#when in 2020 people went way too far in the opposite direction acting like he was some kind of leftst icon KDKDFKD

[raytorosaurus]

also as a random side note am i really seeing people acting like founding and running an nft business is anywhere on the same level as some bitcoin investment skdkfjdjsnd c'mon now

[salty-fang]

Flowers

@daminette-december2019-2020

Marinette loved flowers. Everyone dear to her knew that. Obviously, she couldn’t always get flowers but if you needed a gift for her, flowers were the clear option.

Damian knew this, so every year, he’d buy her flowers and a gift on top. It’d always be a practical one like a roll of fabric or a jacket and mittens because of how easily she got sick. Her response always made his day, whether she’d try and return it to him, which he would never allow. Or, she would turn into a tomato on the spot. It was assuring yet amusing to say the least when he would check their commemorative photos and she would always have an exhausted yet flustered expression. No matter how much she whined, those were his favourite photos.

Damian had always been creative with the flowers he got. They had lovely scents, complemented her outfits or their colour signified something. Usually, he had gotten roses, Marinette’s favourite by far, that were yellow with petals that were tinged red. They always meant ‘we’re friends but I think I’m falling in love with you.’ That translated in Damian speak was, ‘you’re a reliable acquaintance but now you’re more tolerable’. If Marinette ever noticed his love, she didn’t comment. However, she was oblivious. Much like he was to his own feelings.

Damian knew when love was unrequited. At least, he thought he did. Marinette’s infatuation with Adrien had never been healthy yet she never realised. Even when it broke her heart to see Adrien fawn over other people of the human species, she’d still chase after him. Literally. And it was always up to him to pick up the pieces. Damian did it, knowing it would scar his heart deeper than each wound ran and yet, he was willing to endure the pain if it meant she was happy and smiling.

That had fuelled his competitive nature with Adrien. You see, Damian and Adrien were bitter rivals. They didn’t like each other; hell, Damian had destroyed him in an exhibition match when he first arrived. The day was still clear in his mind. Marinette had sided with Adrien and whilst he couldn’t pretend that that didn’t hurt, he fought with such fervour, such ferocity, that he forgot the pain. Momentarily. For days, he ignored Marinette. He let his phone go to voicemail, didn’t read her texts, brushed past her at school. He couldn’t speak to her. He couldn’t look at her and he knew he was being selfish but he needed some time.

It didn’t help his heart when he saw her face- tears in her eyes and a face like a lost puppy.

Although, he knew Adrien would deal with it. And deal with it he did. It shouldn’t have hurt to see Marinette in his arms, her eyes tinged red and her cheeks rouge. It really shouldn’t have. After all, everyone knew that Marinette was in love with Adrien. So, he really should have expected when they had their first kiss.

Or when they went on their first date.

Or when Marinette forgot about him. Forgot was a harsh verb but in the last two months, he’d only seen her twice. She had been too preoccupied with Adrien to notice her relationship with him was falling apart. The late 3am conversations stopped abruptly. There were no more flowers or elaborate gifts. He stuck to the bare minimum because he wanted -no- he needed to be selfish.

He needed time away from them. From her. It wasn’t as if he didn’t feel happy for her, that was far from what had happened but... was it selfish to love knowing it would never be returned? It was futile pondering over the ‘what ifs' but it was nice to let his mind wander. Longing never eased his predicament but it was a temporary relief.

One where he didn’t have to lock eyes with them and pretend that his shoes were more interesting. One where he wouldn’t have to walk in the opposite direction or take a longer route to avoid them. Or where he didn’t see the piteous glances and snide glares directed at him.

He wanted to feel content. Joyous that Marinette found someone that made her happy.

Which was why he needed to go back. Back to where everything made sense. Back to Gotham. He wasn’t important here anyway. Marinette wouldn’t miss him.

That was the first lie he told himself.

Hands stuffed in pockets and head low, he walked to school, knowing it would be the last time he would see it. He had been hoping to avoid anyone he knew but alas, the goddess of luck was against him. He could see Marinette sprinting towards him and as tempted as he was to run away, it just wasn’t worth the effort. Especially not today. So instead, he pulled himself farther into his hoodie, obscuring his face. His attempt to blend into the background had been foiled by the meddling girl that was Marinette. And that annoyed him.

This was the second lie he told himself.

Marinette had stuck to him like glue. The entire day, she was at his side. And the reason was bluntly obvious as to why that was. Adrien had been busy. Marinette wouldn’t tell anyone where he’d gone but it was pretty clear that he wasn’t at school. Damian was happy to have Marinette back but he would have preferred it under different circumstances. He didn’t want to act as an Adrien 2.0. He wanted Marinette to hang out with him because she wanted to see him. Not because her boyfriend wasn’t in.

Her actions had soured his mood and yet his heart ached for her. Today had probably meant nothing to her but it meant the world to him. It was an amazing way to go back home, carrying sweet memories of your best friend with you. The flight had been booked for tomorrow in the afternoon, giving him loads of time to pour his feelings into a letter for her. He needed the closure from his first love. Sure, he’d dated around, trying to find anything strong enough to drown his feelings. But they were never enough. Nothing ever was when she was around.

Which is why he had ordered a large bouquet of yellow roses. Yellow roses tinged red at the tips of the petals. If he was going to write her a letter, he needed to go back. Back to when he first fell. Fell completely in love.

The letter had come out better than he had expected. Short and precise yet he was oddly satisfied with how it turned out. The hardest part was how to get everything to Marinette without her responding. He already knew what her response would be. And he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want his heart to shatter. Not when it was already so broken. He knew that the best time to give it to her would be when she was asleep or working in the bakery which is why he went in the afternoon.

He loaded his luggage into a taxi-something so common that he would never have done before. Taking several deep breaths, he waited, watching his hand shake as he yanked open the door.

“Hey, Mrs Cheng.”

“Damian, what a lovely surprise. You must be here for Marinette?” A solemn nod was all the answer she needed. “Make your way upstairs. And call me Sabine.”

“Will do next time, Mrs Cheng.” He ran up the stairs, a small grin on his face as he knocked on her trapdoor. Giving it a few seconds, he knocked again before entering.

“I’ll just go.” He muttered, leaving the letter and bouquet on the stairwell. He turned on his heel, eyes shining as he tried desperately to compose himself. That was what Marinette had meant when she said that Adrien was “busy". They were too busy making out to notice his presence. Once again. He should have been used to it.

So, why did he feel like shit when he heard Marinette call after him? Or when he hopped into the taxi, knowing that she couldn’t catch up to him? Why did he feel like he was wrong? Like he was too clingy? He pushed her away. He grew too dependent on her being in his life. She could do whatever she wanted. She didn’t belong to him or anyone for that matter. If she was happy with Adrien, so be it.

It was his fault for being too slow.

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthisfault.

The taxi was booked for the next two hours which gave him enough time to come to terms with everything. He’d finally see his family; he’d get to hold Titus and play with Alfred and feed Batcow. He’d be back on patrol for his vigilante duties and he would do a kick ass job at it. And there would be no more feelings. No more overwhelming emotions that had to be kept bottled up. No more feeling alone surrounded by people who didn’t understand him. But most of all, no more Marinette. And it hurt to think like that.

Marinette was relentless. That much he knew. So, he was expecting her to try and find him. Which is why he booked the flight at the most obscure airport. He locked eyes with her, seeing her dart towards him, letter in hand. She had still found him and as he watched her run, he felt his chest constrict. And not in the good way. Functioning purely on adrenaline, he ran, pushing her out of the way of the approaching car. He heard the desperate squeal of the tyres. The sound of the sirens.

Yet, the thing that was clearest to him was the guttural scream that ripped through Marinette’s throat.

And in that moment, he wanted to hold her hand, stroke her head, whisper comforting words to her. Anything that would help ease her sorrow. But all he could offer her was his shaking hand as he rubbed his finger against her knuckles.

“I want,” he coughed, spitting out the thick substance onto the ground. “I want you to forget about me. I’ll only cause you pain.”

That was his third and final lie before he was wheeled off into the back of an ambulance.

It took four hours for him to be pronounced dead.

It took a month for his funeral to happen.

It took a year for Marinette to stop blaming herself for his death.

It took her 70 years to forget about him.

Everyone dear to Marinette knew she hated flowers. The only ones she loved where the ones that Damian had given to her. And with her they remained, still upright as if someone had been trying to tell her that they were there.

There with her until she too died.

[soundsof71]

So, considering you are a passionate fan of music released in 1971, I feel justifiably obligated to ask you what you think of Buffy Sainte-Marie's 'She Used to Wanna Be a Ballerina' album. 😂 (Also, it would make me beyond happy if you could post more about Buffy, my friend! Thank you! ❣)

Buffy Sainte-Marie + Crazy Horse - what’s not to love? LOL I confess that it was the Crazy Horse connection that caught my attention first. I had a general idea who Buffy was, had seen her on TV a few times, but I was a big Crazy Horse fan. News that they were her backing band for this album was easily enough for me to scoop it up.

They weren’t doing anything much with Neil Young in 1971 (other than this album, on which Neil also appeared!), but they had released a tasty solo album in February 71, produced by Jack Nitzsche (who also produced this, and would later marry Buffy), and featuring Ry Cooder (also featured here, although did not marry Buffy). 

(btw, the first place that Buffy, Ry, and Jack worked together was on the Nic Roeg film Performance, starring Mick Jagger. People obviously remember Mick in that, but musically, Buffy was the best part!) 

She Used To Wanna... also features Jesse Ed Davis, a Native American guitarist and singer who was a frequent “usual suspect” at these sort of “sure, invite everyone!” jam albums of the era, and played a prominent role at 1971′s biggest concert (at least in the US), The Concert for Bangladesh on August 1.

(I know you know  RUMBLE: The Indians Who Rocked The World, the documentary about indigenous music’s influence on rock and roll, which has chapters on both Buffy and Jesse Ed. I just watched it again recently, and love it! A reminder of Buffy’s pivotal role in classic rock history. Not mentioned in the film: she relentlessly championed the work of her fellow Canadians Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen, helping them get their first record deals.)

I haven’t listened to She Used To Wanna Be A Ballerina for a while, so I definitely need to do that, along with posting more pictures of Buffy.  (I can’t believe I’ve only posted two!) 

But I’ll tell you what still stands out to me about that record years later. “Smack Water Jack” is an underrated track from Carole King’s Tapestry that got a ton of airplay at the time. Quincy Jones did an instrumental cover as the title track for his terrific 1971 album, too, but it has somehow faded to obscurity since then. Buffy takes a playful trifle, and turns it into a powerful fable of men of color who explode into violence in response to the violence visited upon them, and self-satisfaction of whites in authority who answer their demands for better living conditions by killing them on the spot. 

No need for a trial when you can murder them in the streets, right? “You can't talk to a man when he don't wanna understand / And he don't wanna understand” hits different when Buffy sings it, and in 2020 for that matter. 

It’s also just a terrific performance whose combination of soul and rock and roll and driving piano in a sort of Old West-sounding context would have made this sound right at home on a record like Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection  or something by The Band. I’m limited to five video embeds per post so I can’t embed it here, so I'm linking instead: anyone who hasn’t heard this definitely needs to.

Her cover of Neil’s CSNY track “Helpless” has things I like even better than Neil’s original, including Merry Clayton standing in for CSN. Buffy’s version is more muscular (thanks again to Crazy Horse), and taps even more deeply into the isolation of the song that the star power of CSNY somewhat obscured. 

Buffy’s version also made a brief but memorable appearance in the 2018 film Hotel Artemis, starring Jodie Foster. A weird little movie that I loved maybe more than it deserved LOL but I recommend nonetheless:

I know that this album gets attention because of the unusual number of covers, including one by Leonard Cohen, and a cover of a cover that Leonard had made famous on top of that, called "Song of the French Partisan” (hers is the far superior version imo, a song of French resistance to Nazi occupation from the perspective of a woman hiding a resister), but there are a couple of standout originals too. 

I love the title of this record, and the title track is a delightful little stomper that playfully cautions against equating the intentions of grown women with the childhood fantasies they’ve grown out of. More Merry Clayton goodness here on backing vocals too. 

“Soldier Blue” is a powerful song first written for the 1970 film of the same name, billed at the time as “The most savage film in history” -- and maybe it was. It used the 1864 Sand Creek Massacre as a metaphor for Vietnam, and it's still shockingly brutal. It was the third-highest grossing movie in the UK in 1971, though, and the single became a top-10 hit for Buffy there. 

It didn’t do as well here, either the song or the movie. Perhaps not shockingly in retrospect, Soldier Blue was pulled from American theaters after a few days, the Vietnam metaphor not at all lost on the Nixon administration. 

As horrifying as it was, this is about when I was reading Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee (first published in 1970), and Soldier Blue resonated with me in a whole lot of ways. Here’s the song in the opening credits of the movie.

I was also really struck by “Moratorium”, which is the story of “Universal Soldier” (from her 1963 debut, but a bigger hit for Donovan in 1965), coming from the opposite direction. In the earlier song, she blamed war on the soldiers who think that fighting is honorable, but here, she has empathizes with the young men, boys really in many cases, who’ve been lied to by their countries, their parents, and even their friends. They’re not vainglorious. They’ve been duped by people they trusted. 

(I don't think she takes enough into account how many men sign up to fight because they want to embrace and celebrate their worst, most violent impulses, which was of course an undercurrent of “Universal Soldier”, but I appreciate her empathy here. More than one thing is true at a time.)

Buffy goes even farther, though, calling on soldiers to support and validate demands for peace as explicitly supporting them, summed up in the unforgettable cry, "Fuck the war and bring our brothers home!" 

1971 was the peak of antiwar demonstrations in the US, with the biggest crowds ever seen in this country until the 2017 Women’s March. The May 1971 demonstrations pretty much shut down Washington, culminating with Vietnam Veterans Against The War throwing back their medals on the steps of the US Capitol, incredibly powerful stuff to see on TV in my formative years, and Buffy was right there in it. Anti-war songs were a cottage industry for sure, but nobody was writing with the nuance and empathy that Buffy was.

Here’s a 1972 performance of “Moratorium”, Buffy and a piano, and more emotionally bare than that:

There’s obviously lots more to say about Buffy, far outside the realm of protest music that was actually just a small part of her musical palette -- her pioneering experiments with electronic music, her educational philanthropy starting in her 20s, Sesame Street, you name it. Her commercial peak was still in front of her, and while I can’t say that this is my favorite of her records, it does have some of my favorite songs of hers, and 1971 and She Used to Wanna Be A Ballerina is definitely where I went from knowing who Buffy Sainte-Marie was to being a fan. 

I'll also note as I do now and again that while this blog started as an offshoot of a book on 1971 that I’d started but abandoned, I mostly listen to music released now. That’s always been my policy, including in 1971. When 1972 rolled up, I was mostly listening to music from 1972, music from ‘80 in ‘80, ‘91 in ‘91, 2018 in 2018, etc., to name just a few other favorites. (Plus The Beatles, okay? LOL I still listen to The Beatles every day. No apologies.) Honestly? It took me until 2011, in my fifties, when a whole bunch of 40th anniversary editions of 1971 albums got released all at once that made me think, “Wait a minute, this was maybe THE pivotal year in classic rock history!” 

So yeah, the historian in me dug into 1971, but even though I happened to be alive and enthralled by music in that year, what I’m doing here has nothing to do with nostalgia, or any idea that that was the *best* year in music, even if for the narrow slice of music that is classic rock, yeah, it absolutely is. For soul/R&B too, and for the explosion of women artists outside the even narrower confines of pop as well. This is not subject to debate. No year like it, before or since. It's just that classic rock is a such a narrow slice, and I like my slices wide. LOL Which is also why my blog has less and less 1971 content as I go along. 

While my general policy is that my favorite year for music is THIS year, this particular year hasn’t left me as much energy as usual for listening to music. Some of it is These Trying Times™, some of it is my bipolarity and schizophrenia getting the better of me in waves, as is the way with these, uhm, things. (Keep taking those meds, kids!) I listen to music and post about the people making it as a creative act, not a passive or reflexive one, and I just haven’t felt as creative as usual.

(This is also has everything to do with why so many Asks have been piling up unanswered. I apologize if you’re one of the many kind and indulgent souls who’s gotten in touch, but I swear I’m gonna get to ‘em all!)

To get an idea of what I’m ACTUALLY passionate about right now, my “to be edited later” running list of 2020 favorites randomly added to a playlist as I encounter them, to be properly curated later, is at Spotify, cleverly entitled “2020″ -- 94% women, which is about right. LOL 

But since I do in fact listen to old stuff (by which I mean 2019 LOL), I made a list of mostly 2020 bangers from women rockers with some tasty treats from 2019 that I haven’t been able to let go of just yet, inspired by a post I saw at tumblr saying that punk music by women is just plain better (also beyond debate), called “Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam”. I’ll be posting an essay with a YouTube playlist soon, because god forbid that I only talk briefly about anything LOL and most of these women need to be heard AND seen.

Like Buffy Sainte-Marie, whom you'll both see and hear more often on my blog soon. Thanks for the reminder! Always a pleasure to hear from you and be challenged by you. :-)

Peace, Tim 

[longinglook]

I may or may not have spent my entire Sunday binge watching all of I told sunset about you and Gaya sa pelikula and now I have so many thoughts and feelings that I need to write about them so here we go! Under a read more (if tumblr allows me to) because it’s 2k words hehe

First of all, I knew next to nothing about both shows before starting them. I had seen a couple of gifs here and there, but really had no idea what I was in for.

I started with I told sunset about you, which has 3 episodes out of 5 out. All I knew is that it was going to be beautiful and possibly sad, and it was. Everything about this show is so high quality, from the audio to the dialogue to the locations to the acting, just wow. The production is better than a lot of movies I’ve seen, and every technical aspect is perfect. I am really loving the plot so far as well, I find the childhood friendship to stubborn rivalry to grown up friendship again very relatable. I think it’s a very common experience for a lot of non straight folks to develop an extremely close bond with a same sex friend when you’re too young to realize what you’re actually feeling for them until you’re a lot older and suddely the jealousy and possessivenes all make sense.

I love the recurring themes sprinkled throughout the episodes, starting from the chinese vocabulary that expresses the core thoughts of the two main characters: rival, intimacy, secret, male protagonist, as promised. They could easily be the episode titles, or the names of imaginary sections the show could be divided into. It’s a great way to integrate metaphors and deeper meaning into the plot.

That’s how most of the communication goes in this show, deep emotions are never conveyed through words because words are scary and loud and they can’t be taken back once they’re out there. The plot advances though stares and gestures and touch and gorgeous shots of the landscape. The pace is slow with hour-long episodes that could each be a movie of their own. This worried me a bit before starting, and I have to admit that at times I struggled to stay focused, especially during scenes that set the mood but don’t do much plot-wise. This is just a personal preference, though, and in no way I see it as a flaw. 

The dancing around each other the main characters do, sometimes literal, is frustrating but it determines an emotional build up that’s just starting to reach its peak. This is one of those shows that has me screaming if only they talked to each other, but the silences and unspoken words are so well directed and acted that it works. I struggle a lot with keeping in mind that they’re still in high school, they’re very young and I can’t expect them to act rationally just yet. 

I was really worried about Teh possibly going the insufferable Theory-of-love-khai way, and I am still not 100% sold on him. When he started helping Oh-aew again it felt like he was just doing it to make himself feel better about the whole thing. It was frustrating to see him so possessive and jealous while also so deeply in denial about his own feelings, to the point where he had me rooting for Bas instead. He was getting better, but then he fled at the end of episode 3 and now I have no clue what’s going to happen next. About this, I really have no idea if they’re going for a happy ending or a sad one. I’m really hoping it will be good, because so far there has been barely any emotional payoff for all the repressed longing and misunderstanding the show has put us through.

I do like their dynamic a lot though, I have a weak spot for childhood friends reconnecting and an ever weaker spot for informal mentor/mentee relationships. Oh-aew asking Teh to tutor him until he passes the admission exam was an almost exact mirror of Yuri on ice Yuri begging Victor to be his coach until he retires and I loved that a lot.

Now on to the one issue I have with this show: it feels too much like an art film. It reminds me of Moonlight and Call me by your name, in the way that I wasn’t able to connect with those movies because they are too perfect. They are so beautiful and carefully crafted that I can’t fully immerse myself in them. There’s a filter that stops me from relating to the characters and constantly reminds me that this is not reality. It’s pretty, it’s extremely well done, but it feels like art. It has some quirks, some scenes that feel too artificial. One scene in particular, the one where Teh buries his head in the paper Oh-aew wrote with his coconut scented pen to sniff it, which is a direct parallel to Call me by your name, bothered me in particular. Just as it felt over-the-top and purposefully weird in the movie, so it feels in the show. It’s a way of showcasing how a confused teen deals with attraction he barely understands, it’s raw and animalistic in a way, but it’s so quirky that all it accomplishes is to remind me that I’m watching an lgbt show. It makes me wonder if a scene like this would make sense in a straight relationship because here it seems to highlight how different and primal his attraction is. If I had to pinpoint it, I’d say that I have a problem with media showcasing queerness though peculiar, purposefully awkward scenes like these instead of normal kissing and cuddling.

Overall, I can’t wait to see how this show ends and I still think it’s one of the best bls to air in 2020, if not ever. It’s refreshing to see something with a big budget used well! So far my rating is 8/10, which I know is a lot lower than what everyone else seems to think but it’s still very much subject to change! Just hoping they won’t pull a Make our days count, but I doubt they’ll go there.

And now Gaya sa pelikula. Wow. Again, I knew next to nothing about this show before watching, and I was coming from a 3 hour I told sunset about you binge watch, so the bar was pretty high.

And boy, did this show deliver. I was blown away by the depth and the humor of it. It feels like the writers had fun taking all sorts of common tropes and stereotypes just to show everyone how well they can be evolved and made complex. Two strangers who somehow find themselves sharing an apartment sounds like the start of so many fanfictions out there, but it’s so well executed and interesting that you don’t even stop to think about how weak the premises for their meeting are. It doesn’t matter and it’s not even that far-fetched, either. The sister and the neighbor are also two characters that start off as extra stereotyped, but in just a few scenes they unveil an incredible depth and backstory. It blew me away.

Each character is so realistic. Everything they do and say makes sense, they all have their reasons and their past and they react accordingly, it’s so coherent. It’s impressive how everything takes place inside the house and you barely realize it because things happen and the plot moves anyways, and the way information about external events and people is conveyed is so seamless that you don’t even notice it. In only 7 episodes (so far) they have managed to give everyone a complex background and personality through the use of objects and small details and wow don’t get me started on the music.

The soundtrack is SO GOOD. I never really pay attention to music in shows but it plays a very important role here in my opinion and, well, it’s exactly the kind of music I like listening to and ahhh I just spent 4 hours playing the first kiss song on loop so I might be biased. Right from the start in episode 1, when Karl gives in to Vlad’s music and starts dancing to it, it’s established that it’s an important element to the mood of each scene. I love how the dancing I talked about for I told sunset about you comes back here, but while I saw it as a hesitant dancing around each other there, here it’s the opposite, it’s freeing and it’s about accepting yourself. And the end of episode 6 highlights this, with the beautiful quote “You are entitled to a love that lets you dance without fear and shame.” It made me cry a looooot.

I think the development of their relationship is masterfully done. It doesn’t happen too quickly nor too slowly. Karl goes through some needed shocks that act as his wake up call. When I’m watching bl shows I care the most about them feeling real and relatable. I don’t want to feel like they were written by a straight person trying to guess what it’s like to be gay. Now I didn’t look anything up about the Gaya sa pelikula writers, but I’d be very surprised if they were straight. I can relate to both Karl and Vlad for different aspects of their stories and their worries and thoughts. There was one part in particular that hit so close that I had to take a few breaks because it hurt too much. I am a lesbian, I’ve had relationship with a girl that lasted over a year, I am out to some friends but not all. I never came out to my parents, who are both very open minded and friends with a lot of gay people and would love me just as much if I told them, and yet I can’t. It’s not just that, I am terrified by the idea of them already knowing or being able to guess. When Karl freaked out over his uncle guessing, it hit me so hard because I’ve felt the same way so many times.

Episode 7 was amazing. I hate badly written drama the most, and 99% of shows can’t come up with any good reason for drama but they have to put it in there anyways and it sucks. This was the complete opposite, I adored it and I say this as a lover of fluff. It feels right, I think it’s an issue that would come up between two people like them. They are both right and the only thing that could happen there is what actually went down. I definitely think things will be fixed by the end and I am looking forward to it, but I am very glad this issue was included because it’s so important and so true to many lgbt people’s lives.

Another aspect I absolutely adored are the multiple references to lgbt theory and language, and Vlad has some of the best lines I’ve ever heard coming from a bl. When he tells Karl not to be afraid of the word, when he explains that “you don’t look gay” isn’t a compliment, when he scolds his sister for not acknowledging the things she used to say to him by covering them up with her ally act, those are all such important and educative moments that I hope everyone listens to. I love that Vlad is not correcting some ignorant bad guy, but it’s his accepting and loving friends and family that make the mistakes, because sometimes being supportive your own way isn’t enough if you’re not actively learning from the ones you want to support.

This is a 10/10 for me right now. I can’t find anything I don’t like about it. It never feels boring, it never feels overdone, it never feels cheap or unoriginal. It went straight to the top of my favorite bls.

And now I can’t help but compare the two a bit, because yes they are two different shows but right now the relationships they portray have reached the same point: there has been a climax and now the one who is more confused about his sexuality is panicking and taking a step back. It’s a coincidence that I watched both shows on the same day when their last aired episodes end in such a similar way, but it really leads me to compare the two. I don’t want to put them one against each other or say which one did it better because that’s not the point of this, they are both two amazing and important shows who are excelling in what they’re doing. 

Gaya sa pelikula is down to earth, it’s explicit and it’s straight to the point in explaining what’s going on inside each character’s head. It feels like watching real people deal with real struggles. I told sunset about you is a lot more subtle and quiet, and since we don’t really have a clear insight in the characters’ heads sometimes it’s hard to completely understand what’s going on with them. It’s a completely different way of narrating, and while Gaya sa pelikula makes me feel like I’m a part of the events, I told sunset about you feels like I’m just spectating from an outside perspective. They are different choices, but one of them ends up feeling a lot more emotional to me than the other.

To wrap it up, I highly recommend both shows and I can’t wait to see how they’ll end! They are both among the best shows of the year, both free of all those annoyingly stereotyped characters and plot points that most bls tend to overuse.

