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tj-dragonblade · 1 year

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[Fic] Use Your Words

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Morpheus) Rated: T Word Count: ~2500 Warnings: Mistletoe Notes: My first foray into this fandom. Be gentle; I may not have them quite right. It's been four years since last I wrote anything and I'm a bit rusty. Many thanks to @virgo-dream for the beta!

Summary: Hob finds mistletoe hung in the bar. Dream is. Insistent. That they adhere to tradition.

On AO3

~~~***~~~ "Now where did that come from?"

'That' was a bright sprig of dark green leaves and waxy white berries, hanging innocently from a random low beam near the end of the bar, and Hob was very sure that he hadn't hung it there. Mistletoe was all well and good among friends and holiday parties and such, but putting it up in the pub where random strangers might happen beneath it in the middle of the afternoon, not so much. Bit of unneeded potential for harassment and Hob wasn't keen to invite that sort of trouble. He'd have to take it down post-haste and make sure his staff knew not to re-hang it.

Beside him, Dream blinked up at the little plant. "Mistletoe," he pronounced, in precisely the overly-casual tone of discovery one might use to imply one had just noticed something one had in fact already been aware of. "We. Would seem to be standing beneath it."

Hob frowned and peered up at the little sprig, which they were indeed now directly under when he was quite certain they hadn't been a moment ago. "…So we are." Which. Huh.

And didn't that set his nerves afire, just a little bit.

"We are meant to share a kiss, then, I believe?" Dream was staring at him now, intent and direct, the bare tilt of a question in his eyebrows.

And that set Hob's pulse racing, quite definitely, no 'little bit' about it.

"You know the tradition, then?" he hedged, mouth gone suddenly dry.

Dream favored him with a look that could have withered the greenery above them, and yes, right. Prince of Stories, entirety-of-the-collective-unconscious, all that. Holiday traditions surely fell within that purview.

Hob swallowed, nerves still singing a gloriously freaked-out tune over the drumbeat of his racing heart. Surely Dream was not expecting—

Dream was still looking at him, expectantly.

And it's not like Hob had any objections, of course! Not like he hadn't thought about the possibility of kissing Dream dozens of times, hundreds even—thousands perhaps, who was counting—but he'd never expected that Dream would suggest it first, under any circumstances, that it would ever be anything Dream could possibly want.

Was he reading things right?

He didn't think he was reading them wrong, but...well. Sure it'd been a hundred and thirty-odd years and there was certainly an openness to Dream these days that hadn't been there then, but "You DARE??" still haunted Hob on many levels and he'd rather not earn himself an encore. Especially not over a frivolous holiday tradition.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, aware of the heat in his face. "Okay but don't feel like you have to; there's no obligation." He glanced away, fiddled self-consciously with his earlobe. "I mean, it's just a silly tradition, not as if there's mistletoe police lurking about…"

Hob's dismissive rambling trailed off unconvincingly and Dream tilted his head a little, eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

"I would honor this tradition, Hob. Unless. Are you opposed?"

"Oh no! Not opposed, no." God, no, couldn't have him thinking that. "In that case then, ah, let me just—okay—" He leaned over and brushed a quick peck against the corner of Dream's mouth, quick enough to avoid the temptation of more, but not quick enough to avoid feeling the cool smoothness of Dream's skin beneath his lips in a way that would surely keep him awake long hours tonight.

Desperately trying to school his expression to 'normal' versus 'hopelessly besotted and dying to do that properly except I'm afraid of driving you off for another hundred years', Hob dared a glance at Dream's face. Which was…impassive as ever, with a hint of not-what-I-expected lurking in the downward tick of his mouth.

Wrangling his nerves, Hob flashed a grin and glanced up. "Can't forget to pick a berry, now, else people'll be stuck kissing under this forever—" What a completely inane thing to say, but he couldn't seem to quite get a handle on his tongue. At least none of the bar patrons were paying them any mind; they may as well have been alone for the lack of attention they were drawing.

The berry vanished from his grasp as soon as he'd plucked it, dissipated into nothingness, but that was to be expected, perfectly normal, right? He glanced at Dream to confirm and instead found himself watching transfixed as Dream reached up, pale, slender fingers caressing a waxy white berry of nearly the same shade, and Hob's fool mouth just kept running. "We don't both have to pick one, it's only, y'know, one berry one kiss—"

"I am aware." Dream cut him off and then, quite deliberately, pulled the little berry free of its stem. "But, as I wish to receive another kiss…" He was staring at Hob expectantly again.

Oh.

Still off-kilter, still not sure quite how this was actually happening but also still possessed of enough faculties to not question his good fortune just yet, Hob leaned in and pressed his lips softly to Dream's, full-on this time, lingering just a little. Dream tilted into it, moved his own lips in complement—and oh. Again. Hob shivered, a thrill of delight running effervescent down his spine, goosebumps blooming all along his arms.

He pulled back before he could let himself get lost in it, because getting lost in it would be so easy yet terribly unwise.

"Dream?" Now apparently was the moment to question, his mouth decided, to suss out what his (very dear) friend intended because surely, surely this couldn't be as straightforward as it was trying to appear?

But Dream was regarding him with something approaching consternation, mouth flat and eyes disbelieving; he reached up to pluck another berry, swift and precise, flicking it away to dissolve into thin air as he spoke. "Hob Gadling." He plucked another, and another, punctuating his next words sharply. "I would—" pluck "—have you—" pluck "—kiss me—" pluck "—properly."

Okay. However they'd gotten here, that was clear enough, and Hob wasn't waiting to be told again.

Dream met him halfway this time, fingertips lighting on his face to guide him properly-as-requested to Dream's mouth and Hob just went with it, tossed aside dozens of decades of caution and restraint and finally kissed Dream like he meant it. Dream made a tiny little sound, high and soft like a wish at long last granted and that was it. Hob threw his arms around Dream's skinny frame and Dream's hands tangled eagerly into his hair and they were kissing, kissing, kissing like they couldn't get enough and never mind the public setting.

Hob couldn't hear whether or not they were getting catcalls or wolf whistles, not over the thunder of his own pulse in his ears, and he couldn't have cared anyway because Dream was clinging to the curve of his skull, was kissing like he meant to devour him and Hob was one hundred percent down for it. He pressed himself flush against Dream, arms wrapped tight around him, feasting on Dream's ravenous intensity as the kissing went on and on.

Dream pushed forward and Hob followed his prompting, let Dream guide him one step back, two, and then they fetched up against the bar, the edge of the counter digging into Hob's spine. "Hob," Dream murmured, right against his lips, and Hob shivered at the way his name sounded in that voice at this moment. Dream was kissing down the line of his jaw now and Hob sighed, tilted his head up to offer his throat as well.

"God, is this really happening?" Running his mouth was going to be a continuing theme, apparently. "D'you have any idea how long I've dreamed about you, like this?"

Dream tucked his face into the arch of Hob's neck, breath soft against the skin there before he kissed, grazed it with sharp teeth. "Have you any idea, how long I have wished to do such things with you?"

"I—wait, no. Really?" Hob pulled back to look at him, but was caught instead by the silence of the pub around them. Was everyone staring; had they made that much of a scene?

No, as it turned out, because when Hob actually looked, he found that all the patrons had vanished and the pub itself was sort of washed over like watercolor, barely-there around the edges, an unfinished painting. Only the two of them and the beam hanging the mistletoe above them were in focus and fully rendered.

"Oh no, this is only—I'm dreaming, aren't I." He kissed Dream again anyway, absolutely crestfallen, remembering vanishing mistletoe berries and other unheeded anomalies that suddenly made sense. "You aren't even—this isn't real, is it, just my imagination. Again."

"I have told you, Hob, the Dreaming is as 'real' as the waking world."

"To you, I'm sure," Hob lamented, kissing him mournfully, speaking against his mouth, drawing the words across his cheek. "But are you actually here? Am I even going to remember this when I wake up?"

Dream paused at that, stepped back—stepped out of Hob's arms—and Hob ached at the sudden loss. Then, with an expression somehow equal parts annoyance, arousal, and apology, Dream reached up and pulled down the entire mistletoe sprig from overhead, made a quick horizontal gesture with his other hand. "This dream is over."

Hob startled awake, sprawled into the corner of his couch, disoriented for half a second at the abrupt change and scrambling madly to sit upright, to hold onto the threads of the dream. Because Dream had been in it, had all but demanded his kisses—and if he'd really been there—

His head jerked up toward a sudden shifting of displaced air across the room. Dream stepped into existence in a soft swirl of sand and stalked toward him, dropping the mistletoe sprig on the coffee table, swinging himself down to straddle Hob's lap with his knees snug against either hip. He pushed Hob back into the couch, looming over him in a way that had every bit of Hob paying very rapt attention.

Dream's hands smoothed over Hob's shoulders, as if to gentle a high-strung animal; ironic, that was, when Dream himself was held taut as a bowstring, so tense he was trembling with it.

Hob barely managed an almost-steady tone. "Not just a dream, then?"

Dream's eyes were boring into his with intensity, gone dark and starry. "Be assured, Hob. I would have this in the Waking as well as in the Dreaming. I would not have you…doubt, my affections—"

"Oh good," Hob croaked, and then both hands were buried in Dream's hair, mouth open and angling for Dream's, and Dream collapsed against him, melted into the kiss with a soft sound of relief that sent Hob absolutely soaring.

It was several moments before they drew apart, Dream's hands carding through Hob's hair now and Hob's at Dream's hips, keeping him settled close. Dream rested his forehead against Hob's, eyes fluttering shut, fingertips stroking gently against Hob's scalp. Hob shivered at the sensual touch, fragments of their dream encounter resurfacing while he caught his breath.

