#but i also think that goes hand in hand with fox starting to fray

[purgetrooperfox]

not to foxpost on the foxblog but I think we should all talk more about the cognitive dissonance that the GAR, and the Guard specifically, would have to deal with on an ongoing basis. they're brought up and had it drilled into them for a decade straight that the Republic is worth fighting and dying for, that it stands for justice and freedom and [insert patriotic buzzwords here]. they get deployed directly into a slaughter on Geonosis. they get assigned to Jedi who intentionally get them killed. they get assigned to the Guard and listen to Senators treat the war like an abstract, distant concept and the clones like equipment to be manufactured/replaced/disposed of. they're treated as subhuman by civilians. they're slaves in this system that was built up to be a shining star, a perfect example of democracy, the thing they're born to die for.

so what do you get. indoctrinated beliefs versus lived experience. sure, some of them turn (Slick) or desert (Cut), but most of them have to reconcile that conflict without walking away from the army altogether. Dogma is one end of the spectrum, going the route of "my indoctrinated beliefs must be true, so I'll selectively validate parts of my lived experience to align with them and seek out proof of them". Fives is, on Umbara at least, the opposite end, going the route of "my lived experience must be true, so I'll recontextualize my indoctrinated beliefs to match it". the Republic is still worth everything, but maybe we can't trust the Jedi, or the Kaminoans, or the Chancellor.

but the majority of them are going to fall closer to Dogma, otherwise the GAR would stop functioning or try to collectively rebel, right? it's easy to skirt around how deep brainwashing runs and how far people will go to resolve dissonance, but fmngmfng

so you take Fox in the context of Commander of the Guard, and you get "the Republic must still be worth it, so these rules and regs are in place for a reason, and even if they're not then they do work to protect us, and the Senate is doing its best with a bad situation, and the Chancellor wouldn't commit xyz atrocity because he is the Republic" and on and on and on to try to reconcile it all in his poor fucked up brain. how would he carry on with the slog of his job? how could he possibly have the space to wrestle with the contradiction? then the longer you lean into one justification, the deeper it sinks in and reinforces itself

anyway this has been needless over-analysis hour

[afpwestcoast]

Colony, Woodstock, NY, 11/12/22

We entered the venue and found a “television” on the stage tuned to AshyTV (aka Amanda’s 7yo son Ash in a couple of cardboard boxes). Amanda had poked her head out just before doors opened to warn us that this was happening. My friends Fuzzy and Mo were the first in the door and did most of the interacting with him.

There were several programs available on AshyTV, each with its own script. At one point Ash looked at his script and said, “I’m not doing this one. It’s too embarrassing.” He briefly showed us the script which was basically a piece of paper completely filled with “poop poop poop poop poop …” written in childish scrawl. When we selected the Weather Channel he said, “Today it will be sunny … or cloudy.” After a pregnant pause he admitted, “I don’t really know.” To which we replied, “Oh! So you ARE a real weatherman!”

At one point there was some discussion about whether some money should be inserted into the slot in the “television,” you know, to keep AshyTV up and running. At first Ash was very hesitant to ask for money (taking after his Uncle Jason, no doubt), but after some gentle coaxing from Fuzzy he warmed to the idea.

“So you would like some money?” Fuzzy asked.

“Yes.”

At this Fuzzy instantly turned around and yelled, “Tom!” Because I am a wallet with legs. Apparently. I gave him a dollar.

After leaving the stage Ash dispatched his minion (aka Krys Fox) to deliver a signed, handwritten note to Fuzzy. All of this reportedly caused him to strut around declaring that since he had A) been on TV, B) gotten paid, and C) handed out an autograph he was now officially rich and famous. Definitely a tough act to follow.

On closing night it is almost impossible not to sit and reflect on the entire stint of shows, so here is my high-level analysis.

Thursday night was by far the most polished of the three. The band was fresh, energetic, and well-rehearsed. They torched through their set with nary a hiccup and clearly enjoyed themselves. This is all well and good for Professional Musicians, but (let’s be honest) is not necessarily what we’ve come to expect from The Dresden Dolls.

Friday night they were more tired, but powered through. But you could tell that the edges were starting to fray a bit and they were losing a bit of the virtuosic control they exhibited on Thursday. This all came to a head with the collapse and epic recovery during Sing (which was well-timed, by the way, considering that this was the last song of the night). I think when they lost control they found themselves. Forced to improvise on the spot and create magic out of mayhem, they remembered Oh yeah! This is what we do! This is who we are!

And then came Saturday.

On Saturday the band was exhausted and all out of fucks. But they were also emboldened and fearless. Let chaos reign and we will make it our bitch. THIS was the Dresden Dolls of old. THIS was pandemonium turned into art. THIS was the only place in the universe that I wanted to be.

Overall I would say that Saturday night was the best night by far. However, the best moment of all 3 shows was the acoustic Sing at the end of Friday night.

Some Highlights:

Svitlana Zavialova (aka Wu Woman) performed another mesmerizing dance of martial movements and created another spontaneous painting. What a joy to watch!

Just before Mandy Goes to Med School, Manta conveyed to Amanda the breaking news that the Nevada Senate race had been called, securing control of the Senate for the Democrats. There was much rejoicing (and oh so relevant to the topic of the song).

You would have thought that Brian had learned his lesson after breaking a lightbulb last night. Tonight he broke two. A shard from the first one hit me on the cheek less than a centimeter below my eye. It’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.

After the show last night we were talking to Manta and he told us that they were going to make a video of him playing on Fight for Your Right tonight to show to his son. So when he hit the stage tonight we started chanting MANTA! MANTA! MANTA! so his son would know he’s a rock star. For the first half of the set I was standing right next to rock photographer extraordinaire Krys Fox, which meant I had to temper my traditional drunken flailing somewhat so as not to interfere with his sight lines. But in the second half - after appearing on stage for Delilah - the lovely and talented Veronica Swift appeared beside me. We bonded instantly and spent the rest of the show bopping and dancing and singing along at the top of our lungs. So. Much. Joy.

The Aftermath:

Sunday morning I was sitting, collecting my thoughts and assessing my state. I decided that these shows were the psychic equivalent of a Rolfing massage. I felt completely worked over, but also fully at peace and oddly content. I realized that there had been a huge Dresden-Dolls-shaped hole in my soul for the past five years.

But that will apparently not be a problem anymore! At the Patreon brunch Amanda announced that soon (6mos to a year) The Dresden Dolls would be her full-time job(!). This will entail some changes to the Patreon. She said The Dresden Dolls are the visible mushroom above a huge subterranean mycelium support network of staff and crew and venues and fans that is invisible to the casual observer but critical to the band being able to do what it does. The Patreon will be woven into this network to help ensure that the band can focus more on art and less on business. The full contours of this change have yet to be defined but I have full faith that it will be amazing!

Annotated Set List:

Good Day (Brian on guitar then drums)

Sex Changes

Gravity

Bad Habit

Backstabber The first pause in the set came earlier tonight than in previous nights driven by the fact that Brian didn’t have the set list. 

Modern Moonlight There was some initial confusion over whether to solicit audience participation and what key they were in. Amanda decided to punt the plan and press on regardless, but the audience joined in nonetheless.

My Alcoholic Friends toward the end of the song Amanda sloppily took a shot of something (provided by Manta) but ended up spitting most of it out over the crowd. As you do.

Missed Me This was the most fun I’ve seen them have with this song. It all started innocently enough with Amanda screwing up the lyrics right off the bat (as is tradition). About halfway through I started to notice a lot of small shards of wood bouncing around on Brian’s drums when all of a sudden he put his drumsticks down, picked up the bass, and started playing it, leaving Amanda befuddled. Then he curled up in a ball on the stage behind the drum set prompting Amanda to announce “Brian has left the band!” Eventually he bounced up and retook his seat, so Amanda yelled, “Brian has returned!” But after a few furtive drumbeats he stood up and walked off the stage, so Amanda repeated “Brian has left the band!” She clearly had no idea what he was doing but was willing to let things play out to see where it went. When they had finally reset and seemed ready to continue Amanda had forgotten where she was in the song. She started rapidly muttering the lyrics under her breath and when she got to “If you miss me, mister, why do you keep leaving?” she yelled out, “OH I GET IT: HE KEEPS LEAVING!!” They did finish the song. Eventually. 

Mrs. O

Astronaut

Delilah (featuring Veronica Swift) Brian gave Veronica a bit more detailed introduction tonight. She comes from a family of jazz / bebop artists and has been a Dresden Dolls fan since she was 12. She put out an amazing album called This Bitter Earth that features a cover of Sing, which is how Brian became aware of her. 

The Gardener (Brian on bass and drums)

Whakenewha (pronounced Fuckin-A-Fa) Amanda said that she had written 2 albums of Dresden Dolls songs while in New Zealand, but while she might use a couple of them most of them were going in the trash because she’s not the same person anymore.

Ultima Esperanza

(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (to Party!) (Beastie Boys cover) Manta on base, Amanda on drums, Brian on electric guitar. 

Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover) Amanda singing from the balcony, Brian on guitar from the stage. 

Mandy Goes to Med School Amanda called this the jazziest song about abortion and proclaimed that America needs more jazz songs about abortion! Somehow an unexpected cover of Careless Whisper by George Michael spontaneously emerged towards the end of the song, but honestly there’s a nonzero chance of that happening any time Amanda sings. 

Coin-Operated Boy THIS IS NOT A SONG ABOUT A VIBRATOR.

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

Half Jack Both of their dads were in the audience tonight and this was not the first time that had happened. The first time, many years ago, Brian’s dad was enthusiastically requesting Half Jack but was told that Amanda couldn’t play it in front of her dad. Now she can. There is no wound that cannot be healed.

Girl Anachronism Amanda asked, “Who here did not have a complicated childhood?” When I raised my hand Amanda yelled at me, “FUCK YOU TOM YOU HAD A COMPLICATED CHILDHOOD!” I replied, “No, but I’ve had a complicated adulthood!” To which Amanda sniffed, “We’ll talk about it later.”

——

Truce Brian introduced a young drumming protégé of his named Dylan, who was in the audience, and then ceremoniously presented him with a fractured mallet attached to a drumstick with gaffer’s tape. Brian had shattered the mallet at a show at the Paradise in Boston in 2017 and had to MacGuyver a solution to finish the show.

Sing A motley collection of crew, friends, dads, and colleagues filed onto stage behind the band to join in on this one, as befits closing night.

Photo Gallery:

AshyTV is on the air! (2nd & 3rd photos by Moran Kerpick-Isaacs)

There is a villain on the loose. He sent this message. -Ash

Official set list

Good Day. Pretty much the only song they play fully dressed.

Whatever else you want to say about The Dresden Dolls, they certainly have expressive faces!

Amanda: I am displeased.

Brian: Whattaya want from me??

If anything Veronica Swift was even better on Delilah tonight.

Amanda looking like a punk cabaret Statue of Liberty.

The Gardener’s coming to collect.

MANTA! MANTA! MANTA! MANTA!

Fight for your right!

Amsterdam!

Always in contact, constant communication, each feeding off the other.

All and sundry (both dads!) on stage for Sing; an epic finish to an epic show.

The author in his natural habitat. (Photo by Hayley Rosenblum.)