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch11)

ships/characters: Goldie, Scrooge, Louie, Dewey, Donald, Webby, Huey, Beakley, Scrooge/Goldie words (ch11): ~4200 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/

[1 & 2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Here’s the final chapter! Thanks for reading :D

Dinner wasn’t a disaster. No, disaster would not be the right word to describe how it went. It was weird. It was...not terrible, but not good. Scrooge’s face was redder than the tomatoes on his plate when the kids were finished asking questions. Goldie had to admit some of their questions had her blushing as well, but at least she knew to just keep sipping her wine instead of trying to answer.

Kids were nosy; they asked a lot of questions. And there were just so many of them. Each one with their own questions. Well, except for Sharpie, who was content in watching the old people sweat. Little sadist.

At least the food was good. But Goldie would never tell Beakley that. Never.

After dinner, most of the family went off to the living room to watch a movie. Scrooge started to complain about the quality of modern movies and how he hadn’t seen one since the 30s, but when Pink and her two little friends specifically asked Goldie to join them, Scrooge got a bit twitchy and followed everyone to the couch. He was a paranoid old man, that much was true. How was she supposed to steal while stuck on the couch surrounded by the whole family?

She was embarrassed when the girls all sat around her on the couch - she sort of anticipated sitting with Scrooge, but was ambushed by them and suddenly there were rugrats no matter where she looked. The De Spell kid seemed to have a protective arm around Pink and the hummingbird was sitting on the couch’s armrest and taking notes. About what, Goldie had no idea.

Sharpie sat on the floor with his brothers, but he was next to her feet and she felt a weird sort of instinct to pick him up and put him on her lap. Like hell that was going to happen - she shook it off almost as quickly as the urge appeared and tried to get comfortable so they could watch whatever the hell kid-friendly baby movie they’d picked out.

(Oddly enough, they picked a movie she and Scrooge had both seen before. Since when do kids like black and white movies?)

About twenty minutes in, she managed to sneak away from the group. Said she had to use the bathroom, but really she just needed a break from being surrounded by so many people.

Scrooge had watched her carefully as she walked away - she was sure he knew she wasn’t headed towards a bathroom and probably had Duckworth following her. To make sure no one was on her tail, she stepped into a water closet and shut the door for a minute, hoping to remove any suspicion. Then she snuck back out and quietly creeped towards the entrance to the Other Bin.

Tempting, but she had other things in mind.

Back in the Klondike Room, Goldie’s spine tingled at the chilly temperature and she quietly closed the door behind her. In less than a second, she launched herself across the bed to reach underneath and grab the lock box from earlier.

A quick flick and turn of a bobby pin from her hair and it was open without a hitch. She didn’t understand why Scrooge bothered with locks when she was the only one who was going after the treasure - they didn’t even slow her down.

She slowly lifted up the lid in anticipation, eyes glowing from the gold of the familiar nugget.

Three folded up pieces of paper and the gold nugget. The nugget distracted her - she scooped it up and just felt the weight of it in her hand. A moment later and she opened up the papers - deed, another deed, and a lock of her hair. It was still tied up in the same little ribbon it’d been tied up in over a hundred years prior, and though she still thought it was kind of weird that he kept it, a warmth spread throughout her chest. Especially knowing that just earlier that day, he was staring at it and thinking of her. How long had he been sitting there? She blushed the tiniest bit just thinking about him...thinking about her.

She frowned and looked at everything laid out on the bed. These were all things she already knew about; nothing new, nothing scandalous. Nothing for Scrooge to get all secretive about. Goldie grabbed the lock box and attempted to push and prod at every corner and angle in case Scrooge had added a secret compartment, but no. It was just the same old box as she remembered.

So Goldie put everything back in and shoved the box where it was before. She considered going back to the movie for a minute, but then remembered one other thing she wanted to check out.

As she made her way towards the stairs, Scrooge was just exiting the living room, clearly looking for her. He gave her a cross look and raised an eyebrow.

“What’re you doin’, O’Gilt?”

She smiled and walked closer to him, getting right up in his face. “No need to be suspicious, Scroogey, I was just admiring your decor on my way back.”

“Oh, sure,” he said with a scoff. “And I’m sure you didnae take anythin’ while you were alone.”

Goldie chuckled and grabbed his hands, dramatically shoving them into her pockets. “Check for yourself, Rich Boy.”

His face was red and he grumbled something about her being inappropriate, but he did shuffle through her pockets and even moved his hands to her back pockets as well - earning a completely predictable retort of, “Who’s the one being inappropriate now?”

Scrooge removed his hands and held his ground - no way was he going to apologize when they both knew his suspicions were justified. “Look, Goldie, if you don’t want to watch the movie, we could go somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine,” Goldie said with a shrug, trying to think of how to get Scrooge out of her way so she could get back on her little treasure hunt. A moment later, she came up with an idea so bright she could practically see that weird little walking lightbulb again. “Though, since you mention it, there’s one place I’d love to go.”

“Oh? Where’s that?”

“Goldieburg.”

He froze, cheeks turning bright red. “I-...you-....what?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” she said with an obnoxiously innocent act. “I was in your office earlier when the oldest man I’ve ever spoken to rang. He was so upset that his ungrateful son hadn’t called his mommy.”

Scrooge’s face could not have been redder. “You-...you talked to my...parents?”

“For a minute.” She felt a malicious smile grace her face at Scrooge’s embarrassment. Good thing her parents were long gone. “They were very excited to hear from their little boy’s wee burd.”

If at all possible, Scrooge blushed harder, and he finally shook it off and shoved Goldie to the side to head up the stairs. “As soon as I’m done with this, I’m gettin’ rid of that phone!”

He didn’t even pay attention to Goldie as he ascended the stairs, heading in the opposite direction of where she needed to go. She smirked and waited another minute before continuing her path from earlier.

She flew up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible, not wanting Scrooge to hear her and not knowing if Duckworth was still around to stop her. She had to admit, it was likely that whatever the ghost didn’t want her to see earlier in the day had absolutely nothing to do with Scrooge’s little anniversary gift, but she needed to check for herself. How could she have gotten as far as she had in life if she just trusted everything Scrooge McDuck said?

His bedroom door was slightly ajar, and she suspiciously looked around the room as she entered. No one was there, but Duckworth could appear at any time, so she needed to stay alert.

She kept her back to the wall and slid over towards the desk. There were a lot of drawers to unlock and she had no way of knowing which one contained whatever was being hidden from her. Or maybe it was multiple.

Either way, she sat down in his big chair, grabbed the same bobby pin from earlier, and went to work.

The first drawer she opened - top-left, of course - was just miscellaneous odds and ends. Stapler, pens, paperclips. Office supplies. Goldie dug around just in case, but it seemed to be a perfectly boring drawer. The fact that Scrooge had it locked was baffling to her - was he worried the kids would do an art project?

She shook her head and moved down to bottom-left. The lock was a little bit different, which probably meant each drawer had its own key. What kind of madman was he? At her own office she only had one locked drawer and she barely used it. Any smart swindler knew the safest place to keep something was on your person.

Scrooge knew that about his half of the Golden Lagoon map, but she supposed he didn't have enough pockets for all of his nonsense.

That drawer was filled with papers. A hodgepodge of papers - different sizes, colors, and importance. She was shocked at the lack of organization when she saw what was clearly one of Donald's drawings he did as a child next to the purchasing paperwork for some apartment complex in downtown Duckburg. Did he even know where this was?

She dug through again, but already knew she'd be coming up with squat.

Bottom-right, then.

It wasn't like she expected to find an ancient box of chocolates in the desk - or even a new box of chocolates, for that matter. She just felt like chocolate wasn't enough. Scrooge was acting too nervous and too ridiculous, she knew there had to be something else for her.

Inside the bottom-right drawer were some three-ring binders. She grabbed one and looked at the cover only to see it said FAMILY PHOTOS (2000-2020). She sighed and grabbed another one. Similar title, different set of dates.

Curious, Goldie flipped one open and skimmed through the pages. Donald and Della looked so different back when they were kids, but...somehow they looked exactly the same. She flipped through a couple more pages and was about to put the book down when she saw a familiar flash of blonde.

Her eyes darted to that photo and the photos around it. She did not expect to have an appearance in Scrooge's little family albums.

One of the photos with her in it was particularly nice, she had to admit. She and Scrooge were sitting next to each other on a large swing under an even larger tree. She didn't remember that day very well, but she remembered leaving after a few hours when she realized she was having a too nice of a time.

Goldie snatched that photo out of the album and stuffed it in her pocket before putting the binders back. She doubted some old photos were what Scrooge was hiding from her, but if she didn't find anything else, then she'd come back to it and skim through some more.

Top-right time. Assuming there weren't any secret drawers or false bottoms, she only had this and the middle drawer left. But the middle drawer was too small and thin to contain anything of note.

She felt her heart racing as she finished unlocking top-right, fully prepared to finally find whatever it was Scrooge didn't want her to see. She tugged it open and…

Keys?

Goldie frowned and stuck her hand in, shuffling around and checking for signs of hidden compartments. But her hand hit what was clearly the real bottom, and this drawer seemed to just be filled with keys. So, so many keys.

She frowned deeper as she realized the reason Duckworth chased her away was probably just because of this. Perhaps there was no special treasure Scrooge was hiding from her and this was just about preventing even more theft than she'd already stolen.

Goldie sighed and looked at the last drawer. She had a feeling it would just be push pins and packs of sticky notes for Old Mr. McBusiness, but she pried it open anyway.

For the most part, she was right. Office supplies again, and to her surprise there was even a backup pair of spectacles. She never considered Scrooge as someone to own backups of anything.

Next to the office supplies, there was a simple white envelope. With the label down, Goldie almost ignored it. But there was clearly an age to the paper - it was yellowish and looked fairly damaged from water and other elements.

Hesitantly, Goldie grabbed the envelope and flipped it around.

Her name was printed right on the front, in Scrooge's familiar handwriting. She felt her heart stop and she reached out her free hand to touch the ink, which dissolved under her touch, really showing its age.

She could feel how sensitive the paper of the envelope was and knew this would have to be a careful operation. Whether or not she wanted Scrooge to know she'd seen this had yet to be decided.

Slowly, Goldie opened up the envelope and tugged out the letter that was inside. She was embarrassed to admit to herself that she felt nervous. She had absolutely no idea what could be in this letter. It really all depended on when he wrote it.

Obviously it was after their first encounter, and based on the age, she figured it was probably before they went to Uluru. But that didn't give her much of a clue - they went on a lot of adventures together during those decades.

With a deep breath, Goldie opened the letter and started to read.

In less than two sentences, her eyes were sparkling and a bit watery, though she quickly wiped that away. This was definitely what he'd been keeping from her. What Duckworth didn't want her to see. What Scrooge definitely, absolutely, positively did not want her to read.

She cursed their younger selves for just a moment and considered how things could've been different had she seen this letter back then.

A moment later and Goldie was startled by a noise behind her. She turned her head in anticipation of an angry ghost, but instead there was Scrooge, standing in front of the door and smiling sadly at her.

She blushed. "I guess you caught me, huh?"

Scrooge hobbled over and breathed out a short laugh. “I’m just happy you’re still here. When the kids said you never came back, I figured you left.”

“Well...that’s understandable,” she said, turning back around and shoving the letter back in its envelope. She wasn’t sure if he saw her holding it and she wasn’t sure what to say to him about it.

“Duckworth mentioned you’d been trying to get into my desk earlier,” Scrooge said with a nonchalant shrug. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Goldie didn’t turn to him just yet, staring down at the envelope in her hands. She wanted to bring it up, but she didn’t know where that conversation would lead other than...places she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. It was from so long ago.

“Goldie?”

With a deep breath, she spun the chair and made sure Scrooge could clearly see what was in her hands.

He didn’t even flinch, though there was a light color on his cheeks that paired well with his smile. “Did you read it?”

Goldie played with the envelope, still staring down at it. “I did.”

“Ah.” Scrooge tapped against his cane. He took a few steps closer to her, but didn’t cross the room quite yet.

“Was this supposed to come with the chocolates?”

Scrooge chuckled and took off his hat, holding it to his chest and rubbing his thumb on the rim. “It was.”

Goldie stood up and closed the distance between them, stopping just in front of the top of his hat. “You said you lost them in an ice storm.”

“I did,” Scrooge said quickly. “But I got them back a few decades ago.”

“And you didn’t show me.”

“What would that have accomplished? I knew it was too late the next time I saw you.” Scrooge huffed and stared down at the envelope in her hands. “You were well out of Dawson already.”

“That’s true. I haven’t really settled in one place since then.” Goldie sighed again and tossed the envelope onto his bed. “But...I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

“Maybe...maybe I would’ve said yes,” she finished her thought and finally looked up to lock eyes with him again, a deep blush on her cheeks.

Scrooge’s eyes sparkled and he sighed dreamily before freezing completely and then looking down at his hat. He glanced up at her and then down at the hat again.

“What’s wrong?”

He cleared his throat and avoided her gaze once again. “The chocolates may not have been the only thing I bought for you that day.”

She blinked a few times in shock at his confession. “Okay…”

“There was, um. One other thing.”

Her mind was reeling over the possibilities, though based on the content of the letter and his embarrassment throughout the day...one particular thought shone brightest. But the Scrooge of today wasn’t the same as the King of the Klondike. He wasn’t just frugal back then, he wouldn’t buy anything unless it was an absolute necessity. He wouldn’t buy...well. She hadn’t even thought he would buy chocolates for a pretty girl. Maybe he was full of surprises.

Scrooge tossed his cane to the side and stuck his hand into his top hat and shuffled around for a moment before stopping and then slowly pulling his arm back out. He tossed the hat towards his fallen cane and loudly exhaled before reaching down and grabbing Goldie’s left hand.

“What are you…-”

“Goldie, we’ve known each other a long time,” Scrooge started, hoping to whatever-was-out-there that she wouldn’t interrupt him. “And like you’ve said many times before, we’ve made countless mistakes.”

He took another deep breath. “When we were young again and you said you wanted to try startin’ over, changin’ things, fixin’ what we did wrong...there was one particular moment that came to mind. When I lost my sled with the letter and the chocolates, I still could’ve gone to Dawson. I could’ve just come with the shirt on my back and said my piece.

“But I felt like I couldn’t. That'd been one of the luckiest years of my life until I tried to get back to you and I thought that meant you were just bad luck. Losin’ that sled was a sign that I had to get back to work instead of going back to you.”

Goldie stayed silent - though she had a million comments to make, she could see from the look on his face that this wasn’t the time to make them.

“What I wanted to do back then, er…” Scrooge hesitated and looked down at his hand holding hers. “What I wanted to ask back then…”

He looked up and they locked eyes, both red in the face and sparkling. Scrooge opened his free hand to reveal a small, simple ring in his palm.

Goldie stared at the ring like it was something foreign. She knew what it meant, she knew exactly what he was saying and what he almost said to her so long ago. She picked it up and inspected it carefully, noting the simplicity and lack of any gems - there were no diamonds or rubies or pearls. It was engraved with a gorgeous Celtic carving, but was otherwise just a gold band.

She looked back at him, who was staring expectantly and starting to look nervous. She smiled sadly and curled her fingers around the ring, pressing it into her palm.

“Scrooge...you know I...I don’t -” Goldie felt herself hesitate. She wanted to just say yes and throw her arms around him, but it just didn’t feel right. Not with her. She wasn't ready...maybe she wouldn't ever be ready. The ring felt like it was burning through her skin - it wasn't painful, but there was an ache in her chest while she looked down at it. “You know this kind of thing just isn't me."

“I know, Dear,” Scrooge said softly, the expression on his face unchanging. “I’m not askin’ you to marry me, but...that ring was only ever meant for you. I want you to have it.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes and quickly wiped them away, not wanting him to see. “I can’t believe you actually bought this.”

“It’s made from some of the gold you dug up while workin’ my claim.”

Goldie stared up at him in surprise, then back down at the ring, which suddenly felt lighter. Had she ever wanted to kiss him as much as she did in that moment? Her head started to feel funny - like she was laying on a cloud. She locked eyes with him again.

“I love you.”

Scrooge was breathless for only a moment, then simply smiled back at her - reveling in the moment and hoping it’d never end.

Goldie slid the ring onto her finger before she could stop herself. The burning sensation had stopped, and the dull ache from earlier was replaced by her heart pounding wildly as she stared at her hand. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. I never knew you had such good taste."

Scrooge grabbed her hand again and stared at the ring on her finger, rubbing his thumb on it and chuckling after a few seconds.

“What’s so funny?” Goldie asked, leaning her face closer to his.

“It took me a century to get a ring on your finger, Goldie Girl,” he answered softly, leaning in. “I never realized it’d feel this good.”

She pressed her beak against his and moved her free hand to the back of his head. “I can think of something that would feel even better…”

Scrooge kissed her back for a moment, but pulled away and laughed awkwardly, squeezing her hand lightly. “I know I’m gonna regret this, but...would you come back down with me? Finish the movie...spend a little more time with my family before bed?”

Goldie hummed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve asked so much of me today and I’ve been surprisingly accommodating.”

“You have.”

“And yet still you ask for more.”

He just smiled at her again - a familiar look of admiration that both frustrated her and made her cheeks light up.

Her hand moved around his head and she slid her pointer finger under his beak, stopping at the tip. “...alright.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.” She pecked his beak one more time. “But I’m sitting on your lap for the rest of the movie. I wanna see how much PDA Beakley can take before she snaps.”

Scrooge smiled and his eyes sparkled again, squeezing her hand tighter and desperately enjoying the feeling of metal between their fingers. “You’re a devil of a woman.”

Goldie rushed out of the bedroom - Scrooge being dragged along by their connected hands, and she tried to deny the feeling of joy when she spotted some of the kids waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

“I told you she was still here,” Sharpie said, taking a sip of his Pep and walking back to the living room.

Dewey let out a WHOOP! and pumped his fist in the air before following his brother while Donald, Huey, and Webby stood there and waited for the two lovebirds to reach the ground floor.

“Are you good…?” Donald asked Scrooge, clearly nervous as to what the answer might be. Yes or no could be equally disastrous.

Scrooge gave him a good slap on the shoulder. “Never better, Nephew! Let’s head back before the film ends!”

He, Goldie, and Donald made their way back towards the living room, but Webby and Huey trailed from behind and stared. Specifically, Webby stared directly at the old couple's locked hands, which felt...different. She couldn’t contain the feeling that something was being purposefully hidden from them.

She looked at Huey, who followed her line of sight with a raised eyebrow. He leaned to the side and angled his view to get a better look. Webby followed suit.

Only a second later did they both catch a glimpse of gold and they simultaneously gasped, covering their respective beaks to avoid screaming.

The three adults turned to them in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Scrooge asked.

The kid’s eyes darted between Scrooge and his hand and then to each other, where they came to a silent conclusion.

“N-Nothing! It’s nothing!” Webby finally squeaked out, Huey nodding excessively next to her.

Though a little confused, the adults seemed satisfied with that and continued walking to the living room. Webby and Huey locked eyes again and once the others were out of the foyer, Webby started tapping her feet and Huey flapped his arms in excitement.

“What does this mean?!” Webby whispered as loudly as possible.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Huey squeezed his fists and held them close to his chest. “I’ve always wanted to plan a wedding!”

They clasped their hands together and danced around for a few seconds before Beakley popped her head into the foyer and stared at them.

“Are you two coming? It’s ending soon.”

Webby spun around and did some cartwheels towards her grandmother while Huey walked normally behind her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Huey sighed dreamily, leaning his cheek against his locked hands. “I’m just glad there’s a happy ending!”

Beakley stared curiously at the two children and shrugged. She didn't realize they'd seen the movie before.

[xyzcekaden]

🚍 unsuspecting sunday afternoon 🚍

by me, xyzcekaden! a pokemon fanfic about when the one you hate to love is made for you

How capable is the human heart now?

fandom: pokemon, gen 3, advanced generation characters: ash, may, steven stone in a “supporting” role ship: advanceshipping genre: romance, angst themes: friendship, pre-relationship, slowburn, 6+1 if you squint setting: modern, hoenn, pokemon universe lite word count: 4.6k rating: T

read it below, on ffnet, or on ao3!

A/N (9.7.201): So this has been in my drafts since about April 2020 😅 Sure, I'm happy to finally share something new with the small yet strong advanceshipping fandom; but more than that, I'm relieved this document can no longer taunt me with its incompletion, hahaha. Do let me know what you think! Especially with this opening formatting; I'm trying something new. :)

Nothing sensitive in the fic, but the characters are all adults so it felt fitting to rate it T. Title taken from the song of the same name by the Backstreet Boys, and its lyrics/sentiments are interwoven throughout. The narrative is inspired and framed by monstaxnight's anonymous ask. If you recognise it, it doesn't belong to me. Thanks for reading!

~~~

fall for someone whose body would start fires

On a Saturday, May asked Ash to come over the next day. “I need a second opinion on something,” she had said. “It’ll be super quick.”

Of course, ‘super quick’ means Ash has enough time to set his switch up on May’s gigantic living room tv and play a few rounds of his favourite fighting video game while she gets ready for something or another in her room. He always acts like he has better things to do than help her with her sundry weekly ventures, but they both know he’d rather do ‘nothing’ with her than ‘something’ on his own somewhere else.

“Okay, Ash, are you ready?” May’s voice rings out. “Yeah,” he answers distractedly, strategically button smashing.

“So I kept the jeans from this last outfit, but this top I just got two weekends ago and haven’t had a chance to wear yet,” May narrates as she exits her room. “I had the, frankly, brilliant idea of using the jacket from Outfit 1 and pairing it with those heels you paid for for my birthday, et voila!”

The clacking of heels stops at the entrance of the hallway. “What do you think?’

Ash redirects his attention to May. His avatar dies on screen, just like his voice dies in his throat.

“You, um, you look great.”

In actuality, May looks smoking hot, but that’s not new for either of them. His best friend is supremely attractive, and he knew it and had no problem acknowledging it normally. This time, however, May doesn’t just look physically great, she also looks like she feels like she looks great. He doesn’t know how much sense that makes; but there is decidedly something different, and Ash feels a strange sense of dread in his chest.

May beams, taking the inarticulate response in stride. “Well that’s a winning endorsement if I ever heard one! Now let’s just hope Steven has as great of a reaction.” She turns to one of the many full-length mirrors stationed around her condo and reviews the outfit with a critical eye.

This brings Ash out from his stupor. “‘Steven’?” he repeats as he sits up on the couch. “You’re going on a date?”

“It’s not a date,” May replies in a tone that clearly conveys that she would not be opposed to it turning into a date. “My dad is having dinner with an old business partner, and the guy’s bringing his son along, so me and Max were invited, too. We were kinda friends back when we were young, but it’s not like we’ve kept in touch or anything. I just figured I should make a good second first-impression… You know, for my dad’s sake.”

Ash can tell the last bit was just something she’s telling herself to rationalise why she’s trying so hard, and it doesn’t sit right with him. He slinks back down on the couch dejectedly and halfheartedly starts a new game.

He finds himself wondering how often they hung out and how much whatever-that-number-was-teenth impressions were worth. He hopes it’s a lot.

~~~

fall for someone who always runs from his kiss

“… And I was right! They were roommates!” May boisterously ends her story, almost losing her ice cream to physics as she wildly gesticulates.

They’re just strolling around the park that’s honestly nowhere near either of their apartments; but over the years, it became their park anyway. They didn’t even set plans to hang out today, but it kinda just happened―a recurring theme in their friendship, admittedly.

For his part, Ash hides a smirk with a lick to his own ice cream, not bothering to say or do anything to protect her treat. If she hasn’t learned by now, she never would. “Oh my god, they were roommates,” he deadpans instead.

May sends him an unimpressed smirk and lightly smacks Ash’s shoulder. He yelps. She yanks her hand back as soon as she realises, but the damage is done.

He blinks down at the cold, vanilla, rainbow-sprinkled stain before raising his gaze to meet May’s equally stunned one.

They stare in silence for a moment, then May cracks a conciliatory grin. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry?”

He shrugs it off easily. “I probably deserved it,” he says, making peace with the knowledge that his previous unwillingness to protect her ice cream from any accidents is the undoubted origin for his current poor luck. He nods toward the path. “Shall we?”

“We passed by a restroom a little bit ago. We can clean you up,” May disagrees, tugging on his arm in the opposite direction.

“‘S fine,” he argues as he tries to continue walking forward.

“Ash, it’ll stain!” She tugs harder.

“It’ll be an improvement!” He’s overpowering her, but not as easily as he’d like.

“Why are you being such a butthead about this!?” She’s pulling with all her strength now, this being a matter of pride to her at this point.

“Come on, May!” Ash heaves one last time.

They tumble head over feet onto the ground, but that’s not the reason Ash feels like his world has turned upside down.

May’s body weighs comfortably on his, his hands naturally settle on her waist with hers on his chest, and his brown eyes bore into her blues. Their ice cream has fallen… somewhere, but Ash doesn’t concern himself with that considering this is the closest they’ve been since they first met.

They’ve been toeing this line since then, too.

I’m gonna do it, he thinks to himself.

He closes his eyes.

He leans in.

May scrambles away.

Ash sits up and blinks at the sight of May’s confused, furious eyes. “Ash, what are you doing?” Her voice croaks like her throat is dry. It makes him clear his own before dumbly responding, “I was trying to kiss you.”

“Why??” she asks, her voice strangled. He pushes himself off the ground warily as he watches her hold herself, bite her lip, shake her head in a panic; and somehow in all of that, he understands.

“I thought it wasn’t a date.” Ash tries so hard not to sound accusatory, but her wince in response proves it didn’t work. It also proves his fear correct.

He turns, hiding as if the people walking by could discern his transgression and shame by the sight of his face alone. Besides, his mind can conjure up an image of her running away just fine on its own.

Ash notices the remnants of their impromptu outing splattered on the ground near his feet. He picks up what he can and stomps over to the nearest trash bin, throwing it in as hard as he can to let out some of his frustration.

