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aeonmagnus · 3 years

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Happy 20th Anniversary Robots In Disguise!

This year, and today in particular, marks the 20-year anniversary of Transformers Robots in Disguise airing in the United States. This was the official English language dub of the Japanese show Transformers Car Robots, which aired in Japan the year before. This show and it’s accompanying toy line were a big shift in the Transformers brand and affected how things moved forward in the new millennium. It was also a big influence on me and this website in it’s early years, so both the brand and TFW2005 may not be what it is today without it.

We hope you will read on after the break to check out our celebration of Robots in Disguise on it’s 20th!

Intro

The following is not a comprehensive article on the show proper, but rather a trip down memory lane from my personal perspective. It was a period of change in my life, in the fandom, in the brand, and in the world – all happening at once. Robots in Disguise was smack dab in the middle of it all and I think that’s why it still resonates with me all these years later. For a deeper dive into the world of Robots In Disguise you can check RIDForever.info, a site I maintain just about RID and Car Robots. The 2021 updates are here, and the 2017 round of updates are here. I’d also suggest checking the TFWe issue all about RID over on the 2005 Boards. Now, onto today’s festivities…

The Show

RID, and yes I say RID as if it is the only RID. If you must reference that other RID show and it’s off-shoots, refer to it as RID 201x, thanks. 😊 RID aired during the Fox Kids programming block on a Saturday morning, with additional episodes set to air each weekday during the afternoon hours. Instead of stretching the show out over the course of 30+ weeks with only a new ep each weekend, they were going to blaze through it non-stop. By the end of the first week, we would have been 7 eps in. That however hit a big roadblock due to 9/11 just three days later. While some local markets did air the episodes, many larger city networks, and especially east coast markets, stuck with news coverage. Many of us did not catch the early episodes on TV the first go around. In addition, several of the episodes got pulled from TV due to depictions of buildings being destroyed and other similar visuals which understandably could upset children that just experienced 9/11. So right off the bat, the new millennium and new era of Transformers were dealing with a new reality.

The show, for those that don’t know – was a weird one-off in Transformers history. We had G1 and then the G2 remixes for a bit. Beast Wars came on the scene and ran all the way through 2000 with it’s successor – Beast Machines. During the Beast Wars era – Japan did a couple of their own Beast Wars shows, non-CGI extensions of what we saw in the US. Their market wasn’t quite ready for full CGI so they stuck with traditional anime. When Hasbro decided to continue Beast Wars into Beast Machines, Takara went a completely different way – a traditional animated show which brought back Autobots and “Decepticons”, mixing them in with the beasts. They focused the toys on a couple new and complex molds, then filled the rest of the line with repaints of previous toys. Old 2nd tier Beast Wars toys, G2 Laser Prime, and even some Generation 1 molds in the form of the Combaticons got new life as new characters in this show, capped with the biggest TF of them all at the time – a repainted G1 Fortress Maximus, now Brave Maximus. It was the prototype for what the Transformers brand did for years to come – repainting old toys into new characters. Universe, Classics, Botcon, and even some Generations runs used this method to give us some great toys in the 00s.

While there is a very complicated and long explanation for how every single Japanese show is one continuity, to someone casually starting with Car Robots it was a refresh, a new story, a new arrival on Earth. The Autobots vs the Predacons, and eventually the Combatrons/Decepticons. It was a hard cut from the last 5 years or so of CGI Beasts. Hand drawn traditional animation featuring vehicle Transformers. It wasn’t G1, but many of the folks who grew up with G1 were just getting out of college around this time. They were rediscovering their childhood love of Transformers through Beast Wars, flea market finds, raids on their parents’ attics and basements, and for the internet savvy – imports of Japanese reissues from Takara. It was a perfect storm of nostalgia; a return to Autobots and Decepticons was welcomed by kids and adults alike.

RID and TFW2005

In the years leading up to Car Robots, I was just getting into the internet, coding, design, some digital music, and all the possibility that came with it. Beast Wars, especially when it hit Season 2/3 and the inclusion of G1 lore, really got me focusing on Transformers again as a hobby. I eventually combined the two newfound hobbies into one and Transformer World 2005 was born. At no point did I ever think it would last 20+ years and take over my life in the way it did. I started the full version of TFW2005 around April 2000, with some starts and stops before that. That was right around when Car Robots started airing in Japan. Through the magic of 56k internet, I was able to connect with folks in Japan and get them to send me VHS tapes of Car Robots. Really nice, high-quality tapes too, I still have them hehe. To the younglings reading – try to picture this: no youtube, no video sharing. The concept of streaming anything did not exist yet. Napster and the eventual peer to peer stuff hadn’t fully kicked off. Plus, we were all viewing the internet on giant computers in our rooms at the speed of 1x on your phone. Less than 1 bar 3G mobile speeds today.

Yes, someone recorded episodes from TV to video tape over there, did that a couple weeks at a time, then physically mailed them across the world to me, who then got them on the internet. Can you imagine waiting weeks to watch an episode of TV the size of a twitter profile avatar? Crazy. Uploading a full episode to the internet was a big pain in the ass, not easily done. I decided to get a converter that allowed me to plug my VCR into the computer and encode the tape into digital format. From there, it was reduced using Microsoft’s WMV technology so that the episodes were about 5 MB each. 30 minute episodes at 5MB each. Dimensions – 176 x 144 pixels. 4k video today – 3840 x 2160 pixels. You can imagine that video looked like crap. But we didn’t care – we were blown away. Old school animation, vehicles, some cool Japanese anime vibes, it was what we as G1 fans kinda had in the back of our heads on what Transformers should be in a new era, and we were seeing it. Most of us had no clue what they were saying or what was going on. Also didn’t care. I still to this day think CR/RID is better like that.

So one of the first things TFW2005 did on the internet was provide these super small windows into Car Robots and what was going on in Japan. It helped get US fans hyped up for what Transformers could be. It got us wanting the toys, and importers bringing the Takara toy line over were moving serious product. It helped swing Hasbro, who was planning to return to Autobots and Decepticons again down the road, to move that schedule up. Instead of running Beast Machines until 2002 and then starting what we now know as the Unicron Trilogy, it was cut short. Robots in Disguise as a toy line and show came over in 2001, ran fast and hard for a year with non stop releases, got extended because it did so well, and then faded into the Universe line of repaints. The new millennium of Transformers was here and Robot In Disguise kicked it off with a bang.

Wrap Up

As we all continue with collecting Transformers now, regardless if you tagged into the fandom during G1, Beasties, the Unicron Trilogy, the Movies, or just yesterday – let’s take the time to give Car Robots and RID some props! It set the tone for what the new millennium of the brand would be. It gave us some toys ahead of their time. It solidified the repaint as an accepted thing in the hobby. And it gave us one crazy 39 episode run of TV that’s still a fun ride 20 years later.

For those that would like to learn more about RID and Car Robots – I still maintain a Robots in Disguise website that archives everything I have or came across. There is a lot there if you want to go on a tour of all the awesome Car Robots and Robots In Disguise era stuff. Check it out at RIDFOREVER.INFO! FIYAH!

Let us know what you think and remember from the good old days of RID on the 2005 Boards here!

Epilogue

If someone over there at Hasbro is reading – can someone please figure out who owns the rights to the show in the US market and then get it out on DVD in full, finally? Work all that funky licensing stuff out (if there is any) and get it done. The US has never had access to it via an official release. Maybe get it up on YouTube like G1? Something. Announcing plans for that before the end of 2021 would be a nice 20th anniversary tribute.

#Transformers #Transformers: Robots in Disguise #20th Anniversary #Robots in Disguise #Optimus Prime #Megatron #Car Robots #Transformers: Car Robots

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myjjbaby · 4 years

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okay so the idea is reader taking one (or many) of jj's shirts without asking him, and every time he sees her with one of his shirts on he's like 🥺🥺 and finally she says she likes his smell and wears them because of that and idk some fluff (sorry if this is bad it was just an idea i had)

white t-shirt

author’s note - this kinda deviated from the original request but it just happened because your girl is angsty. happy first time writing in a month to me!! (apologies in advance im rusty). thank you to lisa @angellissy for being my hype woman as much as im yours because this wouldn't happen without you so. couple folks who i love who asked to be tagged so: @baby-bearie @dpaccione (taglist? yes or no? someone want to teach me how?) please also know that even as my dash returns to normal and im writing this doesnt mean ive stopped or anyone else should stop advocating for black lives matter so please do all you can loves :))

synopsis - requested by @strkydrw! JJ isnt used to public affection and it creates a wedge between the two of you. which JJ isnt about to let happen.

warnings - mentions of anxiety, smidge of angst, and a swear cause i felt like it. 1.7k of comfort!boyfriend!JJ

JJ Maybank was not one for public displays of affection. He was so used to going it alone that he couldn’t fathom someone wanting to love him for the whole world to see. You were okay with it, really you were, it was just something that made the blonde who he was.

Through your time together he became more lenient. A short peck in front of the Pogues or rough fingertips brushing the skin of your waist when your shirt rose up at a kegger. He loved you and that’s all you could ask for.

But to say you weren’t needy for his affection would be a complete lie. Curling into his side at the Kook’s walk-in movie, being able to love on your perfect boy for the whole world to see, but little hand touches were enough for you if it meant JJ was yours.

You had a bad day. A crap day. Everything that could’ve gone wrong, did and now you want your boyfriend. You needed JJ’s arms to wrap you up and push all your worries away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

You were at a party at the Boneyard, like most summer nights on Outer Banks, and your personal security blanket was far too busy by the keg to take notice of you. Pope was sitting next to you on a piece of driftwood. The sweet boy had a knack for reading you and the Pogues like an open book. He could spot your glowering from just about anywhere.

“Pope, I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I’ll leave you alone when I believe you.”

“Pope,” he glared at you, “okay, okay.”

The two of you settled into a calm silence. Pope sipped at his plastic water bottle, which Kie had already ratted him for, and you fiddled with your fingers, relaxing at JJ’s smile in the distance. A frown slipped over your features just as quickly as your sweet smile had appeared.

“Y/N?”

Turning your head to the dark skinned boy, you appreciated his concerned smile but honestly you’d rather bask in your misery alone if you couldn’t have your blue-eyed boy.

“I’m gonna walk home,” Pope’s eyes followed your movement as you stood, “tell JJ for me?”

Now he knew something was off, though you and your boyfriend were never outwardly affectionate, Pope knew of the silent love you shared. The fact you didn’t want to tell JJ you were leaving nor grasped the opportunity to squeeze the blonde’s hand was unsettling.

He watched you slip away, staying out of the firelight so JJ had no chance of catching your departure. He waited until you disappeared over the dune and started your short walk back home before practically bounding across the beach and gripping JJ’s bicep.

“Woah Pope, quite the grip there.”

“Y/N went home.”

“What?”

“Y/N left.”

The blonde quickly scanned the sandy beach, eyebrows furrowing when he didn’t find your familiar figure. He glanced back at Pope.

“Do you know why?”

“She seemed upset.”

“What? Why didn’t sh-”

“I don’t know, but that’s not the point,” he flicked the side of JJ’s head, “the point is that your girlfriend needs you so bust a move.”

Pope barely got the last words out before the blue-eyed boy practically sprinted through the crowd.

You were a mess by the time you reached your familiar grey house with tears streaming down your cheekbones as the screen door slammed behind you. You pushed your way through the house, feeling your legs ready to give out under your weight.

You slipped out of your clothes and goosebumps rose across your skin, the summer breeze chilled against your tanned skin. Pushing your jackets and sundresses aside in your closet, you reached for the worn white t-shirt tucked behind the rest of your clothes. The stained Pelican Marina shirt was one of your prized possessions. JJ had asked you about the article of clothing before saying how he lost it and wondered if you had seen it.

You denied everything.

The t-shirt always calmed you, the smells of the salt air and JJ’s weed, it made you feel like you were curled up in his hold. With just his shirt on, you slid under your blankets and pulled the knitted fabric to your chin. You tried to ignore the wetness of your skin and the pinch in your chest that even JJ’s aroma couldn’t solve.

You were so distracted by your waves of emotions you nearly missed the soft revving of the motorbike in your driveway. Your heart clamped when you heard the soft murmurs between your boyfriend and your dad as they undoubtedly worried about your off demeanor.

“Y/N?”

Your breathing felt erratic as you quickly closed your eyes, praying you wouldn’t have to admit anything to JJ. You waited for him to leave after a soft sigh slipped through the crack beneath your door, but instead you heard the familiar creak of wood against rusted hinges.

You silently thanked your past self for laying down with your back to the wall because you knew you’d crack under JJ’s crystal gaze. Willing your lungs to settle, you felt his familiar warm touch settle over the fabric of his shirt you were wearing. The soft movement of his fingers kneading into your back nearly caused a whimper after longing for the boy’s touch for so long.

“Baby? I know you're awake.”

Mentally cursing your boyfriend, you rolled over to your side as JJ pressed his body closer to yours, practically laying on the bed now.

“Hi.”

“Hi sweet girl.”

He sweetly pressed his lips to the tip of your nose, smiling against the skin when he felt your cheek against his hand warm up. The blonde tried to pull back to admire your flushed features but you hid your face in his neck. You smiled when your actions emitted a chuckle from the boy which filled up the silence in your room.

This was what you wanted more than anything. Your perfect, loving JJ holding you close and kissing you tenderly, but not like this. You wanted to feel adored outside of the safety of closed doors and four walls, but that wouldn’t happen. You pouted at your ruined daydream.

“Hey, hey,” JJ felt your frown against his tanned skin, “baby, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N…”

“Really, it’s nothing, J, can we just forget it?”

“No.”

“J-”

“Tell me.”

You stayed silent, breathing in his presence, the pinch in your chest finally releasing.

“Baby, please?”

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

“What?”

He pulled away from your touch as he frantically searched for some kind of explanation in your eyes.

“Sweet girl? Why would you ever think that?”

“You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to force yourself to kiss me in front of your friends and you won’t talk to me, much less touch me in public. It’s like I’m dating different people, JJ. The boy I fell in love with and some guy who’d never give me the time of day.”

“Bab-”

“No,” you sat up, letting his once comforting arm slip off your body, “I had the worst day and everything was too much and I just needed you. I need you, JJ. But I didn’t even want to tell you because I was scared you were going to brush me off. I don’t want to have to think twice before going to you, I shouldn’t have to but I jus-”

You were cut off by a harsh sob that was building up in your throat throughout the day. The weight of everything pulling you down for too long. Your cries, however, were quickly muddled as JJ pulled you into his warm, taut chest. His pillowy lips pushed against your skin, shushing you in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Baby, I’m not embarrassed by you. For fuck’s sake, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to it, I guess. You love so proudly and the fact that I have you is overwhelming. I’ve never done this before, loving someone. I wish you had told me, sweet girl, I love you so much, angel. So much and if you need me to hold you or kiss you or whatever, just tell me, okay?”

You nodded against the soft fabric of his navy shirt, your sobs giving out to breathy whimpers. It was peaceful like that, the room completely dark except for the moon and stars shining through your curtains and your boy holding you tight as you laid on his chest. You leaned back to stare at his serene facial features and watched as he fiddled with the hem of your clothing.

“Baby?”

You hummed, settling back into the crook of his neck.

“Is this my shirt?”

“Umm, maybe?”

He felt your skin heat up against his and smirked, trying to catch your eye in the dim light.

“Why’d you take it?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted you with me when I couldn’t have you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweet girl, I like you in my clothes. And you can always have me, okay?”

You hummed again, drowsiness forcing your lids closed. JJ shivered as your eyelashes fluttered over the smooth skin of his neck.

“What do you think of wearing this to tomorrow’s boat day with everyone?”

