#so I guess I didn’t answer it WRONGLY technically??

[theswedishpajas]

Do you have any songs that you like and recommend? Related to Beetlejuice or not! 🪲 🧃 🎶

Ooooo!!!!!!!!!!

I’m gonna preface this by saying that I like to listen to a lot of random music with varying degrees of adult content and if you’re a minor or not comfortable with that stuff, please don’t take my recommendations at face value and keep yourself safe and happy. A lot of the music I listen to gets really vulgar and dark and often touch on very existential or crude topics as those are the things my brain latches onto due to my own mental health.

I have so much music I really enjoy but it’s so hard to pin it down cus I either love every song from one band/artist almost equally (and extremely much) or I love random specific songs but to a lesser degree…!

I’m a really big fan of Will Wood in general, prolly my alltime favorite artist!! I don’t even really know an album I would recommend tho as all of them are so very different!!!

It’s kinda on a spectrum of depression and unhinged to somewhat okay and pretty calm, with his first album being on the unhinged&depression side and then in order until his latest album they slowly become more calm and healthier but still sorta struggling? That’s how I think I’d describe his music!!

The topics in the songs are very existencial a lot and get really dark so that’s something to look out for if that’s not gonna work out for you tho!!!!!

For a beginner listener I guess I might recommend the Self-Ish album, mainly because that’s the first album by him that I listened to, but also cus it’s really energetic and fun in it’s existencialism, it’s just kinda crazy more than anything else-!

Other than that…

*flips through youtube real quick to see what I like cus my memory doesn’t work right*

OH OF COURSE

Now, my taste in music is kinda fucked up-

But I’ll give a (much smaller than expected) list of songs (ESPECIALLY WITH THE MUSIC VIDEO) that I really enjoy for that exact reason:

Bring Me All Of Your Teeth by Hot Dad

O b l i v i o n by Ctrl Ult Delete

I am realizing I don’t wanna call songs I like fucked up without them being very specific cus idk what’s normal or not and I don’t want anybody to think a song they like is weird in a bad way or anything but I feel like these two are okay to call kinda fucked up!!! (Affectionate)

UHHHHHH

Man, I really don’t have any good grasp on anything I enjoy at all unless it’s a special interest???

I’d be happy to share the playlists I listen to the most if anybody wants to listen to them cus idk what else I’d actively recommend???

#ask #rambles #music #I am a goddamn mess don’t look at me lmao #I admire you humoring me and my weird brain and indulging in my very strange interests!!! #this lil wrinkly lump of mine which is also my entire being in the realest sense is all over the place all the time #there was literally a time I completely genuinely listened to all the Clowncore albums on repeat for a month or two-! #my gray matter blob is just going wild-!! #I literally have no idea about anything at any point unless I am staring at it or am asked a very specific question #idk what I enjoy man. I’m just a lil dude with autism and ADHD and suddenly I know all the songs by a random fucked up artist-!!! #thank you for the ask #I know I didn’t really answer very elegantly but I never do with things so I guess this was the outcome that was expected maybe-? #i talk so much and never about the topic at hand and suddenly I’ve recommended a whole-ass thing instead of being specific #I can never tell what the rules are for questions like this but technically the Self-Ish album contains songs?? (and only songs ofc) #so I guess I didn’t answer it WRONGLY technically?? #idk man idk #I would recommend beetlejuice music in general but my brain is taking that very literally and I’m not about to ask- #-people to go check out Vieze Jack cus that doesn’t feel very responsible even if I do absolutely love that gross babie of a man #it’s all dutch and I understand nothing but there IS a dedicated person out there who uploads his music videos with english subs #and I also have a friend who helps me translate when I need to (everyone say thank you to Kerenitychan!!!) #he started as a beetlejuice street/stage/whatever performer and later used it to make a name for himself #he has very weird toonjuice vibes and I love him so much-!!! #he once did the ice nucket challenge by pissing into a bucket and pouring it over a girl (but not really) and he’s so fucked up #bucket* #I love him so much #but he’s been trying to slowly change his brand. ge’s still got strong juice vibes but he’s gotten a more BJ-adjacent vibe now instead of- #-the full stripes and dark purple around the eyes and whoever does his hair is better now and stuff and I think his budget has just- #-improved over-all and idk he looks nice idk #ANYWAYS I NEED TO STOP RAMBLING ABOUT VJ LMAO #I should try to find my fanart of him and post it on here cus I haven’t yet since it’s not new art OTL

[shijiujun]

hey so uh, it's 110% Not Your Job, but can i ask for like a crash course on these chinese bl series that are everywhere around me but i don't know them. like i'm familiar with the untamed or however many names it has but i'm seeing two or three more???? help please if you can thank you

hello!! oh no worries, i happened to be looking for a distraction too so this was timely hahaha although it’s a pretty broad question since there are so many new live adaptations coming out (and some which have already come out which are featured as bromances), but let me see if I can like round this up for you a little. 

*i may be giving you a bit more than you need or like irrelevant stuff, but i guess i’m bound to hit something hahaha

Okay so the chinese BL series you’re talking about is The Untamed, and since you said you’re familiar I won’t get into it in detail, BUT just for like flow’s sake:

The Untamed (Chen Qing Ling) is based on the danmei (BL) novel written by MXTX, called Mo Dao Zu Shi (and yes however many like English translations to this title there is), or MDZS for short. You watched the live-action, and there’s like a lot of other versions of it e.g. the anime, the chibi anime, audio dramas etc. etc. the list goes on. In case you still haven’t seen any of those, just glance through this masterpost made by @the-social-recluse​ - In any case, right now everything is sort of already out EXCEPT:

MDZSQ - chibi donghua, cutest shit you’ll ever see

More MDZS merch 

Some teasers from MDZS mobile game which has been one year and developing

Now moving on to other BL series floating around so frequently - MDZS is the second book that MXTX wrote. So there’s SVSSS (The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving-System), which is also called lovingly by others in the fandom by Scumbag System/Villain in short, this is MXTX’s first danmei novel. Right now if you’ve seen this on Tumblr, it’s the anime (donghua) version - 10 episodes only for Season 1, available on WeTV with subs, finished airing like a few weeks ago. Translations of the novel are definitely out in full somewhere.

An absolute mess, but an organized one

Tried to do a manhua but failed

Everyone thought the donghua wouldn’t air on time either (it has a history of dropping development halfway) but it did

Would probably be the most entertaining if ever dealt with a live-action

And then there’s arguably, the most beloved child out of all three novels (at least right this moment) - TGCF (Tian Guan Ci Fu, or Heaven Official’s Blessing). This is the third and so far last (???) danmei novel MXTX has written, main pairing invented love. Strawhat-wearing scrap collector smiley angel with devoted kid-turned-adult-turned-ghost-king who follows smiley angel for like many years because he loves him. Anyway, if you’re seeing this, once again on Tumblr a lot, it’s the donghua version you’re seeing. Still airing, I think we’re midway through the whole season, the yelling starts Saturday (Asia time zone) and then extends into Sunday, sometimes Monday.

There’s like a god-tier Eng translation in full for TGCF by Suika

There is a manhua for this as well, only like 45 chapters in, but the time Jan/Feb 2021 rolls around, the donghua would have overtaken the manhua progress on the storyline HAHAHA

Apparently the director/production team who did CQL/The Untamed managed to get the rights to filming its live-action, but heh nothing much about that just yet aside from casting rumours and fans worrying that the casting will be done wrongly and also that they won’t be able to do justice to the story.

Alright now that we’ve more or less cleared MXTX and what everyone is hyping over (for good reason), let’s move on to the other CHINESE BL stuff you could be seeing (although I feel like you might not actually be asking about this), and these will all be live-actions (I’m also only clearing SOME of this year’s stuff, so none from before 2020, don’t ask me why I didn’t leave Guardian or SCI up here):

✨✨✨ Already aired, done and dusted or maybe ongoing, just ones I see on my dash and notifs so I definitely am biased ✨✨✨

The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty (Cheng Hua’s Fourteenth Year) - Many episodes, much bromance, base novel is gay af, but live action is cute af. Read more here and full translation is not yet done I think

My Roommate is a Detective - THIS IS A SPECIAL MENTION. NOT BL. Doesn’t even have like a book to go along with it, it’s just I’ve seen people getting into this again and creating content, so idk, imma just leave this here. It ain’t BL but it got the most glaring BL-esque relationship I’ve ever seen in my life. You’ll get what I mean if you watch it

The Lost Tomb Reboot - AGAIN another special mention, because many handsome young-ish men who you know, head into tombs, much bromance. Based on a huge series of novels, totally not BL, but as always with like a lot of men put into one story, ships happen. This year as well, in case you’ve seen it floating around

✨✨✨  Upcoming Chinese BL live-action adaptations, confirmed + casting + filming. You may have seen some of these because like posters were recently released etc. - As far as I know these are all slated for 2021 ✨✨✨

Faraway Wanderers (Tian Ya Ke) - A danmei novel by Priest, filming wrapped up, should be airing soon. Leads are pretty cute, although I’m sure they’ll turn this bromance. One of the male leads is known for a lot of period web dramas, and Gong Jun, the other male lead, is known for more contemporary modern dramas, but damn Gong Jun’s jawline

Winner is King (Sha Po Lang) - Another danmei novel by Priest, filming wrapped up recently as well if I recall? Posters recently released, and this is arguably Priest’s most famous and popular danmei

Immortality (Hao Yi Xing) - A super popular danmei novel called 2ha or The White Husky and His White Cat Shizun by Meat Bun. Filming also... wrapped? I think, because posters came out the next day and everyone from Earth to Pluto went mad, definitely one you should look out for next year spring i think, but I’m pretty sure there’s gonna be a hell lot more teasers, posters etc. coming up and then half of danmei Tumblr will probably go into cardiac arrest

The Society of Four Leaves (Zhang Gong An) - Ehhhh I think this hasn’t yet been filmed but casting was recently confirmed (contentiously).  Concept posters are up though. This technically isn’t classified officially as a BL. There are no CPs officially in the novel, but apparently it’s very like idk flirty etc., also slated for next year

*There are a few more by Priest, e.g. Liu Yao, but no concrete news that I’ve seen (by now like at least 60% of her danmeis either have a live-action contract or a donghua contract or both lmao)

✨✨✨  Upcoming Chinese BL donghua adaptations (2021-ish). All by Priest✨✨✨

*Throwing this in just as a by the way thing, because these are also recent news (these two weeks). There might be more but I haven’t seen anything yet personally :D

Imperfection (Can Ci PIn) - Space AU, the novel won like two national literary awards if I recall like last year? Anyway a brief trailer recently came out last week I think, and main lead is handsome af, and once again it’s space and space wars so it’s pretty cool

Silent Reading (Mo Du Zhe) - Novel is called Mo Du, and honestly I think the donghua has been like teasing fans for like idk years, but it looks like we’re finally getting to the donghua as the team previewed the first ep like... two weeks ago live to an audience? Modern crime thriller thing, there’s a masterpost going on Tumblr

Lie Huo Jiao Chou - Another Priest fan favourite, a historical + modern danmei combination. Much angst from what I’ve seen, but donghua teaser looked good also, released also last week

---

anyway hopefully some part of this or at least one part answers your question? if not, just send me another ask or like, DM me hahahaha

#asks #bl drama #chinese bl drama #danmei live action #mdzs #tgcf #svsss #mriad #tsomd #tltr #priest novels #tyk #spl #hyx #2ha #modu #cancipin #lhjc #long post #i hope i didn't miss anything? #it's been a mess recently #the whole list #HAHAHAHA #my danmei novel queue list

[houseboatisland]

Is Elizabeth on your island, and if so how has she adjusted after decades abandoned?

She is! And here's my headcanon for her:

Topham Hatt I, (The Fat Director,) had by 1926 accumulated a small fortune as General Manager of the North Western Railway. Reputed as a workaholic, (or boss-aholic,) Topham had sunk considerable amounts of money into his sprawling Wellsworth estate, Topham Hall. Topham was inspired by the undertaking of his sometime friend Sir Robert Walker, the Baronet of Sand Hutton. Walker's estate utilized war surplus one foot and three inch gauge locomotives to carry distinguished guests, agricultural produce, and coal to and bricks deriving from the nearby brickworks of Claxton.

The resulting pet project, the Topham Hall Railway, is where Elizabeth's story begins.

The T.H.R. was laid to what had essentially become the Sudrian "standard narrow gauge," of two feet and three inches. The line started from its Exchange Siding with Wellsworth Station, and made several crossings through the streets of that town's suburbs, before reaching the estate grounds. Hall Station brought passengers within a stone's throw of the mansion itself. Moving on, the line dove into the woods through a magical tree tunnel, with a spur at its opening for the engine and carriage shed. Crossing a brook over a three-span wooden trestle bridge, another station and a few sidings known as "Orchard Station" served the fruit and vegetable orchard. Another mile or so, and the railway stopped again for "Bowler's Station," where the Hatts and any guests could detrain for the estate's cricket pavilion.

Another half a mile, and the railway terminated at the Wellsworth Brickworks. This had been a puny operation before the THR linked up with it, employing only three men or so. After the railway's arrival, it expanded to employ a few dozen, and three more kilns were added. Throughout the Great Depression, Topham kept the Brickworks open and its employees onboard out of his own pocket, even as the bricks accumulated unsold. This was far more humanitarian than his treatment of NWR employees and three of his engines!

The railway had one locomotive, a royal purple Kerr Stuart 'Tattoo' class, named "Little Barford," technically a brother of the Mid Sodor Railway's No. 4, "Stuart." Little Barford arrived also with several v-tipper wagons, a dozen ex-War Department bogie wagons, four-wheel trucks and two ambulance vans. The ambulance vans were thoroughly rebuilt by the estate's woodshop to become an elaborate passenger coach, and a "Dining Car," which was quite identical save for the fewer seats and teeny gas cooker. The passenger coach saw constant use, but the Dining Car mostly sat in the siding at Bowler's Station as it cooked. The line was so short, it never could've done more than boil an egg while moving to timetable!

Capping off this complement of rolling stock was one Sentinel DG4 "Overtype" Steam Lorry, quickly named Elizabeth, after the Duchess of York's newborn daughter. Elizabeth was absolutely coveted by Topham, though he wasn’t exactly a steady hand at the wheel. Elizabeth was kept polished to perfection, even when her work involved carting such grubby loads as soil, clay, and coal. She was in every respect a "father's princess," but she worked dutifully and loved Little Barford like a twin brother. She also learned from her Victorian old master her favorite catchphrase, "We are/are not amused!" depending on the context.

The Second World War began in September 1939, and this national shift in priorities turned Elizabeth’s devil-may-care youth on its head. The Wellsworth Brickworks shuttered as many of its men volunteered or were called up, and housing construction all but ended. Little Barford was kept on at the Hall as the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries set to increase production on Topham Hall’s farms. Elizabeth on the other hand was, for the first time, moved away from her only home. As the civilian petrol rationing situation tightened, and private motoring was eventually banned, Elizabeth was suddenly very valuable as a coal-fired road vehicle.

She was commandeered and relocated to Tidmouth Harbour, working night and day as a dockside lorry. This was a very stressful period for her, for she was utterly friendless and out of her element. Although Sodor was never bombed, the routine blackout drills and stories of other ports destroyed, such as Liverpool, took their toll on her mentally. At some point however, she "bucked up." Elizabeth realized she was no longer an aristocrat's toy. For all she knew, Topham had probably forgotten her. As the military lorries she came face to face with daily were almost all of the internal-combustion type, who was to say that when, if ever the war was over, that he'd want her back if he remembered her?