My partner in crime, Veronica Swift. (Photo by Krys Fox.)

Family portrait! (Photo by Krys Fox.)

Amanda sings In My Mind at Sunday brunch.

[bondsmagii]

Regarding beloved toys becoming real a la the velveteen rabbit

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Matthew Calhoun, regarding a living childhood toy. Original statement given January 23, 1998. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

I didn’t have any friends as a kid. I’m not exaggerating – I didn’t have any. There’s always that one kid in every class who’s just… well, a reject, really. It sounds harsh to say, but I don’t really blame them for it. Of course, I would have preferred it if they’d just left me alone; ignored me rather than tormenting me, but that’s how it goes. I can’t excuse their cruelty, but I can excuse their dislike of me. I really, really can’t blame them. Now I’m an adult, looking back on it all, I really… well, is it bad to say it? I suppose I should just be honest. I’m about to admit to much worse. Alright – I hate my child self. I’m embarrassed by him. If I had a kid like that, I—I don’t know if I could say I wouldn’t love him, but let’s just say my sympathy would be limited if he was getting teased. I was unbearable as a child. I was a swotty little know-it-all; I snitched on my classmates; I always had a smart answer for everything. I’d try and get people to talk to me or hang out with me and when they didn’t want to, I’d stick my hand up and tell the teachers they were being mean. I was a grubby little kid, too, which wasn’t really my fault at all because my parents didn’t have a lot of money when I was growing up, but I had other gross habits I could have probably avoided. I didn’t like to brush my teeth, so my breath always stank. I picked my nose in class with absolutely no shame, wiping it underneath the desk. God, when I think about it now I could just throttle myself. Like I said, I don’t excuse the cruelty that my classmates – and sometimes my teachers – inflicted on me, but I do think back and wonder why I managed to feel so victimised over the fact nobody wanted to hang out with me. I mean, who the hell would? This, along with the fact I didn’t have much to do at home thanks to my parents’ low income, combined to make me both very bored and very lonely, and that’s what led to the reason I’m here today. It’s a confession, as much as anything else – the only reason I don’t want to go to the police is because I know they won’t believe me at all, whereas at least I stand a little chance of being believed here. Maybe then you can judge me accordingly. It’s what I deserve.

When I was eleven years old, I murdered one of my classmates. Her name was Vanessa Smith, and the newspapers reported that she had been attacked and mauled by dogs while walking home one late afternoon. Her injuries were so severe they couldn’t think of what else could do it. Of course, no dog was ever found. They tested so many of them, inspecting them for traces of blood, for pieces of human remains in their waste. Nothing showed up, because no dog killed Vanessa Smith. It was me. Alright, not by my own hand, but I was the cause of it. Let me try to explain.

When I was four or five, my grandmother read me a story called The Velveteen Rabbit. It’s a children’s story about a toy rabbit who comes to life because the little boy it belongs to loves it so much. I was fascinated by the idea, and for years believed that such a thing was possible. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have any toy animals, or really any toys to begin with, because my parents really had no money at all. We lived in a tiny house where all of the furniture was on loan; we had one sofa, a wooden chair, a bare mattress to sleep on each, and really not much more. My parents were on a steady upward trajectory as I grew up, so by the time I made it to high school we were at least managing to present as normal, but when I was a kid my toys were whatever I could find in the garden. My parents would send me out the moment I got up and I’d come back in as it was getting dark; in the winter they let me stay out until bedtime, because it was warmer for me to be running around outside than sitting still in our heatless home. Those were cold, lonely hours, and as I grew I found myself thinking back time and time again to that story – about the power to give something life because it was so loved. I thought this was fully possible. I was only a kid, and kids will believe anything; that was also my general understanding of how babies were made – that two people loved one another so much that they created a third. Well, I didn’t have another person to help me, and I didn’t want a little brother or sister. I wanted a friend. The thought that I could bring a toy to life myself, just out of love, utterly consumed me.

First, though, I needed a toy. Even second-hand toys were out of the question, money-wise, and I had no friends to ask for cast-offs. In the end I improvised. I found a scrap of fabric from one of the old sheets my mother had fashioned into curtains, and I lay it flat on the ground and filled the centre with a few rocks for weight, and as many dry leaves as I could find. Then I pulled all four of the corners up, twisted the fabric down to meet the filling, and tied it off with an elastic band. The end result looked kind of like a radish, I guess, or a strangely shaped ghost. Still, a felt-tip pen gave it eyes and a friendly smile, and I even drew a couple of fangs at the corners of its mouth, just to make it a little more boyish. I called him Sammy, and he became my best friend. He went everywhere with me aside from school, because I knew damn well what the other kids would do to him. Outside of school, though? We were inseparable. We ate breakfast and dinner together, we went roaming around together, he watched me as I dug around in the back garden or on the trails behind the house. He sat on the toilet seat as I had my cold baths; he slept next to me in bed. When he got a little crushed and out of shape, or the leaves disintegrated beyond anything I could shape them back into, I would play at putting him to sleep so I could “operate” on him and fill him back up again. I still remember the glorious day that one of my parents’ pillows split beyond repair, and my mother, meaning well, I’m sure, gave me some of the stuffing for Sammy’s head. After that he was almost a proper stuffed toy, soft instead of jagged, but I think it was that improvement that doomed me. He got stronger after that. I started to dream about him.

I was eight when I first made Sammy. I was ten when the dreams started. At first he would just be there, normal as ever. I would be carrying him around, we’d be doing our thing. Then one day the dream was different. The two of us were sitting at the breakfast table and it was dark outside, but the sky was a strange, beating red. Sammy was sad; I knew this somehow. I asked him what was wrong, and he said to me, “I’ll never be a real boy without a heart”. Then he lay his head on the table and began to sob. I woke up, feeling utterly wretched; I wasn’t even scared. I pulled Sammy to me and cried myself. I was utterly despondent. I knew I had to do something, but what? That was when I realised I could make him a heart. It might not be great, but it would be something, right? That very morning I drew a heart on a piece of paper, coloured it in my most vibrant red, and tucked it into Sammy’s fabric, securely tied underneath the elastic band. I thought he seemed much happier after that, and increasingly I was certain that he wasn’t in the same place as I’d left him when I got back from school. This excited me, because I was sure it would work somehow. I loved Sammy more than anything. He was my only friend in the world. I knew that some day soon, Sammy would have to come to life.

The hearts kept getting crushed out of shape, or fraying, or otherwise getting worn. Every time they did, Sammy would whisper to me – no longer in dreams now. In my head, in my ear. His breath tickling my cheek, smelling of mulch. Always the same things. “I’ll never be a real boy without a heart.” I kept making new ones but he started getting angrier; they never lasted. “I’ll never be a real boy without a heart! I’ll never be a real boy without a heart!” I wanted to do my best for him but he was starting to scare me. I didn’t know what to do. I told him this. For the first time, I got the impression he was mad at me for being sad, when he never had been before. But what could I do?

I got my answer the summer I turned eleven. The rabbit had been left right out on the trail I always walked to get from my parents’ house and into the woods behind it. It had been mauled by something – a fox, I thought – but not eaten. Its chest was open, and its small little heart was right there for the taking. I don’t know why I did it. It was disgusting, and what’s more I knew that if I put a real heart in Sammy it was going to rot, and stink, and Mum would make me throw him out. I knew all this, but I still couldn’t stop myself. I walked quite calmly to the rabbit, carefully pinched its heart between my fingers, and pulled it free. It came so easily. Nothing needed to be cut or wrenched; it just slid out, and within moments it was tucked inside Sammy. I heard it begin to beat.

Sammy wasn’t mine after that. I still tried to love him, but I was scared of him. I couldn’t understand what had happened. I thought love was supposed to be a good thing, you know? That’s what I’d been told. I wondered what it meant, that my love had created this. Everyone else’s love created nice things, fun things, safe things, warm things. My love had created this… this monster, this wretched little thing… I loved it out of fear. I was too afraid to let it know of my contempt, because I didn’t know what it would do to me. I think it knew anyway, of course. I think it knew I feared it; I think it realised, on some level, that I still had some of the power. I could throw it into the fireplace, for example. I thought about that a few times; even thought about asking my mum or dad to do it for me, act like I grew out of Sammy and was embarrassed of him. Sammy could sense it. I could have done it, I think, when it had the rabbit heart. Only a small heart, a rabbit heart. Not good for too much exertion. But I hesitated, because I was scared, and I thought if I ignored it and just left the heart to finally fail – because it had to eventually, right? – Sammy would be back to begging me in dreams and I could get rid of him – of it – once and for all.

That’s not what happened. I was out playing in the woods, must have been August. It was near to school starting back, and I was stressed about it because for me that was a line in the sand. I’d tried to tell myself I’d get rid of Sammy before I started Big School, high school, you know, but I hadn’t done anything and I was really wigging out about it. Sammy was with me, of course, sitting propped up against a rock while I dug around in the mud by a small stream. I guess it was the running of the water that muffled the footsteps, because when I finally heard them and turned, it was too late. Vanessa was stepping out from between the bushes, and her eyes had locked on Sammy. She wasn’t ever overly cruel to me at school, but she laughed with the rest of them whenever I was being put through the torment of the day, and like all kids that age she had it in her to be cruel. I was frightened of her, in the same way I was frightened of all my classmates, and the look on her face as she looked between me and Sammy told me this was going to be wholly unpleasant. I just adopted the stance, you know: feet together, eyes down. Waiting for abuse. She asked me if this was my toy, and then she went on to tell me how stupid and ugly it was, and then she went on about me getting some real toys, oh, wait, you can’t afford that… normal stuff, and at least she wasn’t going to hit me, because the girls never beat me up. She did go to pick up Sammy, though, and I yelled at her not to. Not out of any protectiveness towards Sammy, but because I was scared. Vanessa didn’t know Sammy like I did. She hadn’t noticed Sammy’s beady little drawn-on eyes somehow managing to swivel, to follow her, to lock onto her. The way his smile widened slightly, and I finally noticed how many teeth he had.

“I’ll never be a real boy without a heart.”

She reached down to snatch Sammy up. She was saying she was going to throw him into the stream. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even call out a final warning. She reached down and he was on her. I still didn’t see him move. He was just… there, and there was blood, and I could hear something tearing, and Vanessa was screaming so loudly. I should have helped. I should have tried to do something, but I was too scared. When I finally managed to move it was to run away. I fled through the woods, not bothering to keep to the trails. I ran blindly, crashing through the undergrowth, falling, dragging myself up. When I got home my parents were both at work. I scrubbed myself, scrubbed the worst of the mud from my clothing, tried to breathe. Tried to convince myself that I had seen it wrong. Vanessa would be fine, right? I even managed to tell myself Sammy was scaring her for me, sticking up for me. I waited in terror for Sammy to come home, but he never did. I was glad, but I also… I mean, it’s always better when you can see the danger, right? The thought that Sammy was out there, of what he might do… but I never saw Sammy again.

Vanessa – or what was left of her – was found the following morning. The woods aren’t big. Pretty much as soon as it was light, search parties found her. I don’t think anyone was happy with the dog story. I’ve avoided looking it up over the years, but I’ve heard things here and there. I know they say that the injuries inflicted on her were severe, even for a large dog. It’s more like something you would expect from a bear, or a big cat. Plus none of her was eaten, I don’t think. I mean, I’ve never heard it. Nobody suspected me, because why would they? My parents didn’t even ask about where Sammy had gone. I guess they figured I’d finally grown out of it.

