#today is the day i believe fiercely in bad vibes and all of them are going their way

[janggtoco]

songs you associate your moots with?

okie anon. u didn't know this but you asked someone who takes their music recs very seriously so letsgetit (i only picked songs from my fave albums & liked songs playlist, nothing but the best for my favorite people)

@seokgyuu: dog days are over by florence + the machine - the reason i picked this for mitchie is bcs literally the WEEK maybe even the DAY we started regularly talking, i instantly felt less lonely and felt more ready to just. rebuild my life. and she gave me much more motivation and inspiration and i was just a much happier person to be on this app ;-; she's the reason i'm back to being my somewhat normal self.. i'm forever grateful for her love ;-;

leave all your loving and longing behind / you can't carry it with you if you want to survive / the dog days are over / can you hear the horses? / cause here they come

@seokmins: st. patrick by pvris but also lay me down by sam smith - i mean. obviously i had to pick the song that inspired the first chapter of my own series white noise.. but lay me down.. it's just the perfect calming song. i can't explain it but it's so elv-coded for me.. both of these are tbh. elv helps me forget the bad in my life and i hope i give her even just a fraction of the comfort and happiness she gives me ;-;

but please stay / cause i think you're a saint and i think you're an angel / i said you give me something to talk about that's not the shit in my head / you're a miracle

&

told me not to cry when you're gone / but the feeling's too overwhelming it's much too strong / can i lay by your side? next to you / and make sure you're alright / i'll take care of you / and i don't want to be here if i can't be with you tonight

@bitchlessdino: bubblegum bitch by marina - nana just kind of own bubblegum pink in my mind right now (it's also perfect for her online theme for both of her blogs rn).. i don't think this song really embodies nana in any way other than her fierce alter ego that comes out when you wrong her or her loved ones. like she is queen electra heart what can i say!!

i'll chew you up and i'll spit you out / cause that's what young love is all about / so pull me closer and kiss me hard / i'm gonna pop your bubblegum heart

@bisexualgyu: intro/forgive me by chloe x halle but also mundo by iv of spades - listen. rhys has chloe x halle energy. don't fight me on this. like this whole album is lowkey her-coded deservedly so. and mundo is a little obvious (at least for her). she knows why <3

so forgive me, forgive me / i've been going too hard in your city / so forgive me cause i'm not teary / best believe i move onto better things

&

limutin na ang mundo / nang magkasama tayo / sunod sa bawat galaw / hindi na maliligaw / mundo'y magiging ikaw

@97-liners: daddy lessons by beyoncé - picked this one just bcs it tells the trials and tribulations of growing up with a tough parent and ultimately loving them through all their flaws while also realizing the trauma they put you through. not to get deep but yeah skdjfs sorry to give you a country song jackie but at least it's beyonce 😭

tough girl is what i had to be / he said, "take care of your mother / watch out for your sister" / and oh, that's when he gave to me / with his gun, with his head held high / he told me not to cry / oh, my daddy said shoot

@gguksgalaxy: bitch, don't kill my vibe by kendrick lamar - just ready to be straight chillin'. tired of the drama. here for a good time with people who also won't cause too much drama. also just a straight up club banger lol.

i am a sinner / who's probably gonna sin again / lord forgive me / things i don't understand / sometimes i need to be alone / bitch don't kill my vibe / i can feel your energy from two planets away / i got my drink i got my music i would share it but today i'm yelling / bitch don't kill my vibe

@taeiltual: nights w u by tiffany day - just such a lovely feel good person that i love talking to and always brightens my day! this song is just bouncy and lovely just like bex in my mind <3 sdkfjs

but we don't got to talk about it / i just want to dance around / all night with you, you, you, you / cause i don't wanna feel the pressure / know that I'll be better when all my nights / are with you, you, you, you

#as always any moots i missed who want a song just send an ask~ #this was so fun i hope ya'll like your songs i tried to stay away from kpop skdfjsj #but i can do kpop too 🫶🏾 #anonymous #asks

[seacollectsrivers]

me, who has been biking everywhere for the past two or three months, just wanted one trip to mam's where could just sit back and not have to be in traffic. maybe read my book.

i also don't have a phone atm.

i had also completely forgotten that Ruter (who operate the public transport) for some goddamn reason decided to dismantle the ticket machines everywhere, meaning you can only buy tickets at select shops and kiosks or through the phone app.

none of the selected stores or kiosks are near me. my phone is non-functional.

i am! frustrated!

#don't rb lol #idk why you would but in case #i've ended up staying home and sending bad thoughts ruter's way #today is the day i believe fiercely in bad vibes and all of them are going their way #there IS a kiosk in somewhere #but it's just far enough away that it doesn't warrant ever going there deffo not for a 1hr one-use ticket #i have many beefs with ruter >:( #most of them having to do with tickets and the ticket inspectors (?)

[the-last-kenobi]

*kciks down door* ReQuEsTs?!??! uh, 18. “Is it all right if I hug you?” with Obi-wan and character of your choice (please, this boy needs a hug so bad)

Hugs!!!! What an excellent ask.

Took me forever to pick a character though. I came this close to writing multiple hugs throughout the years but it would’ve been very long...

It’s still long. Whoops.

Note: I skipped the actual sentence and instead went for ✨vibes only✨

(From this various prompts list.)

_

Obi-Wan is twenty-three standard years old, very nearly twenty-four.

It is a delightful stage of life. (It’s awful.)

He’s growing in independence, so close to Knighthood he can almost taste it. (Is he? Nobody seems to have a clear opinion.)

He’s receiving more and more solo assignments, and on his missions with Master Jinn, the older Jedi makes an effort to at least await the Padawan’s input before making a decision, sometimes even deferring to Obi-Wan’s word. (Only in public, though, is there a sense of equality. Behind the scenes, Obi-Wan is still very much the learner.)

He longs to be free. (He doesn’t want to be alone.)

The confusing clash of thoughts and emotions is, in and of itself, a creator of more clashing emotions, all resulting in a bundle of self-doubt that crouches near his heart, like a greedy bird, picking away at his strength and certainty when he most needs it.

Doesn’t your doubt show you that you’re truly not ready? the pestering creature asks.

Doesn’t your longing for freedom prove you don’t deserve it? it says, tapping against the veins of ice and fear that lie right against the heat of his heart.

Doesn’t your need to be reassured tell you that you’re too hesitant, too weak to be alone?

His desire to fly is wrong. His desire to be sheltered, even more so.

Both together, coexisting in his heart and mind, could quite possibly mean the one thing he had been dreading for over a decade now, the thing older Jedi, real Jedi, had put into words and addressed to his face when he was only twelve, only eleven, only ten.

You are too emotional, they said.

You are overeager, they said.

You are not destined to be a Jedi, Qui-Gon had told him. I will not train you.

He had, in the end, and Obi-Wan has been wondering in the depths of his heart for all these years of it had not been a dreadful mistake. As much as the Force sings in his ears Jedi, Jedi, Jedi, endure, Jedi, Jedi, it felt like everything he touched, everything tangible, argues back failure, weak, selfish, foolish, unwanted, not fit.

Obi-Wan is twenty-three, almost twenty-four, and he is years into adulthood and light years away from proving that he’s capable of handling it.

When will he be Knighted?

Nobody seems to be expecting it from him.

Do they know, he wonders, have they known since the beginning that I am doomed to fail? Has this all been a gracious attempt, a thank you for my actions on Bandomeer, and they have drawn this out and out and out as long as they can?

How much longer can this go on?

Still, there are moments when he is at peace, when Obi-Wan is sure. When he meditates, when he accomplishes something new, when he walks away from an assignment feeling unashamed when he translates his memories into a tidy mission report.

When he has one of his long talks with Master Yoda, or Master Windu, who despite their revered status have taken to talking to him more like a friend than a child, outside of the Council chambers.

When he remembers the Force whispering inside, Jedi Jedi Jedi Jedi, endure, Jedi...

And then, on one of the missions assigned to both himself and his Master - still the overwhelming majority of his assignments - he and Qui-Gon are separated during a violent uprising.

There are bodies in the streets and buildings are aflame; children weep over the bodies of their parents and parents cradle the bodies of their children and scream as if the sound is their only companion left in the world. The standing government has a point, the rebellion has a point, the civilians caught in the crossfire don’t say which point they agree with because they’re too busy screaming and perishing, and Qui-Gon is simply gone.

Obi-Wan, faced with the threat of further bloodshed right here and right now even as the air is still clogged with ash and flame and as another body topples from a rooftop in front of his feet, raises his hand in surrender and calmly proposes a truce, offering himself as a legal hostage against the government that brought the Jedi here.

Obi-Wan is led away with his hands bound behind his back and his lightsaber taken away, and though his face is calm, the furrow between is brow speaks of his inner turmoil, which sounds like tapping against the cracks in his heart and Qui-Gon, where is Master Qui-Gon, I don’t know what I’m doing, if I fail more people will die, if I fail it will be my fault, is this taking charge or stepping aside, am I a leader or a victim?

He spends not days, not weeks, but three standard months as a hostage. He spends a terrible amount of time sitting in a cell and pondering his uselessness, the gravity of his foolishness, but every time someone opens the door and escorts him out to hold parley with the leaders of the rebellion and the ministry of the planet, he holds his head high, tempers his fear, and speaks to them with all he has.

Which is honesty. Humility.

You don’t know what to do, he says. Neither do I.

We all know we must do something. No matter how much blood you spill and how much earth you scorch you will eventually come back here to this table to have this same discussion until either both of you are broken beyond belief or one of you has been crushed, and half your planet’s voice stolen away. And you will have sacrificed two of the Republic’s Jedi along the way, a black mark against whichever victor is left standing.

Or, he says, we choose to pass over the violence and talk here and now, and choose this again and again and again. You have already had your fighting. Your people are already hoping for negotiation.

Are you here for their sakes or to kill them for show?

He does not use these exact words.

He sews them into his brief speeches, hammers in the point sharply when he must, weaves the common thread over and over again.

He knows they fight while he is locked away.

But he believes, from the growing respect in the eyes of these people who hold him both by his and against his will, that he is making a difference. He must be.

And Obi-Wan is twenty-three, very very nearly twenty-four, when he finally walks free to witness the signing of a treaty like this planet has never had before, to witness the formation of a new government, and he discovers not ashes and mass graves when he sees daylight for the first time in three months — but instead, a city and a planet marred only by scattered battlefields, and marked more clearly by the way its people have fought to keep it clean, to keep it safe.

Children race through the streets, unafraid, because they have had real shelter during the war. It has not entered their homes since that first terrible day.

Neighbors from opposing sides of this fight and friends who staked no claim in this war mingle freely. Their smiles are a little hesitant, but they are there.

The dead are all honored equally.

It is leaps and bounds, it is a civilization that propelled itself through years of struggle in three months, and Obi-Wan is awed by them.

He knows it cannot be this way everywhere.

He knows that there will be wars where no one wants to surrender, or where one side will be so certain of their point of view that they would rather raise hell than cease, and he knows there will be people who resist them.

But today it is real.

Obi-Wan looks at his pale and clammy hands, the marks around his wrists where he was so often bound, and feels the way his limbs shake from months of too little sunlight, not quite enough food, and more than his share of fear and doubt and self-recrimination.

As he smiles for a camera that will record this moment forever, he glimpses Qui-Gon amongst the crowd.

Someone explains to him, when he asks, that his Master had been injured during the uprising and spent the first three weeks of Obi-Wan’s captivity in convalescence. The remaining time, he has spent on the sidelines, forced there by his Padawan’s actions. With Obi-Wan a willing hostage, playing negotiator and leverage both, Qui-Gon had no role except to mingle with the people, offer them comfort and aid.

Something Obi-Wan knows his Master loved, but — he had still stolen his Master’s role.

He had thrown himself into a stupid, foolish situation, and how many times had Qui-Gon teased him about playing damsel in distress? And here he has gone and surrendered of his own accord. What would Qui-Gon have done if Obi-Wan had led them all to ruin?

Obi-Wan slowly loses his confidence, his relief, his silver tongue, as the press and the people recede, and he and his Master walk to a room that has been prepared for both of them, as honored guests by this new government.

Qui-Gon says nothing to him.

They walk in silence for twelve minutes.

And then, as soon as the door has shut behind them, Obi-Wan finds himself pulled into a fierce embrace, one of his Master’s hands buried in his hair, Qui-Gon’s chin resting atop his head.

Obi-Wan hesitates.

Does his Master think him a child?

Perhaps Qui-Gon senses his thoughts, because the man pulls away briefly, still holding his Padawan by the shoulders, as if unwilling to let him go completely, else he vanish like smoke.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon says, and his voice is loud and strong and brimming with warmth that washes over Obi-Wan like sunlight, like water, like an embrace. “Well done, my Padawan.”

And then he is pulled again into Qui-Gon’s comforting arms, and Obi-Wan breathes in and gives in, folding against his teacher like a child, and if a few tears stain Qui-Gon’s robes or drop into Obi-Wan’s hair, neither of them speaks of it.

Obi-Wan lets his Master hold him, lets go of fear and pride and doubt, and finds that he is safe.

~

#star wars #my writing #star wars fic #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #master & padawan #padawan obi wan #look they are just a slightly repressed and off kilter #father and son #that is all #hugs #hugs!!! #more hugs needed #tw blood #tw death #tw bomb #tw war #tw child death

[sweetestlamb]

I've Got You Under My Skin Part 2

Author's note: Can you tell I'm inspired? A double fic post who is she? Dedicated to @serxeins because I know I can always count on you to read and comment and give me some good vibes.

Summary: She's not jealous.

He's not there the next day and it puts her in another foul mood, honestly who was he to invade her life like this and then leave as he pleased? She would be the one to send him away not the other way around, she was the one in control here.

She goes all the way to his house after work to inform him of this, slightly more prepared for his state of dress- he's only wearing a thin white shirt and flowy pants, both made of soft looking cotton.

"No wonder you're still sick. Look at you're wearing." She rolls her eyes at him not waiting to be invited in, he never waits for her and ignores her when she tells him to go away. It's their thing. Blatant disregard.

"That's shaming, that's no way to speak to a sick person. What medical school did you go to?"

"One that taught me to prioritize honesty over niceties."

She has more porridge but it's her mom's recipe the one she used to make when she was feeling sick and it was hard to keep anything down. She had suddenly remembered it the night before and woke up early to prepare it from sensory memory alone, she was hardly a chef but this was the only meal she could make without fail. If her eyes had prickled with instead tears as she stirred the pot that was no one's business but her own. She hadn't been able to make it for years now but for some reason she couldn't stop herself this morning.

"What's this?" He asks curious over her shoulder, his chin barely grazing her skin. She doesn't move away ignoring the thrumming his closeness elicits.

"Porridge."

"It smells good. It doesn't look like grandma's porridge. Where did you get it?"

"I made it." It's embarrassing admitting that she made anything for him, she feels like she's showing her hand far too much but can't get her mouth to stop revealing her heart.

"You're full of surprises. Let's heat it up."

He looks better now, no longer flushed and sweaty. The fever must have broken over night, he looks rejuvenated scooping the food into a pot and warming it up.

His house looks a bit cleaner today as well, the windows are open allowing a wonderful breeze to fill the space and sweep away the stench of sick in the air. She walks aimlessly until she sees a bit of material on the floor, bending to pick it up she glares at the material in her hand. It's a light pink scarf, thin and almost sheer. He has an eclectic style but this is indubitably a woman's scarf, she almost throws it on the ground in a fit.

"What are you doing?" He breaks her from her shock, walking towards her with twin bowls in his hands.

She almost hides the scarf away feeling ashamed of the searing hotness that rips through her chest like a current. But foolishly she swings her hand up presenting the offending item instead, narrowing her eyes as she peers at him.

"What's this?" She challenges, a voice in the back of her mind begs her to shut the fuck up but her anger pushes her forward recklessly.

He tilts his head looking intensely at the item before pursing his lips and answering, "I think it's a scarf."

No fucking shit Sherlock.

She looks at him unimpressed and unamused not quite understanding why she cares so much that there's a scarf- a feminine nother scarf in his house.

"I had a guest earlier. She probably left it." He replies lightly sitting their food down on the table and she follows him briskly still not satisfied with his answers.

"Give me back my porridge." She says childishly snatching away his bowl just as he's about to eat, the look of annoyance on his face brings her nothing but pure joy.

"What's your problem now?" He argues reaching for the bowl but she tugs it further out of his reach. With a long suffering sigh he stands up, stepping closer to retrieve the bowl but that move brings them chest to chest and she stares up at his bright eyes.

Bringing his hands up he touches the scarf in her hand, she drops it abruptly not wanting him to touch it at all now.

"Don't."

He stares at her long and hard, Adam's apple bobbing as their eyes lock. He shakes his head a tight smile on his face now and she wants to kiss that smug look right off his face. Wait.

What. What am I thinking?

The sound of his doorbell chiming breaks them free of this heated staring match, but not immediately he looks at her puzzled and is that something hotter, before slowly turning and walking towards the door.

"Hey, I think I left my scarf--"

A decidedly female voice sounds from the door and before she can second guess herself she grabs the discarded scarf from the ground and sashays over to the door. He looks completely surprised to see her walking over but barely reacts when she barrels next time, pulling the door open wider to see who's here to see them.

