#anyway i'm very zen right now

[loguetowns]

to be young

roronoa zoro x reader

your boyfriend thinks he's got jokes

"let's burn it down" + zoro for anon

1.5k words

a/n: it's fluff with very minimal plot (like absolutely none). also slightly ooc zoro? he's very lovey dovey and i'm not sorry about it

zoro knows he was a pain in the ass as a child. dragging his feet to do chores, loud-mouthing all the older kids, challenging kuina day and night for just one more battle - he knows he was a brat.

and, now, at the ripe age of 21, he likes to think that he's grown out of his childish ways. he's mature, seasoned by the hardships of adulthood - a promising young man, if you will.

"ha!" zoro snickers, "i made you look."

"you're so lame," you groan. "i don't know how you tricked me into thinking you were some playboy."

you knock his hand out of your face, but (like the playboy he is) in one smooth motion, he locks his fingers with yours.

"no tricks," he flashes you a grin reminiscent of your first meeting in that hole-in-the-wall bar. "a man can be both, you know?"

"don't i know it," you mumble. yet, for all your grumbling, there's a bashful smile tugging at the corner of your lips that reminds zoro of the moments before he kissed you in that hole-in-the-wall bar.

"anyway," you ignore the look of triumph on zoro's face. "as i was saying, that's my elementary school over there."

against the crimson sky, zoro follows your finger and spies a schoolhouse in the horizon. your other hand is still holding his, swinging in rhythm to his pace.

"that dinky little thing? can you even call that a school?"

"okay, not all of us grew up in a dojo with zen gardens and..." you motion in the air. "-and... meditation grounds."

zoro has to laugh at what you've come up with. his laughter bounces against the cobblestone streets, landing in every spot marked by the setting sun.

"meditation grounds?" he repeats. you scowl. "we didn't have any of those."

"no objections to the zen gardens, i see," you huff.

"they were nice! and i know you liked them. i heard you tell ol' man shimotsuki they were pretty," he pokes your cheek and you swat him away.

"well, here in this li'l town, we don't have any zen gardens but we do have a playground behind the church."

at this point, the schoolhouse has come into view, framed by the aforementioned church. it's got stained-glass windows that glimmer (like your eyes when you laugh) and there are flowers lining the fence (rosy like your cheeks when you blush).

around the back, zoro can spot the essentials of a playground - slide, swings, seesaw, and a carousel that looks like it's seen better days.

"oh, that's... nice."

"thanks for your enthusiasm, baby."

"you know what? you're welcome," he grins.

his sarcasm earns him one of your signature eye rolls, the one that says you're so annoying. and he responds with a devilish smile that says i know, but you love me.

carrying on, you motion towards the playground at the back of the church. "see that carousel? it flung me off this one time and i broke my knee."

he tries to picture a tiny you — baby fat in your cheeks, in a mismatched outfit, holding onto your bloody knee on the concrete. knowing how much of a crybaby you are now, he knows that you were probably bawling when it happened.

he wonders vaguely if you were also cursed with an ugly childhood haircut and snickers at the thought of it. unfortunate hair or not, he's sure of one thing — you must've been the most darling little kid.

"that's terrible," zoro tries not to laugh. "what a shitty thing for a carousel to do."

"right? i was so traumatized, that was the last time i ever rode it."

"should we teach it a lesson?"

the last time you saw zoro teach anybody a lesson, it ended with a bloody nose and a black eye. so it's with much confusion that you turn towards him with a knitted brow.

"what are you on about?"

"the carousel."

"what about it?"

"let's burn it down."

"burn it down," you repeat with an exasperated sigh and a loving smile. "are you crazy?"

he throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. instinct has you tucking into him and, enveloped in his warmth and the scent of steel and mint soap, you find shelter in the spot next to his heart.

"crazy for you maybe," he says with a kiss on your head. "you know what could be fun though? we could go full scorched earth and burn the whole playground down."

"as romantic as arson sounds, i don't want to be complicit in your crimes."

"you're dating a pirate. fraternizing with a criminal doesn't exactly make you innocent."

you turn to zoro, looking up at him with your best doe-eyed look and the cutest pout you can muster (he almost kisses you right then and there in the middle of the square).

"but i'm too cute to go to jail."

that much is true, and zoro knows it more than anyone. you're cute when you're shy, cute when you're happy, and cute even when you're mad. in fact, how adorable you are is the one thing that zoro and that stupid cook can agree upon.

but your darling little heart belongs to him and he'll do anything to keep it in his hands - even if it means jail.

"i'd bail you out though," he rests his chin on your head.

"with what money?"

"hmm, good point. can i borrow some money?"

"are you gonna pay me back?"

"of course, i would never go back on my word."

"how good is the word of a dirty pirate though?"

zoro fakes an offended look, "i shower every day."

"mm, even so," you tap a finger against your chin, as if you're in deep consideration of your options. "i'll loan you the money but you'll have to pay interest."

"who's the crook now?" he chuckles. "okay, so what's the damage?"

"10 kisses per day," you declare. "compounding."

"easy. i'll even pay in advance for ya."

and before you can protest, zoro starts peppering every inch of your loveable face with kisses. he kisses you on your forehead and your cheek and your nose and along your jawline, ignoring your squeals and giggles. you couldn't even escape if you wanted too; he has you tight in his embrace, effectively trapped.

"stop!" you laugh. "i don't want your cooties."

"liar," he growls between kisses. "you want me so bad."

his barrage is relentless, lips brushing skin, as he gently edges you towards the corner around the back of the church. you land against the wall with a soft thud, cushioned by zoro's arms that are holding you so dear.

then, you sigh against him — a shy, little moan in the shadows — and, in this spot away from prying eyes, a switch flips inside him.

surely, he's exceeded his hypothetical debt but how could he stop now? not when his lips finally find yours, and his teasing turns into hunger for your cherry sweet kisses. he cages you between his arms, hands against cold stone, bracing himself as he takes more of you and gives more of himself.

"hah- zoro..."

he responds by leaving a trail of sweet nothings as he travels down to your neck, little confessions of love left on your skin. your hands travel up his arms and the way your fingertips kiss his skin leaves him dizzy.

but then, you suddenly break away and look over his shoulder with a quiet gasp and wide eyes. like an experienced fighter, zoro reacts with protective instinct.

"what? what's wrong?" he whips around but all he sees is an empty playground. hand still on his swords, he turns back toward you — only now you have a mischievous sparkle in your eye and a devious smile.

"made ya look," you cackle.

zoro's shoulders relax, but the absence of a real threat doesn't let you off the hook. he rounds on you, chuckling darkly.

"oh, you are so gonna get it."

and then the tickles start.

you squeal and he laughs, and you are both so, so in love. hiding away from the rest of the world, you giggle and kiss like two teenagers making out for the first time. zoro smiles against you as he appreciates the delightful irony of it all.

zoro's a fearsome pirate with a schoolboy crush and a love that leaves him with butterflies that he'll never admit to — but you know it anyway.

just like how you know his tough side, his soft side, his immature and kiddy side that still snickers when nami trips. the fact that you adore him for all these different parts means more to him than you'll ever know.

and whether zoro's a pain in the ass or not, a kid or an old man, 21 or 81 years old, he hopes that the way he feels about you will forever be timeless.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro fluff #zoro fluff #one piece x reader #¡! ❞ [ fics ] #¡! ❞ [ req ] #another drop in the overflowing bucket of zoro fics that spawned post-opla #thank u mackenyu for being everyone's muse #i still love animanga!zoro sm tho ugh baby boy my love

[thatfreshi]

"Unlucky Draw" (Uni AU p. 15)

There's finally some fluff guys!!!!!!!!!

tw - anxiety, discussion of weed

Since Halsin's little break-up escapade happened, you actually do get the chance to see Astarion later that night. As of recent, he's been throwing himself into his thesis project more and more, to the point where most of your time hanging is spent with him looking through books and asking 'do you think this sounds right?'

"You know you can take a break, right?"

"I could, you're right, but then I'd just be wasting time. And I'm not allotted much time to work on this."

The two of you are comfortably sprawled across his mattress, like teenagers at a sleepover. You roll over and shut his laptop.

"C'mon, you've been staring at that paper for like two hours."

"And what else should I do, my darling Tav? Maybe stare at the ceiling in silence? Or scroll mindlessly on my phone until I don't feel like moving anymore?"

"Ugh, no! I don't know, take a coffee break. You're probably not going to sleep anyways."

Your best friend almost looks peaceful like this, wrapped in a cozy sweater and sweatpants, always wearing long socks because he gets cold too easily. You find yourself lingering on the thought longer than normal, wishing he could feel that comfortable warmth all the time, wondering it might be like to share in it.

"Tav, are you listening? God, maybe we should just stare at the ceiling in silence."

"Sorry, just spacing out. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, how I should probably cut back on the caffeine."

"Really? Astarion Barista Ancunín, are you turning your back on your beloved espresso machine?"

"Look, I'm not happy about it, but I've been far too anxious as of late. My nerves are on fire constantly, jumping at every little noise I hear. It's irritating, to say the least."

"I thought being caffeinated was how you dealt with the insomnia though?"

"Oh it very much is, which will become a problem soon enough, but I just can't be this nervous constantly."

It's something that you've definitely noticed, how quiet and fidgety he's become recently.

"You considered smoking weed? I know Gale says it helps him zen out, especially when it comes to art stuff."

"Nope, makes me paranoid."

"Damn, unlucky draw I guess."

"You're telling me. I smoked one time back in high school, couldn't sleep for hours, kept thinking someone was out to get me or something."

You start to get lost in the peace of the moment again, the fact that you're able to talk about shit that doesn't matter, how the light from the bedside lamp hits his eyes just right...

"Are you alright? You seem, out of it."

"Sorry, just thinking about what Halsin said to me."

"I can't believe he just broke things off like that, without a reason."

You swallow hard.

"He, he said it's because he thinks you like me? And that he doesn't want to get in the way of that?"

There's silence for a moment, that you jump to fill.

"But that's not true right? We're just friends, I don't know where he would've gotten that idea from."

"Right, I don't know either... sounds like you dodged a bullet with him."

"Yeah, probably so."

God, has he always looked like this? Damn Halsin, damn all those things he said, damn Gale for even playing into it. You remind yourself that Astarion's right, that this doesn't need to get any more complicated than it already is, that he has enough on his plate.

"Now, am I allowed to go back to my thesis now? Or do I need to have more mandatory break time?"

You playfully sigh.

"I guess you can do productive things or whatever."

"Well, in that case would you like to come read what I have?"

"I'll look at it, but you have the cool narrator voice, you have to read it to be like a professional author."

He rolls his eyes, and you go to sit next to him, looking at the thousands of words he's typed at this point. Astarion starts to read it out loud, editing tiny things as he goes, forever a little perfectionist. After a while, the voice becomes too soothing, and you fall asleep there next to him, letting your head hit his shoulder.

"Tav?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you knocked out, clearly exhausted. He doesn't stop reading though, worried if he does that he'll somehow ruin the sleep he's let you stumble into. So he spends the rest of the night rereading out loud and talking to himself, occasionally asking you things that you don't answer. After many hours pass, and the wee hours of the morning arrive, along with the clock turning to say five AM, he puts his laptop aside, and asks you one final question.

"Why do you insist on pulling my heartstrings the way you do?"

And it falls on your sleeping ears, never truly getting through.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff #x reader #freshiau #gale of waterdeep #halsin

[not-poignant]

Im really sorry if this is too personal please ignore me if it is but i saw your post just at the right time and im just, im struggling in my twenties at the thought of possibly having did right now. And you say you "used to", can i ask how you healed?

A lot of therapy, anon.

It does tend to show up in someone's 20s, and I went the path of Internal Family Systems Therapy (also known as IFS or IFST) which is extremely useful alongside the three C's (Compassion, Communication, Co-Consciousness).

I wasn't aiming to eliminate any alters, and anyone who wanted to stay as a separate alter could, but I taught myself through the help of other/s to be self-compassionate, to open up opportunities and methods for communication (which also included art, writing, journalling, etc. in fact the very first tumblr that 'I' ever made was actually made by an alter, and was originally called artforartists - it's now renamed and run by 'me' because Dani has absorbed back into the system, but you can still go to the earliest entries and see her in them.

It took a few years and I didn't rush things. The main thing to know is that while it feels extreme, it usually comes about as a reasonable response to an unreasonable situation, and it usually becomes very manageable with self-compassion (to all yourselves), impartial judgement, open communication, compromise (i.e. if you have an alter that wants to play video games 24/7 to the point that you're losing weeks of memory, find out small areas of compromise where they can be given something in exchange for something), and sharing consciousness where possible (co-consciousness).

It's very scary at first but imho for me personally, it has been the 'easiest' of all of my diagnosed disorders to deal with. I still have severe treatment-resistant depression and I still have severe treatment-resistant PTSD/C-PTSD, but my DID went into remission after about 4 targeted years of therapy. It's now DDNOS (Dissociative Disorder Not Otherwise Specified) which means I don't have the symptoms enough to qualify for DID anymore, but I still have a system prone to dissociation / derealisation / depersonalisation and I have days where some alters are fronting a bit more than the central self, but I usually just use it as a sign that I'm really stressed and overwhelmed, rather than a sign that there's something wrong with me.

