#not an accusation just something that jumped out at me w the phrasing is all.

[littlekingbergara]

ngl fuck watcher, shane married a jew and has been awfully quiet about the genocide on Palestine. and since he's ryan's best friend ryan's quiet now too when he was NOT quiet about the blm and stop asian hate movement before.

i'm not gonna sit here and make excuses for them and defend their silence because yeah it is disappointing that they haven't used their platforms to bring more awareness and attention to the ongoing genocide.

ultimately it's your choice whether or not you continue to support them. i don't believe there's some agreed upon silence pact among watcher like you're suggesting. i don't see any of them being the kind of people to ask their friends not to speak on an issue because of what they may or may not personally believe.

[turnaboutinlove]

Hello! How are you? Could I request a Edgeworth ❤️ x Mathematician reader who saves him in that one trial when he is accused of murder?? I know it's a crazy idea but 🤣 Maybe like they're discussing something with numbers and karma calculates wrong so the reader shouts that's wrong and corrects him

Mathematician!Reader saves Edgeworth

i’m doing well, anon! i hope you’re also well, take care of yourself, okay? honestly this is a kinda cute idea hehe, saving edgeworth with numbers! struggled a little with fitting in mathematics, but i hope this will suffice!

“So I summise that the correct answer to my findings, the bullet holes, the ballistic markings, each clearly counted which if you times the numbers, it should lead to a correct answer of 2.568. This points the conclusion that he is guilty, and I am not. Now, I demand a verdict—”

“Objection!” You yelled, standing up from your seat and pointing your finger at von Karma. Finally, you thought, a crack in his perfect composure. “You’re wrong. You claimed that 2.568 is the answer to your basic mathmatics, however, the correct answer is 1.348, making it impossible— the timings and ballistics are wrong all because of you, von Karma.”

“W-What? Preposterous, what would and insignificant child know about guns and numbers?” von Karma had quickly gained his composure, but you could see him trembling. Besides, did he seriously call you a child? Perhaps his perfect facade was breaking.

Edgeworth gave you an uneasy glance from his seat, though you ignored him, continuing to pursue defeating Von Karma, “With all due respect, Von Karma, I’m a mathematician — someone who works with numbers. I know my stuff, and you don’t.”

“P-Pah! Judge! This insignificant fool is interrupting the trial, have them removed.”

The Judge shook his head (to your surprise — you thought Von Karma would have a freater influence on him), “I cannot do that, Mr. von Karma, since the mathematician raises a fair point.”

“Y-Yes!” Phoenix jumped to grab this moment, giving you a smile as a sign of thanks for your findings, to which you smiled back at, “(Name) is right! Not that I would know much about maths, but they’re a professional!”

“I’ve run many calculations to double check my findings, I have the proof here,” You brought up a sheet of paper with an array of numbers scribbled upon it, “So I’m confident that my answer is correct, therefore proving the innocence of Edgeworth! Besides, I had a few suspicions about the bullets in this case…”

“I… This isn’t…” von Karma stuttered, eyes widened with horror as he clutched his shoulder.

“Therefore, von Karma, this is the final piece of evidence that PROVES you are guilty! Thanks to the other bullet, and the photograph, we have now found the truth!” You yelled, pointing at him dramatically once more.

von Karma let out an ear piercing scream, one that had lasted for a few moments, before admitting to his guilt. You had finally gotten him, you thought, releasing the tension you had in the form of a sigh.

You weren’t paying much attention to the rest of the trial, exhausted and ecstatic that you had proved Edgeworth’s innocence. However, you paid enough attention to hear the “Not Guilty” verdict and the hitting of a gavel to signify the end of the trial.

You were standing around in the defendant’s lobby, waiting to thank Phoenix for his work and to find Edgeworth. You hadn’t expected him to come up to you, you were a little surprised that he noticed you first, and not the other way round.

“(Name)… I’m indebted to you. If you hadn’t proved von Karma’s findings wrong, I would not have found the truth.” He spoke, bowing his head (you weren’t sure if it was in shame or something else), “I… I’m unsure how to phrase this.”

“No, no need to thank me,” Despite not stating the explicit words ‘thank you’, you had gotten the notion that he was thanking you, “I was just pointing out the contradiction in von Karma’s statement. Besides, I knew you were truly innocent, I believed you were and I sought to prove it.”

You could barely see a faint flush on his face, though he tried to hide it by looking away from you, “I.. I… I would like show my gratitude by treating you to a meal,” He stammered, you could see his face grow a little redder, “I-It is only proper to thank you this way, correct?”

A quiet laugh escaped from your lips, and Edgeworth gave you a preposterous look, “Of course, Mr. Edgeworth, we can go out for a meal.”

“R-Right, I—”

“Hey, It’s Edgeworth! And (Name)!” Maya called, bumping into both of you, “We won the case!”

Phoenix trailed behind Maya, looking tired from how long the trial was, “Yeah, thanks to you, (Name). Honestly… who knew that von Karma wasn’t… great at math…?”

“It might be that he purposefully spoke the wrong answers to gain an advantage,” Edgeworth replied, looking away.

“I’m glad we solved the case anyhow,” You smiled, patting Edgeworth on the back. He responded by stiffening up, probably because he wasn’t used to physical contact. “Let’s celebrate sometime, this was a long case.”

“Dinner’s on me, pal!” Gumshoe burst through the defendant lobby doors, cheerfully grinning. “E-Even if my salary got cut… this is a cause for celebration. Whoooooop!”

“Hey, looks like the whole dinner thing is sorted. Since Gumshoe is paying, you don’t have to take me out somewhere!” You nudged Edgeworth, though he shook his head at you.

“N-No, I insist that I pay for a meal, b-because we… I mean, I would still feel indebted to you.” He reasoned, “But… dinner, us… a-alone.”

Oh. How surprising, you thought, you hadn’t expected him to ask you out, though you weren’t sure if it was truly him asking you out. The implication was there, however, so you decided it was probably that (though you hadn’t expected him to be bold, if you could call his stuttering bold). In a way, it was charming, though you didn’t say a thing.

“Alright, alright. But first — we gotta celebrate with the others, okay?” He nodded, still looking away from you bashfully, gripping his other arm with his hand. You held out a hand for him, which he awkwardly accepted, to lead him out of the lobby and to the others.

“T-Thank you, again,” He said, the tiniest of smiles appearing on his face, “Truly. You’re an amazing mathematician… an amazing person overall.”

[forever-rogue]

Hey there, could I please have #2 from your prompt. With it being Din's first, maybe having to either blindfold or blackout the room with the reader? Please and thank you!

2. Kiss

This prompt has me all kinds of soft and gentle and I love one Man(dalorian) so much!

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A huff escaped your lips as you stared at the metal ceiling of the Crest. It was almost pitch black, with only a bit of light filtering in from the small crack in your door signaling that Din too was still awake as well.

Grabbing the scratchy blanket, you pulled it tighter around your body, wishing the chill would go away, but it was pervasive. No matter where you were on the ship or how many layers you wore or blankets you dragged into your small bed, you always felt cold. Rolling onto your side, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing your mind to settle and calm, finally letting you get some sleep. It had been...days since you’d had a good night’s sleep. Your body was desperate for it, and you were sure your mind wasn’t far behind.

But it never seemed to come; instead you spent countless hours lying in the dark staring into the blackness as you tried anything to sleep. To be fair, a lot had been on your mind lately, things you weren’t really sure how to address or even bring up in conversation without worrying about scaring Din off.

Instead you remained quiet, making up all sorts of scenarios in your mind of how the conversation could possibly go. Meanwhile in your waking hours...well your day to day hours, you’d been quiet, retreating more within yourself than you ever had. You didn’t think it was that obvious, prepared to use the guise of giving Din his space and not wanting to interfere with the Bounty Hunter’s work.

But it was fruitless. Din had just been as restless, often pacing around the hull of the Crest for hours after he thought you were fast asleep. There were at least a hundred things he wanted to say, and however he phrased them, he was sure they would scare you off. So he paced - and paced - and paced - and...

Wanting to tear your hair out, you almost jumped out of your small, hard bed and went to the small wardrobe you pulling out another sweater, one of Din’s hand-me-downs that still smelled like him despite having been washing numerous times and threw it on. If you were going to be awake, you might as well make use out of time or find something enjoyable to do.

Poking your head out of the door, you looked around and found the coast clear. Not that you were pointedly trying to avoid Din, you just didn’t need him to worry or fuss over anything. When it came to you and the green bean he was decidedly protective, sometimes almost too much so. But you didn’t mind, not really anyway; it was nice to know that someone was looking out for you.

Sighing lightly, you wished you could go and grab the little one and take him with you. But luckily, unlike his adopted father and yourself, sleep came easily to him. It was almost too much to watch him grow from an excited little blur to practically falling asleep as you held him in your arms. You were going to miss him so damn much when it came to actually giving him back to his people, whether that was the Jedi or more of his own species. But you weren’t going to think about that, not yet anyway. Instead you were going to focus on making every day with him count as much as possible.

And Din.

Once the little one was gone, there would be no use for you either. And then you’d part ways and...something. You hadn’t thought that far ahead. You’d just sort of...been going along with whatever life seemed throw in your way. You supposed you could go back to Sorgan or even Nevarro now that it was safe...maybe you could even link back up with Cobb Vanth and find something to do in Mos Pelgo. Whatever you would be forced to do, it would work out. You’d make friends in many places now, one of them would be able to help somehow.

Pulling yourself back into reality, you slowly, and as quietly as you could, lowered the ramp to the Crest and hopped out, almost stumbled over our own feet as you landed on the soft, grassy floor. You were smack in the middle of the forest, finding it a majestic place untouched by the hustle and bustle of the nearby city. It was calm here, peaceful - nothing but the soft chirping of insects and cooing of sleeping birds meeting your ears.

The sky was clear here, beautiful and giving you access to the millions of glittering stars that light pollution normally absorbed. Humming under your breath, you walked a few paces away from the ship, eventually finding a small log to sit on. You let a long, world weary sigh as you plopped your tired bones down.

You leaned back slightly looked up, naming as many stars as you could, picking out all the constellations that you were father had taught you about as a small child. But even that, so tranquil and all consuming, lost its fun after a little while.

Before you knew it, a few tears ran down your cheeks. You weren’t even sure when you had started crying, or when your thoughts had turned back to the Mandalorian and your son. But like all things in life, it all seemed to come back to them.

Sniffling quietly, you dabbed at your eyes, wishing that you would pull yourself together and get over it. You had to be strong, if not for them for yourself. But kriff. It was hard and there so many things you had left to say and if you didn’t you were positive you would -

“Mesh’la?” your heart jumped at the sound of Din’s voice. You had been so lost in your head you hadn’t hear him approach or anything. Swallowing thickly, you turned around to face him, offering him a small smile before turning away from that swearing gaze, “what are you doing out here? I thought I heard you leave.”

“Nothing,” it was neither the truth or a lie but it would suffice. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as he came over and sat down next to you, where you’d automatically made a spot for him, “couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re crying,” it wasn’t a question so much as a statement as he watched you closely, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing Din,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as you played with your hands in your lap, “just tired is all. Haven’t been able to sleep much lately and I think it’s getting to me.”

“Oh,” he said softly as you nodded. it was silent for a few beats as a sort of awkward tension hung between the two of you. Clearing his throat quietly, he shifted in his spot so he could turn and face you properly, “w-what’s been going on with you lately? Have I...have I done something?”

“What?” your neck almost snapped as you looked in his direction, giving him a confused expression, “Din, no, it’s nothing like that.”

“You’ve been quietly lately,” he pointed out and you realized you were most definitely not as sly as you thought you were, “you’ve been avoiding me...”

“I haven’t been...” your voice trailed off as you shrugged in defeat, neither confirming nor denying his accusations, “sorry.”

“Will you talk to me?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, “I’m afraid that if I tell you what’s on my mind you’ll want nothing to do with me. And I’d rather just...have you this way than not at all.”

“Please don’t disappear, not again,” he said quietly as he hand slowly, hesitantly, reached for yours. You looked down at his much larger hand, this time not burdened by his leather gloves, but displaying warm, golden skin, “I’ve been...I’ve been wanting to tell you things too.”

“Oh?” you asked as you slowly put your hand closer to his, inch by inch, eventually letting your skin touch his, “what...what did you want to say?”

“I...” he stared at your entwined hands, admiring how small and soft yours looked in his; unmarred and unscarred, pure to the world unlike his which had done horrible things. But yet still, you’d never run from him, never spurned him for his past or judged him. You’d always cared for him with an open heart. You waited with baited breath as his touch sent shivers throughout your whole body, “I’m not always good with words.”

“Me neither,” you admitted with a small laugh, “obviously. But, Din...I...I’ve been thinking about this, all of this...how things are eventually going to change - come to an end. I don’t...I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s my turn to leave you.”

“Who said you were leaving?” he seemed genuinely shocked as the helmet tilted to side and you were positive there was a look of confusion on his face. You looked up at him, opening and closing your a few times as you tried to decide on whether or not he was serious.

“I just...I came to work for you to help take care of the little one...once he’s home, you don’t need me anymore,” you pointed out as thought it was obvious, “I just, I figured I would have to leave too. Without him-”

“No,” he firmly, but gently, cut you off, “no, you’re not - no. it was never supposed to be like that. I thought you knew that...I thought you’d stay, I want you to stay.”

“You do?” your eyes widened as you met the black T of his visor. Tears were threatening to well up and spill over as he nodded lightly, “I didn’t think...me? Why me?”

“I told you I’m not always good with words,” he admitted with a small huff of laughter, “I’ve spoken more words to you in the time I’ve known you than I have probably in the last twenty years.”

“Din...”

“Maybe I can’t put it well into words, but maybe...may I show you?” he asked with a noticeable shake to his voice. You offered him the smallest and most heart melting smile as you nodded, “can you close your eyes?”

“Yes,” your eyebrows shot up for a second before you realized what was going on and you squeezed your eyes shut as tightly as possible. Your heart was beating so wildly, you were sure that he wildly you were positive he could hear it. Once he was sure you couldn’t see anything, he timidly reached up and released the latch for the helmet, pulling it off with a small hiss and setting it next to his feet. Your heart was surely about to burst when you realized that he trusted you with this; he trusted you fully and completely.

“I’ve never...I’ve never done this before,” his voice was small, nervous, as his hands found your face and gently traced over your features. He couldn’t believe was able to finally experience this, the simple act of seeing you with his own eyes, unobstructed by anything else; to touch you in such a gentle manner with his skin on yours. It was heaven; no - better than heaven.

“Din...”

“May I kiss you?” a small smile spread across your features as you gave him a gentle nod, placing your hands on wrists as you rubbed the delicate skin there.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow, almost achingly so at first, the way he barely brushed his lips over yours, in nothing more than a quick, gentle kiss.

But when your face lit up, eyes still closed, his heart melted and he knew he had to do it again. And so he did; each kiss become more heated and confident as he got his first taste of you. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have stopped, never ever. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed to kiss, but now that he first taste he was hooked.

After what seemed like a small eternity, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. Sighing contently you sneaked a few more kisses before you reached up and touched over his features, just as he had done to you.

“You have a mustache,” you almost giggled as you traced over his lips and he made a small sound of amusement.

“Do you not like it?” he questioned, almost immediately wondering if he should get rid of it.

“No,” you admitted and he panicked lightly, “I love it. I bet it suits you perfectly. It tickles a little bit, but I like it.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?”

“Of course,” you beamed at him, “what color are your eyes?”

“Brown.”

“You hair?”

“Brown.”

“I bet you’re magical, Din Djarin,” you whispered, ghosting your lips over his, “maybe...maybe one day I’ll get to see, but until then, I’ll keep all of this in my mind, and my heart.”

“I promise,” he breathed you in gently, committing every bit of this to memory, “I promise one day you will see. But you have to promise me one thing first.”

“Anything.”

“Please don’t leave.”

“Never,” you promised, “never.”

[shinobimagpie]

can I request some kabuto and tayuya kidfic? maybe a little wholesome found family? good ole fluff?

Thank you so much for requesting this Ari I had SO much fun writing our precious babies as precious babies!

Trade Off For @kakashiswilloffire  Characters: Tayuya and Kabuto, ages 7 and 11 respectively Warnings: None, found-family sibling relationship squish. 

“What’re you doing?”

Kabuto jumps as the unexpected voice echoes off the bathroom tile, fumbling the roll of bandages from his stiff fingers for about the dozenth time. He curses as it bounces off the rim of the sink and rolls away along the floor, coming to rest against one of the small dirty sandals in the doorway.

Tayuya squints at him from beneath her messy bangs as she picks it up, frowning, her lips self-consciously pressed closed over her newly lost front teeth.

"What does it look like?” Kabuto huffs in reply, cheeks hot with the embarrassment of being interrupted. The little redhead just scowls harder at him.

“It looks like you need help.” she says snippily, coming fully through the door and letting it close behind her. She clambers first onto the closed lid of the toilet, then from there up to the counter, settling herself down in front of him and grabbing his wrists to pull them toward her - “Lemme see!” - examining his tender palms and fingers with a serious air. 

Kabuto almost snaps at her (He’s eleven! He can bandage himself! He certainly doesn’t need help from a little kid with an attitude problem…) but then Tayuya straightens her back, pins him with her most annoyed look, and parrots his own often-said words back to him.

“So, you want to tell me what you did this time?” she asks, with such a spot on accusing inflection and total seriousness that Kabuto suddenly finds himself struggling not to burst into laughter.

“W-what?” he sputters, trying not to snicker, and his failure to fully smother his amusement is noted by Tayuya, who huffs in irritation that he is not playing along.

“What did you do, Glasses?” she demands again, shaking his arms insistently, and he relents.

“I just overdid it in practice.” he says, elaborating with a smirk when she seems unsatisfied. Although she likes to call his interests creepy he sees the way she leans in with fascination while simultaneously yelling about how gross it all is. "I’m learning how to form chakra blades from Orochimaru-sensei.”

“For surgery stuff you mean?” she asks, like she's  chatting to a schoolmate about a project, picking up his right hand and starting to undo his haphazard wrapping job to be replaced.

"That's right." He says, and Tayuya nods as if she understands on a personal experience level, lining up the bandage with his wrist the way she was taught and beginning to wind it evenly around his arm.

Kabuto can't knock her technique, after all it's his…

"Well, you've done enough for today I think." She scolds - a favourite Orochimaru phrase this time - as she weaves the bandages neatly between his fingers. "You should probably just sit for a while. Read or something."