"How long, then?" He slid one hand gently up Dream's spine and back down.

"Long enough." Dream kissed him again, soft and eager. "Too long."

"You never said anything."

"Nor did you."

Hob slipped both arms around Dream's waist, underneath the galaxy-lined coat, giddy that he was allowed. "You were—I didn't think—clearly I'm an idiot, because here we are, but I couldn't imagine you taking kindly to my interest."

Dream drew back enough to study him, considering his words carefully. "I…would not have taken it kindly, before, no matter my own feelings. You are correct."

"But now?"

Dream kissed him again, fierce and insistent and sincere, a long moment of poured feeling before reining it in. "Much has happened, to alter my perspective." His lips brushed Hob's as he spoke and bloody hell but it was difficult for Hob to hold back when the promise of kissing him again was right there. He managed, though, because Dream wasn't done yet and Hob was desperately interested in what he had to say, actually.

Dream put a little more distance between their faces, held his gaze now, fingers still laced into his hair. "Hob. I would. Give you candor. I would have you know, the value I place on your friendship. I would express my regard for you in every way you will accept it."

"In any way. Every way. I'm yours. However you'll have me, whatever you'll allow." Hob was reasonably successful, he felt, at corralling his mental babbling into coherent speech. "I'm yours, Dream. I'm yours."

Affections. Regard. Bloody brilliant. He felt the radiant smile splitting his face and let it happen.

Dream kissed it as it blossomed, reverently, and Hob's heart ascended.

"I should like to kiss you more often, Hob Gadling," Dream declared then. "It is every bit the delight I had hoped it to be."

Hob was never coming back down to earth, was he. "Y'know, if you'd led with that and your pretty little speech instead of bleeding mistletoe, I would have been kissing you sooner?"

"It was meant to be…spontaneous, and whimsical." Both things that Dream was decidedly not, generally speaking, but Hob held his tongue. "The dreamers are currently…awash, in their various holidays and accompanying traditions. This tradition, in this season, seemed an opportune means to express my intentions."

'Intentions'. Wasn't that just a fine old-fashioned way of saying it.

Hob grinned wider, trying (and mostly failing, but trying, dammit) to keep the giddiness under control. "So…what you're saying is, you're my Christmas present?" It was a terrible joke. He couldn't help it.

Dream gave him a look halfway between askance and consideration. "…If you wish to view it as such, then…very well. I am your Christmas present."

Delighted, joyful, Hob leaned up and kissed him, because he could.

Dream straightened up a moment later, regal as anything never mind that he was still perched astride Hob's lap, and his well-kissed expression shifted into something mildly imperious. "It is customary to unwrap one's gifts when presented with them, is it not?"

Hob's brain stuttered, ground to a shuddering halt, full record-scratch Hob-dot-exe-has-stopped-working blue screen. Dream had allowed his terrible joke to stand, that was remarkable enough, but now he'd gone and turned it around and lobbed it back? Embellished it with innuendo, of all the impossible—?

He stared up at Dream, wide-eyed and tongue-tied. "Um."

Was he. Did he mean it?

Dream gave him a mildly unimpressed look, with a little curl of smugness underneath; he leaned back in, pressed himself close, grazed his rose petal lips across the shell of Hob's ear. The softest of sighs ghosted after, and then his voice, warm and dark and rich as velvet.

"Unwrap your present, Hob. That you may. Open it, properly."

Hob-dot-exe restarted with gusto; he didn't need to be told a third time.

All in all, it was a very merry Christmas indeed.

===== Started: 12/8/22

Drafted: 12/23/22

Posted: 12/25/22

#Dreamling #The Sandman #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #TJs Fics #it's 4:30pm Christmas here as I post this #still timely go me #Sandman

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corazondebeskar-reads · 5 months

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well it's love, make it hurt - chapter sixteen

well it's love, make it hurt series

sixteen: whoever I was then, I can't ever be again

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: You and Din have a serious conversation, kick some ass, and make some decisions.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, feelings, hint of d/s dynamics, they're workin' on it y'all, dry humping, thigh riding, groping, more about the Name Reveal, communication

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

9 ABY - Fall

Mando’s lead turns out to be at an incredibly shady fight club. Or, you suppose you should say Din’s lead. Which you’re still reeling from but have entered an apparent silent agreement not to mention again.

So what? He wanted you to know his name. It wasn’t a big deal, except how it made you want to burst into hysterics.

Years later, and he gives you his name like it’s not the most world-shattering thing. It’s fine, you can roll with it, you can pretend it’s fine. You avoid addressing him entirely to solve the issue. If you don’t try to say “Mando,” then you don’t have to try to fill it in with “Din.”

As you’re making this decision, you’re sitting beside him about two feet from the dueling Gammoreans. The whole thing is distasteful, even coming from someone who (sometimes) kills people for a living. They aren’t even really given a good opportunity to fight. The ring is small, and the weapons are unwieldy.

Mando’s—dank farrik—Din’s gloved hand brushes against the outside of your thigh as it drops to his side, and you immediately tune in to the conversation he’s having with Koresh. The instincts have lain dormant for five years, but prickle back in with no trouble. He wouldn’t accidentally touch you, and he certainly wasn’t trying anything right then. No, it was a signal.

Tense words about beskar pass between the men, and you pretend to watch the fight, ready to move as soon as the talk turns nasty.

You don’t have to wait long.

It’s distressingly beautiful. You had become better fighters in your time apart, but you fell back into each other’s rhythm like an old leather jacket. You’re innately aware of where the other will be and how you should act in accordance, and it’s nothing to take down the group.

It was the very thing you had spent the last thirty hours trying to avoid.

Being back on the Crest, even with the addition of the baby, was like haunting your dreams. The carved-out feeling of watching yourself make the same steps, touch the same controls, sit in the same seat. You refused to take the simple path—refused to reoccupy that body, that place, that time. It would have been so easy to rise in the morning and make him a cup of caf. To climb onto his lap in the cockpit. To settle back into the places your body knew you fit. Now that you had let it happen, let yourself fall back into sync with him? You weren’t sure how to stop it.

The buzz of your brain failed to quiet on the way back to the ship. Now, in the aftermath, the adrenaline high, you’re sweating, your body pulsing, and skin too tight. Your fingertips throb in time with your clit. His shoulders rise and fall with the effort of his breathing. You’re not sure when he got so close, but there’s barely an inch between you. If you took a deep breath, your breasts would brush up against his chest plate.

The tension is rich, sitting on your tongue like chocolate-covered berries. Your breathing is shallow, and his so deep. He’s coiled tight, but you don’t feel like prey. He’s waiting, you know. Waiting for you to move.

For the first time, you wish the helmet wasn’t there. You want to lunge at him and press your lips against his. To cleave and indulge in him as a delicacy, to dig your fingers in and pry him open until you can tear your atonement from his sinew.

But more than that, it’s the way five years have disappeared in the last hour. There’s none of the hurt, the distance, the grief. It’s just you and him, same as it ever was. Wound up after a fight, every molecule screaming for the other. Aching.

In the end, you both move. Somehow seamless, frequencies synching the way your chrono was still programmed into his ship. Something coded deep, something that would have to be intentionally removed from your bodies in order to forget the way you yearned, the way you knew the other would come apart.

Your hands are on his waist; his are pressing you against the wall of the hull, roaming, groping, claiming. When he hears your impatient whines, he rips his gloves off and slides his hands under your shirt, digging in like he might hold you there by sheer force.

He doesn’t have to. You aren’t going anywhere.

Your eyes are a little glazed, a little unfocused, as he grabs at whatever handfuls of flesh he can, his searing heat against yours. He moans when he cups your breasts, and your fingers tighten in his flightsuit. The pads of his fingers and palms are dry, and their gentle grit against your softness makes you feel alive.

He’s gentle, exploring to see if you still twitch and moan at the same motions, if you have any new sounds he can pry from you.

You do. He rubs both nipples with his thumbs, and you moan, burying your face in his cowl, and softly cry his name. His real one.

“Din, please,” you whimper. He jerks a little, grasping onto you and trying not to cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. His name has never sounded so sweet.

You hadn’t said it before. Not that night when he told you, not any of the minutes in between.

When Gideon spoke his name in front of the crowd of his allies and enemies, it was a jagged saw into his ribcage, splitting him open like a butterfly. His secrets spilling from his chest.

But the worst part was the injustice of it all.

It should have been you.

He had almost told you so many times over that last month. Wanted to hear it spill from your lips when you came, wanted to hear it whispered as you fell asleep, wanted to hear it when you playfully chastised him over a quip.

You asked why, of course, why now? He could see the walls going up, the way you were pulling back, arms folding across your chest. A silent accusation thrown onto the table between you, a conscious effort to fight against the instinct to trust him.

So he told you. Everything. The fury at Gideon stealing that from him, not just his privacy, but the gift of it. The way it was always supposed to be you, you first, only you. Yours. His to give you, yours to take. To keep. To know in your heart. How no matter what happened next, it had been yours to have all along.

You wanted to strike out, to sink teeth into where he was bleeding himself out for you. To stoke the long-simmering anger that had never left you, that had helped you survive the last five years. But when you opened your mouth, it was gone. It slipped out on a sigh, a heavy, weary thing that spread through you from shoulder to knee. You slumped back against the wall, looking anywhere but him.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Again,” he growls, grabbing at your shirt from the inside and yanking it over your head. He slides a leg between yours to better ensnare you. You fall into the trap unconsciously, grinding against his thigh.

