#deflect and let the internet do its thing
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it takes a special kind of shamelessness to flaunt the greatest robbery ever in the sport that caused unthinkable mental distress and racial abuse to a driver, while preaching #driveitout and whatever other token hashtags this organization has invented.
it is probably posted to bait teamLH, a behavior insanely toxic in itself. but again, is there a better way to take away focus from their internal shitstorm than this?
#oh but wait they will be the first one to cry about how online toxicity bad 🥺#deflect and let the internet do its thing#sounds perfect to me#hell isn't hot enough istg#tw racism mention#racism mention tw#f1#abu dhabi gp 2022
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Your dmc headcanons are awesome! Are you familiar with Star Wars? If so can you do all four of the dmc boys with a Jedi s/o? They have the power of the force, a cool lightsaber, and wears those cool Jedi robes, perhaps even have a cool spaceship they use when they need to travel back to space, it’s up to you.
Thank you 💜 While I'm not a star wars fan, I know quite a bit about Jedi. Here you go, and hope you enjoy!
Sparda boys + V x Jedi!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-Dante loses it entirely upon discovering you're a Jedi. No, he doesn't know what that is, but you have telekinesis (kinda)!? And a long glory sword?! And a spaceship?! It's so freaking cool!
-Begs you to teach him how to use the Force--he wants to be able to hit Vergil with various objects from across the room.
-Is really, really interested in your lightsaber too, like a little kid messing around with tool's he's never seen before.
-Wants to spar with you all day, every day, so he can see your cool Jedi powers in action. We're talking epic sword fights, scenarios where you deflect his bullets with The Force, and generally horsing around and being goofy, cause that's what he's like.
-If you take him with you on trips in your spaceship, he's gonna be so impressed. He could spend hours just wandering around, touching and looking at all the weird yet awesome stuff you've got in there. He thinks it's so badass.
-If, however, you must leave for deep space without him, Dante will understand. He'll spend his time training so he can fight you when you get back--he might also try to teach himself to use the force by meditating, lifting up rocks, and the like. He does have potential, who knows, he might even get it someday.
■ Vergil ■
-He doesn't care much about your spaceship or your boring robes, but the Force? Now that, that is power.
-Vergil needs power. You will teach him The Force, regardless of whether or not he actually has Jedi potential, otherwise you will suffer the rage of the Motivated One.
-He likes your lightsaber, too, but he'll never admit it. The bright neon colors command his attention akin to the way a laser pointer commands that of a small and furry cat.
-Sometimes when you're in the shower or busy with something non-Jedi related, he will borrow your lightsaber, take it out to the backyard, swing it around a few times and revel in its awesomeness.
-He likes the look of your spaceship, but not riding in it. Poor Vergil gets motion sickness from traveling through hyperspace.
-When you leave for deep space missions (if such a thing ever arises) Vergil will miss you terribly and deign to distract himself by putting on one of your spare robes and taking a nap in it. Don't judge him, it's calming.
□ Nero □
-Thinks your lightsaber is badass as hell and wants Nico to figure out how to integrate one into his arm so he can have a lightsaber hand or something like that.
-The Force is also really interesting because he can ask you to grab him something and it will come literally floating towards him. A couple times it even hits him in the face
-Will definitely use your powers to play tricks on Dante, Nico, and pretty much everyone else he knows, tricking them into thinking there's a ghost haunting his house, when in actuality, it's just you and your Jedi tricks.
-Doesn't care much for your spaceship, unfortunately, and won't ride in it unless you make him. He doesn't like air travel in general, let alone a massive spaceship that goes faster than speed of light.
-When you leave for deep space, as you often have to do, Nero will continue to call and/or text you. He doesn't care if outer space has no internet, he WILL check on you at least once a day.
-Regarding your cool Jedi robes, it's safe to say Nero has exactly one use for them: using them as a blanket.
● V ●
-The Force is an incredible ally to the two of you, and not just for fighting. Now, V has a way to get around with having you physically carry him; he can be moved with the Force.
-Considering that V has the makings of a Jedi himself (or maybe a Sith *cough* Kylo Ren *cough*) it's no surprise he shows interest in your pretty lightsaber.
-He likes the colors and the sounds, so much so that he decided to write a poem about it and put said poem on the refrigerator.
-He likes to watch you train too, wishing he had the strength to wield such a powerful weapon and such interesting abilities. However, his cane will do.
-He likes to wander around your spaceship, if he has time and you will allow him to. He may also join you on your travels, though most of the time he just stays in the ship and looks out the window because he isn't physically capable of traveling across unknown planets.
-Unfortunately, sometimes you have to leave by yourself, and when that happen, V will spend his time writing melancholy poems about you, listening to sad music, and generally being emo until you return. Then and only then will he smile again.
#Dmc#Dmc5#Devil may cry#Devil may cry 5#Dmc dante#Dmc vergil#Dmc Nero#Dmc v#Dmc5 dante#Dmc5 vergil#Dmc5 Nero#Dmc5 v#Devil may cry dante#Devil may cry vergil#Devil may cry Nero#Devil may cry v#Devil may cry 5 dante#Devil may cry 5 vergil#Devil may cry 5 Nero#Devil may cry 5 v#dante x reader#vergil x reader#nero x reader#v x reader#dmc dante x reader#dmc vergil x reader#dmc nero x reader#dmc v x reader#Requested#thanks for requesting
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ISRAEL REALTIME — Oct 29 morning updates
— IDF SAYS… has increased the number of troops on the ground as part of its expanded operation in Gaza. Forces are also operating deeper in the enclave than they have since the start of the war.
— IDF ATTACKS… fighter jets struck some 450 Hamas targets in the Gaza Strip over the past day. The targets included command centers, observation posts, and anti-tank guided missile launch positions.
— IDF INJURIES… conflicting reports, IDF says 2, one serious. Sky News says 6 dead.
— IDF DEMOLISHES… the home of a terrorist who was involved in the attack in which three members of the Dee family were killed, the home in the Askar area on the outskirts of Shechem (Nablus). During the operation, shooting and explosives were fired at the forces who responded with accurate fire. 3 terrorists were killed and at least ten were injured.
— IDF SAYS… “Civilians in northern Gaza, in Gaza City should temporarily move south of Wadi Gaza to a safer area, where they can receive water, food, and medicine.”
— IDF GROUND OP PHOTO LINK… https://idfanc.activetrail.biz/ANC281023003645
— SKIRMISHES SHOMRON (West Bank)… Clashes broke out between terrorists and IDF forces in the town of Abu Dis, east of Jerusalem.
— US BASE NORTH SYRIA ATTACKED… The American Al Shadadi base was attacked by 2 suicide drones. Pro-Iranian militias took formal responsibility.
— IN FLIGHT… flight tracker shows 48 US C-17’s in flight to the Middle East, and 2 UK C-17’s. American military transport planes will land at bases in Jordan.
— ADAM / GEVA BINYAMIN (West Bank town north of Jerusalem)… a security exercise will be held in the Karchum Street area between the hours of 9:30 and 12:30. During the exercise, there will be movement of security forces. It’s a drill.
— ARIEL PROTEST (West Bank Jewish city)… Protestors in front of the city's kindergartens, where Arab workers with a "blue identity card" are supposed to be admitted (not clear whether to work or their children). The residents stand with signs - "I want to live!" And "not ready to let in enemies"!
— POLITICS… around midnight, PM Netanyahu tweeted “The Prime Minister's Office stated in response to erroneous reports: Under no circumstances and at no stage was Prime Minister Netanyahu warned of Hamas' intention to start a war.” The public response to blame deflection during the war is ANGER. MK Gantz (war cabinet) replied this morning, “When we are at war, leadership must show responsibility, do the right things and strengthen the forces in the way they are will be able to realize what we demand of them. Any other action or statement - harms the people's ability to stand and their strength.
The Prime Minister must retract his statement last night, and stop dealing with the issue.” A number of politicians msg’d the same this morning.
After the harsh criticism: Netanyahu deleted the tweet.
— EU SAYS… EU foreign policy chief Josep Borrell urges a “pause of hostilities” to allow humanitarian aid into the Gaza Strip. “UNRWA warns about the desperate situation of Gaza people without electricity, food, water. A pause of hostilities is urgently needed to enable humanitarian access.”
— GAZA INTERNET RETURNING… Telephone and internet connectivity are returning gradually to the Gaza Strip, Reuters reports citing Palestinian media outlets. Internet activity monitors show this is accurate.
— WATER RULE CHANGE… private water consumers who host residents who have been evacuated will be able to receive additional water at the low rate of the first level on their bill. Contact your water provider.
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Between the Lines- Ep. 5
Warnings- PG-13 due to Swearing and Explicit Language, Mature Themes, possible Violent References
Index
Ep. 4
I knew for sure that I’d cracked once the angry hecklers started rolling in and I just felt a sense of amusement. At this point, I wished that the case was as simple to solve as “the creepy strangers did it”. Maybe then I’d get my own life back.
Fuck, I should have just let her win the vote. If they really wanted me to go, why should I fight it? She wasn’t my friend, it really wasn’t my problem. I should just send her what I had and tell her to have fun. She could deal with her sister’s secret sins and I’ll go back to watching cat videos in all of my abundant spare time.
Frankly, Duskwood had brought me nothing but problems so far.
I snarked back at some of the strangers’ messages and when Dan accused Jake of running, I bit my tongue to prevent saying that the Hacker had started running before any of this started. I knew the accusations had the potential to become a real issue for me eventually, but why fight it? Jake was the only one who could do anything, and he’d decided to have nothing to do with me.
It’d take a while to become an issue for me anyway. Lilly didn’t know anything about me outside of my name and number and I wasn’t sure how long it would take for a video from a girl in Germany to make its way to the Mid-Western US but I suspected it’d be a bit, if at all. If she hadn’t linked the video in the chat, there was a chance I wouldn’t have seen it before I started getting attacked.
I was pretty surprised she knew Jake’s name though. Maybe he really had been Hannah’s lover, if her sister knew about him. Guess that would explain why he’d think it’s wrong— flirting with a random chick while investigating the disappearance of your secret girlfriend was impressively gross.
I distantly appreciated Richy’s attempts to cheer me up and Jessy asking for time off for a surprise. I played along despite myself, letting him think it was helping while thinking about how I’d have to get Jake to turn off spy mode at some point, I wouldn’t need it anymore. I didn’t really want to read about their lives once I was no longer involved.
When he did log on, I was distracted from asking him to do that by my surprise that he didn’t already know. Guess avoiding me extended as far as reading my chats. He agreed to take care of it, and that was that. Professional, cool, just like he wanted.
I felt my first real emotion since I’d cried my heart out to Annie, and it was rage. It swept over me with a force I didn’t know was possible. After everything, everything that I had given and done, for him… he told Lilly something about himself. Something he refused to share with the rest of the class.
I knew, what? That his hair was black, and he liked his islands to have internet. I’d thought knowing his name was special but apparently fucking not. And now, she’d thrown us under the bus to protect her friends and because of that, she got to know something I didn’t.
I couldn’t help myself, demanding he tell me. After all the time I’d spent making myself do little more than gently prod, teasingly, and accepting it when he’d deflect. I could barely see straight as I made it clear I was done waiting.
And though I didn’t tell him this, when he admitted he was wanted, part of me wasn’t at all surprised, considering it felt like the most obvious thing in the world. Nothing else fit his behavior, really, unless he really was a 17 year old Edgelord with a V for Vendetta fetish.
Despite the fact that I, on some level, already knew what he was telling me, the confession tamped down on some of my rage. Unfortunately, that only made room for the fear that his disappearance would cause. I didn’t know if it was fear for him, for me, for Hannah. But dread had settled in my chest, and I suspected it would stay for a while
___
Asking Dan about Jennifer was either a really good, or really bad idea. Only time would tell which. But I had my reasons. He’d proven to me with his drunken ramblings that he at least cared— giving me the info on the bracelet, admitting to helping Thomas get into Hannah’s apartment. He was bored enough at the hospital that despite his protests, I knew he’d make time to talk. Finally, he was the least likely to pull his punches. Jessy might be less likely to lie to me, but more likely to be careful about how she said things. Dan probably wouldn’t think before he talked.
He didn’t know much, but since he mentioned it as being a long time ago, similar to Hannah, I figured that for anyone who didn’t have the same level of trauma she seemed to have surrounding the event it was the first time they’d thought about it in ages.
I didn’t know if I believed that the killer wasn’t from Duskwood. It seemed to me a bit more likely that the decision was made out of discomfort, the same way that the news of the body had been tucked away in the paper.
Hannah would be too young to have likely been capable of murder, especially of an adult. It seemed more likely to me that her guilt stemmed from hiding something— maybe she’d witnessed it, or even helped cover it up.
Other than knowing for sure that Jennifer was dead, I didn’t get much to go on. Still, Dan seemed to enjoy the ego stroke of being the one I asked, so it wasn’t totally pointless. He was a big part of why I’d been allowed to stay, after all.
Richy trying to keep us from confronting Thomas about his toy trampling rage was either really sweet, or really suspicious. I couldn’t really decide which. Either way, Thomas definitely seemed to be losing it a bit. I was worried that confronting him might just make it worse, especially considering he’d already voted against me with Lilly. If he was even half as destructive as she was, it wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, I could definitely empathize with the desire to lose it right about now.
I couldn’t hold myself back from confiding in Richy and Jessy about the calls. I knew it was stupid, those should be something I keep close to my chest since I didn’t want to tip off the culprit that they were getting to me, but I just wanted some damn sympathy already. Jake had his reasons for not taking them seriously, and I knew that, but I needed someone to talk about Poor MC for a minute and let me whine.
Jessy, as always, was a superstar about it, immediately supporting me. And the solidarity from Richy made me smile, even if Jessy didn’t appreciate our coping methods.
Still, the fact that she immediately picked up on the fact that the caller was one of the group was surprising. She was by no means dumb, just a bit oblivious and I was surprised to see her doubt her friends unprompted. I’d wondered before if her willingness to believe the legend was at all related to the hope that no one she knew was guilty, so I hadn’t expected her to acknowledge any proof that implied otherwise.
Still, I didn’t know if letting that slip was a good idea, so I was mildly glad that Richy seemed to reject the idea. Not because I agreed, but because I’d been trying to keep the group from splintering and this would risk those efforts.
Dan’s attempts to deny responsibility for his accident got under my skin, but I clamped down on that and considered my response carefully. Of course I didn’t believe him, his story didn’t fit the M.O. in the slightest. There were no ties to the legend, no stalking or markings. So far, the kidnapper had been more direct, kidnapping Hannah, dumping the unknown body. They risked no ambiguity and took responsibility for their deeds-- at least behind the mask.
Still. I’d barely just started to make leeway with Dan. Did it make sense to feed into us delusions, let him pretend he didn’t make a stupid choice that endangered others and he was lucky to survive?
As a “friend”, and a person who generally cared? No, not at all. As an investigator, though. And with Jake gone and not reading along, I had to play both roles, so I bit back my more sarcastic retort and forced myself to smile at my phone.
“I believe you, Dan.”
And my BS came in handy, since not long after that he gave me Jennifer’s last name.
___
Annie had been managing the impressive feat of both avoiding me while somehow hovering. It was like being followed by a ghost— she said very little to me, maybe afraid of another emotional outburst, but always seemed to be keeping an eye on me.
Frankly, it was making me want to pull my hair out. I nearly snapped at her to leave me alone several times, but whenever I caught sight of her face—very worried and tense— I’d sigh and let it go.
So I was pleasantly surprised when she let me know she was going out one Wednesday afternoon just as I logged out of work. She explained it away as an appointment and errands, and I smiled in a way that probably didn’t reach my eyes as I waved her away with promises that I’d be fine.
Not twenty minutes later, it became clear why she’d been okay leaving me alone as a knock on the door pulled me from my podcast and mindless doodling. Opening the door without looking resulted in the air rushing out of me completely and a pair of sunglasses knocking me in the forehead before they fell off the top of my sister’s head.
“Em Em!” She cried excitedly, and my eyes widened in shock.
“Paige? What are you doing here?” I automatically moved aside to let her in, noticing the suitcase and extra large purse. We lived a bit far apart for a day visit, but the sheer size of her luggage made me suspicious.
“Can’t a girl visit her big sister?” She teased, batting her eyes as she set down her bags and retrieved her fallen sunglasses. Plopping them on the top of her head to push back her hair in a way that showcased her effortless beauty, she ran an appraising eye up and down my body. “You look like shit.”
“Gee, love you too, P.”
She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively at me as she started into the living room to get comfortable on the couch. “You know what I’m saying.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, not yet moving from my place by the door. “Right, not like you’ve ever insulted my looks before.”
She had the grace to look chagrined even though I’d been harassing her about it for years. She’d been rather tactless as a teenager, and had once asked me whether “all sisters considered themselves the ‘pretty one’” or was it just her. It was still something I thought about when I felt insecure, but I’d forgiven her for it long ago.
“You’re lovely,” she assured me. I knew I wasn’t grotesque, but I was far more plump than conventionally attractive, without the defined waist she’d been blessed with, and rather plain features. My most remarkable trait was my pile of curly brown hair that I considered a nuisance, but Paige had always envied compared to her fine, sleek hair that refused to hold a curl no matter how hard she worked at it.
Rolling my eyes, I finally moved away from the door and busied myself making tea rather than coffee since it was late enough in the day to make the latter a bit risky for mere mortals like her. “You’re not distracting me, flattery only gets you so far. Let me guess, Annie called you?”
“She was worried,” she grumbled by way of admission. “She said you’ve been down and acting weird. I’ve barely heard from you in weeks, and Dad said the same.”
I waved my hands in annoyance, the teabags flapping in the air with the movement. “How would he know? He replies once a month. If that.”
She shrugged. “Right, but you usually try.”
Despite knowing she was right, I felt irritation flash across my features. “Well excuse me if I got tired of my own father ignoring me. He’s off doing who the fuck knows what, and you’re not the most reliable at responding either you know. Why should I reach out if it’s pointless?” I snapped hotly.
She came over and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, pushing up on her toes slightly to rest her chin on my shoulder. “M. It’s not like that.”
“No?” I asked. “How often do you reach out first if it’s not to ask for help with something?”
“I’m sorry. I know I should try harder. It’s just…”
I knew what it was. In her teen years, I’d become a weird mom-sister hybrid. Even once I’d moved away, she still saw me as something of an authority figure despite our three year difference starting to mean less and less in terms of the disparity in our life experience. Between that and her busy schedule, I mostly heard from her when she crashed her car or needed to find a doctor for something, as well as the occasional drunk dial when she was trying to avoid calling her ex.
In the last year, she’d finally been able to move from working at a makeup counter and doing prom looks to getting more gigs around her real passion. She’d landed a few low-budget indie films, some photo shoots where she’d been given more creative control, and local plays with larger audiences. That meant her work hours were pretty chaotic, and since I normally had the sleep needs of your average 80-year-old, it made it hard to find time we were both available. I usually tried to text something every now and then for her to see when she woke up, and she would send me pictures of new looks she was experimenting with.
In her off time she wore little-to-no makeup herself, quoting an airy “if you’re good at something, never do it for free,” but I knew that really it was at least partially because she much preferred techniques that were dramatic rather than pretty. When we were young, she’d always whine until I let her do my makeup for any costume party, silly event or Halloween, and as we got older it went from face paint whiskers to dramatic interpretations of sea creatures and mystical spirits. They weren’t always very nice looking, one or two could even be considered grotesque, but they always impressed at the parties I went to.
She’d also fooled my dad into letting her skip school several times using her “pale and drawn” look, which subsequently had become one of her most practiced by the time she graduated.
I, meanwhile, was still working on keeping liquid eyeliner marginally straight.
I was proud of her, how could I not be? But I’d often been jealous of her passion, and how easily she’d found what she wanted to do with her life. Getting there was hard work, but figuring it out had been simple. I’d so far only discovered what I didn’t want to do, and a couple of things I didn’t totally hate.
The tea steeped as we stood there together, and once I snapped out of my reverie and decided it had brewed enough, I moved both mugs to the counter and pulled up a bar stool. She grabbed herself the milk and sugar and mixed her tea to her liking as I began to sip mine plain.
She let me muse into my tea as long as she could— she was the only person I knew who was worse at silence than I was. “I planned for a week visit if that’s okay with you. Annie already ok’d it, I asked when she called since I knew you guys used to fight about her having people over too much.”
I raised my eyebrows. I don’t think she’d spent a week with me total since I’d moved nearly ten years before. What had Annie told her?
