if the seats are anything like the previous ones.”

Baz twines the fingers of his free hand with mine. “We’ll surprise some deserving pair in Economy, shall we?”

“The last pair wasn’t quite what I’d call deserving,” I mutter.

He huffs a laugh and pulls me closer. “I’m quite enjoying this possessive streak of yours.”

He may as well get used to it. It’s not going away anytime soon. I’ve already caught a few blokes giving him the eye here at the gate and I’m not above glaring at them. Not getting our fucking first-class seats, if I’ve got anything to say about it.

“I’m still anxiously awaiting your assessment of the facilities, Simon. What cultural tidbits have you acquired?”

I should have known he wouldn’t let this go, the wanker. “Obviously a society that prides itself on cleanliness, stark design features, modern amenities.” I give him a sidelong glance. “It looked like a fucking IKEA display in there.”

“Wrong culture. This is Iceland. IKEA’s Swedish.”

“Did you get blasted by the hidden hand dryer?” The startled look in his eyes gives it away. “You did!”

“I was momentarily distracted.”

“Bollocks. It got you too, you posh twat.” I’m literally crowing with satisfaction. It’s not often anything catches Baz unawares. That must have been a sight to see.

“Oh shut it, you nightmare. You’re the one assessing an entire nation by the state of their toilets.” “I told you. You learn a lot about a place from toilets.”

Baz

I’m literally dragging my feet towards the boarding area. Each step takes me one moment closer to the end of this adventure with Simon.

I need to figure out how to ask him to come home with me.

When should I ask? I’m tempted to ask him right now but it would make the flight tremendously awkward if he said no. He wouldn’t say no, would he?

Would he?

I don’t know. I’d like to think not. But then again, he’ll be tired and jet-lagged, likely craving the comfort of his flat, cramped though it may be, rather than enduring the company of strangers for the day.

I’ll ask him when we get to London.

Simon

I’m checking out the other passengers at the gate, seeking out likely candidates for the surprise upgrade to our first-class seats. There are a few likely candidates so far. A young couple, an elderly pair, a harried looking mom with a whiny toddler. Any of them would do. As long as they’re seated in a two-person section. I fully intend to snuggle up to Baz and take any and every opportunity to snog him.  Preferably in the kind of privacy we had on the last leg of this trip.

As expected, the first-class seats are the same as before. I speak to the flight attendant and explain my request. He gives me the same odd look the woman on the last flight gave me but then something softens in his expression as he looks us over and takes in our still clasped hands.

“The armrest is a bit of a barrier, isn’t it?” He says it kindly, with an amused look in his eyes.

I nod, flushing a bit at his instant comprehension of the situation.

“Alright if I just pop through to Economy for a moment and check out a likely seat switch?”

He gestures to the curtain at the far end of our section.

It doesn’t take me a minute to find the seats I want. The mum with the toddler looks exhausted, worn out and near tears. They’re seated on the left, a window and aisle combo that mimics what we had before.

That’s it then.  

I tell the flight attendant and he makes short work of the matter. The mother’s face is incredulous as he brings her to our seats. The little boy’s tears are still drying on his face, but he’s taking it all in silently now.

Baz and I wave away her words of gratitude and I tell her she’s the one doing us a favor. She’s got a sense of humour it seems, because she responds that she’s sure the rest of Economy feel we’re doing them a favour, by taking her cranky offspring out of their orbit. She leans in to whisper “I’m not sure this lot will be quite as happy to have us in their midst.” She nods at the dark-suited businessmen who surround us.

Baz winks at her. “I think it’s quite what they deserve.”

We’re in our seats shortly, the pilot’s voice already starting the pre-flight commentary as we buckle in.

It’s Baz who flips the armrest up this time, taking my hand and pulling me close. I drop my head on his shoulder. It feels like it belongs there.

I sense the brush of his lips in my hair. “We’re almost home, Simon.” There’s a wistfulness to his tone and I’m excessively gratified to hear it.

I think Baz wants this day to end as little as I do.