#*da person who ran this blog all along to be clear

[souichipresents]

Does Souchi somehow care about his siblings deep down ? Also, did he enjoy the cake his cousin gave him for his birthday ?

Hello! Souichi ain't in at the moment, but this silly guy named Frankie Frankenstein* can provide an answer best as he can.

I think... in a lot of ways, Souichi was an incredible pain in the ass of a kid. But not in a way that's too special to just him. When you're young, wanting to be special, especially if you got the kinda dark tastes that maybe are weird to other kids... you don't always know how to act right.

So to me, as a humble fan, I think that Souichi probably really just wanted his siblings to think he was impressive, and cool. I think it's very telling that in his fantasies about being a scary grown up running a house of horrors, he still invokes his family members, you know? Like the selfish 'one day they'll see!' kind of stories a kid tells himself.

But I think that selfish desire to be impressive and scary shows he at least cared what they think about him. Maybe when he's older, they still won't get along! If he never stops being a pain until they're all adults, they'd probably still be in their rights not to want to hang out with him.

But then again, maybe those kinds of relationships are easier once you don't all live in the same house, too.

And I think he very much enjoyed that cake. I think the fact that his cousin hadn't given up on him entirely meant a lot to him; maybe more then he's really any good at saying.

I like to think when he's older, maybe he'll thank her properly. I also like to think maybe one day he could meet Oshikiri, and those two could calm down a little by being each others weird goth friends.

...Ah! Incidentally, for any Ito fans, let me humbly recommend a manga I have become very fond of! "Souboutei Kowasubeshi", aka "Souboutei Must be Destroyed" by Fujita Kazuhiro. You can find it on mangahere (which should have any ito chapters that lead to broken links on this blog, incidentally! My bad.) and i've found myself incredibly gripped by it. It reminds me in all the best ways of Black Paradox in it's mix of absurdist and horror, but much longer form. And maybe more... optimistic, maybe....? Well you'll see what I mean if you find it interesting. Not without it's flaws, but what is.

Ah! Hold on, I do have a message here from Souichi himself I think...? Lets see if I can read it through all the black ichor.... ah! Of course.

"Kyahahahaha!"

[teamhappyme]

to care for you

rafael barba x female!reader

referenced cases from S17E04 and S17E16

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my first fic that I’m letting the world see and I’m... terrified. i hope whoever reads this gets some joy out of it. shoutout to @qvid-pro-qvo and @hurricanejjareau , y’all got me roped into loving the SVU boys, and this would not have been created if I hadn’t found your blogs. big inspiration over here. alright, here we go friends.

****

“Well you’re going, right?” 

“I haven’t decided.” “Haven’t decided? It’s Liv and Noah, Barba. A christening for the cutest little boy and the most deserving mother. They’ve been through hell this year, they deserve our support. Besides, you’re a devout Catholic, you should be all in for this.”

“First of all, he’s getting christened in a Unitarian church. Second, I wouldn’t exactly use the term devout. The last time I went to church was with you and Carisi after that trafficking case last year.” He said while grabbing another slice of pizza. In your three years since joining the SVU this was the first time you saw Rafael Barba eat a slice of pizza. 

“Careful. You might get some grease on that thousand dollar suit, Counselor.” He glared at you before taking a bite. “If you’re worried about the priest smelling your absence out, Carisi and I have enough devotion to pass on to you.”

“I don’t want any of Carisi’s Catholic guilt.” “You need me to take your confession?” You asked with a smirk. 

There weren’t many people that could get away with pushing Barba’s buttons without getting chewed out by the ADA in his next breath. And when you first started out with the squad, there were many occasions where you and Barba had some heated arguments.

Getting transferred to SVU was an overwhelming experience. You were thrown into the understaffed department right along with Carisi, so the two of you had to step up pretty quick for the unit. There was no adjustment period, trust wasn’t built, it was forced upon the squad. It took about two months for you to really trust the other detectives, but once you did, the unit got into a groove. Cases were being solved left and right and you started to understand the routine of the SVU. 

Until you had to testify. It was six months in, and it was your first testimony with the unit. It was also the first rape case you worked with minor victims. There were four fifteen year old girls accusing their history teacher of rape, two of which disclosed to you. 

You prepped with Barba for an hour the night before, making sure you knew the case inside and out. You felt confident in your answers, and were ready to take the stand. Until the following morning. On your walk down to the courtroom with him, you rushed into the ladies room to vomit up your coffee and your anxiety. Public speaking was never one of your strong suits, and Barba had cautioned you to be prepared for Buchanon’s toxic cross examination.

As you washed your hands and cleared your face, Rafael stayed outside the door, even deterring a woman from coming in. Once you exited, he was waiting at the side, pulling a granola bar and stick of gum out of his blazer pocket. You took the food, as he gave you a nod and waited for your okay to continue the walk down to the courtroom. A slight nod of your own and weak smile got his feet moving again. 

That trial was the first olive branch extended between you and Rafael. He wasn’t one to offer warm greetings, and since you were often glued to Carisi’s hip, it was hard for him to separate you from the enthusiastic detective. There were passive aggressive comments relayed back and forth while trying to indict a perp, and long nights spent deliberating probable cause at the round table. But it wasn’t until you accompanied Liv to One Hogan Place, in a particularly bad mood when you sassed the ADA back after he made a comment about your witnesses being incredibly unreliable, not having time for the shenanigans. 

After that moment, Rafael knew that he could trust you. The passive aggressive comments yielded, but the sass continued. The repertoire the two of you were slowly building drew quite the audience, Carisi and Rollins almost always feeding the fire with more topics to discuss. 

About a year into your tenure here, you started to check in on Barba. The first time you stopped by was originally a business call. Liv needed a warrant asap, already staking out the apartment of a suspect. You rushed over to the courthouse, trying to find any ADA’s secretary when you saw Barba still in his office at midnight. According to Carmen, he rarely went home before 9:00. After that night, you made it a habit to check in on him at least once a week. The DA’s office was a cutthroat environment, and Barba’s office was an even lonelier place. 

Thursday nights were penciled in for your unofficial drop ins, almost through the week but still burning the midnight oil. You would show up around 10:00 with pizza for you, and sushi for his expensive taste every time, knowing neither one of you had time to eat dinner yet. Most of the time, the two of you would work on your respective cases, sometimes sharing notes if the work overlapped. But if it was a slow week, sometimes the two of you would just, talk. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who understood the demanding nature of the job. Your family in particular couldn’t understand why you loved this career so much, but your squad could. It was reassuring to have their support.

“Alright, enough with the holier than thou attitude, Detective. I actually wanted to talk to you about the case.” Sitting up a little straighter in your chair, you wiped your hands on a napkin as he pulled out a manila folder. “I’ve been encouraged by the D.A. to drop the charges against Bobby D’Amico and Noel Panko.”

“What?” “And I have a motions hearing scheduled for Friday morning to dismiss the charges.”

After everything the squad had done for this case, what you saw Amanda put herself through. It was all for nothing.

“Barba, you can’t be serious. We have three victims, two willing to testify. We have footage of them attempting to rape Rollins for crying out loud.”

“Kristi Cryer has changed her story too many times. She was raped, then it was consensual, it was Panko, it was Panko and D’Amico. A jury will never believe her story.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “The jury won’t believe her or you won’t?”

“Hey, you know this isn’t about what I think. This isn’t a case we can win. We have to look at the optics.”

“The optics,” you muttered as you stood up from your seat. “Multiple women were raped by two well-known men in New York society, and the D.A. doesn’t want to make any enemies, right?” 

“You’re taking this worse than Liv did.” You scoffed. “Am I? Good. Because for the rest of their lives, those girls will have to live with the fact that their rapists are still out there. Not to mention their reputations will be ruined. People are going to call them liars, and whores. Their lives are never going to be the same. All because you won’t stand up to the D.A. and do what’s right?” 

Rafael stood up now, his loosened tie swinging from the sudden movement. “If this goes to trial, it will not go our way.”

“What about when you went after DCFS? You went after Musio, Grayson, Sheridan,”

“That was different,” “Why because it was Liv?”

“Because the department was a mess, and there were months worth of evidence of neglect and backdating reports. You were there, and if I remember correctly you were fighting alongside Liv to get me to prosecute.”

You ran your fingers through your hair, not willing to accept that this case was over. “These girls deserve justice, Barba. You were there when Panko went off at Dodds, he knows he’s done.”

“I want these guys just as bad as you do, Y/n. But we do not have the evidence. It’s a he said she said case, with one other accusation from a year ago without a rape kit. Not to mention Rollins went undercover without notifying a superior, tainting the whole investigation. We will make a fool out of ourselves and lose this case in court.”

“And it’s all about winning for the D.A.’s office, isn’t it. Can’t do anything out of the kindness of your hearts, can you?” You knew you crossed the line as you saw Rafael’s shoulder’s drop the slightest bit, his jaw clenched in place. 