In these circumstances, Elizabeth adopted her more familiar, stiff-upper lip personality. There was no time for polish or quaint little rides to the cricket pavilion, there was a war on! She became grubby, and liked to be grubby. She worked like the devil, and loved that even more. Her posh accent never left her, but she was now in every respect out to be a working girl. Elizabeth would never admit it to herself, but this huge change of self owed much to her upset at being removed from her only home. Did she legitimately like being a working lorry, rather than an estate owner's princess? Certainly she did. Was it an easy and completely voluntary change of character? Of course not. But it was done, and Elizabeth spent many nights assuring herself that it was the right path, the only path to have taken.

1945, the end of the war. Everyone was so jubilant. Elizabeth was cleaned and polished like a crown jewel, decked out with flags and bunting, and allowed to participate in the Tidmouth Victory Parade. In several colour newswreels of the event, you can spot her amid the cascade of tickertape and throngs of soldiers, nurses, longshoremen, civilians, tanks and lorries. It was no doubt a fun day for her, but now she thought a great deal about the future.

The war, which had been everything to her for six years, was over. Soldiers were being demobilized and coming home. Industries were retooling for the postwar world, to make consumer goods rather than several airplanes an hour. The Attlee Government, in conjunction with the devolved Sudrian Parliament established in 1946, had a grand vision for The Mainland and Sodor, where the welfare state for the long-suffering people and machines was vastly expanded, their jobs would be increasingly unionized and their bosses answerable to them, rather than the other way around.

Despite the historically harsh winter into the New Year of 1947, Sudrian workers, bouncing back much quicker than their Mainland counterparts, were delighted with PM Attlee's "New Jerusalem." Tidmouth Harbour was still very busy, as Sodor's biggest gate in and out for the world, and Elizabeth kept calm and carried on as time marched on. She was much busier than she had first feared, and that winter was her time to shine as so many petrol lorries were out of commission with "head colds." Elizabeth convinced herself, somehow, that these thousands and thousands of war surplus petrol lorries wouldn't take over. If so many had taken ill in these conditions, maybe Sodor, or even the whole world, would consider turning back the clock and restoring steam to the roads completely.

She feared and resented petrol lorries something terrible. When the petrol ration which had enabled her life all this time, was finally ended, she was heartbroken. Every worry she had seemed to come to pass all at once. First, the Tidmouth Harbour Authority decided it would be much cheaper to stack its fleet with war surplus lorries, and she was out of a job. Her next owner, a furniture mover, didn't keep her long, and neither did the next, a man who planned to fit her out as a bus and ran out of money.

By 1956, when the now-knighted Sir Topham Hatt I had died, Elizabeth had already been accumulating dust in a shed for two years. She never saw her last owner, who by now had failed to pay rent on her storage. Anopha Quarry, who owned the tumbledown little shack, seized her to make up the difference, but never once came to inspect the lorry who was now their property. Eventually, the Quarry forgot about her too.

It wasn't until 1961, when a little blue puffer deputizing for Toby on the Quarry Tramway carelessly had a coupling rod failure, that she reemerged. She made a heartstopping journey down the line for the necessary spare rod, pins, oilpot and tools in Ffarquhar Sheds, where she stirred up quite a scene, before an even more uncomfortable journey back. Elizabeth's Sentinel heritage thankfully preserved her for the whole ordeal, when Thomas' Driver, then at her wheel, worried that she'd explode and take him with her.

Back into the shed she went after this good deed, for how long, if ever to come out again, she didn't know. Until of course, that same night, a man very like her old Master, named Bertram just like his son whom she had given so many rides through the orchards and to cricket games, came to make a visit...

You can guess the rest :3

Sir Bertram Topham Hatt I was reunited with his childhood friend, and his father's favorite lorry. He immediately sent for her with his own money to be restored, and at once moved her back to Topham Hall, where she was herself reunited with the closest thing to a brother she'd ever had, Little Barford, who this whole time had been working as well as ever, and wondered why no one had ever gone to look for Elizabeth despite all his questions. It had been assumed, wrongly, that Elizabeth had perished on war service. That's how the Tidmouth Harbour Authority wrote it, after they pocketed her sale money! (Sir Bertram was LIVID not to get his hands on the now deceased Harbourmaster responsible.)

Elizabeth is now back to her childhood home hauling farm produce and any visitor willing to get dirty, for she still insists on carrying a bit of grime as a testament to her labours. The Wellsworth Brickworks has reopened, on a much smaller scale, as a "living museum," and Elizabeth takes great joy in carrying clay and coal again. Her, Little Barford, and Sir Bertram are now tighter than they've ever been, and Sir Bertram is the only man allowed to polish her. He's a much more sedated force at the wheel than his father, she notes, and quite often!

We ARE amused to see her <3

#ttte #ttte elizabeth #ttte the fat director #topham hall railway #ttte little barford #ttte worldbuilding #ttte thomas #ttte oc: sir bertram hatt i #tw death

[callme-chaos]

Tommy SMP (DSMP)

H-hello? How did you get in here? Tommy doesn’t usually let randoms in. Uhhhhh lemme just consult the list real quick. What’s your name?

Huh. Doesn’t sound familiar. Buuuuuuut there you are. On the list. What’s your purpose here then, pal?

A tour? Well, the person who usually does the tours is out in the moment… But I guess I could show you around. If you would like to follow me – yeah just ignore the holes and stuff. They’re just remnants of a couple of wars we’ve had.

What kind of wars? Bro, where have you been?

Not from around here? Evidently. Well, first there was the Disk Wars. You see, Dream had these cool disks but Tommy really wanted them, you know? And this is /Tommy SMP/ and not /Dream SMP/ after all so there was all that. Then there was this Quackity kid who tried to start a nation and Tommy didn’t really like the look of that. And so Tommy and this Ranboo guy decided to blow it all up – I don’t remember the details. You see, I’ve been away… uhhhh… travelling so I don’t really see too much of what goes on here. That and I seem to be forgetting a lot of things… I really should fix that-

Huh? You’re confused. Buddy – I haven’t even told you about the Egg yet!

Yeah! An Egg! I can show you it right now actually. Just follow me.

The vines? Yeah! They’re a nice shade of blue but they’re a real pain to cut down, you know? They just seem to grow back stronger. Now, just pop down this hole here – yeah just straight down.

Oh! Ah. I really should have warned you about the fall damage, huh? I’m sure we can pop into George’s bakery later and fix you up. Providing George is in his bakery… He stopped baking a while back.

Why? I don’t actually know. I’m not really too involved in the politics around here (travelling and all that) buuuuut I heard a rumour that him, Ranboo, Charlie Slimecicle and Technoblade have started like a secret club. Not sure exactly what they do but if Ranboo is involved it can’t be good. Anyways! Here’s the Egg. Don’t step too close though – I’ve heard it has some serious manipulative powers. Niki’s best friend Foolish got transformed by it the other day. She was quite upset. I think she runs a cult in the Egg’s honour with Ponk or something now. She’s nice but pretty scary when she wants to be, I’ll tell you that much.

The Egg is giving you weird vibes? Yeah. You and me both. The blue is giving me shivers actually. Shall we continue our tour elsewhere?

Next? Hmmmmm. I know! I’ll take you to Hannah’s castle and museum. They’re a great tourist spot! Follow me.

Yes we have a museum! History has been made here on the SMP, I’ll have you know. This SMP was founded by the Tommy Team made up of the hot-headed, dashingly attractive Fundy; the greatly popular, widely enjoyed Bad Boy Halo; and, of course, the 1000IQ man himself, TommyInnit. Though, Tommy… hasn’t been about much… lately… not since… you know…

Well, if you don’t know I hardly have the time to explain now! (I’ll maybe show you later if we have time…) Anyways! Here we are: Hannah’s museum. This miserable little dark room here is a recreation of L’Manberg’s Final Control Room. Back in the first L’Manberg verses Greater Tommy SMP war, L’Manberg’s founding fathers (Schlatt, Sapnap, President Quackity and Vice President Dream) were all betrayed by a member of their own battalion: Hannah-Rose. They were dark times, kid.

You want to know more about President Quackity and his right hand man Dream? Well, they were incredibly close – practically brothers. They both went through a lot together. Until Quackity finally blew up L’Manberg and was subsequently killed by his own father, Charlie Slimecicle.

I didn’t say they were dark times for nothing, you know? Dream took it harder than anyone. And Tommy took the opportunity to traumatise and manipulate the fella further. Tommy even managed to convince Dream’s best friend, Schlatt, that he was the root of all problems on the SMP.

We couldn’t believe it either. Dream did have one friend, Ranboo, for a while. But they ultimately disagreed on their ideas of justice and went their separate ways.

Sad times, indeed, kid. Anyways, where to next… Oh! Hello, Eret! How are you doing?

Ah. He’s busy. Off being cracked at bed wars I suspect.

What’s the big black building over there?

Uhhhhhhhh… Have you seen HBomb’s hotel? It’s great this time of year! Just this way, matey. Technically it belongs Dream but HBomb briefly took it over. There was some kind of dispute between the two guys – nobody here really takes HBomb that seriously. (Personally, I blame the ancient skin he still wears. Kid really needs an update, you know?)

That? Oh, I suppose you can still see some of the remnants. That used to be Punz’s UFO. Someone blew it up but I’m not entirely sure who…

How do I know it was blown up? Look, I’m just taking Quackity’s word for it.

He did die but then he was recently brought back to life. He spends most of his time with Dream outside Las Nevadas.

Las Nevadas is basically the Tommy SMP version of Las Vegas. It’s pretty cool actually – wanna check it out?

Cool! We’re actually heading in the right direction for that anyways. So, where are you from?

Yeah, I gathered you weren’t from around here but where are you actually from?

…Not gonna tell me? Fine. So be it. You sure are a mystery, huh?

I’m not flirting! I just- I… Ah! Look at that! We’re already here! It’s pretty dramatic, right?

You should see it at night. Everything lights up and it is magnificent.

It belongs to Wilbur. He’s the head honcho around here. He’s here alongside Puffy and Phil. Oh! Speak of the devil, if you squint a little bit you can see Phil down there now, bouncing around. He’s a cutie really – though his puns do get tiresome.

What do you mean “you don’t get tired of puns”?

…Are you human?

…What a terrifying answer. Okay! Moving on!

I’m aware that it’s one of the ugliest structures in existence – but you can’t blame Wilbur and Las Nevadas for /that/ abomination. That’s what Quackity and Dream installed last time they were here together.

I know it’s phallic but you don’t have to say that out loud! Come on, man, have a little class.

That up there? That’s Schlatt and Techno’s “cookie castle” as I like to call it. When Dream was exiled, Schlatt met Techno and they started getting really close. They’re everybody’s favourite couple now. I think it’s a friendship that will last a long time, you know? They seem to have a lot in common.

Like what? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh They’re both American?

Look, if you know, you know.

Alright! Next – shall we have a change of scenery? Las Nevadas can get quite… heated, so perhaps we can give the snowy biome a visit, yeah? Now, when we get there it’s important to tread carefully: the forest is enchanted, practically everything there will eat you and, worst of all… Ranboo lives out there.

Ranboo? He’s a terrifying force of nature. I heard he slayed an entire army all by himself, owns a pet polar bear and he helped Tommy take down the entirety of L’Manberg. Ranboo and Tommy – they’re one formidable duo.

No no! There’s no need to be afraid! Apparently Ranboo’s arsonist days are over and he has his carer Charlie Slimecicle watching over him so he’s been relatively quiet recently. I like to think their neighbour Technoblade has been a good influence on them both.

Technoblade is a gentle soul. Poor kid just wants to make everyone happy, you know? I wish everyone was more like Technoblade sometimes – the world would be such a different place…

Nah, nobody can really sleep soundly – not when Antfrost and Purpled are still out there. The Eggpire and Las Nevadas never really rest when it comes to their members. Oh! But by far the worst person to come across – the real reason I haven’t slept in weeks on this server – is… Oh. Oh dear. I think I’ve summoned him. Walk this way – quickly! – and don’t make eye contact…

NO JACK I HAVE NO DESIRE TO WITNESS THE JACK MANIFOLD “GRIND” NOW PLEASE TAKE YOUR FILTH AND YOUR CAT-MAID OUTFIT AND GO BOTHER SAPNAP OR SKEPPY INSTEAD!

…Alright, no need to look at Jack like that.

Jack Manifold in a cat-maid- no. Don’t make me lock you up in Pandora’s Vault along with- uhhhhhh.

Forget I said that. Speaking of Skeppy, he built Schlatt and Techno a beautiful mansion around here somewhere-!

He also built an extraordinary diamond sculpture a while ago-

Please no.

…I guess you leave me no choice then, huh? I guess, I can show you the prison – but we have to be really, really careful, okay?

Who’s inside? Well…

I didn’t forget! It just… Tommy. Tommy is in the prison right now.

Well, of course I didn’t want to tell you! It doesn’t really look good on the server when the person its named after is locked up for life for doing unspeakable things.

No! I’m not gonna tell you what unspeakable things he did – it wouldn’t make them unspeakable then, would it?

…I don’t believe anyone else is in there, no. Why?

Ranboo? Nahhhhhh! Ha ha! What do you know, you silly goose! Well, before we go into the prison, we’ll have to get Puffy’s permission. She’s really strict about who she lets in and out of the prison and takes her role as prison warden very, very seriously. No one has ever died or been injured or brought back to life or wrongly imprisoned while the prison has been in her care.

What do you mean – “not convincing”? If you don’t trust my word, then that’s a /you/ problem.

…The prison is this way. Now, when we get in let me do all the talking… You know what? Perhaps you should stay outside. I’ll go in, talk to Puffy and try to get permission to go in – but I make no promises, understand?

…Alright, wait here.

…

…

…

Puffy said no.

No, it was a pretty definitive no actually. Wh-where are you going?

You can’t! Puffy hasn’t given you permission!

There’s nobody in there /to/ save. Tommy deserves to be in there-

There is nobody else in the prison!

You’re insane.

No, I won’t let you.

…

…I don’t think so, matey. Feel that sharp object between your shoulder blades?

I figured you did. That’s my sword. I am not afraid to push it through your chest if it means keeping you out of that prison. Understood? Now, step away from the prison.

Thank you.

…I think that concludes our tour. Perhaps it’s best you- oh! Karl is here! Karl Jacobs! Over here!

Yeah. He doesn’t talk ever but he’s still a great guy, you know?

Oi. Wave back. It would be rude not to wave back.

My name? Oh my goodness! I totally forgot to introduce myself! (Though, you never really asked until now anyways…)

It’s okay! I know I talk a lot – it can be difficult to get me to shut up sometimes – ha ha!

My name is Callahan.

#tommy smp #dream smp #tommyinnit #dream #callahan #tour #dumb #this was dumb #but still a lot fun #my name is callahan

[mstrumpeter]

“I’m glad we both have found back to you.”

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader (chapter four)

So finally here's my fourth and last chapter of my little fic, sincerely sorry for the highly cheesy ending.

Word Count: 1,800

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies.

Warnings: slightly swearing, age gap, jealousy, fluff

Summary: You met a handsome musician and his band, including a surprise form your past.

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

A few days had passed and Kelsey spent another afternoon at the Soul Food Cafe like usual, at her usual table, with her usual order. She was scribbling on some sheet music, some fingering tabs of notes she simply couldn’t remember. Alan will be fuming when he sees that. She softly chuckled to herself. She took a big bite of her chopped cheese when a man, dressed in a black suit, black hat, black boots and sunglasses walked by. He noticed her sitting behind the window and quickly turned around on his heel, walked in and took a seat at her table. It was Jake. “Mind if I join you?” 