“I also promised plenty of gifts to bribe her with. Some makeup samples, booze, some random autographs I planned to use as Christmas gifts when I felt like being cheap.” She grinned at me, knowing that my roommate was easily swayed by fashion and men.
I snorted and rolled my eyes, thinking back to the times she and Annie had gotten drunk together over the few visits she’d made out here.
Seizing on that tiny crack in my mood, she ran over to my side of the counter and took my hand with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Come on, I want to try a new look your coloring is perfect for.”
Leaving no room for argument, she dragged me out of the kitchen.
___
I should have figured there was some kind of ulterior motive, because as soon as I was seated and she’d set up all of the products she wanted me to use, she started in on me.
“So you gunna tell me what has Annie all worked up?”
I tried to look away but she grabbed my chin and pulled me back into the correct position as she started rubbing something onto my skin.
“I’m just stressed Paige,” I said, knowing she’d never believe it if I tried to say nothing. “Work is rough lately and I don’t know, I just haven’t been in the best mood.”
“Right but she said you cried. Breakdown level cried. Are you still taking your meds? What about therapy?”
I had to mumble to talk without moving my jaw as she painted on something to “sharpen my lines”, whatever that means. “Meds, yes, therapy, no,” I answered briefly to keep my movements to a minimum.
She backed up for a second and eyed her progress at different angles. “Think you maybe should do therapy again?”
I shrugged, earning a small tap on my shoulder in reproach. “It’s situational. I cried once, Paige. I’m not having a crisis.”
“Aren’t you? Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. I’m just… worried, okay? I remember how you got back then and I know how easy it would be to go back there.”
“I’m older now, and stronger. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Even to my own ears it rang false.
She closed her eyes for a second and sighed— it looked like she was trying to steady herself. “MC. I’m not calling you weak. But I know you. You complain more when you’re healthy, it’s when things are bad that you hide. I know you think of me as a kid. Hell, I act like it sometimes. But I can take it, please.”
I searched her face. My heart broke at the sadness and hurt I saw in it. There was fear there, too. I hadn’t realized that my bad depressive episode had impacted her that badly. I’d thought she was too young to really grasp it at the time, but she was right, I had always seen her as a kid. And she hadn’t been for a while.
Looking up at my beautiful, impulsive, creative sister and finally seeing an adult, I carefully started speaking.
I glossed over some things, especially where Jake was concerned, just saying that the guy I’d been working closely with had been put in danger by the video and he had to stop investigating for a while. I downplayed some of the threats I’d gotten, too, not wanting to scare her too much.
But I told her about Jessy and her ready acceptance of me. Of how the rest of the group regarded me with suspicion even though they’d brought me in, but she took almost no time to befriend me. I told her about the flirting with Jake, how it started mostly teasing but I got attached. How it seemed like he felt the same but said it wouldn’t work. I attributed it to the distance and the case, but the sting of rejection still rang clear in my voice.
I told her about Hannah, and the things I’d found (luckily she didn’t ask how I’d found them, tech wasn’t her thing either) and how I felt like I was learning things she never wanted anyone to know. How I felt like she was taking over my life but I was too invested to stop now. We went over Dan’s accident, Richy getting marked, Cleo being harassed. By the time I finished, my mouth was dry from talking so much, and she’d stopped working on my face to just stare at me with something akin to horror.
Her concern was palpable, and I couldn’t blame her. Saying everything out loud only made it more clear just how deep I’d gotten myself, and how little sense it made.
“They have… police… in Germany. Right?” She asked haltingly.
“Well, yes,” I acknowledged. “But there doesn’t seem to have been any progress for a while, and her friends are really worried. If I can help, why shouldn’t I?”
She knelt down in front of me, compassion filling her eyes. “MC, I mean this with all of the love in the world. But why should you? There are thousands of missing women in the world right now. Millions, maybe. You can’t save them all. You probably can’t save any of them. It’s wearing you down, and you know it.”
“I’m too far in for that, P. I know how it looks. And I should have left when it started, but I didn’t. It’s too late now.”
She wanted to argue more— we spent our teen years doing little else beyond fighting so I’d probably seen that look on her face more than any other at this point— but something in my tone, or maybe the set of my jaw, made her shoulders sag in resignation.
She picked her brush back up instead. “Alright, then. Let’s get you finished here and we’ll chat about the guy instead.”
___
It took another hour to finish, though at least some of that was because she had to stop more than once to laugh at me (or him) for just how bad we were at it.
“What the hell happened to you, M? You’ve always been awkward, but this is just a whole new level.”
I shrugged, my eyes closed to keep them safe from the setting spray she was spritzing. “I think I got worse at it as we went, actually.”
She turned me a bit and started twisting my hair into something that almost looked like a braid. She didn’t work with hair professionally, she just hated my constant messy bun. “You know, that makes a lot of sense for you. Originally you didn’t give a fuck. That’s when you’re most charming. Remember Andrew?”
I felt my face heat up under what seemed like the amount of makeup I normally wore in a year. “I THOUGHT WE WERE KIDDING!” I nearly shouted.
She chuckled at my embarrassment. “I know, and yet you ruined that poor boy. He still asks about you sometimes.”
I’d have buried my face in my hands if she hadn’t tightened her fist into a death grip around my hair when she felt me start to tip my head down. “Don’t you dare!” She scolded, tying off the ends and doing a final once-over to make sure she was pleased. She must have been, because she stood me up and turned me toward the mirror.
I gasped as I looked at myself. True to norm whenever she was able to do what she wanted, no one would ever be able to call the look pretty. But it was breathtaking. She’d somehow managed to make my normally round, chubby features look sharp, harsh. The only overt references to the ice motif she’d planned were two small snowflakes she’d drawn, one over my left eyebrow and one on my jaw, just below where the right side of my lips ended.
The majority of the makeup was various shades of white, including my lashes, but my lips were a metallic silver. I was shocked to see that my eye makeup transitioned between a dark blue into jade, rather than the lighter blue or silver I’d have expected.
She saw me inspect the eyes and grinned. “I did some research on icebergs. In Antarctica they’ve found green ones. They think it has to do with the amount of iron in the area. It changes the way the ice absorbs different colors of light.”
“So I’m the nerd, but you just… research icebergs for fun?”
She laughed and nudged me with her hip. “Do you like it?”
I nodded. “It’s amazing. I don’t look anything like me, I have no clue how you do it. But didn’t you say my colors were “fall and earthy” or some shit? Why am I perfect for this?”
She smirked. “Mainly because you never leave the house or get sun, so I had to use less of the base on you.”
Smacking her arm lightly, I reached for my phone to take a few pictures. She took it out of my hand and started trying to pose me how she liked it best, adjusting the lighting to get the shadows to cast the way she liked.
Once she was finally pleased with the pictures she got, she sent some to herself for her portfolio and handed me back my phone, which I used to order takeout. We got along much better than we used to, but all it took was one of us becoming hangry to reduce us to squabbling teens again, and I suspected Annie wouldn’t be amused to return to a WWF match.
While we waited for the food, we sat on the couch and I turned on some music. We mainly scrolled on our phones, but it was nice to not be alone.
“It needs a lot of work,” she grumbled, looking at the pictures for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “It really only works in print right now, since the shading on your jaw and cheekbones isn’t dynamic. If you move, it completely destroys the effect.”
I shrugged. “Most of your models will also have the jaws and cheekbones to make it more convincing. I’ve just got a baby-face. Though at my age I’m pretty sure it’s not baby fat anymore no matter what Mom said…”
“Sure, but the part I like is the transformation.” Her eyes sparkled as she flipped through her picture to show me more examples, many of which I’d seen on her professional account already. She had a modest, but rather faithful following, myself included. I’d long since stopped being her main model, but I did still pop up in some progress posts or the occasional Throwback Thursday. “It’s not just about the end result, it’s about how dramatic the difference is.”
I jumped up at the knock on the door, but couldn’t resist a retort over my shoulder. “You always were all about the drama.”
She snorted. “Am I the one in love with a literal stranger who I maybe know what country he’s in?”
The moment was temporarily broken by the alarmed look on the poor delivery driver’s face. It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t at Paige’s words, but my face. I’d forgotten that I hadn’t washed it off yet. “Sorry,” I mumbled as he quickly retreated with one last glance over his shoulder.
“Guess people don’t usually answer the door in costume when it’s months before Halloween,” she teased.
“You didn’t remind me on purpose!” I accused while I plopped the pizza box on the kitchen counter.
After that, we were mostly quiet for a while as we ate. She occasionally tutted at me when I’d get pizza on my face and come away with makeup on my napkin, but other than making fun of me for eating like a child, she didn’t say much else.
It wasn’t until I was rinsing the dishes that she spoke up. “His name is Jake, then?”
I whirled around and gaped at her. “What?”
She held up her phone, showing a still of Lilly’s video. It wasn’t on YouTube, but I didn’t recognize the site she was on. Someone must have downloaded the video before Jake convinced her to delete it.
“You said she included your number, and the missing girl’s name was Hannah. Made for a pretty easy search, really.”
“Since when are you a detective?” I grumbled.
“I could ask the same of you, M.”
I guess I couldn’t argue there. But it was disturbing how quickly she found it. I’d thought having it taken down would be a bit more like it hadn’t happened. Richy had said that the views were up to 4k or so, and as surprising as it was that it got that many that fast, that was still a small number. But things on the internet were sticky, and it only took one person to keep it alive.
“Right, well. Yes. His name is Jake.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And he’s clearly involved in some… stuff. He sounds a bit different here than you made him seem.”
“I mean, I sound pretty different through Lilly’s eyes, too. Look. I wont say he’s nice, or that he’s not weird, or even a little creepy. And yes, some of the things we’ve been doing aren’t the most… legal. But it’s not like it’s the first time that’s been true.”
“MC, this isn’t smoking some pot and running around after curfew. Have you read some of the comments on this?”
I cringed. “I tried not to after the ones on the original video. But I imagine the ones about him are about as accurate as the ones about me. I apparently run an international prostitution organization, you know.” I tried to say that one casually, since that had been one of the more ridiculous accusations I had thrown at me.
“Right, but several of these are saying he’s wanted. And you told me yourself he’s disappeared because of the video. You said it put him in danger.”
I blanched. His wanted status being publicly discussed probably wasn’t good. And not just because my sister was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as I decided that I may as well wash the dishes now.
“You knew,” she accused, coming over to the sink. “You knew he was on the run.”
“Only after the video,” I admitted in a tiny voice, not looking up from the sponge in my hands.
“I thought you were done with this,” she exploded, and I stared at her in shock. “It made sense in high school, okay? Running around with the bad boys in combat boots and Mohawks. But do you remember the shit you got into sometimes? Now you’re involved with a fugitive and you can’t even pretend you don’t know better!”
“We’re not involved!” I yelled back. “I told you he rejected me. Well, this is why. He said it was too dangerous.”
She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well at least one of you might not be a total idiot, then.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as I scrubbed circles over the over washed plate. My eyes blurred with tears and I tried to blink them away.
“MC,” she started again, but was interrupted by me bursting into tears without warning. Forgetting her anger, she walked over to me and took me in her arms, muttering soothing words as she led me away from the sink.
___
She was playing with my hair, my head in her lap, when she finally spoke up. “I can pull some strings, if you want. It’d take some convincing, I’d owe a few favors. But I still talk amiably enough to some of my old clients. We could fight fire with fire, post a response video.”
I thought for a minute. It’d feel great to fight back. I hadn’t realized just how angry I was at Lilly until I saw her video again and heard about what people were saying. I hadn’t felt this type of impotent rage since our mom had been diagnosed.
“No,” I said finally, not fully keeping the hesitation out of my voice. “I think at this point that would just make me look more suspicious. Right now, her accusations look ridiculous to anyone with half a brain. She has no proof. She doesn’t even know where I am, exactly. But it would just draw more attention to the first video and probably make things worse for Jake.”
Her eyes narrowed when I brought him up. “He can figure his own shit out. I’m talking about for you.”
“I know, and I love you for it. But I care about him too. I feel bad enough that I told you all this about him, I can’t risk making his life harder.”
She scratched my scalp, then twisted a lock of my hair around her finger. “You didn’t tell me shit, to be fair. She did. Which is part of why I’m worried about it.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
Her laugh was humorless. “Yeah, sure, okay. Look, I won’t pull the trigger yet, but I’m going to reach out to a few people I think might be willing to help. I won’t tell them anything other than I might need a favor. If it gets worse, you need to tell me, and we’ll figure something out. If this gets too bad, you could lose your job. It doesn’t have to be true, just has to make them look bad.”
I didn’t respond, just closing my eyes and enjoying the affection. Despite my rather prickly personality, I had always enjoyed physical contact with the people I was closest to, and that was something I couldn’t get easily from behind a screen.
“I want to meet them,” Paige announced, startling me from my light doze.
“Who?”
“The group. Maybe not Lilly, I’d rather not join you under that bus if I can help it. But the others, at least. I want to have some idea who I can tell the police to talk to if you go missing next.”
I bit my lip. Much like fighting back, it was tempting. My sister was better at people than I was, and it would be nice to get help while Jake was gone. But Jake would also never approve of bringing someone new in. Not to mention, I couldn’t risk her getting the same calls I was or putting her in danger.
That was the part that made me refuse her offer.
“I can’t put you in danger too. Jake thinks it’s one of them and I’m not sure I agree, but it’s hard to totally deny with the timing of things.”
Her fingers stilled. “You’re knowingly talking to a kidnapper, too?”
“Well, not knowingly. I just said we don’t know for sure.”
“But probably!” Her voice had become shrill, I guess she’d finally reached her limit of my bullshit. “This is insane, MC, you’ve gone insane. I get you’re safer because you’re not there, but that’s not safe. It would be expensive for them to get here but not all that hard if they have a passport. And look.”
She typed my name and number in to Google and scrolled to the third result. And there it was. A “people search” website with my address, and a couple of past ones, too. My age, some old phone numbers. Worst of all, under the “related person” section, links to my loved ones: My parents, Paige, even an ex I’d lived with for a while.
“Oh,” I muttered, scrolling through in horror.
I knew these sites existed. Hell, I’d used them years ago, to find contact people for the funeral. But the idea that a murderer with a vendetta could be using them didn’t really occur to me until now.
“You can opt out of these things, right?” I started searching the page for anything related to removal, my hands shaking as I did so.
“MC, MC, calm down!” She took her phone from my hands. “You’re fine, it’s fine. We’ll work on that tonight, and you can ask your hacker boyfriend where else to look.”
I scrunched up my face and mumbled “not my boyfriend” as she locked her phone screen and set it aside.
“I can’t stop you from doing this,” she sighed. “And I know you won’t stop. But please, take care of yourself, okay? And don’t push me away.”
I nodded, and she put her arm around my shoulder, then exhaled dramatically. “Shit, is being the mature one always this stressful?”
I laughed, pushing her away from me. “You mean like the time you got high and were convinced Mrs. Ruth’s bushes were fluffy enough that you could jump off the roof into them and be fine?”
She groaned at the memory and then stuck her tongue out at me. “And yet you’ve managed to out-stupid me with this one. Never thought I’d see the day!”
___
True to her word, once I’d calmed down a bit, we sat on my bed with a bottle of wine and spent the entire night purging as much data as we could. I left my social media mostly alone, since I’d stopped over-sharing personal stuff on those ages ago and had deleted a lot of the old stuff. But anything with addresses, or detailed location information had to go.
My employer was a national company, but I disabled my professional profiles, too, figuring I could always reactivate those when I started looking for a job next.
Paige had decided to take the opportunity to scrub her name, too. She would always need to have a larger online presence than I would, since a lot of her gigs were based on word of mouth and networks, but I felt better knowing that she’d be less at risk now that she knew more about the danger.
She hadn’t brought up wanting to meet everyone again, and I still wasn’t totally sold on throwing her into the line fire. But at this point, I felt confident enough that the culprit was a man that I figured she could probably meet Jessy. Cleo, too, since we’d been getting more friendly.
So I made a new group chat. I’d had enough wine by this point that the idea of naming the chat amused me, but had also had enough that coming up with something clever was difficult. So that was how I ended up making a group chat titled “All The Single Ladies” and adding Jessy, Cleo, and Paige.
Jessy is online.
Jessy: ?
MC: Sooooo
MC: My sister found Lilly’s video.
MC: You can imagine how hoppy she was.
MC: *happy
MC: She wanted to meet you guys.
MC: I decided to only show her the best of the group to start
Jessy: 🤭
Cleo is online.
Cleo: Hello, MC’s sister.
MC: Oh, she has a name.
MC: It’s Paige.
Next to me, Paige snorted.
Paige: Hello, MC’s internet friends.
Paige: I’m glad to meet at least some of you.
Jessy: Wait 😤
Jessy: Why are we the Single Ladies??
MC: I mean, aren’t we? 🤣
Paige: 🤦♀️
MC: I never said I was good at thinking of things.
Paige: I’m sure the wine isn’t helping that. You’ve had, what, 4 glasses?
MC: YOU POUR SO LITTLE IN.
Paige: That’s how you’re supposed to drink wine.
Cleo: Wait, are you two together?
MC: Yep! She came to visit!
Feeling silly, I took a picture of us and sent it to the chat.
Jessy: Hi Paige!
Jessy: I do have to go to work though, so I can’t talk much.
With a jolt, I looked over at my clock and realized it was 1am. Time had flown way faster than I’d thought.
MC: Shit, I have to start work in like 6 hours guys.
Jessy: Ooooh you’re gonna be cranky.
Paige: When isn’t she?
MC: Hey! I’m great.
Paige:😒
MC: ANYWAY. Go do your days guys, I just wanted to do this before I forgot. ❤️
Cleo: Good night!
After downing my glass of wine, I took a quick shower, leaving my hair unwashed. Paige was the morning-shower sort, but I hated waking up earlier than I absolutely had to, even to get clean.
While I was brushing my teeth, I couldn’t get away from the thought that my sister was right. If I was going to spend a chunk of time trying to clean up my information, it didn’t make sense not to ask for advice from the resources I had. I hadn’t wanted to worry him since he had problems of his own, but I could just ask, right?
MC: Hey so my sister knows about Lilly’s video. It’s fine. I mean okay not fine, she’s pissed, but she’ll deal. Anyway we spent the night trying to get rid of my address and stuff online. Those people search sites are bullshit. Anyway I thought you might know what else I could do, since I don’t know how much googling “how to hide from the murderer who is mad at you” would get me. No rush. Thanks!
I hit send and immediately regretted it. Not only was it the longest piece of word vomit I’d sent him by far, it made almost no sense. Hopefully his flaw would keep him from noticing whatever the mess of emotions was that had gone into that. Especially as I couldn’t even decipher them, myself.
I had time to lean over and spit before he replied.
Jake: I will take care of it.
MC: Oh no, I know you’re busy and stuff. You just know the internet a tiny bit better than I do so you might have advice.
Jake: MC. I’ll take care of it.
I had no idea why a silly grin spread across my face at that, but it stayed through the rest of my washing up. Even Paige’s suspicious glances as I crawled back into bed couldn’t get me to fully smother it.
___
I was surprisingly coherent the next day. Getting out of bed took longer than usual, but once I was up, I found myself less drained than I would have expected. Even having Paige there helped me focus on my work a bit better. At least, she could keep me updated on the Single Ladies chat enough that I wouldn’t feel the need to constantly check my phone.
I had the most productive morning I’d had in a long time, working to the soundtrack of my sister’s sarcasm and laughter. She told me stories of her life, ranted about something she found online, and occasionally pestered me just to remind me she was the little sister. Any time I wasn’t actively listening to a call, she filled the silence and it wasn’t nearly as annoying as I normally would have found it.
An hour or so before lunch, she made an excited noise in the back of her throat and turned to smile at me. “Those sites work fast!” She announced. “They already took down your profiles, I can’t find a single one!”
I bit back a smirk and acted surprised as she showed me the missing search results. Hers, too, were gone, and I felt a flood of gratitude at the effort he must have put in, even above what I’d asked.
When she looked away, I typed a quick “thank you”, knowing he’d understand.
___
The rest of the week dragged on a bit more. She mostly worked for herself at this point, so she made her own schedule, but she couldn’t totally vanish or risk missing future jobs. So the more convinced she became that I wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown, the more time she spent on her laptop or taking calls, and in the evening I often ended up covered in makeup again to keep her profiles active.
Unlike Annie, she knew better than to try to force me to go out of the house, but she tried to keep me busy regardless. We cooked, despite neither of us enjoying or being any good at it. We watched movies and played games. The truth is, I hadn’t thought about just how much I’d missed her. We’d had a rocky relationship as kids— we were very different people in ways that had seemed so important when we were younger, and the stress of our chaotic adolescence and there never being enough money to afford enough space for us both had added a lot of tension to our interactions.
