#due to the transition from part one to part two just never turning out well enough for me? so i'm really hoping

[causticsunshine]

hellooo for anyone interested in reading this year's momrry—if you're able to vote via twitter, please let me know if you have a chapter formatting preference here!

seeing as how i've paced things, i'll be able to break the fic up either way easily! it just depends on whether you guys would like fewer chapters that are quite long, or a few more chapters that are a little bit shorter that the former (but honestly not by much lol).

any feedback is greatly appreciated <3

[maxwell-grant]

"porous and easy-to-transplant like Spidey's villains" is it just me does Marvel have more of these guys than DC? Like we can just have random buff list villains go after a a variety of different characters?

Oh yes, Marvel absolutely has the advantage when it comes to rogues gallery transplants, it's not even a contest. That's in large part because Marvel existed as a shared universe from the get-go: DC didn't quite jump on that wagon for a while. For most of the Silver Age, there was little to no cross-pollination between Superman and Batman, the existence of the Justice League not really mattering in their titles, where as Marvel was crossover town from day one. They each offer different kinds of narrative real state for their villains to exist in.

The DCU's defining figures, Superman and Batman, live in opposite cities with opposite tones and opposite casts and everybody else has to occupy the space between their two extremes, and most of the other bigger heroes have their own cities: your Star Cities and Central Cities and Hub Cities and Bludhavens and whatnot. Thus most of their villains and villain casts are centralized, and sometimes they even have formal agreements about this kind of stuff. There's almost like a Venture Bros-esque union thing going on sometimes in the DCU where most of their popular villains and heroes are fairly exclusive to one another, with characters like Killer Frost, Gentleman Ghost and Solomon Grundy who transcend this being mostly such due to their heroes being more absorbed and integrated into ensembles than their own adventures.

The major exceptions for these tend to be villains specifically made or set to menace the entire universe, like Superboy Prime or Perpetua or, Amanda Waller this month I guess, and Event Villains are kind of their own thing (and mostly not very good). DC doesn't have a Doctor Doom, in the sense of a big great iconic villain for the whole universe and specific heroes in it who also can and will fight anyone and it will pretty much always be great no matter who he's fighting. They try to make cosmic baddies like Brainiac into those kinds of figures and it never works as well, it always just makes them too generic, there's no spark to the ensuing dynamic. Vandal Savage is probably the closest to one that works and, love the guy, but he's sporadically great and simply not up to the standard this requires.

Marvel, in turn, has been in the business of regularly loaning out bad guys, maybe ever since Sandman joined up the Frightful Four? He wasn't just a one-off thing like that time Daredevil and Doctor Doom swapped bodies and fought, no he was regularly showing up as a villain in F4, in a new costume even. Marvel already started with all of their major defining characters living in the same sandbox, everybody is within a few blocks away from each other most of the time, and so everybody is everybody's problem most of the time, it's the bastardverse and they are all crammed together, and it's not terribly surprising why they fight all the goddamn time. All the major Marvel villains are shooting to rule the same city/planet and destroy more or less the same people and therefore they kinda have to be on a first-name basis with each other, and all the middle-leaguer/second-stringer baddies are getting beaten up by the same people in the same city. Reverse-Flash and Joker going after anyone other than their respective arch-enemies feels fake and perfunctory, but guys like Ultron and Norman Osborn, who also have specific arch-enemies, can transit between individual problems for different heroes and larger-scale problems for everybody just fine. A DC hero will rarely be in Lex Luthor's line of sight unless they are specifically doing something that will piss him off, where as if you are a Marvel hero, it's a fact that sometimes you'll just randomly orbit Wilson Fisk's business and thus you gotta dodge gunfire for it that day.

This especially applies for the smaller-scale villains, not too strongly attached to the hero they may have started out with to the point they become ensemble villains, the ones that easily and eventually become someone else's problem. Your Mr. Hydes and Absorbing Men and Arcades and High Evolutionaries and whatnot, Spider-Man is stuffed with these. Sometimes these characters will click so well with specific heroes they'll achieve wholly different kinds of stardom or characterization (Kingpin in Miller's Daredevil, Brain Drain and Kraven in Squirrel Girl, etc), and sometimes they'll graduate into the position of supporting character or even main character. The peak example of this is Taskmaster, because while the likes of Loki and Venom can claim greater stardom, they did so by becoming anti-heroes and are generally still attached at hip to their heroes of origin, where as Taskmaster is a midcard villain to the bone and it's extremely easy to forget he was an Avengers villain at first, he is just fully A Guy in his own right who will go anywhere and menace anyone for the right price (except Moon Knight, because he is too scary), he'll scale up and down and be everyone's problem until he's not being paid to do so and then it's cool. DC doesn't really have an equivalent to him (they kinda try with Deathstroke but, pfft, please, that guy is a diehard obsessive Teen Titans villain and that's not even the more embarassing thing about him). They have countless midcarders just picking dust within their respective rogues galleries that could easily be migrated elsewhere.

But on the other hand, Marvel doesn't quite have what you'd call a Legion of Doom/Injustice League, in the sense of being able to pair all of it's biggest villains from the biggest corners of the world together in a team-up and have it work. There's been attempts over the years to make things like the Masters of Evil and the Cabal land as such and they never really stuck, the closest you get to an iconic Big Villain Team is the likes of the Sinister Six and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, groups tailored to menace specific heroes or hero teams, or things like The Black Order and the Dark Avengers, ultimately extensions of bigger villains (the Thunderbolts are their own thing). Maybe it's because Marvel doesn't really have a major concentrated dominant heroic force on the level of the Justice League that would demand all their villains to put everything aside to try and stop it (although DC can't really justify the Legion of Doom/Injustice League as an ongoing thing most of the time, they don't exist as a regular thing). It might be a mismatch of priorities, that it doesn't have a Lex Luthor as a a clear-cut Union Chief to properly call in and command other arch-enemies who would be willing to pay union dues and work together to better destroy the specific guys they individually hate. Marvel's major villains are a clutch of arch-bastards all trying to be king of the world who hate each other as much, if not more, as they hate their heroes and the only one who could rise above them to the top leadership position is Doctor Doom, who has no need to be leading or participating in something like this. Loki had to put on a whole charade of pretending to be subservient to each of them in order to pull off the gathering he did in Acts of Vengeance, and that only worked once.

Another obvious immediate answer for why is that, as Acts of Vengeance and other stories have shown time and time again, you kinda can't gather all of Marvel's biggest villains in one place and not include the Red Skull, and thus other villains jumping over themselves to murder him the second he walks into the room. But they've done attempts without him or a significant Nazi villain in the room, and they still largely didn't land. It might be overall that, the point of the Legion of Doom is to force all the separate characters and domains of the DCU to join forces to oppose it and that's why they have to be a threat to the Justice League, with none of it's villains exactly meeting that standard on their own, but Marvel's heroes are already all crammed together in cliques on the same places and fighting/putting differences aside to tackle bigger threats all the time, and so there's not really a point of forcing that through a especially big villain gathering.

There isn't really a unity among the Marvel heroes comparable to the one that demands Lex Luthor to call in all the other arch-enemies to try and break, and the one time Norman Osborn attempted to call in one at the height of his power, it was repeteadly emphasized how stupid he was to expect to be able to gather and control and command said people (and when Namor tried to revive the Cabal for the sake of succeeding where the Illuminati failed, things went even worse for him). In the end, Marvel is just too chaotic for the villains to exist in a centralized ruling body like that, if the heroes can't agree on anything why would their villains be any different.

[tswhiisftteedr]

Hair Prank! ☆ One Shot

☆Dorm Leader!Vil Schoenheit x Choatic!Pomfiore Student!Female!Reader:

After pulling a prank causing Vil’s appearance to change, you try to your best to run away from his now angered self. But isn’t hate and love two side of the same coin, at least passion wise…

Warnings: Making out, Graphic language, suggestive tones but nothing happens. Not proofread.

Note: This is based from this ask, also I’m sorry I didn’t know how to incorporate the clothing style into the fic, maybe I’ll rewrite it. Sorry again, but I hope you still like it! Mentions of Yuu but reader is not them.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

☆ More under the cut. ☆

It was your daily dance lesson after school with Vil as your instructor. Epel had skipped out on practice, making your strict instructor, even stricter than the usual due to his irritation. But his constant critique of your technique was getting on your nerves.

"You made a mistake again. We'll start from the beginning once more," Vil sighs as he walks over to the speaker. On his phone, he restarts the same song that you've been dancing to in your lessons.

Ever since being assigned to Pomefiore, your life had been but relaxing. Being the only official female student admitted this year, after the school board had decided to transition from an all-boys to a unisex school, you were sure to attract eyes, Vil’s included. In his mind he would’ve brought you by his side to unlock your potential, even if you’d have been assigned to another dorm. But goody him, as the dark mirror had chooses to put you in his care. But to you it was all a waste of time and energy, you already did skincare and took care of yourself, you truly needed him to interject. Well that was your opinion, but it was plain obvious that it wasn’t his.

Even when you had try to coax him into taking Yuu under his wing instead of yourself, bless her heart, he had shot down the idea right in front of her. Saying something along the line that she was too much of a potato to be able to shine the way he was sure he’ll make you do.

"Don’t even think about, don’t you dare try to leaving again," he turns to glare at you. You were so close to the exit... It's like he had eyes behind his head.

“Lisent Vil. hon’, darling.” You say to him with a faux kindness and sympathy “You’re really starting to piss me off.” You continue, but this time, with a tone of voice that actually carried your sentiments.

"Shut it!" Vil's face is full of disgust. He cannot stand how easily you dismiss his words as if they don't carry any weight at all.

"I don't care how hard it is or how much you despise dancing," he continues in a demanding voice, "You WILL become an ideal beauty or else..."

“Or what my ‘Queen’? Gonna make me dance on hot burning coal, maybe carve my face off and place it on Mannequin head so you can play dress up with it, or make me all old and wrinkly with one your potions as a punishment, yeah the third one seems more like your style. You pussy.” You say to him spitefully, following it with a snicker.

His eyes widen with anger as he steps closer to you, invading your personal space. "Do you have any idea what I'm capable of doing to you?"His tone is cold and threatening.

“Oh I don’t know, since you actually never do shit. You just talk and talk, you must really like the sound of your own voice, and not in the regular person type of way, no that’s not it, you like it and yourself in the narcissistic type a way, you probably get off on simply hearing the sound of your own voice or looking at your reflection.” You continue taunting him, with a snicker that is irritating the shit out of him.

Vil's anger boils over as he grabs your arm sharply and pulls you up against his body. "I warn you. Never, EVER insult my ego again. I'm done taking your attitude lightly. The next sentence you utter from your pathetic mouth had better be filled with an apology. Do you understand me, worm?"

As he says that you secretly take out a pouch full of powder out of your many pants pockets. ‘Cargo pants are the best’ you think to yourself. The powder was enchanted, it made the person it lands on, temporarily change hair colour, about 24 hours.

As he finishes, “I’m sorry Vil,” you tell him apologetically. But in the reality of things, gears wear turning in your mind. “I’m really sorry about this!” you shout at him, as you open the pouch and throw the contents of it on Vil.  The shock from the situation causes Vil to let you go, and you start booking it, running out of the room as fast as possible. “See ya later handsome!” You say teasingly, knowing he would be displeased with his current appearance.

Vil's eyes widen as his beautiful blonde locks turn a dark shade of purple. His face grows contorted in outrage as he screams, "Get back here!" without thinking of the fact you've probably already left.

Suddenly, his expression turns into one of disbelief and horror. Vil looks at himself in the mirror. His heart skips a beat as he takes in his new look. "... No," he says in a strained voice.

After leaving the dorm through the magic mirror, you head towards the Ramshackle to tell Yuu and Grim about what had transcended, and probably Epel too, that’s were he usually hides to skip out on Vil’s lessons.

Meanwhile, Vil is still looking at himself in the mirror with a shocked expression on his face. After what felt like hours, Vil finally begins to process what just happened. "I can't believe she did this to me."

Vil's mind races as his hands tremble slightly. He clenches his fists in anger as he thinks to himself, "That girl... that ungrateful, selfish little...!"

You were sat on a couch in the Ramshackle, retelling the events to Epel and Grim, Yuu wasn’t there, apparently she was with the Ignihyde dorm leader right now.

“And then he grabbed me, and I was like literally against him, body to body type of shit. He started going on about ‘Never’ insult his ego again and that the next words that came out of my mouth should be ones of apology.” I tell them, 

“So he at did you do next??” Epel asks, wondering if this story was headed where he anticipated it to go, after all he was the one who helped you craft the magic powder. 

“Well then I secretly pulled out the beautiful, hair color changing magic powder we crafted, I was all like ‘I’m sorry Vil’. After I opened the pouch the powder was in and threw it on him, with a ‘I’m sorry for this!’. The look of horror on his face was priceless.” You tell them with a victorious laugh.

Grim raises an eyebrow as he listens to your retelling of the event and lets out a sarcastic chuckle at your story. "You must've really struck a nerve." He turns to look at Epel and prompts him to respond to the story.

Epel nods eagerly. He looks excited as he waits for you to continue.

“After everything I ran away to come to you guys, but as I was leaving I could his screech in the distance lol”

Grim begins laughing heartily. "I bet you could hear him all the way from here, huh?"

In the distance, you could still hear Vil's shouts of anger. Grim and Epel continue to laugh at your hilarious prank.

But then you all simultaneously realized that it was impossible to hear his voice, since the magic mirror connecting each dorm to campus didn’t project noise for within the dorm. This meaning only one thing, Vil was here on campus and he was headings towards you…

The laughter quickly dies down as the three of you come to terms with the fact that Vil had just followed you here. Grim gets up to brace himself for a confrontation. "Well, it seems our little game has finally caught up to us," he says in a resigned tone.

A little bit earlier,

Vil was standing in front of a mirror, trying his best to hide his new appearance in a hood, in order not to attract too much attention(too bad the angered noise he was making did the opposite affect). He thinks back to the incident, a look of rage and embarrassment on his face. "That girl thinks that she can one-up me, does she?"