I'm extremely zen about it, tbh. And look, I didn't have the goal of 'absorbing' my alters (or them dying or w/e), I didn't set out with the idea of getting rid of it so much as learning how to live with different people who have different opinions about things in my head. But through the course of IFST and giving everyone a voice, that started to happen anyway. Healing doesn't always mean 'getting rid of alters' it mostly just means getting a handle on the memory loss (which is the most severe part of the disorder for me) and the polarisation so that it becomes regular dissonance and not so distressing it causes someone to switch. A person can be fully healed from DID and still have alters that front, if there's co-consciousness and communication for example. This was actually what I was aiming for, it just didn't end up being my outcome.

You may not be able to access therapy or IFST, and it can be hard to find DID-friendly therapists who know what they're doing, but you can actually look up and explore IFST on places like Instagram and in books like No Bad Parts and start doing the work gently already. (IFST isn't just or only for DID patients, but it is uniquely very well suited to them).

It can be very scary at first, anon, to think you might have this. Because it's a highly stigmatised and misunderstood disorder. At its root it can be understood as 'a child who didn't understand how to cope with something, at the time of personality formation, just developed a new personality to deal with it. But as a result of this, their brain got so good at developing new personalities that it became a maladapted coping strategy, and as an adult they can learn ways to cope that aren't splitting, switching, or losing memory with compassion and self-understanding.'

And honestly we all have a lot of maladapted coping mechanisms and the whole journey of life is learning to unpack them, and repack some healthier coping mechanisms into the lunchbox. And that's really about it. Still very scary and upsetting to go through, but also not a mysterious, "insane" thing. <3333 If you can reach out for help, please consider it, but otherwise do look into IFST. I started working on those strategies long before I found a suitable therapist and I honestly feel like just the mindset of radical self-acceptance and self-compromise and self-compassion was - while extremely hard to do often - the key for me, and some of those things will at the very least be helpful for you.

#asks and answers #personal #there's a lot more resources now for DID than their used to be #but there's also a lot more self-exploitation for likes and clout #just admitting you're worried something dissociative might be going on #is very brave and you're already on the path to healing anon #even though it doesn't feel like it yet

[allthingsfern]

Why I have not been taking many new photos

So, in about a couple of weeks, I will be getting my cataract surgery for my right eye. As it is now, my right eye is kinda clouded over. I can still bike ride and drive, for example, but when I was at the ophthalmologist's office the last two times, the young man who takes images of the inside of my eye could not capture the back of my right eye because the cataract is so thick, so he had to use some kind of ultrasound thing they do? Anyway, it is very difficult for me to take photographs through the viewfinder because the camera, like all cameras, is pretty much set up for right-handed use. I can look through my left eye, but it is uncomfortable for taking pictures, so I stopped a while back, unless I could take my time and take the pictures at home. And yes, I could take pictures using the screen on the back of the camera, but it is not very bright, and for most light conditions it's just not something I'm comfortable with.

I have not, however, stopped working on photography, since I have been going back through my files and reworking some photographs, as well as going through Tumblr and liking and sharing photos on Lux Lit. Plus, I never stop watching YouTube videos and/or reading online articles and I started reading Margaret Bourke-White's autobiography, so yeah, I am doing photography, just not taking pictures.

My second surgery, BTW, will be a few days before Christmas.

I am not very nervous about my upcoming surgeries, because, in great part, I trust my ophthalmologist. He takes the time to explain everything, and he has a sense of humor about the whole thing, which helps me immensely. Also, my sisters, well, my oldest sister (she is the second born, after me) and her best friend are coming to stay with me to help me through my first surgery. They will be here for five days. Then for my surgery on my left eye, a very close friend (coincidentally, the guy who sold me the used Nikon D50 that started me back on photography and a great photographer himself) and his wife volunteered to take me in at their place to make certain everything goes smoothly.

Why am I sharing this? Well, I remember several years ago, when my kit lens for my D50 broke (BTW, the only lens I owned for that camera), that someone who followed me back then mentioned they could not think of themselves not taking pictures often, if not daily. Back then I actually went about 2 months without taking pictures before I wound up buying a used lens that worked beautifully. Since then, I have learned to very calmly accept periods of not making pictures, in great part, because as I mentioned above, I still keep doing photography, which means reworking old images, looking at all y'alls photos on Tumblr and sharing some of them on Lux Lit, and learning about photography via articles and YouTube videos and such. Oh yeah, and every so often talking to photographers I know about our beloved art form. For me, not taking pictures, not making pictures is still a part of the creative process, if one where I don't necessarily "create stuff." I've learned to have a very Zen attitude towards it all.

Kinda like life.

[ticklygiggles]

Can I ask Zen (Mystic messenger) x reader, romantic 🧚‍♂️✨ I just love him so much and I miss him 😞

Thank you so much, no pressure! Love your blog <33

[You & I event - entries closed!]

A/N: Thank you very muuuch! I'm happy you enjoy my blog hehe. And omg I miss the mystic boys so much too! I've been wanting to play again, but mystic is so draining omg. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

Words: 1k+

You weren't the jealous type. You knew perfectly well that Zen had many fans who loved him unconditionally, whether it was because of his talent or his beauty or both. You loved Zen too, not just for what everyone saw, but also for everything he really was. His fears and insecurities, his joys, dreams and goals, you had the joy of enjoying that and more. It was simply unnecessary to feel jealous when you had a Zen that no one knew. 

But you were also human and, famous or not, Zen was your beloved boyfriend, so maybe it was normal to feel a little jealous from time to time, right? Especially when certain ladies had no shame. 

It was a little cold that day, but you and Zen decided to have a small picnic on his day off. Zen was excited, it had been a long time since he had the opportunity to enjoy a whole day with you and you were too. You had missed him and you hoped to enjoy that picnic until the last moment. 

Everything was going well. Zen had decided that the theme of your picnic would be autumn, your outfits matched, and the coffee was still hot. Many photos had been taken and there was still time before leaving. Everything was perfect, until you noticed a group of girls sitting right next to you two.

At first you didn't care about it, you had a lot of other things to do with your boyfriend, but after a while, you couldn't help but notice the furtive glances they were giving to Zen. Their eyes shone when they saw him and they giggled like silly girls, whispering who knows what to each other. 

Maybe because you hadn't spent quality time with Zen in a while, these girls' behavior made you a little angry. And that possessive side that usually didn't come out, vibrated inside you. It was pretty obvious that you and Zen were in a relationship, but if these ladies didn't realize it, then you were more than happy to show them. 

"You look so handsome today," you said, loud enough for the girls to hear you. "These colors really suit you."

Zen looked at you with bright eyes, the most adorable blush spreading across his cheeks. "A-Ah, jagiya, you already said that! You just want to make me feel shy, don't you?" He giggled shyly, covering his beautiful smile with one of his hands. 

You smiled tenderly, grabbing his hand and chuckling when the ladies gasped. 

"I'm just telling the truth, Zenny. You are so handsome, how can I be so lucky to date someone like you?"

Zen laughed, his fair skin getting more pink as he held your hand back. "N-Nohow, why are you acting like this? Do you want my face to explode? Really, you!" He hid his smile with his free hand and you pouted. 

"Why do you keep hiding your smile, hmm?" You reached out to squeeze his side, making him squeal as he brought his arm down. "I want to see it!" You said, squeezing him again. 

"Ahahaha! J-Jagiyahah! Stohop teheasing me! You know I'm very ticklish!"

Your cheeks flushed. Oh, how could he be so adorable?! He would basically brush it off whenever someone complimented him, but if you did, he would become a blushy, giggly mess like this. 

You almost forgot that you were putting on a show for your spectators, you smirked, letting go of Zen's hand to grab his thin waist, making him squeak and giggle brightly as you started tickling him. 

"Ah, you certainly are very ticklish, huh? I think it just slipped my mind!" 

"N-Nohoho! Hohohonehehey! This ihihis unfahahair!" He giggled, trying to fight your tickly hands, but failing miserably as he fell on his back against the beautiful blanket under you both. 

"This is your fault, Zenny. You were hiding your precious smile from me! Now, I deserve to see it." Your hands traveled to his ribs and he kicked his legs with a cackle. 

"Not thehehere, nohohot there! You've seheheheen my s-smihihile!" He grabbed your arms, weakly pushing at them. "Nohohot my rihihibs plehehease!"

You giggled at his reaction. You were being gentle, just squeezing and poking here and there, but Zen was simply too ticklish for his own good. Agh, you needed to take a picture of his cute laughing face! 

"I have, indeed, but now I want to see it even more! Should I tickle you up here?" 

Zen shrieked when one of your hands moved higher, from his ribs towards his armpit. He pressed his arms tightly to his sides, not wanting to give you any space to climb to his weakest spot.

Zen shook his head, laughing nearly hysterically. "Plehehease! Anywhehehere but thehehere! Y-You knohohow I cahan get pretty lohohoud! Plehehease, Jahagiyaha!" 

You laughed, moving your hands back down to tickle his ribs. "Stop being so cute! You'll make me want to tickle you even more!" 

"I'll dihihihie!" 

Despise your words, your fingers actually slowed down until they stopped completely, and as Zen caught his breath, you leaned down and captured his lips in a kiss. He had to pull apart quickly, however, feeling breathless after laughing so much.

"You okay, baby?" You ask softly, brushing his bangs back. "Do you need some water? Let me just- haah! Z-Zen!"

You squeaked in surprise when Zen suddenly grabbed your waist and changed positions, now him hovering you with a wide smirk. You gulped, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

"Now, silly baby, don't think I didn't notice you were doing all of that because those girls were looking at us."

You quickly looked over at the girls and were surprised when you found they were gone! You had completely forgotten about them while you were tickling Zen! How disappointing. 

You huffed, trying to ignore the heat covering your cheeks as you looked back at him. "They were look at you and, I remind you, you are mine." 

His cheeks surely turned red and he stuttered a bit before he spoke again: "O-Of course I'm yours! And that's why you don't have to feel jealous! You're acting silly and for that…" 

"N-Nohohahaha! I'm sorry! I'm sohohohorry!" 

Zen chucked, "oh, yes you will very sorry right after I'm done with you!" 

You deserved it, but it didn't matter, Zen could tickle you until he was satisfied because at the end of the day, he was yours and you were his! 

#mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger tickling #zen #Hyun Ryu #Zen x Reader #ticklish!Zen #and a biiit of #ticklish!Reader #tickle fic #you & I event #mia's things

[lovelacefc7723]

After watching the preview episode of the re-cap show, my first thought is actually a confirmation of something I believe for awhile now, and it's that in my opinion Tobin & Christen truly are in a different phase of their life now. They've changed, right in front of our eyes, they have built this whole other work reality that no longer NEEDS to be connected with the field, they are beyond. I'm not saying they're retiring tomorrow (even though I think they WILL do it very soon), I just feel they have found their dimension elsewhere. And it's deeply beautiful.

I noticed just how GOOD they are despite this being their first experience in this kind of projects. I remember Tobin's first videos for the company, about her art, and she didn't even look at the camera. Since becoming co-ceo, and maybe since stepping up after Pinoe's silent exit, she kinda found this new confidence. She joins events and promotional works by herself that before she would have attended only with Christen, or not attended at all.

Now she produces and hosts a show, and she's funny, charming, thoughtful, wonderfully loud when she laughs and freely honest when she speaks.

Even the choice of their first guest is pretty revealing. It actually tells how little we know about their lives and their relationships. That's why I usually talk about opinions and impressions, because that's all we have.

And exactly about my opinion about their new phase of their life, I think Ellis and Christen probably might have talked about things at some point. And not about her tactical choices but about her silence when Christen tried to expose Dames' toxic behaviour. It's not something you just ignore and sit together to joke, laugh and talk Football.

The interview was actually really brilliant and honest. I think Tobin took the lead because anyway she had a different relationship with Ellis but also it really seemed more her space, she has always had a complete vision of football, tactically and strategically. That's why it seemed she really talked Ellis' language. And it was deeply fascinating, curious and educative.

I'm not gonna deny that listening to Ellis actually talking about football and about her choices was truly interesting. Despite all her personal mistakes, I think she really knows her job, and she knows how to do it. I never heard Vlatko having such professional insights and I really admired him before, when I still had not realized he has no idea how to manage team and players and he doesn't really care about them either.

Ellis was pretty honest about her tactical decisions, I don't know if she would do exactly the same now, especially with Christen. But I still love how equally honest Christen was with her. The quote "I'd let you babysit my daughter but I don't think I'll play you in this game" is not really a joke and both of them know it. But it was a moment of Truth.

I think Ellis appreciated and appreciates Christen both as person and player, she made a choice, a debatable one, but still hers. And Christen faced her for it. But in the end I liked to see that she still considered her time playing for Ellis as a learning experience, it puts everything in perspective.

I always thought Christen was way much more than the sweet and zen person we often see. She did make a few interesting remarks to Ellis among the lines of jokes, she knows how to tease Tobin (probably her favourite pastime), she can be snarky and witty, and it's pretty awesome.