He mumbled into the night, smiling at the idea of you laying out with his shirt announcing you were his, but his suggestion went unanswered because your were already fast asleep in the comfort of the blue-eyed boy’s arms.

#outer banks #jj maybank #outerbanksedit #masterlist #obxedit #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj x reader #jj maybank x y/n #i want a jj so someone please supply one #outer banks masterlist #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks

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everything-laito · 3 years

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the FBI agent looking at my computer must be so incredibly concerned. Here’s Laito and Cordelia analysis, Part II

Hiya, Corn here! This is Part II of this analysis series! Part one’s here!

Not getting into the trauma part of it yet. Just explaining abusive power dynamics and how incestuous relationships work. As well as Stockholm syndrome. Lovely! Lovely combo! Fuck!!!

Same trigger warnings as last time still apply!

As always, rant under the cuuuuut!

Ok, from last time, we’ve established the elements that were set in place for Cordelia to do this to Laito, when Laito’s trauma began, and the possible fact that he was groomed as a child for sexual exploitation. Wow. Yay. Amazing. This is so gross!!! Thanks, I hate it!!!! I know I usually cary these topics with just an informational tone but I just can’t with this ;lskfjklsajf But I’m here typing this, you’re here reading this, so let’s just get on with the grossness!

Section 3: Legal Definitions of Incest and Power Dynamics

Now we’re gonna get into the flesh of the problem, and what we know happened. From last time, and common DL knowledge, Laito was coerced into having sex with Cordelia. I say coerced, rather than forced, because it’s not like Laito seemed to resist it. He seems to “willingly” give Cordelia that. Is dubious consent, consent? Oh fuck no, and dubious or coerced consent shouldn’t even count in here considering it’s straight up incest. Any type of incest, most especially between a parent and a child, is not considered consensual, even if it “technically is.” That’s how it’s handled in a court of law, at least in America (where I’m from and reside in), and I do agree with that morally as well. A “romantic” and sexual relationship between a parent (or adult family member; aunt, grandfather, etc) and a child (is just gross) preys upon the power dynamic between them. This isn’t any consensual BDSM power dynamic (obviously), or a constructive power dynamic in the workplace; it’s just a power dynamic already instilled into the relationship where it is taken advantage of. That’s not just fucked up incest, that’s an example of a toxic relationship from the get go. Also, there’s a power dynamic usually between a parent and child, but that doesn’t mean it’s always toxic. It just needs to be done responsibly, which good parents (or any adult in power) know how to maneuver around it and not take advantage of it for manipulation etc.

In healthy relationships, you both start on equal ground. It usually never works out if you don’t see the other as an equal, whether you have a predisposed power dynamic at the beginning or not. I’m talking any relationship; family relationships, friendships, romantic, sexual, etc. Although you older folks might know about BDSM and how there’s a “power dynamic” instilled in the relationship, a chosen and consensual “power dynamic” still involves both parties seeing the other one as an equal––intrinsically. It’s just very different than a predisposed power dynamic. That even goes with friendship too! Or any kind of healthy, nontoxic social interaction! Taken directly from Psychology Today, “Shared power creates happy individuals and satisfying interactions.” People need to be on equal ground in order to have a healthy relationship. Which,,,, we know does not happen with Cordelia and Laito (and Laito and Yui for that matter, but that’s during another part of this series). An article I saw during the research of this explains further about how power dynamics can be constructive. This focuses more on the workplace, but it applies to this because it’s looking at the other person as another person (an equal) but uses that predisposed power for encouragement, empowerment, and constructiveness (like a good parent or adult role model would do). I hope this makes sense!

Basically Cordelia is abusing her power in order to do all this to Laito. That’s why grooming would make a lot of sense in this as well, because we know it’s definitely not the first time Cordelia has taken advantage of a power imbalance to her own selfish benefit. That’s why incest isn’t really explained with the same science as pedophilia. I forget if I’ve mentioned it before, but one way pedophilia can occur in a person if their brain was originally biologically wired in a way that sees children as sexual objects. With incest, it could also work like that as well, but it is mainly power abuse, like most sexual exploitation, harassment, assault, etc is.

Section 4: Incest (I’d make a sweet home Alabama joke but that’s low hanging fruit)

Ok so now that we’ve gone over the legality of incest, and how power dynamics can be taken advantage of, we’re gonna look into the type of incest (yes apparently there are types) that Cordelia and Laito fits into. Also if this already wasn’t clear or anything, hi incest and pedophilia etc are forms of abuse, there is no justifying it at all. It’s abuse, no matter what’s said. I know these are fictional characters but I sometimes see Ayato x Cordelia and Laito x Cordelia etc posts and I kinda just wanna commit heinous crimes whenever I see that. Just the idea of that absolutely sickens me (on top of the abuse shown in DL already). Anyways, after all of that out of the way, let’s go into this.

Since Laito is biologically 17, I’d say that he’s considered as a child (teenager) by demon world standards. We don’t know his age when Cordelia first physically exploited him, but we do know that his same “teenage” sprite is used during the flashbacks. Since his trauma fits so well with the aftermath definition of parent/child incest, I’m just gonna give y’all information on that. This is also called “child incestuous abuse,” which is also a form of child sexual abuse.

I learned an interesting factoid researching this, and that is in Japan, the most commonly believed incestuous relationship was between mothers and sons. In the West, we think of fathers/daughters. In Japan, the media covers more on mother/son incestuous acts; while statistically, more father/daughter incestuous acts are taken place. Just something interesting(?) I found, and probably why DL chose that for storytelling too.

In this Wikipedia article, taken from a scientific paper (I’d take it directly from the source but you need an account to get in and I think you need to pay for it), it says this:

A study of victims of father–daughter incest in the 1970s showed that there were "common features" within families before the occurrence of incest: estrangement between the mother and the daughter, extreme paternal dominance, and reassignment of some of the mother's traditional major family responsibility to the daughter.

Sure, this talks about father/daughter incestuous relationships, but if we take this and reverse most of the roles, it shows Laito’s situation to a T:

Estrangement between Karlheinz and Laito

Extreme maternal dominance (aka Cordelia being very abusive/manipulative)

Reassignment of some of the parental responsibility to Laito (there’s many examples of “big bro Laito,” and Ayato and Kanato considers that they used Laito as a “sacrifice”––as a “shield” for the both of them. Sure this isn’t explicit parental responsibility shown through Laito but I’d say he acts more like a family member to Ayato and Kanato too)

Section 5: Stockholm syndrome? With parental figures?

Laito had some interesting situations occur during this whole thing with Cordelia. One of the most infamous scenes from the game (that’s also illustrated in the HDB manga) is a flashback Laito has where he’s locked up, forced to see Cordelia and Richter have sex. He’s appalled by the fact at first, but then attempts to convince himself that he’s into it. However, I won’t get into the effects until the next part.

I didn’t find much about Stockholm syndrome being in this specific case with incest and kidnapping a child etc. When you look up Stockholm syndrome related to parents you get quite the sexist “article” that definitely mocks the whole Stockholm syndrome thing and makes fun of guys being into Glee and such,,,, so that wasn’t a very helpful article. However, I’m just gonna mish mash and put a lot of concepts that we’ve learned together. But first, a look into Stockholm syndrome.

Stockholm syndrome occurs when an abuse victim develops empathy or even intimate feelings for their abuser or captor. This happens because any bit of kindness the abuser enacts towards their victim is taken so positively, that the victim “forgets” all the negative actions, and focuses on the positive ones. This isn’t some sort of “oh ya gotta think positive!” kind of thing, it’s how abusers get away with their bullshit and how someone can be so trapped in a relationship with them. It’s also called traumatic bonding or victim brainwashing (source). This doesn’t always happen with people who are held hostage, like in Stockholm syndrome’s name origin.

A parent’s influence can be a strong one. Doesn’t even have to be related to by blood. But a figure that is supposed to be nurturing—whether they are or not—still has power over the “child.” He definitely went through Stockholm Syndrome himself with Cordelia, considering the grooming and the “love”/hate relationship he has with Cordelia. I did some more digging, and apparently Stockholm Syndrome can still occur more commonly with sexually abused victims. Which we all know he is. With the possible grooming, on top of the power abuse and sexual abuse, creates an incredibly toxic concoction. Here we go. The (rotten) cherry on top. Directly from my HDB notes, here’s a snippet from his Maniac Prologue:

Cordelia: Nnn…Hey, Laito. You are a good boy. Laito: …!! Cordelia: Right, Laito? Laito: Yeah, that’s right. I’m…I’m a good boy after all. ーー Besides, I’m the type of person who only get more aroused from this kind of thing.

(from my notes:) Basically Laito convinces himself to be a “cuckhold.” It’s definitely implied how he just wants approval from Cordelia; this is how this abuse prolongs.

(Also, if I ever said that Laito was locked up by Cordelia, my bad; it was Karlheinz who gave that order. I’m unsure where I ever said this, but I feel like I said it before, so I’m gonna clarify that right now too, oops! My memory hath failed me.)

Cordelia’s praise effects Laito in such a visceral way that he tries so hard to cope with the trauma in her favor. It’s incredibly messed up. But that’s the defining factor in this. From this, I do believe Laito has Stockholm syndrome on top of all of his issues.

I think I’m gonna end it here for now. Didn’t expect to be this long, oops. Stay tuned for next time, where I’m gonna go over Laito’s trauma and how he’s been effected by it. Thanks for reading, FBI agent! And oh, you as well, dear reader!

If you’ve read this far holy fuck I commend you -Corn

#analysis #Laito sakamaki #sakamaki laito #raito sakamaki #sakamaki raito #Cordelia sakamaki #sakamaki cordelia #diabolik lovers #dialovers #dialover #dl #corn pops off once again

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ot3tropetober · 4 years

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Eliot and Hardison are travel journalists for rival publications who keep showing up in the same places

Fic for this (~3500 words) is below the read more! Some notes:

[backstory on why Hardison is writing these comes from this post]

[Eliot, Parker, and Hardison are all commenting on this document, think of it like the chat in Google drive? In-document comments from Eliot are italicized, from Hardison are in bold, and from Parker are plain text]

By the time Will Coffey stepped off the plane in Dallas, all he wanted was a nice long shower and to sleep in his own bed for once. Being a travel journalist for a leading travel magazine had its perks– a month-long trip across Mexico, for example, all expenses paid or at least reimbursed – but after a month on the road he was dead tired and ready to be home.

Is this supposed to be me? Why am I living in Dallas?

Yes, and also, you don’t actually live in Dallas, Eliot, you live here, in Portland, with us.

I know that, I just– you know what, never mind.

Well, Will Coffey likes Dallas.

I am Will Coffey!!

That’s the spirit.

The other thing about being on the road for a living was that sometimes it felt kinda lonely, and as relieved as he was to be home, the first couple of minutes after he walked in, turned on the lights, and looked around at an empty place, that was always a little bittersweet. But the only other person he’d really seen in any kind of serious capacity the whole time he’d had this gig was a fellow traveler who spent just as much time on the road as he did, so it just kinda was what it was. He set his keys and his bag down and headed to the kitchen for a beer, but he hadn’t even opened his fridge when his phone buzzed a couple times. It was a text from Sarah, his editor. He’d known her forever– they shared a couple classes in college. Now they shared the stress of managing a print publication in an increasingly digital world.

“Did you see this?” she had written. There was a link in the next message. “How does this guy get this stuff up so fast?“

Will already knew what he was gonna find before he clicked the link, and sure enough, it directed him to a popular travel blog called The Travel Geek, which was a ridiculous name for a travel blog but people absolutely went wild for it. Will liked it too, not that he would ever really admit it, but that probably had more to do with the guy who ran it than anything else. They had…not a thing, exactly? It was hard to explain whatever was going on with Jeremy Edwards, who by rights Will should probably hate for stealing his stories and his audience. But the problem with that was mainly that the guy was so goddamn likeable.

I’m guessing that’s you.

You would be correct.

You think I think you’re likeable?

No, I know it.

he is pretty likeable

Yeah, yeah.

Will had met Jeremy a couple of years ago, right when he was just starting out with his blog. Jeremy said he’d been reading Will’s stuff for a while and would love some advice from a pro. It wasn’t like Will didn’t know it was a little bit of flattery, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know it was a little bit of flirting, either. It also wasn’t like Jeremy was bad to look at. So Will said sure, he’d be glad to, and they were in Belgium, so they shared some beers, ate fries from a baraque at one in the morning on a park bench, shoulders pressed together, while Will tipsily rhapsodized about gaufre de Liège while Jeremy laughed and laughed.

I have never *rhapsodized* about anything in my damn life.

Have you heard you talk about food? This is not a criticism. I could listen to that all day.

Nothing really happened, in the end, just a good conversation and the promise to keep in touch. That turned out to be easier than it should have been, because they started covering the same damn things, all the time. One big world, and somehow they were always sharing part of it: Will was in India on a camel safari through the Thar Desert, and Jeremy was there, keeping Will up at night tappity tapping on his keyboard. Or Will was in Oatman, Arizona, for a piece on Route 66, and there was Jeremy, taking selfies with the wild burros roaming the streets of the town. Or Will was traveling around Japan, doing a feature on onsens, and Jeremy was there, too, acting like he wasn’t looking in Will’s direction while they sat, very naked, in the soothing hot water. It went on like that for a while until finally one night in Barcelona, in front of Sagrada Familia, he looked at Jeremy, tall and handsome in this absurd brightly patterned scarf, and said, “This is ridiculous, man,” and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss.

Do you honestly think it would have taken me that long?

I don’t know, baby, it took your cowboy ass five years in real time, so Will’s doing a lot better than you.

OoooooooOooo

We had a lot goin on!!! And what is that supposed to be, parker? are you some kind of ghost?

it made more sense in person

I’ll take your word for it.

It wasn’t a relationship, exactly. It was just something they did, sometimes, if they happened to run into each other on the road. It wasn’t like he was getting invited home for the holidays, or anything, and he was fine with that, really. The long and short of it was, they’d basically been circling each other for years now, professionally, personally, whatever, but the professional stuff was definitely getting in the way of anything else. Because Will would sit down and write out his long, detailed articles with carefully selected photographs that would look just right on the page, while Jeremy had already turned out quick blog entry after quick blog entry, listing off places people should visit with witty little one sentence summaries, and people just ate it right up with a spoon while Adventure., Will’s magazine, slowly saw its sales circling the drain. It stung a little. Maybe more than a little. It wasn’t like he could say the guy wasn’t working hard, but damn. Hell, the best selling issue they’d had in a couple years was the one where Sarah had masterminded a collaboration between Will and Jeremy. Blogging was definitely here to stay.

That night in Belgium was five years ago, and at the time it seemed impossible that the internet would ever really fully overtake print. But bloggers and phones had both gotten smarter over the last five years, and now everyone wanted their news in little chunks that they could read on a screen during their commute, so travel blogs were the hot new thing. Will grimaced as he looked at the blog entries Jeremy already had up from Mexico, where they’d run into each other at least half a dozen times.

Five Reasons You Need to Visit Mexico City Right Now; What You’re Missing Because You’re Not in Monterrey; Everything You Wanted to Know About Agave But Were Too Afraid to Ask

“You gotta be kidding me with this,” he muttered, staring at his phone and thinking about the half-written article he had saved on his laptop detailing the history of agave and how to experience Jalisco as more than just the birthplace of tequila.

He pulled up Sarah’s number and dialed.

“I don’t know how we can compete with this,” he sighed, when she picked up.

“We’re going to have to adapt,” she said. “You know that. I can hear you making a face."

"I don’t want to blog,” he complained. “I like print."

"I know,” she sighed. “I’m working on it. Anyway, I’m glad you called, I was going to call you. I need you to go to Italy. Flight leaves tomorrow."