It wasn’t enough. “Din, please,” you beg again and arch back, eager to give him access to anything he wishes.

He’s captivated in turn by the cries and whimpers he extracts as he pinches and caresses, one hand sliding down to the apex where your cunt meets his leg and rubbing softly, never sliding close enough, just dangling the pleasure in front of you like an eopie chasing a carrot.

You return the favor with a desperate, sweaty palm against the bulge in his flightsuit, moaning deep when you cup the weight of him. Your memory had not done him justice, your fingers unable to replicate the heft and girth of him.

He bucks against you when you squeeze gently, and his hand slides up to wrap around your throat.

“Please, Din,” you cry, “please, I’m sorry, please.”

He stops, hands falling to his sides, shifting his weight onto the other foot to put a little distance between you.

“What are you doing?”

“Please, you were right. I want to hurt. I want you to hurt me until it stops hurting.”

“That’s not… I can’t do that. That’s not right.”

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t be rational right now.”

“I have to.” He walks himself through a few deep breaths. You’re looking at him so sorrowfully, tears welling up, and he wants to give you everything.

“Please.” Your voice is steadier now. “It hurts so bad,” your fingers clutch at your chest, pressing a fist into the valley of your clavicle.

He closes his eyes, the phantom pain echoing in his body. “I can’t give you absolution when there’s nothing to be forgiven, ner kar’ta,” he says.

“I left,” you say, barely audible over the rumble of the engines.

“Yes,” he says. “So did I.”

You flounder for the right thing to say, but you can tell the discussion is over. An indignant flame flickers in your gut, but it’s washed away in the wave of exhaustion that crashes over you. “I can’t have this conversation half naked,” you settle on.

He laughs, half of a chuckle swept from him in relief. He gives you back your shirt, and you sink onto the crate sofa.

“It’s not just me, right?” you mumble to your hands where they rest in your lap. “That feels like a ghost and a person, split in two.”

“No,” he sits next to you. He lets the silence sit for a moment. “You know, it doesn’t make you weak. That you grieved. No matter what we were to each other then.”

You’re startled by the subject, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About it being stupid to have grieved when we weren’t together. But I grieved you, too, in a way.”

You frown but say nothing. His words circulate in your head, jostling up some of your own, but all seem inadequate. “I’m sorry,” you finally settle on. “I’m sorry I ran away.”

“Which time? In the market?” he teases.

A corner of your lips twitches up against your will. “Nah, not sorry for that one.”

“I told you, I understand why you left,” his voice is soft. He shifts a little, a bare hand settling on the cushion between you.

You take a deep breath and ignore the invitation. “No. I’m sorry for the first time. When I stayed behind. I was afraid.”

“You don’t have to apologize for doing what you thought was best for yourself.”

You had forgotten this. Forgotten the way he never failed to support you, never allowed you to doubt yourself. You let your hand fall from your lap beside his on the bedroll, just the tiniest graze of your pinky against his.

He tried not to watch you too intently, like you might run again if he looked right at you. It chafed a little, but you couldn’t really blame him.

In the end, you figure it out—how to be brave about it. You turn your ire inward, let the frustration roil at your cowardice. He was right there. So what if you were afraid? You had survived losing him twice; surely it would be easier a third time. And what, were you really this pathetic? You had been so scared that love would make you fragile that you didn’t realize the fear was doing it anyway. Not until you shattered.

You give a little angry huff, scowling, and slide your hand into his, entwining your fingers.

Din holds very still, curling his hand in yours slowly. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t confused by the anger on your face, but it wasn’t worth spooking you over. It was strange, how his heart was racing faster just holding your hand than ten minutes ago when he was holding your breasts.

“What if,” he begins, pausing minutely to gauge your reaction. When you don’t shut down, he presses forward. “What if we link comms? When you get back.”

The scowl smooths out, not quite into a smile, but into something soft and thoughtful. You tilt your head, brows furrowed as you consider it. “And what, just like check in?”

“Or we could talk. In the morning or before bed, when we’re not hunting.” His anxious thumb rubs up and down your finger.

You don’t answer for a minute, considering. You find that the idea settles somewhere below your ribs, tucked away and harmless. Something akin to a smile blossoms, and it makes his chest tight.

“I think I’d like that.”

Din calls the same night he drops you off. You’re half asleep, but the crackle of the commlink startles you awake.

“Settled back in?” he asks once you answer.

“Uh-huh,” you tell your pillow.

“Were you asleep already?”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d call. You just dropped me off.”

“That’s not how you start a routine, cyare. If you put it off once, you’ll just keep forgetting.”

“Don’t lecture me, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were home safe.”

“You walked me to my apartment.”

“Alright, fine, go to sleep.” It’s soft and teasing, and it warms your heart in such an embarrassing way.

“Goodnight, Din,” you murmur, already snuggling back down in your blankets.

“Goodnight, cyare.”

*title from "Miami" by Taking Back Sunday.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fic #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #din djarin smut #dom din djarin #make it hurt verse #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fic

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osleeplessflowero · 3 months

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i watched sleeping beauty again and was enlightened. enjoy! 📖 Fairytale AU series! This time featuring Blue <3 ❤️ Reader is Gender Neutral as always, SOUL is up to you!

- 🗡Previous Oneshot - Next Oneshot (Soon)

It's a beautiful day outside. (Not that kind!) The sun shines brightly in the sky, birds sing songs to one another as they fly through the skies right above your head. You smile as you walk along a forest path, surrounded by glowing mushrooms and gorgeous flowers. Wandering through, you make your way over to some berry bushes and pick them, gently placing them into a basket in your left hand with a grin.

A few of the forest animals notice you, deciding to accompany you in your travels. Squirrels, birds, even a few deer. Seems you've got quite the audience for some berry picking. You smile amusedly as a robin lands on your shoulder.

"My my, there's certainly a lot of you, isn't there?"

You hear a variety of animal sounds in reply.

"Well, I don't mind that. The more the merrier." You chuckle, spotting some strawberries and picking them after ensuring they're ripe. You decide to spare some blueberries you'd found earlier to them, the gesture very much so appreciated.

You've been walking a while..perhaps it would be best to take a rest. Humming, you walk over to a lone tree stump and sit on it, resting your legs beside a stream. The animals surround you, seeming to want to take a rest as well.

"I didn't know I'd be making so many friends today." You smile, gently petting the head of the bird that's still on your shoulder with your fingers. It promptly chirps in response.

Feeling more at ease, you hum a familiar tune as the animals surround you that echoes throughout the area.

. . .

Two knights wander through the forest. Both skeletons, one much taller than the other. Both very bright eyed and seeking adventure. The taller skeleton has armor with themes of red, the shorter one wearing themes of blue.

The shorter one swings his sword around. "So, What Do You Think We'll Find Today, Papyrus? I'm Hoping We'll Find Somewhere New To Explore! Or Maybe An Enemy To Defeat To Save Someone." He pretends to attack an invisible enemy, making "swoosh"ing sounds.

"Nyeh Heh, I Wouldn't Doubt Either Of Those Happening, Blue! We'll Simply Have To See What The Day Brings Before We Must Return Home To Our Brothers. And Probably Find Them Asleep." He sighs, putting a hand on his hip as he walks. Blue lets out an amused chuckle.

"Yeah, That Sounds Like Them." He grins, amused by the scenario he's grown so familiar with.

Blue's focus is interrupted when he hears the sound of someone singing, turning his head towards the trees beside them.

"Blue? Is Something The Matter?" Papyrus asks, curious as to what's distracted his fellow knight.

"I Hear Something..Be Right Back!" He runs off.

"BLUE! DON'T GO RUNNING INTO UNKNOWN TERRITORY!" Papyrus shouts after him, sighing again. "That Skeleton.. We May Be Incredibly Alike, But I Can Still See Bits Of My Brother Within Him." He shakes his head and decides to take a moment to rest. His legs had admittedly grown a little tired.

Blue chases the sound of someone's voice, the sound like a siren's call to him, luring him in. He can't help but be a little curious. it's not every day you hear something like this out in the woods! Let alone a sound this..lovely.

He runs, following the sound to the best of his ability with a bright smile before he comes to a stop.. stepping past a tree and spotting you, finishing off your song with closed eyes and surrounded by very different animals.

When you open them, your eyes go wide at the sight of the skeleton, not having expected to see anybody. Your cheeks flush a little too, not having expected anyone to overhear. Well, apart from the wildlife that is.

He grins when he realizes you've noticed him, before backtracking a little. He did just show up unannounced..

"Oh! I'm Terribly Sorry, I Didn't Mean To Scare You." "Oh, no no, it- it's not that, it's just.." "You Didn't Think Anyone Would Hear?" "Yeah." The animals watch your interactions curiously. "I'm not usually one to speak to strangers."

"Well, Then I May As Well Introduce Myself! We Wouldn't Be Strangers Anymore Then." A cheeky grin makes its way onto his face.

You smile amusedly at this.

He bows, making your smile grow a little. "My Name Is Blue, A Knight Of The Swappe Kingdom. It's A Pleasure To Meet You!"

You stand up, bowing back to him. A gesture he's pleasantly surprised by. You tell him your name, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Sir Blue. A Knight all the way out here in the woods? Whatever could be the occasion?" You smile, raising a brow.

"Well, I Happened To Be Travelling With A Companion Of Mine To Go Find Any Quests To Complete. Ah, I've- I've Left Him Behind!- ..I'm..Sure He Can Handle Himself Just Fine."

You chuckle, putting your hand over your mouth. He smiles sheepishly.