I don’t know if there’s anything you can do with this statement, or if you’ll even believe it. I doubt there’s much room for research. I just wanted to tell somebody. Maybe if I was religious this is the point where I might go to confession, ask to be absolved. I’m not religious, though, and I’m not sure I can be absolved of this. That’s it.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Mr Calhoun is right. Not much can be done in regards to looking into this further. Attempts to reach Mr Calhoun for a follow-up statement were thoroughly unsuccessful thanks to the fact that he committed suicide shortly after making this statement. The records show that eleven-year-old Vanessa Smith was indeed mauled to death by a large dog or dogs in August 1971, though the story never really gained traction in national newspapers and further information is scarce. Martin spent an afternoon looking through online newspaper archives for the area and managed to find only one piece of new information; something that could easily be dramatization considering the fact it stopped being reported within twenty-four hours. I include it here only because it seems significant regarding Mr Calhoun’s story. Apparently young Miss Smith’s body was badly mauled but mostly uneaten – there was only one missing body part, believed eaten, and that was her heart.

Aside from that, there is nothing new to say about this one.

End recording.

[redrabbitspod]

I've been looking at the BLM tag for the past few days. I've been talking with my roommates and my boyfriend about everything that's happened. We plan on going to a protest this weekend, we're in the South. I'm scared, because one of my roommates is POC and I'm trans. I was wondering, then, if you had tips for us? My roommate has asthma, though it hasn't affected them since childhood and I bind, so a main concern is if we get hit with tear gas and struggle to breathe.

OOC: I know you probably wanted Seth or someone to answer, but I’m answering this ooc because I think it’s important. Your roommate that has asthma, I think should just consider the state of their lungs and should go to planned, organized event, and get out early. I’m in New York and I’ve been to every protest in my area dealing with BLM in the past 5 years (most in Baltimore). But I think I can speak for many downstate New Yorkers (I’m on Long Island), that most of us know someone that has had Covid. And most of us know someone who’s died. It’s no joke. Its absolutely fucking horrific and if I didn’t have asthma, putting me at a higher risk, and if the family I live with were not over the age of 65, then I would be out there, in NYC too.  But my asthma is also pretty bad, so if they haven't had problems since childhood, their lungs are probably strong. 

Now about you and binding, if you struggle to breathe, then realize that running will be a struggle as well. And running is your main asset when the protests turn. And since you are trans, know that the police may treat you differently. I’m not trying to be all doom and gloom, but this is serious and I think you all have to look at the cons as well as the immense pros in this. This has to do with your safety though. 

With all of that being said, I think going to an organized protest would be fucking amazing. Yesterday especially there were dozens of beautiful protests around the country. Most start at 11-1 o'clock and can be found on facebook. Go if you feel you are safe from the virus or can safely distance! (which i stand by is very very important to consider. But I am also a New Yorker at risk, so I have a different perspective.) 

Some tips are to keep your eyes and ears open. It only takes one instigator - may that be the police (in MANY MANY CASES) or others, always keep an eye and an ear out for people looking to turn the crowd. That is very VERY important. 

In 2015, I went to an organized protest near City Hall in Baltimore, Maryland. it was only a small group of us. Like VERY small. And after facing off with mustache asshole from Fox news, we all headed towards the inner harbor to meet with other groups of protestors from other schools. When we all met up, a woman came running and saying, ‘don’t go near the jail. it’s a trap and they’re going to arrest all of you’. This was after the national guard was already in the city, and we already had the unrest the previous Saturday in the inner harbor. The first ‘riot’ in Baltimore. I turned to my friends and we had to ask ourselves if we wanted to get arrested. We were in sophomores in college and that would affect our scholarships. We decided we couldn’t take the risk and walked all the way back to our dorms. 

The moment I got into my room, I heard shouting from outside. I raced to my window and the crowd grew by the THOUSANDS. My window faced North Ave, the notorious street in Baltimore. I threw on my shoes and I grabbed my phone and I ran back out there. Split decision. I didn’t have any friends with me, no buddies. And I (perhaps stupidly), threw myself into the fray. It was the most fucking amazing experience of my life. And it was the biggest protest in Baltimore at that time. I didn’t have to know anyone, because we were all screaming for one cause. It wasn’t until we walked around the entire city, through Sandtown where Freddie was killed, that we reached the inner harbor and I found my friends. But it was 8:30 by then and approaching curfew, which was 9 o'clock. We raced to get home before that struck because the police had been getting violent in previous days. That’s where this picture was taken from.

NOW WHAT FUCKIN RELEVANCE DOES THIS FUCKIN HAVE. 

I heard that the tides were going to change. That the police may get violent and this was after already experiencing the police yelling shit at us, flipping us off in previous college organized protests, and watching them beat the people every fucking night. You HAVE to be conscious of those around you. If you hear that people have started to throw shit, unless you’re about that life and want to take the risk, LEAVE. And as non-black people, DO NOT BE AGGRESSIVE IN THE UNREST. The best thing you can do is create a barrier around the black protesters. The best thing you can do is try to help those around you. But don’t be one of those fuckin idiots that are spray painting on buildings, throwing shit, setting shit on fire, because it reflects badly on us. We will be blamed for it. Not saying I think you would do that, but keep that in mind. 

Here are some quick tips summarized:

Watch out for unrest. The people start getting violent? leave. You cant continue the fight if you get hurt. 

the POLICE START GETTING VIOLENT?! Get. the fuck. Out of there. And help anyone you see that needs it. 

Keep your eyes out for a med booth or those supplying first aid. I’ve heard they are spread all throughout the protests, ready to aid.

Bring your inhaler

Write the number of your friends on your body. This day and age people don’t know each others numbers. It’s very easy to lose your phone when shit pops off. And if you get separated, you’ll be happy that you have it written somewhere. Just make sure its non-visible. Some people ended up getting doxxed during the last uprising. 

Write the number of a friend that is not there, someone you trust, as well, in the same manner. If someone is handing out the number of someone representing legal counsel, take it. 

Bring water with you. That is vital. And snacks. Keep your energy up in the sun.

I saw many things saying unlock your phone so people can get to your information. Do not unlock your phone. If it gets stolen then you’re fucked and if it gets in the hands of the police, you don’t want them searching through your shit. On your lock screen put all necessary information. Your picture, name, age, phone number, and the phone number of the person you trust. 

Bring a black sharpie. You need to write shit down like the name of someone getting arrested? you’ll be happy for it. 

stay together. try your best to not get separated. One goes, you all go. You do not want to lose someone in the fray. 

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A MASK OR SOME SORT OF FACE COVERING. FABRIC, MEDICAL, WHATEVER. NOT ONLY DO YOU WANT SOMETHING TO PROTECT YOU, BUT SOMETHING TO PROTECT YOU FROM FACIAL RECOGNITION. 

tie back your hair if you have long hair. 

wear baggy black clothing. you want to be as non-descript as possible. you do not want the police to be able to easily profile you. 

stay far away from the fuckin cops. we saw in ft Lauderdale yesterday that it takes ONE COP to start it all. 

If you have medical supplies? bring them. 

If you see opposing parties trying to start shit like the trump supporters and white supremacists infiltrating the crowd? RAISE THE ALARM. TELL. OTHERS. 

POLICE ARE INFILTRATING THE CROWDS AS WELL. I’ve heard that they're changing armband color every day. So if you see an armband, tell the people around you. It’s usually on the upper bicep and keep your eyes open for anyone else like that. This is important. 

AOC posted this fantastic guide:

And you can find the entire thing here

Please stay safe, stay alert, stay aware, and thank you for fighting. 

Black Lives Matter.

- BloodyDamnit

[lemonietrinket]