“Maybe if you passed the Bar instead of failing three times you could understand why we can’t pursue this. We can’t bring a case to trial based on our emotions. This isn’t your tissue loaded desks, this is a courthouse.” 

You broke the tense eye contact you were holding after his statement. Insulting your academic failures and empathetic tendencies in one foul swoop. That was a low blow, even for the counselor.

Rafael knew his words pierced you. He pushed his chair back and let out a breath, getting ready to back track. But you beat him to the punch. 

“You know, my capability of empathizing with victims is the reason why you’ve put so many rapists away. If they had to speak to you, there would be no cases for you to even prosecute.”

This wasn’t a normal spout between the two of you. Things rarely got personal, and if they did, they were never this spiteful. 

“Then I guess there’s a reason I’m prosecuting in front of the judge and jury and you’re dealing with the victims.”

You scoffed at his final statement. You knew he was cocky, but you didn’t think he would use your insecurities or shortcomings against you. Especially not the fact that you failed the Bar Exam three times, which was only disclosed to him once Carisi opened his big mouth.

Covering your head with your beanie, you made your way to the door before either one of you could do more damage. You fought the urge to apologize, knowing you would need space before you could think of a response.

“Have a good night, Counselor.”

****

“Oh my goodness, Benjamin! Look at that tower you made with Maura! Did you show Luke?” “No. Mama saw it!” You smiled at the two year old through the phone, his own grin lighting up the room even over facetime. “Benjamin, is mama there? Y/n/n wants to talk to her for a minute.”

“I can bring you to her!” Maura took the phone out of the toddler’s hands, but you quickly protested so you could say goodbye to your godson. “Bye Benny, I love you buddy.” He blew you a kiss and you caught it as your little cousin brought you across the room. 

“Auntie Leah! Y/n/n wants to talk to you.” She handed the phone over while settling in next to her aunt. You saw your older cousin’s calming face, and couldn’t help the tears in your eyes.

“I haven’t even said anything and you're already crying,” You let out a laugh and took a sip of water. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” 

“Y/n, are you at the precinct? It’s 8:00 your time on thanksgiving, what are you doing there?”

“There was some work I needed to get done. If I can’t be with you guys, I can at least get a head start so I can come home for Christmas.” The squadroom was empty now, but it had only been filled by the desk sergeant and a couple uni’s until five. You’d been here since noon, not succeeding in spending the holiday alone in your apartment. “Besides, I’ve been able to ignore all of my mother’s phone calls with the ‘I’m working’ excuse. Has she called you guys yet?”

“Just mom once. You know she doesn’t mean it to hurt you, she just wishes you could spend time with family for the holidays.” “I know.”

Your family meant the world to you, and having missed the last two years of holidays was hard on you. Sure, you saw them eventually, but Christmas and Thanksgiving weren’t the same alone.

“Since I’ve already started Christmas shopping, is there anything Benjamin needs or wants from his godmother?” “He has requested, and I quote, ‘y/n/n’s nummy cookies’.” The smile that spread across your face was so big it almost hurt. That baby boy was probably your favorite person on the planet, besides your own nieces and nephews. “Alright well hopefully he can help Y/n/n make those nummy cookies in a few weeks. If not, I’ll send a box out, along with an amazing present.”

“What about me?” Maura asked, and you just shook your head. “Hey, I’m not made out of money here girlfriend.” She laughed at that.

“Have you at least eaten anything today?” Leah asked, trying to steer the conversation into a more meaningful direction. She could read you so easily. “Yes, I have. I’m not going to be here much longer, so I’ll grab something for dinner on my way home.”

“Y/n/n,” The eight year old interrupted again, and you couldn’t help the smile that etched across your face as you rolled your eyes at the silly nickname. 

“Yes, Maura.” 

“There’s a fancy man walking towards you.” 

You turned your head and saw Barba walking through the squadroom. “I gotta go, Leah.” 

“Is everything okay?”

He pulled over Carisi’s chair, raising a brow to make sure it was okay. You nodded.

“It’s okay. Just a colleague. I’ll talk to you later.” “Okay. We love you and miss you.” Tears pooled in your eyes again as Maura hopped on. “Love you Y/n/n!” A tear fell from your eye as you let out a laugh. “Love you too guys. Bye.”

You ended the call, quickly wiping your eyes now that you had an audience. It was only last night that you had your rather animated argument, and neither of you had reached out. Being stubborn was one of many traits the two of you shared.

“Can I help you, counselor?” 

He held up a brown bag with a receipt stapled to the fold. “It’s thursday night. It’s usually you making trips to the office, but I figured I could take the field trip tonight.” 

He opened up the bag, pulling out cartons of Chinese food. Your hand immediately reached for the fortune cookies, ripping the plastic wrapper off. 

There was a lingering tension in the air, unresolved conflict, and hurt feelings, but it still felt okay. Mainly because the two of you knew you were both to blame. 

“How did you know I was here?” You asked while grabbing the carton of lo mein. “I called Carisi. He said you were supposed to be in Minneapolis for the holiday, but got wrapped up in the case. Said he offered his family to you, but after hearing the commotion over the phone, I understand why you declined.”

“I didn’t decline because of their raucous personalities. I just wanted to get some work done.” 

He digressed, retreating into his carton of fried rice. “What about you? Why aren’t you eating pie and decorating for Christmas with your lovely mother?”

“She volunteered this year. Since Abuelita died, she hasn’t been a big fan of holidays.” You nodded, knowing how hard it was for Rafael to grieve his abuelita last year. 

“How has she been doing?”

He shrugged. “She has good days and bad days. She blames herself most of the time, but she has her school, and her kids to keep her upright.” “And you.” His eyes met yours for a brief second, the corners of his mouth turning up the slightest. He always wanted to do more for his family. 

“Was that who you were on the phone with? Your family from Minneapolis?” 

“Yeah. I was supposed to go out there for thanksgiving, but when we caught Kristi’s case, I cancelled. I thought,” You stopped, knowing any mention of the case would bring up last night’s conversation.  

“We were going to trial.” He finished the sentence and you nodded.

If everything had gone according to plan, Panko and D’Amico would’ve been indicted this week and the trial would’ve begun the following week. You’d already started prepping Kristi with Rollins, making sure she knew her story backwards and forwards. But it was all for nothing it seems.

“Y/n, what I said last night,” You shook your head. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I started it, and was completely out of line.” 

“You weren’t. You were fighting for Kristi, and your case. I just, I didn’t want to hear it.” He ran a hand through his hair, not perfectly quaffed like usual. “I shouldn’t have brought up the Bar. It was low, extremely low, and you didn’t deserve it. You and Carisi could take me out in court in a day. And if you ever tell him that, I’ll deny it until I die.” You laughed while taking an egg roll, crossing your finger over your heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You let the apology sink in for a minute before starting your own. “I know you would’ve brought this to trial if we had enough evidence. I know that you care about the victims just as much as we do. I’m sorry that I said you didn’t.”

Poking around the container, he let out a scoff. “You weren’t that far off. I’m the D.A.’s puppet, letting him decide which cases I prosecute or not. We don’t have a lot of room for an emotional influence. I know how cold I can be with vics and witnesses.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t care.” 

“Tell that to Kristi Cryer. She posted a vlog today, ripped me a new one for not believing her. Called the D.A.’s office, and I quote, ‘a bunch of spineless jellyfish.’ She’s not wrong. I mean,” He let out a humorless laugh. “I went to law school so I could help people. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself the last twenty years. But in reality, I’ve been climbing the bureaucratic totem pole, pushing myself further and further away from that kid in the Bronx.”

“You don’t seriously believe what Cryer said do you?” He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. You sighed, placing the carton on your desk, leaning over to rest your hand on his arm. “You are the Assistant District Attorney for the Sex Crimes division. People do not last here if they don’t care about the victims. I’ve seen you in court, in testimony prep, hell even in interrogation. You care about every single person that needs our help. Does it suck that the law is not the most accommodating to rapists and pedophiles? Yeah, it’s really shitty. But you didn’t write the law books, as much as you like to believe you did.” A smile crept onto his face. “You care about your mom, your abuelita, everyone that helped you in the Bronx. I know you care about us, even Carisi, although you’d never admit it. You are not a spineless jellyfish, no matter how fun it is to say.”

“You really believe that?” He still couldn’t meet your eyes. It always amazed you how easily the most put together people could fall victim to their insecurities. 

“Rafael, I would not be spending every Thursday night for the past two years with you if I didn’t believe that you were one of the most kind-hearted people I’ve ever met. I care about you.”

