#Also beauty standards are trash and never listen to anyone say anything

[aj-theteenagecondition]

I hate that term because pigs are cute af idk what they’re talking about

I think the term “lipstick on a pig” ruined my life

[pan-fangirl-345]

Promise Me You Won't Fall In Love

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been friends since you were kids, and you made a promise not to fall in love with each other. But of course, everything's fine and great until someone (both of you) fucked up and caught feelings.

TW: swearing, mutual pining, unrequited love (it is requited later), minor harassment (not a lot), and there is some derogatory talk from an extra that doesn't even have a name (Kei puts him in his place, I promise).

A/N: So this wasn't requested, but I've been thinking about this one a lot recently and I wanted to do something with it, hence this.

Note: Anything in italics is a memory! Well, not all of it, but the longer sections. Most of the time the one or two word-er things are simply emphasized, that kind of thing.

"Tsukishima, your girlfriend's here to see you!" Sugawara told the middle blocker, and he turned to see you leaning against the wall near Yachi and Kiyoko, laughing at something they were saying to you.

"She's not my girlfriend," Kei muttered, walking over.

"Kei! I knew you'd be here," you said, digging through your bag. "One of the girls in my class wanted me to give this to you."

You handed him a bright pink envelope with black sparkly writing on the front, his name scrawled in almost perfect handwriting.

"Another love letter?" he asked, taking it.

"Probably, I've stopped asking. It makes them think that we're together," you told him, crossing your arms.

Kei sighed, opening the letter with little fanfare.

He scanned through it quickly, rolling his eyes.

One thing he had noticed was that the letters he had been getting were really sucky poetry and fancy words. They knew nothing about him worthwhile and he was pretty sure they just wanted to check off the 'I have a boyfriend' box on their high school checklists.

Kei made a noise of disgust and walked over to the nearest trash can, dumping the letter in.

"I'm assuming that's another no?" you asked, smirking at him, already knowing the answer.

He nodded, ignoring the smirk on your face.

You, Tadashi, and Kei had all been friends since middle school. Kei had known you longer, since you lived in the same neighborhood, but you had kind of adopted Tadashi when you had heard about him being bullied, hence why Kei and you were actual friends now. Tadashi was the link between the two of you that had stuck. Being forced to make conversation as some of the only kids in the neighborhood had simply made you acquaintances.

"If you knew I was going to say no then why would you give me the letter?" Kei asked.

"Because I'm hoping you'll broaden your horizons," you offered, waving your hand dismissively. "Besides, it sends the wrong message if I just throw them away without giving them to you. Not to mention, a lot of the girls don't like me to begin with because I'm one of the few people you can tolerate for more than a few minutes at the time. You've never had a girlfriend, Kei, even if they aren't girlfriend material, couldn't you at least make a few more friends?"

"I can barely deal with you and Tadashi, I don't need anymore friends," Kei told you, and you laughed.

"Keep telling yourself that Kei. I'll see you guys later, alright?"

Tadashi and Kei nodded, watching you leave before they rejoined practice.

"Are you sure she isn't your girlfriend, Tsukishima?" Sugawara asked, watching the blocker with mild interest.

Despite being second years now, their former upperclassmen were showing up more as tournament season drew closer. Though Kei also suspected that they were being nostalgic and that they missed their underclassmen's chaos.

"I'm sure," he assured the former setter. "Why?"

"Nothing, just a hunch," he murmured.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys, do you ever wonder how many people see you on the side of the street and think, 'Wow, they are the most beautiful person I have ever seen'?" you asked, as you hung upside down on the monkey bars.

"I think the blood is going to your head, (Y/F/N)," Tadashi teased.

"No, I'm serious," you said, turning to look at him. "I was thinking, earlier, about how Kei keeps getting all these love letters, and it made me wonder how many people see me as attractive, but never say anything. I don't think it's very many," you admitted, "but I wonder if they are out there."

Tadashi sighed, putting his hands on his forehead in an exasperated manner.

"(Y/F/N)," he said, sounding almost breathless, "just because Kei is getting letters doesn't mean that people don't find you attractive."

"I'm not saying people don't find me attractive," you said, swinging yourself up onto the bars again. "I know someone in the world must have standards that low, but just because they find me attractive doesn't mean they would date me."

"Why are we talking about this?" Kei asked, annoyance riddling his tone.

"Technically Tadashi and I were talking about it," you told him. "You were simply listening to the conversation."

"That doesn't tell me why this is the topic of conversation," he countered.

"I'm just saying! Kei keeps getting all these letters, and it makes me wonder if these girls actually think that they're in love with him. Attraction is really just a release of chemicals in the brain from when we were simply a species trying to survive. But that's not love," you said.

"So what's love to you?" Tadashi asked, curious.

"I think real, true love is when you see something that reminds you of them and you smile, even without realizing it. I think it's when it hurts to see them hurt, but you stay by them instead of seeking revenge, knowing they need you in the moment. I think it's the little inside jokes that mean nothing to people around you, but it's everything to you. I think it's knowing that there are plenty of people that are better than you out there, but wanting to stick around to be better for that person, to prove that you're worth it.

"I think it's seeing all the broken pieces, and loving them all anyway. It's remembering the little things. It's being able to sit in complete silence and know what the other is saying just because of the way their eyes crinkle. It's knowing that they have the power to break off new pieces, and trusting that they won't. It's when . . . instead of breaking pieces of yourself so that they can handle you, you stay whole. If they choke, you know it's not love, not really.

"It's knowing that you can stand on your own two feet, but leaning on them anyway. It's knowing that you are your own person, but wanting to share it with someone anyway. It's feeling free and wild, but content to stay still, because you trust them. For me, I feel like love is knowing that someone would read with me on a window seat, watching it rain, but they would also drive just a little too fast down older roads with the windows down so we can pretend, just for a moment, that we're in a shitty music video."

You smiled as you turned yourself upside down on the monkey bars again.

"I think it's kind of like what we have, but more romantic."

"You've been reading too much fanfiction," Kei muttered.

"Maybe," you admitted. "But maybe that's because I want to be able to spew romantic bullshit like that when I finally find a guy that likes me for me. I realize that, realistically, I'll probably never feel like that. Or at least, I won't feel it enough to put it into words like that. Fantasy never lives up to reality after all. But it's a nice thought."

"So, you don't think you'll ever find something like that?" Tadashi asked.

"I think that I'll either end up married to a man that was good enough, or on my own with no social life except you and Kei. I'll rely on work to keep me entertained."

Kei snorted.

"What's so funny you overly salted French fry?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If I ever think you're marrying a man that's just 'good enough', I'll say 'I object!' at the wedding," he told you.

"Oh yeah?" you asked, smiling. "And why's that?"

"Because you deserve more than that," he said, looking you in the eye. "(Y/F/N), you are not the kind of girl that should end up with 'good enough'. You're too . . . free for that. Although, maybe independent is a better word. You would wither with just 'good enough', and that's not something I'm willing to let happen."

"Aw, so you do care about me," you cooed, swinging yourself upright onto the bars. "And don't worry Kei, we both know that Tadashi and I will never let you settle with 'good enough' either."

"What about me?" Tadashi squawked, and you laughed.

"Come 'Dashi," you chided, "we all know that you won't end up with 'good enough' even if you try."

His cheeks went pink and you laughed again.

Kei, as much as he pretended otherwise, really loved seeing you and Tadashi laugh like this. It reminded him that there were people who didn't see just the bastard act that he threw up to protect himself.

He loved the way your dimple appeared when you gave Tadashi that real smile, not the smirk or the grin you gave people. He loved seeing Tadashi carefree and not hiding behind his hand when he laughed or smiled.

He loved being able to sit and watch the two of you interact, but know that he could pop into the conversation whenever.

"Kei, that look on your face is kind of creepy," you teased, sliding to the ground to ruffle his hair, a small way of telling him you didn't mean it. "What's it for?"

"Nothing," he muttered, hoping to the heavens that his ears weren't turning pink, though they probably were.

"Come on Tsukki," Tadashi said, giving him a look, "we've all been friends for years. We know you better than that."

"I'm just glad is all," he murmured.

"Glad for what?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaning over them to look at his face.

"You. Tadashi. You know, my friends," he confessed.

Damn it! His ears were definitely pink.

But he didn't shove you off.