"No way. Not interested,” he told her. “I just got back to my apartment, Sarah, I’ve been in Mexico for a month. I’m beat."

"It’s not my fault that you spend half your time on extracurricular activities,” she teased.

“You can just say sex,” he said. “I won’t be offended. And it’s not half my time. Like, maybe twenty-five percent. Anyway, I get the job done."

"Yeah, and you’re very good at it, which is why I need you to go to Italy,” she said.

“I’m not saying yes,” he told her, “and I’m not interested. But what’s in Italy that’s so important for me to get to?"

"You’ll love this one,” Sarah promised. “It’s a food festival."

Okay, maybe he was a little interested. "Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said. His phone buzzed in his ear. “I just emailed you the details. Including your flight info."

"Dammit, Sarah–"

"Oops, emergency, the printer’s on fire, gotta go!” she chirped, and the line disconnected.

Yeah okay that’s Parker huh

Yep!

I do know y'all a little bit.

“Dammit,” Will said again, and opened Sarah’s email to read up on his next destination.

The food festival turned out to be a week long international celebration of local food from around the world. It only happened once every few years in October, when a world of people descended on the city of Torino, and more specifically the park by the River Po, where they set up tents and stands and served pretty much every kind of food you could imagine, and Will loved food and could imagine a lot, so that was saying something. It was pretty cool, seeing all these people from all over the planet showing off food that was important to them, sharing it with strangers. It really was the whole planet, too, the way the park was set up you could walk through a continent at a time, with all the countries on it represented at their own space. He figured he’d pay his respects to the hosts first and start with Italy, which was definitely the largest section. Halfway through the displays he found a stall with some folks from Campania selling fresh mozzarella di bufala the size of his fist for a Euro. It was speared on a stick like a candy apple so he could walk around with it, nibbling on the sweet cheese as he checked out the festival’s other offerings. Aged cheeses covered in mud and straw from a little town in France. A swanky tent with wood plank floors where the Filipino agriculture offices had a set up with big displays dedicated to traditional food and heirloom crops. Six different kinds of wild rice were layered in a glass display bottle in the booth dedicated to Indigenous agriculture in North America. There were folks from the Yucatan peninsula displaying cured meats and wild honey. There was a whole series of displays about preserving, protecting, and raising Maasai red sheep, from Kenya. The whole event was really impressive, actually, and even though his body had no idea what time zone he was in, he didn’t feel too tired– although that might have been more because he’d been downing every cup of coffee from anyone selling it.

Okay, this actually sounds pretty cool. But now you gotta fake a whole food festival like this if we ever use these aliases.

I don’t have to. That’s a real thing. Happens every couple of years. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the next one. Parker can probably find us a job after, anyway.

I’d love– like that.

Hardison. HARDISON.

Why isn’t this deleting the things I tell it to delete???

Ooh, forgot to tell y'all, this chat records your keystrokes? You know. Just in case you happen to type something sappy about how much you love me, and then delete it before you send it in the chat. Pretty much exactly what just happened.

Dammit Hardison I’m gonna delete YOU

Baby, that doesn’t even make any sense.

im w hardison on this 1. it’s ok if u love things eliot. especially food . or us

Just let me finish reading Hardison’s make believe story so I can get back to dinner prep, ok?

(he loves us)

I know :)

Will strolled around the park, snapping photos here and there, jotting down notes. He talked to folks from all over who came here to run their country’s booths, locals who had come out to enjoy the day, and people who had traveled long distances to be there. After a couple of hours and a really good lunch, he found an unoccupied bench near the river and posted up there for a while, notebook open next to him as he flipped through photos on his phone, the story he could tell about this event already starting to take shape in his head, and he had to admit, at least to himself, that Sarah had been right about this one. Nobody else on their staff knew food enough to get this right. But even though he had a good idea where to start, he couldn’t help feeling a little overwhelmed, too. You could spend two weeks here and still not talk to everybody, and it seemed important to try, somehow.

“Well, well, well,” said a voice, and Will looked up from his phone and his notes to see the tall form of none other than Jeremy Edwards.

“Dammit, Edwards,” Will swore. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Again?"

Yeah it’s pretty much EXACTLY like that every time

Mmmhmm. You talk a big game, man, but no one here believes you.

What he said ur like that stuff u put on the dessert u made 4 us last wk

Stuff on dessert– the Italian meringue? You really comparing me to Italian meringue?!

Is that the stuff that was kinda hard and crunchy on the outside but actually really soft and sweet inside?

Yep that’s the stuff

This is the worst conversation we’ve ever had.

It’s weird how I can hear you smiling right now, though.

Shut up, Hardison, I’m reading.

Got him! XD

"Looks like it,” Jeremy said. He took a seat next to Will on the bench, despite the fact that Will had absolutely not fucking offered it to him. He grinned. Will looked back at his notes before he smiled back. “We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this."

"Yeah, well, trust me, I’m working on it,” Will grumbled, and risked a look at Jeremy again. Still handsome, and still smiling, unfortunately. He thought about the blog a little and made himself frown. “So, you’re here to blog about this, huh? How many blog posts have you done already?"

"None so far,” Jeremy said, scratching his chin, “but I am working on one right now. Tentative title, How to Tell The Guy You’re Casually Seeing And Have Been Chasing All Over the Globe That His Boss Sent Me Here To Work With Him."

Well, there was a lot of information there, but Will decided maybe sticking with the professional stuff was better for now. "I’m sorry, you’re here for what?"

Jeremy shrugged. "Sarah really liked that collaboration thing she got us to do last year, I guess, wanted to try it again for this. I said yes. It’s good for your magazine and it gives my blog some credibility with all you snooty print folks."

"We’re not snooty,” Will said, although that wasn’t exactly true. Maybe they were, a little. He unlocked his phone and saw the email from Sarah, the subject line of which read: “DON’T ARGUE IT WILL BE GOOD FOR YOU/US/THE MAGAZINE.” He sighed and looked back at Jeremy. “I can’t believe she sent you to a food thing."

"I’m offended,” Jeremy said, although it didn’t much sound like it. “I know food."

"Oh really? So last year when we were in Beijing and you were looking for a McDonald’s that was just you knowing food, huh,” Will drawled.

“Sometimes you just really want a Happy Meal,” Jeremy joked, and Will just shook his head.

“I guess we should figure out what we’re doing, then,” he said, and Jeremy raised his eyebrows.

“About the story,” he said, “right?"

"Yeah, about the story,” Will grumbled.

“Whatever you say,” Jeremy said affably, just like always.

It was actually pretty easy to figure out how to cover the festival now that he had a partner in crime. They worked out a plan that afternoon, sketched out a couple of pieces, a collab for Adventure., a short guest piece for Will on The Travel Geek, and a short story in the magazine for Jeremy. Sarah signed off on everything from afar– “What time is it where she is? Does that woman ever sleep?” Jeremy asked, as they both got email after email. “I don’t think she does, man,” Will laughed– and they got to work pretty quick. There was plenty to do and they were both here for a few days, so they wandered through the park as they worked, stopping occasionally to sample food or take photos. Eventually they walked all the way out of the park and into the city, up to a big plaza, Piazza Castello, in the center of the historic part of town. They got gelato from one of the many carts set up nearby for the festival, and sat outside, eating and talking as the sun set.

It was nice. It was always nice, when they ran into each other. That wasn’t the problem. But they’d been stuck in the same routine for years now: they’d find themselves in the same place, Jeremy would laugh, Will would pretend he was annoyed, and then they’d spend a good chunk of their time together enjoying each other’s company in as many ways as they could find, and then they’d head to the airport and go their separate ways. And that was that. This shouldn’t be any different, but somehow it was. Maybe it was the sunset lighting up Jeremy’s skin, or maybe he’d just been lonely too long, but maybe they needed to figure out what they were doing with more than just the stories they were here to tell.

“You wanna get dinner?” Will said, before he could talk himself out of it.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, smiling again, and this time Will let himself smile back. Just a little.

They asked around for recommendations and ended up at a little restaurant in the city, a few blocks from the Piazza. They split a bottle of wine, a margherita pizza, and some perfectly fried fish, and they didn’t really talk about work at all.

“You know,” Jeremy said, about halfway through the wine, “not for nothing, but I’ve gotta say, this looks and feels a lot like a date."

"I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be opposed to that,” Will said.

“Oh, I’m not opposed,” Jeremy told him, “I’m just a little surprised you’re asking. I figured at this point it was gonna have to be me who said something."

Will eyed him carefully, thought back to a lot of nights on a lot of trips. "How long exactly have you been waiting around?"

"I mean, don’t get the wrong idea, here, I haven’t been pining away for you like some Victorian in a bad novel,” Jeremy said, and Will snorted. “But yeah. I played a long game, man. I gotta say, though, after that fishing boat incident in Guyana I really thought you figured out we had a thing."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t have time to notice, I was too busy taking pictures of you hiding behind that skinny British guy when that big old fish jumped out of the water,” Will snickered.

“Big old– that thing was two-hundred and thirty-four pounds of ichthyological torpedo headed straight for yours truly,” Jeremy said, and Will chuckled. “Big doesn’t really describe it.”

“Hmm. It was kinda wild he thought we were gonna get in the water with it,” Will mused. He winked. “Glad you finally remembered you owed me dinner for keeping him from pushing us into the river."

"Ha. You know Sarah wants us to work with that guy again, right?"

"Aw, hell,” Will said. “Really?"

"Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed. “She said she was gonna talk to you about it when we got back from this. Canada this time, so when Mister Fisherman tries to throw me in the water at least the hypothermia will probably get me before the monster fish does."

"Nah,” Will said. “Don’t worry about that. Nobody throws you off a fishing boat. Except maybe me. No. Well. Maybe. No,” he concluded.

Hah. I mean, okay, that does sound like me.

Oh, I am aware, trust me.

“Sarah maybe also mentioned we might do a few more of these little…collaborative things,” Jeremy said, drawing invisible circles on the table. “Maybe even in a more formal capacity."

Will raised his eyebrows. "No way she talked you into giving up the blog."

"Oh, definitely not,” Jeremy said. “But funnily enough, people keep sending me emails about wanting a print version of some of my photographs? But I don’t really have the publishing connections. A magazine, though…” he shrugged. “Me and Sarah figured we might come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement, somehow. Might be seeing more of you, is what I’m trying to say."

"Can’t say I mind that,” Will said, and reached out across the table to cover Jeremy’s hand with his.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jeremy answered, and this time Will didn’t try to hide his smile.

/end

Okay?

Okay, what?

Well where the hell is the rest of it?

What rest of it? It’s clearly implied that they’re dating now. They’re dating, they’re happy, they’re gonna work together for real, happily ever after, et cetera.

they should have at least kissed. i would be into that

This is what I’m saying. Where’s the resolution, here?

Baby, anytime you want a kiss, you know where to find me.

What I want is for you to take this seriously since you’re making us read all of it.

Wow, okay. Here:

They walked around the city for a long time after dinner, still holding hands, and the kiss they shared later under the moonlight felt like a promise. The Actual End.

Y'all happy?

too sappy 4 me but idk what eliot thinks

Not your best work but it’ll do, I guess.

Are you still in the kitchen?

Yeah, why?

I’m gonna come give you a demonstration of my best work, that’s why.

Bring it on, man.

do i get a demo too

You know it.

#author: coffeesuperhero #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #hardison x eliot #leverage #ot3tropetober #submission

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just-aro · 3 years

Note

I don't know all the words and I'm still figuring out this side of myself so excuse me if I mess up or say something wrong but I have a question.

I'm aro, I think. In some sense. I do not like people romantically. I feel upset when people imply that I have a crush on someone. (Be it a friend or even just a celebrity). I don't even like the idea of someone looking at me and thinking that I am romantically interested or whatever.

But I want that kind of connection. I feel as though I could get married one day and be happy. I enjoy the concept of 'romance' in the simplest terms. I want someone to just be there and hold me and kiss me and be by my side forever.

And if I really think about it there was only one time I ever met someone that I thought that I could date him. But not date. You know? He was a friend and I still knowing that looking back and thinking on it, I don't wouldn't have wanted to date him but if he asked I probably have said yes because he was like my second best friend. In fact I used to find out people had crushes on me and I would just be like "Oh wow. Cool?" And then I would just STAY friends with them even though I knew how they felt because even though I didn't dislike them or how they looked I couldn't bring myself to feel that way.

But like, what I was wanting to ask is about there being a chance that my need/want to gat married might be because of how I was raised? Because I enjoy the idea of it. I enjoy romance when it does not involve myself. And when I was really really little I used to do that thing where you plan your wedding. So I don't know if maybe I just convinced myself I wanted it before I even knew who I'd want to marry if I did get married, you know?

Because honestly I'm pretty sure while writing this I realized I just kinda want a best friend who will be a bit more cuddly with me. So I just wanted to ask and see what your opinion on that may be

hi! sorry this has taken a bit to get to.

overall, I'd suggest that you read into amatonormativity - which, in brief is defined as "the assumption that a central, exclusive, romantic relationship is normal for humans, and is a universally shared goal." - a linked 101 article here.

additionally, you may find it useful to consider if you'd like a queerplatonic relationship, or QPR. these are... hard to describe in brief, so I really would recommend talking to folks who are in QPRs. I'm not personally interested in them. The not-so-brief definition is as follows:

A committed non-romantic relationship that goes beyond what is the subjective cultural norm for a friendship. Levels of intimacy and/or behaviors between the partners involved often don’t fit the conventional standards set by society. Some QPRs can include sex and elements that are generally considered romantic. In practice every queerplatonic relationship is different. Abbreviated to QPR, and queerplatonic (quasiplatonic) partner to QPP. Another common word for QPP used to be zucchini.

All that said - whether or not you think you'd like a QPR, and how much you feel like amatonormativity plays into how you're feeling, I'd say it really sounds like you're aromantic. If you'd like to claim this label - welcome to the community!

I answer more questions from questioning aromantic folks with my tag "am i aro", attached to this post. Feel free to check that out for more responses!

- mod kee

#not aro culture #aro #aromantic #actually aro #actually aromantic #ask #mod kee #am i aro

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angelguk · 4 years

Text

→ trial and error — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 2.1k

genre: college!au + angst + best friends!au

warnings: nothing extreme folks just jk being kinda sad / vague mentions of past mental health issues / oc is an aries / love confessions / unrequited love

soundtracks: hand over hand, roland faunte + lvr boy, awfultune

The first time he felt it he was seventeen. It didn’t hit him quick or hard. Instead, it was slow, a gradual drifting of his heart closer and closer to you until he felt it fall right out of his chest and into your hands. He didn’t mind it, the fall. What hurt was that you didn’t know you held his heart. And within it the undying adoration he had for you, thumping painfully against his rib cage as if it was begging to be released. He knew it was love. There was no other word for it. It was there in the way his cheeks would burn whenever you smiled at him, there when you’d tackle him in the hallway with a hug and Jeongguk would feel his insides melt with giddiness, and there when you managed to coax a laugh out of him even on his bad days. There was no other word to describe the security he felt within your presence. Seen and loved and acknowledged. You listened when no else would, held him together when he felt like he was crumbling apart, tended at the bruises marring his heart. Jeongguk needed you like he needed oxygen. Even when you’d argue (usually over something trivial) he found himself crawling back to you. Ribbons intertwine your souls together, and Jeongguk has happily lost himself in the mess of them.

He thought you’d see it too one day. Thought you’d feel it in the way he held you, the way his gaze lingered on you. Instead, he watched you fall in love with everyone but him.