It's the new teacher that just moved into town, she hadn't yet been introduced to her but she'd heard nothing but bad things from the landlord. She was supposedly a man stealer.

"Oh! I didn't know you had a guest." The woman's gentle voice lifts in awe at her sudden arrival at the door.

"Here's your scarf." She thrusts the item fiercely at her, watching as the other woman jolts in surprise.

Du-sik looks curiously between the two seeming to feel the weird energy surging in the air.

"Miss Yoon this is--"

"Was that all you needed? We were in the middle of eating. He needs to regain his energy." She cuts him off, having no desire to be introduced to the other woman. The school teacher glances between the two of them being nodding slowly as if realizing something.

"Yes that was all. I'll leave you to your meals."

She watches as the school teacher disappears from sight, turning to walk back to the table.

"That was rude. Do you two have a problem with each other?"

Shrugging non-committally she pushes his porridge back across the space already digging into her own.

"Your meal will get cold. Stop saying nonsense and come eat."

He stares at her for a long time before retaking his seat and tasting the thick broth, she tries not to watch and wait for his reaction but it's probably a failure.

"It's delicious. I can't believe you made this."

Overlooking the backhanded compliment she hides her smile behind her spoon before looking up with a glare, "I'll never make it for you again." But it's an empty threat because she already made three containers worth in case he falls ill again.

"I'll turn off your electricity until you do."

She guffaws at the threat, grabbing the closest thing (a pen) and throwing it at him. It pings off his forehead and falls to the ground.

"Ow. That hurt."

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, no doubt her roommate asking about her whereabouts she had just suddenly disappeared out of nowhere after running out of the office. Swiping to open the phone she prepares for the onslaught of messages.

"---kiss it better."

She freezes at the words, dragging her eyes from the phone back up to his steady gaze. He's staring brazenly seemingly unashamed but the tint of red on his ears give him away, he's not at confident as he's pretending to be.

"What did you say?"

"I.....said you should kiss it better."

She has no clue what he's talking about but instinctively her eyes move down to his lips, blush pink and tempting they stand out on his pale skin. She wonders how they would feel under her own, if they would pucker up and press or bloom open giving her their sweet nectar. She wonders how many women he's kissed and if he's ever thought about kissing her.

"My forehead. I meant my forehead... because of the pen. I was just joking." He looks dazed now, still under her appraising gaze and she coughs swiftly moving her eyes and staring out the window.

"Mi-seon's looking for me. I should go."

Thankfully he doesn't comment on her running away again, he merely nods and collects their bowls.

"Thank you for the meal." She nods in response, her voice lost at the moment terrified of why she keeps coming here, what could she possibly want?

He walks her to the door, both of them dragging their feet and taking their sweet time.

"That was the worst part about not having parents."

She halts at his sudden confession, squeezing her fists tightly as she glances over at him.

"Not having anyone who cared when I was sick. It was never clearer how alone I was until those fleeting moments, there was no one to pat my back or bring me food or tell me I would be okay."

It's an ache she's used up, the ache of wanting something she'll never have. Years spent pretending she didn't miss her mother everyday. His honesty forces her own to the surface.

"That porridge was the one my mom used to make for me. I haven't made it since she...."

She doesn't finish her sentence but the look in his eyes tell her that she doesn't need to, he understands loud and clear.

"Thank you for making it for me. I'm honored." There is reverence in his voice as if he's never meant anything more in his life, it makes her heart tremble.

They don't speak anymore as she puts on her shoes and lays her bag across her body, reaching behind her he tugs the door open for her.

With a solemn nod she turns around ready to leave but a moment of temporary insanity makes her turn back and grab his shoulder for support, there's a look of genuine shock of his face before she leans onto the tips of her toes and presses her lips against his forehead.

Her cheeks are on fire as she draws back and his face looks painful from his red it is.

"You're going to be alright." With her last strand of courage she wraps her arm around and pats him on the back in comfort, his eyes are glossy and he looks years younger.

"I'm going."

She's aching to run but she walks away calmly until she's out of sight, throwing herself to the ground as soon as she turns the corner grabbing handfuls of her hair.

So much for being in control. Fuck.

#hometown cha cha cha #me again #i might be a bit obsessed #y'all know I love a little jelly cee #it gets the blood running #hong du shik #yoon hye jin

[nexyra]

RWBY's Love Language - Part 2

Hello friend ! I'm back at it with a second part and whatever character I can think of ! (Among which best boy Oscar because he deserves it, and also more adults)

Let's go !

***

Oscar Pine

So ! While I love Oscar with my whole heart, honestly guessing his Love Language is no easy feat. One thing for sure : touch isn't is thing even if it's how everyone else chose to communicate their love.

I saw a post a while back detailing how Oscar is always putting his hands up as a barrier when he's scared or uncomfortable and that makes me cry a little instead but it's true TT. Anyway...

In the latest volumes we've got quite a bit of comforting Oscar-talks but I have to wonder how much of that is due to Ozpin's influence really. As a result I've decided to settle on... Acts of Service or Quality Time ! This is based on a few details : when people are upset with him in one shape or form, Oscar was always very eager to prove himself useful, give some aspect of concrete help (such as cooking a Casserole, ringing any bell ?). Plus I imagine that's the exact brand of help his Aunt would have needed most on a farm. Added to that, he always seems fairly happy to be included, be with the others no matter what's going on. Training ? Yay ! A movie with Jaune & Weiss ? Smiling puppy look. Fancy party ? Shenanigans together ! So yea, I love seeing my boy loved and hugged but please everyone settle for the loving he's most comfortable with <3

“She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself! So do I.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought you guys would appreciate a hot meal after... spending all day looking for me, apparently.”

“No, it's okay. These past few days, I've been scared of the same things you were. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be... me. But I did some thinking, and I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Ozpin

For our favorite immortal wizard aka not quite dead Headmaster... I think the answer is rather obvious. When you're so careful with your words, but also so fiercely devoted to humanity, Words of Affirmation is a must. Ozpin constantly does his best to calm, to reassure. He's good at controlling the conversation and getting people where he wants... Except he more often than not use it to make them think and help them reach an healing ore motivating conclusion. This man is so insisten on giving and cultivating hope, so painfully aware of just how much words can change... There's no doubt in my mind that it's through these very same words that he tries to fight the darkness in others' mind, even when they don't want to let themselves be persuaded. And with some help from the farmboi, Ozpin is gaining in honesty and earnestness. And that can only help in giving comfort.

But to be honest... If you offer him a hug I doubt he'd refuse, and he definitely deserves one. Also therapy. For Oscar too. Everyone in therapy 2k21.

“Ruby. I've made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on this planet. But at this moment I would not consider your appointment to leader to be one of them. Do you?”

“It's not every day that friends are able to come together like this. Time has a way of testing our bonds, but it's nights like these that can help keep them stronger than ever. Nights like these are ones we'll never forget.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Arc. Your journey is far from over, and the same might be said for all of you. Unlocking your Semblance isn't the end. It can still grow and evolve. Providing you are willing to put in the work, who knows what could happen?”

- - - - - - - - - -

Emerald Sustrai

Now here I'm gonna go ahead and say that the way Emerald has been taught to express her love and the way SHE would rather preffered to be loved most likely do not align. At the side of someone like Cinder, and even Mercury who isn't exactly the most emotionally vulnerable person; the only brand of love that gets an easy pass is Acts of Service, and that's probably what Emerald is the most used to. I can go on a mission with you. I can help. We go right back to the "I can be useful" mentality and I'm not sure she's been shown any other way honestly. Let's be real though : if someone offered a hug or some gentle words ? She'd probably pout & fuss but I hardly doubt she'd object.

“I don't care about Salem! But I owe Cinder everything. You want to fight her that bad? Be my guest.”

“I just... Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things... But without her here, I don't know if what we're doing--”

“I've been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won't tell anybody.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Pyrrha Nikos

What's with everyone and dedicating their whole love toward just helping their teammates anyway they can ?! Stop ! But any way, you guessed it. I'm pretty sure one of Pyrrha's top way of showing love is Acts of Service, and nothing means quite as much to her as Quality Time. For someone who's been put on a pedestal and has a hard time relating to people; both touch and words can be a bit awkward. But if they're wrapped up neatly in a training session or semblance explanations ? Well that's already a more familiar area. Pyrrha gives her whole to her friends and those she cares about. And in exchange, if anyone can simply... be there and spend time with her... May it be at the ball or simply sitting in the courtyard... I'm sure our girl would be delighted.

“Jaune, you know if you ever need help, you can just ask.”

“I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise; but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place. But thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime.”

“I'll do it. If you believe this will help humanity, then I will become your Fall Maiden.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Qrow Branwen

If I say Gift Giving for the corvid, is someone gonna hit me ? Come on it's fun ! Okay, more seriously... I think this kind of love conversation is kind of a necessity for Qrow. With a semblance such as Bad Luck, making everything complicated... Qrow tries to keep his distance from those he cares about. And since he's an emotionally repressed (but caring) asshole on top of it... Well that kinda narrows down his option. You know what DOESN'T put anyone at risk but can still bring smiles on their face ? GIFTS. Shiny things, souvenirs from his missions all over the world to give to 2 smol nieces. Sounds safe right ? That said, as any good emotionally unavailable character in this show, I gotta say Qrow probably has a thing for helping out and making himself useful in relation to Oz, Tai or the rest of the inner circle. So you know what that means *whisper* Acts of Service.

That said ! When it comes to receiving some love back... Qrow probably likes everything he doesn't allow himself to have. Soft touches, loving & comforting words, spending time with a friend without his semblance making everything complicated... We know that's all he wants.

“You idiot. I know you didn't do this.”

“Look, pal, I'm not sure who you are, but you need to leave my niece alone.”

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good...”

- - - - - - - - - -

Clover Ebi

And among our newbies (and gone too soon) friends we have Clover ! Clover was a very good contrast to our dusty old crow but also a great help. Kind-hearted, perceptive and honest; he knew just how to put Qrow's self-loathing in his place and push him to give himself some credit. He always had a nice word or a joke for everyone, and visibly the rock of the Ace Ops : an expert a keeping the moral up and the mood companiable. Evidently, Words of Affirmation was his expertise. Had things gone differently, I'm sure we'd have had time for many more earnest and helpful conversations with this teal-eyed fisherman.

“It's a good thing they had someone to look up to and get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“I meant deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn't be where they are without you. You've had more of an effect on them than you realize.”

“We don't have to fight, friend.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Winter Schnee

And today in the "emotionally unavailable" category we have... Winter Schnee ! TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS PEOPLE ! Just - I would say look at Ruby but even she doesn't talk about her bad vibes... Nor does any of the "Words of Affirmation" peeps. Honestly what's wrong with y'all people ? Anyway Winter cares so much. Is it hidden behind professionalism and a stern *big sister* demeanour ? Sure. But it doesn't negate just how much she loves her closed ones. She's fiercely loyal, and even if she doesn't let her personal feelings get in the way of her duty and doing what needs to be done, no one is allowed to say she doesn't care. Countrary to Weiss, Winter doesn't seem as good nor as aware of the love that exists in simply *being* with people. Rather, she's dutiful and ready to help any way she can when given the chance. You guessed it, yet another Acts of Service kind of love... Maybe I'm doing this wrong XD. I'm on the fence about Words of Affirmation as well. Despite her standoffish looks, Winter has always been very open & reassuring during her discussions with Penny. But she's more stern when it comes to Weiss so I dunno x)

“I don't recall asking about your ranking, I'm asking how you've been. Are you eating properly? Have you taken up any hobbies? Are you making new friends?”

“You've grown up a bit, haven't you? You're not the little girl clinging to the family name anymore.”

“You can't just buy trust like everything else! You have to earn it!”

And that's it for Part 2 ! I might do some other characters if people suggest some but I don't have a pressing need to right now. I have many ideas of songs to apply to various characters however so that's prob what my next posts will consist of (or fun templates)

If anyone has tips to create RWBY gifs or links to download the eps in good quality I'll take it ! Good day everyone !

#rwby #oscar pine #emerald sustrai #ozpin #winter schnee #qrow branwen #clover ebi #pyrrha nikos #love language #fair game #love langauges

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 6

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 with a side of angst. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

He made it out onto the street, looking around him in all directions, heart sinking as he couldn’t see her anywhere.

Running his fingers through his hair, Billy continued scanning the crowded streets. No.... nothing. He grabbed his phone and dialled her number. She didn’t pick up. So he texted her.

“Angel, just saw you in the restaurant. I was there for a business lunch, really hope you don’t think there was anything else to it cos there wasn’t. Please - call me back or pick up when I call.”

He tried another couple of times including FaceTime but no, she definitely wasn’t picking up. Trying once more, he let it ring through to voicemail, and left basically the same message on there. He had no intention of returning to Madani and continuing lunch - too many awkward questions to face there apart from anything else - so he went back to his car, got in, slamming his hands down onto the steering wheel a few times before starting the engine, and driving back to Anvil.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You and your friend had only gone a few doors down to another restaurant, and luckily they had a table available. Once you’d ordered and had glasses of wine in your hands, your friend Karen had fixed you with a steely gaze and said, “Okay, give.”

She worked as a reporter at one of the big newspapers, and you hadn’t had the chance to catch up with her for a good few months. And you knew she wouldn’t let this go until she’d wrung all the juicy details out of you, so you took a big sip of wine and sighed.

Catching her up from the whole ex-boyfriend situation to the cocktail party and meeting your new love interest, through to becoming lovers and maybe thinking it could go somewhere, you finally got to today’s fiasco.

“So, literally as soon as we sat down, I look up and that big fucker’s walking in with some pretty girl and looking extremely comfortable with her!” You gave what could only be described as an angry growl, “I mean I’d sussed out from the get-go that he was a player, but ... uhhh!!!... how could I be so damn stupid to fall for his shit talk?!!! Telling me I was his girlfriend!!!” You blew out a big breath.

“And then...“ you switched to your fake “man” voice, “‘Oh, I got a job I’ll be on for the next couple of days, angel.’” Another angry huff from you. “Yeah, right, on a ‘job’...he was obviously gonna be ON her! For about 48 hours by the sound of it. Bitch! And he’s a fucking jerk.”

Once Karen could get a word in edgeways when your rant drew to a close, she said in a calming voice, “Honey, it sounds like you had a lucky escape. There’s a lot of them in New York, you know... fucking jerks, I mean.”

You felt your eyes welling up, but blinked the tears back fiercely, you weren’t going to cry over that stupid big douchebag. You pulled your phone out of your bag, “I mean, look! Look at what he literally put in my phone yesterday evening...” and, ignoring your notifications for the moment, you scrolled to Contacts and turned the phone towards her.

Karen rolled her eyes, “Urrrghh, how lame is that? ‘Your Boyfriend’?” shaking her head. Even though you were furious at him, you felt a twinge of annoyance at her comment. You’d thought it was quite cute. Well, you had before that little shitshow. Then she put her face closer to the screen, “Hey, wait a minute!.. lemme see his photo?”

You handed the phone to her, and she peered at the image. “Oh my god,” she breathed, looking up at you, “...what’s your guy’s name?” “Billy Russo,” you spat back, loath to even voice it. She handed you the phone back. “Well, that’s just damn spooky,” she said, looking amazed. She leant in to you, “I’ve been seeing a guy for a couple of months, his name’s Frank,” and your mouth dropped. “Billy’s got a friend called Frank!” you said, staring at her. She nodded, “Yep, works at Anvil which is owned by the one and only Billy Russo!”

She sat back, taking a long sip of her wine. “What a freaking coincidence this is,” she shook her head. “Frank’s told me a little about him, you know and I’m afraid you’re right - he sounds like a total player.” She looked at you sympathetically, “Sorry.” You waved a hand in the air, “Nothing I hadn’t guessed for myself, Karen. But... he seemed so sincere.” You laughed self-depracatingly, “I was gonna be the one who tamed the bad boy. Huh!!”

You scrolled through the notifications, realising they were all from Billy. “I think he must’ve seen me! He’s called and texted.” You read the text, huffing and showing it to Karen, who raised her eyebrows and commented, “Nice recovery, Russo.” “The voicemail’s the same,” you said, as you listened to it. “What a load of bullshit. I mean, c’mon, who walks a business lunch date to the table with his hand on her back?”

Karen nodded, “No-one, unless they wanna get slapped with a lawsuit.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy slammed his office door behind him, and threw himself into his chair, tapping out a staccato rhythm on his desktop with a long finger. He reached down, opening his bottom desk drawer and taking out a bottle of whisky and a glass. A moment later, the door opened and Frank came in, looking concerned. He took in Billy’s less-than-immaculate hair, bouncing knee and tense demeanour.

Billy waggled the whisky bottle and quirked an eyebrow at him, but Frank shook his head.

“Okay, Bill, what’s up? Something go wrong?” Billy looked up at him, scowling ferociously, “Fuck yes!” he bit out, “Frankie... everything’s gone wrong.”

Before he could say anything else, Frank’s phone rang and he held a finger up to Billy to say he was going to take the call.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he answered it, “how’re you?” Billy heard a big outburst of indecipherable speech from the phone, and then saw Frank’s eyes flick over to him. “Oh, uhhh okay.. umm right, yeah he’s here. Yeah... yep, I’ll let him know. Will I see you later?” He smiled fondly as he went on, “Okay! That’s great, see you then.” He hung up, hand going to his jaw and running over his stubbled chin, looking worried.