That's why I was in love with the blunt confrontation between Tobin & Christen. It was actually what I expected, Tobin always so free and direct, Christen so smart, witty and a little biting! The Daily Debate was just amazing but what I noticed is that every time Tobin talked, with Jill or simply telling something, she always included Christen in her moments, in her thoughts, her memories, her experiences, she looked at her, waited for her reaction.

The most technical part of the conversation was so intriguing for a football fan. I loved the Marginal Gain philosophy, it's the success in the details.

Also, about the USWNT, I think Tobin doesn't have much admiration for Vlatko, as coach and person. At one point she said something like "talking about chewing and spitting …" and she went on saying she and Christen wouldn't be at the World Cup, it says something.

In the end, I think they really nailed this first episode. I wanna see Christen take the lead in the next episodes and I can't wait for them!

#tobin heath #christen press #woso #uswnt #football #soccer #re inc #jill ellis #women's football

[vaultof-thoughts]

DOUBTS, INSERCURITY AND ANXIETY

The title is blood red, why? because when I used to have doubts, and still didn't really understand non-dualism at all, my brain would set off alarms with flickering fiery red lights. As if they were forbidden , as if I was committing some crime and conducting treason. Many of us find it difficult to deal with doubts, anxiety, insecurity because it just feels so bad, so ickish... so painful an it instantly sends us into a spiral- "Oh No! I'm not supposed to be thinking this, I'm supposed to be Zen and indifferent all the time!" "NO!!! All my progress has gone to waste.." (spoiler alert: there is no progress to be made) or just endless interaction with the (seeming) thought and just piling on to the insecurity and discomfort. Trust me, we've ALL been there, and it's COMPLETELY and ABSOLOUTELY normal and OKAY. Because guess what? This will blow your mind: IT IS IRRELEVENT. I'm serious. You could think the most gruesome, ugly, thoughts about yourself and your dream but it doesn't affect " " at all. SO, what does this mean? It means these thoughts aren't yours!! You aren't the thinker!! CELEBRATE that for a moment! bask in freedom of that realization. These thoughts are from of the ego, or character or WHATEVER. Thing is, this ego is an illusion.

Thoughts, feelings, sensations, DESIRES = Ego

Ego = "the ego doesn’t exist. It’s not a person nor an entity or anything like that. It’s just a longtime held onto perception. It’s just a pile of ideas, concepts, states of mind, thoughts and feelings that we’re clung to and built upon like a castle of cards. It was never you. It was never truly real. It seemed to be because you were it. It cannot exist without you knowing yourself as it." - @crystaldust

Conclusion is, whatever you are going through right now, you are not actually going through. (sounded better in my head) Instead, there is only " " observing a ILLUSIONARY life with a nice lil character and basically in different forms. So everything is " " (the character, the life, other people, the dirty clothes on your floor you're not gonna clean up, etc) are all just different forms of " " so basically just " " observing " " which also mean that nothing is REALLY happening. Like yes I just failed my chemistry test but is there really anything happening here?? without labels, words and meaning what is there? no thing. So even the doubtful, fearful, anxious and insecure thoughts are nothing, you are assigning illusionary meaning to them and on top of that taking them to be you. Like? And what is absoloutellyyy hilarioussss is that " " put this dream or play on itself, and on purpose for fun, and you're acting like it's the end of the world.

On a more serious note though, I know how hard it can be to see negative thoughts for what they really are! and to stop taking the illusion so seriously. There's death, murder, poverty, starvation and many things to react to. I know it can be hard. I know trust me, but in all honesty, guys, you are the observer! not the person. And again, I will repeat this until your ears bleed. It is ALL COMPLETELY Illusionary. This does not mean you're not allowed to bawl your eyes out or react to anything at all- infact, I mean the contrary. Do WHAT YOU WANT. It doesn't matter, there is no "process" to mess up on here. Just come back and notice " " It's always there anyway even observing right now. And remember not to be harsh on yourself and take good care of yourself :) and most importantly have fun.

(im super sorry this post is very long and chaotic im going to try to add some pretty colors and pictures and stuff in later so that people actually read it but bye and ily)

#nondualism #nd #noconcepts #nothingness #consciousness #DONTINCRIMINATETHEMOBSERVETHEMBECAUSETHEYARENOTYOURSSOSTOPTAKINGTHEMTOBE #nonduality #brahman #advaita vedanta #beingness

[saralovesyouu]

(⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠)

HOHOHO hi there darling, I saw that you write for mystic messanger and ahhh~ I'm so glad. That games got me in a LITTERAL chokehold the last few days I Litteraly can't focus on anything else beside it...haha anyways onto the request

I read your rules and everything so I think I'm good to go

I was thinking

Zen x reader first kiss maybe imagine or headcanons or whatever youre more comfy with

Anyways love you don't forget to eat and drink (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Zen x reader (gn) — First kiss.

Aww you’re so sweet, and I can do both since I don’t have anything else to do atm!! Also I didn’t know if you wanted it to be fem or masc reader so it’s gn! And I didn’t know if you meant reader/Zen’s first kiss or the first kiss in the relationship, so I just made it so it was the first kiss in the relationship, but if you meant smth else lmk and I’ll re-write it! Sorry that it’s a bit short, if you wanted it to be longer I could write more!

- I would think Zen wouldn’t be very shy about kissing you, even if it’s your first kiss (in the relationship..)

- I feel like the first thing Zen would do almost immediately after you officially got together—would be kissing you. But ofc he would wait until you’re ready to cause he loves you and don’t wanna make you uncomfy.

- Yk how he’s always flirty in his route? I feel like he would try to make it less.. obvious that he wanted to kiss you but still flirts with you to the point of HINTING that he wants to.

- If you don’t catch onto it, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you straight, and would even tease you if you got flustered.

- But overall I feel like he’d be very patient and wouldn’t want to rush you if you wanted to wait until you felt the moment was right. <3

You and Zen were currently laying down on the grass, watching as the stars twinkled and shimmered, pointing at every odd shape some of them formed. He had invited on you on a picnic, in the place he would hide away to, he thought what better than to be there, no one to interrupt, just you and him with the crickets in the background.

It was nice, not having to worry about Zen’s fans following you both around and pestering you. It was also nice to not have the chaos of RFA, just the two of you. Nothing more than the sound of crickets chirping every now and then, and the slight breeze that rustled the grass. To Zen, it was perfect. Just laying with you, all alone with only the stars as your witness.

Zen turned to you, his gaze loving as he reached to caress your face.

“Hey?” You giggled, turning on your side so now you were face-to-face with him.

“Hey.” He smiled warmly at you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer.

You two stayed there for a moment or two, maybe longer, but you didn’t know. All you knew is that you were laying there, safe and comfortable. The only light there was the small lamp Zen had brought, which perfectly illuminated your face. To him, you looked absolutely stunning, perfect in his eyes.

His gaze which was once set on your eyes, moved down to your soft lips. You two haven’t kissed once in the relationship, but he was just waiting for you to be ready.

While you were waiting for the perfect moment.

There was no rushing this pure night, holding each other so close, that it felt impossible to be even closer.

You turned your head slightly, gazing up at the stars and the moon. “The moon.. it looks beautiful, doesn’t it?” You asked with a smile, gazing back into his crimson eyes.

“Never as beautiful as you.” He teased, but he wasn’t smirking—he was genuinely smiling.

Your face flushed, and with a huff, you shifted your gaze back to the sky.

“Hey..” he cooed, grabbing your chin gently so you would look back at him “you know I love you, right?”

Right then and there, your heart fluttered, and it felt as if a million butterflies were swarming in a tornado-like way inside of your stomach.

“Yeah..” was what you managed to reply, then whispering a “..I love you too.”

He smiled at you once more, his gaze trailing back to your lips. Oh how badly he wanted to kiss you, and you noticed. You noticed how he looked at your lips for a moment too long before flickering back to your eyes, but you took it as he might be a bit sleepy, and thought nothing of it.

Zen wanted to get frustrated, he wanted to be closer to you, but he just couldn’t. He wanted to be patient with you, he didn’t want you to run from him because he was rushing or being too pushy. But he just couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your entire face flushed bright red, as your eyes darted back to his. “What?” you uttered, thinking maybe you heard him wrong.

But this only made him even more determined.

“I said,” he murmured, reaching to caress your face in his hands. His hands felt soft against your skin, as if they were meant to hold you. “Can I kiss you?”

“I..” you were too flustered to speak, heart pounding in your chest—so loudly you thought he might hear it. It wasn’t for a while that you finally managed to give a shy nod, and that’s all it took for Zen.

Zen quickly leaned in, eager to feel his lips against yours, impatient to kiss you. He smiled when you let out a surprised squeak, but returned his kiss after a few moments. He pulled away, slowly and reluctantly, he felt his heart swell at the sight of you.

Your cheeks were flushed, and you were breathing a bit heavily from how flustered you were. It wasn’t long before he leaned back in, and kissed you once again.

It was perfect, you and him, kissing under the moonlight with no fangirls in sight, and no one there to bother you. Just Zen and his lovely partner, kissing under the blanket of stars.

(A/N) : I got so excited when I saw something in my inbox more like when I got the notification and I wanted to say thank you sm for requesting this! It was really fun to write, and if you want me to fix anything just say the word and I’ll make any adjustments you want! Sorry for writing so much in an author’s note, it’s just this is the first ask I’ve gotten and I’m really happy about it. :)

Also it’s proofread! I made sure to double check for spelling errors and grammar mistakes, so if I missed something hopefully I didn’t lmk! Also lmk if you want me to change smth in it, but overall tysm for requesting this.

#zen mystic messenger #hyun ryu #mystic messenger #zen x reader #x reader #mysmes zen #mysmes #saralovesyou writes

[natasha-in-space]

HIIIIIIIII DARLING

I'm sorry my hyperactive squirrel brain is excited to request because mystic messanger has been occupying my brain.

Anyways since your requests are open I was thinking

Zen X reader confession??? Like Zen confessing to reader,how he would do it and blablabla (also if it's possible without any spoilers for the story since I'm on the 10th day rn so y'now)

Anyways eat well and don't forget to drink (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

Thank you, dear anon! I hope you stay hydrated and eat well just as much. I had a lot of fun writing out your request! So much so that I decided to go with Zen's POV as well as your own. I hope you enjoy it :)

Zen was a hopeless romantic.

Perhaps it was just a side effect of all the exciting romance plots he always enjoyed acting out throughout his career, or maybe it was a natural part of who he was as a person. If you would ask him this directly, he wouldn't really know how to answer. Maybe, it was a combination of both. He longed for a meaningful connection with someone from a very early age, even if it wasn't necessarily romantic at the time. Songs and musicals gradually opened up his eyes to such an enormous array of breathtaking stories, full of people caring and loving ond another in so many difficult ways, both romantic as well as platonic... Something he couldn't really experience in his own home life. It was only natural for him to eventually start fantasizing about something similar on his own.

But, even despite all that... He never expected to fall for you so fast and so hard. The butterflies in his stomach he would have to deal with whenever he opened up the messenger as soon as he woke up and wondered whether or not he will see you there... how nice it would be to talk to you first thing in the morning, and how much he wanted to ask you about your plans for the day. The ticklish warmth blooming in his chest so breathtakingly whenever you would ask him about his day in turn, such genuine excitement felt in your sweet voice as he would talk to you over the phone in between his rehearsals... In fact, he got in trouble with his manager a few times already for always sneaking off to talk to you. He had no regrets. The many daydreams he would mull over in his own head as he ran his usual evening laps around his neighborhood... Thinking of how wonderful it would be to share his evening routine with you by his side. Would you two bicker like an old married couple? Or, maybe you'll stick together like glue? He couldn't help but want to find out.

It was all pretty dizzying to deal with already, in the best way possible, of course. It's been so long since he experienced the exciting feeling of falling in love.

But, when you showed up at his apartment? All worried for him of all people? He came to the realization that he was too deep to swim back out. Not like he wanted to, anyways. No matter how depressed and discouraged he would become, deep down, he knew he didn't want to let you go. You were the warm ray of sunlight he longed for. You supported him, you respected him, you encouraged him, and...

God, he hoped you would love him.

He made an effort to keep his sentimental heart under control for now. He wanted to be a proper gentleman to you! He wanted to take things nice and slow with you. Not to mention the scandal weighing down on his career currently, making his future rather unstable at best. You deserved someone who could provide for you and care for you... You deserved someone with a stable future. It wouldn't feel right for Zen to confront you with his feelings when he couldn't give you anything in return. At least, that's how he viewed it.

That is until he had to rush in to save you from that damn hacker.

Zen was aware of the danger this world possessed. Hell, he went through so many dangerous situations in his not so long lifetime, he could easily write an entire book about it, if he put his mind to it. But, nothing could compare to the paralyzing fear he felt in his very soul at the prospect of you being in danger, and him being unable to do anything about it. It made him act out in a way he hadn't in a long time. He will probably apologize to Seven for outright screaming at him to provide him the address to Rika's apartment... after giving him a piece of his mind at the party, that is.

Knowing that you were safe and sound beside him was an overwhelming relief that words couldn't describe. It was so strong, that his legs nearly gave out from underneath him the moment you two got back to his apartment. Still, he did his best to appear strong. For you. So that you could rely on him.