Kabuto raises a brow, suddenly catching on to why she is here, why she is being so nice...

"Reading huh?"

"Yeah." She nods as she knots the wrap and picks up his other hand. "I have a good book if you don't have one to read."

"What’s it about?" He asks, even though he knows, and she looks at him very seriously as she explains.

"It's about a snake and a frog and a slug that are friends and they sing a friend song."

"Oh that book."

"Yeah." Tayuya glances up at him through her bangs, working very hard at appearing not to care how he responds. "I was gonna read it by myself but you can share with me, if you need a book."

"Would you?"

"Sure!" She ties a neat knot on the back of his hand, then claps hers together like she is dusting them off. And then there it is, the imploring look from those big brown eyes.

"Since I'm sharing and helping you and stuff maybe you'll read it out loud to me?"

Kabuto sighs, looking over his hands one more time.

"Alright sure."

[votederpycausemufins]

Alright, I got the second part of my vaccine, also got tested for the virus by my school (randomly chosen and it just so happened to be the same day as my vaccine appointment), safely met with my family, and then I’m like 50ish% sure I threw my back out? but it’s my upper back and not lower which is why I’m not sure.

So yeah, chapter is a bit short, but I wanted to get one out today.

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel​

Mumbo tried to ignore everyone talking as he worked with Grumbot. He was using the handkerchief he normally kept on him to clean the redstone from his hands to clean up the robot. He had gotten a bit of the water that had been left in Tommy’s inventory to make the cloth damp and started carefully washing everything off Grumbot’s body, though some redstone was left behind. He frowned at how much was coming off onto the cloth and the fact that he needed to clean that off too. 

Slowly but surely, all the grime was washing off and being replaced with shiny metal. There were still dents and cracks, but just cleaning the robot up helped as an improvement. Mumbo dried any spots that were still wet to make sure no water got into Grumbot’s circuits before standing up and stretching, having been in an awkward pose to clean everything up with Grumbot refusing to do anything but stay curled up in a ball.

“How’s he doing?” Phil asked as Mumbo walked over.

“”Well, he’s clean at the very least. I don’t have anything to work on physical repairs and I’m terrified about what I’ll see when checking on the circuitry.” Mumbo looked around at the group. “Techno’s still not here?”

Phil shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything. It’s getting to the point I’m starting to worry. But trying to find him with everything going on won’t be the easiest thing. So we just hope he sends something back on where he is or wait until we can’t wait anymore.”

Mumbo nodded, and then the two of them were surprised as they got messages sent to their communicators.

[Eyes] X-T, Y-T, Z-T

“Do you think that’s-” Mumbo started.

“Techno’s coordinates? Possibly. So far whatever this is has been sending us help.”

“Take EX with you? I of course should be staying back here for Jrum.”

“I’ll probably be fine on my own.”

“He’ll make the trip faster. And if something is wrong, better to save time.”

The avian ended up relenting and walked over to talk to the helsmit. In a matter of seconds the two of them were gone and Mumbo went back over to Grumbot. He winced at the sparks that flew from the holes in Grumbot’s torso. Obviously he needed to at least get a look at what was going on in there. His hand moved to turn Grumbot off, but just before he could press the power button, he was stopped. “Please don’t.”

“Grum?” Mumbo asked quietly, not completely sure he heard Grumbot speak with how quiet the words were.

“C-can’t turn off. Th-that would b-be bad. N-No admin.”

Mumbo immediately pulled his hand away. That was right. Theseus had disappeared with Dream, so for now Grumbot being the console was likely the one thing keeping this world stable. Mumbo also quickly plugged Grumbot in to make sure it didn’t run out of power.

“Do you need anything?”

“I don’t know h-how to answer th-that.”

“Why not?”

“I-It’s confusing. And I-I’m tired.”

“Do you want to go into sleep mode?”

“I… I shouldn’t n-need s-sleep. O-only need b-battery.”

Mumbo hugged Grumbot. “It’s okay if you go to sleep. No one will get upset at you.”

Grumbot shook it’s head. “Need to f-fix first. T-Tommy not a-awake. Sh-should be. A-And f-fix t-time. C-can’t without-”

Mumbo held Grumbot closer. “You don’t need to do anything except rest. You’ve been through a lot, both you and your brother.”

“H-had to h-hurt him to h-help him. K-keep him a-away. D-didn’t know what w-was happening. Didn’t know wh-what else to do.”

“Well…” Mumbo wasn’t sure what to say. Jrum obviously hadn’t had the best experience while stuck here, but it wasn’t as bad as what happened to Grumbot. And for all the redstoner knew, Jrum could have ended up in the same situation as his brother if nothing had been done. “While  I don’t… fully approve with the methods… at the very least your brother is not… the worst he could be.”

Grumbot gave a slight nod before speaking again. “Is th-there anything you w-want Console to do?”

“What do you mean?” Mumbo asked, curious by the phrasing.

“What th-things need to b-be done?”

Mumbo frowned. “Grum, you don’t need to do anything. Please just go to sleep.”

There was a pause from Grumbot as it processed what was said, then went into sleep mode. Mumbo sighed in relief as he could feel Grumbot relax in his arms. He put the robot back down on the bed and tucked it in before checking on Grian and Jrum. After making sure they were all asleep, he collapsed in a chair.

“Are you doing okay?” Mumbo looked up to see someone who, because he was so tired, he thought was himself for a split second. 

“Tired. But to be completely honest, I’ve been more exhausted dealing with those three. I’m the one with impulse control. Not to be confused with The Impulse Control that Zed has. Hmm… maybe I’m more tired than I think. Have you ever tried a mustache?”

“I… don’t think I can grow one.”

Mumbo nodded. “Alright. What’s your name?”

“Ranboo.”

“The one Tubbo was worrying about, right?” Mumbo asked, but then didn’t give Ranboo a chance to answer. “And what does Tommy think of you?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re friends. Maybe. I tried what I could to keep him company. Even though I couldn’t be there.”

“Sounds good enough to me. Still unsure about him.” Mumbo gestured to Bad. “And what about him?”

“Uhh, I’m not sure to be honest. And I don’t think I would have it written down.”

Mumbo tilted his head slightly, trying to ignore the fact that just doing that made him feel a little dizzy. “Why would you need to write it down?”

“I don’t really have the best memory of things, so I write everything important to make sure I can’t lose it.”

“Well maybe you can visit and can get checked out in Hermitcraft. See if someone there can help you.”

Ranboo nodded, then was distracted as Michael came over and reached for his hand before pulling him away. Mumbo watched as the two left, Michael excited about seeing Techno, who had just arrived with Xannes. Philza didn’t seem to be back, which was mildly concerning, but at this point, the redstoner was a bit too tired to care and fell asleep.

Grian woke up with a start. He hadn’t quite had a nightmare, more just something in the dream startled him awake. He shifted slightly and realized that he was still holding Jrum in his arms, who was also asleep.

Carefully, the avian pulled away and got out of bed, making sure Jrum didn’t wake up. He looked over at the other beds and was glad to see it seemed Tommy had moved. The other bed was empty however, which worried Grian. He looked around more and found Mumbo asleep in a chair, but also without Grumbot.

There were voices from an adjacent room, and Grian was hoping his other son would be there. He tiptoed to not wake the others up, then peeked into the next room. Everyone was gathered around and talking. Well, Xannes was off to the side reluctantly playing with a Ziglin, but that was the only exception. The avian looked around a second time. He didn’t see Grumbot anywhere, and it looked like Phil was gone but Techno was in his place.

Techno. Grian didn’t care if they were related or not. He had been the one to cause this whole mess by killing his kids. And now one of them was missing again and here he was. For the second time that week, Grian had a sword to the piglin’s neck. He had moved fast enough that everyone jumped back in surprise at his sudden appearance.

“What is it this time?” He said in a bored tone which made Grian even angrier. Instead of saying anything, he just swung the sword, cutting into Techno’s arm. He attempted a second swing, but he was pulled back from behind by Xannes, leaving the avian flailing for escape, wings hitting just about anything they could.

“Calm down or I’ll break one of your arms.” The helsmit threatened as he managed to get Grian pinned on the ground. He then looked up at Techno. “Any clue why he’s acting like this?”

“He kidnapped Phil who said he was a Watcher. I went after Phil and made a few withers to get his attention. People started attacking, I attacked back. They were collateral. Didn’t realize they wouldn’t respawn right.”

“More like you didn’t care.” Grian growled from the ground. “First both the boys, then you were threatening NPG, and now you’re here and Grum isn’t!”

“What do you mean he isn’t here?” Bad asked, cutting into the conversation. “No one’s gone in or out of that room since we all came out here. Well, until you of course.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention.” Grian accused, but Tubbo stopped him.

“No, we’ve all been watching in case someone woke up, especially with what Techno found.”

“Found a way to kill my kids again?” Xannes sighed and twisted Grian’s arm a bit. The avian yelped at the sudden pain, and for a moment the helsmit was glad it seemed to have shut him up, before Grian managed to swipe his leg to make Xannes fall to the ground and pin him instead.

“Can you at least first hear what we found out? We think it’s related to Tommy’s condition.” Tubbo tried to offer, knowing that Grian seemed to like Tommy almost as much as the bots.

Grian hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay fine, but make it quick. I already saw you got him to move.”

“Wait, what do you mean he moved?” Tubbo asked, quickly moving to the extension room.

“Well he’s on his side now.” Grian explained, following behind, flaring his wings out when he felt crowded from behind as the others rushed to follow as well.

“Well we didn’t do that.” Tubbo said, going over to Tommy. “Oh, and looks like it might not have been Tommy either.” He looked back over to the avian. “Well it looks like you don’t have to panic about Grum anymore. He’s right here.”

Grian closed his wings back up so he could get over to Tubbo and Tommy. Once he got closer, he was able to see Grumbot curled up in the teen’s arms. The moment he saw the robot, Grian sighed, glad that nothing else bad had happened. He also then glanced back to Jrum to make sure he was still there, glad to see he was.

“See, everything’s alright.” Tubbo said, even though Grian could tell that wasn’t entirely true.

“What did you find out about Tommy then?”

Everyone left the sleeping area again to talk. “I went to check on my place when we got back.” Techno started to explain. “Not many people knew about it, so went to see if anyone was hiding there. It’s far off, so it could have been used as a hideout. Turns out I was right, and someone was there. But not willingly.”

“And that would be?” Grian asked, looking at the others to see if their expressions would tell him anything.

“After Wilbur died, he came back as a ghost, though it didn’t quite act like him. Preferred the name Ghostbur over Wilbur too. Well, he was there, but alive. And he wasn’t Wilbur. He was just an alive version of Ghostbur. Somehow he got revived and was in my house when it happened. Since then, he hasn’t been able to get out, no matter what he tries. He says it’s like an invisible wall.”

“And what’s that got to do with Tommy?”

“Obviously Ghostbur didn’t show up at his body, or else he wouldn’t be in my house. Tommy lost his last life before being revived, so there’s a good chance he’s in the same situation and we just have his body.”

“Then where is Tommy?”

“I can’t hit the button! It’s gonna crush me!” Tommy yelled out, unable to stop the flying machine he was currently in.

“Mine out the back!” Zedaph yelled, making Tommy realize that, yes, he could do that. He pulled out a pickaxe and broke through the pistons, slime blocks and observers, escaping just before the machine would have crushed him between itself and whatever was keeping him stuck. 

“Okay, your drill didn’t work.”

“Hmm, really thought that one would do it.” Zed replied, looking down at a napkin he had written a list on and crossed out one of the items. “Well! Next up we’re going to need some cows.”

“I do not want death by cow.”

“But they’re the perfect size for it.” Zedaph pouted, but crossed another thing off the list.

“Just give me the next idea!”

“Okay, so we’re just going to need you to use some minor telekinetic powers-”

There was an interruption as Scar arrived in tow with Cub. “Okay, I picked up all the magic crystals I think might be able to help. If that doesn’t work, Cub and I are fully prepared to try some vex magical shenanigans.”

“I’m not a fan of the word shenanigans, but whatever, let’s fucking try it!”

From there, the various hermits tried a number of ideas to get Tommy out, but none of them seemed to work. At the very least they learned that he could go into the minecart tunnel and all the way to Mumbo’s hobbit hole without trouble as well as the fact that Tommy seemed to be the only one affected, but it still wasn’t ideal. 

A few hermits stayed around to keep Tommy company, which he was very glad for. A few small minigames were built to help pass the time. Since the situation with the bots meant Tommy had missed out on HHH, Ren started using some unused questions from the day as well as getting Tommy’s answers for what he had asked. From there it just dissolved into a bit of storytelling.

For the most part, Tommy just listened to the stories, but when he was offered to tell one of his own, he passed up on the offer, asking for some time to think of a good one. While the others started talking, he tried thinking of something to share when he realized something. “Guys… I… I don’t have a fucking clue when I got here.”

They asked for clarification and Tommy explained that thinking back, he couldn’t remember anything from his exile or the first few weeks he was in Hermitcraft. Except for a few short bits of memory, he had nothing. He tried to calm the other hermits down by mentioning Ghostbur had the same thing happen, but that only seemed to make them more worried.

Just about everyone stayed over that night no matter how much Tommy wanted them to not stay just for pity, but he ended up enjoying the impromptu sleepover. Though it was still in the back of his mind, just having the hermits there for him made things feel a bit more normal.

Grumbot stared at [:)]. He should be awake but he wasn’t. The revival didn’t seem to have worked and it wasn’t sure why. So it asked for more help, but then was upset when none was given. Well, the staying near [:)] suggestion was repeated, but it could very clearly see that just being in proximity to [:)] was not doing anything.

It glanced up briefly as [:)] came near. It couldn’t quite see them, but the listed coordinates for them matched their current position. [:)] came near afterwards, Grumbot able to see the edges of his red feathers for a moment. They talked about it and [:)] for a moment before leaving again, and then it could hear them discussing Ghostbur. It sounded like that revival mostly worked, though there seemed to be an issue with it. Grumbot frowned at that, wishing it had known about this sooner. It would need to find Ghostbur to fix the situation and then proceed to fix [:)].

Grumbot tried to move, but was stopped. It needed to stay near [:)]. It argued that this was not helping [:)]. The answer was that it wasn’t supposed to be helping [:)], it was supposed to be helping Grum. But Grumbot didn’t care. Grum was not in charge. He was just supposed to work his programs. It, on the other hand, was meant to run this world and keep everything in order. And that included fixing the revivals.

[kiss-me-kira]

2 Encounter w/ Kira

just second meeting nothing really exciting

cut for length 

The beach was lovely today. The Morioh sun was warm and the breeze was brisk. Maybe a little too swift because it kept blowing my hair in my face, but all in all it was very enjoyable. I had found a nice little cove downhill from some wild looking orchard. It was quiet and peaceful, so I brought out my sketchbook and some books to read. 

My sketchbook wasn’t working well with me, the pages were too big and kept swallowing up my doodles. So I switched to my pocket sketchbook and was working on a rough sketch of the sea and horizon line when my hands refused to do what I told them. So I took a pause and decided to rest my eyes. I laid back in the sand and pulled my arm across my eyes to block out the sun for just a few minutes. 

“This is private property you know.” I shot up, there was someone immediately behind me. I jumped when there wasn’t anyone there, but I heard rustling in  the trees so I looked a bit up and there he was. 

“I-Im so sorry is this your house?” He looked so familiar but I couldn't quite remember who he was. Surely I wouldn't forget such a handsome face. 

He exhaled sharply, as if that was his version of a laugh, and hopped down from the orchard’s embankment down onto the beach just a few steps away from me. Something told me he was so familiar, but it was on the tip of my tongue, as if he had just walked out from a dream. 

“No, it's not mine. But you shouldn’t be here.” His face showed no effect, but his voice seemed jovial? Was he teasing me? Was this some sort of inside joke I should remember? 

“Im sorry, I'll leave right now.” I gathered my things, not like I had many of them, but when I saw the book I remembered. He was like a dream, or at least I had thought he was at the time, but he was Dr. Holly Joestar-Kira’s son. 

“You’re Kira.” that came out sounding more like an accusation than I intended but it served its purpose. 

“Kira Yoshikage. And you are?” He extended his hand, his long delicate fingers hanging there waiting for mine. Oh god I hope he didn't see me staring, I scurried to move my things to my left arm and meet his hand in a shake. 

“Constantin. Nice to actually meet you.” Because coming into my room when I was fairly certain you were a fever dream really doesn't count.

 His skin was so soft, but his handshake was firm. I couldn't help but think of all the things he could do with those hands. Maybe he was a violinist, or a pianist, or perhaps a painter or sketcher. Ugh I bet those hands would feel even better under my dress or around my neck… Oh god that is not a good road to go down when he's right in front of you Constantin. 

In an ill attempt to quash those thoughts I nodded to him and turned to go back the way I came this was about as good a time as any to duck out. Which i probably should have done as soon as he mentioned that I was trespassing on private property. 

I turned and started walking down the beach towards the way I came. 

“Wrong way.” I turned around to see him standing there in an odd little pose with his hips cocked to the side and his arms crossed. 

“It's the way I came.” No response. 

“Well then show me the proper way.” If he was going to be short and curt I could easily do the same. He spun on his heel and started walking away. I guess I'm supposed to follow him? Of course the beautiful man who fell from the sky would not be talkative. There was no way I could completely hold a conversation on my own, at best I can reflect the energy that the other person puts in and he was not doing much of anything. 

“Like the Roman Emperor?” He asked, quirking up his eyebrow. Well that was surprising. 

“Yes yes, the one who moved the capital to Byzantium and converted to Chirstianity. My family is Italian and big on history.” It was usual to have this conversation with new people. It's not exactly a common name so I figure i have to justify it a bit. 

“It's an interesting name.” Was apparently all he could think of as a response. 

“Hm so I’ve heard.” Many times. God im so fucking awkward what the hell am I supposed to talk about when Im being escorted off of someone elese’s property? 

Kira led me down the beach for a few more meters then gestured up a small slope. I scrambled to the top, with him a few steps behind me, and tried to regain my bearings. Sure this was only a few hundred meters down the shore from where I was but nothing looked familiar. I didn’t even see a road nearby, just a tree leaning dangerously over the wall eyes. I shuddered remembering fainting there a few days ago. Drat, I would have to ask him for directions. I steeled myself up, ready to be met with a cold and partial response but he spoke first. 

“What do you know of Morioh?” What an odd way of phrasing a question. Was he trying to offer me directions? 