His green eyes finally met yours as he moved to gently hold your hand that was previously resting on his forearm. He gave it a soft squeeze as you smiled, trying to ignore the butterflies that started blooming in your stomach. The same butterflies that rested there every time your hands brushed when you were walking down the hallway, or when his hand rested at the small of your back to escort you into the courtroom. And after tonight, and the way he was looking back at you, you knew he felt them too.

You spent the next ten minutes finishing off the takeout, sitting in a comfortable silence, not needing to fill the moment with anything else. The two of you kept sneaking glances at one another, breaking out into a sheepish grin if you were caught. 

Once you were done eating, Rafael cleaned up the food as you got all your belongings together for the long weekend. It wasn’t until that moment you realized he wasn’t wearing an expensive suit; he had on a navy blue quarter zip, black jeans, and some loafers. A smile crept up on your face knowing that you got to see him in casual clothes.

“Ready?” He asked as you slipped on your gloves and pushed your chair in behind you. “Ready.” 

You lived close enough to the precinct that it was only a ten minute walk. Rafael lived in the other direction, but still insisted on walking you back to your apartment. An Uber could pick him up from there, he said, because that man would not be caught dead walking across the city in his loafers.

He called for a ride as you approached your block, not wanting him to wait in the cold too long. As you approached the brick walk up, you started to fidget with the keys resting in your pocket. 

“Thank you for dinner. And a double thank you for not making me eat your sushi.” He smiled. “You’re welcome. Thank you for being such good company.”

“Anytime.” A sharp gust of wind hit you, causing you to duck your head into your coat for a few seconds. When you looked back up, Rafael’s cheeks were rosy red and wind burnt, and absolutely adorable. “I’ll see you next week for a warrant, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure. Make sure to get me a coffee on the way, listening to you list the legal reasons why you need the warrant always makes me sleepy.” 

You smiled.“Deal. Goodnight, Raf.”

“‘Night, Y/n.” 

Despite the farewell statements, neither one of you moved. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from his warm eyes, and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers brush against yours that you moved closer. 

His eyes flickered to your lips for a second, before looking back at you. You took another step towards him, waiting for him to close the gap between you. When he did, all you could feel was the warmth of his lips on yours, and the cold tip of his nose resting against your cheek. 

It was short, the two of you pulling away after a few seconds. But one smile from you had him leaning back in, resting a hand on your cheek as he kissed you again. It was slow and careful, but full of adoration. You couldn’t help but smile into him, bringing your hand up to rest against his own. After a few more seconds, his own smile made it impossible to stay connected. 

This time when you pulled away, you rubbed your thumb across his red, wind burnt cheek, not even trying to suppress the stupid smile on your face. And you were happy to see him grinning the same way.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” He said, shifting his head just enough to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. Neither one of you is willing to ruin this moment with any talks about what this means. “Okay. Get home safe.” “I will.”

One more look at his rosy red cheeks, and you let out a laugh before you let yourself pull away.

“What?” He asked, completely dumbfounded by his affect on you. You shook your head in response. “Nothing.”

He returned your laughter before lightly kissing your lips one last time. You could get used to this. 

“Goodnight, counselor.” You said once you pulled away, lightly shoving him toward the ride that just pulled up. 

“Goodnight, detective.”

****

[imagines-dreams]

A Good Name - Tim Drake Imagine

Rating: PG

Warnings: fluff and future, and a flustered Robin

Summary: As a part of Young Justice, you have seen a lot of weird things. But being called (Y/n) Drake was by far the weirdest thing. (Aka I read a fic that I can’t remember the name of where Impulse called reader Mrs. Grayson and I took inspo from that idea to make one for Tim! Someone, aka @despitealldoubts-blog found the fic so here it is! Future Mrs. G by @cait-writes-stuff inspired this!)

Word Count: 2785

“Stand ready,” Nightwing commanded.

The four of you readied yourselves as the unknown source or ball of electricity formed and dropped a transportation device of some kind. It dropped right onto the floor, smoking and whirring, and when smoke billowed out of it, someone jumped out.

“Ta da!” A boy, bright red hair, white and red outfit with a yellow visor. You didn’t recognize him from any database you’ve seen. Not a notable hero or villain. Maybe a hacker or inventor, from the looks of the machine. Could be a thief, an aspiring supervillain, or just a big fan of superheroes.

The alarm went off. “Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert.”

“Computer, lock down cave,” Nightwing said.

Gar tilted his head. “Well, I think we found our unknown energy impulse.”

“Impulse,” the stranger mulled it over. “That’s so crash! Catchy, dramatic, one word.” He appeared by Nightwing’s side. “Like Nightwing.”

A speedster!

“And Robin.”

To you, “And Knockout.”

To Gar, “And Beast Boy.” He blinked.”‘Well, that’s two words.” He talked even faster, and soon, he was trying to explore the cave to find things. With a laugh and a mock salute, he was gone.

“You three, take him down.”

“On it, Nightwing!” you responded. You cracked your knuckles and ran alongside Robin and Beast Boy. You caught him in a hallway and with a smirk, you punched the ground. It splintered under your strength. He wouldn’t be able to run.

And you were wrong. Impulse, whatever his name was, ran up the wall and over your head, back to safer and sturdier ground. You groaned. Nightwing was not going to be happy.

Robin sped out from the kitchen, just to trip on some dispelled tile.

You giggled. It was worth it.

Robin stared at you. “Nightwing’s gonna kill you.”

You shrugged. “Nah, I’m good. It’s nice to see you fall on your ass, Robin. Shouldn’t you have wings or something?”

“Guys, come back,” Nightwing said. “I’ve got him.”

Your jaw dropped. “How…” You shook your head.

Robin laughed and patted your shoulder. “Come on.”

As Impulse explained himself, you grew more and more confused. Time travel was theoretica, and no one could agree on what would happen if it was achieved. Does time travel work so that what you do in the past is actually what happened in the past, like time travel was meant to happen and was accounted for in a neat timeline. Or, was there different timelines, and if so, does the previous timeline disappear or does it become an alternate universe all on its own.

You pressed your fingers against your temples. This was just a tad too much.

“So,” Robin concluded, “you’re a tourist from the future.”

“Why look so surprised. Half the meat at Comic Con are from my era.”

Robin rubbed his chin, and you knew that face. He was doubting the information he got. Trying to find the tells of a lie.

You crossed your arms. “If you’re from the future, you should be able to prove it.”

“Ah, well, my identity is kinda a tell, if you know what I mean. Superspeed, the red and gold.” He smiled up at all of you. “I’m Bart Allen, grandson of Barry Allen. You know, the Flash, Barry Allen.”

“Noted.” Garfield smirked. “Not believed, but noted.”

“What’s not to believe? I’ve got it all! The speed, the amazing good looks.” Impulse’s eyes lit up. “Frankly, I can’t wait to meet him. You know, back when he was still in his prime and all.”

Nightwing sighed. “Well, Bart, coming all the way from the future, you must have worked up a thirst.” He brought a cup of water to the intruder. Tracker, no doubt.

“Thanks!”He sipped the water. “Oh! Ah, you’re trying to get my DNA!” he spat into the water. “That’s such a Dick Grayson move.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “How did…” He looked at his mentor, and Nightwing, or well Dick, just stared at him, trying to figure it out himself.

“Aha! See, I know things that only someone from the future with an amazing Flash legacy to carry would know.” He looked at each of you, and without pause, said, “Dick Grayson, (Y/n) and Tim Drake, Garfield Logan.”

You bit your tongue. That was not your name. Your name was (Y/n) (Y/l/n), not (Y/n) Drake. And Tim? As in Robin’s name was Tim. Tim Drake? Your eyes caught his, Tim’s, and thank god for Garfield, because he spoke before the two of you could stutter about what just happened.

“Your name’s Tim? And your is, uh, Dick?” Garfield cringed.

You smiled as much as you can, and with heat still blooming in your cheeks, you laughed. “Gar, your name is Garfield, like that cat who hates Mondays.”

“Hey!” Garfield poked your chest. “I don’t like Mondays. So, I take that as a compliment.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Tim agreed.

“See, thank you.”

Garfield groaned and covered his face. “No wonder you two got married.”

Just like that, Tim and you looked anywhere else but each other.

“Oops. Spoilers.” He shrugged. “The secret identity is so retro. You can call me anything. Impulse, Bart, Bart Impulse Allen. All’s crash.”

“He can’t actually be telling the truth,” Robin, Tim, insisted. “He can’t be from the future.”

Garfield leaned in close. “Tell us something we don’t know! Yet.” The boy smiled, so proud of himself. “So, when do I become leader? Or part of the Justice League! Or, hear me out, my reality show? Good answers only.”

“Sorry, BB. Never was the best at history. Plus, I shouldn’t say any more spoilers as to alter the timeline. I mean, now, Tim and (Y/n) might not get married and have Jack  and Anna. Oh, god, we will all be feeling the mode.”