It was easy to subdue it in high school, observe the flowers you received from admirers on Valentine’s day with a bitter smile. He’d never had the courage to slip a note in your locker or hand you a bouquet of roses, too terrified he’d destroy the most important relationship in his life with the greed of his heart. So he swallowed the confessions on his tongue and trudged through life pretending the only person who he wanted to be with wasn’t you. Yet, somehow, it got a million times worse in university. There had barely been any barriers in your relationship but suddenly Jeongguk felt his walls appear. It’s kind of hard to act like everything is normal after walking in on your best friend (and the love of your life) getting rawed in the bathroom of a frat party. Jeongguk had laughed it off, of course. What else was he supposed to do? But did he seek out the prettiest girl in the party and fuck her just to get back at you mentally? Maybe. That’s his secret to tell.

And from there it had descended into a spiral of boy after boy climbing into your sheets, touching you in ways that Jeongguk can only dream of. It infuriates him, spiking a pit of jealousy in his soul that he didn’t know existed. Because what did you see in them that you didn’t see in Jeongguk? He knew you better than any of those brief flings. You’d been friends since that day on the playground when Jeongguk hadn’t been able to push himself on the swing so you’d volunteered to help him. Back then, you towered over Jeongguk, big enough to control the playground during recess with your domineering and direct mannerisms. He liked that you controlled the world around you, fearless with every sure step forward. Jeongguk had looked up to you then - both literally and in admiration. Then his growth sprout hit him and you had stayed under his chin despite the bizarre stretches you did every morning religiously. Yet, even as you aged together, the spark in you never went out. In fact, it shone brighter. So bright that sometimes you blinded Jeongguk with your fervour. But he liked it too much to ever flee from the glow of your orbit. You held him in place with the secret glances you share, the soft smiles you gave him after hours of being cooped up in his room, studying together for your respective majors. It’s the history that gives him hope; even though you still fall into bed with men Jeongguk thinks are beneath you and he still distracts himself with faceless girls who don’t hold a candle to your light.

But lately, he’s been seeing that light waver, flickering into a darkness he recognises. Even now, in the midst of your joint study session, Jeongguk has been silently observing you. He’s known you long enough to note that you’re frustrated. It’s evident in the subtle way your bottom lip stays caught between your teeth, gradually shifting rouge from the pressure you’re applying on it. Despite the concentration painted across your face, you stare at the journal article on your screen blankly. There’s a void in your gaze. And it provokes Jeongguk forward, stumbling off of his seat as his desk.

The mattress dips underneath the weight of his knees, but you don’t look up, hands automatically reaching for Jeongguk as he crawls into your lap. Your assignments get pushed to the side and you allow it because you’re both due for a break anyway. His curls feel soft underneath your fingertips, a result of the numerous times Jeongguk had persuaded you into rubbing jojoba oil onto his scalp. He smells good too – a scent you can’t put into any other word than comforting floating around you. For a moment, it abates the despondency that’s been slowly creeping up on you.

“You’re thinking,” Jeongguk says it firmly but tenderly like he’s wading through deep waters.

You make a noise of acknowledgement. “I am.”

“Care to share your thoughts?” He’s looking up at you imploringly, doe eyes wide enough to make you kneel over and comply with his request.

“I’m thinking about Minjae.” You feel him stiffen underneath you, but it’s a minute movement, one that passes swiftly. You can’t even pause to question Jeongguk’s reaction.

“Why?” But the question is spat out, oddly venomous. It ignites something in your blood. You’re already on the verge of tipping over the edge – frustrated from the lack of satisfaction in your relationships. Minjae was a cause of several headaches but lately, Jeongguk had been lingering at the back of your head, a fluttering thought that kept resurfacing despite your best efforts to keep it locked in its cage. But you’ll deal with that later, the heat in your tummy as Jeongguk shifts deeper into your hold a threat.

“He’s just…” You pause because it’s difficult to put into words. How do explain that you think your boyfriend was falling out of love with you. If you can even call him that. Minjae was someone who you carried about but your feelings never ran that deep. Not that you didn’t try and push them there. It felt like he was a placeholder most times. Or a bookmark until you finally got the courage to flick open to the page in life where you’re truly meant to be.

You dig your hands deeper into Jeongguk’s hair. You hate how he sighs into you, falling lax in your arms.

“He’s just what?” Jeongguk mumbles. There’s a hand stealing underneath the sheets you’d wrapped around your waist. His fingertips skip over skin, drawing swirls along your bare thigh. You hate the tingle that slips down your spine at the feeling of his warm hands on you.

“Not satisfying me,” You grumble, the scowl on your lips a consequence of the warmth the ebbs from your chest every time Jeongguk pushes himself into your space.

There’s a sigh escaping his lips, one that sounds oddly like relief.

“In what way?” He covers the sigh up with a false laugh. “Aren’t you guys, like, dating? Shouldn’t you tell your boyfriend that?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You retort. “And in every way. He doesn’t love me. I know that. He barely listens to me when we talk and he only calls me over when he wants to sleep with him. Last time we fucked he just focused on getting himself off and he rolled right off me and got on his phone.”

The intake of breath the slips through his teeth is sharp. “Fuck, really? I told you he wasn’t worth your time.”

“You say that about every guy I start seeing.” You glance down, surprised to find the gaze on Jeongguk’s face rather serious.

“That’s because none of them are worth your time. They don’t deserve you.” It’s said so resolutely that your heart flips in your chest. And just like that, the air around you feels different. It’s charged with the promise of a thousand whispered words. You hold his unwavering gaze, feel the stillness of the hand on your thigh with caution.

“Well, who deserves me then?”

Me, Jeongguk thinks. I know you better than any of them will. I’ve loved you more than any of them have.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Stares at the ceiling. Hates the silence in the room. Abhors the hesitation in his heart. And then his gaze falters back to you.

You’re waiting, the patience in your eyes making his heart thump fast. He wonders if you can hear it, in the quiet that lingers between you. Because he can hear it. Can hear the words he wants to say so clearly in his mind. If only he had the balls to say them. To ask for more with you. That’s all he’s ever wanted. More. It’s just a flash, the image of you in his arms, your mouth on his. The idea of calling you his makes his head swim. It’s why he does it. It’s not a thought through action. Jeongguk always assumed his confession would be more than this – but it felt perfect at that moment, a clarity in his brain that drives him to shift upright, push right into your space.

It’s barely a kiss, just a graze of your mouth on his, but it zips through him. His lips burn with the print of your mouth, engraved in his memory for eternity now. But then he feels you gasp, draw anyway, the shock in your eyes plummeting his heart right into his gut.

“Jeongguk?” The rapid flicker in your eyes coupled with the heated gaze you’re giving him makes his stomach roll.

“Shit – sorry. Fuck, I didn’t mean to-”

“Well, why did you?” You bite. “You can’t – you can’t just do that.”

He’s never wanted life to have a rewind button more than now. “I know – I’m sorry I really fucking am. Please, just listen okay – listen to me.”

But you’re not. He’s never seen you move so fast, snatching up your things in one swift motion. Your textbook is tucked underneath your arm and your laptop is thrown right into your bag, the highlighters you’d stolen from Jeongguk’s desk a long time ago going right in after it. He tries to reach out for you, but the slight flinch you give at the touch of his hand on your arm makes him wilt right back into himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” But you’re off his bed, searching for your shoes vehemently.

“Don’t, Jeongguk. Don’t. I just – I just don’t know why you would do this?” The strain in your voice is the final nail in his coffin. And when you twirl around, the fierceness in your glare makes him want to crawl into the depths of the Earth. “Why? Why would you do that?”

He knows why he did it. But he holds his tongue, afraid he’ll push you even further away.

His silence prompts a hard sigh from you. And then you turn, walking right out of his room. Jeongguk stares at your retreating back. Feels the slam of his door in his chest. Waits until he hears you bid Yoongi a rushed goodbye. And then he puts his head in his hands, falls back into the bed that’s still warm from the reminiscence of your body. Rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging hard like it could extract the memory of this event from his brain forever. He doesn’t cry though, despite the stinging in his eyes. But he feels it, every crack in his heart. It splits so deep it feels like its’ bleeding to him. Maybe that’s where his tears were; in the spilling of his heart inside his chest.

He says it because in the solace of his room no one is here to hear it. It would be nice, to just say it once. Without fear, he was destroying something he cherished so dearly. Well, he’s already ruined it. There is nothing to lose anymore. Not with the way you looked at him liked he’s betrayed you. And perhaps he had, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He couldn’t pretend to feel about you the way he did. Not like a friend. More than a friend.

“I did it because I like you,” Jeongguk says to the air. To the ache in his heart. “Because I love you.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic

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aye-write · 3 years

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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: If you’re interested in more information, exclusive updates, character art, and teasers for this fic, please consider following its sister tumblr @kildo-pokedex!

This was another chonker chapter at 4.5k that I didn’t anticipate being this long at all! The joys of plantsing, eh? I had hoped to reveal the starters this chapter, but that’s being bumped to next update. In the meantime, please enjoy the reveal of Brootser, and the partial reveals of Weldeon, Ampster and Coastrot!

*****

Chapter Three

Despite everything, night rolled over the Whispering Pine Croft.

After hours battling insomnia, Isla stole downstairs not long after the clock in the hallway chimed midnight. Goosepimples erupted on her skin, the air chilling her to the core. Clicking on the floor lamp, she cast her gaze around the living room. A rickety bookshelf took up most of one wall, covered in dust and trinkets. It didn’t take her long to strike gold.

The Etymological Dictionary of Old Kildonian, 1981 Edition.

Sitting at the old coffee table, she spread out her books and copies of the Old Kildonian script until there wasn’t an inch of space left. Then she opened the dictionary and started to read. She read, moving between dictionary and text, until her eyes strained in the dim light of the lamp, and the words on the page turned into incomprehensible squiggles. Just keep going, she told herself, as she marked off another decoded word. Just keep going. Just keep going. Just keep—

“Isla?”

Isla slammed the book shut. The noise seemed to echo forever in the quiet of the living room. The intruder snapped on the main light and Isla blinked foolishly as everything illuminated around her. It was Blair at the door, swaddled in an enormous red dressing gown and a pinched look on his face.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, pulling his dressing gown tighter. “You’ll catch your death of cold.”

“I’m… I’m not doing anything,” Isla said, trying to collect the papers together, position her body over them, anything to hide them from sight.

“Really? You look like a student trying to panic revise a whole subject the night before an exam,” he chuckled, plopping himself in the seat opposite. “Come on. What’s up?”

Isla sighed. What was the point in lying? “I’m just trying to make some sense of these texts.”

Blair glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “At half two in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep. This presentation is doing my head in.” When Blair frowned, she added, “My supervisor asked me to update them with all the “progress” I’ve mad so far. Of course, I haven’t made any yet.”

“So, you’re trying to decode all these old books with…. an out-of-date Kildonian dictionary?”

“I found it in the bookcase. I thought it might help.”

“I’m pretty sure that book is older than me. Please don’t tell me you’re taking it word-by-word.”

“More or less.”

“You’ll be there months trying to sort all that lot.”

“I don’t have any other choice,” Isla’s voice cracked. “Everyone is hounding me. I can’t let this come undone. They’ll pull approval of my project and fail me if I don’t keep jumping through all their hoops.”

“Why is the legend of the Chessmen so important to you?”

Isla hesitated. It was an innocent enough question, but the thought of answering it felt like ripping her chest open and exposing the beating heart underneath. “Well...” she started, cringing at how stupid it all sounded in her head. “When I was little, I was kinda lonely. I didn’t have siblings. Or friends, really,”

Blair made a sympathetic noise.

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t that bothered by it,” Isla lied. “But because I didn’t have many friends, I naturally leant towards books instead. And I loved fiction, like adventure stories and that, but I felt so much more connected to things that were actually real.”

Blair nodded. “Understandable.”

“Anyway, one Christmas, I got this book. I think it was called Myths and Legends of the Pokemon World and it had all the origin stories of all the legendary Pokemon from like… every region in the world. God, I ate up every single story - how Arceus created the world, the theory that all Pokemon came from Mew in some way, how Groudon and Kyogre created the land and sea. I was absolutely hooked. Then, right at the end, there were a couple of small articles devoted to a place called Kildo.”

“Typical,” Blair muttered. “Always playing second fiddle to the big guns.”

“The book explained a little bit about the legend of the Chessmen. I was just… amazed at how these Pokemon brought humans these gifts of technology and arts and whatnot and how advanced the region was for its time. And then when I read what happened next, well… I just wanted to know why. Why did the Chessmen take away what they gave the humans? What happened to them after they became dormant? I was obsessed. When I was younger, I had this stupid dream that I would like… Oh, it sounds so cheesy now, but… like solve the mystery of what happened all those years ago.”

“It’s not cheesy, Isla. Dreams are never cheesy.”

Isla bit the inside of her cheek. “I know that. It’s just… well, this legend has been everything to me for years. I’m not bigheaded enough now to think someone like me could ever solve it. But I’d love to find something. Even if it’s just standing in the same place these Pokemon stood once, all those years ago. But now it feels like it’s slipping away from me. I won’t be able to do anything unless I get these texts translated.”

“They’re well-known texts, right? Haven’t they already been translated?”

“The only translations that exist are locked behind online paywalls,” Isla sighed. “Not exactly within my budget. The originals were family owned. I suppose you can’t blame them for wanting them kept safe.”

“Could the university not pay for you to access them?”

“Not my department. They already think the project isn’t worth the time. They’re usually into social changes, modern day life, that sort of thing. Mythology doesn’t get a look in. Even though I changed my project a bit – focusing more on how the mythology influences modern life, with the Chessmen more of like a case study – the department still don’t want much to do with it.”

“Well, that’s their loss. Your project sounds fascinating just from what I’ve seen of it.”

“This little bit you’ve seen might end up being all it ever amounts to. With Nana Morag in the hospital, my options for translations are limited, and these old texts are all I have to help me piece together where the Chessmen might be.”

Silence unfurled around them. Isla stared down at her lap, her legs shaking and her mouth dry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever talked so much about herself and she found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to look Blair in the eye.

“I think I might know someone.”

Isla pricked her head up. “Really?” she said, hope throbbing in her chest.

“I have a friend who lives in Inverbrook. It’s not a huge city, but they do have a subsect of Tideburgh University there. He’s doing a Masters in Language and mentioned being involved with an elective on Old Kildonian. I can contact him for you. He might be able to help.”

Something surged through Isla like she’d just taken a shot of adrenaline. “Oh, Blair, thank you! That’s amazing!”

“No guarantees, of course!” he said, spreading his hands hastily. “He might not know enough of it to be a proper help. But he may be able to put you in touch with some other folks who can help, if that makes sense.”

“It does. A lot of sense. Thank you again.” Isla paused. “Where is Inverbrook?”

“Pretty much directly south of here. About forty odd miles or so. Following routes 29 through 26 pretty much leads you right there. Public transport is crap, though, so you’re better walking most of it. Shouldn’t take much more than a couple of days if you’re…”

He paused. Isla knew what he wanted to say. If you’re fit. Women like her weren’t supposed to be fit. And even though the thought of days of walking filled her with equal parts apprehension and dread, she forced a look of determination onto her face.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I can handle it.”

Isla shared the news that she would be leaving in the morning as they sat down at the kitchen table. Kenneth and Skye stayed quiet, barely reacting to the news, but Rhona’s face crumpled.

“Oh, chick, are you sure?”

“I think it’s probably for the best,” Isla said. “I don’t want to be a burden, especially with you guys having your hands full with the croft and Nana Morag being ill. Having a guest is too much on top of everything. I really do appreciate everything you’ve all done, but I think it’s best that I head towards Inverbrook and start my research properly.”

A strange expression passed over Rhona’s face, one that Isla couldn’t make sense of. For several terrifying moments, she thought she’d offended her.