But... there was something else, too.

After almost losing you like that, he realized that he couldn't wait until the right moment to confess his feelings for you. Now, he knew more than ever, just how precious you became to him in a short amount of time that you have spent with him. And, truth is, he didn't want to hold back on his feelings anymore. You told him that he deserved to be selfish sometimes... So, as the day slowly faded into night, he gathered all his courage and paddled over to the tiny kitchen, where you resided currently.

"...Y/N?"

You were caught off guard and gasped as you whirled around to look at him with wide eyes. Damn it. He probably should have warned you first. You were probably still so shaken after everything that happened back at the apartment... He chastised himself internally before raising his hands up in the air to comfort you.

Well, no time like the present.

⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

"My bad, my bad! Didn't mean to startle you. You okay?" Zen watched you with a worried expression plastered all over his beautifully sculpted face. Seeing him there caused your head to fill up with various thoughts for some reason. So many things have happened in the span of just ten measly days. And yet, it felt like months have passed. Figuring out your own feelings amid all this chaos was practically impossible!

"I- Yes, sorry! I just got lost in my head for a moment there." You laughed it off awkwardly. It was peculiar. Zen was always gorgeous, such is his fate. You thought it was only natural for you to get just a little bit flustered in his presence, especially if it's just the two of you in an enclosed space. But, right now, he was rather disheveled. His long hair was tied up in a messy bun, a couple of locks falling over his face rather adorably, his clothes were wrinkled from all the running you two went through today, and his face looked stricken with worry. And yet, somehow, you felt even more drawn to him than ever. He almost sparkled in that cheap kitchen lighting, much to your embarrassment. You couldn't even write it off on the possible moonlight, because his apartment had no windows!

As you stood staring at him, Zen began speaking with a nervous expression. "Y/N, to tell you the truth, I... have decided something after everything that happened to us today."

"Oh?" Just hearing him mention the horrible events of today's morning made all the color drain from your face. What was he going to tell you? You honestly had no idea, but, for some reason, your anxious mind came up with all sorts of worrying options. You sure hoped he wouldn't make you go back to that apartment... You were honestly not above begging if it came down to it. The thought of returning there was too much to handle.

Your chest felt incredibly tight with worry as you waited for him to continue with bated breath. Zen took a deep breath and then raised his piercing gaze back at you, making your heart skip a beat. And it wasn't due to the anxiety this time around. "What I want to say... is my true feelings. I know I already made it obvious that I like you, but... I want to say it properly this time around. I love you."

"Uh-" A small squeak slipped passed your lips as your breath got stuck in your throat. Did you hear him wrong, maybe? Did he... Did he really... So, you tried to pull yourself together and clarify. No reason to freak out just yet! "I... Did I... Did I hear that right? You... love me?"

"Yes, you heard it all precisely right. I love you, Y/N. As a person. As a partner. I love you." He didn't even hesitate. He spoke with confidence, his words were clear and loud enough for you to hear everything.

You could feel yourself freezing up again, the heat rushing to your cheeks before you could do anything to stop it. This was so different from the way you expected this conversation to go! Here you were, worrying about him sending you back to Rika's apartment, but instead he... confessed his love to you!? Amidst all the ticklish feelings of infatuation, came the feeling of great relief, making your shoulders slump forward.

Zen continued, carefully watching your reaction as he spoke. "I know that this is an inconvenient time for something like this. I know that the prospect of being with me in a romantic sense may be very stressful for you. But, please let me say this to you anyway. Y/N... I love you. I think... I think I fell for you even before we met face-to-face."

Zen's tender gaze made your legs feel weak from the intensity of his gaze. The eagerness in his beautiful ruby eyes conveyed more than even a thousand words ever could. He loved you. That's what his eyes told you. There was no doubt about it.

"You have always been so... genuinely supportive of me. You told me that I... that I am inspiring to you, both inside and out. You never saw me as just my looks. You never once doubted me during this recent scandal. Even when I doubted myself. You believed in me when no one else did. You... You don't know just how much you saved me." He smiled at you, and yet, it almost looked like he was about to tear up. He looked at you as if you were the most valuable thing in the entire universe at this moment. And the implications of that made your heart race even more than it already did, if that was even possible. Before you could reply in any way, though, he continued. "...I love your smile. I love how you always look straight at me and accept me as I am, even when I was at my weakest. I love you, Y/N. Because you saw me as who I am. I never knew someone could become so special to me in such a short amount of time, but... it's you, Y/N. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Zen..." Seeing all the emotion flowing through his eyes, and hearing him pour out his heart to you like this truly made you feel lightheaded. You were happy, but it wasn't due to his appearance. Oh, you were so unbelievably happy. And on the brink of crying, too. You were so relieved that he did not plan on sending you away, but you were even more relieved that...

The fact that you were also in love with Zen brought you relief. No other reason could be possible.

This conclusion was so natural, it was as simple as adding up 2 + 2. This was more than anything you've felt with him before. This was more than the ticklish sensations of surprise or embarrassment... You were just so incredibly happy. Giddy, even. The only thing that was left for you to do was to express it.

You accomplished it. Without even thinking, you reached for him and took hold of his sleeve, stopping him before he was about to go on with his words. In hindsight, this was a bit awkward, but you didn't care. Zen's eyes widened a little as he looked at you, awaiting your next move. "Y/N?"

But, unfortunately, you were at a loss for words. While Zen had too much to say, you couldn't form a single word, even as your chest was practically vibrating from all the feelings of affection and happiness stacked within it. You and Zen just stared at one another for a moment or two, nothing but the buzzing sound of his freezer breaking through the silence. Even though you knew you loved him back, you couldn't find the right words to tell him. Was there even any need for the right words? You didn't know. It was confusing. Confusing and so damn exciting at the same time.

You decided to go for it. Blurting out anything that would come to your frazzled mind. "Z-Zen, I- Me too! I mean- Love. I love you, too. That's what I mean."

That was not awkward at all. You couldn't suppress a stupid laugh as you realized just how embarrassingly high-pitched your voice sounded. God, you were such a mess. Regardless, you continued on. In some weird way, you messing up so terribly at first made it easier to just be honest from then on.

"Sounds like a dream come true, my prince/ss". He murmured in return. And, before you could even think about it, he gently cupped your cheek, making your breath hitch. "...Can I kiss you?"

"Wait, no. That didn't come out right. What I'm trying to say is... I am so, so happy to hear you say all of these things... And I don't care about the timing, or your career, or the scandal, or anything at all. I mean- No, I do care, just- Agh, you get what I mean!" This time, Zen chuckled along with you, making your stomach fill up with butterflies at the sweet sound of it. With a happy smile, he nodded along and looked at you expectedly. This made you forget all about your reservations or nerves at once. You felt comfortable, relaxed. "What I'm trying to say here is... I want to be by your side. Supporting you. Loving you. And... And being loved by you. Does that sound okay?"

How could you refuse that?

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #zen ryu #mystic messenger zen #zen x reader #clearing out my inbox little by little #we're getting there! #was this piece too sappy? #i don't know #but i'm a sucker for confession scenes in visual novels :) #best read with a romantic bgm! #also i love awkward readers as you can see lmao #maybe a bit oblivious too

[cumaeansibyl]

Realizing just how much time I spend lately either feeling like an idiot or feeling like everyone else is an idiot and it's a return to 2010-2013 form no one was anxious for. Everything I genuinely enjoy can also be an ego trap! Who allowed that?

Am also dealing with repressed emotions that are doing extremely somatic things and interfering with my life, when the whole point of repressing them was to get them out of my way -- like yes, I know I'm supposed to be tender and patient and hold my pain gently but some people have work in the morning -- and they seem to have gotten stuck, such that when I stand right up and confront them I feel more embarrassed at myself than anything else. I begin to wonder whether I've gone to all this trouble being afraid of some profound pain when in reality it's just nasty and petty, if also regenerating. Can I not cry over it simply because it's not worth crying over?

Anyway the yoga and meditation retreat is going swimmingly, it even came with a free rock:

Zen Buddhist monk: I'm giving you each a rock.

Me: I am now permanently attached to this rock and will cherish him forever. I am very good at Buddhism.

#it turns out i don't want to be good at buddhism #starting with: actually yes i do think it's okay to start out by defining myself against what i'm not #also attachment rules

[pudding-parade]

Simblr New Years Resolution 2024

Because @papermint-airplane is lazy and demanding…and I promise not to whine too much.

What's your Resolution for your Simblr? I dunno. I always say that I want to be less flaky and "here today, gone tomorrow" about it, but I never actually follow through with that. Life happens and, when I can, there are many things that I'd rather be doing than sitting at a computer messing around on a blog. Right now, I don't have a whole lot of other options available, so…Enjoy it while it lasts? Hate it while it lasts? I guess? But even so, there are other games I want to play besides Sims, and since this is a (mostly) Sims-dedicated blog…Well, there we are.

What do you want from the Sims Franchise? All I want for Christmas is a 64-bit TS3 so that I don't have to keep checking how much RAM the game is using and then saving and reloading before it hits the Point of No Return. It must really suck for people who play bigger and more heavily-populated worlds than I do.

I'm convinced a 64-bit TS3 will never happen, though. Even though, last I checked, EA still sells the game. At full price, even.

Any other New Years Resolutions? I've never been one to make resolutions. Life is too unpredictable, so I just go with the flow, doing the best I can day by day. I'm old enough now that I know that who I basically am and what I will do in my life is not going to change much, if at all. I've done chameleon-like change enough in the past -- sometimes willingly, sometimes not -- that I don't feel that I need to change anything else, ever. I'm happy with who and what I am, but it's taken me about 50 years to get to that level of I-don't-give-a-shit-what-anyone-else-thinks zen, so…yeah. LOL

On the other hand, not to be really strange and probably macabre, but…Until recently, I wasn't supposed to live for very much longer. I'd already outlived expectations, in fact. I'd been given about 5 to 7 years of "meaningful" life when I was diagnosed in 2013, meaning that after that it was predicted that I'd pretty much be hospital- or at least bed-bound until I finally kicked it. Or offed myself, which was my plan for when I became incapacitated because that is no kind of life.

So, how long I could've kept going was an open question, but I think it probably wouldn't have been much more than a year, realistically. Things went downhill pretty fast this past year. And I had come to grips with that and had things all arranged. But now that I will live longer, perhaps even a normal lifespan, I'm kind of feeling flummoxed about what I'm going to do with all that time that I hadn't planned on. So maybe my resolution should be figuring that shit out. Yeah.

Anyway! I, too, am lazy and demanding, so I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you read this and decide to do it, too, tell 'em I sent ya.

#memes memes glorious memes

[valittlecorner]

☆ (Improvised) Pararai appreciation post!!

- Hi hello this is a very improvised post!!! But I've always been thinking about how this project seems to be made with so much love. There's so many details about the creative process of it I can't get out of my head. So we're appreciating it. Right now.

1) Designs!! The fact they got a bunch of different character designers for EACH UNIT for the sake of keeping it unique, resulting in a cast full of vibrant outstanding characters. That definitely wasn't cheap, but they made the sacrifice for the sake of a varied cast!! And it did pay off (It also must've been a struggle to adapt the designs to the usual Pararai artstyle lol)

2) VA's!! They hired Utaites with more or less experience to be voice actors!! (Zen va, Kei va, Anne va, Toma va). They opened a bunch of opportunities for the ones who are beginners in the Industry like 96Neko, who mentioned Pararai was the first "real project" she's participated in. And the best thing is, they've been doing their best efforts to preserve the identities of whoever wants to remain private. Like 96Neko, who's usually a shadow in concerts. And Kashitaro Ito, who always wears a fox mask (I THINK that's always been his thing but I still want to mention it, don't come at me!!).

3) VA's!! (the sequel). On the voice actor topic, besides hiring Utaites, they also got their hands on some of the most recognized faces in the industry. Like Natsuki Hanae (Ryuu va, known for roles like Tanjiro Kamado), Ayumu Murase (Hajun va, known for roles like Shōyo Hinata) and many others! All the Pararai voice actors are talented, but having some of the most solid VAs on board definitely helped the project a lot not only providing publicity, but providing some amazing work in concerts due to their experience while also having fun little quirks (staring at Natsuki who's quite literally irl Ryuu).

4) The commitment to Rap and different genres!! Most projects do have this, but I still want to talk about it okay!!!! Pararai has a lot of different genres under their belt, we all know that. But I think it's the COMMITMENT to it that really makes me happy. Every group has an established genre, like for example, Cozmez have more "raw" hip hop and trap, while Akyr are Reggaeton inspired, those are their assigned genres. But the producers manage to make a different twist all the time. Even if it's the same genre and formula, they always give it a new unique twist without ruining its essence, thus establishing a solid image for everyone!! This could sound like the bare minimum, because it is, but it's MY post so I'm appreciating it anyways, it's nice :3.