Most people assumed that Kei was a jerk all the time, and while that might have been true for anyone else, you and Tadashi were the exceptions to his rule.

You and Tadashi had been friends with him for almost your whole lives, and both of you had been there during the brother debacle.

You and Kei had lived in the same neighborhood for years, and had been a part of more than a few conversations that had been forced by social convention, and your mother had been good friends with his in high school, though they had lost touch after that.

You had noticed Tadashi being bullied in class and had stepped in, defending him and deciding that he was more worth your time than the other kids.

Which led you to Kei, when you found out that he had helped Tadashi on the playground, even if that had never been his original intention.

The three of you had become a trio of sorts in your later years, though your reputations weren't the most . . . innocent.

Kei had always had a sharp tongue and a quicker wit, and his irritation seemed to have no limits.

You were on level with him, though you were much harder to set off than he was.

Tadashi never really provoked, but he watched as the two of you eviscerated anyone that insulted him.

Kei was ruthless with people who made comments on you and/or Tadashi, never giving them a chance to get another word in, though they had often tried, simply making themselves seem more like idiots.

On the other hand, you tended to let people hang themselves with their own tongues, before using that quick wit and sharp tongue to gut them like the pigs that they were.

Tadashi had little confidence on his own, and he tended to be more affected by words than you or Kei, so most of the time he let you and Kei handle people, but every once in a while, he would be set off.

Nothing was scarier than Tadashi getting pissed. He was rarely ever confrontational, but when something set him off, it was terrifying. He got really quiet, and he never raised his voice. There was a quiet kind of fury that radiated from him when he got like that, and if you and Kei used your words to eviscerate, Tadashi used his to give someone hypothermia. He would make them get colder and colder before their brains tricked them into thinking they were too hot, and then ended them.

All three of you were terrifying in your own ways, but that didn't mean you were like that all the time.

Kei wasn't an asshole all the time, and he enjoyed receiving hugs and other types of physical affection, he was just shit at reciprocating it and letting others see that more 'vulnerable side of him', as he put it. He was better at fixing problems logically. He helped you and Tadashi study, or sometimes bought gifts to make you both feel better, little things that still made your days.

Tadashi was someone who might not be confrontational, but he was very good about getting you and Kei out of your heads when something did hit a chink in your respective armors. He knew that both you and Kei were more affected by what people said than most people were led to believe. He was also a very good listener.

You were the giver of physical affection when the boys needed it. Kei tended to need it more than Tadashi, since Tadashi had his moms who were more than willing to give hugs. Kei didn't like his mother thinking anything was wrong, and he didn't completely trust his brother anymore, so physical contact was kept to a minimum.

Tadashi was okay with giving Kei affection, but most of the time, when it came to Kei, you were the one he went to.

You had asked him once, why he always came to you.

"I sometimes think Tadashi puts me up on a pedestal," he had admitted. "He knows me, and he's my friend, but sometimes it feels like I can't disappoint him. I don't feel that way with you. Besides, your short enough that hugging you feels better. Plus, Tadashi is all bones."

"We're glad for you too Kei," you told him, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

Tadashi nodded, taking a seat beside Kei.

Kei's heart clenched, like it often did when he was reminded that he really did have great friends, and his ears got hotter.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," he muttered, trying to wave you and Tadashi away.

"Come on Kei," you whined softly, gently bumping your head with his, "we all know that you have a heart! Don't be that way, it's just us."

Kei made a small noise, and you laughed, releasing him so that you could sit on his other side, peering up into his face with your adorable fucking doe eyes.

"You know you don't have to pretend with us," you murmured, leaning on his shoulder, taking his hand.

"Yeah, we've all been friends for long enough Tsukki," Tadashi agreed, leaning his head on Kei's other shoulder.

"I hate you both," he muttered, trying to hide his face in his hands.

"Nuh uh," you said, pulling away to pull his hands from his face, sounding like a child. "No hiding from us."

You took his hand again, and for a while, all three of you just sat there, enjoying each other's company.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tsukishima! You're girlfriend is here again," Suga said, gesturing to where you were walking through the doors of the gym, laughing with Yachi.

"Again, she's not my girlfriend," Kei muttered.

He remembered, suddenly, about the promise you had both made when you were middle school and boys were starting to notice girls and vice versa.

"Kei and (Y/F/N) would make such a cute couple when they're older," your mother had told his, smiling as you both chatted at a neighborhood barbeque, being two of the only children there that could hold an intelligent conversation.

At that point, you and Kei were more than acquaintances, but you weren't exactly friends yet either.

Neither mother had realized that you and Kei had overheard, and when Kei had glanced at you, your nose was wrinkled like it did when you were grossed out by something, your expression mirroring his.

"Promise me something Kei," you had said, turning your attention back to him. "Promise me that you won't ever fall in love with me."

"Why not? I mean, I won't, but I want a reason," he had said, arms crossed as he looked at you.

"Because we're friends," you had said, like it had been the simplest thing in the world. "And because if we ended up falling in love and dating that means Tadashi would feel left out all the time and I won't let that happen. So promise me."

"I promise not to fall in love with you if you promise not to fall in love with me," he had offered.

"Deal," you had told him, offering him your hand to shake on it.

"Ah, Kei, there you are!" you said, smiling at him. "There's another letter. Based on the amount of hearts on it, another confession."

"Keep it," he muttered, pushing your hand away when you went to hand him the letter.

"Kei, I don't want to carry around another one of your love letters," you said, wrinkling your nose. "These aren't for me, and they make me sick, so please, for the sake of our friendship, take the damn thing off my hands so I can wash them."

He sighed, a pained sound that had you laughing, and took the letter, slipping it into his bag, wondering if the girls at school would ever take a hint that he wasn't interested.

"Why is Tsukishima so popular with the girls?" Hinata wondered out loud. "His personality is so crappy."

"And I don't think I've ever heard him say a nice thing to anyone," Kageyama added.

"That's because you guys are irritating to Kei," you interrupted, turning to them, arms crossed and hip cocked out to the side. "Most of the time, he's helpful and respectful. You two just aren't the kind of people he would voluntarily hang out with."

"Rude," Hinata cried, then pouted, "but true."

"The only people Kei really rips into are people he doesn't like, doesn't respect, people who disrespect Tadashi or me, or people who betray his trust. You two are options one and two."

"He just seems like an unfeeling asshole, even after three years of knowing him."

"I think it's the opposite actually," you told them.

Kei could feel your eyes on the back of his head, either unaware that he could hear you or uncaring that he was listening.

"I think he feels all of it, at one hundred and twenty percent. He just acts like that to avoid getting hurt in most cases. In your case though, he really does just not like you. Or, more accurately, he doesn't like that you two are so clearly passionate about something when he gets scared of something hurting him if he cares too much. Like Tadashi told you once, Hinata, if Kei didn't at least like volleyball, he wouldn't be here. Just think about it," you told them.

"(Y/F/N)!" Tadashi called. "We're still studying at your place right?"

"Yeah, just like always," you assured him. "Kei, you still have the spare key, just let yourselves in."

He nodded, spinning the ball in his hands as he watched you walk away.

"Tsukishima, are you one hundred percent sure that she isn't your girlfriend?" Suga asked, eyebrows raised at him.

"Three hundred percent sure," Tsukishima grunted as he served the ball.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why do you never accept any of the confessions, Kei?" you asked, looking at him from over the top of your textbook.

Your head was hanging off the side of your bed and your socked feet were crossed at the ankles, resting on your wall.

Kei's neck hurt just looking at you, but he didn't say anything to you about moving.

"Because they aren't my type," Kei muttered, checking his notes before writing down an answer on his paper.

"What is your type?" you inquired, rolling onto your stomach, setting you book to the side. "Because I don't think I've ever seen you take an interest in a girl." You frowned, then added, "Romantic interest I mean."

Kei wondered what other interest you had thought he might get out of that, but he decided not to question it. Despite knowing you for years, and being as close to you as he was, you still managed to be somewhat of a mystery to him.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes, because I want to be able to set you up when you decide you're ready for a relationship!" you said. "Tadashi and I would make great wingmen. Well, wingman and wingwoman, but you know what I mean."

Kei actually turned to look at you at that one.

"You're serious," he muttered, noting the look on your face.

"Yes! Unless you don't think you're going to want a romantic relationship, which is completely okay too. I just want you to be happy is all."