“Well you already have.”, Kelsey chuckled. “I’m glad I found you here. Listen, I’m gonna keep things short. Elwood’s my brother and I love him more than anything else. Which is why I don’t want him to get hurt, alright? I don’t know what’s going on between you and him or you and Mr.Fabulous and neither of that is any of my business. I do wanna make one thing clear. Don’t play with any of them, especially not with Elwood. He is a good guy, always trying to do the right thing okay? So I don’t know but make up your mind as soon as possible, before anyone gets hurt badly.” He does really care for Elwood, stepping in for him like this. “I got you.” Kelsey nodded her head. “I don’t want anyone of them getting hurt either.” “Good.”, Jake said satisfied. “Guess I see you around then.” He shortly implied taking off his hat with a smile on his lips and left the diner.

The next day Alan and Kelsey had another lesson, although Alan really didn’t want to go. He missed her like crazy but he also was angry at her for being intimate with Elwood. Technically he didn’t have any reason to be jealous though, so he told himself to act mature and went to her place. “So how does the practise come along?” “Okay, I guess” Kelsey shrugged her shoulders as both walked into the living room. They both took a seat while she softly blew into her mouthpiece. “I practised the intro of ‘Minnie the Moocher’. Well, of course not the intro YOU play just the regular melody.” He sighed. “How about you play those etudes I told you to practise.” “Yeah sure.. but I’m pretty decent on Minnie..-“ “The scales, Kelsey!”, he said while grabbing the beginner’s book. Kelsey started whinging impatiently “C’mon you know how much I love that song!” ”You weren’t supposed to practise Minnie the Moocher!” Alan said in an angry tone. “I know, I know but playing songs is so much for fun!” Kelsey tried to explain herself. “Look this isn’t about fun!” He was fuming as he got up from his chair. “If you want my help DO WHAT I’M TELLIN’ YOU TO DO!” The girl looked at him confused. “Well, I did…” “Seems to me like you didn’t!” “What’s the matter with you today?” Alan didn’t say anything but turned his back to her, looking out of the window. He was hurt but didn’t want her to see that. Slowly it dawned upon her. “Wait - is this about Elwood… and me?” The man standing at the window took a deep breath. “Look, I know we only kissed once but I’m sorry… I can’t handle hearing about you fooling around with someone else.” “Hold on.. Did Elwood say we had sex?” “Well, he didn’t literally say that. He didn’t need to. ’A gentleman does not boast of his conquests.’, Alan said in a sarcastic tone. “But c’mon we all know what that means.” He turned around to face her. “Whatever it may mean usually, nothing happened between him and me.” Kelsey instantly regretted using the word “nothing”. “Okay ‘nothing’ might be a lie, I’m not gonna lie to you. We kissed but that was it.” He looked at her for a minute. On the hand he was relieved they hadn’t been in bed together but on the other hand he still was jealous about their kiss. “I don’t wanna lose you, Alan. I didn’t know how much I’ve missed you until I saw you again.” He gave her a little smile. “So, Minnie the Moocher, huh?” She gave him an apologising grin. “How about I play it for you once and then we go back to your boring exercises?” 

The mood still was kind of tensed and awkward, especially as their lesson had come to an end. Alan stood in the doorway, completely sunken into her eyes. He grabbed her little hand and leaned into her at slow pace. She obviously knew what he was up to. And ooh how badly she wanted to give herself to him. She missed his soft lips, his hands on her and his scent. But before getting involved with any of the two musicians, she needed to find out what her heart wanted. The girl stared into his eyes, watching him coming closer and she know she shouldn’t but when he pressed his lips on hers, she closed her eyes, kissing him back hasty. It was a passionate and fervent kiss. She was yearning for his taste and a warm shiver run down her back when he cupped her face with both hands until he grabbed her hips pushing her a step back inside, finally bringing her to her senses. No, no. Stop it! She rapidly pulled herself away, looking down at her feet. “Alan we - I shouldn't do this. Give me some time, will you?” She looked at him ashamed. He exhaled, “Of course…” He gave her a smile but in his eyes she could see his frustration and pain. Obviously gutted he turned around and walked down the stairs as she watched him leave, disgusted by herself.

Kelsey knew she needed to find out what her heart wanted and that some distance would help her with that. So she decided to take a break from Chicago and booked a short trip back home to Scotland, were she still had her grandparents left. She told Elwood and Alan that she went to Glasgow to visit her family but both musicians knew it wasn’t just that. She was sure the distance and distraction would help her, a nice trip to the Highlands and the fresh air would clear her head and open her heart.

Kelsey arrived at the O’Hare airport somewhat early. She had often flown before but every time she did she still was a little nervous she’d be late and miss her flight. She checked in her luggage and passed the time with some reading and listening to music. Finally it was time to get on board and as she found her seat she sunk in it with a weary sigh. She looked out of the window, slowly closing her eyes. Jake was right though, she needed to make up her mind as soon as possible or rather her heart. Elwood and Mr. Fabulous were so different really, needless to say both were extreme  good looking.

Elwood was the cool, witty but also kind of mysterious and dark guy. With him everything seemed like a big adventure, even the boring things. Because of that very same hazardous lifestyle though she feared he could end up in jail any moment.

Alan was the more settled one. Even though he worked as the maître d’ at the Chez Paul, he lavished time on the band. Whenever he was around, Kelsey felt like she could calm down and settle from the turmoil that was surrounding her. They shared a past, a deeper connection emotionally and of course their love for the same instrument. 

Soon she would leave everything behind, even if it was for 10 days only. The job, her flat, the city, the hustle and bustle and… She rapidly opened her eyes as she realised she’d be over 3600 miles away from him. Was it that easy? Almost carrying out a threat of leaving the country, not being with him for over a week? She jumped up from her seat, making her way to the doors of the aeroplane. “Miss, I’m afraid the boarding has completed and the gates will close any minute.”, the stewardess was standing in her way. “But - I can’t be on this flight!” When another passenger was coming on board Kelsey gave the woman a dirty look and quickly squeezed past her running to the doors. Luckily she just could slip through them before they were closed. She ran downstairs, though the entrance hall and jumped in the first cab she could find. During the ride her right leg was bouncing up and down of excitement or nervousness, she couldn’t tell. As she finally stood in front of his door, she took a deep breath before knocking. No one opened, so she knocked again. Still nothing. Kelsey sighed and turned around disappointedly. As she started to walk away from the door she heard a familiar voice. “Kelsey?” She wheeled around. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Scotland?” “I am.. I mean, I was.” She stammered. He gave her a confused look. “Oh I’m sorry, why don’t you come in.. I just got out of the shower and needed some time to put on clothes before answering the door.”, the musician apologised to her. Only now she noticed his dark hair was all wet and a few strands fell into his face. In the rush he had buttoned his shirt wrongly, allowing her a glance at his firm, slightly hairy chest. “So what happened? Did you miss your plane?” Kelsey smacked her lips when she forced her look to leave his chest and search for his eyes. “No, no… I - I was on the plane when I realised my heart already knows what it wants … and whom. So I needed to get the hell out of there, before that plane was leaving and I got here as quickly as I could. “I see. And that you’re seeing me first is a good or bad thing?”, the man asked unsettled. “I’m ONLY seeing you, you little dork.”, she said playfully and smiled. “It really is silly but when I imagined you’d be at the other end of the world for a week, I realised I’m won’t be able to take this. And I feared to loose you. You must think I’m a coward for wanting to leave the city.” “Frankly I’m just glad you’re here with me.” He softly brushed a curl out of her face. “I love you Kelsey.”, he confessed to her. “I love you, too, Alan.” And she gave her Mr. Fabulous a slow, sizzling kiss.

#Blues Brothers #Blues Brothers fandom #blues brothers fanfiction #Alan Rubin x Reader #Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Elwood Blues #Mr.Fabulous #Alan Rubin

[dr-imaginesandscenarios]

29, 30 and 31!

Danganronpa Ask Meme ( Accepting for this blog ) Spoilers tagged for all the games and anime below! Please don’t read if you don’t like spoilers. 

___________________________________________________________

29. Which character should have survived in your opinion? 

Well, I would say Nagito because of everything but according to the DR3 anime, everyone in DR2 is alive (Except for Chiaki) so he’s out. Everyone in DR1 I felt fit their roles, well except for one but we’ll get into him later. DRV3 is one I”m a little iffy on who they picked as victims and survivors. I guess I actually say Gonta. Gonta in my opinion is that innocent cinnamon roll that either should die at Chapter 1 or just survive because of the story. As much as I love Chapter 4′s trial, I feel so bad that Gonta had to have that role.  And I just think...he should have been able to live happily with all his friends that he loved. Again, I understand why they did what they did, but I just feel he should have survived all the way to the end. As for Kaede? Well if anyone has played DRV3, you know that Kaede should have never died. She never fucking killed anyone and therefore was wrongly accused. Technically all of them should have been dead because the real one was never executed. Plus she had so much potential as a character and I get why they did what they did but doesn’t mean I’m not salty for it. Plus again they went against their own rules, like I get why but man low blow guys. The ending would have been nice with her but I accept what we got. Also if we’re also going into Despair Girls? Yuta. Yuta all the way. He did not deserve the fate he got. I wanted him and Aoi to meet up and the two to be a family again. But nope, we got the feels. Why game, whyyyyy? Again there’s other people I feel should have survived, like most of the victims but overall? Those are the top people I think of. __________________________________________________________

30. Which character would’ve deserved to survive? 

Would’ve deserved? Oooh, that’s a tough question. Like there’s not an easy answer, looking at the characters. Because I feel a lot deserved to survive but some had questionable methods. I can say for sure, none of the murderers in DR1. They truly deserved what they got and I accept that. DR2′s characters all survived according to the anime so we rule them out. Against except Chiaki but I have my own opinion on her death. ( Yes she should have lived but in a way it’s good she didn’t? I’ll explain if anyone asks )  DRV3′s murderers well I can say 3 should have survived and absolutely deserved to but if we have to pick one out of all the characters?I have to say Sakura deserved the most to survive. Sakura yes died on her own terms but I feel she deserved to win and take down Junko. She was technically not a murderer because it was herself. Think about all that she did as the traitor and it wasn’t even for a selfish reason. It was to protect the people she cared about. She was forced to become Monokuma’s mole and deceiving her own friends ATE at her over and over. Can you imagine the guilt someone went through, knowing that she’s working for the enemy? It probably also messed with her moral code as well. Then when Monokuma outed her for what she was and forcing all this discord on her and of course forcing her to find an out by killing herself. I know this was her own wish but if Monokuma hadn’t done those things, Sakura never would have done so. Which yes, her death was necessary for the plot but I feel like it could have gone the same way if she had survived and everyone came together. Plus she could have rebuilt everything when they got out. So yeah, those are the reasons I think Sakura deserved to survive. Going by character personality and what not. 

___________________________________________________

31. Is there a character you think who shouldn’t have survived but did? 

Hagakure. 100% Hagakure. Like I like Hagakure as a character, much much more than Hifumi. But seriously, he was caught in two attempted murders and didn’t die. I was just waiting for the next victim to be him, I never played the demo but I get why they didn’t make him a victim. Would have been too obvious. Like I’m not happy Touko survived either but she at least had a reason and she got her time to shine later. Hagakure has not shined at all since DR1. Even in the anime he was just there outside the Future Foundation. It felt like he did nothing and just survived by dumb luck. I mean I’m not a fan of Sonia surviving in DR2 but she at least did something. But yes, Hagakure should not have survived but I guess that’s how the writers made it be. 

#mod lexie #;lexie talks about danganronpa #dr1 spoilers #dr2 #dr3 spoilers #drv3 spoilers #super dangan ronpa 2 #dangan ronpa 1 #dangan ronpa v3

[sassycassie-s-writing]

To Be Happy - Summer (Fin)

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam, SuperFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood & Conner Kent/Kon-El/Superboy

Rating: PG-11 (violence)

Original Idea: Part 1 Summer, Part 2 Autumn, Part 3 Winter, Part 4 Spring

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is a bit longer than the others! It’s also the last part! @welovegroot

^^^^^

Approximately Four Years Later…

^^^^^

June 14, 7:15AM

Red Hood peered over the town, chewing the inside of his cheek under his helmet. Mt. Justice, to the north, stood like a mighty statue. It loomed over the nearby town—a silent protector.

Red Hood scoffed at the thought. “Sure. Leave the protecting of innocent civilians to a bunch of kids. What was the League thinking?” he muttered under his breath. After another moment of regarding the town from his vantage point on the hills to the south, he cracked his knuckles. “Well. I guess it’s now or never. If I don’t go see her now I never will.”

^^^^^

June 14, 9:10AM

I woke up to a hand gently running the backs of fingers down my face. I groaned in complaint at being woken up and peeled my eyes open.

I wasn’t in my room. I sighed. “Did I fall asleep in your room again?” I mumbled.

Kon chuckled. “Yep,” he said.

“Mm… ‘M sorry.”

I felt Kon shift on his side of the bed. His hand rested on the side of my head. “Don’t be sorry, babe. I like it when you fall asleep in here. It reassures me that you’re safe.”

“You’re so sappy when no one else is around,” I said.

“Just for you,” he said. “I'm every bit as in love with you as I was when we first started dating—if not more so.”

“Aw. That’s sweet. I am too.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. He smirked at me.

“You ever think we should move out of the mountain and find our own place?” Kon asked.

“I haven’t thought about that yet, why?”

“We’re getting older—we may outgrow this team soon like Aqualad and Nightwing. We’ve been together for four years so… maybe it’s time.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “But I think for now the youngsters need us.”

“Hmm,” Conner hummed.

“I bet M’gann’s convinced that we’re way more physically involved than we actually are given the amount of times I fall asleep in here,” I mumbled.

Conner chuckled quietly. “Maybe,” he agreed.

OOOOOWHOOP! OOOOOWHOOP! OOOOOWHOOP!

We both sat up and looked at each other. “The town’s in trouble,” we said in unison.

Conner and I flung the covers off and jumped into action. I used my powers to summon my suit from my room and changed into it quickly. Once we were both changed, Conner grabbed me around the waist and flew out of the mountain.

From the air over the town, we could see a pillar of smoke rising over the warehouse district. Kon banked in that direction. Several stories above the ground he let me go, I dropped like a rock, using my powers to catch myself near the burning building. I did a roll anyway out of habit to spare my knees and popped up in an alert stance.

Kon landed heavily next to me, nearly cracking the pavement under him. He took my hand. Together we ran inside the burning building, looking for victims. The younger members of the team would turn up eventually.

Inside, I kept a telekinetic shield around us as best I could to keep the smoke out of our lungs.

A hoard of robots surged out of the ground the moment we ducked through. I yelped and jumped closer to Conner. He held onto me protectively and yanked me to the ground as bullets shot past us.

“Can you hold them?” he asked.

I took a deep breath. “Not for long,” I said.

We felt the mindlink connect our thoughts as M’gann swooped into the warehouse. They’re piloted, her voice said in our minds. I hear thoughts in them.

“Hold them still for as long as you can,” Conner instructed. I nodded. He pulled us both back to our feet. Once I was safely standing, he hovered off the ground, knees bent. “It’s going to be okay, babe.”

I nodded, took a fortifying breath, and turned to the oncoming robots.

Flinging my hands out, I froze the robots in their paths.

“Supes, go!” I shouted. “There are too many for me to hold for too long!” I was already struggling to keep the piloted robots at bay. Kon nodded to me and swooped away, tearing the bots apart without killing the pilots.

My breathing was already labored and we’d barely begun. I was sweating and exhausting myself trying to make the fight easier for the others. Robin leapt over my head with a flip, bo staff at the ready, and threw himself into the fray. A green eagle—Beast Boy—soared after him.