Trio ||| Minhyuk x Reader x Jooheon

Summary: Movie nights with your favourite bickering friends is always an event to behold. Everything is peaceful with your trio of giggles, and that’s the way it would stay. You were sure of it.  Genre: Fluff Warning(s): Oneshot that accidentally gained a plot that may now need a sequel but I’m busy so idk Word Count: 2831 Theme Song: Humph! - Pentagon AN: December 12 prompt, movie night. Credit as usual goes to @songi-writes I’m going to keep tagging I’m sorry I don’t want to be annoying but I feel like a thief otherwise I’m sorryyyy!! Do I call him Jooheon? Joohoney? I do not know ..... i love u bb joo i promise

~~~

The living room was filled to the brim with near-manic giggles that didn’t falter even as you entered the room. Confusedly tilting your body round the door frame, you caught a glimpse of the thick fluffy blanket on the sofa moving as if it had a life of its own.  The amalgamation of pastel blue fluff juddered as another roar of raucous laughter emanated from its depths, its sides flourishing and stretching at random while it snorted unceremoniously.

Quickly grabbing the snacks from the kitchen counter, you hurried into the fray, coming to a halt directly at the side of the beast.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the shapes rippling beneath the blanket reflected one person being held captive by the other, and, going by the sudden convulsions at one end, said captive was being tickled ferociously—leading him to kick wildly in response. 

You didn’t even need to listen in to work out who was the perpetrator here, though deciphering who started it would perhaps be a trickier endeavour. 

Dropping the snacks on the coffee table, you crouched down strategically, aiming to free the victim from his torture.  Tactfully, you leant in at an angle that allowed precision and accuracy, and low enough so to avoid any collateral.

And then, you struck.

Minhyuk took the jab below the ribs with glamorous dignity. And glamorous dignity meant shrieking like a fox.

The manoeuvre gave Jooheon a chance to escape, which he took gladly, knocking the blanket off his head and breathing a huge sigh of relief.

“It’s not over yet soldier!” you exclaimed, swooping in to protect him from recapture, catching Minhyuk’s arms as they swung round to grapple Jooheon back to his body. “Honey, get him!”

 “Oh!” Jooheon was startled, but immediately dug his fingers into his band mate’s sides. Cackling, Minhyuk tried to wriggle free, but found himself laughing too hard. 

“G-guys! Sto-! P... h—yah!” 

“We will never relent!” you declared, letting go of his wrists, deciding he was rendered practically immobile by that point, and joined in on the assault.

Bad move.

Instantly Minhyuk caught you instead, dragging you onto his chest and using his legs—albeit trapped in the end of the blankets—to push Jooheon down onto the two of you. 

Yelping at the sneak attack, you were immediately trapped in Minhyuk’s grip, leaving him free to do whatever he wished, which in this case was unleashing an merciless attack upon your stomach. You were left barely able to breathe between laughter, your body shifting wildly with every jolt of giddiness, while Jooheon was left to collapse on your back, cheek squished against your shoulder as he scolded the perpetrator weakly.

Minhyuk laughed victoriously, his master plan of a cuddle pile coming together neatly, even though he couldn’t really breathe either. 

Suddenly though, there was a high-toned thud that made you all freeze.

“What was that?” Jooheon asked groggily.

You grimaced. “The remote, I think.”

The two turned simultaneously to glare disapprovingly at Minhyuk as you groaned, it no doubt being a consequence of his kicking legs.

“Hey!” he whined, “I didn’t know it was there! Also you were tickling—! You can’t blame me entirely!

Clambering off the sofa, you left him to pick up the blanket as you joined Jooheon in searching for the lost remote.

He had his head hanging down the gap between the sofa, end-table and armchair, attempting to spot the black remote in the shadow there. You rolled your eyes at the slight lack of common sense, leaning over to turn on the lamp on the table. 

The click and sudden ability to see made him jump slightly, but he swung himself a little further down nonetheless. “I can’t see it here!” he called.

You huffed, scowling exaggeratedly at Minhyuk who reciprocated with an even more hyperbolic pout, before laying your hand on Jooheon’s back, indicating for him to stand up.

You felt his body stiffen slightly at your touch, head reappearing to make eye contact with you, bemused. 

“I hope it’s not under the chairs,” you remarked, crouching down onto the carpet, “otherwise Minnie’s in big trouble!”

You heard Jooheon laugh at him and say a teasing comment that you couldn’t quite make out as you pressed your head onto the floor, your phone flashlight on.  Your shoulders slumped as you spotted the remote nearly in the very centre of the space below the armchair.

“Found it,” you sighed, obviously disgruntled, “it’s under there but it’s too far for me to reach and,” you got to your feet, brushing your hands on your shirt, “like hell I’m sticking my hand under there.”

“Why not?” Minhyuk asked, tugging Jooheon’s ear until you pursed your lips at him, to which he smiled, wide and bright, and let him go. “You... scared?”

You protested his accusation. “Uh?! Hyuk? Are you not scared of the under-space? That’s the place where demons live, I’ll have you know.”  

He scoffed, passing Jooheon and patting you on the head. “Well, I’m not scared, I’ll get the remote.”

“Yeah, and because it’s your fault it went missing in the first place, remember! You are totally doing the washing up today.” You chuckled at the huff you heard from the floor.

The other man just laughed. “There’s no such thing as demons, Y/N.”

You looked him dead in the eye, slightly taken aback by how beautiful his eyes were. Fashioned of a gemstone in normal situations, in the lamplight they had become the glittered pools of two galaxies. “Can you be sure?.”

As you perched on the edge of the sofa, you could barely stop the giggle from arising from your throat as you heard Jooheon check with Minhyuk that demons didn’t exist, the laughter gradually dying in his voice. 

And especially when the man on the floor just brightly replied, “If thinking that helps you sleep at night, sure!” 

Jooheon looked back to you, a highly unnerved expression upon his features.  He looked so adorable when he was ever so slightly petrified.

“Oh, Honey, it’s ok they don’t exist, I promise,” you cooed, motioning for him to come and join you on the sofa. He obliged, soft lips set in a trembling pout, taking the space to your left and curling into your chest as soon as you opened your arms for a cuddle. You couldn’t resist squishing his cheek gently, reassuringly holding him close.

“And even if there was, Honey, we’d never let them hurt you,” Minhyuk added, before jumping up victoriously, remote in hand, “I got it!”

You nodded, playfully smushing both of Jooheon’s cheeks so his lips were pursed. “Besides, most demons are nice anyways. They just get a bad rep.”

Minhyuk sent you a quizzical look, but you pointed to the TV, silently asking him to load up the film. “We’ve procrastinated long enough, I think.”

He put his hands on his hips. “The things you make me do, Y/N.”

You pulled an indignant face at him, which he mimicked right back, before turning to the set, opening the box and placing the disk in the tray.

Once it was done, he returned to the sofa, retrieving the blanket and arranged it so it covered you and Jooheon nicely, and then finally climbing under himself.

“Thank you~!” you sang, watching him shuffle and get comfortable, before inclining towards, but not quite against, your free shoulder. You wondered how long it would take for him to give in and sprawl across you, basically making you into a pillow for two tired dorks. 

Not that you minded. They were so warm, and you like being crushed with affection, genuinely. The true remedy for touch-starvation. Besides, it was your choice of film, and though you were interested in it, it wasn’t one that the other two were that fussed about, so you’d foreseen this.

Taking the remote from Minhyuk as he shifted, you held it to Jooheon, for him to press the buttons. After all, though arguments over who got to use the remote was something you had not foreseen the first time, you weren’t about to let that happen again any time soon.

The film menu screen faded into black, and you felt Minhyuk’s arm snake around your waist.

50 minutes, you thought, 50 minutes will be how long it takes before they’re out like lights.

.

.

The film was as enriching as you expected, and you couldn’t help but mentally gush about just how on point the metaphors were, or how the colour schemes helped foreshadow the unfurling events—you realised as you went. And usually it took a lot to distract you from all movies. However, the two things that could distract you the most were situated on either side of you, and they were doing a brilliant job of it by somehow putting in as little effort as possible.

It hadn’t taken long at all for Minhyuk to give into resting his head on your shoulder. He’d started off by nuzzling his nose into your neck, deliberately trying to distract you so you would hold his hand. When you did as he wished, he decided he was happy with his head upon your shoulder, and so there he remained. Eventually, he untwined his fingers from yours in favour of holding you in his arms fully, and so you resorted to threading your fingers through his hair, very carefully easing out any knots you stumbled across. 

That had been what sent him to sleep, you reasoned, with his arms clutching you like a teddy bear. Very occasionally he hummed in his sleep, tiny whines or murmurings of something barely understandable. One time you thought he’d uttered the word ‘love’ but it was hard to tell, with his mumbling coinciding with a swell in the music of the film.

It remained though that you’d no doubt overestimated his willpower by a good 40 minutes. He hadn’t opened a single packet of snacks, nor asked what was going on. It amused you how quick they were to lull into the arms of sleep when warm and coddled. It made you feel good, that they felt secure in your arms enough to drift off whenever.

Meanwhile, it was Jooheon that had proved to be much stronger, willing his heavy eyelids not to droop too low and lull him into a sleep. He was sullenly watching the film, somewhat transfixed by its motions and colours, rather than the messages and dialogue, but he’d stayed awake for a while, even if he hadn’t gotten anywhere near the 50 minute mark.

“Hey Honey, you doing ok?” you whispered, smoothing his shirt sleeve beneath he blanket. 

He nodded once, lacking the energy or the desire to do anymore than that. He was perfectly comfortable where he was, not wanting to move a millimetre if it meant causing even the slightest bit of discomfort. 

“You want any snacks?” you enquired, receiving the tiniest shake of his head. It wasn’t like you could reach them anyway.

You rubbed his back, feeling him press closer into you, if that were even possible. “It’s ok, Honey, you can go to sleep. Heaven knows you need it after the week you’ve had.”

It was if you’d whispered the final command of a hypnotist, as right after the words left your lips, he let his eyes close, nestling his hands to grip your shirt rather than the blanket loosely, and gave into sleep. 

You felt your heart lurch as you felt Jooheon’s breath steady. Glancing across carefully at Minhyuk and admiring how the light of the TV arched across the bridge of his nose, you found no respite as your breath hitched in your throat.

You’d never questioned what you had. You were eternally grateful to have it. You had two people who cared for you so deeply that they immediately travelled to your door from the other side of the city, when all you did was mention that you were a little gloomy that evening. You of course would have done the exact same. But what was it all?

You didn’t let the voices owned by all those unsettled and interrogatory faces into your thoughts that often, because what use was it? But even your obstinate tendencies couldn’t deny that they all did see something, that they all then latched onto like limpets. Constantly asking if one of them was your boyfriend. Acting overtly surprised when you shook your head vividly and asserted ‘no’.  Questioning if you were leading both of them on. And then never letting the idea drop no matter how many times you saw them, no matter how many times you requested them to. 

It was none of their damn business, you were close as friends, a peaceful trio uncomplicated by labels. Friends could be close and touchy and clingy if they wanted to, and you told them that, square to their faces. Only to find them laugh at you strangely. 

That laugh, you’d witnessed in other scenarios, was the one that people always used when they knew something the others didn’t. The laugh people heard when they asked about their favourite character to an older fan, which never indicated their safety. The laugh people uttered under their breath when the movie was paused and they knew something bad was going to happen to one of the characters.

Dramatic irony. 

But you weren’t in love with them, either of them, neither Minhyuk nor Jooheon. No. Well, at least not in that way. At least, you thought.

A particularly loud mumble brought you out of your thoughts, as Minhyuk shifted his weight on your shoulder. 

“Min?” No response. 

You exhaled in a quiet chuckle. From his new position, you could see even less of his face, his lips instead pressed against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His grip was tight at your side, as if he was afraid you’d leave.

You moved your hand from his hair, and placed it at his waist, caressing the sliver of bare skin you found uncovered there absentmindedly. 

Your thoughts swirled, urging you to pull him closer—both of them closer. Even though they were both practically on top of you, you wanted them closer.

What did that even mean...?

You shook your head, taking a glimpse down at Jooheon, fast asleep. A mistake, as you suddenly felt that rise in your soul again. It wasn’t a new feeling, but you’d never felt it this strong before. You’d always written it off as a protective, almost nurturing feeling.

You forced your eyes to focus upon the film again, but you’d lost track of what was going on. The colours blurred and merely danced in front of you.

You wanted to...

No. That was completely, utterly, wholeheartedly a bad idea.

No matter how inviting the idea was, no matter how close they were.

You were just sappy because it was dark out and you were tired and because they’d been so sweet and funny and endearing. 

But it was too late.

With your conscious miles behind, your body seemed to behave by itself.  It was as if you watched yourself in third person. You supported Minhyuk’s head with a hand, as you leant down and placed a kiss onto Jooheon’s hair. Returning, you did the same for Minhyuk, brushing some loose strands back into place. 

You sat up straight again, eyes naturally returning to the screen, and for a solid five seconds there was utter tranquil. No disturbance of a thought, no incessance of a noise.

And then your consciousness slammed back into your head as you realised what you’d done.  What had you just done?

.

.

Panicking, with your chest heaving, you sought an escape route. 

As smoothly as you could, you slipped out between the two of them. Making sure their heads were supported and their bodies covered with the blanket, you praised all the gods evidently watching over you at that moment that they didn’t wake up. Then, you snuck out of the room, into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Sitting on the cool floor, focusing on your breath that was ringing in your ears, you interrogated yourself.

What did you do? Why did you do it? What were you going to do about it?

What you did not know was that they didn’t have a clue either.

When they decided to pretend to be asleep, they had expected to pull a ghost prank on you seamlessly. It would end in you screaming, chasing them around the place, and finally more cuddles when the film was over. They’d checked the bed earlier that day, it was certainly big enough for all three, despite what you’d said!

But now they were stuck, eyes flickering over each other’s faces, on opposite sides of the sofa.

“She kissed you?” Jooheon whispered first.

“Yes!” Minhyuk replied. “You too?” 

“On the head, yes!”

“Same!”

Maybe things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated for the three of you. 

~~~

AN: I’m sorry this fic was late, a lot of things got in my way yesterday. I’m really sorry it turned into a character piece too lol. Y/N has many feelings apparently sksksk

This was also not how I imagined this would turn out. I’m always adding plots to my oneshots pls save meeeee

I will fix up the masterlist soon, I promise. 

College is a pain in the ass and coursework is murdering my soul so yeet me.

I’ll write the next part at.... some point.... 

Feedback is always welcome too like, I’m going to try and edit all of these after christmas so if you think something is too long then lmk 

I’ll stop ANing now.  Thank you for reading! 

