#the name just sounded funny so we r sticking wit it

[thatloserkade]

I'll get back to requests soon (they are flooding me), but I wanted to share maybe a silly au idea,, BeetleJax>:)

They are mostly scribbles, but it's still just a silly lil idea:3

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #the amazing digital circus #tadc pomni #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha #tadc #tadc jax #tadc beetlejax #the name just sounded funny so we r sticking wit it #implied buttonblossom

[spiderwing-nightman]

I finally watched The Defenders

So I've been trying to get through the defenders shows for a bit and I finally watched the entirety of The Defenders (the crossover show) and I was writing my reactions and some of these are pretty funny so im gonna put them here (a lot of them are about matt because he's easy to make fun of and a lot fo the Danny ones are bullying him because he's Danny)

Ok but the real question is: who’s stronger, jess or Luke?

I forget what an idiot season 2 matt is because im used to how much of a mess season 3 matt is

Yknow what this is exactly the shit Jess would get involved in, I’m honestly the most confused about how Luke gets involved

Oh my god Matthew, has a 10 minute conversation w Karen and IMMEDIATELY has to go to confessional

"forgive me father for I have sinned it's been 3 days since my last confession" MATtHEW

Did I know Elektra was coming back? Yes. Was I still like oh my god Elektra when she did? Also yes

Matty you cannot fight crime in your lawyer suit

It has been zero days since Matty’s last incident

Lmao foggy staging an intervention

Matt should under NO circumstances be jess’ lawyer, they would become friends and be HORRIBLE influences to each other, like the amount of chaos that duo would cause, we had better pray for New York

NO ONE is having Danny’s bs

Matt and Jessica r menaces to society

Jessica could’ve definitely made it as an actress

Matt is literally the only one who wears a costume, he’s so dramatic

Can’t believe it took them 3 episodes to meet

Matthew  (I should provide context but saying his name in a judgmental way always applies)

Its time like these that I remember Charlie Cox is British

So far this show has been everyone going “who the fuck are you and how do you know these things” at Matt and Matt just going “don’t worry about it, I just do”

Alexandra should have an accent

“The iron fist and his allies” Danny is their least important/useful member

“Scarf looked better, nice ears” “they’re horns” Jessica really destroyed him in 5 words

Go cry about it Danny

Jessica and Matt r a great duo, meanwhile Luke is having none of Danny 

Jessica googled matt lmao, Jessica and Matt r also best friends

Goddammit stick

Awww Danny still cares about Luke, how nice (honestly I love Danny and Lukes dynamic just a little)

“oUr SoLe FoCuS iS tO lOcAtE tHe SuBsTaNcE”

“His name is Mathew, and my name is Elektra Nachios and you work for me now” *cuts her head off* “any questions?” oh mYGOD

Lmao love the opening scene of episode 7 w the entire team passed out and stick dead with the great music playing in the background

God I love misty

Oh my god matt in an nypd tee shirt, he would have a heart attack if he knew

Matt is really going through it isn’t he (just constantly but in this show in particular he’s going through it a lot more than like everyone else)

“Matt you need to take a breath, you sound insane” when doesn’t he

“ATTORNEY CLIENT PRIVILEGE” OH MY GOD “a witness? What you want me to describe how the scene sounded” I can’t he is SUCH

“There is no plan” “I can tell” Lmao 

Jessica just keeps destroying them all

Foggy thank you for being the only person with any common sense here

Misty needs to stop taking cases that will make or break her career 

These dumb idiots left ALL of their wallets?? Come on

I have never seen a subway THAT empty

Karen, matt does not go a single place he doesn’t want to

“Whatever this thing is, when it’s done, I tHiNk We’Ll GeT mAtT bAcK” yeah okay foggy (this is so funny when you’ve seen season 3 of daredevil)

“Wait a minute where’s the chic with the sword” misty never gets a break

LMAO MATT IN THE SUIT NEXT TO JESS AND LUKE IN NORMAL CLOTHES IS THE FUNNIEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN “There it is again”

This is such a trip, I looked away for two minutes and the next thing I know theres fire

“Lets go do something crazy” Luke that is exactly what you’ve been doing this entire time

“IF what Jessica says is true” Trish? Do you honestly think it isn’t?

“I’m glad you’re here” “…..what” “yknow under the circumstances im glad I found you” “im not hugging you” Lmao the dynamic between matt, Jessica, and Luke is brilliant

“I don’t want to fight you….. alone” *daredevil swings in* oh my god 10/10 this was so funny 

Mathew, I know you love her, but now is not the time

Omg Jessica also learned how to play nice

Of course matty had to go and have a building fall on him cause he was kissing a girl 

Foggy you cannot ACTUALLY believe matt is dead, you literally saw aliens come from the sky

#Matthew murdock #daredevil #Jessica jones #Danny rand #Luke cage #the defenders

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers With an MC That’s Only Soft for Them

So, cute Headcanons are my kryptonite! Please enjoy, my fluff loving brethren!

Lucifer

We at Stupid Headcanons inc. recommend that MC does not inflate this bastard’s ego further, but if they choose to…

Lucifer, the morning star, a high ranking demon, does not need MC’s affection… that was a lie he C R A V E S it.

This pairing is actually quite complimentary, Lucifer is only soft for MC, MC is only soft for Lucifer, perfectly balanced.

MC shouldn’t expect Lucifer to be too reciprocal to their affections in public until they’re both neck deep into the relationship, but in private, hoo boy.

The “good job!”s, the hugs, the quick pecks on the cheek, all of it just made Lucifer practically melt. He adores all the affection, and it’s all for him.

Finally, someone in this house appreciates him…

“Lucifer, try not to overwork yourself, if you need anything, just ask, okay?” “Thank you, MC.” “Hey MC! I need help, pass me the remote.” “YOU CAN WALK OFF A CLIFF BELPHIE! Love you, Lucifer.”

And to be honest, some of the roasts are funny, but MC, dearest, please dial down the sass near Lord Diavolo.

Mammon

Of course MC’s favourite is the Great Mammon! Heh, who else would it be? Not that he needs this human’s affection or anything!

…screw it, please MC, give him more head pats.

Hand holding, hugs, resting his head on MC’s lap… Mammon’s really living the life.

In public Mammon is constantly trying to get MC to shower him in praise and affection in his own weird tsundere kind of way. It’s good thing MC is always willing to give their demon all the love they have.

It just makes him so happy that all of MC’s affection belongs to him, it makes his greedy little heart sing.

MC’s love and care tragically does not save him from being caught for his shenanigans, but MC, stone cold bitch that they are, will always do something bad to get strung up next to him.

“MC, what’re ya doin’ here?” “Oh you know babe, just hanging around.”

Nothing makes him smile more than when they stick up for him, to MC, he isn’t scummy trash, he’s the great Mammon! Their super amazing guardian! He does what he can to live up to MC’s image of him!

Since Mammon’s super supportive of his human, he’ll always provide reaction sound affects whenever MC delivers a verbal smack down.

Levi

MC likes him? Must be a joke. Who’d like a gross Otaku like him…?

The human exchange student apparently.

They’d listen with a look of pure adoration on their face whenever Levi would ramble about his favourite anime, they’d help him organize his figurines, they’d play video games with him…

Man… MC’s really playing the long con here on this practical joke.

When Levi isn’t drowning in self doubt, he absolutely loves how sweet and gentle MC is around him, a side only he gets to see… *swoon*

A cold mean character that’s only soft for their love interest??? That’s one of Levi’s top five favourite romantic tropes!

Levi’s often taking notes on MC’s snappy remarks so he can sass people while he streams, he’s not too good at it, so he just streams with MC present. His viewership goes up whenever exponentially whenever MC says anything.

“Someone in the chat just said I must be insanely lonely-” “There’s no way in hell you’re lonelier than that guy at night. His bed ranks number one in the top ten loneliest places ever.”

Satan

At first, Satan took more of an analytical interest in MC’s attitude, they’re either suicidally impulsive or very confident in their ability to run from danger if they think they can sass demons and get away unscathed.

Once the two connect and MC goes soft for him, it’s game over. Satan’s weakness is cute things, and nothing is cuter to him than his usually mean MC raining affection and compliments down upon him!

Satan finally has a leg up on Lucifer! The human adores him and isn’t afraid to talk back to that pretentious motherfucker-

MC sits in Satan’s lap and the two read together, they smuggle cats into the house, they lay in bed together plotting the downfall of their enemies… just normal couple things.

Sometimes MC just sits next to him and makes a particularly nasty quip at someone else, then give him a big ol kiss on the cheek.

It just makes him oh so happy…

“Honey, I brought you tea!” “Ah, thank you MC.” “I took it from Lucifer’s private stash of relaxing tea :D” “You really are my soulmate, aren’t you?”

Asmo

Gasp! MC’s so mean! Do it more!

Asmo, sassy god he is, appreciates a good snide remark or twelve, so he’s always got a front row seat to MC’s shennaniganery.

Before the pact, he was back in the peanut gallery with Satan wondering when MC’s words would come back to bite them, but after the pact, nothing’s touching the human. Their sass is completely consequence-less as long as Asmo’s around!

These two are a match made in hell, literally. Asmo and MC get to be so in sync that they manage to make each other’s insults better by working together.

“I’d give you the name of a few surgery places but I don’t think they implant brains into unlucky people like yourself.” “They might be able to implant a better personality though~.”

Asmo’s fully willing to flaunt his relationship in public. Sort of in a “look at us! MC’s only nice to me! Eat shit losers!” kind of way.

It isn’t all vanity and insults, MC always finds a way to make Asmo feel better whenever he’s feeling down. MC makes sure to tell Asmo as often as possible that they love him for more than just his looks, and it makes the Avatar of Lust swoon.

Just as long as MC never turns their razor sharp wit on Asmo, he’s their cheerleader forever.

Beel

Good choice, MC.

Despite his resting bitch face, Beel’s a big softie, everyone knows that, and as the Simpsons said, ‘the strong must protect the sweet’.

Well… MC isn’t as strong as Beel, but they will verbally eviscerate anyone who even dares insinuate anything not nice about their precious gigantic cinnamon roll!

“Listen up bitches! Not you Beel, we’re all glad you’re here.” “^_^” “Y’ALL ARE IN DEEP SHIT.”

Beel loves how affectionate MC is! Doesn’t matter if it’s in public or private, he and MC are almost always at least holding hands.