He hopes he hasn’t gone and screwed everything up.

~~~

fall for someone whose lips belong to someone else

They don’t talk about it, and then it’s too late.

“Ash, this is Steven,” she tells him softly, as if it could make up for how it feels like the sight of her arms wrapped around the guy’s torso and his arm casually thrown over her shoulder assaults him every time he blinks.

“Steven Stone. It’s great to finally meet you. May speaks of you highly,” Steven introduces with a dignified air. Not pompous, no; he is just someone who was raised being told that he was going to do important things and who happened to believe it.

They shake hands, and Ash’s fingers feel cold, a marked contrast to how there’s something in his chest that’s burning.

Inside the restaurant, the waitress asks if a table is okay, and no one asks for a booth instead. In his seat, Ash is neither directly in between nor directly across from the newly-established couple, and he wonders if this is where all his luck went into.

Lunch goes better than expected.

Ash was prepared to hate the guy, but what is there to hate? Steven has a decent sense of humour, loves pokemon but loves rocks even more, and is COO of the biggest enterprise in Hoenn. He is a safe, sensible choice. This guy isn’t going to break May’s heart.

As the meal winds down, Steven offers to pay for everyone; but Ash still has his pride. In the end, he manages to negotiate paying for just his own plate and drink, knowing he has no right to battle for the privilege of paying for May’s.

He wouldn’t even do so on a typical occasion anyway; but as far as Ash is concerned, Steven’s presence throws all of the friends’ typical rules of engagement out the window.

They say goodbye and part ways in front of the restaurant.

A few steps later, Ash snaps his fingers as he recalls something. He turns around to remind May of their movie plans in a few days, and he is met with the sight of the couple sharing a sweet kiss on the corner while waiting for the light to change.

Steven could never break May’s heart, but he sure can break Ash’s.

Ash turns back and continues walking. He hopes May can remember on her own.

~~~

fall for someone whose touch is way too much

May insists that nothing has changed between them, but clearly something has because Ash doesn’t remember ever being so anxious about her proximity before.

He had always been aware of her, though. Always. When your first meeting is saving the other from getting run over by a tour bus, you quickly develop the habit of keeping track of where the person is at all times.

Between his athleticism and her natural proclivity towards tactileness, casual physical exchanges quickly became their norm: hugs and high fives, friendly elbows in the rib after a good joke and sharing a blanket as they watch a movie, (lingering touches on the shoulder and holding hands even after they’ve escaped a crowd… or did he make those up?).

They were controlled yet unmistakably affectionate markers of their relationship.

But now?

When she shifts one centimetre closer to him in line at the mall food court, he accidentally overpays by fifty pokeyen out of distraction. When she grabs his fork out of his hand to try a piece of his takoyaki, he jerks so hard at the contact that he spills his soft drink all over the table. When she pats him dry using flimsy food court napkins with a joke about ice cream in her voice and fondness in her eyes, he needs to claim a rapid-onset fever in order to give himself an excuse to cut their lunch short immediately.

These innocent touches have been an ever-present facet of their friendship since basically the beginning; and even when he realised he was in love, they hadn’t affected him like this.

Things are different now, despite what she says.

Well, maybe not things; maybe just him.

He had allowed himself to revel in their familiar touches when she was single because he could, because there was no one else that she was supposed to be able to make feel like this. Even if the feeling wasn’t meant for him, it wasn’t meant for anyone else either.

But now.

He can’t, in good conscience, allow his heart to rush and his smile to form and his hand to squeeze back. It wouldn’t be fair to May, not when she’s trusting him with her friendship and he’s taking more from her than that.

Even though he’d like nothing else than to keep that closeness, to go back to how it was between them before, this is the way it has to be now. He just hopes she can understand.

~~~

fall for someone he doesn’t want to feel for

On sleepless nights, he wonders when.

He knows the who, what, why, and how; but the when eludes him.

...

They were both breathing heavy, attention focused on the spot of the road where the girl would have flattened like a pancake if it weren’t for his quick reflexes and hero complex.

The clapping of a few passers-by snapped them out of their shock and into the realisation that he still had her protectively cradled to his chest.

They quickly broke apart, and he took the time to wave off the praise from the gathered crowd while she checked her purse to see if everything was inside.

“You got everything?” he asked after people’s attentions finally turned back towards their own lives.

“Yeah, I do,” the girl replied, and her voice was rather cheery considering the ordeal she just survived. (He would later learn that was her default.)

“Great,” he said, genuine yet awkward.

They continued staring at each other. The adrenaline from their brush with danger hadn’t worn off yet; his heart was still beating very fast.

“So, um, have a good day,” he bade after it was clear neither of them had anything more to say. He made to return to his errands, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“You saved my life, and you’re just gonna walk away?” she asked incredulously.

He blinked at her. “I’ll be honest; I wasn’t aware there was an after-action protocol for this sort of situation.”

She was incredulous for only a second before she giggled at him. “The least I can do is buy you lunch to say ‘thank you.’”

“Well, I’ve never turned down a free meal,” he accepts with a grin.

She giggled again then stuck out her hand. “My name’s May.”

“Ash.”

...

No, it wasn’t then. Nor was it during the meal they shared, nor at the bar where they happened to see each other that weekend, nor while they were escaping from the bar fight that she accidentally instigated that night.

...

“Is this going to become a running gag? Will I have to constantly be saving you from trouble you unintentionally get yourself into?” Ash panted after he directed her to duck into a nearby alley.

“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, this automatically makes me the most interesting friend you’ve got,” May countered.

He took one extra second to check no one was following them then cut a glance at her. “I don’t know about you, but most of my friends have my number.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Smooth.” They switched phones and exchanged numbers.

“Better memorize that by heart,” he jested as he handed her her phone back. “Don’t wanna waste your one phone call at the station just because you mixed up the last two digits by accident.”

“If the next time you hear from me is because I went and got myself arrested, just leave me to rot. I must have earned it,” she smirked.

...

Luckily, the next time one of them reached out to the other wasn’t to bail the former out of jail. May invited him to a pool party for her birthday, where he handily won a water balloon fight and impressed everyone by fixing the grill for their barbeque. Their friendship continued to progress naturally: movie nights that turned into impromptu sleepovers, brunches that turned into walks around town. Several shopping trips and video games and hikes later, they were each other’s best friends. It was basically inevitable.

So when? When would he have had the chance to fall in love with her?

...

“Hello?”

“Ash, you picked up!” she sounded surprised―happy, but surprised―and he winced. He knew he’d been blowing her off a little more often lately, but making her think he’d turn down her phone call?

“Heh, yeah, sorry about that,” he said, betting on the hope that she somehow implicitly understood everything he was apologising for. “Is everything okay?”

For an extended second, she was quiet, then she said, “I need to tell you something.”

His hackles rose, and he started grabbing his keys and putting on his shoes. Maybe she finally ended up in jail. “Where are you? I can be there in ten minutes, maybe twenty with traffic―”

She giggled, and he paused. That was her nervous giggle. “May?” he asked, still wary but not about to race out of his house with only his boxers on.

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… Steven told me he loves me.”

His breath left his lungs.

“And I told him I love him back,” she continued.

All the adrenaline that had surged through his body only moments before completely left him at her words, and his limbs locked up instead. He felt cold.

“Hello?”

He didn’t even realise he had sunk to his knees until he meant to take a step back towards the couch. He just slumped onto his butt. “That’s―” He had to clear his throat. “That’s gotta be recent.”

He could slap himself. He sounded as dead as he felt. He tried again: “I mean, that’s great news, May! He’s a lucky guy. Yeah.”

She sighed with relief. Could Steven tell what her sighs meant over the phone? ”I’m the lucky one, I think,” she said happily, and that was his last straw.

“Heh, yeah, well,” he sputtered out, just to have something to say. “Listen, since you’re not in danger or anything, uh, you actually caught me at a bad time, so I gotta go. I’ll catch you later, yeah?”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

“Wait, Ash! Before you go!”

He held back a sigh. “What’s up, May?”

“It’s just… You’re right; it is recent. You’re actually the first person I told.”

“I’m honoured.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm that spilled out, but he backtracked quickly. “I mean it. Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course, Ash; I tell you everything. At this point, it’s like I have to; nothing would ever feel real otherwise.”

He shut his eyes. He really couldn’t take this anymore. “I know what you mean. Same here.”

She made a cute sound, a quiet little ‘hmm,’ and that was when the first tear spilled out. “Alright, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll text you later!!” she promised.

“Later,” he repeated, both an echo and a goodbye; and finally, blissfully, he ended the call.

...

When, when, when?!

That was supposed to be one of the sweetest moments of her young adult life, and she called on him―trusted him, even―to be happy for her. When did he get to the point where he couldn’t even do that? Instead, he recalls it now as he struggles to fall asleep, playing the memory at half-speed over and over again in his imagination, and all he does is hope.

He desperately hopes it’ll stop hurting so much.

~~~

fall for someone with the sweetest rebel heart

When he finds out he didn’t get the promotion he was vying for at work, there’s no one else’s comfort he sought but May’s.

“I’m sorry that happened, Ash,” May soothes as she rubs rhythmic circles into Ash’s back. They’re in her condo, noticeably nicer maintained than Ash’s flat, side by side on the sofa. It is the first time he’s let her touch him in weeks, and he really needs it. “At least now they know you’re interested? It might be your turn next time.”

Ash snorts but nods anyway. He’s usually the type to look at the bright side, but it would be an understatement to say that he is simply disappointed. After all the L’s he’s been taking in his personal life, he had been hoping at least something would go his way professionally.

May continues, “Just make sure not to let this setback actually set you back. Keep putting your best foot forward, and I know you’ll win those guys over… just like you did with me!” She ends with a wink, trying her hardest to inject some levity into the situation.

Just like that, Ash’s mood sours even more. “You can’t say that to me, May,” he angrily replies as he shuffles out of her hold.

“What are you talking about?” she pouts as she feebly tries to get him to lay back against the couch so that the cold air can’t get under the blanket they are sharing.

“I didn’t ‘win you over,’ clearly.” He shrugs off her touch and scoots away. He has spent so long trying to keep his bitterness inside, but he doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to regulate himself right now. He’s tired of trying to get over things that make him upset.

May frowns, the furrow between her brow getting deeper as she sits up straight on the sofa. “Ash, why are you talking like that? I meant, like, how we became friends, obviously. I didn’t grow to love you by accident.”

Ash stands then, balling the blanket up and throwing it back on the couch. “I bet Steven wouldn’t be too happy to hear you say that.”

She follows suit, her voice elevating in volume as if to match. “I bet Steven wouldn’t appreciate being judged by someone who’s only met him once―despite my efforts otherwise, might I add.”

“I bet Steven would love to hear his girlfriend say she loves another guy.”

“I bet Steven isn’t dumb enough to think I can’t love you both.”

“You don’t love me, May!” Ash finally explodes.

He has never raised his voice like this, not to her, but he’s tired. He’s tired of loving someone he can’t have, he’s tired of hating himself for it, and he’s tired of the guilt when he takes it out on her despite all his attempts not to.

She looks like she’s torn between yelling right back or kicking him out; and before she could make up her mind, he collects himself enough so he could bring his voice down. He states simply, “Not the way you love Steven.” Not the way I love you.

He doesn’t say it, but he can tell she hears it anyway. He clears his throat and turns around, trying to hide without running away. “Hearts don’t work like that,” he murmurs into the room.

He makes to leave, but May’s hand on his shoulder stops him. She forcibly turns him back to face her, and Ash is shocked at the determined set to her face. Her eyes, bluer than a water stone and twice as powerful, hold him as captive as they always have. “You listen to me, Ash Ketchum.” Her tone brokers no argument. “If you thought for a second that I stopped loving you because I fell in love with Steven, you clearly underestimated what my heart is capable of.”

Her grip on him tightens, as if making sure he is still with her in the moment. “It’s big enough for the both of you; and if that’s not the way hearts are supposed to work, then I’ll just be the exception that proves the rule.”

She pulls him into a hug then, like locking that promise between them, and he dares let himself hope she means that.

~~~

fall for someone whose heart needs sewing up

Ash wasn’t expecting a knock on his door this late at night, and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see a beautifully made up May Maple standing in the hallway, mascara-tinged tears and runny nose notwithstanding.

"Steven is moving to Alola to support Devon Corp’s expansion," is all she said, but even that much is hard to make out through her watery voice.

The news sinks in, and Ash’s heart feels like someone moved it three centimetres to the left: still there, still functional, but not at all where he needs it to be.

"You’ve always talked about going to Alola," is the only way he could respond, thinking of all the times they’ve imagined taking a week off and vacationing in the tropical region. He won’t, can’t let himself think about anything else or else he’d break down.

In his heartbreak, he cannot recognise May's tears, which are too raw and too loud to be that of someone bearing regrettable news. These are the tears of a confused, broken heart.

"Ash, I'm not going," she sniffles, still stiffly standing outside his door. "He asked me not to."

Finally understanding that he misunderstood, Ash is even more disoriented than he was before. "Why would he do that?" he asks, obviously still trying to wrap his mind around what the hell was happening.

"I don’t know!" May yells while clenching her fists and stomping a high-heeled foot. It is the most movement she's made since he opened the door. "I demanded a reason, and he spewed nonsense at me! He said―" and she stops. Her whole body slumps back into stillness but without the stiffness of before. She continues quietly, "He said he didn’t want to see what I’d look like with my heart so far outside of my chest," like a guilty confession. Ash is at once reminded of their almost-fight a month ago, and he still isn’t sure what this all means.

He almost asks, Why wouldn’t he believe your heart was right where you were? or How capable is the human heart now? but he doesn’t.

Instead, he finally welcomes May inside. He sits her on the couch and helps her take off her heels before she wraps herself up in the blanket he keeps there―a blanket he only has, he remembers, because when she first visited his apartment, she insisted his couch needed one. She doesn’t just hold the blanket around her shoulders; she hides her entire frame within its folds. He merely sits on the couch next to the lump and places a solitary hand on top, unsure where it was resting yet hoping it is providing comfort nevertheless.

He wonders if May ever let Steven see her like this, the way she needs to shut out all stimuli as if to physically recreate her darkest moments. He wonders why he loves that she does that, even though it causes him so much selfish pain to be close enough to see her like this but shut out from her healing.

"I don’t think I have a boyfriend anymore," May says at length, voice dampened by the space and fabric between them.

It would have been the happiest news of Ash’s adult life if it weren’t for the extreme melancholy that laced her tone as she said it out loud.

He squeezes his hand into a fist on top of the blanket, his signal that he’d like to hug her if he could.

"I would have missed you if you left." Ash gives a nonsequitur-confession in response. May burrows deeper into the blankets and says nothing.

Instead, she reaches a hand out from a heretofore unseen opening in the fabric and holds on to his other hand tightly.

Ash stares at her slender knuckles, made paler from her firm grasp, and stops hoping.

He gently plies her fingers from his palm and tries not to feel guilty about the shocked, embarrassed way the hand pulls back into the blanket as he leaves her there.

The love of his life needs compassion right now. This is not his opportunity to sweep her off her feet; this is not his second chance.

He returns from the bedroom, settles back into his place on the couch, and forces May out of the blanket.

~~~

May jerks her head up, shocked and angry and still embarrassed from her rejected attempt to seek Ash’s comfort, but she is quickly mollified into confusion. The expected sight of Ash’s lit up form in his lit up living room ends up being no different from the blackness from which she thought she was rudely taken.

It is so dark under the extra, larger blanket that she can’t even see Ash’s nose even though she can sense his head is mere inches from hers.

His hands find hers in the darkness and squeeze. Relief flashes through her as she finally surrenders to the deep, thick slice of heartbreak.

May wants to see his face, but she settles for a hug.

[thecrownnet]

Had you been searching for a way to be on “The Crown,” or had Peter been searching for a role that would make you consider it?

When I first heard about “The Crown,” I was in New York doing [“A Streetcar Named Desire”] and the girl who played my sister, Stella, was Vanessa Kirby, who played Margaret [in Seasons 1 and 2]. And she was talking to me about this thing that she had shot between when we did the play in London and when we did it in New York. I had no idea, anything about it. And the thought of it didn’t really appeal to me. I didn’t think: “Oh, let me look into that, it sounds like something I want to do.”

Not that long after was when Peter and I got together, so I was exposed to it on a very intimate level and watching how it was produced and going to visit set and seeing how the feel of the set was very different than I had experienced on the majority of things that I’ve ever worked on — it really felt very adult, very well run. Not that other things I’ve done haven’t been, but it just felt there were a lot of grown-up people in charge and it had a really loving feel to it. But I never investigated, I never searched out ... and so when it came up as an idea, and Pete asked if I thought that I could potentially do Thatcher, and I thought about it seriously, there were two sides for that. One was, would I want to work on “The Crown,” period? By that point, it was a no-brainer, having seen how beautifully the series was shot and written. And then the other was, did I think she could live somewhere inside me; did I get how to interpret her? Both of those were resounding yeses.

You were born in the U.S. but grew up in the U.K. What do you remember about the Thatcher era?

I grew up in the U.K., but we left in ’79. So we left the year she was coming in. I have no memory whatsoever of being aware of much political anything. I don’t remember dinner conversations about it, I don’t remember anything. Once moving to the States, so much of my world — even though, again, I would have been hearing about Reagan and Carter — I’m not even sure whether she came into my radar at all until, perhaps, I was in high school. I really came at this, certainly, with preconceptions of other people’s opinions and beliefs and strong feelings about her, but nothing from my own experience.

She was such a polarizing political figure. How was it trying to find a compassionate journey in this role?

Ultimately, the Thatcher that I’m playing is the Thatcher as per Peter Morgan scripts in “The Crown.” There’s a lot of humanity in his scripts, period. No matter who the character is. And that’s no different for Thatcher. And so you get to see more than we’re used to seeing of her as a wife, as a mother. You see as much of those aspects of her as you do of her as a politician. Between playing those scenes and understanding from the research that I did, just the challenges that she had specific to class, specific to the fact that she was a woman, and by the nature of the role that she was stepping into ... completely surrounded by men. And she perpetuated that because she enjoyed the company of men and there was only one woman that she hired in the Cabinet in the 10, 11 years that she was in office. She perpetuated that. But at the same time, as you see in the series, it was a different kind of support that she surrounded herself with when she re-cast the Cabinet and continued to reshuffle as she went on. Some of that is about coming up against disagreement time and time and time again or people who patronize her, or felt that she was never going to be as effective as a male leader. And some, by the end of it certainly, was because they just weren’t doing what she wanted them to be doing.

I think that you get a good sense of all aspects of her in the series, seeing a much more three-dimensional characterization of Thatcher than one might in a political documentary or one might have thought about her historically. I think that, if it’s not compassion — because there’s a lot of people who, regardless, will never find compassion for her — at least there’s a sense of a human being there that was more than just the rhetoric and the policy.

I assume you studied a lot of videos. Did you pick up on any of her tics or mannerisms beyond her voice that helped you sink into the role?

You can’t really see her in image and moving form without noticing the tilt of her head or the slightly buck teeth or how she holds her hand and the fact that she has a condition where her two outside fingers curl inward a little bit. You can see that when she’s gesticulating — those kind of things that you can pick up from video. And then there’s her walk, which is only her walk. She’s barreling ahead of every other world leader or whatever it is. So picking up on some of it but at the same time trying to not to make too much of it so that it’s not a mime. That was something that Peter said really early on ... he didn’t want me to disappear so much that we didn’t see Gillian in there.

What was the process of putting a voice like hers together, to capture the nuance of her vocal pattern? Thatcher worked with a vocal coach.

She was born in the north, she was born in Lincolnshire, so she would have had a much different voice when she was a child. She received elocution lessons when she was in school. And so she’d already made steps in that direction. And then when her PR person came in, who kind of took her under his wing, he suggested she start to work on her voice. That was still while she was in opposition. You can see the change that happens if you listen to the old footage.

You don’t get to really see, in this decade of “The Crown,” her at the podium or a party conference where you get the full weight of her oration and what happens to her voice in those situations. Just for the sake of the continuity of the show over the decade, it was important to find a voice that was a little bit grounded in my own sense so that it didn’t sound too forced. Before I started working with a voice coach, I had her in my ears and speakers and stuff, just to try and get a sense of her rhythms and the breaths that she took. It’s a very breathy voice and so, therefore, I have to start quite far down in the diaphragm.

You said that you didn’t watch other notable portrayals of Thatcher, including Meryl Streep’s, while preparing for the role but that you might rewatch when you were done. Have you gotten around to that?

No. I think I’m going to wait until it comes out. I’m too close. The jury is still out. But I’d like to. I think it would be fun. And also to go, like, “Oh, that’s interesting.”

Thatcher is very measured and focused on making her points. Jean on “Sex Education” is much more alive and unafraid to raise her voice when needed. Was it nice to go back to that?

Last week was my first week back, and I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve acted; it’s been so long since I’ve been around other people. I feel like last week was as much about me reminding myself that I am an actor, that I’m not entirely sure that I’ve leapt into all the fabulous aspects of getting to play Jean. I feel like, OK, I’ve done my first week. Now I can kind of relax and dig into it. I am looking forward to that moment because she can be an absolute joy to play.[...]

[ratingtheframe]

Everything That Happened at the 2021 Golden Globes

The first two months of the year are finally over and as the days grow longer, we can start to see the early signs of spring. With spring comes summer and with summer comes an influx of movie releases, with the majority of films that were put on hold last year scheduled to be released in the following months in cinemas across the world. You know, cinemas, as in those big rooms where you pay to sit and watch movies from start to finish without pausing it? Gosh have I missed the pre movie adverts, comfy chairs and super wide screens. It's not the same at home and despite Netflix, HBO and Amazon Prime thriving, we shouldn’t set anything in stone when it comes to the quality and accessibility of film. 

Cinema is tradition whereas On Demand is convenience and usually choosing convenience over tradition does impact the quality of work being distributed. There are a bunch of films on streaming platforms that would be too inappropriate for cinemas, seeing as they lack a cinematic or dramatic feel to them to be good enough for a big screen. This allows mediocre to downright awful films to find an audience via streaming platforms. All well and good, seeing as these platforms are great exposure for upcoming filmmakers but at the same time it's a capitalistic system that puts views above the quality of content. It doesn’t matter if what you’re watching on Netflix is bad, they just want you to keep coming back for more. This can be said for mainstream cinema too, but to a lesser degree seeing as cinemas typically release around 68 movies per month, whereas Netflix has the ability to add up to 200 releases on their platform per month. It makes perfect sense that Netflix has the viewers that it does, as we can see that it releases almost twice the content of cinemas per month. For the avid cinephiles, this leaves us wanting a lot more as we’re only able to enjoy maybe one or two films a month from online streaming services, because the quality is so inconsistent. I hope that cinemas open soon so that I can relax knowing that the film I’ve paid money for will be of a good quality. 

Speaking of good quality films, Chloé Zhao, director of Nomadland (2021) became the second woman in the 78 year history of the Golden Globes to win an award for directing. This is an exceptional triumph and from the moment I saw Nomadland, I knew that it would have an incredible impact on awards circuits this year. Nomadland also won Best Picture, which proves something that up and coming filmmakers may need to start getting their heads around. People may not necessarily be gravitating towards cinema for a chance of escapism any more. I thoroughly believe those days are behind us, buried in the 70s and 80s with films that defied the laws of filmmaking and went to extreme lengths to serve us an entire universe that we couldn’t even comprehend. However, as the world grows more fragile and people start to realise the fragility of life, we want to connect with one another authentically and realistically. 

The way that film can do this is by showing our real selves on screen, showing our pain, redemption, emotions, fear, honesty, laughter, race, gender, humanity, darkest secrets and biggest dreams using the backdrop of cinema to sell us a story. People want films that are honest and are a reflection of humanity as well as the current society we’re living in. Not necessarily “a slice of life”, but a slice of humanity that we never see because it’s never impacted us directly, yet we still want to be made to feel like it has through film. That’s the key to success in any film, making the viewer feel like they’ve experienced something on screen even when they haven’t. If the film is too far away from our own psyche or humanity, we switch off, as we can no longer relate or even want to relate to something so obtuse and boring. Nomadland was the complete opposite to this theory, bringing us humanity in all its glory; its sadness and pure emotion that affects millions everyday, especially in such a time when loneliness is rife.

This is why Mank (2020) lost out. In a time where the world is in a sensitive disposition, Mank came as ineffective to the world of film. Though triumphant in it’s making, the film proves the fundamental foundation of film that Mank failed to do; have a good story. Mank just wasn’t the story people wanted or needed to see and one can appreciate a filmmaker’s efforts to make films but at the end of the day, the story is truly the only thing that’ll carry a film and if it's uninteresting and impersonal, people switch off. And they clearly did, seeing as Mank lost out to all SIX of its nominations. Less is more, I suppose, seeing as Nomadland won two out of four awards, including the top prize of Best Picture. David Fincher even took a shot every time he lost a category. Better luck next time.Other snubs included Emerald Fennell’s Promising Young Woman (2021) starring Carey Mulligan ,which was released on VOD last month. The film was nominated for four prizes and I suppose the lack of release in cinemas worldwide or at a Film Festival meant the lack of hype for the film. Regina King’s One Night In Miami...failed to pick up a prize, having been nominated for three awards. King shouldn’t be too disheartened, seeing as her debut definitely got her the recognition she deserved.

Aaron Sorkin most notably won Best Screenplay for his amazing picture, The Trial of the Chicago 7. I had the fortune of catching this in cinemas and the musicality of this screenplay was unreal. An incredibly authentic, riveting and honest piece of work, I believe we can safely say that Aaron Sorkin is the greatest writer for cinema and TV in our day and age. Sorkin is used to being showered with accolades, from Primetime Emmys with The West Wing, to an Oscar with David Fincher’s The Social Network.

The late Chadwick Boseman was honoured in full glory, having won the award for Best Supporting Actor in a Motion Picture for his role as Levee in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. An exceptional performance that reeks with Oscar success, Boseman is the first actor to be awarded the prize posthumously.

What’s also to be noted is the amount of British nominees and winners at this year’s ceremony. It seems like the American Film & TV market is wide open for Brits, seeing as Emma Corrin, Josh O'Connor, Daniel Kaluuya, Sacha Baron Cohen, Rosamund Pike, John Boyega and Anya Taylor Joy all won awards for acting. Helen Bonham Carter, Olivia Coleman, Vanessa Kirby, Riz Ahmed, Gary Oldman, Antony Hopkins, Dev Patel, James Corden, Hugh Grant, Jodie Comer, Lilly Collins and Nicolas Hoult all received nominations and were all born in the UK. The Crown in particular just seems to be getting more successful with each year and despite its controversy, the show has won Netflix 7 Golden Globes and 10 Emmys. What does this tell us about our actors and their ability in comparison to our friends overseas? Is it just a stroke of luck that the majority of actors who won this year are British or are we doing something different? Only time will tell as more British actors begin to be recognised for their flare over in the US.