“Bill...” he started, just staring at him and Billy stared right back, “What?”

Frank said a name to him, his angel’s name, and continued, “You know her?” Billy nodded, “Yeah, that’s my girl.” Frank plopped down into the chair across from him, “Not sure that’s the case now.” Billy nodded, “I know. That’s what I was about to tell you. I took Madani out to lunch and my girl was in the fuckin’ restaurant.” He shook his head, “She ran right outta there and I followed but couldn’t find her. So I headed back here. Left Madani sitting there in the restaurant.”

He poured a generous slug of whisky into the glass and knocked back most of it. “Now my girl’s mad at me and Dinah’s mad at me, and this operation could be down the tube.”

Frank sighed, rubbing his big paw over his face. “And Karen’s her friend, can you believe that? So she’s mad at you too. Fuckin’ hell, Russo.”

“Yeah,” said Billy, also sighing. “How the fuck am I gonna fix this?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Dinah Madani was not a happy bunny. She stomped into her office, yelling out “Sam!!!” as she went. He hurried in behind her. “Something wrong, Dinah?” She gave him a contemptuous look, “I see you’ve been working on your powers of observation. Well done! Yes, something’s wrong!” Sitting down behind her desk, she glared up at him, “Russo!!! That’s what wrong. That piece of shit.”

Inwardly, Sam laughed to himself. Despite Madani’s sarcastic gibe at his perceptiveness, he’d quickly realised as soon as Russo had popped up in this case that Madani had the serious hots for him. She thought she’d been getting somewhere with him, both on the case and personally, but now something must’ve put a spanner in the works on either one or both of those.

“What’s pretty boy done now?” he asked, trying and failing to completely hide his smirk. She scowled at him, “We’d gone out for lunch - to discuss the case,” she hastily added, and Sam thought to himself ‘yeah, right, and what were you hoping dessert was gonna be?’

“He spotted someone leaving the restaurant and off he goes, saying he’s got to catch up with them.” She viciously powered up her laptop. “Think it was a woman,” she mumbled. “Sorry, what?” said Sam innocently. “I said, I think it was a woman!” spat out Madani, “are you deaf or something?”

Sam smirked again, “Oh. Dear. Someone to do with the case, you think?” She stared at her screen, “How should I know? But that bastard’s got some explaining to do.”

Well this afternoon was gonna be a complete blast, thought Sam.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d returned to Chelsea, and spent the whole afternoon getting under your team’s feet in the café. Not wanting to sit and brood in your office, you’d busied yourself ‘helping them out’, when in fact they didn’t actually need any assistance. And you could sense you were vaguely irritating them. But you didn’t feel up to telling them what the problem was.

Eventually, you’d asked if one of them wanted the rest of the day off as paid leave, and Gabrielle had jumped at the chance. Her older sister had just recently popped out another baby, and she was keen to visit and fulfill her role as doting aunt.

The two guys had watched you warily for the rest of the day, in case all your nervous energy ended up causing some kind of coffee-shop catastrophe. You sent them off at the end of the day, saying you’d close up yourself. Which turned out to be a mistake. Looking vacantly out at the street, you closed and locked the door when they left, and that’s when you spotted the Wraith, parked diagonally opposite the café.

Resting your forehead against the cool glass of the door for a moment, knowing you should really have anticipated that this would be Billy’s next move when you didn’t respond to his attempts at contacting you. Either turn up here or at your apartment. Not difficult to work out. You got the fright of your life as the doorway suddenly darkened, and long legs clad in suit trousers and a pair of shiny black shoes appeared in your line of vision. You’d jumped back in surprise and Billy leant one one arm on the door, staring in at you and mouthing “Please?” at you, followed by (you thought), “I just wanna explain.”

You’d looked away from his pleading eyes, contemplating what you were going to do. Let him in, don’t let him in. You couldn’t deny you wanted to hear his explanation. In all its no-doubt manufactured glory. So, heaving a big sigh, you unlocked the door and immediately walked away to the counter, leaving him to actually open the door and walk in. A small victory, you thought. You hadn’t actually let him in after all. Sort of.

“Coffee?” you asked over your shoulder. “Please.” You made an Americano for him, and a caffé corretto for yourself. You weren’t too fond of grappa, so topped up the espresso with some brandy. Billy, who was leaning on the counter watching you, raised an eyebrow at you. “Ooh, that bad, huh? Can I get some too?” You just stared at him, and he added, “Please?” so you added a shot to his coffee and handed it to him.

Sipping your own strong and bracing beverage, you leaned back against the unit behind you, face neutral, waiting. He took a long drink of his fortified coffee, eyes never leaving yours. He carefully placed the cup back into the saucer, leaning his arms on the counter and looking back up at you, the tip of his tongue swiftly moving over his bottom lip.

“I know you’ll probably think this is total bullshit, but I promise you it’s not,” he said into the silence. You nodded, “Mmhmm.” His eyes drilled into yours, sincerity shining out of them, “That was purely a business lunch. She’s a Homeland agent, and Frankie and I are... in the middle of something with that agency. I can’t tell you any of the details... yet. I’m sorry.”

You huffed out a long breath. “Firstly, Billy, since when does a business lunch entail walking the woman to a table with a hand on her back?” He winced, but you weren’t finished, “And right now, to me, the only thing you looked like getting into the middle of was her.” This time he flinched back from the venom in your voice, but he maintained eye contact with you.

“Angel, I swear to you... On. My. Life. There is nothing and will never be anything between me and Agent Madani.” So.... Agent Madani, your brain rolled the words around your mind. “We’re in a joint operation with them, and I need to make sure she doesn’t drop us out of the loop, they’re good at doing that.”

“And how’re you doing that, Billy? With ‘business lunches’, with lots of flirting? She got the hots for you, hmmm Billy? Yeah? So, ultimately with sex? Keep her really sweet?”

Damn, you knew you’d hit the nail right on the head. His face had flushed, guilt written all over him and he’d slid back on the counter slightly. You’d like to bet that If he hadn’t met you, that’s exactly what would’ve happened. Maybe he’d just not got that far down his timetable with her yet.

You stared intently into his eyes, “Slept with her yet, Billy?” He straightened up to his full height, looking down at you, a strange distant expression in his eyes. “No, angel, I haven’t. And I can’t deny what you’ve just said. That was the plan. Me and Frankie need to know what information and leads she’s got. Yeah, she’d like to fuck me, she’s made that pretty obvious. But we hadn’t quite got to that stage yet.” He took a deep breath, and said in a rush, “We had a drink after work one night, and I kissed her.”

“Uhuh. Did you.” Statement, not question, folding your arms over your chest.

“Before we met!” he hastily added, emphasising the ‘before’, “...it happened days before we met. And it was purely business to me. Nothing more.” “Really? She’s pretty hot.” You could tell he spent a split second thinking how best to reply and keep his balls intact at the same time. “Well, yeah she is... but the spark’s not there for me. She doesn’t float my boat. Not like you do.” You smirked, good answer Russo!

“So what would your schedule have been?” He looked at you, puzzled, “What d’you mean?”

“Flirt, tick. Kiss, tick,” you made little air ticking motions with your finger. “Fuck...? Now, just when would that’ve been on the table, Billy?” He looked away from you, shaking his head, “I dunno. Whenever it would’ve been necessary.” Glancing back at you, “Look, I know this sounds really...” “Shitty?” you supplied. He allowed himself a small grin, “Yeah, shitty,” then the grin dropped. “But this is life and death, angel, and it means finally clearing our names as long as it all goes down okay.” You decided to spare Billy the verbal barb which had popped effortlessly into your head, along the lines of ‘would it depend on who went down on who?’

But you didn’t, instead saying. “Oh right, that’d be clearing your name from when you and Frank got arrested by Homeland, yes?” Billy gave you a hint of a smile, “So, you have been digging after all.”

You nodded, “Yes, I have. Not that I found out much. The dead CIA guy, him having funded you, you guys getting arrested. That was pretty much it.” He nodded, “That’s the bare bones of it, the important parts though. I promise you that as soon as I can, I’ll tell you the whole sorry story. We’re still right in the... it’s all still goin’ on right now.”

You smirked to yourself, you knew he’d changed what he’d been about to say as he was saying it, in case you took another dig at him about exactly what he was in the middle of.

He moved round the counter, and stood next to you. His dark eyes looked huge as they stared into yours, “I promise you, angel, you’re the only woman I’m interested in. The only one I want to be with. Please say you believe me.” The annoying thing was, you did. You didn’t like what he’d told you - that basically if you hadn’t been on the scene he’d have slept with Madani to keep her ‘on side’ - but you did believe that he hadn’t had sex with her. You thought that the small snippet of her body language you’d observed had screamed ‘I want him’ but not the casual touching and languid looks of ‘I’ve had him’.

You gave a big sigh. “Okay, Russo, I believe you.” A look of pure relief crossed his face, and he immediately grabbed both of your hands, pulling you close and kissing you hungrily. You pulled away after a few moments, just as he was trying to deepen the kiss. “But you’re on parole for a while.” He groaned, which became a laugh, “Okay, yeah... whatever you want, angel. For however long you want. I guess I deserve some punishment.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After closing up, you and Billy crossed the road and headed towards his car. He beeped his car remote at it as he approached and then opened the passenger door for you. As you folded yourself into the seat, he put one arm on the door frame and leant in to kiss you again. “Sneaky,” you said as you moved your lips away from his. “Always,” he replied and smiled widely at you. He seemed very happy to have been granted ‘parole’, you thought.

As Billy drove off in the direction of his place - realising this produced a part-exasperated smirk on your face - you contemplated what a fucking awful, emotional, but ultimately good day you’d had.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Someone else was stewing about precisely the same thing. Only without the good ending.

Dinah Madani had a furious scowl on her face as she put her SUV into Drive and pulled out into the traffic flow, following Billy’s car.

She’d just watched that whole little pantomime as he’d opened the car door for that woman, then leant in and obviously kissed her, although she hadn’t been able to actually see that from her vantage point a couple of cars behind his.

When she’d followed Billy from Anvil out to Chelsea earlier on, for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why he’d headed into a coffee shop, of all places. She’d discovered that she couldn’t see into the café from where she was parked, and didn’t want to break cover and walk over to the window in case Billy spotted her.

Then out he’d trotted, hand in hand with whoever this woman was - a waitress in a coffee shop? “Classy, Russo, very classy,” she said out loud, in a bitchy voice. She could ask him about it, she thought, but knowing him he’d more than likely tell her it was none of her business.

Well, she was going to make it her business to find out whatever she could about this apparent liaison of his. She pulled over and watched as his car disappeared into the underground carpark of his apartment block.

It could have some bearing on the case, she thought, trying to justify this course of action to herself.

She ignored that other little voice in her head which said to her that she was just plain jealous.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

[shadowsfascination]

Shadamy oneshot| Free me of myself

Trigger Warning: see end notes.

The warmth of heavy breaths against a thick, wide and curved, cold window briefly stuck on the glass. The repeating cycle of condense licking the glass like soot to the window pane of a wood stove to evaporate as quickly as it had appeared was mesmerizing in a strange way. Then again: this entire scenery was.

From the sharp contrast of the cool metal floors and walls with their blue and greenish tones to the warmth and fierce illumination from the sun onto the planets. From the horrifying atmosphere inside with haunting memories clinging to his throat to the breath-taking spectacle outside.

Both aspects took his breath away and both endeavoured swallowing him inside their mighty-strong vibes, consuming him and lift him out of his body. Although their tones couldn’t be further away from one another, either of them had a traction so strong it reminded him of an approaching tsunami. One that’s still building up its’ devastating fortitude before it’d curl over him and swill away everything on its’ path.

This place was one of the very few things capable of leaving him frozen. Every time he came here it happened. And yet he kept coming back. He had to. Felt obligated to. Wanted to. Yes, a part of him longed to be swallowed entirely by the darkness and relive the events that haunted him to this very day. The feeling grew on him particularly around this time of the year.

Overcome by a returning urge to pay off his debts and right his mistakes, being plagued by this gruesome guilt felt like it needed to be done. It was the only darn thing he could do; be here and endure all of it; the depression, agony, indignance, failure, grief and self-loath. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

If only it were useful. If only it could bring you back.

But it wasn’t and it would never change being like this, for she was gone- forever. It left Shadow to be standing lifeless on the ARK. His open palms pressed against the glass while all he could do was breathe in and out again, eyeing the condense on the window. The sensation of the cold glass against his hands was the only thing keeping him grounded by now.

Every year when he paid this cursed place a visit it he heard her voice just when he was on the edge of giving in to the menacing shadows that tainted his past. As bright, gentle and hopeful as no other, the sweetness of her voice invited him to step out of the shadows, into a shower of light. With a single effort she freed him of the relentlessness he felt towards himself, blaming himself for her death.

But not this year.

There only was the mundane silence that was usual for this place. An insecure frown curved his brow and he squinted his eyes when he shifted his glance towards the light of the sun. The view on the planet of fire, when seen from the colony, was accompanied by many halo’s, each of them reflecting the constantly changing spectrum of colours upon the rays of light. They seemed capable of catching you and dragging you into space if you stared into them for too long.

With a dull glance in his crimson orbs, Shadow gazed out the very window Maria and he frequently had watched the blue planet, always dreaming of the day they’d set foot on it together. A renewed sadness whirled inside him, churning his stomach to the point where it nauseated him and clenched his open palms into fists.

He hoped to feel her presence here. He desperately longed for it; the one that always changed the hurricane whirling inside him on the day of her death into a much gentler breeze. Every year since he had awakened he came here and every year he’d felt something of her, something that allowed him to carry on. On an unconscious note his friend, while having passed a long time ago, still had the capacities to change his mind. There were only few he could give credit to when it came to that.

Have you… forsaken me, Maria?

Shadow’s pulse accelerated to a crazy high pace, even for the ultimate lifeform and he sank down to his knees. While his heart thumped against the insides of his chest so fast it felt like it would burst through, he cried. The thought of his first friend rejecting him even after she passed literally just hurt so bad! The pain cramped his chest together and he struggled to breath.

Sudden acoustics, her voice without doubt, called out to him on the abandoned colony, a whisper with the impact of a scream.

‘Shadow, it’s time for you to let go of me.’

“You’re wrong! I will always keep remembering you! It’s the only thing I can do…”

He pictured her bright blue eyes and friendly smile in front of him. Tightening every muscle in his body he forcefully attempted to transfer image of her into a physical presence, into reality. The line between his messed up mind, memories, wishes, dreams and reality grew thinner by the minute. He was almost certain she was here, almost able to see her. Almost.  If only he tried a little harder.

‘It’s time you stop blaming yourself, Shadow. I don’t want to see you like this. Please, let go of the past for there’s others who need your help now. You will only imprison yourself if you keep looking for me and my sacrifice will be left in vain. Remember why you were created Shadow. It’s the key to your freedom.’

The voice slowly extinguished, dying out into the darkness to be replaced by a suppressed, wheezy howl. Shadows’ cries were abruptly disturbed by an extremely loud bang elsewhere on the colony, a crash that shook the ARK in a rough way. Normally the alarm would have sound, but Shadow had turned off the electricity. He did that sometimes when he felt gloomy, feeling it added to his mood.

After wiping his tearstained face he rose and turned towards the elevator, prepared for anything and nothing all at once. He was NOT in the mood to fight. Still, there were a lot of strong, negative emotions to fuel his strength. Even so, his mentally unstable state of mind switched between the urge to conquer any opponent and the thought of willingly getting killed. They battled for precedence inside him and he was unsure which one would win.

“Sweet Chaos! Shadow!?!”

The black and red striped hedgehog couldn’t decide which of their faces looked more awestruck when they regarded each other; Amy’s or his own. He flinched and stiffened up when she took a few steps towards him, the sound of the heals of her boots clanking on the metal floors. She noticed and didn’t pursue, trying to lock her eyes with him, but his gaze went right through her. Eventually he turned around walked up to the window again, wishing to escape both her presence around and gaze upon him. Amy followed his lead and joined his stargazing.

Ever since Shadow and she became more acquainted with one another, they discovered they were quite compatible as friends and hung out more often. The two hedgehogs appreciated the other’s pureness, call it a rawness if you will. He respected her and accepted her for who she was; the good, bad and the ugly. Amy’s assertiveness, strength and straight-forward attitude were highly valued by Shadow. Even though his confidence barely ever seemed to be shaken, it was clear that was the occasion tonight. Shadow heaved a sigh.

“Tell me how you got here.” He finally said.

“Hey, if Knuckles can fly a rocket here, I figured I could too. So, I broke into one of Eggman’s old bases and took the liberty of borrowing one.”

Shadow rolled his eyes on her.

“You’re crazy, you know that? You could’ve gotten hurt with no one around to save you.”

“I made it, all right?! I’m more concerned about you right now.”

His bloodshot, red eyes met her emerald ones for a moment and then the moment was gone.

“I’m fine. Just wished you hadn’t come up here.”

“Shadow, I’m worried about you! I know what today is…”

“I said I didn’t wanna hang out tonight. HECK, I EXPLICITLY told you I wanted to be alone tonight. And yet here you are, forcing yourself on me when I asked you not to. Ever heard of boundaries?”