"You know what makes me happy?" Kei asked, pausing to let you answer, but instead you stayed quiet, watching him with those damn doe eyes. "Getting my homework done and not having to deal with confessions from girls that don't know the first thing about me."

Kei heard your small chuckle, and as he went back to his homework, he found himself smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kei had always known that, objectively, you were very pretty (he had heard enough from his classmates over the years to have it verified), but sometimes you did something, and he would realize all over again.

Today you had laughed a little harder as he ripped into someone, and you had given him one of those dimpled smiles that he adored so much, and he had stood there blinking for a moment before he cooled his expression again.

Kei didn't really understand why he got so mad when someone flirted with you in the hallways, or when you came to cheer the team on during games.

He had always assumed that it was merely because you were such good friends, but then he had realized that no one else got that mad, they didn't feel the same painful burning in the pit of their stomachs at seeing you with another guy.

Asking Suga had done absolutely nothing, the setter had merely suggested that Kei was jealous, which was absolute bullshit, and he wasn't desperate enough to contact Bokuto or Kuroo yet, though he might be at the point of asking Akaashi.

He would know if he liked you the way that the older setter was implying. He would know if he was in love with you.

Right?

Kei could worry about that later, right now he was more interested in getting that guy's hand off your shoulder and away from your neck.

"(Y/F/N)," Kei called, striding over, back straight. "The game's about to start, we've got to go."

"Kei!" you chirped, smiling at him, moving to his side immediately, giving the guy that had been bugging you a sugar sweet (and utterly fake) smile over your shoulder. "See you around never, hopefully!"

Kei pressed his lips together to hide his smile, letting you wrap your hand around his.

"Was that guy bothering you?"

"A little, but you got there just in time," you told him, your hand tightening it's grip for a moment before you let him go. "Thanks for always having the most amazing timing Kei!"

"Yeah, whatever," he told you, bumping your shoulder with his.

"Seriously, what is it with the girls that hang around with us and wandering off?" Daichi asked when you walked into the gym with Kei.

"Sorry guys! I just wanted to buy a key chain," you said, holding it up, grinning. "It's not my fault that athletes can't take no for an answer! Sometimes I think your on-court determination bleeds over into everyday life."

There were some nods, and Kei watched as the guy that had been bothering you stepped onto the other side of the court.

He followed the guy's eyes to you, where you were laughing at something Kageyama said.

Did- Did that moron just lick his lips at you?

Kei felt that burning sensation in his stomach again.

Kei didn't realize that he had been glaring until he heard your voice right next to him.

"Anyway, good luck guys!" you told them, affectionately ruffling Tadashi's hair, hip-checking Kei on your way into the stands, flashing him that damned dimpled grin over your shoulder.

"Hey, Blondie!" the guy called. "You, Glasses! I'm talkin' to you!"

Kei turned to see the guy from earlier smirking at him.

"Dude, your girl is so hot!" he said.

Kei felt the entirety of Karasuno tense behind him as they realized what was going on.

"Yeah, she is," Kei agreed.

"Think you'd be willin' to share her with me? I promise I'd take good care of her."

"Oh shit," someone muttered, and Kei saw red for a moment before he got himself under control.

"Is your ass jealous about the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth?" Kei asked, putting his hand on his hip.

Using insults like that was never really his thing, but he was really pissed right now.

"Hey, Tsukki," Tadashi said quietly, "you might not want to-"

"What did you just say to me?" the guy asked.

"Hey, Kei!" you called from the stands, waving at him to catch his attention. "Leave the smack talk for when you actually win! Block his spike down his throat for me, alright?"

He nodded, giving you a grin that had you giving him one right back.

"God forbid if she was a guy and they were on the same team," Suga muttered, and the others nodded.

"Alright, time for the game to start," Daichi said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kei did as you asked: he blocked every single spike that the guy tried to send over the net, and Kei could already tell that the guy was pissed at the end of the first set.

He was spiking more and more aggressively, which was screwing up aim to the point where Kei didn't even really need to block.

"Go Karasuno!" you cheered, smiling at the team from the stands.

Kei, every time he felt his anger getting out of control, looked to you in the stands to calm down.

Finally, the scumbag was so out of control that he was switched out with another wing spiker.

From there, the game was easy.

By the end of it, Kei hadn't even needed to look for you in the stands. Not only had he memorized where you were, but no one else on that team pissed him off as much as that scumbag did.

As soon as the ball landed on the other side of the court, and it was called, you were running down from the stands, running for him.

"Kei! You were so great!" you cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck, jumping at him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist to keep the both of you from falling over, and he buried his face in your neck as he set you down.

"Oh my gosh, Kei that was so amazing! I think that's the best you've played all season! Seriously! Some of those blocked looked like they would've ripped my arms off, that was so cool!" you gushed, holding onto his forearms.

Kei nodded, giving Tadashi a look over your shoulder for a moment, letting him know that it was okay for him to go on ahead.

"Thanks for blocking the slime ball for me Kei!" you said, smiling up at him. "And what did he say to you that got you so pissed off? I haven't seen you that mad in forever!"

"It was nothing," he told you, "it was stupid."

"Are you sure?" you inquired, looking up at him.

"Yeah, I'm sure the team will tell you about it later."

"Alright, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," you told him, "'cause you looked really pissed. I haven't seen you that pissed off since that one guy tried to make Tadashi cry."

"I don't like it when people make you uncomfortable like that," Kei said. "It really pisses me off."

"Is that why you kept looking at me during the game?" you asked, and Kei wondered if any other girl would've been so honest with him about something like this, or if it as just the fact that you had both spent so much time together growing up. "I noticed that you always looked at me whenever you had the chance."

Kei nodded, gesturing with his head towards the doors, so that he could catch up with the team and talk with you at the same time.

"Yeah, that was one of the reasons. It kept me focused on the scumbag's spikes, and it calmed me down enough so that I didn't punch him whenever we were across the net from each other."

"I kinda wish that you had, but I also know that it would've gotten you ejected from the game, which is not something I want to happen. Anyway, thanks Kei," you told him, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, always," he said, putting his hand on your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was when you were over at his house Sunday morning when he realized that he might need to call Kuroo and Bokuto.

You, Kei, and Tadashi had had a sleepover, but Tadashi had left early to spend some time with his moms, so Kei had woken up to you with a hand on his chest and his arm numb from where it was pillowing your head.

The three of you had been sitting on Kei's bed watching a movie, but Tadashi had tipped over sometime near the halfway marker, and Kei had fallen asleep not long after that, so he could only assume that you had fallen asleep sometime after Tadashi had left this morning.

Kei turned on his side slowly, not wanting to wake you up, wrapping an arm around your waist softly.

He toyed with your hair, twisting it in his fingers gently, brushing it behind your ear, threading his fingers through it.

He wasn't ready to get up for the day yet, so he laid there with you, wondering how it would be ten years in the future.

Would your hair be longer? Would you cut it shorter? Would you dye it? Would you have kids by then?

That last one had made him pause.

He had always known that short of you dying or some huge falling out, Kei was in no way going to be able to get rid of you or Tadashi, but he had never even considered dating you, let alone anything beyond that.

So why was he wondering what your kids would look like? Why was he wondering how many you would want, if any? Why was he questioning how many stray animals you might bring home after work?

He sounded like every lovesick fool that got his heart broken in those weird movies that Tadashi liked to watch.

Kei glanced down at your face, and he suddenly found himself unable to think of a reality where he didn't wake up like this for the rest of his life.

When had he stopped seeing you as his little sister, or the annoying female friend that all of his classmates admired? When had he started seeing you as someone he could fall in love with, if he hadn't already?

But even with this new revelation, he couldn't bring himself to pull away from you.

Kei loved it when you both bickered like you hated each other, and he loved when you were able to throw back any insulting thing he said to you. He loved being able to have real conversations with you, but he also liked just sitting quietly with you.

This though, this was by far his favorite thing, seeing all the stress gone from your body, seeing your face without any kind of mask on, he adore seeing the calm serenity that came with sleep.

"Mm, Kei?" you asked sleepily, glancing at him. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he murmured, tucking you into his chest again. "Go back to sleep."

"M'kay," you said, nuzzling in close.

Kei waited for a minute before he grabbed his phone and his glasses from the side table, texting Kuroo.

Normally, he would've talked to Tadashi, but Kei didn't want to drag him into anything until he knew for sure, just in case he was wrong.