But she really had grown up, and even though I was still prickly and unpleasant and she was still a lot more outgoing and loud than I was, we’d learned to read each other better in the intervening years enough that we could have fun.
“Alright you guys, so tell me about this hacker,” she demanded loudly to Jessy and Cleo, whose faces appeared on my tablet, as she blended something on my forehead.
I jumped a little, she hadn’t actually mentioned him in days and I’d been hoping, foolishly, that she’d forgotten.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cleo screw up her face while Jessy giggled at mine.
“Why would we talk about him?” Cleo asked, bewildered. Right. I guess it had just been Jessy that I’d had that humiliating conversation with.
Paige laughed, pinning her hair back on top of her head to keep it from sliding in her face as she bent over me. “If my sister’s going to be pining after him, I want to get some opinions first.”
“What?!” Cleo shouted, her eyes almost comically wide at the idea.
“Thanks Paige,” I groaned, biting the inside of my cheek to fight the overwhelming urge to hide my face in my hands. Louder, I spoke to the whole group. “I’m not chasing after him. I expressed an interest, he said no, I accepted it. Now we’re just friends, if you can even call it that. We talk about Hannah.”
I could have continued rambling, but Paige chose that moment to take my chin in her hands and hold my face steady enough to work on.
“Accepted it my ass,” she teased, taking advantage of my inability to fight back.
Meanwhile, Cleo’s befuddlement continued. “Wait, he rejected you? The Hacker? The one who took over the group chat just to keep you in it? He said he didn't like you?”
I pulled my jaw from Paige’s grip for a second to reply to that. “You guys read way too much into that vote thing, he’s just put a lot of effort into the investigation and didn’t want to risk having to do it alone if none of you would talk to me anymore. And it wasn’t like he said ew cooties gross. He just made it clear it wasn’t happening.”
Jessy chimed in there, “I’m still pretty sure he’s 60 or something and that’s why. He sure talks like it.”
I rolled my eyes at her, but didn’t bother interrupting or annoying Paige to reply to that one.
“Has he ever even said how he knows Hannah? MC, he had to tell you, right?”
I made a loud noise that I hope sounded enough like “no” to be understood. Luckily, they seemed to get it.
Jessy gasped. “Wait what were the initials on the bracelet? J.H., right? That’s why you asked me? Didn’t Lilly say his name was Jake? MC, what’s his last name?”
Another noise, this time to the tune of “I don’t know”. Then I looked at Paige. “Are we almost done?”
I guess understanding that particular unintelligible murmur was a necessary skill in her trade, because she nodded and started putting away most of the bottles and powders in front of her. “Almost.”
I sighed, and turned back to the video call to take advantage of my temporary freedom. “I don’t know his last name, but honestly, I’m not sure I think he’s much of the wooing-with-jewelry sort.”
Paige nudged me over to face her again. “Good thing you hate jewelry then, huh?” She blotted and spritzed my face with a bit more of a flourish than she’d used in our past sessions, then looked me over with a grin.
I started to stand up to look, but Paige shook her head. “Nu uh, pictures first!”
I eyed her suspiciously— that had never been the process before. Still, I obediently smiled the way she told me and glared at her as she looked over the pictures with a critical expression.
“One of you two should make sure this Hacker guy gets that, see if he regrets saying no!” She exclaimed with a mischievous glance in my direction.
“What??” I squeaked, grabbing my phone to see what she sent.
If I weren’t so annoyed about her underhanded tactics, I’d have been more impressed by what she’d managed to achieve with my face. We’d taken long enough that I’d expected to be a unicorn or something like that. Instead, it actually barely looked like I was wearing anything at all, at least if you didn’t know how I usually looked. My skin tone was unchanged, just smoothed out and brightened the tiniest bit. The lipstick was subtle, but plumping. The most dramatic part was my eyes, but even that mainly just made them pop and look more vibrant than normal.
I wasn’t beautiful, but it was a hell of a lot closer than I usually was.
Jessy’s excited squeal confirmed it for me. “MC, you look so good! But Paige, we don’t have his number or anything. He always just contacts us.”
“That’s right!” I said, relieved. “I’m probably the only one who can message him directly, and no way in hell am I sending him a random picture of myself in full makeup just to sit around my house. I will never be that desperate.” I hoped. But I kept that unsaid.
Cleo chimed in, amused. “You’re assuming he hasn’t already seen it. What was it he said? Be aware that all of your digital activities are monitored and recorded by me.”
Sure enough, he was online. Then again, if he were reading, or even worse, listening, this was the kind of thing he’d definitely have logged off to avoid already.
“He doesn’t bother with personal stuff. There’s no way he’s spending his time reading a chat called All the Single Ladies, okay? He doesn’t care that much about us gossiping.”
Paige stared at me for a long moment as if assessing more than my makeup, and then sighed loudly. “We really need to work on your daddy issues, you know that, right?”
“PAIGE!” I shouted and started hitting her with a folded towel, brandishing it like I would a pillow at a sleepover. She just cackled as she put her hands up to protect her face.
I never did tell her that I took a handful more pictures before washing my face. I couldn’t let her win like that.
___
Paige left the next morning, and Annie was still gone, having tried to make herself scarce during the visit to give us time. I took the day off work to let us hang out before she went, but ultimately found myself unnerved by how quiet the apartment seemed now that she was gone.
I turned on music and cranked it up as loud as I felt comfortable with considering the neighbors, and danced around as I cleaned up the evidence of our irresponsibility over the last week. It was amazing how much of a mess we could make.
When Cleo texted me directly, rather than the group chat, my heart sank. I’d asked her and Jessy both to try to keep Paige out of the scarier parts of the investigation, and while she’d been nosy enough to pull some information out of the group, they’d mostly obliged and kept All the Single Ladies light and teasing, mainly at my expense.
So if she didn’t include anyone else, I knew it wasn’t good. She told me about the ransom-style letter her mother had gotten, and my initial reaction was to roll my eyes. Sometimes it felt like I was dealing with a child imitating a criminal.
Then she sent the pictures that were included.
Those pictures made my heart drop. Paige’s visit had done a lot to make me feel safe and normal, but now the truth came screaming back to me. Neither was true. There was still a kidnapper, still a missing girl, still a dead body.
This was the second time he’d gone for Cleo.
Of course her mom couldn’t just ignore them. The culprit has played dirty here, and hit on the right button. No mother would be willing to risk their child like that. My own would have locked me in the basement if she’d found out about a single one of those calls, let alone received pictures.
Cleo herself seemed more worried for her mother than herself, which I could understand. Wasn’t I more worried for Hannah’s friends, and even Paige, than myself?
While telling the group about the canceled search, I was nearly knocked off my feet by the fact that it was Dan who came to the conclusion that Hannah was in the forest. I’d been underestimating him for a while, it seemed. It wasn’t a hard conclusion to make, necessarily, but I hadn’t even realized he was paying enough attention to see the forest thread. Maybe I’d need to start involving him in things a bit more often.
I put a pin in that to examine later. While he was exonerated from the more recent happenings, he was probably the most physically capable of an abduction of the group. Or had been before he flipped his car, at least. Now he probably couldn’t pee without multiple people knowing, let alone hurt anyone. That made it a bit easier to trust him.
While texting with Jessy, a roller coaster complete with hearing her wish we’d met in another way, then accuse Jake, then get mad at me for keeping his secrets, I found myself retreating back into that numb detachment from before Paige’s visit.
It was an addicting place, I knew from experience. The emotional equivalent of a blanket fort, where the monsters couldn’t get you. Oh, I’d been in therapy long enough to know it for what it was— my brain’s reaction to extreme stress, a protective cocoon to keep me safe from the inevitable breakdown I was flying towards. I’d been given tools to recognize and stop it years ago, after hearing enough times about the dangers of disconnecting like this for long.
As an adult, I’d stopped letting myself risk staying there for any real length of time. Maybe for an hour, enough to get through a difficult confrontation, or hold myself together until I could get somewhere that it was safe to cry. I knew this place was what had some people scrambling to stay high or drunk. Blessed nothing was a godsend to those who felt too much, and it took a will stronger than mine to let it go once it started.
And today I couldn’t bring myself to walk away from it. I tucked the vulnerable parts of myself into bed— the parts that cared, and felt, and hoped— and gave it a small kiss on the forehead. A promise that the rest of me— logical, rational, and disinterested— would take over and keep away the demons.
I could remember where this had led in the past, but with a small, exhausted yawn, the side of me that cared fell asleep and the rest trudged forward.
Luckily, after Jessy had left me with that final plea to keep myself safe from Jake (done, I told myself. Just not how she meant), no one needed anything else from me for the day. As day bled into evening and I felt confident that everyone I knew on the other side of the world had gone to bed, I straightened up my room to clear the mess that my focus on the case— and just general irresponsibility— had left in its wake.
After that was done, I sat at my desk and logged in to work. Office hours were long since over, but I wasn’t tired yet and if I put in some time today, I’d be able to reclaim some of the PTO I’d wasted recently on self-pity and sadness.
I got a lot done compared to usual, without my phone or drifting thoughts I was moving through my tasks faster than I had in ages, almost completely clearing the backlog I’d accumulated over the last several weeks.
I forgot how much energy giving a fuck took, I thought dryly, snorting out loud despite being alone.
The notification lighting up my phone was almost masked by the flicker of my monitors as I powered everything down.
Joe: Hey
Joe: been a while, how’s it been?
It had been a while, long enough that the unexpected text almost jolted me out of my safe place. I closed the imaginary door just in time and recovered quickly.
MC: It really has. Work has kept me busy, and my sister was in town this last week and just left today.
Joe: Annie said that this weekend. Are you free tomorrow?
Joe: dinner, maybe?
I considered his offer silently, tapping the fingers of my right hand on my desk as I stared at my screen. Truthfully, I had reasons enough to both say yes and no. On one hand, he was nice enough. We hadn’t spent a whole lot of time talking overall, but enough that I had some kind of picture of him. At least I could picture him, I mused. We didn’t have much in common that I’d found so far, but we’d mainly discussed unimportant, surface things.
On the other, life was currently complicated enough, and adding someone new would just make it worse. But it also might be nice to add someone whose motives I didn’t have to question beyond knowing he wanted to get his dick wet.
Before I could reply and say yes, he sensed my hesitation and continued.
Joe: Annie said you’ve been hung up on some guy. I’m not gunna try to get between that if there’s something. Or if you just don’t want to.
Joe: just seemed like you were maybe into it at one point so I should ask
I was really going to have to talk to Annie about what she was discussing with people behind my back. But still…
MC: No, um, I thought there was but he made it clear that there wasn’t.
MC: I’m still dealing with it a little, though
Joe: totally get it we’ve all been there.
Joe: not pressuring you or anything. Just think you’re cute and want to see you again. No expectations
Joe: take your time and let me know
He was right. We had all been there. Maybe the circumstances surrounding Jake and I had been somewhat unique, but “girl likes boy, boy can’t/doesn’t want/won’t do anything about it” happened all the time.
Sitting around, sad and pining, didn’t help anyone and just made it that much harder for us to focus on the investigation. The best thing I could do at this point was to do something to clear my mind and make it easier to move on.
MC: You know what? Dinner sounds nice. How’s 7?
___
The work I’d done the night before made my day surprisingly easy, especially for a Friday. By lunch, my queue was clean, I’d organized my inbox, and stared at my screen for a while.
I’d spent so long glued to my phone that my hand strayed over toward it several times while I looked for things to do. I wasn’t avoiding it, exactly, but trying to take the opportunity to just be uninvolved with Duskwood for a bit. It had been quiet since the letter, other than Dan sending memes to everyone and the smaller chat with the Ladies, and I’d avoided engaging with either so far today.
Maybe part of me felt guilty about that, or didn’t know what to do without corpses and mystery hanging over my head, but either way I ended up turning off my music and swapping over to one of my true crime podcasts. I’d been staying away from them ever since my life became one, but I really had always enjoyed them. Getting back to them might make me feel more normal again.
I gave up on pretending to be productive for a while and wandered to my room, getting a head start on deciding what to wear. I had no idea where we were going other than “dinner”. Depending on how much Annie had told him about me already (other than apparently everything), it was possible he knew enough already to avoid taking me anywhere fancy. It wasn’t a “not like other girls” thing so much as generally not being at home in more formal environments and never wanting to go on a date somewhere that I couldn’t comfortably pay my way. The takeout and booze increase over the last week had made that wiggle room a bit smaller, though I would be able to put it on credit if I had to.
My first thought was to message Jessy the way she had done before her date-that-wasn’t, but while I knew Jake was far too busy to read my personal chats right now, I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t go back through the ones from the Duskwood group to see if anything relevant had happened.
So instead, I went with Paige, knowing she’d get a kick out of my cluelessness at least.
MC: PAAAAIGEEE HELPPP
MC: I have a date
MC: A real one with a man I can see
She replied surprisingly quickly, and I realized she was probably still a bit worried and relieved to hear from me.
Paige: That’s great!
MC: Except not, work from home means I have nothing to wear
Paige: Where are you guys going?
MC: Food.
Paige: What kind of food?
MC: …
Paige: Why are you so bad at this?
Paige: Do you have a little black dress?
MC: Not that fits my ever-expanding ass, it’s from before shutdown.
Paige: I doubt it’d be the ass that’s the issue. Your boobs might be a bit more of a challenge if they decide to pop out.
MC: 🙄
MC: Not helpful
Paige: Fine, dark jeans?
MC: Yes!
Paige: Heels?
MC: Please.
Paige: Flats?
MC: Better.
Paige: What color?
I sent her a picture and she walked me through picking a shirt to match. The sun had started setting later and later and I tended to be warm so we picked a dark green top with loose sleeves and an empire waist that I’d gotten a few months ago for the rare days in the office. However, Paige tried to talk me out of wearing the silk cami I usually wore under it to make the rather low V neckline more work-friendly.
MC: I thought we were trying to avoid my boobs escaping?
Paige: Sure, but your cleavage looks great in that kind of neckline with the right bra.
MC: Why are you checking out my cleavage?
Paige: Easy, Lannister, I promise it was totally innocent. I helped you get ready for that wedding last year and they were in my face enough that I’d have to be blind.
MC: Not my fault you’re short.
She wasn’t that much shorter than me, but I’d been wearing borrowed heels at the time to pretend I wasn’t just over 5 feet, and she was a couple inches smaller than me to begin with.
Paige: Not my fault you’re stacked.
MC: it’s one of the few perks of being fat.
MC: Can we stop talking about my tits?
Paige: How are you so vulgar with everyone else and such a prude with me?
MC: You're my sister. And 12.
Paige: Only in your head 🙄
MC: Oh shit, makeup.
Paige: You’re fine, your skin was clear so just do some eyeliner and mascara, maybe some gloss. He might as well see what you’re normally like. No dark lipstick, you don’t know what you’ll order and you eat like a heathen.
MC: Last time he saw me I was super done up, I’d let Annie take control.
Paige: Wait is this not a first date?
Right. Guess I’d forgotten to mention my night out while she was here. Just have gotten lost in all of the kidnapping and fugitive talk. Weird how that worked.
MC: Last time we didn’t exactly plan to meet up, I went out with Annie and we went out after.
Paige: How dare you not tell me??? But that means he saw you without makeup in the morning right?
MC: Not exactly?
Paige: WHY ARE YOU SO BAD AT THIS?
MC: Stop being so supportive, my ego might explode.
Paige: ❤️
Paige: But this makes it easier I think. Sure he only saw you done up, but he’s also seen you naked. If he stuck around, he wants to at least do that again.
I wanted to argue with that, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. It wasn’t that I fully believed her, but I also couldn’t pretend he hadn’t gone out of his way to get my number, seemingly asked about me, and spent weeks being patient. That was a lot of effort just to now run because I suck at doing makeup.
MC: I guess.
Paige: If you look that bad, doggy style is a thing.
MC: Nope, not discussing this with you. I’ll send a picture before I go and you will not mention a single sex position, private body part or innuendo for the rest of the day.
Paige: Spoil sport. 😘
Since picking an outfit took much longer than expected, or was reasonable, I decided to hop in the shower early and do some extra conditioning. The humidity lately made it take even longer to tame my curls than usual, and I’d rather it not stand straight up with frizz.
I was surprised to find I wasn’t nervous. Maybe a bit flustered, but that may have been more from Paige than worries about Joe. I was still fragile from Jake’s rejection— that I was going on this date at all was evidence of that. I could only assume it was a symptom of the continuing detachment that I able to keep myself cool-headed.
I used as much product as I normally would in a month (admittedly, that was still less than Annie had the last time I went out) getting my curls to lay more or less the way I wanted. They still expanded and frizzed a bit as they dried, but I was at least okay with the end result.
The makeup was a bit harder, but I tried to take my time with it. I was still a bit ahead of schedule since I’d logged off so early, so I even plucked my eyebrows a little. I was probably just burning time at this point, but it couldn’t hurt, right?
It was six by the time I was fully dressed and had tracked down a purse that wasn’t cat-themed or large enough to double as a grocery bag, and when I checked my phone I was surprised to see that Joe had offered to pick me up at 6:30. On one hand, I hate feeling trapped if I have a bad time, but on the other I also hated driving and Uber existed. So I agreed and sat down to wait.
It was 6:25 when the message I’d been half hoping for, half dreading finally came.
Jake: Hello, MC.
___
Almost immediately, the sweet sense of detachment I’d maintained started wavering. I had to lock my phone and take a few gulps of air before my pounding heart began to slow.
I had plans, which would be here in just a minute. I didn’t have time to talk to him right now, and it wouldn’t be fair to Joe or Jake if I gave either of them half of my attention. I hadn’t opened the message yet, just saw the notification. It wouldn’t show as online until I opened the app, so I could swipe it away and reply later.
This was the logical way to do things. Jake had made his decision clear. I had to respect that, and it freed me up to date anyone I wanted. Joe knew I was interested in someone else. There was no moral ambiguity here, I wasn’t doing wrong by either of them. Ignoring Jake’s message was normal, he’d been too busy to reply to mine several times. It happened.
Still, I made sure not to open the app when Joe messaged to tell me he was out front. Instead, I stood up, put my phone in my purse, and went out to meet him.
___
I was relieved when we pulled up to a pub that looked just on the nicer end of average. He, too, was dressed in what could be considered business casual, with well-fitted jeans and a button-down in a teal color that looked good on him.
On our way to the table, I took my first sober look at him from the corner of my eye. He was probably closer to Annie’s age than mine, but not enough of a gap to make me feel uncomfortable and predatory. He was tall, though after a certain point I stopped being any good at guessing heights since it was just “taller than me”. At least, he’d definitely had to stoop more than I’d realized when we’d kissed on our way to his house last time we'd met.
Once we sat at our booth and were promised a visit from the server shortly, he flashed me a grin that almost didn’t reveal the nerves I’d noticed in the subtle tapping he’d done against the steering wheel as he drove us here. When I returned the smile, he relaxed a bit more.
We chatted lightly while we looked over the menu, pausing only to put in our orders. He told me about work, and I gave a highly edited version of Paige’s visit. He laughed as I showed him some of the pictures she’d taken, lingering a beat longer on the picture she’d taken to send to the chat with Cleo and Jessy.
Neither of us ordered alcohol, since he was driving and I’d had more than enough alcohol for a while. We split our meals— I’d been torn between two and he said they both sounded good and ordered the one I didn’t— and while the table was quieter than it had been before we got our food, we kept a steady conversation going. Paige was right, I realized now that I looked at it more objectively. I was way better at flirting when I wasn’t invested.
The food was good, and we both cleared our plates and then lingered a bit longer. I ordered another iced tea to keep my hands busy, and he fiddled a bit with his napkin but rarely took his eyes from me.
The drive home was less tense than the one there, with a lot less nervous fidgeting on his part. Things got more flirty as we went, and I even giggled a couple of times, which shocked me.
We pulled up to my house, and I tried not to panic when he turned off the car. I hadn’t thought far ahead enough to decide if I was inviting him in or not. It had certainly gone well enough to, it was the best date I’d had in a long while. But it was hard to forget how I’d gotten just seeing Jake’s name on my phone earlier.
He didn’t get out, though, just turning in his seat to face me with an earnest look. “I have a confession. I know our first time didn’t show it, but I’m not like that. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Annie’s boyfriend is a friend from college. I got out of a relationship right before we met and all of my friends were our friends. Steve took pity on me when he heard and started bringing me out more. I’ve heard you aren’t a partier, Annie’s ranted about her hermit nerd roommate before.” Here he flashed me a shy, apologetic smile. “I don’t hate that scene or anything, but this has been really nice. You’re really nice. And you look great tonight. I don’t think I said that yet, sorry.”