MC always has emergency snacks on them, they never get upset when Beel eats everything in the house, they just smile and hand over whatever food they have on them and help fix the problem.

Beel is probably one of the only characters who would try and get MC to branch out and be nicer to everyone and not just him. Whether this works depends on MC.

Belphie

Does he deserve this? No. Did he almost start crying when MC began to show him genuine care and affection? Yes. Does he nearly die of laughter every time MC snaps at someone? Yes.

Belphie’s not sure why MC decided that they were going to love him of all demons… but they just… understand him.

They listened patiently and offered a shoulder to cry on, even after he hurt them… their understanding, their compassion, just wow. Belphie really lucked out.

MC lets him nap, fluffs his pillows, reminds him to wash his pillow cases and comforter, gets him sushi, like geez… what a simp… *sniffle*

In return, Belphie offers cuddles. Cuddles and quality time together. For the first time in how many millennia Belphie is going to get off his ass and do something for someone if they ask.

It’s a miracle.

Belphie isn’t one for flaunting a relationship but… he may just let some people know that this super mean human likes him the most by giving his human a quick kiss.

#Obey me #Obey me! #Obey me shall we date #Obey me Headcanons #Obey me! Headcanons #obey me! shall we date? #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Levi #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer x MC #Obey me Mammon x MC #Obey me Levi x MC #Obey me Satan x MC #Obey me Asmo x MC #Obey me Beelzebub x MC #Obey me Belphegor x MC #pokémon

[professional-bts-simp]

Broken

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of your boyfriend’s betrayal.

Genre: Angst

Warning: Possibly sad

Part 2 of 3

Other parts: part 1

A/N: The angst ending of ‘Saying Goodbye’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't know what felt worse, the way Jungkook ripped your heart out or how your best friend wasn't answering his phone. You suppose Jungkook ripping your heart out broke you, but Taehyung not answering finished you off. You thought he'd at least care enough for you after witnessing for himself what your now ex boyfriend said and did.

You couldn't stop the tears rolling or the pathetic, loud wails escaping you every time you took a breath. You leaned against your sofa, moving from kneeling to sitting on the floor. Pulling your knees to your chest you buried your head in them, body shaking with cries. You have no idea how long you sat there, maybe a few minutes, maybe a free hours. You grabbed your phone calling Taehyung one more time, hoping you'd have better luck yet to no avail.

You got up from your sitting spot stumbling a little at the dizziness you felt in your head. Forcing yourself to walk to your bedroom you close the door behind you, walking up to your bed you remove the blanket before getting in, covering your body and crying yourself to sleep.

The next day wasn't any better for you. You tried getting up from bed which proved to be an impossible task, but somehow you formed energy to force your body to get up, walking to the bathroom to do your routine. Walking back to your bed like a zombie you flop down on it, burying your head in the pillows. A ding caught your attention and you took your phone, seeing a text from Tae that filled you with a little bit of hope.

[Tae👌🤤]: Eat

A one word text. You almost scoffed at it, knowing that you both used to send essay long texts to each other, but you were kind of glad he at least sent you something, it felt like he wasn't ignoring you as much as you convinced yourself he was.

Eating turned out to be a complete bust. You weren't even able to finish your sandwich, it making you feel nausea and your stomach to hurt. Leaving the half eaten sandwich on the table you sluggishly walk back to the bedroom, wanting nothing more but to be suffocated among your pillows and blankets falling back into slumber.

Sleeping was another thing that seemed to avoid you, waking up every hour or so, unable to sleep from overthinking and the dreams, or more nightmares, you had. You finally decided to stay up after waking up for the third time, your phone saying it was four in the morning. You tried watching some of your favourite YouTube videos but they did nothing to lift your spirit or your mood, you only watched the screen with a stoic expression.

You put your phone down, getting your earphones and putting on the saddest songs you could find on YouTube, laying on your back staring at the ceiling for a few hours crying and feeling the tears roll down your cheeks to your neck. The sound of your phone going off distracted you from your self deprecating, wincing the moment you heard Jungkook's voice sing, having Euphoria as your ringtone. You pick up your phone seeing Taehyung's name across the screen. You reluctantly answer, heart rate speeding up immediately, hearing Tae's voice at the other end and how it sounded so small and frightened.

"Hey (y/n), how are you?"

You scoff loudly into the phone wiping the tears with the sleeve of the hoodie you've been wearing for the past two days, Jungkook's hoodie might you add. You don't know why there is an awkwardness when he speaks, you usually fell easy into a conversation, feeling comfortable with each other. You suppose dating then getting dumped by one of his members would cause awkwardness between you.

"Not good Taehyung. My whole world is crashing down," you play with the sleeve of the hoodie, nerves high, "could you maybe come over?" You hate how nervous you feel asking Taehyung to come over, but you just couldn't be alone anymore.

He was quiet for several seconds before he spoke again, "I don't think that's a good idea (y/n)." You couldn't describe the wrenching gut feeling you had, but you were sure it wasn't a good one.

"Wh-why not?"

Taehyung took a shaky breath, almost as if he were scared to tell you what's next, "The company doesn't think we should see each other for a while." And suddenly you understood why he was scared to tell you.

A new batch of tears welled up in your eyes, falling faster and faster down your already wet face. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, you lost your boyfriend and now you're going to lose your best friend. This had to be the worst week of your life. Taking a deep breath you steady your phone in your hands, determined not to let Taehyung slip past your fingers like Jungkook did.

"No."

There was a short silence on his end before he spoke again, "What do you mean 'no'? (y/n) this isn't something to debate over."

"I'm not letting you leave me. I can't handle that too." Your voice was a ghost of a whisper but Tae heard it, he heard it loud and clear and hated himself he had to put you through this, alone.

He was quiet once more on the other end and for a second there you thought he might reconsider, might convince the company to at least see you once a week or something, anything. You heard a door open and close and muffled voices on the other end, but then you heard a voice you could distinctly recognise anywhere, "Hyung get off the phone we have practice soon and you know Hobi hyung will kill us if we're late."

Jungkook.

"Who are you talking to anyway?"

"I'm really sorry, cupcake, I hope you can forgive me." Was the last thing Taehyung said to you before he hurriedly ended the call. You threw your phone against the wall, shattering it, how dare he use the nickname you loved more than anything? The old childhood nickname he affectionately gave you was now being run through mud in your mind. You felt angry, you felt sad, but most of all you felt betrayed. You had no one by your side anymore. How were you ever going to get through this?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Looking down at your phone you laughed at the new message that you got. Damn was he always this funny or did you never noticed it? Picking your coffee from the table you press it against your lips, swallowing the sweet taste of your beverage.

"(y/n)? Is that you?"

You almost choke on your drink at his voice. You look up from your phone, the tall figure standing in front of your table, a cup of what you can presume is a very sweet vanilla latte knowing he almost always got that at cafes.  You hadn't seen him in about a year, maybe a few months past a year and he still looked the same. Still devilishly handsome.

"Oh my God, Jungkook hi!" You smile up at him greeting him enthusiastically. Oddly you feel okay seeing him, there's a slight pang in your chest but nothing like it was before. He seemed a little thrown off at your greeting yet you decided to brush it off.

"Um how have you been?" He clears his throat, trying to sound normal and relaxed.

"Oh I've been good, great actually, been working hard and got a promotion at work." You hear your phone ding again and look down quickly, letting out a chuckle at another text. Looking back up at Jungkook you quickly saw a dash of confusion on his face before it was replaced by curiosity.

He looked down at your phone before looking back up to your face, "That's awesome, so um, what are you doing here? I mean at the cafe." He pointed a finger at the ground to indicate what he meant. You laughed slightly at that, Jungkook was always a dork. "I actually have a date today so I went here to wait for him." You nodded a few times, licking your lips then smacking them together.

Jungkook followed your action of head nods, his tongue sticking out against his cheek.

"Also I'm sorry to hear what happened with you and Jisoo." You offered him a comforting smile.

He stiffed a little, but kept his composure. "It's alright, these things happen." He looked down at his cup, far more interested in looking at it than looking at you.

"You have your date here?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he would even ask you that, "Ah no, actually we're going to the movies," there was a doorbell chime, "and here he is now." You grabbed your purse from the other chair, waving your date over and standing up with your own cup in hand.

"R-RapMon hyung?"

"Jungkook hello. Didn't expect to see you here." Namjoon glanced from him to you, offering you that dimpled smile that gave you all sorts of butterflies. You linked your arm under his, moving closer into his touch while Jungkook still looked puzzled.

"When did this happen?" He swallowed hard, almost as the words physically hurt him to say.

Namjoon and you chuckled at the shared memory, "Well we met in a cafe much like this, half a year after you two…." Namjoon stopped, knowing it was a sore subject, for both of you probably. You started filling in after him, "And after that we just got to talking and hanging out and we clicked." You look up at the taller man, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek lightly, not noticing how Jungkook's face twisted into one of sorrow and pain.

You both excused yourselves, wanting to get to the theater as fast as possible to get good seats. When you and Namjoon left the cafe, Jungkook still stood there, looking at the glass door with a broken expression on his face and a broken heart. Now he understood how you felt a year ago.

Broken.

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #x reader #jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungguk #bts #bts x reader #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #bta fanfiction #jungkook angst #bts angst #angst #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon #rm #rm x reader #saying goodbye #broken

[kittymsmithwritesstuff]

One Shot: Candlelight Gods (Miragehound)

I do commissions (link)

One Shot prompt from @witterprompts

My AO3 (link)

Words: 1817

Summary: Elliott follows Bloodhound to a waterlogged cabin full of dancing candlelight in the middle of the night, because he’s stupid and in love, not that he’s told them the second part. 

Tags: first dates, mutual pining, friends to lovers (just add a visit from the old gods), candles, canon non-binary character, bloodhound headcannons, fluff, humor

---

“Do I want to know why you have all these candles and why it's so... creepy in here? No? Yeah, probably not."

Their laugh was half lost to the wind coming between the cracks in the boards, long waterlogged and bowing away. The candles flickered so Bloodhound seemed like an old zoetrope animation, jumpy and disjointed but still so fascinating. He almost asked them if they had a zoetrope, it seemed like they would, but was stopped by the low howl leaking through the walls. “Do not worry, Elliott,” they said, pulling out a lighter and setting it to a small stick of incense in a dish hanging from the corner. “They will not come here.”