Kei: I have a question for you

Kuroo: What's up Tsukki-poo?

Kei: First, don't call me that

Kei: Secondly, and this is completely hypothetical, but how do you know when you love someone?

Kuroo: Aww, is my little kouhai in love with someone? How cute!

Kei made a face, taking a deep breath and glancing at you quickly before he turned his attention back to his phone.

Kei: Just answer the question

Kuroo: We're talking hypothetically?

Kei: Yeah

Kuroo: Can't you use the internet for this stuff? Why ask me? Why not ask Freckles? Or the pretty setter on your team?

Kei: The internet would tell me I have cancer, not that I might be in love with someone

Kei: Secondly, as for the setter comment, I'm assuming you mean Suga

Kei: Thirdly, he would go tell Tadashi, and then the possible love interest, and I don't want to deal with any of those things

Kei: So, please, for the sake of my sanity, just answer the question

Kuroo: Alright, alright. Jeesh. Hypothetically, if you were in love with someone you might start noticing their presence more

Kuroo: It would feel almost like you have a compass where the needle points to them, and you can't turn it off. You notice the little things more than normal, and you know them. I mean, really know them. They feel almost like a part of you

Kuroo: Seeing them hurt hurts you. You constantly feel the need to make sure that they're okay. Even the little things that kind of annoy you are a huge part of what you love about them

Kuroo: You find yourself smiling at them, even when they're doing something completely mundane, and you could recognize their voice in a crowd. Suddenly, they went from just another person, to someone that you could find in a crowd, even if they blend in enough that they normally fade into the background

Kuroo: Hypothetically speaking, of course

Kei was surprised by how much his mentor was able to type out in such a short amount of time, but in the end, he was most surprised by how much it lined up with what you had told him earlier. The basics were the same, and Kei sighed, realizing what this meant for him.

Kei: How to I make it stop?

Kei: Hypothetically

Kuroo: When I figure that out, I'll let you know

Kei blinked at that, then sighed again.

Kei: Thanks, Kuroo-san.

Kuroo: Sure thing Skinny, let me know how it goes

Kuroo: Hypothetically, of course

Kei couldn't help but chuckle softly, and he set his phone aside, wondering whether this was going to change anything, and how long he had been in love with you.

He had always noticed the little things about you, it was just a part of him being perceptive, and he had grown up with you, so he automatically knew you better than 80 percent of the people you went to school with.

But he was more in tune with your presence than even Tadashi was. And he had always managed to pick your voice out in a crowd.

He glanced down at you, and suddenly, instead of being worried about if he was in love you, he was more worried about whether you loved him back or not.

Kei debated texting Tadashi, but he decided that it could wait, and he wanted to enjoy this time with you unhindered.

Kei knew that he was never going to say anything unless he was sure you felt the same way about him.

For one thing, you were nice enough that it was entirely possible that you would date him just because you were too nice to say no. For another thing, he wasn't the kind of guy to make a move if he thought it wouldn't lead to a win. Not to mention, that if you he did ask you out and you said no, that might make things awkward in the friend group, and Kei didn't want that to happen.

He had gone this long, right? What was a few more weeks?

But, of course, things didn't go the way that Kei wanted them to.

As the end of a semester approached, as well as the end of the year, projects piled on, as did speeches and tests.

Kei had always done well academically, and he wasn't as stressed as some of the other people he knew, like Hinata and Kageyama.

You seemed to be feeling the pressure too, even though Kei knew that you were going to be getting some of the higher grades in class, just like always.

You were freaking out more than usual, and Kei realized that he needed to do something if he didn't want you to overwork yourself.

He found you on the swings at the park by your house.

He had gone over to make sure that you had eaten something, but your mother had told him that you had gone out earlier, and that she didn't know where you were.

"Hey," he said, announcing his presence as he settled beside you.

"Hey Kei," you replied, staring at the ground in front of you like it held the key to the universe.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you admitted. "I'm so nervous and freaked out that I can't eat anything. I have that weird mineral deficiency so drinking water just makes me really dizzy and I almost passed out when I stood up at the end of the day and there's nothing I can do about it! Not to mention that, once again, I got stuck with the morons that aren't going to do anything to help me with the project so I'm stuck doing everything by myself. For some of my classes, that's okay, I can just tell the teacher that they didn't help, but for some of them they're going to give me that bullshit lecture about working together. I have no idea what to do my speech about for that one class, and I have so many back to back tests that I think I might forget everything!"

Kei let you ramble, watching the way your hands moved around, trying to communicate the stress and anger and nerves that you were experiencing all at once.

He watched the way yours eyes widened and squeezed shut to add extra emphasis. He watched the way you glanced over at him to make sure that he was still paying attention, to make sure that you weren't annoying him, the way you smiled a little bit whenever you noticed that he was watching you and that you weren't annoying him by talking.

Somehow, you started talking about the constant love letters that he was getting.

"I mean, I get that some girls feel the need to have a boyfriend," you said, rolling your eyes, "but I have bigger things to worry about than their attraction to you, you know? One girl gave me a letter the other day, and I was so tired that I didn't realize what it was, and I started to read it and I was caught between wanting to laugh, cry, and hurl all at the same time."

Kei perked up at that.

"It made me kinda sad too," you admitted, your voice quieting. "I mean, it must really suck for you, getting all these letters claiming that they love you when they don't even know that first thing about who you are. I mean, it was hilarious that she even thought that you were interested in getting a girlfriend, and it was sickening how many times she used the words 'hot', 'sexy', and 'unadulteratedly handsome' to describe you."

Kei knew he made a face at that, with the way you laughed, before you continued, your voice even quieter than it had been, "But it made me sad to think that you keep having to read these things. They claim that they love you, that they want to be with you, and they don't even know who you are. Not in a way that matters at least. I don't know, it was just kind of depressing I guess."

You glanced at him, turning to face him.

"I hope you don't mind, but I started throwing them away. I'm getting sick and tired of being their carrier pigeon, and I really hate thinking about you having to deal with them all the time. If they want to confess they can find another way to do it."

"I don't mind, at all," he assured you, and you smiled at him.

But then your smiled faded into something similar to a frown.

"Hey, Kei?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that promise we made when we were kids?"

"How could I forget? You never shut up about it during middle school," he teased.

"I broke that promise," you whispered. "That was one of the reasons that those letters made me so upset. As someone who has loved you, really loved you, for longer than they've known about you, it made me sick to read some of the things they said. I know that that makes me sound like some kind of possessive bitch, but it's true."

Kei stared at you, wondering if he had just heard that right.

You were in love with him? And had been for more than three years?

Kei felt like the breath had been knocked out of him.

"What's with the face Kei?" you asked. "I thought you knew already."

Kei didn't think that his eyes could get any wider than they were at that moment.

"Y-You . . . I-I what?"

"Come on Kei, you had to have noticed by now," you said, looking more concerned by the second. "I mean, it's not like I act the same way around everyone else that I do around you."

Kei let his brain process the things that you were telling him before he managed to squeak out, "You mean, like a friend thing right?"

You bit your lip, checking his face for something, fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

"No, Kei," you said finally. "I mean like, I want to be your girlfriend kind of love."

You weren't looking at him now, and he was worried you were taking this the wrong way. He didn't want this to end in a misunderstanding so he sighed dramatically.

"So, you're telling me that I could have confessed months ago and avoided the entire overthinking part of my recent internal panic?" he asked, watching the way your brows furrowed with confusion, the way your head whipped up when you finally realized what he was saying to you.

"A-Are you saying that the feeling is mutual?" you asked, eyes wide as you both looked at each other.

"Yes, you dumbass," he teased, smiling softly at you. "I broke that promise too, so it's okay, since we both broke it."

Now you were the one staring at him in disbelief.

Then you were off your swing and pacing in front of them, waving your hands around like a madwoman.

"Holy shit, you love me back," you muttered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye every few seconds, like you were worried he would disappear. "I-I don't know what to do from here. I never thought that I would get this far. Is . . . is this where we talk about whether we want this to be a serious thing?" you asked. "Is this where we agree that we love each other but we pretend like nothing's changed? What am I supposed to do in this situation?"

"For one thing," Kei said, standing so that he could wrap his hands around your wrists, gently making you look at him. "You could calm down and let me get a word or two in before you make yourself black out."