5) Fan appreciation!! The AMOUNT of events for JP Heads is impressive. Listen, most projects have livestreams and concerts, that's pretty much the standard. But Pararai takes this concept to the next level. It's not enough to just have a livestream event on an Anniversary, nuh-uh, they have livestreams EVERY TIME a new phase of RTL drops. And speaking of RTL phases, they also open AT LEAST ONE little pop-up cafe when these happen, with special merch and food + those videos with the VAs and Producers talking about the songs. Also the Dope shows, they're pretty elaborated too. They have little outfits for each VA that are a replica of their character's. Cmon they even have exclusive bonuses depending on where you get your albums from, like in K-pop!!! They kind of spoil us fans lately, but we won't complain🤨🤨

As you can tell, this project is filled with so much Love for its niche. Every voice actor seems to really like their job, some are constantly posting old photos or promoting in personal accs, and I can see why they do. This is a really worthy project, made with nothing but respect to its fans!!! Thanks if you read all of it, I was rambling a bit lol

#pararai #paradox live #prri #forgot to mention the queer rep with Anne but oh well #become a pararai fan NOW

[bigdvmnhero]

summary:

"They say you'll save us all," the yokai continued. "A lofty fate. Wouldn't you say, ronin?" I don't want it, Mikey thought, surprised by the fierceness of it. Take it from me.

chapter two | prev | ao3

It had been a good few paralyzing months since Leo last answered to anyone, but April would be damned if she let him walk away now. "C'mon, Leo," she called after him. "Calm down."

"I'm calm?" came the bewildered laugh.

But the brisk footfalls ahead slowed, and Leo pulled his sword arm back to slice a platter-sized portal open. Then he shoved his head inside it.

Distantly, April thought she heard a muffled pterodactyl screech of pure, unbridled fury.

A passing soldier broke into a panicked half-jog.

"See?" Leo stepped back, and his eyes were unfazed when he fastened them on her. "I'm great. Just—fantastic." The portal twinkled behind him; in another universe, April would have cannonballed right in, straight into a life sweet as neon punch. "Wanna try?" he offered brightly.

April didn't trust that grin; it had secret blades hidden all over it. Leo's weapon of choice.

Silence, it appeared, was April's. Something Leo had very little experience with it. For all his expertise, he tended to buckle under it in seconds. Starting now.

"You could toss stuff into it too," Leo added, conspiratory. "Just don't ask me where it goes."

April crossed her arms.

"Don't wooooorry about it—it's a Donnie problem, m'kay? Just find something fun to break."

Ten seconds. In the meantime, April mastered her best impression of a rock. Flat and unimpressed.

"Maybe not anything useful though. I kinda love having chairs. Donnie's bunsen burners, though..."

She pitched an eyebrow up—the final blow. Leo sagged like a puppet.

"Fine." He twirled his sword and the portal sewed itself shut. "But don't come looking for me when you're feeling cranky..."

The abandoned subterranean warehouse they called their base offered near-complete protection from the elements, courtesy of Donnie most of all. A tradeoff was the lack of private enclosures to talk shit about little brothers, or even to enjoy a brief mental breakdown under the impossible weight of the apocalypse.

This, April reasoned, was the only reason Leo remained standing, hip-cocked, seemingly unbowed by the promise of her verbal fire. "Listen, alright?" she began—biting back the you dumb little shit her own trigger-happy tongue threatened to fire—she could be zen; remember your training, O'Neil? "All I'm saying is, you can't run your men ragged like that."

"Oh, my fault? I'm running them ragged?" And god, Leo could be such a drama kid when he wanted to be. "Who keeps pulling them out of the field last minute? Who's stuffing them in airships to play babysitter for billionaires doing fuck all to help us, because their butler Miguel just got Kraangified cleaning the fucking—infinity pool, or whatever? Not me. I'm not their leader."

"Well, you sure are actin' like it," she answered, and they stood there looking cross at each other as another soldier squirreled past them. The boy had waved seeing April from the end of the hallway, only to skip past as if dodging hot coals after realizing Leo was standing there too, like a vengeful apparition of god.

Under the dull warehouse fluorescents, Leo was less god, more patron saint of jaded-eyed misery. Some missionary for the church of Stick Up My Ass. And anyway, April's faith was deteriorating, and fast.

Away from the blitz of the battlefield, the civilians' adoring eyes, this version of Leo was a blunted edge. She missed his sharp jokes. She'd never say it, but it was one of the things she envied most about him. Clever-quipped, facetious, all-seeing Leo. Come back, idiot, she thought.

Alone again, she rounded on him. "Didn't we talk about this? Like it or not, these men aren't trained like us. We gotta set our expectations straight. Those guys? They are our fair-weather rag-tag volunteer team. At least, for now. And most of 'em think we're just dumb kids, Lee. They're not gonna fall in line all because we know a ninja trick or two!"

Leo lifted his chin. "Well, if their men are so important to them, why aren't the EPF here? Why are we the ones training them? Even Donnie's supplying most of our arms at this rate. Hell—we're feeding them! Three meals a day, April; like we're some kind of roadside hotel—"

"Rats and sci-fi food cubes are hardly—"

"What am I supposed to do then?" The question was sudden, gummed with emotion, and that was how April knew Leo was cracking. Finally—something real. "Raph's out there, risking his shell each day so no alien overlords breach our border. Donnie's straight up killing himself just trying to keep our base functional, and Mikey—" Leo's throat swallowed the rest. April looked away. Easier to finish the sentence for him in her own mind: Mikey, who phased through the days, seemingly unchanged. Mikey, who never cried since.

Leo dragged a hand down his face. "Meal planning should be the least of our concerns. These guys are eating through our rations—rations civilians are happy to give up, by the way, if it means we can protect them. And I can overlook them being sloppy and untrained—I'll take a little mutant racism, too, sure, why not!" April winced. "But complaining about the food? Come on," and the laugh was wrong all over, barbed with something dark.

April couldn't blame him; it had bothered her too, the way they took hesitant bites of the tough white bread they'd served, half-emptied the cans of beans and dried meat, pushing their plates away, the stuff unfinished, and sure it had been the old same fare they'd been having for the past four months—going on five now—the taste long indistinguishable from dusty cinder blocks, but it was all they had. It was that, or Donnie's nutrient cubes. Or the rats. At least they had options.

People died for those options.

Killed, too.

"I get it," April said, but Leo was shaking his head.

"Do you? 'Cause I'm sick of this publicity stunt the EPF's doing. Calling me and my brothers heroes, then leaving us with what? Psh." He sent a bitter smile skyward that could've melted through the beams. "I'm done."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm not about this puppet leader gig, April. Or the lies, or the sappy radio speeches I gotta do every week to convince the world everything's sunny and great and nice. It's clear none of them care about protecting the little guys." His voice dropped into a hardened stone, the resoluteness in it barely restrained. He stepped close. "Me? I'm ready to do something real, April. Something big. And I need real soldiers out there. In the dirt, with me. With us."

Later, she would regret not telling him of the deep pride she felt for him, at that moment. But in her chest was its twin star—grief, white-hot and insistent. It demanded all of her. "I hear ya, Leo. I promise." She reached for his bristling shoulder. "But you need... you need to give them time. They've lost stuff too, you know."

"Not this," Leo groaned, then turned to resume his march down the hallway. April gave chase. In the past month alone Leo had shot up like an oak tree; it was taking her twice as many steps just to keep up.

"C'mon, Lee. Wait."

He kept walking.

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that." He threw finger guns in the air.

Well, damn, April thought, nobody told me today was Little Shit Sunday, and pulled him by his mask tails.

Leo yelped something undignified.

He was so used to people walking on eggshells around him he'd forgotten how rotten April's big sister play could be, and honestly? That was on him. Six feet tall, and it was still on him.

Leo whirled on her, face twisted in exaggerated affront. Gleefully, April wished she had a camera; Raph would eat this up, like the day Leo's own blade snapped in his face. Never heard the end of it. "I wasn't finished. So! Ready to listen now?"

"Yeah," Leo said. He didn't look happy about it.

"Good. Thought so. 'Cause I was just about to say that yesterday, these guys weren't soldiers. They were just people. Know what I mean? Just dumb, silly people, silly kids, with jobs and hobbies and stuff to look forward to. And now they're soldiers. Y'know what that's like?"

Leo glued his eyes stubbornly on the bare cement wall behind her, but he let his jaw be turned. There was a new notch in his shoulder, healing nicely; April had stitched it herself. Leo didn't cry, but he'd clutched at April's knee the whole time, his grip clammy and white-knuckled. Said, what's a turtle gotta do to get some entertainment 'round here? And, wait, don't use up the thread, Cass's gonna need to change hers out sooner or later.

"Maybe," Leo answered.

"Nah, I know you do," April said—their best friend April now, not war advisor April or whatever role she played to keep them all sane. "Bet you know it better than any of us. Oi—eyes on me. Whatcha thinking about in that head of yours anyway?"

"Well, for one—" he pushed her hand away, but there was something shifting aside in his face, "how the only reason any of those guys listen to me is because of you." When April snorted, he continued. "I'm not trying to flatter you. If you hadn't spoken for us back then, I'm pretty sure the EPF would've gotten rid of us. Bet they're just itching to finish the job."

April didn't like to think about that. "Well, that's 'cause none of you know when to keep your mouths shut. Someone's gotta keep your asses in line. Maybe I will be commander one day, just for that." When Leo didn't seem to toss the idea aside like she wanted him to, she shook his shoulders before the conspiring glint in his eye could manifest into something. "All I'm saying is, y'all stuck with me. And I see you, Leo."

She cupped his cheek again. A long time ago, Leo would've leaned into her hand, basked in her easy affection. Now he turned rigid under any touch.

"I know things are all sorts of fucked right now, but I'm your friend first. Always am. We're on your side. 'Kay?"

Leo's eyes went back to the wall; April turned his face again, patient.

"And your brothers are war machines, sure. But they're your brothers, too." She couldn't help it—she pinched both his cheeks hard. Leo yelped then glowered. April stood her ground; the guy had to be put in his place regularly, or there was just no living with him. "And you're not just their leader. Not to them. Got it?"

"—seriously manhandling—"

"Got it?"

"—yes ma'am, okay, sheesh!"

"And you," April called out, lifting her gaze skyward, "you're not slick. I can literally hear you breathing."

Twenty feet up, hanging upside down from the high ceiling by spidershell-arms, Donnie and Mikey stared back with wide eyes.

In Mikey's arms was a hefty black vinyl bag, nearly twice his size. In Donnie's arms was Mikey. They shared a brief look that belonged to two doomed men and seemed to swallow their tongues.

An eternity passed in stilted silence.

For the first time in his life, Leo didn't get the first word in.

"Oh, mama, and would you look at the time, Dee—we are crazy late for brunch service!" Mikey kicked Donnie into action, and they crawled and skittered and fumbled through the final stretch to the hatch in the ceiling, which Donnie's robo-arms began to dismantle with frenetic speed. "Gotta run! I've got an army to feed, like literally! Talk later, 'kay?"

With a crash, they disappeared in a blur of robo-arms. The hatch fell shut. The echo traveled boldly through the wide enclosure, and, horrified, April turned to watch the way Leo's face changed, realizing it mattered little if she'd given him an earful that day or not; not when Mikey would figure out how to soften up the resistance members in ways Leo couldn't even fathom—all with a bowl of leftover rice fluffed with heat, scallions, eggs—"Eggs?!" Leo repeated—a dash of patience, and good ol' MSG, sweetening the dank underground base with the ambrosial smell of homemade cooking, all made in Splints' trusty rice cooker—and boy did they love that rice cooker. Hadn't that been exactly one of Splinter's lessons to her?

She shook her head with a smile, watching the miracle unfold. That's right, she thought. The fight you win is the fight you don't need to have.

Oh, Splints. She missed him something fierce. Later, she would crack open her old martial arts book to study her own sixteen-year-old writing on the margins, lessons from a lifetime ago trying to save the last great Lou Jitsu dojo. Splinter taught her everything she knew.

Maybe there had been things she'd dropped along the way. But now she picked up that old snakeskin, and remembered.

:::

They'd started off on the wrong foot—but even that was probably an understatement, wasn't it? Before they were violently forced underground, they were garment workers, porters, fishermen, who knew very little of New York and its supposed mutant saviors. To them, Mikey and his brothers were science fiction: green, scaly abominations from botched Frankensteinian experiments.

I'll take it, Raph had said. Way better than "demons." Remember the cult who tried trapping us in salt circles? Yeesh.

Donnie had shrugged it off. Mikey forgave it. Leo called it "a tactical advantage" and nurtured their fear until it grew into something else, something closer to awe.

For months, they shared no language. Nothing but the desire to survive. When Leo first showed the scrappy crowd how it was done—slaughtering a Kraang with nothing but rust-eaten gardening tools, stealth, and a whole lot of attitude—the spell was complete.

Almost.

Leo was used to leading three unruly brothers. But thirty? Mikey watched his brother's patience fray at the edges. Older survivors pointed at Leo's youth, but still Leo pushed, and he pushed hard.

Until they pushed back. Until the EPF started shuttling out their men, and their men let them, in exchange for one night of excess. Until they grew sick of the training, it was thankless work, sick of the drab, featureless cinderblock walls, of the bone-deep hunger, of the congealing loss of home far from the sun and Leo's uncanny asshole motherfucker era—ahem.