“Fine, I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“No, you’re staying now. I can’t have peace of mind when I know your safety might be compromised when flying a rocket back to the planet on your own.”

“You’re saying you had peace of mind before I came here? I’m not stupid, okay?”

“I wasn’t. That’s why I wanted to be alone. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Well it does now, since you’re making me stay.”

He shrugged and shifted his gaze back to the countless stars in the never-ending shades of different blue’s that coloured the heavens. Shutting himself off from Amy and the ARK, his heart ached for a hint of Maria out there. Even if it were a last goodbye, but the closest thing he could find was the disapproval his childhood friend would’ve had regarding his rude attitude towards his friend now.

“Does her presence still linger around this place?” Amy dared ask after a long silence.

“It used to, at least on this day.”

“It doesn’t anymore?”

“She… told me to move on, let go of her. Or at least that’s what entered my mind when I sought her.”

 Normally Shadow would have hesitated to tell anyone about any of this, feeling it didn’t go with his down-to-earth attitude. Amy was the exception on this to him. She strongly believed in a connection between the visible and the invisible so he need not to fear being laughed at. He figured she’d be able to understand the visions he’d had of Maria and how he’d heard her voice.

“Anything else?” She asked like it was any other ordinary topic.

“That I should stop blaming myself. I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I want to. It’s the last thing I have of her.”

“What is?”

“The guilt I can cast upon myself.”

“Shadow…”

Amy’s eyed filled with a compassionate sadness. She reached out to him to rest a hand on his shoulder. When he did not protest, she stepped in and carefully enclosed him from behind in a warm embrace.

It puzzled her that Shadow usually wasn’t fond of physical contact and yet this was the second time she hugged him like this. The first time was on Prison Island, when silly 12-year old her had mistaken him for Sonic. He never showed a sign of discomfort or tried to shake her off. They stood there for a while, his arms hanging limp along his numb body.

“Maria’s right.” Amy said. “It’s long time for you to let go of that guilt. You’re not to blame for anything that happened here.”

“I’m the reason why they flew up here to shut down the facility. I’m the reason she’s dead.”

“No, G.U.N. is. They’re the ones who conducted these crimes. Their terrible policy and way of handling the situation is the reason she’s dead. There’s no excuse for the way they misinterpreted and poorly handled the situation. There’s no excuse, no explanation good enough for killing the people up here the way they did. And…”

Amy bit her lower lip and hesitated for a moment.

“I don’t know if you’ll agree with me, but Maria chose to free you. She might’ve been able to save both of you or herself instead.”

“Are you saying it’s her fault for getting shot?” Shadow sneered at her.

“I’m not. Just saying she did what she did and with that she left you no choice. You can’t be guilty for something you had no hold on. It was out of your control. She freed you because she knew the reason behind your creation. She knew your potential, Shadow. It was her choice, not yours. There’s no point in punishing yourself now.”

She hugged him tighter and rested her head on his shoulder. With Amy’s words still echoing on in his head, a vague, translucent image was drawn before his eyes. Maria. Shadow wondered if it was a figment of his imagination and whether Amy was able to see her too. The blonde girl smiled a serene smile of hope and reached out to him, covering his hands in hers. A pleasant tingling radiated from them, reassuring him that his pink friend was right.

Maria regarded Amy for a second and gave her a warm smile. Then the blue of her eyes and the dress she always wore faded into the darker blue of the starry skies, leaving them behind. It was just Shadow and Amy now. She still held him and he let her.

“Did you see…?”

“I did. I saw her too.”

Shadow now freed himself of her embrace to face her. The storm clouds that were reflected in his eyes before had vanished. With a new peace of mind, the kind he’d never experienced before, he cleared his throat.

“Bless you for being such a stubborn, persistent soul, Amy Rose.”

“No biggie, we’re friends. I got your back and I’m sure you’ve got mine.”

He gave her a single, yet assuring nod.

“Let’s leave this place. Whadd’ya say?”

“I wanna fly the rocket. I think I really got the hang of it!”

“You seriously expect me to believe that after the ever-so-graceful landing you performed here earlier?”

 “Hey- …I!- That was a rough patch, okay?!”

 “Understatement! You almost shook the ARK out of its’ orbit. I bet you wrecked the place.”

Shadow cocked a brow at her before giving her a playful push. She snorted when she eyed him. Amusement sparkled in his eyes at the thought what the heck of a ride it must have been on that rocket, giving her awful piloting skills. It was another ridiculous outcome of her impulsive nature. The two burst into laughter, their cackling echoing on throughout the colony.

With Amy already in his arms to warp them back home Chaos Control-style, he glanced back at the window. The translucent vision of his childhood friend respawned again. He felt this was their final parting and for the first time, he’d made his peace with that. She waved them goodbye before dissolving into the background, sending off millions of stars into a meteor shower. Her calm, gentle voice resounded throughout the universe for the last time:

 Sayonara, Shadow the Hedgehog.

_____________________________________

Trigger Warning [SPOILERS?!]: - suggestive suicidal thought (No actual suicide or attempt) - mental struggles (trauma, grief, losing touch of reality, feelings of desperation, depression, anxiety) - eventual happy ending > Please message me if you think I need to adjust something in the TW. First time using it. Better safe than sorry (:

If you’re struggling with mental health problems or suicidal thoughts or even plans: seek help! Even if it seems useless to you and I imagine it will. There’s lines you can call and people out there who will listen to you. Google them in the area where you live. I know it’s a good starting point to get help.  

______________________________________

Notes

I wanted to do a short story on Shadow’s and Amy’s friendship and how she’ll help him cope with the loss of Maria. I believe that Amy’s headstrong, yet endearing sweet personality allows her to change Shadow’s mind sometimes like we have seen in SA2 before.

#shadamy #shadamy oneshot #shadow and amy #amadow #shadow the hedgehog #Amy Rose #Amy Rose the Hedgehog #friendship #space colony ark #ark #g.u.n. #maria robotnik #sonic fanfiction #shadamy fanfiction #shadamy fanfic #Shadowsfascination #my story #feels #coping #mental struggles #eventual happy ending #closure #loss #grief

[vampirepiggyhunterdefensesquad]

personal space 2/2

Zim laughed, a lot, as they dumped a ton of water onto the crowd. Screams and shouts rang out from below. Gaz only felt a tinge of sadness when she remembered why she wanted to go in the first place.

The little alien's laughs died down and he gave her a suspicious look.

"HEY."

"What?" Gaz was startled.

"Why are you angry."

There he went, paying attention again. It was bizarre.

"I'm not angry, I just wish I'd have gotten one of those consoles before we drenched and ruined them all," she admitted.

"Oh, the thingies that all those filthies wanted?" Zim smirked. "Little Gaz, you underestimate me."

There was a pause.

"What--"

"BEHOLD!!!" From underneath the dashboard of the ship, the alien yanked a big, lumpy bag. "For I, ZIM, is amazing and great and, eh, I knew you would want them so I stole a bunch before we even left."

Gaz's eyes widened. She blinked silently. The only sounds that could be heard were the screams of agony from the humans and the splashing of water.

Zim fidgeted uncomfortably, holding the bag out further. Dropped it in her lap.

"Do you not. . . Didn't. . . HEY!! What's wrong with you???" he demanded. Gaz, ignoring him, opened the bag. He had grabbed four consoles. They looked totally undamaged. How had he snagged them under her nose like that? Why had he grabbed them for her?

"Yes, yes, they are there!! Act, i dunno, happy or something!!" He folded his arms, pouting. "Stupid human, doesn't even--"

Gaz dropped the bag on the floor and leapt forward awkwardly, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for a tight hug. He made a little squeaky noise as she pressed her face into his neck, burrowing into the embrace.

His arms found her back, patting her desperately. One clawed hand went to her hair and stopped there, gently touching it. Gaz felt Zim's own head drop down onto hers, and heard him let out a deep, contented sigh.

She meant to hug him quickly and pull away, but the way Zim had responded made her tighten her grip without realizing. Having her ear against his neck made her realize there was a very soft purr rumbling from deep down inside him. His hand was actually stroking her hair at this point, and the other was rested against her lower back. It felt so, so nice. The sounds of the screams just made her feel more at home. This was. . . safe. This was nice.

Zim let out a very, very soft purr, and she felt him rub his cheek against her hair, back and forth quickly, like a cat.

Gaz's eyes popped open. This was WEIRD. Her arms shot back and she tumbled backwards, face red as a tomato.

"Thank you!" she yelled.

Zim's eyes, which had been as big as saucers, took on a manic vibe. "IT WAS NOTHING!!"

"We should probably go back to your base now!!!!"

"PERFECT!!! I AGREE!!!!"

Despite the wobbling in her legs, Gaz managed to find her seat again and slump down, covering her face with her hoodie. Zim, by contrast, sat bolt upright, fiercely grabbing the navigational tools and directing the voot cruiser back home.

Gaz didn't show her face the rest of the ride. Even her enjoyment of the flight was almost ruined by the fact that she wanted to do it again. Would she be able to ask him to do it again? Would that be safe?? Wait, why wouldn't it be safe???

Zim's remarkably uptight pose did not flinch until they landed, at which point he hopped up, stepped aside, and offered her a salute. Gaz's face burned as she tossed the bulky bag over her shoulder and climbed out of the ship.

"That was. . . . not insufferable," she managed, still not looking at him.

Even in her peripheral vision, she could see Zim's face light up spectacularly. He also was avoiding looking her way, but instead of being subtle about it, he was staring directly at the ceiling.

"YES. IT WAS ACCEPTABLE." he replied. "It would also be acceptable if we were to. . ."

"To do it again, sometime?"

"YES!" He cleared his throat. "I mean, yes."

"Cool."

"C. COOL."

Gaz fidgeted. She scratched her chin with her free hand.

"Okay, I'm leaving now."

"Oh. All right!" Zim saluted again, then seemed to realize he was saluting and immediately hid his hands behind his back. He made that stupid face that she used to enjoy seeing so much.

Man, it had been a while.

"You, uh, never told me why you were following me."

"I told you!!" he snapped. "I wasn't!!!"

"Okay, but why?"

He blinked and lowered his eyes. Suddenly, Gaz realized she'd ruined his mood somehow. She didn't want mopey, sad Zim. She wanted him fidgety, and saluting-then-trying-to-hide-it, and blushy.

"Nevermind. It doesn't matter," she said quickly. "It was nice to see you, Zim."

He froze, went completely, utterly still. Zim's eyes bugged out as he looked at her.

Gaz smiled, and he blinked rapidly, not believing what he was seeing.

"What?"

"I said, it was nice."

"I. Yes? It was. . . . hehhhh?"

He looked so ridiculous, grasping for something to say, and still not knowing, that Gaz decided she wanted to do something probably quite stupid.

She stepped a little closer.

"If you want to come over and play one of these sometime, you totally can."

"I. . . your base?" Zim looked like he was going to pass out, but not in a bad way. Gaz edged closer.

"We could play something together."

As an experiment, she'd let her voice drop a half-octave. His antennae popped up, so it seemed like he'd noticed.

"It. .  ." he swallowed audibly. "It would not be fair, defeating the Gaz-human would come too easily to a superior irken like myself."

She leaned in a bit.

"Sure about that?"

Now Zim was openly staring at her lips, unable to direct his gaze anywhere else. He looked like he was trying to talk, but nothing came out.

"Zim?" Gaz had dropped her voice to a whisper, and his eyes snapped to hers.

"I would like to be," He licked his lips. "I would like to be reassured that you are. This? Is what it seems like? I am unfamiliar with your customs, but--"

"You followed me today."

It wasn't a question. Zim's face looked very hot, as several beads of sweat popped onto his forehead, and he nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"You noticed I was freaking out, and you helped me."

"Yes," he admitted, very very quietly.

"I want to thank you for that."

"No thanks is necessary!!" he exclaimed. "I--"

"The hug was a thank-you for the game system," she whispered. "Can I give you a different kind of thank-you for helping me?"

Zim's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. "D-different? A different kind of--"

"Just say yes, Zim."

"Ye--"

Gaz leaned forward a little more, giving Zim a soft kiss right beside his mouth.

She pulled back quickly, looking for some, any sort of disgust in his face, any reason she should back off completely, but everything in his face was unconcealed adoration. Suddenly unable to handle it, Gaz began to take a step back, but Zim's arms shot out and gripped her sides with the same strength he had earlier.

"What about the water?" he demanded.

"What??"

"What about a thank-you for the outing? You would never have been able to soak those filthies without MY help and MY technology. Does ZIMMMM not deserve an appreciative gesture for that as well???"

"You." Gaz's face felt like it was on fire, but not in the same way it had been in the auditorium. That was discomfort, and frustration, and a fire of anger deep inside where she couldn't let it out. This fire was not completely unrecognizable, but definitely stronger than she'd ever felt it. "You want another. . . appreciative gesture?"

"Yes."

Zim stared at her, face devoid of embarrassment. In fact, it felt like with that one motion, he'd transferred all the flusteredness onto HER instead.

Normally, anyone trying to get ANYTHING out of her would result in a sound beating. But something in her was screaming at the top of its lungs to give him another appreciative gesture. Gaz leaned forward, mechanically, but before she could reach him, Zim threw his arms up and around her shoulders and tugged her down further.

"Zim!!" Gaz squeaked, right before he met her halfway, kissing her directly on the lips.

It was just as fast as the first, with him letting her go directly afterwards. Gaz stumbled backwards, legs going jelly-like again, with her eyes completely blown wide open.

"Eh,, you." Zim was glaring at her now. arms tightly folded at his chest level, puffing himself up as tall as he could, standing at attention again. "You may see yourself out of my incredible base, I have important duties to see to right now immediately. Have an acceptable rest of your day, Gaz-human, and I will see you next time my plans of doom have reached a point when I have free time and can indulge myself in the horrible-ness of your earthly video games."

Through this entire speech, Gaz had stood still, just looking at him. He had grabbed her, and he had kissed her, and she should be murdering him right about now. Why wasn't she killing him? This was too awkward to bear.

"Bye," she managed to say, grabbing the bag and fleeing out the door.

Curse him, she wouldn't be able to leave the house for a week waiting for him to swing by. It only occurred to her once she had gotten home and flopped facedown on her bed that he didn't even have her phone number.

#zagr #writing #mine #zim #gaz #i created this thing

[scribbleb-red]

Neil is a lying liar who lies AU

A Morning AU - with a fab prompt from @djhedy

There’s a new boy in Andrew’s class and there’s something not quite right about him. He’s mouthy and sharp, the kinda kid that should end up in detention three times a week but never does.

They are seven years old, though the new kid looks five, with eyes like a wide open sky. 

He is very pretty - that’s why Andrew notices him first - he looks like a fairy prince. 

And it’s because Andrew is watching that he notices though: the kid is a big bad lying liar who lies. 

The day he joined, the kid said his name was ‘Stefan’ to Mrs Stewart and ‘Chris’ to Mr Brasenose. The next day he was just ‘Neil’ and was given a fond, exasperated warning to keep his make believe in the playground. 

 But the kid didn’t stop lying.

Some lies were big and others were small. 

On a Tuesday, Neil announced that he’d had a huge feast for breakfast - listing all the foods and making everyone’s mouth water with the descriptions. (But Andrew saw how he winced nd held his stomach like it was empty.)

On a Thursday, Neil said he grew up in England and proceeded to spend the next week speaking in a post English accent. (But he later admits at lunch it was just a couple months).

On a Friday, Neil whispers that his house is haunted and he’s scared to go home for the weekend. (There’s a little too much truth shining through those eyes as he talks about the ghost in his house. Andrew doesn’t doubt that he’s scared of something).

The following Monday, Neil explains his bruises by saying he spent the week learning to skateboard. 

“My cousin visited and let me use her skate board. It was pretty rad.” 

(Andrew eyes the split lip, it could be true. But then he sees the hand shape around Neil’s thin wrist and knows the truth: it’s a lie.)

Through it all, Andrew is very quiet and very alone. He knows how this goes - he’s seven years old with more cracks in his heart than a fifty year romantic - but he kinda enjoys Neil’s lies and how he gets away with them.

He particularly likes the outrageous ones: 

My father parachuted into Paris because he’s a spy. He died landing on the Eiffel Tower. I once wrestled a monster. I won but it stole all my mom’s apples. I’m telling the truth. My tongue goes green when I lie. I met Kevin Day.

Andrew won’t pretend he’s not intrigued. He thinks Neil is interesting and his lies are ones he can often hold in the dark, imagining over and over when he’s hurt and wishing to be anyone, anywhere but here.

Plus Neil is funny - he always snarks at the teachers and gets away with the most ridiculous things. Other kids always want to play with him because his games are brilliant - epic journeys, castles and wizards, magical tigers, patchwork villains made from the skin of children. 

Some of Neil’s tall tales are part fairytales, part nightmares.  And Andrew isn’t sure which part Neil actually belongs to. There are times where he’s the brightest, prettiest boy on the playground. And times where his eyes are haunted, mouth wicked cruel. And then there are times like today, where Neil is quiet and blank - a little too familiar to what Andrew sees in the mirror these days, looking like someone has scooped out his insides and left nothing but darkness behind in its wake. 

Andrew almost talks to him then. 

Almost.

But he doesn't. Not for another few weeks. Not until Neil's facing down Greg Doyle - the fight has the vibe of a hissing kitten against a rottweiler. 