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"For another," he continued, "you and I should go back to your house. Your mom is worried sick about you, and you need to eat something before you pass out. We can have a serious talk about what this means once you aren't in danger of passing out from exhaustion or malnutrition."

"Okay, but only because I know that you're going to make me do it anyway," you told him, making him laugh.

You both walked in silence for a while before you asked, "When did you realize?"

"A few months ago," he admitted. "I think I've always known, but that guy- the slimeball that I blocked- got on my nerves enough that I knew it wasn't some platonic 'protect a friend' thing. I started seeing it more and more after that. I talked to Kuroo-san about it when I was nearly 100 percent sure, and that solidified it for me I guess, that night you and Tadashi stayed over and we watched that horrid slasher film. I woke up and you were right there by my side, and suddenly I couldn't imagine waking up any other way."

"That really was a horrible movie," you muttered. "I didn't think you were going to be the cheesy one today, but then again, you are always surprising me. And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I was worried it would make things awkward, and I didn't want to say something and be wrong, you know? Besides, you can't say anything. How long have you known?"

"Do you remember the summer before our third year in middle school and we all stayed at my grandparents' camp for three weeks?"

"That long? We were- what?- twelve?"

"Yeah. I remember that there was a thunderstorm the first night we were there, and I got up in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep, so I stood on the deck, in a tank top and shorts because I wanted to. I don't even remember how long I had been out there when you wandered out. I remember calling you a dumbass because 'What if I was a murderer?' and you just called me short.

"We both stood there for a few minutes, and when I shivered, you wrapped your arms around my waist from behind me, pressing your chest to my back and calling me an idiot for wearing something so light in the middle of a thunderstorm. Instead of doing the sensible thing and getting a blanket or a jacket, you just hugged me and stood there with me until I couldn't stand it and we went inside."

Kei remembered that. He had seen you standing out on the deck when the lightning had flashed, and he had been worried when you weren't in your room, so he had gone out to check on you.

You had looked so happy, standing there in the rain, listening to the thunder crash in the distance.

He had wanted to stay with you, so he had.

It was one of the first times he had decided that he didn't care what it looked like, he cared for you, and he was going to show it somehow.

Kei slipped his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers together.

You glanced at him, but you didn't say anything, just squeezed his hand and walked with him.

When you both got back to your house, you grabbed a plate of food and plopped down at your desk in your room.

Kei lounged on your bed while you ate, watching you flip through a textbook and scribble notes in between bites of food.

When you pushed the plate to the side, your turned to face him.

"So."

"So."

You both locked eyes and chuckled.

"I already told you what I wanted out of this," you told him, shrugging. "I'm fine with whatever we decide, but that's my best case scenario ending for this."

"You make this sound like a business meeting," he teased, watching you stand up to move next to him on your bed.

"What do you want from this, Kei?" you asked, glancing down at your lap.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," he admitted. "I want to glare at guys that think they even have a chance with you. I want to kiss you for good luck before a game, all that sappy shit that everyone says that I wouldn't be into."

You smiled, laughing a little breathlessly for a moment before you comprehended everything he said.

"All of it?" you asked, turning those damned doe eyes on him again.

"All of it," he confirmed.

You chuckled softly, taking his hand again.

"Good. Me too."

"Good," he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

You giggled, something that made Kei stop for a moment, because you weren't the type of girl to giggle, at anything.

He smiled softly at you, and he wondered how much shit he was going to get from his team with you around, but he realized that it wasn't anything he needed to worry about yet.

Then he remembered something else.

"Hey, do you want to cause a little chaos?" Kei asked you.

"How so?"

"Remember how I said I talked to Kuroo-san?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he wanted me to let him know how it went," Kei admitted. "I have him, Bokuto, Akaashi, Lev, and Hinata in a discord group chat. I want to try something, if you're okay with it."

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, arching an eyebrow, a smirk on your lips that said you were up for almost anything.

Skinny: img.jpg

Skinny: Thanks Kuroo-san

five people are typing...

Kei laughed, leaning over to show you the chaos that had ensued when he had sent the group chat the photo of you kissing his cheek.

You giggled at the many exclamation points and question marks, snickering at Kuroo's reply.

"I love you," you told him, kissing his cheek again.

"I love you too," he said, ignoring the calls that were coming through on his phone as he leaned over to cup your face in his hands.

[jojoboisimagines]

Josuke x Reader :: Promposal :: Ch. 3

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summary: A strange new transfer student has enrolled in Budogaoka High School. Josuke falls head over heels for her, but has a limited time to win her over before the school prom.

///

Josuke didn’t even bother going after you after you had dashed into the classroom. Okuyasu had mentioned something about it being ‘his chance to bag you’, but he didn’t care. The only emotions he could process right now were embarrassment and a slight bit of sorrow. For both you and him.

Based on how you reacted, he could tell you were utterly uninterested or promptly humiliated by being seen with the letters. Either way, it was practically over, he thought. There’s no way you would go through all of those letters. The probability of them being trashed by the end of the day was high. 

Jojo couldn’t help but to feel at least a twinge of disappointment. This was the first girl he had been interested in since..well since he entered high school. He tried to think of a positive, that being able to at least see you every day. Yet that became more and more creepy sounding the more he replayed it in his head

First period started without him even noticing. Now his mind was fixated on remembering what he actually wrote in the letter. 

Something about... beautiful, piercing (e/c) eyes...how he wants a chance to get you to smile for once... pretty (h/c) hair (which was especially a compliment from him given his standards), and he couldn't forget adding that he liked how you were 'badass" for wearing heels multiple times. That was perhaps the only thing in the letter that wasn't cliche.

He definitely remembered at the end of the letter where he asked you to meet up with him on the rooftop after school if you were interested.

Contemplating if it was even worth it to go there anymore, he reckoned to pay attention in class for the moment, only a little.

His mechanical pencil clicked against the desk, the annoyance was still there in the back of his mind.

.::.

You had only skimmed over most of the letters. Some weren't even love letters, they were just presumably shy students complimenting you on your work in recent classes. One even offered to be a study buddy. Letting out a sigh, it would at least be fair to appreciate the penwork and thoughtfulness put in these letters. It had been an hour already, and you had gone through the majority of them. 

Picking up another, you took it out of the envelope. It had a rather nice smell to it, as if a hint of cologne was spritzed onto it before it was sealed in. Nice touch, you had to admit. 

Opening it, you started to read. This letter was more than two sentences like some, but still less than some others. The writing came off as surprisingly honest, almost even bringing a smile to your face for a brief moment. As you needed the end, you couldn't help but wonder who wrote it. Your (e/c) eyes were led to the bottom of the letter where their name was written.

...Josuke Higashikata?

Your mind went back to when you declined his offer to walk you home. Perhaps you had come off as a little too harsh, but you would've preferred to walk home yourself that day. Truth be told, your shyness had got the better of you in that moment. You weren't here to make friends, you were here for a learning experience.

Though your mom had told you to at least try and make some friends. The idea didn't appeal to you in the slightest, but you guessed this was an opportunity to do so, if any. He even bothered to put a place and time to meet him if you wanted. After school on the rooftop..

Carefully placing the letter in your binder (unlike the others, that you had shoved in your backpack) you silently agreed to it. Hopefully you wouldn't get cold feet like last time when talking to him. Considering his status in school, that'd be a little more than just 'embarrassing'.

.::.

It took a bit of convincing for Okuyasu and Koichi to let Josuke wait on the rooftop all by himself. 

"We can wait behind the stairs!" Nope.

"We can hide beside the door!" Not a chance.

If there was any possibility of you coming up there, seeing his friends peeping in is on the list of last things he'd want to happen.

Hands in his pockets, he stared out into the distance. The top of the school really did give an ethereal view. Morioh's vivid yellow sky blending into a purple hue as the afternoon comes to an end. Students traveling in small groups on their way home. The trees blowing along with the gentle breeze, it was all such a sight to take in. He wondered if you chose Morioh to study on purpose. If you didn't like the school, he hoped you could at least enjoy the atmosphere.

Pulling back his sleeve, he caught a glance of his watch. It had been five minutes since he got here.

He let out a quick sigh, he hadn't given up all hope yet but if you were gonna come you could've at least showed up on time. Taking his favorite red comb out of his pocket, he straightened his pompadour. 