Mikey knew what he had to do. One spoonful of that fluffy, perfectly salted rice—and it had to be rice, didn't any of Mikey's brothers know these guys were kin? White bread for breakfast was just never gonna cut it—and the change was near palpable. Homesickness fled from their faces like horseflies. They filed into position, ready for the day's mission. Didn't even roll their eyes during Leo's attack demo of the day.

It had been just like this, once. Communal breakfasts every weekend. The lair smelling blessedly of butter. Mikey stacking each of his brothers' plates sky-high with pancakes, the thanks for the meal, Mikester, the head pats, the way Mikey loved life most when surrounded by all of them.

"By Galileo’s—is that a sugary drink." Donnie sat back on the bench at record speed when Mikey pulled out a Dr. Pepper he'd especially saved for this occasion. "I haven't had sugar in... I can't even say it. It’s too tragic.”

Mikey popped the lid and poured it delicately into his brother’s cup. Then, tongue poking out his mouth, he decided to tip the can over completely, letting it slosh around the sides. "Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?"

Donnie received his offering with wide eyes. "My cupeth."

Mikey clinked their cups together. "Shall runneth over, brother."

Donnie pulled one, long, hard gulp and considered the ceiling, dazed. He seemed to have arrived at some miraculous realization Mikey wasn’t privy to, like the secrets of nuclear fission, or the flight pattern of small, brown birds. "Huh. Wow." He blinked owlishly at Mikey, like he did at the end of a meditation, then put his cup down. He tapped his chest. "I suppose you may have one." He jabbed a finger in the air. "One!"

Mikey rose from his seat. "Dee…"

"One minute max," Donnie corrected firmly. But he unfurled his arms and smiled.

"One minute!" Mikey lost it. He threw himself into Donnie's embrace, and the bench almost tipped them over; this day was the best. Fluffy eggs on rice, Donnie hugs (twice! in one day!), and a happy resistance, at least for now.

His organic stash would need sorting. The leafy veggies had to be pickled, in jars of brine before winter arrived and frosted the base. Planting the beans would be easy, and easier still—the potatoes. Junior would love potatoes. Cloud-soft and heavenly once boiled. It would be months until their dumpster baby grew out his baby teeth; maybe they all could use something gentle.

And then Donnie stiffened in Mikey's arms, and Mikey knew his time was up.

Leo was walking towards their table.

"Alas, while this was delightful—" Donnie shot upright, "I must bid you farewell, beloved brother, for I have to.... dismantle a gun. Or several."

Mikey mirrored him. "M-me too!"

"You don't possess firearms."

"Well, I could!" Leo was drawing closer, his expression unreadable. "You don't know that!"

Donnie's eyebrows beetled quizzically. "Well, why haven't you shown me then? Do you need an upgrade?"

"An upgra—no! I got my own! Cool fire chain, remember!"

"Angelo, while your fundo is a highly impressive hand-held melee weapon, I would hardly place it in the same category as my own—"

"Donnie!" Mikey panicked. "I think we both agree we have very important things to do! Not here!"

"Right." Donnie nodded hastily. "Goodbye." They moved to part ways.

Something fast and made of steel flashed through the air. It thudded into the table between them, a perfect equidistance.

Leo's katana. The hilt convulsed like an arrow's feather.

Miraculously, Donnie lost his slouch, and Mikey let out an honest-to-god squeak, which could've been dignified if he wasn't seventeen and a half.

In the next second, Leo had apparated on the table across them, his grip loose on the hilt. He made no motion of pulling his weapon out. Instead, he reached over to peer curiously into Donnie's bowl.

"Leftovers? Come on, guys. We're better than this." Leo clucked. "Oh, lookity! These are prime stuff, Mike. Rice and eggs, too?" A long whistle. "Didn't know our desert hideout had a farm now. Why're you two standing there? Have somewhere to be? Sit."

They sat.

"Hi, Leo," Mikey managed.

"Hi, Mikey.” Leo rested his cheek on his palm. "Had fun today?"

"I did! I mean—" Donnie kicked his shin, and Mikey swallowed his story. There it was. Not a lot of people could tell the difference, but Mikey could. There was the resistance's Hamato Leonardo, and there was Leo, who normally had an airy head tone, was receptive to Mikey's puppy dog eyes, and did not fling sharp, damning sentences disguised as innocent open-ended questions, like so.

Donnie stepped in. “Alright Leo, I know our tardiness might've caused a bit of a surprise—“

“Oh, I knew,” Leo answered. “Raph said it’d be a quick detour. Probably super important, though, right?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Mikey said, at the same time Donnie mumbled a vindictive, that snitch, under his breath.

The bowl was poked, prodded, and sniffed in Leo's hand. “I mean, it must be. Important enough to miss morning drills.” Leo pulled his sword free. Donnie winced at the grating schwing. “But hey—at least breakfast is bomb, am I right?”

“The most important meal of the day?” Mikey tried weakly.

Officially, this was the worst; Donnie couldn’t lie to save his life, and Mikey’s resolve was slowly chipping away like paint under Leo’s magnifying-glass eyes.

Leo dipped his finger in the bowl and lifted a grain of rice to the light. It was short grain, firm and glutinous, grown only in the lush countryside. Or perfectly-engineered geodesic domes.

Leo made a low whistle. "Now, would you take a look at this beauty.”

Donnie seemed to understand they were damned. “I assure you, Nardo, it was a careful operation, everything was sourced ethically and responsibly.” To this, Leo snorted. “Alright. So the ethical part is... dubious. But the keyword is alive. Mikey’s safe, our hideout's uncompromised, and we’ve done the honors of feeding your soldiers a meal they probably haven’t had since the world went kaput. I don't see why you’re making such a fuss.”

"Oh, so we're going there? Okay." Leo leaned forward with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Why shouldn’t I worry. Starting with you, Dontron. Shall I count the ways?"

"I am detecting a rhetorical question—"

"One." Leo held a finger up. “You’ve had several heart palpitations during training this week—” Two fingers, “—April found you in the lab two days ago, because you had a cardiac episode from your blood pressure deciding to go skydiving—"

“What!” Betrayed, Mikey whipped his head back at Donnie, whose face seemed to have all the green frightened out of it. "Donnie!"

Leo continued, all three fingers up now, “Not to mention that time you went fucking blind in one eye because of a migraine, which—who knew, right? I sure as hell didn't."

“Ugh, yeah, I know." The Ceo and owner of Genius Tech groaned into his multiple spider-shell arms. "Embarrassing. LOL."

“LOL?” Leo's voice pitched strangely; Mikey couldn't look. "LOL?"

“Laugh out—look, it happened one time—“

"It should be ZERO times," Leo boomed, and the bowls shook as a fist pounded the table. For once Mikey agreed, feeling the first stirrings of understanding with this strange new bristling version of his brother, like the phony amalgamation of every parental figure in their sorry lives. This lasted for about two seconds. And then Leo whirled on him. "And you, Mikey darling, my baby brother."

"And me, your baby brother." The affection in Mikey's gut soured into dread. "And me..."

“Was it fun, doing some last-minute shopping at The Gardens?"

And darn, Leo was good. Too good. But Mikey’s prized hoard was still under the table, hidden behind the shadows and Mikey’s busted knees, undiscovered. Things were still salvageable.

While Mikey kicked the bag further into obscurity, Leo geared up for a Talk. “Honestly, joyrides in the middle of work aren’t for me, but I get it. Really, I do. This apocalypse sitch gets old, doesn't it? Food stinks, too. But it’s way too early in the game to be slacking off. If you wanna fuck off god knows where because you need a vacation? Be my guest. But you better be in the best shape of your lives. Better than ever. Better than me.”

Leo pushed himself off the bench and honest-to-god paced. Meanwhile, Donnie rolled his eyes so far back into his head Mikey was afraid it’d be permanent.

“We can't rely on our mystic powers anymore. I need you guys to hone your hard skills like they're the only tools you've got left. Because they are. People are counting on it." Leo paused to shoot a look over his shoulder. "Donnie-dear, if you don't start taking care of yourself and die a sad pathetic death in your lab, I promise, as your leader I am and will release all your tech to the EPF. Including all your trademark rights."

Donnie looked like he'd faint. "You wouldn't."

"Try me. And Mikey—we need to double down on your drills, and no more skipping out on training with Draxum. You can't razzmatazz out of this one. We need to figure out how to harness all that mystic potential of yours, and your basics are terrible as it is. What did we say about practicing?"

Mikey mumbled.

Leo tapped his ear. "Sorry, what was that?"

“Practice is your friend,” Mikey recited in a flat line. "For we are what we repeatedly do."

That seemed to perk Leo up. "Exactly! So I’ll see you for drills bright and early tomorrow morning.” Leo turned to go. “See? Knew you'd come around. And alright, I don't think your form is terrible, Mike—but you don't have to be doing all things all the time. I appreciate a little creativity in battle, but sometimes a good offense is a good defense."

“Sometimes a good offense is a good defense,” Mikey mimicked under his breath.

Leo froze mid-stride.

Mikey clapped a hand over his mouth with a resounding slap. Donnie, who had a semi-clear view of Leo’s face, turned his gaze to Mikey and gave a brief shake of his head. His flat, dead-eyed smile seemed to say, seeyanara, little brother.

“Leo,” Mikey tried, as Leo's back turned. “I mean—sensei. I mean—my big brother whom I love very very much, you know that, don't you? C’mon. I was just having a laugh, just having a little jokey-joke—”

“Changed my mind! We’ll do drills now, actually,” Leo said brightly. He clapped his hands once. “Twenty one-arm push-ups.”

Mikey collapsed like a Jenga pile onto the table. "Nooooo, not the push-ups! They get so old.”

“Fifty, then." Leo smiled, serene. "Where you going, Dee? You're up too. We’re sparring—and no battleshell tricks.”

“Please, god, why," Donnie moaned, at the same time Mikey begged, "Can I do some backflips instead?”

“A hundred then, lucky you!" Leo walked towards Mikey's end of the table, and Mikey didn't think he was going to do what he thought he was about to, but Leo had a penchant for surprising him. "Whatever that thing is under the table must be so worth it.”

Mikey's brain whited out. “Wait, wait! Don’t touch Donnie’s stuff!” and Leo paused, mid-reach. “He was scared we were running low on coffee rations, s-so we went to get a refill!”

A flicker of betrayal passed through Donnie's face. But he plastered on an unnatural smile. "Aha—whaaaat. Mikey.”

Leo’s calculating gaze hovered between them. But he’d stopped walking—small victories. “Thought we had a month of coffee left," he said, frowning.

"Apologies if I can't keep track of every single thing in this household!" Donnie shot back.

Leo crossed his arms. To Mikey, he barked, “Still no push-ups happening, camarada. You're not getting out of this one. And no magic gateways—"

Without warning, Donnie threw his weight carelessly onto Leo and dragged his bandana sideways so it blinded him. “Sparring!" he screeched. To Mikey: "Gateway, now! I’ll hold him back!”

Mikey needed no further instruction. He dived under the table, snatched his hoard while he pulled the portal open from beyond the verge—that was two mystic incidents today, Draxum was going to strangle him—and dove headfirst into the safe haven on the other side. “Bless you Dee, I will remember your sacrifice!” Baby brother privileges, babey.

:::

Donnie's sole makeshift hospital bed was permanently creaky now, no thanks to Cassandra's frequent visits.

She was in it every two weeks—grinning toothily through a broken bone or twenty. More recently, she enjoyed mounting full productions for her audience of one (1) wrinkly human baby. Donnie was not freaked out by this baby. If he was, it was not because the kid had way too much hair and eyes that absorbed all light or gurgled the way babies gurgled which made Donnie's chest go all funny and turn sideways-weird.

Imagine if I named the kid after another one of those renaissance dudes too, Cassandra cawed, doing jumping jacks on the bed with the kid giggling in her elbow until the final CRACK. They both looked down at the mattress. Now that was extra crunchy, Cassandra said.

Donnie kicked her out shortly.

Not, of course, before fixing the slipshod work she dared call a splint. And stay out! he'd yelled. I don't want to see your face here for at least two weeks, you hear me?

Gleefully, she flipped him off. In front of the kid, too.

Now the bed made a despondent creak as it accommodated Raph's weight. The heft of his new prosthetic confounded him, made him bump into corners, and accidentally crush people's fingers with his brand-new strength.

"Alright, bossman," Donnie sighed. Only 2:30 PM and he felt like he'd lived through a week. "You're up."

Raph managed to lie down. He took one look up at Donnie's world-weary face and smirked. "Chewed you out, didn't he."

"Yeah, well someone had to go and gab."

Donnie got his face squished like a grape for that. "Someone keeps forgetting I'm still the oldest. I may not be your leader, but you guys are still my pain in the ass. Knew you were up to something foolish. So fess up." Donnie made an indignant, muffled sound under Raph's bear hand. "What?"

Donnie gasped as Raph released him. "I was saying, Mikey needs his cooking essentials, and I need mine. We have a mutually beneficial partnership going on. That's all." He pulled his goggles down. "He's also my favorite brother, so." Meant: what Mikey wants, Mikey gets.