Masterlist

.

.

Edited: 18th May 2020

[dontcallmejoel]

Flash grenade and sucker punch aside, Jesse’s done well for himself.two down immediately, though non-lethally so more like out for the count for a minute, and three more on his tail. Their rifles were useless at close quarters so he kept them close, weaving and jabbing, every now and then tossing a flashbang in the fray and hiding behind one of the goons’ armored backs just in time to miss it. His ears haven’t stopped ringing since the first goon dropped her cover in his poker game, but he was fine with that. He spent a lifetime training to fight under all means of influences, after all.

They wear black kevlar. The spur of Peacekeeper tore through one layer just enough to reveal glinting steel plates under that. No patches to indicate name, nothing to suggest a department or accountability. Jesse’s no fool, he knows an extraction when he sees one. One of the men, the larger of the two remaining, sways once, his mouth clenched in determination, charges, too slow, too clumsy. He goes down with butt of Jesse’s gun. The remaing two, a man and woman, eyes him, the man panting, the woman red-faced in murderous, when all three still standing tense.

Someone’s clapping.

An Omnic steps into the doorway, a hair thinner than the standard model, an aesthetic choice that required expensive custom work and made them look like needle of a man. Their face is custom, too, the head chiseled just below the eye slits to form a proud cheek ridge, the chin sharp and temple sleek.

“McCree.” It states, voice treated with a slight reverb that makes Jesse think of the dying note of a pair of brass cymbals. 

Blood thrums under his skin, hot and alive even where it’s sticky and trickling from his nose and from the graze wound on his bicep, coursing through his seasoned and worn body like new life in the desert. He grins, the thick blood on his lips stretching with protest, not quite dry enough to crack.

Well would you look at that? He’s been found out.

Good.

~~~

He can’t remember if it was his grandmother that originally told him the story, just that she was ancient and had survived famine and war and had only one setting: there was always work to be done. He thinks maybe they shared blood, he has a few clear memories of times she’d lock eyes with him, and while he was a round-faced child and she was wind-browned and papery with age, their brown eyes reflected one another. But then, everyone around had brown eyes. And dark hair. And tan skin.

Even so, she’d put him to work helping the older kids with more complicated chores from the moment he could walk, but she’d also control when they stopped working, be it to eat or sleep, or, on special occasion, to talk the younger ones to sleep. Stories about animals, mostly, about Coyote who stole the sun, or Owl who muttered of things no one wanted to know, or the Lizard with his back to the sun, and Jackrabbit with his many children and tireless foraging.

And he could’ve sworn, while rocking one of his many infant cousins to sleep, that one day, she told him this story, only only told it to him.

Towards the beginning, the creatures of the earth took time to form. Some choose size, like Boar and Desert Cat, other made themselves small and easy to miss, like Mouse and Grasshopper. A few chose the air, and others fought over whether best way to roam the earth was with claws biting into the dirt or hooves to flatten it smooth. Fox, however, chose to walk among them, observing each without deciding himself, so he remained medium sized. Without knowing it, his weaving in and out of the debates of the others made him long and sleek. And when it was almost time for him to solidify his own form, he caught himself admiring Desert Cat, who had chosen definitively the shape of sharp teeth and claws. So Fox tried on sharp teeth, and tried to take up claws, but since he waited so long his teeth were smaller and his claws grew but never sharpened to a point.

A few days after the beginning, Mother walked among the animals with a basket of additional gifts. She gave the Desert Cat Power, Mouse Meekness, Rabbit Speed, and so on until the basket lightened, then emptied. Fox had chosen to wait at the end of the line and observe her give each gift, memorizing each gift, and almost missed that he wasn’t to receive a gift for this choice.

“I’m Sorry, Fox,” Mother said, when she realized her basket was empty.

“It’s okay, Mother,” Fox replied, “Because I know each gift you gave came with a curse. I may never receive a gift, but I’ll never bear a curse, either.”

Mother is great, but she is also terrible, and while she knew she had slighted Fox first, he wounded her with his truthtelling. So Mother reached up to her own head, and plucked a hair, then tied it around Fox’s neck. “For you, I give the gift of cunning.”

And the other animals watched on with jealousy and pity and awe, because Fox had, as he would from then onward, tricked his way into something from seemingly nothing, receiving perhaps the greatest gift of all the creatures. But he also invited the greatest curse, some of the more intelligent animals noted, because though cunning may be a great tool, its curse was curiosity, perhaps the most deadly curse of all.

~~~

Jesse had observed the Omnic for too long, and the woman had recovered and swung her rifle butt down on his knee, the explosive pain driving him to the ground. Hus arms come up, palms out, still grinning, still watching the omnic, even as the woman’s rifle barrel twitches against his temple in her adrenaline shaky grasp.

The omnic continues to walk into the room, but allows their attention to wander around the room, to the damage Jesse’s bar brawl caused. Where it human, perhaps Jesse would be able to follow the path of it’s irises as they traced the turned over tables and chairs, the bullet scars in the wall and the broken glass and splinters. But it’s not, and ll Jesse can see is a flat metal face, scanning the room with a wide sensor. The omnic pauses when it reaches an unconscious goon. For a moment, Jesse thinks they’re gonna nudge the man with their metal-capped foot. It doesn’t, though, just speaks up in their chiming, reverberating voice.

“Reyes always spoke highly of you. Pity he never mentioned how much you liked to make a mess of things.”

Ah. There it is. One of the few names that cut into Jesse’s chest and struck the cold iron splinter where his heart was. Pity, Jesse thinks, as the high and warmth retracts and his focus on the room becomes absolute. The side of his mind that reminds him he’s human is dangerously quiet in this new sharpened perspective. The woman’s breathing to his left hasn’t improved. He must’ve cracked her rib. To his right, the man lifts his rifle, but the motion is stuttered. injured gun arm.

“Means he didn’t like you much,” Jesse replies cheerfully. “He only gave warning labels to people he liked.”

“Is that why you’re here?” The omnic asks, matter of fact.

“You lost me, partner.”

The omnic meets his eyes now, head turned so the point of their chin is accentuated as they looks down their faceplate at Jesse. “Did Reaper send you?”

Jesse’s hands drop, his flesh hand slapping his thigh as he laughs, belly-deep. The woman and the man on either side flinch so hard their barrels nudge his temple. Jesse doesn’t care, though, his laughter echoing off the empty walls while his captors grow ever tenser. “Oh, buddy. Reaper don’t even return my calls. Can’t imagine him sending me orders on some podunk kingpin wannabe.” Laughter dies as soon as it started, eyes sharp on his mark. “Can you?”

~~~

Cunning and curiosity, a chaotic pair in the best of times. Fox goes off on many adventures, observing many great moments, adjusting each in his own spectacular fashion. He creates as many adventures as he disturbs, forming new rules as he shatters old.

After one such adventure, during which he convinces Desert Cat he caused the flood rain by killing a spider, Fox find himself running for his life once his old friend realizes the deception, cackling all the way. Owl follows him by air, until Fox tires and find a hiding place to rest.

“Desert Cat was your friend,” Owl says from where she’s perched on an old saguaro. Her gift from the Mother was Wisdom, and she more than anyone could read Fox’s deceptive patterns.

Fox rests his head on his tail, curled tight against the chill of a wet afternoon, his eyes glowing dimly in the darkness of his enclosure. “He still is. But his gift is Power, and that breeds arrogance. Humility is needed to keep him sane. Besides, what he did to the Rabbits required vengeance.”

Owl is quiet for a long time. “So you used your cunning for the good of others, “ she says, skeptical.

Fox grins. “I always try to.”

Owl is solemn, eyes flat and unseeing, voice weighted with the unseen. “And when you must be cunning, but for the good of no one?”

The curse of Wisdom is Prescience. But just as Owl could understand Fox’s cunning better than anyone, Fox could adopt and adapt to Owl’s forebodence. He licks his lips, and grins again. “Then I will use my gift anyway,” he says, simply, accepting what disaster he may cause as easily as he did the good, “And hope for the best.”

~~~

Omnics can’t narrow their eye slits, especially not if their face is frozen by design for effect. Jesse almost wishes they could, just so he could confirm that he got to the bastard. The Omnic says nothing. Just turns and exits the room, hand clasped behind his back, the epitome of a silent order to kill him if Jesse ever saw one.

Problem one: the man’s gun hand is broken and his wrist ligament overstrained. In his heavy tactical gloves, he can’t feel a fucking trigger much less squeeze one.

Problem two: the magazine on these particular rifles holds fifteen rounds. The woman to his right hasn’t been counting, but Jesse has been.

She pulls the trigger, and gets an empty click. Jesse’s grin never falters, and he dips back, flexing back until he’s out of range of both barrels. Lt. Slow and Injured finally manages to squeeze his trigger and fires, right into the barrel of his only standing teammate’s gun. Shrapnel flashes, and Jesse feels the telltale burn across one cheek, the resulting sound and burst of ricochet enough to throw both aims off. Jesse’s off his knees in an instant, Firing once at the woman, dropping her in a spray of blood from just under her helmet, then the man, who has the time and the audacity to shout NO, nostrils flared, eyes pinpricks, just before his brain matter, too, paints the wall behind him.

~~~

Man barrels into the order of things like, well, Fox, but worse. All of a sudden there’s a new order of Hunter and no one is safe. Not Desert Cat. Not anyone, not even Fox.

In fact, one day, Fox is pacing back and forth, trying his cunning on all sorts of things just to get his paw free from Man’s trap. Off to the side, Desert Cat watches, his tail flicking in both amusement and concern.

“You must be embarrassed,” Desert Cat practically purrs.

Fox stops his pacing, calming his own racing heart enough to feign a calm sitting pose. “Not at all. Man is more cunning, in this instance.”

Desert Cat’s tail stops flicking. His ears draw back. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“No.” Desert Cat is practically spitting. “You’ve been given Cunning! Use it! Use it like you always do!”

Fox knows he’s no catch to Man. He has no meat to him, and his fur is hardly enough to decorate a Man’s child’s regalia, much less a tassel for a full grown Man. But Desert Cat? His pelt would decorate the best of Man’s clothing, his sharp claws and teeth a mark of honor among them. So Fox grins. “Oh I will. But I think I need Boar. Go and find him for me?”

They both know Boar, the Original Boar and none of his dumb children, is three days travel from here. And while Desert Cat could never compete in Fox’s Cunning, he was not stupid. They stare at one another for a long while, then Desert Cat blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice, a long, held blink. “Very well.”

Desert Cat leaves Fox, hesitant at first, then, as his commitment solidifies to this choice, faster as powerful muscles work him into a full gallop away.

Fox watches until he’s far enough, a speck in the distance, then turns his calculating gaze down to the paw trapped.

Wingbeats overhead, soft, a predator’s wing beats. Owl.

To be Cunning, but to the good of no one.

Fox bares his teeth at the trapped paw. “You are Man’s, now.”

He tells his own paw, and in the fashion of the wild, strikes at it with his own needle-sharp teeth.

~~~

Two bullets of Peacekeeper’s six used on the two standing goons back in the old bar.