“You wouldn’t be a burden on us, Isla,” Rhona eventually said, her eyes brimming. “We’d happily have you here for as long as you want. It’s been lovely having you.”

Isla felt something in her heart buckle.

“We do understand that your studies have to come first. But… you said you wanted to go to Inverbrook?”

“Yes. Blair is going to put me in touch with a friend of his there that might be able to help me with some translations.”

“It might not be as easy as you think, chick. I’ve just been watching the local news. There was flooding down south. The river that goes through Route 27, which connects Port Glen to Inverbrook, burst its banks. The whole route is submerged. No-one can go through. It’s completely impassable.”

You wouldn’t have said the entire of Port Glen had only just recently been battered by a storm, Isla thought, as she set off down towards the harbour after a filling breakfast. The morning sky pinkened gently, like a mother’s embrace, and golden threads of sun drifted through soft, watercolour clouds. A cool wind kept the worst of the heat at bay as she walked. All in all, it was a fairly pleasant experience. Well, as pleasant an experience as walking would ever be.

It was Rhona that had suggested trying the ferry. She couldn’t be sure what passenger routes they ran from Port Glen, or if they only did international and goods shipments, but it was a better option than waiting the potential weeks for the Inverbrook route to be cleared or taking the (extremely) long way around the whole region.

Breathing heavily and sweating despite the brisk ocean breeze, Isla stopped to catch her breath as she arrived at the harbour. She cast her gaze around hopefully. It was quiet. Too quiet. Not a good sign in the least. Aside from the occasional sailor pacing the docks, and the sharp, cutting cry of seabirds, the place was still and silent.

The thought of asking someone to help sent panic crashing through her like waves in a storm, but there was no other choice. The best option rested with a nearby sailor, busily looping ropes and picking apart complicated knots. A Pokemon stood at his side. Squat, muscular, with short brown fur, flecked with white, and cut into a stout triangle pattern, it was another one that Isla didn’t recognise. Every now and again, the sailor tossed it a particularly difficult-looking knot of rope, which the Pokemon expertly shredded with sharp, curved claws.

“Brootser, the Pelting Pokemon. The evolved form of Brogue. With incredibly sharp claws and powerful jaws, Brootser are highly aggressive and territorial. Even against much stronger foes, it won’t back down easily,” her Pokedex chirruped.

Isla’s hand tightened around Soba’s Pokeball as she read more details. A Fighting type. A second evolution. Being a Furret, Soba wouldn’t stand much chance in a fair fight, much less an unfair one. While she did generally feel more comfortable approaching a fellow Pokemon owner, she probably could have stood to pick one with a less terrifying partner.

All the same, she approached the sailor, keeping herself primed like a coiled spring. “Excuse me? I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

The sailor had a strong, lined face, but he didn’t seem anywhere near as intimidating when he relaxed into a smile. “Sure,” he boomed. “What can I do for you?”

“Are there going to be any sailings from this port in the next few days? Anywhere that lands near Inverbrook?”

The Brootser, distracted from its work with the knots, pressed its wet nose against Isla’s hand. Isla let out an involuntary squeak.

“Brootser, stop that!” the sailor said firmly. “Sorry, miss. He’s obsessed with leather. Have you got leather in your handbag or anything? Your shoes? I swear, he can sniff it out within a mile. I have to keep him distracted at work otherwise he’d never leave people alone. Here, Brootser, go and do this for me.”

The sailor tossed a section of rope a few feet down the docks. The Brootser growled, a deep throaty rumble, before dropping to all fours and pursuing. Within moments, the rope was ripped to little more than fibres.

Isla searched for something to say. She eventually settled on, “He’s cute.”

“He’s a menace is what he is,” the sailor said, wiping his brow. “Anyway, you were asking about the ferries? Unfortunately, the passenger ferry was badly damaged in that storm two nights ago and won’t be running any routes for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Isla asked nervously.

“We’re waiting for some metal workers to come down from Hydrogate. They’re delayed because their Weldeon team were exhausted after a big job in the ironworks. Currently we’re looking at about a week.”

“A week?”

“I’m afraid so. If you go to reception and leave your details, they’ll be able to contact you as soon as we know when the sailings will be going ahead.”

“Aren’t there any other options?”

The sailor considered. “Not here. But if you’re set on sailing and you could get to Dewbrae Town, I think they’re still running sailings.”

“Where’s Dewbrae Town? Is it close?”

“It’s up past Aberdrip City, which is an hour’s drive north of here. Then you have to pass through Aberdrip Forest and that brings you out just at Dewbrae. Maybe a couple of days walking if you keep a steady pace,” he paused, and Isla felt his eyes rake her body. “Maybe a couple more. But, if you’re in a hurry, it’s better than waiting around here. Everything’s very up in the air at the moment.”

Isla thanked the sailor, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that came over her. Why was this so difficult? She’d encountered disaster at every turn so far and, in her darkest moments, she couldn’t deny wondering if it was even worth it to keep going. Nana Morag ill, no passage to Inverbrook through Route 27, no ferry from the Port Glen docks, now she had to go all the way to Dewbrae – wherever that was – on nothing more than a possibility?

But what could she do? What other options did she have?

Rhona would know what to do, Isla decided. She had a way of sorting things out, an uncanny level-headedness her own mother didn’t have. That’s what she’d do. She’d head back to the croft and take stock of the situation. She started walking, thoughts whirling through her head like the flapping of birds’ wings. Maybe there was another way to Inverbrook. They knew the region better than she ever would. Maybe they could—

“WIIIIING!”

Isla gasped and swore as her foot trod on something soft. With a gust of cold air, the offending thing burst upwards and pain erupted at the top of her head. Sharp, pointed talons dug into her scalp and she yelped in pain.

“Gull! Gull!” her assailant screeched; each squawk accompanied by a swift peck to the head.

Isla’s hands closed around her attacker’s soft wriggling body. With all her might, she tore it from her head and tossed it as far as she could manage. But the Pokemon swooped back into the air, seemingly unharmed, fixing Isla with a glare that sent a tremble down her spine.

“Gull! Wingull!” it shrieked.

Recognition dropped into Isla’s belly like a stone. It was a Kildonian Wingull. The same Kildonian Wingull that had attacked Rhona the day Isla got off the ferry. At least, it certainly looked like the same one – she could hardly call herself an expert on them – but it was roughly the same size and had the same high-pitched squawk. And didn’t the Pokedex say that Kildonian Wingull only attacked people who had food? Isla didn’t have a single crumb on her. So what other motive could it possibly have for attacking her?

Isla reached for the Pokeball at her waist, panicked fingers scrabbling for the catch. But the Wingull screeched again, diving into a tackle. The impact came low in her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs and leaving her doubled over. The second blow sent her off-balance and stumbling, eventually crashing to the ground where the pain came in sharp spikes. With a fury of feathers, the Pokemon ripped Isla’s bag away from her.

“Hey!” She wheezed. “There’s nothing in there for you!”

Her protests were rewarded with a face full of frigid water.

By the time Isla had sluiced the water from her face, the Wingull had unhooked the bag’s clasp and was digging around in her things. Hairbrush and deodorant were both ignored, the coin purse in the shape of a Quagsire got an inquisitive gnaw but ultimately left in favour of a pen, which lasted a whole thirty seconds until it splintered and was promptly spat back out.

Every inhale felt like she was being stabbed underneath the ribs, but she still forced herself to move. “Leave my things alone! There’s no food in there!”

Wingull had wriggled itself right into the bottom of the bag and had pulled out an old emergency kit that Isla had nearly forgotten about. Most of the items had already been used or dumped over the years she’d had it, leaving only a couple of travel sized Potions, a Repel Kit, and a Poke Doll, wrapped up in a worn-out bag. The Wingull squawked indignantly and decapitated the doll in one fell swoop. Then it turned back on the travel bag, scraping around and tearing at it with its beak.

Something dropped out. Isla’s heart plummeted to somewhere near her feet.

It was a Pokeball. An old Pokeball scratched and grimy with age. A Pokeball that Isla had all but forgotten about ever since she made the decision to train just Soba all those years ago. A Pokeball that was now right in the Kildonian Wingull’s line of sight.

She saw it happening before it actually did. The hungry Wingull viewed the Pokeball as nothing more than a shiny, tasty snack. It darted forward, opened its beak wide, and engulfed the old capsule. Isla prayed that the ten year old ball would turn out to be too old to work anymore, and the worst thing to happen would be the Wingull hacking it back up again. But the Pokeball made a shrill shiiing noise as it made contact with Wingull’s beak, and the Pokemon disappeared in a flash of blue light.

The Pokeball shook. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it was still.

And Isla had caught a Kildonian Wingull.

Isla told the story of her accidental Wingull capture to an appreciative audience when she got back from the docks. And then again over sandwiches at lunchtime. While Soba curled up in the corner next to the radiator, oblivious to this new teammate, Isla released Wingull for the nerve-wracking job of introductions and feeding time. Rhona’s eyebrows rose so high that they practically disappeared into her hairline, but she didn’t protest.

“I can’t believe it’s the same one,” Rhona said, eyeing her half-eaten sandwich she was planning on saving for later. “Most try their luck once and then move on.”

“I think it’s young,” Blair said, lifting its wing to get a better look. “Perhaps separated from its mum too early. Maybe it doesn’t know any better.”

“I didn’t mean to catch it,” Isla sighed. “I’d forgotten all about that old Pokeball. We were always told to carry an extra one or two, even if we never intended to catch Pokemon, like for emergencies and that.”

“It must have been starving if it thought a Pokeball was food. Or maybe just exceptionally stupid.”

“Jury’s out on that one,” Isla said, as the Wingull pecked at a Tauros shaped pepper shaker.

“Kildonian Wingull are incredibly food oriented,” Blair lifted his plate to avoid the Pokemon’s frantically flapping wings. “Most of the bird Pokemon around here are.”

“Why is that?”

“Competition. Because there’s so many, they all compete for the same natural resources. That’s part of why people think Wingull adapted for Kildo the way they did. They couldn’t compete for most of the natural food, so they evolved to take food from humans instead. Problem is, they end up thinking all food is fair game. Hey, watch it! No! That’s mine!”

Isla suppressed a chuckle as Wingull lunged for the crusts on Blair’s sandwiches. In the kerfuffle of squawking and feathers, Isla looked over at Skye, who hadn’t said a word through the entire of lunch. Her face was screwed up.

“Skye? Are you alright?” Isla asked.

Skye made an odd strangling noise, pushed herself back from the chair, and ran for the stairs, each one thudding under her feet. A moment later, a door slammed.

“Did I say something wrong?” Isla said, horrified.

“No, not at all,” Rhona said, rescuing a glass of juice that had been upended when Skye left the table. “She’s just a bit upset. We were supposed to be going up to meet Professor Spruce tomorrow to get her trainer’s license and first Pokemon. But because Nana Morag is in hospital, I have to be here in case something comes up on short notice, and I just can’t spare the time to take Skye up to Aberdrip City. She’ll only be delayed for a few days, but the poor lass was so looking forward to it. Especially when she’s had to wait so much longer than everyone else.”

“Why’s that?”

It was only after she asked the question that she considered it might have been rude. Or none of her business. Too late to save herself now, though. Rhona’s face tightened, her mouth puckering like she was sucking on a sour lemon.

“Sorry,” Isla looked down at the table. “I shouldn’t be nosy.”

The kitchen fell quiet. Rhona let out a deep, juddering exhale and sat back down, folding her hands into her lap, the kitchen suddenly feeling about ten degrees colder. Isla took a sip of water, her mouth and throat turning to chalk.

“Skye had childhood cancer.” The words didn’t even get a chance to settle before they were tumbling out again, like Rhona was trying to get them all out at once. Like they couldn’t hurt her as much that way. “She spent most of her childhood in hospital with leukaemia.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Once again Isla found herself cursing both her mother and herself for not bothering to find any of this information out beforehand.

Rhona shook her head. “It’s alright, chick. We don’t talk about it much. Besides, she’s been in remission for a year now. But she’s missed out on so much school and she gets tired so easily.”

There was nothing Isla could say that would be enough. She had to settle for, “I’m sorry to hear that…” and hope Rhona could somehow understand just how much she meant it.

“There was a time when she was being treated that she became very low and very depressed. It was frightening. I’ve never been so worried in all my life. We were scared she was just… giving up. Then, one day, they had some Pokemon trainers visit the hospital. A lot of children there would never be able to go out training. Some wouldn’t even… you know, live to see their next birthday.”

Rhona’s voice wavered. Blair put his hand over hers and squeezed. “Easy, Mum. Don’t go upsetting yourself now.”

“One of the trainers was assigned to Skye,” Rhona continued. “But she was so quiet and so withdrawn that we didn’t think the trainer could get through to her. The trainer had this Pokemon with her – Ampster, I think it was – and it was like a light turned on behind Skye’s eyes when she saw it. I saw glimpses of my daughter again. This trainer stayed with her for hours. Just talking. She’s wanted to be a Pokemon trainer ever since. And I hate that so many things keep getting in her way.”

Rhona sunk her head into her hands. Her shoulders quivered.

Isla felt terrible. No wonder Skye had been quiet during the whole of lunch. How stupid had she been? Skye was being kept from her dream of being a Pokemon trainer and she’d waltzed into their kitchen showing off a Pokemon she hadn’t even meant to catch? It made Isla’s toes curl just thinking about it.

“Could Skye not make the journey on her own?” she asked.

“No,” Rhona lifted her head again, looking pale even at the thought. “She’s not fit enough. We were going to rent a car and drive her, but…”

“Could I take her?”

The offer slipped past Isla’s lips before she knew what she was doing. Rhona looked at her in mild shock, her mouth slowly gaping open.

“I mean, I’ll be passing through Aberdrip anyway!” Isla continued. “One of the sailors said I could get the ferry from Dewbrae Town which is just past Aberdrip, right?. I could take her along with me.”

“Gosh, that’s very kind of you, chick. And I’m sure Skye would love it,” Rhona said, nervously glancing at the stairs. “But I’m not comfortable with her making the trip back on her own. Or even just the amount of walking she’d have to do.”

“I could go with them,” Blair said.

Rhona looked at her son like she’d only just remembered he existed. “What’s that, honey?”

“I could go with them,” he repeated. “We could put Skye on Coastrot. That’s my partner Pokemon,” he added for Isla’s benefit. “He’s strong enough to carry her and we can keep her nicely bundled up. Then once Isla heads off to Dewbrae, I can take Skye back.”

“I don’t know,” Rhona said. “We need you here too.”

“Mum, it’s a day. Maybe two, tops, if we let Skye rest overnight. You and Dad can manage that long, right? You could ask a couple of the lads from the market to pitch in if you really need to. I’m sure they’d work for a hot pie and some cash in hand. And you don’t need to worry about us. We won’t do anything silly. We’ll just get Skye her Pokemon, check in for the night, see Isla off to Dewbrae the next morning and head back ourselves. Easy-peasy!”

Rhona still didn’t look convinced. “It’s such a long way, though. She’s not been away overnight in such a long time.”

“It’s a few hours of travelling, Mum. You said it yourself, Skye’s already missed out on so much. It might not feel like much for us, but for Skye, it’s her whole life. One delay after the other. And with everything the way it is right now, what if there’s just more delays? More reasons not to take her? You have to let her.”

Rhona went very quiet, her face pale.

“I’ll look after her, Mum,” Blair said. “She needs this.”

“I know you will. And I know she does,” Rhona heaved a sigh. “She’s not my little baby anymore. She’s growing up.”

“I’d like to go.”

Everyone jumped at the voice that came in from the doorway. Rhona wiped her eyes. “Oh, Skye, honey, sorry. I didn’t hear you come down. Are you okay?”

