#(one was on the beginning banner & the other on the standard but STILL)

[haunted-xander]

My team! Ladies <3

[aprilcolours]

blackheart: part two

part one - part three - part four

—

Two days after the Battle at Lydden, the campground was abuzz with news. ‘The Northmen are here.’ ‘The Stark has arrived.’ ‘Did you hear? The greybeards have joined camp.’ The whispers were unavoidable as Visenya broke her morning fast. She thought it rather funny that men at war gossiped all the same as their wives at home. 

As she began to braid her hair (a wartime style like her mother’s), she thought of a certain young lord who had taken up a pressing residence in her mind. 

She worried that the kiss had been rash, impulsive, and ill-conceived. Perhaps I have let the fire in my blood get the better of me, she fretted.

Visenya carried a great weight on her shoulders. Her mother was relying on her to be successful on campaign, while her father was off gallivanting heedlessly. It was of the utmost importance that these Riverlanders respect her authority as commander and be brought to heel. Not an easy feat as a woman. I cannot afford to give even a single reason for doubt in my capability. 

It was these worries that had caused her to rebuff all attempts Benjicot Blackwood had made at flirtation since the kiss. He had tried to tease her, or goad her, or even on one fateful attempt last night: find her alone again. Like the day at Lydden, he had approached as she landed after scouting on Vermithor. She had said immediately, before she could change her mind, ‘After one does battle, they can retain a sort of thrill-seeking madness to expend the remainder of their blood-letting energy. It is common enough, but regrettable. My sole focus at this time is on securing my mother’s throne. I can consider nothing else.’ She did not meet his eyes as she spoke, looking instead over his shoulder before forcing herself to walk steadfastly away, and ignoring the flash of hurt writ across his face. 

It pained her, as she recalled the morning after, her braid now finished. She could still feel the ghost of him on her lips. Warm and yearning. 

We must all make sacrifices in war, she assured herself. Visenya II took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders, and stepped out of her tent to find her place among the war council. 

As the morning’s gossip foretold, a new broad figure stood at the table. Cregan Stark was a large man, an impression made only larger by the cloak of furs clasped round his shoulders. The familiar lords bowed, but surprisingly, the Northerner chose instead to drop to a knee before her. Lord Stark took her hand and kissed the back of it, declaring in a low voice “It is an honor, your highness.”

Visenya did her best to mask her amusement, though her eyes did widen at the display. 

“Lord Stark, so glad you could join us,” she responded, to some chuckles from the other council members. She looked around the table and caught Ben’s eye. His expression was dark, his usual grin now morphed into something more like a sneer. She looked away quickly and began the day’s deliberations. 

—

Near midday, the council adjourned momentarily to see to matters within their banners. Visenya used the time to discern the state of the troops, observing carefully to ensure standards were being met. 

Since the victory, certain soldiers had taken it upon themselves to establish a training field. Knights from differing regions clashed steel against steel, trying their skills against one another. She observed the sparring, face impassive. It seemed silly to waste such energy, the war is only beginning, she thought. 

“Does the fighting not please you my lady?” Ben’s taunting voice rang out nearby. 

His face held the promise of mischief. She was immediately wary, raising her signature unimpressed brow. He took a moment, almost seeming to check that all the gathered were listening, before he stook a step out into the yard and said,

“Well of course, a princess is not trained in such matters, not when you have a dragon to fight in your stead.” He gestured jauntily about like he had made a great joke. 

The whole camp stuttered to a standstill. Utter silence across the plain.

How. Dare. You. 

Visenya’s blood turned to ice in her veins, cold hard rage bottoming out her senses. Her face must’ve done something terrifying because every man in the near vicinity took a few steps back. 

And the scoundrel still just grinned his lopsided grin. 

You’ll pay for that Blackwood, she swore in her mind. 

“Is that so?” she asked, voice sharp and quiet like a shard of glass. She stalked slowly to the other edge of the training yard across from him, her steps measured and predatory. The knights gathered there scrambled back, dragging their equipment hastily. 

Back still turned to him, Visenya looked out upon the troops but did not see them. Only red. With nought a thought for the propriety of the situation, he seems to have that effect quite often doesn’t he, she reached to her back and unsheathed the two blades holstered there. 

Then finally, with a Valyrian shortsword in each hand, she turned and looked the Blackwood in the eye.

“To first blood then?” she asked, tone as mild as if she was asking about the weather. 

“To first blood,” he confirmed, eyes gleaming. And he attacked.

He was an explosion given form. A savage whirl of motion and violence, seemingly without end and tireless. It was a hacking, slashing, sort of style— unpredictable, but not so crass as to be reckless. The movements had a deceptive sort of tightness to them: where it appeared at a glance that such rabid fervor might leave his flanks open; he was guarded and compact. 

All this, Visenya gleaned as she danced circles round his brutal strikes. She parried and sidestepped, studying his every movement like a cat might watch a bird. He was a force, made for chaos and to mow down men in great swathes. But she was finely tuned, a crafted blade made for precision. 

He was good, that much was sure. But Father is better. 

She waited until his left foot turned out slightly, as she had noticed it did when he lunged two handedly, and with a swift precise kick she knocked him flat on his back. Between one blink and the next, she had a boot on his chest and her two blades crossed at his throat. 

There was a moment of utter silence again. Before the camp began their raucous applause. The men were shouting her name, her house words, roaring their approval, but she had eyes only for one. 

Ben, his head in the dirt, smiled. A real, genuine, one, not a sneer or smirk. She did her best to remain stoic even as she felt her own smugness tug at her lips. She picked her boot off his chest and pulled her swords from their position, transferring them into one hand so she might offer the other to him. 

He took it, and did not let go as he stood up. Instead, he raised it to his lips and bowed, his dark searing gaze never leaving hers as he, slowly, imploringly, kissed the back of her hand. 

Seven hells. Visenya suppressed a shiver. She could not tell whether she was still angry or wanted to laugh. She forced herself to recover quickly.

“You have a boot-print on your shirt, my lord,” she teased. Then she promptly turned around and looked at the gathered spectators to call,

“Since the situation has arisen, is there any other who would challenge a duel?” She turned in a circle, watching some soldiers jostle each other forward and others shy away. 

“Good Ser Tully,” she addressed, “perhaps a knight can make a better showing on behalf of the Riverlands.” 

The knight laughed humbly and stepped forward, “I can certainly try my lady.”

—

Visenya sparred with four men, challengers each from different houses. She remained for the better part of the day, offering advice, comparing strategy, and watching other matches. As the sun fell low in the sky, the group finally dispersed. As she made her way back to her tent, she felt a familiar presence step into stride with her. She did not look at Ben as she asked,

“Are you so troubled that you must resort to insulting me the moment another man dares to exist in my presence?”

“No, my lady” he protested, trying to make light of the situation, though he did appear slightly chastened. “Twas simply a ruse so that I might kiss you. I thought you might find it amusing.”

“Amusing? Amusing that you have so loudly begun a pissing contest with the Warden of the North?” she questioned incredulously, temper rising again. She stopped walking and turned to face him. 

Men, she thought angrily, never consider the consequences of their impulses. She felt all her worries about being respected arise within her like a great wave.

“I—” he began, but was swiftly cut off. 

“I will remind you Lord Blackwood, that my mother the Queen has final jurisdiction in the matter of my hand. And she has not yet even heard word of your proposal let alone deigned to consider it,” Visenya bit out, anger giving way to something more like distress. 

She heaved a shaky breath and took a moment to collect herself. He looked thoroughly chastened now. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her stoicism about her again, declaring,

“Should you presume to mock me publicly again, Raventree Hall will find it has urgent need for its liege Lord to return from his time abroad.”

With that, she turned to stomp away but was halted by a firm hand at her wrist. Turning viciously, she began, “You dare—” 

“Did you speak truly?” Ben asked, voice uncharacteristically timid. “That you regret it?”

She was stricken into silence. He has a habit of surprising me, doesn’t he? Emotions warred within her, crashing against one another like the Narrow Sea. But thinking about his smile today, with her blade to his throat, she could not find it within herself to lie. So she simply shook her head no. 

The Blackwood let a breath out through his nose, like he had been holding it, and pressed a quick hand to her face. His thumb flitted over her cheek once, an echo of his roaming pulling hands. For the briefest of moments, Visenya allowed herself to close her eyes and press her face into his palm. 

“My mother is depending on me,” she whispered, a confession she did not intend to let escape. “I cannot fail her.” 

“I understand,” he replied simply, voice also hushed. 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. A long tender beat. Two. 

When he pulled away, the look in Benjicot Blackwood’s eyes was something close to grim determination. He backed away and strode into the night, cloaked in purpose.

—

A/N: okay so turns out that was just some random blackwood but we are going to ignore that and continue in the delusion bc its fun

[channelinglament]

Sksjdjjkskskskskksk

I know I should be focusing more on reqs, but I had to take this off my mind skskksskks (btw I'm rn in the underground belobog part of story) (I kinda called it SAHSR as in self aware hsr)

☆•°Self-Aware Honkai Star Rail°•☆

Tw: no proofread, mentioned drowning(but it didn't happen), war, hate, religious themes, self awareness, kinda ooc, grammar mistakes because I am typing this at 12AM instead of sleeping, isolation

So, you know how in the beginning we play as Kafka? Yeah, I'm pretty sure she felt your presence. At first she was kinda weirded out, and was on guard. Who knows what you would do to her, while controlling her?

Oh look, you're helping her.. Hmm, maybe you aren't that bad after all. Still on guard, but thankful. With you she seems to fight more faster and is more efficient.

Same goes with Silver Wolf. They don't seem to mind your presence that much.

You even helped them to pick a trailblazer! But after picking them, you left Kafka and Silver Wolf. They didn't really mind it. They have been doing good without you, so it should be fine!

Meanwhile, the trailblazer is confused. First, they don't remember anything except their own name(or the name you gave them), then Kafka leaves and someone is watching over them. Oh how confusing and strange. But they caught early on that you're helping them. You're not an enemy.

During their "adventures" trailblazer starts thinking of you as a family. Kinda annoying since you control their body most the time (unless it's a cutscene) but you're cool nonetheless. They see you as a safespace.

Meanwhile March 7th and Dan Heng don't understand what is happening. Who is controlling them? Why after they met trailblazer? Why are you controlling them?

I think March would, just like the trailblazer, like you and find you annoying at the same time. Dan Heng would stay on guard (but also see you as safe space/nice person to hang with). Not as much on guard as when you first...met but still. It'll take him time to get off guard. The more time you spend with them, the more familiar they are with you, the more they like you.

Why annoyed, you may ask? Well, imagine you want to.. for example fight, but someone controls your movement and does it instead of you. Or goes the other way (aka exploring) instead of the path you've originally chosen.

They certainly would like when you make them stronger. No matter who is on your team, they'll like it (I mean, who wouldn't?)

But.. sometimes, even if they like you, they get tired of always being on the team. Thank you, yes, but they need to rest too. They mostly rest when you're offline, since..time kinda stops there. But when you're online? damnnn they walk and fight so much.. (I fr walk everywhere to find enemies to fight, so uhh, if you're like me, they would be tired and maybe annoyed at it)

I think some characters would even hate you. It doesn't apply to the main trio btw, they'll always like you. The reason some may hate you is that they have so much stuff to do, yet you choose them to walk around and fight all day. They're even supposed to be here! (For example, using Herta when fighting someone in Belobog)

If they could, they would scold you. But sadly game doesn't allow that.

It only appears in normal, self aware circumstances. Aka a normal self aware. Some like you, some hate you. You just kinda exist. (That one strange friend/sibling, y'know?)

But what if they would see you as a God? Something divine? Like in SAGAU?

Well, you're doomed, what can I say?

Everyone would want to be in your team. Oh, poor Gacha system.

They would hate it tbh. While in just self aware some would avoid you on purpose (aka busy characters), here? Where everyone sees you as a divine being? Oh dear..

Imagine several people trying to come through a single door, all at the same time? Yeahhh that's what happens. The standard and limited banner would literally fist fight while trying to get "home" to you. So don't be surprised if nobody comes home, at all.

But some may cooperate, and you may get more 5☆ or 4☆! Basically characters you wanted.

Those on your team would be proud! Mostly if the main trio are still there. Some would be envious of trailblazer. You're always with them, even if they're not on your team.(how could you?!)