 There's no way Neil can win. Greg is a third grader and big beside. 

But Neil doesn't look scared. He looks ferocious.

Not that appearances are going to help. Neil could have the sharpest claws of them all and he'd still weigh nothing against Greg. Neil dodges and ducks the first few blows. He snipes and snarks, that liar's mouth rattling off stories of how he took down a SWAT team once.

But dumb luck can’t do everything and finally Greg gets a thump in, straight across Neil’s jaw - hard enough to make him stagger. 

"So much for a SWAT team, fucking liar." 

There are gasps at the bad word from the growing first and second grade audience. 

"Tongue turns green," Neil says. He spits out blood.

Andrew's had enough when he sees the blood. 

Neil might be an idiot but Andrew knows that there's no way to win this one on alone He steps forward and puts himself between Neil and Greg. 

"Oooo who's this, your boyfriend?" 

Andrew would roll his eyes, but can't be bothered. He is the tallest kid in their year at nearly 4'5. He can look the nine year old Greg in the eye without trouble and he can see the bigger kid calculating his chances of taking Andrew on instead of the skinny little creature that was Neil "motor mouth" Josten.

"Back off," he says. He doesn't inflect. He watched a cartoon where a character spoke completely flat and it was really scary so he figures this might make Greg cower too. "Leave him alone."

Greg nearly steps into Andrew's space but someone has started a whisper: 

Andrew Doe is the kid who killed his parents. Andrew Doe is the kid that burned a house down. Andrew Doe is the kid who took on Bertie Becker from fifth grade and flushed his head down the loo.

It's the last one that gives away the source of these rumours - Neil has started a chain of Chinese whispers. And Greg hears them swirling from mouth to mouth, ear to ear, each more terrifying than the last. It makes Andrew want to grin, so he does. Greg actually whimpers.

The crowd laughs when Greg runs away - he can’t save face when he’s fleeing from a first grader. 

Andrew feels triumphant. 

 Especially when Neil steps up beside him, shy smile and summer sky eyes. “Thanks Andrew.” 

 Neil Josten knows his name, Andrew thinks. Wow wow wow.

Neil’s mouth is swollen but he’s still the prettiest boy in the playground so Andrew doesn’t say anything. 

“Want to play a game?” Neil says. 

 Andrew shrugs. 

 “Yes or no?” Neil says again. “I won’t force you but I’d like to play with you to if you’d like to play with me.”

Andrew thinks about it before saying yes. 

It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

*

They start with games - make believe quests and imaginary journeys. They visit magical worlds in their heads and fall about laughing when one of them (mostly Andrew) doesn’t break character even for class.

They become inseparable - two boys with home lives full of ghosts but dreams that can take them anywhere. The lying liar is the better story teller but the stoic hero a better actor. And sometimes in games they hide their truths - violent families and horrifying pasts.

Neil shows Andrew his scars, “I sometimes say they’re from a shark or ninjas and stuff but...” 

“That’s from an iron.” 

“Yeah.”

In turn, Andrew tells Neil about his foster family. 

“We could poison him,” Neil says. “I heard we can make poison from apple cores. Applesenic or something.”

If only it were that simple.

It happens just before the end of the year - summer is nearly there and Andrew can only imagine how fun it'll be having a friend to adventure with for the first time. And then he finds out that his foster family is getting rid of him. He'll be packed off at the end of term.

"I think mom and I will move too," Neil admits. "We never hang around anywhere long." 

"Because of your dad?" 

"Yeah..." Neil plays with the hem of his t-shirt. "He's in prison but mom is still terrified. She moves us a lot." 

"Maybe you can move to the same place as me."

They pretend that the world isn't going to split them apart. 

They pretend that they're going to have the summer together. 

And the year after. 

That they'll start middle school together. 

And be best friends all the way to the end of high school.

And go to the same college.

"We could play exy together all the way through," Neil says. It's his new obsession. 

"I'm not going to play stickball. I prefer playing games with you." 

"We can play games on the court. You can be the fierce dragon and I'll be the knight that looks after you."

"You'd steal all my dragon gold." 

"Would not." 

Andrew raises one eyebrow. 

"Okay, yes I would. I'd be the knight trying to take your gold. But I'd be sneaky about it." Neil's laughter is high and bright. "Does that mean you'll play with me?" 

"Yeah okay," Andrew says.

But it doesn't work out that way. 

Neil vanishes like sun behind a mountain the day after term ends. 

Andrew's bags are packed. He's dumped in a new home near the beach. He hates the beach. He misses Neil the way his lungs miss oxygen when he's stuck in the swell of a wave.

He does play exy though. 

He does it because he figures one day he'll find Neil on a court too. 

He'll either face him down or by some miracle they'll be on the same team. 

He'll find Neil again. He will.  

He tells himself this every day. 

Even when it feels like a lie.

*

Something like an epilogue

Years pass before Andrew hears anything about the little boy who - for two semesters when he was seven - was his best friend. So many years that if it weren't for one polaroid from a cheeky arcade photo-booth, he might have let the idea of Neil go.

But he keeps the photo with him - through home after home, through Cass and Drake and juvie and Aaron and Nicky. He hides it in books, folds it into pockets. Makes sure to hold onto Neil and the memories of those few happy months.

He plays exy. Keeps track of other teams and their players. The sport does nothing for him - but sometimes he closes his eyes and imagines Neil with his flashing blue eyes mischievous smile and that long ago conversation. He remembers why he's doing this.

At 13, he asks Pig Higgins to do a search on Neil's name but the policeman refuses. 

At 14, he goes through the entire directory for California and when that's exhausted, he starts searching every state from West to East. 

He calls 362 Jostens across the USA. None are Neil.

When he turns 16, he uses a fake and has two small dragons outlined on the top of his left shoulder. 

When he's 17 he meets Riko and Kevin Day. He remembers Neil once saying he'd met Kevin and wonders if that was true or just one of Neil's many many lies. He turns the Ravens down.

He signs two weeks later with the Palmetto State Foxes - taking his brother and cousin with him. 

He watches as the lists of drafted players on other teams go up. There's no Chris or Stefan or Abram - not with the matching face Andrew wants. There's no sign of a Neil Josten.

Andrew smooths out the photo at night, slipping it between the pages of Whitman's Leaves of Grass every morning. 

Maybe it's time to put the memory of Neil to rest, but he can't. 

Neil is one of those beautiful ghosts that he can't help but hold onto. The one unspoilt thing in his memory.

Unspoilt, that is, until a Monday when Kevin Day announces he's recruiting a nobody from a nothing town in the middle of nowhere Arizona and the nobody's name is Neil.

"Neil what?" 

"Josten. Want to see his tape?" 

"Nope," Andrew says. But his heart is a thunderdrum, hope cutting through the medicated hyper mania easy as a knife through butter. "Actually yes, gimme the tapes little birdie." 

Kevin grimaces at his nickname but says nothing until they’re watching the tape. And then he can’t shut up about the player’s potential, his speed and natural flare on the Court. 

It's not Andrew’s Neil. 

But it is too. 

The striker on the court is a brunette with dark eyes but he runs like Neil. He's ferocious and plays like it's the last thing keeping him afloat. He has that little flick of his racquet before he goes to score, a telltale that would never get passed Andrew but no one else seemed to have noticed. 

Andrew says as much to Kevin. 

"Exactly," Kevin says. "That's why we have to have him."

So they go to Millport. 

And Andrew knows Neil well enough to anticipate that he'll run. 

Knows him well enough to trip him with a racquet and catch him as he falls. 

Neil hasn't grown much either - he's still small and sharp and far too pretty to be real.

"Stupid little liar, you should watch where you put your feet." Andrew wishes he were sober. Wishes he didn't have to greet Neil with this grin splitting his face. 

Wishes wishes wishes. 

But his one wish has already come true, Neil is here with him. Warm and lithe and alive.

"Drew?" Neil says, but the word is choked and breathless. Neil’s voice does something to Andrew’s insides and Andrew feels the muscles beneath his hands warring between flight and relief. 

"Neil," he replies. 

"Oh my god, Drew." 

And then Neil's arms are around Andrew's shoulders, and his face is turning into his neck and Andrew realises they're hugging and he shouldn't want to hug back but he does. He does because it's Neil. His friend. His pipe dream. The little boy with the pathological need to lie and an imagination that could create whole worlds from a handful of dust. 

He hugs Neil tight. 

Never wants to let go.

Kevin of course ruins the moment. 

But Neil isn't going to say no to the Foxes. Not now. 

And even though Andrew can recognise the lies slipping passed Neil's lips, he doesn't tell Wymack. Doesn't call out his idiot's new ouchies. Doesn't answer any questions when Kevin demands answers.

"Sign," he speaks only to Neil. He means, Stay with me. "We can play a game. Yes or no?" 

"Yes," Neil says and his smile is a little wild, a lot wonderful. "Let's play a game."

The End.

#andreil #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #kind of a kid fic #morning au #andrew and neil meet in first grade #neil is a pathological liar #andrew thinks he's amazing #andrew has probably loved neil since they were seven in this #does that make them childhood sweethearts? #andrew is tallest in the class #neil is a mouthy little shit #pre canon #pre slash #squint and there's romance #promot fic #in every world they're meant to find each other let's be honest here #truth for truth #yes or no

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

So in these next few chapters, I’m sorry to say, Reader isn’t very likable. Needless to say she has some things to work out. Please enjoy the oh so fluffy Chapter 6.

Lots of fluff. Some angst.

Small Time Witch (6)

Steve grabbed a few things from his room and checked in with everyone before he went back to your room to help you get home. Everyone looked pretty beat and promised no more drinks. Every time he’s not there and the alcohol flows, someone ends up getting naked. Someone ends up crying. A few of them wrestle. It never ends well.

He got back to your room and Loki was sitting outside. He was deep in thought and looked utterly exhausted. He barely looked up when Steve passed. “She’s fragile, Captain. I have no idea what your intentions are but...be careful.” He stayed in the chair never looking directly at Steve.

“Not that it’s any of your business but I have no intentions. I just want her to be safe.”

“Safe from me you mean?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Steve mumbled

Now Loki was up from his seat getting closer to Steve. The tone of his voice was steady and almost apathetic.

“You think you’re strong enough to defend her from an unseen evil? A soulless foul entity that is controlled by a family hell bent on destroying her? You haven’t the faintest idea what you’re up against.”

He turned his back to walk away not giving Steve a chance to answer but allowing him to roll over and absorb what was said.

Loki turned around and looked back. Steve looked bewildered. “You really can’t even fathom who she is.”

“And I suppose you can?”

“As a matter of fact, I can.”

“Is this what this is about, Loki? Do you have feelings for her?”

“No more than an over protective brother has for his little sister. But I assure you, that love is fierce. I will die protecting her. No matter who it’s from.”

Loki disappeared from the room. Neither of them knew you were listening. Your heart sank a little when Loki called you his sister. What you felt for Steve was new and exciting. You could tell he was very caring. Loving even. You were sure you could have a nice time together.

What you felt for Loki felt so natural. He fit into your life in a way that just seemed to be so right. Almost like you were meant to be family. Perhaps that’s what he was feeling too. You didn’t do much mind being called a little sister. It did sort of hurt that he didn’t feel more.

When you got home Steve got you situated on the couch. He plated your dinner and joined you. “Want to watch a movie?” he excitedly asked.

“Sure. Have anything in mind?”

“Whatever you want. There are a lot of movies that I’ve missed. I’m catching up though! Still haven’t watched ‘Harry Potter’.”

“Seriously?! Let’s rectify that situation right now.”

By the time Ron played the best game of Wizard Chess, the two of you were tangled together on the couch. He absentmindedly stroked your back. Your head rested on his chest. The rise and fall of his breathing lulled you into a trance. His heartbeat was steady and he was giving off a very warm vibe.

“Are you asleep?” He asked knocking you out of your stupor.

“No. Just very relaxed. Are you ready for bed?”

“Uh yeah. I guess.” You hadn’t gotten up yet. You were too comfortable.

“Y/N?” He patted you on the back.

“Hmm?” You nuzzled deeper into him.

“Come on. Let me tuck you in.”

You groaned and finally relented.

You slipped into an old T-shirt and got under your covers. He came back in from the other bedroom in just an undershirt and his boxers.

“Ok, Princess. Let me tuck you in to bed.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You smiled and his heart beat a little faster.

He kissed your forehead and pulled the blanket over your shoulder as you rolled over.

Sleep took you quickly. He stayed watching for a few minutes. He moved a few hairs out of your eyes making your lashes flutter. He thought maybe he’d go easy on you in the gym tomorrow.

Your alarm started it’s impatient whining at 3:50. You hit snooze. Nine minutes later it went off again. Snooze. A second later you heard footsteps crossing the threshold of your door. “I know you didn’t hit snooze again.” Steve flipped on your light. At some point in the night you took off your shirt. You must have gotten hot. You were lying on your stomach. Steve’s eyes followed from the side swell of your breast down the length of your spine. The tippy top mound of your ass was just peaking over the blanket. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. What he wouldn’t give to have you draped over his body all warm and soft. He shook his head to knock those thoughts out. No time for these things.

“What if we skipped the gym today?”

“No, ma’am. Be in the kitchen in 5 minutes or I’m coming in to get you. I don’t care if you’re dressed or not this time.”

You scoffed, “You’re so mean.”

“Oh you have no idea, Princess. Four minutes and thirty seconds left.” You jumped out of bed when you heard the door close.

Sam was already in the kitchen when you walked out. Damn if these boys weren’t prompt. “Morning, Sam.”

“Right back at you, Sunshine. Let’s hit it.”

“Where‘s Steve?”

“Went for a run. We’re going to have some fun this morning. Ever toss around a medicine ball?”

You groaned at the thought, “No.”

“Well you’re going to today.”

You and Sam went down to the gym. Steve never joined you. You didn’t want to offend Sam by asking why Steve wasn’t there. You were a little relieved that he wasn’t around to huff and puff when you weren’t doing something right or fast enough.

After you and Sam finished you grabbed a light breakfast then met Nat. The morning seemed to drag. You wondered why Steve left this morning. By lunch he still wasn’t there. Everyone was chatting and carrying on. You faded into the background. It was time for Loki. You really just wanted to head back home.

“Hey, Lok.”

“Afternoon. I thought we’d try some meditation today.”

“Ok.” He noticed you were a little quiet. Perhaps you were a tired. He pressed on guiding you through a meditation that would help you to balance and focus.

“...listen to my voice. Block out all other noise..” Your thoughts were racing. You fidgeted constantly. Your body never relaxed. All you could think about was Steve. All the mixed signals. You knew he liked you. Why did he leave?

“Enough of this, mortal. You aren’t concentrating.”

“Yes, I am. Keep going.”

He rolled his eyes, “What’s on your mind? Let’s hash it out so we can carry on.”

“I’m just not feeling it today. Can we just go home?”

“No. We need to complete this exercise. Come on. Talk to me.” You sat up and chewed your lip. You didn’t want to talk to Loki about boys.

“If you don’t tell me I’ll get it out of you. You know I can.”

“It’s Steve.” Damn it.

“Did something happen last night?” He hoped not.

“Yes. Not really. Kind of.”

“Either it did or it didn’t, pet.”

“Nothing serious. We just cuddled.”

“My he’s so wholesome.” You hit him with your towel.

“Stop. He’s old fashioned.”

“No, mortal, he’s a man.They’re all alike. If nothing really happened why are you feeling so hurt and conflicted?”

“He left this morning without telling me. I know he has other things to tend to but, I thought we connected.”

He immediately regretted what he was about to say. He didn’t want you to like Steve but here you were. It was better if he let it play out. “You did. I know you did because Wanda and I felt it too. Your heart fluttered. You blushed. The butterflies when he kissed you. Felt it all. Maybe he’s trying not to rush you. Or maybe he’s trying to reconcile his feelings. I’ll tell you this much, darling: Any man, human or otherwise, would be a fool not to like you. Let’s get you home. We’re not going to get anything done here.”

You packed up your bag and waited for him by the front door. Bucky passed you and turned back to talk to you. “What are you doing all by yourself?”

“Waiting for Loki. He had to get his stuff.”

“Steve’s not staying with you again?”

“I haven’t heard from Steve all day. I didn’t think him sleeping in my guest room was a permanent thing.”

“Mmk then. You have a good night.” It felt like he didn’t say precisely what he wanted. Like he was stopping himself from spilling a secret.

“What?” He held his hands up, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I swear.” You took his hand and closed your eyes. You weren’t trying to influence him. You were trying to reach out and read his thoughts. Your sister Margot could do it. You should be able to do it now too.

“What are you doing?” he asked tentatively.

“Why didn’t Steve tell me he was leaving this morning?”

“I don’t know. (Because he likes you too much and he isn’t sure if you’re influencing him to like you or if his feelings were real).”

That cut deep. “Why would I force him to like me?”

His eyes got big and he snatched his hand out of yours. “Not cool. Get out of my head, witch” he growled.

“Tell your friend that I’d never meddle in his life like that. And tell him to stay away from me if he’s so scared.”

“Ok so I’m not a messenger. You’re both adults. You should talk to each other. Never read my thoughts again without my permission. Do you understand me?” His face was so close to yours you could smell the mint on his breath. He felt violated. You were embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” He walked away shaking his head.

Loki saw part of the exchange.

“Want to tell me what just happened?”