His honesty threw me off balance. After spending so long pulling teeth for any degree of connection, I barely remembered how to handle a guy putting so many words together at once, let alone being so open. It took me a bit to find my footing.
“Joe, I…” I searched for the right words for a moment, then pushed forward. “I’m not sure where I’m at right now, to tell you the truth. The other guy, well, it’s weird with him still. We’re still working together on a project for a while longer, and I don’t know how long it’ll be, and every time I talk to him it just makes it complicated...”
I hesitated and sighed loudly, then reached my hand over for him to grab if he’d like. He took it, eyes searching mine for a moment. He seemed to sense I wasn’t done, and waited, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
“I had a good time, too. You’re right, I don’t do clubs or parties or anything like that. I mean, I did when I was younger, I definitely had a wild phase, but I kind of grew out of it. I haven’t gone home with a guy I just met in years. But I’m just not in the place to start something right now, you know?” I laughed without much humor and let my head fall to the headrest behind me. “If you didn’t seem like such a good guy, I think I’d really like letting you distract me for a while, but that’s not fair.”
He chuckled a little, his smile turning a bit wry. “You’re right, I’m not great at not getting attached. Though I’m a bit tempted to try right now.” I saw his eyes flicker down to my neckline for a quick second before he pulled them back to my face, blushing. It was strangely charming, and I leaned forward slowly to kiss him on the cheek, being sure to give him time to pull away or turn in if he preferred either option.
He didn’t move right away, but after my lips left his cheek, he chased after to capture them in a kiss. It was searing, and I felt my stomach flutter as I put the hand he wasn’t currently holding behind his head.
When we finally broke apart, his eyes were half-lidded and I was sure mine looked the same. My thumb caressed his cheek gently as we watched each other silently.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he whispered, voice a bit rough. Then his brain seemed to catch up and he looked away shyly. “Not to come in, I just think it’s proper after a good date.”
I gave him a reassuring smile. “I’d like that.”
The walk was quiet, and our hands brushed against each other but neither of us moved to link them. Still, at my door, I lingered a second, deliberately turning towards him as I opened my purse for my keys.
Before I found them, he’d pulled me toward him again and I kissed him back, tangling my fingers in his hair with a groan. Standing, our heights made it harder to navigate, at least until I was nudged back a step until my back met the door. He didn’t lift me, but the support from being sandwiched between them made standing up on my toes easier, and he seemed happy enough to lean down the rest of the way to meet my lips.
Eventually, I needed to come up for air and I gently pushed his shoulders to end the kiss. Breathing heavily, I rested my head on his chest for a second and then groaned. “Go, before I change my mind on that distraction thing.”
He chucked, stepped back, and pecked my lips gently when I looked up again. “Probably a good idea,” he said in a voice that told me it wouldn’t have been hard to convince him to stay. But we both knew it was wrong.
When he was halfway down the walkway, I called out, “hey, let me know you got home okay, alright? Drive safe,” and quickly opened my door to slip in before he could reply.
I was ridiculously glad to find Annie still out, and I took another quick shower to wash off the makeup, keeping my hair out of the spray. More than a small part of me regretted letting him leave. Even if Jake changed his mind, we were still half a world apart and he was on the run from the government. He’d never be able to come here, and while I technically could get there, it’d be impossible to do it often enough to really have a relationship without raising suspicions and getting stupidly expensive. Joe was here, interested, and a really good kisser.
My sister said it best— I’m really bad at this.
Once I turned off the water and toweled off, I walked to my room without bothering to get dressed since I was alone. I sent Paige a text telling her that I was home, in my own bed, alone, and promised her details later. I didn’t let myself check to see if Jake was online.
Instead, I opened the message from Joe that I’d gotten while I was in the shower.
Joe: made it home
Joe: and I meant what I said by the way, I had a great time.
Joe: I hope he realizes what he’s missing out on soon, for his own sake.
Joe: goodnight.
I pulled the flat sheet up to my chin, and drifted off slowly.
___
The next morning, I knew I couldn’t put Jake off any longer. I’d enjoyed my night, a lot, but I knew he didn’t get many chances to be in contact at the moment, and we still needed to focus on Hannah. Plus, as much as I didn’t want to, I missed him.
Biting my lip, I gathered my courage and replied. The discussion about what we’d discovered in our time apart went well, straightforward enough, and I was glad I’d waited till morning since we jumped on the phone records right away and calling people at midnight—or worse— wasn’t the quickest way to endear yourself to them.
I needn't have worried on that front, though, since no one probably lived at the garage to be woken up. Still, it would have raised some eyebrows the next morning, even if the people who saw the call were well-used to my bullshit by now.
I hadn’t meant to admit I missed him. I knew I shouldn’t say it even as I sent the message. It was dumb, and just opened up old wounds when he said the same back before logging off without giving me a chance to say anything more, as usual.
Confronting Thomas about having called Hannah the day she went missing went in a direction I hadn’t expected. It made sense that being the main suspect in his own partner’s disappearance would wear him down, but with how little he’d shown, I hadn’t considered it.
Blaming me for our lack of contact was frustrating, though, considering he’d just voted to kick me out. Of course I wasn’t buddying up to him after that. The fact that I was speaking to him at all was a small miracle, guy didn’t realize just how good I was at holding a grudge.
Once the floodgates were open, though, it seemed like he just couldn’t stop them. The way he described Hannah was so different from anything they’d said earlier, much more in line with the woman I’d investigated than the one I’d been introduced to by the group.
I hurt for Thomas, but it was yet another time I felt connected to Hannah. Secrets, hiding, shutting down around someone you love. Wasn’t that exactly what I was doing now? Had done whenever my demons crept back up and the emptiness lurked at the edges of my thoughts.
Whatever it was that had happened, whatever triggered this, it seemed like she was losing the fight with it. I hoped again, for Jessy and Jake’s sake, that we found her soon. If she hadn’t done this to herself, that meant she was out there alone, unmedicated, trapped in her own mind. That was a special kind of hell, I knew.
The bracelet was pretty, I’d always loved emeralds. I was surprised Thomas told me about it with so little prompting, and sent the picture as confirmation. Maybe he was just done. It sounded like he’d been exhausted even before she went missing, so maybe he was just relieved to tell someone.
Even though I had no reason to suspect Jessy had anything to do with it, I mentioned that her initials matched. I couldn’t admit to myself that I was avoiding exactly what Thomas followed up with— pointing out Jake’s name. He didn’t make the same connection I’d been continuing to purposefully ignore— that the H could mean Hannah— but it still hung in the air somehow.
I let myself be distracted from that fear that for a moment by listening to how different Hannah sounded the day of her kidnapping. If Jake hadn’t seen the abduction, that would have actually made me more nervous. People tended to relax once they’d decided to give in to depression, the same way I felt so much better when I let myself close off.
I promised to try to find out if Jake was Hannah’s lover regardless of the churning in my stomach the idea caused. After last night, I had no right to even care, but I couldn’t help it. There was no way I’d ever give Thomas his last name, but if it could get us both the truth, I knew I needed to bring myself to ask.
I didn’t know for sure if I was happy or not that Jake wasn’t online, but pushed myself to message him anyway. He needed to at least know what I’d learned.
I’d never let myself send him that many messages in a row before, and I got more desperate with each one. I hated how pathetic I knew I was coming off by the time I said that I hoped it wasn’t him, so I was the tiniest bit relieved that he stayed offline through my barrage.
___
The security footage I found in the cloud next felt like a nightmare to me, again striking me in that deep place of fear that was aware of just how vulnerable being a woman could be at times. The idea of having something, or someone, coming so close to you in the dead of night made me shiver and wrap my arms around myself. I sent it, as always, but almost cried with relief when Jessy quickly provided a distraction from my dark thoughts.
Her tour idea touched me more than she could know, more than I ever would have expected. The fact that she also seemed angry at Lilly only soothed me, and for the first time in a while I felt my hold on my cold mask loosen considerably.
That sense of affection grew as she sent pictures showing off the town that I knew she wanted to leave, but at the same time seemed to want me to love. And I did feel a pull to it, despite seeing nothing but quick stills of buildings and fountains. I couldn’t picture myself there, but it was so central to my life lately that I couldn’t help but feel connected. I imagined that even if they all stopped talking to me after we found Hannah, I’d want to visit. Maybe I’d bring Paige, we could stay at the motel. Maybe Jake would leave the map on my phone before he, too, left once my usefulness had ended.
Even the man who picked then to harass me didn’t dampen my urge to see it, though it did remind me that Lilly taking down the video hadn’t kept it from continuing to spread, which left my mind a moment to drift to Jake.
But it didn’t last long, and when Jessy showed me the lake, I swore to myself that one day I’d picnic there. Even if it was alone, one day I’d dip my toes into the water and close my eyes with my face to the sun. I wanted to feel the good in this place that had been haunting my nightmares. I wanted to face it and prove I was stronger than the legends it held.
Her story about her mom broke my heart, and I was tempted to tell her about mine but clamped down on the urge. Once I opened that door, there was no way I’d be able to pull back into the peace I was determined to return to shortly. So instead I asked about her brother, and when that only worked for bit and she asked for news, I forced myself to open that can of worms again and show her the bracelet.
I wasn’t expecting her to recognize it, and even less to find out it had been in a pawn shop. Would a lover have gotten a bracelet from there, in such a small town where it would almost certainly be recognized by whoever had pawned it?
Maybe it was from someone she’d used date and she’d pawned it before, but gotten sentimental. Thomas had never seen it before because it’d been hidden, then pawned, but he’d seen it before she was able to hide it again.
But even without knowing enough about it to know the whole story, it made me feel lighter to know that it was unlikely that it was from Jake, at least in the recent past. I could handle them being exes, even though I couldn’t honestly say that I would put so much effort into keeping one of my exes safe. Especially not considering what it was costing him.
Before I could go any further with that thought, Phil messaged Jessy to say that Thomas and Cleo had joined forces in their mission to break into every building in Duskwood, and I raked my hand over my face.
Stop. Being. Stupid. Please. Hannah, help me.
The fact that Phil even gave them a chance before calling the cops didn’t really match up with anything I’d heard from him. I don’t know for sure I’d have waited, but I guess they were his sister’s friends so that could make things a bit different, I supposed. Still, between the discoveries showing Hannah wasn’t the person I’d been told about, and now this, I wondered if maybe Phil was really the bad guy I’d thought.
Maybe I’d need to see if Jake could get ahold of his number soon and get his thoughts on this all.
Jessy requested a call, and I felt a wave of guilt about her being out this late because of me. Here she was trying to cheer me up, when it was her friend missing and her town hiding secrets. I was safely tucked a world away, pitying myself because my crush was unrequited. Man, sometimes I was the worst.
I chatted with her on her walk, happy to help her feel safe. At least until I caught sight of someone walking behind Jessy in the dark, dodging to avoid being seen. I called out a warning, but it was too late. I could only scream as I watched her fall to the attack. The mask man turned the camera to let me see him, and I spit out curses, telling him to come find me instead. Red flooded my vision as he propped the camera up in a way that made it clear I was supposed to watch her suffer. I sobbed loudly as I begged her to get back up. Even when she did, ending the call, I couldn’t stop the tears.
NEXT
#duskwood mc#duskwood fanfic#duskwood fanfiction#duskwood#duskwood fandom#duskwood episode 10#duskwood everbyte#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood jake#jake x mc
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I genuinely am not even sure what tags I used to even come across In the name of the King and In the blood but I saw them while scrolling and thought "ooh juicy worldbuilding", opened them in a new tab and then immediately forgot about them until a snow storm blew through recently. It knocked the internet out while they were the only fanfiction tabs I had open! I think I read through both of them about three times in the week and I'm so glad I took another look!
Your worldbuilding is delicious and relationship dynamics are So Good (or maybe not 'good' but fascinating, which it the really important thing, ';D )
Quick question about illusion powers in your universe- do they all work by making one person see something or could an illusionist focous on a singular object and make everyone see something its not? Like convincing everyone a dagger is a pen?
Oh also! Did you mention in an authors note somewhere that there may have been a brother who seduced a stronger opponent to save himself or did I completely make that up in my brain? If yes, I'd love to hear more about it! If no, Congrats on invading my subconscious! XD
Thank you so much Anon, I'm so glad you gave my work a chance and enjoyed it! I tend to have at least fifteen tabs open with stories I took a liking to for when I'm at a lose end as well. It often leads me to some gems that I never would have looked for before.
First question: It depends on how powerful the Illusionist. All illusionists can lock one person in to one o their illusions, it take a strong illusionist to lock several people into seeing the same thing. Isen would be able to do this, even to several people who have training in deflecting mind powers.
Ooooh that's a good good question, I don't think a Prince has seduced another Prince to get away (at least, I don't remember if I said that. If anyone can point that out, let me know!). I had the idea of a Prince in a power struggle with the King's advisor which leads to shenanigans if that is what you are referring to?
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I'm going to go back to slowly working on my TTRPG projects after this, but I've been profoundly discouraged about it lately, to the point that I haven't had the energy or enthusiasm to consider making plans for my local con, which is coming in October. They've got a POC industry meet-and-greet that I told myself that I'd attend the next time I went, but I can't muster excitement for myself, or the community.
From two people of the first people outside of friends who really checked for my work and offered encouragement: One of them turned out to be a fuckin' sex pest, the other disappeared after a while. First game I released for purchase didn't catch, outside of very kind friends, and folks who said they thought it sounded great but never gave it a look.
My pet project, the Cortex superhero game I've been working on for years, hasn't exactly stalled out, but the energy I put into hadn't really come back to me. Hell, I had consultation chats with the system's developer, and even with the battery in my back from that, I couldn't get lift off.
I watched the TTRPG content channel I loved and volunteered with (and let people see my face on a fucking Twitch stream for--three times!) slowly fade away because of money, stress, and audiences that couldn't...well, I won't be a dick about the specifics there, you can't hate on people for what they enjoy. I will note, anecdotally that it's a shame that the channel was out in these streets before Critical Role, and all throughout its run, I'd hear people talk about what games they'd like to see streamed that weren't D&D, or different types of content, etc....and I'd point toward my folks who busted their ass to do that for years. Then I'd get a response of crickets.
Engaging with a lot of the indie TTRPG developer community is equal parts intimidating and irritating. I'm already allergic to DISCOURSE most times, but it seems to be a pretty cyclical thing within the community. I never pull the "who we mad at today" glib bullshit that tries to deflect from genuine critique...but a lot of that corner of the Internet is second only to Leftist Internet in its inability to simply starve bad actors of oxygen by ignoring them.
I'm just...exhausted. And between major stress with my actual job (probably doesn't help that the dates the con fall right before when I'm planning on being unemployed for at least a month), and some pretty embarrassing bouts of loneliness, I don't got it in me to pretend like I'm enthusiastic about the shit.
I'll eventually force myself to remember what it was like to run a playtest of something I made, and watch people build something new out of tools I gave them. And I'll get back to work. But right now? Not so much.
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“Yes I told a wittle wie, but at weast I stawted a convuhsayshun uwu”
Back in the day when “conversations” started more from oral correspondence, conversations were more ambiguous. And if you’re the sort of person that believes in manipulating the truth and the ritual of communication for your own idea of, “positive social change,” the ends justified the means when it came to he-said she-said, ambiguities, and telling little lies in order to provoke feeling and reaction to get them on your side. Manipulating peoples trust in that what you said with fervor and zeal was the truth and that you weren’t just speaking out of your ass out of ignorance. Because the consequences of if what you said were true were correct, it was outrageous and wrong.
And if it ever was shown that you spoke out of turn, back in the day, you could always use the excuse, “well I guess I did overreact but I didn’t know the truth either, I was duped, same as you.” And you could deflect ever deliberately using outrage and lies to forwards an agenda.
So why do I bring up this phenomenon and how the internet removing ambiguity as to its source has laid bare the machinations of socialist types when they lie like this?
Oh, it just has to do with the original VA for Bayonetta deciding to lie about how much she was paid per recording session (she said it was totally for that one game.) And this interaction was TEXTBOOK, “I’ll tell a little lie and let the outraged start rumor milling for me.” All leading up to “the conversation” of unionizing voice acting and increasing VA pay to ludicrous amounts not based on any previous conversations but new ones riding waves of public ignorance and anger. All of this based on a shitty false outrage that absolutely lied about how dire the situation was to make it seem like a virtual crime VAs aren’t paid six figures for one job.
And always, always, always, when it gets laid bare that someone wasn’t just jumping the gun, mistaken and repeating ignorance, but outright lying to provoke, this coy, “Yes I lied but at least we started a conversation!” ploy tries to excuse the whole fucking facade as justified in the face of injustice. Ignoring the fact the injustice does not exist and was always an exaggeration. Trying to capitalize and base the conversation on the outrage that never happened.
Usually it has more time to culturally penetrate as a bit of just-so ignorance that no one engaging in the conversation has any time or opportunity to research for themselves, so they just take it as a given based on association and trust to the people making snide “jokey-jokes” repeating and perpetuating these things. The way night time talkshows would perpetuate the “woman burns her crotch with hot McDonalds coffee and stupid people sue businesses for their own stupidity” meme. Where people latch onto it and repeat it as real, with a hint of self-aware ironic disgust when they do it.
But this is the internet age. The lie about only being paid $4,000 total didn’t have time to become a mean spirited set of jokes perpetuating that false story as truth, before the truth came out and managed to be disseminated with a minimum of effort to correct the record.
Pre-internet age, do you know how long it would’ve taken for the truth to come out before the lies and propaganda spread around the world? A whole fuckload of time. And partially spurned on by the sort of people that are ideologically geared to take every opportunity that seems to badmouth businesses or things that aren’t locked up and unionized for the sake of arguing everything requires a union boss to function. From voice action, to Steam. They argue you shouldn’t even be allowed to have a business without a union dictating everything you do and how much that business has to devote of its earnings to the union.
“Oopsy sowwy I wied and ouw convuhsayshun was on false pwetenses. :3″
You love to see it. It barely had time to ruminate and metastasize before being debunked.
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diary of a witchy kid (t.m.r.)
summary: tomothy chalamets diary falls into the wrong hands…or maybe even the right ones…
happy new years eve/new years! be safe out there. this blog is only four months old and I have enjoyed my stay so far. thank you for the encouraging messages and post appreciations y'all send! omg I can now say I have internet friends because growing up my immigrant parents wouldn't let me have any ahdkfhsfhs
here’s my attempt at a little more serious fic but it’s not sad or anything just leaning more toward early scheming/taking over the world tom who can’t identify what a crush is ^.^
when avery dropped the book on the table, your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull. tom had a diary? in unison, lestrange, nott, and abraxas moved back in their chairs as if it were a bomb.
“avery what the bloody f*ck?” the blonde looked up at him, “what do you think you’re doing with that thing?”
“i can feel the evil oozing out of its pages…” nott whispered dramatically, grabbing onto reinhard lestranges robes while eyeing the book. you stared at the inanimate item innocently sitting in the middle of the study table. black leather. gold letters of tom marvolo riddle branded as its title. it wasn’t cracking with electricity around it, it didn’t open up to have teeth like the monster book of monsters, and there was no aura around it indicating a hex. why was everyone treating it like a cursed item?
“i thought you lot might’ve been more amused.” averys excited grin had vanished long ago. “there’s got to be hundreds of secrets-“
“except this is toms diary,” lestrange reminded, lightly pulling nott of of him to readjust his collar. “he’ll kill us if he catches us.“
you have never talked to the man the myth the legend one on one. you were new to the school this year, new to slytherin, but he didn’t seem to mind you as an addition to the group, though he never went out of his way to talk to you either. you assumed that being second ranked and distantly related to nott made you tolerable. consequently, your knowledge of tom was small. he was quiet, kept to himself, somewhat dark, and seemed to have a dominant presence over your new friends.
“when who catches you?” a flat voice appeared behind abraxas. your instincts reactively changing the diary into another book. hopefully he didn’t notice.
“merlin, he moves like a prius…” you mumbled to yourself.
“when uh…ravenclaw uh…catches these hands the next match!” nott grinned nervously. your eyes shifted toward your second cousin, curious to see how a situation like this would play out.
“ah, yes, the last one was,” lestrange coughed, “not our best.” the most recent ravenclaw game ended with avery in the hospital wing when a bludger dislocated his shoulder. rather than guarding, he was lost in a trance staring at athena lovegood smiling and waving at him in the stands.
you watched the boys intently, dead still in their seats, anxious about the little leather book mocking them as it sat idly on the wooden surface. what was so terrifying about him?
tom didn’t respond. luckily for them, he didn’t care about quidditch. the tension is everyone’s shoulders relaxed as he turned around and ran his fingers along the spines of the books.