Kafka and Silverwofl would be devastated. I'm pretty sure Silverwolf could possibly destroy the gacha system and come home. Only her (and maybe Kafka)

People in Belobog would hate the lore and everything game makes them do what they do. They're so happy they met you! You're here to save them! They don't want to fight you, so please don't be mad at them.

Honestly, if you were to get isekai'ed into hsr, I would recommend to the normal au.

The ones who hate you would just tell you off and never interact again, while your family/friends would hang out with you. Plus you could help a lot in Astral Express!

Maybe get Himeko and Mr.Yang some tea? Or help Pom Pom with whatever he needs?

If you get into the Worshipping Lunatics au..? I feel sorry for you.. You would never rest-

Whether you choose to stay at Astrak Express, or Herta's *I forgot the name* or whatever, they are all ready to wage war against each other. And if you decided to stay somewhere, that means you clearly favor them and their place more! Those who were chosen are happy/smug. While other try to improve their place/copy the place you've chosen to make you reconsider and stay with them.

The amount of gifts.. try to not drown okay?

They might even all agree to keep you in one place. Lock you in there and hope you won't be mad at them.

That's all for now

(Gotta work on reqs now or in the morning, they're still open btw)

[jokeroutsubs]

ENG Translation: Joker Out appeared today (3.11.2023) on the Headliner.rs, a Serbian digital magazine.

You can find the original text here

ENG TRANSLATION:

The phenomenon Joker Out… In Americana Hall* it was like there was no tomorrow

*in Dom Omladine

For those unaware, if they still exist, Joker Out is a pop-rock band from Ljubljana which gained fame after participating in this year’s Eurovision. Even though they only won 21st place, their career blossomed after the competition and so they became one of the most successful (if not the most successful) acts that participated this year.

They sold out tickets for nearly every concert with incredible speed, with a special emphasis on the former Yugoslavian countries. But, why is that?

First of all, this charming five are a boy band. A real, classic, boy band. We haven’t had such a phenomenon in our area for a long time, the younger generation have almost no experience with something like this. They came onto the scene at the right moment and gave the audience what they needed. And Eurovision came into their career at the perfect time to give them a flying start and to launch them from a quality, alternative Slovenian band straight to the stars.

The older generation loves them for their undeniable quality. When something that stands out from the crowd emerges, in which you can see years of work and which, as the career goes on, records only progress, the older generations stop being so elitist and know how to recognize it.

They partially love them because of nostalgia. With their attitudes and style, they are adorably reminiscent of some bands of the 80s and very easily bring back memories and briefly bring experiences that the generations growing up back then remember with melancholy.

Young people love them… well, is an explanation really necessary? Their concerts are like a party, two hours of euphoria and a total occupation of all the senses. It’s not hard to win over a young audience if you are like them: five charismatic guys who radiate with their existence.

For months, competing for a second of their attention, girls have been screaming over each other in the audience. They know the lyrics by heart, without knowing a word of Slovenian.

Tears of joy are already pouring with the opening lyrics of the first song. Having conquered Novi Sad, these guys arrived in Belgrade on the 2nd of November. The countdown is finally over.

Labyrinth-like lines in front of Dom Omladine hinted at a fight for a place in the first row, and even a few rows back. When the doors finally opened, the fastest secured their desired place, others were defeated and some gave up at the start and chose a place further back, for a more intimate experience.

Colourful outfits, shiny, neon makeup, sequins, pearls, latex, lace and who knows what other details and accessories found themselves in the same place, in the same crowd. So divided, yet perfectly harmonious, it’s clear these people belong where they are. When the members of the band joined their colourful scene on stage, the spectrum was complete.

Entering the stage, right on time, tensely prolonged but so spectacular, they set a standard that won’t be beaten for a long time. Joker Out opened their first concert in Belgrade with the song “Sunny Side of London”.

They introduced themselves as “five Slovenians who are here to sing for you”, but they are, really, much more than that. Bojan’s interactions with the audience, his smiles, looks and irresistible personality caused general hysteria from the very beginning.

With his wit, he held the audience’s attention without stopping and immediately gained their full trust. Although he’s the most mobile, with the role of frontman, he’s far from being the center of attention. It seems this is a band where everything is divided into five equal parts. The audience goes absolutely crazy for each of them.

“Bojan, I am not a baby seal, but can you please adopt me?”, is just one of the endearing banners that could be seen in the audience. Letters, bouquets, and bras flew towards them, almost non-stop.

Delighted that everyone present knew the lyrics and therefore addressed him in fluent Slovenian, Bojan spoke to us in fluent Serbian.

Although the audience was often louder than the speakers, the loudest scream was let out with our “Demons”, while “Katrina” was dedicated to a randomly selected girl in the audience.

There was such a strong collective energy that it would draw in even someone who has never heard even one of their songs. At the advice of the band, everyone hugged someone who needed it right at that moment.

To summarise, why did this phenomenon take over? When you have someone who gives their all to the audience, when they enjoy what they’re doing, everything makes sense. The five of them absolutely deserve every second of their success, there’s no doubt. Today there’s rarely a band that immensely values their fans, on whose stage there’s respect between the members. What they have is earned through sacrifice, work and talent. They’re aware of it and so are their fans.

These tireless, energetic guys gave their insatiable audience an unforgettable encore of five songs. As they themselves say, we danced and loved each other all night (loved them, ourselves, each other, or mutually, whichever happened to whom) and all that - as if there were no tomorrow.

After tonight flower petals, confetti, sequins, lots of sighs and someone’s vocal chords will be cleaned up from the Americana Hall in Dom Omladine, but the spirit of some seemingly normal Slovenian guys will remain within for a long time.

Translation cr: @moonlvster

(The photos are from their concert at 'Dom omladine', Belgrade)

[kewpie-aisle]

𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕤

Moving to Japan to start a new career is never an easy step. But it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, and somewhere along the way you find a spark like no other

pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x PhysicalTherapist!Reader

notes: suggestive language, professional f!reader, formerathlete!reader, took a lot of creative liberties with the reader character, OCs included. Words in bold are inner thoughts

wc: 6288 words

I potentially may make this a series - let me know!

dividers made by cafekitsune

The soft sound of your alarm starts shifting and growing louder, as you fumble in the dark to hit the stop button. Opening one eye to see the sun’s rays lighting up the room in a low orange glow. The light breeze through the curtains and the light is enough to get you up and begin your morning stretches with a groan. The morning routine becomes a blur as you navigate through the usual of showering, getting dressed, and eating a quick breakfast before heading out to work. Most people dread the morning commute, but it’s your personal solace to tune out the world and enjoy an hour of time to yourself. Headphones on, music blasting, daydreams carrying you through Osaka as the subway zips through the city. A buzzing sensation from your pocket interrupting your peace, but you already have a guess on who’s trying to get your attention this morning. Glancing at your phone screen, you catch the message banner before your phone goes back to sleep. Exactly on time.

Coach Foster: What’s your arrival? Y/N: Take a guess Coach Foster:...Y/N. Y/N: You’re messaging me at 6:45AM, come on now. Entertain me. Coach Foster: Knowing you, you’re probably already on the train. So, about ten minutes away? Checking your map estimate, you huff out a quiet chuckle. Damn, he’s good. After a brisk jog to your destination, you’re pushing through the doors of the athletics facility Coach gave you directions for, to see the man already waiting by the inside entrance for you. 

“Are you finally going to admit that you’re my assigned FBI agent? You have to be tracking me, how else are you still this good at knowing my whereabouts Fossy” you tease as you’re pulled into a hug from the older gentleman. Samson Foster, the head coach for the MSBY Black Jackals, in his black tracksuit pulls away and looks down at you with a warm smile on his face. It’s been quite a few years since you’ve seen him, but the few greys peppered through his normally blond hair is the only telltale sign of time passing. “Let’s keep the nicknames at bay in front of the team please? I don’t need mutiny in this team too.” He shakes his head with a grimace, as he steers you inside to give you a tour of the facilities. “We can play catch up at your welcome party tonight, but for now let’s get you started on your first day.” Coach Foster begins running through the itinerary, you both make quick work of getting through the necessary formalities with onboarding. As you make your way to the medical team offices, you hear the distant shuffles of sneakers and a whistle blowing. Making a note that the courts must be closeby, Coach opens a door leading you into a room that reminds you so much of the principal’s office. Standing to the side are two individuals quietly discussing over a clipboard before looking up at you.

“There they are. You were right Foster, she’s exactly on time.” An older gentleman in a white coat looks at his watch, breathing out a laugh before bowing for introductions. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N. We’ve heard only wonderful things about you from Coach Foster. I’m Dr. Preston Burke, the team physician for the MSBY Black Jackals. This here is my colleague, Iwaizumi Hajime.” You shake the doctor’s hand as you look over to the other man to his side. As you reach your hand out, the other man bows quickly before taking your hand in a firm shake. “Iwaizumi Hajime, last name comes first in many Japanese introductions as it’s standard to go by last names here. I’m the athletic trainer for the team, it’s nice to meet you.” Handshake firm, your eyes follow the hand up a strong tanned arm, to the face of a god. Ok girl, reel it in. Yes he’s good looking. The man in front of you quirks an eyebrow in reaction to a small chuckle escaping your mouth, shaking off your inner thoughts, you smile. “Thank you Iwaizumi-san, for the cultural explanation. I’ve done some prep, wouldn’t want to come into another country and disrespect anyone. Please correct me at any time if I’ve done something wrong. It’s nice to officially meet you. I’ve gotten a lot of notes from Coach Foster.” Letting go of each other’s hands, both your attention is turned to Dr. Burke’s mention of the day’s itinerary. Although the majority of the day consists of introductions, the medical staff team has some blocks to discuss structure and strategy to help you get adjusted. Thankfully a lot of the material had been shared ahead of time, so you’re able to hit the ground running today. But the introductions aren’t until later in the day, but you have a small break before the staff meetings. So you head off to your desk with Dr. Burke, to get set up. “Iwaizumi please come with me, I need your eyes on some gameplay strategies that Meian put together. He’s waiting for us on the court.” Coach Foster pats the young man’s shoulder as he nods to agree. “I promise to keep it quick so he’s back to join you both.” Coach and Dr. Burke share a quick nod before the group says their goodbyes and splits up. 

The walk is quick and short down the hall to your shared office as Dr. Burke talks more about their background. You seamlessly go through the motions, bonding over the struggles of university, family back home, tips and tricks for learning the Japanese language, all the similar snags that come with international careers. It wasn’t an easy decision to just pick up your entire life and move to Japan, but the physical therapist role was one you couldn’t pass up. Dr. Burke’s reputation precedes him, the D-1 volleyball team is one of the best, and with your prior playing experience, you would be a perfect fit. Change wasn’t something you were ever afraid of, but after all the suffering through grad school and license tests you would be a sucker to not accept the perfect job. “I’m sure you had a similar experience Dr. Burke, but Coach has the charismatic skills of a car salesman who's low on his quota. After his pitch, there was no way I could refuse.” Dr. Burke’s solemn expression with a hand on his chin in a contemplative pose has you giggling. Birds of a feather, seems he was roped in just like you. It takes a few minutes to get your desk and laptop set up, before you’re given the tour. The shared office houses two desks in the front and a recessed second office for the primary physician. The room was primarily for administrative work, but the team’s main course of work would be in the medical office. Dr. Burke brings you down the hallway where you again hear the shuffles and faint shouts from the main courts. “The main gymnasium is just around the corner. The medical rooms are situated a stone’s throw away, for obvious reasons. You have a fully furnished space further down the hall, in between the medical offices and the locker room. For added privacy for your conversations, however thanks to your added experience, you’ll find yourself here or on the court with Iwaizumi-kun.” The doctor takes you around the pristine and sterile facilities, noting the rehabilitation and care equipment set up alongside private beds. Clearly the team has been doing well, and are supported financially. It’s good to see proper facilities set up to care for the players. Majority of the work falls within the Athletic Trainer role, since you’re fully licensed for psychological evaluations you can provide an added service. But essentially Iwaizumi-san and you would be a tag team pair. The doctor runs through the standard care protocol and shares where primary care on premise ends so that serious care is provided at approved medical facilities. Your hands are already full with the players’ files as he guides you back to the shared office space. “Iwaizumi-kun took all the careful notes in those files. His attention to detail has been a gift to me, honestly. Actually he used to play volleyball throughout his childhood as well. Quit playing after high school to study abroad for college, you should talk to him about that. Something for the two of you to bond over” he gestures to the files that you’re reading through at your desk. You hum in response, taking in carefully jotted notes in the margins of player statistics. Comments on postures, dietary restrictions, even tracked personal exercise routines to know where to adjust in facility workouts. Iwaizumi-san had begun to research cryotherapy equipment for budgeting pitches to the finance department it seemed like. 