“What are t-they, again?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. The night was cold for Solace, somewhere in the sixties. Bloodhound, in their full regalia, was unphased.

“Spirits of wind and fire,” they held the lighter, aflame, near the glass of their lenses. He could almost see their eyes behind the black. “Of cold and death. Long do they ride together, till Odin’s last breath.”

“Did you just pull that out of your ass or is that like, from those poetic eddas you told me about?”

They turned toward him. He could definitely see their eyes, not the color but the shape, the crinkling around the corners as a giggle he would have once called un-Hound-like, before he learned how like them it would be to laugh at any and all things, bubbled up through their respirator. “Completely out my ass.”

He smiled, despite the chill and creepy candles and ancient howling death creatures. “It was good.”

“Thank you. It was true, as well. Wolves and ravens both belong to Odin.” They sat on the floor, cross legged, and Elliott dropped before them. The toes of their boots and his sneakers touched. “I find the howls soothing.”

“You’re weird,” he said, and they giggled again. He leaned forward, face in hands, elbows to knees. “Sitting in a rotting swamp house with a bunch of candles telling me death doggie howls are soothing. And burning sage.”

“Keeps the bad spirits away. Usually.”

“I-I’m not sure if I should be more worried that there’s bad spirits around, or that you said usually.”

“Yes.” In his mind, they winked as they said it. “May I remind you that I did not force you to come with me.”

“You didn’t.” He’d come to creepy swamp land with them willingly, because he was dumb and in love. He wasn’t sure if the whole love thing was mutual, he’d never brought it up, and it’d been three months of I-guess-were-friends-now so he’d sort of resigned himself to never growing the balls needed to ask. Renee had called him chicken so many times but somehow they just ended up taking platonic walks in the park. He liked their company either way so, he guessed, he would live.

Maybe.

If the death doggies didn’t get him first, since they were chilling outside, staring at him through the cracks. His voice was strained. “Hoooound?”

They put a hand on his quickly, fingerless gloves letting him feel some warmth of their skin. It was a decent distraction. “Don’t fret, vinur. They are only curious.”

They were staring right at him. At the both of them. Just two. He was tense, but he leaned toward the split between the boards, watching streaks of moonlight come through the trees. The wolves seemed to glow, though there wasn’t enough light for that. Bloodhound put a hand on his arm to warn him before leaning in, face close to his. Their breathing was quiet. They both leaned, watching the wolves, and saw two birds-ravens, Elliott realized, descend from the trees and perch between the ears of the dogs. Bloodhound gasped slightly, leaning in further, Elliott doing the same until they were shoulder to shoulder.

“This is why I brought you here,” they whispered, voice a husk through the filters. “I did not know if it would happen, but Allfather has truly blessed us.”

He, well, he didn’t know what was going on. The wolves were still freaky. They seemed…hungry. The ravens didn’t instill so much worry, but he felt like they knew way more about him than he wanted them to. “Are those, uh…okay are those deadass Geri and Freki?”

They turned their head to him. He became suddenly aware how close they were. “You remembered their names!”

“Heh, of course.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking out at the wolves again. Geri, Freki. Both meaning “the ravenous” or “greedy one”. Words so old the definite meaning had been lost even to Bloodhound. Huginn and Muninn, Thought and Memory, they were, too, speculation, non definitive meanings to names wrought in stone. When he looked out, he wasn’t sure if he believed any of what Bloodhound was saying, or that it was happening, but he’d always been a little spiritual. “They’re beautiful.”

“War often is,” they said, leaning into the wall. They watched the moonlight shimmer through leaves, like speckles on a puppy’s nose. Candle flames dancing, jerking upward and falling back like storm waves. The warmth he felt wasn’t from the coat, and certainly not from the candles, but the air-between them. The warmth of friends, he thought, ignoring that tug at the corner of his psyche that insisted on more. The wolves did not stare much longer and moved, together, side by side, around the saturated earth. The ravens vanished into night. “To rest before their flight around Midgard,” Bloodhound stated.

“Epic.” He said. The wolves were not alone, a few others joining. They all appeared normal. Maybe the original two were, after all, and there was just something funny in that sage Bloth had burned.

There was a pause, and then Bloodhound moved, sitting cross legged again, further from him than they’d been all night. “Elliott.”

“Bloodhound?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at them. Their fingers fidgeted with their gloves before pulling them off, revealing all their hands, a peppering of white scars that mostly looked to be caused by a certain temperamental corvid. Before he could say anything, they suddenly lifted off their headdress and the cap beneath. They placed them to the side, and he knew they were watching him. Their hair was put up somehow, but once they released it it cascaded out in curls and ringlets. A glint of moonlight said it was burgundy red, and there were braids interwoven in the mass, tucked behind their ears to keep the hair from their face. His mouth felt dry, and he swallowed.

“I feel I can trust you,” they said, voice soft, that even tone they used when teaching the new Legends. He remembered how gentle they were when he joined. “I have told you things and you have not repeated them to a soul. Small things, really, but it still means…a lot that you have kept the knowledge to yourself.”

“R-right,” he pressed his thumb nails to his palms. “I make it a rule to not be a dick.”

“More than can be said for many.”

“You’re too kind.”

“I give credit where it is due-but, but anyway I…” they sighed, “this outing was for more than one reason. More than what we witnessed it…is because I wish to…reveal, myself, um, to you.” They gestured at their face, pausing mid-wrist swing. “Um. Oh, Gods, that sounded a lot less awkward in my head.”

He was too stunned to react, and then he was on his knees, in front of them, disbelieving but eager. “That didn’t sound awkward at all.”

“You’re a liar, vinur. But,” they laughed nervously-Bloodhound, nervous! “I appreciate it.” They took a deep breath and bowed their head. First the goggles, then the respirator. When they looked up at him, with their real eyes, biting their real lips, their skin tanned by Solace sun and dusted in freckles, he couldn’t stop himself from gasping.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said immediately.

They smiled, moon cutting their lips into sharp shapes of blue light, and half ducked their head. He caught glimpses of faint scars, and of far starker ones, across their nose, down from one side of their lip, old, white lines of pain turned cracks of beauty. Their voice was so soft. “You are a flatterer, Elliott.”

He sputtered, “nuh uh!”

“What, so I’m not gorgeous?”

He panicked. “No you’re absolutely gorgeous, and stunning and amazing and cute and-and-and,” he stopped, realizing they were looking at him, head propped on a hand casually, though the candlelight shown the blush rampaging over their whole face. They were biting their lip. Elliott felt his whole mind explode. “You did that on purpose.”

They held out their thumb and forefinger, half inch apart. “Just a little.”

He huffed, shoving their shoulder, and they laughed. “You can be an ass, you know.”

“A cute ass?”

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

“You’ll find, Elliott,” they turned so they were on their knees, slowly pushing themself closer to him, so he could see the glint off their blue eye, realizing one was brown, “that I am as good a fisher as I am a hunter.”

He swallowed; voice low, scratchy. “T-that so?”

“It is.” They fidgeted before sliding their warm palms over his. “Would you believe me if…I said the same things about you?”

“I-I’d have a hard time, just, just ‘cause, ‘cause, y’know, ‘cause…” Cause that means you like me too and I might explode.

“Well, have I ever lied to you?”

“No, you’re a shitty liar even with the mask on.” He gasped and covered his mouth. They laughed.

“You are not wrong, vinur. Why do you think I wear it?”

“Wait, is that why?”

“One of a few reasons. Does get in the way of some things.”

“Like what?” He’d asked it as a genuine question, and in response Bloodhound got closer, close enough he could feel their breath on his chin.

“Close your eyes and you’ll find out.”

He’d never closed his eyes faster. The tip of their fingers touched his chin, gliding to the side of his cheek. Their lips were close-so close he could practically feel them, almost-they were right there-

They moved suddenly and kissed his cheek.

His eyes popped open and he looked at them. They started giggling, covering their mouth like that would hide it. He crossed his arms and pouted. “You tease.”

“I never kiss on the first date,” they said, standing.

“This was a date?” He asked, accepting their helping hand with a dumb look on his face.

“Wasn’t it?” They said, hand going limp, ready to slip from his, except he wouldn’t let it. He held their hand tightly, a grin forming in tandem with an idea in his head.

He pulled them closer, leaning in-not quite kissing distance, but their noses almost brushed. “Well you don’t kiss on the first date…but I always kiss on the second.”

They tilted their head, eyes half lidded, lips turned up in mirth. “I’m counting on it.”

--

Notes: Vinur - friend.

#fluff #humor #bloodhound #bloodhound apex legends #mirage #elliott witt #mirage apex legends #apex fanfic #apex legends fanfiction #first dates #mutual pining #friends to lovers #candles #canon non binary character #bloodhound headcannon

[fe-husband-heaven]

AHHHHHHHHH HELL YEA 3H BOYS. I’m so in love with Felix, honestly he makes me emotional 🥺. Okay so,,, how about a drabble of him and his fem s/o in which he’s jealous of Sylvain flirting with her all the time and Felix shows her she’s his? 👀 can be pre-timeskip or post-timeskip, whichever you prefer! Thank you in advance!

Hnnnn I love Felix so much too, what a sword dork mwuah!

__________________________________________________________________________________

"What does that fool think he's doing?"

Ingrid turned away from her lunch to look at what had the prickly swordsman hissing, laying her eyes on the resident town flirt, she immediately felt a headache arising-

"Now, doesn't a nice hot meal in town with me sound great?"

A laugh from you rang out, you couldn't help it. Leaning against the dining hall wall with your arms crossed, you huffed up at Sylvain, who was currently hovering over you with an arm extended to cage you in one spot while he made a show in the seething Felix's field of vision.

"You're rather brazen today, huh Gautier? Are you sure its a good idea to be prodding the bear?"

Sylvain winked before leaning down to purr in your ear,

"It's what I'm best at."

Sylvain was having way too much fun. Felix never e v e r caught feelings and now, he's head over heels for his sparring partner turned friend turned lover? Oh this was too good not to have fun with.

You pressed a hand to Sylvain's chest to push him back lightly, you weren't going to become collateral damage for one of his pranks.

"Yeah, well, that bear knows how to wield a sword so you might want to-"

You were cut off by the loud sound of Sylvain's arm being slapped down, with enough force that Sylvain nearly fell face first into the wall behind you before he managed to stabilize himself and hold his arm in pain.