A sudden creak and slam from the door behind him nearly made him trip out of shock and the comb would've fallen into the abyss that was the school's courtyard if he wasn't careful. A scowl on his face, he turned expecting Koichi and Okuyasu that had gone against his wishes and peeped in.

But it wasn't them. It was you. Nearly out of breath, looking like you'd topple over if you ran any further.

Muttering an 'oh shit' he quickly put his comb away and corrected his posture. What was that uncomfortable feeling on his features? Sweat maybe? The teenager rushed over to where you were.

"H-hey, are you alright?" He asked.

"I…am so sorry." You breathed out. "I didn't forget, I swear. I had to clean the classroom today and came up here hoping you hadn't left yet."

The way you looked into his eyes sent him over the moon on it's own. He hadn't got such a good look at your eyes before, but now he was sure they were beautiful. The two of you stood still for a moment, before he awkwardly cleared his throat. If the stare went on for any longer it would've killed him.

"S-so, uh..you got my letter?"

"Yes." Was all you answered. You had never been confessed to a day in your life, and you had no idea how to even approach a situation like this. Hell, it's not like anyone back home was interested in you.

"That's great!" He smiled. Something was charming about the way he pronounced that word. A smile etched its way into your face as well.

"Hey, I think that's the first time I've seen you smile!"

You felt your skin flush at that comment. It was something you heard often, but this time evoked a different feeling knowing it came from someone who potentially liked you. It was also something you didn't know how to react to. Were you supposed to say 'thanks"? Instead you only nodded.

"Wow, you're a lot more...shy than how I first pegged you as." Josuke acknowledged. You were a far cry from the 'cool girl' everyone knew you as from the first day of school. It was frankly sort of embarrassing. What if he didn't like you anymore? Why'd you even care if he did?

"Sorry." Was all you could think to say. Josuke's eyes widened, putting his hands up to reassure you that he meant no harm.

"What? There's nothing wrong with that! I'm actually kinda glad. You wouldn't believe how many asshole snooty chicks think they'd have a shot at dating me. Let alone trying to be friends." 

"You thought I was an asshole?"

"N-no! You know what I mean! I mean not that I thought you were because of the other day but-" He stopped before he made it worse.

He took a breath. At least you weren't the only one nervous.

"Listen, I was just thinking we could..hang out sometime..as friends."

"...friends?"

"Yeah! Oh, and I could use some tutoring with my math homework." He came up with that one on the spot, but it wasn't untrue. The boy felt it was less likely you'd agree to that particular offer, but it was worth a shot.

The silence thickened between the two of you for a moment. It wasn't as tense as the first time, he could tell you were just thinking it over. His fingers were crossed behind his back just in case.

"Sure. I'm free tomorrow afternoon and Sunday." You simply responded.

"YES!" He chanted.

Out loud.

'..shit.' he thought.

"I mean---uh…" He snickered, breaking out into chuckles. Jojo really couldn't think of anything to cover that up. A smile found its way into your face as well as he laughed, shaking your head.

"Thank you so much for considering me! (L/n)-san!

"You can call me (y/n)-chan. I don’t mind."

Calling you by your first name. Something to brag about to the boys afterward.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow!" He swung his bag over his shoulder and began to walk past you.

"Wait, Josuke!" You called after him before he opened the door. He stopped, not turning around.

"Did you mean everything you said in that letter? My eyes, hair, and everything?" It sounded kind of desperate, but you needed to know. You could see a smile at the corner of his face. 

"Yeah, every word of it." Josuke left out the door to head home for the day. 

You could sleep happy tonight feeling more confident about yourself. Wouldn't hurt to keep wearing heels to school either..

[monkberries]

They dealt with all of the above. Ringo was treated as a joke for pretty much everything, especially since this was the era of prog rock. His personal life was also tabloid fodder. George was derided as being a dour spiritual nut who was out of touch. He along w/ Ringo didn't get the respect he deserved as a guitarist bc his style wasn't in at the time & people knew little about his role in The Beatles. All credit went to Lennon/McCartney. 1/2

John had the benefit of having the rebel genius image, but even he became a source of ridicule with all the stunts he pulled with Yoko and the way his career declined after Imagine. He wasn't deified to the degree he was in the 80s. I'm not trying to say Paul never had a hard time, but the way this fandom talks as if he is the only one who faced extreme criticism or disrespect just tells me they haven't looked much into the other Beatles' lives. The man is more admired than most musicians. 2/2

(IDK if this screenshotted anons were from the same person or not, but I’ll just answer them in this one since it’s all the same subject.)

Here’s what I think is valid, as I see it: Paul fans are upset by the way his music was treated by the music press, especially in the first few years of the 70s, while the music of the other three were generally given at least the benefit of the doubt. They’re not upset about the tabloid gossip, the purely personal stuff – they are upset, specifically and with good reason, at the way Paul’s music was treated and the way the music world’s personal dislike of him seeped into their music reviews. I’m gonna focus in on 1970 through the end of 1974, since this is where a lot of the complaints spawn from, and things start to shift in a big way in 74. You didn’t ask but contemporary writings about their early solo music is something I’m fascinated by anyway and you turned the wind-up toy key in my back, so. Off I go. This is gonna be so, so long.

At different points in the decade, all of them were subject to a sullying of their personal reputations. That is where I do agree with you: all of them were subjected to that by the press, to varying degrees, at varying times, and for various reasons for each of them. That is just what happens to public figures the longer they are public figures. Tabloids mess with everyone no matter how beloved they are. 

However, that’s not what I generally see Paul fans getting upset about. What I see is that they’re upset at the way the much more legitimate and widely respected music press approached Paul’s music and talent in general. It is widely received knowledge now that the critics treated Paul’s music differently than they did John’s and George’s and even Ringo’s; the trashing was not “equal.” They came at John and George with the assumption that their talent was real and ongoing outside of the Beatles, their genius unquestionable, their motives pure and well-intentioned and honest. Paul was not afforded these assumptions. Some examples to show what I mean, most of them found through wikipedia, rocksbackpages, or rollingstone.com.

John

Plastic Ono Band was Robert Christgau’s number one album of 1970 in The Village Voice. from Creem’s review: “John's record, of course, has been righteously raved over ever since its release, justifiably. It's interesting and even enlightening to see a man working out his trauma on black plastic but more than that, it's totally enthralling to see that Lennon has once again unified, to some degree, his life and his music into a truly whole statement.” From High Fidelity’s review: "a tremendously exciting listening experience, perhaps the best any Beatle has ever offered." In their Imagine review, Rolling Stone called POB “perfect.” A couple reviews in the mainstream were more mixed, put off a little by the rawness of it, but overall the rock world quickly grew to see this album as a work of genius.

Imagine was even more widely well-reviewed, despite a mixed review from Rolling Stone (John fell out with Jann Wenner around this time, curiously). Here’s a passage from rateyourmusic.com: “Imagine was actually one of the most critically acclaimed albums of the year, aside from this tepid review in Rolling Stone. Indeed, much of the rock press seemed palpably relieved that the former Beatle hadn't gone completely off the deep end. ‘It's the best album of the year, and for me it's the best album he's done, with anything, or with anyone, at any time,’ Roy Hollingworth wrote in the 10/9/71 issue of Melody Maker. ‘The album is superb,’ Alan Smith agreed in the 9/11/71 issue of NME. ‘Beautiful. One step away from the chill of his recent total self-revelation, and yet a giant leap towards commerciality without compromise...I have no criticism at all.’”

Some Time in New York City was admittedly John’s nadir, and the press was vicious about it, both personally and musically, deeming the album egotistical, lacking in energy, and devoid of sincerity. However, many maintained a reverence for the genius that came before it and hopeful encouragement for the future. Rolling Stone said that “The Lennons should be commended for their daring;” Creem said it wasn’t half bad; and even though NME’s article was scathing, it ended with a plea for John to return to form, saying, “Don't rely on cant and rigidity. Don't alienate. Stimulate. You know, like you used to.”

Mind Games, though reviews were mixed, fared far better in comparison. Again, there is a hopeful tone to the reviews, a sureness that John can do better. From Rolling Stone talks about the music being a return to POB form, but the writing is his worst yet; however, Landau qualifies this by saying the lyrics aren’t “offensive, per se, just misguided... [John Lennon’s admirers] might even be able to withstand something more challenging” and then praises John’s voice, his production, and a few individual songs. In Melody Maker, Ray Coleman says, “if you warm to the rasping voice of Lennon and, like me, regard him as the true fulcrum of much of what came from his old group, then like any new Lennon album, it will be enjoyable and even important.” Christgau is more middling but also says, “Still, the single works, and let's hope he keeps right on stepping.”