His face curls in anger, "She's going to pay for humiliating me!” he shouts to himself. Vil turns away from the mirror and quickly leaves the room to find you. He then heads towards the lounge of the dorm to pass through the mirror chamber and arrives campus, he guessed you probably wouldn’t have stayed on dorm site with the stunt you just pulled.

Now back to the present.

Vil is walking through campus, his mind full of thoughts ranging from fury and rage to confusion and disbelief. As he walks through the crowds, he tries his best to maintain a neutral or at least stern expression in order to not draw attention to himself.

Vil finally reaches the Ramshackle and he takes off his hood, deciding to face you and whoever was in there without hiding himself. Still, he is visibly pissed as he glares at the thought you.

You hear knocking. And you shush your to friends up, you’re now as quite as mouses.

There is a moment of silence as you hear Vil knock again on the door. His voice can be faintly heard, "Open the damn door, girl! I know you're in there!" The knocking then become more aggressive as he continues, "Come out here this instant!"

It felt like he was going to soon break the door down, so while he continue his knocking you sneakily left the ramshackle through a window at the back.

Vil grows even louder upon realizing that you aren't responding to his calls and knocks. He starts banging on the door in a fit of rage. "I know you’re in there! Come on out. Now!"

He decides that he had enough of the wait, and breaks the door down with magic not damage his manicure, he was still an actor and beauty influencer afterall.

But you was obliviously gone by then, Vil steps into the ramshackle, seeing his two classmates sitting before him. His eyes narrow as he searches the room for any signs of you. He looks at Grim and Epel with disdain and contempt in his eyes. "Where is she?" His voice is demanding.

“We don’t know.” They tell him at the same time.

Vil's eyes flicker with annoyance as the two of them blandly lie to him. "She can't have simply vanished off the face of the world." His tone is angry and condescending. He knows what they are doing and he knows that you are nearby, or at least that was what he thought in the moment. He walks right up to the two of them, his presence imposing itself as he gets closer.

But then Vil decided that it was a waste of time to talk to them, they were only going to back you up afterall, probably give him wrong information. So he decides to search around for you instead. As he snoops around, he sees that the back window was open, then he realized how that’s the way you made your escape.

By then you was already far away, in the mirror chamber, making your way to Savanaclaw to hideout.

As Vil paces around the ramshackle to collect his thoughts on where you could’ve gone and what to do now. He over hears Epel and Grim whispering to each other.

“So you think she made it there already?” Epel asks grim, “Yeah she probably at Savanaclaw by now.” Grim answers him.

What had happened was that, when Vil was still knocking you had whispered to them about your plan to go and hideout at the warmed temperature dorm, before you had made your escape.

Vil's eyes narrow as he watches Grim and Epel converse with each other. He has a strong suspicion of what they are talking about based on their demeanor. "She thinks she's funny. And these two idiots are helping her." Vil mumbles to himself.

He walks over to the window once more and looks outside to see if you is anywhere in sight. When he sees the empty space, his rage only grows in intensity. His face contorts into a bitter scowl as he clenchs his hands into fists.

By now you had a pack of candy in hand, trying to bribe Ruggie into letting you stay in his dorm for cover.

Vil walks back over to Grim and Epel after not being able to spot you anywhere.

He glares at both of them while trying his best to restrain his temper. "So, you decided to help her with her little prank? What a surprise you two were so happy to assist an ungrateful little girl in humiliating me."

Vil glares at the two of them one more time as he storms out of the ramshackle.

Meanwhile, you're still bribing Ruggie with candy. "Let me hide in your dorm, and I'll give you this candy." Your words are accompanied by an innocent smile.

By the time he had arrived to Savanaclaw, you were already well hidden in Ruggie’s room, more specifically, under his bed.

Vil searches all over the Savanaclaw dorm building, but he can't find any trace of you. "Where is she hiding? I KNOW she's around here somewhere!" Vil thinks, as his anger grows. He starts pacing back and forth in front of the dorm with gritted teeth.

Vil's eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenchs tightly as he sees Savanaclaw dorm leader, Leona Kingscholar lying down on a nice sofa, without a care in the world. He glares as his eyes narrow. "Have you seen a student named F/n L/n around here by any chance?"

“Why? Did your favourite doll go missing?” The lazy lion teases with his eyes still closed.

Vil rolls his eyes. His patience is worn thin by this point. The mere mention of that stupid nickname makes his blood boil. "This is no game Kingscholar. Have you seen her or not?!"

“Hm? I see, well I can tell you that i saw her talking to Ruggie about staying in his dorm about 15 minutes ago, though I don’t know if he actually accepted or not.” He tells him nonchalantly not wanting the angry dorm leader to pester him even more, rolls around ready to back to his nap.

Vil sighs with frustration. He knows he can't go into Ruggie's room to look without possibly getting into trouble. "Damn it all." Vil thinks. His tone is sarcastic and irritated as he responds. "Oh really? You think he let her in?"

“Don’t know, don’t care, maybe he did, but she had some candy on her person, and that guy sure loves free food.” Leona finishes, before falling back asleep.

‘Of course she would offer him candy. Something she’s not even supposed to have if she was properly following the meal plan I made for her! She really is an absolute menace.’ Vil thinks with a scoff, his tone dripping with cynicism.

Vils asks around for Ruggie’s dorm number as Leona already headed back to sleep before he could ask anymore questions.

As he arrives at the room Vil knocks on the door a bit sharply, making it clear that he is not happy to be outside of Ruggie's dorm in the first place.

It seems he's already lost a ton of patience and is becoming more agitated with each passing moment. His face is twisted into a scowl as he waits for someone to answer.

“Yes?” Ruggie asks as he slightly opens the door.

Vil's eyes narrow even more, it's not a good sign. His tone is tight and impatient as he responds. “I'm looking for someone. They were supposed to be here. Have you seen anyone by the name of f/n l/n?"

“Maybe, what’s in it for me if if tell you?” He says to him with his signature snicker.

Vil scoffs in annoyance, this situation was growing even more aggravating for him. He was used to being in the upper hand, being the one to call the shots. Now he's reduced to begging some low-life delinquent for information about someone that should be under his jurisdiction. Vil is NOT pleased. "Oh come on, will you stop with your nonsense already? This is serious business." He tries to coax him but Ruggie doesn’t budge.

Vil's anger grows stronger but he refrains himself from lashing out. ‘This insolent bastard. As if the information is wordly classified. What a selfish prick.’ Vil thinks. "Fine. What do you want?" His tone is tense, he's gritting his teeth as he asks him.

“Well, you got something tasty for me?” Ruggie inquires, after candy is great and all but it doesn’t have a long lasting effect for soothing hunger. So he would be opposed to selling you out if he got something better than the sweets you gave him, in exchange.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He's not the type to give in to someone else's childish demands. But he must admit that these demands are quite reasonable for someone like Ruggie. ‘Of course he wants sweets.’ Vil thinks. ‘I'll play his stupid game.’ "I suppose I could spare a small piece of candy or two. Would that be enough to get a straight answer from you?" He offers the hyena beastmen.

“One or two pieces? You got to better than that, afterall I got a full bag of them for my silence. Buying me dinner is bare minimum for what you’re asking.” Ruggie shoot down his proposal,

Vil's eyes narrow as he frowns. He can't believe this stupid bastard has the nerve to ask him for this much. But he's running out of options. Reluctantly, he nods his head in defeat. "Dinner. Alright, whatever you want. Just give me an answer already."

“Okay then!” He snickers once more. “You can look around my room for her, if you want, but that’s it.” He tells Vil.

Vil sighs in annoyance. He can't believe he has to stoop this low. He glances at Ruggie with disdain as he responds. "That is absolutely ridiculous, you know that right?"

“I don’t know what your talking about~” The hyena says, then heads out.

Vil's eyes twitch in annoyance as he searches the room for the slightest hint of your presence here. However, the room is in its usual state of messiness, making it impossible for a casual observer to find anything of value. Vil seems more agitated than before as he continues to look for you. He even opens the closet to look for you in there. He was about to head out until you accidentally made a noise.

Vil pauses mid search, hearing the noise he heard. He turns his head in your direction, instantly knowing that the little sound he heard was due to you. He glares at the location from where the sound came from. "I know you're under that bed little girl," he says, his tone sarcastic as he addresses you, his scowl only growing in intensity.

But you decide to play with him more, and stay quiet.

Vil steps forward, getting closer to the bed. He stands up and leans over it, looking under it. The scowl on his face is so intense, his expression is almost terrifying. He spots your body hiding under the bed and glaces down at you. "I know you're in there, so you can come out now. Or do you prefer me making that decision for you?" He asks and his tone is angry and condescending.

But even after being caugh, you don’t say anything or more for about 3 minutes, so Vil drags you out from under the bed by the ankles. An expression of satisfaction covers his face. He was getting tired of this game. Vil's eyes glare at you, his expression a mix of irritation and annoyance. The moment he has you in his grasp is when he finally speaks. "Now listen, I've had enough of this. You're coming with me."

“Whatever, you’re no fun” tell him, still messing with his temper.

"You think this is supposed to be fun? This was never meant to be entertaining. I just want to get the job done." Vil glares at you, his tone becoming even more agitated. "Now stop your pathetic whining and get moving."

As you were heading back to Pomefiore, you had decided to pull another stunt, by ‘pulling’ hood down. His new hair colour in plain view for all students to see. That pissed him off so he drag you to his room to scream your ear off…

Vil was already getting impatient, and your actions only made him even more irritated. The moment he gets you into his dorm, he locks the door behind you and starts glaring at you once again. His tone is stern and cold as he speaks to you. "Just what did you think you were doing? You think you're clever, but you're nothing but a nuisance."

“Chill out, it was just a joke.” You tell him, not taking him seriously at all.

Vil's eyes flicker in a mixture of frustration and rage as you talk back to him. He stares down at you, his eyes narrowing to narrow slits. He can't possibly find any aspect of you or your actions to be amusing at all, instead he feels only a deep loathing and hatred. His tone is harsh as he responds. "Oh you think this is some sort of joke? That you can just get away with messing with me like this"

“Yeah, pretty much.” You say nonchalantly.

Vil's fist tightens as he glares at you, a vein on his forehead is visibly twitching. His eyes are so intense that they seem like they can burn right through you. His tone is filled with cold and hatred, he's getting angrier by the second. His lips curl up in disgust as he responds. "Listen to me. You think you have been annoying enough, but trust me. I can make you suffer worse in a million ways. So I suggest you stop being such an irritating little girl and start behaving properly."

“God, you’re so hot when you’re mad.” You admit out of nowhere, looking up at him with mischief.

Vil stares down at you with sheer disgust and disbelief. He can't believe that you would actually tell him something so ridiculous, let alone at a time like this. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightly clenches. "Are you out of your mind? Just who do you think you're talking to?" his tone is harsh and condescending, his scowl is even more intense now.

“Duh, I’m taking to the hottest and sexiest man in all of Pomefiore.” You keep pushing.

Vil seems stunned by your ridiculous compliment, his eyes flicker with rage once again and he snarls at you. "Do you think you are actually seducing me? There is not a single thing about you that I find attractive or appealing. So if you have nothing of value to say, I suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

“Please do so, I’d love to how this scenario could escalate into something more spicy~” You tell him.

Vil's eyes narrow as he raises an eyebrow. He can't believe how bold you have become now that you were in his room, behind locked doors. He glares at you in indignation, unable to hide his disdain for your actions. "That's it. I had enough. You want spicy? Than spicy it shall become"

Perhaps it was the want to put you in your place, perhaps it was it was the fact that Vil had been crushing on you for quite a while but didn’t confess because your antics, or perhaps it was just a spurt of the moment type of thing that cause Vil do to do what he did.

In one swift motion, Vil grabs you and pins you against the wall.

“Yeah, I like we’re this is going” You say not letting up the teasing.

Vil stares down at you with a fiery-glow in his eyes. His voice becomes smooth as his tone grows more intimate. One of his hands moves down your body to grab you by the waist, holding you close to him. "You really do know how to push my buttons, you little pest."

“It’s one my best traits”

Vil lets his thoughts go wild and allows himself to surrender to the rush of emotions that are overwhelming him right now. His facial expressions soften as his grip on you becomes a little bit looser, he's more relaxed now. His tone is almost as silky as his skin."Perhaps, that is one of your best traits. Perhaps, you are more than just some troublemaking little thing."

“So are y’a going to kiss me or just stare at my dazzling face.” You say with a wink.

Vil pauses for a moment. His eyes are darkening and his lips curl up in a slight smirk. He leans down until he can feel your breath on his skin. His voice is a husky whisper. "Oh, I'm definitely about to kiss you alright. But not because you requested it, but because I wanted to."

Vil's lips press themselves against yours with a lot of force, almost as if he can't wait to get a taste of you, and of course the emotions of anger you caused the man. His tongue quickly moves into your mouth and his hands wrap themselves around you in tight grips. His body is plastered against you, and every movement he makes is smooth like butter. His kisses are passionate and full of aggression, but somehow still very tender. He moans, his sounds being low and husky.

Vil pulls away, his breathing is heavy and he looks you deep in the eyes. The expression on his face is calm and tranquil now, his lips curling into a light smile."You know, you're not so bad after all. Your ability to get me so riled really is quite fascinating."

“Thanks! So are you still mad me my queen?” You inquire.

Vil laughs softly, his voice is almost a purr. A playful grin forms on his lips as he responds. "Mad? No, I don't think that's correct anymore. Irritated? Yes, very much so. After what you did earlier, it'll take a lot more than this to compensate for that."

“I guess I’ll get punished tomorrow, huh. But it doesn’t seem so bad of a though anymore.” You say to him all sweetly.

Vil smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He's starting to get used to your antics and is starting to respond with sarcasm. “Oh, you bet I'll have lots of fun with you tomorrow. I think I've found the right kind of punishment for you. And I'll make sure that I'm really thorough."