"See, I'd Heard You And..I Really Wanted To Know Who Owned Such A Nice Sounding Voice. So I Ran Over Impulsively."

You smile. "Well..I'm happy you liked it." Your face flushes a little. "I'm a bit..shy about it. I don't usually sing in front of people."

"I Can Understand That, But In Truth Your Voice Is Very Lovely! You Shouldn't Hide It."

"Well..thank you." you mutter in reply.

There's a comfortable moment of silence, before Blue disturbs the peace. "Ah, I..I Should Be Heading Back Now."

"Yes.. um..it was nice meeting you, Blue." "Could I..See You Again?" "Where?" "Here, Tomorrow?" "I'd like that." You smile, him smiling at you in return before he hears his companion shout for him. He's startled, abruptly starting to back up.

"I'll See You Soon!" He shouts, running away out of sight. "I'll be here!" You shout back, grinning as he fades from your view. You turn back to the animals, finding them a bit more smug than they were before..

"Don't look at me like that!" You shout, your face flushing brighter as you're met with various animal noises.

"Blue, There You Are! Whatever Happened?" "I Wanted To Go Investigate Something, Sorry If I Worried You."

Papyrus sighs. "Very Well, But Don't Go Running Off Without Telling Me Why Next Time!" "Understood!" Blue chuckles as they walk along the path they'd intended to before.

#sleeplessflower's fairytale series #swap sans x reader #underswap sans x reader #undertale x reader #sans au x reader #gender neutral reader

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kanafinwe-makalaure · 1 year

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Another favourite headcanon of mine is that Maglor and Gandalf are old pals. Not Years of The Trees old, but I like to think they probably met in the early third age.

Gandalf, of course, knew who this strange, wandering elf was when he first saw him at a secluded spot at the shore, and curiosity compelled him to take a closer look. At first, he felt only pity and tried to go and approach the sad creature, but Maglor had remained surprisingly in tune with the Music, and sensed him, and bolted, abandoning his little fire as well as the bits of food he had laid out for himself, a bit of old bread, a bruised apple, two small fish he had caught that he had hung over the fire. Gandalf, then, felt very sorry; not even the evilest soul in the world would have deserved this. He left his own bag of rations at the little camp - not that he needed to eat, but it was pleasant - with a little note that said: "I did not mean to startle you. I apologise. Please accept this as compensation."

Two days later, when Gandalf passed that same spot again, the bag was gone, and he could only hope it had found its way to its recipient.

The second time he saw Maglor, he remained far away, and only listened to his voice in the wind. Maglor was not putting any Power behind it, only singing to himself, of brothers long lost, sons stolen, battles lost, a home to which he would never return. Certainly, loneliness had drenched this elf's entire being; no wonder he was hiding. He was ashamed, and afraid, but definitely not (no longer?) foul and corrupted.

He left a good cloak where he had heard the voice, and a note: "Keep yourself warm, my friend; it is easier on the voice."

The third time Gandalf saw Maglor (pleased as he took note of the fact the elf was wearing the cloak), he went to him, slowly, and not disguising his presence. Maglor let him approach, and eyed him warily, clutching his tattered, wooden lap harp to his chest.

Gandalf tipped his hat in greeting and began to lay out supper between them on a large, clean handkerchief; cheese and sausages, sweet pears and tomatoes, berries, pies and cakes. The elf glanced at the meal beside him, his cheeks sunken and his eyes betraying his hunger.

"Please," Gandalf said, "help yourself. There is more than enough."

"Thank you," the Elf mumbled. When he spoke, his voice sounded raspy, as if he had not used it at all in an Age. "But I do not deserve your kindnesses."

Gandalf laughed. "Yet I've never met anyone who has needed them more than you."

"I thank you," Maglor rasped, "for your past gifts, truly. But now that you are here to be refused, I must tell you - I cannot accept this."

Gandalf chuckled. "Well, then I promise this time, I am acting purely out of selfishness. I simply want someone to share a meal with, and you happened to be here. Come, eat; or do you not believe my food is good?"

Maglor stole another glance at the food, his jaw working.

"Just a bite," Gandalf coaxed.

"Just a bite," Maglor conceded.

Gandalf handed him a piece of good, fresh bread with cheese, and the Elf took it with pointed fingers into his bandaged hands, almost shaking as he did his best to eat slowly and properly.

Throughout the meal, he was coerced into trying more and more, and grandually, he began to relax. Gandalf stayed long into the night; they sat by the fire, trading old stories, and Maglor offered all he had in return for the meal - a song.

From that day onwards, they were friends. Maglor had much to tell whenever they met - news, old stories, insights and wisdom, sometimes even utter nonsense that he shared with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Gandalf ensured he stayed warm and fed and sometimes he let slip one or the other half-sentece about Elrond Halfelven. Maglor seemed to absorb those like a sponge; but he never told him how often Elrond rode out looking for him, and he never told Elrond that he had found him; he knew Maglor was not ready for that, not yet.

He watched the Elf get better, slowly. Maglor started taking better care of himself, mended his clothes and boots, combed and braided his hair, made jewellery out of wooden beads and seashells and sold it for food.

An Age later, as soon as their ship to Valinor had left the havens, he joined his friend Elrond at the railing; Elrond had been tense, understandably so, but also strangely jumpy.

"Have you told Lady Galadriel about him?"

"I know not what you mean," Elrond replied, making the same face as a hobbit-child that had broken a plate and was trying to cover up his mishap.

Gandalf only gave him a knowing smile.

“How did you know?” Elrond conceded.

“I know now,” Gandalf replied with a wink.

Under deck, Lady Galadriel almost stumbled over a small wooden flute, and went to look for its owner.

#gandalf #maglor #elrond #galadriel #silm headcanons #my headcanons #fourth age #my writing

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saintmeghanmarkle · 13 days

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Recap of Juicy Scoop episode w/Spencer Pratt from April 23 2024 re: polo show by u/RBXChas

Recap of Juicy Scoop episode w/Spencer Pratt from April 23, 2024 re: polo show Spotify link: https://ift.tt/AX2jUMs at ~32:35Heather asks Spencer if he’s gotten any jam, and Spencer sounded confused and said he thought she was doing some coffee thing. Then Heather got confused and asked if M was working at a coffee shop like Ben Affleck making donuts at Dunkin’ Donuts. (They go on a bit of a tangent here, so I’ll skip ahead.)Heather asks Spencer if he’s a M fan (he says he’s a big fan) and if he thinks her creating ARO is a good move. She says that some say it’s a long name but is supposedly the actual name of the orchard “in which she lives on or where she’s grabbing her berries from.” Spencer says he would be more excited if she figured out a way to be on a reality show without saying she’s on a reality show, and he feels like “the polo show” is the way to do that. Heather asks what that is. Spencer says M is executive producing it with H and goes into how Heidi used to go to polo matches in Santa Barbara and thought it would make a good reality show, so he told her that now the show she always wanted is getting made, except it’s even better because it has H&M in it. He said these are some of the richest people who get together and drink. Heather basically expresses that she doesn’t know anything about polo. Spencer recounts what we all saw about the cameras being at the recent polo match in Florida.They move on to talking about Harry’s announcement that his official residence is no longer in the UK as of June of 2023. Spencer says it could be “a tax thing”, and Heather says she doesn’t know about that but thinks that they tried the documentary thing and the podcast thing, realized it was harder than it seemed, so now the cameras just follow them around because that’s what we all want to see, since they hang around with rich people who can just hop on private jets and go to things, then throw in a charity event here or there to make it look like they care about people.Spencer says he saw “the best clip” from the polo match after the trophy ceremony. Heather interrupts to say that he’s talking about old footage, the stuff where M is trying to take the trophy, but Spencer corrects her and says that this is something from the recent polo match. He goes on to describe the lady who stood next to H, but M whispered something to her to make her move away, which Spencer says is the show he wants to watch. (In other words, he wants to watch some drama.) Heather says that M is beautiful and stylish and that even if you don’t like her, you’re still intrigued, so Netflix should go for it.Spencer lamented that M and her team still haven’t figured out a way to get in with Taylor Swift, which is “such a no-brainer”. M and Taylor could hang out while H and Travis could hang out, and Travis has a new show that H could go on._______________________________My take? Nobody in the US cares about polo, and IMHO, making a documentary about a sport that’s too expensive for most people to play is not exactly a good look. “Waaaah, King Pa cut me off, waaaah, M can’t even afford her own lip gloss, waaaah, I can barely see through my tears when I brush my ponies, and the only thing I have to wipe my tears is the wads of hundred dollar bills that my pockets can’t seem to contain.”However, I think people will watch if only to see how gruesome H&M are. I certainly won’t tune in but will have my eyes peeled for recaps. post link: https://ift.tt/FSVXMjz author: RBXChas submitted: May 01, 2024 at 02:45PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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askbwarbler · 2 months

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wait, is that BLAINE ANDERSON? they kinda look a lot like ANTHONY KEYVAN, don’t they? i heard the TWENTY-ONE year old is known as the VIRTUOSO around mckinley. it seems like they auditioned to be in THE WARBLERS (CO-HEAD WARBLER) which is so lame? people at campus have said they’re COURTEOUS, but don’t be fooled since they’re also HOT TEMPERED. rumor has it, you can find them at PHOTOGRAPHY, FIGHT CLUB (CAPTAIN), DRAMA & GAY-STRAIGHT ALLIANCE when they aren’t belting show tunes. their entire vibe revolves around MEDIUM DRIP, BOW TIES & HAIR GEL but no one pays attention to that here in ohio.

𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑺.