One to graze the suit of the omnic walking off into his fancy car, said zinger ultimately burying itself in a starburst hole in the gold-plated door of the omnic’s expensive car door. Bullet four flies next, barely waiting for the omnic to turn and look at him, but also burying itself in the gold plate of the car, just in sight of the omnic’s gaze as they turn. Their eyes glow red under the slit of their faceplate once their meet his eyes.

“You can tell Reyes I-”

Jesse shoots to kill, based on where he judged the  main processor to be located. He’s close, the omnic almost flickers out entirely, clutching at the bullet wound to their chest. The reverb in their voice shakes even more. “Tell Reyes-”

Jesse shoots again, then immediately goes to reload, watching the second flicker in and out and in and out, so close to fatal for this being. He loads a single bullet. The omnic lets out a noise like aggravated radio static, almost like clearing a throat, then their eyes glow bright, one last time. “Tell Reyes I never agreed to his terms.”

Jesse freezes. The omnic’s eyes flicker. Once. twice. Then go dark, the chassis falling, vacant, to the ground.

~~~

When their gifts are new, Fox approaches Desert Cat with open admiration. Desert Cat’s pride is enough that he accepts the awe of the creature blessed with Mother’s personal gift.

Power’s curse is Arrogance, but among the gift she gave them, Mother did not mention one thing: they were all more complicated than the Gift, more complicated than their Gift’s Curse, because they all, ultimately, existed with choices before the Gift, and would continue to exist after.

So it wasn’t out of Power, or Arrogance, that Desert Cat lay on his back, belly to the stars, mimicking the pose his friend Fox used to a tee, that he says, “I’m not dumb, Fox. You were Gifted with Cunning, but none of us were Cursed with gullibility.”

Fox snuffles a bit, trying to lose himself in the dichotomy of Moonlight on his belly fur and the cool earth on his thicker back fur. But Desert Cat’s word was important to him, so he draws himself together and replies, “Of course not, great Desert Cat.”

Desert Cat growls to hide his preening at such a statement. “We know your nature, then, fiend. Who could trust you, ever?”

Fox stops his snuffling, listening to Desert Cat intently before side-eying him. Eyes meet, both their bellies to the full moon.

Fox says, “I admire your honesty. So accept this: I will use my cunning honestly. Fear only my cunning if you are dishonest. I can make that promise.”

Desert Cat rolls off his back, approaching, eye contact never wavering. “Promise it.”

Fox remains on his belly, but doesn’t blink once at the eye contact.

“I promise.

~~~

Jesse lights a cigarillo. Blood has caked and scabbed by this point, his lips cracking under the stretch, his arm achey and painful t flex where the scab dried.

His lead might’ve been a plant. Might’ve been one of Reaper’s plants, an unofficial invite for Jesse to wipe out one of Reaper’s problems.

Jesse lifts the cigarillo to his lips, and recounts the crimes in the area that were related to the dead omnic’s particular ring.

Jesse can’t bring himself to care.

The bourbon in his flask helps.

All just another day in the life of the Bounty Hunter, Jesse McCree.

[joshuajmadrid]

Faux Fur Fabric

This imitation fur has had immense popularity since its inception within the 1920s, what with animal activists raising cudgels against the cruelty and danger of using real fur and therefore the many public awareness campaigns administered by animal lovers (like Anti-Fur Trade Movement) pointing to pretend fur as a far better option and lots of more people choosing this as a budget-friendly option.

So on to the facts on Faux Fur that I promised ( warning – they're not earth-shattering, but may cause you to think)

Faux fur is formed of synthetic fibers. there's nothing natural about it – not the yarn, the fiber or the material . Synthetic fibers are made to seem exactly just like the real fur. it's Acrylic or Modacrylic on polyester base – Completely artificial and man-made.

Sometimes real fur and faux fur can cost an equivalent . Fur Farms in developing nations make this possible. But people object to Fur for moral reasons. brooding about the foxes, rabbits, minks, raccoons, dogs that are killed deliberately for creating that specific hat or coat should deter you, not the value . there'll be many such animals killed in fur farms if wearing fur isn't frowned upon. Wearing fur is encouraging and abetting this mass slaughter; it's not the status symbol it once was, but shame on your conscience.

Even PETA website acknowledges that it's difficult to differentiate fur from fake fur. But there are ways. I examine this on the PETA website here. watching the rear of the fur may be a thanks to tell whether you've got fur or fake fur – see if the fluff is attached to skin or a knit fabric/webbing. If it's attached to fabric it's fake fur. See the image above. you'll also use a cloth burn test – if the fiber when burnt smells synthetic it's fake. If it smells like burning hair it's fur. you are doing not even need to buy fur in ignorance.

You get Faux Fur yarn for knitting and therefore the fabric this yarn makes is opulent and delightful.  Faux fur fabric

Sewing with faux fur

Things made from fluffy faux fur is taken into account very stylish. it's also very warm so fake fur is employed an excellent deal for creating garments fitted to weather . Even otherwise it's used as embellishments like using faux fur round the collar or cuffs.

Sewing faux fur isn't an enormous deal – you'll sew it up together with your regular home home appliance . No edges to end , no fraying. the sole problem is its thickness, which is manageable. But it's the cutting that's a drag .

Keep a vacuum at hand – the fur fuzz goes to be everywhere. Another idea is to stay newspaper underneath as you narrow – you'll throw the paper away after everything is completed .

You cannot cut quite one layer of most fake fur at a time. Cutting too many layers are going to be very taxing for your scissors due to the thickness. Choose projects with not too many seams – faux fur is bulky . So limit tucks,darts buttonholes, zippers, gathers, ruffles etc.

You need to seem at the nap of the fur as you narrow . If one sleeve has fur facing down the opposite should even be cut an equivalent way. you'll want to mark on the rear of the material for clarity.

You cannot mark on the fur side. you'll mark on the rear of the faux fur then cut. As you cut, cut only through the backing/webbing/knit fabric. don't cut the fur. Also, make sure that the fur isn't within the way – you'll accidentally stop the fur ends – no do. Keep the fur to the within as you narrow . you'll avoid this by making small snips and being careful all the way, instead of taking long cuts and regretting later.  Faux fur fabric suppliers

To keep many layers of cloth you'll usually use pins – but with thick fake fur this might end in the material pieces distorting – you'll use paper clips instead. Before you sew, keep the pile down together with your fingers – make sure that you're not stitching over the fur unnecessarily; this is often where clips come of use. Use generously. Keep the fur out of the way of sewing where necessary – but don't be too zealous that you simply are distorting the way the pile lays. If the pile is just too long, trim them to form way for your stitching.

How to look after fake fur

The main issues around fake fur is that the matting of the pile, and lack of luster and shrinkage and loss of volume. These are all consequent to wrong washing. it's better to not give the fake fur for cleaning because the solvents used may cause discoloration and distortion of the pile.

The best option is to use gentle hand washing and low to no heat drying, that too if the item gets too dirty. Otherwise it's better to go away it alone. Do let the material sit in water for long – choose the shortest wash cycle possible in your machine.

Always Remember that faux fur is plastic and an excessive amount of heat can damage the fibers. So tumble drying is out of question. If there's heat the fur will start to shrivel. you'll use a coffee heat hand blower to dry the item. Drying during a very low or no heat setting can fluff the pile which has matted. Use a mild hair brush to brush the pile while still damp can bring the pile to behave. This prevents the tufting of fibers because it dries. Faux fur fabric manufacturers

[mydeerhart]

Astraeus Playlist

Song titles, links, and a snip of lyrics below Also see: 

Hades [X] Alex [X] MC [X]  Astraeus [X]

Amanda Lee- Euterpe

“Wildflower Blossoming, what do you see when you look down on me?”

Amanda Lee- Courage

“I will call infinitely, screaming until they hear me”

Beth Crowley- Battle Cry

“So hear my battle cry, I’m out for blood to claim what’s mine!”

Beth Crowley- Warrior

“Teach me how to fight, I’ll show you how to win, you’re my mortal flaw, and I’m your fatal sin.”

Beth Crowley- Porcelain Heart

“I handed you my porcelain heart, Breakable but not yet broken”

Beth Crowley- The Dark

“ In my heart/You're a risk I'm willing to take/But my head/It's telling me there's too much at stake ”

Beth Crowley- Come Alive

“ You are a blinding light/A darkness courses through my veins/And somehow you chose me/ I refuse to let you down”

Beth Crowley- Reasons

If you stay we can stand at the edge of forever How it kills me to see you get hurt You have no idea how much you're worth I Would pay anything for the courage to say that I love you

  Paramore- Adore

If I let you love me, Be the one adored, Would you go all the way? Be the one I'm looking for?

  Maroon 5- She Will be Loved

It's not always rainbows and butterflies It's compromise that moves us along, yeah My heart is full and my door's always open You come anytime you want, yeah. I don't mind spending every day Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile And she will be loved 

  Timbelle- Apollo (replace Apollo with alex?)

But when the walls are caving in The world keeps turning We got the love We got the loveNo, I will never let you go All the words won’t make me fold It is never easy I follow you, Apollo

Taylor Swift- Eyes Open

So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard Every lesson forms a new scar They never thought you'd make it this far But turn around (turn around), oh they've surrounded you It's a showdown (showdown) and nobody comes to save you now But you've got something they don't Yeah you've got something they don't You've just gotta keep your eyes open 

  Taylor Swift- Safe and Sound

I remember tears streaming down your face When I said, "I'll never let you go." When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone," But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight 

  Shawn Mendes- Treat You Better

I know I can treat you better than he can And any girl like you deserves a gentleman Tell me why are we wasting time On all your wasted crying When you should be with me instead I know I can treat you better Better than he can 

  Imagine Dragons- Warriors

Here we are, don't turn away now, We are the warriors that built this town. Here we are, don't turn away now, We are the warriors that built this town From dust.Will come When you'll have to rise Above the best and prove yourself, Your spirit never dies!Farewell, I've gone to take my throne above, But don't weep for me 'Cause this will be The labor of my love 

  Imagine Dragons- I Bet My Life

Don't tell me that I'm wrong I've walked that road before And left you on your own And please believe them when they say That it's left for yesterday And the records that I've played Please forgive me for all I've done 

  Fall Out Boy- Young Volcanoes

Tonight The foxes hunt the hounds It's all over now Before it has begun And we've already won Fall Out Boy- Just One Yesterday

If heaven's grief brings hell's rain Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday For just one yesterday Oh, I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way Still I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday For just one yesterday 

  Fall Out Boy- Centuries 

And you're a cherry blossom You're about to bloom You look so pretty, but you're gone so soon Some legends are told Some turn to dust or to gold But you will remember me Remember me for centuries And just one mistake Is all it will take We'll go down in history Remember me for centuries 

  Christina Perri- Burning Gold

I've had enough I'm standing up I need, I need a change I've had enough of chasing luck I need, I need a change I'm setting fire to the life that I know Let's start a fire everywhere that we go We're starting fires, we're starting fires 'Til our lives are burning gold

  Christina Perri- I Believe

'Cause I have been where you are before And I have felt the pain of losing who you are And I have died so many times, but I am still alive

  Christina Perri- Arms

I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start You put your arms around me And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go You put your arms around me and I'm home How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around? I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown

  NateWTB- Kyouran Hey Kids 

“The frenzied kids that break The masks we wear on our face

Destruction, lies and hate Is what we face today The fumes intoxicate The taste It stimulates/I need that flavor, flavor, flavor”

Astraeus to Hades

100 Monkeys- Keep Awake

I will kill you in your sleep So you better keep your left eye open And your right toe twitchin Cause I’m in the kitchen With a knife that’s itchin For your red blood

MC to Hades (Astraeus route)

Beth Crowley- My Version of You

Who will I become If I give you up So even if it’s not true I want another moment With my version of you

  Beth Crowley- Nothing Left

“Forever’s what I promised you/ but forever’s meant for liars and fools”

Beth Crowley- Gone

But I have made a vow I won't live the life you made me choose We're players in a game that I don't intend to lose

  Beth Crowley- Here We Go Again

I reach out to touch the flame Cuz I refuse to think it burns Retreat and lick my wounds But of course I never learn

  Beth Crowley-My Forgiveness

So you can gnash your teeth and stomp your feet Say that I'll have hell to pay but this tapestry of hate you've woven has begun to fray because in the end words are only words yet you still hide behind them no matter who you hurt so forgive me if I do not follow suit then again who says my forgiveness lies with you Beth Crowley- Red

Cut me open and I still bleed red Do your best to get inside my head Cuz I'm gonna make you remember my name And I'll be the last one you ever betray Just wait You'll be seeing red

Paramore- Ignorance

The same tricks that, that once fooled me They won't get you anywhere I'm not the same kid from your memory Well, now I can fend for myself

  Paramore- Playing God

It's just my humble opinion But it's one that I believe in You don't deserve a point of view If the only thing you see is you

  Paramore- Feeling Sorry

 I feel no sympathy. You live inside a cave You barely get by, the rest of us are trying There's no need to apologize I've got no time for feeling sorry.