“i see…” he said dryly. in a panick abraxas snatched the diary off the table and tossed it to avery.
“put it back where you found it,” he whispered.
“no way, he’ll skin me!” avery deflected the task to nott, throwing it to him. nott gripped it by its spine as he glanced over his shoulder to tom who was distracted by the shelf, flipping through one of the books.
“oh hell no!” he passed it to lestrange, but before it could even land from its flight in the air, the slytherin flicked his wand, sending the book into your chest.
“no!” your arms wrapped around it instinctively, the force nearly knocking you out of the wooden chair. not sure what to do, you shoved the diary under your jumper. why did they have to involve you?
“is something wrong, (y/l/n)?” tom asked, returning the book to its spot. you froze on the spot. it might’ve been the first time he had acknowledged you by name.
“no.” you responded.
“then why did you say no?”
“me? i didn’t say that.” riddle quirked an eyebrow at you. to the average persons eye, you were your average teenage girl—good grades, gets along well with peers, but there was something else. and it wasn’t just your grades. you were effortlessly likeable by peers, charming even. professors liked calling on you and offering you more challenging work, treatment only tom received. yet of all the groups you could have inserted yourself in, you chose his. and they gladly accepted you. why? something was different, off even, but he didn’t look into it because it didn’t seem to pose as a threat. deep down, you reminded tom of himself and he didn't know how to feel about it.
“i am confident you did.”
“oh, it’s because lestrange asked if i’d be his girlfriend, so i said no.” the corner of your mouth twitched in amusement. it wasn’t much, but seeing reinhard lestrange get flustered was revenge in it of itself.
“is that true, lestrange?” tom asked.
“….yes…” he sighed in defeat, sending a deathly glare your way.
“tough…” the salazar heir tsk’d, nearly letting a grin slip at the thought of you rejecting lestrange.
*.*.*.*
the following days were surpringly not awful. tom didn’t seem to notice his missing diary, and if he did you weren’t a suspect. you didn’t know exactly what to do with it. slipping into the head boys room and placing it in a “misplaced” area was stupid. tom didn’t seem like the person to misplace things, so he would definitely get suspicious— that is if he didn’t already sense someone forcefully entered his dwelling. avery claimed that he found the diary wedged in one of toms unattended textbooks during a late night study session. surely, you could put it back into one of his books if you got close enough. you just had to get the timing right.
while you waited for that window, you read the diary. accidentally, that is.
the third day after the hot potato journal in the library, your elbow knocked over your stack of books while writing your divinations essay, the book fell open.
june 22
i hate coming back here every summer…
no, this is wrong... you shut the diary and think for a minute.
to read this is public that is.
you have never ran to your room so quick, which was fortunately empty.
june 22
i hate coming back here every summer. the moment i step into wools orphanage i search for the nearest spoon to kill myself with.
yikes, starting off strong i see.
june 23
madam spinsky has me washing the floorboards like orphan annie. my welcome back present from “my vacation” at “boarding school”.
june 25
abraxas has invited me to the stay at the manor. his father will take care of my transportation. maybe i’ll put the spoon down for this summer.
each entry was short, but enough to put together the important parts of tom riddle. he was an orphan, a master charismatic, and most importantly-- wizard prodigy whose talents went beyond hogwarts curriculum. he seemed to always be scheming, sought after something larger. but rather than be frightened, you were intrigued.
september 1
there is a new girl. she is attractive.
you shut the book close, eyes wide. you look up finding a 5’5 brown haired girl in pajamas.
“janey, hi,” you say breathlessly. how long has your roommate been standing there? what time was it?
“are you alright, (y/n)? you’re sweating.” she stared in concern. her eyes fell to the book in your hands, smartly disguised as a romance novel. your eyes followed.
“steamy chapter,” you grin sheepishly. not the proudest of lies you have ever told, but it did the trick.
“oh, right…” she smiles awkwardly, cheeks going red. janey proceeded to slip under covers and kill the light in her bedside lantern. from the corner of the room you were sitting in you looked around and realized your two other roommates were also fast asleep.
the next day you went to the one person you could trust.
“what the bloody hell-“ nott cursed as he felt something grip onto his ankle. “oh sh-“ he was cut off by his fall to the ground and screamed as he was dragged underneath the table.
“(y/n)! you lunatic! you ever think of contacting me, i don’t know… literally any other way?” he exhaled.
“yeah yeah whatever, i’m hiding from riddle remember. anyway, look at this…” you opened the diary.
october 4
myrtle elizabeth warren grinds my gears.
you flipped forward a couple of pages as your cousins eye brows furrowed at the sheets of paper.
october 14
(y/n) (y/l/n) did wandless magic when she thought she was alone. she might be of use.
“this one,” you pointed to the entry. “what does it mean?” nott moved closer, taking the book and bringing it up to a more comfortable eye level.
“(y/n), this page is blank.”
“hardy har har you’re a real jester, nott.” you rolled your eyes. but the concerned look on his face told you he wasn’t joking. you took the diary back and looked down at the words that were 100% there. not worried, you flipped through the pages. they were all filled.
“they’re all blank. i believe you, but i don’t see anything.” well at least he didn’t think you were crazy.
“interesting…” you whisper to yourself. returning the book was pushed even further in the back of your mind. it was one thing to want to avoid tom because of a school boy crush, but another if he was plotting something and wanted you involved.
that night you were finishing the last two weeks of entries. tom had stopped writing five days prior to Avery taking it. he talked about a chamber, but didn’t go into detail. despite feeling like you have gotten to know tom on a deeper level that any other student has (with exception to his friends), it still felt like the diary was reserved. it seems that tom riddle didn’t even trust himself enough. rightfully so i guess, because what has two thumbs and read the whole thing? this guyyy...
after october 28, the last entry, you turned the page. just cuz.
give it back
ummm that doesn’t make sense. maybe we’re seeing things. you flipped the page back to october 28, then back to the next.
the ink seemed to be appearing as if an invisible hand were writing.
i know you have it, whoever you are
with that, you shut the diary and put all your books in your enchanted bag, slinging it over your shoulder. the diary was where it always was—tucked in your waistband under your jumper. you swiftly made your way out of the back of the library scanning your path as you walked briskly.
“you…” a voice spoke from down the corridor. your head whipped to the left seeing a very familiar head boy stalking his way toward you. you were lost in shock, the library door closing with a thud woke you up.
“expelliarmus!” you waved your hand sending the wand flying out of his hand, anticipating that he might stun you. distracted for half a second from astonishment, you made a run for it. your mary janes pounded the stone floor as you sprinted down the corridor. you were sure riddle went to retrieve his wand, giving you a few seconds as a head start. but soon enough, you heard his footsteps coming after you.
“(y/l/n)!” your heart was beating in your ears as you felt your abdomen burn. the sensation grew to your chest as you pumped your legs even farther. eventually you found yourself heading toward the astronomy tower. “stop running!” you could sense him getting closer.
“expelliarmus!” the clink of the wooden object smacking against the wall distracted him again. “and stop doing that!”
you reached the top of the tower. the midnight chill hitting your face. you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold, slowing down as you realized there was no where else to run. you had to face whatever was to come.
tom caught himself against the wall as he made his way to the top of the steps. wand in hand.
defensively you brought yours up, prepared to duel.
“what are you doing?” tom looked at you blankly, now approaching you.
“locomotor mortis!” you chanted. he blocked it effortlessly.
“stupefy!” deflected. he keeper moving forward.
“expelli-“ a sharp breath passed your lips as you felt your upper body tip back. your upper and lower body teetering, your lower back keeping the balance against the ledge. tom grabbed onto your forearms pulling you toward him. you gasp, slowly looking up at him. why didn’t he let you fall, or push you even?
“aren’t you going to kill me?” you whispered. there haven’t been many times you have seen a a fully expressed emotion on tom riddles face. but if you weren’t quaking in your boots at the moment, you’d be more surprised at his stunned expression.
“breaking curfew isnt exactly the most heinous of crimes, (y/l/n).” your face dropped along with the tenseness in your body.
oh. well this is awkward.
“why did you chase me then?” you looked at him like accusingly.
“because you ran first, and disarmed me before doing so.” he narrowed his eyes, “and correct me if i’m wrong (y/n), but you have been avoiding me this past week.” you gulp nervously. you have never had a personal conversation with the wizard, nonetheless be this close to him. it was beginning to feel overwhelming.
his breath was cool, you can smell mints as it fanned your face. his grip was strong on your arms, and his chest was inches from touching yours. tom sensed your unease and used it toward his advantage.
“what are you hiding?” he asked in a lower tone, pulling you closer to him. your noses were nearly touching now. tom looked down between you two.
“what is this?”
the diary.
before you could react, tom guided his hand down to the hem of your jumper. you froze still. his eyebrows were furrowed, watching his own movements. the moment his fingers met the grooves and texture of the leather bound book, his eyes shot up to yours, piercing into them. tom leaned into you more, holding the diary up beside his head. you inhaled sharply. wow he smells nice.
“you are able read it,” he mused, grinning.
“indeed” was all you could breathe out. even in the most terrifying of times your responses were always entertaining to him. you didn’t even deny it.
was he not surprised that you had it this whole time? was he even looking for it? would it even matter if it became lost if no one could read it? hotel? trivago.
“no one should be able to read it, but you can…” tom studied your face. it was an enchanted diary, made specifically for the owner and the owners eyes only. “i knew there was something about you (y/n) (y/l/n).”
it appears this diary was trouble this whole time, just in a different way the slytherin boys have warned about. it’s one thing to be an enemy of tom riddle, but something else to be of his interest.
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UTIL Plays Phoenix Wright: Justice for All (Case: Farewell My Turnabout)
Small Note: It took us two weeks to get through this case, so that’s why there wasnt one of these last week.
- *Nickel Samurai Slashes the Moon*
“FUCK THE MOON”
“Wow, Majora’s Mask looks different”
“Fly me to the moon, and let me kick its fucking ass”
- Pearl VA: Is he a sussy baka? Mr. Larry taught that word to me
Larry VA: I sure did
Edgeworth VA: You and me are going to have some words later
- “Prosecute Me Daddy~”
- “No one Maya likes stays alive”
- ”Not to judge people by their appearances but bellboy looked two-faced to me “
- “With a last name like De Killer, I’m sure he did De Killing”
- “The show is real popular with High School Students and Secretaries”
“Maya is the center of the ven diagram that is this shows demographic”|
“Ven MAYAgram”
- “Hi, my name’s Phoenix Wright and I went to law school to chase a guy”
“Hi Phoenix”
“Hi, my name is Elle Woods and I did the same”
“Hi Elle”
- “Lotta Hart? More like Lotta Hurt”
- “The finger prints are like the ballistic markings of your hands!”
“Yeah! Put a glove on that gun and you’ll never know where that bullet came from”
- “This bastard (Matt Engarde) is just Sans!”
- “ Is she… yknow.. a lawyer?”
- “(Oldbag) was married to von Karma”
“WHO HASN’T VON KARMA FUCKED? He’s the court bicycle”
“Manwhore Von Karma”
- (In relation to Phoenix’s relationships with the Fey Family) “The fey kidnapped him, and turned him into a lawyer”
- “When (Edgeworths)’s doing that pose I feel like something’s going to drop into his arms”
The whole call: “Yeah, Phoenix”
- “I’m tired Miles, carry me”
“That is what this whole case is about yes”
- “Mr. Edgeworth said she was in stable condition”
Franziska VA: She’s never been stable
- Director Hotti: Exists
The Entire Call: FUCK YOU PIECE OF SHIT DIE
- A Solid 2 minutes of the VC loosing our shit over the mental image of Edgeworth just picking up a 6 foot tall bear and leaving.
- “I love how no one questioned if Corrida hired the assassin himself”
“He really said ‘take me out’“
“Like with a Gun or on a date?”
“Surprise Me”
“This whole case is just a date gone wrong”
- Pearl VA: Sorry I had to go get mac and cheese
“I just had the mental image of Pearl Summoning Gregory’s spirit in Engarde’s kitchen and having him make Pearl mac and cheese”
- The entire VC got sad when Phoenix accidentally yelled at Gumshoe
- “You two can kiss and make up”
“Couples therapy!”
“This session of court is couples therapy”
- Edgeworth VA: Shit gets whack every time Wright is in the courtroom
Phoenix VA: you know what, that’s fair.
- “I’m just fucking with you your honor”
“Fuckery sustained”
- Coming to the realization that Phoenix is using the exact same method of deflecting that Manfred used in 1-4
- “Image your dragging yourself away from your captor with the last of your strength, and using your channeling power, which is exhausting you even more, and just as you’re about to pass out the last thing you see is MAX GALATICA’S FACE STARING DOWN AT YOU”
“Maya loses her "I survived big top" pin”
- Playing the loz chest sound effect when they opened the bear
-“Did he pickpocket Phoenix”
“He did”
“Slapped Phoenix’s ass”
“Buenos Días Phoenix”
“In court?”
“You get that ass Mr. Edgeworth Sir”
- Phoenix, checking his pockets: Babe did you take my evidence?
Edgeworth, wearing phoenix's hoodie: our evidence, babe. We share in a relationship
- Entire VC loosing their shit over the ‘Edgeworth Catch’ Phone animation
- Someone: Goes off on a tangent about Phoenix’s eyes.
“Heterochromia is the only hetero Phoenix will ever have or be“
- “We discovered the suicide note is forgery”
“Well isnt that a kick in the balls”
- “Will the court please refrain from unlocking repressed childhood memories”
“That’s what we do here”
- “This is an inclusive courtroom”
“No Gender in this court of law”
- Franziska: OBJECTION
Entire VC: Explodes in joy
- The “miracle” never happen.
-Engarde VA: *stops talking mid-sentence due to slow internet*
“Oh he died”
“Oh De Killer is FAST”
- “Look at these two finally talking about their emotions like adults! Oh Hi miss von Karma”
- “Who gave this website to (De Killer) ?”
“Squarespace!”
Video Version will be uploaded by @musashi at a later date!
#UTIL meets AA#Saturdays are for serotonin#and the finale to Game 2 was very much serotonin#ace attorney#very much looking forward to us starting game 3#next week is gonna be 3-1 and the 2-4 stage play
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Ok so,,, I basically just lurk and admire things in my own little corner. I dont use socials. I haven't been on tumblr for a loooong long while. Twitter is,,, scary. But I have to have a place to grieve about this where I can find others who understand. So I'm here. To vent. To find comfort. Let go.
I never formally got to interact with the fandom since I never built up the courage to try (I'm very socially anxious on the internet 💀), but Ranfren has seriously been something special to me over the past year I knew of it and has brought me immense joy in my own small corner.
And I'm Beyond Devastated that this has all come out about Captian.
It was funny!! It was spooky!! It was super funky!! It had anime !!! Its was just the right meld of these elements and god it was a vibe. The level of inspiration I was drawing from their work specifically was on a level I haven't felt before. I dont think another artist has ever griped me with their style like that, given me that "a-ha!" Moment about what direction I wanna take my own style in. It actually was so inspirational it was part of what helped me get back on track last year trying to pursue art school again. Captain's weird and wonderful characters and surreal artworks went on my vision board cause I felt that strongly about wanting to find a style like that. I wanted to try and get the courage to thank Captian one day for seriously giving me hope again, maybe after I got in and refined my own style so I had something to show for it. maybe I would have even cried happy tears and did the whole dreams do come true bit standing in my dormroom.
And then this.
I'm now not crying happy tears. Just normal ones.
I'm still going to go forward to art school believe me - this is not the only thing that has been pushing me onwards as my household isnt a safe place. Fending of depression and trying to keep all the emotions at bay long enough so I can focus on moving forward, moving twoards living, has taken longer than I'd want to admit. But I seriously didnt need another bullet in my heart through this already trying time.
As much as I dearly love the webcomic, I absolutely cannot condone the harmful actions that have been carried out. and I can't continue enjoying the comic in good conscience when I know these things. And the way it's being handled leads me to believe there likely wont be a satisfactory conclusion to all of this, if there was any hope of one to begin with. Yes, people can change, people make mistakes, but if they can't see the clear pain its causing and realize its vitally important to at least give a small unofficial apology before they make a bigger one, and have the audacity let their friends deflect the blame for them ? When the bloods on their hands? Reguardless of what the truth is I'm doubting they sincirely care based on how it's being handled. And that makes me so sad. So so so so so very sad...
I hope they eventually do the right thing and make an actual apology soon? But I know I will not be able to look at Ranfren with the same soarkle in my eyes. And with all things considered that just fucking sucks.
#ranfren#randal ivory#luther von ivory#nyen#nyon#randals friends#I feel somewhat better but very numb#sorry if you were somehow excited to see me return after all this time to tumblr just to see me vent#this ones gonna be haaard to get over man#just... fuck#guess i will now try and focus on demon slayer. not that i like that nearly as much.
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Let's Analyze - Alec in CoFA
So, I’ve been seeing plenty of discourse on two of my mutual’s blogs about this topic… so I thought I’d sit down and write another analysis post about my beloved Alec Lightwood cause people are still giving him shit for a book that came out ten years ago 🤦♀️
This is gonna be in two parts, and I'm putting both under the cut:
PART 1 - ALEC’S INSECURITIES
So, the first part - how Alec’s insecurities drove him to saying stupid things in CoFA
A quick disclaimer - I’m NOT blaming Alec alone for his and Magnus’s break up. What happened was pretty complicated, and the blame cannot be put on one person alone.
That said, let’s start with Magnus and Alec’s early ‘official’ relationship, in trsom.
These scenes are taken from only the first part of the book, but I’m pretty sure they’re more than enough to get a sense of Alec’s insecurities and all the chinks in their relationship. Throughout the entirety of trsom, we see more bits and pieces of Alec’s insecurities about Magnus’s sexuality, and his past and all the people he might have known - and that’s okay! Insecurities happen, cause brains are stupid like that.
But all of Alec’s insecurities could’ve been laid to rest with a simple conversation. But the conversation never happens. Magnus tends to deflect and change the topic every single time his past is brought up. I understand Magnus’s reasons for hiding his past, of course, but it doesn’t help his relationship with Alec. Magnus hiding a good chunk of his past will inevitably lead to Alec questioning himself - why is he so secretive? Why is he not telling me anything? Does he not trust me? ...and so on.
And when Alec is already feeling insecure in this relationship, this happens - (sorry about the terrible cropping btw)
And then later, while Magnus is talking to Camille,
Now… when people are insecure about something, they get irked at the smallest of things. I’m saying this as an insecure person myself. So now, you've got Alec, who's insecure as fuck, and his vacation with the person he loves got cut short by his ex who refuses to talk to anyone but him, and when they get there, his lover and his lover's ex seem to have obvious chemistry, he gets hit with the reality that his lover has dated several, probably even hundreds of people before him; and he has to leave them alone in a room so they can talk, and then he hears the ex basically just list all his shortcomings - i.e, his mortality, his appearance is compared to some random dead guy (sorry, Will) whom your lover had a crush on, which is just weird, and when you've had enough and open the door, it's to see your lover and his ex, standing close as fuck, and he's! touching! her! face! and! looking! into! her! eyes!
*takes a sip of water* yeahhhh... Alec was straight up having a bad day.
And at this point, a) Alec is still in his first relationship. He didn't get to navigate romance when he was younger, and while there's nothing wrong with that, there weren't exactly cutesy presentations titled 'how to keep your relationships healthy' floating around the internet. Heck, he didn’t know the internet. He didn't know that he had to communicate with Magnus, and it doesn't help that boy avoids conversations about feelings like the plague. And b) at this point, Alec would be facing several negative emotions - insecurity, obviously. Hurt. Helplessness, because of his mortality. Fear, that he might not live up to Magnus’s past lovers. Jealousy at seeing Magnus and Camille so close.
Negative emotions like these often tend to show up as anger or sorrow... and in Alec’s case, that would be anger. Which leads us to THIS- (🙈)
*sighs in second-hand embarrassment*
*drinks more water*
*this is gonna be so hard aksjakak*
So. Alec dealt with his insecurities... by being a mean, mean bitch to Magnus :/
Let's break this scene down, slowly, bit by bit.
First, Alec cuts into a conversation between Magnus and Jordan, when Magnus mentions Woolsey Scott, followed the rest of that particular page. To Alec, he's just a figure from Magnus’s past, and a possible lover, though in Alec’s defense Woolsey Scott WAS Magnus’s lover. This is the first instance that we see in which Alec lashes out at Magnus. It seems like he's trying to make a point to Magnus - "I don't know anything about your past, and so I don't know who you've had romances with, but I want to know." Except he makes his point in the worst way possible and ends up slutshaming Magnus.