"Well, Mikey's going to be the death of you, at this rate." Raph narrowed his eyes. "But it looks like Leo took care of it, whatever that was. If I hear about you mutating any more leafy freaks though—"

Donnie's robo-arms, which had branched off from his shell to get to work on the prosthetic, paused mid-air as Donnie choked. "You dare speak ill of my daughter! Cristina, my beautiful venus fly trap, gone too soon—you will never understand! She was nature's most remarkable survivor, evolved to persist in nutrient-poor environments to fancy a pound of flesh." Donnie's gaze turned wistful. "I was so close, Raphael. Only a few experiments left before I rewired her wetware to develop a taste for vile Kraang meat."

"Nothing about that sentence terrifies me at all," Raph said.

"That is why you are my favorite patient. How was your week?"

Raph's head flopped back on the bed. "Shit. Where to begin?" He talked as Donnie tuned up his arm, telling him about the kid from the dumpster, the only miracle in the last few crappy, mind-numbing weeks; the Tamagotchi he and Cassandra found, still-slumbering in its million light year sleep; new Kraang-free patrol routes, and more secret pathways he'd negotiated with the help of the alliance; a dusty Walkman, a Foo Fighters cassette left in, for keeps.

In exchange, Donnie rambled on about their food supply, his EPF meeting notes, a hoverboard for Mikey, but under wraps for now, the new stealth gear prototypes he'd hoped would pass beta-testing soon, if only he'd more time to collect materials—

"Dee," Raph laughed up at him. “This isn’t one of your roundtable meetings, okay? It’s just me."

Donnie tightened a loose screw under Raph's armpit. "Oh, uh, of course. Lift your arm?"

Raph lifted it. "Oh yeah. Way better."

"Excellent. Your gait isn't as natural as I hoped, but I'll replace the hardware with lighter materials soon."

"Appreciate it, Dee. How'd you find time to get all this stuff?"

"I multitask. Wiggle your thumb?"

Raph wiggled it. "You getting enough sleep, though?"

Donnie laughed, too loud. "Squeeze your fist?"

"Seriously. How're things holding up?"

Donnie peered into a magnifying glass one of his shell-arms slid under his nose and poked around Raph's inner elbow, then fibula. "Truth be told? I'm surprised Earth Protection let us off easy today; then again, I am the brains behind this entire operation. It'd be amiss to threaten their very own arms provider. I should've known Mikey would pull something like this, but I'm just glad to see him—"

“I mean—how are you doing, Donnie?"

“Me?" Donnie blinked slow, like he'd never heard that sentence in that order before. "I'm fine. Can we try some wrist rotations?"

Unimpressed, Raph did as told. The motion was stilted; it couldn't do a full 360. The magnifying glass was swapped for a fine-toothed wrench.

"I'll fix that," Donnie said, then faltered when he realized Raph was still waiting on him, the weight in his eyes undeniable. "What? It's true."

And it was; confessions around Raph were easy somehow. Like how last night, Donnie had admitted thinking he'd definitely hit his rebellious edgy teenage phase under Splinter—heck, even Raph himself—but Leo? Now there was a surprise. And how the cookies Mikey baked Donnie made him break out. Some kind of delayed turtle allergy, and he'd kept eating the stuff anyway. How he both hated and secretly loved listening to Leo's radio speeches, in the secret early hours of dawn when the base and his own brain was still, in need of nothing.

Raph asked him again, but this was one confession Donnie couldn't give up. It was half-formed, bloody, still stuck in the wreck. Donnie couldn't look at it yet.

"Seriously, brother, you should see Mikey—" Donnie began, but the bed creaked like a warning, and Raph was pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I'm worried about Mike, too. But we'll get to him in a bit. You idiots are two sides of the same coin, really. I mean, I haven't seen the kid cry since—"

Donnie dropped his wrench. He stared at it for a moment, then bent to pick it up. When he moved back to his seat Raph's gaze settled on him, kind and all-knowing, with a quiet sort of power that could disassemble any man.

"Sooner or later we gotta talk about this, Dee." Raph touched his head. "'S'not your fault. If Pops was here—"

"Don't," Donnie said. "Please."

Somewhere, Unnamed Baby burst into a fit of giggly baby gibberish; Cassandra needed to hurry it up with a name soon, and it had to be good, or they were all going to have a fifth Renaissance man running around the base. The exoskeleton on Raph's arm exuded no blood-warmth. But it curled around Donnie's wrist like a bolstering force all the same.

Donnie's hands began to shake.

"Donnie," Raph said. "Hey. It's alright now."

Donnie hunched his shoulders in, determined to finish the wiring on the inner elbow. "I'll get better materials soon."

"Don't matter right now—"

"This part right here—the socket hurts when it gets cold, doesn't it? I'll find something more durable before winter rolls in. I'll fix it. I promise."

Raph's flesh arm gripped his shoulder. "I know you will."

Donnie shook his head like Raph didn’t understand. His face felt hot, his own hands numb and not his, like the day he dragged Raph out from under the burning wreck of their lair, around them a bloodshot sky that fishbowled from its own weight. A red blistering eye in the sky, and how he ran. He ran like hell. “And I’m gonna make you the best.”

Raph stared at him. “The coolest fucking arm in the world,” he agreed.

“Damn right," Donnie rasped.

This was a hug; Donnie was sure that what was happening. But the awkward way Raph half-sat up and curled around his slouched shell was still disputable. "But," Raph said, "just for the record? I think this one's awesome, too."

Donnie scrubbed his eyes, feeling miserable. "You haven't even seen the best part," he mumbled, then showed him the secret button where a fourth, extra finger could be triggered.

Raph stared and stared at what had only been a life's dream, until now. Now, the possibilities were opening up. "Shit, Dee. I'll do you proud," Raph promised, lifting his middle finger in the air, and Donnie didn't doubt it. Never could. It was Raph.

:::

Mikey crashed face-first with a muffled screech into a patch of soft, loamy earth, and that was how he knew he was a long way from home. A quiet valley greeted him on the other side of the mystic gateway. Gone were the sparse desert plains, the arid, sun-choked skies. No angry Leo either.

He was lost, but there was that.

And he still had his stash with him.

Victory dance it was. After he grew tired of shaking his shell, he looked around at the landscape properly and nearly collapsed.

"Cabbages?" he cried. The farm was the size of a small swimming pool, with only eight rows of intersecting crops and one house with a thatched roof at the center. Nothing like the mind-blowing stretch of sand at home, or the imposing domes of The Gardens. But it had cabbages. Mikey needed cabbages. These looked a little small, but their puckered faces opened up to him like rosebuds; Mikey knew a miracle when he saw one.

"Excuse me!" he called out. "You have a lovely farm! Would you be able to spare some of your bee-you-ti-ful cabbages? I need it for a dish!"

For my annoying no-fun older brother, Mikey didn't add. He threw the bag down from his shoulder and reached his arm to snag its contents. "I'll trade ya for it? I got the goods!"

A windchime blew. A breeze, barely there, carded through the crops. Mikey could count on two hands the places still untouched by the invasion; the Kraang must have business elsewhere.

"Anyone?" Mikey approached the house. A toy car was on the ground, wheels still spinning. Someone had been here. "Oh, I get it! I'm not with the Kraang, don't worry! Name's Mikey! Just your friendly neighborhood mutant turtle, at your service."

He thought he saw the curtains behind the window rustle. The word on the doorjamb was strange; Mikey swore he recognized that alphabet system somewhere.

"Erm, you've probably heard of us. Or my brother? Leonardo?" Mikey was at the window now. Wild grass crunched beneath his feet. "Bright blue bandana, cool sword, used to be smiley but not really anymore—saved New York? No? Oh, okay. Well, rescuing people's kind of our thing. You could join us! It's not safe out here."

"We can take care of our own." Came the sudden voice, gruff and dark behind the door. The curtains at the window parted. Two small heads poked out, inquisitive eyes studying him. And on their faces: beaks.

Yokai.

Mikey swallowed; there hadn't been a lot to meet, not after the Hidden City invasion. As far as Draxum told him, they had scattered themselves like leaves.

"Please, I insist," Mikey said. "My brothers—we have a safehouse, you'll be protected—"

"Just take what you need and go, kappa," the voice said. We don't consort with humans. We've always taken care of ourselves."

"Well, if you change your mind..." Mikey kicked at a pebble. "I'll come back! I'd draw you a map, but... safety-wise, that's probably not a good idea. So, uh. I'll help myself then?"

Nothing. Silence means yes, Mikey thought, and took his fill. He shook the soil from his hands and called out his thanks before starting down the path; Donnie's trackers would find him eventually, followed by his getaway ride, a speck of purple in the clouds. Donnie always found him.

Twenty steps. Then he paused, considering the sky. He didn't mean to turn back, but the soil there felt acidic and coarse, tell-tale signals that the farm would be barren soon; and if it wasn't from climate change, it would be the Kraang themselves, then what would be left? 

Blowing out a breath, Mikey dropped his hoard by the stranger's doorstep.

"We would've made magic together. I just know it," he whispered regrettably, patting its side like an old friend. Empty-handed, he turned to go.

He could always get more stuff; Donnie had negotiated for him, after all. Before he could get far, a creaky hinge groaned, and the yokai was there, leaning on the door jamb.

"Michelangelo, wasn't it? We know who you are." The stranger towered over him. A tough crocodile snout belied an intelligent voice. "Your brothers, as well. But you... well. They say you're special. Is it true you can summon the sun itself?"

Mikey half-laughed, half-wheezed. "Wh—me?"

The stranger considered him. "They say you're growing to be the greatest warriors the world has ever known. Granted with extraordinary power."

I don't want it, Mikey thought, surprised by the fierceness of it. I never asked for it.

The children were still watching him from the window. "They say you'll save us all," the yokai continued. "A lofty fate. Wouldn't you say, ronin?"

I don't want it, Mikey thought, reaching into the depths of him for a shaky smile. Take it from me. Give me my father back.

He shrugged, then turned down the path, watching the clouds for the telltale signs of his brother. "Just Mikey's fine," he insisted, waving goodbye, and this time did not look back.

#big brother leo is here UH OH #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt movie #rottmnt fic #rise mikey #rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph #rise april #oh fuck i put a lot of characters in this #this chapter was so dialogue heavy it almost killed me #but i had a blast <3 not them tho they're abt to have their corruption arc shhh #bigdamnher0

[greypetrel]

HI ARJA please tell me about lights will guide you home 👀

Hi zen! :D

Thanks for asking and of course!

Some WIPs here...

It's the first chapter of the long-ago announced DadWolf fic. We are getting the bros home!

I have an outline and a plot, and tho I want to conclude Dark Lady before starting to post it, I'm getting on with it. I'm embracing the fact that titling things is stressful, so each chapter will have a song quote to catch the vibes.

I'm almost done, I just need to finish writing how the blorbos actually became friends (short-circuiting the wiring in the house for the lolz, for now, but I could change my mind).

A snippet under the cut!

Solas hated the Chantry. One thing was moving politically for a restoration of the Circles, having mages guarded day and night lest they got possessed by demons. As if it was something that happened easily and on accident. One thing was moving politically to have them restored… The other was forcing the hands of politics using a Dalish child that survived the murder of her whole clan. In mysterious circumstances that everyone knew was just a euphemism to say they got in the middle of a fight and acted as the scapegoat in Wycome. Finally alone, anyway, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he slowly walked towards the child, still curled on herself in her corner, whimpering between herself and trembling like a leaf. He had no idea about how to talk to children, let alone Dalish ones. When he tried to approach a clan, right after he woke, it went very poorly. But she was, hopefully, too little to have the prejudices he met ingrained in her mind. And after all, his plan was freeing his people. He could try and start from her. Sitting down to get to her level seemed a good idea. “Hello.” He said, in Elvhen, slowing down his speech. The language changed in the ages he spent asleep, but maybe… The child didn’t reply. The child, actually, acted like he didn’t exist, going on crying on herself, not even moving to look at him. “That lightning you evoked was very impressive.” He went on. “Can you show me again?” No reply either. The child, tho, hugged herself tighter, letting out a whimper. “You see… I’m a mage as well.” He extended a hand and… What did children like these days? What did children like in his days? He tried with sparkles, in yellow and blue and purple, dance in the air, crackling slightly to signal something was happening even if the child wasn’t looking. Malcolm always evoked sparkles to entertain the twins, after all, and the twins had been delighted. Maybe it would have worked with this child as well. Ah. She slowly turned her head, a big eye peeking out of her knee, shiny with tears and greener in contrast to how red it was. She looked at his face with fear and suspicion, and it put Solas instantly ill at ease. At least, tho, she was looking at him, which was a step forward. “You did well in trying to defend yourself.” He explained, talking as slower and as clearly as he could. “But you see, that horrible Mother isn’t happy about it. You should be less conspicuous about it. Which comes a little difficult when you wield lightning, but we can work on it. I could return here and teach you, what do you think?”

#petrel replies #wip wednesday #dadwolf au #there IS a fic and I'm writing it I'm just trying not to complicate my life juggling two long fics at once :"D #... well not again.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

Hehe hi Pik :0 I'll give you three questions for your ask game and you can pick out whatever you want to answer <:]

What are your thoughts on Kaigaku? I know he's a bit of spoiler territory but I'm curious .. or maybe what are your thoughts on Muichiro? You decide!