“I think I can do it,” Skye ignored her mother’s question. Her voice was louder this time, but still hesitant, like she was testing out its limits. “I want to go get my Pokemon and I’d like Blair and Coastrot to take me. And Isla,” she added, and Isla felt a smile curve onto her face. “If that’s okay with you?”

Silence widened like a chasm between mother and daughter and for one horrible moment, Isla half-expected Rhona to turn away, to start shouting, to deny her flat out. But then tears spilled out of Rhona’s eyes and her whole face softened.

“Yes, honey,” Rhona said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Yes, that’ll be okay with me.”

As they hugged, Isla felt a stray tear prick at the corner of her eye. The emotion surprised her. Yes, it was touching to see a mother and daughter hug and reconcile, but something told her it went deeper. As she looked out at the dying sky, strewn with deepening orange and slicks of black, something unsettled itself in her heart.

Tomorrow she would be leaving Port Glen. Tomorrow she would leave behind a family unit where she felt accepted. Tomorrow she would start her journey to Inverbrook.

She didn’t know which one felt scarier.

#checkmate #pokemon oc fiction #pokemon fanfiction #fakemon #fakemon fanfiction #long post #fanfiction

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riddlesandqueries · 4 years

Text

Somebody Sure As Hell Messed Up (Part 4)

(In which Music Meister, nee Dennis Prowell, and The Toyman, rarely known as Winslow Schott, have a revealing conversation over board games.)

"I like to know as much information as I can. It helps things run smoothly." said the Toyman.

Dennis took a deep breath in, then out. No theatrics this time. "Fine. You want the real story. Here it is.”

“...This was a team effort: I was showing her a night on the town. After that whole 2000 scare I just thought a day to celebrate the New Year was what she needed. What I said about breaking in was true. We were stealing ... miscellaneous goods when your bowl arrived. It wasn't until the building started to crumble apart when she pushed me into the hand though. So there it is. Are you happy?"

"Really? She actually pushed you? That's something I'd expect her to do to me, not you. You two were supposedly pretty chummy." Winslow leaned in. "Goes to show you, she's a dangerous one."

"Well I would've expected Lyle to be more of the type to do such a thing. But I softened him up. I suppose I just didn't have enough time to get close to Darci. At least not to the point of being as chummy as you'd think." Dennis made a meek attempt to whistle to fill in the silence, but the mic on him kept making the pitch off key and weird. Definitely something he stopped a few seconds in. "I doubt she'll come over for some tea. You got no use keeping me around if that's the case."

"Oh she'll come. I've got my best man on it right now. And you'll be staying for a while. I can't help but be a little suspicious, you know? And we can keep each other company until our little reunion!" said Winslow, failing to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Suspicious? Me? Perish the thought." Shit. You blew it, Prowell. Dennis bared a smile that was more than a little ingenuine. "So. We're going to 'keep each other company?'"

"Naturally! I haven't had a guest over in a very long time. Tell me, do you like board games?"

A very long time, huh? "Board games are fun." Dennis tried to match Winslow's energy. In truth, Dennis was much more fond of scrapbooking news articles about crime than he had been about board games when he was a child. The only board game he's truly interested in is D&D, but that was neither here nor there.

"I have quite a few, but be warned! I've had a lot of time to practice." One of the doors to the room slid open to reveal a tall shelf full of colorful boxes.

"Ah, well! It looks like you've got a lot of things to keep us occupied. Ha." God. I wish Hartley were here...

"How about Battleship? Or Chutes and Ladders?" Winslow hopped down off of his chair and went to the shelf to peruse the collection. "Or maybe Connect Four?"

Yeah... Hart's just the person I'd want to see right about now. "Now, Battleship's something I know haha!"

"Oh boy! Sounds good to me!" He grabbed the box from the shelf and took his seat again, pulling the screens out of the box and sliding one down to Dennis. Winslow began setting up his side.

Dennis followed suit. "So you haven't had a friend over in a long time?"

"No, not since Peter. And I can't even remember the time before that. Mostly, it's just me and the friends I make myself. Uh, just say when you are ready."

He gave a thumbs-up in response. "G7. Merkel? Oh! He's been over at Sel's a couple of times. Very fond of Twister I've heard." Dennis then stopped for a moment. "Wait, then how did you meet Darci? Was it a henchgirl for hire gig gone to pot?"

"M-miss; J4" Toyman’s voice stammered as he placed a piece in his water. "You... you don't know do you? That's... kinda funny actually. You haven't noticed anything, well, peculiar about her, have you?"

"Hit. B2. No, nothing that would warrant suspicion. But that's coming from a Gotham resident. Maybe that sort of stuff flies past me." He stopped, just for a moment. "Then she's got something wrong with her, huh?"

"Oh no, she's perfect." He paused. "Well, correction: she was a little bit more rebellious than I expected. Hit! J5."

"Miss. B3" Rebellious, he says. Rebellious. Sure you can call a student or criminal rebellious. But a lover? Not unless you got something wrong with your own methods... "Is that so?"

"Hmmm, Hit. You sunk my destroyer! J3?" said Toyman, considering his move. "You think you've got someone figured out, and they go and manage to turn your life topsy-turvy. I just don't know how she did it, but oh boy, did she."

"Hit. A1. You could say that about anybody though. Everybody's kinda got layers to them you know. Like tree rings. Or cake."

"Miss. J2. I suppose that's true, but she really isn't just anybody."

"Hit. A5. Then who is she?"

"She is mine." said Toyman, pointedly, before clearing his throat. “Ahem. Miss. H3."

... Noted. "I'll rephrase the question. What was she like to you? Miss. F6."

"At the start, she was my perfect doll. Then a switch was flipped, and she fled. Eventually, that Big Blue Bully got jealous when I tried to get her back, but we fled together. I thought it would be different, or rather back to the way things were, but she was just as manipulative as she was when she left. Hit. J1."

"Hit. The ship has sunk. F5." ... This bitch is lonely. If I connect the pieces together, then he's probably been wallowing in his misery ever since. "That sure sounds rough. I totally get it. Is there anything you've done for yourself since she left?"

"Oh, you know. Just a lot of work around here. Trying to stay busy. I started my blog, but that didn't really pan out...Miss. E7?"

"Hit. C9." Bingo. "Maybe you could benefit from getting out more. I mean more than just a blog. Get some friends with different perspectives. Live a little. You discover more about yourself that way."

"I don't know where to begin with something like that.” replied Toyman plainly. “It's not like someone like me can just go out and try to chat with random people. People would take one look at me and want to run. It might be different over in Gotham, but over here, they would never. Miss. F6."

"You started off with your blog. And that got Peter to talk to you. That was a good starting point.

Maybe you could do the same thing. But you know. Without any alias or villain names. Then you wouldn't limit the people who share your niche interests to just rogues. Hit. C4"

"Miss, G7, And I don't think I can. I'm not much else but "The Toyman" anymore. I've devoted my entire life to get revenge on one man, and some alien takes him out before I got to try again. I'm not sure I am who I was anymore because I've been me for so very long."

"Hit. You sunk my ship. G1." Maybe that's why Darci ran off. Tch. "Then... Let's start off even smaller. Yeah. Bake the layers of your cake before you make the frosting! We'll just have to find some hobbies that click. Then we can go from there."

"Well, obviously I like toys. Uhhh, mechanical engineering? And movies.” He seemed curious, despite the mask. “Miss. C3"

"I'm sure there's plenty of other people out there who like movies and engineering too. Ever thought about joining a STEM group? Miss. F7."

"Hit. C9? There probably are, but what if they don't like me, or they find out who I am?"

"Hit. F8. If they're really your friends they wouldn't care, would they?" replied Dennis easily, although as his words settled in, he couldn’t help but wonder… I'm sure there's going to be someone to get me out of here. Hopefully not Darci… What if they've already forgotten about me? Or that they wanted me gone this whole time and they're celebrating my death as the minutes pass by? ...But that couldn't be the case. Almost everybody loves me!...Right?

"Hit. C10...I'm... not sure I want to talk about this anymore." murmured Toyman, presumably glancing away. "Do... do you like any movies?"

"Hit. F9." It's your funeral. "Oh, sure I like movies." Dennis smiled.

"Hehehe! Miss! C8? Do you have a favorite movie? O-or maybe a favorite genre?"

"Hit. E9, and… I only ever liked Quentin Tarantino flicks." he replied, with a blissful smile to accompany his lie. "I've always been enamored by the harsh reality of crime. It's just so intoxicating. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Miss. C7? Really? That's quite an interesting revelation about you, Mr. Prowell. I would have pegged you as just a musical fan, but that's what I get for assuming. I must admit it might not completely be my cup of tea, but I did enjoy Pulp Fiction."

"Hit. G9. Oh yeah! Crime's always been a big part of my life. My folks have always been a big inspiration for me when it comes to that."

"Miss. C6. Really? Your parents were criminals, then?"

"Hit. E5. Of course. Fine upstanding people they are. Looong before Big Blue came to town. Their old names were Songbird and Fireball. That ring any bells?"

"Miss. C6. They sound familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

"You already played C6. Tch...They were part of an underground gang way back when. But they quit that sort of work before I came along. Never told me why though. Which is strange..."

"Oh, silly me. I meant to say C5. Hmmm... Where were they out of?"

"Hit. You sunk my ship. A8, and...The Intergang, I think. That place used to be big on recruiting metas back in the day. I know that for sure."

"They were INTERGANG? I don't blame them for leaving. Miss. D10."

"Yeah it had something to do with a mix up that led to members getting killed. Least that's what my Pop told me. But my kidnapping was when my folks were especially put off by the business. The first one. Miss. D1"

"'Mix-up?' I wouldn't be surprised if that's just what Mannheim said to cover his tuchus. I still wish I could have been the one to finally stop that bully. Miss. B10"

"Wait, you were after Manheim? Which one?"

"Bruno. That awful devil sent my father to prison and ruined my entire life."

"I was fucked over by Moxie Manheim! Damn old coot must be in his grave by now... Anyways! You know how there's an initiation to join?"

"Ha! Well, it's a small world after all! I think I heard something about it somewhere. Why?"

"Yeah, well... Moxie didn't really enjoy that Songbird and Fireball ditched the Intergang to start a family, so he decided to keep tabs on them. Their weaknesses and all that. Now, Moxie also had some new recruits lined up waiting to be official members." Dennis leaned in, conspiratorial.."He's got a big criminal brain as you know, so he thought it'd be real wise to make me a part of the initiation. Killing two birds with one stone, as they say."

"D-did they do it?" asked Toyman, on the edge of his seat.

"Of course they did it! Stole me away while my folks were vulnerable! Nothing much I could've done, figuring this was back in 1977." Dennis collected himself. "But they weren't having it! This was the last straw, Winslow!" He held up his index finger rather righteously. "And you know what happened?"

Winslow leaned closer in anticipation. "What?"

"They snuck in there and took me back! But not without a musical number first!" said Dennis proudly. Plain as day, he looked up to his parents: it showed in the glow of his smile.

"That must have been an absolute delight to see. So, you inherited your powers from a parent? Songbird, I presume? What could Fireball do?"

"She shoots a flare gun." he grinned.

"Truly fascinating! Um, also, it's still your turn. B10. Was that the last they heard from Mannheim and company?"

"Miss. B10. Oh no. not at all. A bunch of failed attempts were made afterwards. And well, since Moxie's departure, Bruno was the guy looking out to see if they were any trouble. But now that Bruno's dead and Vito doesn't really care. There's some peace." Something, just then, just clicked into Dennis' mind. And oh how ironic it was. "Until now."

"Miss. B5.” sighed Toyman. "If you are referring to me, please don't be so dramatic. I mean you no harm, unless you mean it to me. I only want a little incentive for Darci to come here. And if she pushed you into my robot's clutches like you said, perhaps her final capture will be something you can relish as well."

"Miss, B5...Hmmmm.” thought Dennis, smiling a bit. "Well... I just find it hilarious that out of all the villains who I fall into the clutches of, it had to be the one that happens to despise the Manheims the most." He started fidgeting with a red piece in his hand. "Call it a hunch, but this seems a lot like destiny."

"It was quite the coincidence! As I said earlier, it's a small world. I might not say destiny, but who knows? Miss, D5?"

"Miss. E2. Well, nothing's impossible, kid."

"Miss. I8...Perhaps." Winslow fell silent, awkward.

"Miss. H1...For someone called the Toyman, you're not much of an optimist are you?"

"Miss. H8. For someone named Music Meister, you're not much of a musical film fan."

"It's not my fault that musicals are better on the stage." He smirked. “Miss. J6. Much more of an experience, you know? To go out and see something like that live and in the present."

"Miss. I9. I... see your point. But you're right, optimism isn't my strong suit anymore..."

"Anymore? Then that means there was a point in time where you were an optimist!" There's still hope!

"When I was a kid, sure. But after my father was sent away, well, it hasn't been very easy."

"Have you been to therapy for that?"

"No, my foster families never wanted to pay for something like that."

"But your foster families don't control you anymore, you're a free man! If you're able to afford it, at least give it a try."

Winslow buries his masked head into his hands. "But can a wanted man like myself just waltz into some therapist's office without a dozen people calling the police on him?"

"People wouldn't recognize you without...the mask, would they?" asked Dennis, curious.

He looks up with a shrug. "I'm 4' 10", and have a rather distinct voice. They might not know my face, but they still might know me. If I'm lucky, then everything would be fine, but if I'm not, then I might be in a lot of trouble.”

"Jeez, Metropolis has got some shit health care, doesn't it? If that's what's keeping you from healing... Hmm." Dennis tried to come up with an appropriate counter argument.

“I9. Being a supervillain isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"...But being an actor is! I've got it! And it's brilliant! Maybe we can't do much about your height, but you can do something about your voice and movement!...Oh. Sorry. Miss. H3."

"C-come again?" Toyman was genuinely surprised. "I don't... I'm not really... um...Miss. G2."

"Yeah, okay. You'd have to practice speaking from your diaphragm, but that's gonna be a sinch cause you got a performer around!" Dennis pondered. "Maybe change the names a bit for this new persona... That'd work so you wouldn't have to lie in therapy per se. We all know that goes nowhere."

Dennis made a square with his index fingers and thumbs to frame Winslow.

"I can totally see your persona now Winn! Hit! I10!"

"I'm not... sure... what you're talking about? I.....?" flustered the Toyman before sighing. "Miss. F2."

"You seem so deadset on people hating you, right? And the inability to socialize and get proper therapy is what's holding you back from being a healthy and paranoid free individual, right?

So, we just need to make you a persona so people won't know you're the Toyman! So people won't ‘hate’ you! It's a genius plan! I swear!" smiles Dennis, putting heavy finger quotes on the word hate, as he genuinely didn't believe that everyone everyone hates him. “Oh! Hit! F10."

"I don't think... Let me just say: I don't want to be anyone else. I am me, no matter how awful my life has been, I can't really change it. If I try to make a new me, that can only take me so far before I just go back to being me. I can't make people stop disliking or fearing me. But I have been trying to change the way I go about what I do. I wanted to stop Mannheim from ruining any more families' lives, and I want to help make sure no more families are robbed of their lives because of some self-centered sneak!" Winslow’s voice slowly rose to a shriek, before he finally settles back down into his chair with another sigh. "Miss. H2."

After a brief pause, Dennis gently pat Winslow in the shoulder. "You're gonna lose your voice if you keep yelling like that." sighed Dennis kindly. "I get that you're trying to be noble and save families and whatnot, but if you keep going about this like a self-deprecating martyr, then soon there won't be much left of you to save any families. Hit. I4."

He shrinks away from the first pat, but eases on the following. "...Yeah, I suppose. But at least I did help, right? Miss. I2."