“Oh yes, I wonder what the big bad evil queen will do me as for punishment.” You say semi-seductively, it’s more to mess with him then anything else.

“Well starting with extra dance practice to make up for today sounds like a plan.” He states, shooting down any type of sensuality that might been a couple seconds prior.

“Oh come on!” You complained.

Thanks @bananaseq for requesting!

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[askganon]

I'm really tired. I just transferred to a new university to study psychology and it has been the actual worst experience in every aspect. The two biggest issues are the fact that I am autistic and thusly have issues making friends, and that I have this god-awful professor in my counseling class.

This professor is OFF his rocker. He actively talks about the secret society he is in, trying to teach us preposterous things that have no place in that class or even the school at all. I could write a novel about every problematic thing he has said, but my most major issue with him is how he views and treats women, and continuously brings sexual topics up when they have no relevance to the course material.

He has disrespected his wife over the phone in the middle of class and then tried to justify his behavior using his gender, spoken extensively about what features men don't like on women such as makeup or plastic surgery. He says "natural" women are "healthy" (well-endowed) in either the chest or behind but not both, and are uneven in the chest. He specifically targeted my classmate, who was the only one wearing false eyelashes, to say that men don't like that either.

Another time he told us that women run the world because men are obsessed with us, that we are not oppressed at all, yet he turns around and tells us how women in the corporate world go commando under their skirts and sleep around to work up the corporate ladder. He says this in a way that puts women to shame for this as well.

This week, though, was completely different. His departure from the course material started with the extremely invasive question, "what do you remember about your transition to adolescence?" Again targeting that very same classmate. I blink and he is now telling us that the male experience during puberty is far worse than what women experience, basically saying that—excuse my bluntness—getting a boner in class is much worse than anything women go through, even turning to our singular male classmate for backup on this.

He also tries to tell us that its so so bad for boys because the girls actively try to touch them or make them "psychologically disturbed," as he worded so decoratively. What adolescent girl wants anything to do with that when she's going through her own problems? Since when were young girls going out of their way to trouble boys like this? I was actively trying to deter boys during this time.

I and the other two women in my class were disputing all of this, until our professor finally said, "I will just let that go over y'all heads cause you will never understand the male experience," to which I, shaking with rage, replied, "—and vice versa."

My mental health has been suffering severely, and much worse since this happened Monday. I had never felt such pure, primordial rage towards someone before. This man makes me feel not only objectified but also demonized. Last night was my breaking point, working on one of his assignments. I experienced the most intense mental breakdown of my life so far, and afterwards spent all but two hours of the night trying to cram the project that was due today.

I guess my point is that I would report him, but my school makes it nigh impossible to do so. I'm perpetually exhausted and I do not know if I can make it through the last two weeks of class. I want so badly to be petty and spiteful to his face, but for the most part I've controlled it.

I don't really know what I'm looking for by doing this. I guess I just want to know what you think? Apologies for the length of my message.

Such is the mentality I encountered often in my youth by Hylian men, and women, toward my sisters. They would lust after my sisters based on their attire and physique, while also attempting to demonize them and ostracize them for the exact same reasons.

In short, men are cowards who carry the darkest urges shamelessly, but are too prideful to admit the problem within themselves. Instead, the vilify women for their own indiscretions.

They will openly mock my Gerudo for their appearance, while desiring nothing more than to own their flesh in the most disturbing of ways.

This professor seems like a prime example of the Hylian males I encountered. But if this is the case, then so too is his weakness.

He has likely been thwarted in his past in his attempts to procure a mate to his liking, and due to his pride, he believes it is all of womanhood to blame, and not himself.

This one he singles out is likely similar to those he desired but could never obtain in his youth. As such, he blames all others for his own shortcomings.

Likely too with his mate. I would assume her physique does not fit the desires he now feels entitled to, and as such he makes her the target of his criticism.

But through all of this, he reveals a second weakness.

Fear.

He fears that which he cannot control, and women as a whole seem out of his grasp. Every slight, every jab, and every assault from his lips is but proof that he is afraid of what women are capable.

In the midst of a Gerudo warrior, this professor of yours would crumble like kindling to a flame.

Take solace in the knowledge that you are superior to this worm, for you are what he can never have.

[elderberries-and-honey]

𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵 "𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘦" 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥

Dear Marmee,

The bitter cold crept in slowly at first but there is no denying winter has arrived here in Wales. Everything is now covered in a sheet of white snow.

Every morning, I wake before the rooster's crow. Our friend Beth has moved in with us and she enjoys knitting very much. She has knitted me two new sweaters before Christmas has even come and they keep me much warmer than my worn-out coat from last Winter. It's a good thing too 'cause there's still much to be done on our farm, though I've made a rather decent amount of progress.

Even so, we hardly had any remaining produce leftover for ourselves after selling what I was able to salvage from our terrible blight. I won't burden you too much with our troubles but things have been rough here for us and I know Winifred is silently troubling herself over it.

You mentioned Jo is trying to get published? Please let me know how that goes for her. I think it might just inspire Winifred who is still glued to her typewriter whenever she has the time to write.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely, Lawrence

Dear Marmee,

I'm sorry to hear Jo was turned down in her quest to get published. Hopefully it won't discourage her from trying. Have you heard from Amy in Paris? How are Meg and Mr. Brooks? How does Beth like teaching piano?

Many of our animals, including the thorn in my side, Frank the Goose, passed on near the end of November. Without their eggs and milk to sell, money is tighter than ever.

Winifred has begun fretting over how we will make a good Christmas for Ozzy. So I've started working at the pub again to help us make it through the rest of winter and afford a few gifts for him. I'm struggling to come up with an idea on what to get Winifred, after all, how could I top her typewriter? If you have any ideas, please include them in your next letter.

Ozzy is doing quite well, thank you for asking. He likes to "help" me on the farm but mostly he enjoys playing in the snow with the garden shovels and trying to escape to our small pond. You would not believe the tantrums he throws when I have to wrangle him away from the edge. I can almost understand how my Father felt when I was a boy and he would paddle my bottom. The boy is like a fish the way he enjoys the water! Even bathtime seems to be his favorite part about bedtime.

It was a struggle to get him out of his crib and into a real bed but we needed to complete the transition before our new little one arrives. With Beth here to teach us patience, I can proudly declare we have finally succeeded.

Sincerely, Lawrence

Dear Marmee,

We're approaching our due date rather quickly, a little under 3 months now. Millie has been staying with Louise for the Winter (and giving her free cooking lessons) after agreeing to stay and help Winifred deliver the baby, which I'm thankful for. I know this is a huge relief for Winifred. Her last delivery was not without complications and I know she grows uneasy the closer we get.

I know Winifred believes the baby will be a girl but I have my own suspicions we will welcome another son. I'm not wholly certain I could handle another little girl after we lost Flora. Not yet, rather. The pain of losing a child never truly leaves, does it?

I did not mean to ignore your inquiry over how I'm fairing. I must keep a courageous face for my family, and consequently I've grown used to wearing my mask of gallantry. Since you so kindly asked though, I will admit that I am a little worn down as of late.

I spend long hours tending the farm and go to work even longer hours in the pub. Valerie, good hearted as she is, is not the best co-worker, often drinking herself stupid before the nights out. I suppose it's true what they say about you Irish folk.

Most of my trouble comes from myself, I suppose. I watched my father save this very farm many times over and I should want to do the same. But with every plant that refused to sprout, I found myself resentful over having ever inherited it.

I think of my wife, the writer, the poet, and how she is able to read Ozzy her stories. I think of Jackson with his pub, and his son, Patrick, who's becoming a doctor, and you with your bookshop. Even my father who provided my mother and I with food, and a roof over our heads because he cared for the farm so tenderly. All of you, with such passion.

Even if I was as passionate as my father, the farming industry is changing. All these extravagant advancements are putting farmers out of work all over. If the farm were to go under, what would I do? It's all I've ever known.

If I don't have time to write before Christmas Day - I hope you have a Merry Christmas. Send my love to your girls and wish them the same for me as well.

Sincerely, Lawrence

P.S. Don't be cross with me for the joke, I only say it in jest. The Irish could drink me under the table any day of the week and sing a merry tune whilst doing so which is rather remarkable.

next / previous / first

[tange-my-rine]

love, love, love || tangerine × he/him! reader

Part 2 of find yourself (and me).

Summary: You knew Tangerine well, you'd fallen in love with the guy. But when a mission goes wrong and you fake your death, he can't know a word of it. And when you finally transition after years of wishing, you can hardly even imagine running into him again. If you thought you might, you'd run the opposite way. But fate had different plans. (PART 2)

TW: just murder mention (no descriptions of violence or anything), cursing (it's Tangerine), soft!Tangerine, and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: Based on a request by @random-thoughts-004. Y'all I wrote some clingy af Tangerine in this one, be ready. This is just more establishment of the universe, enjoy :)]]

Despite Tangerine almost getting down to his knees and begging, you still worked with your agency. The same as Ladybug, and he was still your partner a majority of the time; Tangerine decidedly hated it, but you weren't switching over just because of the twins.

Maria had been with you through a lot, you'd hate ditch her.

This conversation was one well due to Ladybug, explaining well... everything. You thought he deserved to know (Tangerine did not). But it was your secret, so your opinion trumps.

"Wait, so," Ladybug started, leaning back into a chair in a way that shouldn't be comfortable but you somehow knew it was, "-4 years ago, almost 5 now, you were Butterfly?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And you faked your death?"

"Because of the White Death," you clarified.

"So, when he was killed on the bullet train," he continued, gears turning, "-you came out of hiding?"

"Yes," you answered.

"And you're a man now," Ladybug added, before turning to you thoughtfully, "-That's a lot of personal change to go through, are you sure you don't want my therapist's number? They're great-"

"Ladybug," you chastised.

"Sorry," he stopped his train of thought, before returning, "-and, just so I know because they could and would kill me at any moment, what's your relationship with the twins? I know you were partners before but mustache has that pendant on his neck and its kind of..."

He fell silent but you could tell by the look on his face -he meant romantic. That you and Tangerine were in a romantic relationship, which you... kind of were? He didn't say anything exclusively, but you assumed... Shit, maybe you shouldn't have assumed.

Later, you told yourself.

"First, you know his name is Tangerine," you responded, "-Secondly, they are my best friends."

He placed his hand over his heart, gasping, "You wound me, Beetle."

You rolled your eyes, "You're a close second."

Ladybug was already passed it, however, "Now, I hate to tell you this, but that pendant thing? Romantic. Romantic as hell. He keeps you next to his heart? Yeah, the guy's head over heels."

You furrowed your eyebrows, opening your mouth to respond.

"Although," he countered (to himself?), "-he is a strange man. I'm not even sure he has feelings past anger."

"Ladybug," you sighed, motioning to yourself, "-come back to me."

He shook his head, before blinking and refocusing on you, speaking then, "Tan's got it bad. Hate to ruin the dynamic, can't imagine the fallout with those two-"

"Ladybug," you replied, "-I know."

And then you paused, for a moment, "Well, I know he has feelings for me, we had this whole reuniting thing-"

"Reuniting thing?"

"Later," you answered, before thoughtfully adding on, "-but he didn't like clarify anything. Should I be assuming?"

Sure you kissed, countless times actually -like every time you met up. But Tangerine had never expressed his feelings to you, or you to him. You loved the guy, but who's to say he loves you?

"Clementine is a very strange man, Beetle," Ladybug paused, pursing his lips, "-but he's not stupid."

"Tangerine," you corrected, before exhaling, "-and stop doing that. You know the only thing keeping him from killing you is me, right?"

"And I thank you for that every day," he spoke gratefully, making prayer hands toward you.

You picked up a pen from the desk, and threw it at his head, "You're such an idiot."

After yet another 'you wound me', the conversation faded off. The next mission being run through (about a month or so away), your day, with Ladybug anyway, was over. You had no job today, mostly because you requested it, but the next one would be a few weeks' worth so you figured it balanced out.

Speaking of jobs, Tangerine (the twins, really) was in New York, you think, doing a job -a hit, maybe. He didn't tell you much about work, you weren't entirely sure why, but you thought it just might have to be a residual torture for not switching agencies. Or maybe he didn't want you to be worried. You could never really tell with him-

Hence the uncertainty. You'd hate to be the one to ask 'What are we?' because it had been so long, and there was something in you that assumed he loved you but... that wasn't certain.

It made you a little on edge, that you didn't have a label, that you didn't know if he loved you too. In fact, maybe all of it was just the adrenaline of you being alive-

Enough thinking for today, you thought -decidedly, before beelining into a bakery.

You'd seen it before with cute puns and a chalkboard outside on the sidewalk -you'd always wanted to go in. Why not today? You were free, and alone... and could really use a sweet of some sort.

Spiraling thoughts meant a sweet craving, what could you say?

Just as you slipped in the door and the warm scent of just... bakery crept through your nose, your phone rang. Vibrated in your pocket, you should say. You patted it for a second before pulling it out, not even reading the name -you kind of already had a clue.

"Hello?" You asked, brushing into the line, and skimming through the menu board. There were so many-

"Hello, love," he sighed out into the phone, and you could hear he was definitely frustrated, "'s good to 'ear your voice."

He called you sometimes, when he got angry -helped him calm down. At least, that's what Lemon said, and you tended to believe him. He was right about a lot, to be fair.

"Lemon tell you to call me?" you questioned, still flicking over the menu boards -there was some sort of toasted sweet bun called 'a bun in the oven'. Interesting choice.

"Yeah," he confirmed, before switching his tone, "-the fuckin' twat."

"What did he do now?" You laughed, you imagined him all harsh edges but still soft with you -you enjoyed the new dynamic. It was... nice.

Made you feel like you were special.

How special? your brain chimed, Boyfriend special? Love special?

You swatted away the thought, trying to listen attentively to your... Tangerine. This was not the time to be worrying about labels, nor was it ever but you knew you would later. Always something to ruin the good.