A question just for me, though ,, do YOU have a favorite bird? .., !!

oh abolutely HYSTERICAL to give a pick scenario and then lay down topics that will instantly get me to talk for hours on end at the drop of a hat KSJNGFKDJNGKD

so!! the easy one!! my favorite bird, ithink, is between the mourning dove and the house sparrow! they are not terribly glamorous but i love them so so dearly and will instantly cheer up when i think about them :')

as for the character questions. thank you for enabling me HJBSJFBJD

i could very very easily write an entire goddamn essay about Either of them, but for the sake of saving whatever brevity i can manage to keep, ill save talking abt mui for when That Episode(tm) drops whenever it does, because inevitebly, i will be Absolutely Inconsolable and it Will happen anyway KJNDKGDF

instead, for now, under a cut because this preamble is already paragraphs long... kaigaku.

i fucking hate this man. i cannot stand him, hes the worst, he is so fucking stupid, i think about him fucking constantly, and he is one of my favorites. he is so fucking insufferable, and i love him!

ok so. getting into kny, i was like. immediately a zenitsu liker. like i saw him and went "god. fuck. shit. its gonna be this nerd i dont even know about yet and i can feel it already." (i was right.) which is Crucial to knowing the angle here. and when i got to his part in th manga, i . genuinely dont remember if i even thought too hard about him. i dont even remember when i Did, i just know that he Wasnt there, and then he Was, and he Never Fucking Left KSJNKDJGN

which is very very fucking funny, considering... how much of a character he straight up Isnt.

like yeah! he sure does show up in a flashback and then fights zen and dies about it! it takes like, a two chapters max! and the entire time, his only character trait is "bitch for no reason." like... that sure isn't a lot to go off of. so like... why? i guess thats kind of the answer in and of itself.

why is he like this? why is he like this?? what made him this way? we know he grew up orphaned, but why? we knew he turned on gyomei's group and ran, but why? we know he trained to be a demon slayer with zen and kuwajima, but why? why, why, why? we just don't know.

we know he's a survivalist. we know that he's willing to go to any lengths, stoop to any lows, just to make it another day. because another day is another chance you get to get them back, to prove them wrong, to rise above it and laugh in their faces and say "see? see what im capable of? bet you feel sorry now."

shame doesnt exist to him. he will make Anything of himself just to make it by. do anything, drop anyone. no connections, impermanence. its clear in flashbacks that, honestly... nobody liked him very much. and like, well, yeah. obviously. he sucks, and he isnt afraid to show it. but isnt that just so strange? broken box of happiness, disatisfaction. he refuses to forge connections, claiming the only people he tolerates are those who respect him, who see his worth.

and that's... the weird thing about him. see, because, the thing is that... i don't fucking believe him for a second. he talks big game, he can back it up, sure, especially as a demon, but... the entire time he talks, every word he says during his confrontation with zen just felt like a bluff. like he's trying to sound threatening, to sound powerful, making a threat display like an animal. every technique he chooses to execute is some new, big, flashy display of his Power, talking, taunting, still taunting.

its a lot of reading between lines, but... this man is a fucking liar. that fight felt different, it felt quick, and well... maybe because it wasn't a fight. this was some guy taking out his anger on someone in a desperate attempt to prove he's worth something.

i just think that this man is a deeply jealous bastard intent on making himself seem larger than he really is, convincing himself that he's the one that's right and it's everyone else that's wrong simply because he can't process just how awful he is.

growing up barely scraping by on his own, of course he'd become painfully self-reliant. of course he would take advantage of anything he could, anyone he could. you'd have to be that self-centered to survive. talk big, act big, nobody will mess with you. nobody can take advantage of you if you take advantage of them first.

and when he gets shown that kindness, being taken in for the first time... of course he'd take advantage of them too. he's hard-wired with instability in mind, so obviously the clear answer is to take what you can and go before something else happens and they get to you first (even if that was never really a threat.) and if they throw you out for it? it's just proof you were right. you were always right, clearly it isn't your fault. and if you happen to throw them under the bus for it... well, obviously they deserved it. there's no reason to think about it anymore.

being with kuwajima was fine. we don't know anything about the earlier days (which im so sad about) but from the looks of it, he was doing fine. about as fine as he could be, at least. he clearly respected him at first, enjoyed being treated as something special, having his work and talents appreciated-- which he did have! he was a staggeringly impressive slayer, but that's an aside-- and even berated zenitsu for supposedly "disrespecting him" by referring to him as jiichan. which. sighs.

so, zenitsu. dynamics Of Ever. honestly, even without the whole Contention there, kai would've just kinda disliked him because he's... motions with hand. look at him. but its the fact that they were considered together that pissed kaigaku off so much. because that implied that they were on the same level when, to him, they so very clearly were not.

zenitsu was annoying. he was weak, whined too much, cried too much, never put in any effot, he was so, so annoying. which made it that much more insulting that jiichan would continue to try to train him. just leave him behind already! he keeps trying to run away, let him! obviously he just isn't good enough. he's not special like he was. and yet, kuwajima kept trying.

and the fact that he did... probably completely went against everything kaigaku saw in the way the world worked. for lack of a better term, he was very "survival of the fittest" minded in that, if you weren't good, you just weren't good. you'd try and struggle and inevitably die off. the world isn't kind, and will take any chance it has to kick you down. that's why you take what you can, when you can.

if you're weak, nobody helps you. if nobody helps you, you either help yourself or die silently. that was what separated the weak and the strong. and you always, always were either one or the other. again, that's his survivalism talking. so, seeing this person he at the very least Respected waste time on some nobody instead of him, expecting something to come of it... well, it was insulting!

and to think that they were even anywhere close enough to put together? to share the title of successor? with this guy? either it meant that kuwajima thought zenitsu was as good as kai was (to him, a laughable idea,) or that kai wasn't any better than some kid who could barely swing a sword. and that was what irritated him the most.

that was the point of their final confrontation. it was kaigaku proving, once and for all, finally, that he was better than zenitsu. was it purely out of hatred for this kid who looked up to him like a brother? was it out of jealousy of someone who got so many kindnesses granted to him despite, to him, not really deserving it? was it just to prove that he was a powerful demon to those who now had their eyes on him, too? whatever it was, at its core... it was laughing in the faces of those who, honestly, genuinely cared about him (and in his eyes, never truly did.)

he could've ended that fight whenever he wanted to-- its even stated in canon that zen wouldve just lost if he was given more time to grow-- but... he just kept showing off. kept talking. it didnt feel like he was using techniques to fit the combat-- it felt like he was showing off what he could do now. he was proving a point. the only thing that stopped him was what he never acknowledged back when they were training together-- that zenitsu did have worth. that he was growing, too. and using what kaigaku refused to acknowledge in him, zenitsu cut him down-- with a symbol of the respect and comraderie that he hoped to have together. a "sorry, aniki."

kaigaku's appearance in canon is less of the role of a character, but as a statement. hes a walking tragedy. he pushes away everything that makes life What It Is in favor of this image of Strength, which is exactly why he becomes-- at first glance-- a caricature. he stops being a person and starts being a Thing. zen tries to keep him in mind as a Person (despite it all) but when he ultimately gives up hope is when the encounter ends. and when kai's role ends as well.

the only thing i still wonder is... does he regret it? in the very depths of his mind, behind all that mess he puts up, after throwing everything away... did he regret it? twice, he was shown care and kindness, and twice he betrayed them. does he know? does he regret it? does he have the capacity to? or has he simply committed so hard to the role he was given-- to the role he put himself in-- that he simply cannot fathom a world in which he was the problem? could it have been different?

put simply... what the fuck is wrong with him?

. anyway, heres a bunch of posts that remind me of him.

#ask game #pikramble #piktalk #kny spoilers #UM. VERY LONG POST; I DID ACTUALLY END UP TALKING FOR HOURS SKJFNKD #IM. SO SORRY. SLEEPER AGENT ACTIVATED. THANK YOU <3333 #THERES SO MUCH I DIDNT GO INTO TOO LIKE #his weird 'everyone is either above or below me' thing that he switches btwn on a dime #or how he has his sword on his back-- in a technique so focused on quick drawing-- #so committed to doing things his way that hell actively hinder himself and how that reflects his whole character #OR OR OR!!! AUHGUHGG #CANT FUCKING STAND HIM. GOD. #so anyway he's one of my 5 rotating favorites. thankyou <333

[yenforfairytales]

Terry Silver + Unknown Caller Theory

Strap in my fellow feral Silverusso, we going for a long ride!

I mean... why in the world would a billionaire presumably keep the same number he had from the 80's AND answer an Unknown number...

BECAUSE HE WAS HOPING IT WAS DANIEL

Look at his reaction to the phone call:

There's a slight hesitation before he answers

He grabs it as if ripping off a bandaid (strike first!)

He answers a little hopefully but cautiously. I'm going to assume not many people have his personal cell

By the time Kreese starts to say 'Long', Terry is already pulling the phone away from his ear

After Terry hangs up, his arm drops heavily and his shoulders slump in disappointment

He goes right back to his music without skipping a beat. Which the actor has said is a way Terry distracts himself from feeling

Obviously we know that he wasn't happy to hear from John Kreese. And because we know that they spoke over the phone in KK3 - more specifically that Terry did indeed have a cell phone in 1985 - it's not unreasonable to assume that Kreese remembered Terry's number. But that only works if Terry never changed his number. Which is possible.

Knowing Terry his number is probably a pun of his name or something lol

Anyway, what I'm getting at is-- If Terry did not want to hear from Kreese, then why didn't he change his number?

I think it's fair to say that a billionaire wouldn't give out his number to just anyone. And the only other person from his past that we've seen is Daniel LaRusso. They had to set up times to meet up sometimes, right?

Ok maybe I'm reaching a bit

But c'mon! Over the course of almost forty years, it would be nothing to change your phone number. Easy peasy.

And it appears that Daniel was not far from his thoughts. Nothing forgotten. Terry was very aware of Daniel's car commercials to the point that he knew their catchphrase. Terry IMMEDIATELY refers to Daniel as 'Danny boy'. Like it was yesterday.

There was no: "What was that nickname I used to call him...?" And it's been said but, he was happy to see Daniel as opposed to angry at seeing Kreese.

So it's not crazy to believe that he kept that line of communication open. Boy, what I would give to see some of Terry's therapy sessions.

Now on the other side of that, it's perfectly reasonable to think that Daniel changed his number many times lol. He kind of lived like a nomad, not much money, probably was afraid of Terry contacting him. Daniel tells Johnny that he never heard from Terry again. You could take that to mean that he half-expected it. Heard from him how, Daniel?

But Yen, you may ask, why didn't Terry ever call Daniel if he did indeed keep that line open on purpose?

Well, take Mike Barnes for example. He tells Daniel that there were many times he wanted to reach out to Daniel to apologize, but was afraid of "triggering" something painful in Daniel. And since Terry went to therapy, he was probably told something similar. Terry did say that he understood Daniel's initial angry reaction, but still tried to appeal and apologize.

Maybe a part of Terry always hoped that-- when Daniel was ready, then they could talk. So he kept his number, the last number he knew Daniel had, just in case.

Then there's the UNKNOWN part of all this. You can't convince me that Terry Silver, of all people, wouldn't know every single last person who had access to his personal phone number. Meticulous and two steps ahead of everyone, Terry Silver.

And so

Why on Earth would he answer an Unknown caller? Why not let it go to voicemail? Why not hang up and consider it a telemarketer or something?

Because he knows who has his number. And out of two long lost friends there was only one that he was hoping to hear from.

Is my thinking anyway.

NOT TO MENTION. NOT TO MENTION THAT TERRY WAS WEARING RED DURING THAT SCENE.

Facing a very zen garden I may add

When we see Terry with Kreese, even in KK3, he wears more yellow, black, it's the Cobra Kai colors

DANIEL was the one who wore red all the time. It's in his name- LaRusso. But that's a post rant for another time. Because throughout the rest of Season 4, Terry never wears red again.

Anyhoo, I'm going to randomly talk about Terry's silk robes now lmao.

So... since it looks like Terry started his morning by playing the piano, seemingly right out of bed, threw on a robe etc, can we infer that he was shirtless under there?

I mean, we got to see him getting ready for bed here:

In nothing but a robe and sleep pants.

I must accept that he plays the piano shirtless like the sexy god he is 🚬

And studiously ignore how lonely he must be, going to bed alone and waking up alone, enough that he must play a difficult song on his piano first thing in the morning to distract himself from his thoughts and emotions, since he can no longer numb the pain and loneliness with drugs and violence. 🚬

Cheyenne doesn't count because she didn't seem to fill the void either. TiG said it was mostly the music and art collecting for Terry. No mention of beautiful women. Hmm.

This post got away from me. What was I talking about

What do you guys think? I love this show too much? Agreed!

#cobra kai #daniel larusso #terry silver #silverusso #on my shit again #long post is long #but can the writers explain a thing pls #ck meta #kinda #my post #the most compelling relationship of the series tbh