My knees were shaking and I could barely stand. C’mon Starry, Conner encouraged through the mindlink. You can do this. You’re strong enough to stop a bullet dead. You can hold these clowns!

I… I can’t… I can’t keep this up forever, I replied, panting even in my thoughts.

Just a little longer baby. It’s gonna be fine. We’re almost done.

They didn’t look “almost done.”

I… they’re too strong… struggling…

Hang on, Starbeam! Conner’s voice in my thoughts sounded far away…

My knees buckled. I went tumbling down as though in slow motion.

“Whoa there, Stars. It’s okay. I got you. I got you,” a soothing voice said. It didn’t sound like Conner but my mind was worn out from the use of my powers. I was fairly certain my nose was bleeding. It felt like Conner’s strong arms though…

“Conner?” I mumbled.

“Think again, gorgeous,” the voice said, lowering me to the ground.

I peeled my eyes open. They hurt.

Peering over me was a blob of red, black, and brown. I narrowed my eyes, confused and trying to block out the painful light of the fire and smoke. The telekinetic shield I’d been using to keep the smoke out of my eyes and lungs had dropped when I collapsed since I wasn’t strong enough to keep it up.

“Who… who… you?” I tried.

One gloved finger touched my lips. “Shh. You exhausted yourself. I'm going to give you a shot of adrenaline, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

My vision cleared enough to see a shiny red helmet, black top, and brown leather jacket.

Something sharp and painful hit me right in the chest. I coughed.

Before I knew it, the pain was gone—and everything was thrown into sharp relief. The helmet was set in a scowl and the black top was body armor that had a red symbol on it, partially obscured by the leather jacket. It looked a bit like a bat?

I was wide awake and wired within moments, all exhaustion gone. I jumped back to my feet. The newcomer joined me in standing. He was about as tall as Conner and built the same—muscular and powerful. I wasn’t ignorant enough not to notice the guns strapped to his thighs, but chose not to comment on them unless he used them wrongly.

Right at that moment, some bots that slipped through the rest of my team made their way to us. The newcomer’s back pressed against mine. I heard the shwing of knives being drawn from sheaths.

We jumped into the fight at the same time, watching each other’s backs while the rest of my team was distracted by their own foes.

“I know what you’re called,” I said to the newcomer.

“That so?” he asked.

“You’re Red Hood—the rogue that terrorized Gotham and usurped Black Mask,” I said.

He laughed. “At your service, Starbeam,” he said.

Something about the way he fought seemed familiar to me. Like we’d fought together before. But I’d never met Red Hood before—I didn’t think. “What are you helping us for?” I asked.

Red Hood snorted. “Bold of you to assume I'm helping anyone other than you,” he remarked, ducking so I could access a bot and tear the armor off, exposing the pilot.

Red Hood drew one of his guns.

BANG!

The bullet stopped dead two inches from the pilot’s head, spinning in the air, held in place by my powers. I dropped it and grabbed Hood’s gun. “We don’t play by those rules here,” I snapped, yanking it out of his hand.

“I don’t play by anyone else’s rules but mine, sweetheart,” he snarled.

“This is my turf and you’ll play by my rules while you’re here,” I returned. Throwing his gun into the air and holding it there with my powers, I clocked the pilot hard with my elbow and knocked him out.

“Fine,” Hood snarled. “Only because I like you so much.”

I scoffed.

Everything okay, babe? Conner asked.

Fine. We have a third-party. Red Hood. He’s helping for now. He gave me a shot of adrenaline.

S’pose I’ll have to thank him later.

S’pose so, I agreed, yanking the power source out of a robot so it crumbled, pilot still inside. There’d be a manual release to get them out.

Aqualad appeared and helped put the fire out. Beast Boy helped. The rest of us took care of the robots.

Once everything deescalated, the mindlink was dissolved and Red Hood’s arm snatched me. His other one shot a grapple gun at the ceiling. We went shooting through the smoke and climbed out onto the roof of the warehouse.

“What the heck, dude?” I demanded. “I gotta make sure my team is okay!”

“They’ll survive without you for five minutes, princess,” he returned. “But you and I need to talk.”

“That’s not a phrase that’s ever followed by good news,” I said.

He snorted. “Yeah you’re probably right. But we do,” he said.

“Why me?” I asked. “Nightwing is technically the leader—”

“Ah nah. I can’t talk to that idiot. I needed someone reasonable. Someone friendly,” he answered casually.

“I'm not particularly known for being either of those when under this mask,” I pointed out.

Red Hood shrugged. “Yeah but I know you. The real you.”

I took a step away from him. “What? How could you—? I don’t know you!”

I heard a chuckle from under his helmet. Red Hood lifted his hand and pressed something under the jaw of his helmet. I heard it hiss. Something on the back released. He bent down and pulled it off. It slipped off his head. He shook his hair out and straightened up. There was a red eye mask on his face, but that didn’t stop me from recognizing it. I’d seen his face with a mask on before—many times. That one used to be red too.

I gasped. “Jason?!” I hissed.

He chuckled. “Surprised to see me, gorgeous?”

The adrenaline he’d shot into me hadn’t worn off because I could feel my heartbeat in my eyeballs.

“Uh… I feel like surprised would be the understatement of the century. I went to your funeral! I mourned for you—I cried for you! I watched you get put in the ground!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah that would be tough,” Jason said flatly. He glanced down through the skylight at the inside of the building and then back to me. “Is it pathetic that I literally died and came back to life and still hurt to see you with Conner?”

“… What?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. But I accepted that you would never feel the same way about me when I made my way back to the States.” He made a face. “And it’s better to be the only one suffering. I’d rather be put myself through heartache if it means you’re happy. I always wanted you to be happy. That was why I didn’t tell you how I felt until right before I left.”

“Jason…”

“Nah don’t worry Stars. Don’t worry about me. The pain of dying and coming back to life and digging myself out of my own grave hurt worse,” he said. He stepped closer and put his hands on my shoulders. “Just look me in the eye and promise me you’ll be happy with Conner.”

“I promise,” I said automatically. “I promise.”

He kissed my forehead. “Good. See ya around Starbeam.” He let go and ran to the edge of the building, pushing his helmet onto his head.

“Where are you going?” I shouted.

Too late. He jumped off and disappeared.

Nightwing and Conner came through the skylight. “Starbeam?” Nightwing asked.

“Baby?” Conner asked. His hand rested on the small of my back.

“What was that about? Who was that?”

I stared at where Red Hood had jumped. “That was… that was Jason. He... he’s alive,” I said. Nightwing’s jaw dropped. He rushed to the edge to look over the town. I turned to Conner. “He made me promise that I’ll be happy with you.”

He kissed my cheek. “And what did you say?”

“I promised him that I would.” I kissed him on the lips. “I love you, Conner.”

“I love you too.”

The End!

(Epilogue)

#To Be Happy #To Be Happy Summer 2 #Summer 2 #Chapter Summer 2 #Jason Todd #Jason Todd Imagine #Jason Todd FanFiction #Red Hood #Red Hood Imagine #Red Hood FanFiction #Conner Kent #Conner Kent Imagine #Conner Kent FanFiction #Superboy #Superboy Imagine #Superboy FanFiction #Kon-El #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

[littlehollyleaf]

Two times Ed was made to confront the darker parts of himself

So I’ve felt for AGES like there was something of a parallel between the scene with Eddie and Ozzie in Arkham in Reunion and the final scene between Eddie and Izzy in Blood Rush. Like, not in the sense they match exactly as scenarios, but in the sense that they have some curious similarities that highlight both notable comparisons and differences to Eddie’s relationship with both Ozzie and Izzy and Ozzie and Izzy’s attitudes and behaviours towards Ed and… no matter how much I try to forget about or dismiss this, my mind just keeps circling back to it and it’s driving me crazy!

So here I am picking the scenes apart (IN EXCRUCIATING DETAIL) in the hope I can finally stop associating them with each other.

(disclaimer: truth is this comes with a TON of insecurities on my part, because when it comes to the Eddie and Izzy scene I’m ashamed to admit that Izzy’s behaviour didn’t ping as abusive to me until people started pointing it out and I guess I’ve been kinda paranoid ever since that I might overlook abusive behaviour again… so I suppose that made me hypersensitive to Ozzie’s behaviour with Ed in Arkham, and then seeing some things as similar to Izzy’s behaviour made me extra anxious to not dismiss the idea that Ozzie’s behaviour could also be understood as abuse/assault, plus there has been a few metas suggesting just that to compound my anxiety… then there’s the fact I was worried my nygmobblepot bias might blind me to Problematic stuff… plus there’s the way I’ve also always felt that Izzy was unfairly vilified beyond her legit creepy behaviour, so it started to upset me to think that possible similar behaviour by Ozzie was maybe being painted as good, both in itself and for Ed, while Izzy’s behaviour and motives were so universally denounced and people were kinda implied as being dirtywrong if they still enjoyed the scene with her and Ed (which I do fyi, because I think it’s fascinating)… basically, I’ve quietly been a bit of a hysterical mess over this for some time, my apologies to @witchunters in particular for pretty much falling apart on them over chat while they tried their best to fix me, so… let’s hope this helps finally sort me out...)

(if you can’t be arsed with this lengthy nonsense I’ll understand xx)

Compare

Izzy and Ozzie both appear to Ed in ways that make Ed afraid they will 'unleash' a violent side of him that will cause him to hurt someone he (thinks he) loves ie. Isabella herself and Lee.

With Izzy this is via her dressing as Kristen, because Ed has convinced himself there is something about Kristen's face/appearance that unlocks violence in him – “What if there is something about Miss Kringle’s – Kristen’s – ISABELLA’S face – what if there’s something about her face that unlocks this side of me?” (Eddie in Blood Rush).

With Ozzie this is via him calling Ed ‘Riddler,’ because Ed has convinced himself Ozzie has some kind of power over him and that by acknowledging/validating his ‘Riddler self’ Ozzie can unlock not just violence in Ed but a whole different person – “I am held captive all day, my brilliance locked away. This prison must be broken. The key – my name which must be spoken” (Eddie’s ‘Riddler self’ riddle to Ozzie).

ASIDE: Another minor comparison – seems like in both instances these different beliefs are prompted by the darker/repressed/unconscious parts of Ed ie. Hallucination!Kristen is the one who suggests Izzy’s similarities to Kristen will unleash violent impulses in Ed that will lead him to kill her and Hallucination!Riddler is the one who concludes that Ozzie is the one who has the power to ‘free’ Ed’s ‘Riddler self.’ This could suggest that the darker/repressed/unconscious parts of Ed are the parts of him with greater self awareness. If we consider them as manifestations of the parts of him Ed is frightened/unwilling to face and thus is trying to keep himself in denial about that could make sense – they are the ugly truths, or what Ed believes are ‘ugly’ at least, about him given form ie. that he wanted to be and enjoyed being violent with Kristen, and therefore wants to be violent with Izzy and that he loves cares about Ozzie Ozzie’s opinion of him and desperately yearns for his validation.

Contrast

A key difference between the two confrontations is that Izzy arranges hers of her own volition, while Ozzie arranges it in answer to a direct appeal from Ed/part of Ed himself.

HOWEVER –

Compare

When it comes to Ozzie and Izzy’s motivations, both seem to think/believe they are helping Ed face his fear and/or the truth about himself, as well as both having selfish motivations for wanting him to embrace his darker/violent side too.

Izzy tells Oswald that she is “not going to let [Ed] go” (Blood Rush) despite Ed’s choice to break up, because she believes “[she] loves him and he loves [her]” and so they belong together, that he doesn’t really want to break up with her, he is just (wrongly, according to her) afraid he will hurt her if he doesn’t. Then during their confrontation she tells him she is “forcing [him] to face [his] fear” so he can see the truth that he “won’t hurt [her].” Which is a mix of selfish motivations/desires, because she wants Ed to stay with her, and also, arguably, genuine belief that what she is doing is helping to give Ed what he truly wants deep down ie. to stay with her because he loves her.

Ozzie, on discovering Ed’s unconsciously left note, mutters “you’re still in there” (A Beautiful Darkness), followed up by “and you’re gonna help me find a way out of here.” Then during their confrontation he talks about seeing “him” and “the other you” in Ed (Reunion) and that he plans to ‘free’ that side/version of Ed because he has “earned” it and because “[Ozzie needs] him.” Which, again, involves some selfish motivations/desires, because Ozzie wants ‘Riddler’ to help him escape Arkham and, although he doesn’t technically say it (since the letter was technically just a code), there’s a lot of implication that he wants Ed back as a friend (and maybe more??). But there’s also, arguably, genuine belief that Ed’s unconscious acts (the origami riddle, responding to Oswald’s coded message) imply that what Oswald is doing is what Ed truly wants deep down ie. to be ‘Riddler’ again.

Compare

Both Izzy and Ozzie trick/push Ed into visiting them when he has literally claimed he doesn't want to / can’t do it / won’t do it – “I can’t do it – I can’t break up with her – I need you to do it for me” (Eddie to Oz in Blood Rush); [reading Ozzie’s letter] “I want to apologise… can we be friends again… what?! What is he – ? I’m never gonna forgive him!” (Eddie in Reunion)

Contrast

While Izzy's trick catches Ed completely unawares, as he thinks Izzy has invited him over just to talk, Ozzie’s trick only fools a part of Ed, since Ed’s ‘Riddler self’ knew Ozzie would be waiting to confront him/them at Arkham and wanted to be there specifically for the confrontation. In fact, with Ozzie, Ed’s ‘Riddler self’ was not only in on the trick but orchestrated it by sending a message to Ozzie first, so Ed effectively tricks himself into visiting Ozzie.

Compare

In both instances, when Ed recognises the confrontation for what it is ie. an attempt to make him face the part of him he is scared of, he resists.

Contrast

With Izzy he literally tries to run away, while with Ozzie he argues for a bit (“You’re wrong! I am Ed - Edward Nygma, that is it!”), then tries to finish signing the papers that will have him committed to the asylum, but doesn't try to physically escape...

HOWEVER  –

With Ozzie, the way to the door is literally blocked by Ozzie himself, which could be a reason for the difference? But if so why doesn’t Ed try to push past him? Arguably his fear keeps him frozen. Or alternatively, his failure to run like he did from Izzy could suggest he didn’t really want to escape.

OR, considering his conscious reason for coming to Arkham was to protect Lee from himself, was he afraid to run from Ozzie and the asylum for that reason? ie. he feared if he escaped Ozzie his ‘Riddler self’ might still gain control of him and go on to attack Lee.

Ergo, could Ed's act of trying to finish signing commitment papers be comparable to him literally running from Izzy? Both are, perhaps, in their own way, an attempt to escape the confrontation - via leaving Izzy's proximity and via completing something that would allow Arkham staff to lock him up out of Ozzie's reach (or if not out of his reach, at least locked up so that if Ozzie succeeded in unlocking his ‘Riddler self’ he would be safely contained anyway).

Compare

Seeing Ed's attempt to avoid/thwart the confrontation, Izzy and Ozzie both rush over and physically stop him.

Contrast

Izzy is persistent and aggressive in her physical assault of Ed, pushing him back into the room and even slapping him when he continues to protest.

While Ozzie releases Ed after his initial lunge and seems to make a point of trying not to touch him again (though he does kinda brace his hands against Ed’s chest for a moment a bit later in response to Ed grabbing him), instead countering Ed's protests verbally (although he does remain very much within Ed's personal space with Ed pulling away from him in apparent discomfort).

Compare

Both confrontations have a key climax Izzy and Ozzie are building to ie. Izzy putting Ed's hand on her neck, Ozzie calling Ed 'Riddler.' As this climax approaches Ed makes one last verbal protest against it.