  Miia- Dynasty

And all I gave you is gold Tumbled like it was stone Thought we built a dynasty that heaven couldn't shake Thought we built a dynasty like nothing ever made Thought we built a dynasty forever couldn't break up 

  Ky0Umi- Glassy Sky

Sometimes I wonder what's beyond I tried many times to make it up to you Can somebody tell me what to do? Thought we're meant to be There's no going back Time has already come Sun is gone and no more shadows Can't give up I know and this life goes on I'll be strong I'll be strong 'til I see the end Glassy sky above As long as I survive You will be part of me Glassy sky the cold The broken pieces of me Glassy sky above Covers over me, over me 

  Taylor Swift- Bad Blood

Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted Did you have to ruin what was shiny? Now it's all rusted Did you have to hit me where I'm weak? Baby, I couldn't breathe And rub it in so deep Salt in the wound like you're laughing right at meOh, it's so sad to Think about the good times You and I 

  Taylor Swift- Story of Us

I used to think one day we'd tell the story of us How we met and the sparks flew instantly People would say, "they're the lucky ones"I used to know my place was a spot next to you Now I'm searching the room for an empty seat 'Cause lately I don't even know what page you're on 

  Avril Lavigne- My Happy Ending

You were everything, everything that I wanted (that I wanted) We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it (we lost it) And all of the memories, so close to me, just fade away All this time you were pretending So much for my happy ending 

  Avril Lavigne- Let Me Go

Love that once hung on the wall Used to mean something, but now it means nothing The echoes are gone in the hall But I still remember, the pain of DecemberOh, there isn't one thing left you could say I'm sorry it's too lateI'm breaking free from these memories Gotta let it go, just let it go I've said goodbye Set it all on fire Gotta let it go, just let it go

Pink- Blow Me (One last kiss)

I will do what I please, anything that I want I will breathe, I will breathe, I won't worry at all You will pay for your sins, you'll be sorry my dear All the lies, all the why's, will all be crystal clear I think I've finally had enough, I think I maybe think too much I think this might be it for us (blow me one last kiss) You think I'm just too serious, I think you're full of shit My head is spinning so (blow me one last kiss)

Fall Out Boy- Phoenix

Put on your war paintYou are a brick tied to me that’s dragging me down Strike a match and I’ll burn you to the ground We are the jack-o-lanterns in July Setting fire to the sky Here, here comes this rising tide so come on 

  Fall Out Boy- Miss Missing You

Baby, you were my picket fence I miss missing you now and then Chlorine kissed summer skin I miss missing you now and then Sometimes before it gets better The darkness gets bigger The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger Oh, we’re fading fast I miss missing you now and then

  Fall Out Boy- Irresistible

Count me in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile I just follow your scent You can't just follow my smile All of your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine Cutting me to the bone Nothing left to leave behind You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon I didn't come for a fight but I will fight till the end This might be your battle, might not turn out okay 

  Fall Out Boy- Thnks Fr Th Mmrs

One night and one more time Thanks for the memories even though they weren't so great He tastes like you, only sweeter One night, yeah, and one more time Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories See, he tastes like you, only sweeter, oh 

  Adele- Rolling the the Deep

The scars of your love remind me of us They keep me thinking that we almost had it all The scars of your love, they leave me breathless I can't help feeling We could have had it all Rolling in the deep You had my heart inside of your hand And you played it, to the beat

  Adele- Water Under the Bridge

If you're not the one for me Then I'll come back and bring you to your knees If you're not the one for me Why do I hate the idea of being free? And if I'm not the one for you You've gotta stop holding me the way you do Oh when you found that the one for you Why have we been through what we have been through 

  Adele- Set Fire to the Rain

But there's a side to you That I never knew, never knew All the things you'd say They were never true, never true And the games you play You would always win, always win 

[van-dyne]

I'm thinking of skipping some seasons of spn, are there any seasons that would be good to skip(I don't want to skip them I just don't have the time to watch them)

S1-5 is the ‘classic’ supernatural, so don’t skip any of them. The first 5 seasons tell a coherent story, and it’s an Epic one. They set the tone of the show, develop your attachment to the characters, makes you fall in love with them and their relationship with one another. It’s the Winchesters origin story, and imo you’d always feel something is missing, something you can’t quite grasp if you hadn’t been there with them from the start. 

With that covered, let’s go into the later seasons, I assume you want to catch up with the current season asap? I wouldn’t recommend to skip a whole season because in order to understand the characters’ action (primarily Sam and Dean) you have to know what they’ve been through, and though the later seasons are more self contained, each has its own arc, it is still a coherent journey of the brothers as a whole. And they have quality episodes each season you dont want to miss.

Here’s the episode list from s 6-12, I highlighted the important episodes in order to understand the story for it to progress, also point out those fun and quality episodes you may not want to miss ;) (god it’s really long list) (sorry to those who’re on mobile) 

Season 6 (there’s something wrong with Sam (!), monsters, demons and angels all want to open the backdoor to purgatory (imo it’s a mess)1. Exile on Main Street2. Two and a Half Men 3. The Third Man 4. Weekend at Bobby’s* (Love letter to Bobby)5. Live Free or Twi-hard* (Dean becomes a vampire, temporarily) 6. You Can’t Handle the Truth 7. Family Matters 8. All Dogs Go to Heaven 9. Clap Your Hands If You Believe*  (This is a fun one, X-file style)10. Caged Heat 11. Appointment in Samarra 12. Like a Virgin 13. Unforgiven 14. Mannequin 3: The Reckoning 15. The French Mistake* (The one that will go down in television history) 16. And Then There Were None 17. My Heart Will Go On* (The one where they un-sink the Titanic)18. Frontierland* (The one where they time travel to the Western )19. Mommy Dearest 20. The Man Who Would Be King 21. Let It Bleed 22. The Man Who Knew Too Much

Season 7 (this season arc is basically Leviathan from purgatory is unleashed on earth and they can impose people, cause the winchesters a few, but they manage to off the monster in the end. The leviathan story is not that engaging but they have fun episodes. The more intriguing and important part in terms of characters arc is about Sam’s hallucination)  1. Meet the New Boss 2. Hello Cruel World 3. The Girl Next Door (Dean did something /questionable/)4. Defending Your Life 5. Shut Up, Dr. Phil* (The one with the Buffy reunion)6. Slash Fiction* (Leviathans!Winchesters, forcing the real winchesters on the run)7. The Mentalists (The bros resolve their conflict)8. Time for a Wedding! 9. How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters 10. Death’s Door 11. Adventures in Babysitting 12. Time After Time* (Dean travels back in time to the 40s) 13. The Slice Girls (Dean doesn’t want you to know about this one)14. Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie* (The one with the clowns, it’s fun)15. Repo Man 16. Out with the Old* (It’s a fun one, also Sam’s hallucination is getting worse)17. The Born-Again Identity 18. Party on, Garth (The one they drunk kill Ghost)19. Of Grave Importance 20. The Girl With the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo* (The one introduces Charlie) 21. Reading is Fundamental (The one introduces Kevin)22. There Will Be Blood 23. Survival of the Fittest (The one where they finally off the big Dick)

Season 8 (Dean’s back from purgatory and Sam quit hunting for a year, bros are back together, conflict ensured, they find a way to shut the gates of Hell in the second half of the season) 1. We Need to Talk About Kevin 2. What’s Up, Tiger Mommy? 3. Heartache 4. Bitten 5. Blood Brother (Benny the vampire friend of Dean) 6. Southern Comfort (The bros are lashing out on each other)7. A Little Slice of Kevin 8. Hunteri Heroici (The one with the looney tones, so fun)9. Citizen Fang (More Benny)10. Torn and Frayed 11. LARP and the Real Girl (The one where Dean dresses up as Medieval knight, it’s good fun)12. As Time Goes By (Grandpa Henry Winchester! Introducing Men of letters)13. Everybody Hates Hitler (The one introduces the Bunker) 14. Trial and Error 15. Man’s Best Friend with Benefits 16. Remember the Titans (The one with all the greek gods, it’s solid episode)17. Goodbye Stranger 18. Freaks and Geeks 19. Taxi Driver 20. Pac-Man Fever 21. The Great Escapist 22. Clip Show 23. Sacrifice

Season 9  (Dean is burden with guilt)1. I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here 2. Devil May Care 3. I’m No Angel 4. Slumber Party 5. Dog Dean Afternoon (The one Dean becomes a dog, temporarily)  6. Heaven Can’t Wait 7. Bad Boys* (get to know a slice of Dean’s childhood)8. Rock and a Hard Place 9. Holy Terror 10. Road Trip 11. First Born 12. Sharp Teeth 13. The Purge* (Undercover as yoga instructor and food lady, it’s fun)14. Captives (The winchesters have really nice coats in this one just sayin) 15. #thinman 16. Blade Runners 17. Mother’s Little Helper 18. Meta Fiction (it’s weird one I don’t know)19. Alex Annie Alexis Ann 20. Bloodlines 21. King of the Damned 22. Stairway to Heaven 23. Do You Believe in Miracles

Season 10 (Sam is gonna save his Dean no matter the cost) 1. Black 2. Reichenbach 3. Soul Survivor 4. Paper Moon* (Something you need, as a therapy, after the first three episode)5. Fan Fiction* (The one with the Supernatural Meta Musical) 6. Ask Jeeves* (Cluedo style, FUN)7. Girls, Girls, Girls 8. Hibbing 911 9. The Things We Left Behind* (Re-introduces Claire novak) 10. The Hunter Games 11. There’s No Place Like Home* (Charlie and her evil twins) 12. About a Boy* (De-aged Dean, yes) 13. Halt & Catch Fire 14. The Executioner’s Song !! (holy shit this episode)15. The Things They Carried 16. Paint it Black17. Inside Man 18. Book of the Damned 19. The Werther Project 20. Angel Heart 21. Dark Dynasty 22. The Prisoner 23. Brother’s Keeper