"Ow?! A little much don't you think Felix?!"

You stood amused at a clearly annoyed Felix who had made his appearance, seemingly having had enough of the display. Sylvain really shouldn't play with fire.

"Get your lance."

"Huh?"

"I said. Get your lance. If you like to run your legs as much as you run your mouth, you might just survive my blade. "

"Ahaha...Now now Felix, don't you think beating your friends into the ground is a mean and excessive thing to do?"

With his hands up in defeat, Sylvain began getting nervous. He'd teased Felix countless times before, pranks on his easily irritable friend were a normality in their friendship and while, as children Felix would chase him with a stick afterwards, a grown Felix with a sword would likely not end with a little bruising as it did when they were younger.

Sylvain thought he'd known his friend quite well but it seems he might have underestimated Felix's feelings for you..just a little. Felix had always been a little territorial of things he considered his, namely his sword, but the icy look he was currently receiving let Sylvain know that you were beyond off limits, prank or not.

"Right, Ingrid?"

Hoping for an ally, Sylvain turned to the blonde chivalrous woman who had walked up following Felix's abrupt rise from his seat in the Dining Hall,

"Actually, Sylvain, I might just join him in it."

Ingrid's stern tone was not lost on him so he turned to look at you, and for a second Sylvain thought he heard something akin to a growl come from Felix.

There was an unspoken "Help" in his eyes, and you shook your head at his antics before reaching out to grab Felix's hand.

"Now now Felix, it's in the nature of our local Gautier to go skirt chasing as he pleases, you know that. So don't go wasting your sword skills on him, yeah? Let's just go~"

You tugged gently at his hand and when he turned to you with a glare, you just smiled at him, your grin growing bigger when you saw him soften.

"Fine.", he relented, side eyeing Sylvain who shot him a grin.

You were a little surprised to see it was so easy but happy nonetheless.

"We'll see you two later, c'mon, let's go Felix."

Felix allowed himself to be dragged away but not before looking back at Sylvain with a glower and mouthing a "Watch your back, half-wit." accompanied by pointing at his own eyes and jabbing them in Sylvain's direction.

As you two exited the dining hall, you thought you heard another smack, probably Ingrid slapping Sylvain upside the head-

________________

Plopping yourself on his bed, you let yourself smile at Felix's behavior in the dining hall. Rolling over to face the ceiling of his room, you glanced over to see him watching you expectantly with his hands on his hips, foot tapping the floor impatiently. He liked the sight of you on his bed more than he should.

You took a moment to think of what to say, as per usual, he didn't like to initiate a conversation that wasn't started off with "Hey, dog."

After a couple more seconds of silence, you settled on needling him a little. With a small smirk peeking on the edge of your lips, you broke the silence,

"I didn't know you were so..possessive~"

He scoffed at you and crossed his arms,

"Don't be ridiculous. It has nothing to do with you...I just don't like seeing the mutt slobbering over anyone, it's annoying when I'm trying to eat. That's all."

You giggled at his explanation. It's so like him to try to deny he was feeling jealous, but you weren't going to push him to admit it.

"Is that so?"

Staring at the ceiling, your mind wandered. Felix was the bane of all things romance. He never entertained the attention of anyone else because he considered them interruptions. For someone like him to come to like you..well, you must have being doing something right.

You were sure of his feelings for you, he doesn't play around and he doesn't waste more time with others than he needs...but how sure is he of your feelings..?

"Hey, Felix..?"

"What."

"You know that Sylvain was just teasing you..right?"

He scoffed,

"Of course I do. I've known that mutt for years, it's no surprise to me. Don't worry, it's not going to make it hurt any less for him later."

You smiled at that, he put on that front but his friendship with Sylvain was as strong as steel. It also reminded you of before the two of you were involved. He was always pretending that you were nothing more or less than a training partner.

Always keeping you at arm's and sword distance, but immediately getting cross when you took so much as a risk. You remember the long lecture he gave you when you got a scratch from an enemy lance.

Your opponents weren't the only ones Felix had a problem with, apparently, pathogens were also on his reasons-to-berate-you list. You had only been sick for a couple days but he made it a point to be there everyday and nag that,

"If you can't handle a couple of germs, how are you supposed survive battle? I can't believe you got yourself sick, if you die from something as small as this, I'll kill you."

Looking back, he was a lot more obvious than he probably hoped he was, it didn't help that anytime another man got you alone, Felix would magically appear needing to hone his swordsmanship with a worthy adversary.

"-what are you daydreaming about now?"

"Ah nothing, I just...Felix..you know I only want you, right?"

Half expecting him to be a little flustered, you were a little surprised when he folded his arms and didn't miss a beat,

"Obviously. I refuse to put up with anyone half assed. If I thought you weren't going to become Y/N Fraldarius, I wouldn't have bothered."

Not being mentally prepared nor expecting something like that from him, you blinked owlishly, lips parting in surprise.

It seemed to be a slip of the tongue if Felix's eyes widening were an indication. Immediately, he sputtered out some sort of attempt to backtrack. Clearly, mortified to have said something so sappy.

"Wait! No-I don't mean-ugh..."

He gave up and pinched the bridge of his nose, he never spoke with a filter but if there was ever a time for it to show up, it was then. His cheeks felt like they were burning and he hated it, he'd rather take on an army than deal with having said that in your presence.

You bit your lip as Felix hid his red face in his hand, the tips of his ears were tinged the same color his face was. Trying to hold back from laughing failed miserably as giggle after giggle escaped past your lips.

Felix watched you incredulously, before furrowing his brows and clambering onto you, caging you between his arms. Momentarily halting your laughter but your face started to strain with the smile you had on.

"What do you think is so funny?"

You grinned up at him, he was embarrassed, and when he's embarrassed, he goes on the attack.

"Nothing! Nothing! It just made me happy, I think I love you a little too much, I couldn't hold it in~"

Felix sometimes hated how honest you were. It was never like his honesty, blunt, brutal, crass. You were just open, sincere, and candid. He was never prepared for any of it.

He sighed and shook his head,

"..Why'd you have to go and say that?"

Slowly, he leaned down, lips dangerously close to your neck.

"Is something wrong with it?"

A hand trailed gently under your shirt, you shuddered,

"Yeah...now we can't return to the dining hall."

____________

"Are those-"

"No."

"But they look like-"

"No."

"..are you su-"

"Sylvain."

"Alright! Alright! I get it, I'll drop it."

"Thank you."

"...ButTheyLookLikeHickeys-"

"Sylvain! Ugh, you know this is all your fault you know!"

Near snapping your spoon in half, dinner time hadn't started without a few stares from your comrades,

"MY fault? How is this MY fault? Just reign in your little mosquito boyfriend! No one's seen you since lunch! It's dinner time already, you were gone for so long that..."

He trailed off,

"..you guys were gone for so long...oh my god, you guys were...!!"

You slapped a hand over his mouth and considered strangling him for a moment-

"Shhhh! Could you be any louder?? And yes, it's your fault! If you hadn't gone and made a show of your philandering then my neck wouldn't look like I was rolling around in poison ivy!"

You jabbed a finger into his chest,

"Felix never forgets grudges, I should have known! He knew that laundry day isn't till next week and that I don't have any high collared clothes left. These little things, are a declaration to you doofus! He's marking his territory!"

Sylvain stared at you for a moment before howling in laughter,

"Oh this is too good, I knew I was in for a bruising later but I didn't think he'd be leaving a couple marks on you too..!"

For a moment, you thought about lying to Seteth and saying Sylvain had been pestering Flayn (he hadn't) but you were too busy beating yourself up for not realizing.

You should have known! He was licking and sucking on your neck more than usual, and you had noticed, but you were too busy being distracted by what his fingers were doing-

Ahhhhhhh, this is some next level mastermind stuff, and! And! By the time you realized, he had already scampered off to the training grounds.

You couldn't exactly yell at him over it in front of the tournament head.

Huffing, you sighed in defeat, he'd won this round but the next White Heron Cup was coming up soon and you knew the perfect suggestion for who should enter.

Which only left the other monkey sitting next to you,

"Sylvain...I'm going to tell Gilbert you were hitting on his daughter-"

He stopped laughing,

"You wouldn't..."

"Watch me."

#sylvain #felix #lemonish #hee hee can you tell felix is w h i p p e d #also sylvain has big dumb energy I love him too #3houses

[loreolympians]

How To Publish Well (What These Tags & Warnings Even Mean)

In order to publish to Archive of Our Own (AO3), you must fill out several data fields for each piece of fan fiction. Beyond improving your fic’s searchability, these data points are important for a more crucial reason - your readers’ safety.

Too Long; Didn’t Read (TLDR):

TAG WITH THE READER IN MIND: Try to get outside your head as the writer and put the readers’ potential triggers, preferences, and experience first. Take the time to learn the details below. Once you know them, it’s hard to forget.

USE A CLEAR WARNING: Think twice before keeping the default “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings.” If your story has no graphic violence, major death, rape/non-con, or underage sexual activity, go with “No Archive Warnings Apply.”

BREVITY IS THE SOUL OF WIT: Keep your summaries & tags brief to be easily digestible to the reader.

Category

This designates the romantic relationships present. Most fanfic involves romance, so for the few who don’t, your ‘category’ is “Gen/General” - For all others, read on:

F/F  &  F/M  &  M/M - Female/Female, Female/Male, and/or Male/Male romantic relationship, respectively.

Multi - More than one kind of romantic relationship, or a relationship with multiple partners.

Other - Romantic relationships that do not fall in the above. This is RARE. Do not tag family relationships with this. You will confuse/alarm your readers.

Gen/General: Either no romantic or sexual relationships or relationships are not the main focus of the work.

Relationships

Very simply, a:  / (slash) indicates a ROMANTIC relationship - Jill/Joan are getting sexy & (ampersand) indicates a PLATONIC relationship (friend/family) Jill & Joan are best buds

Note: I beg of you (as a lover of side character ships) to only list those relationships that are SIGNIFICANT to the story. If two people are together or friends but their relationship has no change or spotlight in the fic, please do NOT include their relationship tag. Your story will populate when people search for that couple and irritate readers (such as myself) who find the coupling has no significant ‘story’ to tell. Readers are also learning to use a new “otp= true” search functionality which may limit your reach. If people are looking for just a story about H+P but you include 3 other relationships, you wouldn’t show up in that search.