“I’ve been here about a week, so all I know is my hotel in the city center, the beach where I just was, the Wall Eyes and the hospital.” Hopefully 

“Which way is the hospital.” The way he phrased it was more like command than a question. And why the fuck was he asking me he lived here. Ugh he's testing me, that condescending little jerk. I flexed my hands so I did not clench them in fists, it was a good thing I had a pretty decent internal GPS. Yeah there was that one time I convinced my family I knew my way around Rome because I studied Latin for 6 years, but as it turned out a lot had changed from the 2000 year old maps I knew. 

“That way,” I pointed confidently over his shoulder and to the left. I was pretty sure that was where I would have ended up if I had left the beach the other way. 

“No.” He said flippantly, as if he’s disappointed I didn’t know better. I stood there like an enraged dead fish, glaring with my mouth hanging open. He was being cold and dismissive yet I still wanted to show off. I cracked the knuckles in my right hand and took a deep breath in I can be a nice person. 

“Would you mind showing me the way?” I asked in my best imitation of a regularly pleasant person. 

Kira blinked in a way that looked affirmative, or I was imagining things, so I followed as he turned around to walk around the wall eyes.

Once I stopped being as embarrassed and afronted, it was a nice walk. We were still close enough to the beach to feel the breeze on my face, and every so often I caught a glimpse of Kira batting his hair out from his eyes. Which as much as I hated to say it, was pretty cute. I couldn't help but want to reach out and brush it out of his face for him. But that would be quite rude and creepy, so I restrained myself. Of course I stole some other glances at him. He walked very purposefully, each step was assured, and he kept a nice rhythmic pace too. 

I cleared my throat, it had been silent for a long time, and now that i was actually calm I didn't want to come off as rude. He had been kind in his own weird little way. 

“Do you live around here?” Hopefully that was friendly and not ‘I'm going to stalk you’... 

“I live by the harbor.” He had slowed a little to match my pace. That was considerate, I think. 

“Ah yes I know where that is.” Shit that was too sarcastic. 

“You do?” He quirked an eyebrow up. 

“No of course not, I already told you all the places I know.” I forced a smile, and an awkward laugh. Please think this was a joke. 

A noise, he madea  weird noise, like a sharp exhale without moving his face.

“Guess you did.” That was a laugh? Maybe? 

“But that does explain-” I gestured loosely to his outfit, “this.” 

“How so?” His voice was lighter, and I could almost hear a smirk in it. But his face still showed no effect. He must be warming up to me.

“You work there, no? On a ship?” 

“Yes,” he looked impressed and I hated how that made me excited, “I do. How did you know?” He couldn't seriously be asking me that right? He was dressed like a 1940’s sailor. He had to know that. 

“Well you either work on a ship or you just learned the yablochko…” I nervously laughed again. Everything is fine. 

“I'm a surgeon.” He said in the lightest tone I’d heard him use yet. But wait, that didn't quite make sense...

“Oh-” 

“On cargo ships.” He clarified.

“Ah…” so he wasn't mocking me, “Oh that's very interesting actually.”  It was so interesting that apparently I hadn’t realized we had made it back into the city. Or the outskirts of it at least. It wasn’t like we had been talking for long, or about much, there was just something about him that stole all my attention. 

But now that I recognized where we were a little, I let my eyes stray. I think he said something, but everything was drowned out by a literal monster in the street in front of us. 

I grabbed Kira by the arm, not so gently jerking him back to keep from walking closer to that thing. It was pink and tall, with odd pointed ears and what looked like armored plating. No one else was paying it any mind on the sidewalk, but I felt my nails digging into his arm and didn't think I remembered how to breathe. 

He was very calm when it turned around to look at us. Kira glanced a few times between me and whatever the hell that was before speaking. 

“Ah, so you can see it now.”

[inkstaineddove]

A German’s Guide to Romance

Pairing: GerIta

Characters: Germany, America, Britain, France, N. Italy, Prussia

Summary: After the events of the Buon San Valentino strip, Germany's still very much confused over his feelings for Italy. Luckily, Prussia knows the best nations around to help him!

Germany sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was wondering why he bothered talking about this at all with Austria and Prussia. Ever since he’d stopped speaking, the two of them had been giving him very amused looks. 

Roderich rose up. He was biting his lip to prevent himself from erupting into laughter. "I can't believe how dense you are. Gilbert must finally be rubbing off on you." He began putting his coat on. A snort escaped him. "If you honestly don't know what Italy means by all this still, there’s no hope for you. I'll be heading home now." With a flip of his hand, the be-speckled nation left.

"Does he not remember that he’s been free loading off us since the eighties?" Ludwig muttered before sighing. He wasn't sure if he was relieved by Austria leaving or upset. His brother couldn't be of much help, though the younger nation believed the other to be some sort of womanizing, sex god. That had to count for something more than for the usual familial idolization, right?

Prussia snickered. "You're such a dummkopf, West. Seriously, I saw that book you were reading. You don't read relationship books - those are for old, divorced chicks! Especially cause Hungary had some of those before I got back in her pants, suck it prissy boy!" He started in with his cackle. The German sighed once more. "That has nothing to do with anything! You're supposed to be helping me with my problems, not talking about who you've screwed!" Gilbert rolled his eyes. Couldn't he just lighten up for once? If Gilbert wanted to go on a tangent while giving his brother love advice, then just let it be! "Ja, ja. Just get the stick out of your ass. Obviously, I can't help you with the closeted gay problems you're having. Me and my aggressive heterosexuality don't do that. I can get you to the gayest guys I know though." "I never said anything about needing to come out of the closet!" At that point, it didn't matter what Germany may or may not have said. Prussia had made his mind up, deciding that this is what his brother truly needed. So he called up all his best friends and figured out the specifics of the meeting place. --- France was standing by the curb, ready to greet the pair as they got out of the car. "Mon ami! And his lil bastard brother too! Ah, so good to see both of you!" Ludwig's mood went from his usual level of displeasure to beyond aggravated in less than a second. "I'm not pouring out my feelings to this man!" Gilbert just shoved his brother into the Frenchman's home. "Nein! You're gonna talk and listen to him because I'm tired of you moping around the house! Only I can do that." Francis closed the door once the brothers were in and sat down on the love seat, his glass of red wine returning to his hand immediately. "Moping? Non, that's no good! Oh, already you remind me of Gil throughout that little union of the past and Toni before we got Romano to calm down." He put his hand to his chest dramatically. "Almost as bad as these two. Non. Worse than those two." These two referred to a very confused looking America and Britain, who were sitting next to each other on the sofa. Britain put his crossword down and glared at the two offending parties. "Why the hell would we be helping Ludwig? I thought he hated the three of us." Alfred laughed and kicked his feet up on the table. "Speak for yourself, dude. Germany and the Germans love me. Right bro?" "Nein. Not since you were spying on Frau Merkel." The German in question crossed his arms, looking more agitated by the second. Prussia raised a hand to cut the two off from an inevitable argument. "Fight later. You're all here today cause you're pretty gay and almost as awesome as I am. So almost-awesome that you're giving my bruder love advice, and by that I mean totally how to bone the Italian." He smiled and finger-gunned at Germany, who only felt his soul shrivel up more inside. Arthur and Alfred jumped up. Both were arguing against the Prussian's accusations. They weren't gay! They were completely straight! How was it not obvious? France sighed. "Aside from trying to get Marilyn Monroe and being married to the original Queen Elizabeth, have either of you been with a woman? Or ever been interested in one?" The two grew quiet immediately. After five minutes, America was the first to attempt to explain himself. "I totally would've gotten Marilyn if it wasn't for Joe DiMaggio...and Marlon Brando...and J.F.K...and the rest of the Kennedy family at least once." Meanwhile, the Briton besides him was glaring at France. "So? What does that have to do with anything, you Frog? Francis and Gilbert shared a look before shaking their heads. "Angleterre, all I'm saying is, the two of you are together and engaged to be engaged - what a horrible phrase, non? - while also having only been with one woman each." Prussia smirked. "I'd also like to remind the limey that he dated my boy Francis for a few decades too. Then went back to trying to destroy him." After patting his brother on the back, he turned on his heel and exited. "Later losers!" France pat the seat besides him. He tried to smile in a way that wasn't forced and appeared friendly, but it just turned out looking rather creepy and sent a red flag to the Germanic nation. "Have a seat." As soon as the words came out, Ludwig was on the floor. He sat with his legs crossed under him like a kindergartner. "Danke, but nein. The floor is just as comfortable." And less likely to feel me up, he thought with a grimance. The quartet sat in uncomfortable silence for awhile. Germany didn't know what to make of the other three. He wasn't close to any of them and didn't really feel comfortable pouring his heart out. He just wanted to go home as quickly as possible. It was America who would be the one break the silence. And, in typical fashion, he decided to speak the first thing that came to mind. "Seriously dude. Why the fuck would you wanna get in Italy's pants? Wouldn't you, like, break him?" This cracked France up. He could barely stay in his seat, almost spilling the contents of his drink all of over himself. This was one of the best things he'd heard all week. "Amèrique," he sighed once he regained the ability to talk. "You can't just go around asking people if they'd break their boyfriends. Otherwise you'd have to ask me that about dear Mathieu." There was a deadly silence. Alfred narrowed his eyes at his 'friend’. "I'm kicking your ass. I don't know when, I don't know how, but it's gonna happen." Germany cleared his throat before this could escalate any farther. Though it did make him feel better to know that the two of them acted like this outside of meetings. It no longer seemed like a front to annoy him and the other focused nations. "I honestly don't know why I'm trying to do this. This stupid relationship book told me to and I didn't know how to react. It was red roses! Red roses, he didn't understand, but I understood..." He drifted off until he was muttering to himself. All three of them shared looks. It was the silent consensus that Germany was finally beginning to lose it. If it wasn't so pathetic, it would've been hysterical. Arthur got up and went towards Ludwig. He knelt down in front of him. "Get a grip, man. Red roses aren't as big a deal as you're making them." He scoffed. "My God, who even stoops so low as to read self-help novels?" He turned to Francis and shrugged. "He's beyond our help." Francis quickly rose. "Non! It is never too late to save a poor soul. Allemagne, do not listen to that cynical bastard! I speak the language of love!" He twirled around and threw rose petals over himself and Germany. "You will get the boy whether it kills me!" "Dear Lord, please let it kill him." Arthur looked up at the ceiling and prayed aloud, arms extended skywards. France kicked him in the back and scowled. "Filthy limey," he muttered under his breath as he picked Germany up. Germany, for his part, looked utterly horrified at having the Frenchmen become his guide in love. He'd much rather have Russia show him the secrets of friendship and worldwide popularity than this. Now to make matters worse, Alfred was jumping around in excitement. "Dude, we're gonna hook you up! You got the love dude, the total fucking hero, and...well Arthur's pretty good in the sack so that counts for something!" Arthur massaged his temples. "Oi. Please can we just get this over with? I want to forget this day ever happened to me." The German smirked. "Ja, you can say that again." He slouched down on the now deserted couch, running his hands through his hair. He decided that he was only doing this for Prussia's sake, so his brother could feel useful for once. He'd just pretend this was all good advice and go home. America beamed. An idea had just come to him. "Yo! You should totally do what I did!" Once he saw that everyone's attention was turned onto him, he continued. "Just wait till Italy gets himself in a war, gets his ass kicked a bit, and save his fucking ass cause you're the hero! Fuck yeah, U-S-A!" The three Europeans glared at him. Of course though, he didn't pick up on it. "What? That's how me and Artie got together, ri-" "Fuck off, you twat. I didn't need your help." For good measure, he flicked the now obviously confused nation off. Britain turned to Germany. "Ignore him.” He closed his eyes for a second before opening them again. Britain smiled, appearing much calmer than he did a moment ago. “Ask him out on a date. That’s the easiest way to go about this. Don’t waste your time reading the subliminal messages in flowers when you could actually, and this might come as news to you, ask him about it yourself.” Ludwig groaned and began rubbing his temples. "I already did that. I wound up giving him a bouquet and proposing. He was crying, our waiter was about ready to be institutionalized, and my whole brain shut dow. I don't even remember what happened after that." He looked up. Everything about him showed how ridiculously weary he was of the situation. This was a battle that couldn't be won. He wanted to surrender. "I refuse to go through such hell again." France chuckled. "Oh, you Germans are so emotionally challenged." He flipped his hair and smiled. "You don't propose on the first date! You propose on the twentieth! Everyone knows that! No wonder your Italian lover had a meltdown." He laughed, a bit louder than what was called for. "You're still very much at square one. You must first let your feelings be known. Ridiculous to pursue anything unwanted." Britain laughed without any humor. "Then why did you try to force me into a marriage?" America turned at Francis, ready to lunge. "What the hell?" Francis brushed them both off. "It was because the Euro and my economy weren’t in a good spot, calm down." Germany sighed and stood once more. "You better hope this works. Or I swear, I'll..." He shook his head. "I'll probably give up. Ja, that's exactly what I'll do." Without another word, he walked out of the home and began his journey to Italy. Maybe this time, he'd finally find out what his friend-lover-companion-thing truly meant. And maybe he might just walk away happier. Ever the pessimist, the German doubted it completely. --- Italy sat outside his home, lazing in the warm sun. He had just woken up from his second nap of the day. The peculiar cat that always seemed to find its way to him was now lying on his chest. "Ciao, lil' guy! So good to see you!" He smiled while petting the kitten behind its the ears. Germany stood a few feet back, practically shaking. He could do this. He'd been through worse things, he'd seen things unimaginable. Confessing his feelings wasn't that hard if he thought about it. After thinking about it for asecond or two too long he decided that no, it was actually somehow worse. He shook the negative thought out of his head. It was now or never. "Italien!" He bellowed. "We need to talk right now!" Feliciano jumped up and the cat went running into the house. "Schieße," Ludwig muttered under his breath. Not even five minutes in and he'd already managed to mess it up. Might as well turn back... "Ve, Germany! I haven't seen you in forever!" The peculiar nation was already grinning. "Sit down, have a tomato! Big brother just brought them home from Spain's!" Hesitantly, Ludwig did as told. He even took a tomato, despite Romano glaring at him through the blinds. The older Italian mouthed curses at him. That eased Germany up and even got him to smile. If Lovino was being his usual irritable self, things couldn't be so bad here. "Say, Italy. Do you think France's opinions are...credible?" He leaned back on one hand. This answer would depend on whether he went through with the plan or not. "Si! Big Brother France is so wise! And nice too! He's always bringing me wine and food. Last time I saw him, he was even giving me advice on you!" He swallowed hard on his bite of tomato. "A-And? I hope it was all good things. We're supposed to all be allies now." He mentally kicked himself for saying that. He concluded that had to have been one of the dumbest things he'd ever said. Everyone in Europe was allies now. Italy knew that as well as he did. "Ve, it was real nice! He called you some weird thing in French and said I just had to deal with you can only express feelings like that of an emotionally constipated old man. Whatever that meant." Veneziano laughed. "He's such a weird guy." Germany couldn't help laughing at Italy's description of the other nation. "Ja, weird doesn't begin to cover it. I actually saw him today. Along with America and England an-" "How were they? I haven't seen America since the last meeting and he seemed really stressed. Something about Republicans and the Midd-" "You shouldn’t interrupt!" The Italian began panic-crying. Germany freaked out a little. Did it really come out that harsh? He was only trying to correct the other. "I-I'm sorry. I just wasn't finished yet. As I was saying, I bumped into those three arschlöcher and you came up with a bunch of other things." "Really? You were talking about me? Aw, Germany! I didn't think you did that kinda thing!" His smile turned into a grin. Ludwig felt a blush spread throughout. He tried to play it cool despite this. "Ja, well. I do...somewhat...really...like you?" That was a pathetic. If he was getting to this point he might as well just spill it out. "That was actually why we were talking because ever since that tomato ring and flowers incident where I don't think I'd ever wanted to suddenly drop dead more, I've been thinking about you and red roses and everything." "Roses mean that much to you? Ve! I'll have to start buying you more then!" "Nein! Uh, I mean nein. It's good for just Valentines. Which happens to be the holiday of love! Wow, what a coincidence!" Italy cocked his head to the side. Germany wasn't scaring him. But he was definitely confusing him beyond the usual amount. "Ludwig, I feel like you're not telling me something. What's bothering you?" The use of his human name threw him off. It was something he preferred the other nations didn't use often. Hearing Italy say it made him know that the other was seriously interested in this. For God's sake, his eyes were even open for once! The Germanic nation looked down at the ground. "Ich liebe dich." The words came out rushed and jumbled, not even sounding like separate words. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ich liebe dich, Feliciano. I know for you that might not mean anything, but I don't go around saying it much. I barely even say it to my own bruder - which is a problem for a different day. I mean this with all my heart." He looked up at the other nation, who looked completely shell-shocked. He sighed. "Forget it. I'll get going. Guten Nacht." Germany stood up and dusted the grass off his pants. He turned with every intention in his mind to never speak to another Italian or set foot in Italy ever again. Prussia could deal with this part of Europe for all he cared. After walking ten yards, he heard someone running after him, calling out his name. Ludwig stopped, completely frozen in disbelief. Small arms quickly went around his waist and squeezed him as tight as they could. "Germany! Germany, don't leave yet! You didn't even give me the chance to respond! I love you too! Ti amo! Ti amo anch'io! Please don't leave!" Germany felt some tears soak into the back of his shirt. He turned around and looked at Italy, his features softening in compassion, concern, and a strange sense of happiness. "Why're you crying? I tried not to yell as much this time." Feliciano sniffled and smiled. "No, no. It's just my first love, he did what you were about to do. He left after saying he loved me and I never saw him again. And it scared me because you two look alike and...and I didn't want to sit back this time and watch you go." He looked up, into his love’s eyes. "I don't want to lose you now." Germany smiled. He was on cloud nine despite this confession. "Feli, I promise I will always be here for you. I will not disappear. Whoever it was who left you like that is a coward. I don't know much about this sort of stuff and I don't know how to do any of it-" this got him a laugh and a feeling of encouragement. "-but I know I will never have you go through that again." In response, Feliciano wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck. He pulled the taller nation down to his height and kissed him. Germany's body, tense and frigid at first, quickly warmed up and began learning how this sort of thing worked. Meanwhile, on a bench a few feet away, England and America handed over the equivalent of twenty euros each to France. "You see those two? Just how you two started out. And look! I was involved in both. Ah, go me!" Germany quickly pulled away and glared at those three. "You've got ten seconds to get your sorry selves all the way across the Atlantic!" "Party at my place, dudes!" Alfred said as they immediately ran off. 