“I freak Steve out.”

“I don’t care about that. You were testing a power on an unwilling participant. I told you magick can’t always be the answer. That’s no way to get in good with this team.”

“Sorry, daddy. I’ll behave next time.” You pouted at him.

“I’m serious, mortal. They won’t trust you. If they won’t trust you they won’t protect you when it counts. Believe me. I’m all about self preservation but trust is a two way street.”

Now you felt like crap. Your feelings clouded your judgement and made you act on impulse. More than that, you assumed incorrectly that Loki would condone your bad behavior. The god of Mischief has rules and morals after all. You were foolish to believe he’d allow you to run rampant like a spoiled child.

You drove back home in silence. When you got upstairs Loki went to his room to put his things away. You grabbed a bottle of wine and went to bed. You were feeling very sorry for yourself.

He called out for you, “Bedroom” you answered.

“Turning in already?” He sat on the edge of your bed. You pulled the covers back inviting him to lie down with you. He kicked off his shoes and slipped under the covers still fully clothed. You rolled over to lie on his chest. At first he kept his hands behind his head. After a few moments he let one arm fall to hold you.

Neither of you said a word. You traced the knit pattern of his sweater while he played with your hair. He was giving nothing away. You, on the other hand, were confused and hurting. You sulked like a teenager who didn’t get a note in her locker after third period.

Loki didn’t realize feeling you could hurt this much. He didn’t hurt for you, he hurt for himself. You were hurting him. He didn’t want another soul to know that he was jealous of your feelings for the soldier. He wanted to help you through this. You didn’t seem to want to talk though. You were too busy over thinking. He felt your body getting heavier and slack. Before you fell asleep he tried to remove himself.

“Where are you going?”

“To the other room. You’re exhausted.”

“Please stay with me.”

“I shouldn’t. Rest, pet. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Please. I hate being alone.” He couldn’t refuse you.

He changed into something resembling pajama pants. They hung low revealing the sharp plains of his hips. There was a light dusting of hair on his lower belly. You brushed your finger tips through it as you settled around him. Your head rested on his shoulder. A long arm snaked around you holding you close. One leg wrapped around his. You fit together like twins in a womb. Before he closed his eyes he kissed the top of your head. He brought down his walls and let his feelings wash over you like a wave claiming the shoreline. You sighed in your sleep. This is what contentment felt like. This is what it was like to feel safe. This was the first time in centuries Loki felt this way.

#steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #mcu x reader #loki x you #loki x reader #loki of asgard #Steve Rogers slow burn #marvel witches #mcu witches #witches

[jonismitchell]

hey arden. i was listening to maathp and i was looking for a post i liked a while back analyzing the song that i always meant to read but never did and couldn’t find it, so i was hoping you’d give your analysis of it when you can bc you’re one of the only people who will analyze one of her songs in a way that’s more in your own way and not the “this is what the song probably means to taylor” kind of way which i kinda hate that most swifties do 💖

Hello! I read this lying in bed and thought ‘hey, this is an awesome ask, but it’s 11pm so maybe I’ll answer in the morning,’ and then I got too swept up in thinking about Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. Now I’m up cranking out Taylor Swift analysis in the middle of the night, which is my preferred habit. (Thank you for your compliments on my specific style of analysis! I love looking critically at media and will aggressively take any opportunity to do so.)

The analysis is under the cut, because it is 1000+ words and I do not hate my mutuals. Hope you enjoy!

So, what is MAATHP about? In my opinion (a general disclaimer for this entire answer), this song is about political turmoil and an obsessive romance that anchors you through it. As a greater metaphor for the juvenile state of politics today, it’s set in a high school, which also links back to the idea of public perception being the most important thing and romantic love being all consuming. (Think Lorde’s ‘blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you, but we’re the greatest.’ That’s the vibe I get from this song.)

The first verse is as follows: You know I adore you / I’m crazier for you / Than I was at sixteen / Lost in a film scene / Waving homecoming queens / Marching band playing / I’m lost in the lights. She sets the stage for the song here: an obsessive love, a comparison to being a teenager, and specific allusions to typical American high schools. There’s a reminder of her early, Fearless-era work in the homecoming queens and marching bands, but the idea of being lost in public perception implies a darker edge than we’ve heard before.

* The ‘lights’ were formerly referenced as a context for public perception as ‘another name goes up in lights’ in The Lucky One. 

Swift continues with: American glory faded before me / Now I'm feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress / Running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard / And ran for my life  Quite a bit more to unpack here! The first obvious political association here is the idea of American glory fading (a reaction to the 2016 election, presumably). Our narrator destroys a standard symbol of ‘successful’ teenage years, the prom dress, in an extension on this theme. A conflict is introduced in these lines: a visual of escape, a view of the scoreboard (nice wordplay—could be a football game or a national election). 

Pre-chorus: No cameras catch my pageant smile / I counted days, I counted miles / To see you there, to see you there / It's been a long time coming, but We’re again looking at the idea of public perception with the pageant smile, which is associated with beauty pageants for young women but is in the song’s context an allusion to the very social nature of political campaigning. It’s reinforced with counting days and miles, as if on the campaign trail around the country, and sets up the complete clash of personal and political for the chorus.

It's you and me, that's my whole world / They whisper in the hallway, "She's a bad, bad girl" / The whole school is rolling fake dice The primary romance of the song—the idea that the world is such a disaster that this one person is your lifeline and your world throughout it. Despite the gossip typical to high school halls, the narrator holds onto the person they love and condemns the rest of the school as liars. (Fake dice to me means a presupposed set of outcomes that don’t actually exist, i.e. there are more choices than others appear to see. Could also be a reference to ‘fake news.’)

You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes / It's you and me, there's nothing like this / Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince / We're so sad, we paint the town blue / Voted most likely to run away with you If you do something stupid, you have to accept the consequences for your actions = if you assume there are only a set number of outcomes, you force yourself into accepting the unpleasant result. (Maybe a bit too leftist for Swift’s intention, but this isn’t about her. Could also be ‘voting for Trump / not voting means you have to accept the consequences of his presidency.’) It’s in essence a condemnation of a narrow outlook. 

We’re drawn back to the romance that forms the backbone of this song; between someone so perfectly American (at least on the surface, conforming to the politically and socially acceptable views of the nations) that they are ‘Miss Americana’ and their lover, the ‘Heartbreak Prince’ here to ruin it all. Both of the lovers are disappointed with their society—unclear whether it’s the school or the country, probably deliberately—so they strike back for change (vote blue), but ultimately want to escape the world that has ostracized them and is actively burning down. 

My team is losing, battered and bruising / I see the high fives between the bad guys / Leave with my head hung, you are the only one / Who seems to care The second verse is pretty impressive to me from a lyrical standpoint. We can see the team as a high school’s home team or a political party, but either way they’re being fought against and beaten down. The opposition is fierce and cruel, the ‘bad guys’ who revel in their victory of cruelty. The narrator abandons this with a miserable look and her lover is the only one there to comfort her.

American stories burning before me / I'm feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed / Boys will be boys then, where are the wise men? / Darling, I'm scared  The typical idea of America—good guys always win, a bootstraps / American dream narrative—is crashing before a narrator who’s held such a strong belief in it. Without the system, she doesn’t know what to do with herself, and sees this reflected in the people around her. The ‘damsels are depressed’ is a typical idea of the role women are meant to play changed by the mental health crisis. (I am extrapolating heavily, folks.) 

‘Boys will be boys’ is a play on locker room talk, the culture of misogyny and assault that plagues America beneath the veneer of glory, and Swift follows by writing ‘where are the wise men;’ a biblical allusion to the idea of singular people that can remedy the faults in the system. She finally reverts back to the lover to share her fear. 

No cameras catch my muffled cries / I counted days, I counted miles / To see you there, to see you there / And now the storm is coming, but We look again at the idea of public perception, a private love that outlasts the outcry in a similar way to Swift’s own ‘reputation.’ She discusses hiding from the ever-present storm (whether it be a debilitating political condition or a flurry of gossip within a high school) and holding onto that lover as a remedy for outward pain.

[Repeat of the chorus as above.]

And I don't want you to (Go) / I don't really wanna (Fight) / 'Cause nobody's gonna (Win), I think you should come home [repeated] And I'll never let you (Go) 'cause I know this is a (Fight) / That someday we're gonna (Win) This repetitive bridge, a play on a traditional cheerleader chant, highlights and contrasts the two settings in this song for a final time. The narrator displays brief hatred, reconciled to the idea of no change, and unwilling to lose her lover.  Soon after (in the typical fashion of young, passionate people), there is a minute belief in the idea that the battle (against another school or political party) can be won, that it is worth sticking your neck out for, and that the narrator becomes willing to sacrifice their lover for. 

It’s in this vein that the song ends with the ‘she’s a bad, bad girl’ line repeated; now symbolizing the willingness of the narrator to sacrifice themselves and their lover for a victory they fervently believe in. This 180, incidentally, is what makes the song less convincing for me—the desperation for escape turning to a preparation to be villainized—but I hope this analysis was interesting and helped you form some of your own conclusions.

#anon #asking with you #taylor swift analysis

[shemakesmusic-uk]

TRACK BY TRACK BREAKDOWN: Waves LP by Kelly McMichael

Kelly McMichael is known for her commanding vocals and stage presence as well as her classic-sounding songwriting and arranging skills. She is able to fiercely conduct musical forces by layering vocal harmonies, producing beats, riffing on guitars and serenading at the piano. Kelly has toured Canada, the UK and the US with various projects, most recently keys and vocals with Sarah Harmer.

Kelly McMichael’s debut full-length album Waves, out today, displays a wide range of rock sounds and marks a transition from her electronic based project RENDERS. It has taken years to find the right circumstances to bring these arrangements to life, and she finally found them by the ocean with the support of engineer, co-producer and drummer Jake Nicoll (The Burning Hell), and multi-instrumentalists Sarah Harris (Property), and Maria Peddle. Kelly is keeping busy with musical explorations and dreaming of rock and roll concerts and she can’t wait to tour again.

We asked Kelly to breakdown Waves track-by-track to give us more insight into what the songs on the LP are about. Read it below.

I Missed Out On Everything

Written a few years ago but it resonates with the last year we've had. It’s about getting older, reminiscing about the past and not feeling satisfied in my current state. I was conflicted about how to be a grown-up and the idea of having to get a "real" job. At the time I was feeling pressure to have a more stable career instead of continuing to pursue the almost impossible goal of being a musician. And I was also feeling bored in a long-term relationship. I hope it's consoling in a fun way... like, “crap there goes a whole year of our lives... let's play some rock and roll about it”.

Out The Window

Two friends convince each other to raise the bar. They realize they deserve better than their jobs and partners, and are saying “fuck it”. So they go treat themselves to a night out on the town / road trip sorta thing... bit of a Thelma and Louise vibe. It’s not about being selfish and destructive. They deserve better and they are standing up for themselves, making a change and maybe being a little bad for once.

Stepping Stone

‘Stepping Stone’ questions how the pursuit of success in the music industry can impact the nature of a relationship. I’m reaching out for understanding while sifting through themes of ambition, loyalty, and jealousy. It was inspired by a working relationship with someone who seemed to move on without ever looking back. I combined other experiences of witnessing people moving through their careers and social connections, wondering what qualifies as good business, or just ‘how things are’, and not pointing any fingers but wishing there was more room for genuine, honest friendships.

She Makes Men

A very good looking man who all the girls had a crush on falls in love with a lesbian. Figures, she’s the one woman he can’t have. It was about a bit of a love triangle I was in in university. I had a crush on him, he had a crush on her and she had a crush on me. I realized he was actually getting some value out of spending time with a woman who wasn’t pining for him, by learning to view other girls as whole people, not just as these flakey giggly crush monsters.

It Will Pass

Gently talking myself through some depression, trying to access the advice-giver, helper, supporting part of my brain to console the depressed part. It’s as though I’m consoling somebody else but it really was written for myself. It has a comforting, optimistic tone to it but it opens up into the heaviness that I was feeling inside myself and you can hear the emotion and struggle at the climax “believe me, I’ll try to believe myself,” then there’s a chaotic jam with the band which resolves into a peaceful spacey feeling at the very end, like the calm after the storm.

Good Friends

I wanted to write a song about friendship because I don’t think there are enough of those. It also addresses a popular notion that one day your love will come save you, but we shouldn’t be relying on love to do that, and we shouldn’t be so ready to give up our lives and friends for love. A strong healthy love will come out of feeling secure and happy with how you have built your life and your relationships. Love as an escape, to me, is not a great idea, and there are so many songs about this.

I Won’t Stop

This was about getting unfair treatment from someone who seemed to have an unreasonable desire to squash me out of a project I was involved with years ago. It’s about being made to feel small and wrong, and realizing I didn’t deserve that, and it was more about him than me. Time to stop questioning what I did wrong, and time to feel sure of myself, and what I was doing. He got kicked off the project, so I did end up winning.

Montreal

I'm reflecting on the free, silly, frolicking of a trip long ago. Channeling the celebration of good memories and good friends. It’s a nice place to be when we can’t do that now. It’s also acknowledging that I am in a new chapter of my life, older and wiser and more responsible. I’m looking back at my youth, not longing for it like I am in ‘I Missed Out On Everything’, but just feeling satisfied and making a toast to one of the best, if not The Best, trips of my life.

Love is On Now

It’s about coming out of a very rough patch and being able to feel love and joy again. It was written before the pandemic but I hope it resonates and helps people, because depression can take away your ability to feel good things. It’s a happy ending that is meant to heal and be a reminder that life is tough, but good feelings will come back around eventually. Confronting those good feelings about a relationship that was actually ending very painfully while I was recording the album, was (and still is) extremely difficult for me. It is hard, but it is beautiful and powerful, and captures the message of the album well by including different chapters of my life and celebrating resilience - good and bad - waves - cycles - balance.

Can’t At All

This song is about struggling with the balance between my music and my relationship. Feeling guilty that music was higher on my list of priorities. I think women aren’t allowed to skip out on emotional labour in their home lives for their art the way men can. But I’m also wondering when it becomes self indulgent to pursue art. Wondering what the cost of being so wrapped up in my music is… when it breaks my heart and causes me agony a lot of the time. I’m comparing myself to another artist / influence who was so consumed by her art that it negatively impacted her relationships. I am questioning where I fit in, and where I would like to be.

Waves is out now.

#track by track breakdown #kelly mcmichael #waves

[chelsfic]

Hunter’s Heart - Din Djarin x OFC - Mandalorian Fanfic

Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Summary: Instead of finding a child the Mandalorian discovers his quarry is a young woman. The girl has been held captive and abused and she claims not to know why she’s being sought by every bounty hunter in the galaxy. Din knows she’s lying but for the first time he can remember he feels doubt about finishing a job.  

A/N: If you get major Firefly vibes from this plot, that’s because I am definitely flashing back to my Jayne/River shipping days as I write this. I love that Din is the fierce, strong bounty hunter who’s secretly soft and I just couldn’t get the idea of being one of his bounties out of my head. So here we are… If you like this fic and you’d like to be tagged in it just let me know!

Warnings: Mentions past non-con

Rating: General for now

***

The Mandalorian freezes as he takes in the image before him. He’d been expecting maybe a grizzled ex-warlord or a hardened syndicate criminal. Instead the quarry that’s caused all of this grief appears to be a…girl. A young woman. It’s difficult to judge her age. She’s slight, thin, weak-looking. She’s been chained to a wall and, if the bruises and abrasions on her skin are any indication, clearly abused. In all his years of hunting, Din has never felt a moment’s hesitation or a second’s doubt about his actions. He takes in criminals, they do their time, take their punishment, and he gets paid. He’s a necessary link in the chain. Not good. Not bad. Necessary.

Today he pauses.

The droid doesn’t.

The IG unit raises its blaster arm to take aim at the girl who is visibly quaking in fear. Din has no qualms shooting the droid. Killing isn’t part of the arrangement he made with the client. Alive. He is bringing this bounty in alive.

The droid drops to the floor, smoke rising from the hole in its central processor made by Din’s blaster. He watches the girl flinch at the sound of impact, but she doesn’t look up. Her face is pointed away from him and she’s huddling into the wall as if hoping to somehow fade into the plaster and avoid notice. The muscles in her shoulders and arms twitch as she crouches there, hugging herself and purposely not looking at the intimidating bounty hunter.

Din is momentarily at a loss for words. Normally this would be the point where he addresses the quarry by name, confirms the bounty and locks them in a pair of binders. But he doesn’t know this girl’s name, or why exactly there’s a price on her head, and she doesn’t look like she can stand let alone try to escape from him. He clears his throat, a rare sign of discomfort that’s at least distorted by the helmet.

“Can you get up?” he asks. It’s uncharacteristic. He should command her to get up and come quietly.

The chains rattle as the girl shakes her head furiously and curls into herself even more. He’s encountered plenty of fear in his career as a bounty hunter. It comes with the job title. But he’s never been…bothered by it before. This job really is cursed. Something just isn’t right here. Why do they want this harmless looking woman?

Din steps forward, kneeling down to get a look at her face through the tinted visor of his helmet.

“Hey,” he says, reaching out as if to grasp her shoulder before thinking better of it and letting his gloved hand drop, “I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to, okay? But you have to come with me now.”