Characters:

Self-explanatory. List all the characters in the story that are important enough to name (more than a brief flash of them in the background).

Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply - Reader doesn’t need any warnings as there is NO graphic violence, major character death, rape/non-con, or underage sexual activity.

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings - One of the warnings below apply, but you don’t want to tell the reader.

Note: This the DEFAULT. Please consider other options, as this is very vague and many readers, like myself, avoid fics with this tag because it sounds like it's saying “The writer should warn you about something awful but is choosing not to.”

Graphic Depictions Of Violence - Gory, graphic, explicitly described violence.

Major Character Death - A central character to your story dies.

Rape/Non-Con - Non-consensual interactions, often sexual, are present in your story.

Underage - Characters under age 18 engage in sexual activity (doesn’t include kissing or vague references).

Rating:

Not Rated - Default. This is treated the same as mature/explicit re: warnings since the site cannot detect what content is in your work. Please avoid this and be clear!

General - Suitable for all ages that can read. Should have no disturbing content.

Teen And Up - Appropriate for ages 13 and up. Can have romance but not explicit whatsoever

Mature - 18+ Adult themes present (sex, violence, etc), but not overly graphic or taking up a large portion of the story. Like a rated R movie.

Explicit - 18+ The story revolves around adult themes (erotica-level sex, very graphic violence and/or disturbing imagery).

Additional Tags

This is where it gets interesting. Ideally, tags are simple ways to inform the reader about the content. However, the way you use tags can either be super helpful to your reader, kinda funny, or come across as annoying (even callous/harmful). My suggestions:

KISS - Keep it Simple, Stupid. Stick to the tags that truly represent the fic. Help readers search and find it based on the content. Don’t go overboard.

Look over the most popular tags and pick a handful that fit. Ask your beta reader or other writers for ideas on good tags to use! As of May 2020, these were the most frequently used tags in the Lore Olympus fandom: Fluff, Romance, Smut, Oral Sex, Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Not Beta Read, Shameless Smut

If you have to make a joke with a tag, please limit to a couple. Many people make their tags humorous, though hearing from backend (unpaid) AO3 staff, this becomes a hassle for them to clean up down the road. If you do make humorous tags, please be mindful and perhaps pare down their use.

Why is tagging/warning/rating important?

The better you tag/code your fiction, the better AO3 as a search engine operates. See “How to Search AO3.”

More importantly, your fiction affects your reader. We hope positively, but some content can be triggering or harmful. The beautiful thing about AO3 is its rating, warning, and tagging system, but it’s only good if the writers utilize it.

Many readers will seek out your fics based on how well you categorize. Perhaps they are seeking out a long-form angst with a Mature/Explicit rating.

Other readers will avoid your fics for the same reason (to protect themselves). Perhaps they explicitly avoid angst, sexual content, abuse and violence (to not trigger their own trauma).

Treat your readers kindly. Be transparent about your work (don’t try to trick people to read by avoiding tags/warnings). Warnings and tags should not be seen as “spoilers” but rather a necessary precaution to keep the reader informed and safe.

Part of a Series or Chapters?

Deciding whether you want your multi-part fan fiction to be one “work” with multiple chapters or separate pieces that are part of a “series” is a tough one. This is just a suggestion and not always the case:

One fic with multiple chapters - There is one main story. The first chapter and last chapter form a cohesive journey, and each piece cannot really be read (enjoyably) alone.

A series with multiple parts - The reader could read one part and be satisfied. They could even jump into part 2, 5, or 12 and read it without much context and find the story enjoyable and with its own individual, unique arc.

Summary

Give the reader a sense for the story in 2-4 sentences (think of it like an ad copy tweet for your favorite book).

Maybe include a short quote to entice or give a sense for your voice. Short being the operative word.

Avoid self-indulgent apologies or overly personal context. Chapter Notes (which you can place either before or after a chapter) are designed more for these personal messages, such as if you’re nervous because it’s your first fic or what it was that inspired you or saying thanks to a friend/beta reader.

There is more to AO3, such as co-authors, challenges, collections, etc. But that’s enough for now :)

Sources: This excellent Tumblr post, AO3’s lengthy FAQ section, and personal trial and error as both a reader and writer.

#Guide #Writing Tips #Writers Guide #fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 #how to

[mintchocolateleaves]

Emogust - 09.08: Stubbornness // @sup-poki - so the other day I rewatched that 1998 movie, ‘The Parent Trap’ and it gave me ideas for this-

“I think I can see what’s going on here,” Kaito says, leaning forward, practically halfway across the table. Aoko thinks he looks stupid when he does that, leaning on his elbows as if he’s preparing to climb over the diner table at any moment. “Wait – nope. What’s going on here?”

Aoko sighs, leans back in her chair.

Waving a hand towards the girl who’s sat beside her, Aoko offers a smile. She says, “this is Mouri Ran.”

“Yes,” Kaito says after a moment, “I kind of caught on after she introduced herself. Why do you two look identical?”

Ah, he’s always been quick. Aoko would give him a gold star if she had one. Although, actually, he’d probably like that, the weirdo.

“Well,” Aoko says, watching Ran from the corner of her eye. The girl tilts her head, offers a soft smile, reassuring. “That’s because we’re twins.”

His expression drops, and for a moment, Aoko isn’t sure what he’s thinking. A flash of fear, of concern? Something. Eventually, he settles on horror as he leans back against the cushioned booth.

“You mean to say there’s two of you?”

Ran frowns. Aoko lets out a dry laugh. “Very funny.”

“I know,” Kaito says, around a wink. “But like, I’m sorry – twins? Aoko, you’ve been an only child for sixteen years.”

“We’re identical!” She pauses, tries to smother the rising irritation that arises every time she talks with him. “And anyway, Ran-chan and I have proof.”

“Yes,” Rans says, quiet. She still seems like she’s in a state of shock, which Aoko supposes is understandable – they’ve only known about the others’ existence for a matter of days. “We found out very recently, but there’s overwhelming evidence, Kuroba-san.”

Aoko can see his eyes dull at the word evidence. She doesn’t call him out on it, simply reaches into her backpack and brings out the tiny memory box that belongs to her mother.

“That’s–” Kaito leans forward, eyebrows squinting. “You went into your mother’s room?”

She would find the concept of him knowing about the box suspicious, knowing his tendency to poke into things that aren’t his business, if they hadn’t been caught as children searching her mother’s bedroom as children.

“Uh-” Aoko hesitates, “well, yes, but only because I was looking for Goro. He was meowing like there’s no tomorrow. I thought he was hurt in there.”

Goro, their family cat. Aoko had wanted to name the blue Russian cat ‘Tsuki’ because his fur had reminded her of the moon, but her mother had insisted on the name.

And well, the cat had been named Goro from there on.

He’d never responded when Aoko had tried calling him Tsuki. Which – evil cat playing favourites. Maybe it was because her mother usually took him to the law firm with her?

Who knows.

“Anyway, I found this and I opened it. It doesn’t matter how.” Aoko opens the tin now, glances at things her mother has kept back over the years. There are a lot of photos of Aoko and her mother – some are taken with her mother at the Kisaki law firm, others with them on various trips out of town – and some with her and Kaito.

Some even have all three of them.

“Look at this,” Aoko says, moving the more recent pictures and taking the photograph at the very bottom of the tin out. It’s yellowing with age, crinkled ever so slightly. She passes it over to Kaito.

His eyes widen.

“Wow,” he says, hesitant, “that’s so weird. It’s almost hard to believe.”

Aoko nods. She glances at the photo again. It depicts Aoko’s mother in her hospital bed, presumably just after delivering them. She’s hugging a baby to her chest, a tired smile up at the camera. And beside her – the man Aoko has never known – her father.

He’s holding another baby. Aoko doesn’t know who’s holding her, but she likes to imagine she’s in her father’s arms here. That they had at least one photo together.

“I don’t get it,” Kaito says, “why would your parents not tell you about each other.”

Fiddling with her hair, Ran says, “my father didn’t tell me much about my mother growing up, but he always said that near the end of their relationship they had a lot of arguments. They couldn’t stand each other, so they split up.”

They receive a hum. And then, after another glance at the photograph, Kaito mumbles, “and here I thought the secrets my parents were keeping from me were big…”

Beneath the table, Aoko kicks him.

Ran doesn’t need to get involved in the whole KID business yet, thank you very much. She doesn’t want to explain to her newly found twin that the boy she’s been crushing on since they were kids is actually a master criminal.

“Ow,” he hisses and then, another glance at the photograph before he passes it back, “wait, isn’t this that famous sleeping detective, Mouri Kogoro?”

“Yes,” Ran says, and she flushes, as if nervous to have family recognised. “He’s my – I mean, Aoko-chan and I’s – father. Aoko-chan told me that she recognised him from the news and wanted to meet him, so she looked up the address of our agency and brought the photograph with her.”

At the weight of Kaito’s stare, Aoko finds her own cheeks burning red. She can practically hear the thoughts as if he’s plucking them from his own head and transferring them over to her: Your father is a detective?

“I wanted to see if he could tell me about the photo,” Aoko says, trying to explain. “I’ve never had a father before, so I- Anyway. When I knocked, Ran-chan was the one who answered the door and here we are.”

“Here we are,” Kaito echoes back. He looks around the diner, to his hot chocolate on the table, and at the tea each girl is drinking. Aoko follows his gaze as it brushes past the waitresses, past the other tables and patrons enjoying their meals. “…In a diner?”

Aoko wants to kick him again. This time however, she restrains herself.

“Well, we had a plan we wanted to get you to help us with.”

The flash of his smirk shouldn’t piss her off as much as it does. Maybe because it’s accompanied by Kaito’s drawl of, “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

“Ran-chan and I want to get our parents back together,” Aoko says.

The way Kaito’s lips part into an ‘o’ shape shows Aoko that it’s not what he’d expected to hear.

“You want your parents,” Kaito says, slowly, “who, as far as you guys know haven’t seen each other in what? Sixteen years? To get back together?”

Ran, at least, has the courtesy to look embarrassed. Aoko, refuses to give in to him. She nods her head.

“That’s the plan.”

“They’ve been apart for over a decade and a half!”

Ran reaches up, scratches at her cheek. She says, “neither of our parents ever moved on to other people.”

“Circumstance.”

“And I mean, mum’s cat is named after dad. She literally called him Goro!”

“You’re reaching.”