If anything, we’ve learnt that The Golden Globes is for everyone. Anyone can win an award despite their background as long as those who control the awards ceremony are willing to give a variety of films a chance, not just ones directed by David Fincher. Nomadland is certainly an underdog for cinema, one that may not have done as well had other films been released last year. COVID-19 created space for this film to be seen and has truly been taken in as a work of art, proving that films of the same kind deserve to be seen in the up and coming future. British actors can and have made it big in Hollywood and it seems like American audiences welcome them with open arms. Sacha Baron’s Cohen’s humour in Borat Subsequent MovieFilm wasn’t unrequited, seeing as it won Best Musical / Comedy at this year’s award season, meaning every moment of that film (incriminating or not) WAS WORTH IT. Even though Regina King and Emerald Fennell lost out on their respective films, their work has been courageous and profound in helping to give space to women in the film industry. The fact that they were even nominated along with Chloé Zhao, was an achievement in itself and has women like me looking up to the success of these three women and realising that I could have the same shot. Mank came at the wrong time, and though good visually, it lacked a beating heart that the Golden Globes could identify with enough to give it at least one award. Soul was named Best Animation Feature Film of the year, also winning an award for music with a beautiful score by Atticus Ross, Trent Reznor and Jon Batiste. The Queen’s Gambit also reigned supreme, as Anya Taylor Joy won Best Actress for a performance in a mini series / tv film and the overall series won Best Television Mini Series / Television Film.

This has to be the best Golden Globes I’ve ever witnessed. Not only did it champion diversity in the film categories, British Actors and female directors, it actually gave consumers as well as judges, something that actually wanted, which was to see underdogs thrive in an environment that’s usually laid bare for the same characters. Let’s keep this up for the next ceremony !

ig @ratingtheframe

[ends-of-the-wayward-storm]

KH OC Week 2020--Day 7: Summer’s End

Road Trip!

[Hoo boy this turned out long. But that’s how I write, apparently. 😂 This week was real fun as always! I’m hoping one day I’ll get to writing Erica’s story. Of course you can’t rush things like that so we’ll see. Maybe if there’s another OC Week next year I might have a new character idea to use. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! This was real cute to write.] @khoc-week

————

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Erica.”

“We’ll be really careful, I promise. And besides. I’ve been there before.”

“But it goes against the rules. You know that.”

Erica frowned. Summer was drawing to a close, and they had all had a great time so far. But she wanted to do something special before it was over. “But they’ve gone to a different world before.”

“. . .Well, you’re right about that. . . .”

“It’ll just be for a day. Then we’ll head home, I promise.”

The dream eater tilted their head in thought. They knew Erica was careful when it came to these kinds of things. But a lot of things could happen if people from different worlds were to meet. “If anything happens, you have to leave as quickly as you can.”

“I promise.”

Chirithy studied her for a bit before sighing. “All right. Just this once. But after today, no more ideas like this, okay?”

“Yes!” Erica picked up Chirithy and hugged them. “Thank you so much! This’ll be great, I know it will!”

Chirithy held back another sigh. I hope nothing goes wrong.

She set them down. “Now I just have to figure out which world to go to.”

————

Olette stifled a yawn as she waited in an alley in Sunset Terrace. “What do you think’s going on?”

“Beats me,” Hayner said, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“Her message was pretty vague,” Pence mentioned.

“But why so early?”

Pence rubbed his chin. “Maybe she’s found another wonder here!”

“Maybe,” Olette said. “We’ll just have to wait until she gets here.”

A few minutes later, the others came around the corner. Yet Erica wasn’t with them.

“Any idea what comin’ here so early is about?” Lea asked before yawning.

“Pence here thinks Erica’s found another wonder,” Hayner said, reminding Roxas of the time he had to dodge balls flying out of the wall he had been trying to get to. “But I doubt that.”

“Perhaps this is something she wants to remain between us,” Isa guessed.

“Maybe,” Roxas said.

“Oh, here she comes!” Naminé said. Hayner, Pence, and Olette peeked out from behind the corner to see Erica jogging her way over to them. But her stealing a glance over her shoulder raised a yellow flag for everyone.

“Good. Everyone’s here,” Erica said.

“What’s going on?” Xion asked.

“I have a surprise for you guys.”

“Really?” Hayner said.

“And here I thought something was up,” Lea said.

Erica checked her surroundings again. “Okay, this way.”

Everyone followed her further into the alleyway, and she took one more glance behind everyone.

“So, what kind of surprise is this?” Hayner asked.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good one,” Erica replied. Starlight appeared in her hand, and she faced the wall before pointing her Keyblade at it.

“You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?” Lea questioned. A corridor of light appeared, pulling surprised noises out of Hayner, Pence, and Olette. “Yeah. You are.”

“Hey wait. That’s that portal thing!” Pence realized.

“It’s a corridor of light,” Erica explained. “I want to take you guys to a new world before summer ends.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lea asked.

“We’ve all been to a different world before,” Roxas said.

“I know that, but . . . this is different.”

“Lea’s right,” Isa said. “This might not be the best idea.”

“I’ve been to this one before,” Erica said.

“That doesn’t matter. It could be dangerous.”

“Aw come on you two!” Pence said. “This could be fun!”

“It’s like Roxas said,” Olette pointed out. “We’ve all been to a different world.”

“And it was awesome!” Hayner added.

“I wouldn’t mind going,” Xion said. “It might be nice.”

“Yeah,” Roxas agreed.

“I’m sure Erica wouldn’t do this if it was dangerous,” Naminé pointed out, and Lea and Isa exchanged sideways glances.

“You guys have to make sure not to say a peep about Twilight Town,” Lea said. “Not everyone knows about other worlds.”

“Got it,” Pence said. “We have to become one with our surroundings.”

“And no wandering around,” Isa added.

“No problem,” Hayner said.

“Then let’s go!” Olette beamed. Erica smiled, and the group entered the corridor. They were met with silence for a few moments before waves brushing against the shore and the smell of the sea welcomed them.

“Woah! Where are we?” Pence asked.

“This is Atlantica,” Erica said. “Well, actually we’re closer to Prince Eric’s castle.”

“Prince Eric?” Roxas repeated, only to remember he had been inside Sora upon first hearing that name.

“You know a prince?” Olette asked.

“Yup, and he’s really nice,” Erica said. “Oh! I think there’s a town here we could go to.”

“Well, you’re our expert here,” Lea said.

As Erica led everyone down a path through a sort of archway of rock, Lea and Isa kept an eye on the group from the rear. Along the way, she told everyone as much as she could about the world (with the exception of what was under the sea. Some things were probably still lurking down there). She also mentioned knowing a seagull named Scuttle.

“He talks?” Xion asked.

“Mmhmm,” Erica said.

“This is like a whole other dimension!” Pence said.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lea commented.

“We should head back to the beach after this,” Olette suggested.

“I wonder what kind of shells are there,” Xion wondered.

“Maybe they’re different from Sora’s world,” Naminé said.

“Heeeeyyy!” someone shouted, making the group stop.

“Who’s shouting?” Pence asked.

“Heeeeyyy!” This time the voice was closer, and moments later wings flapping brought everyone’s attention above them. “Look out below!”

A seagull came in for a rough landing, pulling startled noises out of everyone.

“Boy I really gotta work on my landings,” the seagull commented as he dusted himself off.

“Did he just talk?” Pence whispered.

“Yeah,” Hayner replied. “I bet that’s—”

“Hi Scuttle,” Erica said.

“Hmm?” Scuttle looked up at her before squinting. “Y’know, you look very familiar.”

“It’s me Eri—”

“Wait don’t tell me. It’s right on the tip of my tongue. . . .” He rubbed his chin. “You’re a friend of Ariel’s right? The one with the reeeally curly hair?”

“Yup. That’s me.”

“Is he serious?” Hayner whispered.

“I got it!” Scuttle said. “Erica! Hey it’s been a while!”

The wielder in question laughed a bit. “It’s good to see you.”

Guess he didn’t get it memorized, Roxas thought.

Scuttle finally laid eyes on everyone else. “Woah. That is a lot of humans.”

“They’re friends of mine,” Erica said, and Naminé and Olette waved before the curly-haired girl introduced everyone.

“Nice to meetcha!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Olette said.

“So, what are you up to today?”

“We were going to head to the town to walk around for a bit,” Erica said.

“Y’know what, there’s a shortcut I found just a couple days ago that’ll get you there in minutes.”

“Really?” Xion asked.

“Yeah! C’mon I’ll show ya!” The bird took off in the opposite direction after a couple flaps, and the group exchanged looks.

“You sure we should be trusting him with directions?” Lea asked.

“He can be a bit . . . off sometimes, but we can count on him,” Erica said.

“All right. If you say so.”

The group then proceeded to follow Scuttle.

“I can’t believe birds talk here!” Pence said, trying to keep his voice down. “Are they the only animals that talk here?”

“I know a fish and a crab that talk, too,” Erica replied.

“No way!” Hayner said.

“Y’know, so far this hasn’t been a bad idea after all,” Lea commented to Isa.

“You could say that,” Isa replied. “And taking directions from a talking seagull is certainly something. But, every world is different.”

After a couple more minutes Scuttle stopped before a cave that made a few eyebrows rise.

“We have to go in there?” Hayner asked.

“Are you sure about this?” Erica questioned.

“Positive,” Scuttle replied. “Oh uh might wanna watch your step in here. Y’know since humans can’t fly and all.” He squinted at the cave. “I don’t think I remember it being this dark last time.”

Lea shot the bird a look that went unnoticed before sighing and stepping away. Grabbing two sticks, he checked to make sure Scuttle was still facing the cave before igniting the sticks with a brief fire spell. “Well I have our light. Lead the way.”

Scuttle looked to Lea. “Huh. Fire. You humans really know how to use that stuff.” The seagull went inside, and the group followed him in with Lea right behind him.

“How many times have you been through here?” Roxas asked, holding the other stick.

“Ahh a couple times, give or take. But don’t worry. I got this cave mapped out perfectly up here.” The seagull knocked on his head briefly, and Lea once again gave the bird a look that Isa caught.

The cave didn’t really have much to it other than the dozens of small rocks and pebbles tossed around here and there. Lea and Isa both had a couple inches of room above them, but that really didn’t seem to make them feel any better. But, after a short while Scuttle proved true to his word, and they could hear the sounds of bustling people ahead of them.

“And here we are!” He pulled back fabric that acted as a curtain before squeezing himself through a space between two of the several boards that were shoddily boarding up the hole.

Managing to find a loose board that could be pushed aside to form a way out, Olette made her way through, and she brushed the curtain aside. “Woah! Guys, over here!”

“Huh?” Roxas put his torch out before following after her, and the others followed suit. Lea was the last one out once he put his torch out, and he and Isa could already see how excited the others were.

“Thanks, Scuttle!” Erica said.

“Any time, Erica,” Scuttle said. “I’ll see ya later!”

Once he was off, Xion tugged Lea and Isa along, and the rest finally ventured out into the open. People were going to and fro all around them, some looking at those selling their wares while others simply enjoyed the atmosphere. There was a puppet show going on that was capturing their young audience very well, and a couple stands in the streets were situated at just the right angle to catch one’s eye.

“It’s very different from home,” Naminé said. “But it’s a good different.”

The scent of flowers caught Xion’s attention, and she noticed some very familiar ones.

“Forget-me-nots,” Isa said. “I haven’t seen those in a while.”

“They’re really pretty.”

“Hey can we check out what’s down that way?” Pence asked, pointing at an archway.

“They’re selling paint over there,” Naminé said. “I’ve always wanted to try painting.” Lea and Isa exchanged looks.

“All right, here’s the deal,” Lea said. “We’ll meet back at that fountain over there in two hours.”

“Stay in pairs or groups of three,” Isa said. “And don’t stray too far from one another. Understood?”

“Yes!” Pence said, and he nudged Hayner. “C’mon guys!”

“Wait up, you two!” Olette said before hurrying after them.

“Where’d you see that paint?” Lea asked.

“That way.” Naminé took him by the hand and led him to the stand.

“H-hey!” Roxas said. Isa watched him leave, and he looked to see Erica still with him and Xion, the two girls’ attention already captured by the flowers.

“There’s so many here,” Xion said. “It’s almost hard to pick.”

“Which one did you see first?” Erica asked.

“Those blue ones there.” Xion pointed to the forget-me-nots.

“I have some munny if you want them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mmhmm.”

“. . . Then, I’ll get them. Please.”

Erica bought the flowers, and Xion’s eyes drifted to the rest of the stand.

“What about those?” She pointed to a few other ones, and Isa pulled out some extra munny.

“You have quite the eye,” he said. The seller gave her a basket for the flowers, and Xion thanked both him and her friends. After the trio moved aside, Xion carefully sifted through her basket before pulling out a forget-me-not and giving it to Isa.

“There’s enough for everyone else, so I thought I could share them.”

He glanced between her and the flower before gently taking it. As for Erica, Xion gave her one of the blue chrysanthemums. But there was another flower attached to it.

“A dandelion,” Erica said. Just the very word reminded her of Master Ava and her friends. It was strange how one word could bring up so many memories. . . .

“Some say you can wish on those.”

“I uh, I think I’ll try to keep it in one piece.” Erica tucked both flowers behind her ear, making sure they wouldn’t fall. “Thank you.”

Xion smiled. “Let’s try to find everyone else.”

It didn’t take too long for the trio to find Lea, Roxas, and Naminé. The blonde-haired girl couldn’t stop looking at the bottles of paint she had acquired, already thinking of what to paint once they got home.

“That’s a lot of flowers,” Roxas said as both groups met.

“They do look nice,” Naminé commented. Xion picked out a daisy for Naminé, an orange chrysanthemum for Lea, and a white one for Roxas.

“Looks just like your hair,” Isa commented as Lea stuck his flower in his hair with pride.

“I bet it brings out my eyes, doesn’t it?” Lea replied, earning laughs from the girls.

Naminé gently picked a forget-me-not from the basket and placed it in Xion’s hair. “You should have one too.” Xion gave her a smile.

Erica looked around the square, but she was unable to spot Hayner, Pence, and Olette. “Um, should we look for the others?”

“You might wanna look over there,” Lea said, gesturing with his head to the trio in question running toward them. Hayner had a sort of box in his hands, and Olette had some smaller things in her hand. As for Pence he wasn’t too far behind them.

“You got excited,” Isa said with a small smile.

“They have pretzels here!” Hayner said. “Oh, and we saw this girl with long red hair. She was pretty nice.”

“Was she with a guy with black hair?” Erica asked.

“Oh yeah. He was nice, too,” Pence answered.

“I think that was Ariel and Prince Eric.”

“That was them?”

“Yup.”

“They looked really sweet together,” Olette said. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She held out her hand, revealing beaded bracelets much like her own and some wristbands. “I got these for us.”

“You did?” Roxas asked.

“Mmhmm.” Olette passed her gifts out.

“You didn’t mention anything about where we’re from, did you?” Erica asked.

“Don’t worry. We kept quiet about that,” Hayner said.

Xion turned her wrist to admire her new silver bracelet. “Thanks, Olette.” Going through her basket, she picked out flowers for Hayner, Pence, and Olette.

Olette looked at her orange chrysanthemum. “These are for us?” Xion nodded, earning a smile from Olette. “Thanks, Xion.”

“So, we ready to head back to the beach?” Hayner said.

“Sure, if you want to,” Lea replied, leading the others to agree.

“All right, then let’s hit the road!”

Lea and Isa held onto the baskets of paint and flowers, letting the rest of the group chat away excitedly.

“Best. Day. Ever!” Pence beamed.

“Yeah this was awesome!” Hayner agreed.

“Heh heh. I’m glad you liked it here,” Erica said.

The redhead’s eyes drifted to the flowers. “Y’know, our home world had a lot flowers there.”

“I remember them,” Isa replied. “I wonder if they’re the same.”

“I figured they’d be, what with the people in that world restoring it and all.”

The blue-haired man glanced to the others, spotting Hayner playfully shoving Roxas, who shoved back. “Perhaps one day we’ll see it again. Properly.”

“And maybe once we find her, we should take her with us.”

“I think she’d like that.”

Eventually the group reached the beach, and the sun was beginning to set. A soft breeze passed through as they sat in the sand, making sure not to sit too close to the water. However, Isa noticed Erica had stayed behind, her distant gaze on the dandelion in her hands.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asked.

“Hmm?” She looked to him. “I’ll catch up in a bit.”

Her usual smile didn’t reach her eyes, but he decided to leave her be. Erica waited for him to keep walking before closing her eyes. She could just imagine herself back at that beach with those other wielders. She could just hear their laughter as they messed around with each other, the leader of the group trying her best not to laugh with them.

Of course, that was in the past. She had other friends that she could share memories with now. And . . . maybe one day they would all meet.

One day I’ll see them again.

Erica blew onto the dandelion, and she watched the wind carry its seeds far, far away. . . .

“Hey Erica! You coming?” Pence called.

“Be right there!” Pocketing what remained of the dandelion, she briskly headed toward everyone else. As she sat down, Roxas noticed she had only one flower in her hair.

“Your dandelion’s missing,” he said.

“I decided to make a wish on it.”

“What did you wish for?” Xion asked.

“Can’t say. I’m hoping it’ll come true.”

“Maybe it will,” Olette said. Once she opened the box of pretzels for everyone, their heavenly buttery scent filled the air.

Pence pulled a piece off of his to pop into his mouth. “Hey these are better than the ones back home.”

“I guess the baker here’s pretty good,” Lea commented.

“They taste the same to me,” Roxas said.

“I think so too,” Xion said.

Olette swallowed a bite. “Do you think we could do this again?” The former Organization members and Erica exchanged glances.

“Uh we’ll see about that,” Lea said.

Naminé looked to the horizon, feeling the breeze against her face. “At least we got to spend time together like this. That’s what matters the most.”

“Yeah,” Xion agreed.

“I guess we’re pretty lucky,” Roxas said. But thunder followed by sudden rain decided to say otherwise.

“Aw man!” Hayner complained, gathering his shoes.

“Q-quick, head for that cave!” Pence said, and everyone collected their things before darting off. Erica couldn’t help laughing a bit, which led to Naminé laughing as well. And luckily the group made it just before the rain got any heavier.

Erica puffed out a brief laugh. “That came out of nowhere.”

Hayner poured some water out of his shoes. “No kidding.”

Olette glanced to Roxas, and she couldn’t help snickering. “Roxas, your hair.”

“My hair?” He parted the hair from his eyes like a curtain.

“You look like a hippie,” Hayner teased.

“Axel’s hair got kind of long,” Xion pointed out with a laugh.

“And Pence’s hair looks like a wilted plant,” Lea quipped, and the group shared a laugh.

“I think our pretzels got soaked,” Pence said. “But at least the flowers got some water.” Naminé laughed a bit only to sneeze.

“I’ll see if I can get a fire going.” It wasn’t very long until a small fire was made, and the group huddled around it as they listened to the rain.

“I hope we don’t get sick tomorrow,” Hayner said. “That’d really be a bummer.”

“Same here.”

Olette readjusted her flower. “Thanks for taking us here, Erica. It was amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” Erica said. “But um, we should probably head home once we’re all dry.”

The group voiced their agreements. They’d get home eventually, but for now, they were going to remain just how they were—gathered around a fire and listening to the rain and the ocean.

Together.

————

[deuce-duce]

Am I...?? (Inwardly GASPS)!! Which Part...??

Today is March 2nd 2021 and I got my puter back and went to look at what I had last written on December 16th 2020. When I opened the file, it had been changed… dates had been obscured and certain things had been reworded… So… I have decided to go back through all of my previous posts to ensure the integrity of what I am writing stays that way! During this process I will be putting together a collection of my favorite quotes and post fragments. Which I will dub Rock and Roll’s Greatest Hits, if you live near me go buy airhorns Ill tell you why, When the greatest hits album comes out. What your about to read is primarily from Dec. 16th with a few changes or should I say… restorations?? Probably a little of both to be honest. Everything is still as it happened, I just add better descriptive words and fine tune the analogies so that they are easier to digest… My English teacher always told me that was what I was good at! Along with many others… who have said the same… not only do I understand it… I’m able to explain it in a way that others understand as well. ENJOY

On the seventh of December I woke up not too sure if something had occurred that night or not… as I have mentioned before they use a numbing agent that basically masks the pain until it wears off approximately 12 hours later… When I a woke on this day I was having moments of clarity and for some reason just couldn’t keep them to myself. talking to one of the staff members of the homeless shelter I expressed my destiny that I actually had one, that was going to bring me to greatness… then out of nowhere I just blurted out there is going to be a power shift!!!! And at that very moment I couldn’t believe what it was that had just come out of my mouth. I didn’t even believe it at first because the guy at the desk was like IDK… about… that… but when I went back into my room, the look on my roommate’s face said it all!! It seems as though those who pull strings and orchestrate a lot of this… put all of their eggs into one basket. I don’t know exactly what the terms of thee bet were but I’m assuming it had/has something to do with me not being able to control my compulsivity associated with my dissociation. Unfortunately for them I made a deal with God. It was while I was on quarantine and even though I was in a basement all by myself people kept F$%^&*!> with me. This is when I prayed stating that I would not falter, for my body his temple his craft and his glory. that I need to take care of myself and my destiny, for it is in his hands and I won’t let my selfishness or imperfections stop him from fulfilling his plan. Over and over again I have cried and cried about how fundamental and powerful this is all going to be. EFFIN CRAZY!! And now that I know without anyone telling me and it literally being given to me somehow is what is freaking everybody out. How do I know or how the hell did I figure it out!! I really couldn’t tell you and the only thing that is possible is that our Creator endowed me with such responsibility. Crazy!! (this was before I considered the probability of God being a woman, A mother, A Lover)

Low and behold one of my favorite artists Mr. Kid, Maniac, Rager, Wizard, Pursuer of Happiness Cudi dropped a new album entitled Man on the MOON Three. Ill have to say it’s a wonderfully made album! The album delves deep into who Scott is… I know the Fans are going to love it.

Rewind a little bit sorry for my hiatus just needed to stay focused and well as your aware have been led here not by accident and had some things that I needed to take care of before I started writing again. Not to mention I have been dealing with a lot only to know that I am who I am for a reason Rockstar Knights off MOTM3 has a lot to say concerning who I am and what I have realized as a result to my struggle. The Song is a collab with Trippie Redd and really encapsulates so much, that its hard to describe in words.

I had a very interesting conversation with my mother the other day and came to a pretty profound thought. 1st I was telling her how I was being told that I am too….!!! Smart!! Like WTF!! REALLY!! Is that even a thing?? But I didn’t let it get to me too much as it probably is the reason I face so much adversity, No matter the community I enter into. This is how I have explained it to her and a couple other people in the community as well as the Rasta Man in the PNW. The best analogy I could present is if a plant with a fire burning so big and so hot on one side of the plant, a fire so big and hot that it probably would kill most other plants, but not this plant. This plant had sooooo much drive and will to live that instead of giving up it grew in the opposite direction of the blaze. While the roots could withstand the blazing inferno becoming one with the heat and pain Upon the journey away from the fire (society) the plant developed different characteristics colors and attributes that no other plant had. Essentially that journey completely changed that plants physiology Psychology and possible its genetic makeup altogether. Now that the plant has grown so far from the fire (Society) that its all alone. Now theres a different kind of fire where he once thought was safe. But as he grows back towards the fire to escape the new blaze (tyranny) he realizes he will never be able to be the same as the fire he grew so far away from. Now the only option the plant has with death being imminent is to grow as big and bright as quickly as possible before it is engulfed on all sides.

All this taken into account along with factoring in the two major belief structures in the world one Being Creation or Evolution (The Big BANG) this plant which has defied all odds still shines brightly displaying its colors and unique characteristics no matter how dark the room may be it still continues to bloom! Is this a Divine will and plan or are we experiencing the next step of Evolution??? My honest opinion is its both! For the mere ability to adapt and change and prevail in situations others couldn’t dream of or even have nightmares about is truly remarkable and in my eyes is an act of GOD! Just as any evolutionary step would be. The crazier part is… he has no handle!! Nothing to grab on to leaving no way for anyone to grab hold and control! AYE….

I thought this all might just be me being stubborn or simply an idiot until for some reason I opened up my meme App. Something I never open or even look at and the first thing that popped up was a picture and quote saying that many told Marilyn Monroe that she was only beautiful because of the clothes and dresses she wore. It then concluded Marilyn Monroe did a photoshoot in nothing but a burlap potato sack. The photos and the message she sent were completely opposite of that which was being said by spectators. Now!! As scrolled to the second meme I was expecting something funny!! That wasn’t the case what I saw next was the upcoming alignment of the two largest planets in the solar system Jupiter and Saturn. Not only does their alignment happen only every 20 years but the proximity of this occurrence to the earth as well as the proximity to each other hasn’t been the same for close to 800 years… What does it all mean… IDK but The Christmas Star is what their calling the alignment and if your familiar with the bible is the star that the kings, from other lands followed  to bring gifts to baby JESUS! Who knows what this alignment could usher in.?

So profound thought comes to me on a daily basis now it’s so strange the way that it comes it will just be momentary thoughts that will pass through my conscience and as they go by I latch on to it delve a little deeper and experience an overwhelming amount of… IDK what to call it but it feels very powerful so much so that it brings me to tears… I don’t know exactly what the future holds but I think that is what makes this so great! I just keep my mind open Like apple IOS Systems letting everything come and go as it pleases when something goes by that strikes me, I latch on and don’t let go. Its weird how it all happens.

Steve Jobs once said that if he had never had an acid trip that he would have never of come up with the operating system for Apple and after explaining to you what I do as a spiritual and destiny seeking process I believe was his thought process as well. This in of itself is what I think they mean when they say to keep an open mind. Just so you know I didn’t come up with that little bit about the late Mr. Jobs by plan it just came to me when thinking about how to have, use and keep an open mind.

The reason I explained this to you was because this is how I Pray! After I pray I sit still with an open mind allowing multiple ideas thoughts and perspectives to pass through my brain… until like an IOS operating system, something speaks to me… when I latch on to it, focus on what it means and what it will mean… “I Get Those Goosebumps Everytime” (Goosebumps, Travis Scott, feat. Kendrick Lamar, Birds in the Trap Sing Mcknight, 2016). This is how you know! A little extra for ya, when I went to look up the info for my first Hip Hop citation it was 11:11 lol there they go again… its really a cool feeling!

Can someone tell me if that APA or MLA…?? Ya know what!! Eff IT!! None of my writing is orthodox, besides I kinda like the way I did it haha

Kid Cudi’s new video just dropped and I couldn’t be more amazed with all of the hidden messages that are in there. He is officially the man on the moon. Passion pain and demon slaying like a maniac on the pursuit of happiness. Love that DUDE!!