Germany smiled down at the man in his arms. "Does dinner out sound good tonight?" Italy grinned. "Si, it sounds perfect." Germany finally got back what made him a happier man for those three weeks. His Italian who made up for whatever Ludwig lacked in. He was whole.

[zapzapbap]

“Muse”

“Muse” - Fluff w/ a little bit of angst

Short Summary: Yoongi always invites you over to his studio to bring food and bounce ideas off of you. However, when he hears that you’re leaving for holiday back to your home country, he won’t let you leave without showing his best friend just how inspiring he thinks you are.

                                                      ~.~

Hunger.

Yoongi had never looked at you this way. Or maybe he had, when your back was turned, when you couldn’t notice him surveying you, compartmentalizing you, committing every cell of you to memory and imagining a future where you his. Maybe. You hadn’t known. How could you? You were too busy having fun with him, comforting him, challenging him, being his friend to notice. You couldn’t possibly have known that one phrase would change it all.

“I have to go back home.”

Those six words. Why were they such a battle to say?

Maybe because you had waited so long to say them. You were leaving in a week, but you knew this two months ago.

You thought this wouldn’t be hard - it was nothing serious to you. Just a routine visit - you’d be coming back soon. You weren’t staying for any longer than a month.

But throughout those two months you had known, you had so many opportunities to tell him.

You texted every day.

Hung out every other day.

Went to dance practices.

Talked face to face.

Complained together. Wrote together. Ate together. Watched together. Everything, together.

You were almost as close to him as the rest of the boys were. You could only be closer if you lived with them.

So not telling him sooner was strange for you - especially since you two talked about nearly everything. Maybe you would have avoided telling him altogether if he hadn’t brought up going to the countryside next week with the boys, and it forced this confession out of you.

The look on his face… A mixture of so many things. Anger, sadness, confusion, contempt.

Before you could even clarify that you wouldn’t even be gone that long, he blew up at you, interrogating you on how long you’d known and accusing you of lying to him. Before you could even answer his questions, he’d kicked you out and sent you home quivering and teary-eyed.

However, his soft spot for you must have gotten the better of him - or Namjoon, probably Namjoon - because he texted you two days later apologizing for being so short with you. You apologized as well - or at least you were planning to. Before you could even send the text, he sent one to you asking you to come to the studio.

“We need to talk.”

Oh no. This can’t be good.

                                                             ~.~

When you got to the dorm, no one was there. Or at least, everyone was asleep.

It was late, but usually you could hear the sound of Jungkook or Taehyung click-click-clicking away at their computer screens playing video games. It was odd - the dorm without the guys felt lifeless, like no one had ever lived here. For a moment, you were wondering if Yoongi had pranked you or something, and was trying to get you back for not telling him - maybe Hobi or someone would pop out and jump-scare you or something. But no - when you walked to towards the Genius Lab, the door was cracked, and there stood Yoongi, his hands in his pockets, looking like he’d been thinking about something for a very long time. When he saw you walk in, he stiffened, suddenly looking as if he regretted inviting you here. Oh boy.

“Oppa, is everything okay?” you asked, afraid to meet his gaze, still worried about what lies ahead of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, looking down at the floor. “Um… Sit down. I want to talk about something.”

So you sat, avoiding him, choosing to look at your hands or the floor or the wall - anywhere but him. You knew it in your heart that your friendship was over. He was only doing this to let you down gently, to save the guys and the public from seeing you crying.

That thought changed almost as fast as it had occurred when he said, “Y’know, I’m not good at expressing my feelings.”

You looked up. It was like he was almost mirroring your body posture - looking away from you, pressing his lips together nervously, not seeming to know what to do with his slightly shaky hands. He was anxious.

“So, I uh…” he mumbled, not seeming to know what to say. Struggling. Oh. “Look, just listen to this for me, okay?”

You nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Almost as if a switch had been turned, he transformed into calm, in-control, assured Yoongi as he turned to his computer. After a few seconds of searching, he pulled up what appeared to be an unreleased track and pressed play.

A beautiful piano melody…

He turned to you.

Soft, yet gruff vocals…

He took your hand.

Clumsy, yet poetic lyrics. Unpolished, yet so, so real…

Tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

Muse.

The song spoke of a man confused, a man afraid, a man unsure of the sudden inspiration that had just walked into his life unexpectedly and made him feel alive. It spoke of a future filled with uncertainty, but promise. A confession of truth, for both himself, and his new inspiration.

You.

When it was over, your heart felt like it was going to pound right out of your ribcage and jump into his waiting hands.

“Yoongi…” You stated, unsure of exactly what to do.

He immediately let go of your hands.

“I’m sorry.” he said, looking to the ground again, this time angry with himself. “You don’t like it - “

“No! Yoongi - “

“It’s fine. I made a mista - “

Before he could finish that sentence, you grabbed his hand and turned him towards you.

“Oppa, listen to me.” you commanded, and he looked towards you to meet your gaze. “I love it - you.”

Silence.

You both sat there, unsure of what to do, hearts beating rapidly, but almost in tandem.

You don’t remember who leaned in first.

Who embraced who first.

Who had who first in the palm of the other’s hands.

But there you were, in his studio, tears falling down your cheeks, arms wrapped around his neck, lips pressed against his, feeling like you were going to explode.

After a while, you both pulled apart, looking deep into each other’s eyes, and you saw that he was nearly crying too, gummy smile plastered on his face as he watched you pant.

He kept you in his arms as he pulled you towards the couch, into his lap, still smiling happily like he won the freaking lottery.

You hadn’t known it then, but you were smiling too, as you cuddled his arms which were wrapped around your waist.

He snuggled his head against your shoulder, watching you play with his hands.

Comfortable silence. Then, he finally broke it after a short moment.

“Thank you.”

                                                           ~.~

A/N: I know this one’s hella short, but I wanted to get something out for you guys to combat this insufferable writer’s block that I’ve been having. Hope you all enjoy! 

Masterlists. 

[paraclete0407]

Feel like Du Fu dreaming of the distant capital Chang’an; ‘liang-zi’ in rain or so.  Money burns, houses burn - diamonds burn.  ‘Do not harm the wine and oil.’  People don’t even think about An Lushan Civil War and IDK if I read fake history but f-cking Hail Satan / Moloch (’Eat, Lord!’ - Salammbo) from what I read; this world; these men; ‘A Dish of Peaches in Russia.’  Can’t wait to get tortured by K-mafia in all the pornographic violation-vectors pleasures of which I investigated over the years dept. of Purgatory(?).  Sing infernal muse of orgasm-hunting and desperately personal inward contractionist odysseys; I rem. thinking ‘220K Belgian breast-implants,’ it looked like my piano-teacher’s house; Knausgaard is like ‘Time for Everything.’  I wrote ‘Success Kid Soup’ where SAmchon / Sammo is writing his Salterian gratitude-journals teaching Hyomin abt. James Salter, then, ‘final eloquence(?) of Jane Austen scholarship.  

I rem. once sleeping at Lake Park in car thinking PCH slept in cars to keep from being degen. but ppl thought I was battering old men at Children’s Grand Park or smashing up one of my favorite girls with a flashlight(!?) - it’s not even true.  

‘Do you know The Death of Ivan Ilyich,’  midnight gardens, but at this time in my life I felt I had no real program.  My only ‘take’ was if you want to talk about DoII let’s sincerely talk about it but then IDK what women ‘intend.’  Plasma-cannons, alien antennae; a while back I thought about ‘Holdings’ only there appears to be a baptism of fire in some sense or other.  I rem. psychoticization of Barry Hannah, GnR prophecies, is he burying or disinterring the AK-74.  The song from the untranslatable SF global HumDev drama where they married IRL then divorced, some Frenchman,... sexually awaken this! - that song is like... I went on Wikipedia reading about kamikaze, ‘liberty,’ bomb-interception w/ Type-0, fact that some Japanese really weren’t lip-lick daddy-daughter fake paternal colonialists (i believe) b/c a few JP probably detected Perry’s lip-lick, ShiShi, knock knock wakizahi Heaven’s Judgment to mental Cho Kuks(?) - Koreans understand Iwo Jima Lt. Gen b/c these are sacred bloodlines 

I rem. ‘when Black girls love them some white boys’ - great!  I just regret ever saying anything like TW-1 French tips it’s retarded, now abideth the face, the brows, the destiny of Woman, 

XJP probably knows all this; extend question, how to show / teach world..

‘I appreciated’... ‘Expectation’... Smoothie Kng FroYo Bella...

IDK why I feel like saying all this now; I bought a watch-head for like 50 ollars that later got humidified, the watch-repairman’s grip was excellent, but these peple are just not my constituents because at bottom they’re AmKor AAPI Twitter ‘PS always hated you’ reactionary tribalists so rape me my friend!  Leave me alone!  I liked ‘Beautiful Goodbye’ but as for the ‘Taeyeon suicide countdown types’ if you really wanted ‘My way your way anything goes tonight’ stimulation can I rip out your fingernails upside down hang baseball bat - it cost less than Six Flags and make more ‘individual special’ story.  It’s not wrong to torture, ‘better to marry than to burn’ and better to hydroelectrocute, waterboard, shortchain, airplane, than spew infernal lies.  Confucius ‘If you love your son beat him’ - I wanna beat myself, IDK if I was right or wrong but smashed ‘Ryan’ with softcover workbook 2011, different time, also turned out he was set up / falsely accused by James so I became one of those ‘ppl that made ppl hate all teachers / system / Caucasians’ - legal, other ppl were toe-kicking to back of knee and stuff.  My colleague asked the English for ‘corporal punishment’ I said ‘physical punishment’ b/c ‘corporal’ is mil. rank and ‘corporeal’ is Catholic oceanic concept.  Other ppl at that hagwon were like ‘cartoons, puns, I am “woke” and exprienced instructor, circumspect, every so often hurl lethal objects at children’ - later he said stuff like ‘pimping Incheon,’ real estate license, Canada.  ‘Korea’s got some growing up to do, libertarianism, a million year patrimony of Canadian nationhood.’  Pornhub, Hushmail, greed-immigration-laws.  I said ‘You’re the butler from Kazuo Ishiguro’ but why say anything these ppl are nail-paring... David’s harlotry, how to cancel you, fake dream, no depth of instructional design or whole school architecture, not even dream, not even waiting... Sad!  I remember Jordan Peterson calling Tinkerbell ‘the porn fairy’ I like Soshi’s ‘Tinkerbell’ from the press-motif and its echo of Emerson’s notion of the ‘scholar of one candle’ I’m not pro-pornography I just have Catholicistic aesthetics

Now I remember ‘David’ who wanted a card and considered the ‘Fnal Word’ summative statement possibilities of a mechanical pencil.  But in the future everyone already understands everything.  I remember later filing away what I had taken to be perfunctory observations based on students’ testimony such as ES = parents; MS =friends HS = [TD Jakes sermon + purposes + future spouse etc.]... My friend said sth, I get super-sick of sharing anything with anyone + fret that all my ‘good deeds’ are being rewarded in this world.  Sica’s ‘Gravity’ cover.  I just no longer understand Korean; Brooks Brothers as white supremacist(?).  LJH is like ‘walking straight up to Heaven.’  Condescending-Canada-1 on my 26th birthday was talking about ‘meting you again’ story-ideas; I had a ‘hen could fly’-esque story idea about deer or ‘hart’ and ducks but in retrospect symbolic thinking, who cares.  ‘that has expelled us and our images (Stevens’...

*

Picture of A.S. Lizzie particolor sweater Cheonggyeoncheon; New Order ‘Regret,’ Thatcher era, all these English ‘God wot Warhammer 40K’ retreat in to expressive Imperium that seems condition of fiction but is actually ‘potential prophecy’ or future certainty-world.  It was ‘Regret,’ Singapore, but the 40K people were satisfied w/ their lives and Thatcher that I know wasn’t executing them or corralling in to work-camps just saying [make do with less?]...

*

I wanted to Western fencing and ended up w/ saber/re, in the late 1990s WJC dispatched cops with MP-5′s in order to extradite or return Cuban refugee-boy to his communist homeland; coach is saying ‘Nazi.’  Did Castro threaten terror or was it just child-sacrifice.  Later my HS achieved prominence in female saber but honestly, games, toys, fake progress, fake hope, IDC don’t touch me.  I later took interest in epee, San-E ‘Feminist,’ my dad said a smart comment about ‘dissonance’ but it is still ‘representations.’  It’s Madonna ‘Holiday.’  

‘Seulgi didn’t touch flowers b/c harm them’ - Pearl Buck ‘Living Reed.’ ~ ‘harm not the Earth.’ Gym avoid, just run or work or sth.  Insane veterinarian bodybuilder ‘meat digestion enzyme - eat many animals as possible.’  ‘Isolation exercise’ - ev1 wants to believe this brililant then they spent like 3000000 dollars on gov’t money on SF training then they are ‘vastus medialis.’  I like ‘Say something nice about Seulgi’ - it’s like ES.  

Feel like what should I confess, my very fav. student, ‘the one who could be anything, whose parents maybe gave her ‘open class.’  What is someone like that to do?  

I used to drive down Capitol seeing Black people thinking ‘God’s chosen’ or so but didn’t feel compelled to add or contribute anything to them as they had a special destiny.  ‘Where do I take this love?’  Everyone wants to adopt everyone, I believe it monstrous, oppose, veto.  ‘Teach me the way’ - it’s grooming, pederasty.  I rem. ‘This Is Love’ and two words that mean ‘already.’  My old poem about S’hai-1 and ‘South of the Border West of the Sun.’  Even more now channeling ‘Evr’y Hour,’ seeing Genghis Khan books at BN,’ Beolsseo arasseo.’  I admire out-of-time rubato things, Spengler characterizing the Greco-Roman culture-soul as ‘andante.’  HUFS-1 is ‘Andante Spianato,’ ‘planing.’  I knew her hometown but she’s not my girl so.  I know no other piece with a ‘spianato’ direction.  No one plays this piece to my satisfaction it’s more Chopin monster-magic.  I liked ‘Forgefuness’ by Hart Crane in a way but weird dreams with Crane like a gelatinous turkey b/c hat is so great abt being homosexual and brilliant(?).  Power without responsibility, conceit.  There were these word-jump-around-page poems from Strand books that I wrote with great joy-generation in HS but after that decided it was madness, mental illness.  Square poem, piano reduction of insanity-pop-music, cancel manic depression.  Later tried sonnet, tangci, sijo.  I like ‘sobriety, staidness.’  ‘Letters to Auratus’ more of my writing tutoring / literary agency abt. what are you trying to convey with ASLS, surrogacy, Heideggerian being-towards-death, dying life.  I get it - for a time I always said ‘I see what you’re saying.’  Purity, remembrance.  But IDK if Auratus knows or doesn’t know b/c ‘Can’t I lie?’  Maybe it is other people’s pathos.  Surrogacy, chaebol, AI knows I like HK3 a lot but in retrospect... I had the phrase ‘autumn settlings.’  Old man waiting for his son, mitigation, train to Cheonan with this grief-blind woman or sth, are you looking at me?  My nose is not Jung Woosung’s nose.  I forgot the zeitgeists from past dramas; I ban them anyway.  ‘The Charm of Department Stores.’

‘Roads Not Taken’ or so is a book about the Vietnam War; who wrote the last word on the Vietnam War?  I felt it strange that they make monthly magazines about the past; this transport with American soldiers very washed.  Vietnam has huge butterflies.  ‘Soldier’s Wives’ ~ ‘This is her taste,’ Chris Kyle’s wife but it’s still like LBSDBS.  I remember reading the Mutual Assured Destruction guy’s theory f ‘Faustian peoples’ or so (not Spengler’s idea of all the West as Faustian-outward-historiographical+ ut sth different), my fav. K-film has always been AMFL; I started remembering ‘Insa,’ feeling autumn golden leaves thrown up by the passing SUV fall through my body.  These words mean many things and in past I took words in mouth I should keep to myself and wish to hear rather than say or wish to mull rather than flaunt... (once Grahame Greene squalor-lord met the Pope who said ‘But I’m already Catholic’ - dept. of apologetics v. present prophecy, discernment, reality-betterment).  I want to tell my most demonic sex-trafficking hallucinations like hole-in-heart zombies racism pineapple pizza, paint the apartment - this was ‘nesting.’  ‘Reflections.’  Auratus was talking of the F-22 which I wanted to tell him that’s not the fastest plane by a longshot, today too I think evth is Satan electric fields and drones thrust-vectoring is a huge toy but IDK what IDK.  I wished to send all F-22′s to Kor, I used to nickname this girl XB-70; I thought I was once the little escort just there to film the test or sth.  KJAD rapidly improved, the shrimp whale dolphin thing vanished. Creatures.  There were scramjets and that reverse dive-bombing where you climb, thrust-weight ratio, ‘arabesque.’  I used to deliberately mar my English and say ‘I think it’s good idea’ and ‘good form.’  

F-22, I feel like USA trashed their whole continent and now can’t even give good motor-vehicle?  