“My father has letters that he writes asking for my mother to come back,” Ran says quietly, “but they’re all unsent. I doubt his pride will ever let him send them.”

Kaito’s expression shifts now. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, micro-expressions disappearing, making him a less readable, harder to figure out. He sighs, “if they wanted to be together, wouldn’t they just get back together?”

“They’re our parents,” Aoko says.

“You don’t know if they even want to be together!” Kaito blinks, takes a moment to cool himself. Aoko hadn’t expected him to be so against it, to raise his voice.

“I want to know my father,” Aoko says finally, “and Ran wants to know our mother. If they get back together, we can be a family.”

And how long has Aoko dreamed of being a full family? How many father’s days had she missed out on? how many hugs could she have had…?

Kaito breathes, “you can know them without them being together.”

“We want them to be together,” Ran says, slowly, “and we want to try that, but honestly… if they meet again, and realise they’re in the same city, wouldn’t they arrange to introduce us to each other?”

Lifting his hand, Kaito strokes at his chin. He says, “what’s to say that they don’t know that the other is in the city. I doubt Kisaki-san doesn’t already know. She reads the news.”

Alright, so that fact kind of makes Aoko’s stomach turn a little bit. Knowing how recognisable Mouri Kogoro is in the newspapers at the moment, it’d be wrong to assume her mother didn’t know…

“Well,” Ran says, “my father has only been in the news for a few months now. It might be less a fact of our mother not knowing, and more, trying to figure out what to do now.”

“And your dad?”

“Well, when they first split up, Mum and I moved to Nagoya. We stayed there until I was around five.” Aoko tilts her head, considering. “It’s possible he thinks we’re still there.”

“You lived in Nagoya, Aoko-chan?” Ran claps her hands together. “It’s so beautiful. Dad, Conan-kun and I visited on a trip a while back.”

“Conan-kun?”

“Oh yes,” Ran says, “Conan-kun is like my… honorary little brother? He’s been staying with us for a while now, since his parents move around a lot, and it’d be cruel to not let him settle in one place.”

“Ah, I see.”

Actually, considering it, that name connecting to Mouri Kogoro does sound familiar. Are they referring to Edogawa Conan maybe? The famous KID-killer that Kaito finds himself playing games of wits with during his heists.

She glances at him from the corner of his eye, and is satisfied to see his eye twitch, ever so slightly, as he comes to the same conclusion.

“Oh, oh,” Aoko claps her hands together, “I’d love to meet him at some point. We could have him visit us at some point, Kaito is really good at babysitting too – aren’t you?”

She sends him a look.

It reads: Help us, or I stick the KID-killer on you and hope he figures out your identity.

“R-right,” Kaito says, leaning back to rub at the back of his neck. “Fine – whatever, I’ll help. But honestly, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“I have a plan,” Aoko says, finally. She shares a smile with Ran and takes a sip of the tea she’s long since forgotten. It’s cold now, they’ll have to order fresh cups. “Let me explain–”

-----

*Some notes on the twins AU because I’ve thought a bit about it and wanted to share:

In this AU, obviously Aoko isn’t Nakamori’s daughter. Instead, she’s Eri and Kogoro’s daughter, and Ran’s identical twin. When Eri left Kogoro, the twins were maybe 5-6 months old and they came to the agreement that they would each take one of the girls. She’s named Kisaki Aoko.

Eri takes Aoko, and they move away to Nagoya until Aoko was 5, then they moved in next door to the Kuroba’s in Ekoda.

Aoko doesn’t hate KID so much because her father isn’t chasing him down and as such, she doesn’t feel like she’s missing being able to see him. Kaito told her about how he is KID, but doesn’t mention much about all the danger he’s in.

When Kaito was about 11, years after his father’s death, Chikage started seeing dating Inspector-Nakamori. They’re currently engaged. Now, Kaito is essentially being hunted down by his step-father.

Chikage didn’t know about KID, or about Toichi being murdered. In this, she retired shortly after Toichi saved her and before he debuted at KID. She had suspicions but she never knew for certain.

Aoko’s plan for Kogoro and Eri to get back together involves having Kaito use his impersonation skills to get them both to come to the same hotel under the premise of work.

Conan and Kaito learn the truth about each other pretty early on, and try to navigate the truth without letting the twins and their parents in on it. 

#DCMKEmogust2019 #Nakamori Aoko #Mouri Ran #Kuroba Kaito #KaiAo #DCMK #Detective Conan #Magic Kaito #twins au #mywriting

[vinylexams]

A very special fireside interview with XUXA SANTAMARIA

Check Insta for our thoughts on this landmark album from Oakland duo XUXA SANTAMARIA. Stay right where you are to read a really fun interview I scored with the band this week. They’ve just released Chancletas D’Oro on Ratskin Records out of Oakland and Michael blessed me with my very own copy. It was so good I knew I needed to tell you all about it and I wanted to pick their brains a little bit, too. Without further ado, please enjoy:

//INTERVIEW

You’re still breaking into indie world at large, but you’ve already got a huge following back in California and your home-base in Oakland. What has it been like to be featured in major outlets like The Fader?

SC: We are a funny project; we ebb and flow from being total hermits to having periods of relatively high visibility (relative to aforementioned hermit state). I wouldn’t say we have a huuuge following in CA but I do think that the ‘fandom’ we’ve developed here is really genuine because we don’t play shows out of an obligation to remain visible but instead do so because we feel super passionate about the work and the audience and I think people respond to that energy. I for one, and perhaps this is because of my background in performance, have a hard time performing the same stuff over and over without change which accounts for us being selective with our playing live. That’s also why videos are such an important part of what we’re about. The piece in The Fader was important to the launch of this album because it established some of the themes and, to an extent, the aesthetics of this album in a way that can be experienced outside of a live setting. None of this is to say we don’t like playing live, in fact we love it, we just like to make our sets pleasurable to ourselves and to our audience by constantly reworking it. We strike a weird balance for sure but we’ve made peace with it. If we ever ‘make it’ (lol) it’ll be on these terms.

Chancletas D'Oro is a pretty incredible record and while it reminds me of a few bands here or there, it’s got a really fresh and unique style that merges dance with all sorts of flavors. How would you describe your music to someone who is curious to listen?

MGK: Haha, we generally struggle to describe our music in a short, neat way (not because we make some kind of impossible-to-categorize music, but just because it’s the synthesis of a ton of different influences and it’s hard for US to perceive clearly). But with that caveat in mind - IDK, bilingual art-punk influenced dance/electronic music?

SC: Thank you for saying so, we’re pretty into it :) Like Matt says, we struggle to pin it down which I think is in part to what he says – our particular taste being all over the place, from Drexciya to The Kinks to Hector Lavoe- but I think this slipperiness has a relationship to our concept making and world building. As creative people we make and intake culture like sharks, always moving, never staying in one place too long. Maybe it’s because we’re both so severely ADHD (a boon in this instance tbh) that we don’t sit still in terms of what we consume and I think naturally that results in an output that is similarly traveling. Point is, the instance a set of words - ‘electronic’, ‘dance’, ‘punk’- feel right for the music is the same instance they are not sufficient. I propose something like: the sound of a rainforest on the edge of a city, breathy but bombastic, music made by machines to dance to, pleasurably, while also feeling some of the sensual pathos of late capitalism as seen from the bottom of the hill.

The internet tells me you’ve been making music as Xuxa Santamaria for a decade now. What has the evolution and development of your songwriting been like over those ten years?

MGK: Well, when we first started out as a band we were so new to making electronic music (Sofia’s background was in the art world and mine was in more guitar-based ‘indie rock’ I guess - lots of smoking weed and making 4 track tapes haha), so we legit forgot to put bass parts on like half the songs on our first album LOL. We’ve learned a lot since then! But in seriousness, we’ve definitely gotten better at bouncing ideas back and forth, at putting in a ton of different parts and then pulling stuff back, and the process is really dynamic and entertaining for both of us.

SC: This project started out somewhat unusually: I was in graduate school and beginning what would become a performance practice. I had hit a creative roadblock working with photography - the medium I was in school to develop- and after reading Frank Kogan’s Real Punks Don’t Wear Black felt this urge to make music as a document of experience following Kogan’s excellent essay on how punk and disco served as spatial receptacles for a wealth of experiences not present in the mainstream of the time. I extrapolated from this notion the idea that popular dance genres like Salsa, early Hip Hop, and Latin Freestyle among many others, had served a similar purpose for protagonists of a myriad Caribbean diasporas. These genres in turn served as sonic spaces to record, even if indirectly, the lived experiences of the coming and going from one’s native island to the mainland US wherein new colonial identities are placed upon you. From this I decided to create an alter ego (ChuCha Santamaria, where our band name originally stems from) to narrate a fantastical version of the history of Puerto Rico post 1492 via dance music. We had absolutely no idea what we were doing but I look back on that album (ChuCha Santamaria y Usted - on vinyl from Young Cubs Records) fondly. It’s rough and strange and we’ve come so far from that sound but it’s a key part of our trajectory. Though my songwriting has evolved to move beyond the subjective scope of this first album - I want to be more inclusive of other marginalized spaces- , it was key that we cut our teeth making it. We are proud to be in the grand tradition of making an album with limited resources and no experience :P

We’re a big community of vinyl enthusiasts and record collectors so first and foremost, thanks for making this available on vinyl. What does the vinyl medium mean to you as individuals and/or as a band?

MGK: I think for us, it’s the combination of the following: A. The experience of listening in a more considered way, a side at a time. B. Tons of real estate for graphics and design and details. C. The sound, duh!

SC: In addition to Matt’s list, I would just say that I approach making an album that will exist in record form as though we were honing a talisman. Its objecthood is very important. It contains a lot of possibility and energy meant to zap you the moment you see it/ hold it. I imagine the encounter with it as having a sequence: first, the graphics - given ample space unlike any other musical medium/substrate- begin to tell a story, vaguely at first. Then, the experience of the music being segmented into Side A and Side B dictate a use of time that is impervious to - at the risk of sounding like an oldie - our contemporary habit of hitting ‘shuffle’ or ‘skip’. Sequencing is thus super important to us (this album has very distinct dynamics at play between sides a/b ). We rarely work outside of a concept so while I take no issue with the current mode of music dissemination, that of prioritizing singles, it doesn’t really work for how we write music.