full name: blaine devon anderson

nickname(s): blaine warbler, b(ee)

pronouns: he/him

birthday: july 27th (leo)

relationship status: single

sexuality: homosexual

clubs: photography, fight club, drama, gay-straight alliance

glee club: co-captain of the warblers

major: music theory and composition

minor: acting

𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺.

blaine has always been very sure of himself, who he is and what he stands for. he came out at sixteen and never looked back. yes, the road has been long and hard and filled with multiple challenges, being gay and living in ohio especially; but this only has only made him that much more resilient and ready to fight the good fight.

the piano has been blaine’s go-to ever since he was a little boy. he dreams of reaching the heights of bowie and freddie mercury someday, and loves to belt out show tunes almost just as much as he does all things top forty. would he rather be up on that stage on broadway or become the next male version of tswift? it’s all still just a silly pipe dream to blaine. though a person certainly can dream. and the warblers are definitely rockstars.

a day not gelled is a day not well spent. and coffee? coffee is essential.

after joining the warblers during his freshman year, starting a dalton exclusive branch of fight club was next up on blaine’s list. it’s both a safe space and inner sanctum for likeminded individuals — to blow off steam and keep each other in check. a club so exclusive, in fact, that it can not be talked about, its headquarters’ whereabouts included.

growing up in his older brother’s much bigger footsteps has never been easy for blaine. for as long as he remembers, blaine has had something to prove. it’s one of the reasons why he took up acting as his minor; a choice begrudgingly made upon cooper’s insistence that there is no future in just singing or show choir.

absolutely no stage is too small, and that includes the ones at theme parks.

𝑺𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑻.

vocal type: full lyric tenor

vocal range: G2-A5

instruments: piano (preferred), guitar

other: musical notation, dance (untrained)

𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

best friend: sam evans

co-captain/current hookup: sebastian smythe

fellow warblers: hunter clarington, brody weston, tucker atkinson, jeff sterling

friends from high school: brittany pierce, tina cohen-chang, nick duval

new friends: kurt hummel, bree brown

new acquaintance: rachel berry

rival: finn hudson, noah puckerman (unknowing)

enemy: brett bukowski, jesse st. james

media outlet: jacob ben isreal

𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

fellow frequent flyer: blaine is at the lima bean constantly and he might run into your character so much that they (accidentally) hit it off!

broadway babies: blaine used to do a lot of local theater productions back in high school. your character often shared the same productions and/or starred opposite his lead!

jam buddy: blaine plays both piano and guitar, and loves to express himself through music. your character also plays an instrument, and they like to hang out and jam!

tiktok follower: blaine recently made a tiktok account for himself where he posts videos featuring his day-to-day interests and activities, the warblers and quite a few of his original music compositions on the piano. your character follows and admires (from afar)!

lost love connection: blaine is on the online dating apps and occasionally likes to frequent scandals. your character and blaine either matched online or hit it off on the dance floor and then unfortunately (purposely) lost touch by the end of the conversation/date/night!

more to be added!

#wmacintro

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randomvarious · 14 days

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Today's compilation:

Chess Blues Guitar: Two Decades of Killer Fretwork, 1949-1969 1998 Blues / Rock & Roll

Y'know, when I first started this ridiculous music collecting hobby of mine a buncha years ago, one of the first genres that I built with was the blues. But ever since that initial year, I haven't really dove back into them all that much. This nice double-disc from the legendary Chess Records—widely hailed as one of the most important labels in the history of blues music altogether, while also simultaneously serving integral roles in shaping both the sounds and histories of rock & roll and R&B as well—provides a much-needed shot in the arm, though.

Here we have a set of tunes that showcases some of the greatest guitarists that the blues genre has ever known, all of whom at one time or another recorded something for Chess during its quarter-century of existence; we're talking unanimous first ballot Blues Hall of Famers here, like John Lee Hooker, Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Buddy Guy, and Albert King. And we've got some lesser known bluesmen too, along with some early rock & roll pioneers as well, like Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley.

Now, I'll say that, without a doubt, every single one of these songs on this release is good. But for the truly *exceptional* tunes here, for me, personally, it's not so much the 'killer fretwork' that I find to be most dazzling; moreso, it's the striking voices that accompany all of that instrumentation; those impassioned yowls, howls, and scratchy, gravel-raspy quivers that'll really have you reacting viscerally with all sorts of satisfied face-scrunches and eye squints. This comp is littered with plenty of dexterous guitar work, but only a handful of voices seem capable of taking some of these songs to a whole 'nother level.

And among the tunes that do deploy *those* remarkable voices, it's hard to pick a total favorite, but one that stands out especially is "When I Am Gone," by one-man band Joe Hill Louis (credited as Lewis on this release), a song with pretty amazing acoustics for something that was released all the way back in 1952. Louis' career was tragically cut short by a fatal bout of tetanus in 1957, and so, for a recording career that only began in 1949, we were robbed of a whole lot of his potential. But fortunately, he left us with this song, which when compared to other blues tunes from 1952 that I'm familiar with, sounds far more advanced in the way that it was recorded and mixed. Louis sounds like he's singing directly into his mic, but his guitar has that thick, wet, and sort of distant sound to it, like it's being played out in the hallway or something. And this song would've been great no matter which year it was recorded in, but the fact that it's from the early 50s really makes it all the more impressive to me.

Another excellent cut on this album is Buddy Guy's "Broken Hearted Blues." Plenty of accomplished bluesmen tend to sport voices that are rough, rugged, and either mid-range or deep, but Buddy seems to be singing in a much higher key than most on this brilliant tune of his that was merely a B-side in 1960. Singing in notes as high as he was wasn't a *completely* unique thing to the blues, of course, but once his voice enters at around the 16-second mark, you'll understand just how devastatingly effective he can be at it 👍.

In all honesty, I probably could've done with just a single disc here, but a solid portion of this album still has some phenomenal stuff on it, especially if you're searching for songs that bring both gifted blues guitar and voices in tandem. I'm certainly not the biggest blues junkie in the world, but the songs that I've listed in the highlights below really managed to pierce my soul 😌.

Highlights:

CD1:

Johnny Shines - "So Glad That I Found You" Joe Hill Lewis - "When I Am Gone"

CD2:

Muddy Waters - "Walking Thru the Park" Buddy Guy - "Broken Hearted Blues" Elmore James - "Talk to Me Baby (I Can't Hold Out)" Howlin' Wolf - "Killing Floor" Buddy Guy - "Leave My Girl Alone" Little Milton - "I Can't Quit You Baby" Johnny Littlejohn - "She's Too Much"

#blues #the blues #rock & roll #rock and roll #rock #classic rock #oldies #music #40s #40s music #40's #40's music #50s #50s music #50's #50's music #60s #60s music #60's #60's music

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dkniade · 3 months

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January 7, 2024. 11:09 PM

Small Dragonspine snippet about cold to practice description

Coldness sure is… something. I wrote this to practise doing descriptions, after watching “Fear of Cold” by Jacob Geller, which is very engaging and well-presented, threading together multiple stories and their perspectives.

Notes: detailed description of the cold, snow, alone in the wilderness, scavenging

Generally speaking, Mondstadt is blessed by the Anemo Archon with warm gentle winds and soft grassy plains. As you look up from your feet, the clear stream babbles as it flows towards Starfell Lake, encircling the great oak tree, protecting it. Sweet sounds of chirping sound in your ears, as though Barbatos himself is singing a tune. No matter how weary you are from your travels, you can always rest in the shade of that tree.

But Barbatos’ voice cannot reach you here on this mountain.

Dragonspine is cold. It’s cold in the sense that a pyre doesn’t feel as warm as it looks. And the lake and the sugar-like snow that stretches on eternally is beautiful, certainly, but there’s a difference between looking at a picturesque scenery and experiencing it with your body firsthand.

Indeed, the hostile environment earns the mountain its grim reputation of claiming various adventurers. In the Starlight Cavern, you hear the crunch of snow beneath your boots echoing throughout the space, revealing its labyrinth-like scale and complexity. While walking over the fragile wooden bridge to the alchemist’s camp, it creaks under your weight, and chips of wood splinter and fall down into the emptiness of the great valley below. While resting at an abandoned camp and gazing into the fire, you hear rustles in the bushes around you but see nothing as you look out.

But the cold stalks your body like a ghost possessing your flesh. It steals feeling from your fingers. You paw ungracefully with your stiff gloved hands at the rectangular stone mechanism you occasionally find around ruins. The strength in your arms diminish as you feel the freezing wind biting your skin. With a slow creak, the mechanism comes to life and reveals the glowing amber core inside along with the warmth you had craved like an animal without food.

And the waters are not any less dangerous just because they’re not frozen. Mondstadt’s ponds and lakes are generally okay to swim in and it never gets too cold in the plains and valleys. But in Dragonspine, the cold spreads across your limbs faster in the freezing water, like a fisherman’s web that entangles you and slows down your movement. Between your safety and the loss of that notebook in the waters, it’s best to pick only one.

Food is scarce. Far from the ripe berries and sweet flowers abundant in the grassy plains, you must learn to hunt boars silently and strike with impeccable timing before you or your weapon gives in to the harsh and unforgiving environment. Even then, scavenging for amounts of flesh you could carry from the body is no easy task and you’re always vulnerable to whatever masked entity behind you, locked and loaded.

The cold reminds you of the dangers of your journey. No matter how prepared or graceful you thought you were in combat, the cold reduces you to a small creature that looks out into the horizon to admire its beauty while at the same time scan for warning signs. Your once-quick swings are replaced by slow and stiff dodges and lunges. Physical enemies could be killed, yes, but the sharp winds whispering by your ears promise a grey eternity with Dragonspine leading the dance.