Jack and Anna. “Kids?” You gulped and looked to Tim. Sure enough, he was staring at you, too. There was something in his eyes, behind the mask, that screamed surprise and awe, and you weren’t sure how to take that. Tim was your best friend on the team. Maybe not your best friend ever, since he didn’t know your name and you didn’t know his until after Impulse, but still.

He was so amazing, really. Intelligent, strategic, hard-working. You still got surprised every time he actually wanted to spend time with you.

And then, this kid from the future is telling you that that guy, your best super friend and the smartest person on the team, falls in love with you? Has kids with you?

Then, Impulse escaped. Beast Boy went after him, and Tim was back to clearing his throat and forgetting all the information he had just received.

You sighed. “I’m gonna go train. And, uh, Nightwing?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!” You pursed your lips. “Just, you know, some slightly chipped, broken, maybe possibly shattered tile in hallway B6.”

“Knockout-”

“Ok, bye!” You ran off to the gym. Nightwing had too much on his mind. He wouldn’t go after you just yet.

So, you took deep breaths. When you entered your small, personal gym, it came to life. The light turned on, and your playlist filled the air. You sighed. “Computer, I need you to search for Tim Drake.”

“On it, Knockout.”

As you worked out, you kept asking your room questions and pieced together bits of information.

“I need a list of billionaires who operate business at least once a month in Gotham,” you said, as you stared at the wall of holograms during your cooldown. “Cross reference the list with the list of people associated with Tim Drake.”

“The list consists of seven people.”

“Read them out, please.” You gulped down water and listened.

“Anthony Edwards, Roberta Stark, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor-”

“Wait.” You stared at the profiles of these people. Seven people that were both associated with Gotham and Tim. Only one of them fit the bill of eccentric billionaire who takes in kids and fights crime with only a tight suit and fancy gadgets.

“Bruce Wayne,” you whispered. “Computer, pull up a picture of Batman next to Mr. Wayne.” Oh my god, how did no one figure it out sooner. They even had a similar physique. “Who are children that are associated with Mr. Wayne?”

“Dick Grayson-”

“Aka Nightwing.”

“-Barbara Gordon-”

You’d recognize that bright red hair anywhere. “Batgirl.”

“-Jason Todd-”

The old Robin.”

“-and Tim Drake.”

You gulped. Four kids, just like how there were four kids under Batman. Two of which were named by the kid from the future.

“Pull all of their pictures up, along with Nightwing, Batgirl, Robin three years ago and Robin now.” All of their physical profiles were similar. Even Jason’s and Robin’s. And Robin’s disappearance was near Jason Todd’s reported death. Robin’s reappearance matched the year Bruce and Tim’s dad, Jack Drake, were acquainted.

You stood back and laughed. “Wow.” You were sitting one of the biggest secrets in history. You knew who Batman was! The Batman! You knew who Robin was, who Nightwing was, who Batgirl was. You knew all of their secret identities.

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“Robin!” Your computer hid all the files. “Find what out? Nothing to see here.”

“Mhm. Computer?”

“Yes, Robin?”

“Bring up the previous files.”

“Of course.”

You gasped. “Wait! No-” And all your files of the Batman and his associates appeared on the wall behind you. You shook your head. “Thanks, Computer.”

“You’re welcome, Knockout.”

You stared at your feet and joked, “I really should program Computer to detect sarcasm.” you turned to your data. “I still can’t believe no one knows. I mean, it’s obvious.” You pointed at Mr. Wayne. “This guy is one of the only billionaires who operates in Gotham weekly, and Batman is known to have multiple, custom made gadgets. Even if he made them himself, he’d need a lot of money to maintain that, so billionaire is in the description.

“Then, there’s the fact that Batman has many sidekicks or associates or what have you. So that means the the billionaire must be associated with kids, maybe even adopt them. And Mr. Wayne adopted two kids as his wards. The first one of the two being an orphaned trapeze artist who was adopted around the time that Robin showed up for the first time. And it helps that Robin was known to do amazing tricks and stunts when locking up criminals.”

With all the pictures and articles around you, you couldn’t help but wonder. “I mean, it’s obvious.”

Robin laughed. “To us, it is.”

You tilted your head. “Us?”

He nodded. “Computer, can search for a video with the keywords, ‘Grayson,’ and ‘quadruple somersault’?”

Two videos popped up, one of which was a small boy performing the very difficult trick.

“The second one. Now, Computer, bring up footage of Penguin and Robin about six years ago next to it, please.”

The two videos played at the same time, and you saw why Tim brought it up. The kid in the first video was a young trapeze artist, Dick Grayson. The second video had Robin perform the same difficult trick when he defeated Penguin.

You laughed. “That’s how you found out?”

“I saw Dick perform when I was a kid. I recognized it in this video, and when I thought I needed to, I approached Bruce.”

You blinked. “When you needed to?”

His shoulders dropped, and suddenly, you knew what Tim meant. Batman needed a Robin, and the only time he was without one was when Jason, the second Robin, died at the hands of the Joker. Tim sought out Mr. Wayne after that. “You don’t have to,” you said.

Tim smiled, but it was forced. “Thanks.”

You rubbed his shoulder. “You’e really smart for figuring that out at the age of what?” You looked at the Penguin’s video date. “Age of nine? Damn, Robin.”

“Yeah, I am smart,” he admitted. “I’m also smart enough to know you’re avoiding the topic we should really be talking about.”

Blood pooled into your cheeks. You took your hand off his shoulder and laughed. “What do you mean avoiding? I’m not avoiding anything.” You pointed out, “Plus, it could just mean I’m adopted or that we happen to have the same last name later on in the future or something.”

Tim raised his eyebrow. “Impulse said, ‘Have Jack and Anna’.”

“So?”

“So, use that smart brain of yours.”

You grimaced. “Are we really going to talk about it?”

“Yes, we are. We’re a team, (Y/n), and whatever happens, this” - he pointed at the two of you- “needs to stay in tact.” The superhero gulped. “I want it to stay in tact.”

You sighed. “Jack is your dad’s name, obviously, so the future he was talking about, well,” you laughed and pulled at your hair, “it means that we name a kid after your dad.”

“What do you think of Anna? Where’d that come from?”

You shrugged. “Could be anything.” You laughed. “All I thought was, ‘Wow, Anna Drake sounds like a good name.’” You shook your head. “Kinda ridiculous, huh?”

Tim was silent. Then, his cheeks turned red, and he turned away from you. You knew that look. He thought of something. He thought of something, and it was embarrassing enough that even the thought of of it made him blush.

“Nuh-uh.” It took two strides for you to be right in front of him. “No, you’re spitting it out. What is it?”

“Nothing!”

“Not according to those rosy red cheeks, Tim.” You pinched his cheek. “Come on, you can tell me.”

Tim shook his head and hit his own forehead. “It’s stupid.”

“Who cares?”

He sighed. “I thought, I was just gonna say, like, I don’t know.” He cleared his throat and glanced at you before looking at his boots. “I just, I think that (Y/n) Drake, it sounds like a good name, too.”

The smile you had so gleefully earned disappeared just like that. Not because you were embarrassed, although that was true. It wasn’t because you might marry Robin, aka Tim Drake, aka your best friend, or because you had been thinking of that name, your first name and his last name, for the past hour or two.

No, it was because he was right. (Y/n) Drake doesn’t sound bad.

“See!”

“Shut up.” You laughed and covered your face. “I don’t need this from you.”

“You asked for it!”

“I didn’t think you’d say that.” You exhaled a long and deep exhale and shook your head. You couldn’t let him do this to you. It didn’t matter that the two of you might be married later on. No, you had to get him back. You bit your lip and sauntered to him.

Tim’s eyes widened, and he froze. He stared at you, almost in awe of your newly found confidence, and even though your fingers shook, you couldn’t help but love the way he looked at you.

Your fingers brushed against his mask, and your eyes met his blue ones. When he didn’t do anything to stop you, you lifted the mask away from his face, and finally, his face was revealed to you.

You bit your lip and brushed his hair back. “You know, I don’t think Tim (Y/l/n) sounds too bad either.” You smiled up at him and played with one lock of hair that was out of place. “Goes well with this handsome face of yours.”

Tim gulped, and you could feel his heartbeat under his skin. It was frantic, but still, he didn’t move. Even when he sheeks got redder than yours, he didn’t move. He just smiled. “I, uh, I mean.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, you know, you being this close and playing with my, you know, hair and everything.” He gulped and looked down at his feet.

You giggled. “Run out of smoothness there, Robin?”

“Maybe,” he admitted.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. You leaned your head on his chest. “It’s ok, that was all the smoothness I had.”

“All of it?”

“Yep.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his chest. “No more smoothness from me. That was it. That was all of it.”

Tim smiled so softly and genuinely as he brushed your hair out of your face before resting them on your waist. “So no more smoothness from you?”

“Nope.”