“If it’s cryotherapy, I know a guy who can help us cut some of these estimates down. In fact one of the player’s is also close with him. We’re friends from -” cut off by a knock on the door, you both turn to see Iwaizumi-san walk in with a wave. 

“Sorry about my delay, I got caught up with Meian. What have I missed?” He notices the files in your hand and nods. “Catching up on the files? I hope my handwriting isn’t difficult to read, sometimes I can’t find my notebook in time and jot down what I can wherever I can.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he strides over to your side. You breathe out a laugh, assuring him his handwriting is neat and easy to read. You’re sharing some insight on cryotherapy research you’ve done, pulling out your phone to show him a presentation deck you had put together. Ducking his head down closer to get a look at your screen, he’s amazed by the amount of detail. Even noting slides that go into the benefits per muscular function of whole-body cryotherapy. It’s not often he meets someone who’s as passionate about the science behind the body. Glancing up at a ping on your phone, he can’t help but notice your wallpaper as it flashes by while you switch apps. “Was that…Talita Antunes as your wallpaper?” He peers over at you to see your eyes widen in surprise before you flash him the world’s biggest smile. A pang hits his heart, and the hand he’s resting on your desk to prop himself up slips a bit. Not fully catching your excited explanation about how she’s your favorite player. The room around him goes silent except for the thundering of his heart as you place your hand on his arm to show him some highlight clips of hers, impressed by the fact that you know her. Internally, Iwaizumi is making a note to buy Hinata lunch as a thank you, for drilling basic Brazilian beach volleyball facts into his head. Especially if it meant getting to see your amazing smile. A dimple popping up on one side, or the way your eyes fully crinkle to show that when you smile, your whole being exudes it. The sounds of the room slowly come back to his senses as he feels you gently pushing his shoulder. “Earth to Iwaizumi-san? Have I bored you to another dimension? Come on now, she’s too cool for you to zone out on me” You shake the man one last time, although shake should be used lightly. The trainer stood solidly, a body of muscle, needing a lot more force to cause movement. You couldn’t help but admire the sturdy feeling of muscle under your touch, shaking off the unexpected thought immediately. Taking your hand off him quickly to ensure you didn’t cross any boundaries, knowing the Japanese culture is a bit more conservative about physical touch. Hearing a soft apology, the trainer quirks an eyebrow at you, a silent ask for why. When you explain your thought on potentially making him uncomfortable, you’re met with a chuckle. “I told you he studied abroad right Y/N, he’s not bothered by that. Iwaizumi-kun lived in California for quite some time for his studies and clinical practices. Not as traditional as you think.” Dr. Burke calls out, after observing you both engrossed in your own world. It’s not often he sees his younger colleague be so carefree. Iwaizumi-kun has carried a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially in the early days prior to the doctor accepting the full time offer. He remembers watching Iwaizumi-kun work late night after night, taking on his own load of work so that he could go back to the hospital. Despite being the age of many of the players, he’s watched the young man carry himself with a maturity beyond his years. Although the two are close, he’s unsure if that’s his natural disposition or one he was made to mold into for personal reasons. But seeing him now, geek out about sports medicine knowledge, beach volleyball, and instinctually soften around you, warmed the older gentleman’s heart. There was clearly a natural chemistry between you two, whatever direction it goes in, all he could hope for is a happy one for the trainer. He had a soft spot in his heart for the young man, and knows that the Coach cared for the new recruit. Humming to himself, he brings his attention back to you both.

“We should be continuing her itinerary for the day, you know Iwaizumi-kun.” “Oh what? You haven’t given her the 360 degree luxury tour of our state of the art office? Well who am I to deprive her of that!” The trainer looks down at you and motions his finger in a circle; telling you to take a spin. “Luxury tour done.” A smirk plays on his lips watching you seriously take a spin in mock wonder, turning into a grin as you bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a laugh. He glances at the doctor with a raised eyebrow and a hand on the hip, silently asking what’s next on the itinerary. The three burst out into a fit of laughter from an exchange of looks, the sounds bouncing off the walls to surround the three. The moment is interrupted with a knock on the door, one of the assistant coaches peeking into the room. “Sounds like you guys are having fun, hate to interrupt that, but it’s time to meet the Jackals! Iwaizumi, can you please bring her when you’re both ready? We’ll see you in the main gymnasium” and just like he’s gone as fast as he was in the doorway. You gather yourself, turning to ask the doctor if you look nice. He flashes you a sincere thumbs up before making his way over to you. The doc gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder and a whisper of good luck as you’re pushed out the door to meet the players. 

“Why are you giving me that look?” You’re able to ask over your shoulder only to hear a soft “match their energy if you can” and a laugh before the door closes.

Iwaizumi-san has a stone cold grimace etched into his face. “Do I need to be worried? You both are absolutely not setting me up for success here” you poke at the man’s shoulder to try and get more information. “You’d think I’m being sent out to war with how solemn you guys are being. Is the team rowdy or something?” This gets a chuckle out of the man as he pushes open two large double doors into the court. “Or something” he replies quickly with a small smirk that vanishes in a second. The loud sounds of sneakers squeaking and players shouting take over your entire senses. A practice match is going on, the ball is rapidly being passed back and forth across the net. A player jumps to the side before jumping up to smash down a high set. 

For a player of that stature, a jumping height like that isn’t common. As if Apollo himself graced the court and grew wings to fly up to his perch in the sky. The whistle blows and the orange haired player lands on his feet with a heavy thump. Strong thighs easily absorb the shock of the jump to allow the player to gracefully stand up. Excited high fives with a blond setter are shared, cheers for a successful play. Hinata Shoyou. Gods, the matches on tv never do it enough justice. He’s always better in person. You can’t help a low whistle, coming out your mouth as you make your way to Coach’s side, unaware of the pair of watchful eyes from your side.

Iwaizumi looks down at you to gauge your reaction to the play. He’s used to dropped jaws or people stopped in their tracks when watching Shoyo play. He still remembers his first time watching him play like it was yesterday, and not more than a decade ago. Especially for a non-Japanese native who may not be familiar with all the players, the wing spiker’s jump must’ve been astonishing. But there you are, surprising him instead. Not an ounce of shock on your face but instead a giant grin and a fire in your eyes that he often sees in the players’ eye. 

“Someone has secrets to spill later” he nudges you with an elbow before taking his spot on the other side of Coach Foster. Before you can respond to the insinuation, Coach is whistling the team over. In front of you stood all the players, with the starting 9 rotation in the front. A handful of them grab their towels to wipe sweat off their bodies, and take a much needed water break. Thank you Coach for allowing me this opportunity to enjoy this eye candy. You praise the gods above for boys teams being able to play shirts vs skins practices, before a hand comes down on your shoulder. “Say hello to our new physical therapist, Dr. F/N L/N. I hope everyone read the introductory email that was sent out. A lot more of her background details are shared there. She will be working with Dr. Burke and Iwaizumi on the medical team. Make her feel welcome, she’s traveled a long way to officially join our team.” He pushes you out a bit in front of the group. “Don’t know what more I can add after that introduction. Especially if you’ve already gotten my full government records shared via email, from the sounds of it. But if anyone hasn’t gotten a chance to read it, feel free to come ask any questions. I am an open book. I’m practicing my Japanese, so any guidance is deeply appreciated if I make any mistakes. I’m in your care, I look forward to getting along with all of you.” You smile and bow to the team. 

The team runs through introductions and begins breaking out into groups to get back into practice. A few players linger back to chat with you excited for a new face in the group.

“Finally, a friendly and pretty addition to the team. Amen!” says the blonde setter you watched earlier. “We welcome your much needed presence on the otherwise stoic and unappealing sidelines. Miya Atsumu at your service.” He reaches his hand out with a wink. You shake his hand with a chortle “Whaaat? You’re telling me you don’t enjoy Coach Foster’s dashing looks and heart stopping smile? Come on now. Or is it that you haven’t earned his infamous dimples yet?” You quirk an eyebrow at the setter who’s looking between you and Coach Foster in shock. “DIMPLES??!” He’s immediately trying to force eye contact with Coach, who’s rapidly walking away with a grumble. Snaps his head back at you “You must tell me more. The beast of the ice land giving out smiles? What is this preferential treatment and how do we enjoy this Y/N-san?” “That’s Dr. L/N to you. Some of us are just born with it” teasingly you huff on your fingers, buffing them out on your shoulder “but I can try to teach you my ways, Atsumu-san.”  “Sticking it to you on her first day. I like her” Sakusa Kiyoomi flashes you a thumbs up, while Atsumu crosses his arms pouting on the side. “I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi, nice to meet you Doctor. Good luck fixing the mental psyche that is this kid trapped in a man’s body.” He gestures to Atsumu, and before you can break up the fight to say that’s not how sports therapy works, a boisterous laugh erupts behind you. The laugh bounces off the walls, the sound registering itself in a secure corner of your brain, holding tight so you don’t forget the sound. Scratching all the right parts. Everyone turns around to see Iwaizumi with his head back laughing before calming down to a chuckle. “I like her too, especially if she can wrangle some of you idiots this quickly. Dr. L/N is well equipped to be helping with training materials and guidance as well. She’s an athletic trainer first before you have to knock on her office door. We’ll be working together on a lot, make sure to pay attention to her and don’t give her grief…” he pauses for a second to look over at you, who’s got a strong grip on the back of Atsumu’s jersey to hold him back from Sakusa who’s found himself behind Bokuto. “Or give her all the grief. She can handle it” he finishes with a smirk and a pat on your head before walking off to assist the players on court. “....are we all going to ignore THE Iwaizumi Hajime belly laughing and teasing the new girl? Like we’re all going to scream about this at the welcome party right?” The large player protecting Sakusa, points back at the retreating trainer with his thumb questioning the group. Shocked nods from the whole group before returning their attention to you. You let go of your hold on Atsumu’s jersey with a huff.

“You guys keep mentioning a party but I haven’t gotten a proper invite. Who are you welcoming if I’m not there?” you chuckle looking at the boys. 

The large player steps forward with a hand outstretched “Bokuto Koutaro, feel free to call me Koutaro! I should be surprised that you didn’t receive your invite, but considering we left that to Inu-san, it all makes sense.” The libero raises his hands in the defensive “I mixed up the order of names in the email. I forgot the first name last name thing.” Bokuto shakes his head with a chuckle “We’ll be heading out together after practice, feel free to join us. Can’t have the guest of honor not join.” “It’s time to get back to practice, boys. You can interrogate the doc later” Hinata Shoyo pipes up. He’s got a playful smirk as he rallies the boys away from you. “Take the time you need to collect yourself doctor” he sing songs while walking away. You can begin to feel the prickles of heat at the tips of your ears after the boys leave. Iwaizumi’s head pat had left you stunned, the warmth of the gesture gave you butterflies. You were not sure what to make of any of it, but wanted to make sure you didn’t give anything away on your face. You thought you got away with it, but Shoyo always notices everything. I’ll deal with him later.

It’s not often that you get flustered, let alone from someone you just met. But Iwaizumi-san’s playfulness caught you off guard. From most of the reports from Coach Foster, the trainer was described as reliable, diligent, and stern. But the man in front of you was charming, attentive, respectful, and expressive. And extremely easy on the eyes. 

Despite being surrounded by all the players, you often found your eyes peering over at your colleague. Half the fun of watching the rest of practice was watching Iwaizumi-san in action. You observed as Iwaizumi walked around the sidelines of the court observing each practice group. Helping correct posture mid play to ensure safety. Check in on stretching sessions, to help players with new stretches that would better help pains they were dealing with. Eyes drinking in the sight of the trainer showing new stretches, bending down as each muscle in his legs flex. His shorts riding up slightly from the stretch of his thick thighs having you gulping a ghost of a frog stuck in your throat. Thoughts of your hands running across the expanse of his back before wrapping around his shoulders. Pausing your court observation to physically wave away inappropriate thoughts. Crushes aren’t a new concept but this was something you hadn’t felt since you were in middle school being hit with puberty’s wrath. 