Contrast

With Izzy this protest is a breathless repetition of “no no no no no,” while Izzy forcibly places his hand round her neck and Ed holds himself still and I think tense?

With Ozzie this protest has additional phrasing around Ed’s use of ‘no’ that makes the words arguably more ambiguous – “no, please - please don't... no... PLEASE” - accompanied by Ed, without any prompting from Ozzie, fisting both hands into Ozzie's shirt and seemingly holding Ozzie to him (or at least not pushing Ozzie away). Because of this each 'please,' especially the last, can arguably be read as Ed begging Ozzie to continue as opposed to stop.

Compare

With the climax of the confrontation reached ie. Ed with his hand at Izzy's throat and Ed hearing Ozzie call him 'Riddler,' Ed reacts by embracing both Izzy and Ozzie in a wild but intimate fashion, seemingly overwhelmed by some inner emotion (swelling music in both instances arguably suggests this is a triumphant, or at least defining, moment).

Contrast

With Izzy this moment is a kiss. 

With Ozzie it's Ed grabbing Ozzie's face.

Compare

Ed goes on to embrace the darker/violent side he was originally afraid of without causing the hurt he claimed to fear ie. via the implication of him engaging in kinky (violent?) sex with Izzy without hurting/killing her, via him helping Ozzie escape Arkham and take on Sofia without hurting/killing Lee.

Contrast

With Izzy this confrontation of his darker/violent side seems to be presented as curing him of his inner conflict and thus helping make him more balanced maybe?? ie. in the way he returns to Ozzie later all smiles and relaxed (in contrast to the tense anxiety we saw in him before the confrontation) and claiming that “everything is wonderful” and Izzy showed him he was “worried over nothing” (Blood Rush). 

While with Ozzie, the confrontation of his darker/violent side seems to be presented as flipping his inner conflict and leaving him imbalanced still, so that instead of fearing/resisting his darker/violent side, Ed is now resisting his loving/softer side?? ie. in the way he tells Lee that “Ed is gone” (Mandatory Brunch Meeting) and he refuses to say he loves her  (whether you want to argue that he truly does love her or not, the fact he refuses to say it can be taken as evidence he is actively trying to avoid associating himself with the concept of love I think?)

Conclusion?

So… IS Ozzie’s behaviour abusive like Izzy’s? 

I’m still nervous to argue definitively one way or the other, damn it. 

Ambiguous though Eddie’s in the moment protest against Ozzie calling him Riddler is, it is still ostensibly a protest that Ozzie knowingly ignores, meaning Ozzie, like Izzy, does technically force something on Ed seemingly without his consent, and that still niggles at me (does the fact it was just saying a word make it less of a thing? maybe… but idk, couldn’t you also say Izzy was ‘just putting Ed’s hand to her neck’? both things are in themselves innocuous, but held enough emotional/psychological significance to Ed to make them emotionally painful/frightening to contemplate, so…? Idk!).

Buuuut – Ed’s massive psychological split involved in the scenario with Ozzie DOES MAKE A DIFFERENCE I think. Because it does mean that while Ed is outwardly protesting, Ozzie has had what is arguably clear confirmation that actually Ed DOES WANT him to say the name (confirmation that Izzy, on the contrary, did not have). So… is he really acting against Ed’s consent??

Certainly it’s understandable that Ozzie may not have thought so. I think it makes sense that Ozzie would understand the origami plea as being the stronger indicator of Ed’s true desire and thus default to that over any immediate opposition (although that’s not to say I think he wouldn’t overrule any opposition anyways – I’m not saying I think he’s incapable of manipulating Ed into an emotional/psychological state that is preferable to him… that is pretty much what I understand him as doing via killing Izzy after all… just that he wasn’t necessarily trying to that here).

When it comes to the issue of whether Ed himself actually did want/consent to the confrontation with Ozzie though… that’s a little murkier. And I am slightly weary that arguing that ‘Ed wanted it really’ or ‘Ed was asking for it’ risks sounding a bit like victim blaming.

BUT – as witchunters recently reminded me, Ed does have a tendency, via denial of stuff about himself that he doesn’t care to face, of presenting himself as a victim when he isn’t. Such as his insistence that Kristen’s death was a tragic accident that befell him, as opposed to the result of his deliberate (albeit probably not intentionally fatal?) physical abuse of her. So, there is an issue here, perhaps, over whether Ed was really a victim during the confrontation with Ozzie, or if he was just playing up to the idea, because he didn’t want to actively accept his ‘Riddler self’ as a part of him? Like, maybe he wanted to have Ozzie seemingly force his ‘Riddler self’ into existence, because then he could embrace that part of himself while simultaneously not feeling responsible for having done so?

That could be why he responded positively to Izzy’s manhandling and controlling behaviour as well – because part of him craves having someone else take control of him and push him towards unlocking/embracing his darker/violent side, so he doesn't have to be responsible for it?

Then we’ve got the different RESULTS of the two confrontations to consider. Because both end in Ed embracing Ozzie and Izzy seemingly happily and in relief – which could be taken as supporting the whole ‘he wanted it really’ idea not just with Ozzie, but with Izzy too maybe?

Especially since with Izzy the aftermath of the confrontation goes on to appear arguably even more positive for Ed, as he seems to be, again arguably, at peace with himself in the next scene, with his words implying he believes this to be because of Izzy’s actions. While in the aftermath of the confrontation with Ozzie, Ed/Riddler is shown/implied to still be in conflict with himself during his Riddle Factory conversations with Lee…

BUT – since with Izzy there was no indicator prior to the confrontation that Ed desired it, unlike all the ‘Riddler self’ stuff implies with Ozzie, perhaps the most that can really be understood about Ed’s opinion of Izzy’s behaviour is that he came to view what she forced on him as good for him retrospectively. As in, no it was not something he wanted or consented to, but in the end it seemed to make him feel better about himself so he ultimately became happy about it.

Since Ed/Riddler remains conflicted after the confrontation with Ozzie though – does that therefore imply there is part of him that remains unhappy about what Ozzie did?

Considering the different relationships Ed has with both parties that could make sense.

Because while he was scared to hurt her, all of Ed did very much seem to love Izzy (or believed that he did) and regarded that love as a positive thing.

So Ed was perhaps predisposed to see Izzy's behaviour in a positive light. As well as being happy to accept the idea of her taking control of him, with or without his consent, and that her doing so provided him with what he needed. Because maybe he felt, due to his confused ideas about what love is and means, that loving someone means that their words/actions necessarily do and even should have power over you, and that if they truly love you back you need them to use that power on you because it can only be a good thing?? Hence why he seemed so at peace afterwards? Because all of him accepted what had happened as a triumph of his and Izzy’s love for each other? So it wasn’t necessarily that Izzy’s behaviour/actions were good for him and what he wanted/needed, but that he convinced himself they were?

Whereas, even within the same episode as the confrontation, part of Ed was insisting he hated Ozzie, or at least would never forgive him. Plus he’d been shown to have developed a much more complicated attitude towards love as a concept, with his ‘Riddler self’s’ mocking references to it and attempt to kill Lee because he seemed to feel ‘Ed’s’ love for her was holding him/them back, suggesting part of Ed very much regards it as a negative thing now.

So, part of Ed was predisposed to see Ozzie’s behaviour in a negative light, maybe. And was not happy about the idea of Ozzie having power over him (enough that an innocuous word from him ended up having such emotional/psychological significance) and that Ozzie may be able to provide him with what he needs. Because that would suggest their feelings and connection to each other do in fact match his idea of what love is? And would therefore force him to accept/admit that he and Ozzie maybe do, in fact, share a mutual love? Hence why he’s been in conflict since the confrontation? Because his ‘Ed’ side (or ‘edcicle’ as I sometimes call him :p) seems adamant about refusing to believe that Ozzie’s love for him is genuine and very much refuses to believe he might love Ozzie, so that part of Ed is now locked away inside him somewhere trying to convince himself that what happened with Ozzie was not what he wanted/needed and nothing to do with a shared love between them. Meanwhile, his ‘Riddler side’ maybe does recognise that there is love (or at least sexual attraction?) between them and accepts that’s why Ozzie’s validation of him had such power (because I certainly do believe there’s a case to be made that the parts of himself Ed represses into this ‘Riddler side’ include attraction to men and Ozzie specifically) BUT that side of him has gone on to also simultaneously attempt to convince himself to reject that love/attraction, because he considers it a weakness??  Ergo – constant struggle and lack of peace!

(obviously I’m thinking romantic love here, since we’re comparing to Izzy, but the ‘love’ involved on Ed’s side here could theoretically work as platonic love as well).

PFFT.

Damn it Eddie you TANGLED STRINGY BEAN!

So… in a nutshell I guess maybe –

Izzy forced something on Ed that he didn’t want, but Eddie didn’t feel abused because he ended up enjoying parts of it and so convinced himself it was a necessary bit of tough love?

Ozzie gave Ed what part of him wanted, but part of Eddie felt abused because he was busy convincing himself he didn’t want it, and both parts of him are trying to convince themselves love isn’t or shouldn’t be part of the equation?

(solution – Ed clearly needs to have kinky sex with Ozzie, thank you, the end)

#gotham meta #character study: edward #character study:oswald #character study: isabella #eddie x izzy #gotham parallels #I'm sorry I just... I had to vomit this out of me it was keeping me awake at night thinking about it... #I'm such a damn MESS when it comes to this show...

[squisherific]

Worth The Wait

Rating: T

Summary: The war is over. Gray is on his bed, and Juvia is in his bathroom. Will she ever come out? This is a terrible description. Gray x Juvia. Gruvia. 

Read on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12429437/1/Worth-The-Wait

A/N: For Gruvia Week. This isn’t technically based on any prompt, because I’m a rebel, or I should say, because I’ve had this headcanon for a while, and I’m too lazy to try and make it fit a specific prompt, but I guess passion may fit the best, so enjoy lol. ^__^

A couple of weeks had gone by since the great war against Zeref’s army and Acnologia had ended. Things were slowly but surely falling back into place. Magnolia and several of the neighboring towns, which had suffered the greatest damage from the battles fought on their grounds, were being rebuilt stone by stone and brick by brick.

Many of the mage guilds had pitched in with the repairs, including the mages from areas thankfully untouched by the terrors of battle. Gray supposed the hard work was made quite a bit easier by the fact that they were all being treated like heroes by the locals. It was a desperate battle among mages, dragon slayers, demons, demon slayers, and even dragons, but it was the regular townspeople that usually paid the highest prices during times of war. Homes were lost, families separated, towns decimated, and casualties numbered in the thousands. And those elements were just the most visible consequences currently being dealt with. However, the emotional and mental trauma was yet another enemy left behind for those survivors to keep on fighting even when the magical threats had ceased to be.

That was war, and that was what Gray Fullbuster himself had only nearly just survived. In fact, technically, he hadn’t survived at all. He had died. He knew he had, because he had done it to himself. When he had forced that ice blade through his abdomen, the point of the sword feeling adversely hot as it pierced his body, he was sure that those were to be his final moments on Earthland. And yet, here he was two weeks later, his house in mid-repair and expansion, while the source of his survival had currently, and seemingly made camp in his bathroom.

How had he gotten to this point? Well, it was kind of a long story. But, as Gray lay bare-chested on his bed, the lights dimmed in what Gray felt was an inviting way, and his room looking unusually tidy, he certainly had time to mull it all over as he heard another mysterious object clatter to his bathroom floor. He frowned, and sighed and thought.

During the war, he had a few close calls. Enemies tougher beyond any he had previously faced were hell bent on destroying not just him, but everything he held dear in his life. Not being a stranger to loss was an understatement where Gray was concerned. If not for Fairy Tail, loss would be more familiar to him than most any other experience in his life. Yet during the war Fairy Tail, too, was something he almost lost, and it would have been his own fault had it happened.

Gray had done something which he had felt was unforgivable. He had sought to fight and kill one of the most important people in his life, his best friend Natsu. You could argue he hadn’t been in his right mind. You could argue that circumstances made his actions understandable, and perhaps even justified in a way. But Gray knew better. He had acted rashly and wrongly. And he had almost ruined one of the bonds he had held most dear, and he was determined to pay for that grievous error with his life.

Gray felt in that moment, when standing in front of Zeref, and after having heard what Happy had said about Natsu’s life being in jeopardy, that if he could just stop Zeref, no matter the cost to himself, then he could have peace. He didn’t need anything or anyone else at that point. Too much had gone wrong. He had made too many mistakes along the way. He had hurt too many people. And too many people had been hurt for, and because of him. It was his last resort. It was what he had been preparing for. Should the worst happen, he always had Lost Iced Shell.

A lost attribute spell was one of the most difficult and dangerous types of magics one could use, for implementing such a technique usually came with a hefty price. He hadn’t wanted to use it. How many times had he been on the brink of casting Iced Shell in the past, and been saved by others, or stopped in mid-cast when he remembered what it would cost his friends were he to die? No, he didn’t want anyone else to cry over him. But that was the beauty of the Lost attribute. He had found a way to remove that unpleasant side effect when leaving his life behind as ice. This way would be a clean escape. And that was the core problem. It was an escape.

But thankfully, that course of events never came to be, for that precious friend stepped into things once again, and reminded him what it was to be a part of Fairy Tail. They were a family, and running away from life, no matter the reasons behind it, wasn’t the answer. And every day since the war concluded, he had never been more grateful to still be alive.

And yet, the reason Gray had attacked Natsu, the reason he had decimated Zeref’s right-hand man Invel, the reason he had learned lost iced shell, the reason his mind had been so muddled, the reason his heart had been so pained, the reason he had pierced his body with his own ice blade, the reason he had survived it, the reason he was so glad to still be alive, and the reason he was now currently so infuriatingly nervous were all tied up with the same person. And that person had now been in the bathroom for the last half hour.

Had it really been a half hour? Gray checked the clock hanging from his bedroom wall again, and then with a sigh, lay back down on his pillow, hands folded behind his head. Was she sick? Should he check on her? She was carrying an awfully big bag when she had gone in there. Was this normal? He had lived with her for six months, but he never remembered her taking this long to get ready for bed. Then again, it was never his bed she was getting ready for.

Gray didn’t know what to do with himself. Why had he done this? Inviting her to spend the night was a ridiculous idea. Why did he think things would progress naturally? When has anything ever progressed naturally between them? No matter how much he tried to control the direction their relationship went in, she always managed to veer him off course, and tonight seemed no different.

Gray had promised her an answer. That’s how this new section of their life had truly begun. He had broached the subject. He was thinking towards the future. He had wanted to live, and he had wanted it to be with her. He needed it to be with her. But for a short while, which had felt like an agonizing eternity, she had not lived. She had died in his arms. No actions he took, nor any amount of pleading had coaxed her into opening her eyes again. He was convinced that the person he had to protect at all costs, was beyond his reach. He had been too weak again. And he had paid the highest of prices. But she had succeeded where he had failed. She had saved him. Why couldn’t he do the same for her? His emotions that followed that moment, holding her limp body in his arms, were things that still haunted him in his dreams.

He had so many regrets. He felt like he had done so many things wrong. And when he was sure this loss was the one to break him - when he had tossed everything else away in his rage and his grief, she had done the unthinkable yet again, and had come back. She had lived, and his future, that one he wanted so badly to protect, was again back in motion.

Should he tell her he was about to toss that future to the winds again in order to cast lost iced shell? Should she know he was about to erase her memories of him forever, in his clumsy attempt of making amends? Should she know that in that moment as he faced Zeref he had forsaken all plans of giving her that answer, in order to truly save her and all of his other loved ones the way he believed he should have done from the start? Would she be angry? Was she ever really angry with him? He wasn’t sure, not of any of it. But he told her anyway. And she had listened, even when she had already forgiven him for all of it before he had ever uttered a single word. Because that’s how she was. She understood, she always understood.