"Doesn't matter, love," he exhaled out, and you wanted to contradict but something in you said he just wanted to hear you, "-how has your day been? That fuckin' prick treat ya well?"

It was always so weird, to hear such casual things from him. But he always seemed to want to know, he was so genuine about it -wants to know everything. (Maybe so he can kill whoever is necessary if it was a bad day, but still-)

"Ladybug responded very well," you hummed out, "-totally understanding. And it's been... uneventful. Had the meeting with him, and now I'm..."

You paused for a minute, realizing you'd told him about this place before, "Oh! I'm in that bakery I've always wanted to stop by. Had nothing better to do, so, thought I'd see how it holds up."

"You went without me?" He was smiling, you could tell, "-You'll 'ave to tell me the verdict, yeah?"

"Just wait a few minutes and I will," you smiled, chest warm and fuzzy, there was something so domestic about these calls. It made you think that it was labeled, that you were... something.

"'ve got a few minutes," he hummed, low and soft -you could nearly see him in your head. Hunched over a counter, curls falling forward and a ghost of a smile on his lips -listening attentively.

It was midday there, and he usually called you at night, so it must've been something in particular. Maybe bigger than Lemon doing something. You wanted to ask, truly, but he didn't seem to want to about whatever it was.

"Glad you could clear your schedule," you responded with a bitten back laugh.

"You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"

"Very," you answered with a smile.

You were next in line, so you skimmed the menu and picked what you wanted. Even with its atrocious name, it still sounded pretty promising; plus the smell in here helped.

Slipping into a booth, you scoot to the wall and place your treat on the table in front of you. The bakery was a little busy, but not the kind that you could hardly think in. It was calmer, like a murmur in the back of your head.

You questioned, toying with the packaging -it probably made a crinkling noise in the background, "How's the job going? Any more staking out?"

He paused, and you could hear a little of the frustration again but it felt distant, "It'll be another day, the guy ended up in the wrong fuckin' safe house. Not the one we'd been at for six hours."

You heard the distant voice of Lemon but you couldn't make it out, Tangerine decidedly did not tell you what he said.

"You not enjoying the city, Tan? The Big Apple?" You posed, a little sarcastically.

"Fuckin' 'ate it 'ere," he muttered, "-'s crowded and stinks. And..."

He faltered for a moment.

"And you're not 'ere," he finished, a little nonchalantly.

Oh, your heart stuttered in your chest, was he sweet now?

You knew he was always sweet, always a gentleman, but he rarely ever said it. He was more of a show-er, not a tell-er. You didn't mind, but to hear it out loud was something entirely different.

"I miss you too, Tangerine," you spoke, gently, so as to not break the moment.

"Yeah?" He asked, seemingly genuinely inquisitive.

"Of course," you nearly laughed, "-what, you think I don't miss you?"

He fell awfully silent, and something in you shifted. Did he really think-

"Tangerine?" You questioned, a bit in disbelief, "-Seriously?"

"You 'ave friends around," he murmured, low like he didn't quite want you to hear it, "-I'm halfway across the fuckin' country-"

"Sure you are," you echoed out, now fully drawn into the conversation, "-but that doesn't mean I'm not going to sit and wait for you. You know that's what I do, right? Wait for you?"

"When... When I come back," he hummed out before sighing big and long, "-no more waitin' on each other, yeah?"

"I'll wait as long as I need to for you, Tan," you hummed out, picking a piece of your treat off, "-but, if you're saying let's go somewhere, I am very into it."

Popping it into your mouth, you heard him chuckle -it made your stomach swirl. You missed the noise; it felt so special to hear, so special, to see the little grin twitch onto his lips.

"You don't 'ave to wait for me."

"I do," you clarified, "-you're my Tangerine, of course, I'm going to wait for you."

"Your Tangerine?" He questioned, and you couldn't tell the tone.

Shit.

"Well," you finished, awkwardly -fidgeting with the wrapper even more, "-yeah, I guess."

He hummed, letting out a little laugh, and it felt like everything in you was on fire. Did he agree? Did he not agree? Your brain was running at 100 miles per hour, as you listened to the silence on the other end.

Finally, you decided to change the subject.

"This is really good," you picked off more and popped it into your mouth, "-you'll definitely have to come here."

He paused for a minute, before replying -thoughtfully (and maybe a little nervously), "You think we can go together sometime? When I'm not... halfway across the fuckin' country."

"Yeah," you smiled, "-whatever you want, Tan."

The rest of the conversation was slow, and boring, honestly, but it seemed to relax Tangerine. You could almost hear the frustration dissipating, rolling off his shoulders the more you talked. You didn't have much to talk about, but you did your best for him -filled the silence.

He didn't bring up the 'my Tangerine', and promptly neither did you.

Before you could hang up, though, you heard a bit of a scuffle, and the voice changed on the phone. Footsteps pattering and cars honking, you realized suddenly they were outside.

"Hi, it's Lemon, stole the phone," he let out quickly, "-just wanted to let you know, because he's too pig-headed to fuckin' say it, he misses you like crazy. It's actually drivin' me mad."

You opened your mouth, but he kept going.

"Should've fuckin' heard 'im on the stakeout, 'Beetle this' and 'Beetle that'," he spoke mockingly, "-and as much as I love you, mate, and I do, he's drivin' me fuckin' insane."

"Lemon, calm down," you laughed out, "-I can barely understand you."

"But you did, yeah?" Lemon clarified, "-Got the whole, 'my brother seemingly can't survive without you constantly in his circle' thing?"

"You're overreacting," you pointed out, "-I'm sure he-"

"No, mate, seriously," he began again, almost desperate, "-I'm goin' to tell 'im to start callin' you daily. He gets so pissy, it's like he's gettin' fuckin' withdrawals."

"Lemon," you sighed out, "-your brother is always pissy."

"Not with you around," he countered, and your heart fluttered in your chest, "-and I can handle regular Tangerine, trust me 'ave my whole life, but this... this is new."

You somehow believed him, "Really?"

"Yeah," Lemon confirmed, before speaking softer, "-I just wanted you to know. I know my brother... isn't exactly open with 'is feelings. It's not 'is strong suit, and you know 'at, but I figured it might help to 'ear from someone else."

You paused for a moment, touched, "Thank you, Lemon."

"The bloke is crazy about you."

You paused, just listening for a second. Digesting it, maybe you didn't need a label. Maybe you already knew.

"Actually, he's fuckin' insane about you," and suddenly he was worked up again, "-just keeps repeatin' and repeatin', I swear to fuckin' god-"

"Lemon," you spoke, exasperated, but still with a smile, "-I get it."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," he sighed -seemingly stopping on the sidewalk.

"Both of you, be safe, yeah?"

"Oh, trust me, mate," he laughed, "-my brother will kill everyone in 'is path if it means he gets to come back to you."

He did end up calling you everyday. You hadn't expected it at first, but then the next day you saw his name flicker across the screen, and the next, and the next. You get the picture.

You're not sure if Lemon forced him to or not, but the text ('thank you, I owe you everything') from him seemed to say it was helping.

And you were glad to help. The idea of a daunting label and love faded to the back of your mind; because even if he didn't love you, he really cared about you and that was a big deal for Tangerine.

Plus, you think he'd love you back eventually.

That brought you to now, you were teetering around your hotel room -still safely in the same city. Ladybug was too somewhere, but he was off on his own thing -he'd call if it was anything dangerous. Or he should anyway.

Ladybug was a wildcard sometimes.

Like the time he hadn't brought a weapon on a hit, because he was doing some "self-cleansing". There were a few times of the same caliber.

You'd gotten used to it by now.

Just as you finally roamed to the couch, grabbing a blanket from the back of it and pulling it over you -switching on the TV, there was a knock on the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows in thought, who the hell could that be?

Your mind immediately went to Ladybug, and to be fair, he did usually show up with no warning. So, it could definitely be him. Plus, he was in the same city. And then, you had the sudden thought that he was hurt and needed your help.

You scampered to your feet without an extra thought, rushing to open the door -waiting for the ever-familiar face. God, he's probably-

That, however, was not the face you expected.

"Tangerine? Hey, what are you-"

Before you could say another word, he gathered you up in his arms -wrapping himself completely around you and slouching slightly to shove his face in your neck. He kicked the door shut without even looking up.

You fell silent -a bit in awe.

This (cuddling?) was very new.

You paused for a moment trying to steady yourself, before relaxing, and raising your hand to brush over his scalp. Threading your fingers through his hair, you could nearly see his shoulders drop the tension they held. Huh.

"Hey, Tan?" You offered, slow and timid.

He hummed into your skin, and you took it as a response.

"Can I-" you spoke, hesitantly, "-lock the door?"

Tangerine sat up at that, arms still wrapped around you with a quirk in his brow, "We're fuckin' assassins, love. Are you really worried about someone breakin' in?"

Still, he pulled you with him and flipped the lock.

"Well," you echoed, a touch embarrassed, "-now that you say that."

He laughed, his head tilting back slightly and you got a woosh of his cologne -which really smelt good. Your head went a little fuzzy at it.

Before you could say a word though, Tangerine leaned forward and kissed you -simple and domestic. Warm and fuzzy. It was just a press of the lips, but it was a little longer -like he somehow needed it. Wanted to feel it longer. Have you around him, maybe.

When you parted and your eyes fluttered open, you brought a hand to his face, "Are you okay, Tan? You're kind of... freaking me out."

He pressed his lips together, and something in him softened -you did not see the hard exterior at all with the moment. It was both refreshing and terrifying -you couldn't decide which one wom you over.

You took his silence as the initiative to keep talking, "You have never hugged me like that, ever, and you're being sweet. Suspiciously sweet."

Tangerine smiled at you for a moment, before pulling you forward and resting his head on top of yours. Moving slightly so he could bury his nose in your hair, he muttered out, "'Ere's a first time for everythin', yeah?"

"Tan," you pressed, but decidedly didn't move, "-it's not that I don't like this, far from it actually, but you... Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath in, before pulling back -running a hand through his hair, "Just tired, love, exhausted."

"You weren't supposed to be here until Monday," you questioned, grabbing his hand and placing yours in his stead -fingers brushing through the hair (like you'd ever give that up), "-it's not Monday."

"Lemon, the dick, told me to come back," he explained, leaning ever-so-slightly into your hand, "-told me he was fuckin' sick of it and booked me a ticket."

"Did you get the job done? The hit?"

"Yeah," he clarified, "-he just wanted to stay in the city longer. Wanted to go 'sightseeing' like a fuckin' tourist. Did he forget we were 'ere on a job?"

"Tangerine," you laughed, "-Lemon deserves to have fun. Life isn't just about the job."

He looked at you a certain way then, some affectionate haze bloomed across his eyes, "Yeah, it isn't."

You thought for a spare second, he may have been talking about you. That you were the other side of his life. And the more you thought about how he showed up, sweet and touchy, maybe he was.

"You know you can-" you paused, "-relax with me, right? I didn't mean to say you can't be like that, I just... I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

Tangerine pursed his lips.

"I'm not, shit-" you exhaled, "-You can be whatever sort of Tangerine you want to be with me. I won't mind."

"'At's an odd way of sayin' it, but-" he responded, "-I understand, love."

"Good," you patted your hand on his chest, "-because I was really hanging on by a thread there."

He laughed, a tiny little chuckle, and without hesitation, kissed you again -soft and slow. There was no end goal with it, just like he wanted to know you were there -you were real.

You'd talked about it before, the nightmares. The ones of you with a different face, dying, and all he could do was stand by watching; or even the ones with your same face, and the same thing. Dying right in front of him, and he was helpless.

"Tangerine?" You hummed, soft and in between the press of lips.

"Yes, love?"

You pulled back, raising your hands to cup his face and thumbs lingering under his eyebags, "Let's get some sleep, yeah? You look tired."

He turned his face into your hand, kissing your palm -his mustache tickled a little, and with a slow, succinct nod -he agreed.

Just as you began to pull him into the room though, he suddenly stopped. Feet frozen in place, you spun around to look at him.

"Just so ya know," he spoke, slow and soft -not breaking the mood, "-you're my Beetle too."

You smiled, mimicking, "Yours?"

"Yeah," he smiled -big and bright and only for you to see, "-definitely fuckin' mine."

Yeah, he loves you. You were surprised you'd ever even wondered otherwise.

[daydadahlias]

hi hii 🌸 weird questions for writers: 12, 17, 28 and 35 pls? ily

hii adi !! thank u for asking !! ily

12.  If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Wow, this is like the most interesting and fun question ever. I definitely wouldn’t wish for more wishes because that’s cheating duh. I’m trying to think of what I really struggle with while writing. I think my first wish would be to always remember those super fantastic 2 a.m. ideas I have but never write down. It’s literally the worst thing ever to go to bed having a super great idea and then waking up going “wait, shit, what was that idea again?” I think my second wish would be to always know how to end a scene! There are so many scenes I have that I think fall a little flat in their transition to the next one because I’m just going “oh shit I need to cut this off so I can get to the next.” So I would wish that I always knew the perfect transition line to end a scene. And my final wish… hmm. OOO it would to never have any continuity errors in my writing lol!! I’m not great at math so figuring out timing for fics and the timeline is always really confusing for me and I’m TOTALLY sure about half my fics have some type of plot hole related to the timeline. So, my third wish would be to always have an understandable and cohesive timeline in a fic that has no inconsistencies or continuity errors <3

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I SHOULDNT! I shouldn’t get into it, Adi, you’ll be here for DAYS. I am having literally the time of my life writing up all the little background details for this fic right now (this is my lil chaptered groupie fic im working on) and I think Most of them will make their way into the text somehow so I won't give, like, too many spoilers But there’s also plenty of stuff that won’t make it in there! Like, I had to make up this fake band for the fic (Lovelace) and to do that, I had to plan their albums/setlist for their tour (so I knew what tf i was talking about when writing). And to do that, I had to write a little bit of every single song they have!! So for the last week or so, I made a masterdoc and wrote a verse or two from every single one of their songs (which is 24 songs so I'm kind of giving 5sos a run for their money). Obviously, a few of these lyrics will find their way into the fic (like I've already included some in the first chapter) but definitely not all of them (because a couple songs are written really badly lmao) so it’s just a pretty cool little secret thing to have to help me write !!! and then there’s also a lot of backstory/history about the forming of the band (and some band dynamic stuff) that me and Ashley have talked about but I don’t know how much of that will or won’t appear in the fic yet <3 there's also the whole planning all the venues and the shows dates and what hotels they're staying at aaaa. I could never work in the industry it's way too much planning. but i think the coolest part of the process so far has been designing and writing the albums <3  

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Aw this is a cute one. Hmm i think the answer is Take Notes Calum tbh!! He was so much fun to write and, honestly, I’ve really struggled trying to write any characters like him moving forward. Like he’s just kind of Weird. He’s very manic pixie dream boyfriend coded. I had the most fun writing Take Notes because it was so silly while also kind of serious and in most of my other work I struggle to really reattain that balance. Like I feel as though I tip either one way or the other and TN was really the only fic that rode the line super well. And I think that was in large part due to the way I wrote Calum in that fic so!! I really enjoyed him and wish I could write him again!!