That’s all I got for 12-16-2020 Five More Days…

LOVE & PEACE

Songs

Heaven On Earth – Kid Cudi

Goosebumps – Travis Scott, feat. Kendrick Lamar

Dirty Heads – Sound Of Change

 Just so you know the only thing I added this time other the cleaning up what I had already written was the praying part. Although I originally remember that being the purpose as to why I wrote what I did looking at it today March 2nd 2021 it wasn’t there… have a great day everyone. Ill post this on 3/3/2021

I've added parts to the story on my business cards and will leave then random places, what you do with them is up to you but I think It would be cool for those who want to stop me to have to work extra hard just like they make me!!  

LOVE

[ranger-report]

Review: SPELUNKY 2 (2020)

Few things in the Year of the Apocalypse have brought us joy; once upon a time back in February, there was something about a Sonic the Hedgehog movie that people actually liked, and then we went full-on deep into madness. From there it was disappointment after disappointment; even an unstoppable giant with hype, The Last of Us: Part II fell apart under fan scrutiny despite huge critical success.

But then, there was light: Fall Guys, a true underdog of a game, released and swept the internet and gaming as a whole with excitement. Joyous, colorful, wild, aggravating, Fall Guys single-handed brought catharsis to a series of unfortunate events, followed by a masterpiece of deception, Among Us. Also capturing colorful characters in the most unlikely of situations, Among Us is the game of Secret Hitler that nobody knew they wanted, ruining friendships along the way -- a game I plan to do a write-up on soon. And yet, we still have another gem to consider now, one which is seven years in the making, and against all odds is just as good -- if not better -- than it’s predecessor: Spelunky 2.

Once upon a time, a developer named Derek Yu released a pixellated exploration game that was a love letter to Pitfall and Indiana Jones. Dubbed Spelunky, it followed the trials and tribulations of the Spelunky Guy as he dove headfirst into a series of ever-changing caverns as he explored mines, jungles, icy caves, and Egyptian ruins to discover the City of Gold. It was released free online, and was well-received enough for Yu to work on an upgraded version, Spelunky HD. Gone were the retro pixels, replaced with detailed cartoon art and vibrant atmosphere. Telling the same story with the same levels, only now realized in higher quality and deeper secrets, Spelunky HD helped create the roguelike genre, in which players start at the beginning of a game with nothing, slowly make their way through the game amassing items and weapons to assist them, but death takes them all the way back to the beginning pockets empty. Then, the game randomly generates a new series of levels for the player to try again, ensuring no two runs are ever the same. For some this is frustrating, for others an endearing challenge. Many have spent hours diving deep into the game, searching over and over for its most hidden secrets, discovering hidden paths and endings only achieved through insanely difficult methods. With that game cemented as a bona fide masterpiece, it seemed daunting to even consider a follow up, but Yu and development team Mossmouth have done it once more with Spelunky 2, a game that feels tighter, plays looser, and somehow holds even more secrets than the first game, partially due in part to the sequel having actual lore to follow and a story that literally is out of this world. Here the protagonist is Ana Spelunky, daughter of Guy Spelunky (the titular Spelunky Guy....the game is full of dad jokes like these), as she followers her adventurous father and mother to the moon as they have disappeared there. Turns out the Olmec guardian defeated in the first game also has a presence on Earth’s satellite, and the Spelunkys have vanished in their quest to research this. So Ana, full of spunk and vigor and dog Monty in tow, steps into the spotlight on a completely new adventure, along with completely new friends.

Where the first game gave players options to discover and unlock new characters during the course of the game, Spelunky 2 treats these side characters as actual companions. A base camp at the start shows life and livelihood where everyone beds down and preps for the next expedition, where shortcuts to different stages can be traversed (once properly unlocked) and dialogue can be had. There’s a simple joy just to stand around and see everyone you’ve unlocked hanging out, walking around, as more and more beds occupy the camp. It’s a very subtle way of showing player progress that is both incredibly rewarding and relieving. And for the most part, it’s the same essence of gameplay. Explore levels filled with creatures out to kill you, while collecting gold and rescuing animals. Gold can buy resources from the shops located in the levels, animals give you a kiss for extra health, but only if they make it to the end alive. Meanwhile, the areas are loaded with traps, bombs, hidden monsters, jars filled with any number of surprises, and bonus areas that can be unlocked with the proper use of a rope or a bomb. But tarry too long and the ghost that haunts this world will reveal itself, slowly stalking you until either you reach the end of the level or there’s nowhere else to run.

Differences with the new game come in gentle shocks: for starters, where the first game had a linear progression this one has multiple pathways that can be taken to get to the end. And minibosses! Journeying through the opening caves, divided into four sections, leads to a confrontation against a giant caveman named Quillback in World 1-4, which leads to a pair of doors, one on either side of the level. First time playing through might lead to discovering one of the doors due to the way they’re split apart, but casual exploration to the opposite side reveals the truth: a whole new world. One door leads to Volcana, the underground mining operation in a volcano, the other leads to the Jungle, which has received deadly upgrades from it’s previous life. Spelunky 2 is littered with these gentle shocks as I mentioned above: golden idols still set off traps when picked up, but the traps now vary from falling pillars to explosive lava to spiked walls. Beyond the Jungle and Volcana lies a boss fight with Olmec, making a surprise appearance early in the game. And from here the game moves ever onward, revealing new areas, new characters to unlock, new surprises. And the surprises are telegraphed even better than they were in the first game. For example: unlock a special box with a golden key in the Caves to gather the Eye of Udjat, which lets you see through the floor. But the Eye can also be used to start up the Drill in Volcana, the only way to power it. What happens when you use the drill? Gentle shocks, indeed. New ideas also include mounts to ride (once tamed, which can leave you vulnerable for a moment while you wait for the ride to settle), each one having a different attack or special ability, and brand new shops which can let you into their back rooms to loot...unless you have a skeleton key and you want to risk pissing them off by breaking and entering. But pissing off a shopkeeper usually results in guns blazing your direction, and the imminent threat of death.

Death is in abundance. The game knows it, you know it, the characters know it. With a premise around the idea that death is impermanent while inside the tunnels of the moon, it becomes eventual that the characters get in on the act. Turning the page in Ana’s journal on the game over screen reveals little thoughts of hers on this leg of the journey: from base facts such as when she first took damage, to giggly details like “I was vegan” (referring to the fact that she didn’t eat any turkeys or -- god help us -- cavemen for extra health), the game brims over with character aplenty. Even certain guardians refer to Ana as “Reborn” nodding to the endless cycle. And, in fact, it is endless: it keeps going and going and going until eventually there is the final level and the escape from the moon. But how long will it take to get there? What sacrifices must be made to make it that far? How many loops, deaths, rebirths? As always with Spelunky, there is gold both figurative and literal to be mined from the ruthless exploration. Secrets are deep and wide, surprises await around every corner (was that a LEPRECHAUN and did it drop a FOUR LEAF CLOVER??? And did that ghost just sPLIT into FOUr???), and all of it is rewarding.

It can be difficult to review a game that I haven’t finished. A lot of Spelunky players have never finished the game. There’s a certain finesse to it, watching speedrunners bounce through levels undaunted, gathering miracle items to assist them. Then there’s players like me, that bumble and stumble their way into lucky runs and slowly earn shortcuts to different worlds. It’s a gamble every single time, and sometimes I wonder why I do it, but the charm and the fun and the fist-pumping feeling of success against all odds is what makes this game so much fun. And to think that Mossmouth not only captured the feeling of the first game, the majesty of it, and renewed all of that magic with the second. Someone made a blood sacrifice to craft this game, that much is for sure. As of this writing, the Playstation 4 version has been out for a few weeks, and the PC version for only a few days. After playing both I can confirm that they are precise, concise, and play exactly the same, although I do feel I had slightly better control response times on the PC. That said, online co-op is not yet available for PC, as Mossmouth is going over that aspect with a fine toothed comb. Having playing online day one for the PS4, I can say that the hiccups experienced then will be best served through Mossmouth’s attention first. Online play has become much smoother since, but players deserve the best experience off the jump.

Spelunky 2 is mana from heaven in these trying times, and I’m gobbling as much of it as I can. And when a game like this is is this deep and wide, there’s a lot to gobble...and all of it is tasty.

Final Score: 9/10

[iwanthermidnightz]

“Not a shot. Not a single chance. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Taylor Swift — who, at 30, has reached a Zen state of cheerful realism — laughs as she leans into a pillow she’s placed over her crossed legs inside her suite at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, leaning further still into her infinitesimal odds of winning a Golden Globe, which will zero out when she heads down to the televised ball in a few hours.

Never mind whether or not the tune she co-wrote, “Beautiful Ghosts,” might actually have been worthy of a trophy for best original song (or shortlisted for an Oscar, which it was not). Since the Globe nominations were revealed, voters could hardly have been immune to how quickly the film it’s a part of, “Cats,” in which she also co-stars, became a whipping boy for jokes about costly Hollywood miscalculations and creative disasters. Not that you’ll hear Swift utter a discouraging word about it all. “I’m happy to be here, happy to be nominated, and I had a really great time working on that weird-ass movie,” she declares. “I’m not gonna retroactively decide that it wasn’t the best experience. I never would have met Andrew Lloyd Webber or gotten to see how he works, and now he’s my buddy. I got to work with the sickest dancers and performers. No complaints.”

If this leads you to believe that the pop superstar is in the business of sugarcoating things, consider her other new movie — a vastly more significant documentary that presents Swift not just sans digital fur but without a whole lot of the varnish of the celebrity-industrial complex. The Netflix-produced “Taylor Swift: Miss Americana” has a prestige slot as the Jan. 23 opening night gala premiere of the Sundance Film Festival before it reaches the world as a day-and-date theatrical release and potential streaming monster on Jan. 31.

The doc spends much of its opening act juxtaposing the joys of creation with the aggravations of global stardom — the grist of many a pop doc, if rendered in especially intimate detail — before taking a more provocative turn in its last reel to focus more tightly on how and why Swift became a political animal. It’s the story of an earnest young woman with a self-described “good girl” fixation working through her last remaining fears of being shamed as she comes to embrace her claws, and her causes.

Given that the film portrays how gradually, and sometimes reluctantly, Swift came to place herself into service as a social commentator, “Miss Americana” is a portrait of the birth of an activist. Director Lana Wilson sets the movie up so that it pivots on a couple of big letdowns for its subject. The first comes early in the film, and early in the morning, when Swift’s publicist calls to update her on how many of the top three Grammy categories her 2017 album “Reputation” is nominated for: zilch. She’s clearly bummed about the record’s brushoff by the awards’ nominating committee, as just about anyone who’d previously won album of the year twice would be, and determinedly tells her rep that she’s just going to make a better record.

But she suffers what feels like a more meaningful blow toward the end of the film. In the fall of 2018, Swift finally comes out of the closet politically to intervene on behalf of Democrats in a midterm election in her home state of Tennessee. As the Washington Post put it, this announcement “fell like a hammer across the Trump-worshipping subforums of the far-right Internet, where people had convinced themselves… that the world-famous pop star was a secret MAGA fan.” Donald Trump goes on camera to smirk that he now likes Swift’s music a little less. The singer is successful in enlisting tens of thousands of young people to register to vote, but her senatorial candidate of choice, Democrat Phil Bredesen, loses to Republican Marsha Blackburn, whom she’d called out as a flagrant enemy of feminism and gay rights.

“Definitely, that was a bigger disappointment for me,” Swift says, pitting the midterm snub against the Grammy snub. “I think what’s going on out in the world is bigger than who gets a prize at the party.”

It was not always thus for Swift — as the detractors who dragged her for staying quiet during the last presidential election eagerly pointed out. If you had to pick the most embarrassing or regrettable moment in “Miss Americana,” it might be the TV clip from “The Late Show With David Letterman” in which the host brings up politics and gets Swift to essentially advocate the “Shut up and sing” mantra. As the studio audience roars approval of her vow to stay apolitical, Letterman gives her what now looks like history’s most dated fist bump.

Thinking back on it, Swift is incredulous. “Every time I didn’t speak up about politics as a young person, I was applauded for it,” she says. “It was wild. I said, ‘I’m a 22-year-old girl — people don’t want to hear what I have to say about politics.’ And people would just be like, ‘Yeahhhhh!’”

At that point, Swift was already starting to record isolated pop tracks, taking baby steps that would soon turn into full strides away from her initial genre. But whether she had designs on switching lanes or not, the lesson of the Dixie Chicks’ forced exile after Natalie Maines’ comment against then-President George W. Bush had branded itself onto her brain at an earlier age, when she’d just planted her young-teen flag in Nashville and overheard a lot of the lamentations of older Music Row songwriters about how the Chicks had thrown it all away.

“I saw how one comment ended such a powerful reign, and it terrified me,” says Swift. “These days, with social media, people can be so mad about something one day and then forget what they were mad about a couple weeks later. That’s fake outrage. But what happened to the Dixie Chicks was real outrage. I registered it — that you’re always one comment away from being done being able to make music.”

Maybe the most transfixing scene in “Miss Americana” is one where Swift argues with her father and other members of her team about the statement she’s about to release coming out against Blackburn and — it’s clear from her references to White House opposition to the Equality Act — Donald Trump too. The comments were so spontaneous that Wilson wasn’t there to film the moment, but the director had asked people to turn on the camera if anything interesting transpired, and here it most certainly did.

“For 12 years, we’ve not got involved in politics or religion,” an unnamed associate says to Swift, suggesting that going down the road of standing against a president as well as Republican gubernatorial and Senate candidates could have the effect of halving her audience on tour. Her father chimes in: “I’ve read the entire [statement] and … right now, I’m terrified. I’m the guy that went out and bought armored cars.”

“I needed to get to a point where I was ready, able and willing to call out bullshit rather than just smiling my way through it.” TAYLOR SWIFT

But Swift is adamant about pressing the button to send a nearly internet-breaking Instagram post, saying that Blackburn has voted against reauthorizing the Violence Against Women Act as well as LGBTQ-friendly bills: “I can’t see another commercial [with] her disguising these policies behind the words ‘Tennessee Christian values.’ I live in Tennessee. I am Christian. That’s not what we stand for.” Pushing back tears, she laments not having come out against Trump two years earlier, “but I can’t change that. … I need to be on the right side of history. … Dad, I need you to forgive me for doing it, because I’m doing it.”

Says Swift now, “This was a situation where, from a humanity perspective, and from what my moral compass was telling me I needed to do, I knew I was right, and I really didn’t care about repercussions.” She understands why she faced such heated opposition in the room: “My dad is terrified of threats against my safety and my life, and he has to see how many stalkers we deal with on a daily basis, and know that this is his kid. It’s where he comes from.”

Swift was recently announced as the recipient of a Vanguard Award from GLAAD, and she name-checked the org in her basher-bashing single “You Need to Calm Down,” which was released as one of the teaser tracks for last fall’s more outwardly directed and socially conscious “Lover” album. Part of her politicization, she says, is feeling it would be hypocritical to hang out with her gay friends while leaving them to their own devices politically. In the film, she says, “I think it is so frilly and spineless of me to stand onstage and go ‘Happy Pride Month, you guys,’ and then not say this, when someone’s literally coming for their neck.”

A year and a half later, she elaborates: “To celebrate but not advocate felt wrong for me. Using my voice to try to advocate was the only choice to make. Because I’ve talked about equality and sung about it in songs like ‘Welcome to New York,’ but we are at a point where human rights are being violated. When you’re saying that certain people can be kicked out of a restaurant because of who they love or how they identify, and these are actual policies that certain politicians vocally stand behind, and they disguise them as family values, that is sinister. So, so dark.”

Her increasing alignment with the LGBTQ community wasn’t the only thing raising her consciousness to a breaking — i.e., speaking — point. So did the sexual assault trial in which judgment was rendered that she had been groped by a DJ in a backstage photo op (for financial restitution, Swift had asked for $1).

Her experience with the trial was crucial, she says, in finding herself “needing to speak up about beliefs I’d always had, because it felt like an opportunity to shed light on what those trials are like. I experienced it as a person with extreme privilege, so I can only imagine what it’s like when you don’t have that. And I think one theme that ended up emerging in the film is what happens when you are not just a people pleaser but someone who’s always been respectful of authority figures, doing what you were supposed to do, being polite at all costs. I still think it’s important to be polite, but not at all costs,” she says. “Not when you’re being pushed beyond your limits, and not when people are walking all over you. I needed to get to a point where I was ready, able and willing to call out bulls— rather than just smiling my way through it.”

That came into play when Kanye West stepped into her life and publicly shamed her a second time. In the video Kim Kardashian released in 2016, you can hear the people-pleasing Swift on the other end of the line sheepishly thanking him for letting her know about the “Me and Taylor might still have sex” line he plans to include about her in a song — only to regret it later when the eventual track also includes the claim “Why? I made that bitch famous.” The boast, of course, referred back to the moment when he interrupted her and stole her spotlight at the MTV VMAs six years earlier as she was in the middle of an acceptance speech. West’s is not a name that ever publicly escapes Swift’s lips, so it might be surprising to fans that these events are recapped in “Miss Americana,” although Swift says the filmic decisions were all up to the director, who explains that Swift’s reaction to the episode was important to include.

“With the 2009 VMAs, it surprised me that when she talked about how the whole crowd was booing, she thought that they were booing her, and how devastating that was,” says Wilson. “That was something I hadn’t thought about or heard before, and made it much more relatable and understandable to anyone.”

“I see the movie as looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart.” LANA WILSON, DIRECTOR OF “TAYLOR SWIFT: MISS AMERICANA”

Swift acknowledges how formative both incidents have been in her life, for ill and good. “As a teenager who had only been in country music, attending my very first pop awards show,” she says now, “somebody stood up and sent me the message: ‘You are not respected here. You shouldn’t be here on this stage.’ That message was received, and it burrowed into my psyche more than anyone knew. … That can push you one of two ways: I could have just curled up and decided I’m never going to one of those events ever again, or it could make me work harder than anyone expects me to, and try things no one expected, and crave that respect — and hopefully one day get it.

“But then when that person who sparked all of those feelings comes back into your life, as he did in 2015, and I felt like I finally got that respect (from West), but then soon realized that for him it was about him creating some revisionist history where he was right all along, and it was correct, right and decent for him to get up and do that to a teenage girl…” She sighs. “I understand why Lana put it in.”

Adds the woman who started her recent “Lover” album with a West-allusive romp that’s pointedly called “I Forgot That You Existed”: “I don’t think too hard about this stuff now.”

What’s not in the film is any mention of her other most famous nemeses — Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta of Big Machine Records, with whom she’s scrapped publicly for several months. “The Big Machine stuff happened pretty late in our process,” says Wilson. “We weren’t that far from picture lock. But there’s also not much to say that isn’t publicly known. I feel like Taylor’s put the story out there in her own words already, and it’s been widely covered. I was interested in telling the story that hadn’t been told before, that would be surprising and emotionally powerful to audiences whether they were music industry people or not.”

Still, the way Swift has been willing to stand up politically for others parallels the manner in which she stood up for herself in regard to Braun, et al., at the recent Billboard Women in Music Awards, where she gave an altogether blistering speech, naming names and taking no prisoners, going after the men who now control her six-album Big Machine back catalog. Certainly Swift was aware that, along with supporters, there were many friends and business associates of Braun among the VIPs in the Hollywood Palladium who would not be pleased with what this very reformed people-pleaser had to say.

One thing everyone who was in the room agrees on is that you could hear a pin drop as Swift used the speech to get even bolder about the meat of these disputes. Some would say it’s because they were riveted by her boldness in speaking truth to power, others because they just felt uncomfortable. Says one fellow honoree who works in a high position in the industry (and who’s worked with some high-profile Braun clients): “People were excited for her at the beginning of the speech. But once she started going in a negative direction at an event that is supposed to be celebrating accomplishments and rah-rah for women, I felt it fell flat with a good portion of the room, because it wasn’t the appropriate place to be saying it.”

Wasn’t it intimidating for Swift, knowing she might be polarizing an auditorium full of the most powerful people in the business? “Well, I do sleep well at night knowing that I’m right,” she responds, “and knowing that in 10 years it will have been a good thing that I spoke about artists’ rights to their art, and that we bring up conversations like: Should record deals maybe be for a shorter term, or how are we really helping artists if we’re not giving them the first right of refusal to purchase their work if they want to?”

“Obviously, anytime you’re standing up against or for anything, you’re never going to receive unanimous praise. But that’s what forces you to be brave. And that’s what’s different about the way I live my life now.” (Braun’s camp did not respond to a request for comment.)

One thing Taylor Swift can’t bend to her determined will is her family’s health. She revealed a few years ago that her mother, Andrea, a beloved figure among the thousands of fans who’ve met her at road shows, is battling breast cancer. Swift addressed the uncertainty of that struggle in an anguished song on her latest album, “Soon You’ll Get Better.” Many who view “Miss Americana” will look for signs of how her mom is doing. The subject comes up in a section of the film that includes a relatively light-hearted scene in in which it’s shown that one of Andrea Swift’s ways of saying “eff you” to cancer recently was to break the mold and bring a canine — her “cancer dog” — into a famously feline-friendly family.

The real answer may come in Swift’s touring activity for “Lover.” Whereas typically she’d spend nine months in the year after an album release on the road, she plans to limit herself to four stadium dates in America this summer and a trip around the festival circuit in Europe. This may not be 100% for personal reasons: “I wanted to be able to perform in places that I hadn’t performed in as much, and to do things I hadn’t done before, like Glastonbury,” she says. “I feel like I haven’t done festivals, really, since early in my career — they’re fun and bring people together in a really cool way. But I also wanted to be able to work as much as I can handle right now, with everything that’s going on at home. And I wanted to figure out a way that I could do both those things.”

Is being able to be there for her mother the main concern? “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the reason,” she says. “I mean, we don’t know what is going to happen. We don’t know what treatment we’re going to choose. It just was the decision to make at the time, for right now, for what’s going on.”

In her case, it’s as if her manager had taken seriously ill as well as the person she’s always been closest to, all at once. “Everyone loves their mom; everyone’s got an important mom,” she allows. “But for me, she’s really the guiding force. Almost every decision I make, I talk to her about it first. So obviously it was a really big deal to ever speak about her illness.” During filming, when Andrea’s breast cancer had returned for a second time, “she was going through chemo, and that’s a hard enough thing for a person to go through.” Then it got harder. Speaking about this latest development publicly for the first time, Swift quietly reveals: “While she was going through treatment, they found a brain tumor. And the symptoms of what a person goes through when they have a brain tumor is nothing like what we’ve ever been through with her cancer before. So it’s just been a really hard time for us as a family.”

Compared with that, nearly any other topic the movie might address would pale. But it finds weightiness in addressing other kinds of unhealthiness, like the physical expectations that are placed on women in general and celebrity women specifically, Swift being no exception. In this department, she has her own heroines. “I love people like Jameela Jamil, because he way she speaks about body image, it’s almost like she speaks in a hook. Women are held to such a ridiculous standard of beauty, and we’re seeing so much on social media that makes us feel like we are less than, or we’re not what we should be, that you kind of need a mantra to repeat in your head when you start to have unhealthy thoughts. I swear the way Jameela speaks is like lyrics — it gets stuck in my head and it calms me down.”

Swift’s collaborator in this messaging, Wilson, was on a list of potential directors Netflix gave her when she expressed interest in possibly doing a documentary to follow the concert special that premiered on the service just over a year ago. You could discern a feminist message, if you chose to, in the fact that Swift chose a director most well known for a documentary about abortion providers, “After Tiller.” Swift says she was most impressed, though, that Wilson’s docs look for nuance and subtlety in addressing subjects that do lend themselves to soapboxes, and their first conversation was about their mutual desire to avoid “propaganda” in any form.

If there’s a feminist agenda in “Miss Americana,” Wilson and Swift wanted it to emerge naturally, although the director admits it was pretty blatant from the outset, given that she set up the film (which is co-produced by Morgan Neville, the director’s “sounding board”) with an all-female crew. Or nearly all-female, says Wilson, laughing, “I will say that we did always have male production assistants, because I like trying to show people that men can fetch coffee for women.”

Adds Wilson, “When I started filming, it was before she’d come out politically. She knew that she was coming out of a very dark period, and wanted collaborate on something that captured what she was going through and that was really raw and honest and emotionally intimate.” The political awakening, the director says, “was a profound decision for her to make. In that, I saw this feminist coming of age story that I personally connected with, and that I really think women and girls around the world will see themselves in.”

“The bigger your career gets, the more you struggle with the idea that a lot of people see you the same way they see an iPhone or a Starbucks.” TAYLOR SWIFT

The film borrows its title from a song on the “Lover” album, “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” that’s maybe the one fully allegorical song Swift has ever released — and, in its fashion, is a great protest song. The entire lyric is a metaphor for how Swift grew up as an unblinking patriot and has had to reluctantly leave behind her naiveté in the age of Trump. Her partner on that track, as well as other message songs like “You Need to Calm Down” and “The Man,” was a co-writer and co-producer new to her stable of collaborators this time around, Joel Little.

With the song “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince,” although the lyrics are cloaked in metaphor, “We like to think it was a very clear statement,” Little says. “There are lots of little hidden messages within that song that are all pointing toward the way that she thinks and feels about politics and the United States. I love that it uses a lot of classic Taylor Swift imagery, in terms of the songwriting topics of high school and cheerleaders, as a clever nod to what she’s done in the past, but tied in with a heavy political message.”

“Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince” doesn’t actually appear in the documentary, but the director says the film’s title is understood by fans as an obvious reference to political themes in the number. “Even if you don’t know the song,” Wilson says, “I see the movie as looking at the flip side of being America’s sweetheart, so I like how the title evokes that too.”

The doc doesn’t lack for its own protest songs though. In the wake of her midterm disappointment, Swift is seen writing an anthem for millennials who might have come away disillusioned with the political process. That previously unheard song, “Only the Young,” is seen being demo-ed before it plays in full over the end credits; it’ll be released as a digital single in conjunction with the doc. Key lyric: ““You did all that you could do / The game was rigged, the ref got tricked/ The wrong ones think they’re right / We were outnumbered — this time.”

“One thing I think is amazing about her,” says Wilson, “is that she goes to the studio and to songwriting as a place to process what she’s going through. I loved how, when she got the Grammy news (about “Reputation”), this isn’t someone who’s going to feel sorry for herself or say ‘That wasn’t right.’ She’s like, ‘Okay, I’m going to work even harder.’ You see her strength of character in that moment when she gets that news. And then with the election results, I loved how she channeled so many of her thoughts and feelings into ‘Only the Young.’ It was a great way to kind of show how stuff that happens in her life goes directly into the songs; you get to witness that in both cases.