Another odd noise rang from the bathroom. Was it a hair dryer? Had she taken a shower? Is that why she was taking so long? Forty five minutes as he checked the clock again. He looked to the side of his small bed. Had it always been this small? Could they both even fit on it?

Gray recalled her squeezing in next to him once during those six months when they had lived together. That bed had been really small, too. Yet she had managed to join him in it without him noticing. How long had she had been there before he had woken up to fine her nestled into him like that? That had unnerved him. Not because he had disliked it. No, quite the opposite, and that was the problem,. He was not ready to take the relationship in that direction yet. He still had so many things left to do. But, she had again steered their ship off course, and he needed to right it immediately, or he would be in very dangerous waters indeed. But now, Gray was ready to finally take that next step, and explore the uncharted territory, because the other destinations had already been settled.

When the fighting had ended, and everyone and everything seemed to be taking a much needed intermission, Gray had pulled her aside so he could talk to her privately. That’s when he had confessed to all he had attempted to do, all he had regretted, all he had wished for, and all that he had felt, and especially for her. He didn’t know why he had been so especially scared when telling her things that he not only long since felt, but things that she likely long since knew. Originally, the conversation was supposed to be about him accepting her feelings, but things had now turned into him wanting her to accept his. Was there ever a chance she’d push him away, or deny him that happiness? Of course not. That’s partly why he loved her. But it was a relief that they were no longer just thoughts, feelings or actions, but now also words that she could be sure existed in his heart.

Gray’s mind wandered back to the bed. When she had slipped into his the last time, he knew she just wanted to be near him. She told him as much, and he had believed her. And that was partly what worried him now as the clock neared midnight. Is it possible she misunderstood something about his invitation that evening? Surely not. But she was so unpredictable. Sometimes she seemed miles ahead of him in her desires, and at other times, she seemed naively behind.

The problem was, Gray didn’t quite know where he and Juvia stood at the moment. They were in this weird limbo of a new relationship, but they seemed emotionally so far past that point, that it was unfair to classify it as such. They used to live together, and Gray wanted to live together again. That’s why he was expanding his house. So, there would be room not just for Juvia, but hopefully, for whatever life blessed them with in the future.

They had been spending much more time together since the war ended. Gray had hinted at the reasons for expanding his home. He even had a ring stashed away, waiting for the right moment. And as far as their physical relationship went, kissing had become an incredibly frequent occurrence. They had done a few other things as well, when they could catch some time alone in between rebuilding Magnolia. All those things were wonderful things. Gray wanted more of them. But nothing had really been discussed.

So, when Gray told Juvia to come over that evening, and she offered to bring dinner, Gray had advised her to bring an overnight bag as well, with some essentials, in case she got “tired” and wanted to spend the night.

Juvia had looked confused for a split second, but then Gray thought he saw that look of dawning comprehension hit her. He knew he saw her flush. He knew he was a bit flushed himself. When Juvia came by earlier that night, it didn’t look like she was spending the night, her overpacked baggage was more like she intended to stay the month. Dinner had been hurried and awkward. Gray was nervous, Juvia was doubly so from what he could tell. He had lost count of how many forks she had dropped. Was this really the same girl who had so casually snuck into his bed once before?

And that’s why Gray was worried. This was not the first time Juvia spoke a big game, but when things started actually happening, she became surprisingly oblivious and shy, but endearingly so, too. Because that meant Gray was able to take the lead, and that’s how he liked it. When they had finished dinner, they dawdled some time away chatting while washing and drying the dishes together. And then there was nothing left to do but get ready for bed. They had both had a very long day of working on repairs to the guild, but Gray knew sleep was the last thing on either of their minds. Juvia insisted Gray use the bathroom first, and now, as the clock had long passed midnight, his bladder dearly thanked her for that kindness. He didn’t think he would have lasted until now if not for that.

But he really was getting very fretful. Having all this time to think things through was playing havoc with his emotions. He had assumed Juvia knew what was insinuated by his invitation tonight. But what if he was wrong? What if she finally got out of the bathroom after whatever mysterious ritual she was currently performing, and headed for the couch instead? He would be completely mortified. And if she wasn’t ready for this next step, he didn’t want to force her. Maybe he shouldn’t even be on the bed. Maybe he should take a spot on the floor instead. Why was he jumping to the conclusion that they were going to sleep together? He hadn’t even outright asked her.

This is so frustrating! And what on earth is taking her so long?!

Gray wanted to pull his hair out. He wanted to scream into his pillow. He wanted to pace the room until he wore a hole into the wooden floor. Because he was tired of waiting. Not just tonight, but ever since she had crawled into his bed all those months ago. Ever since she had first moved into his home after Fairy Tail disbanded. Ever since he had cried into her chest and she consoled him on that snowy hill. Ever since she first called him Gray-sama. Ever since he accidentally grabbed something he shouldn’t have on that rainy day when he met her. Because this urge wasn’t born from love, but love had grown to strongly accompany it, which had made the desire so much more unbearable.

Gray heard another clatter of something on his bathroom tiles. He had, had enough of waiting. He sprung from the bed, and hurried towards the door. Without knocking, he found the door surprisingly unlocked. The view that met his eyes was strange in a multitude of ways.

Juvia was bent over in a compromising position made even worse by the fact that she was wearing a very skimpy piece of underwear indeed, with a blue, practically transparent frilly thing draped over it. Her arms were attempting to grab a big pile of other frilly and delicate pieces of lingerie that looked to have fallen from their precarious place on the side of the tub into the tub. There were haircare and makeup products and tools strewn all over his tiny bathroom sink and on the floor along with several magazines, one of which Gray could see was open to a page with the headline, “7 Quick Tips To The Most Beautiful You.”

Quick, huh?, Gray thought ruefully to himself.

Juvia, clearly not having heard Gray open the door, jumped at the sound of his voice as he said her name, and sent the delicate pieces of underwear scattering back into the thankfully dry tub. She swiftly turned around, her eyes wide in dismay. Gray got a look at her front this time, which was not that much more covered than the back. Her breasts were spilling out of her bra, which was also layered with the slinky baby doll, and her hair was meticulously curled. Gray could tell that even her face had been done up with God knew how many layers of makeup judging by the amount of products behind her, but in that odd way where it looked as if she wasn’t wearing much at all. She looked gorgeous, but this is preparation he’d expect for a grand ball, not his house, although, granted, her outfit wasn’t really appropriate for the general public. What was she up to?

“Gray-sama! Did you need to use the bathroom again? Juvia can get these things out of the way,“ she said hurriedly, and she began to bend over again to move her items to make space for him.

“No, I don’t need to use anything,” he said, and before he could ask anything else, Juvia, still looking quite frazzled, began bombarding him with questions.

“Oh good,” she sighed in relief, “well, as long as Gray-sama is here, which does he prefer, this blue,” she said, holding her arms wide so Gray could get a good look at her negligee, “or perhaps this black one,” she said holding another slinky piece of lingerie up in front of her, “or maybe this pink one?” as she pulled yet another piece from the massive pile. “And what about Juvia’s hair? She thought down would be best, but maybe Gray-sama likes it up instead?” and she started collecting her curls into a ponytail and clutching them there tentatively, waiting for his opinions with an anxious expression on her face.  

However, Gray didn’t answer any of her questions, and instead asked one of his own in genuine bemusement, “what are you doing?”

Juvia was already flushed, but she grew even more so at Gray’s query. She looked a bit crestfallen, though Gray didn’t understand why.

“Juvia was just getting ready for bed,” she said, trying to hitch a smile onto her face.

Gray frowned a bit at her. “It’s been over an hour,” he said. It was easy for him to sound sympathetic rather than irritated, because Juvia’s expression looked so defeated. She let her hair fall down around her shoulders again, and put the pink and black pieces of lingerie back on the overflowing pile.

“Juvia…wanted to look desirable for Gray-sama,” she admitted in a small voice and after a long pause. She was avoiding his gaze.

Gray didn’t fully comprehend this line of thinking, and he said as much. “But, you always look desirable,”  he stated bluntly, his brow furrowed. Maybe he should have said something more comforting. She had looked so upset, and she had clearly been trying so hard. But, when Juvia raised her face this time, there was a legitimate smile there now.

“Really, Gray-sama?” she asked hopefully. She looked quite touched.

Gray again didn’t really understand what was going through her head, but he was glad she looked happier. “Well, yeah.”

It seemed like she might cry at that, but Gray was glad when Juvia stood up on tip toe and kissed him instead. He kissed her back, his tongue meeting hers as he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her closer to him. She did feel really good against his bare skin. Her hands had begun to trace the grooves of his back and he knew she could feel that pressure from him against her. This was good. This is what should have been happening an hour ago. But they were still in his bathroom. They needed to move.

He painstakingly broke the kiss enough to breath, “Do you want to come to bed?”

Her forehead against his, and her nose brushing his, she said, “yes, Gray-sama, Juvia would like that very much.”

Gray grinned, and he took her by the hand.

He needn’t have worried that they weren’t on the same page about this matter. As with all the most important things, he and Juvia were two halves of the same whole. As long as it was the two of them, everything would be ok. That night was more than ok, though. It was everything it should have been, and it was worth the wait.

The End

A/N: I told you the description was a terrible one lmao. And now I am officially out of headcanons. Thanks for reading, and I hope it’s not absolutely foolish of me to ask that if you enjoyed this to please review. ^__~

#gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia week #fairy tail

[understanding-agape]

Forget about that Yurio

Translated from Spanish with the permission of the original author: gemini in tauro. (Thanks Sweetie!)

Title: Forget about that Yurio.

Disclaimer: I don’t know the name of the creator (since I’m still not interested a lot in the series), but I do know that Yuri! On Ice does not belong to me.

Comments directed to Princesa Andrmeda: Since your birthday is coming in two months and I have to give you something, I’ll give you something from the fandom that still gives me the oogie, so you can see just how much I appreciate you. I suppose you’ve already guessed where the title came from?

However, your condition for writing my Edward/Herman was that I read a Victurio, and I didn’t want the lemon so… well, here is my solution. I hope you enjoy your early birthday since I won’t give you anything physical because I’m stingy and… bye!

Fair warning: Like around 80% of Victurio fanfiction, this one won’t be “sugar n’ spice n’ everything nice”, and this is actually the first time I have written such sensitive subjects… on full. If necessary, please refresh the browsing window.

Fair warning II: Since I haven’t read anything of these two, nor seen the series, it is somewhat (very) possible I wrote them Out Of Character.

 Forget about that Yurio

 《 The same night whitening the same trees.

We, of that time are no longer the same.》

—Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines; Pablo Neruda .

 Viktor Nikiforov entered tripping into the emergency room. It wasn’t very often he received news that had Yuri and the hospital linked, and so something in his brain balanced it quickly and made him overreact. As fast as the traffic jam had allowed him to arrive the place, taking huge breaths, looking to fill his lungs as he paid the cab driver and enter still running.

“Tell me in which room is he! ” He demanded, in a trembling mix of Japanese and his much accentuated mother tongue. Seeing him enter, with his disheveled hair and the mad look in his eyes, it would’ve made anyone just roll their eyes and pass him by as they deemed him insane. Nonetheless, the reception lady, who so happened to be learning foreign languages and having decided for the one to belonged to a famous person, had managed to understand him, and so she pointed out to him, with the utmost respect possible (Japanese overall), that he would have to wait a couple more hours in the hospital, due to the fact that the operation was yet to be done.

Hence you see him waiting.

What a pity he had wasted three hours of his life.

He hadn’t gone home immediately. Anyone could’ve predicted that.

And whilst he drowned emotions —which were idiotic, really, they took the fun out of everything he did. He could just imagine what he would be able to do had he not have such a huge ego, a slim figure to take care of and a small leftover of dignity… those three tied him up— in the first sake he managed to find —a bar was a couple of blocks away from the hospital, they apparently sold and lived good— he was going over and over again repeating the very same words of the doctor.

He wasn’t dead, no. Yurio was still alive, though unconscious. His mind had skipped all the technical stuff that he had yet to understand —and would probably never understand anyways— from the medical area and went directly to his keywords.

Apparent sleep. Zero activity on the left area of the brain.

Coma.

Not knowing whether his head was spinning from going so many times over those words or from such an enormous intake of alcohol, he passed a hand through his hair, he passed a hand though his hair, and gently tried to comfort himself, saying that he was acting wrongly, that his me from before, that ungrateful brat, would feel embarrassed to see him there, drink in hand, and he sighed.

Arriving to his apartment, he said hi to Makkachin, and Makkachin said hi to him too, eager to see his owner was back already. Viktor greeted him, not cheery in the very least. At seeing his owner’s state, the dog did the same, and tilted his head, confused.

Viktor didn’t think about it for too long, and decided that he would go directly to sleep. In the morning he would have the price of two sake bottles luring over his head, though at this rate it couldn’t feel good.

No, he couldn’t feel. Not even when the Swiss razor —quite an expensive birthday gift, exotic and of good taste… most of the time— had slashed through the flesh in his arm. He was pretty sure the color inside his bathroom would never be this pristine white again.

“Viktor-san… I received the message from Yuri telling me to… Viktor-san!”

And right after Yuuri had seen the disaster that he had made in his bathroom —poor white tiles, he would miss them— he had fallen into blissful nothing, dark and cold, just as he expected to.

Oh, how he would’ve wanted it to last.

He woke up hours later (though it felt like just seconds), with a strong smell of antiseptic, white lights blinding him and the loud beeping noise of the monitor, the one that checked the supposed beating of his heart, that at this very moment only lived with mechanical movements.

He would’ve liked to stay that way longer. The light was too brilliant and reality too dark.

What made him retreat from that peace that he had just found, was a tongue, raspy and full of drool and love. He pretended to be asleep for a few more seconds, even if the dog drool was starting to turn itchy. That had alerted the figure in the couch, who seemed to be glad his idol was still alive.

He would’ve liked for it not to be that way. He was pretty sure he would’ve left Makkachin in pretty competent hands, ain’t that right, Makkachin?

When the doctor, some Asaho Miyamoto —it was always the same thing with these Japanese guys, there was a Yama, there was a Moto, it was oh very obvious they loved hiking and books (there was a reason one of the characters that named the country was that of books)— arrived the room and explained to him that despite the fact that he was still alive, had Yuuri gotten to his apartment a few minutes later, he wouldn’t be there, with all the blood loss and all those technicalities that his brain decided to block yet again, Yuuri was still a newbie in all this, he thought, whilst he saw the guy nodding with energy and responded everything he said. Miyamoto- sensei said he would be let out when they considered he was no longer prone to have another “accident” like the one he just did, which would have to be approved by the psychiatric the hospital had —take a wild guess… he was named Tanaka (he must be one of those weirdoes of rice and swords, he could be sure of it).

He agreed, and the doctor bid him goodnight saying the nurse (whose name started with something… akin to tree) had his dinner. No razor-sharp cutlery, you know, only those plastic, made-for-children ones, really cheap at that too and so horribly big and annoying.

The dish in question was made out of red bean that according to what they said helped to the recovery of the so-called red-cells, but in that moment, sunk into its own juice along with a small dosage of salt and, he was sure, some sugar, gave his body an overwhelming sense of abandonment, that ran through all the arteries, veins and blood vases available in his body, in the same amounts as his blood. Who would’ve said that biology and philosophy were such great friends. Viktor couldn’t be sure, since the inside structure of the body was not really his forte and he failed every single letter in a poem.