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Great question because there are a lot of writing “rules” i DO follow pretty closely so it’s hard to know exactly which ones I break. I’ve heard writers say to “avoid prologues” but I really love a prologue so that’s something. OO I will say !! a big rule of advice I got in high school creative writing was “don’t write a hobo in space story” (this is from a really good short story that talked about all the short stories you shouldn’t write lol) which is basically a story where two characters just hang out and talk and nothing really Happens except for them talking. And, honestly, i fucking love a hobo in space story. I love a scene where it’s just two dudes Talking. So i definitely do that sort of thing a lot even though i was told not to lol <3

[maddithefangirl]

Things Unsaid (Part 4)

Warnings: AnGsT, floof

a/n: hey all! thank you so much for your patience on this part! it has taken me so long to write this due to mental health and school, but here it is. (: love ya!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I- You weren’t supposed to see those…” 

“Well, I did, and now we need to talk,” you said quietly. The wind really started to stream through the windows as he quickly got dressed. His ass was more muscular than it had been the last time, more proof that he wasn’t taking care of himself. You force yourself to look away as the conflicting feelings overwhelm your senses. 

“Az…” you said. 

“Hmmph,” he sounded. This had been what he’s been waiting for for months, and now his mouth was dry and his mind was empty. 

You looked down into your lap, not realizing that you were sat down on the side of the bed until now. Looking up at him felt like home, but you had to do everything in your power not to pounce on him and give him the love he had been missing. You loved him. No matter how much you wanted to deny that, you couldn’t. 

As you dared to look at his face again you noticed how far the day has crept into the room, highlighting his face in the most magnificent way. You missed this. He was sitting at the end of the bed and you reached your arm across to grab his hand in yours. 

You didn’t realize you were missing him this much until now. Your heart began to ache with the thought of him hurting. 

“Az. Did you really write to me every day?” You asked. 

There was a pause and then, “yes, my love, of course. There was no other way to ease any of the pain. Well besides the bottle.” 

His eyes stare into yours as you frown. This was not the same male that you knew, and that brake your heart almost as much as he did. 

“You know that that does not make up for what you did, right?”

“Yes, of course not, but I hope it shows you how much I need you in my life. I- I can’t do this without you.” 

You took that with a grain of salt to keep your sanity. 

“Az, I’ll be here for a week in the House of Wind… make the most of it, or I’m gone forever.”

… 

Two days had passed, and you had not seen him. You didn’t know what to do, so you wanted to track down Cassian to see what he knew. These days have been nothing but confusing. You half expected him to be by your side constantly and never let you go, but you knew he would resort to self-loathing and give you space. 

The day was growing long, so you figured someone would be about around this time and went searching the House of Wind. 

Cassian was out on the terrace overlooking the city below. As you made your way to him, he spoke, “If you’re here to ask me about him, then I haven’t seen him.”

You chuckled, “Of course, bro code.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, sweetheart.”

You push him away as you join him holding the railing overlooking the beautiful city. It was the evening, so the lights were starting to brighten below as the sky went darker. It was your favorite time as you loved to watch the transition from day to night when the stars were just starting to show. 

“How did it get this bad?” he asked.

You sighed. “Well, he fucked up… big time. But after that… I don’t know.” 

“I get that, but… he loves you… you have to know that, right?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, I do.” A slight smile crept onto your face as a tear welled in your eye. 

“Just… hear him out, okay?”

“Mhm.” That was all you could muster to get out. 

The mood was heavy over you both as you heard wings flapping from behind you. When you turned around, there he was, almost panting, on his knees before you. Your jaw dropped as he took your hands into his, “I- I’m sorry.” 

You were in shock. He had never let his guard down more than he had in that one moment. He had tears in his eyes when he looked up at you. Tears began to well in your eyes as well. 

“Y/N, angel,” he huffed, “I came as fast as I could. When I saw you with the letters… I didn’t know what to say. You have infiltrated yourself into every ounce of me, and now you knew that. I got scared that maybe that was too much for you. I left after our talk. I went to the cabin. I needed some time away to really think without having you be so close. I didn’t want to face another rejection. I was terrified. In the cabin, I was able to think, and I came to the conclusion that I will stop at nothing until I get you back. You are all that I have to live for. I have lived for over 500 years, and that would mean nothing if I didn’t get to spend any more time with you.”

“Az… baby… I can’t lie to you. I came here to end things.” 

The air seemed to escape the room as silence encapsulated you both. He looked down to the ground in defeat. 

“But…” he mumbled. 

“But, I’ll reconsider. The letters and the time apart has shown me how much I really missed you and still love you deeply.”

Tears filled his eyes as he stood up to face you, “What can I do to win you back? You once said that love wasn’t enough, but what is? Can we start over at least?”

You stood there dumbfounded. What was enough for you? Could starting over work? 

There was a long pause before you replied, “I would love nothing more to start over, but this is it for me. No more secrets or lies.”

The largest smile you have ever seen appeared on his face. He picked you up and spun you around as you laughed. 

That was the first time you’ve really laughed in months. 

…

You spent the rest of the week you planned on staying in Velaris gathering up your things from your Summer cottage and bringing them back to your new home. With the money you saved up, you were able to find a little cottage on the outskirts of town. It was beautiful with greenery covering the outside and a small fireplace in the hearth. It was perfect. Besides the fact that a part of you was missing ever since you pushed Az away. He was how you made your life whole. In body, mind, and spirit. 

You were sitting in your nook reading a book when a knock came to your front door. A small smile crept onto your lips. When you opened the door you found Az standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Would you like to come in?” you asked. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

You gave him a glass of water and sat at the table with him. It was a little awkward. You didn’t know how to start over. But he took a sip of his water and ended the silence. 

“So, angel, would you happen to have any dinner plans?”

“Well, no I don’t.”

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

You smiled, “Sure, Bat Boy.”

He chuckled and left as fast as he came in. 

The moment he reached outside he went to the skies. He was elated that he was one step closer to getting his partner back. He flew for so long that he lost track of time and had to be issued back by Rhys, who of course, had a short mission to send him on. 

…

By the time it reaches 6 o'clock, you are already ready for his arrival. But little did you know that you would be waiting for a very, very long time.

Taglist: @psychobookaholic @sydneyhasdepression33 @feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @marina468 @mis-lil-red

[floriansfurryfantasies]

Between Bramble & Briar. Gone Awry.

AUTHOR NOTE: I've tried to keep this first Florian piece SFW, but it is suggestive in parts.

TW: for mentions of violence, profanity, drug use, public sexual antics and possibly inappropriate sexual yearnings due to an age/maturity gap.

WORD COUNT: 1835

TAG LIST: @caxycreations

(If you'd like to be added to the tag list, please let me know.)

There was never any doubt that a work's night out on the town would get messy; Florian just hadn't anticipated finding himself in this sort of mess...

It'd been a month since 'Florian Voltaire' had hired a new floor manager to run his under-the-hedgerow, gothic nightclub, The Sanctuary. 

Rowena Moore, a fiery but comely vixen and a once faithful friend, surprised everyone when one shift, she dramatically quit. In a violent outburst, she threw away eight years of service all because Florian refused to hire an underage and underqualified relative of hers to help work the bar. She'd claimed to need the favour because the pup was down on his luck after dropping out of school. That aside, it wouldn't have been professional. It would have threatened his license, and so, of course, the answer was no. 

In the back office, the Berry Lounge, where Florian resided most evenings, an argument had ensued. Many venomous words were spewed as their egos did battle. Ro's muzzle twitched into a snarl until, finally, she fully bared her canines. Her tail bristled and hackles raised when she called Florian a two-faced cunt. The crass word he could deal with, but being called two-faced, well, that left a foul taste in his mouth. The consequential scuffle left both sporting wounds before the doormen—Badger twins, Jasper and Jed Sommers—escorted her from the premises.

Thankfully, everything had been running smoothly with the new manager, Gunnar, at the helm. The Gyrfalcon had quite literally swooped in and saved the day, becoming a fitting guardian for The Sanctuary with his angelic white speckled plumage and ever-watchful eyes.

Now that the air of angst had settled, it felt like the right time to thank the staff. They'd flawlessly handled the transition and maintained their decorum throughout, which pleased Florian to no end. He respected anyone who could keep their emotions in check and separate work and home life. An all-expenses-paid outing was on the cards.

Rowena's exit was mightily uncouth. It'd forced Florian to take on a hands-on role, managing his own club in the interim period, which wasn't his strong suit. 

The untimely passing of his father had him come into a grandiose sum of money. It paved the way for his dream of owning an establishment. Though, he hadn't the hubris to assume he could manage such a place himself. Rowena, who'd been the bar manager at the lounge where Florian used to entertain, had been his saving grace. Once The Sanctuary had established itself, he had poached her talent from right under the nose of his ex-boss and brought his cunning vulpine soul-sister on board as the head of his team. He couldn't think of anyone more capable and trustworthy for the job. Now, he'd lost both a reliable employee and friend, and although he'd gotten over the initial blow he was more than glad of the opportunity to let off some steam. 

Someone had suggested they start the evening off with a meal; that's how they'd ended up hogging a table for twelve at 'Alder Lae's'; their pumpkin cobbler was to die for! Then, at almost eight PM, the bunch proceeded to The Sylva Sacer Inn for the first couple of rounds. Once the drink had taken effect, the desire for dancing led them to a retro nightclub called 'Moonbeams'. Their three floors played music from decades gone by, and the second was dedicated to tracks from Florian's youth, so it was naturally his favourite. 

The evening took a turn south just past midnight. Music blasted, filling his ears, and his body was lost in the sea of souls undulating to the beat. The club was heaving and wasn't turning out yet. The doormen were still allowing people in! It was who they let in that opened Pandora's box…

While dancing on the first floor, Florian found himself entangled with one of The Santuary's part-time dancers. Her name he couldn't recall. Maya? Mia, perhaps? All he knew was the buxom tabby's tail had been coiled about his thigh for the last two songs and was inching higher and higher by the bar, closer and closer to fondling his nethers through his trousers. Next to them, The Sanctuary staff's resident otter couple had started to get handsy, like on the wave; the music had moved them to hold hands—interlinking their bodies so they couldn't be parted.

Meanwhile, Mina?—the impassioned pussycat had looped her arms around Florian's neck, giggling, whispering, wondering if anyone thought they might be a couple too. She was drunk and made it no secret that she wanted a taste of the dashing and handsome ferret, but alas, she was mistaken in hoping Florian would be taking her home. 

Despite how attractive her sleek feline form was, it only whet his appetite for the big cat he truly craved. Somehow, her silky smooth fur didn't quite ignite him the same way combing his paws through Marek's tufty collar did. Her tongue wasn't quite rough enough to sufficiently groom him and cause his skin to prickle as it was brushed against the grain. And her tail, although teasing, wasn't muscular enough to manoeuvre him on a whim, as the lynx' did whenever he wanted Florian closer or his thighs spread wider. 

Marek Ambroz was the sum of Florian Voltaire's desire. The mere thought of Marek—his body, dominant and both unyielding in its resistance but surprisingly pliable in its application to any erotic position, his touch that could be both commanding and tender, and oh, his velvety pur combined with his exotic accent, set Florian's loins ablaze with want. 

But he was forbidden fruit. Adopted son a Crime Lord. A Damnatus. An outlaw. An alpine foreigner. And most of all, Mated. 

Yet, none of this mattered. It only bolstered Florian's persuasion. He just couldn't quit Marek, and Marek couldn't quit Florian. The lynx had promised him some of his precious time later that evening, and Florian had pathetically hung his hopes on the rendezvous to garnish his evening.

The slow-dance tracks beat gave way to something with a little more tempo, and suddenly, the tabby's sensual grooming of his exposed neck and purring felt entirely misplaced and awkward. Although with Marek on mind, he was throbbing, impatient for release, and bulged in the confines of his trousers—which was likely the reason the tabby thought she was onto a sure thing. Still, Florian bristled when he came to. When a dainty pink paw waved in his direction, and he locked eyes with little Lillian Blackthorn, he couldn't get rid of his cat infestation fast enough.

What was she doing in a place like this? 

Was it the unsolicited attention or who he'd spied entering the club amidst a gaggle of giggling girls? He was entirely sure. 

When "May" felt Florian shed her body from his like he was on fire, she yowled, stung by the rejection.

"Uh, Mary… I've got to go. I'll catch you later," he lied and fled through the crowd.

"What?! Where are you—" She hissed. "And its Maria you ass—" 

Florian looked back with a weak, apologetic smile and shrugged, at a loss as to why he should care about getting a stranger's name wrong. 

Bounding the stairs to the second floor, he took two per stride. Florian's burgundy eyes lit up like rubies under the strobe lights as he scoped the vicinity for a familiar face and a pair of distinctive satellite-dish ears adorned in jewellery. 