But you must keep going, traveller.

#dusk fan writing #Dragonspine #snow #snowy mountain #cold #Genshin impact #Mondstadt #genshin fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing community #creative writing

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ritzy-cervidae · 1 year

Video

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Poisoning Pigeons In The Park

#music #Tunes that are certainly the berries

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th3-0bjectivist · 2 years

Video

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Sometimes I’ll post a tune by a band I don’t particularly care for because they have a single song that is outstanding. This is one of those times, dear listener. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike Dubstar, I just think their overall catalog is as boring as granola. I’m not talking about the kind of granola that’s infused with berries, chocolate, and tons of sugar. No. I’m talking plain old healthy granola infused with just a little honey to slightly enhance the flavor. If you like their albums more power to you because there’s certainly nothing wrong with them in the vocal, lyrical, instrumental, or compositional departments. Their music is quite good, I’m just personally not that into it. That said, this week I gave myself the Herculean task of perusing through their catalog to find something to post, and after nearly falling asleep several times, Stars from 1995’s Disgraceful chimed in and energized me like a splash of cold water to the face in an arid desert. This is a good example of a combined band’s talents taken to its absolute zenith. This song is all about escapism and they provide it for the listener with a hybridized style of rock, dance and trip-hop that are blended JUST ENOUGH to make this track a thing of real ethereal beauty. Founded in Newcastle upon Tyne, England this Brit-pop act certainly did have a run of semi-success during their time together, especially early on. They’re also one of the very few bands I know of that took a nearly two-decade hiatus (2000-2018) only to come back and try their hand at making music together again. Although I’m not a fan of the albums or the group, I still must give this tune respect for being the single work of staggering genius that it is. So next time you want to make out with your significant other, date or partner under the stars… go out far away from the city, put this baby on repeat, look up, and enjoy! Oh, I nearly forgot, the band Lacuna Coil did a gothic metal variation of this song, it’s worth a listen, and you can find it here.

Circa the mid 90′s, image credit: https://sandimental.livejournal.com/103023.html

#dubstar #stars #indiepop #europop #synth-pop #music #music on tumblr #audio #audio/video #song #dream pop #synthpop #electropop #britpop #English band #disgraceful

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amcdrawnon · 1 year

Note

That last ask apparently got a reply to it per my friend.

>Dry aged beef steak and hearty beef tacos are in his favorite foods, though. I don’t think he dislikes heavy meats. I think he hates cheese based on his disliked foods, though. He not like the cheesy champion. Angry. Catboy no cheeseborgar.

This stems from a misconception about the game’s food mechanics! While TWEWY had five food tiers with different quotes, NEO has four food tiers but only three different sprites/voice lines, which can cause confusion. However, characters have foods that they ‘dislike’ (1/4), ‘tolerate’ (2/4), ‘like’ (3/4), and ‘love’ (4/4). I should note that I didn’t make this up; the official Japanese guidebook sets them into four tiers (shown as a batsu, triangle, maru, and double maru respectively).

You may have noticed that eating certain foods increases your drop rate, but other foods do not. Foods in the ‘love’ tier (4/4, ◎ mark) have a chance to increase drop rate—unlike any other food—and have the highest chance to incur food bonuses such as extra stats. The fourth tier thus differs mechanistically from the third, and the official guidebook differentiates between the two tiers.

When I refer to Minamimoto’s favourite foods, I am referring to the ones in the 4/4 ◎ tier. These are: Ice Cream Float, SKO Sandwich, Superhero Soda, Dark Chocolate Dream, Ruby Chocolate Delight, Strawberry Boba Latte, Mango Boba Latte, Very Berry Bouquet, Farm-Fresh Cream Cone, Chocolate Soft Serve, Berry Blend Tea, Bubbly Berry Blend, Masala Dosa, Anko Dango Skewer (also referenced in a goroawase pun), Crispylicious Taiyaki, Fluffy Pancake Stack, and Creamy Berry Shaved Ice. No meat! (The masala dosa served in-game lists potatoes, lentils, rice, sambar, and chutney amongst its ingredients. No meat.)

You’ll note from this that Minamimoto seems to especially adore berry-flavoured desserts. I think that all of the berry-favoured sweets are on his favourites list, while not all chocolate ones are, for example. He has berry particular taste.

AMC-sama isn’t implying that Minamimoto hates all meat. Rather, she correctly points out that he dislikes meat the most out of the cast. He certainly isn’t a vegetarian or something like that, but every other character has at least one meat-containing dish on the 4/4 tier. Thus Minamimoto doesn’t say that he hates all 29, merely that 29 isn’t his thing and that when he does like it, he prefers it well-done.

Thanks for tuning in to this random aside on a joke blog. I have a translated version of the food list from the guidebook available if you want to review it for yourself: doc (dot) google (dot) com/spreadsheets/d/1Q5QloDNAEqoJz3M4CF2617C9kbR_WMEYEpy2J7wVJF0

Local Mathman has the taste of a dessert blogger

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katyspersonal · 1 year

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a 0 for izzy thank you very much

Dear GOD! I am better off not knowing how long ago I received this ask and I just happened to forget about it..

Alright, so asks are from this ( x ) meme, and number 0 stands for everything from the asks list, so this will be a long one and hiding under cut! But first I will note that past some point in her story, Izzy uses she/her and he/him interchangeably, so pronouns bouncing might occur. Also here is my recent ref of her face:

1) What would their social media page/activity be like

Hmmm, it is a complicated one, because Izzy is a rebel! The way she'd protest the nonsense in the internet might vary from exposing the scientifical/logical fallacy from the pages of people like Laurence (hello Simon's colleague!) to refusing to engage with the social media altogether since it is all only illusion of a struggle that accomplishes anything at all. Perhaps transition from the former to the latter as time goes by. However, while she's in the internet, she'd certainly troll the 'leaders' by asking rather provocative questions. "Hey, Ludwig, if your god is so benevolent, how comes they condone violence and g3nocide? ;)"

2) What animal they remind me of

She is a multitude, but my initial impression of her was a hyena for some reason... Maybe because back then she was solid in my head as a very dominant female beast. By now, her connection with the beasthood leads her to interchange with female and male (but not the same way as Marika and Radagon; in Izzy's case, that's explicitly the same person and the same name, just with biological sex slider being moved back and forth).

My recent impression of Izzy was the noodle dragon; not a real animal, of course, but what I ended up making his beast form appear like. That's as reptilian as Izzy gets though; otherwise he lived his life way more in tune of being canine/feline, with rare insect features.

3) My thoughts on their design/aesthetic alone

Bwahaha! Jokes on you, Izzy doesn't have canon appearance! xD But my first impression, in my head, was that of Izzy being an effeminate person with two braids held by silly ribbons, despite a large build that could rival Gratia's. Only that back then, I imagined her/him as a blonde, but I decided pale 'brown' hair worked better. I later learned that Izzy's name MUCH more likely is a variant of George (Jiří) that I kept checking over ( x ) ( x ) and realised is very palatable. Everything finally fell into place later; a person raised as a man and even given male name, that can now finally get in touch with the femininity she was denied! Something I feel slightly connected with, because I feel like my first stepdad corrupted my gender identity by wishing for a son and consistently trying to replace my hobbies and clothes with masculine ones (that I was very receptive of as a curious kid).

Either way, I do like how Izzy looks for now in my head. As a woman, she is very muscular and strong but with 'silly' feminine attributes like ribbons and flowers that feel almost absurd. As a man though... I don't even know, this is the only vibe I PHYSICALLY can think of:

4) Physical headcanons (sleeping habits, favourite food, all that)

Izzy tends to feel her body's needs very well and naturally gets craving for whatever elements she is lacking. Even before beasthood shenanigans, she had developed habit of listening to her body and trusting the (seemingly) irrational sensations that she doesn't remember having ever failed her. She learned to not think of it too hard. But, her diet had a LOT of berries, fruit, mushrooms and vegetables before falling for beasthood naturally shifted her cravings to more carnivorous ones. Izzy is a garbage cook though, eating almost everything as raw as it can be. That led her to having mushroom poisoning multiple times in her life, but she never ate any that was life-threatening; simply ones way better cooked.

Izzy is an extreme kind of a night owl - naturally leans towards going to bed in early morning and waking up during early evening. Naturally, social life didn't welcome it very well, so she always had problem with being irritable during the day and struggling to fall asleep during the night. Nights of the Hunt are quite natural and convenient for her.

The scars on her face have all existed before any funny hunting business and were earned by her upon wrestling with wild beasts. It is a person that would try to fight a bear with her bare hands, and there is no guarantee that the bear would win! But, she does have multiple traumas (mostly clawmarks) on her body. Her body is also rather muscular from a lot of power-lifting and fighting training. Also, she was informed that "eating onions will strengthen your teeth" and has been eating them regularly for as long as she could remember, and otherwise taking good care of her teeth, so they are all very strong and white.

5) Social headcanons (what do they think of their friends/allies if they have any, what are they looking for in relationship, what people tend to think about them...)

Izzy has a fault of pulling the 'overfamiliar rudeness' on the people she barely knows, that guaranteed her making some people uncomfortable from the very start. She has a very poor comprehension of social cues and boundaries, doesn't help that she is rather rude. Not because she tries to be mean, but rather because she is blunt and honest! And, well, what will your honesty be when most people around you are idiots? Right, it will be letting them know that they are idiots...