 Memories of KJY, ‘Black is beautiful?’  Wilberforce.  ‘Confucianism is all about the phallus(?!).’  YOU help them dept. of Maoist time-bomb.  I’ll g to Somalia, Eritrea, one day.  I know these kids have special promise; I too would take measures to make them cute and loveable.  ‘Social form.’  I love Paul Washer - ‘porn = unloving heart’ - kneel before father... but they need good police; I don’t own firearms; I don’t like to exaggerate.  Like in 2012 Doomsday in the end Africa becomes the center o human civilization... I read King Leopold’s Ghost; there was a Georgian Southerner at Beauty School so I got mad at started talking about Gen. Sherman burning down his home turf.  Believe in severity; I wanted to help them but they’re so sure they know sth but they’ve been exploding-heart-ing me since like MS; it’s part of why I just wanted to live in Redlands and write in the office ‘cause I know what they think; my name is like a Confederate general, IDK my own past, supposedly teetotaling Union officer who burned his uniform.  Tory anti-belief-niks... Let’s talk about Myeongnyang, sacrifice, simplicity, the other thing if adult job-opportunities I guess b/c I know all about being educated but underemployed but I’m not Biden; what job can I create?  Just tell them I’ve lived less than I say I’ve lived; ‘creative writing.’  I never made it to Busan, what’s in Busan?  Shanghai never made it.  Let’s talk about ‘10,000 Sorrows,’ abandonment, slavery, honor-killing, church abuses.  Jazz is neither here nor there that I can tell; body-image.  Who’s the most important person in the world today?  What’s God’s will or me?  Just delete my family name?  Of course I like ‘Deep River’ - ‘ugly and destructive’ slavery.  ‘My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord.’  They think I‘m the mark / easy money / sue for punitive damages but I think they’re the marks, ‘maybe so.’  Korea’s not inlating min.-wage; wanna talk about Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison, James Baldwin.  I know a bit about Baldwinian sin-eating like ‘I tell you all my dirty secrets then pretend I didn’t’ - it’s called US mental healthcare system.  I like that poem about the pimp but this poet also shout his mouth off talkig about firing in to crowds of protesters.  ‘Fire Next Time.’  With Covid it could well be; I was telling ex-friend about how there would just be tanks on the street again but I have come to believe I was reading the future by past.  I used to bodybuild in college and eat fish oil every 2 hours so this girl who loves Taeyang saw my fish oils and started crying since she thought they were steroids; ultra-beautiful,Bo probably / hopefully flourishing, modified spelling of the name that means ‘revelation of God.’  But Snoop?  Cardi?  Does their ethos or way of war ever ever ever prevail?  Bonhoeffer learned from the Black church; I loved his poem about feeling strangled in prison.  I wanna raze Milwaukee and build them reasonable apartments with study-desks and stuff; their neighborhoods have a soothing energy.  Someone a deacde back was eating with African-African national leaders who confided, ‘Our whole continent doesn’t have enough wisdom.’  Koreans were buying up farmland in Africa.  I was sad b/c I felt I had a chance; I checked some vaccine-info. now it’s just like in Uieongbu DJJ is some kind of bio-terrorist.  I was fond of DC Sua’s ‘Copycat’ although I backed from all that because it’s infinitely misinterpretable; I thought about ‘Love Only Me,’ now I am like ‘Love Someone Else.’  I felt as if this ought to be a lenten penitent ‘reduced circumstances’ era in remembrance of numerous mistakes, going humbly.  I liked ‘Don’t Waste Your Life Sentence,’ spring nights.  I sometimes feel as if the current POTUS will say all the right things but the drug-laws in past were merciless and what was the point?  But that’s Rome and I’ve no portfolio.  ‘Henry Fish’ my YAL from 2012 - endless sorries- with his 30-dollar military jackets, taped glasses.  ‘Glad and proud to call Obama my president.’  I’ve never voted and don’t intend to except in ‘12 I voted for Obama partly because the psychiatrist and I had a good exchange; now feel that leaving the town hall that ‘pride’ was literal pride, evil, like all these women say, ‘Why would you do that?’  ‘ObaMao.’  I PRC they called him ‘heiren.’  Syria red line ciaccona, Obergefell, strat-patience.  End Iraq then suddenly super-massive investment in modernization of nuclear forces, telling EU to pay more for defense - there’s just not gonna be Heaven on Earth & I am never gonna make it to Venus and I really walk round thinking about camping in ex-NK and I do’t mean like the drama  But he’s a great man too.  ‘Cocaine and cohabitation’ - maybe he really was pace Dreamcatcher beginning of the end, from Hawai’i, ‘From Here to Eternity,’ end of AmCent.  His ‘Amazing Grace.’  I said something really obtuse about Bloomberg, Pete Mayor, Biden; a while ago skimmed ‘Lost Victories’ about the Nazi general who drove tanks through forests and stuff, when is going to fall the sword?  I liked ‘Beethoven was Black,’ Waldstein-III, and 111 is like ‘massive slave rebellion followed by less-tn-expected final affirmation. IZ*ONE ‘Human Love’ (in respect-mode I call it Ahn Yujin and Jo Yuri ‘Human Love’ b/c they were already breaking up the GG) - I thought it was a great moment; a signature.’  Then the ILY3K, marriage bad, uneducated, omni-prostitution unrestricted war CCP-revanchism exceedingly woke but for all I know I’m just a fake cultural Christian. 

[cutegirlmayra]

I have a prompt! How about Amy thinking Blaze and Silver make a great couple (I'm thinking this is probably them in canon-verse where they're both amnesiacs about what happened in 06 but privately feel theres a connection between them/ but this could also be them as long-time buddy-pals if you want) and she's determined to be Silver's wing woman. Bonus points if Sonic and Amy place a bet that Amy can't get them together (you decide the terms :P)

(x This is a wallpaper)

If you’re wanting this ‘canon-wise’ I can try my best for Semi-Canon (In-character with slights au events) if you want? (But I can see Amy matchmaking lol)

Prompt:

Due to an abnormality in the ripples of dimensions, Silver journeyed to meet back up with his old Forces friends and met Blaze; who had recently been flung out of her dimension through a masked-menace that the team suspected was the cause of the abnormalities.

Amy had often been along Silver for various reasons in the researching area of the causes, and noticed how awfully friendly and calm the two were around one another… for a first meeting anyway.

“I’ve found some clues that I think might help.” Blaze folded her arms, angling herself a little away from the two.

Her tail flicked as Silver suddenly walked into the room while Amy was placing the footage she had taken into the computer.

“Wow! He’s able to open rifts so… effortlessly! What’s he’s planning on, anyway..?”

Blaze seemed momentarily distracted, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find meaning in her odd fascination with the white hedgehog. A persistent feeling of comradery kept nagging at her heart, but she disregarded it as Amy saw her—from the corner of her eye—turn away from gawking at him a moment with her scanning expression.

“He is rather elusive…” she stole another glance, curiosity and the strange feeling of warmth for him kept her better judgments out of the way.

“Yes…” Amy side-glanced a look at Silver, minding his own business, before holding back a smile and turning her sights on Blaze once more. “He is, isn’t he.”

She turned away as Silver walked by and up to see the footage. “Definitely has to be technology from my world.” His fists clenched, and Blaze’s eyes widened.

Why was this so… familiar? It’s like she knew his mannerisms by heart… She could play him out in her mind… but why?

“But why?”

When Silver suddenly voiced her thought, she looked away, a little unnerved.

Amy saw her tense avoidance, and pressed her lips together… tighter… as if jumping to assumptions…

“If he’s from my world… there isn’t a reason to cause such destruction in other worlds!” Tormented by the present conundrum at hand, Silver shook his head and placed a hand on it for a moment. He then shifted his eyes to Blaze, where he slowly looked up to her face.

She felt his presence piercing into her soul and shyly caught his observant glance.

The two immediately looked away, breaking eye-contact entirely and hurriedly moving on with tasks at hand.

“A-anyway,… I should look over these data charts more closely.” He scrambled to stack some papers Amy had printed out earlier. “I-I have to understand his connection to dimensional shifts and warping through these shifts into other worlds…” He stampeded, something he usually never did unless nervous.

‘But what was he nervous about?’ Amy couldn’t help but leak her restrained grin.

“Good work… Blaze.” Silver turned his back away once the papers were all together; messily… as they were, but together.

He looked slightly over his shoulder, keeping most of his face from her sight.

She also abruptly moved as if on cue with him, stiffly turning around and briskly heading for the door on a fast, marching walk.

“It’s nothing. I’ve been tracking for years. It’s just my duty. I feel embarrassed my skills aren’t what they used to be.” When he stopped… so did she. Holding her head down, she tried to also look over her shoulder but stopped herself.

A mutual quietness held then as if they both tried to break the time-deleted spell that had infused over them and crushed their memory of their extremely tight friendship.

Without it, they may have, in relief, embraced each other after so long being apart.

But in this moment, the feeling to embrace was adamant. But their memory? Gone.

It pulled so intensely, but the awkwardness of a ‘reunion moment’ they didn’t understand not only plagued their social etiquettes but also their minds and hearts…

They swarmed to find answers, but neither mind nor heart spoke out the answers they were seeking…

“…Good luck.” Silver finally broke the silence, giving up on hoping something would relieve him of his tug-o-war.

“… You too.”

The two held a minute longer. A silent plea for one last attempt at a reply from their being to make sense of this moment and feeling.

Nothing.

“I’ll try and collect more evidence. Amy.” Blaze nodded and looked ahead, trying to fixate her mind on other things.

Silver looked to the floor, as Amy heard the door shut and spun in her chair.

“Okay! Talk!” She excitedly held her hands out and shook them around. “What was THAT?!”

“W-what?” Startled from his depressing-feeling, he saw the papers fly everywhere around him. He held frozen as Amy watched, her excitement never dissipating, at all the papers slowly flapping down through the air.

“Oh, come on! You two clearly have some kind of a connection!”

“C-connection?” Innocent to her words, he suddenly took a more serious stance and hoped Amy would explain what she meant. “What do you mean, connection?”

An excited squee escaped Amy’s lips and she jumped up and down in her chair rhythmically. “I’ve always wanted to see two people falling in love!” She admitted out loud, then clasped her hands together and spun slowly once more in an interval within her chair, letting it do the work of inertia. “And now I see the spark firsthand!”

“The.. spark?” He suddenly realized her accusation and sprung upward, holding himself in the air as he used his powers to frantically avoid her and pick up the papers. “N-nonsense, Amy! T-that can’t be right!”

“Well~ What do you think it is!?” Amy giggled, hands on her lap as she wouldn’t be deterred from her speculation.

“…I had this strange feeling…” Silver looked up as if lost in his own thoughts… feeling he should be honest about it all.

Amy excitedly bounced her shoulders left and right. “Like you knew them all their life?” She dreamily lowered her eyelids as she watched him to say more.

“…Yes.”  Silver clutched the already formed stack in his hands as other papers flew into his hand. His face, far too serious for the topic Amy was thinking of. “Like… I could trust her. As if she was my… partner.”

He had thought Amy screeched, startled even further in the air when she leaped up and grabbed his floating feet.

“Like you’re walking on air!? HAHA!” she danced a moment, making him even more confused.

“N-no…” He reached out for her, before seeing his feet off the ground. “…Oh.” Seeing where she logically may have gotten that idea from, but not entirely what the phrase stands for, he lowered himself embarrassingly back to the floor, looking away.

“Amy, please. You’re making this out a little falsely here… I just felt like I’ve known her or something. Like… we were somehow… close.” He fiddled with the papers. “I can’t explain it… I haven’t met her in my dimension… so there’s no way I could know her… But…”

“But..?~” Amy twirled, slowing down and stopping to look back at him, arching her back like a lovesick looney.

He looked at her with the most tender and innocent eyes….

“I… This feels almost like I’ve missed someone… someone close to me… and had to let them go… only to be seeing them again.”

“…Awho.” Amy cooed, pressing her hands to her chest. She ran up to Silver, taking his arms since his hands were full.

“H-hey..” Silver, nervously, shook left and right to view her oddly placed hands, and then leaned away from her, one foot pulling back while the other tried to slide away.

“Then we’re both soldiers on our path!” She dramatically stated.

“S-soldiers?”

“I’ll help you, Silver! I’ll make sure you get a sweet moment with Blaze!” she then winked, “She’s a princess you know… you tiger!” she lightly threw a fist into his arm but it caused him to stumble.

“T-tiger?… Hold on, Amy… wait!” He was too slow.

Reaching for her, the door had already closed before he realized she didn’t understand him at all.

“I… Oh…” He lowered the hand in disappointment. “Please don’t put yourself out of the way to do something embarrassing… or worse,…. Make it awkward.” He shook his head, having the last of the papers and closing his eyes in a silent prayer for peace.

But Amy was anything BUT a casual gal…

She was an avid planner.

“And then I said I’d help.” Amy finished her plate as Sonic poked around his bowl, keeping his head down.

“And you’re sure he said that.” Sonic, in a bit of skeptical disbelief, looked up at her without moving his head.

“As sure you’re blue.” She quickly chimed back, lifting her head up and closing her eyes. “Now… how to get them alone together..?”

Sonic sighed and let his head drop, leaning up from the table. “Amy… Something tells me you shouldn’t meddle in his business.” Sonic ran his hands through his quills, already seeing Amy playing matchmaker.

“Ohh, but why not? He didn’t oppose…” She looked innocently away. “That’s basically begging me for help!”

“…You shouldn’t judge by those standards.” Sonic leaned back in the chair and dropped his hands, eyeing her a new one. “You should leave it be.” He finally stated.

“Ohhh! You’re no fun!” she popped the spoon into her mouth and tapped her foot, closing her eyes again. “Hmmmm…” she held a long tune before Sonic sighed softly, and then leaned forward to swipe the spoon out of her mouth.

“Ah! Hey!”

“I mean it.” He tossed it by her bowl, placing his arms on the table. “You already planned your whole life. Do you really have to plan everyone else's?” he smiled, teasing her, but still trying to make a point.

She thought a moment….

“Honestly, Sonic. I already told you.” She started, then leaned forward to speak directly to his face. “I’ve got the wedding down. You’ve just gotta show up and smile.” She beamed.

He immediately gave her a no-nonsense frown.

“…If the smile’s too much to ask for, I’ll just take you and those spit-shined red shoes.” She gestured her eyes down and smiled even more charmingly up to him.

He rolled his eyes, moving away.

He placed a hand under his head and leaned on it, lifting a leg up to his knee and letting it tap in the air.

He had given up trying…

Once her mind is set on something, nothing could change that.

“Silence means you’ll be there.~” Amy sprang a quiet tune as she stated that, turning away as if to mimic him but keeping her feet down.

“Now… a perfectly romantic and secluded spot… Ah-ha! I got it!” She slapped the table. “Sonic! I bet you by this time tonight, the two will be in each other’s arms!”

Sonic scoffed to the side. “Heh!”

“I mean it!” Amy gave him a pout back.

“Like nothin’ you will…” Sonic got up, smacking the table to give one last offensive-fighting words to her and her ‘plans’ before walking away.

“Hmmrh. Hmph!” Amy rose up. “If I do-!”

Sonic slowed his pace, turning his head to have his ear listen to whatever this next silliness was…

“..I-if I do, then… Then you’ll embrace me too!” She put her hands stiffly to the side.

“…Heh.” Sonic smirked, scoffing once again at her. “When pig’s fly, Amy.”

“Oh! Would you just-! It’s a bet then?” Amy put her hands to her hips. “That means you have to watch with me!” She shouted out a little louder than Sonic would have hoped.

He bent to his knees and hushed her, motioning his hands down respectively to do so, and looking to make sure no one was around. “Amy..! … ugh. Sure. If you get those lovebirds together, I’ll give you a lasting hug!” He said half-heartedly, still teasing her and flipping his arm out to show he had no faith it would work. “Going off of all your other schemed… planned dates alike, this won’t last more than a day!” He snickered under his breath, trying to make sure no one was listening to them. “Good luck, Amy.”

“Hmph, I’ll show him!” She gathered up their dishes. “I’ll show him that I can too make a perfect date!”

The time came and Blaze was told a special meeting about her latest information on the jumping-culprit needed further questioning and was making her way into the room.

Silver halted by the nicely set table, candles all lit with food already prepared in the pitch black room. “Umm…” He had gotten their moments before her.

She paused, surveyed the area, and then placed a hand on her hip. “A little fancy for a meeting… Did Amy set this up?”

“It… does seem to be her style.” Silver sweat-dropped awkwardly, before looking back at the table. “There seems to be only two chairs… wasn’t Amy attending?”

“Hmm… you’re right.” Blaze came a little more forward, standing beside him. “It would look like she was trying to set-up dinner, let alone a meeting.”

“I would have to confess that that decisive reasoning does seem more accurate…” He took a seat and then gestured for her to do the same. “Regardless of Amy’s fancies,… should we begin?”

“Hmm. Umm... Yes. We should discuss what needs to be clarified. At least… to the best of my abilities.” Blaze gracefully took her seat, as the two began to talk business.

“Ohhh! Why are they both so serious!?” Amy whispered through the crack of an adjacent door.

Sonic leaned on the wall, watching her hunch over and peek inside, and shaking his head as his arms came up in a shrug. “You’ve lost it, Amy. Spying on other people’s affairs… trying to start one… So, is this what you resort to when you’ve nothing else to do but wait for your ‘plans’ to work out for ya?” He adjusted his gloves, pulling them tighter before sticking a toe up and hunching down to mock her, thinking it funny.

“Shhsh! Not like you’re to blame.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and waved a hand for him to stop or come closer, he wasn’t sure which cue it was.

Rolling his eyes, he squatted down and shook his head. “I’m not one for butting in on other people’s affairs.” He seemed less than amused by this game.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down and get in here!” she was referring to him sticking his head to look in at the two.

Sonic just sighed but gave in to ‘proving her wrong’ and looked through the crack, moving under her frame, before narrowing his eyes. “They’re not embracing.” He bluntly stated.

“Look harder!” Amy nudged him and made him a little annoyed, leading to him moving away, standing upright, and peeking above her head.

“That’s incredible! With that kind of device replicated… we could track him through his dimensional jumps and stop him from corrupting each world’s order! To think… he couldn’t rule his own dimension… so he jumped into every other one and kicked the leading figure of authority out to claim his own greed… We’ll stop him!” Silver’s sense of justice came to him as he held up his fist.

“You sure get passionate about doing what’s right,… don’t you?” She smiled, tilting her head.

“…Uhh… I’ve always been like this… for as long as I can remember.” He grew self-conscious and placed his hands together, slouching a bit. “Silly, I know… but it’s who I am. I can’t let injustice go unpunished…”

“…I may not vocalize it,… but I agree with your sentiments.” She nodded to him, and the two held a look for a moment.

Immediately, Blaze’s eyes shifted and she looked away.

“..Blaze.. there’s something else I’d actually like to discuss with you about…” Silver held a grave tone, swallowing, and unsure how to go about this.

Blaze listened in, turning her attention back to him.

“Here we go!” Amy excitedly wagged her tail, which made Sonic look behind him, then look up as if the most ridiculous situation on earth was happening at this very moment, and he was being dragged into it.

He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, moving away. “Ooookay, that’s enough eavesdropping.” He tried to pull her away. “Come on, Amy. Enough’s enough.”

“W-wait, wait! He’s about to say it!”

“Sure he is, Amy.”

“I’ve felt like this for a long time now…”

“……..”

Sonic released Amy, his eyes widened in a bit of perplexed shock.

“Silver?” Blaze tilted her head again and held an equally confused expression, not sure where he was getting at.

“… I’ve felt some form of… missing you. Like I’ve known you for a long time, though we’ve only recently met. I can predict what you’re about to do, what you’ll say… what you’re even thinking sometimes… At first, I thought it could be my abilities enhancing… but I can’t do that with other people. It’s just you. Strange as it sounds… and I know it sounds very… well, odd.. but hear me out, I’m-!”

“N-no! I… understand…” Blaze was amazed at how much emotion she just showed by reaching out and stopping him as he seemed to get flustered.

She moved away, turning to the edge of the table and looking down at the floor. “It’s like a longing… to greet an old friend again… But I have no idea where it sprung from. It’s just…”

They both looked at each other.