The "What's true?" line, in response to Jordan saying "so it's true what they say about warlocks, then?" is pretty obvious. Alec is clearly not liking the idea that this random werewolf might know about warlocks, and in particular, his Warlock boyfriend.
Next... ooh boy... Alec basically snaps and in the next few paragraphs accuses Magnus of wanting to flirt with others which... is not a good look on ya honey 😕. These lines are the ones that get him accused of being biphobic... but is he really? I'm gonna talk about that in part 2.
So, in the first paragraph, where Alec makes the comments about Jordan, I find his choice of words pretty... interesting, seeing as 'messy-haired', 'broad-shouldered' and 'chiseled-good-looks' are all used to describe Alec in the series. Not sure if its relevant, but definitely interesting.
And in the next one, where Alec says, "or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren't into?" The 'apparently' makes me curious. In rsom, Alec mentions that he's only recently heard of the term bisexual, and there's plenty of time between rsom and cofa, so Alec should be absolutely sure of atleast the basic meaning of bisexuality. But I'm pretty sure it's just inconsistency on cc's part, since if rsom didn't exist, this book would be the first time Alec learns about Magnus’s bisexuality. (Which is obvious when you look at the scene after Magnus reveals that Camille is his girlfriend.) And as for the second sentence, I feel like it's a fallback to earlier in the book when Magnus says (I'm just gonna write the dialogue from memory), "I've dated men, women, warlocks, faeries, vampires, werewolves and even a djinn or two." Here, Alec is angry, and he takes the knowledge that Magnus has dated a variety of people and once again, lashes out.
Looking at all of it together, Alec’s insecurities are definitely a factor in all of this. We know Alec has pretty low self esteem in tmi, and he keeps having irrational thoughts about someone else grabbing Magnus’s attention, like in the trsom scene I've posted above. And he ends up taking out his insecurities on Magnus.
Was it wrong of Alec to say all those things to Magnus? Yes, absolutely. But looking back through all his scenes in cofa, it's easy to see how he could've fallen into the pit trap of emotions.
And before anyone says "but it wasn't addressed in the later books", it was, in CoLS. I’ve hit the image limit, so I'm just gonna type it out -
"[Magnus] said it would be better if he didn’t come. Apparently him and the Seelie Queen have some kind of history."
Isabelle raised her eyebrows.
"Not that kind of history," Alec said irritably. "Some kind of feud. Though," he added, half under his breath, "the way he got around before me, I wouldn't be surprised."
"Alec!" Isabelle dropped back to talk to her brother....
So, there. Alec makes yet another slutshaming comment, Isabelle overhears and is clearly not happy about it, and it's clearly implied that she talks to Alec about it. And Alec doesn't make any more slutshaming comments since then. Boy now knows what he did was wrong, and makes sure not to repeat it again.
Although, I do wish we had more than this. I wish we had more of Magnus and Alec talking about this argument, heck, even about all their arguments and the reasons they broke up, but you can't get everything you want, apparently :(
And now onto the next part...
PART 2 - IS ALEC BIPHOBIC?
The short answer, uh, no, not really.
The long answer.... would be complicated.
So, back in the day, when this discourse was at an all time high, I remember reading a bisexual person's essay about this topic, and they said that this comment from Alec - "or there are plenty of pretty girls here, since apparently your taste goes both ways. Is there anything you aren't into?" - would be a biphobic microagression.
According to Google, a microagression is "a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group such as a racial or ethnic minority".
And in Alec's case, IF his words were biphobic, they were completely unintentional. They were microagressive. Which is... still bad, of course, but it's more complicated than that.
If you look back on Alec's supposedly biphobic statements, they're more about Magnus’s hypersexuality and promiscuity than anything else. Yes, even the line i mentioned like two paragraphs ago. At first glance it may seem like a direct attack on Magnus’s sexuality, but think over the explanation I gave for the line and it will make sense. And a lot of people know that the whole 'bi people fuck around a lot and are cheaters' thing is a stereotype.
Now, it may seem like I'm going off topic here, but bear with me. I couple of days ago, I watched this video by chance. (Tw for the aids crisis and lots of biphobia, not from the narrator, if you wanna watch the video). Basically, back in the 1980s, bisexual men were scapegoated for spreading aids to the straight community and were vilified by popular media as being promiscuous scepters who would cheat on their wives with gay men and then give aids to their wives. (Yikes 😬). And since bisexuality was practically unheard of before all this (several bisexual activists have stated that all this shit, though unfortunate, pulled bisexuality out of the closet), it's safe to assume that this is how those stereotypes came to be - through 1980s propaganda.
But living with this propaganda is... a very limiting experience. The people who leaned and unlearned and fought against this propaganda are mostly US Americans who grew up with it, either the actual propaganda itself or passed down by their parents. But like I said, it's a very limiting experience. US is but one country out of many, and even for those living in the USA there's a chance that they grew up in a very hush-hush environment. People who grew up hearing all these stereotypes will see it as biphobia, while people who didn't - like Alec, and me, and several other people will not. A lot of people grow up with absolutely no knowledge of the queer community, and chances are that they'll be incredibly confused when a stereotype is pointed out to them, and they often get no more explanation than 'this is a harmful stereotype'. Queer experiences aren't the same for everyone, and while I respect the people who see this as biphobia, they should recognize that there are many people who won't see it that way.
I have seen bisexual people say that Alec's words were biphobic, and I've also seen bisexual people say that they weren't. Thus, there is no clear consensus about whether or not Alec was being biphobic. And like I said earlier, Alec grew up far, far away from mundane anti-queer bigotry. He was essentially a clean slate when it came to knowledge of eer microagressions of any kind, because microagressions and stereotypes are often incredibly specific, don't have anything to do with a person's race/sexuality/gender, etc. and will make zero sense unless you know the history behind them. To Magnus, who lived through the anti-bisexual scapegoating, the words would've definitely stung, but Alec didn't even know the implications he would be making with this words! Of course, the impact is greater than intention, and I imagine Magnus would sit Alec down one day and talk about all this history with him.
And idk if I can even blame cc cause the history of bisexual men is RARELY ever talked about, atleast on the internet.
Also, this scene in cofa is the only instance where he can be interpreted to be biphobic. Nowhere else in all of tmi, and even tec, do we see Alec express hatred or disgust or microagression towards bisexual people. If this was seen in a repeating pattern from Alec, one could argue that he's biphobic... but he isn't. Some might point to some of his internal thoughts in trsom to argue otherwise, but I believe that actions are superior than thoughts.
There's also the thing about unlearning prejudices, but in Alec's case there was hardly anything to be unlearned. The only prejudices he did pick up on were against himself, through vague homophobic comments from Robert.
P.S if you've read this far, I am legally entitled to compensation for thinking of cofa Alec for 48 hours. Put your favorite Alec moments in my askbox cause I wanna focus on his good side now. 😎
But yeah, the main thing here is that Alec has grown from his mistakes, apologized, and hasn't repeated this behavior at all.
And lastly, I just wanted to add - I don't think all this was unintentional on the author's part. She's grown up with the us American queer community, and has mentioned that she has bisexual friends, who have no doubt faced prejudices because of these stereotypes. I think she was trying to condemn making such statements, but a lot of people don't read between the lines and end up misinterpreting it and make both the character and her to be biphobic.
So... TLDR; was what Alec said biphobic? Maybe. It depends on who you're talking to. Is Alec, as a person, biphobic? Nope. Not at all. 😌
#this took WAYYYYY too long#im gonna go lay down for a while now#peace out#alec lightwood#magnus bane#malec#tmi#tec#tsc#meta#tsc meta#discourse#idk what else to tag hnnnng#i just hope i did this topic justice aksjakaksk#also idk what person needs to hear this#but im a bisexual person talking about bisexual issues#im not the authority on this obviously but if anyone pulls the 'i don't like this post so imma pull the OP is a straight person card'#imma SLAP you#😤😤😤#laks analyses
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Hi!! I’ve got a request. I’m not sure if you’ve seen WandaVision or if you watch MCU movies, but I have one that relates to it. How do you think the pillarmen would react to their lovely s/o having abilities like Scarlet witch? Telekinesis, Telepathy, manipulation of reality, force fields, etc. S/o can also technically have flight by using her telekinesis powers too. She’s incredibly powerful! But isn’t physically powerful.
Oh yes! 😮😍🤩 I love Marvel! I grew up watching the movies a lot (you can thank my older brother for that 🤪) and I LOVE this idea, Anon! ❤❤❤
However, I have not seen WandaVision 😭😭😭 IT LOOKS SO GOOD! But I have cruddy internet due to the fact I live far out into the woods 😔 (and the internet has once again thrown spoilers into my eyes like pepperspray) sooo... I can only hope one day I will get the chance to enjoy it 😅
Either way, I do hope you enjoy this! I'm so sorry this took a little longer than anticipated 😅😇 I promise after this request we'll be back to our regularly scheduled writing!
The Pillarmen (separate) with an s/o that has abilities similar to Scarlet Witch...
(Under the cut for length...)
Kars:
• Kars always found your powers intriguing to say the least.
• Even when he first came to the realization that you possessed some sort of "super human" abilities, he found himself wanting nothing more than to study you.
• Perhaps you had done this to yourself by craft or perhaps not...
• In either case, you both were a couple with same differences.
• You could be out there trying to rise to greater power or status (much like he had done crafting his stonemasks), or even go so far as to try and take over the world with your abilities...
• The only problem being that you only found real use for them when reaching for the T.V. remote when it was too far away or manipulating time itself when you were late for work.
• Kars considered giving you some encouragement in using your powers for more but you held no interest in being "powerful" despite the fact you were already powerful!
• And then there was also the matter of you putting your telepathy to use...
• "Are you in the kitchen?" The ghostly whisper of your voice echoing through his mind never failed to send a shiver down his spine.
• "Yes." He replied, frowning into empty air. "Bring me a popsicle." Came the mental command, only making him sigh aloud. "Why can you not just get up and get it yourself? The living room is literally one room over!"
• "You're closer." The simple reply only made him roll his eyes. "And you're the one with super Human abilities, dear." He responded, unable to stop the curl of his lip into a little smirk.
• He was certain he had you now.
• The massive Pillarman could only blink as the fridge to his right started to emanate with a glowing crimson mist, the door suddenly swinging open by itself.
• A single blue popsicle encased in the same mist picked itself out of the freezer and dangled in the air before him before flying out of the kitchen and into the living room before his very eyes.
• "Thanks for reminding me, honey!" Your cheery voice chirped, echoing off the walls of his brain.
• Kars supposed he just had to be content that you were happy with yourself by doing what you wished with your powers...
• Even if it only encouraged you to be lazy.
Esidisi:
• Esidisi, much like Kars, finds you to be a fascinating creature indeed.
• He had no idea that Humans could do such wonderful things without the aid of some kind of craft; like the stonemask that blessed him his own powers.
• He finds it hilarious, not to mention adorable, that you had all sorts of incredible abilities at your disposal and yet... you carried out your life like a normal Human.
• You went to work and paid bills for crying out loud.
• Even from the moment you two met, he always asked you to do things both crazy and (a lot of the times) not a little dangerous.
• He'd ask you to levitate off the ground to reach for something even though he was tall enough to get it, simply because he was amazed you could do so.
• Or he'd plead with you to take him to another reality so he could fight with the robot-pirate empire.
• The man especially got a kick out of the probability manipulation part of your powers.
• "Say, what's the probability my bathtub will be overflowing with rubber ducks when I go in?" He questioned with a grin.
• You pursed your lips, only half paying attention as you were invested in a video game. You hadn't exactly heard his question but still chose to give an answer.
• "Hmm, 170%." Came the reply.
• That was all the Pillarman needed to hear before Esidisi was excitedly scurrying towards the bathroom, practically bouncing as he stopped to make a grab for the doorhandle.
• It was only in that moment when his question truly sunk in with you, making you blink olwishly as you spun around in your seat to stop him. "--WAIT!"
• Too late.
• The flood of rubber ducks hitting him and sweeping him away down the hall as soon as he flung open the door was highly unexpected but very much welcomed by him.
• If anything, you were happy he didn't have a way to obtain these powers himself; then you would have to really use your powers to fix even more problems he made with them.
• However, you wouldn't deny he helped you get some good practice in when making all sorts of requests...
Wamuu:
• Your powers made Wamuu view you as a worthy opponent for a Human, even long before he fell head over heals for you.
• Before meeting you, he had no idea Humans could obtain such incredible feats and abilities.
• He was under the impression that Hamon was the limitation to Human powers.
• But it was more than clear to him that you weren't exactly a fighter despite the fact you could use them for battle.
• After a little persuasion on his part however, he managed to coax you into sparring or training with him in your free time, making the Warrior absolutely elated to see you in action.
• Fighting against you was exhilarating and actually a challenge to Wamuu, he greatly enjoyed every second of it.
• You could easily deflect sharp blasts of his wind with your force fields like nothing.
• To his astonishment, there was not so much as a hair out of place the time he decided to use his Divine Sandstorm on you.
• "Now, make sure you hold onto me and don't let go." You ordered, smiling softly as his massive arms wrapped around your body.
• Wamuu cocked an eyebrow curiously, frowning down at you where you also held him. You had brought him outside and told him that you were going to show him something.
• "What is--?" The Pillarman's words died on his tongue as he suddenly felt his feet lift off the ground, a weightlessness overtaking his body as if he were nothing but a balloon filled with helium.
• He looked down with wide eyes to find that you and him were hovering right off the ground... no, flying!
• The two of you were actually flying and without wings too!
• You could only laugh at his shocked expression, going higher into thee air with every second. His clothes and the wires of his headgear flapped in an invisible breeze as you took him all the way up into the sky.
• Wamuu finally found his voice, his shocked expression now carrying a HUGE smile as his eyes glittered with delight. "My beloved, you're-- You're something absolutely extraordinary!"
• Your powers and the way you use them will never cease to amaze and impress Wamuu. No matter how many times he sees them it always seemed like you had a trick up your sleeve.
Santana:
• From the moment he laid eyes on you, Santana knew there was something very different about you.
• Something... magical. Out of this world.
• You weren't like any other Human he had ever encountered before (and he had definitely me his share of oddball Humans in his life).
• At first he thought that your super Human abilities were some kind of offspring or held some direct link to that "Hamon" ability he knew Humans practiced...
• But with more examination, more time spent with you and some reassurance on your part, he came to find it was in fact something completely different.
• Always curious, Santana liked to watch you use your powers even for just the little things like moving furniture or turning the lightswitch off from across the room.
• Crash! You had heard the vase break form the other room and weren't surprised to find Santana standing over the shattered remains of pottery.
• The red-head looked surprisingly sheepish, he hadn't meant to break it. "Sorry." Was all he said, baby blue eyes dropping down to the mess on the floor.
• A smile appeared as you waved your hand in the air, a bright red fog following your movement. "Don't worry about it," you hummed.
• Santana only stared, lips parted and eyes wide as the pieces suddenly reformed in mid-air. It was as if time went backwards before his very eyes and before he knew it, the vase was standing before him where the mess of shards once was; completely unscathed.
• "See?" You laughed, more than a little amused to see him so astonished. "No problem."
• A soft smile found its way to Santana's lips. You watched the Pillarman lean down and wrap his hands around the pottery gingerly, picking it up and turning it in his palms to check for any signs of breakage.
• "Impressive..." he murmured, making you feel a little boost in pride.
• You couldn't stop yourself from jumping, a yelp escaping your lips, in surprise as Santana suddenly threw the vase down hard on the floor, smashing it to even tinier bits than before.
• His eyes fell on you, still reeling from shock, as he pointed to the mess. "Again?" He questioned.
• ...with great power came great responsibility. And great messes to clean.
• You could only hope he wouldn't break all your plates next just to see you fix them.
#funnybunny#pillarmen#kars#esidisi#wamuu#santana#pillarmen headcanons#kars x reader#esidisi x reader#wamuu x reader#santana x reader#my wriring#anon ask
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Coming Out As Asexual/Aspec
Pairings: Javier Pena x reader, Marcus Pike x reader, Din Djarin x reader, Ezra x reader, Frankie Morales x reader
Word count: 2.3K (oops)
Warnings: discussions of sexuality, depictions of main characters as Aspec
A/n: I apologize these were meant to be head canons and a few of them wound up turning into mini fics. I would like to thank @dishonouringmycow for supplying many ideas and helping me concoct these for you and @kiss-evans for her insight as well. These were a lot of fun to write! We’ve written these HCs in hopes that they will be inclusive and relatable to most ace/demi-/greysexual folks and anyone in between. We hope you like them!
[masterlist]
Javier Peña
Telling Javi is a little tricky.
Given the time period, and the fact that asexuality was hardly a word let alone a widely accepted concept, Javier didn’t stand a chance when you went about explaining to him your “unconventional” relationship with sexual attraction.
You didn’t even fully understand it yourself at that point which is why you were terrified when you felt you owed him an explanation for turning him down.
You and Javi had been dancing around each other since pretty much the moment you landed in Bogata.
You knew you cared about him more than the average coworker and Steve didn’t hesitate to tease either of you mercilessly for it with every chance he got.
But there was a reason you had been avoiding acting on those feelings you harboured for him and a reason you were so terrified when he reciprocated them.
Silence overwhelms the small stakeout vehicle when you tell him.
He doesn’t get it.
“Oh.”
The disappointment that pours off of him is palpable.
This really wasn’t the reaction he was expecting to the heartfelt confession he had mustered up the courage for only moments ago.
“Javi,” You sigh, “It’s not like that. It’s not personal. I don’t feel attracted to anyone that way.” You reiterate but he still seems convinced that this is just an elaborate attempt to spare his feelings.
“You don’t have to do that, you know? You don’t have to let me down easy.”
“That’s not what this is. I really just don’t operate that way.”
You had seen the girls coming and going from his apartment across the hall. You knew how he chose to blow off steam after stressful days at work and you knew you couldn’t keep up with that.
“I don’t think I can be there for you like you want me to.”
It takes a moment for it to dawn on him what you mean and you think he finally takes the hint when another ‘oh’ escapes him.
“I don’t need-“ He starts up but cuts himself off when you give him a pointed look.
“I really, really wanted this to work.” He says after what feels like hours of you discussing all the reasons you would wind up resenting each other if you went down that path. All the fears you had of starting something up with him.
“Me too.” You hum solemnly when you deflate to lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
He’s quick to shake his head and whisper a quiet “Don’t apologize.” When he wraps an arm around you and places a kiss to the top of your head.
You both walk away from that stakeout with heavy hearts but lighter shoulders and although it takes some time to heal you learn to show how much you care about each other in different ways.
Now he slings an arm around your shoulders when you’re getting unwanted attention on a night out.
You stay up drinking with him so he doesn’t have to brood alone after a particularly tiring day.
Soft touches and reassuring words come easier between you two.
Most importantly you’re both happy and you haven’t lost each other.
Marcus Pike
Marcus is a little less clueless.
He knows Asexuality exists and has a vague sense of what it is, he just doesn’t know a whole lot about it.
There’s not much pressure when you tell him.
It comes as a bit of a disclaimer early in your relationship and you try not to make a big deal of it. You just want to make sure that he’s aware as your relationship progresses.
Marcus, ever the sweet and compassionate boyfriend is attentive and understanding as you speak.
The words that seem to stick out in his mind come at the only point when the slightest bit of doubt weens it’s way into your voice, “I just wanted to make sure that that’s- that I’m enough for you.”
His heart stops and he’s overcome by a feeling of both shock and sorrow that you could ever think such a thing of yourself.
“Of course. Of course, you’re enough.”
“You’re more than enough. You’re… you’re everything.”
What you don’t see is the way that after this conversation he finds himself wracking up more and more questions that he’s too scared to ask you. Not because he’s afraid of the answer but because he doesn’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable.
So naturally, he turns to the next best thing.
The internet.
What he fails to realize is how broad a spectrum of asexuality there is and all he gets is more and more confused.
Marcus accidentally develops a following on Aspec Reddit forums for trying to ask people questions and them all just going “aww, Hun” at this poor clueless bean and swooning over how much he cares about you.
Despite the enthusiasm and volume of their responses, they don’t really add much clarity beyond “Hey, maybe you should ask your SO”
Instead, he runs around treating you like glass while he tries to buck up the courage to actually talk to you about it until on a movie night as he awkwardly tries to contort himself around you so he’s cuddling you… without touching you, you finally snap.