“Not even on our first date?”

“Well, you got ask me that first?”

He laughed. “Ok then, Drake, what about a date?”

You hummed, as if in thought.

“Come on,” he pouted.

You laughed. “Yes, (Y/l/n), I’ll go on a date with you.”

[thestudyfeels]

Just finished reading a Paulo Coelho book. In three words, it was beautiful, poetic and life-changing. For the next few minutes, here’s what happened: I leaned back on my bed frame, eyes closed, my lips instantly parting into a content smile. Bliss. Then, I scrambled to my desk and grabbed a pen and paper, inspiration coursing through my veins. I had a mission to conquer.

… And here we are now. It’s rare to find books that give you ten times the energy you initially put into reading the book. The Alchemist, it turns out, is one of those prizes. It’s about everything I preach on this blog *adjusts halo on head* - pursuing your destiny, having faith, never backing out, bouncing back up from failure (read here), leaving a legacy behind - and look up to in my life.

Ahem, hence, this post is a big deal. Yes, a bigger deal than food. Pat, put that taco down, I see you. Listen, huh? (Clears throat.)

That said (no Pat, don’t you dare sneak in a bite), let’s talk about The Alchemist and its lessons. Get your comfort drink and a blanket, for this is a long one, bud. Stay till the end for free tacos! (But to think of it, Pat would’ve finished them by then, so… stay anyway? Thanks.)

Unless you’re a believer, miracles won’t happen for you. And trust me, miracles are one thing you will want on your side when you start your journey. Having faith, y’know, believing, is one of the common traits of the highly successful go-getters. Not trusting your capabilities, worrying you aren’t worth the life you are aiming for will become your inevitable failure. Why? ‘Cause, where your attention is, your energy flows.

Omens play a big role in deepening your faith. They are signs that you’re on the way to living your best life, an assurance that you’re on the right path. Omens can be anything - a vision you had that you could never quite forget (same), food that reminded you of something or someone (I’ve made you hungry now, oops) - ANYTHING. I know, this sounds all woo-woo to you right now but listen, when you start believing, magic happens, and the more omens you discover because the universe is now all hyped up for you. So firstly, believe. Then, you’ll see the impossible happening. Don’t do it the other way around.

  Omens? They’re like checking off items from a to-do list with the last one saying ‘live my dream life and kick ass every day.’ Who don’t like a checked off to-do now?

Here’s going deep. Ultimately, you know what will count? The number of people you impacted, the courage you showed in living your dream life, and the legacy you left behind. That’s all that counts.

My man, Shakespeare, is dead. Which… sounds rude when I say it. (Don’t haunt me Mr. Shakespeare, let’s not turn this into a real-life Hamlet.) Why do people still read his awesome (though I don’t get them) work? Leonardo da Vinci, my bro, is ‘dead’ too. Why do people still flock to see the Mona Lisa? (If not, they just search up Mona Lisa memes and I feel them.) To come to my point, the greats are great because they have the courage to do something different. You’ll notice that each of these wizards created something new and authentic. They were true to themselves. Imagine what would’ve happened if Shakespeare thought his work sucked and pushing Newton aside, started juggling apples up and down. I think it’ll be safe to say that Literature and Physics would both be effed up.

You are here on an important mission too. To find your passion and pursue it. Don’t waste those precious hours on shit that doesn’t fill you with happiness and satisfaction. Be like Shakespeare. He didn’t care that hundreds of years later, high school kids would hate him for his bewildering poems. He’s the real boss. After all, we are still reading his poems lmao.

Or in millennial speak, your homie. From whom you steal food because you know they wouldn’t mind (or maybe they would, but you don’t give an eff). Yup, that friend.

The best lesson that shone from this book (it’s a shiny book) was this - your heart? It is terrified to pursue its dreams because it fears losing everything along the way. It’s afraid of failure, of being betrayed, and, well, of heartbreak. Your heart believes this because all around, in our society, it witnesses people living meaningless lives and dying with regrets. It has gotten around to believing that this is the way to live. And so, this happens - “Helen don’t you even DARE think about opening your dream nail salon. How ridiculous can you be?! You’re perfect as a real estate agent, selling property and writing contracts for European clients whose names you can’t pronounce. I mean, hey, struggling to rent out ancient mansions isn’t that frustrating.”

Your heart will come up with all sorts of creative excuses UNLESS you manage to convince it otherwise, and make it realize “the worry about suffering is indeed worse than the suffering itself.” Once you do that, you’ll no longer need to ask for validation from others or seek happiness advice from your terminally sad friend - your heart WILL give you all of the answers.  

So teach your heart to be fearless and your heart will teach you how to remain so. Forever. *Mic drop*

Here’s a quote from the book: “‘I am, between my flock [he was a shepherd] and my treasure,’ the boy thought. He had to choose between something he had become accustomed to and something he wanted to have.”

Nobody ever accomplished something mind-blowing without encountering risk. Most people, however, are so afraid of stepping out of their comfort zones that instead they accept mediocre lives and die whining about how ‘everything is so unfair.’ Or complain they got no money while being jealous of everyone else’s success. Or “why can’t I have a hot boyfriend like Cayla’s man.” Jesus.

Because the thing is - we live like we’re scared of living. Here, I’ll wait till that sinks in… drowning in the quicksand of truth yet? Kay. I was in the shower making my stinky self clean the day this thought struck me. (#showerthoughts, ha.) I think I smiled. Or LOL-ed in my mind. It just sounded so stupid!

What if you had a SINGLE chance to become someone worth becoming? A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity came up. Would you really, really, continue to live your boring-ass life and lose the opportunity? That’s what life is about. It’s full of opportunities to turn the tables and have a new, exciting start. To leave a dull, boring life behind and never look back!

    But because they usually come at a price (like quitting your lame job and having the courage to start the business you’ve always wanted to), most are scared of leaving the shores to explore the dangers of the unknown. DON’T do that. Life’s not tryna kill you here. This ain’t no Jumanji. Be brave, my friend, trust that life has your back (it does), and take those risks that have the potential to change your life phenomenally.

Go out today and live an amazing, adventurous life because it’s short and you’ll never be this young. And, inch by inch, day by day, step out, pal. Step outta your comfort zone. THAT’S where the real danger is.

This was one of my favourite parts in the book. Here (spoiler alert), the boy was asked to find ‘life,’ an omen the Alchemist wanted to discover before guiding the boy to his destiny. The boy, as it always happens in stories, had no idea what the old man meant. So, my dude did this. He let loose the reins on his horse. The horse, drunk on freedom, ran and only came to a stop in front of a small hole in the desert ground. When the alchemist put his hand inside that hole, he found a tiny black snake (yes the snake bit him, but apparently he’s Superman). The boy had thus found life and could now begin his journey.

The hidden meaning behind this (authors sure love to do this to us, huh) was that life finds life. Similars attract. The horse had a feeling that there would be a living creature inside that hole, simply because they were both alive. Real deep shit. You feel me? Otherwise known as the Law of Attraction, this suggests that you attract the things you value or think about the most. To put simply, like = like.

For instance, if you’re a grouchy human and complain about the insignificants, I know two things about you (yes, I’m magic): A) you are not shiny at all, my pal, your life story is a pile of dust (the dust ain’t shiny either) and B) you probably have the same kind of lame friends too.

You attract what you give your attention to, whether subconsciously or not. Let’s say you value loyalty and think cheating is a big no-no. If you continue to value it for a while, you yourself will become a loyal hoe and not do the dirty deeds. Like = Like. Similarly, if you value hard work and relentlessness, eventually (it’ll speed up the process if you consciously work harder, BTW), you’ll find yourself having those traits.

Moral of the story? To make your life shiner, change your beliefs, attitude, values and personality to the affirmative. Life will be a blast for you.

And finally, the last one! Let’s end by saying life is going to throw many obstacles and adversities at you. It ALWAYS does. The pursuit to your destiny begins with beginner’s luck (in complex tongue, the principle of favorability) and ends with the victor being severely tested. Sadly, THAT’S the point where most give up. Just when they are inches away from their treasure, they give up. It gets too hard for them, they lose faith, stop trusting their instincts - and BAM, they’re back to square one.

  Don’t let that happen to you. Just know that all the obstacles you face, they aren’t failures. The only true failure in life is quitting. Everything else is just gathering information. And one last thing, before I leave and try to pry away that one taco I see in Pat’s hand, remember this quote, “the darkest hour of the night comes just before dawn,” and when life throws a fit, hang on, knowing your dream life awaits you just around the corner. You are going to conquer life. I’m so proud of you.

Want to read more? Here are some related posts:

Read my last post: Interview 3 - Living a life true to you)

Mentioned in this post: Bouncing back from failure

5 reasons why you’re unhappy right now

A list of all the books I have read so far in 2018

+ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box!