She is, however, opposite of my Archibald; whereas he is polite and distant with people but secretly thinks lowly of them, Izzy is rude and disrespectful with people but tends to be neutral towards them or even likes them. She doesn't seem why they'd get hostile or upset over rude by honest remarks - it is okay to be stupid! It is okay to cringe and fail! It is okay to be selfish! These are human things, and Izzy doesn't see anything wrong with exposing how much humans suck in general and have petty fights over it. Moreover, she invites anyone to insult and expose her back, she would not hold grudges as long as it is fair and accurate.

Izzy has no idea what to gain from relationship or what she wants of it, really. She experienced attraction to someone more than once, but she just doesn't know what to DO with it other than simply care about this person above everyone else, protect them above everyone else and cuddle+kiss them more than anyone else. She wondered whether something was wrong with her for not seeing difference between 'very strong and intimate friendship' and 'romance' that apparently everyone else gets; doesn't help that she experiences sexual attraction to pretty much everyone she starts to trust. She thinks that maybe 'normal' relationship is not for her and her true essence lays within strong and intimate bonds with 'allies' instead.

However, Izzy is the most attracted to the 'contrast' for the lack of better term. She most likes either strong people that could kick her ass, or small and frail people she'd have to protect.

On a more complicated note, Izzy does avoid having strong and lasting friendship bonds, because he is the type to show his love and devotion by tearing one's enemy apart in the most gory way possible. But what if this 'enemy' is someone who simply needs another perspective and guidance towards what they missed? Devotion blinds Izzy's reasoning, which is inconvenient because he is as much a smart person as he is a strong one; so, he tries to keep his friendships a little shallow.

Izzy loves picking up every 'psychological test' she is offered, even if the tester doesn't feel very qualified. Whether it is an offering to draw something and be interpreted according to it, or some charlatan offering to read her soul with the cards, Izzy liked things like this. It comes from deep yearning for people who try to understand her, as opposed to turning her into what they WANT her to be... Even if it might be a fake action.

6) Psychological headcanons (tastes, fears, talents, regrets, how they deal with anger, just anything that comes to mind on the topic)

Many people would expect Izzy to be somewhat stupid and irrational because of how she behaves in society and her temperament, but that can't be further from truth! Izzy is quite open-minded, curious, flexible and even immune to manipulation. Even something she holds the most sacred and dear - if it is objectively not valid, she is willing to know the ugly truth about it! This mindset led her to be an easy target for the influence of Fauna the Great One beast - aside of devotion to her loved ones, Izzy holds nothing sacred or unquestionable, so to be the first to question the importance of humanity itself was only natural. I think there is a great courage in being willing to question even the most solid dogmas, though.

Izzy does like dark green color and flower/butterflies aesthetic, which he later found weird, considering his spiritual connection to Fauna. He believes all along it was a bittersweet reminder that was brought by the fate itself - like how even wolves like Fauna howl at the moon. He could write a beautiful poetry about it.

Izzy is scared of insanity, although many people in his surrounding would've considered it ironic in their disdain to his eventual beliefs. But people like Logarius or Alfred would make him feel cold in fear and disbelief. Although committing to beasthood as the new future of the mortals in the end, Izzy is still acting rational in his own animalistic way; but it is people who act without reason, without even very primordial logic who make him feel threatened. He will always try to identify motivation and reasoning of the person, even as a beast, and if he fails to do so, fear will settle in his heart.

When Izzy was able to break ties with her small family and joined the hunters, she enjoyed it quite a lot. She felt as though she could finally be herself - unapologetically, freely. She had a period of admiring cute things like ribbons, frills, beads, glitter and flowers. However, her violent and hostile upbringing took over, and she was ready to be one of the most eager hunters very soon. Until... well, you know. She feels regretful about having never been able to tell her father what exactly she thought of him, however! The bastard died just when she built enough of a character, and she will carry unsaid grudges within herself for god knows how long!

It is hard to predict Izzy's behaviour under the weight of anger, since his anger can be both cold and wicked, or hot and dangerous. But it will be a dangerous, merciless ordeal in either way, so if someone incurred his wrath, they better ask forgiveness. Izzy is, however, extremely forgiving and understanding, since for him humans doing horrible actions is a natural result of their nature. It is not 'being bad' that is bad; it is 'being bad' in the WRONG way that is bad!

7) Ship(s) with them that I like or at least consider

Izzy x Afflicted Beggar: I think Izzy would be the first (and maybe the only) person to not fear Garlan's strange inherited 'second nature'. Encourage him as a special person, even. That Garlan would've appreciated a lot, having to fear himself his whole life and wondering whether he should off himself for the sake of everyone. I like to imagine Izzy training him to control his transformation into a beast and back and 'eating rationally', and allowing him to fight her with teeth and claws when beastly urges get too much. Garlan would've never been able to live down the emptiness in his heart if they really had something intimate going and then Izzy just disappeared, he'd feel like he'd lost his one true shot of real love forever.

Izzy x Ludwig: They are enemies, as tomb prospecting hunters that discovered the kinship with the antagonistic Great Ones who could never get along and their mutual hostility rules the world. They hate each other, but at the same time wish each other to "come to their senses" and join another's side. I sometimes have mental image of them crying together and yelling at each other - Izzy saying she doesn't want to see him turning into a mindless marionette of the corrupt Moon Presence, and Ludwig saying he doesn't want to see him becoming an abomination to what humanity entails. They are both unaware that their respective Great Ones are both puppeteers convincing them that the opposing side is the 'evil' one, but I think it'd be really bittersweet if they could see each other among all this madness. Never had a place in the canon, though.

Izzy x Valtr: Doomed ship, do not take as real ship in any way. Based on Izzy having "joined" the League because she realised that Valtr knows some secret about the very nature of humanity that she doesn't. But, during her stay, she might have tried to flirt with him.

Izzy x Maria: Izzy of course started off as an Old Hunter of Gehrman's type, not as a hunter of the type that started with Ludwig and the Healing Church. So, back then, Izzy, Gratia and Maria were the only hunters of the type. But Izzy would surprisingly develop much more affection towards Maria than towards some other Old Hunter, fascinated by her complexity, combination of strength and wits, combination of masculinity and femininity. It is both seeing a kindred spirit in Maria and still wanting to get to know what is unique about her that would fascinate Izzy. To think of it, I guess Izzy's attraction had place in 'official' timeline; but Maria was opposing beasthood like a normal hunter is supposed to, so it was doomed.

8) Made-up connections with other characters that weren't in the canon (friends, enemies, whatever)

Ludwig - Like I said, they ended up being marionettes of the antagonistic Great Ones. Well... Izzy is less so of a marionette; Fauna suggests freedom. But that still brought her to care about her beloathed. Izzy thinks he is a complete idiot, but not an idiot by his fault, and hopes to one day see him admitting corrupt and through and through unfair governance of the Moon Presence. She just sees he is not a bad man in the slightest, and simply got tempted by the goals and ideals that can never be fulfilled.

Laurence - Now, THIS man she doesn't pity or root for the same way as Ludwig. Izzy can grasp that Laurence is aware what game he is playing and what God he is making deals with. Therefore, she feels anger and disdain towards him, ready to hold him accountable for everything. Izzy thinks he is a goddamn idiot that never could listen for a good advice and can only be FORCED to act right.... well, she is right, I guess...

Micolash - Izzy positively doesn't understand the guy... Well, until he can see that Micolash, likewise, has a link with a Great One who knows things way beyond normal human realm and what's sacred or cursed for them. Izzy finds strange solidarity with him despite having a slight respectful fear towards him (seeing what he does with animals was enough). Although 'where there is no sea, is dwelling of beasts', Kos and Fauna are nonetheless the deities antagonistic to the order of the Moon Presence, even if in different ways. Izzy does value Micolash as his own person though, he thinks Micolash is a powerful and independent spirit that will shape history likewise... It is just that rather than feeling true allyship, they are connected only on the virtue of 'enemy of my enemy is my friend'. Micolash doesn't feel the same, though - he has a great disdain towards "beastly idiocy". However, Izzy he finds a great aid; a great guardian, even, so he is willing to tolerate him.

Archibald - Ah, yeeeeah, this one. It is not canon, despite how obvious connection of the two people studying Darkbeasts should be xD I just think they could find a lot in common, and even both meet in Yahar'gul as fellow people denying Healing Church's restrictions. Who would spit on every "sacred" rule just to continue the one thing TRULY sacred for them - the research. Archibald finds Izzy's ways a bit extreme though, believing that beasthood is a useful thing to conquer, rather than the answer for humanity's troubles. As result, they have debates often, and Izzy at times accuses him of being a 'coward' that is not willing to abandon the subtle comfort of civilisation for the true knowledge. They are still of very respectable opinion of each other nonetheless, and are true friends.

Fauna - At some point, Izzy was nearly banished to never return from the dungeons for her revolutionary opinions and questions. Healing Church feared the apostates, and feared that they'd sabotage their progress before they could find a way to make everything work. But she found her way in Loran ruins, and had heart and mind open enough to comprehend the message of freedom and true light Fauna was trying to deliver. Long slaughtered by the hero that first forged Holy Moonlight Sword, Fauna lived on only in spirit, and found comfort in being able to continue his ideas through Izzy. She was the only one able to hear his calling in a while and not reject it. Izzy respects Fauna greatly, and can see clearly that out of the two antagonistic Great Ones, not he was the bad guy; he was willing to bring humanity the light of bolt and fire that lets them seek their own way, as opposed to the light of stars and moon, that had its own way planned for every mortal. Fauna, however, sees himself as the 'true' God and as the one worthy to be above Flora and beyond; therefore, trusting him is a risky activity as well. Besides, Fauna suggests the law of survival of the fittest; although one has a freedom, they simply become food for the stronger ones if they are not strong enough to hold this freedom. Izzy simply happens to see more reasoning in his plans for humanity, though.