There—cosied up in a booth—he found who he was looking for: Vincent Blackthorn. Best friend, school pal and The Sanctuary's barman. Although he and his booth companion were relatively well hidden in their secluded and shadowed spot, as Florian approached, he quickly realised their antics were scandalously voyeuristic, even for a nightclub. Not to mention the several coloured pipets littering the table's surface. Florian recognised the crimson colour of one pipet to be that belonging to Poppy Syrup and the purple to be a common back-alley aphrodisiac. He didn't 'use' often these days, so he was a little rusty on what some of the other colours signified, but still, to have them on display like that was just sloppy. What if there were undercover Rohguard on Patrol? The offences before his eyes chalked up to more than a night spent in a cage. 

"Oi, Vince!" Florian thwacked the back of his paw off the woodmouse's leatherclad shoulder. 

"Magna Mater!" A dopey-eyed Vince exclaimed, yanking his mouth away from the breast of a disgruntled bunny. "Flora! You scared the whiskers off'a me!" 

"I'd say get a room, but you need to get downstairs. Now."

"Keep y'hair on, s'not booting time yet," Vince grumbled. 

Florian recognised Vince's leporine companion, Primrose, though there wasn't a thing neither prim nor rosey about her. She was Vince's on-and-off girlfriend and bad news. He caught a glimpse of what she kept under her tail as she hopped off Vince's lap. That, and how he slipped himself back into his jeans, confirmed they hadn't just been "kissing." Snatching his eyes away wasn't enough to erase that image from his mind. A sneer wrinkled his muzzle, but luckily, Vince was too doped up to notice and take umbridge as he dragged himself out of the booth.

"What's all the fuss for, anyway?" 

"Lillie is downstairs."

"So?"

"So… She's your baby sister?" 

"Flora, she's twenty." 

"What?" Florian's brows shot up, flummoxed, he scratched the back of his left ear. It seemed like only yesterday, little Lillie Blackthrone was a pup in pink bow pigtails and frilly frocks, mewling to her mother that she wasn't allowed to "play" with him and Vince. 

"Yeah, it was her birthday a couple of months ago," Vince said matter-of-factly, but then his nose twitched. "Actually, she mentioned, you sent her a card." 

"I always send her a card…" Florian replied nonchalantly. "But you should go tell her to go home."

"Why?"

"She came in on the arm of some dingy-looking backwater polecat." 

"Pft, says the ferret." Vince flicked the ruffled lapels of Florian's shirt, scoffing. "You go tell'er off if y'care s'much." 

"You're her brother."

"Yeah, and you're her—"

"—her absolutely nothing," Florian interjected, "Still, she shouldn't be here."

"Fuckin'ell, calm down. What're y'so worked up for? Is it 'cause she might see what kind of bloke you really ar—"

"Hi, Artie. Hi Vin." The sweet voice of little Lillie Blackthrone cut the music like a needle lifted from the vinyl mid-track, and all the hairs down Florian's neck to his tail stood to attention…

…And now, some three hours later, he still couldn't calm down. Not as the long leather overcoat he'd laid over her sleeping body slipped off down her back, and certainly not as her rosy lips met his in the sweetest and gentlest of kisses. 

"Take me home, Artie. I think it's time for bed," Lillie whispered sleepily, rubbing and smudging the makeup around her eyes. Then, snuggled back down under his coat on the couch of the Berry Lounge. 

[oeldeservesthenorris]

“My best years are behind me.” Erik Johnson knows what he is at this point of his career. But the Flyers will need him -- and fellow veteran Marc Staal -- if they are going to get into the playoffs.

NOT ENOUGH CRYING EMOJIS FOR THIS ARTICLE

TAMPA, Fla. — If nothing else, Erik Johnson is self-aware. The newly acquired Philadelphia Flyers defenseman, after morning skate at Amalie Arena on Saturday, admitted he hasn’t had the greatest season as part of a disappointing Buffalo Sabres squad. And, even though his getting dealt offers him a fresh start with a new club, the 35-year-old is not suddenly going to turn the clock back a decade.

“It was really tough being 13 years in Colorado and then coming to a new team. I don’t think I really played my best hockey,” said Johnson, who signed a one-year contract with the Sabres in the offseason after spending the majority of his career with the Avalanche.

“My best years are behind me.”

The Flyers know that too, of course. Their acquisition of Johnson on Friday just before the NHL trade deadline, though, serves two purposes: It provides immediate help for what is both an inexperienced and banged-up blue line, and potentially enhances the team culture that both coach John Tortorella and general manager Danny Briere have labeled as the foundation of their rebuild.

His first game was one to forget, as the Flyers were run out of the building 7-0 by the Tampa Bay Lightning in a game that will primarily be remembered for Tortorella’s ejection midway through the first period and his refusal to leave the bench right away.

And the game was abnormal even before it started. The Flyers were forced to dress just five defensemen after Egor Zamula came down with an illness and Adam Ginning, reassigned to the AHL on Friday, was unable to make it back from the Philadelphia area in time due to weather-related flight delays, according to a team source.

In other words, it’s probably not all that advisable to form any broad conclusions from that game about how Johnson will or won’t contribute down the stretch. He was on the ice for Nick Paul’s power-play goal that made it 2-0 and maybe could have been harder around the net. He was also a bit flat-footed on Conor Sheary’s wrist shot from the high slot that made it 3-0, but Flyers goalie Samuel Ersson could have been better on both of those two scores, as well. He finished with a minus-1 rating in 19:57 of ice time, with two shots on goal and six hits.

And it’s not like anyone else on the Flyers was all that effective on Saturday either, as they got behind 4-0 midway through the first period.

“We’re usually a pretty decisive team,” assistant coach Brad Shaw, filling in for Tortorella, said after the game. “We’re usually setting the tone and playing a specific game and I thought we let them get to their game really quickly. …  Just never seemed to get our footing.”

The Flyers are fortunate in that they’ll have a chance to quickly put the brutal loss behind them when they host the league’s second-worst team, the San Jose Sharks, on Tuesday. One of the primary reasons they have managed to stay in the playoff race this season is because of their ability to quickly respond to poor efforts.

Still, they’re a bit of a different team now that they’ve lost Sean Walker, with his ability to help break the puck out of their own end and play that fast transition game that’s led to so much of the Flyers’ offense.

Johnson isn’t that type of player, and neither is another veteran who’s being relied on to play big minutes — Marc Staal, who skated in just 17 of the Flyers’ first 51 games and has now been thrust back into nightly duty with Jamie Drysdale, Rasmus Ristolainen and Nick Seeler still all on the shelf.

The Flyers seemed to realize they need to play differently in at least one of their two games after the Walker deal: They put forth an impressive, buttoned-up defensive performance in their 2-1 win in Florida on Thursday with rookies Ginning and Ronnie Attard making their respective season debuts on the blue line.

Part of the reason why they held the high-powered Panthers offense to just one goal was, according to Staal, everyone on the ice playing together as a five-man unit.

“Realizing the position we were in with some new guys coming in. I think our forwards — they always do a great job of being pretty aware defensively and playing as five,” Staal said. “We really focused on that before the game. … Just good structurally to get that one.”

Staal’s ice time has been steadily rising. He skated a season-high 19:10 on Saturday. And although he’s certainly not the fleetest of foot anymore at age 37, he has a positive expected goals percentage of 54.2 according to Natural Stat Trick, and at five-on-five has been on the ice for an even 12 goals for and 12 against.

Getting into a rhythm after being a frequent healthy scratch has helped.

“For sure. It’s definitely tough not playing when you’re used to being in the lineup every night your whole career so that was an adjustment,” he said. “Stayed positive and kept working and obviously getting an opportunity now and we’re playing really important games and it’s exciting for me to be back in and try to help this team win. … I’m starting to feel better on the ice, getting my legs and timing back more where I’m used to.”

When he signed a one-year deal in the offseason, the prevailing notion at the time was that Staal would be a prime candidate to get moved for, say, a mid-round draft pick ahead of the trade deadline. But Staal said on Saturday that it was always his intention to stay with the Flyers for the season, and now part of what has become a close group, he’s thrilled to be sticking around for the playoff chase.

“Been around these guys since September, I’ve definitely grown to enjoy this room and these guys and what we’re doing here,” Staal said. “Leaving really wasn’t a thought I had. You’ve just got to get in, you know? Get in the playoffs and see what happens. You never know.”

Staal knows that well as part of last season’s eighth-seeded Panthers who advanced to the Stanley Cup Final before losing to the Vegas Golden Knights.

The Flyers have to get there first, though. And in order to do that, both Johnson and Staal are going to have to play a role.

“You check your ego at the door, it’s about winning and it’s about building the culture and continuing to go on a big playoff push here,” Johnson said. “What I just told them was I’m here for whatever you need from me, here to be a good teammate, and do whatever I can for the guys.”

[alln64games]

Super Mario 64

JP release: 23rd June 1996

NA release: 29th September 1996

PAL release: 1st March 1997

Developer: Nintendo

Publisher: Nintendo

N64 Magazine Score: 96%

Starting off with a bang, one of the Nintendo 64’s launch titles just happens to be a revolutionary game that’s one of the best games on the system. It didn’t just show the world how platform games could work in 3D, but it set the standard for movement in 3D as well. Despite it’s legendary status, Nintendo have never given us the port that this game deserves. Super Mario 64 doesn’t need a full remake, just a little bit of sprucing, widescreen and an updated camera.

Luckily, fans of the game have done this themselves by fully recreating the game’s engine on PC, with lots of options to set it up the way you want. There’s some much more graphically impressive options than what I chose, but I wanted it to look similar to the original game, with just crisper textures and some of the 2D objects replaced with 3D ones.

The movement of Mario still feels amazing all these years later. His move set is brilliant with all of his moves (minus the special hats) available form the get-go, it’s just a case of learning it and figuring out the best way do move. Most people will start off ding taller jumps by doing the backflip, but then transition to the quick turn jump to get up to the tall platforms. Even now, it’s an absolute joy to control.

The camera from the original game is the main part of the game that now feels clunky. It was pretty amazing when the game came out, but it’s one aspect of games that has improved over time. Luckily, the version I played lets you turn on a more modern analogue camera, which (along with widescreen) is really all Super Mario 64 needs to feel modern.

The levels are small, but it’s a style that really suits the game. They’re packed full of secrets, with six stars to find in each one (plus an extra star for collecting 100 coins). Once you collect a star, you’re thrown out of the level, which does mean you have to re-do parts of levels multiple times, but there are sometimes changed to the level depending on which star you collect. There is a mod that lets you remain in levels, but I feel like this alters the game too much, and is itself fiddly as you need to work out when you need to manually leave the level.

Each level has a very distinct feel to it and I enjoyed every level in the game, with the exception of two of the water levels. While some have generic themes (lava, water and ice), the levels are still built in unique ways, and even matching themes (like the two snow levels) don’t feel like a reuse due to the level design.

Other than a couple of stars that include the wing, metal and invisible caps, you can also complete levels before moving on, or just do a couple of stars and try somewhere else. You only need 70 out of 120 stars to complete the game (far fewer if you choose to do glitches), but it’s enjoyable collecting them all.

To unlock different sections of the castle (and access more levels), you need to complete Bowser’s levels. There are three in total (the last one being to save Peach) and these are much more linear platform challenges, which creates a nice change of pace. At the end of these you have to face off against Bowser, grabbing his tail and spinning him to throw him into bombs, and I’m still absolutely dreadful at aiming my throws.

The final section of the game has some outstanding levels.

Wet-Dry World is the third water level of the game, but this one stands out much more due to the mechanic of raising and lowering the water levels. There are different ways to move upwards depending on the water level, and you’ll need to make use of these to collect all the stars.

Tiny-Huge Island has you using pipes to swap between a giant Mario and a mini Mario. You get to see cute tiny goombas or have to fight ones that are much larger than Mario. It’s not Mario’s size that actually changes, but the level itself. It’s an absolutely adorable level full of joy.

Tick Tock Clock is actually a lot smaller than I remember, but is focused on well timed jumps. The unique aspect of this level is that the level entrance is itself a clockface, and where the minute hand points alters the speed of the objects in the level, or even stops them completely. I have quite strong memories of trying to figure out what was happening when this happened as a kid.

The final main level, Rainbow Ride, is more linear than most levels, with different segments connected via magic carpets. You’ll need to jump off the carpets to avoid obstacles, but if you take too long, the carpets will vanish. This level requires you to have learnt how to master Mario’s moveset.

Super Mario 64 is still an absolute joy to play, especially so with an updated camera. I think a full remake would alter the game too much, as the level design and movement is integral to its identity. It just needs a bit of sprucing up, and I really hope we get an official version that does this at some point.

This was an amazing start for the Nintendo 64. Not only was this game integral to the development of 3D games as a whole, but the gameplay and levels still hold up today. Games keep trying to be bigger and better, but smaller and varies levels are also a great approach.

“The best game ever?” Possibly, but then it’s so far ahead of anything that comparisons seem meaningless.

- Zy Nicholson, N64 Magazine #1

---

Remake or Remaster?

As the fan-made PC version shows, Super Mario 64 still holds up really well and just needs some basic improvements. A remastered Super Mario 64 would be perfect.

Official Ways to get the game

There is no way to buy a new copy of Super Mario 64, the only official way to play is to rent it via the Nintendo Switch Online + Expansion Pak.

Other versions

2004: Super Mario 64 DS. This version featured altered levels, more stars and extra playable characters. The extra content was well received, but forcing previous stars to certain characters was frustrating. The controls also don’t work very well on the DS. The touch screen minigames were a brand new addition and were well liked.

[dear-alex-chill]

An update

Lately I haven't been active and it's spanned much longer than I intended. I originally thought it was the Team Science Zine sucking up all my energy (that zine was awesome but a beast to make) but I now realize that may have been me trying to convince myself of an untrue reality. I've been exhausted all the time with no time for me. I'm also dealing with more personal issues and being in a period of transition uses a lot of spoons. Hopefully I'll resolve some issues through therapy or other means but it's a lot to balance and I don't necessarily have the resources to take on everything. Unfortunately, art and writing has taken a backseat for the time due to everything going on. It is what it is, I hope to create again one day. However, the end of DAC as an account may be nearing.