It’s not that he wasn’t all the characteristics Coach had shared, he was all that and more. Often stopping by your spot on the sidelines to point out other players and their common concerns and where additional consulting later would be beneficial. Each time, Iwaizumi-san would make some type of contact with you, that would send you into a mental frenzy. Hand on the edge of your seat, fingers barely grazing your knee as he peered over your notebook. His shoulder bumping against yours as he pointed out certain players to you. Hands grabbing both your shoulders to turn you to bring your attention to a play happening across the court, grateful for your long sleeve shirt covering the goosebumps on your arms. Stand up girl, you are a grown woman!! You’re granted a respite from the internal chaos when Coach sends Iwaizumi to the captain to talk about player rotations.

Albeit your teenage heart palpitations, the rest of practice went smoothly. Iwaizumi-san and you had fallen into an effortless rhythm. After observing group dynamics and game play, you had taken notes on a few of the players. On your way over to the trainer to get his thoughts on some workout routine adjustments, your attention is brought to the court.

The team had been caught up in serve practices which was beginning to frustrate some of the players. Coach Foster had always advocated for every player running really difficult plays or shots, repetitively. Not only to build up a repertoire of skills, but he believed that the difficulty and frustration brings out a truth in how a player handles a challenge. Today he was keen on having everyone run hybrid serves, not knowing which serve he would call out mid jump. The purpose of the hybrid serve is psyching out the opposing team, and control of the court mid air. It always starts as a jump serve, but he would then call out other styles to see how well the players can control their wrist movements. It’s an exhausting drill, especially because Coach has upped the ante and placed a water bottle along the attack lines and boundary lines of the court. He was now calling out locations for the players to aim to hit. Although there were some successes, the majority of the players were missing the targets with incomplete serves from not knowing which command the Coach would call out.

At the moment of another missed target, a loud cry rang through the court. Everyone peered over to see that the usually calm Sakusa-san was bent over muttering to himself before turning to shout. “It’s not enough time! You’re not maintaining any pattern in the serve switches and the locations. No one can serve these ridiculous plays.” He was huffing with clenched fists, wild eyes scanning the Coach’s face for any reaction. Sakusa-san had been playing calmly the entire day, but you had noticed he often went to the side for individual practice. He’d often repeat the same plays for a long time before being called for a group practice. “You’re analyzing the serve too much Sakusa-san. Listen for the location, your grip will adjust to the serve style that matches the location.” The advice had slipped out of your mouth while taking notes. You hadn’t meant to say anything and look up to the group staring at you. Coach had a small smile on his face and a glint in his eyes. Realization dawning on you on the reason he was relentless with this specific drill for the team. But before either of you could express anything Sakusa-san interrupted with a short laugh. “And what would you know about this? This isn’t a matter of an injury messing with my psyche or some childhood trauma rearing its head. This is a matter of game play. I don’t need advice from someone who doesn’t know what they’re talking about” he sneered. You could see a flash of regret on his face after the outburst. He was at a peak of burnout from the intense practice, but Coach Foster steps in between you both. He tosses you a ball and points to the service line. “On my whistle” he demands. Years later and you still know better than to question him when that tone comes out. With a sigh you hand your notes to Iwaizumi-san who’s failing at controlling his face, a mix of concern and confusion. “It’s been a long time you old fart…if I embarrass myself…” he hears you grumble to yourself as you get in position. Iwaizumi carefully watches as the boys on the court make way and you stand a few feet behind the serve line. Gathering your hair up in a ponytail, you stretch your arms before picking back up the ball. Your entire demeanor has changed from the contemplative and playful person he’s been watching throughout the day. He doesn’t know why, but he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you walked into the office. Everything about you intrigues him, makes him want to know every detail about the person before him who’s full of surprises. Every time he thinks he understands, you shock him. 

Just like now, as he watches you crouch and nod to Coach. Launching the ball high, taking two long strides before jumping on the third step. And jump you did, pulling all the air around you, right out of his lungs, bringing the court to a still as you went up. Coach’s command for a float serve follows before the whistle shrill has fully faded. Then comes the location, left corner of the attack line. Your grip adjusts on instinct, waiting for the height to fall a bit before making contact with your palm evenly. Your eyes don’t leave the targeted water bottle as you drop down. The ball makes clean contact to topple the bottle with a reverberating smack. You land on your feet harshly, forgetting about the worn out shoes you were wearing. Losing your balance from the lack of traction, you feel yourself slip, but you feel broad hands slide under your arms catching you from the back. Back thumping into someone’s chest, you tilt your head back to see Iwaizumi-san flashing you the largest grin, lit up from the back by the overhead lights causing a light halo around him. Pretty. You can hear your heart beating in your ears from the sudden physical activity, but it picks up speed. A blush spreads across your cheeks as you slip a little and lean back into his chest for support. “Easy there tiger, I got you” he says, easily straightening you up. The casual petname sending you into an embarrassing spiral. Immediately turning your face out of his vision, you’re trying to regain composure. He’s checking to make sure you aren’t injured as you remember now’s not the time to be simping for your hot colleague. But it’s time to be pissed at a pompous old man who’s always got you marching to his tune. You scan the court finding the target for your death stare chucking on the sidelines. “A float serve you demonic maniac?! And if Iwaizumi-san here hadn’t been my knight in shining armor to catch me, and I busted my ass in front of everyone? Then what?” You’re shaking your fist at Coach, who’s chuckle has grown to a full laugh as he walks over. Despite his laughs, he makes sure to check your ok, chastising your shoe choice before turning to the shocked group of players. “Let me reintroduce her, Dr. Y/N L/N, former setter and a 2x Women’s World Championships winner. Now the Physical Therapist for the MSBY Black Jackals. My former player.” He proudly announced to Sakusa who’s gone pale. Arms crossed waiting for the shock to subside. Kissing your teeth you politely step in front of Coach to end the embarrassment, keeping at bay a swell of warmth over the pride he has in you. “Please don’t brag about me to literal Olympians and Pro players. I’m retired, rusty, not on their level and not here to teach them a lesson. But Sakusa-san, my advice was purely in reference to your exhaustion. You were overthinking. I apologize for overstepping.” You shoot him a reassuring smile and reach out with your fist as an extension of friendship. He bows and reaches out to fist bump sheepishly. “But next time you want to cut me to the core, pick something more truthful and scathing. I like a challenge.” You tease with a wink drawing a small groan from the player as he covers his face with his free hand. 

The court erupts with a thousand questions and comments all at once. A swarm of giant bodies covering you before you can step out of the danger zone. A bronzed hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you out and into a familiar chest, thumping into Iwaizumi-san with a small huff. His other hand finds your waist to balance you; eyes look up into his olive ones that flash with an expression you can’t read. Clearing your throat, you glance at both his hands holding you, before he releases you with a quick apology. Hands up in defense, but his lips curling up into a smirk as the flush on your face grows. The lingering heat from his hand on your waist has every nerve ending in your brain going off. You mutter a thank you, shy now that the object of your disturbance was back to being front and center. No longer able to stop yourself from looking at him from top to bottom. Tall, dark, and handsome to a tee. Everything about him was broad and strong. Brain short circuiting just thinking of those same hands and body fully wrapped around yours, had you not had a modicum of dignity. Dignity be damned right now, may as well shoot my shot later. Brought out of your thoughts with a small cough from the trainer. “We can look at each other all we want tonight, but it’d be nice to talk properly and learn more about you. Especially so you can share any other secrets you’re holding on to Dr. Extraordinaire” he ruffles your hair lightly with a soft smile. Whatever witty retort on its way out your lips, caught in your throat, when he leans down to whisper in your ear “Can’t say I haven’t been enjoying checking you out the whole day too”. He relishes in the deep flush across your face and the tingle on his lips from grazing your ear. But when he sees your eyebrows furrow he panics a bit. Did he cross a line while caught up in the new feeling of butterflies in his stomach? Maybe he had read the situation completely wrong and you hadn’t been checking him out. Trying to gauge from your expression if he’s about to deal with a gnarly HR complaint, he sees your bottom lip stick out in a pout.

“You’re telling me I’ve been working hard taking notes all throughout practice to share with you when I could have been checking you out openly?” You swat at his chest before turning away from the man. “Coach definitely put my information in that intro email so not really a secret to spill if it was blasted out. Can’t fault me for no one reading it.” Your shrug met with Iwaizumi gaping at you. Rubbing the back of his neck before mumbling something about skimming the email, unaware how cute the whole moment is to you. Happy to know it’s not just you feeling nervous around the man, you throw caution to the wind. “Besides, I have way more fun secrets to learn than that, Iwa-chan~” you glance over your shoulder, looking up at the man through your lashes. Lips curling up into a coy smile as a light flush blooms across the man’s face from the choice of nickname sung out teasingly. The group of players snapping you both out of your bubble with the announcement of the end of practice and hitting the showers to get ready for the welcome party. You start to walk back to the office to grab your things when his voice calls out to you. “Hajime” You turn around to look at him. “Call me Hajime.” 

He catches up with you and gently places a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the shared office. “We can walk together, don’t want to waste another minute not learning.” He glances down with a smile hearing you giggle, a sound he pockets in a corner of his brain to hold on to forever. 

But definitely one he plans to hear throughout the night if he can help it.

[senditcolton]

So Tragic and Rare

"Are You What I Need?" (pt. 20)

word count: 2.9k warnings: none! just a lot of emotions masterlist

Another season ended. Another elimination from the playoffs. Another Eastern Conference Final without a single win.

And Andrei Svechnikov felt awful.

The feeling wasn’t new. It was the default when the hockey season ended without him lifting that silver chalice above his head. But this year felt different. And he knew exactly why. Unlike previous years where the goal of winning the Stanley Cup next season was focus of the off-season, he had different plans. He had planned to come home to an amazing woman.

That ideal off-season – one of him and Keely spending the summer together while he trained and she created and they both travelled the world was still fresh in his mind, even though now it seemed destined to stay a fantasy. And unlike the Stanley Cup, he wasn’t sure what he could do to get Keely Halloran back in his life.

Andrei tried to forget about her: her smile, her voice, her touch. Even though he never really wanted to erase her beautiful blue eyes and playful laugh from his memory. It just would’ve been easier for him. The playoffs did help, while they lasted. But now that they were over, he was left with a daunting summer alone. And those hopes and dreams returned to the forefront of his mind, now more painful since he saw no chance at making them a reality.

Instead of that sparkling summer he dreamed of, he sits in his Carolina house, the space empty and silent. His family had already gone back home, leaving him alone to wrap up any remaining responsibilities he had to attend to before joining them. He should be packing, should be organizing, should be doing something other than sitting on his living room couch, wallowing.

His phone buzzes from its spot on the table, a notification lighting up the screen. Andrei’s eyes glance down, registering the words on the Google Alert banner.

Keely Halloran performance at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

Andrei knows that he should’ve silenced these alerts long ago. They were partially the reason it all went downhill – the constant bombardment of headlines that involved rumors of her with someone who wasn’t him surely wasn’t good for his self-esteem. But after he left her Beacon Hill brownstone that evening in April, he didn’t have the heart to stop them. Call it morbid curiosity, call it being a glutton for punishment, he didn’t care. He wanted to know what she was doing, where she was going, who she was hanging out with. And in the months that they were apart, no alert had sent him spiraling. They were all pretty standard: interviews, paparazzi shots, recordings.

He had seen an announcement about new music amid the Eastern Conference Final series, the idea of listening to it pushed to the side. But now… he had nothing better to do.

Andrei walks to his office/gaming room to grab his wireless headphones, quickly connecting them to his cellphone before clicking the video link.

He can’t stop the pull of his heart as Keely walks onto the stage, the black lace jumpsuit as intoxicating as everything about her. The music begins and Andrei watches as she lifts the microphone to her mouth, the melody falling from her lips.

It was beautiful. She always sounded beautiful but this… it was mournful, it was apologetic. But more importantly, it felt like she was singing directly to him. Every lyric was an explanation, each line an apology.

The video ends and Andrei registers her gentle smile, ladened with melancholy. He sees her blue eyes, the normally electric irises now dark as a stormy sea. He fights back against the urge to replay the video, watch it on repeat, get his fill of seeing Keely’s face and hearing her voice. But something tells him that there was more of whatever story she was trying to tell.

His fingers move quickly, opening his Instagram, ignoring the thousands of tags and mentions and direct messages and typing ‘keelyhalloran’ into the search bar. Her profile pops up in an instant and he clicks the very first post.