She blinks and he watches as fat tears spill over her cheeks. A string of expletives march through his thoughts but he stays silent and watches her in a way he knows people find unnerving. The girl looks up at him, not quite succeeding in meeting his gaze but getting it close enough. She inhales shakily before speaking in a voice cracked from disuse, “Where are we going?”

Din nearly sighs in relief and reaches out to begin working on her chains as he replies, “Back to my ship.”

The girl still looks wary but she rises on shaky legs and holds her hands out for him to cut through the chains with one of his tools. He wonders if she realizes who and what he is. If she even knows that there’s a price on her head. He can’t believe he’s letting this girl’s looks get to him like this. He’s seen plenty of bounties who looked the part of the innocent. What is different about this one?

As the chains fall away he makes up his mind to be more practical. He takes a pair of binders from his utility belt and watches as the girl shrinks from him with a look of dread on her face. 

“No, no, please… No more restraints!” her eyes dart wildly around the room like a spooked animal. He wonders how long she’s spent in chains.

Din grabs a wrist and pulls her in until he’s leaning into her personal space and the girl is visibly cringing away from him. 

“If I leave you unbound are you going to come quietly? No escapes. No running.”

She twists her arm attempting to dislodge his grip. The Mandalorian tightens his fingers just enough to hint at pain without actually causing her any injury. Seeing the futility of the effort she gives up and nods in defeat. 

“I won’t run away,” she whispers, her head hangs down in submission. “I just don’t want anything else around my wrists.”

He releases his grip and watches as she gingerly rubs each wrist. They’re red and raw from the tight chains. Din feels a flash of guilt that’s entirely ridiculous. He quickly squelches it as he starts to make mental calculations for their extraction plan. It’s a long trek back to the Razor’s Crest and the girl doesn’t have any shoes. He looks her up and down and she shivers under the impenetrable tinted gaze of his visor. She’s dressed in a threadbare beige tunic and dirty leggings. No jacket either. 

Din sighs and turns toward the blasted doorway, motioning her to follow, “Come on.”

Outside the courtyard of the compound is littered in bodies. Din eyes each form, sizing them up until he finds a little guy who’s close enough to the girl’s proportions. He bends over him and dispassionately strips the brown tactical jacket from his shoulders, tossing it in the girl’s direction, and then tugs the shoes from his feet.

“Put these on,” his voice is entirely unreadable thanks to the voice modulator.

The girl looks up at him with wide eyes and a doubtful expression. She picks up the jacket, holding it at length between two fingers and wrinkles her nose at it, “There’s blood on this…”

The Mandalorian just stares at her for a long moment completely motionless before he finally states, “Beggars can’t be choosers. Put it on. And the shoes. We have a long walk to my ship.”

She tugs the boots on first and is surprised by how well they fit. They’re not the most comfortable, especially without socks, but her feet have already started to burn on the sun-scorched packed earth of the courtyard. She glances up at the bounty hunter with a look of gratitude that may as well have been aimed at a rock for all the reaction she gets. She straightens and pulls the jacket on over her shoulders with a look of distaste but she’s at least glad for the protection from the harsh sun. 

“Let’s move,” Din commands, striding ahead of her and expecting her complete obedience. He’s not worried about keeping her in his sight. Her short legs and weak condition would make it too simple to catch her if she decides to run.

***

They’ve been walking for about an hour when the Mandalorian stops suddenly and she sees his helmet slowly swivel to the side as he takes in their surroundings. She can’t see his expression but his sudden tension is telegraphed by his wary stance and she freezes in place behind him, holding her breath in sudden fear.

The form springs out at him from a shadowy crevice in the canyon wall, leaping from above and immediately engaging in combat while two others appear from nowhere and surround him. The girl drops to the dirt at the first sign of conflict and starts frantically shuffling away from the danger, taking refuge behind a boulder. She watches as her captor takes on all three bounty hunters with efficient, powerful movements that make it clear that even three Trandoshans are no match for one Mandalorian warrior. He takes them down one at a time until there’s only one desperate hunter left. The Trandoshan races toward her hiding place and she flinches with the familiar anticipation of pain but it never comes. Instead he’s vaporized by a shot from the Mandalorian’s rifle just before he comes within reach of her.

Din bends over his fallen foe and picks up the familiar looking tracking beacon. He feels a flare of annoyance with Greef Karga. How many damn beacons did he give out? He finds himself once again staring at the small woman cowering  beneath the canyon wall. Her long, brown hair is tied back from her face but he can tell it’s stringy with sweat and grime. Her thin arms are covered in bruises and cuts. Why does the client want her so badly? Who is she? What is she?

***

They keep walking as the sun falls in the sky. Din knows the girl is getting tired. Every now and then she stumbles and has to catch herself to stay upright. It’s nearly nightfall when they come upon a small watering hole with some decent sized rocks for cover. When the girl sees the water she skips ahead, clearly relieved and thirsty. 

“Wait!” Din commands. He catches up to her with his measured, unhurried strides. The girl is standing at the edge of the water and looking up at him with an almost pleading expression. “We have to test the water first to make sure it’s potable.”

She nods her head at his sensible words and waits as he dips a small device into the water and watches the display. A small light turns green and the Mandalorian nods wordlessly at her. She falls to her knees and dips her hands in the water, cupping them and drinking. The sun has warmed the water but it’s clean and refreshing and she nearly moans in relief as she drinks her fill. When she’s had enough she dunks her whole head, scrubbing her face and running her fingers through her dirty hair. She can’t remember the last time she’s been allowed to use a refresher to bathe but this feels positively luxurious. When she’s through washing her face and arms she sits back and notices the Mandalorian just standing over her. 

The soulless helmet stares back at her and she feels a shiver run down her spine. She’d seen the way he incapacitated those other hunters in the canyon. He’s strong and deadly and he is now in charge of her fate. She‘s frightened of angering him but she feels the words bubble up to her lips anyway, “Aren’t you going to have some water?”

He lets an unnerving moment of silence pass before answering, “No.”

The girl’s brow furrows in confusion at his answer. They’ve been walking through the desert for hours, he must be thirsty…

“Aren’t you thirsty?”

“I can’t remove my helmet in front of another living being,” his voice comes out irritated and she feels herself subconsciously flinch away as if expecting to be hit for her insolence. Din doesn’t miss the reaction and he sighs wearily, “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

She’s silent for a while, contemplating his words. He has not hurt her or shown any sign that he wishes to…but it must be an act, surely? She can’t remember a time before fear and pain and captivity. She’s never met a person who didn’t wish to harm her in some way to get her to do what they wanted. She keeps a watchful gaze on the bounty hunter as he settles down on the ground and leans his back up against a boulder. She can’t read anything from his mask and that frightens her more than anything. She can always tell when one of her jailers is about to strike out at her and she’s able to prepare herself for the blow. But this man is a mystery.

It’s been so long since she’s been allowed to speak, though. Now that she’s started the words keep coming.

“Why can’t you take off your helmet?”

“I’m a Mandalorian,” he explains simply. “It is the way.”

Din notices the blank look on the girl’s face and asks, “Don’t you know about Mandalorians?”

A blush creeps up her cheeks as if she’s embarrassed by her ignorance. She shakes her head in response.

“We don’t remove our armor in front of anyone. It’s part of our religion.”

“Oh,” she answers quietly. As the sun dips lower toward the horizon she can feel the temperature dropping and she’s grateful for the baggy jacket that she pulls tighter to her body. The Mandalorian seems unaffected by anything: thirst, the temperature, the exertion of walking for miles without rest. But his voice is that of a normal man. And though she’s never been shown kindness by a man in her life, she can’t help the instinct to offer kindness when she can. “I’ll close my eyes.”

“What?” Din asks, startled from his own musings.

The girl takes a breath for courage and repeats herself more clearly, “I’ll close my eyes. I promise I won’t look. So you can have some water. You must be thirsty.”

Din narrows his eyes behind the visor and regards her with suspicion. He’s been contemplating the likelihood that her innocence is all an act. Who in the galaxy has never heard of a Mandalorian? He shakes his head at her, “I don’t trust you.”

The girl looks puzzled, “But…you’re the kidnapper. I don’t trust you!”

“What are you talking about?” he demands in annoyance, clenching his fists in the dirt beside him. “I’m a bounty hunter. I’ve collected you because you are a fugitive. And fugitives…are not trustworthy.”

“I haven’t done any crime,” she answers quietly. She shrinks down into herself as if his words are shameful to her. He supposes they would be shameful…to an innocent person. Which she is not.

“I’ve heard that one before,” he says with finality and turns pointedly away from her to end the discussion.

But his throat is almost unbearably dry and his tongue is heavy and swollen with thirst. What an idiot.

“Come here,” he says gruffly. He walks over to her and grabs her roughly by the arm before she has a chance to stand on her own. He half drags her back to the water and forces her down on her knees beside him. He wraps an arm around her head and holds his gloved hand over her eyes tightly, almost painfully. “I’m going to take off my helmet and drink. If you move, if you struggle, if you try to break away from me….I’ll kill you. Understand?”

She starts to nod before she remembers herself and keeps still.

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “I understand.”

With one arm holding the girl to his side and covering her eyes, Din proceeds to awkwardly remove his helmet with one hand. He breathes rapidly with nervous tension. He’s never been so close to another living being with his helmet off before. But the girl is right. He’s desperately thirsty. He sets the beskar helmet down in the dust beside him and takes a second to breathe in the chill evening air. His dark hair is damp with sweat and messy, sticking up chaotically around his head. His forehead is slick with sweat. He moves his hand upward and tugs at the finger of his glove with his teeth, pulling it off and letting it drop to the ground. His hand plunges into the water and he begins to drink. 

The girl is boneless in his grip, too terrified to move an inch. She lets her body move with his as he bends down to reach the water and then up again to drink from his hand. His armor digs into her back uncomfortably but she stays quiet. She’s never been so close to a man like this without the expectation of violence or…other things. She tries to calm her nerves by taking deep breaths and imagining that she has a different life. This is an exercise with which she’s very familiar. When the guards seek her out in the dark hours and assault her with their disgusting, foul breath and clumsy touches…she imagines she’s someplace else with a friend or even a lover. The dreams help her to stay sane. Now she imagines she is with someone who loves her and his arm around her is not a restraint but an embrace. The thought calms her and she’s able to forget that he’d threatened to kill her a moment ago.

When he’s finished and his helmet and glove are safely in place he lets her go. The girl scoots away from him and hugs herself. The temperature has dropped and she’s starting to shiver even with the jacket. 

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says simply before moving back to his place by the rock. She follows him, settling down a few feet away and curling into a ball for warmth. 

Din starts working on his damaged chest plate as night falls in earnest. He catches sight of the girl shivering in the corner of his eye and he once again feels the unwelcome clench of guilt. He pushes it aside angrily and focuses on his work. She might not be the type of criminal he’s used to capturing but she hasn’t been completely truthful with him either. There’s no way this girl doesn’t know why she’s being hunted. 

“Why does my client want you if you didn’t commit a crime?” he demands abruptly.

The girl holds her hands out, palms up in a gesture that could mean uncertainty or surrender. But she doesn’t answer for a long time and when she does the words are hollow with the lie, “I don’t know.”

When the Mandalorian doesn’t deign to respond she goes back to huddling for warmth. She feels the mistrust and anger roll off of him in waves before she can block them out. The lie leaves a sour taste in her mouth but she learned a long time ago that to tell the truth about what she is–what they made her into–always leads to disaster. She’s nodding into a fitful doze when she feels something soft settle around her shoulders and she looks up to see the Mandalorian already walking back to sit in his spot across from her. She reaches up to pull the thick fabric of the bounty hunter’s cloak around her shoulders. It’s surprisingly warm and she feels a rush of gratitude toward him despite everything.

“Thank you,” she whispers. The Mandalorian nods minutely and goes back to his work.

The nameless girl lays down on the soil, wrapped in her captor’s cloak and feels her eyes finally close. She drifts off into a sleep uninterrupted by terror or pain for the first time since before she can remember.

#the mandalorian imagine #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x oc #din djarin #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x oc #mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian #mando #chelsfic

[confrontthefamiliar]

the complicated reasons I am in Istanbul

I’m traveling around Europe with my boyfriend. It’s sort of romantic and sort of crazy. I guess that’s why I did it. Plus the USA was giving me really bad vibes. I got tired of trying to get different sides to see different sides’ points. I just wanted everyone to get along, to have a good time, maybe even have good manners. I thought Europe would be a nice respite and I hoped Europe might rub off on me some more.

I used my $686,000,000,000 annual military budget-endowed American passport to get on a flight to Istanbul last Thursday to escape it all and also because I remembered fighting the good fight means following your heart and swimming through contradictions. I also love looking at America from outer space, country-wise. Instead of violent, it just looks sort of obscene; childish. The chaotic roar becomes a trickle I no longer have to constantly tune into. I wish everyone had the means to do this but I also know every human being is powerful enough to get anything she wants if she listens long enough to her own heart. Or at least I understand the power behind a mindset. Hearing and seeing divisive hate speech across groups of people I love along with witnessing my own violence had me wanting and craving a nation-less existence (cue seagulls laughing at me over the Marmara Sea). How escapist, how crazy- but it can’t be any more escapist or crazy than watching television, right? The world runs differently in other countries. I am not going to stay in one where I have to sit on a fence, looking over at the right and empathizing, then looking over at the left and empathizing. Because I believe in everything and everyone and it’s exhausting to live that way in the USA. I can’t keep digging for common ground.

When I first got here I could only experience negative emotions. I hate cities, I hate my boyfriend, I hate the heat. It’s like I had to purge the negativity of the USA in a political detox. After day 5 I am in love with Istanbul and everyone in it (boyfriend included): the heaving cups of pomegranate juice I drink, pretending it’s my own period blood; the rose petal candy and rosewater I eat and spray, feeling ethereal, delicate; the call to pray five times a day reminding me a good god is always around somewhere. This is a good place to believe in it all: where ninety percent of the population prays five times a day and calls each other brother and friend, where nobody cares to die because everyone is prepared to meet their maker. That’s how I want to live anyways. 

I’m excited for our first weekend trip to try to find a couple surf spots on the Black Sea. According to locals and other travelers, we have an eighty percent chance of getting lost. To me, that is freedom. While I want to believe in everything, I also know that I know nothing. Conviction is a killer and I suppose that is why getting lost makes me feel free. The truth may set you free but the search can imprison.

I have always had a difficult relationship with leadership; contradictory, antagonistic, messy. I do not know how to lead myself and yet I am fiercely independent. I personally reject any sort of groupthink whether it’s prestige or protest. I am very anti-authoritarian and have had problems with most of my bosses. Crowds make me nervous, and cities make me crazy. I followed a boyfriend to college and I followed a boyfriend to Turkey.

I grew up believing I was imprisoned, essentially, and that my life was ticking away. It sure was but my parents only wanted to make sure I made it through adolescence intact. Nowadays I don’t blame them but when I was a teenager I was hysterical about my lack of freedom. Now I can consider that if my parents hadn’t imprisoned me, I probably would have ended up roadkill a long time ago.

Whenever my dad dropped me off at school he would say, “Be a leader!” As a kid I thought it was embarrassing but now I just think it’s American. However, in effect, I think I resented leadership from a young age and began plotting the best approach towards becoming a barnacle for the rest of my life.

Here I am in Istanbul with my boyfriend that I followed where I develop strong bouts of anxiety when he leads me around the city without explaining his every turn or decision. I want him to narrate his thought process to me so that I know what is going on. I don’t want to be led nor guided, I want to be part of the process each step of the way so that we are going places together and he isn’t just taking me there. 

I am also simultaneously getting ready to break up with him and imagining having a family with him but when I try to explain this sentiment to him he doesn’t really take me seriously. I don’t really take myself seriously and I’m probably just testing the waters; forever insecure, measuring, calculating, weighing, as barnacles are apt to do. I’d never be able to break up if he just asked me point blank anyways. Nor decide to get pregnant. I sort of hope he’ll just leave me in Turkey. However I do want to make it to Spain where I can surf and speak Spanish. So I’ll probably end up going to Budapest with him anyways where I can get into Spain next in the Schengen zone. I’ll buy some beautiful Turkish rugs, jewelry, lamps, art, and then make a life in a bungalow on one of the Islas Canarias where I can surf and kite and teach English. Maybe Cristian will join me or maybe not. He’s reading this and it’s fine because he broke up with me once last spring so I still have some leeway. We even had a chat today about the only good time we’ve had together in Turkey thus far being when we were in the hotel sauna. A one year and counting millennial relationship is as real, transparent, and as true as a 30-year-old boomer marriage.

It is a thrill to be here, it really is, but I am also guilty and depressed for living life on my own terms and not being a part of a group actively caring about other groups. Yesterday I met a Turkish man whose father died from covid at 59, his first time in a hospital. Today I met an Albanian man who, because of covid, was stranded on a cruise ship for three months where a man killed himself from quarantining. I could just as easily be either types of people but I think I’d rather be and contribute to the first.

I could easily blame my father for “controlling” my life as a child but I should just take accountability for my own American personality. Live free or die, they said. I hope my ancestors are happy if they’re really out there watching me roam around all these years, even now during the time of Covid, black lives matter, the 2020 election, and Jeffrey Epstein. I both hope and scorn the chance that they may be out there, singling me out as kindred rebel spirit. Or maybe I’m just another hot shot with a superiority complex. Spineless. A barnacle.    