So is the film aimed at satisfying the fan base or teasing the unconvinced hordes who might dial it up as a free stream? “I think it’s a little bit of both,” Swift says. “I chose Netflix because it’s a very vast, accessible medium to people who are just like, ‘Hey, what’s this? I’m bored.’ I love that, because I do so many things that cater specifically to fans that like my music, I think it’s important to put yourself out there to people who don’t care at all about you.”

In the wake of the last round of Kanye-gate, stung by the backlash of those who took his side, Swift took a three-year break from interviews. The mantra of her 2017 album “Reputation” and subsequent tour was “No explanations.” But her Beyoncé-style press blackout was a passing phase. With “Lover” and now, especially, the documentary, she could hardly be more about the explanations. Although this interview is the only one she currently plans to do about the documentary, it’s clear that she’s come back into a season of openness, and that she considers it her natural habitat.

“I really like the whole discussion around music. And during ‘Reputation,’ it never felt like it was ever going to be about music, no matter what I said or did,” she says. “I approach albums differently, in how I want to show them to the world or what I feel comfortable with at that time in my life.” Being more transparent “feels great with this album. I really feel like I could just keep making stuff — it’s that vibe right now. I don’t think I’ve ever written this much. That’s exhibited in ‘Lover’ having the most songs that I’ve ever had on an album” (18, to be exact). “But even after I made the album, I kept writing and going in the studio. That’s a new thing I’ve experienced this time around. That openness kind of feels like you finally got the lid off a jar you’ve been working at for years.”

Cipher-dom never could have stood for long for someone who’s established herself as one of the most accomplished confessional singer-songwriters in pop history. “I don’t really operate very well as an enigma,” she says. “It’s not fulfilling to me. It works really well in a lot of pop careers, but I think that it makes me feel completely unable to do what I had gotten in this to do, which is to communicate to people. I live for the feeling of standing on a stage and saying, ‘I feel this way,’ and the crowd responding with ‘We do too!’ And me being like, ‘Really?’ And they’re like, ‘Yes!’”

Swift believes talking things up again isn’t a form of giving in to narcissism — it’s a way of warding off commodification.

“The bigger your career gets, the more you struggle with the idea that a lot of people see you the same way they see an iPhone or a Starbucks,” she muses. “They’ve been inundated with your name in the media, and you become a brand. That’s inevitable for me, but I do think that it’s really necessary to feel like I can still communicate with people. And as a songwriter, it’s really important to still feel human and process things in a human way. The through line of all that is humanity, and reaching out and talking to people and having them see things that aren’t cute.

[alittlebitweird4]

Heart of a Monster (Fraxus Fantasy AU) - FT Reverse Bang 2020

I am so excited to show off my piece for the Fairy Tail Reverse Bang hosted by @ftguildevents ! This was my first time participating in something like this and I had a blast! My fanfiction is based on fanart created by the amazingly talented @fairiesherefairiesthere which you can check out here. I have been wanting to write something like this but didn’t know where to start but their piece and ideas gave me the inspiration that I needed. I am really proud of how it came out (although there are other things I would have added in if I had the time). Regardless, I hope y’all enjoy this. Thanks so much to my fabulous beta reader @onyxbaku (Twitter) who, among other things, helped me get Laxus to sound more Laxus-y.

Synopsis:

Freed is a peaceful spirit living on the outskirts of the kingdom of Magnolia. Frightened by this mystical being and misunderstanding his intentions, the humans gather a mob to vanquish the spirit. After a difficult battle, the humans successfully capture the spirit’s heart; however, instead of killing him, this act transforms the once kind spirit into a horrible monster. The king sends his strongest knight, Laxus to finish the job. But Laxus ends up growing closer to Freed than he expected.

Genres: fanfiction, AU, fantasy, BL

You can read the story on Wattpad, AO3, or under the cut. Enjoy and remember to check out all the other amazing entries for this event~

Prologue~

Once upon a time, a spirit was said to be lurking on the outskirts of the kingdom of Magnolia. The humans, frightened by this foreign presence, plead to their king for protection. When the king brushed aside their fears, they decided to take matters into their own hands. A group of villagers headed up the mountain with the intention of capturing the spirit’s heart as a trophy and as a warning to other paranormal entities. 

“Freed! They’re coming!” Evergreen shouted, pointing at the mob ascending the mountain - a pulsing mass of fire and anger approaching the castle.

“My babies and I can take care of them,” Bickslow announced, raising up the wooden dolls which contained the souls he controlled.

“Hold your attacks,” Freed replied calmly.

With a loud bang, the door came down and the humans flooded into the castle. Freed remained seated, Bickslow and Evergreen on either side of him ready to spring into action if needed.

“Monsters!” a man yelled, stepping forward from the group with a sword in his hand.

“Rude,” Evergreen muttered, earning a glare from Freed.

“This is your chance to get far away from here and never bother us again. Otherwise…” the man said, raising his sword, “we’ll take matters into our own hands.”

“Yeah! Tell them, Trevor!” The villagers cheered the man on.

“We have no quarrel with your people. We do not wish to fight you,” Freed replied.

“What? I do!” Bickslow retaliated, his babies chanting “Fight! Fight!” as they floated around him.

The crowd gasped. One young man, in horrified disbelief, said, “It’s true! A soul-stealing demon!”

“Bickslow!” Freed reprimanded. Bickslow replied with a nervous laugh, realizing that he had made the situation worse.

“A-and I hear the woman is a witch!” the young man continued.

“Witch?” Evergreen gasped. “Who’s going around calling me a witch?! I’m clearly a beautiful fairy!”

“That leader must be really terrifying to be able to give orders to a demon and a witch.”

“I’m not a witch!”

“Then let’s cut off the head of the snake!” The first man, Trevor, cheered. He charged into battle with the rest of the mob quickly following suit.

Freed sighed. “Please, we do not want to hurt you. We only wish to continue on with our lives here in peace.” He was drowned out by the commotion. The mob was on them in full force and Evergreen and Bickslow were beginning to fight back. “Evergreen, Bickslow, do not kill or maim anyone. Do only what you must to survive. Don’t let them turn us into monst-” his words were cut short by a dagger plunging into his chest. He looked down to see the same terrified young man from earlier.

“Take its heart as a prize, Michael!” someone called to the boy. The young human reached into Freed’s chest and pulled out his heart. He held up his prize hesitantly to the rest of the mob, who cheered violently. Bickslow and Evergreen screamed and tried to run to Freed through the mob.

Thunder rumbled. The castle shook. Instead of dying, Freed began to transform. He let out a guttural scream as he grew in size and sprouted giant horns. The hole where his heart had been glowed, the pulsing light mimicking the lost heartbeat.

“Freed!” Evergreen finally reached her friend; however, the greeting she received was not friendly by any means. The newly transformed Freed reached out and mercilessly plucked the fairy’s wings. As Evergreen screeched in pain, she was covered in glowing purple runes. When the glowing subsided, she was gone.

The mob looked around in terror. “Up there!” someone shouted, pointing at a window. Evergreen was trapped in the stained glass, her magic separated from her and secured in a second window.

“Freed… what did you do?” Bickslow’s horrified shock quickly turned into anger and he charged. Freed picked each of the flying dolls out of the air. “My babies!” Before Bickslow could transfer the souls or do anything else to fight back, he too was covered in those glowing purple runes. On the wall facing Evergreen’s windows, Bickslow and his babies occupied two more.

The humans fled the castle as quickly as they could, trampling over each other in panic. Some of them were captured by the monster. Those who made it out ran back home without a look back at the castle. Their mission was a success, but had an unexpected outcome. Instead of dying, the spirit was transformed into a terrible monster. 

The young man who had wrenched the spirit's heart from his chest went to the king for help. He described truthfully what had happened and what he had done, not sparing any gruesome details of the ensuing transformation and violence.

The king instructed his subject to bury the heart and to not spread his story. The monarch's worst fears were coming true and he wished to sweep everything under the rug as quickly as possible. So, to fix the mess, he decided to call in the local magical knight to quickly dispose of the demon.

1~

Laxus smiled smugly, quite satisfied with himself. He had just come from a meeting during which the king begged for his help. There was just something about having royalty bow down to him instead of the other way around. He supposed it was just another perk of being the resident magical knight. 

After preparing some supplies, he set out from the small town in the direction of the ominous castle whose occupant had been making the locals uneasy. The closer he got, the more he could feel the darkness emanating from the place. Heh. I'm gonna show this demon who's boss, Laxus thought with a smirk. The prospect of putting a horrible monster in its place got his blood pumping with excitement and confidence.

Standing in front of the castle door, he took a deep breath. Then, he stormed in with a flash of lightning. Subtlety was never his strong suit. However, as soon as he passed the threshold, he found himself caught in a trap of glowing purple runes. He writhed in pain, feeling as if his very life force was being drained by the runes. He soon found out that it wasn’t his life force, but rather his magic that was being ripped from him. His eyes followed a beam of bright light from his body to the stained glass windows lining the room. He watched in horror as the pattern on one of the windows became that of lighting bolts - Laxus’ magic. It appeared that several other magical abilities, and even a couple of people, had been trapped here as well. On one side, a woman looked down at him in anguish from her stained glass prison. Next to her was a pattern of wings, which Laxus guessed had once belonged to her. Opposite the woman was a man in a helmet. Laxus wondered if this man had been another knight sent in to do this job; however, he quickly dismissed the thought as nothing else about the man suggested knighthood. Beside the helmet-wearing man was a window panel containing some sort of wooden creatures.

What happened here? Laxus wondered in disgusted horror as the last of his power was drained from him. He could hear heavy footsteps descending the stairs and coming towards him. His head was spinning and he was in pain but he managed to make out the sight of a towering figure with large horns and a gaping hole in its chest. The demon smiled sickly at his new prey. The glistening fangs and cold eyes were the last things Laxus saw before everything went black.

2~

When Laxus finally came to, those horrible images he had witnessed came flooding back to him. Drowning in nightmares, he gasped for air. After a few desperate breaths, he finally calmed down enough to take in his surroundings. He noticed a square of runes on the ground around him. He reached out his arm and the runes came shooting up, forming a glowing cage and singeing his hand upon contact. “Shit, that actually hurt!” he complained.

A deep, slow chuckle sounded in response to his pain. Laxus looked up to see the same demon he had glimpsed earlier. The creature was sitting on a throne and wearing an expression like that of a cat playing with a mouse.

Laxus swallowed his fear and stood up, locking eyes with the creature before him. “Demon! I have been sent here by my king to vanquish you once and for all,” his voice resonated clearly and loudly through the castle.

“Is that so? And how is that going for you?” The creature retorted with a smirk. “You have no magic and can’t leave that square. You will be my plaything until you rot or until I grow bored of you.” His voice was gravelly and distorted. Whatever this creature was he did not look or sound human. Laxus recalled some of the old wives’ tales he’d heard about people who’d had their souls stolen and wondered if this was what they turned into.

Laxus’ eye twitched slightly with anger at being belittled by the demon. “I’ll find a way out,” he declared with cool arrogance, though he knew deep down that the odds were not in his favour. “And when I do, watch out. I’m going to make sure that you never terrorize any humans again.”

The demon chuckled at Laxus’ baseless optimism, a horrible sound that somehow resembled that of breaking glass. “Whatever you say… hero,” the last word was dripping with so much venom that Laxus shuddered involuntarily.

Growing bored of Laxus, the demon turned and left up the staircase. Long green hair and a cape adorned with stars flowed behind him. Laxus could imagine children wishing upon stars at night only for this demon to pluck those stars out of the sky and wear those shattered dreams.

“Hey! Come back here!” Laxus called into the empty space where the demon had been. He was alone, with only the terrified faces frozen in the stained glass to keep him company.

3~

The following morning, Laxus woke from a shallow and restless sleep on the cold hard floor of the castle. He was startled by the sight of the demon looming over him, studying him.

“Are you finally gonna let me out of here so we can settle this like men?” Laxus asked.

“You don’t see me as a man. Only as a monster,” the demon’s distorted voice made Laxus feel sick. He couldn’t argue with that statement. The demon retreated back to his throne from which he observed his prey.

“So… who are they?” Laxus asked, gesturing to the stained glass, trying to make conversation. “Those are real people in there, right?”

“I think… I think they were my... friends?” The word “friends” was the last thing that Laxus had expected to hear and sounded especially wrong coming out of the demon’s mouth.

“Some friend you are,” Laxus muttered.

“What was that?”

“If that’s how you treat your friends, I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me,” the knight said sarcastically, his cocky optimism returning.

The light emanating from the hole in the demon’s chest grew brighter and pulsed rapidly. “You know nothing,” he said angrily.

“So what did your ‘friends’ call you?” Laxus asked flippantly, ignoring the creature’s growing anger. “You must have a name, right?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Huh? Then what do people call you?”

“No one is calling me anything now,” he gestured to the stained glass. After a pause he added, “I think I had a name at some point. I can’t remember it now though and it is not important,” as he spoke, his tone grew angrier.

“It really bothers you doesn’t it?”

“Do not mock me, human.”

“Geez, don’t be so sensitive. I wasn’t-” The demon waved his hand and the runes glowed, causing Laxus to fall asleep mid sentence.

4~

Even after several days, Laxus still was not accustomed to waking up on the castle floor. “Why haven’t you just killed me by now?” Laxus asked, his voice coarse and weak from lack of food and water.

“I… don’t know.”

“All you ever say is ‘I don’t know.’ What the fuck do you know, then?” Ignoring the demon’s angry growls he continued, “Wait a minute… you can’t kill me. That’s the only reason that makes sense. You can’t kill me, can you?” The demon’s silence confirmed Laxus’ suspicions. “So why not, then? You have me trapped here, starving to death, because you’re too weak to kill me yourself? Is that it?”

“I told you I DON’T KNOW,” the demon roared, the light in his chest pulsing angrily.

“What, you got amnesia? Did you hit your oversized head?”

"I… didn't fight back,” he spoke slowly.

Laxus raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“When the humans came… I… didn’t fight back,” he sounded confused as if even he himself couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t fight back against attackers.

"Bull. Shit," Laxus taunted, angering the demon further. "I saw the guys who confronted you. Given the shape they were in you can't honestly tell me you were a gracious host."

The creature thought for a moment but it seemed as though he couldn’t fully remember or understand what had transpired on that day. “What does it matter?” He asked angrily. He paused and sighed before asking, “Did I kill any of them?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t know.”

Laxus sighed, then thought for a moment. The people who had come running back from the castle had been injured but not fatally, and those unlucky few who had been captured eventually found their way back as well. “No. I think everyone managed to survive.”

“Why didn’t I kill them?”

“Why the hell are you asking me?”

The demon slumped in his throne and took a deep breath. “I… don’t know who I am. When the humans came… they changed me.”

“What do you mean changed?”

“What happened exactly is foggy. I don’t even know when it happened, though I can guess based on your arrival and… the visions.”

“Visions?”

“Pieces of that day. They’ve been coming back to me in fragments. Those two,” he gestured to the figures in the stained glass, “they stood by me. I told them not to fight. I don’t know why I did that,” he spoke as though he was trying to recount someone else’s memories. “One of the humans - a young man - he charged at me. I felt a wave of anger and then… nothing. The next thing I remember is seeing humans fleeing back towards the kingdom.”

“So you conveniently don’t remember any of the things that you did. The things that put dozens of people in the hospital.Your story is that humans stormed into your castle and attacked you and your ‘friends’ unprovoked. One young guy came at you, a towering demon, and busted you up so bad you blacked out. And then they all decided to run away?”

“I know how it sounds but that is the truth. I don’t care if you don’t believe me. Your opinion does not matter.”

“Well if you really believed that you wouldn’t be keeping me around for these meaningless conversations,” Laxus muttered.

After a pause, the demon added, “I don’t think I was always… like this. That boy… he took something from me.”

“Oh so the big bad humans stole from you too?”

The demon, lost in thought and grappling with his hazy memories, ignored Laxus’ snide remark. He hesitantly brought a hand up to the hole in his chest. “There was something here,” he said in a faraway voice.

“Your heart?” Laxus asked, puzzled.

“Heart?”

“Ya know the organ in a person’s chest that pumps blood through their body? The thing people associate with kindness and… love.”

“Love? What is that?”

“You don’t know what love is?”

The demon shook his head.

“Well I guess it’s like… a feeling,” Laxus blushed. He wasn’t easily flustered but then again he had never before found himself having to explain love to a demon. “Like you would do anything for someone because… they mean the world to you and make you feel… whole.”

The demon touched the hole where his heart had presumably once been.

5~

“Hey! Restore my magic,” Laxus demanded boldly.

The demon chuckled. “Why do you suppose I do that?”

“If you don’t, then I’ll have a harder time marching into that town and getting your heart back,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“You would do that?”

“Of course. They had no right to take it from you in the first place.”

“But if I give you back your power, then there’s nothing to guarantee that you will return. What is stopping you from leaving here and never coming back? Or coming back with an army to kill me?” Freed asked, skeptically.

“I’m a man of my word.”

“You gave your word to your king that you would kill me.”

“No, I gave him my word that I would take care of the problem. I get your heart back and you stop being all monster-y, right?”

“I think so.”

“Eh, good enough,” Laxus shrugged, smiling slightly. Noticing that the demon still had reservations he added, “Trust me.”

The demon sighed. Suddenly, Laxus’ skin crawled with purple runes.

“What the hell?” Laxus exclaimed. Though he shortly began feeling reinvigorated. He saw the lightning pattern disappearing from the stained glass and felt the familiar tingle of electricity sparking in his veins.

“Your magic has been returned to you,” the demon said, eyeing Laxus warily.

“Oh yeah I feel stronger now! Time to go get that heart,” Laxus declared. “I wish I knew what to call you.”

“I think my name was… Freed.”

“Okay, then. See you soon, Freed.”

“See you soon…”

“Laxus. Laxus Dreyar.”

6~

“I demand an audience with the king!” Laxus easily pushed through the palace guards.

“Oh, Laxus! You’re back! Does that mean the mission was a success? Is that horrid monster finally dead?” The king asked hopefully.

“He’s only a monster because you people made him one!”

“Preposterous! I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Yeah right,” Laxus scoffed. “That’s the reason you just sent me, right? You wanted it done quickly and quietly.”

“I don’t like your tone, Laxus. You should show respect to your king.”

“Ha! Then you should be a king worthy of respect.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’ll let myself out. If you’re not gonna give me answers then you’re just in my way.”

Laxus stormed out of the castle, fuming. His quest wasn’t going as smoothly as expected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure.

“Michael.”

The boy jumped and attempted to avoid Laxus’ gaze.

“Michael… you were there, right? At the demon castle? Tell me what happened that day.” Remembering the anguished look on Freed’s face, he grew more desperate. “Please,”  he added sincerely.

Michael was shocked at the desperation in Laxus’ voice. “Well…” he began, “one of the men from the village said he was gathering a mob to take care of a spirit living on the outskirts of the kingdom. Spirits make a lot of people anxious and the king wasn’t doing anything about it. So a group of us went to the old castle where the spirit has been seen. I honestly didn’t actually expect to see anyone… but the spirit was there with his two friends. The spirit didn’t want to fight. I… I think I messed up, Laxus.”

“What did you do, Michael?”

“I took the spirit’s heart,” his voice was trembling and barely audible. He swallowed hard then continued with his story. “I made everything worse. He didn’t die. He… changed. He got bigger and scarier and… so much angrier. He even attacked his own friends.” Tears started to form in the boy’s eyes.

Hearing Freed’s story confirmed renewed Laxus’ motivation. “Where is his heart?”

“The king told me to bury it. I’m not even supposed to be telling anyone this story. Wait… you’re not-”

“Working for the king? I’m supposed to be. But I went to the castle and saw what became of that spirit. He’s in pain, Michael. I won’t turn you in to the king. I just want to fix this mess. So… where did you bury the heart?”

“I didn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to just cover up the mess I made and pretend it never happened.” Michael disappeared into his home and came back out shortly clutching a wooden box. He looked around nervously, checking for anyone who might be watching, before handing the box to Laxus.

“Thank you, Michael.”

Michael nodded. As Laxus was turning to leave, the younger man added, “Please… tell him I’m sorry.”

“Will do.”

7~

The king must have expected Laxus would retrieve Freed’s heart. The royal army surrounded the kingdom’s border, blocking Laxus’ path to Freed.

“How could you side with a monster, Laxus?” One of the knights implored.

“How could you?” Laxus retorted. “Your king is a liar. The only monster out there was created by the people of this kingdom. Get out of my way so I can fix this mess.”

“Stand down, Laxus,” the head knight warned, brandishing his sword. It made Laxus laugh.

“You really think you can stop me? I can crush you all like mere ants under my boot.”

On their leader’s command, the army charged at Laxus. Laxus retaliated with lightning. A sword caught him in the arm, but it didn’t slow him down. On the contrary, it angered him and drove him to fight harder. “This is for Freed,” he said, knocking down the knights in his way with a bolt of lightning.

Laxus broke through the barricade and ran on autopilot to the castle, clutching the wooden box tightly to his chest.

8~

Laxus crashed through the door, panting after having run all the way up the mountain.

“You came back,” Freed marveled.

“Of course… I did,” Laxus said, still trying to catch his breath. He held up the box triumphantly. However, the smug look on his face quickly disappeared. “Shit. Someone’s coming. They must have followed me.”

“Who followed you?”

Freed’s question was answered by the royal army bursting through the door of the castle.

“They did,” Laxus answered. He tucked the box away in his coat and prepared to fight.

Seeing that Laxus was outnumbered, Freed made a decision. The stained glass glowed brightly and two people came out of it. The two looked at Freed, then at the army. Though disoriented, they did not hesitate to back up Laxus in defending their old friend.

“Laxus,” one of the knights began, “if you’re going to defend monsters then you will be vanquished like one!”

“Oh we are not the monsters here!” The woman from the stained glass argued.

Laxus took her words to heart. She was right. He took the box out of his coat and called to Freed, “Heads up!”

The box hurtled towards him and he caught it. He opened it hesitantly and his heart, as if pulled by an imaginary force, flew to his chest where it belonged. With a flash of light, Freed changed back into his original form.

Though smaller and admittedly less intimidating, he walked confidently up to the fight. “I am not a monster, and so I will give you one more chance to back down from this ridiculous fight,” he said calmly to the army. The two figures from the stained glass looked at each other and nodded before falling into line behind him. Freed held out his hand to Laxus. Laxus hesitated before grasping it and joining his new friends. “Now,” Freed began, addressing the troops, “would you really like to charge against four powerful magical beings who just want to continue living their lives unbothered, or can we handle this like adults?”

One by one, the soldiers began to lower their swords and mutter apologies for disturbing the spirit and his friends. “Good choice,” Freed replied. “Now go back to your kingdom. Tell your people that we mean them no harm. And tell your king that we will not be so forgiving next time something like this happens.”

The soldiers filed out quickly with frantic gasps of “yes, sir!”

Once they had all gone, Freed sighed and turned to his friends. “I’m so sorry!”

9~

“I’m so sorry for the way I treated all three of you. Though I’ll admit I do not fully remember all of it. Without my heart… I just felt so… empty. And I lashed out. I apologize deeply.”

“It’s okay, Freed, we know that wasn’t really you,” the woman reassured him, patting his arm.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” The helmeted man chimed in. Wooden dolls floated behind him repeating his words.

“Thank you, Evergreen. Thank you, Bickslow.” Freed looked pleadingly up at Laxus. Now that Freed was back to his normal appearance, Laxus was the taller of the two.

“Yeah. It wasn’t your fault,” Laxus replied gruffly, fighting back a blush.

“Thank you, Laxus,” Freed replied, relieved. “Now. What will you do? I’m afraid you probably won’t be welcomed back into your kingdom.”

“Yeah I guess not. I don’t think I’d want to go back anyway after what they did.”

“Well… there are plenty of rooms here,” Freed stated. “You’re welcome to stay if you want.”

“Really?”

“After all the trouble I caused, the least I can offer you is shelter and protection. I promise you can actually have a proper room this time, not just a rune cage in the foyer.”

“Heh, well that sounds like a pretty good deal, then.”

Freed reached out his hand and Laxus shook it, sealing the deal.

10~

Laxus took some time to explore the castle before finally venturing into his own room.

“Laxus?” Freed stepped in from the hallway and approached the man hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me like that and for getting my heart back. I know you sacrificed a lot even though I did nothing to deserve your kindness.”

Laxus was shocked by Freed’s honesty and sincerity. “It was nothing,” he declared with a shrug. “Besides, you’re a lot nicer with your heart than without so it is a win-win for everyone, right?”

“Heh I guess so,” Freed blushed. “Still, it means a lot to me. I feel like my words are not enough to express my gratitude.” He pondered this for a moment and then moved closer to Laxus. He quickly placed a kiss on the other man’s lips.

Laxus was stunned, but only for a moment. He quickly recovered from the shock and wrapped an arm around Freed’s slender waist, pulling him closer to kiss him deeply. They stood there, entwined in each other's arms, in a well-deserved escape from the chaos they had experienced that week.

[imaginebooks]

Cup of Revenge | Draco Malfoy

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x reader

Genre: Uhhhh fluff, maybe slight angst and yeah

Summary: He wasn’t well, even I could tell that. I knew something was up with him, now I just needed to find out what. This could really go one of two ways, incredibly good or horrifically bad.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Some swearing. It’s written in first person so be warned. It’s also kind of long but oh well. Your last name in this is Ambry just in case you get confused. Be warned about any grammar mistakes and what not. 

This is my submission for @locke-writes​  Intro to 2020 challenge

Masterlist

Also requests are open. Thanks!

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Draco was acting differently, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. We may not have been as good friends as we once were but I could still pick up on his feelings.

I raised an eyebrow, staring at the tall man in front of me as he tried to lie to me about how he was feeling.

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” He said, turning to make his way back into the Slytherin common room before I grabbed him. The sunken features of his face were even more prominent in the dingy light of the castle dungeon. Even now, I could fit my hand around his wrist, something which I was never normally able to do (I have small hands).

“I don’t know when you thought lying to my face would be a good idea, but let me remind you, it’s really not.” He gulped once again, furthering my suspicion that something was really wrong.

“Since when do you care Ambry, we haven’t talked in years.” Draco was trying to change the subject and get me riled up, but it wasn’t going to work at all.

“Who’s fault is that anyway? Besides, trying to distract me is going to get you nowhere.” I growled. “You better tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing. Just drop it okay?” He hissed, finally becoming angry with me, glaring down, his eyes turning to a stormy grey. I just needed to push a couple more buttons and then he would spill whatever it is that he was hiding from me.