I know I've been silent/quiet for months. I know I've not finished anything. I have few WIPs but they're limited in development and not something I want to post. Overall the Dear-Alex-Chill account is fading on all fronts and I'm not sure I want it to revive. I know my stuff rarely shows up in places, in part because of the niche I drew myself into, but also a lack of relevancy in what I produce. I honestly haven't touched digital art in a while, I do miss it. However, I'm exhausted constantly or I'm under the perception I'm too busy to do it, carving time is hard right now. I am considering leaving everything up and just sorta orphaning my account, I would never delete my writing and I don't like the prospect of deleting my art, but actively maintaining a social media like that is taxing and not something I can do right now. DAC might turn into an archive of sorts and when I'm ready I'll start anew entirely with a new name and page. Or maybe I'll come back in a while ready to get going again, I'm not sure.

Some of the lack of desire to revive was a slightly toxic culture. When things blew up around me (not really at me though but like Tumblr? Yk) I felt the need to step back and a part of me just never wanted to return. Moots, I love you guys, you're the reason I stayed so long. But sometimes it's hard to want to engage in a community of people that dislike you and that you generally dislike, it's tiresome. Wacky and Sikyu especially, you guys were awesome to talk to (I'm just mentioning you two specifically because I feel really bad for leaving you guys with no context after months of hyper-dumping hcs and ideas. Anyone I've repeatedly dmed or shared my hcs with and talked to, I do miss you all. Everyone is owed an apology but that's a lot of names to write.) It's hard to stay in a place you don't want to be, especially when you feel you're leaving those close to you, but I think it's of my best interest to step away from DT and TtS/RTA.

To my followers, I'm sorry you haven't gotten what you followed for.

To the anons and haters, cool. Have fun with your lives, I believe in karma but don't act on it, it's not my job to enforce karma, that's the universe's job.

To my mutuals/friends, I haven't forgotten you all and I do think about you. It's just hard to reply or I feel bad reaching out after so much silence. Hopefully I'll be chatty again or return to some normalcy later and I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you earlier.

Overall this just serves as a message/wellness check. I'm still here, I still lurk, but I don't really know if I want to stay active. When I decide to either orphan or revive, I'll let you all know in a new post, but for now here's what's been happening. I love y'all.

See ya later.

(yes this was on insta in slides form, Tumblr hates me uploading more than 3 photos at a time)

[incarnateirony]

Every time a conservative yells about giving kids hormones or "lifelong medicalization", my first question is to ask how many women in their life are on BCP, since what age, and how many due to being sexually active vs offsetting individual medical situations of varying severity.

Here's a hint: about all of them, since puberty. And many then struggle with obesity and blood pressure their whole life regardless of choices, activity, or diet.

They really struggle with that one.

(before tumblr tumblrs all over this post, I am not saying to restrain BCP, I'm just pointing out the two faced irony going on here, bc they then turn around and feed their kids BCP without seeing the irony or looking for other alternatives.)

This is a sticking point with me as someone born with intersex attributes that, as normal the system plugged me full of estrogen over, causing--well, lifelong medicalization, obesity, and blood pressure issues while fear mongering my 13 year old ass insisting I'd want a chance to be breedable, essentially, even when I said that didn't matter, insisting about Later In Life choices. When there were plenty of other options never presented or considered. And, since making educated decisions as an adult, I essentially de-transitioned from my literally assigned gender and immediately began falling into normal weight, normal blood pressure, and generally improved health while now kicking water uphill to get hormone therapy in the opposite direction.

Hormones in one situation to these people are Right And Good, but when it's outside of their understanding it is The Devil.

"It's for medical reasons!!"

oh, fuckin. worm???????????????

No seriously, I literally wonder Who I Would Be if I didn't have 20 years of estrogen shoved up my ass by people who convinced me I needed it, since even without T I already pass as a man now after a few years off of it, just with some floppy deflated parts I'm going to have to eventually get removed, that probably wouldn't be there otherwise.

Literally last week, had a guy bitching at me about his wife thinking he's cheating on her, yelling "I DONT EVEN TALK TO NO WOMEN, DO YOU SEE ME TALKING TO ANY WOMEN??????????" and I'm just like. well, glad i pass. no i'm about as close as it gets guy brb gonna get my groceries [wanders back past half an hour later and this dude been thinking about it half an hour] "be real with me dude are you a dude or a chick" [pulls out id] this is whats confusing you *dude looks between* NAW MAN NAW.

Go to the gas station to buy cigs the other day. Can I see your ID. Scans it. ID is five years old and female, still get Thanks Man. lmfao

[omegaremix]

Captured Tracks, 2022.

What makes Omega WUSB great is how we create tributes as part of what we play on air. They allow us to get to know our favorite labels better and gives our listeners a nicer surprise from our usual spinning-wheel craziness. Most of them we previously featured are from New York City such as Sacred Bones, Hospital Productions, Wharf Cat, and Mexican Summer. Just recently, Captured Tracks joined that list of labels that deserved it. Do a little due diligence (say that three times fast) and you’ll see that Mike Sniper has had his hands in plenty of things. He owns the umbrella Omnian Group, does illustration for other artists, made music as Blank Dogs, and was part of other bands, too. And he’s owned a couple of record stores, too. Sideman Records was up for a couple of years until the y recently closed down, but his other store named after his Captured Tracks label, is still up. That’s good because I’ve been meaning to visit.

After Amityville’s High Fidelity wiped me out like no other (two visits cost me $893.00 in total), I had one more stop I was planning to visit and call it quits. That was Innersleeve Records until I took a better look at their sticker prices posted on social media. Right then and there I declared my island-wide record store victory tour finally over and any city-wide visit to other stores were treated as “bonus rounds”, which two visits to Academy’s Brooklyn and Manhattan locations already counted. Captured Tracks just posted some nice pics- of their stock and I’ve been meaning to go, so let’s give a proper end to a great expensive run.

I arrived at the Central Islip station, sweltering in the low 80’s and as bright as bright can be. The train took off westbound to Penn Station for a 75-minute ride. I told myself it was going to be a great day. When I did, I noticed something somewhat disappointing. Nothing said there was going to be pending thunderstorms for the next few days, but here they come as I looked to my right. Surely enough daylight went dark and it came down hard from Jamaica all the way to Penn Station. I didn’t come above and out to 34th Street to experience it because I went under to catch the ‘E’ line. Everyone waiting for the alphabet lines were baking and drenched in sweat from all the unbearable post-rain humidity filling the platforms beneath. Thank the Lord for air-conditioned transit. I got off at 23rd and Court Square to the ‘G’ and finally came up at the Greenpoint Ave. stop. It was all clear, as if the horrible weather never happened. You wouldn’t even noticed, either.

Down Manhattan Ave., I turn left on Calyer St. and look for #195. Where the hell is it? I look up and there was the wooden Captured Tracks sign nailed above the window. I wouldn’t have realized that I walked past it as it was perfectly blended in the residential buildings. How cute. I walk up the stairs only to be confronted by a closed door and push-button lock. It can’t fucking be. I look below and there was a flight of concrete steps leading to the basement entrance. Immediately I felt an amazing spell, as if I just discovered a well-hidden secret that almost no one knew. I never entered a music-store this way. That’s what made it magical.

I walk through the front door to find not that many people lurking for new finds. There were only three staffers: one behind the counter checking their Discogs store online, another restocking the vinyl bins, and the last sitting behind the desk in the back corner observing Lord knows what. None of them were Mike Sniper. I walk around the narrow space which was mostly nice and neatly organized; a cellar space adorned with chipped paint on the walls, pipes and valves that would make Super Mario and Luigi gladly pay their 100 coins a month each to live in. I reminded myself why I was here in the first place: to see if their selection matches that of what their label offered.

Captured Tracks were the kings of organization. Everything organized by genre, label, and artist name. Sure, they had the standard classic rock, psych-, and metal LPs. But walk around and they had a full selection of jazz, soul, and R&B to start. They carried several bins of classic disco and dance classified right down to the label. Salsoul, Motown, Casablanca - they weren’t handwritten but instead their tabs and dividers were logo’ed. Want classic motion picture soundtracks from the Eighties-on backward? Pre-war jazz and vocals? Reggae and Bollywood? Greek, Israeli, Brazilian, French, Italian, and Latin artists? They specialize what the other stores don’t. Almost nothing where it shouldn’t be.

First order of business was the cassette section nailed right next to the entrance. They had way less on the shelves than they posted and nothing got to me. In the middle of the store were…eight-tracks? Fifteen of them were posted on a board in the middle of the store. That’s all they had. If I had a player, then no doubt I would be even consider spending $30.00 for either Lonnie Liston Smith’s Expansions and Roy Ayers’ Red Black And Green for $35.00. Adjacent to them were a small pot of CDs, maybe no more that a hundred. So what did I say about how hard it was finding Suicide albums? For $7.00 I was able to get Alan Vega’s Mutator. What tasteless muppet who knows nothing about art and culture sold his copy back to the store? Which other labelmate of his was also in the pot? Marissa Nadler, of course. Her latest full-length The Path Of The Clouds cost $12.00, the highest-priced purchase of the day.

No record-store excursion would be complete without getting a crack at some jazz and fusion. Same to be said about what Roy Ayers records they had. Still no A Tear To A Smile, but instead Let’s Do It sitting in which I already had. But, going across I did find plenty familiar artists with albums I never seen before in the wild from Ron Carter, Ramsay Lewis, Jeff Lorber Fusion, Herbie Mann, and Hank Crawford. I had a chance to pick up two Kool & The Gang records: Wild And Peaceful and The Force. I held off because off of Wild And Peaceful there was “Hollywood Swingin’” and “Jungle Boogie”, and I wouldn’t have been happy if the entire record went in that direction. The Force reminded me that I wasn’t familiar with -The Gang aside from those two, “Summer Madness”, and Love And Understanding. Going a little bit to the right to Hubert Laws’ divider and I find found it: How To Beat The High Cost Of Living with Earl Klugh. That was a huge personal win for me. That motion-picture soundtrack was part of last year’s impeccable, memorable, golden Spring.

Captured Tracks had a small section for hip-hop / rap LPs and 12” singles. Nothing piqued my interest as I wouldn’t spent more than a few dollars on a piece of wax with one or two songs. Their selection of those artists jumped around ranging from Eighties mainstays to Nineties unknowns. The only thing I took with me from those bins was Kool Moe Dee’s Knowledge Is King and that was it.

I figured to give the soul bins a shot and I win another Blackbyrds record, a tattered copy of Bootsy Collins Rubber Band, and The Olympic Runners’ Don’t Let Up - one which would sound so familiar if you’re a Planet Asia & Talib Kweli fan.

Across from the front desk were two stations with four bins each of new arrivals with lots of rare, unknown, and obscure jazz, rock, soul, and soundtracks. Of the fifteen minutes it took me to thumb through it all, the only thing I saw of interest was Blank Stare’s self-titled. It may have been their only hardcore / punk title in the entire store Captured Tracks had as they weren’t known to carry much of it. During that time of lurking through their new arrivals did the staff bring up how much of a psychotic asshole Drew Carey was in real life, and speculated if his Hollywood personality was the reason why his then-wife took her own life. Their words, not mine.

But do give them lots of points as possible for having a straight, organized, and in-reach section of 45’s and 7” records (take that, High Fidelity!). I counted at least 50 categorized white boxes labeled with jukebox hits, punk, new-wave, jazz, country, rock, decades, and more. They had more than enough of reggae and soul with new arrivals of 45’s up for grabs as well with dedicated boxes of legendary artists (Elvis) and others divided and categorized. Good thing I’m still thirsty for Eighties’ hits from my Atari childhood and I bought plenty of them. Simple Minds, Janet Jackson, Kim Carnes, Thomspon Twins. No shame here, and neither should anyone feel it when they practice self-care.

Displayed were many top-dollar records on the wall and over the bins. Those carried the heaviest prices. A copy of Fear’s debut clocked in for $30.00 and The Dictators Go Girl Crazy goes for $40.00. Buzzcocks’ In A Different Kitchen and Sex Pistols’ Never Mind The Bullocks were stickered for $45.00. The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead went for $50.00 and their self-titled for $55.00. The 7” records on the wall were just a criminal. $25.00 got you Merzbow & Gore Beyond Necropsy’s Rectal Grinder on blue vinyl. Another blue (transparent) 7” was posted which was KRS-One’s “Sound Of The Police” remix which went for $50.00 ($70.00 on Discogs at the time of posting). Two Pharcyde singles were also pinned to the wall: “Otha Fish” sold for $25.00 while “Passin’ Me By” was asking for $60.00. For a piece of wax? That’s insanity, but Brooklyn’s residents need to pony up that rent money, don’t they?

On the floor were many crates of $3.00 records which never occurred to me to burrow through, and they had tons of shelves of LPs under the bins but were marked ‘not for sale’. Might be for the better. It would’ve eaten up another hour-and-a-half of my time and maybe more of my wallet. On the other side was the usual classic rock every store needs to sell in order to stay in business. The most amusing? All the Eric Clapton records were under the ‘Craptonia’ section. (Either they hate his anti-masking stance or have a thing with loved ones falling to their deaths.) I looked through all I could and something didn’t add up: where were all those indie and post-punk / d.i.y. I was looking forward to find? I didn’t see any. I assumed Captured Tracks would carry that kind of stuff because they have Mac Demarco, Beach Fossils, DIIV, Molly Burch, and Wild Nothing on their label. And they’re from Brooklyn. How could they not have stuff like Yard Act’s debut release, Special Interest, Gong Gong Gong, Guerilla Toss, or anything from Wharf Cat? Which was why I had a field day at Rough Trade (before moving out of Williamsburg) and both of Academy’s locations. But at least they had a Thee Oh Sees record somewhere. That qualifies, right?