It’s an album cover, the burnt orange as eye-catching as the image within the album title. Andrei’s eyes scan over the track titles before moving onto the caption that Keely added to the image. And every word feels as if it tugs at a deeper part of him, an instinct that says he wasn’t crazy. His instinct was right – this album was for him and he needed to listen.

So, he did.

The album is easy to find, the first thing that pops up when he types her name. Without hesitation, he hits play on the first track an allows the music to fill his ears. And when each song ends, he feels as if he knows more than he did before.

Every single song is another form of apology, another explanation, an insight into her thoughts and her side of their relationship, and their ending. Andrei could hear it on his first listen, but on his second listen with the lyrics scrolling in time with her voice he understood more, and on every subsequent listen, it felt as if each song was a letter addressed specifically to him.

Andrei was sure that if it were anyone else, they would see Keely’s words as an excuse, a way of writing off the hurt she caused. But he saw it as another look behind the curtain that obscured the real Keely Halloran – a woman that he admired and loved but admits that he didn’t know much about.

He should’ve learned, should’ve tried to understand the hurt that he saw still festering within her instead of pretending like this was just another relationship and she was just another girl.

He should call her. He should text her. He should reach out to her in some way. But what would he say? What words could he string together to make her realize that he understood now, that he took responsibility for the way things ended, that he was sorry: for not understanding, for the way he treated her, for everything he did or didn’t do, for –

The sound of a knocking on his front door filters through his headphones, echoing around the living room. Andrei’s hands hit the pause button on his phone, silencing Keely’s voice before removing the headphones from over his ears. He is half sure he imagined the sound or that it was some wild animal outside making the noise. But the knocking comes again, stronger this time. There was no doubt now that it came from someone on the other side of his front door.

Andrei lifts himself off the plush cushions, his mind flitting through the list of who it could possibly be. There were only a few people that were close enough to him to know his address, excluding delivery drivers and mail carriers. He wasn’t expecting a package of any kind, nor was he expecting an audience. The only logical possibility was a teammate, coming over to share the misery of a season ended too soon.

Andrei peers out the windows embedded in his front door and through the warped view of the glass, he sees the outline of a feminine figure standing on his front porch, a baseball hat perched on their head, their blondish hair flowing down their back.

A heavy sigh rushes through Andrei, his annoyance coming to the forefront. This happened sometimes – fans finding his address and not understanding what should be implicit boundaries between him and them. But as soon as that thought passes through him, he can’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy of his words. If this is how he felt about a single fan every few months, imagine how Keely felt not being able to step out of her house without someone taking her picture. It makes him feel guiltier about his demands back in April, his jealousy blinding him to the reality.

Andrei shakes his head gently before unlocking the door, pulling it open. He is ready to politely tell whoever it was to please leave. But his words die on his lips when she turns around, removing her sunglasses and those unforgettable cerulean irises meet his.

“Hi,” Keely says, her voice soft as if from a dream. Hell, Andrei wasn’t sure that he didn’t fall asleep on the couch and this was just a fantasy brought on from Keely’s singing still filtering through his headphones.

It’s a soft clearing of her throat that finally knocks Andrei out of his paralysis and he finally finds his own words.

“Hi.”

Andrei is sure he looks like an idiot, standing there dumbly the threshold of his house while Keely waits on his porch, her hands in front of her body, the fingers playing with the hem of yet another oversized band t-shirt.

“Can I come in?” she asks, her gentle voice floating into his ears.

“Oh, yea – yeah. Of course,” he responds, the words somewhat stuck in his throat. He steps back, holding the door open to her as she walks into his house. Andrei smells the aroma of her familiar cherry perfume and he is tempted to pull her close and commit the smell to his memory once again. He resists, watching instead as her eyes scan over the space. She had been here once before, during a long homestead for the Canes. She had managed to sneak down to North Carolina and meet him in his space for the first and only time before… well, before now.

After gently shutting and relocking the door, Andrei follows her into his living room. Keely politely sits on the edge of his couch, her body perched upright as if she was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

“How are you here?” he asks, his eyes surely wide at the fact that she was indeed here: in Raleigh, in his house, in his life.

“A private jet and a chauffeur helps.”

Her words and tone are teasing but Andrei can sense the apprehension hiding beneath them. Using humor to diffuse the situation – another thing that was uniquely Keely. He replies with a half-hearted chuckle as if to tell her that it’s okay; he’s just as nervous, just as uncertain as she is. He walks past to sit on the other end of the couch, angling his body towards her.

The silence falls and the only adjective Andrei can prescribe to the quiet is… heavy. Heavy with what? That much he wasn’t sure of. With the weight of everything they had said? The weight of everything left unsaid between them?

He follows her gaze as it dances around the space, registering the subtle changes in décor that his mom had added before her eyes drop to coffee table in front of them. He can see her zero in on his phone and with a quick glance, he sees that he left it unlocked, her album cover still emblazoned on the screen.

Keely’s eyes dart up to him and he stills, the stare stronger than he was expecting.

“Did you listen to it?” she asks, her voice soft.

“I did.”

“And… what did you think?”

The question is simple and if it were any other situation and if they were different people, the answer would be just as uncomplicated. But Andrei knows the implicit meaning behind Keely’s question. She didn’t want to know if he liked the music or the production or the lyrics; she wanted to know if he really listened to every that she was trying to say.

“It was… you,” he replies, his own voice gentle.

Those electric blue irises stay locked on him and he can see the small tilt of her head, a silent request for clarification.

“I felt you, when I listened. I understood, I – I heard you, Keely.”

He isn’t certain if his words are adequate enough, if they land perfectly so she herself understands what he is trying to say, but he doesn’t know what else to add.

What do you say to the person you never though you would see again? What do you promise someone who already has the world? What else can you give but understanding? How do you prove that you do now – finally – understand when you didn’t two months ago? How do you prove you’ve changed?

However, all of those questions spiraling inside Andrei’s skull silence when a gentle smile tugs at Keely’s lips, those blue eyes turning from ice to spring-water.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she replies, looking away with a light laugh, one that Andrei returns. He can see her body relax and his own body responds in kind. Her attention darts back to him and there is no stopping the skip of his heart in his chest at the sight of her clear earnest stare, emotions on clear display – not hidden beneath a mask of her own design.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, the apology that was laced within every song of her latest release now spoken directly to him.  

“So am I,” he tells her. Because it was the truth.

There was no one person to blame for their ending. He was insecure and impatient and ignorant to the reality of her world. She let her past control her reaction to his fears, overcorrecting in order not to get hurt again. They both shared the blame. They were both owed an apology.

“I missed you,” Keely continues, “You still aren’t easy to forget.”

The words are an echo from that first day at her recording studio in New York – another moment where she reached out to him to connect. A moment that was only achieved because he waited for her.

That was what Andrei forgot. He forgot about the promise he made back in Toronto, the first honest question Keely had asked him, the first time he saw the entirety of her. He had been blinded by the amazement of her, the impossibility of being allowed to float in her orbit that he somehow forgot that the bold, brash, confident woman in front of him had been hurt and was vulnerable to being hurt again.

“I… I was thinking. I mean,” Keely says, her voice pulling his attention fully to her. He watches as she trips over her words, her hands coming to the hem of her shirt, twisting the material around her fingers as a humorless chuckle falls from her mouth.

“This is insane.”

“Has this ever not been?” Andrei asks, his turn to lightly tease everything that they had been through, all the events that brought them to this moment. Keely returns his laughter, her blue eyes bright as they land on him. He sees her chest raise, hears the deep breath she takes, her body shifting ever so slightly towards him. He lets her gather herself, lets her take whatever time she needed before speaking again.

“I wanted to say – I came here to let you know that I’ve gotten better. Took the time I needed and… And if you want… I would like to try again.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I want to let you know that I can’t make any guarantees. Can’t promise that people won’t talk or whisper still. Can’t promise you that you won’t see and hear things that you might not want to. I can’t even promise that I’ll be perfect. There will be most likely be times where I’ll get scared and might falter. The only thing that I can promise is that… I like you and I want this – us – to work.”

Her words hang in the air, the truth of them echoing clearly. Andrei can’t stop the smile that appears on his face.

There she was. This was the woman that he fell in love with, this was the woman he wanted in his life. This was Keely – the entirety of her: honest, brave, vulnerable, hopeful, determined.

It is pure instinct that causes Andrei to reach out to her, gently taking her wrist, untangling her fingers from the fabric of her shirt and replacing it with his own calloused skin. He feels her warmth flow into him and he takes a moment to soak in the sunlight of her that he had been missing before locking his eyes with hers.

“Do you remember what you said to me, in Toronto, when I first asked you if you wanted… this? Wanted me for more than a night?”

A smile tugs at Keely’s lips and Andrei can almost see the memory of that moment in the tunnels of Scotiabank playing through her mind.

“Would you wait for me?”

“And you remember what I told you?”

“That you would.”

“I will. And I have been,” he says, his brown eyes staring into the ocean blue depths of hers. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up to a game or call me on the phone or come through my front door. I think would’ve waited an eternity for you to come back. Because I want you, Keely.”

Andrei’s hand tightens around hers, pulling her closer to him as if the action would emphasize his next words. He isn’t sure if it will. A part of him hopes it does.

“All of you.”

And when he sees that smile – that beautiful smile that pulled him into her gravity the very first time they met – appear on Keely’s face, he can’t help but smile in return.

She came back to him. And he’d be damned if he ever let her go again.

a/n: a reconnection!! surely everything will go smoothly from now on (says the author who has the entire fic planned out already). little bonus - this is the outfit Keely is wearing in this fic if you want the visual.

taglist: @fallinallincurls @laureniray @comphy-and-cozy@smileysvech@pyotrkochetkov @thewintersoldierdisaster @svexhenthusiast

let me know if you want to be tagged in this story or if you want to add yourself to my general taglist, click here!!

[moldybonessmell]

So.. There are some of my genshin characters' builds I'm kinda proud of + team comps as AR 60 playing for 3,5 years

(esp proud as f2p except for Shenhe skin)

______________________

Tartaglia main since year one he's my absolute babygirl

And I wasn't even simping for him, I liked him bc of the gameplay in the first Hyakunin Ikki event

Farmed hydro set for him, then the nymph set and then RE-BUILT him by farming the whole new nymph set the dedication is proved I think ahah

Childe C2 was a double accident trying to pull for Heizou and Freminet (I haven't got them btw lol)

The fact that his best team is still the International is vile but also incredibly based

______________________

Arlecchino enjoyer

Ngl I also wasn't really simping for her but for her gameplay and animations and ESPECIALLY SCYTCHE yes I did end up spending 100 f2p pulls for her weapon and I have no regrets

I use to play her in Overload team (with attack sands) but recently only been playing Vape

______________________

Neuvillette yes I'm a meta player

He's pretty straightforward and thankfully low-investment and he's been carrying me easily since release

I play him in few different teams, including double geo with Albedo, but teams other than Hypercarry are only for overworld

______________________

Fischl appreciator

Ngl I was pretty annoyed by her before this one summer event where we got to know her story and since then she easily became a top character for me (including damage-vise)

She's a sub-dps so I literally put her in every team I can lol

______________________

Proud Kaeya main

C6 Triple-crowed

Kaeya main day one. Literally the reason I started to play genshin. I didn't even know it's gatcha at the time imagine that. Just saw a pretty character on twitter and decided to try. I'm like super lucky he's standard chara lol

I've tried a few different builds over the years (physical, freeze, melt) and end up stopping at melt one

Yes, he's in his og outfit even tho I have the skin, I just like it more

Even pulled Shenhe for him (even tho she ended up being my absolute favourite female chara in genshin) I even got the skin for her and broke my f2p journey

Her build is hybrid, support noblesse but also cryo goblet for some damage

And yes, she has her signature, but to be honest I was trying to pull for Mistsplitter for Kaeya

I play them both in Melt comp

______________________

Alhaitham autism bonding /j unless

He's just that bitch you know. Plus I'm a meta player once again.

He's rocking 3* weapon because he's a low-investment king definitely not bc I'm broke

Hyperbloom team is my favourite yes I put him with 2 archons and what about it

Kuki is my queen btw but she's low-investment support so there's no need to show her build. I actually liked her since release and KNEW she's gonna get better over time.

______________________

Traumatised like Xiao

I was saving the entire first year I played just to get him (I started to play on his banner but couldn't get him), I never got any Inazuma 5* except for Kazuha just to get Xiao.