Well, that’s a wrap! I post new articles every week (the schedule’s here) so you can follow me if you are into killing the game & conquering life. I’ll do my best to help you in the tough yet amazing journey called life. ✧

If you want to go through my blog, I suggest picking your choice of post from my masterpost list! Or, if you want to read something insightful on your cozy afternoon while chilling under blankets, I recommend reading one of my interviews. Feeling spoilt for choices? Here’s another! If you want to implement the ideas I share in my masterposts by taking action, take on one of my challenges!

I hope you are well; stay strong and conquer life, you conqueror.

- Nandini (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[tmarie82]

Truths and Lies

Pairing: Naomi x F!MC (Marin)

Book: Veil of Secrets

Word Count: ~1,500

Rating:  PG-13 (for Marin's potty mouth 🤭)

Author’s Note:  Another installment of the angsty Naomi x Marin x Flynn love triangle mess, following Numb and then Just for the Day.  Sh*t's about to hit the fan, people. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list.  You can find all of my fics here - MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~~~

The ride back to Naomi’s house had been quiet, both women deep in their own thoughts as they trotted back to the real world.  Marin kept sneaking glances over to Naomi, the soft satisfied grin on her full lips instilling both joy and guilt in her at the same time.  Luckily Naomi didn’t seem to notice Marin’s inner turmoil, continuing to ride along in blissful ignorance through the peaceful meadow at dusk.  And when the car arrived to take her back into town, when Naomi held her so tight and kissed her so gently farewell, Marin knew she had missed her opportunity to divulge the truth of her mistakes.

That night lying alone in her bed at the B&B, Marin’s exhausted body finally gave in to sleep.  But instead of the much-needed peaceful slumber she sought, she was restless, tossing and turning in the sweat-soaked sheets. Plagued with visions of Kate’s fragile figure covered in dirt in the basement of that abandoned shack, of Tanner’s limp body slumped over lifeless in the armchair on his boat, of Flynn lying asleep under the stars as she slipped away into the night ...and last, of Naomi’s lips curved in a slight grin as she leaned forward to kiss her in the hay, silencing Marin’s confession yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, a groggy Marin dragged herself out of bed as the alarm sounded on her phone at 7:00am.  It was hard to understand how she could be so groggy when she really hadn’t slept anyway.  She fumbled with the one-cup coffee-maker on the desk in her room, groaning as she found the water reservoir was empty.  “I just need coffeeeeeeee ...” she groaned and stumbled into the bathroom to fill it.  

About 15 minutes, a warm shower and half a cup of coffee later, Marin was beginning to feel halfway human as she started dressing for the day.  She slipped into her most conservative and least wrinkled outfit, a pair of slacks with a blouse and a sweater vest, before tousling her damp hair and quickly weaving it into a loose side braid down her shoulder.  She studied her appearance in the mirror, obviously fatigued but at least pulled together, and said a quick prayer that it would be enough to impress the jury at Kate’s trial today.

~~~~~~~~~~

“And so, in conclusion, I think that Kate’s mannerisms and reputation speak to her overall character.  She has a big heart and she is kind to a fault.  There is no doubt in my mind that Kate couldn’t be capable of killing Tanner.”  Marin ended her response to Grant’s inquiry, flashing a reassuring smile to her redheaded friend before settling back against the chair on the witness stand.  

So far she felt the trial was going well today, Grant shooting holes through the DA’s arguments and having several witnesses (including Marin herself) painting a vivid picture of the sweet and caring Kate.  And the jury seemed to be eating it all up, with soft understanding expressions and nods as Marin outlined her relationship with Kate.  So far, so good.

“Thank you, Marin.” Grant tipped his head towards her, an appreciative smirk on his lips.  “No further questions, Your Honor.”  

“Thank you Mr. Emerson ...” the judge spoke dryly, no hint of any emotion on her face. “Mr. Hornby, would you like to address the witness?”

“Yes, Your Honor, thank you.”  DA Mac Hornby glided out from behind the table where he had been perched and walked slowly toward Marin on the stand.  A chill ran down Marin’s spine as he approached ... for while anyone else in the courtroom could only see the fake smile plastered across his face, looking at him straight on and up close she could detect something cold and devious underneath his show face.

“Good morning, Marin.  Thank you so much for your cooperation this morning.  I know we all want to get to the bottom of this and ensure justice has been rendered.”  His eyed crinkled at the sides in his smug grin, delivering the pleasantries he’d no doubt perfected after years and years of practice.  Shit, he’s good, Marin noted.

Hornby’s questioning started out simple enough, asking Marin about her childhood, her parents, her career ... everything illustrating her wholesome lifestyle.  Marin explained how she got into journalism, growing up playing reporter on the playground at school during recess.  The jury seemed content with her responses, and occasionally one or two would even chuckle at her colorful descriptions.  Everything seemed to be working in Marin’s, and therefore in Kate’s, favor.  What is he getting at?  Why is he going so easy on me?

“So Marin, it seems to me like you’re just the typical All-American girl.  Good citizen, hard worker, loyal friend ... just like your best friend Kate here.” Marin’s inner journalist squirmed with unease.  “But things, and people, aren’t always what they seem on the surface, now are they?”  Shit, Marin gulped.  Here comes the bomb. “Despite her good-natured demeanour, Kate O’Malley has some skeletons in her closet.  A rough childhood, a father that abandoned them ... and even her brother Flynn, who she’s very close to, was just released from prison.  Is that correct?”  He arched his brow at his last question, a devilish gleam in his eyes.  

“That’s not exactly true-“ Marin started.

“Yes or no?  It’s a simple question.” Hornby cut in.

Marin’s eyes flitted to Flynn sitting in the row behind Grant and Kate, his eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed with anger.  Despite his obvious frustration, he simply nodded his head in assent.  Her voice was shaky as she replied.  “Yes, that's correct.”  She lowered her eyes to her lap, anxiously fiddling with the hem of her skirt.  

“Thank you, Marin.”  Hornby replied curtly.  He paced in front of the witness stand for a moment, rubbing his hand along his jaw in silence.  The silence, the anticipation, was deafening as Marin waited patiently for the DA’s next question.  He cleared his throat but continued to pace aimlessly in front of her when he fired his next attack.  “And this same brother, Flynn, the ex-convinct ... is it not true that you two have been involved, both romantically and physically, since you arrived in Birchport?”

Marin heard a shocked gasp from the jury as she raised her gaze to Hornby’s face, her jaw open slightly in surprise. “I, uh ...” She glanced to Flynn, who was silently fuming on the bench, his head in his hands ... and then to Kate, a confused look on her face she glanced between Marin and her brother behind her.  In the corner of her vision Marin saw a familiar figure towards the back of the room, the dark-haired bronze beauty shifting uneasily against the back wall.  Marin met Naomi’s stare, a fretful look behind her glossy eyes as she bit her lip nervously.  Marin hadn’t even seen her come in ... her stomach churned, all the guilt and emotions from the past few days bubbling to the surface.

“Answer the question, please.”  Marin glanced back to Hornby’s sneering face.  “Did you or did you not have a relations with Kate O’Malley’s ex-convict brother?”  

Marin sat up tall, chin jutted forward as she fiercely stared down the legal bully in front of her.  But strong and proud couldn’t get her out of this one.  Her gaze softened and her eyes shone with remorseful tears as she turned back to Naomi.  “Yes.  Yes, I did.”  She felt a stabbing pain in her chest as she watched Naomi simply close her eyes, inhaling a deep breath before looking down to the floor at her feet.

Marin tuned out the murmurs in the courtroom, avoiding the judging stares and focused on the one person standing in the back that wasn’t looking at her.  Look up!  She pleaded internally, Just look at me!  But her thoughts were swiftly interrupted as DA Hornby continued to press on in his interrogation.

“Thank you for your honesty, Marin.”  There was that smug grin again.  It took every ounce of self control Marin had left to not stand up and slap that smug grin off his rancid old face as he turned to the jury.  “So it would seem that the witness here has a very complicated and close relationship to the O’Malley family.  Relationships that she would be willing to protect at any cost, I would reason.”  He turned back to look at Marin with a cold stare.  “Based on this I have a hard time believing any character assessments from the witness at all.”  He nodded towards the judge- “I rest my case, Your Honor.”- before sitting back down in his seat.

Marin sat, stunned and silent as she watched Hornby’s closing statement unfold in front of her.  Once he was sitting back down she slowly blinked, awakening from her trance before averting her eyes again to the back of the room.  Only this time instead of finding her target, she found herself staring at an empty spot along the back wall where Naomi had been.

To be continued ...