MGK: We definitely both remain in love with the ‘album as art object/cohesive work’ ideal, so I would say definitely - we care a lot about track sequencing, always think in terms of “Side A/Side B” (each one should be a distinct experience), and details like album art/inserts/LP labels etc matter a lot to us.

What records or albums were most important to you growing up? Which ones do you feel influenced your music the most?

SC: I know they’re canceled cus of that one guy but I listened to Ace of Base’s The Sign a lot as a kid and I think that sorta stuff has a way of sticking with you. I always point to the slippery role language plays in them being a Swedish band singing in English being consumed by a not-yet-English speaking Sofía in Puerto Rico in the mid 90s. Other influences from childhood include Garbage, Spice Girls, Brandy + Monica’s The Boy is Mine, Aaliyah, Gloria Trevi, Olga Tañon etc etc. In terms of who influences me now, that’s a moving target but I’d say for this album I thought a lot about the sound and style of Kate Bush, Technotronic, Black Box, Steely Dan, ‘Ray of Light’-era Madonna plus a million things I’m forgetting.

MGK: Idk, probably a mix of 70-80s art rock/punk/postpunk (Stooges, Roxy Music, John Cale, Eno, Kate Bush, Talking Heads, Wire, Buzzcocks, etc etc), disco/post-disco R&B and dance music (Prince, George Clinton, Chic, Kid Creole), 90s pop + R&B + hip hop (Missy & Timbaland, Outkast/Dungeon Family production-wise are obviously awe-inspiring, So So Def comps, Jock Jams comps, Garbage & Hole & Massive Attack & so on), and unloved pop trash of all eras and styles.

Do you have any “white whale” records that you’ve yet to find?

MGK: Ha - the truth is that we’re both much more of a “what weird shit that we’ve never heard of can we find in the bargain bin” type of record buyer than “I have a custom list of $50 plus records on my discogs account that I lust over”.

SC: Not really, I’m wary of collectorship. That sort of ownership might have an appeal in the hunt, once you have it do you really use it, enjoy it? Funnily, I have a massive collection of salsa records that has entries a lot of music nerds would cry over (though they’re far from good condition, the spines were destroyed by my Abuela’s cat, Misita lol, but some are first pressings in small runs). For me its value however, comes from its link to family, as documents from another time and as an amazing capsule of some of the best music out of the Caribbean. I’m glad I am their guardian (a lot of this stuff is hard to find elsewhere, even digitally) but I live with those records, they’re not hidden away in archival sleeves, in fact, I use some of that music in my other work. Other than that, the records I covet are either those of friends or copies of albums that hold significance but which are likely readily available, Kate Bush’s The Dreaming or Love’s Forever Changes, or The Byrds Sweetheart of The Rodeo as random examples

Finally, is there a piece of interesting band trivia you’ve never shared in another interview?

SC: haha, not really? Maybe that we just had a baby together?

//

Congrats on your new baby, and also for this wonderful new album. It was a pleasure chatting with you and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you and your music!

#xuxasantamaria #interview #oakland #music #electronic #electronicmusic #ratskin #ratskinrecords

[blu-b]

Cornish funny farm, a review (Poldark S3 E8)

I usually don’t do this kind of comment / summary, but after today’s episode let me chime in with a few things….

Behind a cut, for reasons.

Ross & Elizabeth 3.0: Oh finally, those two get to talk in private, and like adults. Yay! Now everything will be rectified…right? Right?

Ooooh far from it! They talk and talk and…. never come to the actual point?? Elizabeth hints at Valentine’s parentage, Ross asks if he’s his, Elizabeth says she doesn’t know - cue a brief hysterical fit where Ross accuses her of not wanting to tell (to what point and purpose should she?? Also Ross, mate, if you have any basic knowledge of how reproduction works, you’d know that this is not an exact science, at least not in your times), Elizabeth once again defending herself for something that is not her fault, Ross wanting to know what exactly George suspects…and the conversation starts all over again. Hello?? Get to the fucking POINT, people!

OK Ross basically apologizing for what he did was VERY relieving, as was seeing that they still have some sort of fondness for each other, albeit a sad one; but what was that bullshit about “never injure the woman I loved” - remember you kicked in her door and broke into her bedroom? Also, I’m not a fan of his borderline aggression when he says “You WON’T tell!”…too many bad memories of that one night™ .

And then, the weirdest and wildest thing ever: So the only way to save her marriage to George is by “giving him another child” and make it look like it’s premature as well. “When there’s some confusion about the date…” Yes Ross, really, are you happy to help out again?

ARE YOU KIDDING ME, DEBBIE H.?? What’s this bumfuckery?? Why is Ross suggesting such a thing to her?? I can’t believe it…I was literally yelling at the TV like: “Ross…..Roooooss…..no, you didn’t..ROSSSSS ROOOOSSS NOO ROSS!!” What in fuck’s name did I just witness???? This can’t be serious. I’m still speechless.

Also, Ross, your many “all in good friendship” kisses to Elizabeth’s face are cute, but did you check if she really wants that? No? Ah, I’m smelling a pattern here. 

And, what’s all that guesswork about who told George of their night together? 

R: Have you never hinted to him….? E: How could I?? But maybe you said something to him….? R: Asjsalmnkbjamff!!! E: Oh, but who could have told him? Hmmmmm. Who else was in the house….. ………… ……….. ……….. Both, looking ominously out to the graveyard: ………………..could it be? Agatha….?

I mean, how stupid is that? Agatha basically told Elizabeth on her dying bed (stool) that she had spilled the beans to George, so…..dafuq?

I liked what they did with Ross “confessing” his feelings to Demelza, it explains a lot about his later actions and why he’s trying to hard to stick to his promise. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t say it in the end - of course he should, but for his character development it’s not important whether he says it out loud or just in his head; the main thing is that he has reached that conclusion and is coming to terms with his own feelings that were so unclear to him not too long ago. I really like season 3 Ross so far with the exception of the above examples, so yeah…there’s still hope.

Insert obligatory timeline glitch: “And for the first time in years, we talked. ” - Ross meaning Elizabeth. Ummm. Years? Valentine is like what, 2 years old? And there was that incident with the horses at the cliffs, he spoke to Elizabeth there, albeit briefly, but he did speak to her. “For the first time in years” makes it sound like they haven’t talked for a decade. Meanwhile, Jeremy Poldark has aged one day. 

So, back to the talk. So the plan is to seduce poor George every day so that no one can tell exactly when a possible new baby was conceived? Very clever. Good luck with that.

Speaking of George….and ok yeah I’m biased here, but still….my poor precious darling boy! :’( The small victory of the election is tarnished by his family affairs. He so wants to believe little Valentine is his, but he just can’t get over old Agatha’s cruel words. Played to perfection by Jack, the internal struggles of a man who doesn’t know if he’s being lied to by the woman he loves, or has just been led on by an old woman’s spite. I liked to see that his nervous little habits increase, and it’s also quite telling in this context that it’s George who first loses his nerve in the dispute with Ross, not the other way round as usual (note to self: I do love when George results to cursing, shouting, or a threatening purr ^^). And that image of him sitting alone in his carriage almost broke my heart :-(

What was stupid though was that they put the confrontation in after Ross spoke to Elizabeth. He knows that George is suspicious of her and of Valentine’s parentage, and still he says something stupid like “…and so is her son!” - meaning Geoffrey Charles, of course, but it’s just such a cheap and obvious way of creating suspense. George very obviously and understandably thinks Ross is - in anger - referring to Valentine, and how can he not think that? Ross of course doesn’t say it with that intention, but it’s just stupid because he usually either says “Francis’ son” (because that’s what makes GC a Poldark in the first place), or simply “Geoffrey Charles”, not “Elizabeth’s son”. It would have made A LOT more sense to put this BEFORE the conversation with Elizabeth, so that Ross actually realizes that he has said something incredibly stupid to George and put Elizabeth under even more suspicion. The way it is, it’s just another cheap “Poldark vs. Warleggan” moment.

Then, Demelza. I almost felt sorry for her when yet another man tells her “You’re not perfect, but I’m not looking for perfection anyway…” - like seriously? Is Hugh actually getting her with the same superficial crap that Ross told her? Ugh. Don’t get me wrong, Hugh is cute and I like him, but I’m not sure I like / understand the way his attraction to her is portrayed. It’s all a bit too obvious and too much and…well, yeah. I don’t really care enough to delve deeper into it.

Morwenna’s storyline is finally getting a bit interesting, after endless hours of her looking at Drake like a moon calf and swooning over some flowers and standing at the window looking longingly out to…whatever. Worse that what they did to Elizabeth in s2, imho. She still doesn’t do much but sit there and suffer, but this time I’ve actually shed a tear for her because I’m finally beginning to feel a bit more for this character than just “ugh…!”.

Also, I get that Osborne is a horrible man that we shouldn’t come to like, but I’ve got to admit that he does have some comical moments, and especially perfect timing, so kudos to Christian Brassington for this portrayal.

Also, I kind of like Rowella. I wasn’t too into any of the “young generation” and I still don’t care a damn for Sam Carne and his what’s-her-face, and neither for Drake for that matter, but the way Rowella plays the fat vicar’s vices is kind of entertaining (and makes one wonder why her sister never thought of similar tricks, but she was possibly too busy looking out the window…). 

Final conclusion: Almost every marriage in Cornwall is beyond botched.

One ray of light though, Dwight. Dwight is always right. Hahaha, I loved how he stuck it to fat Ossie ^^ But in general, he and Caroline don’t get nearly enough screen time in this season. 

Elizabeth was again reduced to little else but holding Valentine and looking ominous, but I did love how in two scenes she got to actually decide something for herself, and how she takes on responsibility, not only of Morwenna, but in general. She seems more like the lady of the house now and issues commands, and she’s not afraid to use the differences in their rank to put Osborne into his place. Well done, lovely lady! *applauds* Also, I like how her feelings for George seem to have developed into something more than convenience.

Finally though, Ross and Demelza. Oh my. What a clusterfuck of bullshit. It all boils down to:

“My heart will always and forever belong to you…but, actually, trying out another man for a day would be kinda cool, and once I did that I’ll happily return to you and go on as if nothing happened, also btw you cheated on me so you are morally obliged to grant me this favour." 