Walls and Bridges seems confusing to reviewers in retrospect. They couldn’t seem to come to a consensus on it. The musicianship was widely praised, for the most part, though Rolling Stone criticized the first side on this front; reviewers alternately said it was “the latest chapter in John Lennon’s Identity Crisis” (Creem) and “truly a superb album by any standards” (Melody Maker). Throughout the Rolling Stone review, the author is able to thoroughly critique the songs, for better or worse, with a neutral affect and without resorting to insulting John personally. He ends the review on a positive note: “When one accepts one’s childhood, one’s parenthood and the impermanence which lies between, one can begin to slog along. When John slogs, he makes progress.” Again, even though the reviews aren’t all positive, we can see, especially and most importantly in the most influential rock magazine of the time, the acknowledgment of his talent, a sense of excitement for what John will do next, and a belief that his work is authentic and honest.

George

All Things Must Pass, I mean. Apart from a couple of outliers like Christgau in The Village Voice (he called it “overblown fatuity”), it was incredibly, almost universally beloved by the music press when it came out. There was quite a bit of surprise that such a talent had been under everyone’s noses all this time, but I don’t think anon is quite correct that all the credit for the Beatles went to Lennon/McCartney. For example, Ben Gerson in Rolling Stone recognized George’s talent within the Beatles like this: “Up until now, George has been perhaps the premier studio musician among rock band guitarists. From the electronic whine which began “I Feel Fine” to the break in “Hard Day’s Night” to the crazed, sitar-influenced burst on “Taxman,” George exhibited an avant-garde imagination and a technical flawlessness, as well as the ability to stay within the bounds of a song, which has remained unparalleled.” In Melody Maker, the feeling of journalists was summed up thusly: hearing the album was “the rock equivalent of the shock felt by pre-war moviegoers when Garbo first opened her mouth in a talkie: Garbo talks! – Harrison is free!" The personal nature and honesty of the lyrics were praised as well; Time described it as an “expressive, classically executed personal statement.” Ben Gerson did call his proselytizing offensive, but in the next sentence says that George redeems himself from that with the personal plea in Hear Me Lord.

Concert for Bangla Desh - again, some cynicism from Christgau in The Village Voice (must have woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day) and of course tax issues dogged it later, but overall, for the rock press at the time, this was a crowning achievement that George pulled off. He was praised all over the press, countercultural and mainstream, for his live musical talent, the group of musicians that joined him, the lack of political motivation, the sincerity and goodwill, and George’s ability to bring back  "a brief incandescent revival of all that was best about the Sixties" (Rolling Stone). To this day he is credited with creating the model for future charity concerts. 

Living in the Material World - Nothing could have topped the one-two punch of ATMP and the Concert for Bangla Desh, but honestly, LITMW came pretty close for some journalists. Rolling Stone again praised George’s honesty and authenticity: “ Despite the occasional use of “psychedelic puns,” Harrison’s lyrics are so guileless they convey an extraordinary sincerity that transcends questions of craftsmanship. Similarly, the devotions we are called upon to share with Harrison, though they communicate no specific, private torment, do have the authenticity of overheard prayers and are therefore sacred.” Melody Maker said, "Harrison has always struck me before as simply a writer of very classy pop songs; now he stands as something more than an entertainer. Now he's being honest." The pushback against his pious attitude and lyrics picked up some steam with this album, particularly with Christgau (again) and Tony Tyler of NME, who called it “so damn holy I could scream.” However, it was far from the consensus opinion at the time, and with the biggest rock magazine in the world at your back, you can withstand quite a bit.

Dark Horse, oof. That poor man. It did get some positivity in Billboard and Melody Maker, but my god, the reviews for this album and its subsequent tour were so cruel. I suspect when these anon(s) talk about the others being treated terribly by the press as well, this, along with John’s STINYC, is one of the examples they would give, and they’re not wrong about that. This was the point where George’s piety and what they perceived as a sanctimonious attitude finally started really getting to everyone, and the album plus the tour was the perfect opportunity to dogpile on him. I guess it was to be expected; no one can ride that high forever, and the press loves to knock people over and kick them while they’re down. Rolling Stone called it “disastrous,” “shoddy,” and called his guitar work “rudimentary,” eventually declaring that George had “never been a great artist.” This from the same magazine that was practically worshipping at his feet the year before. Yowch.

Ringo

Sentimental Journey - The less that’s said about this album, the better.

Beaucoups of Blues was actually quite well-received. No one called him a genius for it, and it wasn’t a serious personal record and therefore wasn’t treated that way, but journalists seemed uniquely able to let themselves enjoy this record despite the serious/political/personal tone of most musicians at the time. Melody Maker believed Ringo had  "conviction and charm" and that because of that, the album stripped away the serious “hip posturing” and let you just enjoy the music on its own terms. The Village Voice said that Ringo was “good at making himself felt.” Although Rolling Stone’s tone was a bit more cruel than other magazines (there was a crack somewhere in there that Ringo wasn’t as smart as John), it also called him lovable and the record “a real winner” where the songs “sound terrific.”

Ringo was a total smash and I think people forget this. It’s remembered only because it’s an album that was worked on by all four Beatles, but actually, the critics fuckin loved it. Ringo was praised in Rolling Stone for his unpretentiousness, sensibility, and essentially collaborative nature: “Ringo was always the figure of conciliation within the Beatles, undoubtedly the most genial, conceivably the most sensible, and the one with the smallest musical axe to grind. His very lapses bespoke the esteem in which the others held him; had they not liked him so much, those perfectionists would never have allowed him to sing. Perhaps because as the drummer he stood outside the process of creation, he had the best perspective from which to see the Beatles as a unity. Ringo has never had any pretense of self-sufficiency. Once he had gotten his special projects out of the way (projects for which John, Paul and George's talents would have been unsuited anyway) Ringo was ready to call upon the three most obvious people to assist him with writing, singing and playing. As Starr's first "pop album," Ringo signifies a homecoming, not just of family, but in musical style as well.”

Goodnight Vienna was kind of a minor album for Ringo, but still, reviews were pretty good. Rolling Stone praised his “unalloyed sincerity which is his trademark and trump card.” Yet again, we see the theme of authenticity popping up in these reviews - if you are perceived as authentic, honest, and sincere, that takes you a long way with music reviewers in this time period, and Ringo was nothing if not wholly, completely himself.

Paul

McCartney - One of the main complaints of Paul fans is that Jann Wenner forced Langdon Winner, the author of the review for this album in Rolling Stone, to rewrite his article and put a more negative spin on it. The result is that Winner praised most of the music but totally undermined his own praise by questioning the authenticity of the tone and deriding the press release that came with the album as much as he praised the music. He ends the article like this: “I like McCartney very much. But I remember that the people of Troy also liked that wooden horse they wheeled through their gates until they discovered that it was hollow inside and full of hostile warriors.” This was a huge blow at a time when personal authenticity and substance were considered paramount. Melody Maker also questioned the legitimacy of his genius, saying “With this record, [McCartney's] debt to George Martin becomes increasingly clear.” Most other reviews weren’t any better.

Ram, I mean, Jesus Christ the reviews for this. It’s a widely respected album now, even made the RS top 500 albums of all time list last year, but at the time people were still so angry with Paul for supposedly breaking up the Beatles that they were still taking it out on his music a year later (imo). Landau in Rolling Stone called it “emotionally vacuous” and said it lacked conviction, saying also that it was “so incredibly inconsequential and so monumentally irrelevant you can’t even [hate it]; it is difficult to concentrate on, let alone dislike or even hate.” NME called it “the worst thing Paul McCartney has ever done.” Threaded through these reviews is a belief that the songs are devoid of meaning and that Paul’s happy domestic front is just a frustrating lie; Christgau in The Village Voice said he was “infuriated by the McCartneys' modern young-marrieds image” - infuriated because he clearly doesn’t believe it, rendering Paul dishonest and his music inauthentic. Once again journalists are unable to review Paul’s music without sniping about him as a person.