#istanbul #travel #usa #america #covid #covid chronicles

[datleggy]

a list of every anime i love/recommend, accumulated over the last 10+ years

1. NATSUME YUUJINCHOU 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

The main character is a teenage boy named Natsume, whose parents died when he was too young to remember them properly. He’s passed around random relatives homes, but because he can see yokai (spirits), he’s ostracized by classmates and his foster families (ALL HIS CHILDHOOD FLASHBACKS ARE SO FUCKING SAD) and eventually very distant relatives (an older couple who never had kids of their own and have so much goddamn love to give D:!!!) take Natsume in, and the story basically starts from there. 

It’s a very heart-warming story following Natsume’s new life in this new town, accepting his ability to see yokai, forging new relationships in the form of friends and family, and even with the yokai themselves. 

This is honestly probably my favorite anime/manga period, because it’s so sad but so cathartic and you watch as the main character grows and learns to trust those around him, and finally gets the unconditional love he’s always deserved, not to MENTION THE FACT THAT THEY DO A WHOLE EP WHERE NATSUME IS TURNED BACK INTO A LITTLE KID AND IT IS SOOOO GOOD OMG

Plus for those of you who enjoy whump, this show has a decent amount of it. Mainly emotional whump, but also some episodes where Natsume is injured or sick--as well as I believe one where his companion (the chubby cat on his shoulder who’s actually a pretty badass yokai) gets shot with an arrow and is down for the count. 

10/10 would and have watched again. 

2. KODOCHA NO OMOCHA 

SUMMARY/REVIEW:  The main character is a sixth grader named Sana. She’s a gifted actress on a t.v. show everyone likes and she’s silly and fun, very intuitive and surprisingly empathetic for a child. 

Her main problem is in school, where Akito, who she deems the leader of her class’ wolf pack of rowdy rude boys, lets them terrorize not just the teacher, but all the girls in class, as well. 

I don’t really want to give a lot away, so I’ll just state the obvious. This anime/manga is shoujo, which means that it does focus on a romantic relationship throughout the series. Mainly the one between Sana and Akito. Sana is absolutely oblivious about her own feelings, while Akito is a stubborn little shit. 

I remember watching this at like, age 12 maybe? And I really enjoyed it because (although I do enjoy your typical silly doesn’t take itself too seriously slice of life shoujo) this particular anime, while super funny and light hearted at times, was also really dramatic and even kinda dark, which was surprising considering the characters ages and the general kid-friendly vibe (especially the opening for the anime). 

3. DETECTIVE CONAN

SUMMARY/REVIEW:  Our main character is initially Shinichi Kudo, teenage detective, who’s on a date with childhood sweetheart Ran (whose father also happens to a detective but like....not a good one lmao), when his nosy ass self decides to go and check out some shady business and gets “poisoned”. 

The poison he’s given is intended to kill him, but what it actually does is turn him back into a child. And now, as Conan Edogawa, (who’s 7 but like....we just supposed to believe all these cops and detectives on the force are cool with a seven year old wee lil babe on these really gruesome ass crime scenes??? lmaoooo) we follow him on his adventures as he solves crimes and tries to solve the biggest mystery of all, his own! 

I absolutely LOVE this anime/manga, even though I’ll be honest, there is SO MUCH FILLER, but I like the characters enough that I really don’t mind. The show is at least 900+ episodes in at this point, and there are a total of 26 movies so far, last time I checked. 

Also, the show is a whump fangirls’ dream come true. The main character is thrown out of windows, balconies, shot at, and in one occasion actually shot, he’s had broken bones, sprains, almost been blown up or drowned/burned, been sick, and oh, his occasional transformations from child to teenager are incredibly painful. 

This show is probably at fault for my love of whump, since it was one of my first animes at like, age 9. smh. 

4. THE DEVIL IS A PART-TIMER!

REVIEW:

I’m not even going to summarize this one. The title does it for me. This is truly one of the funniest animes I’ve ever seen. Motherfuckin Satan works at a McDonalds part time and it is the BEST. 

Technically I would count this show as a kind of harem, but only because there are like three main girl characters after the overlord Satan himself. I usually dislike harem type animes but the way this is done is sooooo good I couldn’t resist. 

I would watch a million filler episodes of Satan trying to solve problems at his minimum wage job tbh. I love every single character, I love the plot, I love everything about this anime! In terms of comedy (with the occasional plot driven serious moments) this is IT bro. 

5. BLACK BUTLER

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

The main character is Ciel Phantomhive (roughly 14 years old). His parents are killed, his house is burned to ashes, and he’s kidnapped (around age 9 or 10 I believe) and abused. During this abuse Ciel calls upon a demon to free him and help him get revenge on those who harmed the Phantomhive household, which is where Sebastian, one “hell of a good butler” comes in. 

We then follow Ciel and Sebastian on their path of vengeance, and along the way we meet Ciel’s human servants, three very clumsy and seemingly bad at their given tasks characters (i love them all), and some of his extended relatives and connections. 

My favorite thing about Black Butler is the art, both in the anime and manga. Everything is so detailed and pretty! 

The characters are interesting, the plot is dark but they manage to make most of the series overall pretty light-hearted and funny in general. Though of course there are chapters/parts of the series that get really grim (which duh, the whole thing focuses on revenge so...) 

I have to say, the arc I enjoyed the most has to be the movie, Black Butler: Book Of the Atlantic. It is beautifully drawn and sooooooo entertaining. 

6. INUYASHA 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

Our main characters are Inuyasha, a half-demon, who’s been in a sort of spiritually binding coma for the last few decades, and fourteen year old Kagome, who falls into an old well in her family’s shrine and finds herself being transported into another time period. 

Together, she and Inuyasha travel across the lands in the feudal era to find the scattered shards of the shikon jewel, a powerful jewel which grants anyone who possesses it ultimate power. 

I was too young to stay up and watch Inuyasha on adult swim, so my mom would tape the show on a VCR for me to watch the next day after school--yes, I’m old old. lmaoooo I ADORE this show. 

It’s so good! It’s got everything! A tortured lil half-demon with a sad past who’s stubborn and rude but got a good heart! A fierce and equally as stubborn main protagonist, who’s whole ass family knows exactly where she goes off to??? and are supportive af????? like???? her mama packs her and her squad of demon/exorcist/demon hunter pals bentos?!?! lmao i love it. 

The characters are awesome and funny and likable as all heck, and of course they all have their sad backstory, but like, unlike some animes (lookin at YOU Naruto) they don’t go mega overboard on it, at least not without some plot behind the episode. 

7. YU YU HAKUSHO 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

Before I even start in on the summary, ya’ll should watch this soley bc of the cute ass 90′s style animation alone. LOOK AT ALL THAT SHINY HAIR!

ANYWAY. Main character is teenage hooligan and overall cutie pie Yusuke! He gets struck by a car and fucking DIES in the first episode after shoving a little boy out of the way, only to end up in the spirit world where the head honcho up there (who looks like a wee baby) tells him “Oh shit, didn’t expect you to like, actually do anything self-sacrificing EVER so like, you’re not on our list of people who were supposed to die today...” 

And uh, I don’t wanna give anything away, so I’m just gonna say that if you haven’t seen this anime yet, you definitely should! It’s hilarious and dramatic, the fight scenes are very well done, all the side characters, who eventually become main characters are a blessing (specifically Hiei, who’ve I’ve had a crush on since I was 12) and the ending is a satisfying one, which you can’t really say for a lot of media. 

8. CHRONO CRUSADE 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

I still get weepy when I think of this anime, so all I’ll say is it’s about a badass demon slaying nurse and her demon companion and some very tragic shit. 

It’s a great anime overall, especially if you like crying yourself to sleep at night :) 

9. GHOST HUNT

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

The main character is high school student Mai, who is hired by Naru, the head of a Shibuya psychic research, and together, with a group of questionable exorcists/psychics, they encounter paranormal phenomenons and some outright scary shit. 

I’m not really a fan of the horror genre tbh but I do like mystery, and the series deals with that quite a bit. They deal with each case for several episodes so nothing feels too rushed. 

The series is really fun in a creepy, wtf is that way. I recommend the manga, only because it’s more detailed in terms of plot than the anime. 

10. ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

I didn’t really make this list in any particular order but if I had to say, Assassination Classroom and Natsume Yuujinchou probably tie for BEST ANIME PERIOD! 

This anime is about a weird ass “alien” creature, no one knows where it came from or why tf it’s here on earth, all they know is that in one year it’s threatened to blow the world up. 

His only request to the government is that they let him become a teacher for Class E, the worst class of Kunugigaoka Junior High School, and he will stay put, so that they can attempt an assassination on him during this one year period. 

AND LISTEN! I am a shallow hoe, so I literally never would have read this manga or watched the series had I not been roaming Barnes and Noble one day with my S.O. and picked it up to read as a JOKE! 

I was hooked after the first chapter and I am soooooooo glad I picked this manga up, bc it is absolutely not the type I would normally go for, cover art wise. I finally, after many many years, learned not to judge a book by its cover bc LORD this anime is so goddamn good, you don’t understand! Like, I’ve watched it so many times and still laugh at the same parts, cry at the same parts, am proud af at the same parts! like, this anime is an instant classic and should definitely be more popular than it is. 

assassination classroom and natsume yuujinchou????? MASTERPIECES! 

#anime i can't imagine life without #natsume yuujinchou #assassination classroom #inuyasha #black butler #detective conan #whump #chrono crusade #ghost hunt #yu yu hakusho #the devil is a part-timer #kodocha #long post is long

[kinetic-elaboration]

November 13: 1x23 A Taste of Armageddon

Feeling pretty tired now, and it’s been a rough day, but I did rally to watch, and enjoy, an episode of Star Trek.

A diplomatic mission today. The Enterprise comes with friendly intentions!

I don’t entirely get this Ambassador or the back story here. They want to set up diplomatic relations with this solar system, because Federation members somehow get killed there a lot. But the Eminians don’t ever leave their solar system, so if the Federation is having problems with them it must be because the Federation is messing around in their space. So perhaps you could just no go there?

Mmm love Kirk being A Captain. “I’m thinking about this ship, my crew.” He’s not a fan of Ambassadors or people usurping his power.

And Spock seems very interested in all of this.

Aw yeah another cool 50s sci fi background! There are more of these than I remembered.

All of the interior hallways, as well as the exterior painting, are all nice and bright and multi-colored for those new color TVs.

It’s hard to pinpoint why, but I feel like this is an effectively Alien culture. Like maybe it’s the weird hats or the colorful hallways or the initial mysterious nature of them, but they just feel very not human, in a way ST alien guest stars don’t always manage imo.

Those annoying colonists lol. Sent them to a new planet and now they’re attacking us.

“If this is an attack... where’s the attack?”

Everyone in Star Trek does a lot of scanning and surveillance.

“Our civilization lives--the people die--but our culture goes on.” Literally America’s COG plans.

“I do not approve. I understand.” I love Spock so much.

The target has been “classified destroyed.” Kirk is confused and rightfully so.

Hmm, is Spock meditating?

Oh, there’s McCoy! Guess he didn’t get the memo yet that he and everyone else is dead.

Scotty know when Kirk’s voice isn’t Kirk’s voice. I love Scotty also and appreciate that he’s getting a bigger role at this point in the series.

I guess Spock is still a “Vulcanian.” Ngl... kind of wish they’d stuck with that. It has a certain ring. I feel like this is the first mention of their telepathic abilities--aside from the mind meld specifically. And they’re “limited” abilities. But not so limited that he can’t control that dude’s mind without touching him--and through a door. Mom suggested the ability is stronger with touch, which makes sense, especially as they do have psychic bonds with each other. But still. That looked pretty powerful to me.

Kirk is so apologetic about possibly being forced to kill.

“I’ll cover you.” It’s probably because of STXI that that affects me so much lol.

I can’t believe “there’s a multi-legged creature on your shoulder” worked! I remember seeing this ep for the first time and just completely losing it at that.

No one’s even gonna talk about the Prime Directive today, I guess.

So it’s already escalating as Anan said: real weapons used to destroy their weird suicide machines, now real weapons to attack the Enterprise.

Scotty’s not impressed by their fire power though.

If only Spock were here to be reminded of his father.

“The best diplomat I know is a fully activated phaser bank.” But they’re not military lmao.

Kirk is so turning up the charm again with Mea. But she’s not very susceptible to it and he’s getting kind of impatient, so it’s like Aggressive Charm.

I feel like this ambassador isn’t very smart. He’s too trusting, doesn’t seem to have great instincts. As opposed to Scotty, who is also Brave and Good, taking a stand.

“The haggis has hit the fan.” Please tell me that is not a real Scottish saying.

I know Kirk and Anan are supposed to be, like, tense and dangerous and threatening in this scene, but it’s reading almost flirty. “Would you...like a drink?” Kirk’s little finger crook thing.

You can tell he already has a plan at this point, which is kind of unusual in terms of Star Trek structure imo. Like usually you’re more with Kirk as he develops a plan, and here you’re watching him hint at the plan. “I don’t need my ship to destroy your whole planet” and so on.

“A man like that would have preferred to die fighting.”

How’d the diplomats get down to the planet? I thought the shields were still up.

They’re really giving Fox the Cliff’s Notes version of their society, huh? “Nice to meet you, you’re off to die now, sorry, really.”

Spock’s like “Oh, no, an Ambassador being killed?? How terrible...”

“Keep her from leaving. Sit on her if you have to.” Unexpectedly hilarious like wtf kind of order is that. And then the Yeoman like trying to look all fierce and Mea’s like “Yeah, okay,” eye roll.

“I’m practicing a peculiar variety of diplomacy.” Spock is such a bad ass. And he’s having a good time being action hero.This is why Vulcans think he’s weird.

Now he needs to find the Captain!

Kirk and Spock both using schoolyard tactics to win fights: tripping someone, the old spider trick. And they’re effective!

Quite possible even better than the spider scene is this ‘Spock comes to rescue his boyfriend and Kirk already has two guns trained on the room’ scene. “I thought you needed help.” / “Oh, I need the help.”

“We’re not going to kill today.” Honestly this one speech is deeper than all 7 seasons of the 100. Also more optimistic and nicer.

Kirk versus the computer again lol. This time, with firearms!

“A feeling is not much to go on.” IT IS IF IT’S A SIMPLE FEELING AMIRITE FELLAS?

“You almost make me believe in luck.” / “You almost make me believe in miracles.”

Honestly where the fuck is EITHER of those things coming from? Like no one was talking about luck and they definitely weren’t talking about miracles!! No one mentioned any miracles, Jim!!

He always gets so flirty after the danger is over, though. Every single time. “Ah, yes, all is well, now time to say something romantic or suggestive. As a treat.”

And then they play that weird comical music over Spock’s confused face as if that made it less queer.

So anyway this isn’t the official Vietnam War Episode but it’s kinda giving me Vietnam vibes. (According to the amazon trivia, I’m right: the computer tallies of the war dead was inspired by Vietnam causalities being shown on tv at night.) From an American perspective, it’s far away, it’s largely invisible, but it’s also long, it seems to exist for its own sake.

Also interesting that no one ever mentions why the two sides are fighting--probably because after 500 years, they don’t know. They just continue on in this mechanized, unceasing way.

That was a really good episode, and even though the actual danger of computer isn’t really what they predicted, I think it holds up regardless, in a different way.

I mean first of all technology has done a fair bit to sanitize war--the use of drones, for example, that allow the aggressors not to see their damage.

But also, and this is like only a half-thought really, but... One thing I think about a lot that the show didn't predict is that the internet allows us to see so much more than any other group of people in history. everything is very close, and there are pictures and videos and so on, from all over the world, available to you at any given time. I think this is very hard to deal with psychologically. So thinking about that in relation to this...it's a different balance but for the Eminians, war was both very real and close--it's constant, and people die all the time in huge numbers--but also very far away, because it's happening essentially hypothetically. So the dichotomy doesn’t line up in the same way but it still exists, imo.

And wow, that “we’re not going to kill today” speech. That was an interesting little wrinkle: that part of why the Eminians continued warring was because they felt like it was just inherently who they were. Their nature. Same philosophy espoused by all the grimdark showrunners of today. “I’m smart and brave and deep because I’m showing a mirror to humanity!! A MIRROR!”

And then here's Kirk, a Classic Hero, coming in and saying, "Yeah, wow, deep, you've determined that your species has a violent history. That's cool and all but have you considered that every single day you can consciously choose to make different, better choices?"

This was a good Kirk ep, a good Spock ep, and a good Scotty ep. It bums me out that he’s seen as comic relief now I guess... as my mom said, Scotty liked a joke but he was never comic relief.

I think it would be interesting to hear more of Spock’s thoughts in this ep, though. He’s the son of an ambassador and his people also had a warlike history that they dealt with in a way different to how humans do. But the method of problem solving of the Enterprise Captain and crew today was very martial, much more about brute force, and strategy as well, than peaceful talking--an overall plan I doubt many Vulcans would like. It would be interesting to hear how he thought of it all to himself.

Anyway, it’s getting late! Next up is a very decidedly good Spock ep, This Side of Paradise. Might be watching it on Wednesday so..not too long to wait!

#the year 2020 #2020: star trek #2020: fandom thoughts #star trek tos