“…There.”

“…Could you say it?” He nodded lightly, “What… well, what I think you’re about to say.”

“….About what?” she knew exactly what he meant.

He smiled, letting some air go and release some tension from his body.

“About how much this looks like Amy thinking theirs something more between us.” He lightly chuckled at the fact.

“…Isn’t there?”

He blushed.

“B-but not in the way A-Amy was-!”

“Haha! Oh, Silver…” Her true personality came in at once, teasing him like this… it felt like a breath of fresh air as if she missed this…

He waited, anxious for her to say it.

“I know.” He admitted.

She got up, the same time as him.

“You’re so naïve.”

Silver, as fast as instinct, used his power to float the table away from blocking the two of them as they rushed into a long-awaited embrace.

“I don’t know why this feeling is here.” Silver admitted, holding her close as she dug her head into his shoulder, breathing heavily as to control her emotions.

“But I feel like… whatever it is… it shouldn’t be ignored any longer.”

“Heh.” she smiled wider. “I agree.”

Sonic’s jaw about hit the floor, taking everything they said in the wrong way.

Amy looked up to Sonic, both not realizing the erased memories of a long forgotten realm and adventure.

“Told ya.” She piped up, giddy as a bumblebee when Sonic moved her away from the door and held her tightly in a strong embrace.

“You weren’t kidding.” He huffed out a nervous chuckle. “But you have to admit, for a confession, that was weird.”

“Ohh~ Doesn’t that make it even better?” She turned her face to wiggle into his hold even deeper, crushing her arms against his back to pull him closer, making him sweatdrop again. “Let funny people have their weird, awkward moments together, Sonic! It’s what makes life worth living!”

“Ugh… I’m letting it happen, alright.” Sonic had already let her go, but with the hold Amy had him in, there was no way he was keeping this to a ‘brief’ moment…

(I enjoyed this story :)c Thanks for letting me do more of a canon-central story!)

[incorrectshinraquotes]

Fanfic: Tattoo

Summary: Elena wakes up one morning and finds a strange tattoo on her arm. Soulmate AU, kinda.

Main Characters: Elena, Rufus

Ships: Elena/Rufus

Also read on: Fanfiction.net   AO3

That morning was typical. I got up at 6 a.m. like I always did, made myself a cup of coffee, and got in the shower. As I was showering, I noticed my arm had a tattoo of flower designs on it. They started at my right wrist and wove all the way up to my elbow. They looked like ink drawings, like when someone gets so bored and the only surface they have to draw on is their arm. It was a very elegant pattern, but I was confused as to how the tattoo got there. I hadn't been drinking or anything the night before. I was home all evening. And the markings didn't hurt, they were just… there.

I tried scrubbing the tattoo off my arm, but it wouldn't fade. Eventually, I decided to just ignore it and get ready for work; I would be late if I spent any more time trying to get the ink off.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I brushed my hair, put some pants on, and as I was pulling my white button-up shirt on, I noticed new markings appear on my arm.

Meeting with Tseng 10 a.m, discuss Elena's recent performance issues.

What?

I stared at my arm for a good five minutes, evaluating the words. Why were they there and what were they supposed to mean? It was almost as if someone were writing reminders on their arm and the note were transferring to my arm. But if that were the case, how did that person know both Tseng and myself? Why were they planning on speaking with Tseng about my performance issues. Sure, I've made a few mistakes on missions recently, but I was nervous and distracted! I've been a Turk for only a few months and I've been trying very hard to prove myself. Sure, my weaknesses are inexcusable, but I don't feel like my mistakes should cost me my job.

The only person I can think of that would have a meeting like that with Tseng is Rufus Shinra, but he doesn't seem like the type of person to write notes on his arm. Or doodle flower patterns… The whole situation just didn't add up.

I shook all my thoughts away from my head. I would solve this whole tattoo mystery later. I was running late for work.

When I got to the office, I headed straight for the break room, determined to get my hands on some more coffee. The entire commute to work was spent theorizing about the strange markings on my arm. Naturally, I came to so many conclusions that I might as well have none. Luckily for me, my Turk uniform covered up my arm, so all the doodles on my arm wouldn't look unprofessional in front of my coworkers.

I entered the break room, noticing how my three fellow Turks were all gathered there as well.

"Good morning everyone," I said in my most cheerful voice. Nothing was on my mind. Nothing at all.

Reno looked over at me, confusion on his face. "How the hell are you so chipper in the mornings?"

I shrugged and nudged him out of the way of the coffee machine. Filling up a paper cup with the drink, plus some cream, I was content.

I could feel Reno's eyes on me the entire time I was making my coffee. I chose to ignore it, seeing as how Reno always had a habit of staring at people he was trying to figure out. I had taken a sip of my coffee and set the cup down, about to ask our commander if there were any missions today, when Reno grabbed my arm and pulled the sleeve back, studying the flower designs that were still prominently there in blue ink and the word in a contrasting black. He chuckled to himself and released my arm. "Get bored on your drive here?"

I pulled my arm protectively against my chest and glared at him.

"No," I said defensively, "They just showed up this morning."

That last part I said in more of a concerned whisper.

Reno chuckled again and took a sip of his coffee, shaking his head.

"What do you know?" I accused. He wasn't telling me something.

Reno ignored me and watched as our commander headed towards the door.

"Going somewhere, Chief?"

"I have a meeting with Rufus," Tseng said calmly, "I'll be back before too long. Make yourselfes busy in the meantime."

I checked my PHS, noticing that the time was 9:45. So that reminder on my arm was written by Rufus. His handwriting was a lot more… average than I imagined it to be. Simple printed letters, very unlike the elegant cursive I imagined he wrote in. But why were Rufus's reminders on my arm?

"You think they're going to talk about you, like it says on your arm?" Reno asked from over my shoulder. I jumped slightly, forgetting that anyone else was in the room.

I looked at Reno in a manner that I hoped said "tell me what you know, or else."

"Ok, look," Reno started, holding his hands up defensively, "I didn't wanna say anything because its probably not true, but I've heard of people who, when they meet their soulmate, whatever their soulmate writes on their skin, it shows up on the other person's skin."

"Say what now?" He sounded totally crazy!

"Look, I'm not saying its true. I've just heard rumors of it happening."

"So you're saying Rufus Shinra is my should mate? And that he draws on his arm when he gets bored?"

"Not gonna lie, I didn't know that last part. Only way to find out is to look at his arm and see if it's the same."

"What if I wrote on my skin? Would it show up on his?"

Reno shrugged, "Don't think so. I think it's a one way thing."

I sighed. I really didn't want to confront Rufus, especially not about something so… trivial? Childish? It sounded ridiculous is what it sounded like. Rufus would probably laugh at me, show me that nothing was written on his perfect skin, and fire me because of the meeting he had with Tseng. Nothing good could come out of this confrontation.

I waited an hour after Tseng got back from his meeting to walk myself up to Rufus's office. The elevator ride seemed to take forever, even though it was only about ten floors.

I stopped by the secretary's office and asked her to let Rufus know I was there. I wouldn't tell her the reasoning, but she didn't question it. She recognized me as a Turk and knew not to ask too many questions, a fact I greatly appreciated.

As soon as she told me I could go up, I walked with purpose up the stairs and to the metal, air-locked doors that would lead to Rufus's office. They opened the second I reached them.

As I strode into the office, I was taken aback. I had never actually been there. It was plain elegant. Black and white metals for the desk and a bar in on corner. It must have taken a lot of work to change the office from President Shinra's gaudy style to this.

I heard Rufus clear his throat and I realized I had been standing in the middle of the room, looking around, transfixed in my own little world. I stepped forward and, per Rufus's request, I sat down in one of the black leather chairs in front of his desk.

"What brings you here, Elena?"

I was utterly stumped at the question. How did I explain the weird tattoos on my arm? I stared at him for a moment, probably looking like a deer in headlights.

"Well?"

I shook my head a regained my compostre. "W-well…" I managed to stammer out. This was going to be a lot more difficult that I thought it would be.

"Ok, well, you see, I was talking with Reno and he said that I should talk with you because a really weird thing happened to me this morning. I was in the shower—"

"Elena, I really don't need to know much about your personal life. I'm believe any advice from Reno should be wisely ignored."

"No, you don't get it, look at this!" Without hesitation, I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket and showed Rufus the markings on my arm. Rufus furrowed his brow and studied my arm, obviously perplexed.

"Elena, I don't—"

I interrupted him, "Look, I know this is stuff you've been writing on your arm because Tseng said he had a meeting with you and it was at the exact time that this note says that a meeting with Tseng was going to take place and Reno said it was some kind of weird soulmate thing and I don't know if I completely believe that but I can't ignore the markings on my arm, like they're there, and I just—"

"Elena," Rufus looked at me with a look that clearly said I needed to stop talking. "I admit that this is very strange, but I highly doubt this connects us in any…" he was choosing his words carefully, "romantic way."

"Maybe not, but I just thought it was something I should point out."

Rufus looked thoughtful, studying the drawings on my arm. When he finally looked at me, he smirked. "Well, I appreciate that."

"Yeah…" The conversation got awkward because I had nothing else to say, so I did what I always do in awkward situations: I said the first thing that came to mind, "Why were you and Tseng talking about me?"

I could have phrased that more elegantly, but Rufus just chuckled. "I promise, it wasn't as bad as the reminder on my arm makes it sound."

I nod. That's an acceptable answer I guess. I have a feeling I won't get a more detailed answer from him.

And again, the conversation grows awkward and I blurt out the next thing on my mind: "Why do you draw flowers on your arm?"

I can see a tinge of pink on Rufus's cheeks. I'm sure that was something he thought no one would ever find out about. Now he was the one who looked like a deer in headlights. One point to Elena for catching President Rufus Shinra off-guard.

Rufus cleared his throat and regained his composure, "I just always find myself drawing them. I like the simplicity of the patterns."

"They're really pretty." I say, still not thinking about what's coming out of my mouth.

I can tell Rufus doesn't know what to say. I give myself another point for that.

"Let's just keep this between us, shall we?" He finally says, still obviously a little embarrassed. I nod in agreement, despite the fact that Reno already knows.

I got home that night, much later than I had intended. I decided to stay late at work to get some extra papers filed and I was ready to pass out the second I walked through my door.

I noticed as I was changing my shirt that the ink on my arm had faded considerably. Rufus must have washed it off earlier.

After eating a quick dinner and watching a few epicodes of a TV show I liked, I headed to my bedroom and climbed under the covers on my bed. I looked at my arm again, still baffled by how strange that whole situation was. I noticed that a fresh set of words were written on my wrist:

Goodnight, Elena.

I smiled to myself and turned off the light on my nightstand. I know Rufus said there was no connection between us because of this, but maybe he was wrong about that. Maybe he could end up being my soulmate.

[tinamaetales]

Hero

3rd K Drama: W - Two Worlds

Why do all the K Dramas that I watched have to be so good? I’m having a hard time moving on from them! This time, I watched W-Two Worlds and it was one heck of a roller coaster ride. The concept, for me, was fresh and really creative. The way the story unfolds, too, was awesome! You just can’t predict what’s gonna happen next and it sometimes frustrates the heck out of me coz what if my fave character dies? You don’t do that to me! Anyway, the number one reason why I watched it is because of Lee Jong Suk (I really have a huge crush on him! OMG ♥) and as expected, he gave an amazing performance. Him as Kang Chul is just sooooo perfect! 

 Synopsis:

W is one of Korea’s best selling comic books; it has been a best seller for seven years. Its lead character, Kang Chul, was considered as the icon of justice. Its seven year run was coming to an end smoothly until one night, while working on its finale, its author, Oh Sung Moo disappeared without any trace. Just when his staff is panicking since they have to make it to the deadline, his daughter Oh Yeon Joo, a cardiothoracic surgeon, visited their work place. Su Bong, the author’s assistant, informed Yeon Joo about what happened to her father. They’ve decided to go to his working room and they saw the last scene that he was working on which is Kang Chul lying on the floor bathing in his own blood. When Yeon Joo was left alone in his father’s work place, a hand reached for her and in that moment she was summoned inside Kang Chul’s world. Since she’s a doctor, she saved Kang Chul. And since then, she can be summoned inside the comic world and will only have the chance to go back to the real world when there’s a change in the emotions of Kang Chul.

The question is, why?

What draws me into this K Drama is the uniqueness of its plot (plus of course, Lee Jong Suk!) but what made me stay (and become obsessed, lol) is how Kang Chul fights for his right to stay alive. I don’t know man, but characters like him make me feel somehow not alone (if that’s the right way to say it). You see, Kang Chul is a manhwa character so it means that he has a creator and that creator is the one calling the dibs in his life (the creator is the one to decide what will happen in his life) however, he decided to fight for his happiness regardless of how hard that battle would be. This topic will lead me back to the concept of predestination and free will (something that I’ve discussed in my Goblin blog post as well) that as you all know by now is sensitive, tricky and confusing for me. Kang Chul may be a lead character of someone else’s story but since he became a “real” person of his own, he has the right to fight for his life. Just like me, I may be born with a fate already written but I was also given a free will that gives me the liberty to do things my way and change the course of my fate. Gosh, it is really hard for me to discuss that topic cause I might just end up offending people.

Anyway, all I want to say is that I can relate to Kang Chul when it comes to life struggles – fighting for your chance at life despite having a lot of external forces going against you.

Here’s more about Kang Chul:

Kang Chul’s story began when he was only 17 years old and already represented South Korea in the Olympics; he is a sharp shooter. Having won the gold medal at the Athens Olympics, he became famous in his country. Years later he decided to study Computer Science instead of continuing his career as an athlete which lead to some misunderstandings he have with his father who was also his coach. One night, his entire family was killed while he was away by an unknown gunman. Further investigation happened and it leads to accusing Kang Chul as the suspect since the gun used for the killing was the gun he used at the Olympics. He was convicted guilty of a crime he did not commit in the first place. He was imprisoned for two years. After being released from prison, he continued living a horrible life since everyone dislikes him and considers him a murderer despite the lack of evidence. He got fed up with living a life as if he’s an outcast so he decided to kill himself by jumping off a bridge. He jumped, but on the last second he reconsiders; he realizes that he just can’t let things end this way. He has yet to find the real murderer who killed his entire family. From then on, his life has changed.

However, that plot twist was not what the author has planned.

At first, he thought he was just drunk when he finished drawing Kang Chul’s death that in the morning when he reviewed his work, it changes to Kang Chul still hanging on the bridge fighting for his life. But then, as he continues to draw, Kang Chul seems to have a mind of his own and started making his own decisions. It seems like he’s the one writing his own story and not the author and it terrifies his author so much until one day, he decided to finally kill his main character.

I guess what made Kang Chul “survived” the series of death being brought to him is his desperation to get the justice that his family deserves. It is his willingness to get that justice that led for his life to change for the better. It might have been a typical “rags to riches” story but I loved it (and he deserves it!). It seems like as he search for justice, he was able to find himself as well. He became a successful businessman. He also created a tv show with the title “W” which stands for Who and Why in order to solve different cases (which of course would include investigating the mystery behind his family’s death). A lot of people have benefitted from Kang Chul’s success too since the companies he established (including the tv show) provided employment. And let’s also add to the fact that he became an inspiration to many since he was able to rise from such a tragic past. I love that he made the phrase “When you hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up” oh so true! However, despite all of that, the justice for his family seems elusive. He helped solve other people’s cases and yet his family’s death remains a mystery. Life really is cruel.

By looking at just the manhwa’s story line, of course it is obvious that Kang Chul deserves a happy ending. He’s a hero in his own right. He deserves the justice he’s been seeking for his family for so many years since it is also through him that the others were able to find justice. However, if we will look at the situation on the perspective of the author, Kang Chul’s a bit scary. I mean, come on, he’s just a product of the author’s imagination and yet he started to “develop” having a mind of his own. It really is terrifying and frustrating on the part of the author although I find it quite unfair that his only solution for this is to kill the main character….I mean perhaps there’s other ways to do it? THERE SHOULD BE! And when there seems to be no way…fate created one for Kang Chul (because he really is deserving of a happy ending!) by allowing the barriers that separates the two universes to “fall down” making it possible for him to be saved by someone from the real world – the author’s daughter. I love how from then on, the story took a great twist that made it more exciting to watch. I love how it keeps on making me ask questions like, “How the hell he ends up becoming real?” “Why did he start having a ‘free will’ when he’s just a product of the author’s imagination?” “Why did the fictional world suddenly became connected to the real world?” “Is Yeon Joo the only real human that can enter the world of W?” “When will she enter again and how will she get out?” and finally, “Why is the author so afraid of him? Is he dangerous?” Gosh, it was just so exciting! As I’ve said, this is a really unpredictable drama – it just keeps you guessing until the end.

There are three kinds of “fighting” in this drama, the main character who fights for his right to stay alive, the author who fights with his main character’s fate in order to kill him (I really can’t think of any other way to describe it) and the author’s daughter who fights to save Kang Chul. And all three has their own reasons. Like what we say in Filipino, kapag nasa katwiran, ipaglaban mo! (If you’re in reason, fight for it). Kang Chul wants to live for he has yet to get the justice for his family. The author wants to kill Kang Chul for he’s scared of him already. He’s afraid of what more he is capable of doing since it already feels like he can’t control him anymore. He even has a copy of Goya’s painting “Saturn Devouring His Son” and on the back of the picture the phrase “Rather than be devoured, I will devour” was written. And when confronted by his daughter about killing Kang Chul he replied with “You said it was murder? I drew it. It’s my project! So in my project I am god, because I created everything! How can a god destroying his creation be murder?! That’s not murder; it’s judgment. He’s a monster. I didn’t know it at first, but I had created a monster. So I decided to bring judgment upon him, because he was a malformed creation. How can I leave him be, when I’m about to be devoured? I should’ve ended him right away, there on the bridge.” By then, we can really feel his fear and frustration…I can’t even say that I hate him for that. I sort of understand where he is coming from. Then there’s Yeon Joo who keeps on showing up every time Kang Chul’s in danger. At first, she’s doing it because she’s also a fan of the comic series and likes Kang Chul but as time goes by, and she was able to get to know Kang Chul more, she realizes that he is a human being too and he deserves to live.  