“Marcus! What is going on?”
That’s when he finally and rather sheepishly admits that he wants you to tell him more about your sexuality.
“Oh.”
You pause the movie and give him your full attention as you try and talk him through as much as you’re able to explain until suddenly you’re stuck for an answer and you look up at him with rather watery eyes as you admit you have no idea and suddenly you’re the one having the existential crisis.
“Oh, oh no. It’s alright, we can figure it out together! Shhh, it’s all fine. Please don’t cry! Reddit didn’t tell me this would happen!”
“Who-ddit?”
Din Djarin
Coming out to Din is rather anticlimactic.
He doesn’t have much to say beyond “Okay.”
You’re a little confused at first.
That went… too well.
It’s a while later when he brings it up again that you begin to realize why.
There’s no hesitation or taboo, he’s quite straight forward when he asks why you were so nervous.
At first, you’re not so sure what to say. Wasn’t that kind of obvious?
“Not everyone takes it so well.” You shrug thinking back to past relationships where your partners seemed to expect you to give them more than you were willing to.
You could practically see the gears turning behind his visor and it’s only now that you connect the dots and his reaction from before seems to add up.
To him, that was the norm.
It makes sense the more you think about it.
In all the time you had spent travelling with him, all the objectively beautiful women, men and everyone else in between that had crossed your paths, all the slurs that had been thrown at him by drunkards in cantinas about how he fucks with all that armour on, all the rather compromising situations you had found yourself in with him before and you had never caught his gaze wander or heard him express any indication of interest in yourself or anyone in that way.
You had always put it down to his creed. As far as you were aware such things were forbidden for people of his faith but you’re left with an odd sense of comfort as you realized that wasn’t the case.
Perhaps this was his strange little way of letting you know you weren’t alone.
Ezra
When you met Ezra you were prepared for the worst.
A guy as cocky and loquacious as him and you just trying to keep your head down in the busy bar and enjoy your drink in peace after a rough day.
You didn’t have high hopes when he swung into the booth across from you and started down whatever elaborate story he had decided would impress you enough to get you into bed.
“It’s my missing appendage, isn’t it?” he asks when you quite clearly don’t bite.
He’s already moving to leave you be when your eyebrows knit together in confusion and your eyes blow wide as you’re hit with a sudden wave of guilt.
You had grown used to deflecting advances like this but something about the way he said it, the bold, charismatic man suddenly looking like a kicked puppy made your guts churn.
You didn’t normally give an explanation, you didn’t feel you owed anyone that, especially not a stranger and yet here you were.
“What? No! No, I actually think you’re very good looking and charming and all those things people look for in a partner, I’m just not particularly one for casual hookups.” You say looking around the room where you now felt wildly out of place with just about all of its inhabitants presumably looking to get laid or trying to forget someone they couldn’t do so with.
“...Or any hookups really.” You correct yourself and watch as the disappointed look on his face morphs into a glint of curiosity.
“You a uh- a spade?” He asks resettling into the booth, an oblivious smile settling on his cheeks when you laugh at him.
You spend until last-call deeply enthralled in conversation and comforted by one another’s company.
That’s all either of you were here for in the first place, to feel a little less lonely.
You’re only pried apart by the closing of the bar, the nag of sleep hot on your heels and the promise that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of each other.
Frankie Morales
Frankie knew you were asexual.
You had told him before, he just didn’t entirely understand what that meant until much later on.
He seemed familiar with the term but his knowledge of the concept didn’t seem to extend beyond a basic definition.
Frankie’s first wife was his first for a lot of things. First girlfriend, first kiss, first love, first lover, first breakup.
He took the divorce pretty hard, as anyone would.
They’d gotten married so young, before he was deployed, that the guys had never seen him single before and neither had he really.
It took a long time for him to recover and by then he was content. ‘not in a particularly big rush to start down the relationship path and get hurt again’ is how he had phrased it to you once in confidence.
But another factor that he failed to recognize fully at the time was that he just hadn’t found anyone he was interested in in that way.
He’d tried going on a couple of dates but none of them clicked and it just left him feeling more alone.
It was after Tom died, almost five years after his divorce that the guys finally called him on it.
At first they just assumed the way he had been acting was about Tom and in a sense it was, Tom was the only one who had been through a divorce before, he was the only one who really understood and talked him through it when the going got tough.
Will was the one to put the pieces together and realize that the issue wasn’t Tom so much as Frankie getting more and more tired of being on his own.
His intentions were well meaning. They were just trying to help.
All they wanted was to see him happy but the more the boys seemed to try and set him up, the more resistance they were met with and even Frankie couldn’t figure out why until he was sat, venting to you about it one night.
“How did you know you were ace?” He blurts out suddenly and you’re a little lost for words, you weren’t really expecting this conversation to go this way but it was obviously something he had been considering for a while.
“Sorry that wasn’t a fair question,” He says when he notices you’re struggling, “I just- they keep trying to set me up with, who I’m sure are some really great people, but it’s all on this little tiny screen and all you see are a couple photos and maybe a blurb if you’re lucky and there’s just no…”
“Connection?” You suggest. Those big puppy eyes shoot up to you from where they were fixed on the counter in front of him and he gives you a slight nod.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He sighs and your heart breaks a little looking at him like that before you round the counter and pull him into a hug. “I’ve felt attraction before but I look at the guys and it feels like it takes so much more for me to get to that point than them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You assure him gently, brushing your fingers through his hair when you pull away to give him a reassuring smile. “Sounds like you could be on the asexuality spectrum.”
“There’s a spectrum?”
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What I find scary as fuck is how unwaveringly anti two state solution the loudest pro Palestine voices on the internet are. What do they think is going to happen to Israeli Jews under Palestinian rule? Do they think it's going to be any different than the rampant antisemitism faced by Jews in any other Middle Eastern country (which led to such a great influx of Middle Eastern Jewish refugees to Israel in the 1950s in the first place)? Or do they (rightfully) consider Israel an apartheid state but not Islamic states’ treatment of dhimmi under Sharia law?
I have much empathy for the Palestinian plight and I used to think antisemitism was only ever brought up as an excuse to deflect any criticism of Israel. But the more things escalate in Palestine, the more comfortable people become in being openly antisemitic and the more it dawns on me what Israelis mean when they say it's essential for a Jewish state to exist. Yes, Israel should absolutely be held accountable for its war crimes against Palestinians. But seeing liberals talk about Holocaust victims fleeing Europe, people who were open to negotiations with Arabs and a two state solution so they could make a home in the land of their ancestors as “colonizers” is just heartless
I have a lot of issues with current (American) left-wing activism, but its enthusiastic adoption of Noble Savage tropes and unquestioning parroting of radical Islamist points are probably at the top of my list. And while many people are just young, a lot of others should really know better.
As for the current situation, look - personally I don’t see the whole ‘colonizer’ mindset as useful at all. I think that, realistically, every nation state in the world got where it is by appropriating someone else’s land and massacring or assimilating minority communities. That’s how things work. And before nation states there were kingdoms, and before that villages and tribes and groups of wandering half-apes, and this is a thing that always happens: sooner or later, you’re going to want or need more land. Maybe yours got barren, or submerged by a flood, or invaded by someone else. Maybe your community grew too big. Or maybe you have a visionary or an asshole chief who’s all like, ‘If we had more pastures then we’d have a godzillion horses and no one would ever go hungry again’ - in a way, the why doesn’t even matter. The realpolitik here is that these things happen and have happened a lot over the last three centuries or so, which means the number one item on our list as democratic governments (term used loosely and optimistically) is always the same: making sure people are fed and making sure they know their voice counts so they don’t start to question why the country exists at all.
(It may sound cynical, but we often lose sight of the fact there’s a difference between ‘moral discussion about moral implications of moral choices’ and ‘practical decision we can bring to a negotiation table with enemies and opponents’. Sometimes you’re right but you need to compromise anyway, and that’s something else that’s never going to change.)
In the end, this is what 99.9% of people care about: if your kids are happy, if you have a house and a job, and if you feel yourself represented and part of the country you live in (and know you can peacefully demand meaningful change if you need to), you don’t give that many fucks about everything else. That’s why, on the whole, most separatist movements go nowhere: because while many people agree on a very basic human principle (“Things would be much better if everyone was like me and thought like me”), they’re not that keen to trade their stability and security for economic chaos or even civil war...for what? All nation states, in the end, are fictional creations, and deep down everyone understands it: when you’re leading a decently happy life, the colour of your passport doesn’t really matter all that much.
So the issue here is not even who’s right and who’s wrong. Of course it’s important to recognize even old crimes and tragedies: it’s definitely one of the steps towards healing and peace and (let’s be optimistic again) the reason why international courts exist, but the immediate priority is always keeping people safe. I mean if you had to make right all the border insanity that went down even in the 20th century, you wouldn’t have the time or resources to do anything else, and, more importantly, you would only create more hostility and conflict in the process. The issue is, a) let’s try not to make more mess in the future and mostly b) let’s make sure everyone is happy and feels heard where he is. If Israel had a system like, idk, Switzerland, with tons of shared wealth and a Parliament full of different voices and minority people getting federal subsidies to preserve their unique cultures and traditions, there would be zero violence. Like of course some people would still resent Israel is there in the first place, and others would resent Israel existing not as a Jewish state but as a nation with sizable Muslim and Christian minorities or whatever else, but it wouldn’t come to civil war because everyone would have too much to lose.
Unfortunately, in many cases it’s just too late to undo the initial damage. The best we can work towards is ensuring people are safe, can build good lives and are politically represented. The main problem we have now in many regions around the world - like the Middle East - is that lots of powerful people have zero interest not only in righting historical wrongs but also in ensuring literal human beings are not killed in the streets. And as long as their power is made stronger by chaos, hatred and violence, we’re not going to get anywhere.
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It's low key hilarious how quiet you are on China racially targeting Africans over Covid-19 and trying to make black people the face of this virus when it originated in China. Yet when when it was being called China virus you made sure to be outraged over that. You claim you're pro black but are always oddly silently when it comes African issues or black people dealing with racism from other "POC". And since u have little regard for us Africans then stop objectifying our women.
Before I respond to your absolute DRIVEL, let me provide some critical context for those reading:
Months ago, I don’t remember how long ago, but it was definitely before COVID. There was a news article showing Asian-Americans in the U.S. having racist things to them done by white people. The responses and comment section were the typical race-to-the-bottom / low-hanging-fruit fare you typically find from people who would be better served not speaking up on social issues at all.
So I jumped into the comments like “Yo, why are y’all rejoicing over the hardships of other POC”??? And the response I got was about how solidarity is a myth... blah blah.
So here we are many months later, and there are reports of landlords in China kicking out African immigrants over Covid.... which led this poor soul into my inbox.
1. Donald Trump referring to COVID as a “Chinese Virus” is a political tool used to deflect the fact that tens of thousands of Americans are dying due to our leadership being unprepared for this crisis. Any time you call it a “Chinese Virus”, you are aiding him on that mission. How does this benefit Black people? This is not a rhetorical question, answer it.
2. The United States brand of White supremacy is the one of the most destructive and powerful forces in human history, why are y’all so hell bent on sending Black people on a suicide mission to destroy this force alone? When I call for solidarity between POC, its not out of the goodness of my heart. It’s because its going to take everyone working together to win. WE. NEED. TO. WORK. TOGETHER. TO. WIN. PERIOD.
3. Using context clues from your ill-conceived message, I’m guessing you’re African. But let me speak to Black Americans for a second.
Black Americans want everyone else to use all the context in the world when it comes to how they view our people. But we are not willing to extend that same courtesy to others.
For example, when it comes to the plight of Black Americans, our incarceration rate, our income, etc. We want everyone to understand there has been a system set in place by the White Power structure for us to lose. Everything from slavery, to Jim Crow, to COINTELPRO, to racist drug laws. And all of that is correct and true.
But the Chinese people in China have lived under a brutal and oppressive system that has taught and indoctrinated them since birth to hold some of the ignorant ass views they have about Africans and Black people. They don’t even have access to a free and open internet to educate themselves to the level that we do.
If we want people to understand why Black Americans don’t always make the best decisions, I think its fair to have that same consideration for another marginalized and oppressed people dealing with their own crisis with their own government.
4. I didn’t speak publicly on this issue because I didn’t feel I needed to. What do y’all want me to say? CHINESE GOVERNMENT BAD.
Yeah, no shit. Water is wet. Of course the Chinese government is a piece of shit.
I don’t have the authority of speak on African-Chinese issues the way I have authority to speak on American issues happening in America.
-----------
In conclusion:
The most unsophisticated way to bond with your own race is to rejoice over the destruction of another race. That’s low hanging fruit that appeals to the most basic parts of our brain.
Before someone takes this out of context. I am not suggesting that Black people go march in the street on behalf of chinese people.
All I ever suggested is that we NOT celebrate their hardship because it does not serve our mission in combating White supremacy.
How is this controversial?
I swear to God if I knew what your username was, I would block your ass on Instagram for even making me have to open my laptop to type this.
Loud and wrong.
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Love Down the Line: Chapter 10
The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, AO3
~*CS*~
On the road between Oakland and Portland, May 27th
Emma felt the mattress dip slightly behind her. She curled in on herself but there wasn’t much room in the bunks of the bus for her to completely avoid whomever it was. It didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try though, stubbornly keeping her gaze fixed on the wall and not making a peep.
“I’m not going away until you tell me something,” Ruby sighed. She shifted and Emma felt her stretch out next to her, “You can’t avoid it forever. It might help to talk about it.”
“What’s there to say?” She asked dully. “It’s all over the internet.”
From the moment she’d stormed out of the office building she’d been hounded by paparazzi. Her Instagram was full of comments that ran the gamut from cussing her out for kicking Killian off the tour to cussing her out over the leaked, and very edited, audio from her ranting at Walsh. Will had informed her with an impressed grin that she’d been trending on Twitter for two days along with the hashtag MissHighandMighty. The only good thing that had happened was Regina was too busy putting out fires to rail at her in person over what she probably saw as her failings and shortcomings. Instead she’d received and ignored multiple texts that clearly communicated Regina’s increasing frustration with her. She’d blocked Killian’s number completely.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Ruby chided. She paused, “He’s been calling me, asking what happened. I’ve been letting them go to voicemail, mostly because I don’t know if you want me to answer or what really happened actually, but even if I did I wouldn’t say anything. Chicks before dicks and all.”
Emma felt herself smile, her first real one in three days, “Yeah, but that’s how you like it. Dorothy okay with you being out here?”
“Eh-” she could feel Ruby’s shoulders lift behind her in a shrug, “She knew I’d be touring when we first hooked up. We just got a few extra weeks before it actually happened. She wasn’t too happy with the drop everything and catch a red eye to LA part of it all, though. We were about to go on a date, by the way, so thanks for that.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, feeling a bit guilty.
“You can make it up to us later,” Ruby said matter of factly. “Nice attempt at a deflection by the way.”
“Thought I’d try,” she muttered.
“And if I was Tink it might have worked but I’m not so it didn’t. Time to spill.”
She closed her eyes. It was just one of the many moments she’d been dreading since seemingly everything in her life had imploded. In a sort of grim twist of luck it was going to be one of the easier of the conversations she knew needed to happen. With a resigned sigh she opened her eyes and turned onto her back, though she kept her gaze trained on the underside of the bunk above her.
“How much did you know?” She asked, trying and failing to keep the accusation out of her voice. “Did Regina tell you I’d only go for it if you were the one to bring him in? Did he flirt and flatter his way into getting you to agree to helping him re-jumpstart his career through me?”
Ruby let out a harsh burst of air, clearly surprised by her question. She could almost feel the glare aimed at her but kept her eyes focused upward.
“If you really thought that you wouldn’t have made me fly all the way out here to replace him,” Ruby said harshly. Then she sighed, “I didn’t know what plans Regina had for him or his career but I did know that he’d signed with her. It’s why she didn’t put up a fight when I suggested he take my place on the tour. I thought you knew that.”
“No. I clearly didn’t,” she said shortly.
Ruby sighed again, “Okay, but to be fair it also wasn’t this big secret. He was just a substitute guitarist, you even told him that.”
“Yeah, well, he turned out to be more,” Emma muttered, hating the catch in her throat.
“Emma-” Ruby lifted herself up on her elbow and hovered over her, her eyes wide, “Did you fall for him?”
“No. We were just…”
She couldn’t force the words ‘having fun’ off her tongue. Instead she gave a one shoulder shrug, hoping Ruby would get the idea. That Ruby’s first instinct was dead on wasn’t something Emma wanted to dive into.
Ruby narrowed her eyes and studied her before smirking and flopping back down beside her, “Whatever you two were ‘just’ doing it definitely wasn’t ‘just’ fucking.”
Emma couldn’t help twitching at Ruby’s matter of fact statement. She hadn’t known that Ruby was a goddamn psychic. Looking over at her suspiciously she was annoyed to see Ruby looking like a cat that got the canary.
“What did Tink tell you?”
“Oh, it wasn’t Tink,” Ruby said with a sing-song tone, “Will has been complaining non-stop about having to share a room with Tink. Apparently glitter ruins a man’s reputation.”
“He’s with Belle, he shouldn’t be worrying about his reputation,” Emma grumbled. Then she sobered, “He’s not telling everyone about that is he?”
Ruby’s grin faded, “You know he wouldn’t do that.”
“I don’t know what anyone wouldn’t do anymore,” she whispered.
“Emma-” Ruby turned onto her side and grabbed her hand, squeezing it, “I’m on your side, always, but you haven’t even given Killian the chance to explain himself.”
She scoffed, “You haven’t heard what Walsh actually told me. He said that Regina was the one that told him to bring up Killian getting back into music. She had to have planned it all out with Killian at that goddamn lunch, gotten his okay to do it that way. There’s fucking pictures of them shaking on it right before Regina came to the studios.”
That had been the final blow. She had been in line at a grocery store the day after the disastrous interview, waiting to buy emergency Milk Duds and microwave popcorn. Killian had been calling and texting her with increased frequency and she’d ignored them all. Her phone had started buzzing in her hand again and in her fumbling to pull it out of her pocket she’d dropped the Milk Duds. When she’d bent to pick them up her gaze had caught on a tabloid with a blown up picture of Killian, Regina and Robin seated on the patio of a restaurant, the remains of their meal strewn across the table. Killian and Robin had been shaking hands while Regina looked on in satisfaction. Emma had dumped the candy and popcorn into a basket of french bread and fled the store, blocking Killian’s number as she did.
“There’s pictures of them sharing a meal,” Ruby said, being annoyingly pragmatic, “And that was a paparazzi shot, so you don’t know that they were plotting anything.”
“He never told me Regina was going to be there,” she said harshly. “I was almost willing to hear Killian out, eventually. He kept calling and texting and I thought maybe I should give him a chance to explain. Then I saw that fucking picture. I asked him what he was going to do that day and he lied straight to my face. He said he was hanging out with Robin and his son. No mention of Regina or lunch meetings or that he had even started recording again. He’s lied to me at least twice that I know of and I have no idea how many more he’s told me since we met.”
She was breathing heavily and as much as she wanted to yell, scream out her frustrations and heartbreak, she was all too aware of the others on the bus waiting for her to do just that. Tink and Will had been watching her closely for days and while deep down she knew they’d never blab to reporters or post anything on social media they also weren’t the ones she wanted to talk to. Ruby had been her friend the longest and should have been the perfect person to unload on but Emma still felt like a powder keg, ready to explode. With a heavy heart she realized that the one person she wanted to vent to was the one person she wanted absolutely nothing to do with.
“So you’re just going to ignore him? You never want to know what was really going on?” Ruby asked incredulously.
“I can find that out from Regina. She’s underhanded and does things on her own terms but she never lies about it. At least not when you ask her straight up,” she said bitterly.
“And don’t you think Killian would too?”
A week earlier she would have been absolutely sure how she would have answered. Instead she felt as though the rug had been pulled out from beneath her and she’d yet to find her footing.
“I’m just not ready to talk to him yet,” she hedged, knowing Ruby would keep at her like a dog with a bone. “Can we just… not talk about it at all anymore?”
“Okay,” Ruby acquiesced after a small pause where she’d merely looked at her, “but can I ask one more thing?”
Emma rolled her eyes and huffed, “Fine. What?”
“Were you happy?”
Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart clenched in her chest. She thought back to the couple of times that she’d woken up before him, able to look at him without a suggestive wag of his eyebrows or salacious twinkle in his eye. There were the nights they stayed up too late, either on the bus or in their room, talking about everything and nothing. He’d made soundchecks less of a chore as he joked around with Will or teased Tink about the romance novel that was always sitting on top of whatever flat surface was nearest. Then there’d been the moments when she’d look at him only to find him already watching her with a soft smile that she was helpless to return.