Henryk, Garlan and Zacharia - Garlan is my name for Afflicted Beggar, yeah! Zacharia is the father of both Henryk and Garlan, the NPC in Bloodborne that has 'Night of celebration!' voice line. Like I said before, Izzy would be the one to accept Garlan for who he is and to help him to train his transformation and impulses. But, she would also strike a great friendship with Zacharia! Henryk, though... Yeah, he always resented how tainted his family was, and thanked every god he believed in that he came out 'clean' from Loran lineage. But he hated himself for not being able to protect Valtr from her sneaky plan, and probably hates himself for it even in death.

Valtr - Izzy noticed he knew something that she didn't, watching him extracting something she could not see from the bodies of his fallen foes and laughing maniacally. So, she used all her actor/actress skills to act on his good side, so she was able to learn his unique rune and see his idea of humans' evil. It was a giant breakthrough for her comprehending the very nature of humanity, and instead of killing Vermin, Izzy started to study it. Albeit limited perspective, but Valtr's vision was good enough, and Izzy forever developed centipede tendrils and legs.

Yamamura - They only met when Izzy completed his transformation into a beast. The storm-bringing beast Izzy, who was a noodle dragon eager to spread will of Fauna across the world via his spark magic. Upon complete transformation, his goal was the faraway land. Izzy managed to place the seed of confusion and detraction in Yamamura's land, but he still killed many people and destroyed many villages. That Yamamura could not forgive, so he chased him for a long while, having harmed him bad enough to not be able to fly that fast and that long. Izzy still had his hunter hat attached to one of his horns; and when Yamamura finally killed him, offered Valtr's Whirligig Saw for it, he got Izzy's former hunter hat as a trophy. However, there was some work to be done, to remove the traces of former blue ribbon, and to patch up the hole from the horn. In the end, the two never knew each other beyond just a beast and just a future hunter, but Izzy did speak his final words, saying it was too late and Yamamura's village was to inevitably witness the truth...

9) Headcanons about their past

Like I said, Izzy was raised 'like a man', in a pretty violent and unforgiving environment. In a strange way, it was an act of protection, in a heavily sexist environment where a woman was an incubator to birth more warriors at least, a useless waste of resources to be killed at worst. Izzy grew in the mindset that 'one gender is more equal than another', that further influenced her life decisions, but in a different way; she wished to abolish such inequality.

Izzy was quickly driven to the Old Hunters faction, who encouraged: they did not care about one's preferences or upbringing. For them, one being able to kill was enough, regardless of the way they choose. This kind of autonomy was all Izzy really wanted - a place to be free at as herself, as long as she could KILL. That Izzy already was good at... However, she didn't quite buy how Hunters and Healing Church cooperated, and how many things they prohibited. She was asking too many questions, trying too weird tools... As result, she was sentenced to no less but to be forcibly held in the dungeons until she'd 'understand her behaviour'. When upon her return, they offered her peace, Izzy's answer was simple - "When you leave someone in the darkness, be careful to ensure they never learn to SEE in it!"

Izzy hit several violent conflicts with Laurence (basically the fire wizard) and Ludwig (basically the Moon paladin), over proposing the will of a certain deity. But, she brought the seed of the doubt upon enough of people. Some of them still search all over Loran in order to find the same enlightenment she found, such as Joseph.

She learned her father was dead through third parties, and was very devastated. She had a word with him, about falling for the corrupted and unfair order of his society and culture, about forcing her to grow in a certain way, about being a 'coward'. She always felt and will feel bitter towards him for not being as strong as her; because her style is to curse the whole world but stand for what is right... And her father was... well, not that. She considered asking Micolash for his necromancer magic multiple times, to bring her father back and have a word with him, too.

10) Content about them I'd like to see more of

LITERALLY ANYTHING. I honestly do not understand how came this character was only worthy of consideration in like... what? 2017-2018? And then forgotten into nothingness? Like... You all have a beast mom/dad/gender-neutral, and you just gloss over it? Feels weird for me xD We should collectively bring back the tradition of making a fully fleshed-out character out of Bloodborne's namedrop!

But yeah, that's it for this character! Thank you for asking, though! Blegh... I honestly have a design for Izzy's armour and stages as a character in my head, I really wish I could share them right here. But... yeah, alas, drawing a full on fanart will take some time.

#bloodborne #ask replies #irreverent izzy #bloodborne headcanons #izzy is such an interesting character #one of the very first ones i started to flesh out actually #she had some progress as a character yeah #but yeah....#again it is not the same way as marika/radagon of course #those two have some sort of splitting personality #izzy tho is always izzy just with 'sliders' moving if you see what i mean

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allinmycorner · 2 years

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Welcome back to Dancing With the Stars Week 3! Grab a martini - shaken, not stirred - and enjoy as our contestants celebrate 60 years of everyone's favorite spy, James Bond.

Who rose to the occasion and who struggled with the assignment?

Let's find out!

Cheryl and Louis: Cheryl bounced back with her rumba to "Diamonds are Forever" but it was not enough to save her. As much fun as she was to watch and as much as she is a TV legend, she just didn't have the same consistency that Sam did. And so I understand why she went home. I do hope we get Louis back in a future season. We didn't get to enjoy his return long enough.

Charli and Mark: Charli continues to dominate the competition. She was a little uncomfortable with the sensuality of the rumba but with Mark's help, she managed to embrace it as she danced to "No Time to Die." She really set the tone for the tribute to James Bond.

Gabby and Val: Gabby closed out the show, bookending the night with Charli as they got the same exact score. She channeled her inner Halle Berry for her cha-cha to "Die Another Day" and continued her streak. I've basically started to tune out her interviews and just focus on her dancing. She, Charli and Wayne are still neck-in-neck-in-neck. One of them is going to have to start pulling away soon or this season might start to get a little boring with the repetition.

Wayne and Witney: Wayne also continues to be one of the best contestants here. He and Witney nailed their tango to the James Bond theme (which I learned is called "The Name is Bond...James Bond"). I really can't wait to see him perform a freestyle. I know he'll be amazing at it.

Heidi and Artem: The Argentine tango is always a fan favorite. And I'll admit it's a favorite of mine as well. Heidi and Artem danced one to "No Time to Die" and they brought the sex-factor we all associate with the James Bond franchise. I think Bruno said it best - Mom's coming for Charli. Heidi is starting to pull away from the rest of the pack, which is a good thing. Hopefully she can keep this up.

Daniel and Britt: Daniel was understandably nervous about dancing the rumba to "The World is Not Enough." This was his first slow song and he feared that he would not be able to feel the beat. But Britt worked with him and he danced as if he could hear the music. His rumba was graceful, fluid and sensual. He's likely Wayne's competition on the men's side. And we've seen Nyle dance his way to victory. Maybe Daniel will follow his steps as well.

Shangela and Gleb: This was also Shangela's first slow dance. Her personality is certainly suited for the faster dances so it was going to be interesting to see how she handled the rumba to "GoldenEye". And she handled it pretty well. As with everyone, there are plenty of things she needs to work on but I think she's on a good path. If she stays on it, she will succeed. And judging from the footage of rehearsals both Shangela and DJ (as Gleb called him) have the drive to do just that.

Jordin and Brandon: Jordin and Brandon had a better outing with their rumba to "License to Kill." It's fun to watch their friendship and it's translating to their work on the floor. If she has more of these types of routines, she could start to climb even higher on the leaderboard.

Joseph and Alexis: Alexis danced with Joseph for one more week because she spent the time in training with him. But Daniella has now tested negative and should be able to return next week. Still Alexis made a good case for her eventual promotion from troupe to pro with this Argentine tango to "Writing's on the Wall." Continued kudos to Joseph for making the adjustment between Daniella and Alexis. That's a very good sign along with his continued growth. He might be the slow and steady contestant who could win it all. We'll just have to see how the next couple weeks go for him.

Selma and Sasha: Selma talked about how some of the aspects of the live performances gave her a stimulation overload, which affected her condition. So since they were dancing to "For Your Eyes Only," Sasha decided to blindfold her. Selma had to rely on her other senses and she still did beautifully in her rumba. Maybe more dancers should be blindfolded while dancing. Either way, this was a wonderful tribute to her mother, who loved James Bond and would watch the movies with Selma.

Trevor and Emma: Trevor didn't do as well score-wise this week. But he did do well in the tango and had a great intensity in his face while dancing. Some contestants would kill for that ability. One of the judges called him a possible dark horse and I do agree with that sentiment. Trevor could certainly come from behind to take it all if he keeps improving and following Emma's guidance. Also, how cute was she trying to surf in their package? (PS: Their song was "You Know My Name").

Jessie and Alan: Jessie really committed to her character for this dance and allowed herself to be painted for her rumba to "Goldfinger." I don't really recall much of her dance now except for the fact she was gold and that's probably not a good sign. The judges seem mixed on her and I think her saving grace is that there are weaker dancers still in the competition. But she can't rely on that for much longer.

Sam and Cheryl: I'm not too surprised Sam ended up in the bottom two. Samba is hard and Sam struggled with it. He did his best but given many of the other performances, it just wasn't good enough. And then I'm not sure if he is still recognizable enough for people to want to vote for him. Hopefully he can shake it off and rebound next week after being saved by the judges.

Vinny and Koko: Vinny has really uneven so far. Last week he was Most Improved, this week his rumba to "Thunderball" was a mess again. Maybe the pressure is too much for him. But he and Koko are going to need to find something that works. Right now, he seems to have the votes to keep him but who knows how much longer that will last.

Next time is Disney (Plus) Night. See you all then!

#dancing with the stars #ABC #season 31 #cheryl ladd #louis van amstel

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