Anyway, what made me love it more is that in the end (spoiler alert, sorry!) Kang Chul’s still the one who decides on his fate. He has the last say. He created his own version of a happy ending. In the end, he proved them wrong. He had the chance to kill his author but he didn’t. In fact, when he was trying to kill himself, it was Kang Chul who saved him – the character that he wants to kill for he’s afraid that he will kill him ended up being the one to save his life. I love how Kang Chul continued to fight for his life that in the end, he got the happy ending that he deserves. His fight can serve as an inspiration to us that we can change our lives as long as we are willing to fight for it, sacrifice a lot and face the consequences that will come along with it. I guess we are all Kang Chul? I mean there’s a Kang Chul in all of us – the Kang Chul who fights for his right to be happy, the Kang Chul who is a hero of his own story.

 How I wish I can be half the fighter that Kang Chul is then maybe somehow I could also change my fate.

 X,

TinaMae

[trbl-will-find-me]

Every Exit, An Entrance 5/?

There are two (and only two) possibilities: either she led XCOM to victory and they are now engaged in a clean up operation of alien forces, or XCOM was overrun, clearing the way for an alien-controlled puppet government to seize control of the planet.

She’d really like to figure out which it is, but asking hardly seems the prudent option. Chapter CW: Explicit mention of suicide, no character death

She’s on her way to Mission Control when Royston flags her down with a piece of paper reading “HELP.” With the operative on the phone, she can only manage to shrug and mouth “What’s wrong?”

Royston rests the phone on her shoulder, jots down a note on the reverse of the page, and holds it up again: Parents.

The Commander motions for the paper and pencil, scribbling down her own response: Not happy w/ news?

Again, a transference of supplies.

Understatement, written in thick letters and underlined.

Why?

B/c “can’t marry someone you’ve only known since March.”

The Commander grimaces. She can appreciate Royston’s parents’ concern, but they have no idea what their daughter’s relationship has already endured. Oh brother, she writes back.

End me. Please.

Think Martin might be upset.

What makes you think his parents took it any better?

The Commander’s eyebrows shoot up and the other woman nods. There was shouting, she writes. A lot of it.

??

Nine months. Not French. Where live. Etc. You could mercy kill us both.

And then Central would kill me. Very bloody.

Royston shrugs, then nods.

Tell her you have to go, your CO needs you.

“Mom, mom, mom,” Royston says. “Mom, I love you, but we gotta table this. Mom, yes, I hear you. Mom, I gotta … Mom, duty … Mom, I love --- Mom, I’ll call you back. We’ve got a meeting. Yeah, the Commander is right here. She’s literally standing right here. Tapping her foot. You want me to put her on? No? Okay, good. Love you.” She sets down the phone and shakes her head. “Eloping is starting to look like a viable option,” she says, turning her attention to the Commander. “Skip all the bullshit.”

“You’d really want to cut them out?”

Royston shrugs. “I want to get married to the person I want to get married to where and how I want. We want,” she corrects herself. “If that means cutting them out, then, well. We’ll have a nice reception breakfast or something to make it up to them.”

“You’re resourceful people,” the Commander offers. “You’ll figure it out.”

“Part of me just wants to say fuck it and just do it here.”

“The base? It’s not exactly a scenic venue, Royston.”

“Yeah, but it’s one where we can’t invite anyone. Besides, everyone’s already here.“

“No friends on the outside?”

“I mean, yeah, but … “ She’s quiet for a minute. “These are the people we went through hell with. They’re the ones who watched this all happen, who,” she laughs. “Facilitated when we couldn’t get it together. They’re the ones who matter.”

The Commander considers this for a moment. “Well, think about it. If that’s really what you want, you’ve got my support.”

“Really?”

She shrugs. “I don’t totally endorse giant metal bunker as a wedding venue, but it’s not my wedding. If this is really where you want to have it, we’ll find a way.”

A crazy grin breaks out across Royston’s face. “Can I get back to you?”

“Yeah. It’s an open offer.”

“Thanks, Commander,” the sniper says, standing, “Let’s go see if I can sell him on this.”

“Good luck,” she grins. “I’ll be upstairs.”

Watching the operative head towards quarters, it finally dawns on her that she’ll need to explain this to Central. She laughs, and buries her face in her hands. It’s not the worst problem to have.

-- Kelly aims her shotgun at the Sectoid and pulls the trigger, splattering its blood across the ground.

“Good job, Menace. Looks like you’re clear on hostiles for the moment. Finish tagging those crates and let’s get you home,” the Commander says.

“Yes, ma’am!” Gunda calls cheerfully.

On the whole, it’s been a clean op. They’ve netted badly needed medical and construction supplies as well as, she hopes, additional intel from two datapads lifted from corpses. She doesn’t necessarily bear any confidence in her skills, but she’s at least comforted by the slow improvement in her men’s aim.

The air lifts in from Firebrand continue through the afternoon, and the unboxing well into the evening. Lily’s workshop slowly wills with new components and datapads to be reformatted, scrubbed clean of ADVENT programming. Tygan seems pleased to have his cabinets restocked, and everyone is grateful for new clothing, the abundance of toiletries, and the not insignificant ammo cache. The Armory looks more like a warehouse than Christmas morning, but the sentiment remains the same.

--

They’re eating dinner in the Situation Room, data on the energy spikes from the past week spread out in front of them. Each spike is pinpointed on the screen, along with a time, date, and amplitude. Save for the common link of alien incursions, there is no commonality. No consistent interval. While she has no doubt that there is a pattern, the more she stares, the more random it appears.

“Ugh,” she groans, burying her head in her hands. “What am I missing?”

“Commander,” Central says, voice gentle.

“There has to be something.”

“Commander.”

“We can’t get caught off guard again.”

“Commander.”

“We can’t afford a repeat of that site recon incident.”

“Elizabeth.”

“I hate to use the phrase ‘we got lucky’ when we lost an entire town, a Coast Guard team, and half of our squad –because that feels gauche– but ---“

“Lizzie.”

It’s enough to jar her from her train of thought. ”John?”

“You couldn’t have seen it coming. None of us could have. Chryssalids in a whale carcass on a fishing vessel? Come on. It ran counter to all the data we had.”

“There had to have been something I missed. We knew they could incubate in human hosts; it wasn’t a stretch to think they could take root in other mammals.”

“But we didn’t have evidence for it. You’re a good strategist, but even you’re not omniscient.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “We’ve had too many close calls. I’d like to get out in front before we have another.”

“If there’s a pattern, you’ll figure it out. And that’s a big if.”

“And what if I can’t?” She asks, voice tinged with worry. “What if I can’t put it together and they come barging down our door again?”

“It’s not gonna happen.”

“You seem awfully certain of that.”

“Molchetti knocked the ship out of existence. The clean up ops we’ve run have been a few stray craft, or a cell that’s broken cover. They’ve been small.”

“What if they’re just biding their time, trying to lull us into a sense of security?”

“We’ll push them back again. We always find a way.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“Not faith. Evidence. You’ve got a track record now.”

She tips her head against his shoulder. “Well, you may start doubting that track record pretty soon.”

“Doubtful.”

She takes a deep breath, as if she were preparing to rip off a bandaid. “I volunteered the base as a wedding venue.”

He looks down at her with the same face he’d made when she’d jumped in the pool outside of Rome, that same mix of profound amusement and utter bewilderment. “We’re not exactly a chapel. And we can’t allow non-XCOM personnel on the premises.”

“That was a large part of the appeal, I think.”

“Royston and Martin?”

She nods. “Between them, they’ve got four very angry parents.”

“Expected that from Martin’s family, not Royston’s.”

“Royston’s mother went to town on her on the phone this afternoon. Martin apparently got a tongue lashing via video chat. “

Central rolls his eyes. “It’s not like they’re kids.”

“The nine months thing seems to be a sticking point. Along with the whole where will you live, where will you raise our grandchildren, and Royston’s not French debacles.”

“In short, everything.”

She shrugs. “Just about. Royston joked about having the wedding here as a solution, but the more she talked, the more she seemed to sell herself on the idea. I couldn’t tell her no. We’ll see how well it goes over with Martin.”

“And if he says yes?”

“Guess we’ll have to requisition an awful lot of crepe paper.” She settles her head back against his shoulder. “We’re not gonna make any progress on this tonight, are we?”

He shakes his head. “No, but it’s okay. It’ll look better when you stop chewing on it.”

They stay like that a few minutes, comfortable in the silence.

“Hey,” he finally says. “When all of this is over, you wanna get dinner sometime?”

She grins. “There’s a laundry list of things I’d like to do, but yeah, dinner sounds like a good start.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

She leans into him. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

--

If her time in the tank dulled anything, it is her ability to estimate the risk of interpersonal disaster. They had both been in the bar, fine. They’d had buffers, people who’d kept them engaged and occupied and otherwise uninterested in one another. She should have followed them out, should have gone up to her quarters, and taken a hot shower and gone to bed. She should not have sat across the bar from Central, nursing a beer while she reviewed the contents of the day’s grab. It was asking for trouble; this, of all things, she knows.

She doesn’t know what she expected. More silence? An attempt at conversation, maybe?

It’s not like her to miss the mark this badly.

“How could you do it, Lizzie? How could you help those things?” He asks, cracking open another bottle.

The accusation cuts deeper than she’s willing to let show. “You really think I said ‘sure, stick some chip in my head, throw me in a suit, and then stick the suit in a tank’? You think I didn’t try fighting?”

“Sure as hell doesn’t seem like it.”

She can feel tears welling behind her eyes, and she rubs at one, hoping to pass it off as an itch. “I didn’t have a whole lot of chances, Central. Any time I was awake and had any control over my own body, it was pretty well restrained. No one was exactly dumb enough to leave a scalpel in my reach. If I could have ended it or them, I would have. In a heartbeat.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he takes a sip. “You didn’t.”

“You can’t will yourself to death, not without some kind of help.”

“Even if you had the means, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“You think, if I knew what was coming, you honestly think I wouldn’t have turned the gun on myself when they went for me?

“Twenty years, you never made a go of it.”

“What, you want me to go slit my wrists in the shower to atone for it? Or, hell, you’ve got at least two pistols on you. Put your money where your mouth is.”

“No, that’s what they want. You’re a traitor, but you’re a useful traitor.”

“They used my own memories against me!”

“Twenty years! You know how much blood you have on your hands?”

“You’re not the only one who lost everybody!”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who had to watch as you helped kill them!”

It’s only then that she realizes it’s escalated into shouting. Loud voices. Metal ship. It’s really no surprise that most of the crew is crowded near the entrance to the bar. She can make out Shen and Herlihy, Kelly and Wallace, Royston and Krieger. She can almost see Thomas’s ridiculous braid over Wallace’s head, and she’s almost certain that’s Gunda next to him, with Tygan to his other side.

“Alright,” she says, turning her attention to the gathered crowd. “Everybody in. We’re gonna get this all out on the table. I’d rather it not feed the gossip mill.” She can feel Central’s eyes on her, but she won’t meet his gaze. She needs to keep her composure.

The assembled mass files in, taking positions along the wall and on the floor. It’s more than she realized, nearly the whole crew by her count. She wants nothing more than to disappear into the ether, crawl into bed and ignore the storm that’s broken over the ship.

“Everybody here? Good. Let’s get the record straight. When the XCOM base was overrun, I was taken. I had a Muton with a plasma rifle surprise me with a blow to the head that, yes, probably should have killed me and, yes, I do ask myself how and why it didn’t. I don’t have a coherent set of memories from the time I was captive. What I’ve got is fragmented and messy and … not pleasant to think about. “ She heaves a sigh.

“That being said, if you have questions about it, I’d rather you just asked me. What’s important to know is that, over the course of my time with the aliens, they implanted me with a chip, and passed tactical data through me. I was, quite literally, wetware. You can ask Doctor Tygan for the specifics --- he’ll be able to give you a more coherent explanation.” She pauses, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“For me, once I was sedated, I had no idea what I was experiencing wasn’t real. They were able to pull from my own memories of the invasion and first iteration of XCOM. The closest thing I can compare it to is a dream where everything makes sense, where there aren’t weird loopholes.” She swallows.

“Yes, the data they passed through me was used in their military ops against earth and later resistance forces.  Yes, I am profoundly disturbed by that fact. No, I didn’t have a conscious say in the matter. The chip has since been removed, there is no additional ADVENT hardware in me, and I will put a bullet in my own head before I let them recapture me.” She runs a hand through her hair.

“I welcome any comments, questions, concerns, what have you. This is standing policy You have a question you want answered, I’d rather you come to me. If I can’t answer it, I’ll direct you to whoever can. Anything immediate?”

“How’d they get it out?” Gunda asks.

“Same way it went in: incision in the soft palette and then cranial intrusion and extraction.”

“That sounds awful.”

“I don’t really recommend it.”

“Are you sure everything’s out?” Krieger chimes in. “You said you don’t remember it all.”

“Our contact in the Resistance was able to secure a technical schematic, and ensure its accuracy. It shows only one chip.”

“ADVENT tech gives off a recognizable signal,” Lily adds. “There’s nothing coming from the Commander.”

“Is there anything else that’s pressing?”

Silence.

“Fine. As I’ve said, if you have questions, it’s an open door policy. Dismissed.”

She watches the men and women under her command stand, and file out, grateful that the looks they offer her are more sympathetic than suspicious. ROV-R bobs nearby, offering a sad chirp as she joins the procession.

“Shen, Tygan, a minute?” She asks, gesturing them off to the side of the small corridor.

“First,” she begins, quietly. “I’d like to apologize for dragging you both into this mess. This was something Central and I should have kept between ourselves and we didn’t. In doing so, we flagged the whole damn crew, and the damage control has ballooned appropriately.”

“Second, I’d like to reassure you both that Central and I will … get our shit together, for want of a better term, and learn to behave like professionals. This won’t happen again.”

Over Tygan’s shoulder, she watches Royston turn, as if to go back into the bar, but be stopped by a shake of Kelly’s head, and thanks whatever powers that be. No one needs an encore of shouting.

“It’s not a problem, Commander,” Tygan says. “I anticipated there would be questions when the news broke outside of the senior staff.”

“It’s fine,” Lily says. “Just … if you two are gonna shout each other down, maybe not at 1:30 in the morning?”

The Commander nods. “You have my word.”

She mounts the ladder and climbs, then crosses through the bridge, and up to her quarters. She wants to scream, or throw something, or down too much liquor. She wants to do something stupid and reckless. Idly, the idea of just venturing back to the bar and settling things the old fashioned way, with blood and skin and broken bones, floats through her mind. She chases it away, knowing full well it won’t help – and it’s hardly the sort of professional coexistence she’s promised.

Besides, she doesn’t relish the idea of a broken nose.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Ties Between Heath and Boots

So we have more observations from the wonderful @wdway today. First let me apologize. I meant to cover both a Heath theory and a Rachel theory in this post but I ended up having a very limited amount of time to write this, so I’m just doing Heath today. I’ll do the Rachel theory, still, but maybe not until next week.

**Also a word of warning: I’ll be talking about some spoilers in this post, so if you don’t want to know, don’t read.**

The main thing that @wdway noticed about Heath was something I totally didn’t connect. Remember in my original analysis, I talked about him and Tara standing atop the green dumpsters, which can be linked to Glenn. Then Heath jumps down, and the thing I zeroed in on was the beer bottle, which he picks up and throws. We, of course, always link alcohol to Still. But check this out:

This is an angle on Heath’s feet when he jumps down from the dumpster:

This is an angle of Boots in ep 7x08 when whoever it is jumps out of the tree (I’ve lightened it significantly):

Can that possibly be a coincidence? And understand that neither @wdway or I think Boots is Heath. Not at all. Why would he spy on Alexandria? He’d just go home, as Tara did. But this is definitely something that’s being paralleled.

So let me just say this (and this is based wholly on spoilers so again, you’ve been warned): spoilers say Boots is a member of the junkyard community that will be introduced fairly early on in 7b. So let me just throw a guess out there that the junkyard community are the ones who took Heath. If they had him and caught site of Tara, they could have followed her back to Alexandria. Hence Boots watching at the end of 7x08. It makes a certain logistical sense.

It’s weird because both communities—Oceanside and what little we’ve seen of the junk yard (basically just Boots) have been heavy on the Beth symbolism. 

But she can’t come through both places at once, right? But if the theory I posted yesterday, based on @wdway’s observations about the unexplained dialogue in 7x06 ends up being the case (or some iteration of it) then Beth may conceivably have already gone through Oceanside, but may reappear for TF at the junk yard. Total conjecture of course, but it’s a possibility.

@wdway also suggests that since everything about Heath’s arc here is about his and Tara’s two-week run, and he uses that phrase constantly (two-week run) that maybe that’s a clue to when Heath will return. Two weeks = 14 days, so maybe we’ll see Heath again in ep 14. That actually makes a lot of sense. All the spoiler site has said is that we won’t see him again until near the end of the season, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the season finale. Just one of the last episodes somewhere. And I hope this pans out for one specific reason: it would show that they do symbolism like this for other characters. I’ve said this many times before, but I know they do this for all story lines, but the only ones we pay attention to are the ones that revolve around Beth/Bethyl. So the haters like to accuse us of seeing things that aren’t there or over-attributing. In some cases, they’re probably right, but I firmly believe that if each character’s mega-fans paid as close attention to symbolism as we do, they’d see it around every character and storyline.

Okay, couple of other details and then I’ll have to quite for today. @wdway noticed that we get a great shot of bone-handled knife Heath is wearing. 

Yeah, that’s a lot like Beth’s. It’s not actually Beth’s knife, of course, but it’s a lot like hers. And I maintain that Heath’s random disappearance is the best, closest parallel of Beth’s arc that we’ve had in S7.

Finally, she noticed this in the background:

On this jeep is a green figure, right next to the door. She thought it looked either like a W or perhaps a castle. I can’t tell what it is for sure either. It’s a background detail and quite fuzzy. But something else I noticed while watching this part: look at this walker’s forehead.

He has some really interesting grooves in his forehead exactly where the wolves carve their Ws. And it doesn’t actually look like a W; just similar to the wolf scars. But I think this could possibly be a wolf reference. If that’s the case, the green thing on the jeep is probably a W, just to reinforce the symbolism. But hey, I could be wrong. Just musing over here.

What do all of you see? Think it’s a W? Or more like a castle? Reference to the Kingdom perhaps? (I’m also reminded of this castle-like figure Daryl stares at in Dwight’s room). 

And of course the W-thing on the jeep is green. Just sayin’. 

Everyone have a fantastic Thursday!