Wow. Kudos to Ross for his self-control and his patience with her. I’m not getting into the discussion whether cheating out of revenge is okay or not, and neither into any other for that matter, and while I admit that Ross has some horrible flaws and did abysmal things in the past, he’s trying so hard this season, especially with Demelza. That he makes a few remarks the like of “Not every man in Cornwall is in love with you” doesn’t really come as a surprise after the Fucky McMustache episode, but all in all and given that it’s Ross we’re speaking of, he’s basically snuggly as a kitten. Whereas my understanding for Demelza shrinks with every episode since season 2 tbh. OK so he doesn’t write her poems, so what? He doesn’t care what dress colour she wears, so what? She could be stuck in a FAR worse marriage with a far worse man (think Osborne), and also some of her antics are really rather pointless and just feel like random bitching because she doesn’t get what she wants (a large part of which seems to be the “ploughing” of a certain “field” if I’m reading this correctly; at least that seems to be what the script is hinting at). 

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that they’re working through a difficult time in their marriage, and both of them are not easy persons, but - citing the books - all of this is about eventually understanding that there’s more to love and marriage than what convention teaches us and that in order to understand a partner and truly love them, you need to let go of them sometimes. And there would have been so many more ways to bring that across in film, instead of having Demelza be randomly angry with Ross and paying him back by cheating with the next best man who babbles romantic nonsense at her. 

This was one of the more powerful episodes in s3, and still the overall feeling I’m left with is one of being sorry for all the persons who’d deserve more happiness than what they’re currently getting: Elizabeth & George, Morwenna & Drake, and Ross….

Oohooo and edit: No Ross, Elizabeth is actually not "the only person" who can do something about this spiderweb of lies you're both entangled in (especially not by telling another lie!). YOU could walk up to George and tell him face to face that Elizabeth is innocent, that you slept with his fiancée against her will and that you're sorry for what you did, and if Valentine should turn out to come after you, that you'll help support the child (even though George and Elizabeth surely don't need the money). That would come very close to a suicide mission, but it would be honest for once and you'd not be using Elizabeth to cover up your own mistakes.

#poldark spoilers #spoilers #poldark season 3 #not tagging this with poldark or character names because i don't wanna be sucked into fandom bullshit #my review #basically a rant #this is me just blurting out my first impressions #I need to see this again in order to appreciate it

[are-scared-of-revolution]

The N-Word and How To Use It

It's what blacks have always done since we hit America's shores: we take what's given us and we find a way to make it our own. By Bennie M. Currie

N-I-G-G-E-R. I'll never forget the first time I accidentally used that word in mixed company. It was 20 years ago at the University of Missouri, and I was engaged in lighthearted chitchat with Kent, my white roommate, when I casually called him a "nigger."

For a second I'd forgotten that I was not among my black friends in my old neighborhood in Saint Louis, where calling a buddy "nigger" was synonymous with calling him "brother" or "man." It was just another way to talk cool, using a word that had become a part of our vocabulary long before we were aware of all its varied meanings and usages.

I was barely conscious of my accidental utterance, but there was nothing casual about Kent's reaction. His eyes widened, and his body flinched as though he'd just absorbed a boxer's jab. Then he snapped to an upright position on the edge of his bed, narrowed his eyes, and pointed an index finger at me. "I'm not a nigger," he said, his tone implying that he thought I was a nigger. He never actually called me a nigger, but the mere suggestion was enough to put me in a fighting mood.

"Do I look like a nigger to you?" I shouted.

"But you just called me a nigger," he replied.

"Well, that's different. You can't call me that. Not ever."

Fortunately, our dorm mates stopped this exchange before I could throw a punch at Kent, who probably thought I was nuts. Actually I was simply too angry to realize that I was the one at fault.

By calling Kent a nigger, I'd exposed him to what my old neighborhood friends called a "black thing" he didn't understand. The "thing" is the love/hate relationship many black people have with "nigger," one of the most complex, perplexing, and emotionally incendiary words in the American lexicon. And to be truthful, black people are hardly unified in their understanding or usage of this piece of slang.

There have been times in my life when I've felt very comfortable using the word, but I've also struggled with its usage. And now that I'm a parent I cringe at the notion that my two children will someday have to try to understand what these six letters mean to them, their friends and foes, and the larger society. While my wife and I are readying ourselves for questions like "Where do babies come from?" I know that none will be more vexing than the first innocent query about the N-word.

I could take the easy way out and tell our kids that "nigger" is a bad word that good boys and girls should never use. Or maybe I could recite the old "sticks and stones" adage and tell them it's a name that can never hurt them. But neither tactic is likely to work, especially the second, since I don't believe it myself.

If my kids are destined to be introduced to a word born of racial hatred, then their parents should be the ones to do it. But television, the Internet, the school playground, and other competitors for our kids' attention may get to them first. Or a dictionary.

Last February Kathryn Williams, curator of the Museum of African American History in Flint, Michigan, was asked by a little boy, "Am I a nigger because I'm black?" She told the naturally curious child that a nigger was any ignorant person, then advised him to look up the word in the dictionary for reassurance. The kid paged through the venerable Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, where he found that "nigger" is a term for "a black person--usu. taken to be offensive." With only minor revisions, this definition has existed for nearly half a century.

This was a shocking revelation for Williams, who started a petition drive to pressure Merriam-Webster to revise the definition. Her campaign gained momentum last September, when Emerge magazine ran a brief article about it. Since then, scores of people have joined her, many of them contending that the current definition inaccurately explains the meaning of the word. Some of them also believe the racial epithet is undeserving of inclusion in a dictionary and want it deleted altogether.

I know why Williams and others like her are upset. Being called "nigger" by a white person or a white-run institution is a slap in the face for many blacks. It evokes thoughts of the sorry legacy of slavery and the racism that haunts the nation. And it hurts. When I checked out the definition in my own copy of the Collegiate edition I felt stung--particularly since I knew that dictionaries are almost as ubiquitous as Gideon Bibles.

I don't believe the publishers of the collegiate edition meant to offend anyone. Most likely, they were simply reflecting the confusion that stems from the paradoxical usage of the word among Americans of all hues, cultures, and generations.

Since my dorm-room experience, several whites have told me of their own struggles to understand the term--and to understand why a word that was used for centuries by white people to disparage and dehumanize their black slaves and today is a chief element of hatespeak (witness the Nigger Joke Center on the World Wide Web) is cool for blacks to use but taboo for them. They ask, How can any self-respecting black person stand to use it? Why do black kids call each other "my nigga" in such endearing tones, privately as well as publicly? Is this a "self-hatred thing"?

I say no. It's what blacks have always done since we hit America's shores 400 years ago. We take what's given to us, or thrown at us, and we find a way to make it our own. Blacks melded African rhythms and European music to create jazz, this country's only original musical art form. We took the parts of livestock whites didn't care to eat--intestines, tongues, ears, and feet--mixed them with our native African dishes and conjured up soul food.

In the same manner, blacks took the loaded term "nigger" and disarmed it by making it a household word. In fact, we went on to embrace it by using it to spice up poetry, rap lyrics, and many a comedy stand-up routine. A case in point is Paul Mooney, a comedian and writer (Saturday Night Live, Good Times, and In Living Color). He doesn't just use "nigger" to accent his stand-up act. It's often the focal point of his jokes. In one bit he complains about the flak he catches from whites who sometimes object more vociferously to his liberal use of the word than do many blacks. "Make that nigger stop saying nigger. He's giving me a nigger headache," he jokes. "Well white folks, you shouldn't have ever made up the word. You fucked up. I say nigger 100 times every morning. It makes my teeth white."

Chris Rock, who currently hosts a weekly HBO talk show, is another funny man at peace with his use of "nigger." While my grandmother has never heard of him, she and Rock assign a similar meaning to the term. The hot comic told B.E.T. Weekend magazine he uses it to describe "a certain kind of black person who wallows in ignorance and likes being ignorant." During a recent HBO special, Rock expressed this point of view with these one-liners: "Niggers react to books the way vampires react to sunlight." "Niggers always want credit for something they should be doing. 'I take care of my kids.' You're supposed to take care of your kids!" "Black people don't give a damn about welfare reform. Niggers are shaking in their boots."

Rock, who used to lampoon CBS anchor Bryant Gumbel for "talking white," recently apologized publicly for using such a label. But he doesn't plan to cut "nigger" out of his act anytime soon. "I'll stop when niggas stop," he said. "Niggas robbed my house, robbed my mother's house. Black people didn't do that." He adds, "I would love to have no reason to use the word. I'd love for it to be obsolete."

Richard Pryor, one of Rock's role models, was at the height of his legendary career in 1982, when he vowed never again to use the word to refer to another black person. He said he'd had an epiphany during a visit to Africa. He didn't see any "niggers" in the motherland and realized that blacks there had no need to use the word. Pryor shared his pledge with the audience during a stand-up routine that was later released as a feature film, Richard Pryor Live on the Sunset Strip. The statement inspired lots of blacks to make the same vow.

I haven't made that pledge, but before I saw Pryor's film I never thought twice about why I used "nigger." I'm less comfortable using it now, but because of my lifelong cultural association with the word, I can't foresee total avoidance. Because my kids have a different culture, I've never used it around them, and I don't intend to.

Since my kids aren't going to grow up hearing "nigger" under our roof, the question still remains: How should I explain this word to them? There's only one way to do it--candidly and carefully. I'll tell them that the word is a national shame and at times a painful reminder of their ancestors' struggle for freedom. And I'll explain that the term has a history just as relevant as Jim Crow, the Revolutionary War, lynching, or Watergate, which is why forcing a dictionary to delete it would be a mistake, would be censorship.

Meanwhile the people at Merriam-Webster are busy mulling a revision of their definition of "nigger," according to spokesman Steve Perrault. He wrote me via E-mail that it's too early to pinpoint when or if a change will be made, but he assured me the issue will be resolved before the dictionary's next scheduled major update, in 2003. "The problem for us is that it's not simply a matter of changing one entry," Perrault said. "If we revise our treatment of the offensive word, we also have to revise our treatment of the many other offensive words in the dictionary. That makes it a fairly major undertaking, and our feeling is that we want to be sure we're getting it right."

Sounds like a good idea. But does this really require much deliberation? I don't think so. The third edition of the American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language already has it figured out. Its definition of "nigger" begins with the words "offensive slang...used as a disparaging term for a black person." As an illustration, a quote from James Baldwin follows: "You can only be destroyed by believing that you really are what the white world calls a Negro."

This interpretation seems fair and accurate to me. It's even suitable for the eyes of a child. And it may even enlighten a confused college kid or two.