The memories only made the sting of his betrayal hurt all the more.
“I really, really was.”
For the first time since her world came crumbling down she let herself cry. She’d held herself together with nothing more than stubborn will and ignoring everything that didn’t have to do with the next show. As she curled into Ruby’s arms with heaving sobs she vaguely realized it might not have been the best strategy.
Slowly, and nearly a whole box of tissues later, Emma regained control of herself. Ruby was still curled around her, gently rubbing her back. She was vaguely aware that at some point Ruby had been whispering to her but she had no idea what she’d been saying. It didn’t matter much, not when just being there meant more to her than anything Ruby could have said.
“I’m sorry,” Emma murmured, her voice wavering and her nose sounding stuffed.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Ruby said, tugging on a lock of her hair, “You’re just lucky this was a tour shirt you ruined with all your snot and tears.”
Emma snorted and pulled back but only got an inch away before Ruby crushed her back to her. She sighed in annoyance even though she hadn’t really wanted to leave the comfort of her embrace.
“You’re going to have to let me go eventually,” she said, even as she relaxed.
“Eh, there’s still a few hours until it’s absolutely necessary,” Ruby said, squeezing her harder.
“What if I have to pee?”
“Babe, you just cried out all of your bodily fluids. If anything you’ll need a Gatorade but I’ll just yell at Will until he brings it to us-” Ruby scoffed. Emma felt her tense slightly before she asked quietly, “Do you want me to block Killian’s number?”
Her knee jerk reaction was to say yes. She felt like she should want to cut Killian out of her life completely. To make him feel even a sliver of the hurt and uncertainty she was feeling. However there was something deep inside her that recoiled from that idea, that despite the hell she was going through she still cared enough about him to want to minimize his pain.
“No,” she sniffled, “He’s your friend too.”
“Not right now he’s not. I mean, I still think you should hear him out but maybe he kinda deserves the cold shoulder for a week or two.”
She shrugged, knowing that Ruby would probably ice Killian out for a month instead. Which, of course, meant that after that she would most likely put all her energy in encouraging him not to give up. Then Ruby would simultaneously be wearing her down to get her to call him. Even thinking about that probable future had her wanting to delete Killian’s number completely, if only to stave off the inevitable.
She fished her phone out from under the tangle of blankets. While she hadn’t turned it off completely she’d put it on silent and had pretty much ignored every text and email notification since the Walsh audio had leaked. Regina had told her she’d take care of it and Emma trusted her just enough to believe that she would.
After unlocking it she was greeted with the continued barrage of messages she’d been expecting. Unable to hold back her frustrated sigh she gave up the pretense of trying to hide what she was doing and pulled out of Ruby’s arms to prop herself up to deal with the never ending tidal wave of texts and emails. She could feel Ruby’s gaze over her shoulder but made no move to hide her screen, even in the best of times it was hard to keep her from snooping.
Scanning through the emails first she was glad to see that most of it was spam. A few were from Mary Margaret or David and she suspected that half the texts would be from them too. There was only one from Regina, though it had been sent at the beginning of the shit hitting the fan telling her to keep a low profile while everything was dealt with. With grim satisfaction she proceeded to delete the spam, glanced over the ones from Mary Margaret and David with a touch of guilt at their concern and her lack of communication with them.
The texts were another matter completely. She had been right in thinking that half were from Mary Margaret and David, reiterations of the support and concern from their emails but a touch more frantic as they progressed. After sending them a quick message that she was alive and would call them once they got to the hotel she grimaced at the ten unread messages from Regina. Having one message go unread from her was bad enough and Emma knew that when she finally responded Regina would probably reach through the phone and rip her heart out.
The first couple were innocuous, more warnings for her to lie low and to ignore whatever reporters might show up at her hotel or the venue. Several were updates on how things weren’t progressing with the fight against Walsh. Then there were the admonishments and disappointment at her continued insistence to keep Killian off the tour. The final text was a directive: Answer your goddamn phone, that had Emma wincing and noticing for the first time the little indicator that she had voicemails to listen to. Throwing Ruby a worried glance she tapped on the icon and prepared for the worst.
You have six new voice messages. To listen to your messages press one-
Message one:
“It doesn’t look like we’ll need to take legal action but be prepared for the possibility that we will. We also need to discuss the Jones fiasco.”
End of message. To erase this message press seven. To listen to your messages press one-
Message two:
“I don’t appreciate having to leave another voicemail along with the unanswered texts. Walsh has agreed to issue an apology and his employer is sending him on an unpaid leave of absence for a month. I would have preferred a firing but they will be generously donating to a charity of your choice and will be giving you final say in your future interviewers if we ever decide to return. We still need to discuss the Jones fiasco.”
End of message. To erase this message press seven. To listen to your messages press one-
Message three:
“Reviews for last night’s show could have been better. This wouldn’t have been an issue if Ms. Lucas had more than twenty-four hours notice to begin rehearsing. I am still waiting to hear what happened with Jones.”
End of message. To erase this message press seven. To listen to your messages press one-
Message four:
“Emma, sweetheart, I just want you to know that David and I both love you very much and we’re here for you. Call either of us back when you can.”
End of message. To erase this message press seven. To listen to your messages press one-
Message five:
“I am beginning to lose my patience with you, Miss Swan. You are not my only client and neither is Mr. Jones. I cannot do my job if you do not answer your phone.”
End of message. To erase this message press seven. To listen to your messages press one-
Message six:
“I will be flying up to Portland to discuss matters with you in person.”
End of message. To erase this message press-
Emma hung up and dropped her hand to her lap. She was screwed. Regina was a nightmare to deal with when she was irritated but still in a forgiving mood. In the last message she had sounded beyond pissed and was likely to be even more so by the time they were in the same room together. Especially since she had told her that she wasn’t intending to rejoin the tour until the final show in Vancouver.
“From the look on your face you probably didn’t hear any good news,” Ruby said cautiously.
“Sorta,” she murmured, “Walsh is going to publicly apologize but he’s really only getting a slap on the wrist as punishment.”
“Asshole,” Ruby snarled.
Humming her agreement she turned her phone over and over in her hands. She contemplated calling Regina to try and get some of the yelling that was bound to happen over with. The only problem was if Regina was meeting them in Portland then she was most likely on a flight and wouldn’t be able to answer her phone. There was no way she was going to play phone tag and end up pissing her off even more than she already was.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Ruby was watching her with narrowed eyes. “Is it Killian?”
“Blocked his number, remember?” She sighed tiredly. “I’m pretty sure Regina’s going to murder me when we get to Portland.”
“Regina’s going to be in Portland? I thought her royal ass wasn’t going to be around until Vancouver.”
“Well, looks like I’ve made her mad enough to change her plans.”
“Shit,” Ruby breathed, “Sucks to be you.”
She huffed out a half-amused laugh, “Thanks.”
“Welcome,” she chirped, gleefully. “So, you’ve got at least a few more hours left to live. Wanna see how much money we can take Will for?”
“Blackjack or Hold-Em?” She asked, already crawling over her to get out of the bunk.
“Hold-Em,” Ruby said with a devious grin, following her, “He has the most obvious tell I’ve ever seen. Someone should really tell him.”
A few hours, a couple of hundred miles and one pissed off Will Scarlet later the bus pulled up to their hotel in Portland. For the most part Emma was able to keep her mind off of everything that had been dragging her down. It helped that her focus had to stay on her cards while ensuring that Will’s boasting morphed into irritated grumbling until he’d finally thrown down his final hand in disgust and stomped off to his bunk a few more dollars poorer.
As she tallied up her half of the take she warily eyed the front entrance of the hotel. She’d almost convinced herself that Regina would have been waiting for her, pacing like a caged tiger, ready to strike. Instead she found herself looking at a couple of bored valet attendants and a few of the other guests entering and leaving, some slowing to gape at the bus as it came to a stop. To her great relief there were no reporters or paparazzi in sight, unlike their hotel in Oakland.
“I’ll let the front desk know we’re here,” Tink volunteered, popping out of her bunk like a jack in the box.
Before Emma could thank her she had already skipped down the stairs and was making her way into the hotel. Shaking her head at Tink’s boundless energy she stood herself, stretching out her road weary muscles. Just as she was about to move to gather up her stuff to take up to the room she caught sight of Regina striding out of the hotel’s entrance. The furious look on her face made Emma’s stomach drop to her toes.
“Uh, you guys should go,” she called out, keeping her eyes on the advancing Regina.
“You already drained me dry and now you’re makin’ demands? I’ll go when I’m good and ready,” Will scoffed, his voice muted.
She felt Ruby come up behind her, “I’ll just wait for- oh. Will, let’s go!”
“What the bleedin’ hell for?” He growled, she heard him drop from his bunk and stomp towards them, “It’ll take Tink at least twenty minutes to get everythin’ all sorted out and since I’m bunkin’ with the crew, thanks to you and that wanker havin’ a row-”
“If your accommodations aren’t to your liking Mr. Scarlet-” Regina said icily as she ascended the stairs into the bus, “I can arrange for something more suitable, a Triple A recommended motel perhaps?”
Looking over at Will she saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard before grinning cheekily, “Ah, won’t be necessary, luv, seein’ as motels never have a decent bar. Shall we, Red?”
Ruby looked torn. Emma nodded, giving her the okay to leave even though she desperately wanted her to stay. Unfortunately she knew that Regina would lay into her no matter who was there to witness it. Regina had already made it clear that she was annoyed that Ruby had replaced Killian. If Ruby stuck around she’d most likely fight on Emma’s behalf and get sent back to Maine for her trouble. The last thing she wanted was to give Regina the opportunity to bring Killian back on.
Will had already left the bus and Ruby followed reluctantly, her gaze narrowed at Regina’s back until she disappeared out the door. Steeling herself Emma waited for the oncoming tirade.
“Have a seat Miss Swan,” Regina said icily, brushing past her and sitting down at the bus’ small table.
“A please would be nice,” she muttered, low enough to not be heard while doing as she was told.
Regina watched her silently. Emma fought against the urge to fidget, feeling a lot like she was an unruly student about to be reprimanded by the principal.
“Mr. Hoakley’s apology has been released-” Regina began without preamble, “His producer and the company have also issued their statements. Unfortunately, the edited audio is still being circulated despite the original recording and a transcript being released and you’re still trending negatively on Twitter. We haven’t seen any major drop in overall sales or requests for ticket refunds but there has been a dip. Enough of one that the label is insisting that you release a statement of your own.”
“What? I-”
“I am talking Miss Swan, you will only listen,” Regina said sharply. She paused, clearly waiting for her to try and argue. When she didn’t she continued, “I have already written the response which will be posted to your Instagram today along with a photo from the tour. You will also be doing a live session tomorrow morning to answer fan questions. The questions will be chosen and looked over beforehand to prevent any more mishaps. If everything goes well we should see a solid bounce back by the time we reach Vancouver.
“Now, concerning Mr. Jones-”
“I could have kicked him off the tour at any time, we put it in the fucking contract,” she said hotly, annoyed at having been dressed down and feeling defensive over the decision she still wasn’t sure about.
Regina’s brown eyes flashed, “Yes, which saved you from being dropped from the label entirely.”
“Wh-” Emma could feel the blood draining from her face, “What?”
“Despite what you may think you are not as indispensable to them as to take the liberties you already have. The fiasco with Mr. Hoakley was bad enough and while you were in the right the label saw your combativeness as a strike against you. Dropping Mr. Jones from the tour at the same time was a misstep that jeopardized both your careers. Yours more so than his.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? How is that fair?” She asked in disbelief, feeling irate heat crawling up her neck.
“It isn’t, but that’s how this industry works, Miss Swan,” Regina said flatly. “Mr. Jones is an established artist with a built in fan base and therefore guaranteed record sales. His past troubles are well documented and any misstep he could make wouldn’t come as a surprise even with his turnaround and the years spent in reclusivity. You, on the other hand, have only begun to bring in returns on the investments the label has made. Having Mr. Jones on the tour was his tacit endorsement of you and could have drawn a new demographic of listeners to your music. Instead you’ve made it appear as though you were doing him some great favor instead of the other way around.”
“I don’t need his or anyone’s help,” she growled. “I’ve already made it this far on my own.”
“You made it to open mic nights and small bookings at bars on your own. A world you are closer to returning to than you think,” Regina warned. “I suggest addressing how thankful you are that the label has been supporting you during this time. It’ll be a step towards getting back in their good graces.”
“This is ridiculous-” she threw up her arms in frustration, “I did nothing wrong and I’m getting punished for it.”
“Again, this is how things work and you are not the only one being reprimanded for your behavior,” Regina snapped.
She frowned, “What do you mean?”
“I have been in meetings and taking phone calls for the past three days fighting on solely your behalf-” for the first time Regina seemed to soften, a wry twist to her lips. “There is nothing worse than trying to convince a group of old, out of touch, decidedly male record executives to consider for a moment what a young woman in the industry has to deal with on a daily basis. Let alone trying to explain the capriciousness of social media trends. Regardless what you may think, I am on your side Emma.”
“Wait, I’m confused-” she sat back, crossing her arms over her chest, “You just spent the last fifteen minutes chewing me out.”
“And you spent the last three days ignoring my calls-” Regina said pointedly. “If you’d actually answered any of them I might have been more patient in explaining everything to you.”
“So if I’d answered you would have been less of a bitch?” She asked sardonically.
Regina pursed her lips and glared at her, “Seeing as I’m the one currently keeping your ass out of the fire I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“So, I post my statement and do an awkward live thingy to get things back on track,” she said in lieu of apologizing. There was no way in hell she was going to give Regina the satisfaction. “Anything else?”
“We still need to discuss what happened with Jones,” Regina said with a raised eyebrow, folding her hands together on the table.
“Jesus,” she muttered under her breath. Dropping her head back she sighed, “Do we really or can we pretend we did and go get drunk at the bar instead?”
There was a pregnant pause before Emma heard Regina shifting in her seat, as though she were uncomfortable. Curious she swung her head back down and was surprised to see an almost concerned look on Regina’s face. She must have let her confusion show because Regina rolled her eyes.
“We may not exactly be friends, Emma, but I do have your best interests at heart. What happened with Jones the day of the interview? You were eager to be done with the day and back with him as soon as possible, then a few hours later you dropped him from the tour and cut off all communication. As your manager I need to know if there’s going to be any issues in the future that can be quietly dealt with now-” the concerned look returned, “As someone who worries about you I want to know that he hasn’t done anything to hurt you.”
Emma burst into laughter, unable to help herself. She should have known that Regina would have no clue why she’d practically fallen apart. In Regina’s mind she was merely doing her job of getting her clients’ careers to the next level. It wouldn’t have occurred to her that she might have been the reason for it all going to shit.
Catching sight of Regina’s bewildered stare threw Emma into a fresh gale of laughter. As tears of mirth streamed down her face she fought to catch her breath and wondered almost idly if she’d finally lost her damn mind. Several minutes passed before she was finally able to get ahold of herself and look Regina in the eye.
“Are you quite finished?” Regina asked, clearly exasperated. At her nod she leaned forward, “Now, will you please tell me what it is I said that had you laughing like a madwoman?”
“Do you worry about me or my career?” She said instead of answering, quirking her lips in a wry smile. Regina’s brows drew down in consternation and Emma sighed, knowing they were only heading towards a fight, “Killian didn’t do anything. He got what he wanted out of touring with me so it was time for him to go. End of story.”
“That sounds more like the middle of the story-” Regina leaned forward, “Explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain,” she sighed, completely over the conversation. “Being on tour got him back in the saddle or taking that first giant leap or whatever. He’s working on new, amazing stuff with the hit-maker Robin Locksley, which is what you want from a new client. Right? So I let him go and we’re both moving onto bigger and better things. Everyone’s a winner. Can I please go get a drink now?”
Regina had slowly straightened in her seat during her small tirade. She was sitting rigidly, looking at her with an unreadable expression. After a moment she shook her head, Emma somehow felt it was in disappointment, and stood from the table.
“I’ll send you the statement to post and options for the photo to go along with it. The live Q and A needs to happen before nine tomorrow morning, I will be sending along the pre-approved questions as well. Stick to those and hopefully you’ll come out of this relatively unscathed.”
Emma stared up at her, almost annoyed she hadn’t pushed the Killian issue further, “Okay…”
“Have a good evening, Miss Swan.” With that Regina strode off. Emma watched her go, flabbergasted by the abrupt departure when Regina stopped at the top of the stairs leading off the bus and turned back, “Just so you know, Mr. Jones is refusing to do any work on the album the label has him on contract for. Mr. Locksley, a close, personal friend of his I believe, is having difficulties convincing him to even pretend to work on it to appease the label. He is perilously close to being in breach of contract with them and is refusing to answer my calls as I try to salvage what’s left of his career. But everyone's a winner, right?”
Regina didn’t wait for her to answer, stepping down off the bus without any further acknowledgement. Emma sat there with a growing sense of unease, staring blankly at the spot that Regina had been standing. The part of her that hadn’t wanted to see Killian in pain was trying to twist Regina’s words into lies, make everything she’d said another ploy to boost sales or something, anything to keep her mind clear of the idea that Killian was sabotaging himself for her. Yet the longer she sat there the more her unease grew, knowing that what Regina had said was exactly something that Killian would do.
Antsy she got up from the table and paced between it and her bunk. She no longer wanted a drink, just the thought of drowning her sorrows and problems had her remembering Killian’s hard fought for sobriety to face his own issues head on. With each pass she made in the small space she teetered back and forth between believing Regina and vilifying her, both of which would have her making decisions she wasn’t ready to make.
Groaning in frustration she dove into her bunk, wanting nothing more than to hide away there and hope that everything would just fix itself. Her self pitying was interrupted by a phone buzzing at her hip. Reaching underneath her she pulled it out, expecting to see her old, battered but still functional phone and instead found her fingers wrapped around Ruby’s practically new iPhone in its protective red case. Surprised that she’d left it behind Emma flipped the phone over to see who was calling. When she saw Killian’s name on the screen she nearly threw it across the bus.
She eyed the still buzzing phone like it was a snake about to strike. There were a million reasons for her to ignore it, to let it go to voicemail and have Ruby give her the gist of the message. There was only one reason for her to answer and it was that that had her swiping up and pressing the phone to her ear before she could think better of it.
“Thank god,” Killian sighed in relief, the sound shooting straight to Emma’s heart, “Ruby, lass, I don’t know what’s going on and I won’t ask but please, just tell me that Emma’s alright. I’ll stop calling, anything, I just... please, I just need to know.”
Her breath had backed up in her throat at the plea in Killian’s voice. He also sounded exhausted, his accent dragging across the words much like they had when they’d stayed up too late, nose to nose talking the night away. The memory had her breath hiccuping out of her in a half sob.
“What’s wrong? Is it Emma? Ruby, is she okay?”
His panicked questions had her biting her cheek to get a hold of herself. She closed her eyes and gripped the phone as though her life depended on it.
“I’m okay, Killian.”
“Swan?” He breathed and she could hear his unfolding hope in the single word, “Love, is that you?”
“It’s me,” she whispered.
“Swan, Emma, I…” he huffed in either frustration or disbelief she wasn’t sure, “Dammit, love, I had so many things I wanted to say and now I can’t think of a single thing.”
She took in a shuddering breath, “Just tell me why.”
“Why? Why what?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that you were trying to get your big comeback? That’s all this was, wasn’t it? You could have just told me that. You didn’t have to lie to me,” she had tried to keep her tone even, unaffected, but had ended on a growl nonetheless.
“I never lied,” he said vehemently. She scoffed and he made a strangled noise, “Emma, listen to me, when have I lied? Yes, I admit, being on the tour may have begun as a stepping off point but it became more than that. We became more than that.”
“A lie by omission is still a lie, Killian,” she said emphatically. She couldn’t focus on how heartfelt he’d sounded when talking about them, not when he’d also confirmed everything she’d been worrying about. “It’s not like it matters anyway, you got what you want. Your name’s back out there, people are interested. Congrats on the record contract by the way.”
“None of that bloody matters to me,” he snapped. “If you’d just listen-”
“No,” she said, cutting him off, “You had your chance to explain when you first auditioned.”
“Emma-” his voice cracked, “please.”
“I- I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you-” her voice wavered, tears lodged in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
She cut off the call but not before she heard him say her name once more. The phone immediately began buzzing in her hand but she swiped to ignore the call, quickly shutting off the phone completely to resist the temptation to answer. She then curled into a ball and gave into her tears.
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