[angrycollectordaze-me-blog]

作业代写：The art of criticism

下面为大家整理一篇优秀的paper代写范文- The art of criticism，供大家参考学习，这篇论文讨论了批评的艺术。一个人在成长道路上出现错误在所难免，因此，相应的批评就显得尤为重要。批评是通过语言、行为劝导和影响人们的一种教育方法，它对人们的错误、匮乏的思想行为给予否定性的评价，其根本的目的是触动人们的灵魂，引起人们对自己所犯错误的深层次反省，使人们扬起改正缺点和错误的风帆，提升他们明辨是非的能力，从而使其树立正确的价值观、人生观。

A person on the growth path error is inevitable, therefore, the corresponding criticism is particularly important. Criticism is through language and behavior to persuade students, students of a method of education on students' errors, want to give negative evaluation, the thoughts and actions of its fundamental purpose is to touch the soul of students, causes the student to deep introspection of his mistakes and make the student raise of shortcomings and mistakes, improve their ability to distinguish right from wrong, making it set up the correct values, outlook on life, healthy life into orbit.

But in the process of practical education, often appear the phenomenon of "his sincere", its main reason is that the teacher did not carefully weigh up the students' psychology, failed to grasp the critical techniques of the student, the phrase is too rigid, appear serious confrontation between teachers and students, lead to "light is invalid, medicines or wounding" consequences. If the teacher can do magny cours, xiao zhi Daniel, proper and appropriate, art criticism, can have unexpected effect of education, make criticism truly inspire students heart key.

People have feelings, all criticism need emotions to moisten, if just boring lectures, students will only be on deaf ears. "Sincere will find a way", the only reasonable, improve the occasion, the criticism of both the sense of language, is a medicine, such as where pretty breeze warm the heart, to make the students happy. The criticism of the teacher education language such as emotional as the carrier, will be like the key, can knock on the Windows to the soul which students; Like navigation lamp, illuminates the sailing in the direction of the students; Like drizzle, can moisten purification students hearts.

Remember there was a time, the student with a rubber band rocket ejection paper, do? N room at sixes and sevens, school scale also failed to stop. For this kind of situation, I use of class time, deliberately rocket ejection a paper to a classmate's desk, jaw-dropping from the students looked at me, full of strange atmosphere in the classroom. When I saw that, I said with a smile: "this paper rockets very handsome, but unfortunately, it's brilliant life is too short, too." Permeated with the joy of laughter in the classroom. I went on to say: "the classmates now study pressure, life is tense and drab, is suffering. To alleviate the pressure, you can still play games appropriately. I give a suggestion: after class, you can take a homemade paper rocket to the playground to scamper, and free to fly. The bell rang, the emergency "home" again, will bring you paper rocket full back. In this way, both rich after school life, and not hinder JiaoRong much more, also no safe hidden trouble, also can for you to save a spending, do you think?" Clap your hands in favor of the classmates, once again sounded a series of laughter in the classroom. After that, the ejection of paper after rocket phenomenon in the class.

In zhou ji, quite a few students reveal appreciate me this way, that I truly understand them, understand them to study hard, learning tension, boring, understand that they need to adjust, need to relax, to taste.

This incident made me understand that "hard than soft take". Humorous, improve the occasion, magny cours critical discourse, can promote the students' self denial, accept criticism. This is a easy to accept the students a way of criticism education.

American psychologist James said: "the very essence of human desire, is hoping to get others' praise." Humans have a common, it is like to listen to its word. Young students, especially students often make mistakes, they have a stubborn personality, even some of the heart, hope the teacher praised. If the teacher chatter to criticize students, make students feel useless, slowly form self-abased psychology, done wrong is not willing to accept criticism, gradually to the extreme. If teachers can fully exert its bright spots, with tolerance instead of lecturing and USES the tactful criticism, education is bound to get twice the result with half the effort effect. If a few students laughed at each other, sarcasm, they also seek me to uphold justice. My patience after hearing their complaints, said to them: "you to do so is not civilization, but you take the initiative to find reason, the teacher that you know the side, or a reasonable person, also want to learn... "Several students listened, deeply ashamed, both sides sincerely admit a mistake.

This criticism with praise is particularly suitable for students to have a strong ego and the underachiever criticism education.

Often violate discipline students make mistakes are clever and naughty students, their discipline sometimes just for fun or want to attract attention, not intentional. So, the teacher stop the calm analysis, thoughtful, avoid by all means without thinking, jump to conclusions accused students or published gushing reasons things out, it can stimulate students sensitive soul, so that the students have a more rebellious attitude, or make a face, rogue, put on a "that's how I, who afraid who" look like, or clever to teacher, teacher seeking problem of critical discourse anti referring contemptuously, make the teacher not receive proper education effect, even can not appear under the "clueless" phenomenon, harm the image of teachers and dignity. Instead if the teacher camera, adopt the method of silence to cold treatment, and then the cobwebs, find out the crux of the problem, comprehensive analysis, dialectical treatment, used properly, art education method, both to maintain the self-esteem of students, teachers and students and avoid hostile, which pierced the students psychological defense shield, causes the student to unpredictable the teacher's psychological, back the ideological baggage and take the initiative to find opportunities to the teacher to admit my mistake. I once taught such a boy, his problem is in the class always have something fine to several mean endless, repeatedly criticized education are ineffective. So I changed education way, many times in his mouth when gossip coldly staring at him, took him to the office after class, don't talk to him, also don't call him writing review impertinent paper and so on. After more than ten minutes of cold treatment, he wanted to find out the psychological, gradually to succumb to call me in a low voice: "the teacher... "I don't ignore him, just pretend to be very gave him an angry stare. He slowly lowered his head and fine soft ground to say: "teacher, why are you silent? Don't scold me? Am I really hopeless? Teacher, can you give me one more chance... "I know that the time had come, then speak to him in detail the importance of the classroom quiet and listen to the teacher attentively. After this unique criticism, the boy miraculously gradually to correct the shortcomings, and serve as classroom discipline supervisors shall voluntarily. I deeply feel that sometimes treat students with "silent sound" the cold treatment of art education method, than conventional education methods have little big, can achieve the education effect of get twice the result with half the effort.

Criticism is through certain objective image contrast type, with the method of positive and negative contrast in criticizing, make critics feel objectively some pressure, thus some cognition of their own shortcomings and errors. This way is suitable for the shallow, self consciousness and self consciousness is a bit poor, easy to influence students. If any students concentrate in class,, don't listen attentively, teachers don't have to be up in arms, bulging eyes stared to criticize him. Can be appropriately transfer object, for another listening students praise. Desertion students listened, can automatically correct, the divergent thinking to focus on. This fall in fact contrast type criticism, both to protect the students' self-esteem, and is easy to let students accept, education effect is ideal.

The United States military academy at west point has a proverb: "no excuse," he said. This is the west point in the success of one of the important reasons. And people often make mistakes while looking for an excuse to hide his mistakes, vindication, to release their psychological pressure, to step out caught on. If this perfect way is provided by others, that is the next step is laid by the others, the effect is far better than the self liberation. W is in a body of knowledge long stage, if done wrong, teachers should maintain their self-esteem, to cultivate the perspective of their self-confidence, it steps for them in the process of education, guide them to correct shortcomings, sometimes can receive the unexpected effect. Once, when I walked into the door of the classroom and found a few classmates what was written on the blackboard, when they saw me come in and shook out like the wind, I looked carefully, I found my name was large, scrawled on the blackboard. I didn't go on the rampage, but in the face of dozens of pairs of eyes said humorously: "today I found several more love calligraphy classmate in our class, well! Handwriting is good, some of the language. We are kindred spirit, can make friends, to study together, improve together, how?" "But, I don't like the scribble on the board, waste of resources, in the class, also don't like to write another name that is the behavior of don't respect yourself, respect others, remember that in the future." Reasonable, approachable words echoed in the students hearts. After school, that a few students come to my office to I admit a mistake, I provide guidance education for them, and lend books on calligraphy and other meaningful to them. They is very grateful to me, especially the writing my "name" of students but also to tears. This kind of practice for the students set up the ladder, and described the method of education received an immediate effect. Qiao set the ladder to the student, does not mean that the teacher turned a deaf ear to the students to make mistakes, compromise, concession, but with more subtle means, on the premise of maintenance of students' self-esteem, touches students nervous, self-love, resolving contradictions, out of the woods, and energetic vibrant and swagger.

Zhou ji as a head teacher, is my contact with students of the link, when a lot of reading weekly diary, I found that part of the comparative inferiority the underachiever, they often do not have parents encourage in the home, hear many parents nag, discriminated against by their peers at school, so that they have deprived the poor self-esteem, if the teacher in charge to blame to them again, is "worse". This requires that the teacher in charge criticism to be measured, criticism in encouragement, can achieve good results. As a student in my class zhou jili often shrouded in deep inferiority complex, when he reveals the inferiority, I often write in his diary has a quiet critical aphorism. Such as "in addition to personality, the biggest loss than losing confidence" "always with a positive and optimistic attitude to extend of themselves and the outside world". When he didn't finish my homework, I often write "in his homework, why don't you finish your homework? At this rate, you will always get optimum "criticism in the statement in encouragement. After that, I often find time to talk with him, consciously correct his twisted mind. After a period of time, I found that the student's mental outlook had the very big change, the writing motivation is raised, by a week, "two" turned into "diary", academic performance improved steadily.

In short, teach the wuding method, the method of criticism is varied. Students is a living person, character, each are not identical, the teacher criticized the student, must be thoughtful, to take the appropriate methods vary from person to person, expressed in the form of a kind of art, thus can make the pedagogue, such as spring breeze, if taste gansu feels ashamed, make the spirit and feeling have been sublimated.

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[nirah10]

From Zain,

‘The whole family is really hung up on the idea of people “just wanting to be special” and it drives me nuts.&

Could that because they themselves think they are special? Are they religious? These siblings who say stuff like that? I know you are an atheist but I don’t think you mentioned if your siblings were or not. Sorry, I’m fairly new here so you might have in the past.

Just the phrase: 'The whole family is really hung up on the idea of people “just wanting to be special” and it drives me nuts.’

As I come from Islamic family who moved to the united states before I was born.

My family is pretty religious. And I have a HUGE family. Aunts, Uncles, cousins and ten siblings and the whole entire extended family have all ended in America as they followed each other here early thirty years ago, before I was born.

Growing up in a pretty white, pretty non religious place, a lot of my siblings bece very proud of us being Muslim.

My sisters wore the hijabs and seperated themselves from the other women where we are living through their clothing. And the frequent praying and strict dietary requirement add to that kind of atmosphere of seperation from the masses.

Being religious seems to mean you think you are speical.

That you have a special relationship with God/Allah that only a few in your community get to have.

It is a feeling of us vs them. Us against the world.

I have a feeling Christians aren’t that different to Muslims like that.

My family thought I was 'juat trying to be different’ when they found out I was gay.

I didn’t tell them. Fuck that.

I was out at the mall with my boyfriend, a town over from home as I didn’t feel comfortable shopping with my boyfriend in my home town in case my family saw.

A cousin saw us holding hands. I didn’t see him. He followed us, taking a bunch of photos on his phone including a damning one of my boyfriend kissing me as I leaned into a wall.

I got home and fifteen of my family members were waiting in the lounge.

With those fucking photos. I still feel anxious just thinking about it. I can feel my heart racing even writing this. 

My father was ranting and raving, and slapped me accross the face. Then two of my uncles held me down and whipped me with a belt until I was bleeding. I feel have the scars. I hate the scars so, so much. I feel so J when I see them in the mirror. 

I was then locked in a bedroom and told I could not come out until I agreed to an arranged marriage with a family friend.

I was in that bedroom for three days, pissing in a bottle before I realised they weren’t going to let me out until I agreed to marry that girl.

The bedroom was on the second floor and deadbolted shut. I smashed the window open in the middle of the night, jumped off the roof and fucking RAN.

I broke my foot when I jumped but I didn’t even notice until later. My boyfriend thinks it must have been the adrenaline.

But anyway, made it to the place my boyfriend was renting (he was from our of town but we had met when he came to town for a short term job contract.)

I still remember how horrified he was when I turned up looking half dead on his door in the middle of the night after moving contact for nearly three days. Surprise.  Not a great start to a new relationship really.

He wanted me to press charges, I refused as I did not want to see my family again. He left his job seven  weeks  early, forfeited a month’s rent and he called his mom that night and had her buy us airline tickets to fly to her state a day afterwards. I was a absolute mess.

To the extent I refused to let my boyfriend take me to the hospital as I was terrifed of my family looking for me in the hospitals.

I wore a long sleeve top on the plane, despite it being summer to cover up the cuts from the glass and walked on my broken foot. Making it worse. Some people say it is impossible to walk on a broken foot. Bullshit. Not if your as terrifed as I was.

I went to the hospital when we were safe in my boyfriend’s state.

I transferred colleges to go to one near where my boyfriend’s mom was living and we both ended up living with her for four years until we got a place of our own.

I love her. She is a mother to me.

Lucky for me my family knew nothing about my boyfriend, so have no idea what state he is in.

I’ve never tried to get in contact with them. I’m not a missing person as I told my college I was transferring but made it very clear I did not want my family knowing where I was going.

I kind of regret now not listening to my boyfriend and refusing to press charges. But I was a scared 18 year old kid. Now as a 26 year old I feel more confident. But then I really don’t want to open that can of worms again. As long as I never have to see them again I’ll be happy.

We are now engaged and thinking of co-parenting in the future with a lesbain couple who are very good friends of ours, we bonded as one of them went through something similar- one of the girls was locked into a room by her Christian parents when she came out at 21 and then shoved a male family friend from the church into the bedroom to “fix her”. Yep, her Christian parents had her raped. Unlike me my friend was brave and after she pretended to be 'converted’ she went straight to the police station and pressed charges. She hasn’t seen her family since the trial. We met in a support group for victims of family abuse. Our partners have become close friends too and we are excited about the four of us starting a family some day.

I’m happy but I am still affected my what happened and i sometimes hate myself for being weak. I’m paranoid and have even refused to go on Facebook and don’t let friends post photos of me online, as I am terrified of a mutual friend somehow passing a photo onto my family and finding me. I know it is a very slim possibly but I also thought getting seen with my boyfriend at the mall all those years ago was a silm possibility as well. 

But I’ll never forget my family thinking I was gay because I was trying to spite them or be different for them. religious people desire so much to see themselves as special the ready to accuse other people very easily of 'trying’ to be 'special’ or 'different’.

So yeah. I am an atheist from a religious family, and from your comment I’m guessing your family might be religious as well? And from the sounds of it you have had it really tough because of your sexuality with your family as well. I know it is hard and I am sorry you have to deal with that.

Sometimes I even come across as a bit intolerant towards religion as I kind of shut down when people talk about it. My mind just goes blank and I panic. My  friend from the Christian family feels the same.

So I am sorry for what you have gone through and being suicidal. I am sending you virtual hugs, as I know how lonely that can be and it does stay with you.

Dear Zain,

Wow! I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that and thank you so much for sharing your story. I’m very happy that you got out of that situation and that it sounds like you’re quite happy now. Regarding the scars, I read a little while ago that there are specialized tattoo artists who cover up scars and stretch marks in a way that just looks like your natural skin (rather than covering it up with an image) and the results looked quite impressive. If your scars bother you so much, perhaps that would be an option for you to look at?

My family are pretty well all Jehovah’s Witnesses--cousins, uncles/aunts, grandparents. My biological father was a very abusive man (who was removed from my life when I was 14) but the rest of my family aren’t abusive. They’re just really stuck in a certain way of thinking and can be unkind when faced with anything different. They’ve learned and grown a lot over the years but they could be quite horrible when I was younger. I started dating my current boyfriend when I was 17 and they were really awful to him because he’s an atheist (so they naturally blamed him for “corrupting” me once I became more outspoken about my own lack of belief) and they tried pretty hard to break us up. My mum even kicked me out because she said I was a bad influence on my younger sister (I had only had a few months of school left before my graduation and she at least told me I didn’t have to leave until I finished). I moved out and refused to tell her where I went because I was so angry about it and I didn’t really talk to the people in my family much for the next year or two. I think they eventually realized that we weren’t going to break up and they started being a little nicer so (ten years later) I now have good relationships with all of them, but the damage was already done for my boyfriend and he still feels really on edge around them. I also have a rather large family by the way. I have eight siblings, though almost all of my extended family live in either Alberta or England so we don’t see them much.

I have PTSD and religious talk is one of my main triggers. I can discuss religion just fine and learn about it, but I can have quite severe reactions when I hear people talking about it as though they actually believe it. Any kind of sermon or people talking about trusting Jesus or God’s law, etc. will get my heart rate going and I’ll start to panic. I just have way too many horrible associations with it, especially because my biological father would use scriptures to justify beating us (there’s a scripture about how parents should stone their disobedient sons--that was his favourite because he could tell us we were lucky we were even allowed to live). 

I think the weird obsession with “trying to be special” with my family is more to do with our upbringing than it is with their religion really. Although, now that you’ve mentioned that, I realize that JW culture is very big on how different they are from other Christians. I think it was a combination of there being too many children, everybody being freaking miserable, and my mother not believing that mental health issues were a real thing. There simply wasn’t time to see to the individual needs of nine different kids, especially since my father had absolutely no part in parenting, so my one of my mum’s favourite mottos was “if I can’t see blood or bone, I don’t want to hear about it”. We could actually get in trouble for crying if she couldn’t see a physical injury on us. She was one of those people (who thankfully has since learned how wrong it was) that used to regularly say stuff like depression wasn’t real and people who committed suicide were the most selfish people in the world. Pretty much any kind of mental health problem was just someone trying to get attention, like a kid throwing a temper tantrum to get what they want, and should be ignored or told off. It created a really horrible culture in our family where anybody doing or saying anything that was at all outside of the usual was just “trying to be special” and it was met with severe criticism and scorn. My mum saw cut marks on me once when I was 13 or so and her response was to tell me “if you’re gonna start up with that kind of nonsense, I’ll send you to the loonie bin” in a very threatening manner. She never asked why I was doing it or checked to see if I was still doing it. I just learned to use different methods that looked less obvious and continued with habits of self-harm for another five years or so.

I excuse a lot of my family’s behaviour (as well as some of my own at the time) as the lashing out of miserable people who saw no way out of their situation. None of us knew how to love each other properly or to show each other support because we had literally never experienced it before. My mum got married when she was 17 and was very quickly moved to Canada where she had no family or support system and I think she just accepted that adult life was supposed to suck as much as it did. Once my father was out of the picture, there were several turbulent years as we all learned how to act like normal people and how to treat each other the way that family should. I’m very grateful for the change that has happened, even if some people still have a ways to go.

Thanks again for sharing your story and I’m so happy to hear that you’re doing well now. Sending you virtual hugs back :)