~~~~~~~~~~

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[popularmolds]

Best rap, 2017

In 2007, I thought I was very fast. That fall, I was one of the top sophomores at the Minnesota high school cross country state championships, which, believe it or not, are very competitive as far as high school cross country state championships go. Then it was winter. There’s no indoor track season in Minnesota; I played hockey, like I had for my entire life to that point, but I also ran 60 miles a week in toques and gloves and terrible things called “wind briefs.” I got ambitious and decided that in the spring, I wanted to be the fastest 15-year-old in the state, the Midwest, maybe the country. 

But in the first week of outdoor track, in the middle of a mile repeat workout we were running on the sidewalk (there was snow on the track), I felt bones splinter. There were stress fractures up and down my left tibia. 

Every afternoon for the next twelve weeks, I had to find a ride from my high school down to a suburban YMCA, chosen because it had a reliably deserted pool. I needed to get in some sort of cardio with zero impact on my bones. If you’ve never seen someone water run, it looks like a recurring nightmare playing out under fluorescent lights: a skeletally thin person in the water, upright, making all the movements he or she would make on the track, but moving impossibly slow, back and forth, end to end. It’s like quicksand. I would sweat and strain and grit my teeth, but I was barely moving. 

A couple weeks into my muggy purgatory, my friend Collin burned me a CD of an obscure album he’d found on a Wordpress blog. It was called Brokelore and was by someone named Grip Grand––clearly from the Bay, but we couldn’t find anything else about him. 

It blew me away. I listened to it every day, to and from the Y, in headphones or out of those primitive aux hookups that plugged into the cassette decks in my friends’ cars. He sounded gruff and grizzled, but we had no idea what he looked like. (Eventually, Collin found a short interview Grip had done with a blog, but we assumed the press photo was of the blogger, not the rapper. Sorry, Grip.) 

The record’s mostly self-produced; the beats have a little grit and a lot of warmth. Grip’s voice is tough, but elastic enough to bounce and bend and let the humor through. Grip is quick and witty, but threads the record with these incredibly earnest love letters to rap: "96 Tears” is an extended lyrical exercise, “Hip-Hop Classic” is the sound of someone pounding his fist on a computer desk, searching. There’s a song with Percee P (”Paper Cup”) and a song where Grip thanks Percee P for dropping that verse (”Showtime (That’s Entertainment)”). There’s “Handle That,” which was probably conceived as a parody of popular rap styles at the time but got mutated along the way and sounds like a good-faith alien transmission; there’s distortion and vocal modulation and lines like “While you pretend to be sick like Ferris Bueller / Grip Grand drop gems like a careless jeweler.” 

But it’s called Brokelore. This was a few months before the financial collapse; this was Oakland and San Francisco and the shadow of the early tech boom. Sometimes Grip and his Rec League comrades broach this with a light touch, cashing bad checks and skirting tax forms. (One of the album’s highlights is the remix of “Poppin’ Pockets,” where Grip and A.G. (!) rap joyously about having absolutely zero money.) Then there are the graver moments: “Out of Service” is a half-dreamed conversation with a factory worker who’s in limbo at a bus stop; it’s tearjerking but never treacly. “Tomorrow” is sorrowful. 

And then there’s “Love/Drama” which––this is not an exaggeration––is one of the most deeply felt rap songs I’ve ever heard. It’s structured as a letter back to a writer who ripped his last record, Welcome to Broakland. An artist responding to criticism looks defensive––and that’s the point. In the space of a few bars, the song unspools into a catalog of Grip’s deepest fears as an artist.

“My whole albums’s a jack: “Impeach the President?”  Yo, how done is that?  Tribute to early rap? DIY ethic?  No, a piss-poor producer—take my name off the credits.”

The song wraps up with a venomous couplet:“You’re so astute brah, every minute flaw, you heard it / Can’t wait to hear your album, it must be perfect.” But he’s not brushing off the critic. “Love/Drama” isn’t about brushing off a detractor, it’s about scratching and clawing and stretching $10 in groceries for a whole week, pouring yourself into a record only for it to be...fine. The kicker, then, is that Grip Grand internalized all of that and made a masterpiece. 

I say all that to say this: I don’t know if I would have found Brokelore today. Ten years after the fact, it’s ostensibly my job to find and write criticism of rap music, including obscure releases like this. But the economics of the media industry are strange: while it seems clear that people still want to discover new music, it’s difficult to get anybody to click on articles that present it. Music discovery has moved mostly to the curated playlists at streaming sites (so, radio) and there are fewer and fewer places willing to publish full-scale album reviews for artists who are untested or unsigned. I don’t spend enough time in pools. 

Of course, there are still massive communities of rap fans who dig for new material. But as it becomes more difficult to make a living covering it––and with the collapse of the blog world, which was invaluable for fans and artists in the mid- and late-2000s––there’s less time and attention given to smaller artists. Especially the kinds of time and attention that can be turned into money. (On that count, I physically recoil imagining how much bleaker the Bay Grip rendered on Brokelore has gotten.) 

The good news is that rap is in an exceptional place right now. There are vibrant underground scenes in cities across the country. In 2018, I’m resolving to take time, stay still, and appreciate rappers who would otherwise go uncovered. 

Notes/methodology: This list, obviously, includes both songs and albums. In most of the cases where either an album or a song from it could have made my top sixty, I chose whichever entry would rank higher, i.e.- I think “The Story of O.J.” is one of the ten best rap things from this year, while 4:44 as an album would rank a couple dozen spots lower. There are exceptions. “We Ball” would probably be among my top ten entries, but I wanted to give a nod to Meek Mill’s album because it hasn’t left rotation since it came out. Similar case with Boosie: “Webbie I Remember” could easily be in my top five, but BooPac should be on everyone’s radar, even if it’s ninety minutes. Slow down.

60. YG, “Pop It, Shake It” 59. Smooky MarGielaa, “Stay 100” 58. YBN Nahmir, “Rubbin Off The Paint” 57. Freddie Gibbs –– You Only Live 2wice 56. Muja Messiah & Roc Marciano –– Saran Wrap 55. Frosty Da Snowmann, “Oh My Gawd” 54. Wiki –– No Mountains in Manhattan 53. Greg Grease –– Down So Long 52. Chris $pencer, “Shark Wrestling” 51. Chief Keef, “Can You Be My Friend” 50. P.O.S –– chill, dummy 49. 2 Chainz –– Pretty Girls Like Trap Music 48. Young Dolph, “100 Shots” 47. Roc Marciano –– Rosebudd’s Revenge 46. Bbymutha, “Roses” 45. Sahbabii, “Pull Up wit ah Stick” 44. Nef the Pharaoh, “Bling Blaow” 43. J Hus –– Common Sense 42. 21 Savage –– Issa Album 41. Cardi B, “Bodak Yellow” 40. Deniro Farrar, “Can’t Touch Me” 39. Lor Jugg & Bandhunta Izzy, “Back At It” 38. G Herbo –– Humble Beast 37. billy woods, “Police Came To My Show” 36. French Montana, “Unforgettable” f/ Swae Lee 35. Rich Homie Quan –– Back to the Basics 34. Lil B –– Black Ken 33. Nipsey Hussle, “Rap Niggas” 32. A$AP Ferg, “Plain Jane” 31. Young Thug –– Beautiful Thugger Girls 30. Migos –– CULTURE 29. Playboi Carti, “Magnolia” 28. Why Khaliq –– The Mustard Seed 27. Snoop Dogg –– Neva Left 26. C Struggs, “Go to Jesus” 25. Lor Choc, “Fast Life” 24. RJ, “Blammer” 23. Tee Grizzley, “First Day Out” 22. OMB Peezy, “Lay Down” 21. Boosie –– BooPac 20. Meek Mill –– Wins & Losses 19. Kodak Black, “Patty Cake” 18. Drakeo –– Cold Devil 17. Don Trip & Starlito –– Step Brothers THREE 16. milo –– who told you to think??!!?!?!?! 15. 03 Greedo –– Money Changes Everything; Purple Summer 03; First Night Out 14. DJ Quik & Problem –– Rosecrans 13. Nocando, “1998″ 12. Goldlink, “Crew” f/ Shy Glizzy & Brent Faiyaz 11. Mach-Hommy –– Haitian Body Odor 10. Lil Uzi Vert, “XO Tour Llif3″ 9. Jay-Z, “The Story of O.J.” 8. G Perico –– All Blue & 2 Tha Left 7. Kendrick Lamar –– DAMN. 6. Tay-K, “The Race” 5. NBA Youngboy, “No Smoke” 4. Future –– HNDRXX 3. Armand Hammer –– ROME 2. Creek Boyz, “With My Team” 1. Open Mike Eagle –– Brick Body Kids Still Daydream

[woodlandelfuniverse]

For All Eternity - part 4

A/N: Finally! It’s done! I’m so sorry that it took so long but I haven’t had the time to write. But here it is anyways. Kind of long as well! You will totally hate me in the next chapter. This is not as bad as the next one though. I decided to wait with the extrem intensity to the next chapter. So enjoy for now! It is a bit sad though! But what isn’t on this blog;) 

Word Count: 1823

Part 3

Translation: 

Gwao hi - Go now  Man os lle? - What about you?  Ego - Go   

Amralime - My love  Hîr nín, Legolas - My lord Legolas

Maewado i Naug. Boe i nahd egeno. - Take your leave of the dwarf. You are needed else where.