Night had arrived, Yuuri said he couldn’t stay with him (compromises with whomever-he-was-with-at-the-moment-and-whose-identity-was-unknown) and said goodbye, sneaking Makkachin out along with him, promising to feed him in the morning. Viktor smiled, pretending that the Japanese had taken a great weight off his shoulders.

When the curfew arrived, Viktor was already into the fifth depth of sleep. Well, something like that. He changed depths. Now the first, now the fifth. Now resting, now staring at the ceiling. He had seen so many flaws within the white concrete that night that he would give a huge list to whoever was in charge of repairing the building.

Hours passed, and all his restlessness had made itself present in the form of insomnia and hyperactivity, he decided opening his eyes. Hardly, he had managed to get his hands over his head (and that would make the IV get out, but who cared anyway?), managing to find a more comfortable position to be in, and he smiled, somewhat void.

After some time of being in that same position, he turned his face to where a shadow was lurking, whom he recognized instantly, his blond hair had no comparison, his gaze a little dry and his skin seemed to glow. After staring a little, he returned his gaze to the ceiling and let out a condescending chuckle; a glas wen invading his face.

“Dear god… I must be losing my head, am I not, Yurotchka?”

The figure on the other side of the room didn’t laugh along with him —and he hadn’t expected it to, it wouldn’t have been his Yuri if he had—, instead turned to stare at him, so quietly that Viktor almost feared it was a hologram placed there by the doctors. To complain, he let out another condescending laugh—ah, how he hated it.

After a few minutes where there only the remnants of Viktor´s (now awkward) laugh could be heard; he decided to clear his throat. “Since I suppose this is a hallucination, might as well use it to my advantage. How have you been in your coma, Yurotchka?”

Yuri didn’t answer. Instead, walked a couple more steps to get closer to him, and Viktor felt that his heart could beat out of his chest at any moment. And not in the sense that he welcomed his closeness, but dreaded it to some extent, though he wasn’t quite sure if he liked that constriction in his chest.

“What makes you think that I am him?” He answered, the words had gotten out so serene from his lips, almost languidly so, that Viktor did not believe it possible that one person have such an aura that professed tranquility in itself, but that at the same time made him sick to the stomach and made him want to get away from him, as he approached the bed. “I’m your guide, Nikiforov Viktor, and there are people who wish harm to fall upon you by their own means.”

The person in the bed’s eyes widened, astonished. Though his unconscious was telling him to get away, that that creature could be one of those, the ones they said, that wished him harm. But neither his legs nor any other part of his body seemed to obey him, instead, he had sat and waited for him to come close.

“Are you” Viktor trailed off, one hand nearing that angelical, almost see-through face that was in front of him, and he became surprised as that same hand passed through his cheek, but, unlike all beliefs there were about ghosts (if he was one, that is), being his hand inside that plasma, he felt a warmth sensation filling him “…real?”

“Regularly, us guides, we adopt the image of someone close to whom we are supposed to protect, so that they will not feel scared upon seeing us.” Yuri did not seemed fazed by the fact that Viktor could go through his cheek. “There are times in which the person does not recognize us, because we protect them since childhood. But in your case… well, you hadn’t really needed protection… until more recent dates… I suppose you remember them, do you not?”

Viktor stopped paying attention to his hand that was between Yuri’s cheek and teeth. He stared at his bed, for a few seconds, embarrassed and nodded. “…of course I do…”

“I said it already and I do not plan on repeating it, Nikiforov Viktor,” Yuri went on again, this time staring at him with a mix of worry and fury. “What you were about to do wasn’t the smartest way to go about it. There are whom desire you, and I am no longer referring to those on the human world; they were dangerously close to achieving it were it not for the help of Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Yuri…”

The blond shook his head. “Nikiforov Viktor, many of my kind believe that you are not deserving of my protection, and after witnessing such attempt you did a few hours ago… I do not believe so either.” How could it be that he was able to be serene and at the same time, contain the fury of the 7 dark princes, contain God’s wrath, His holy punishment… all with only changing the tone those last five words had been spoken in? “I have favors to repay, however, so I find myself deprived from making that decision, and therefore must remain by your side, until the moment your soul has reached the time to part.”

Viktor gave a bursting, condescending laugh, there had been too much condescendence in only one night. “And now what? Are you going to tell me there is a paradise up there? That God waits for me to reach His side, never to leave it?”

“God only exists if you so wish to believe in him.” The figure answered, and even if the tone he was using couldn’t be classified as defensive, the gaze that Yuri was directing to Viktor looked more like a threat than an answer. “Unfortunately, it is not the same deal with demons. It is way easier to see them within people, than seeing those who have light inside them.”

“Way too deep coming from a creature willing to protect me,” he mumbled quietly to himself. “Yuri, listen, I…”

“Forget about that Yuri Plisetsky, Nikiforov Viktor. Forget about him.”

“But…”

“Or at least,” he interrupted again, “forget that I am him.”

Viktor started thinking. If it had been Yuri —his Yuri— by this point surely he would be already yelling, probably the same things (that he would forget about him, that he would not see him again), but he wouldn’t have that creepy aura around him, that seemed to consume everything inside the room, be it good or bad. It wouldn’t be warm touching him, it would be colder than his beloved Russia, his skin would not be shining, or at least not in the supernatural way this Yuri did—though it would also be a supernatural being’s one, thus that one objection did not fit in the frame at all.

“But… why?” His hands were damp, and his cheeks were two tear cascades. He belatedly realized it, the fact that he didn’t want to accept it.

“I was asked to protect you, as a favor to repay, but this is more than enough.”

“You,” he sniffled, he didn’t understand where those tears had come from, maybe a secondary effect of paranormal encounters, “the guides, do you only adopt the figure of… dead people, or could it also be of the quick?”

“If you had not known the answer to that, then you would not be expressing such razliubit.”

Viktor tried to smile, even though his lips had cracked into a grimace that explain all the things the face in front of him couldn’t.

Yuri sighed, and with one of his hand, cupped his cheek. Viktor felt his breathing come to a halt, surprised that he was able to touch him but he couldn’t touch him back, and saw in his eyes an all too familiar glimpse.

“The person who sent me, Nikiforov Viktor, asked me a last favor, something for you to remember them by,” Viktor didn’t understand it pretty well, even after those lips, so forbidden, so angelical, so glorious, softly pressed against his, so mortal and unsavory,

He had barely taken in the situation, the kiss had already ended, Viktor, as if getting out of a daze, had his eyes widened and observed Yuri , who stared back, as if inspecting the reaction of a really unstable experiment. Viktor felt his lips pucker slightly, not enough to be noticeable, but enough to send Yuri the signal that he had understood.

“Tell them that their gift is more than appreciated, to whoever sent you,” he answered, and he thought he had never felt so in peace with himself… with the world, the demons and angels inside him.

He couldn’t remember much of what happened the night after their encounter. He was pretty sure that the light coming from every single millimeter in the room was overwhelming, not like it was a new thing; he could listen to Yuuri coming and going to tell him good morning and to mention that doctor Miyamoto, as well as many of the nurses that had to tend to him because the alarm had activated, apparently his IV had gotten out.

“You know, Viktor-san? If it hadn’t been for Yuri’s message I wouldn’t have made it in time.” Viktor stopped pretending he was fine and started at Yuuri, confused. “Speaking of, how has he been lately?”

Viktor didn’t have the opportunity to answer, Miyamoto-sensei entered the room and said good morning, asked him if he had problems sleeping at night and if he needed everything.

“I just need one thing,” the doctor nodded and awaited for the order to come, “if I’m not mistaken, this is the same hospital where Yuri is, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, Mr. Nikiforov, though I suppose a visit to patient Plisetsky would not be the most adequate thing in your state and what we are striving in this institution is…”

“I’m not talking about that, Miyamoto-sensei.”

“Huh?” Yuuri frowned his brow, unknowledgeable in regards of the situation. “Hospitalized? What do you mean?”

“Then, Mr. Nikiforov? What is it that your want?” Inquired the man.

“He’s suffering, and it pains me to see him in such state, I plead you to unplug him.” Yuuri stared incredulous, but dared not say a thing. The doctor looked curious, and then nodded.

“We received a call from his parents at dawn. We already had their permission but were not sure if you wished to know.”

The months flew by, and Viktor had learned to live with the spontaneous apparitions of Yuri . There were times where months could go on without a single trace, and others where on full weeks he was woken up by him in the middle of the night, daily, to find him to a small distance to him, saying he did that to make others know he was protecting him. And even though Viktor couldn’t see them (he did not have some super sense that let him know it) he believed him, because he was his guide. And that’s what guides were for, right?

It had been four months since the last time he had seen him. He touched his hair a little nervous, it was a little below the shoulders, even if he had tied it in a ponytail. He sighed, and in it he could appreciate the low temperature in the weather. Oh, how he had missed his beloved Russia.

Since he had arrived from Japan a week ago, upon arriving he had breathed in and had said so beautifully in his accentuated language I’m finally home.

After a couple of minutes of observing the establishment he decided to enter.

Despite everything that he had expected, it was warmer on the inside than the outside, and even if it came as a surprise, he couldn’t help but smile thankful.

He had no idea how much time had passed, with his skates echoing in the stadium, so big like his conscience and so void like his chest; but there was a moment, when he was able to see him again. After some long four months, he saw him again. Smiling like someone who just saw an old and longed friend, he saw him from the other side of the court and made him some gestures that he was coming over. In a matter of seconds —bless acceleration and gravity, things that he did understand— he was leaning on the railing.

“It’s good to see you again,” the other one nodded, and got close to him, so Viktor would no longer have to yell.

“There has not been anyone out there lately with plans to take you, so there was really no necessity for me to handle the situation,” he said, as if that explained completely his four-month absence. Viktor didn’t say anything to it, it was true that he hadn’t been assigned to him originally, so he could only thank that he was there, now. “As of now, there is only someone here that wishes something from you.”

“Are you kidding? And what would they want from me?” He imagined demons, those out of French or American videogames, great horns, half-goat half-human, grotesquely disfigured and arms so little they might as well be T-rex’s.

“They are on the other side of the stadium,” he declared, self-assured it was this way. “Though I can assure you they are no threat to you.”

“Do you think they will make themselves visible to me?” Viktor asked, with a feigned smirk. Yuri (like he had started calling him again at some point) didn’t imitate the gesture, but only nodded.

“If you wish to see them, you will take my hand and will be capable of it.”

Not having much to lose, he grabbed the offered hand and immediately saw him disappearing. He arched an eyebrow, confused, not knowing at the beginning what was happening. It was gratifying, months later, to know he hadn’t lost him forever, nor that they had fused together. For a moment, confusion was the only thing his brow had no qualms of showing.

As the guide had indicated, he observed the other side, where he supposed was whomever it was. His eyes widened in clear shock, though his gaze turned into a softer one quickly, sweetness, reminiscence and a melancholy he didn’t know he possessed.

Dressed in a white suit —a variation of the one he had worn at Agape — and hair so beautifully styled, was Yuri. And if it hadn’t been for the sound of the skates he would’ve though he was an angel, since from his suit wings were born and he was floating mere millimeters above the ice.

Tchaikovsky could be heard faintly, even if only Viktor’s ears were capable of relating such music —so tragic, so emotional, so beautiful— with such movements —calculated, graceful, divine— the blond was making. There were times where music could never be as emotive like the way it was played was capable of being. In this case, Tchaikovsky playing the last song of a swan, as beautiful as it was, could never match what Viktor saw Yuri was capable of showing, what he was capable of expressing. Tchaikovsky tried to imitate a swan, whereas Yuri had managed to turn into one.

And so, as the music neared its end, Viktor could see the figure of his dear kitten become see-through, and little by little, disappear; on such a point where, with his arms placed in position number five and his legs on position number four, Viktor could only be sure of having seen him one second… one… second, that he wished to transform into eternity.

“ ... До свидания… дорогая… ” he murmured, to the nothingness that had replaced the spot once belonging to Yuri in his heart.

He did nothing to avoid the sensation, it was calming and soothing, it was a realization, that even if you didn’t see it, it did not mean it wasn’t there. That even if you couldn’t touch it, it wasn’t only a product of your imagination when he could once touch his cheeks, and strived to confess. That just because it didn’t hurt him anymore, it didn’t mean he had stopped missing him, loving him.

Because he did —and he felt extremely cheesy for it.

  《Years will trickle by. We will engage eternally in battle. We will never be together. We will die, again and again, longing for an impossible end.

But as I’ve said, you should know by now: I will never give up》

—Eternally Never Yours; EchoEternal .

  Translations and/or clarifications:

(1) Glas wen : s. (from Wellish) Literally, “blue smile.” A smirk.

(2) Razliubit : v. (from Russian) “Falling out of love.”

(3) До свидания… дорогая: “Goodbye… my beloved.”

(4)Music Yuri was skating to: Suite from Swan lake.

Ending notes: thanks for reading until here, as I have already said up there, I'm not really fond of this fandom. It seemed too… um, false to me. Even though so, to Daniela it didn’t. That's why I’d like if you would (and I plead you to) respect the work. You can criticize my plots, my character management, my word management, but not the pairing. Just like you have one, Princess has one, and I would like that just as she makes the effort to respect yours, for you to respect hers; I apologize beforehand if spilling the soup like that, without having prior (direct) contact with the other participants in the fandom, was a little harsh.

If you liked it, I'm very glad you did, I hope to have the gall again to get into this small hole, maybe even staying.

Bye!

—gem—

#yuri plisetsky #viktor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #vikturio #victurio #translation #russian weekend #victurio weekend #yoi #yuri!!! on ice

[cianmarsfanfiction]

Emma Swan de-aged fic

Set in a season 4A AU/ end of 3B. The time portal has some adverse reactions on Emma after she managed to get home to her family. Now that Emma has finally accepted her parents entirely how will both she and her parents deal when Emma gets turned into a 5 year old?

Fanfiction [X] AO3 [X]

Emma looked around her room which was now mostly free from the mess which had been littered around since before her brother was born. Although she and Henry had technically moved back into the loft once Henry had regained his memories it was only now, that she had come back from the past, that she was unpacking the stuff they had brought with them: after all, up until the day before, she hadn't been planning on sticking around.

She fell onto the bed and pulled her laptop over to her and opened up her email account so she could finish emailing someone who was sending her and Henry's stuff to Storybrooke, there wasn't much she needed, mainly just personal things. Content of when they would arrive Emma shut the laptop, before she had completely infuriated Regina by bringing Robin's ex-wife back to life and the present Regina had told her how to have things sent so that they were sent into the town, it was the same way the town got many of its supplies.

Emma massaged her sinuses as she thought about the whole situation with Regina, she winced as pain shot through her face, she had been feeling ill since she had been in the Enchanted Forest however she was sure it was just a side effect from Back to the Future-ing it. She would be fine.

But this situation with Regina, that she really needed to fix, so she dragged herself off of her bed and walked around the wall to Henry's side of the room and grabbed one of his jackets. He had gone with Regina from Neal's naming ceremony the previous night, Emma had tried to follow Regina too but had been stopped by Mary Margret and David, who had insisted that it was best that she left Regina alone for a little while.

She grabbed her boots and headed down the stairs.

David heard Emma's footsteps on the steps, as he sat with Neal in his arms on the couch, Neal had fallen asleep but David couldn't quite bring himself to put him down, not quite yet. He looked over to his daughter and expected to see her finally accepting that she was ill, he had only just stopped Mary Margret from dragging Emma to the doctors when she had heard the first cough that morning, they both had to wrestle with their newly heightened parental urges and not pushing Emma too far after she had finally fully accepted them as her family.

"You finished unpacking?" He asked her with a smile, but inside he was trying not to freak out that she seemed to have grown paler in the past couple of hours, he had to hope that it was just the lighting.