Draco, whilst he was incredibly clever, could be pretty dense at other times and never picked up on the fact that I knew all of his little quirks and what to say to get him to tell me his secrets. We had known each other since we were in nappies, our parents having been best friends when they went to school and were hoping for us to be the same. This lead to a lot of play dates and sleep overs and I was now able to read him like a book. 

Unfortunately, our parents also shared the same views on half-bloods, muggle borns and blood traitors so you can imagine the uproar from my family when I was sorted into Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like everyone else.

My parents then promptly forbid me from coming home during any of the holidays that weren’t the summer, seeing Draco and his family (who probably wanted nothing to do with me) and from calling them mum and dad.

They kept me around until I could fend for myself and then chucked me out into the big wide world. I was lucky enough to find a job and an apartment that I was able to rent for a cheap enough price during the summer holidays.  

I thought that maybe, even if I had been sorted into Hufflepuff, Draco and my relationship would last at school. Except that was a far off dream, Draco had blanked me out for most of our years at Hogwarts and I had learnt to do the same with him.

The foundations of our friendship rocked even more when he found out that I was involved with Dumbledore’s Army last year. He had been the one to drag me to where Umbridge was rounding us up, glaring at me the entire way. 

Whilst Harry and a couple of others made their way down to London that night, a few of us stayed at the castle to stop any of the Inquisitorial Squad reporting us to Fudge.

Draco duelled with me that day, the first and only time it had happened. The battle between the two of us had only been stopped as I had shot an curse to keep him immobile, before moving him away from the letter that he was going to write to his father about what had happened. I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he had forgiven me for that one.

Even if our relationship had failed, I was still worried about him. Especially due to the fact that, ever since the start of our sixth year, he had become even paler and more sickly looking, his cheek bones protruding from his thin face as he stared unseeingly past me.

I had managed to swap prefect duty with the person that Draco was normally with, and thus I was here, confronting him and trying to get an answer out of the stubborn man.

“I’m not going to drop it Draco. You look like death. What’s going on?” He ran a hand through his hair before making his way off in the direction of our prefect route. Running to keep up with his long legs, I continued to pester him with questions.

“Why won’t you just tell me? Seriously Draco, I’m worried.” He stopped at those words before slamming me into the wall behind us.

“You’re worried about me! You betrayed me.” He pushed himself off the wall, continuing our round. I rolled my eyes at his dramatic statement before hurrying after him.

“I’ll find out somehow Malfoy, you know me.”

“Will you leave me alone, Ambry?” He growled, scratching his left arm absentmindedly and my brain started to connect the dots.

“Malfoy, don’t tell me…” I trailed off, watching as he stiffened, pausing the scratching on his arm as he stared at me in horror.

Draco looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown as he realised that I had managed to work out what he was doing. He knew that I was very sharp when it came to uncovering people’s secrets before they wanted me to.

“Go away!” He looked so upset with himself. I glanced at his left arm, hoping and praying to any god out there that he hadn’t done what I thought he had done. He saw me looking and began to back away, my fear only growing as he did so.

“Don’t even think about it.” He warned, backing away as I moved forward.

“Draco.” I pleaded, holding out my hand as he continued to back away. “If it’s not true, then you have nothing to fear, just show me your left arm.”

However, I knew almost for sure that I was right so I cast an immobulus charm on him and grabbed his wand before casting the counter curse so that he was standing opposite me. His resolve seemed to crumble as he let me grab his left arm, not even trying to protest. He looked down, blond hair falling in front of his eyes, that seemed fragmented in the light.

I pulled his sleeve up so that the dark mark was shown, marring his skin. It was visibly irritated, the skin around it red and there were scars covering the top of it as if he had tried to scratch it off. My heart broke for the boy in front of me, knowing that Draco wouldn’t have done that if there was any other choice.

“Draco…” I stared up at him, tracing around the dark mark as I did so, trying to soothe the agitated skin. Glancing up at him, I caught his eyes and pleaded with him to help me understand what was going on. “Why?”

“He was going to kill me, what do you think I was going to say?” He hissed back, his voice breaking as he did so. “He’s threatening me, my parents, you. He was going to kill everyone.”

“What’s he asked you to do?” I pressed as Draco rolled down his sleeves and straightened his blond hair again. He rolled his eyes at me. “And why am I involved in that list? As you said, we haven’t talked in years.” 

He gulped and sighed before answering.

“My happiness depends on you. You’ve always been my light, my best friend.” I smiled up at him sadly, the lines reminding me of our past memories together. “Why do you think he’s asked me to do something anyway?” 

“You forget, we grew up in the same types of households, I know how it goes.” He gulped, remembering that he and I were very alike. Both of us had been prepared to take over the family mantle and to take up the dark mark if our parents fell. However, I got out of that life but Draco was still stuck in it. “Tell me, I can help.”

“Kill Dumbledore…He’s asked me to kill Dumbledore.” He replied, rubbing his hand against his face in pain. He glanced back up at me and I saw unshed tears in his eyes. He was terrified.

Draco, who had been my knight in shining armour for years, was absolutely terrified of this. I gulped knowing that it was my turn to stand up and help him in any way that I could.

Shuffling over to his hunched figure, I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head, running my hands through his hair as he sighed.

“We can stop this you know.” I told him. “This doesn’t have to be a be all end all situation.”

“How are we going to stop this? Have you met that man, he’s too powerful for us to defeat. We’re students.” Draco moaned, running his hands through his hair again as he pulled away from me.

“No, he’s not. That man’s still scared of one person.” I told him, grabbing his hand and beginning to lead him back towards the gargoyle staircase. Draco was thinking, trying to work out the pros and cons of the situation as I slowly lead him towards the office.

It gave him enough time to try and stop me from talking to the old professor and bolt. But still, he continued to walk with me, staring at our intertwined hands.

“I’m sure that he’s the person who can help us. I have a plan and I think that maybe he’ll be able to help us execute it.” I said, gripping his hands a little tighter as we both ducked out of sight of Mrs Norris, who was prowling the corridors.

“What’s your plan o powerful one?” He said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as I winked up at him, both of us pressed together in a tight nook on the fifth floor.

“You’ll find out when we get to Dumbledore’s office.”

“Ambry, just don’t. He can’t help me, you can’t help me. I have to carry this mission out alone.” He sighed, twisting his wrist so that I released his hand from my grasp.

It was at that moment that luck seemed to be on my side and Professor Dumbledore appeared from round the corner and approached the two of us.

“Ah. Mr Malfoy, Miss Ambry. This is a pleasant surprise. Why don’t you step into my office for a minute?” He asked, not leaving any room for arguments as Draco and I followed the old man towards the gargoyle staircase.

We must have looked like quite a trio as we walked past; Draco looked like he was being sent to the gallows, I looked worried and Dumbledore just had a knowing glint in his eyes as he watched the two of us closely.

We finally made it up into his office and sat opposite the large desk in two chairs, that he had transfigured from books. I had never been in his office before, and I looked around in awe at the room; the paintings on all the walls, the phoenix that watched the both of us carefully, and the large book cases that lined the room. Draco wasn’t as impressed as I was, and just sat staring at the desk, his hand still clutching mine as he waited for the old professor to speak.

“Now Mr Malfoy, would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?” The professor asked as he shot me a look over his half-moon glasses. Draco sighed and looked away from our joined hands, knowing that Dumbledore would be able to pick up on any bullshit that he tried.

“Draco. Would it be easier to show him?” I whispered, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles and squeezing his hand. It seemed that our relationship had picked up where we left off, and we were back to being (relatively) affectionate with one and other. That was always a good thing about our relationship, we were always able to reconcile after any argument no matter how big it was. As Draco said, we were one and others light to try and keep up sane in this harsh world.

It had always been that way around, me providing affection that both of us had been starved of, and him lapping it all up eagerly. He was a big softy under all his bad boy persona.

Draco, after a couple minutes of tense silence, began to roll up his left sleeve to show the scratched dark mark that had tainted his skin. He looked away, staring into my eyes, ashamed that he had to talk to a teacher about what to do. Dumbledore nodded at the sight and then commented;

“You were supposed to kill me, weren’t you?” Draco nodded, still not meeting the teachers eyes. “Well, this is a stroke of luck isn’t it?”

Draco snapped his head to Dumbledore’s as he glanced between me and the man, confused at the professor’s happy tone.

“How is this lucky?” He asked, looking at the mark, that was now hidden again underneath his shirt, with disgust.

“Well, now there’s someone on the inside isn’t there? I do believe that was your plan all along Miss Ambry.” I nodded at his statement, still confused at how he had worked out my plan before I told him. Draco sat a bit further upwards in his chair, clenching my hand tighter than before.

“Yes sir. I thought that maybe we could use the coins from Dumbledore’s Army and then have Draco be an informant in You-Know-Who’s ranks.” I said, looking at Draco, who had a furrowed brow. 

“Coins? What coins?” He questioned, though Dumbledore and I ignored him.

“Yes, but we should make it look realistic so maybe if Draco could keep up with the assassination attempts. It would mean that Voldemort wouldn’t have a reason to suspect him.”

“He would need to learn occlumency.” I told Dumbledore, becoming more certain with the idea that we created. It would need some more planning, but I thought that we could pull it off. Draco was still looking between the two of us, confused as to what we were talking about.

Dumbledore nodded and suggested Snape before chatting over some final details and letting us go back to our common rooms.

We began to make our way back down to the Great Hall level so that I could branch off to the Hufflepuff common room and he could continue down to the dungeons.

“What did he mean by coins?” Draco asked, pulling me to a stop in front of the corridor leading to the Hufflepuff common room. I pulled out the galleon that was my DA coin and showed it to him.

“It can show a message on it and it used to let us know when to come to the room of requirements to practice.” He picked the coin up from my palm, flipping it over in his hands before giving it back to me.

“Are you going to make a couple?” I nodded at his statement.

“I’ll ask Hermione what the charm is and then I can make one for me, you and Dumbledore so that we can communicate with each other about the plan.” I told Draco who nodded, looking slightly confused about all the information that was being thrown at him in such a short space of time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Draco replied, wrapping me in a hug as he pressed his lips to my head. “Thank you, for doing this...and, I’m sorry, for these past few years. I let my fathers teachings get in the way of our friendship. I know that’s not a proper excuse but I’ll do anything to try and save our relationship.”

“It’s not a problem Draco. You know that I’d do anything to help you.” I made my way out of his arms and back into the Hufflepuff common room as he trotted off downstairs to sleep. It was an interesting night, that was for sure.

 ************************

 I had managed to get the charm off of Hermione relatively easily, and had made the coins for Draco, Dumbledore and I. Luckily the charm was still relatively simple, and I managed to make three galleons and deliver them to the other two (it also made meeting up to discuss secret plans a lot easier).

Draco and I had then sat down, a couple of weeks before Christmas, and had brainstormed a couple of ideas for what was going to happen after the holidays, in terms of assassination attempts, and how his occlumency lessons were going with Snape.

Dumbledore had also suggested that we think of something that could be used to assassinate him before Christmas.

Thus, I was brewing a poison in the dungeons, under Snape’s supervision, whilst Draco had his occlumency lesson. It would have been a strange sight if anyone came into the room, me (a Hufflepuff) brewing a poison and Draco (a Slytherin) having occlumency lessons.

Slughorn had vacated the room after hearing that Snape wanted to use it so that Draco and I could complete an extra-credit project.

After two hours of slaving away at the cauldron, I finished the poison and began to watch the occlumency lesson, smiling as Draco managed to keep Snape out of his head for the third time that night. When they had finished practicing, I gave Draco a glass of water and waited for him to catch his breath as I told him all about the potion. Snape had tested it and deemed it above average (so in other words, it could be used).

I’d already sent Dumbledore a message over the galleons, who had then sent a bottle of mead to us and we had tipped the poison in, before giving it to Professor Slughorn. 

Draco had used the imperious curse, so that Slughorn thought it was his idea, which I wasn’t impressed with. I was not a fan of the Unforgivable curses, having seen the damage that they could cause a person.

That night was a good one, as the plan was working a lot better than we hoped. It was all coming together quite nicely.

The next morning, I walked into the Great Hall behind Draco, who still looked tired and pale from the occlumency lesson last night, though less like death. I almost walked straight into his back as he stopped still, staring at a Gryffindor seventh year who was standing at the other end of the hall talking to Harry Potter. I also froze, just like Draco as I realised that everything we worked for could go down the drain if Potter decided to stick his nose into our business.

That was Katie Bell, the girl who was cursed by the necklace that Draco forced her to take. She was also, unfortunately, a friend of Potter’s, which meant that he was bound to go meddling. Bell would probably further confirm his suspicions about Draco and them clashing would not be pleasant.

Draco almost ran out of the room, pushing past others coming in, and I quickly followed him, making sure that I kept him in my eye sight as he moved into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

I rushed in after him, my heart breaking for my best friend who was struggling to come to terms with the fact that he had ended up hurting someone, even if he was trying to protect himself and his family.

He had taken his jumper off and loosened his tie, the top button of his shirt open, taking in big gulps of air as he clutched the bathroom sink, heaving sobs echoing in the small room. Moving up behind him, I touched his back gently to let him know I was there, before wrapping my arms around his waist. He turned around and wrapped me in a hug, burying his head into my shoulder as I ran my hand through his hair, holding me as tightly as I was holding him.

“She’s alive, no one was seriously harmed.” I whispered, keeping an eye on the door in the reflection of the mirror. I glared at Potter as he walked into the room, a book in one hand and his wand in the other. I drew my own wand, staring Potter down.

Potter and I may be on familiar terms but Draco was still my best friend and I would protect him against anyone, even if the other person was a friend of mine as well.

“Piss off Potter.” I hissed at the man. Draco stiffened under my touch, before he too turned around and drew his wand, neither of us pleased with the outcome. “We’re not looking for a fight.”

“You were the one who gave her that necklace, weren’t you?” Potter spat, ignoring my words as Draco and I bristled.

Potter threw the first spell, which I deflected, and then Draco sent one towards him. Potter sent another spell which bounced off my shield and hit the faucet, causing water to start to spray. Draco began to lead Potter away from me, as I tried to control the water that was spurting out of the broken tap. The ground beneath us began to flood with water as I worked to get it repaired.

I could hear the fight coming back towards me again and quickly made my way over to stand back to back with Draco, not sure where the next spell from Potter would come from. I sent a quick glance at Draco, who squeezed my hand lightly in reassurance.

Unfortunately, the spell came in my direction and it wasn’t one that I had ever heard before or knew of.

“Sectumsempra.” Potter shouted and all of a sudden, I felt a searing amount of pain through my chest and back, as if someone was cutting me open with a knife. I let out a shout, before stumbling and dropping my wand.

Draco caught me as I fell down, trying to be careful as he swore loudly. I could see the water around us start to turn red with my blood and I could feel myself getting tired. Potter began to run towards us, skidding to a stop when he saw that there were cuts on my torso and back, not Draco’s.

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence as Snape brushed past him and began to say a spell that lessened the pain slightly as my wounds sealed back together. At that point, I blacked out, the pain becoming too much for me to handle.

I woke up later that night, lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with Draco clutching my hand tightly as he waited for me. I squeezed his hand, smiling widely at the boy as he jumped out of his skin. Giggling, I watched as he sighed in relief and smiled down at me.

“Hi.” I whispered as Draco tried to calm down, before handing me a glass of water.

“Hey.”

“You okay?” I asked, looking at the tall man in front of me.

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine. Wasn’t your fault. What happened to Potter?”

“Detention and he lost 100 points for Gryffindor.” He smirked at that statement and I could bet that he was very pleased about that considering the house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Madame Pomfrey came round moments later and shooed Draco out so that she could look at the slashes.

“They might leave some marks Miss Ambry, but otherwise you’re good to go.” I thanked the healer and sat up to put my uniform back on as she closed the curtains around my bed. I managed to get everything back onto my body, bar my tie, as I was struggling to do it up.

“Draco.” I called, hoping that he was near the bed. He appeared inside the curtains moments later and I showed him the tie which he tied for me. Smoothing it out, he helped me into the over robes, that all the students wore, before offering me his arm and leading me towards the common room.  

“Ambry.” Someone called from behind me and I turned to see Potter, Granger and Weasley moving towards us in a hurry. Draco glared at Harry, wrapping his arms protectively around my waist as he did so. “I wanted to apologise to you. I’m really sorry, I had no idea that the spell did that.”

“Why use a spell when you didn’t know what it caused?” Draco spat, glaring harshly at the man. I slapped him on the shoulder and smiled at the distraught boy in front of me. Potter was a good soul really, he just was a bit clueless sometimes.

“It’s fine Harry, it could have been worse. I’ll see you later.” I sent a warm smile their way, as Draco glared over the top of my head, before turning back towards the common room.

Draco lead me to the barrels that were the entrance for the room, and gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head before disappearing back to the dungeons.

 *******************

 Months later, our plan was finally ready, all the careful planning that Draco, Snape, Dumbledore and I put into this would finally pay off. Of course the only downside was that Dumbledore was going to die, but he had assured us multiple times that he was “going to die anyway” and “why wait for the inevitable?” which were morbid thoughts.

Dumbledore notified us, over the coins, that he was taking Potter with him to find the horcrux and that tonight should be the night that he dies. Neither of us were very pleased with the upcoming plan but it was supposedly for the greater good.

The last dinner before the proper war started was tense, well at least it was for me. Draco and I kept catching each other’s eyes from across the hall and giving each other reassuring looks. He motioned for me to follow him out at the end. I nodded slightly, knowing that he wanted to say goodbye before shit hit the fan.

Draco walked out and, moments later, I followed him towards the room of requirements. He pulled me into the room as he quickly closed the door.

“If I don’t see you after this, please make sure you keep safe Ambry.” I smiled up at him, nodding slightly.

“I’ll be fine Draco. You know how to contact me if you need anything, right?” He nodded, showing me the coin that was kept in his pockets. I smiled, pressing my lips against his cheeks before I moved away from him.

“When this happens, don’t come out from hiding. You’ll be pretty high up on the hit list considering you’re a blood traitor and all. I’ll see you soon.” He said.

I began to walk out, waving over my shoulder before I heard him curse behind me. I turned around to ask him what was wrong, when I found myself pushed into yet another wall as his lips met mine in a kiss so passionate that I lost myself in it.

Pulling away, he kissed me again. Everything that he couldn’t say translated into that one kiss.

“Stay safe Draco, I’m expecting a date when this blows over.” I whispered against his lips as he rubbed my arms.

“Don’t die.” I winked at him and finally left the room of requirements, knowing that I wouldn’t see him until next summer at least.

 ***************************

 I didn’t return to Hogwarts the next year, scared for my life as a blood traitor and someone who was supposedly high on the hit list. I had my parents to blame for that one.

Instead, I went on the run and tried to hide out in the muggle world. Of course, I would have gone to a different country altogether, but Draco needed me here and I would stay to finish the plan.

Every night, since I first went on the run, I had begun to listen to Potterwatch (a corny name I know) to try and work out what was going on whilst I was away from it all. They had sent out a couple of messages already asking about my whereabouts and Dean Thomas’. Occasionally, they would send a message that involved some of the information that Draco had procured.

When Draco found any new information, he would tell me over the galleon, in a code we had made up, and then I would send it down the DA galleon that Hermione had given me two years ago, making sure that someone had got it.

It was in June that I finally went back as a call had gone out over Potterwatch to tell us that we needed to make our way into Hogsmeade and then Hogwarts immediately. I had apparated over to Hogsmeade, landing in the Hogs Head pub, before making my way into the castle, through a secret tunnel which came out inside the room of requirements.

The room had become a base for the DA members; hammocks lining the walls and a bathroom and kitchen set up for the students to make sure that they could be self-sufficient.

“Where did the information come from? About the attack tonight?” I heard Harry ask as he looked round the room, his eyes brushing over me as he did so.

“Got it over the DA galleon, thought it was one of you lot.” Lee Jordan, Potterwatch’s host, stated as he showed the coin which had my latest message on it.

“Then who sent it to you? How do we know that we can trust this information?” Harry asked.

“Harry.” I called, stepping past people to see him.

“Ambry, you’re okay.” Hermione said, pulling me into a hug. I nodded. I turned back to Harry before he could ask the same question.

“I’ve been the one sending the information.” Everyone’s eyebrows raised as they turned to me. I pulled the two galleon’s out of my pocket, showing him the DA one and my own.

“What?” Ron asked, his mouth open in shock.

“There was a plan, to help us win the war quicker. Only four people were in on it, one being me, another being Draco and Dumbledore. The last ones still working at the moment.” Everyone’s mouths hung open in shock as they stared at me. “Draco’s been sending me information from the inner circle of death eaters and then I’ve been sending it onto you guys.” Harry began to splutter at the new information.

“But what about Dumbledore?” Hermione prompted, staring at me.

“We had to make it look realistic. It was Dumbledore’s idea really, Draco and I just followed instructions.” I smiled weakly, before showing my own coin to Harry, with a message from Draco on it. “You’re not the only one who wants revenge Harry, a lot of us pure bloods have parents that have been forced into taking the dark mark, or tried to force us. We have people of our own to avenge. Just tell me where you want the Slytherins who are going to fight and I’ll make sure that everyone’s ready.”

 **************************

 There was a scream from outside the Great Hall and all of our heads shot up in an instant. I pulled the cloth over the young girls head before making my way over to Pansy as both of us began to head outside. Most of us who were from Slytherin, or pure blood families, stayed at the back so that our parents wouldn’t be able to see us. Sure we were betraying them, but we didn’t really want it publicly known.

Reaching Draco, who I hadn’t seen in over a year, I pushed my hand into his and both of us held onto one and other tightly. I didn’t want to look at Harry’s body, the sight too haunting as I watched the last hope lie there, dead.

Looking back out towards the Death Eaters, I saw my parents faces of complete and utter betrayal as they glared at me. I took in a sharp breath as I stared at them, clutching onto Draco’s hand even tighter than before. Whilst my parents might have disowned me, they still raised me for a large part of my life and I still hated to disappoint them, even after not being a part of their family for seven years.

Voldemort was talking, calling for people to come over and join him as the war was lost. He was already celebrating and we hadn’t even surrendered yet. His snake light eyes flickered dangerously, watching to see if any of us stepped forward. I saw, from the corner of my eyes, Narcissa step forward, her hand outstretched towards her son.

“Draco.” His mother called, motioning for Draco to walk towards them, and accept being a death eater. He stood his ground, wrapping his arms around me and keeping his eyes on the top of my head. I squeezed his waist in support as I looked at his chest.

They called again, this time louder, pleading with him to come to them. But still he refused, both of his hands holding onto my waist tightly. 

I knew this was hard for him, betraying his family and pushing all of his beliefs away as he stayed as still as a statue. I could feel his shaky breath brushing against my ears as we stood there for what seemed like hours.

Removing my head from Draco’s chest, I looked around, taking in the faces of the other students who stared at us. They all seemed shocked that Draco was standing with them and against his own flesh and blood. He had finally made his own choice on the matter.

His parents stopped calling, betrayal clear on their faces as they stared at their only son. Voldemort was visibly frustrated with the fact that Draco hadn’t re-joined them.

 *********************

 The battle had ended shortly after that, Voldemort being defeated by Harry and Bellatrix by Molly Weasley. My parents had been brought into custody and were going to be held on trial at a later date that I needed to attend. Draco’s parents, along with many of his friends parents were also dragged in to be held accountable for what they had done.

Draco and I were sitting on a large piece of stone, that had come off of one of the towers, clutching onto one and other as we stared out at the castle that once held our home. Draco placed a kiss to my head, as Molly Weasley walked up to us.

“Do you two have a place to go?” She asked kindly staring down at the two of us.

“Yeah, my apartment’s still intact. We’re going to stay there for a bit.” I replied, smiling up at the woman.

“I wanted to thank you.” She said, directly addressing Draco as she did so. Draco looked up, surprised that she was talking to him. After everything that he had said about their family in his younger years, he never expected the matriarch to even look at him. “For saving my son.”

I glanced over at the Weasley clan seeing that, sure enough, all of the children were still there, in one piece more or less. Draco began to shake his head, protesting that he didn’t need thanks. In his mind, he believed that saving Fred’s life was how he repaid them for all of the trouble that he had caused.

“Draco.” I looked at him, elbowing him in the ribs as I did so, to try and make him accept their thanks. He sighed, glancing down at me and then back at the kind face of Molly Weasley.

“That’s okay. But really, you don’t need to thank me.” He said, looking down at the ground as a hint of colour raised in his cheeks. He wasn’t used to getting thanks, neither of us were as it really wasn’t in our parents manners to do so.

“If there’s anything we can do for you, let us know.” Molly squeezed my arm, before moving back to her own family who hugged her tightly.

“Ready to go home Draco?” I asked the tall man, who was still unmoving besides me. His head snapped up, registering that I was talking to him. He squeezed my hand, smiling before bending down to kiss me softly.

“Whenever you are, darling.” I beamed up at him as we made our way out, towards one of the apparition points in Hogsmeade.

“I like that nickname.” He chuckled quietly as I giggled.

 **********************

 19 Years Later

 Kings Cross seemed to never become less chaotic. It was the first of September and all of the Hogwarts students were making their way to Platform 9 ¾ to board the train. Pushing past some muggle commuters who were trying to barge past my son and I, I lead Scorpius in the direction of the station wall.

Scorpius was practically bouncing with excitement as he looked at the station in awe. I chuckled lightly, placing my hands on his shoulders as we got closer to the platform entrance.

“Malfoy.” Someone called from behind me and I turned to see the Potter’s making their way towards me. I waved, bringing Scorpius to a stop as I did so. Harry and Ginny finally reached me, their children trailing behind them, staring at me in confusion.

“It’s good to see you again Potter. How have you been?” He nodded at my statement, smiling at Scorpius.

“I’ve been good, busy with work and all. How about you?” He replied, motioning to the baby bump that was showing underneath my flowery dress. I laughed, stroking the top of the bump.

“Yeah, good. Just sending this one off to Hogwarts for his first year.” I pulled Scorpius closer to me as he smiled widely.

“Really?” Ginny asked. “Well, we’re sending Albus off for his first year as well.” I waved to Albus, who was looking slightly nervous.

“Darling!” A voice called, followed by a chuckle as I felt my husband’s arms slip around my waist. “Potter, good to see you again.”

Our pair of twins, Lucy and Mickey, also collided into the two of us before running off with their older brother.

All of our children had inherited the Malfoy blonde hair and grey eyes, with only a hint of me in their looks. I was, however, holding out hopes for the next child to look like me instead of Draco.