I’m about five minutes away from declaring an end to this year’s record-store victory tour. I took my pile of finds to the front counter to be added up. I asked the guy with the blonde hair and glasses if those records marked ‘not for sale’ were really off-limits. He explained that they were Discogs stock for the store and need to keep tabs on their stock, which was fine by me. Pain alleviated. He gave me a couple of titles for free and everything came out to $118.00 including New York State (vampire) tax. Good thing I brought two totes with me because I wasn’t taking any chances having my purchase melt in this 90* July heat. Not happening now, not happening ever. I thanked him for everything, walked upstairs and out on Calyer St. with my stash to a bright, clear, glorious Greenpoint sky.

**********

It’s over. It’s finally over. With me leaving Captured Tracks, the record-store victory tour has come to an official close. I did all that I wanted to do and then more. Almost two months of intensive free-spending without worry and practicing self-care and individualism to the fullest. I was the sun which everything else revolved around - the ventures to Queens and Brooklyn, Easter with my Italian Coney Island family, Roman connections, an ambitious Summer broadcasting season at WUSB, the spirit of Sacred Bones’ 15th Anniversary showcase permanently swirling around me, visits to the retro video arcade down the road from me, seeing friends from the Brentwood era, dinner in Calverton, and a small but all-essential conversation with my #1 favorite ginger. I’ve been spinning up some good spaces on the wheel with no signs of losing.

While walking up to Manhattan Ave. to catch the ‘G’ line, I noticed that a curious point of interest had its doors open. That place was Sunshine Laundromat, a locale I’ve read all about but been meaning to visit for the longest time. It’s an actual laundromat with a concealed backdoor that opens up to reveal a backroom pinball arcade. I never noticed it being there until now but finally I found it! It was only 5:45PM and I had all the time in the world to spare. So why not go in? I have nothing to lose.

I enter the laundromat and I slowly look around. It’s a very narrow space to maneuver around with only two or three pinball tables present and a wall of built-in washing machines and dryers. I notice a lady in the back sorting out a mound of clothes. Behind her is that door that leads to (multiball) paradise. I peer right behind her as she looks up and notices me.

“Hi! How can I help you?” she greets me with a smile. I told her that with genuine interest that I read about the laundromat and asked her if the backroom is open. She told me that they’re under renovations but also are awaiting to have their permit approved by the city. She also said that most likely if all goes to plan, then the arcade will re-open for business in a few weeks. It was alleviating news that made me feel good on the inside and made me walk out a more hopeful being.

It was a mood experiencing two crowded subway cars sharing cramped space with everyone imaginable. It wasn’t an eternal wait for the Central Islip line to arrive which the big ride out east was symbolic in itself. Not many people boarded the car I was riding. I sat facing away in the opposite direction. The 7PM sun in its intense beaming yellow glory was all alone in the sky with no clouds or miserable humidity to share it with. Both The Offset: Spectacles followed by Daniel Johnston’s “In A Lifetime” play along with the air conditioner’s cold snap on the way home as I think about what August and September will have in store for me.

The wheel landed on ‘DOUBLE YOUR MONEY’. I told myself it was going to be a great day. And I was right.

Jon Lucien: Premonition LP

Ron Carter: Peg Leg LP

Ramsey Lewis: Love Notes LP

Hubert Laws & Earl Klugh: How To Beat The High Cost Of Living LP

Weather Report: Tale Spinnin’ LP

Olympic Runners: Don’t Let Up LP

Bootsy’s Rubber Band: Stretchin’ It Out In… LP

Jeff Lorber Fusion, The: self-titled LP

Blackbyrds: Unfinished Business LP

Herbie Mann: Sunbelt LP

Hank Crawford: Cajun Sunrise LP

Kool Moe Dee: Knowledge Is King LP

Blank Stare: self-titled LP

Police, The: “Every Breath You Take” 7”

Simple Minds: “Don’t You Forget About Me” 7”

Bangles, The: “In Your Room” 7”

Thompson Twins: “Hold Me Now” 7”

Janet Jackson: “Let’s Wait A While” 7”

Kim Carnes: “Bette Davis Eyes” b/w “Miss You Tonight” 7”

Alan Vega: Mutator CD

Marissa Nadler: The Path Of The Clouds CD

[neverregretthyfall]

AcTUM's Les Misérables

A few days I made a post about our local university adapting Les Mis for stage. Yesterday I went to watch the premiere and I really enjoyed it! It was super good and very engaging, the actors were fantastic and you could feel that they definitely read the brick as well. Unfortunately the pacing moved very fast and I think those not familiar with Les Mis might have gotten a little bit lost on occasion. All in all, I can definitely recommend going to the other two performances (June 17th and 18th) if you want to experience it for yourself.

Check out their website or their Instagram for more information (all in German).

Below you will find extensive notes on the stage play, keep reading if you’re curious ….

Technicalities: Modern AU, unspecified locations (just capitol city, smalltown, etc.), duration 2.5h (incl. intermission). The main message of the play was acceptance, tolerance and to show kindness to others.

(I will not rehash every plot-related detail that remains unchanged from the book, because otherwise this would get thrice as long)

‘Montreuil-sur-Mer’ (the smalltown) arc

We opened on JVJ being the mayor. He is the boss of a soup kitchen and to ease us into the story he talks to a new worker about his past. Unfortunately I cannot remember now if he really opened up about his own experiences or if he claims this happened to ‘a friend’.

Fantine is a recovering drug and alcohol addict and now works at JVJ’s soup kitchen. Due to her addiction she was forced by the court to give up Cosette into foster care (to the Thénardiers).

A letter sent to her by the court reveals her past to the colleagues and forewoman and Fantine is subsequently fired.

As she is now out of a job she turns to do illegal sex-work; they used some real cool shadow-play to show that, really enjoyed that part!

During this time she gets sick and is then caught by Javert, who wants to send her to jail for illegal prostitution. Fantine really panics then because she fears with a prison-sentence the court will never allow her to see Cosette ever again (!!)

The Arras plot is condensed to JVJ monologuing at the hospital with Javert overhearing him. While trying to arrest him, Fantine grabs a vase and knocks Javert unconscious (heck yeah, go Fantine!!). She then passes away from a combination of exhaustion and illness (one of the occasions that probably left non-fans super confused lol)

JVJ takes Fantine’s scarf as a memento and disappears …

Transition of dead Fantine rising and singing a song (aria) to Cosette (it was beautiful and very touching, I was super close to crying)

After getting Cosette from the Thénardiers, JVJ gives her Fantine’s scarf <3

‘Paris’ (the capitol city) arc

In true Marie (aka our Marius) and Cosette fashion they just stared at each other in the park, to shy to talk but really wanting to. Cosette then got called away by JVJ and accidentally left the scarf on the bench. Marie took it and vowed to find her again.

Marie studies law (as expected) and is an orphan (which she revealed super late).

Éponine is crushing hard on Marie, even reading a law book to impress her <3

Gavroche was super cool, he sang, made jokes, got the best one-liners and dabbed lol.

They included all of Thénardier’s aliases and he discovered the advantages of doing the ‘grandparent scam’ lmao.

Amis are introduced by running through the auditorium protesting, whistling, etc.

They are primarily fighting for queer rights (!!!)

Amis Count: 6/9

Named: Enjolras, Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Joly

Unnamed: one of the actresses said something very Combeferre-vibe-y, so I just decided that’s her then, lol; the other one I have absolutely no clue, Marie said to her at the barricade that she still owed her some money, which would make me think it’s Courfeyrac but he was played by somebody else, so alas, it shall remain a mystery ….

We got the ‘You don’t believe in anything / I believe in you exchange’.

Grantaire’s red waist coat was replaced by a huge-ass Enjolras-inspired tattoo on his chest, which was absolutely fantastic.

Making Marisette queer really improved the story, and especially Marie’s arc. Now Marie had a concrete reason for joining the Amis at the barricade (fighting for her rights).

We got super close to Cosette actually joining the fight, but in the end she didn’t unfortunately …

Lamarque’s funeral got replaced by a demonstration for queer rights, as expected the demo turns violent due to police brutality.

The Amis sang both a protest song and later – during the barricade fight – a drinking song (very DYHTPS and Drink with Me vibes)

Joly got very bad stomach ache when the fighting started but obviously he would never abandon his friends :')

When Javert got revealed as a spy, Enjolras threatened to shoot him and you could see how badly her hands shook (possibly an easter egg to ‘He could be your brother / He is’ ?)

Amis fought back bravely against heavy armoured police but alas, they did not make it this time either, rip …

permets-tu was fully included, long live the republic and handholding inclusive (!!)

Javert died via gun to the head.

The ending was super hopeful, during the four months Marie recovered in the hospital, queer rights improved and the biggest surprise of it all: JVJ survived!!

End Quote (paraphrased because I cannot remember the exact wording and I also have to translate it to English): “Freedom is a right but it's also a privilege that was bought with the courage of others!”

Various notes on appearances:

Thénardier looked straight outta the 70s (sans hair), fantastic outfit, 10/10

Enjolras wore a lime-green pantsuit and she looked absolutely excellent

The Amis had different coloured fabrics across their wrists, which I am pretty sure combined to the rainbow flag

Joly wore make-up and nail polish

unknown person at the demo: incredible hippie-look, also 10/10

Éponine had her hair up in some super cute buns decorated with violet ribbons <3

Gavroche gave hipster child vibes

Marie wore chic pants and top (she looked both elegant and laissez-faire)

Cosette wore a black pencil skirt, combined with a violet top and the pink scarf

Javert wore a very nice long black coat and a fedora

JVJ blending in with the rest and wearing a simple sweater/shirt combination

Courfeyrac wore simple slacks and a patterend shirt-top

Grantaire had a very revealing thin shirt/blouse thing going on combined with an orange/red scarf

Well, that's it! Thank you for reading up until this point. If you get the chance, please go watch this stageplay or check out their other works <3

[cathkaesque]

do you thing the UK should be divided in a hypothetical scenario of a communist revolution? should just northern Ireland be given back? what if Ireland is still capitalist? what about all the overseas territories?

I guess the answer to this is contextual. A seizure of power by forces with any kind of socialist bent (either by election or by a coup) would have to deal with an immediate collapse of the British economy in the form of a collapse in the value of government bonds (which underpin the resolution to the 2008 crisis, discussed here). This will be accompanied by the inability of the state to continue borrowing money, a collapse in the stock and property market bubbles, a 'credit crunch' as banks and pension funds no longer have the ability to continue lending, closure of most British businesses, accompanying collapses in the value of the currency and gross domestic products, and with it Britain's ability to continue importing essential items like food, medicines, textiles, inputs into domestic industries, computers and other consumer essentials (never mind luxuries). This will either be the context in which a socialist movement comes to power or the response of investors to a socialist government that actually has the guts to break with international financial institutions.

We had a sneak preview of this with the Truss government and I do think it's the UK's long term trajectory. Currently the UK is resolving this through extreme austerity measures, keeping the value of bonds high by feeding more and more of the country's social and industrial infrastructure to the financial system, but government borrowing costs are currently as high as they were at the height of the Truss government. I think Britain's slow motion financial collapse is inevitable - the question is how much of society is fed to that financial system before it dies. We are essentially faced with a choice between ending consumerism and financialisation and transitioning to an economy that can meet immediate needs for healthcare, education, housing, food, and little else, or the slow motion collapse of society and the environment while the joys of a consumerist standard of living become restricted to an ever shrinking slice of the world's population.

The socialist movement's task will be to ensure a society which is used to being able to live balanced on the top of the financial and global value chain system can still reproduce itself in the context of the disintegration of that system. To survive this period, the state will have to seize control of banking and investment and direct economic activity towards the immediate needs of the population. It will also have to manage a massive global population transfer from the South to the North due to the effects of climate change.

To achieve this, it's essential that the popular insurrections that are going to break out during this period (moments like the Estallido in Chile for instance, what's happening in France etc) are able turn themselves into political forces capable of carrying out this programme, and support each other in taking these steps as well. The class basis of these forces will probably be the 'marginalised' of the system - people in deindustrialised areas in the north, inner city populations, and the (frequently migrant) workforces in the domestic industrial system. These populations are often in conflict with one another (see how Brexit pitted the deindustrialised Northerners vs the migrant workers, culture wars around race etc) but I do think that's got to be the bedrock of any coalition.

I think people who want Scottish and Welsh independence and Irish Unification and anti-colonialists are going to be a part of a successful coalition strong enough to remove the current government from power. The direction politics is going in at the parliamentary level is also towards a consensus between the two main Westminster parties in favour of hard right toryism, and alternative policie only really get a hearing in places like the Scottish parliament at the moment. The current system is based on a very centralised economy and state, and breaking that power up and distributing it to local populations is very important. I think creating localised directly democratic structure to manage community welfare provision (I'm particularly inspired by the communal council system in Venezuela here) and devolving powers to local governments is an essential part of the whole process. Indepedence should be granted to all overseas territories.

When it comes to Northern Ireland I think it's always been a case of 32 county socialist republic. The Irish state as it stand is descended from the Irish Free State and the partition settlement of the Irish civil war. The Irish state has played a role in amelirioating republicanism in the North partly because it was in large part a revolutionary working class movement that would have implications for the social structure in the South. Sinn Fein have been pretty much integrated into Stormont now, and is also a pretty social democratic force in the South as well.

The other side of it is the role that Ulster unionism has played in connection to British fascism, Ulster unionists supplied fascists organisations with guns in the 1990s. Any socialist revolution will have to confront a whole host of reactionary forces. This will include fascist forces like the unionists, but also a ruined managerial and landlord class whose wealth is derived from their control over people and property, and the military establishment as well. It's not so much a question of the 99% vs the 1%, but the 60% vs the 40%, and in an imperialist country like Britain I'm not even sure we're the 60% in that.

Anyway that's a lot of Marxist gibberish that doesn't even really answer the original question - hope something useful is in there! Thanks so much!