"Yeah. Yeah you did. Hit. H2."

There was a pause as Winslow looked down at the table. Without looking up, he muttered “Hit. E2...and...thanks."

There's the ticket. Actually, this time… "No! Noo! It's just what friends do." A warm, glowing smile swept across Dennis’ face. "If you really think people won't like you, then I won't push it anymore. But I like you. I like your motives too. So don't stress about it that much."

"Y-you like me? I'm your friend?" said Winslow, genuinely taken aback.

"Of course!" Dennis said, minimizing the situation.

"I... I've always wanted a... a real friend..."

"If you wanted a friend, then why didn't you just ask?" Dennis gave Winslow that same warm glowing smile as he stood up.

Winslow sat still for a couple seconds before his emotions did finally catch up to him. He sobbed slightly but collected himself quickly. "Thank you so much!" he said, much happier than he'd sounded before. "So...E2?"

#music meister #toyman #dcau askblog #btas askblog #darci mason #darcimasonusb #askthetoyman #musicmeisterandtheinbox #event post #off camera

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evilelitest2 · 5 years

Note

Where the Nazis Left Wing? They were called National Socialist after all.

Thats all folks

Ok seriously, sorry if i’m being rude but I only ever heard this argument made by bad faith actors or gullible folks who just know nothing about 1930s Germany. THe Nazis as a Left Wing extremist organization is the type of thing that Far Right Pundits argue in books that they know will only sell to people who have no understanding of history and only consume Far Right Media, so I honestly kinda consider this question almost beneath me, but ok fine lets explain something which is super obvious.

(pictured, not leftists)

yes, the Nazi party, and almost all Fascist movements for that matter are/where Right Wing. If that wasn’t obvious by their beliefs (value traditionalism, patriarchy, anti immigrant, belief in hierarchy, conservatism) then it should be obvious by their choice of allies and enemies.

See when the Nazi Party ran for goverment during the Weimar Republic, they were allied with other political parties because you know....European Parliamentary politics. Infamously, in the 1933 election, the Nazis were only able to get 49% of the vote (despite massive voter suppression, cheating, and violence against the opposition). Hitler was only able to get the majority he needed to ally with other parties, specifically the German National People’s Party (Deutschnationale Volkspartei) or DNVP. THe DNVP was a conservative-Nationalist party who were the successor to the old pre WWI German Conservative Party.

In fact it was the DNVP which lead to the election of Hindenburg as President of Germany in 1925, and remember it was Hindenburg who appointed Hitler Chancellor after the 1932 election. This was part of the larger Hazburg Front, basically an alliance of all the Right Wing Parties to form a majority in the Parliament. This including the DNVP, the Nazi Party, as well as the Conservative Agricultural League.

(they had a very stupid logo)

They were also allied with the Pan-German League, a different German Nationalist Party, as well as the German People’s Party, who were a conservative Party. All of these groups would work together to ensure the Nazi seizure of Power in 1932-1933 before Hitler finally completely seized power for himself.

(The guy on the Right is the Hidenburg the Head of the Conservative Party, appointing Hitler Chancellor)

Another party worth mentioning here aws the German Centre Party (Zentrum) which was a Catholic Centrist Party which leaned conservative, who would eventually support Hitlers seizure of power. While they included left wing elements, the party as a whole included was Center Right, believing in the basic conservative principles you can find anywhere. They made the mistake of viewing Hitler as the lesser of two evils.

(Picture not Related)

Or even look at this internationally. The Nazi Party allied itself with Right Wing governments, from Franco in Spain to Mussolini in Italy, to the Governments of Hungary, Romania, and Croatia. Their allies in Vishi France were the Right, the Nazi allies in within the Soviet Union consisted of many right wing regimes, again and again you see the Nazis ally themselves with Far Right organizations. THis is at its most obvious with Imperial Japan, which was governed by a fanatically far right goverment. What all of these groups shared was a hatred of leftists of all stripes, in particular communist, and joint anti communist principles would prove to be the lynchpin of most of their groups. And this continues to this day, Nazi organizations identify with the right, even if they don’t necessarily support a specific party. It is no coincidence that the Neo Nazis in the US today call themselves the Alt-Right.

Basically if the Nazis were Leftists, they wouldn’t ally themselves with internationally with Right wing leaders. Here are some pictures of Nazi allies, guess which ones are leftists

....Thats right, fucking none of them.

The only reason why people seem to buy this is because of the term National Socialist, and if you had bothered to look this up, you’d know that it is because the term Socialism had different meanings in 1930s Germany than they do in America today. Basically the Nazis meaning of socialism was “take shit from non Germans and give to us” which is generally known as IMperalism. If you want more information, check out this article from Vox which explains it with more patience than I LINK

Now there were more socialist inclined Nazis when the Party was first founded like the Strasser brothers, but when Hitler took over the party he had many of these people purged from the party. In fact the left wing of the Nazi Party was largely killed in the Knight of Long Knives, though even calling them left wing is pretty far since they seemed to want “socialism but only for Ayrans”.

(never Trust Nazis...no not even then)

HItler himself basically hoped to co-opt the term socialist and the color red specifically to confuse leftist, a political strategy that experts call “U mad bro?”

Now Nazis were somewhat anti capitalist, but only in the sense that they felt both Communism and Capitalism were created by Jews who controled the world, because again, the Nazis were fucking idiots.

Now while Nazism is right wing, until 2015 I would say it wouldn’t be fair to compare Americna Right wing Political parties with the nazis except in the vaguist terms, but with the election of DOnald Trump, we have actual fascists in office now so...thats not good.

#ask evilelitest #National Socialist #Nazism #Right Wing #Left Wing #weimar republic #1933 German elections #Adolf Hitler #Night of Long Knives #Alt Right #Fascism #Far Right #Racism #Conservatism #DNVP #Gamergate #Neglected Historical Fact

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midoriyaizukustan-inactive · 5 years

Text

everyone shut the fuck up and CONSIDER trans girl iida

she supposes she always knew unconsciously that there was something different about her but she never rlly put much thought into it until some ppl in the class come out as trans* (like aoyama’s genderfluid, tokoyami’s a demiboy, nd tsu and jirou are trans girls)

and as class rep, but also (and arguably more importantly) their friends, iida wants to make sure she can make them as comfortable as possible abt coming out so she does some research nd stuff. like she knew trans people existed and were valid nd such before but she wanted to get more than just the basic facts

and shes happy for her friends! shes glad they trusted their class enough to tell them, shes glad she can be there for them. but she also notices that she feels rlly...weird? and she keeps doing research just because.......its interesting. but she doesnt know why she finds it so interesting?? and she gets kinda insecure abt that

so she keeps diggin into it and reads posts that trans ppl have made abt their experiences and just classic shitposts nd all that. she thinks the community is great!! and also she finds some fresh wholesome memes to share w her friends so its all the better. right?

but eventually she finds a community of trans girls specifically and she just absolutely COMBS through that. reads every single post there that she can find. but coincidentally she also feels even more insecure now bc shes starting to unconsciously question her gender nd stuff and lets be real folks. an identity crisis is not fun

couple this with the fact that she doesnt experience the traditional dysphoria(tm) that other trans girls seem to universally share, iida gets rlly down abt it. nd it gets to the point she rlly raaaaags on herself for still lookin thro these posts nd stuff and still subtly questioning herself and shes just rlly unhappy at the time :[

nd she doesnt wanna like make tsu or jirou uncomfortable so she doesnt wanna ask them abt it but shes so confused nd frankly hurt and she doesnt know what going oooonnnn with herself

so shes just in this complete funk for a while nd it starts to affect her grades and performance in training. her friends know smths up but iida doesnt know how to even explain how shes feeling so its not necessarily that she doesnt WANT to go to her friends but she literally does not know how to. anyway eventually aizawa keeps her after class and is like “ok iida smths up im gonna call tensei if u dont talk to me”

iida feels absolute HORROR at the prospect of tensei somehow finding out abt this bc oh shit what if he doesnt want her carrying on the name of ingenium anymore??? what if he thinks shes a freak??? what if he thinks shes not really a girl and shes just faking it to be special?? what if- and oh shit thats the first time iida rlly consciously thought to herself “im a girl but what if others dont think i am?”

so she kinda bursts into tears and aizawa internally is like “oh jesus what the fuck” but externally hes like “iida?? r u ok?? was it something i said?? oh fuu- is something wrong with tensei??” and iida just kinda speaks thro her cries like “no nothings wrong with tensei something’s wrong with me” and ill be real folks its real sad girl hours for a bit

anyway iida doesnt rlly elaborate much beyond that bc shes so ashamed and embarrassed but aizawa is like “u’ve gotta talk to someone iida ur friends r worried and frankly i am as well” and iida eventually promises to talk to someone

soo she comes to terms that since she so confused it would be best to ask tsu and jirou abt it even if shes,,,,so v concerned,,,abt making them uncomfortable. but she manages to convince herself that she rlly does need some guidance here and better to ask ppl who know her than ask on the internet sooo

thankfully while iida is working up the courage to ask tsu and jirou to talk, she finds posts derailing terf and truscum shit so she feels. a lot lot better abt everything but particularly the lack of any intense dysphoria she had after reading stuff like that, esp the more verified(tm) articles from the more verified(tm) authors (like doctors and psychoneurologists and such)

so she figures out how she wants to word her questions nd asks tsu nd jirou to meet up. tsu nd jirou agree right away bc all of class 1-a is worried abt their class rep at this point :[ so theyre happy shes finally reaching out

iida is kinda a disaster when tryin to talk but she gets her point across. like “uhh this is a rlly bad way to ask but how did u guys know u were,,,trans?” nd tsu immediately catches on but jirou is only a lil suspicious until further into the conversation

anyway eventually jirou catches on the same as tsu and thats when tsu asks “iida do u think ur trans??”

nd iida is sooooooooo tired of feeling ashamed bc damn. she does think shes trans! she does. she shouldnt feel guilty for how she feels she cant help that. so after takin a moment to steel herself she says “yea” as confidently as one can in the situation

tsu nd jirou r immediately supportive nd ask iida for more details abt how shes feeling nd iida is just,,,so happy,, since shes already on an honesty streak that afternoon, shes able to roughly get her wack emotions into words nd tsu and jirou are like “yea thats valid ur valid iida. it doesnt matter if u dont have the trademark dysphoria or that u didnt know until later in life like ur still young. u say ur a girl, ur a girl” iida cries but only a bit bc damn months of agonizing over this. we stan one trans girl trio.........

anyway tsu and jirou ask her how she wants to move forward i.e. transitioning or telling anyone, and iida hadnt even considered transitioning before bc it felt so out of reach but shes absolutely ECSTATIC at the thought of bein able to look more feminine and it Shows. tsu and jirou r like “ok mood we were like that too right before startin estrogen”

so the first unofficial trans girl trio club meeting ends w tsu and jirou promising to help iida ask recovery girl abt hormones and iida sayin she doesnt want to come out just yet to the class/anyone else in general and tsu and jirou respectin that. i love them yall

anyway after a few months, iida is ready to try hormone treatment so tsu and jirou help her ask recovery girl for a meeting nd r moral support for her while they go thro the process of like figuring out what dosage she should start w/, how long should she take it, when a check up appointment should be, if recovery girl should tell iida’s parents yet or nah, all that stuff. anyway after that, recovery girl gets her started on hormone treatment which iida is SUPER EXCITED abt and tsu and jirou tell her stories abt when they first started estrogen and AHHH I LOVE MY GIRLS SO MUCH FUCK

anyway eventually after some support from tsu and jirou via the unofficial trans girl club meetings and getting back on her feet confidence-wise, iida comes out to the class :,,,]]] theyre all super supportive and iida cries just a bit. tsu and jirou r so proud of her. aizawa is just glad his problem child #9 is feeling better

ashido and yaoyorozu get together and take iida shopping so she can have more feminine clothes which iida has a lot of fun w......shes never been necessarily big on shopping before (even if she is a part of the rich kid’s club lmao) but this trip is so EXCITING and ashido and momo r so happy for her and so ESCATIC to help her find some clothes and just oh my heart.......

the girls also have a sleepover during which they indoctrinate iida on all things traditionally feminine like makeup nd hair so that she knows the basics should she ever wanna mess arnd with that stuff. but also they just have fun doin normal things and just include iida in on being one of the gals nd iida is,,,so happy. tsu and jirou in particular r arnd her the whole night and wow my uwus they own them the unofficial trans girl club owns my uwus-

anyway so coming out and being accepted and transitioning is going so much better than iida thought it would be. she feels so safe and happy im crying.....anyway eventually some time later iida also gets permission to visit her family during a long weekend/short holiday w/e. nd while there she shakily but steadily comes out to her fam ofc her parents r so proud (her mom’s like ‘’ive always wanted a daughter yes!!! ily tenya’’) and tensei loves her all the same nd she cries a lil bit bc damn,,,,,,shes been fearing the exact opposite reaction for months

specifically she talks to tensei abt it for a little while and mentions her particular fears abt not being good enough to carry on the name “ingenium” nd he smiles at her nd is like “i would rather no one else but my little sister to carry on the name of ingenium” and bruh shes absolutely floored

nd yea. midoriya and uraraka absolutely love love love iida shes still their absolute fav. she joins the unofficial class 1-a trans* club as well as accidentally forms the unofficial class 1-a trans girl club. we love her,,,,

but yeah thats it. this post is so fucking long but oh well. stan iida!

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huahsu · 4 years

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YEAR OF THE BUTTERFLY

previous years: A SONG THAT DEGRADES EACH TIME YOU PLAY IT :: 2018 A CHURCH AND JOHN LENNON’S “IMAGINE” :: 2017 SIKH DEVOTIONAL MUSIC :: 2016 SPOOKY BLACK :: 2015 this year: I’ve spent the past few months working on a book that I’ve always wanted to write but never figured I’d make the time for. At a really basic level, it’s about listening to music with friends. A couple weeks ago, I devoted a few days to reading a stack of books and articles about the emotional experience of music. They were written by philosophers, critics, cognitive scientists, historians. I took from them two overarching questions. First, what does it mean to assign a piece of music a feeling, like “happy” or “sad?” Is the song itself “sad,” or does it just model a kind of sadness proximate to how we feel? What elements of a song do this? The fraying of a voice? Minor keys? Tempo? Is it all a trick of memory? None of the answers really satisfied me, since music is such an intimate thing. A song makes us feel a way for reasons that are often either blindingly obvious or remote and mysterious. An expert can tell you that humans are wired to feel joy when a certain configuration of notes are struck in tandem, but maybe it just reminds you of looking at the front door.

The other question was whether music itself facilitates any unique emotional possibilities--a mode of feeling that we can’t get anywhere else. Music doesn’t mimic the real world, it doesn’t make arguments. One writer suggested that the thrill of music was its capacity to remind you, foremost, that music can thrill you. In essence, each time we hear something new and feel something, we are being reminded of all the times we’ve felt this way before. We’re living in the echo of a former enchantment. Maybe you’ll hear it again, process it, assign it a genre or context, and the mystique evaporates. But music is one of those things that doesn’t happen on our time. We don’t stand in front of it and train our gaze on this quadrant or that. We don’t flip back to make sure we didn’t miss something. You can’t slow it down as it is happening, you merely let it happen.