..And then devs decided to rerun him every 3 months FUCK

I was definitely hurt but oh well

Tried many different builds and teams for him (even pulled Albedo for double geo). Every time he was getting buffed, I got this chara/artifact.

Is my build doing enough damage? Still no. But he's still my favourite deadly little meow meow and I'm not ashamed to admit it (I kinda do cringe writing this please know it's meta ironic)

______________________

Last but not least Tighnari

Liked him since beginning and yes I did pull on his banner instead of waiting for standard and I don't regret it. He's a good dps and best standard chara

Tighnari's is a day-one build btw I haven't changed it since he came out I think it's still good.

______________________

That's it, thank you for reading if you did haha!!

[flowers-of-io]

Inspired by the tags under this post by @ninerivens <3 I wrote the majority of this fic back in Haunted and kinda forgot about it whoops, hence why I’m posting it at such a random moment.

Read on Ao3

When the H.E.L.M. was being designed, there was one room tucked under its left wing that had a table with two chairs and a coffee machine, and many blinking monitors covering all of the widest wall. It turned out to be a good place to sit and talk when the main area was occupied, or just to and gather thoughts over a cup of awfully bitter coffee, and Zavala liked to watch it transform over the months of use: an Imperial banner looted from the Halpheas Electus strung over the kitchen counter, some spare parts left by Corsairs and gathering dust in the corner, a third chair brought here by an Eliksni technician when they were celebrating Crow’s “rez-day” here, back when things were simpler. Several mugs in significantly differing sizes clutter the cupboard. There is even a bedroll tucked behind the table, one Zavala has found himself sleeping on more than a few times lately. Crow has been talking about bringing more of those, maybe even a bunk bed, maybe some more folding chairs or a clock or a microwave. A Cabal-sized ottoman occupies one corner, next to a pile of blankets.

It is quiet here, now, save for the soft buzz of monitors and Crow’s measured breathing as he slumbers on the bedroll spread out under the opposite wall, curled around Glint like a cat. It must be horrendously late by City standards, but Zavala still holds a cup of fresh coffee, huffing on the surface and feeling hot vapour caress his face. The monitors blink—shifting images of the Leviathan’s rooms from different angles, awfully familiar by now, making his skin crawl all the same. He barely registers the quiet rustle as the door behind him slides open.

“Zavala,” the voice is soft, but he almost spills the coffee with how abruptly he turns around.

“Ca— Empress,” he stumbles, because this is an official space, even with all the mess and his lead scout currently snoring in the corner; but she only gives a weary shake of her head and he settles on, “Caiatl.”

“Could you… spare me a moment?”

“Always,” he moves to give her some room. With how small and cluttered the place is, her arm almost brushes against his shoulder when she comes to stand beside him.

Tension radiates off her, he can see it in how stiff her back is and how she clasps her hands in front of her, knuckles white, in the stained expression on her unhelmeted face. Worry curls in his stomach, but he doesn’t rush her—only watches as she stares at the monitors for a moment, then finally turns her gaze to him.

“The severance ritual,” she begins.

“Are you… alright?” An impulse makes Zavala want to put a hand over hers, but he resists it. Caiatl draws in a breath.

“Ghaul’s… the phantom’s words…”

“They’re lies,” he says immediately.

“They’re my own thoughts.” She looks away, and speaks slowly, as if every word was being pushed through her lips with great effort. “My own doubts. I… I fear putting the lives of my men in the Guardians’ hands. Every time, I’m second-guessing myself when I send them under someone else’s command.”

“That is a reasonable concern to have.”

“I fear I’m not taking something into account and will end up with a knife in my back, just like my father. I’m weighing the Guardians’ motives. The Red Legion razed your City; sometimes I have nightmares about my armada burning, a fair vengeance for that war.”

Zavala watches her wring her fingers, rings clicking against each other. Her hands must be warm, even in the coolness of the H.E.L.M., and they are soft and wide and safe, and he is trying not to think about this now but cannot help himself.

“Some time ago you said, ‘trust is still being built’.” He looks to her face half-turned away, blue streaks on her profile flickering in sync with the monitors. There is no accusation in his tone as he continues, “Are you worried I will betray you?”

“No,” she says this instantly, and then frowns, as if considering the words only after she had uttered them. “No, not you. I would lay my life in your hands.”

This is not spoken like a vow or a confession, but Caiatl is looking at him now, and something warm and so very soft coils in his chest without a warning. He puts the mug down.

“I wanted this to be clear between us,” she presses on, “and that what you heard—”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he interrupts, and shakes his head when she opens her mouth to speak. “You’ve never given me a reason not to trust you. We all have fears, but they’re not who we are.”

She sighs, “Zavala…”

“Caiatl.” He moves, because the tension is unbearable, because she keeps looking at him like she wants a way out but can’t find it, because her eyes glow dimly in the darkened room and he couldn’t break their gaze even if he wanted to. His hand touches her forearm and he marvels at the softness of her skin, at the electricity upon contact that has nothing to do with the Light. Caiatl’s shoulders slump, and she reaches back, her fingers brushing the side of his face.

From there it is easy to lean in, his forehead coming to rest against her chestplate and her chin atop his head, and then her arms curl around him, and he breathes in the mixed scent of musk, iron and herbs. They stay like this for a long, wonderfully warm minute; until a soft chuckle escapes Zavala and Caiatl hums at this inquisitively.

“You’d think it would be harder. This,” trapped in the embrace all he can do is shrug unhelpfully, though Caiatl’s gentle nod suggests she understood. “But frankly, I’ve found it quite effortless.”

“Easier than most things lately,” the small scoff she breathes out is almost a laugh. He shifts to look up at her, at her golden eyes and glimmering ring-bands, the long carved tusks casting strange shadows across her face.

Facing the risen Hive. Losing his faith. Falling in love. Losing his son, again, in a whole new and terrifying way, almost losing himself in the process. That moment in the Hangar when he watched Caiatl storm towards Crow and for one horrible second was ready to kill her.

He wants to speak but finds himself choked up.

Caiatl releases him and takes half a step back, though her hands still linger loosely on his shoulders. Her gaze wanders to Crow, curled up in a fetal position on the bedroll, his face smooth and calm under the few strands of hair that fall over it.

“I envy such peace.”

Zavala follows her eyes and for a moment they stay in silence, listening to the Hunter’s measured breaths. He moves slightly, only once, and his arm curls to hold Glint tighter to his chest.

“Sometimes I worry the only peace he ever gets is when he’s sleeping,” Zavala says quietly.

“And you?” She turns back to him, assessing him with her gaze.

“Hmm?”

“Have you been sleeping lately?”

He opens his mouth and stumbles, because it’s hard to lie straight to her face, “…there was a lot of work.”

“I see.”

“I’m fine, Caiatl.”

“If so, why are you making excuses?” She tilts her head, humour twinkling in her eyes. “Another thing I told you was that a true warrior knows when to fight and when to rest. Do not make me doubt your prowess, Commander.”

From his corner of the room Crow gives off a single, definitive snore, and this seals the spell. Caiatl chuckles, a warm and rumbling sound, and Zavala suddenly realises just how heavy his limbs feel—between coffee and the crutch that is Targe’s Light, he really hasn’t been sleeping for days. The Cabal otoman in the corner now looks incredibly appealing.

“Maybe I should heed your advice more often,” he says with a small smile. Caiatl lifts her tusks in amusement.

“You’d better.” The hand ghosting over his shoulder moves to scoop up his palm, and he squeezes her fingers. “See me tomorrow?”

“With pleasure.” A cynical voice in his mind whispers that the rate of crises as of late would have them meet whether they’d like it or not, but he brushes it away. They linger like this for a moment, until Caiatl lets go of his hand and pointedly gestures to Crow with her chin.

“Go rest. It must be late for you.”

She leaves with a smile in her eyes, and the warmth of it settles inside Zavala’s chest somewhere between the lungs, making him breathe deep and easy. He sinks into the otoman, head turned away from the blinking screens that buzz with a pleasant white noise. It is oh so warm, warmer still when he pulls a blanket over himself, and his bones all but melt into the plush as he drifts off. Crow mumbles something in his sleep. The measured footsteps of security frames come from the other room. A sensor beeps, somewhere far enough not to care.

And then there is no sound at all.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Any spicy as all hell Nyo!America headcanons?

I do! Enjoy!

Viewer discretion is advised. This is a spice post.

Just like with normal America Nyo! America brings tons of energy to the bedroom too. This also means if you’re a guy …I hope you have the stamina to keep up. If not you won’t be feeling your pelvic region for awhile. Standing much less walking will be a hassle for you. 

One of Amelia’s favorite positions is ‘cowgirl’. This position allows her to feel like she is large and in charge. While that is not entirely true, she controls more of the depth and pace at which the two of you go. You can also expect she’ll say stuff like ‘Giddy up!’ and or ‘Yee-haw’ while she rides you (with strap on) or you ride her (she’s still going to be on top). She’ll rise a man like a dead horse and a woman like a dead fish if neither at least tries to caffeinate themselves beforehand and maybe also have a decent level of pain tolerance. 

Amelia loves to give you hickeys but not receive them. (or like to)  The woman likes to imagine herself as an adventurer with passionate escapades and leaves no trace. (Except emotionally with a memory of an inflamed night that makes your loins ache) 

Her tit jobs are immaculate. Being that Amelia has 24DDD breasts, she can make most men she massages begin to sing the star spangled banner or they begin to see stars. 

Cowgirl lingerie for her is obvious. Other lingerie she likes to wear is: A red Bikini with matching white bows that replace her standards stars. Lastly, her underbust navy blue corset (Courtesy of Francine) lets the ladies have some air while she pairs it with a thong, fishnet stalkings, and high heels. 

“Step on you?”  Oh yes, Amelia will do so in her 9-inch stilettos. There will be marks, bruises, puncture wounds, and scratches when she’s done with you. 

Loves to hog-tie you while she plows into you, pegs you, or whips you. 

Primarily she’s on top 90% of the time. If you want to be a bottom with her, then its best that you know how to be rough in bed and do ‘The Wishbone’ and do it well. If you know how to make her orgasm multiple times in a row, then you better believe you’re going to get dome and/or hand job after. 

[mcx7demonbros]

So I played the Angelic Demons event

And here's what I think about it.

What I love. It has a cool and moving background of the Celestial Realm. I also love that they put the image of Lucifer and Mammon from the Memory Card on the banner (image above)

Now what I hate. Literally everything else.

First, the story. The problem or the conflict of the story wasn't resolved at the end of the event story. At the end of the story, Lucifer recovered from the effect of the bangle + Diavolo's magic due to his own mighty power but he wasn't turned back to his demon form, and the other brothers were still stuck in their angel minds.

Second, the characters.

Diavolo. I hate him the most in this event. Lucifer is his best friend and the other brothers are his loyal subjects, but dude didn't even think about their emotion and just put angel outfits on them with magic. Now with NB context, I found Diavolo's action even more unacceptable. Not only that, he had the audacity to laugh about it. I know you are a sadistic demon prince, but still, it's not a laughing matter. And then he had more audacity to say "I'll find a way to solve this" with a more serious face (as if he didn't laugh at all 5 seconds ago). At the end of the story, Diavolo's dialogues and attitude made me feel like he didn't even try to solve the problem but just let it gradually resolved itself (there wasn't an indication that it would be the case until Lucifer's recovery of his own will at the end of the story). Man, I just want to slap his face.

Simeon. Hypocrite. One second, he said he didn't know anything. The next one, he said Michael put a spell in the bangles and he didn't tell the brothers because he wanted it to be a surprise. So which was it, Simeon? You did know or you didn't know? Also, dude was happy because the brothers turned into virtuous angels without free will. What's wrong with you? It wasn't even them when they were angels.