Season 11 (Darkness on earth, but at least the brothers are on the same page) 1. Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire 2. Form and Void 3. The Bad Seed 4. Baby ** !! ( A love letter to Baby)5. Thin Lizzie (There’s that kid from Stranger Things)6. Our Little World 7. Plush 8. Just My Imagination* !! (the one with the imaginary friend, very fun and unique)9. O Brother Where Art Thou? 10. The Devil in the Details 11. Into the Mystic 12. Don’t You Forget About Me 13. Love Hurts* (epic Winchesters wardrobe) 14. The Vessel* (Dean travels back in time! again)15. Beyond the Mat* (Happy fanboy Winchesters)16. Safe House* (Bobby and Rufus old case)17. Red Meat* !! (Epic Monster of the week episode)18. Hell’s Angel 19. The Chitters 20. Don’t Call Me Shurley !!21. All in the Family (Meh but you kinda maybe need to watch it)22. We Happy Few (UGH but you kinda maybe need to watch it)23. Alpha and Omega

Season 12 (British Men of Letters wants to take control of the American hunters, also Mama Winchester is back, also a hot mess) 1. Keep Calm and Carry On 2. Mamma Mia 3. The Foundry 4. American Nightmare* (the theme is dark af but it’s a very good episode) 5. The One You’ve Been Waiting For (Dean kills Hitler)6. Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox* (introduces the hunter network, solid episode)7. Rock Never Dies 8. Lotus 9. First Blood 10. Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets 11. Regarding Dean** (Jensen A+ acting)12. Stuck in the Middle (With You) * (the way this episode is directed is worth watching)13. Family Feud 14. The Raid 15. Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell 16. Ladies Drink Free 17. The British Invasion 18. The Memory Remains 19. The Future 20. Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes* (A solid monster of the week episode with the Hunter Twins) 21. There’s Something About Mary 22. Who We Are !! (this episode imo saves the whole season)23. All Along the Watchtower ! (now you’re excited for what comes next)

[thecrazydragonlady]

“Of Runways and Darkness” - Chapter 7

Author’s Note: Ignoring the fact I haven’t updated in forever and a day, have an update. Work’s just been kicking my butt all over the place and it’s not getting any easier in the next forever and a day. Enjoy!

Chapter 7

“Chat! Left!”

The black clad superhero ducked left as a spinning green shield flew past him to smack sharply into a blast of… of, well, letters. It scattered. The letters scrambled and then rounded back, flying to the woman who controlled them, redecorating her suit as if they’d never left. She gritted her teeth. A soft growl escaped her lips again and she raised a hand, the letters swirling up her body before shooting out of her once more as she angrily thrusted it forward. Chat dodged. Emerald raised his shield again, grunting at the impact.

Ladybug peeked her head up around from behind a vehicle. The akuma, Miss Translate as she’d introduced herself earlier in the fight, was sufficiently distracted by the boys and was busy firing blast after blast at them. She ducked back down, staring at Lady Fox next to her. Like she had in several fights since the Winter Masquerade, Fox was using her ability to “see” the cursed item. Her eyes glowed orange and in her mind, she saw everything in clearness. Ladybug was almost see through next to her but she was colored red, Emerald was green, Chat was black, and the akuma was white.

Except for a little box on her hip which flamed purple in color.

When the vision ended, Fox looked at her partner with determination.

“She’s got some kind of box device on her hip right now. I think it’s a pager to be honest.”

Chat landed near them. “A pager,” he groaned, jumping back to his feet, “aren’t those like super out of date?”

“Guess no one told her,” Emerald grunted, deflecting yet another blast.

“Whatever the reason, it’s there and we should probably do some snatching and smashing before my time runs out,” Fox called back, clearing the car in seconds. Ladybug nodded, “Good job Lady Fox. Keep her distracted you three.” She nodded in return before running off to join the fray, wielding her weapon, the flute, like a staff. The three of them braced themselves and went on the offensive, Emerald tossing his shield so that Miss Translate had to block with her hands to keep it from smacking into her face. She grunted as two staffs suddenly made contact with her in mid-air, pushing her back some distance; glaring, she spotted Chat Noir and Lady Fox high fiving with cocky smirks on their faces. Her eyes traveled. Suddenly, she spotted the heroine she wanted. Ladybug threw her arm up in the air, releasing her yo-yo as she shouted, “Lucky Charm!” It was very easy to see the brilliant red magic coming off the spinning devices and then as they swirled and solidified into some kind of object. The akuma didn’t get to see it as she was suddenly hit again by a staff.

“Hey there! This isn’t time for a cat nap.”  Chat Noir pushed down on his staff  but grunted when she pushed back, sending him flying once more on the paved roads of Paris. The fox put her flute to her lips. Before she could play though, a purple mask appeared over the villain's white one, and she gritted her teeth and aiming at the superhero, she shot another blast.

Fox didn’t have time to respond.

She fell over backwards and gasped as the beam came closer. Raising her arms, she closed her eyes and got ready for the pain or whatever that was bound to come.

It didn’t though.

A shadow crossed her vision. Fox opened them to find Emerald standing over her, deflecting blast after blast. He looked back over his shoulder, smiling at her, before grunting, “I got you.”

“Thanks,” she breathed.

“Anytime.” He grunted again but threw his arm out, grabbing her hand and ducking behind a nearby car while they recouped. She looked down at her charm. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly from all the energy they’d used and her face fell when she realized she was down to three minutes. “You need to get out of here,” he ordered. She shook her head.

“I’m not leaving you three.” Emerald grabbed her shoulder gently.

“Look Fox. Trixx can’t hold on much longer. You were amazing but please, your identity is too important to risk. Get going. We’ll be fine until you get back.” She hesitated but shook her head.

“I’ll go when it’s down to one.”

“Fox…!”

“One Emerald.” He scowled but knew that there was no further point in arguing as his girlfriend was rather stubborn and was going to have her way one way or the other. She stood back up. “Come on. We’ve left Chat and Ladybug alone for too long.” Before he could say anything else, she took off back around the vehicle, raising her flute to knock back some stray letters. Emerald only shook his head and followed after.

Ladybug, meanwhile, looked desperately around the area. Three things lit up with her lucky vision: the platter she’d created, Chat Noir, and a lamp post. The instant her eyes fell on the lamp post, she knew what had to happen, the plan appearing in an instant like a miracle. She readied herself. “Chat Noir! The lamp post!”

Chat’s ears twitched. He looked back over his shoulder to see his lady standing from her protected spot, running towards him. He quickly turned and ran towards the object in question, off to his right, shouting for his own ability.

However, he never makes his objective.

Miss Translate sees Ladybug approaching and aims for her. The spotted heroine deflects the blast with the tray but instead of going skyward, it goes downward, destroying the ground under her feet. Ladybug gasps as she pitches forward. The platter skitters across the ground and out of reach. Chat’s heart races as he watches his girlfriend groan from the ground, a small gash on her forehead bleeding, and as the akuma gets ready to fire again.

Fox and Emerald are too far away.

He can make it though.

Without hesitating, Chat rushes back to her aid. The akuma fires the blast. He jumps. In a bizarre twist of fate, the blast hits his hand, shooting back at its sender, causing her to screech as the two magics, Cataclysm and her own, mix within her body. Miss Translate falls. So does Chat. Ladybug gasps and scrambles to her feet. Running over, she turns Chat over to check him for any injuries. His face and body appear fine but he groans anyway, smiling gently up at her. The akuma shakes her head. A purple mask appears on her face but she stops. Confusion is etched on her expression.

Miss Translate retreated, leaving the four superheroes to watch as she goes.

“Oh man,” Emerald complains, “She got away but Chat dude, are you alright?”

The three of them eyed him as he shook his head, assessing himself for damage. Everything felt like it was in its place. First his feet. His legs. Torso alright. Shoulders, arms, hands, neck, and his head, although a bit fuzzy, was alright. He smiled up at Ladybug as he finally confirmed that everything was good but the longer he talked, the more he realized that something wasn't okay. He slowly stopped. His Lady helped him sit up. She bit her lip.

“Chat, can you still run?” He nodded, wondering what was wrong but he didn't get an answer to his thought as she stood and helped him up. Turning to the others, she swiftly ordered, “Go rest for a bit. Meet at my room in an hour. I'll tell my parents you're coming.” She grabbed Chat’s hand and looked at his ring. It beeped once. She sighed. “You’re going to have to go through my balcony to get in my room but I’ll tell my parents you came up the back stairs or something.” His ears laid flat. He started to ask something but Ladybug but she put a finger over his mouth and silenced him which caused his ears to go even flatter if that was possible but he froze when he saw the look in her eyes. She was scared. As the leader, she often kept such emotions hidden from her team, from Paris, from the world. Now they were raw and glistening in her eyes brightly. “Trust me Chat, we’ll talk about later but for right now, I really really really need you to trust me and not speak.” He nodded, sadness in his own eyes. She smiled sadly but looked a little relieved. “Good now, let’s go. We’ll see you in an hour Emerald, Fox.” The superheroes nodded, taking off in different directions. Ladybug led him up and over the rooftops of Paris until they were back at her balcony. As she flipped down onto it, she transformed back. Tikki flew up concerned.

“Oh Chat,” she worried. He leaned his head and looked down at his ring. There were three pads left. Now was as good a time as any to detransform.

He opened his mouth.

His ears twitched when he finally heard himself speak which is when he realized why Marinette was so concerned.

“Plague small fin!”

Cripes. They were in trouble.

**** Hawkmoth, despite all sounds and appearances, is not all powerful, nor is he as well protected as he should be. He may not be at the main battle, tucked away safely in his hideaway, but there is one form of danger that can be used to harm him.

Where there is a puppet, there must be a puppeteer.

Where there is a puppet, there must be strings to tie it to said puppeteer.

Hawkmoth always ran a risk when he created a new akuma. Infusing the little akumas with darkness also meant that he had to infuse enough of his own conscience into them to control the people he chose. He was the puppeteer. He was the master. However, the magic flowed two ways. In order for the bond to be complete, he had to take on a bit of his tool’s personality. It was only fair to keep balance.

When Chat Noir’s cataclysm hit his akuma, it mixed with her own magic, creating a negative reaction in her. She screamed for she truly was in pain. However, it needed an outlet.

An outlet it had.

In the form of invisible, magical puppet strings.

The magic shot back along the connection. Hawkmoth heard himself scream the word “NO” but everything quickly went black.

When he woke several minutes later, his head was cloudy and he wasn’t sure what had happen. He spoke to Miss Translate but he clearly saw the confusion on her face and she took off without saying a word to him. A soft growl left his throat. The battle was over so he called for the transformation to end. It didn’t. Looking down, he saw himself still in his signature purple butterfly suit. The mask was still on. He called again. Still the same.

His brooch sounded once. Being the intelligent villain he was, he realized he had to wait until Nooroo finally tired and released the transformation himself.

However, he had to hear….

“Stark blings troll!”

Cripes. He was in trouble.

****

First | Previous | Next | Last