You panicked when you saw the large barrier of wood and stone that trapped Fili in the house. Groans and tumbling wood could be heard from the other side. After a while it stopped and was replaced by an exhausted voice. “There is no way out! I’m trapped!” Kili tried to push his brother to find a way. “There is always a way! Try to move up in the house!” Rumbling could be heard and Fili’s groans echoed. “It’s no point, I can’t get out Kili!” “Sure you can, you must!” It was quiet for a while, then Fili began to speak again. “Tauriel, please save them! Take everyone out of here and bring y/n to safety!” “What? NO! We are not leaving him! Please Tauriel we can’t!” Bofur held you tightly so you wouldn’t run away. Oin did the same with Kili. “Get out of here!! Or we are all going to die!” Tilda and Sigrid were crying from everything that was going on. So were you. Bofur tried to calm you down but nothing worked. “Help him please!” Then Bofur whispered something in your ear. “There is nothing we can do love.” You shook your head and prayed to anyone who listened to save him. But the only person that answered was Tauriel. “I’m sorry y/n, but we have to go.” You sighed and felt truly defeated. You knew that you had done the same thing if you would have been in Fili’s position. Suddenly a flash of blond came jumping down from a rooftop. Tauriel immediately identified him. “Legolas! Where have you been?” He looked at our pained faces and answered. “I’ve been hunting an orc pack, you and y/n seemed to forget about that.” Tauriel rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. “Why is everyone crying?” Tilda pointed at the fallen roof and explained what happened. “So, master dwarf is trapped in there!” Legolas followed her pointed finger to the crumbles. He glanced at you and that was all it took. He saw the sorrow in your eyes. The same sorrow his father held. Loss. So he jumped onto the remaining part of the house and made a hole. Before he jumped into the destroyed house he turned to Tauriel. “Tauriel, Gwao hi!” She looked shocked. “Man os lle?” He looked at her and shook his head no. “Ego.” Then he disappeared into the building.

 After that Tauriel pushed the boat away from the house and started to paddle. “NO! What are you doing? We can’t leave them!!” She looked at Kili who had grabbed her arm in agony. “I was given a direct order; one I will follow.” Kili held a hurt look, almost pleading. You looked at him and he made his way over to you. He took you in his arms while you were crying. You kept repeating one name, Fili.

 ***

“He hit the Dragon! He killed it!” Everyone turned towards Bard and the now dead dragon. “That’s impossible!” “Well you better believe it elf!” You had regained some strength and decided to survive for now. You held Tilda in your arms and she was still scared. “Will we survive my lady?” You smiled at her and hugged her. “Yes we will Tilda.” Then you felt her shake and sob. “But my Da and Bain, are they dead?” You couldn’t answer that, you yourself had a loved one in the ruins of the town. But you wouldn’t give up hope. “From what I know about your father and brother, they should be alive and well.”  She smiled, but it fainted quickly. “What if you’re wrong?” You shook your head and held her small hand. “I’m never wrong.”

 Several hours later…

“DA! BAIN! Where are you?” The beach was full of desperate people, searching for their loved ones. You still held Tilda’s hand and after a long time of searching, you and Tauriel started to lose hope. Then you heard a commotion rising on your right side. “I wouldn’t turn on my own Alfred, not now.” Tilda recognized the voice as her father’s and ran to him immediately. “DA!!” “Come here!” The family was reunited once more. Bard walked up to you and put both of his hands on your shoulders. “Thank you, for everything my lady!” You nodded and placed your hand on his left hand. “Please don’t thank me, thank Tauriel, she was the one that got us out of there.” He turned to Tauriel and bowed. “You have my eternal gratitude, I will always be there, if help is needed.” Tauriel gave him an elvish gesture, a polite way to say thank you.

You limbed away from the group and looked out over the lake. “He would have been proud of you y/n! I saw you with Tilda, you never gave up.” You looked at Tauriel with tears in your eyes. “I blame myself for it, if he hadn’t held me in his arms, he would still be alive.” She put a gentle hand on your arm and smiled sadly at you. “But you wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t. Besides he may still be alive.” You nodded and started to cry again. Kili came and started to talk to Tauriel. Their love for each other was evident. You felt bad for Legolas though, he loved her deeply. Probably had for centuries and now her heart belonged to somebody else. That is something you couldn’t relate to, because Fili was yours the moment he saw you. “Come with me. I know how I feel; I’m not afraid. You make me feel alive.” “I can’t” You smiled when you heard Kili’s declaration. “Tauriel, amralime” “I don’t know what that means.” Kili smiled lovingly at her. “I think you do.”

“Amralime” Fili stroke your cheek lovingly while you looked out over the blue mountains. “What does that mean?” He smiled at you and took your hand in his. “It means ‘my love’” Your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up. You dropped your gaze to hide your face. He laughed at your nervous behavior. He placed one finger under your chin and made you look at him. “Yes, because I love you and you will forever be my amralime.”  

You sighed at the memory, it was your most precious memory of Fili. The first time he said those three words. One last tear fell from your face into the water. It created small circles that became larger and larger until they disappeared. Tauriel smiled Kili but stiffened when she felt a familiar pretense behind her. “Hîr nín, Legolas.” You turned around at Legolas’s name in hope of seeing Fili. But he was nowhere to be seen. “Maewado i Naug. Boe i nadh egeno.” You couldn’t understand what they were saying but from Tauriel’s disappointed face, it was not beneficial. You turned back around to the lake and sat down. When you put weight on your injured leg it was a lot of pain that came with it. But the pain of losing Fili was even grander than what a wound would ever be.

Tauriel came to your side and sighed when she saw your wound. “I will help you heal, you won’t be able to wait for it to heal naturally!” “Why not?” She gazed over the lake and her eyes landed on the mountain. “Because another evil is coming, a more powerful one than the dragon.” Her gaze was now on you. “We need you y/n, we are riding to Gundabad and so will you!” You frowned and threw a pebble in the water. “What’s the point anyway” She tightened her fists and looked at you intensely. “The point is that Fili saved you because he knew that you were special. Now you need to prove that you were worth saving, for him!” Those words made you think clear again, he wouldn’t want you to stop living if he died. He would have want you to stay strong, otherwise he sacrificed himself in vain. That’s when you decided to keep on hoping. You stood up and dried your tears. “Alright, so be it!” You and Tauriel walked into the woods were Legolas had two horses prepared for the journey. “Now, let me see your wound!”

 Meanwhile…

Kili walked up to Legolas when he saw your pained face. Tauriel gave him a look of, ‘I got this’. Then she walked over to you. “Alright elf, where is my brother?” Legolas turned to Kili and told him about how they escaped. “So, your brother is currently walking towards this spot. When we could hear the screams and cries, he told me that he would walk the rest of the way. He motioned me to ride along and see if everyone survived. And so, you all did.” Kili was confused by this. “So he survived. But it doesn’t make any sense, y/n is here, her well-being is everything he cares about! Why would he want to tarry?” Legolas nodded knowingly. “Yes he told me this, if that isn’t a good enough explanation for his actions, then I don’t know what is.” Kili was still confused and waited on Legolas to explain. Legolas looked over his shoulder to see you and Tauriel walk away. “A great battle is coming to the mountain. I’m not sure when, but it is inevitable, evil forces is drawn to Erebor. Therefore y/n will travel with us, because…” “…then she will be far away from the battle. If she knew I was alive she would never agree to leave.” The voice who continued to explain did not belong to Legolas. Kili turned around and was relieved to see who it was. There stood Fili, alive and well. “Hello brother.” Kili’s eyes widened and he stepped forward and hugged Fili. “You’re alive! But wait a second, y/n, she is heartbroken, now that you’re alive she’s hurting for no reason.” Fili shook his head. “No, the battle for the mountain will be the toughest yet and what if I would die? To put her through the same pain one more time would kill her.” Kili took a step back. “So you’re basing this on a ‘what if’?” Fili looked at the ground. “Brother please understand that this was a hard decision.” “It shouldn’t even be an option! I held her in my arms when she wept and called your name in the boat. That pain is not worth it!” “Kili stop-” “No Fili I won’t, yes you could die but so could she. Every moment that you have together is precious and I hope that we all survive this. Other wise you just threw away your last moment with her.” Kili turned around and walked aboard the boat. Fili sighed and turned to Legolas. “Take care of her!” Legolas placed his hand over his heart and extended it to Fili. “I will, she won’t be harmed!” Fili nodded and walked onto the boat. “I’m sorry y/n.”