The Brothers. My poor boyfriends / husbandos. Against their will (except Asmo), they were forced to wear the angel outfits. Tricked by Simeon, they wore the bangles, which combined with Diavolo's magic, turned them into virtuous angels. During this period, they didn't possess free will. The magic of the bangles forced them practice what it considered to be virtuous. It's certainly wrong, even by virtue standards, because virtues can't be acquired without free will. When the brothers were angels, they weren't virtuous angels to begin with, so the bangles didn't turn them back to their former shelves, but completely new strange angels to us. During this whole period, the brothers retain their minds, but they weren't able to act on their free wills. So it was them and it wasn't them talking to you at the same time. For example, Satan, after the body switching incident in S1 of the OG, he has always been kind to us. Under the influence of the bangles, he's still kind to us, but something's different. It it were the normal Satan, when we tease him, he would laugh before saying "I hope you are prepared for the consequences of teasing me" and then it would be pay back time. But the Satan under the magic of the bangle was just nice, he would just laugh at our tease and be calm. He even admitted that he couldn't be angry. Also, Satan was never an angel. Diavolo's action (it was his fault first and foremost) brought him unwated, strange and complicated emotions and feeling. Or Beel, who always shares his food with us. Under the magic of the bangle, he still shared food with us, but he wanted to share food with the less unfortunate ones. The idea's certainly noble, but it's wrong coming from Beel's mouth because it wasn't genuine, he said them under the influence of the bangle. And don't let me talk about how Lucifer and me were cockblocked by the bangle. To me, that's just seriously wrong. Honestly, imo, if the magic of the bangles was more permanent, the brothers would be gradually brainwashed. Also, now we have NB context, I felt like the brothers' emotions were being trampled on. All that pain they went through, in the end, nothing but toys.

Michael. Now this archangel is a complicated case for me because I don't know much about his powers. There are instances which show he knows about the future but it's not explicitly confirmed. If it's not the case, I honestly don't blame Michael because he didn't foresee the magic of the bangles would be amplified by Diavolo's magic and his intention was possibly a small prank for the brothers. If he does know about the future, like Barbatos, he shares the this same sin with Diavolo and he should fear my wrath. (Diavolo will always be guilty because he has Barbatos and thus, he can indirectly know about the future from Barbatos. So he knew about Michael's prank but decided to go further than that. He's spoiled even more than Belphie. There are times I wish his mother were alive to teach him lessons).

Other characters. Barbatos went MIA this event, while Luke and Solomon pretty much being their usual shelves. They also share MC/us/my feeling and emotions during the event.

The music. Many times the music was at the wrong place and the wrong time. Like it wasn't a funny scene at all but joke music was played. It wasn't funny, I felt like it was mocking the player and the brothers.

Conclusion,

Angelic Demon Event ❌

Trampling on the brothers' emotions Event ✅

[birder-of-remnant]

Now, I would like to introduce part 2 of my top 12 list of obscure RWBY villians! Spoilers Ahoy! Naturally, this list also contains several spoilers for the various RWBY comics, manga, games, and splinter video series. Continue at your own peril! Starting with number 6 and working our way down to number 1.

6. Dr. Merlot - Honestly, I am a little surprised that I am placing Dr. Merlot this high on the list. If Hei Xiong is your standard mob boss-type villian, than Dr. Merlot is your poster child mad scientist. Basically like Arthur Watts, if Arthur was a flat Saturday morning cartoon villain. Stereotypical or not, he is still an entertaining villain in the game 'Grimm Eclipse' (as well as in the 'Combat Ready' board game). He even received the honor of having his own theme song, courtesy of Jeff and Casey Williams.

5. Master - This is perhaps the strangest entry on this list. The honorific of 'villain' is also a bit of a stretch. This one comes from Ruby's Anthology manga. In this manga, a mysterious red-cloaked figure begins causing mischief around Beacon. Stealing people's weapons, beating up upper classmen, and most grievously, ruining Juane's precious comic books. Ruby decides to take preemptive action to stop this doppelganger before an angry mob can form to beat the cookies and rainbows out of her. This Ruby lookalike is actually a berserk robot that Penny had borrowed as a surprise for Ruby. Together, they vanquish this creepy monstrosity right before a an oddly smiling Weiss murders Ruby for getting her sword broken. Honestly, this whole ordeal made no sense, but was surprisingly amusing.

4. Emperor of Mistral - Faunist slavery? Check. Cultural subjugation and attacks on the arts (except for himself). Check. Warmongering to expand his power. Check. Hypocritical booger-eater? Check. In other words, a real bog-sucking meanie-head. Dare I go on? He is only mentioned during the 'World of Remnant' series and so little is known about him other than for these charming traits. Still, I will place him at number 4 due to how well he fits the bill as an obscure villain.

3. The Warrior - An enigmatic servant of Salem, this villain is cut straight out of the 'Fairy Tales of Remnant'. In the story, 'The Infinite Man,' a group of people rally around a hero who is said to reincarnate. This group becomes 'The Circle,' an organization determined to protect humanity from the Grimm and bring peace to the land. And just like the Huntsman Academies that would serve the same role in the future, this society inevitably falls into ruin. The Warrior invades The Circle and challenges the Infinite Man to a battle. Through the ferocity of their fight, great damage is done to the town and The Infinite Man worries that nothing will be left if he continues the fight. This was his last and gravest mistake in that life. After forfeiting his life, The Warrior breaks her promise and kills nearly everyone. There are morals to this tale. But for those, you should read the book.

2. System No. XX - What do you get when you cross GLaDOS from Portal with Ellen DeGeneres (idk, she was the first witty person who came to mind)? This entertainingly psycho computer from the game 'Blaze Blue: Cross Tag Battle'. In it, warriors from four different universes (BlazBlue, Persona 4: Arena, Under Night In-Birth, and of course, RWBY) are trapped in a separate reality and forced to compete for survival in this comedic fighter game. I honestly have no interest in figher games. But the constant humor and surprisingly on-character dialogue from Team RWBY make the game surprisingly entertaining. I also just like how they were still students at the time they were abducted but are still able to kick butt against people like Ragna. ANYWAYS, System No. XX might be manipulative and cutthroat, but they sure know how to bring some levity to survival situations. Combine that with the RWBY-specific ending and they have landed on the number 2 spot for me (banner photo for this post is of Ruby fighting No. XX from this game). Definitely cut from a different circuit board than Penny, at least on the whole enslaving human souls' front.

The Crown - Those of you who have read the RWBY books will know what I am talking about. And those of you who haven't should be reading those books right now instead of this boring blog post. Or even better, listening to it. Following the happenings of Team CFVY after the Fall of Beacon, these books (excluding Roman Holiday) are wrapped up in a conspiracy brewing in Vacou over a mysterious group of people known as The Crown. I will not delve into it hear less I spoil the story, so I encourage any RWBY fan reading this to check it out for themselves. While the events in this book take place in Vacou between volumes 4 and 8, I doubt that Volume 10 will make many references to these events to avoid confusing the 99% of people who have not read these stories. But, I hope they add some easter eggs in at least! But first, we need to Greenlight Volume 10!

For the three of you who were bored enough to read this blog post, thank you! I am done rambling now, goodbye.

[marvel-ousmondays]

The Avengers (Avengers Assemble)

So it took me a week to finish watching The Avengers.

It wasn't the movie's fault. It's a great film, especially if you are into the action-packed, fighting scenes. The dynamic between characters is great, and it has one of (if not my absolute) favorite quotes of the series.

But it is 2 hours and 23 minutes long and I had a weird week in terms of work, plus I wasn't actually feeling like watching a bunch of fight scenes. So it took a hot minute. Also, I had just finished season 2 of Loki not that long ago and going back to really bad Loki was a bit hard. He has few if any redeemable qualities in this one.

I'm not going to attempt a standard review given my less than standard watching procedure. I'm just going to call out things I liked.

Scarlett Johansson as Black Widow will forever be flipping incredible. In the Battle of New York where she's jumping on the flying Chitari and such- epic. But also her clear care for Barton and her emotional manipulation of both the criminals at the beginning and Loki later on- chef's kiss. I'm so glad she's the one to close the portal.

(Quick side note/small spoiler- there's a fan theory going around that her "feelings" for Banner in Ultron are all fake, just a method of control. I call bullshit. She is clearly fascinated by him throughout this film. If anyone's feelings are fake, it'd be Banner's, but Mark Ruffalo is too genuine for us to ever know.)

Erik Selvig and Barton both under Loki's control and then when they come out of it did incredible jobs. I particularly like the writing of Selvig under Loki's control- the science fascination unbridled, versus any actual desire for power. I think this hits the Tesseract's power and Loki's manipulation abilities dead on- they don't project what Loki would assume others would want onto them- they magnify the worst parts of anyone's desires and abilities. Barton is a master strategist and Selvig wants to understand every aspect of the cosmos. Generally these are traits they've put to good use. But under Loki, they're manipulated into awful acts.

Samuel L. Jackson's line "I recognize the council has made a decision, but as it is a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it" could be emblazoned on my tombstone and I'd be happy. The delivery was pitch perfect and always makes me laugh, while also being deadly serious.

Coulson- Clark Gregg's best role by far and the small amount of fanboying here just humanized his normally very stoic disposition so well. So glad they did opt to bring him back and in style.

I'm a huge Mark Ruffalo fan, both as an actor and just as a human being. It was incredibly difficult to come in after Edward Norton to fill this role but he nailed it. The moment when he tells about how he tried to commit suicide and the Hulk spat the bullet back out breaks my heart every time. There's obviously a lot of parable here about learning how to channel your anger. I personally think anger has gotten a bad rap, especially among women and activists. Righteous anger, as Starfire might say (yes, I know, I'm daring to mix DC and Marvel again, fight me later), is a powerful motivator. Anger can fuel us to change that which needs changing, but it has to be directed. Hulk shows that well enough. But I also appreciate the slow realization by Banner throughout the film that the Hulk is less crazed, destructive monster and more protector. We're not *there* just yet by the end- there's still some concern, but he's beginning that process of acceptance and understanding.

Captain America is mostly well written here, particularly in demonstrating he doesn't just follow the U.S. or orders blindly any more. He still sees himself as a soldier, but when Tony and Bruce alert him to the smell of fish in the air, he goes looking for answers. This is key character development for him as there was a time where he would have considered himself more bound to higher-ranking officials. However, I would wager Marvel regrets the one "God" comment they made in there as it doesn't really fit him overall.

Stark and Thor perform well, I just don't have a lot of commentary for either. Their rivalry is solid, though the idea that Thor would leave his brother unattended, even in remote mountains, seems unlikely.

I will also argue for more women sooner but that ship has sailed. I had forgotten about Thanos in the post- credits scene, so that was a good addition.

Note for me

Directed by: Joss Whedon

[secretkittywolf]

Genshin challenges

I've set myself a challenge in Genshin - well 2 actually and I'm going to be doing them.

The first is one that I've already started. It's where I pick 14 teams out of the 15 team slots and build each character, test their abilities and see if the team comp works. I have 3 teams built and I'm working on the 4th at the moment. It's quite fun and I enjoy testing out the teams, plus it's great for when the spiral abyss resets so I have other team comps to use.

(The 15th slot is for random teams used to fight bosses. I have a team that I use exclusively for the Ruin Serpent and a team exclusively for Azhdaha. Need to make more for the other bosses)

The second one is starting tomorrow.

As of 4.6, I will not be spending a single primogem at all. This will be my hardest challenge since I will not only be doing this for all of 4.6, but also up until 5.0. I want to see just how many primogems a f2p player can get from just dailies, maintenance, exploration, events, the spiral abyss (still can't 36 star btw), character trials, redeem codes, achievements etc.

In the 3 years I've played, no money has been spent so I'm completely f2p and since I'm more of a spender of my wishes than a saver, I wanna try and save. I did save recently because I badly wanted Kazuha and managed to save up 30 wishes and got him and his signature weapon, by skipping the banners: Xianyun & Nahida, Xiao & Yae Miko and Chiori & Itto. The last day I spent was on the 2nd of February and I got Gaming. I was pretty proud of my saving achievement and decided to raise the stakes.

So during 4.6, 4.7 & 4.8, no primogems will be spent HOWEVER, acquaint fates will be. Since I'm doing the team challenges as well, I will need to level up characters, thus giving me free acquaint fates as well as the free Battle Pass section gives you 5 acquaint fates.

The fountain of Lucine will update on 4.6, thus giving me more and I still have the Inazuma & Sumeru trees to level and get more acquaint fates that way. All intertwined gates from the fountain and trees and primogems, however, can not and will not be touched.

When 5.0 is announced, I will choose my character I want and see if I can AT LEAST get them and their signature, if not just them will do. I have won my 50/50 in both the character and weapon banners, so there's a chance that I may lose but hopefully I will have enough to get them and win. I may get lucky (I really hope so!) and get them early or win my 50/50, but knowing my luck; I'd need a miracle for that to happen.