“Malfoy.” Potter replied, shaking his hand as we all walked in the direction of the platform, chattering amongst ourselves as we did so. We went through the barrier first, before waving to the Potter’s and making our way a bit further down to where Pansy and Blaise were also standing with their own kids. We said hello to them before helping Scorpius put his stuff onto the train.

“Remember to write at some point please.” I reminded my oldest as I pressed a kiss to his head. Draco wrapped him into a hug as well, before I handed him a bag of sweets for the train. “Make some friends whilst your at it.” I winked at Scorpius as he laughed, before giving me one last hug and boarding the train.

I heard a grunt from behind me, and watched as the six-year-old twins, who had tried to run after their brother, were restrained by Draco. Taking Lucy out of Draco’s arms, I held her against my waist as our little family waved at Scorpius.

We wouldn’t see him again until the Christmas holidays, if he even wanted to come back. The train left the station and disappeared around the bend in the tracks and we waited until we couldn’t see it anymore. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Draco asked, worried due to his own experience at school, and what others may think about him due to his family name.

“He’s a Malfoy and an Ambry, he’ll give them hell.” I said, beginning to lead Draco out of the station by the arm, and back towards the car. He had become a bit more worried after becoming a father, but I was pretty sure that Scorpius was going to have a lot of fun and make a lot of friends.

“I’m sure you’re right Mrs Malfoy.” Draco said as he buckled the twins into their car seats and opened the door for me. 

“I’m always right Draco.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips before he shut the car door. I knew in my heart that everything was going to be okay.

[lilywhittaker]

Righting The Wrongs | Self-Para

who: lily whittaker, elise whittaker, ian whittaker when: november 7th, 2020 where: whittaker estate, sunstone beach

I have to do this. Aside from telling him that she loved him, those were the last words she’d whispered to Bash that morning before leaving him in bed as she began getting ready to meet with her parents. Her family-affiliated bank accounts had not been frozen, which she took as a good sign - and all her mother’s doing. Elise Whittaker would only ever cut her daughter off if it was a last resort, no matter how much prodding she faced from her husband. “I have to do this,” Lily repeated to herself as she drove through the gates of her family estate, a place that had once been home feeling like a prison as the guards closed the gates behind her and told her where to park. Thanking the butler as he directed her to her father’s study, Lily didn’t even bother knocking - she simply opened the doors and strode in, seeing both of her parents sitting behind the desk. “Mother, Father. I trust that we have a lot to discuss,” she greeted curtly, heels clicking against the wooden flooring before she reached the desk, not sitting down as she didn’t want to feel complacent and small. Standing firm and tall, she felt as though she could hold her own.

You insolent little bitch. You cost this family our reputation as well as your own, and for what? Some petty criminal who gave you an ounce of attention, whispered empty compliments in your ear? Ian’s words stung, but Lily held her ground. “The ‘petty criminal’ has a name. You should get used to it, actually. You’ll probably be hearing it a lot now,” the woman challenged, crossing her arms across her chest. “I cost this family their reputation and set my own on fire. For what, you ask? Because you and I both know that Bash didn’t do anything, and telling the truth was the right thing. I didn’t do it out of hope that we’d reconcile, I did it because it was what was morally right. Is that a feeling you’re familiar with, Dad?” Poking the bear was dangerous, especially since she had witnessed firsthand what Ian Whittaker did to people who upset him. But she didn’t care; Bash may not have been with her, but she was angry for him. “At the end of the day, I can live with the decisions I made. I can sleep at night knowing that I put myself in an uncomfortable position, but I did what I thought was right. Can you both say the same?” Lily asked, her voice eerily calm as her eyes darted between her mother and father, almost daring them to disagree with her.

So what, Landry is your boyfriend now? He’ll leave you in two months once he gets bored of you trying and failing to make him into husband material. Trying to make him into something he’s not. And you’re biting the hand that fed you for thirty years, and the one that’d feed you when he inevitably breaks your heart. “You almost ruined his life,” Lily sneered, gripping the back of the chair in front of her as she glared at her father. “And for what? Because you didn’t think he was good enough for me? I was born into this world, and yes I worked my ass off in school and for event planning. But someone who didn’t have the privileges I have, that person would need to work twice as hard to achieve what I did. I’m grateful for the opportunities that I’ve been given, but let’s not pretend that I earned them all. Bash wasn’t born into wealth, with options to achieve his goals by whatever means possible. It’s not fair to say that he’s beneath me just because of this.” Neither of her parents had said it, but Lily knew them well enough to know that they saw him as nothing more than a liability at their daughter’s side, a man without a degree from a reputable university or a profession that they would love to brag about him being employed in. “But yes, he is my boyfriend now. He didn’t graduate from an Ivy League, doesn’t work in law or finance or the medical profession, doesn’t have much money to his name, has a criminal record. But you know what? I am aware of all of this, and I’m still making the choice to be with him. I choose him, and I’ll stand by it.”

“First, you release a public statement that clears him of any wrongdoing. Apologize to him in it, and personally when he’s ready - it’s safe to say he doesn’t want to see either of you right now, and I don’t blame him one bit.” Bash’s reputation wouldn’t be one hundred percent safe, but it was the best option for now. She knew that he could file a civil lawsuit, but she didn’t want to make those decisions for him. “And I know you set him up,” she accused, pointing at Ian before her attention shifted to Elise. “And you knew about it and didn’t do anything to stop it - which is just as bad, in my opinion. Or you tried to, but it was too late. Either way, Bash would’ve paid the price for an issue you had with me, and that’s not okay. The knowledge I have, I could ruin us all. We’d be where the Hawthornes were up until earlier this year,” she almost threatened, unsure if she even would’ve gone that far to get her revenge. “My accounts remain untouched. I’ll keep up the charade of ‘simply needing my space and moving into a home of my own’ for the public, but we both know the real reason I bought that house in Goldfinch earlier this month. If you keep up your end of the deal, I never mention this to anyone,” Lily promised, waiting to see if her family agreed. Had she gotten cut off entirely, she would’ve been able to live a comfortable middle class life on her event planning salary but she didn’t want to do that just yet. As much as she was working on unlearning her own internal biases when it came to socioeconomic factors, Lily was also scared to step outside of the comfort zone that she’d known for so long.

Your mother already said we’re not cutting you off, if it was up to me you’d have been on welfare already. You’re done acting like a petulant teenager whose cell phone got confiscated yet? The fact that her father was trivializing her anger pushed Lily even further; she wasn’t yelling just yet, but her voice had raised a few notches and her mother asking her to keep her voice down had the exact opposite effect on her. “Keep my voice down? I think we’re far past the point of decency here, a man almost went to prison because of your bias,” she shot back, letting her biting words hang in the air for a few moments. After years of maintaining a level of decorum and docility around her parents, Lily threw caution into the wind and was not at all concerned. “In fact, I decided to help you out with your road to redemption. The Innocence Project has received ten grand in your name to help fight injustices. They’ll do a lot with that, I’m sure, making sure that innocent people in prison get the help they need to clear their names.”

Once the three Whittakers had finished their heated discussion, Lily handed them her keys to the grounds. “I don’t need these anymore, you can keep them. Bash and I will be in touch about anything else,” she finally concluded, getting up from her seat and pulling her coat on. You’re making a huge mistake, Lilian. You’ll be back here before you know it, begging us to be there for you. You’re destroying the Whittaker legacy, sympathizing with a criminal and going against your own family. What about your own children? Silence hung in the air as she considered those words, giving her father a saccharine smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. 

“Oh, Daddy, I’m not destroying anything, I’m reinventing our legacy. Reinventing what the Whittaker name will be known for: kindness and compassion. And that’s the world I’m bringing my future children into. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to be on my way. We’ll talk soon.” Leaving both of her parents speechless as she exited through the French doors of her father’s study, Lily felt a surge of pride amidst some guilt. She had just taken a stance against them, one that she believed was right. But there was no doubt that the measures she’d resorted to could be considered blackmail. Something that she associated with her parents, and not with herself - not only demanding something in exchange for not releasing incriminating information, but feeling triumphant as she did it. Was this what good people did?

Was Lily Whittaker now the villain in the story?

[maidenxfmight]

we’re not their heroes

Tagging: @kxnel, @supersxn, & Kara Zor-El When: August 1st, 2020 Where: Jon and Kon’s Apartment What: The Superfam falls apart at the seams; Kara needs her head checked. Warnings: None? Word Count: 4,217

KARA: Their apartment was always so full of life. The windows were lit a bright yellow, and the sound of an indignant 'hey!' followed by laughter could easily be heard from Kara's position outside. They sounded untouched, like maybe they were stealing a moment to just be brother's in the chaos that had become New York City. (Didn't they know the world was ending? Didn't they know she was losing it? And she can't stop it, she can't, she can't–)

Brothers. They both held the last name Kent, and something about it ground uncomfortably in her chest. So human, when all Kara wanted was Krypton. They were suppose to be El's, they wore her family crest, but they kept Clark's new last name. For a moment, she toyed with flying away. It's not like she needed them, right?

There was something else, something that shouldn't be there anymore. A small part that was screaming, of course she needed them. Of course they were family. Of course she loved them, and was proud of them, and–

It won, just a little. It gained ground where other thoughts had failed, and she found herself standing in their living room in an instant. Long gone was her suit of red and blue, replaced with a dark black, her crest but a shadow of red just above her heart. "Hey, boys. Having fun?"

KON: The night, for once, actually felt kind of normal. No work, no robberies, no multi-dimensional baddies and, surprisingly, no Cassie pulling the two brothers away from each other. He had missed it.

(Not that Kon didn’t love the nights the three of them spent together, a movie of Jon’s choice playing while the two lovebirds cuddled on the couch, much to Jon’s dismay.)

But with Cassie moving in Conner felt like he needed a day just to be with his brother and so he had wrangled him into helping rearrange and repaint his bedroom as a surprise for his girlfriend with the promise of burgers, pizza, and the alien ale that tasted like pomegranates he usually had stocked in the fridge. The day had been good. Great, even, and Kon threw his head back in a full bellied laugh as he watched Jon try and fit the abomination he called a ‘pizza ball’ into his mouth. 

“Get that away from me,” he chided, pushing at his brother as his head shook. “you’re disgus-Kara?” 

He sat up straight, his brows furrowed in confusion as he slapped at the back of Jon’s head to get him to look at the woman standing in their living room.

“I guess, Jon’s gone and ruined a perfectly good meat-lovers. What’s, ah- with the suit?  You doing some secret spy stuff without us?”

JON: There had been a few hiccups with the new living situation, naturally, but all and all it wasn't bad. He knew what he was getting into when he had moved in with Kon to begin with. They made it work and Jon was grateful for his brother actually making an effort to hang out with him outside of his the time the three of them spent together. There was always that lingering sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jon had come to this universe and knew no one, had no one who knew him. He had to build his life from the ground up and it wasn't the same. It'd never be the same, but it had become a new normal. One he had become content with.

The new normal included trying to annoy Conner as much as possible, pushing his attempt of several slices of pizza smooshed into a ball at his brother. "Try it!" He said through a mouthful and swallowed, laughing at the disgusted look on the older man's face. He went to grab some napkins, letting out a noise of annoyance when his head was hit. "Quit it!" He shoved back at Conner, looking over and faltering when he saw Kara. Something just felt...off. He didn't like it. "Hey, Kara." There was an attempt at keeping the wariness out of his tone, but Jon wasn't sure he was doing such a good job at it.

"Stealth mode?" Jon attempted to joke, his grin more of a grimace. He wasn't sure what it was that was rubbing him wrong about this, but it was insistent. "You know we love to be included. What's goin' on?"

"Mm, no, not really." Kara stepped further into the apartment, angling herself to face the two of them, now up with their attention on her. Kon looked confused, and Jon looked wary. He always had been smart, for all his jokes and memes. They both were. She'd know just how smart before the night was over.

"I'm not all that interested in stealth right now. In fact, I'm not all that interested in hiding at all." She picked at a loose string on their couch (they really needed a new one), and shrugged a shoulder; if she looked uninterested, it was an act. "Clark was the first one to wear our primary colors, to plaster our family crest on his chest for the world to idolize and hate all at the same time.

"We've been hiding behind it ever since, and I'm tired of it." She looked up. 'Our,' she said. They looked so much like Clark. And Kon, there was more Luthor in him than he knew. The curve of his nose, the angle of his eyebrows. She had to find the El, she had to. "I talked with Magneto tonight. He had a...proposition, one I'd like to extend to the both of you."

KON: She seemed.. off, he guessed would be the most succinct way to put it. Almost cold, certainly less of her usual sunshine and more thunderclouds. Ominous with a hint of something darker flickering just behind her cool demeanor that Kon didn't like. Suddenly, as his eyes narrowed, following Kara's fluid movements through their apartment, Kon felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice. The feeling of unease crackling in the air around them.

It reminded him far too much of the silence that permeated the air just before Superboy Prime had thrown him through a skyscraper and the through had him reaching an arm across the table, absent-mindedly tensing as he spared a glance at Jon.

"Yeah, we're hiding all right. All dressed in primary colors and whizzing through the goddamn sky." He rolled his eyes. He wasn't really sure what Kara was getting at. Sure, the crest was commercialized to the point that sometimes even he felt queasy just looking at it but that was the price you paid when you offered the world a symbol. It wasn't really theirs anymore.

Maybe that was the problem.

Maybe that choice should have fallen on Kara to make rather than Clark. She was the only one who looked at it and saw anything other than the laundry list of accomplishments that the four supers had racked up, after all, but this... this seemed to be more than just an offhand complaint.

"Magneto?" He snapped, his head tilting as he racked his mind for anything that would make this make sense and coming up empty. "Kara, what the fuck is going on? What is all of this about?"

JON: There was a certain sense of foreboding that overtook Jon. There was an arm reaching in front of him and he exchanged a look with his brother. It was obvious that he felt the same inkling of dread as he did. "That's the chance we take, right?" He spoke up, the words feeling hard to force out all the same. It felt like a wrong step in the opposite direction, enough tension in the air it could just snap, but he already said it. There wasn't really much backing out of it now. "We're only—" human. Except they're not. Conner and Jon may be half human unlike Kara who was full Kryptonian, but they all were just as flawed as the human race. Try as they may, even they couldn't be perfect. "...we're not always going to make the right choice, but we don't hide behind that. Behind the symbol. It humanizes us to them, does it not? I think that gives them more reason to love than hate."

Jon hoped at least.

Kara wasn't...she wasn't making sense. There had to be a reason, anything. Something, but he came up empty. "We're colluding with terrorists now?" The words were harsh and biting, but he couldn't help it. "What could he possibly have to offer that would make sense for us to join in on the slightest? The death of the human race? That's not us." He felt sick, stomach churning and heart dropping to his feet.

KARA: Her eyes darted to Jon, hands clenching in the fabric of their couch quick enough to tear, but she didn't notice. They were tense, but she just didn't notice.

"What have we ever gained from appearing human to them?" She forced herself to relax, stepping back with her arms crossed, chin lifting. She wasn't human, she had never been human. Jeremiah could shove glasses on her face and she could stumble through her day to day, but that could never erase who she was.

"They only care as long as we're helping them. And when we're not? They're yelling on street corners, demanding our signatures, or conscripting us into service." Her fingers clenched against her arms, breath pulling in fast. "And do you know what happens when they figure out who we are beneath the symbol? They come after the people we love."

Kara thought of Alex, in a tank. Bloody smiles and blackmail.

"They only love us insofar as we can serve them. We're always hiding, don't you get it?" Somewhere, she remembered maybe she didn't mind so much. Maybe she did these things because for all the world took, it also gave. It gave her a sister, and friends, and the two boys in front of her she loved so much.

But those thoughts barely took purchase, the slope ever steeper. "I'm done. I'm done trying to find a home among a people who don't want me here. I'm done pretending to be something I'm not. I'm done shoving Krypton under a rug. Magneto has offered his help, in exchange for a little help from me."

She was done, she was done, she was done, "I'm going to be destroying some landmarks tomorrow, starting with the bridges into the city. If the humans want to be afraid of us, they should really have an honest reason."

She softened, just around the edges. "I'm going to make us a home again. I'd like you there with me."

KON: His jaw tensed at her words, his teeth grinding together as he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, the obvious and biting but we are human dying in his throat. He had never seen Kara like this and the longer she lingered in their apartment the more confused Kon got. 

Had something happened? Had the two Superboys missed something world-changing while they had enjoyed the little bubble the apartment provided?

He opened his mouth to retort, to defend humanity from whatever this was. Her words were benign but the thinly veiled contempt sat strangely with him but before he could she was off again and Kon's mouth snapped shut.

"Serve them? Is that how you feel?" He laughed, breathless, and in disbelief at her words. He understood how callous people could be. How fruitless a constant battle for justice could get when all you were was a streak in the sky and a smile on a 'Congrats, Grad!' card but that was nothing, nothing in comparison to the knowledge that his planet, his family, his home was safe and that he did his part to keep it that way. 

"So what? You want to pull a Parker and go public or something? Join a terror cell and, what, teach kindergarteners Kryptonian? Listen to yourself right now, Kara, you're talking like a fanatic."

But maybe she had a bit of a point. It wasn't like he had exactly gone out of his way to learn about Krypton. Even the few simple phrases Kara had taught him were only vaguely remembered and rarely practiced in favor of the few curses he knew, which, yeah, probably wasn't the most respectful thing but that could be solved with like, a TedTalk or something, not by doing Magneto favors. What was the endgame?

And then the other shoe dropped. Kon shook his head, the very thought of what Kara was saying causing him to shake.

"You can't. Y-you wouldn't." But, would she? There didn't seem to be any hesitation in her voice. The sentence rolling off her tongue as calmly and as nonchalant as if she had given them her coffee order.

"Any home built on bloodied soil is one I'd spit on gleefully." He spat, his hand grabbing onto the back of Jon's shirt collar in a blur and pushing him back into his seat. "I don't know if he- if he did something to you or-or-or if this is some unresolved angsty bullshit that you're going through right now but, c'mon, Kara. This isn't- you can't actually believe this is right, can you?"

JON: It was like watching a train wreck right before you and you couldn't do anything to stop it. They were human as much as they were Kryptonian. Was that something Kara despised about them? It was enough to make his stomach churn. Half-breed. That's what they were. What he had been called by the eradicator on his earth. It felt like Kara was slipping further and further away from their grasp, spouting out stuff that just didn't make sense. What had happened to her? What did they miss?

"We're not some—some servants for them, Kara." Jon forced out, looking bewildered and starting to tip towards angry. "We do it because we want to, we have an obligation to help. It's the right thing to do. Maybe you're right in the sense that they...they don't thank us enough, but what else am I supposed to do? Sit around with all this ability to help and do nothing?" From a young age his father had tried to steer him away from the hero life, tried to shelter him, but it was his mother who shook him from this false idea that Jon could somehow ignore his powers, the responsibility that would come with them.

Watching the pair go back and forth was enough to get power rippling under Jon's skin, teeth gritting and grinding together. He tried not to get too emotional, let his anxiety and confusion get the best of him. His solar flare wasn't something he could control, had almost killed people before when he was younger. He bit his tongue to keep it under control—as best he could. Maybe Jon could've done better, could've tried to learn more from his dad and from Kara. Had she always felt so alienated from this planet? From them?

Jon's blood went cold. The tension and dread in the air snapped in the moment, charging it with something else entirely. He opened his mouth and was shoved back into his seat before he could. He let out a grunt and glared. Kon was trying to protect him, he knew this, but he wasn't a child. Not anymore. He hadn't been for a long time. "You can't think it's a good idea, can you? Honestly, tell me what you plan to get out of this other than the blood of thousands of people on your hands, Kara. Not Magneto. That's all you." Maybe it was harsh, but he had to break through. Somehow, anyway he could. "All because of what, Kara? Everything can't possibly be bad? Have pushed you to this? There's all these people who do appreciate and try to make this a home for you. We're not Krypton, we never will be, and I'm sorry. I really am. You deserved a true home, but even Krypton would have it faults. Just like Earth does." Standing from his seat, Jon's eyes turned red as he looked at his cousin...his family, the threat of his heat vision there but not acted on yet. He didn't want to hurt her, never his family. "I'm not letting you put our family in the Raft because you won't give humanity a chance. Because that'd what they'd do, Kara. They'd target us if you do that. I know you don't want to do this, you can't want to do this." He wasn't entirely sure if this pushing was a good idea, but something had to make her see she was acting completely out of character—how bad an idea this was.

KARA: "Wouldn't give humanity a chance?"

Kara pivoted around until she faced the window. There was a whole city out there, lights lit behind a sea of windows like stars. "Oh, I've given humanity a chance." Her voice curled around the words, a low simmer bubbling behind them. "I've tried for years. I wore glasses and fumbled and made myself smaller and smaller. Then I did exactly like you said, Jon. All these powers and I've done nothing but help them. And how have they responded?"

She turned back towards them, hands clenched at her sides. "They waged war. They made papers and laws and nooses that just get tighter and tighter because we're not their heroes, we're their monsters. Not because we've ever tried to hurt them, but because we're different. That's all we've ever been, is different."

Rao, Kara was so tired of squeezing herself into a mold for which she was never meant.

"All I wanted was a place to call home." Her voice broke just around the edges. Cat Grant had always said to find the anger behind the anger, and Kara only had to question it for as long as it took her to remember she would never fit Earth's standard for normal. "A-and this planet just won't let me."

Her breath left in a shaky huff, and she had to remind herself to pull in another. She wanted to fly through the Earth, rip it layer from layer until it stopped hurting so much. "I shouldn't have expected you to understand. You don't have to pretend to be human. You grew up here. You know their language, their– all their references. You only know one God, you–

"You're so human." She met the glow in Jon's eyes head on, gaze shifting between him and his brother. Their actions colored them alien, but they weren't Kryptonian, either. "I'm doing this. You choose whether or not you'll be obstacles."

KON: "So they stumble, they fail and your next step is falling in league with a genocidal maniac?" The words were said in pure exasperation, his breath coming out in short puffs that might've been laughs in any other context. He watched her turn, watched her steel herself in her resolve as she looked out their window, though at what he couldn't say. 

Maybe she was searching for Rao in the night sky, maybe she was sneering at the city below, maybe she was looking at her own reflection and pondering what had led her there, maybe, perhaps, she wasn't looking at much of anything at all. 

Kon's jaw clenched, his throat tightened and he could feel a white hot prickle in the corner of his eyes as she continued to speak. He could hear the mix of anger and pain in her voice and while it broke his heart, while the very sound of it had him wanting to pull her and Jon, hell even Clark, into his arms to try and squeeze together the broken pieces into something that wasn't constantly on the verge of falling apart there was a larger part of him that was screaming that he needed to get away. 

She was dangerous, stronger than him and Jon even if they worked together and she seemed to be holding on by a thread that was slowly unraveling right in front of them both. 

"It's- it's not humanity's fault that you chose a lame alter-ego!" 

His mouth snapped shut once more, his eyes narrowing as he tried to control his breathing. The last thing he wanted was for Kara to know that, in all honesty, he was scared. Terrified, even. 

Because, at the end of the day, Kara was right. The registry was unconstitutional at best and the criminalization and demonization of anyone they thought as a threat. But that wasn't what most people wanted.

"Kara..." he tried, his tense posture softening enough for him to reach out toward her before her eyes landed back on them both. In an instant it seemed that the air had been sucked out of the room and he cursed Jon for his short-sightedness. He loved his brother but he was going to get them both killed.

"Sit." He ordered Jon, his tone making it clear that there would be no argument before he met Kara head on, his own eyes glowing in a hallow warning considering how dim the light pooling in his eyes looked in direct comparison to Kara's. 

He could feel the heat of them even from across the table and he swallowed shakily. 

"Don't you dare put the weight of your choices on our shoulders," he seethed.

He was tired, tired and heartbroken and worried sick by the blank look on Jon's face.

"You're family," he said, "and we love you. Please don't lead where we can't follow." 

He glanced back down at Jon before running a hand through his hair. "Get out." He finally said. He tried to hold her gaze but found that he couldn't, his eyes dropping to the table.

JON: watched the pair in varying levels of horror and uncertainty. He knew he could be impulse, shortsighted in what the end goal could be, but his nerves were getting the best of him. His dad always said that he let his impulsive nature get the best of him, but he wanted--needed to protect them all. Protect Kara from herself, from whatever bad decision she was making despite the fact his chest felt empty and hollow, sharp words ringing in his ears.

Biting his tongue, red eyes immediately snapped to the other Kent, "I'm not a--" baby. Despite always being made to feel like one. Maybe it was the natural urge between siblings to prove yourself that was rearing its ugly head but he felt an equal amount of rage flare up in his chest for the briefest second for Conner. It didn't matter, did it? Maybe he would be to them just as bad as Clark was in their eyes. He got it all, while they got nothing, the barest hints of scraps and finally Kara had enough of it, enough of giving and giving and getting nothing in return from the world.

All expression was wiped from Jon's face, eyes dimming back to their normal shade of blue and he sat heavily on the couch. His arms loosely crossed over his chest, eyes flickering back over to Kara, or the image of her that he didn't recognize. The image that could've been there all along, but they had chosen not to see. "After all, how can we bear the brunt of those decisions being half breeds?" The snide comment was out before Jon could stop it, hurt feelings bubbling to the surface and boiling over like an unwatched pot. "Are we family? We're so human. Did you mean any of what you would say? Did you--" He lets out a harsh breath and swallows hard, shaking his head. He didn't want to know.

"You heard him. Leave."

KARA: It was almost enough to make her stall. She thought again of a cliff, of her hands digging into loose gravel and failing, slipping, falling. Her family meant so much to her. How it felt to see her crest on a new generation was indescribable.

Magneto had told her she would be forging herself a new home, that he would help. And Kara had imagined she would do so with family. For all the anger curling and twisting under her skin, she'd wanted Jon and Kon to stand with her. She'd wanted them to understand. A victory could feel hollow and empty. She could stand joyless in the aftermath.

But they stood defiant and the thoughts slipped away. Something seemed to tear as they did. Whatever reservations held before shattered, the small voice screaming stop muted like a hand had been slapped over her mouth. Leave, leave, leave. Her breath caught and dragged and if she'd been trying before, she couldn't. Not anymore.

They didn't want the crest, they didn't deserve it. Her eyes dimmed to cool blue, but red snaked through her veins, a sharp, eery glow. "It's not your blood. It's your choice."

She took a step back, trying to breathe around something the turmoil in her mind wouldn't let her feel. "Just stay out of my way."

And just as quickly as she came, she left.