In the spring, the Museum of Chinese in America in Manhattan showed “The Moon Represents My Heart,” an exhibition I worked on with MOCA’s curators, Herb and Andrew. The basic idea was to look at all the ways music had enriched immigrant life, from early opera troupes touring America’s Chinatowns to karaoke bars, church choirs, and after-school violin lessons, fifties doo-wop trios to garage punks and self-taught dance music producers. There’s no legible tradition of Chinese American music so we just wanted to present it as a textured and everyday thing--the experience of the fan could be as legitimate as that of a Mando-pop superstar. While working on the show, people would often ask me for a playlist, but I didn’t really have any to share. It wasn’t really about the music itself, which could sound derivative or amateur to some. It was about the fact that they sought to express themselves through music, in contexts that made them outliers and oddballs. I came to love all the music in our show because of that second-hand thrill--that sense that these moments had been deeply meaningful to everyone in the room.

You can hear it in the voice of Stephen Cheng, who ended up being the show’s most memorable star. He put out a rocksteady gem in the sixties and then spent the next decade in New York trying to get the Dragon Seeds, his Chinese “folk-rock” band, off the ground. Cheng died years ago, but Andrew found his children, who brought some reels of unreleased music to the museum. I remember staring at them, wondering what was on them. It was a kind of anticipation and wonder that I often miss, when the operative feeling I associate with music-listening on the internet is the frenzy of opening and closing windows, clicking links, proving my humanity to a captcha.

Stephen’s singing wasn’t great, but it was perfect. His version of “Yesterday,” all warbly and over-the-top, has now supplanted the original for me. Somehow, we played some of Stephen’s songs on the radio, including one about butterflies and love. Somehow, one of the people listening was a butterfly expert, and he was about to marry another butterfly expert. Who knew such a song was possible, the groom-to-be told me. Stephen was too obscure to be properly forgotten. Or maybe his song was just dormant all these years. It awaited just the right listener, and now, over forty years later, he would get his propers, sandwiched somewhere between the vows and Kool and the Gang, a couple minutes of people scratching their heads, searching for the right smile, saying Can you believe this? to one another.

### TEENAGE DREAM

Warren Defever/His Name is Alive, All the Mirrors in the House

EXCELLENT USE OF “P.S.K.” Kindness feat. Robyn, “Warning” EXCELLENT USE OF A TELEPHONE Mavi, “Guernica” TECHNICALLY 2018, BUT TAIWAN’S ANSWER TO COIL, JOY DIVISION, ETC SEN, “The Cicada” SAME (2018) BUT TAIWANESE DREAMBOAT VIBES Linion, “Can’t Find” ANOTHER, KINDA BILLY BRAGG-Y Wayne’s So Sad, “Wanderer’s Guide to Taipei” SUMMER IN TAIWAN, AND SO I BOUGHT A LOT OF CDs, INCLUDING THE LIMITED EDITION SIGNED 9M88 DEBUT 9m88, “Love Rain” THEY ARE VERY INTO THE “FUTURE SOUL” THING Andrea, “You Better Kiss Me” THIS GUY HAS THE SAME NAME AS MY COUSIN Yo Lee demos LOTS OF BACKPACKS Hsien, Lately AMAZED TO SEE LIM GIONG REISSUES THERE, THIS IS THE DANCE ALBUM HE RECORDED IN 1994 IN THE UK BEFORE BRINGING RAVE CULTURE BACK TO TAIWAN Lim Giong, Entertainment World (IF YOU ARE UNFAMILIAR WITH LIM GIONG, THIS IS THE GREATEST SONG EVER Lim Giong, “A Pure Person) AND HERE’S 9m88 COVERING “PLASTIC LOVE” 9m88, “Plastic Love” AIR SUPPLYERS Oso Leone, Gallery Love Sunset Rollercoaster, Vanilla Villa I ENJOYED THIS WHEN IT CAME OUT BUT HONESTLY FORGOT IT CAME OUT THIS YEAR, OR THAT I ENJOYED, BUT FOR THE LONGEST TIME MY “2019″ EMAIL DRAFT JUST READ “CHIEF KEEF HNIA KAIL MALONE (sic)” Chief Keef and Zaytoven, GloToven

ANOTHER DEVASTATING DUO Pink Siifu and Akai Solo, Black Sand

MYSTIC CHORDS OF MEMORY Kali Malone, The Sacrificial Code Clarice Jensen, Drone Studies I AM A SLOW WALKER, BUT I NEVER WALK BACKWARDS Michael Vincent Waller, Moments ana roxane - ~~~ A THOUSAND POINTS OF LIGHT Caleb Giles, Under the Shade Medhane, Own Pace WE ARE THE ONES WE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR Angel Bat Dawid, The Oracle Art Ensemble of Chicago, We are on the Edge READ JOSEPH JARMAN Joseph Jarman, Black Case I and II RESPECT YOURSELF Helado Negro, This is How You Smile Deb Never, “Swimming” LET’S DO IT AGAIN Tommy Holohan & Casper Hastings- RVE001 Eris Drew, Raving Disco Breaks LET’S DO IT AGAIN AGAIN, BUT SMEARED Burial, Tunes 2011-2019 OR PERHAPS YOU WERE THERE Callisto, Guidance is Eternal, Part I PERHAPS YOU WERE THERE FOR MICROHOUSE AND PEAK MEGO AND BLOGS Barker, Debiasing AT A WAREHOUSE PARTY, ABLE TO HEAR TOO MANY FLOORS, ROOMS, SOUNDS AT ONCE, IN A GOOD WAY Dies Smely, “Neptune Rises” AT A WAREHOUSE PARTY, BUT THINKING ABOUT PLUNDER, THE TRAIL OF TEARS, THE SANCTITY OF EARTH Kelman Duran, 13 Month A KIND OF BLUE Steve Hiett, Down on the Road by the Beach POSSIBLY MY MOST PLAYED ALBUM, 2019 Galcher Lustwerk, Information R.I.P. PRINCE, FOREVER AND ALWAYS Serpente, Parada Moodymann, Sinner Nelson Bandela, Purprain THE OPPOSITE OF “I AM A GOD” Nelson Bandela - “i'm mortal” YOU GOT ME Shane Eagle feat. Santi and Bas, “Vanya” HARD TO BELIEVE JAZMINE SULLIVAN REMAINS SO OVERLOOKED Kindness feat Jazmine Sullivan, “Hard to Believe” WATCH FOR THE HOOK Quando Rondo, “Gun Powder”

ANTE UP Polo G feat Lil Tjay, “Pop Out” “PANTS GON BE SAGGIN TIL I’M FORTY” Freddie Gibbs and Madlib, “Thuggin”

“WHY THEY LET THE TERMINATOR WIN THE ELECTION?” Sault, “Why Why Why Why Why”

HOLLOW BONES Showbiz and Milano, “Guillotine” LADI LUV, “GOOD TO THE LAST DUB” City Girls, “Act Up” MONEY BOSS PLAYERS Benny the Butcher feat 38 Spesh and Jadakiss, “Sunday School” Roc Marciano, “Richard Gear” WARP 30 (1989-2019) Droop-E, “The Droop-E Way” INTERSTELLAR SPACE, PROBABLY KILLER LIVE Blacks’ Myths, Blacks Myths II ALICE NEVER WENT ANYWHERE Sam Wilkes, “Sivaya” Alice Coltrane, Live at the Berkeley Community Theater 1972 RIYL: LYRICHORD, EFFECTS PEDALS Seungmin Cha, Nuunmuun RIYL: EFFICIENCY, INTERLUDES Solange, “Binz” “WHO HERE IS STILL LISTENING TO JOHNNY MAY CASH’S “DRUGS” IN 2019?” Playboi Carti, “Molly” “MOLLY” CZ Wang and Neo Image, “Just Off Wave”

YOU’VE SUBSCRIBED TO “UK STREETSOUL YOUTUBE PLAYLIST” Apiento feat Harriet Brown, “Down That Road” WHERE WERE U IN 2092? Jai Paul, “He”

LIL B, INNIT Voldy Moyo, Paper World SCREAMADELICA Vampire Weekend, “Harmony Hall” Humeysha, Nusrat on the Beach FOLKTRONICA Aldous Harding, “The Barrel” TOO PURE Springfields, Singles 1986-1991 MY AQUARIUM Rod Modell, Captagon ANOTHER WORLD IS POSSIBLE Vagabon, Vagabon 4-TRACK TWEE BEDROOM COVERS OF BLINK-182′S DUDE RANCH Colleen Green, Blink-182′s “Dude Ranch” as Played by Colleen Green

KINDA AS THOUGH A PART OF MY 2016-19 LP PURCHASES FORMED THEIR OWN BANDS Anunaku, Whities 024 75 Dollar Bill, I Was Real Joshua Abrams and Natural Information Society, Mandatory Reality

JUST 30 OR SO GECS Cool Fang, Sparring I’M A DEADHEAD BUT FOR STANDING ON THE CORNER SOTC Art Ensemble, SOTC Double Bass Ensemble * Merciful Allah Black Hole Theater * 4/24/19 SOTC Art Ensemble, Variation 9 * Merciful Allah Black Hole Theater * 4/27/19

SONG OF THE SPRING, SUMMER, WINTER, YEAR, STILL UNDEFEATED

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sirjustice284-blog · 4 years

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NEW cheap WAYS EMPLOYED

Now Italy and Germany has made the airplane whose gas cylinder is armored glass illuminated by many sets of bright laser lights as explained in following of tumblr a/c sirjustice199, so ya nation can buy and get off the spare-part or cut the photo diagonally, of high quality place in rye dough and spit saliva or hurl with solution of grinned yellow/ripe seldom apple fruit and boom its formed. So air-ticket will be cheap and affordable as many who did not have the same will be able to put a smile on their face to fly to destinations they wanted but could not due to insufficient funds they got at that time now can book a flight out of the reduced air-ticket out of the above described technology as in the link below as that plane can carry up-to 200 people

https://www.cleansky.eu/green-regional-aircraft-gra

https://techcrunch.com/2018/07/08/the-electric-aircraft-is-taking-off/?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAKeqqL6e1bFZPafp5STg_I974JwxGp3AIUv0tjsukPpTHFG1hVWptz-pq6Os0_pIadd7xrO4FqU73vyXM2A27b1Dce1Uzsm1WBEs9mC4zbcvSVNVsaztpL3QbHI3TB-n7fiTfaziqA7nh2oDZnMmbiGZKdLIXuQ4llKxyisk6zIM

https://inhabitat.com/japan-unveils-levitating-high-speed-electric-aero-train/

https://www.dlr.de/content/en/articles/news/2019/04/20191126_e-aircraft-novel-configurations-open-up-new-possibilities.html

https://www.pinterest.com.au/CoolElectricCar/electric-aircraft/

when u wear not all that new but partially old things like shoes or clothes u feel good and many don’t want that feeling as people struggle with life cause can take ya to hell fire yet they want u back in the new world after God ends procreation and judge every1. This the feeling, kinda, bro then coupled with Victory in Jesus song many whites hate, if u did not know

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JS9P8d2iOc

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&sxsrf=ALeKk00wrpH1X6DtV7qBOtGT9HslB453jA%3A1593692007250&ei=Z8_9XpHlDv2cjLsP0O-JkAI&q=old+rugged+cross+hymn+son&oq=old+rugged+cross+hymn+son&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQAzICCAAyBggAEBYQHjoECAAQRzoECAAQQzoICAAQFhAKEB5Q-w1Y_z9g4ExoAHABeACAAawDiAHZFJIBBzItNy4xLjGYAQCgAQGqAQdnd3Mtd2l6&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjRtOSvxa7qAhV9DmMBHdB3AiIQ4dUDCAs&uact=5

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-d&sxsrf=ALeKk0073fXBjCVlRBhRxzVp-gwlPgsG-Q%3A1593692252969&ei=XND9XtbYOpWejLsPudGmqAI&q=victory+in+jesus+hymn+song+choir&oq=victory+in+jesus+hymn+song+choir&gs_lcp=CgZwc3ktYWIQDDoECAAQRzoGCAAQFhAeOggIIRAWEB0QHlC2QVi1T2CybmgAcAF4AIAB-AGIAecKkgEDMi02mAEAoAEBqgEHZ3dzLXdpeg&sclient=psy-ab&ved=0ahUKEwjW9vmkxq7qAhUVD2MBHbmoCSUQ4dUDCAs

WOMEN then if u hate old things then it means u hate the old rugged cross as well and stand to be the cornerstone of hymn many songs.

If something builds USA then take it away like Bar kalare water, so we monitor if they continue to grow or it was just words or truth. U weak and freak, get up and walk ya talk as Christ Tells pierta, weka ta at night as now many can use drones to draw that water and sell to soaps and cosmetics shops but happy are we, if u share food take ya mind as u bathe with water with that spring water content or if u use the mentioned above soaps and cosmetics. Those are options to making ya face smooth and rye bread is the best as it makes ya head small and shape-full not as with the above water making the same big headed. The bottled water used in USA is from tz spring which if gotten from underneath as green-man had dug it along time ago but happy we are, in distilled water, if u place just gotten out the husks groundnuts it becomes more sweet and pure than the above water and below are countries producing much ground-nuts as much as USA states, so fellow take heed which is the richest states

https://beef2live.com/story-states-produce-peanuts-0-110114

http://www.agriexchange.apeda.gov.in/product_profile/Major_Exporing_Countries.aspx?categorycode=0501

Kikuyu even if u continue to outdo them still think they are with ya, bringing forth they things to ya, thinking u r with them like little kids, folks which kind of character is that, that they got goodies in store, if they are good many people will follow them so got to be that way, when u ask them of that goody is some1 posting on social media they know not they want to hack but not yet dude. Cant it continue like that, no dude, get to ya land them or shut up lest u r killed en-mass like in the movie in the link below 4warded to me

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=home+alone+movie+scenes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpfOhYRYv80

Women u don’t want, up to ya, see how, Kebi, is really enjoying as crying with foul when engulfed with/on/under/about it. Click the song links below 4 more, the shouting demarcate how the bliss intensified and drops b4 it equalizes

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AiubmZIehw8

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=mama+mia+by+jose+chameleon

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=valu+valu+chameleon

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=whisper+ying+yang+twins

Take this cup of suffering away from where i walk as u see an imaginary cup being emptied to cut ya heart tissue which if u drink like in every 2 hrs 1 cup of coffee, kinda, u feel like to vomit as its being cut or drink cold yogurt as curdled milk or chew high sugar content Bubble gum many understand not u do the same b4 giving ya names as when full grown up u should not do the same cause they know about ya death or just looking 4 ways to intimidate and control ya getting ya part of solving conflicts. African tribes involved in this stop, mind ya life, in this life we act either to get to heaven to come back again to new world as per bible or get to hell fire which burns us 4 1 week b4 we formed into lava/magma and atrophies 4 good not as earlier thought to be eternal fire as life. It will be eternal life here on earth as earlier purported b4 Adam and Eve committed sin, don’t commit another sin cause history has a way of repeating itself dude.

Electric airplanes will see air-ticket reduce even by 70% and imagine USA with that large tourist influx number officiates now their airplanes to run overseas routes like fly emirates or Etihad or Qatar, now getting the full profit as those introduced planes cut like 70% of those other nations planes that reach the USA to have a connection to other cities using USA made e-airplanes like Cessna 1 reap like full profit cause it aint involves fuel or if it uses fuel they have known how to make artificial jet fuel so don’t buy from middle east as previous saving that amount. Dude think wide based on the above and leave the USA all alone, only nation u can defeat is Britain, Germany or France and they had known it prior b4 they say they are your tribe blooded to elevate shame to keep them afloat as u struggle to do the same 4 them as kids take care of the old in society bro. States like NY got rye whose dough makes more stronger big planes than wheat do and thats its utility not to mention its chaff. Ground-nut husks when placed in yogurt even makes chewing gum which in some percentage coupled with tissue paper, bottled water and candy sold allover the states built that city and they got good will, cant atrophy provided the company maintain respect and gives the client the best quality and even find their way to countries such as Mexico and Canada or more.

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