I will do posts regarding my progress of anyone's interested and cry at the fact that Arlecchino, Clorinde, Sigewinne, Sethos and reruns like Baizhu, Wanderer and others will be unavailable to me and I must try and not cave in and spend. With only acquaint fates to use, I may get lucky and finally get either Tighnari or Dehya and then I'll have all standard banner 5 star characters; even if Dehya sucks.

So yeah, that's my 2 challenges and tomorrow begins the hardest one. Yippee

[cripple-culture-is]

i have a genuine question.

i'm very sure i'm physically disabled on some sort of level(?), and doing research, i have seen other disabled folk say that my experiences are valid. i have seen people say that unnamed/unknown/undiagnosed disabilities are still such, and should be included in the discussion. i know how limited i am in terms of all the things i can't really do, such as stay outside or even stand for very long, and i often get many headaches just for doing minor things like that. i'm also prone to chronic pain/illness, albeit quite mild, but i feel like any of it's not enough to earn me a voice. there's some sort of guilt i have when i want to claim a community label or discuss my experiences, as i wonder if i'm speaking over people who have it worse than me and definitely do know everything about themselves with the confidence to justify their place.

do you think someone like me belongs in disabled safe spaces? would i get harassed and booed out for using my privilege to fake and deceive my way in? am i not really disabled and/or should i seek a much lighter, open to questioning, unprioritized, etc. version of the wider community so that i can get what i need without intruding on those who need it more? i'm just afraid of offending people who are actually, clearly disabled. i assume it's possible for someone's life to be physically difficult to navigate due to complications without necessarily being classified as disabled. y'know?

Thank you so much for the question! I am very happy to answer it 😁

I'm going to preface this by saying there is no such thing as being "not disabled enough". There are disabled people with higher and lower support needs (I have low support needs, my wheelchair using relative has high support needs), but no one is inherently "not disabled enough".

People tend to think of disability as being linear. They see the disability spectrum as ranging from being "less disabled" to "more disabled". That's not true. Not everyone with the same condition will manifest the same way.

Not everyone with my medical condition is disabled. While I seem "less disabled" than my relative, I am still equally disabled under U.S. law.

There are always people who will have something worse than you. But the more you think about them, the more you begin to ignore your own struggles. It can fall into the realm of "toxic positivity". By thinking "Oh, I don't have it that bad, someone else has it worse", you kind of gaslight yourself into thinking you're completely fine when you're not.

I read actually a lot of internalized ableism in your comment. Happens to all of us. It honestly makes me cringe, but it's definitely not your fault.

From my own experiences, you belong here. People think that only visible disabilities are VALID disability. Those with "actual clear" disabilities. But most disabled people actually have invisible disabilities.

I am NOT visibly disabled. I don't use a wheelchair, cane, or any other type of mobility aid. I have an autoimmune disease that causes chronic pain, inflammation, and joint damage. I have been physically disabled my entire life.

Trust me when I say that you not being visibly physically disabled DOESN'T MEAN you aren't physically disabled.

July is Disability Pride Month, yes, it's the 31st, so the last day of July. But the point still stands. There's a banner on the Disability Pride Month pride flag for people like us. The white banner stands for invisible and undiagnosed disabilities. There is definitely a space here for you.

You aren't "faking" or "deceiving" your way into the disabled community. Will you be harassed? Maybe. There is some ableism within even the disability community. I've been harassed in real life for using things I have a legal right to, merely because I'm not "clearly disabled".

I can guarantee that if you saw me, you would just see a "standard", "normal", non-disabled 20 year old girl. 100%. I know because that's how most people see me. But I'm physically disabled under American law.

There is space for you here. You are welcome here. And I do not tolerate ableism of any kind on this blog, therefore, you're safe here, and your experiences are just as valid as any of the other physically disabled people here ❤️

Most non-disabled people don't run into barriers in society when it comes to what they can do physically. Chronic pain is ALWAYS considered a disability under U.S. law, and if (and hopefully when) you get a chronic illness/chronic pain diagnosis, you are automatically protected under the ADA. If you run into issues standing for long periods of time, you are likely disabled. I struggle with the same exact thing.

And I know most people DON'T struggle with that. Earlier this year, I saw 20+ people stand up for the entirety of a junior hockey game, including intermissions, and that was about 1 and a half to 2 hours long. I can only stand in one spot for about 2-5 minutes without my knees and feet hurting, to the point where I will always shift my weight from foot to foot when standing.

And I'm also going to be 100% honest with you. People will say "those who need it more". There actually AREN'T many accommodations for disabled people, and there's actually no shortage of accommodations for disabled people. They are just HIGHLY HIGHLY gatekept by the non-disabled government and withheld, sometimes even from those who need it.

You belong in this community, and you are welcome here ☺️

[ultimate-muscle]

Since Kinnikuman is getting a new series, I've had some concerns. The property is understandably a product of its time, and it's chocked full of outdated stereotypes and unsettling imagery (Brocken Jr. and Geronimo's messy heritage comes to mind), which is one of the reasons why it was never fully localized in the west, to begin with. So I'd wonder if they'll ever try to fix those problems or consider possibly hiring sensitivity readers for their works. Sadly, I doubt it would ever happen; but I honestly wish the authors could work around some of their cast to adapt to current times. What do you think should happen?

I think the old work should stand.

It was a product of its time and culture, and it's been edited as necessary by the authors over time (current volumes have been censored accordingly, and the worst has already been removed). The manga is problematic, but I agree with companies like Warner Brothers and Disney; better to keep things as a record of the past than to remove them or change them. That being said:

A new anime needs to make changes.

The issue I have answering this is more 'do I talk about ideal changes for us in the West' or 'realistic and needed changes for Japan'. I think really it's two different questions, so I'll talk about what I think should happen - and will probably happen - for Japan. That is to say . . . not much. I don't think much is needed.

It's easy to remove Nazi symbols from Brocken, and his current design lacks those symbols anyway. They can easily just remove references to him being a Nazi, and instead he can just be a 'soldier'. Kinnikuman Great can go back to his original red design. Ramenman cannibalising a person can just go back to the original gore (or a broken back). The "Roots" arc can be generally edited or left out.

I think if people have a problem with how nationalities and ethnicities are depicted, and we're talking about Japanese modern standards of racial sensitivity . . . they might be disappointed. For the culture in which it's written, I think it's been pretty great with diversity and representation. We have a black man as a hero. We have a native American as a really inspirational character. We have Americans and Russians shown in positive lights. We have people of all sorts coming together under the banner of 'friendship'.

I think Geronimo is still going to have his headdress and go "owahahaha" in battle, and Ramenman is still going to have stereotypical eyes like a South Park character, and . . . while I don't agree with it, I think we just have to accept that it's a Japanese anime, and that for a Japanese anime (bar the situation regarding female characters), it's going to be pretty ideal.

Now, in terms of the West . . .

I think the best option is to leave the animation exactly as it stands (unless they somehow did keep the swastikas and such), and edit the dialogue in the dub to make it more appropriate. The "owahahaha" cry can be something else. The inappropriate jokes or comments can be made more palatable. The references to Nazis (if left in) can be changed to comments about soldiers.

Now, don't get me wrong, this raises a whole other debate about whether to be true to the source and whether this would be censorship . . . personally, I'm a massive fan of Hetalia and Ultimate Muscle, so I wouldn't even an object to a total script change (so long as it kept true to characters and story), but I think it's the best option to avoid overly being offensive. Let's face it, though, there's not much anime out there that's perfect with different ethnicities and nationalities, and none of them get changed for the west.

That's not to say it's right, but it's also not to say it's wrong. I don't really feel comfortable judging Japan by Western standards, and - even then - I remember things being acceptable in Spain (as one example) that would never be acceptable in Britain, so even 'the West' is an extremely vague and not too useful term.

tl;dr I think designs can be tweaked, and - keeping close to the manga, and not the original anime - a lot of the worst will be absent anyway, especially if they stick to the edited manga. If I'm going to be completely honest, I think if people get offended by Ramenman and Geronimo, they probably are better off reading/watching a different source than lamenting what could/should be in a perfect world. It's not so much a product of its time, but also its country, and I think we all get a bit too sensitive in modern day. Brocken is a whole can of worms, but the rest just . . . is. I'd personally keep it as it stands.

[musicvalla]

How to Upload Your Music to YouTube: A Beginner's Guide

YouTube has become one of the most powerful platforms for musicians to showcase their work, connect with fans, and even monetize their talent. Whether you’re an independent artist or part of a record label, uploading YouTube music is a crucial step in building your presence online. This guide will take you through every step of the process and help you understand how to optimize your uploads for maximum impact.

Why Upload Your Music to YouTube?

YouTube is a multimedia powerhouse where millions of people search for music daily. By uploading your music, you can:

Reach a global audience.

Gain exposure and attract fans.

Monetize your music through ads, subscriptions, and partnerships.

Drive traffic to your other platforms, where fans can stream music online free or purchase your work.

If you’ve ever wondered how to make a music video, YouTube is also the perfect platform to showcase your creativity alongside your sound. A captivating music video can significantly enhance audience engagement and help your song stand out.

Step 1: Prepare Your Music and Visual Content

Before you upload anything, ensure that your music and visuals are ready:

Finalize Your Track Make sure your music is professionally recorded and mastered. Tools like free online mastering platforms or collaborations with sound engineers can help you polish your work.

Create Compelling Visuals If you’ve already learned how to make a music video, now’s the time to pair it with your track. If creating a full-scale music video isn’t feasible, consider using lyric videos, animated graphics, or even a still image of your album cover.

Optimize File Formats YouTube supports various file formats, but it’s best to upload in MP4 for videos or MP3/FLAC for audio. Ensure your files are high quality to maintain professional standards.

Step 2: Set Up Your YouTube Channel

If you don’t already have a YouTube channel, setting one up is easy:

Sign in to YouTube using your Google account.

Create a Brand Account to keep your channel name distinct from your personal account.

Customize Your Profile:

Use a recognizable profile picture, such as your logo or photo.

Add a banner image to give your channel a professional look.

Write a compelling channel description to introduce your style and music.

Don’t forget to link your social media and other platforms where fans can stream music online free or purchase your music.

Step 3: Upload Your Music to YouTube

Now that your music and channel are ready, follow these steps:

Log in to Your YouTube Channel Once you’re in, click the camera icon with a "+" in the top right corner and select “Upload video.”

Drag and Drop Your File Select your music video or audio file and upload it. Be patient as it processes.

Add a Title and Description Your title should be clear and include relevant keywords. For example:

“[Song Name] Official Music Video”

“[Song Name] – Stream Online Free”

In the description, include:

A brief introduction to your song.

Lyrics (if applicable).

Links to your social media and platforms where fans can find more of your work.

Choose a Thumbnail A custom thumbnail grabs attention and increases clicks. Create an eye-catching thumbnail using tools like Canva or Photoshop.

Add Tags and Categories Tags like “new music,” “hip-hop,” or “acoustic cover” help YouTube understand your video’s content, making it easier for fans to discover.

Step 4: Optimize for Discovery

Uploading your music is just the beginning. Here’s how to maximize visibility:

Leverage SEO Use relevant keywords in your title, description, and tags, such as "how to make a music video" or "upload YouTube music."

Enable Subtitles and Captions Adding subtitles makes your video accessible to a broader audience, including those with hearing impairments or non-native speakers.

Create Playlists Organize your music into playlists for better discoverability. For instance:

“Music Videos” playlist for all your video content.

“Stream Music Online Free” playlist for fans who want to listen without barriers.

Step 5: Promote Your Upload

After you upload your music to YouTube, promotion is key:

Share on Social Media Post the link to your video on platforms like Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. Encourage fans to watch and share.

Collaborate with Influencers Team up with content creators or influencers who can feature your music in their videos.

Encourage Fan Engagement Reply to comments, host Q&A sessions, or create polls to engage your audience.

Utilize Ads Invest in YouTube ads to reach a larger audience.

Step 6: Analyze Performance

YouTube provides analytics tools to help you track your performance. Monitor:

Views, likes, and shares.

Watch time and audience retention.

Traffic sources to see where your viewers are coming from.

These insights will help you improve your future uploads and understand what resonates with your audience.

Conclusion

Learning how to upload YouTube music is a straightforward process, but to succeed, you need to combine technical know-how with strategic promotion. Whether you’re sharing a track for fans to stream music online free or debuting a new project you’ve created after mastering how to make a music video, YouTube is the perfect platform to amplify your talent.

By following these steps, you’ll not only ensure your music reaches a wider audience but also build a loyal fanbase t