"Yeah," she placed Henry's jacket on the table as she sat down and pulled her boots on, "I just have some things being sent here from New York, and then I'll be officially back." She absentmindedly scratched at the skin on her arm which had been itchy all day.

"I'm glad you're back," he stood up slowly and carefully placed Neal in the Moses-basket and covered him with a blanket, "we all are, especially your little brother."

"He tell you that, did he?" Emma laughed.

"Yeah, I speak baby, didn't you know?" He walked over to the kitchen table and saw that she was getting ready to go somewhere. "Where are you going?" he asked hesitantly part of him didn't want to hear her answer.

Emma sighed. "Henry forgot his jacket."

"Em."

"I need to sort this out." She continued to scratch her arm.

"No, Emma." David said firmly he noted her almost shocked look at his tone. "Look, kiddo, please just trust your mom and me: Regina needs space, just give it to her, and before you know it she'll be back to normal." He watched Mary Margret walk into the kitchen from their room where she had been napping he sent her a smile which was only part relief at having someone there to back him up.

"But it's my fault-" Emma tried to tell her father but she was suddenly interrupted by her mother who she hadn't even noticed.

"-No, Emma, it's not your fault. You met someone who was going to be killed and you saved them, it was the right thing to do, and it was the exact thing that we would have expected you to do." Mary Margret walked around so she could see Emma's face. "Emma, are you feeling okay?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm fine." She dropped Henry's jacket back onto the table but she continued to move to the door.

"Em-"

"I'm not going to talk to Regina." She told them in a frustrated voice as she continued to move to the door. "I just need some fresh air." She forced herself not to slam the door, purely on Neal's account, she needed to sort everything out with Regina however she was sure that her parents will somehow manage to stop her: knowing them they'd have Leroy or someone keeping an eye out. She could have kicked herself when she realised that she had left without her jacket, it was way too cold to be out in a t-shirt, but there was no way she was going to go back in there it would be way too awkward.

David stood open mouthed as he stared at the door. Had they pushed her too far? Rationally he knew that she was just frustrated at the situation, and wrongly frustrated at herself, but another part of him worried that they had messed up straight after they had made everything good. "Should we- Are we going to go after her? No, wait, you should stay here with the baby and I'll go after her-"

"-David, no." Mary Margret placed her hand on her arm to stop him from going anywhere. "She's not going to Regina's."

"How to you know?"

"I can just tell, she wasn't lying, she just needs to take a few moments to clear her head." Despite her words she also looked fretfully at the door. "We'll give her an hour then if she's not back we'll go out and find her."

"Make it forty-five minutes," he told her, "I don't like how ill she's starting to look."

"Maybe she's just tired from her trip to the past." Mary Margret said hopefully, but neither parent had taken their eyes from the door, just yet. "She'll probably just sit in her car for a while."

*OUAT*

True to her word, Emma didn't go to Regina's, but nor had she picked up the keys to her car.

She walked around the town, as she did so she started to feel sicker and sicker, she practically had to fight to keep her eyes open. She hadn't been sick before she had gone, or if she had she hadn't noticed it, it was most likely due to the time travel.

Which left her with rather limited options: Regina was out as she currently hated her, Blue who would probably call her parents but she wanted to figure out what was going on with her first and she didn't want to worry them, so that left her with her last choice - Gold.

She needed to find out if she was ill from travelling, but the more she thought about it the more the memories of the past worried her, she pushed her fears of some Enchanted Forest plague from her mind but she decided to continue to walk to Gold's shop; she wanted to make sure they could handle another portal to the past should one arise, and anything which might come out of it.

*OUAT*

The forty-five minutes ticked by slowly for Mary Margret and David, they were only distracted by Neal waking up and demanding to be fed, but while that happened, David continued to pace the floor.

The clock struck six and Emma wasn't home yet.

"I'm going to look for her." David announced, he stood up and started to make his way to the door, ready to grab his jacket and pull on his shoes.

"I'm coming too." Mary Margret was already dressing Neal in his snowsuit when David looked back at her.

"Mary-"

"-David. This is the second time in twenty-four hours my daughter has gone missing but this time I am not just going to sit around and wait."

David knew that it was pointless to argue with her plus he saw where she was coming from. He nodded and passed her over her jacket while she placed Neal, who was wide awake but quiet, into his car seat. Mary Margret grabbed the keys to her station wagon and the three Charmings left the loft.

*OUAT*

Gold's shop was locked when Emma got there, but she could see a light in the back so she knew that the Dark One was there, she didn't bother to knock on the door as she was sure it would be redundant, she may have forgotten to take her car keys with her when she left the loft but she had remembered her lock picking equipment.

The bell rang when she entered the shop, as she moved towards the back of the shop she held her hands out to steady herself as she fought vertigo.

"We're closed." Gold's voice shouted through the shop, but Emma continued to walk to the back.

"Rumple." Belle scolded when she saw Emma. "Emma, are you okay? You look ill."

"What do you want Miss Swan?" Gold looked bored. "You heroes may have forgotten but I am not at your beck and call like some performing monkey."

"I need your help." Emma started to stumble but managed to stop herself despite that Belle walked over to her with a worried look on her face. "I need to know what you know about portals to the past."

"I already told you that nobody knows anything about those." He would have kicked her out already had Belle not been there.

"But you can make some assumptions." Emma guessed.

"Anyone with half a brain can make assumptions." He sighed, so much for a quiet evening in with his new wife. "You're clearly ill and I'm guessing you got ill when you were back in time to the Enchanted Forest, you clearly caught something from there. Now, I am clearly not a doctor or one of those insufferable nuns, nor one of your parents, I suggest you go bother one of them to get you well and leave me and-"

"-I'm fine." Emma interrupted. "It's just a cold and that's not what I'm here for. I want to know what you know about time portals in case one gets opened again, I barely got back here at all, if one opens again I need to be able understand it."

"Emma, are you sure? You really don't look well." Belle worried. "Do you want me to ring your parents, you really look like you should be at home."

"I'm fine, Belle." But as she spoke she lifted her hand to cover her eyes as nausea and dizziness flooded her body. She suddenly felt as though she was on fire. Perhaps she wasn't as well as she had claimed. She felt a tingling in her fingers which slowly spread.

Gold and Belle covered their eyes as a blinding light filled the room, the light came from Emma, but it wasn't the usual light which was associated with Emma's magic. There was something about this magic which was different.

*OUAT*

David and Mary Margret continued to drive around the town, the longer they drove the more their anxiety grew, but they couldn't even catch a glimpse of their daughter. They had checked at the station, Granny's, they'd asked everyone they had come across, they had even checked in with Doc and Doctor Whale in the hope that Emma had realised that she was sick and had gone to one of them.

"David, I'm getting really worried. Where is she?" Mary Margret glanced back at the backseat to make sure that Neal was still fine, he of course was, he had drifted off to sleep a short while ago.

"I'm not sure, Mary Margret," he kept his eyes on the road as he spoke to her he squinted through the darkness looking for Emma, "but we will find her."

Mary Margret opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the ringing of her cell phone, her hands shot forward to pluck it from where it was laying on the dashboard of the station wagon. Her face changed from hope to disappointment when she saw it was Belle calling her, not Emma.

"Belle, is everything okay?"

David could hear Belle's voice over the phone. "Mary Margret, you and David need to get to Gold's, it's Emma."

"It's Emma? Belle is she okay?"

"She's… she's safe, it's a bit hard to explain over the phone, but she's okay."

Mary Margret shared a look with David to see if he had heard the conversation, judging from nod he gave her and the worried and confused look he had on his face, he had. "We'll be there in five minutes."

*OUAT*

Belle pressed the red phone icon on her cell and placed it down on the counter. She walked back over to where Emma was sat glaring at Gold.

"What the hell happened?" Emma demanded.

Gold rolled his eyes, he had already explained what he presumed had happened twice, he didn't see how stating what had happened a third time would help. He took in the child who sat before him. "Well, Miss Swan, I thought your present situation would be abundantly clear to you: the time portal must have had some adverse effects on you."

"I'VE TURNED INTO A BLOODY FIVE YEAR OLD." Emma shouted at the man. "Turn me back."

"I've already told you that I can't."

The look on Emma's face made it clear that she didn't believe him, but Belle could tell that despite her husband's track record, he was telling the truth. "Rumple, why don't you go check in the back to see if there's any clothes that would better fit Emma." She shot him a pointed look, and he left the room in search of something which he could just as easily magic up, Belle walked over and crouched beside Emma. "I just got off the phone with your parents, they're on their way, they'll probably be here any minute."

Emma's scowl changed into a look of worry. "Do they know what happened?"

Belle shook her head. "No, I thought it would be easier to explain to them when they got here."

Emma didn't want them to see her like this, bar the first few minutes of her life, they had only known her as an adult; a strong, independent, and, admittedly, a pretty kickass adult. But what was her other option? Stay in the store with Gold and Belle until Gold would change her back? And that was if he was lying about not being able to change her back, if not what would she have to turn herself back? Would she be able to?

#Charming Family #the charmings #charming family fic #charming family fanfic #deaged emma #deaged emma swan #ouat #ouat fanfic #charming family ff #de aged emma #de aged emma swan #fanfic #fanfiction #snowing #the charming family #procharming family

[pb16486-blog]

Is crossing the bridge feasible?

Can neuroscience give us answers? It can give us some, but not many and not final. Neuroscience, a baby among other sciences, has a bulk to offer, but it’s still in its infancy. So, let’s all repeat after good ol’ Marcus Aurelius: “Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth”. But the problem is, we love final answers, almost as much as we love simple solutions. Wouldn’t it be nice to get a ready-made recipe to keep at bay angry teenagers during a science lesson? What if someone told you, you should look in the brain, where all the answers lie? Tempted, I would certainly look. So do other teachers: when asked if neuroscience should be applied in their school practice, chorally answered – “yes, please”.

However, this question appears easier than it really is, even though it potentially sounds like common sense. Because, when it comes to actual practice, there seem to be much too many misconceptions somehow difficult to root out fro our biased heads. The seed has been implanted though, so let’s investigate some reasons for our tendency to love neuroscience, and why we use it wrong.

The alluring aura of neuroscientific evidence (evidence)

There was an experiment, in which pieces of information were given to assess by two groups of people: experts and non-experts. Both groups were then asked to state their satisfaction with given explanations. The trick was, that some of them were interwoven with completely irrelevant neuroscience. And guess what? The public loved it! They preferred even the very rubbish information when peppered with some juicy neuro-facts.

Maybe it’s because of the abstract level? Maybe we fear our intelligence to be ridiculed when faced with stuff we don’t comprehend? Maybe it all comes to our tragically low self-esteem? Think about the quantum physics. Only a handful of people really understand, what’s going on there. Would you dare to argue with any of them? And even further: would you dare to ask specific, technical questions?

Teachers may feel intimidated, because of the social pressure put upon them, the over-generalisation, the very traditional assumption that “teachers teach, hence they know”. As a teacher, I should know about my students’ brains. But I don’t, so let me pretend I do. And even more: I’ll scream I do, so no one dares to check me on it. So I scream, loudly and firmly. Sometimes pressing fiercely too many buttons at once, only to sneakily cover up my vast incompetence. And you’d better go to check on these collar buttons of yours, would ya, and brain your gym to make your electric circuits flow.

The biases, we all intrinsically (intrinsically) suffer from

Those millions and billions of biases that intrude the clarity of our thinking, are usually hidden, and usually, we deny to admit they exist. For example, a common one, the cognitive dissonance, when we hold two conflicting ideas, and in order to get back to the homeostatic state of balanced mind, we unconsciously dismiss one, just because. I smoke, but I know I shouldn’t because of cancer. But I really like smoking, so I’ll dismiss the second part of the previous sentence, vigorously convincing myself (even though wrongly), others get cancer, not me. And that’ll let me smoke in peace, not having to confront the conflicted mind.

The curse of knowledge is another one. When it’s difficult for us to understand the understanding level of other people. There is no coming back from the place where we know much ourselves. Hence, we have trouble with understanding how people who know less than we do, misunderstand what we already know. Say, I know what “dopamine pathway” is, so I assume people in general know as much as I know about it because it’s hard for me to see dopamine pathway now with limited understanding and empathise with them. Their shoes don’t fit me to wear back again. Neuroscientists can’t see what educators don’t see, and here where the language issues come to play, creating havoc and semantic chaos.

And finally, my personal favourite, the self-fulfilling prophecy (or placebo effect). If I believe something is to happen, it’ll happen, because I unconsciously do all the small things that eventually lead to it, basically just to prove my initial point. Neuroscience is sexy and I want to include it in my educational practice. I found this amazing idea online the other day, about the collar buttons that make me more clever when massaged regularly. I’ll practice this, and because I want it to work, because that’d mean I’m smart and I’m using sexy science, I’ll make it work by convincing myself it works. See, I’m already more clever! We like to be right, and we like to know.

Our natural thirst for the final answers

If feels safe. It feels right because our brains are “the meaning-making machines”. And we need answers to build our narratives. To make sense of the world, we need a stable set of facts that we feel comfortable enough with – no matter if they’re scientific considerations or our personal beliefs. We just need anything to get by, as the uncertainty makes us existentially anxious. Don’t get me wrong, I can see how claiming this, I am the very person doing exactly that, that’s a never-ending trap of an inquiring mind, isn’t it? I claim we need the explanation, the final truth, “the really real” – and by saying that, I am stating the very mine, personal explanation. Basing my life and reality onto this generalisation, I am also proving my point. Shooting myself in the ankle, but that’s okay, because as a post-modernist, I accept contradictions. And another one. Thank you Philosophy, you’ve always been helpful to make my mind nice and clear.

We want neuroscience to be a part of education as it has a potential for a positive change in our approach to teaching and learning, and to all there is to wonder about in the classroom. However, at the moment, there is much too many gaps, misconceptions and myths we believe to be true, only because it’s convenient or easier, or because we’re not informed enough, or because we simply don’t know (yet). Some neuroscientists have even made a declaration about it, officially agreeing that: “neuroscientific research, at this stage in its development, does not offer scientific guidelines for policy, practice, or parenting”. And then, further comments in the editorial article of the Santiago conference in 2007, during which the paper has been signed, stated that: “brain research was not ready to relate neuronal processes to classroom outcomes”.

What is the problem with teaching? Is it lacking the scientific basis? Would the simple answer – “yes, it does” – not be narrowing down the whole picture? Maybe we should give teachers some more credit and respect their intelligence. We witness the times when brain and mind become one, where to understand one, we inevitably need the other. Neurons would be nothing if they didn’t make you move your arm, neuroscience would be an empty concept (stop the blasphemy, Paulina!) without its empirical consequences in the behaviour. Neuroscientists could learn about the behaviour as much as teachers about the brains. I believe this beautiful and potentially fruitful exchange will eventually happen, and let me add it to my wishful thinking list.

But frankly, do we really want to know more? Do teachers really want to be effective? All this complaining about being overworked, too much marking, reflecting in the popular memes on Twitter and Facebook teachers going mental, their hatred for students and the job in general, make me wonder. Perhaps that’s why teachers only do what they’re told, without really being informed about the reasons. We often idealistically cry out for a revolution in the educational system, but maybe it’s nothing but another bias, another comfortable shortcut. Because what we really need, is to provide our teachers with the training they deserve, and responsibility they’re able to take on. Teachers are not being given the credibility to do their work properly. Can you perform successfully without a thorough understanding of why you’re doing what you’re doing? Teachers should stop being treated like puppets and instead be included in the scientific debate. Being both, theorists and practitioners could contribute hugely in the neuro-educational field.

#neuromyths #education #cognition #philosophy