Wild Life - Though the situation remains largely the same - reviewers refuse to take him seriously, believe anything he says, or treat his musical talent as anything but vacuous fluff - the reviews aren’t quite as bad as they were for Ram and a bit of positivity begins to stir. It’s evident especially in the Rolling Stone review, where Mendelsohn wonders if Paul is making crappy fluff on purpose to piss John off because it will sell just as well anyway. It’s not much, and on top of the fairly strong criticism there is almost no hope for future Paul releases: “My own conviction is that we'd be foolish to expect anything much more earth-shaking than Wild Life out of McCartney for a good long while... In the meantime the reader is advised to either develop a fondness for vacuous but unpretentious pop music or look elsewhere for musical pleasure.” But it’s something.

Red Rose Speedway Paul continues to be lambasted by a lot of the press on this album for being lightweight and having no meaning behind his songs (at this point it’s just repetitive to quote the articles, just trust me that they say basically the same thing they were saying for the past three albums too), BUT I think a nuance that gets forgotten in all of this is that Rolling Stone gave it kind of a decent review. It seems like they finally quit gatekeeping and realized that songs don’t need to have some deep personal meaning to be good. Kaye is still not very nice about Paul’s lyrics but he recognizes that he doesn’t have to take Paul’s music on the same terms as he takes John and George. Paul’s music is less personal, but that doesn’t make it unworthy. He calls it “pleasant, accessible without concentration” and praises Paul’s voice and arranging skills. It feels like for this album, Rolling Stone took the stick out of its own ass when it came to Paul and finally relaxed enough to receive Paul’s music on his terms rather than theirs. Which, imo, primed the rock world for...

Band on the Run, Paul’s comeback. Even though Christgau in The Village Voice remained unconvinced (he called it “a pleasant piece of hackwork”), almost everyone else adored it. It seems weird to us now, but the general sentiment seemed to be that people were surprised by how good this album was. NME said, “The ex-Beatle least likely to re-establish his credibility and lead the field has pulled it off with a positive master-stroke”; and although Landau’s review in Rolling Stone overflowed with praise, he also said, “I'm surprised I like Band on the Run so much more than McCartney's other solo albums because, superficially, it doesn't seem so different from them.” 

I hope I’ve been able to demonstrate a general trajectory with the musical reputation of each Beatle here. John starts off on two incredible high points, crashes and burns, and then works his way back up. He DEFINITELY missed with STINYC, but even when he followed it up with Mind Games, there was still a hopeful tone to the reviews, sort of like, “Ah, well, the last two weren’t great but we’re still looking forward to what John will give us next.” Until the Dark Horse tour/album, which did sour the press on poor George, the music press adored him. It was hit after hit with him. He could not miss. Three high points, one after the other, then a monumental crash. Ringo seems to stay fairly high, even if the records aren’t serious records. All three of them start out incredibly well, and the music press was able and willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Paul was given none of that. Perhaps because he was out of step with the attitudes about music at the time, perhaps because journalists hated him for breaking up the Beatles, perhaps because they believed John when he painted Paul as “establishment,” perhaps a combination - whatever their issue was, Paul was given no benefit of the doubt to start with, no faith in his genius, and no belief in his authenticity. He was just a hack to the music press for the first few years of the 70s; he started at the bottom and was forced to work his way up, unlike the other three. It started, imo, when Wenner forced the journalist who wrote the McCartney review in RS to rewrite the article, and it spiraled from there. He was seen as hollow and uncool, as one of the anons said, “straight” in the parlance of the time - straight meaning “establishment.” This is kind of where I do start to roll my eyes a little bit at stans, when they get upset at people calling him “establishment” and trying to prove that actually he was so anti-establishment that people couldn’t handle it or whatever, without trying to understand what the word “anti-establishment” meant at the time. But there are also really substantive arguments you can make that say Paul’s music was not taken seriously because of a personal grudge against him.

I’m not saying that all of them didn’t have run-ins with the music press. I’m saying there is nuance here that I don’t think these anons are allowing for in the first few years of that decade. They came at George and John and Ringo with a positive, or at least neutral, slant most of the time. They came at Paul with a negative one. Case in point are the reviews of Band on the Run that were surprised at how good it was. That stuff gets people’s hackles up. The others didn’t have positive reviews rewritten to be more negative. The others didn’t have albums savaged that are now on the Rolling Stone top 500 albums of all time list. I do agree that John, at least, and George post Dark Horse, had a harder time with the music press than people generally remember or care to think about – deification is retroactive, I guess, and as Paul fans we should definitely recognize that Paul wasn’t the only one who went through a rough time with the press. But I do think Paul’s situation was made uniquely and unjustifiably difficult for those first few years.

I mean, at the same time, I cannot stress enough how much this did not affect his bottom line. Despite the horrible reviews, Ram still made a ton of money, McCartney made a ton of money, Band on the Run and Wild Life and Red Rose Speedway all made a ton of money. He had a fanbase, a huge one, that followed him loyally and faithfully through the early 70s as he was getting savaged by the press, and through the middle and late 70s when he was touring. At some point, you have to step back and go, wait. Why does any of this matter? This was 50 years ago. He was a multi-millionaire then and is a billionaire now. And you are right; whenever people over-generalize and try to make the case that Paul was always badly reviewed and the others were press darlings, I tend to get annoyed because they’re totally missing the actually interesting nuances of the situation (that can be easily found online! I found most of the music reviews through snippets on Wikipedia!) In conclusion, I guess my point is that both “Paul was vilified while everyone else wasn’t” and “everyone was equally vilified” paint the events of the early 70s with brushes that are too broad and miss the nuance that was evident in the way the press interacted with their music.

[eclecticwordblender]

Since @the-rambling-maiden gave me the kind of validation that makes one cry with joy. I couldn’t wait to publish part 2 of Mahabharata High School AU. Ik it’s too long I’m sorry 🥺.

Senior students in the limelight:

Yudhishthir:

The headboy.

Tries really hard to excell, still is barely above average.

Is driven by the idea that everyone likes him while most of his classmates find him plain annoying. Some of the teachers too.

Is the headboy because for some unknown reason Bheeshma likes him and no one likes to disagree with the principal. Dhritrashtra tried opposing but no one really listens to him.

this kid, Krishna ran a campaign that convinced everyone that Yudhishthir is the best headboy they could have. Without that he had no chance.

Everyone else just accepted and now listens to him because that’s what Krishna wants.

“Okay I’ll give a very interesting lecture in Moral science class.”

- everyone, even the teacher struggles to stay awake.

Draupadi:

Head girl.

Has witty comebacks to everything.

An all rounder.

Looking at her, everyone wonders why someone as under achieving as Yudhishthir gets to be the other school captain.

Changed her name to Panchaali. But everyone still calls her Draupadi. Doesn’t like it, but has made her peace with it.

Is already done with the world’s patriarchal ways which are the basis of the school’s sexist rule book.

Is EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY beautiful.

Once, some juniors went to the principal’s office and saw a picture of the first headmistress. They were all admiring her beauty while Draupadi walked in. And suddenly all the admiration shifted to her.

An iconic friendship quadrent of Arjuna, Satyabhama, Krishna and Draupadi exists right since they joined school.

Had a beef with the Geography teacher, Kunti because had a thing going with Arjuna for a while.

“🧚🏻‍♀️🥰 How are we ignoring our beloved head boy today?🥰🧚🏻‍♀️”

Arjuna:

Heart eyes uwu.

Soccer team captain.

Is some sort of a ladies man. However, always prioritises his ECAs and Krishna.

All rounder. Had the achievements to be head boy, definitely not the time.

Girls are always crushing on him.

Dated Draupadi in the freshman year, it didn’t work out. Is still best friends with her though.

Currently in a relationship with Subhadra, she’s two years younger, but our boi doesn’t really care because he’s so smitten by her. Bestfs still above her though.

Is Kunti’s favourite kid. Kunti is an actual sweetheart exclusively to him.

Everyone loves him.

Sometimes sick of all the attention he gets.

Major enimity with the soccer team’s vice captain, Karna.

“I WILL PROVE THE VICE CAPTAIN IS NO MATCH TO ME!”

Bheema:

Really tall, really husky, Fitness freak.

Still loves food more than right about anything.

There’s only one person he’d choose over food. The head girl. Some say he has had a crush on her since junior school. Draupadi values him a lot but doesn’t seem to reciprocate the attention he gives her.

Is stupid, but it’s okay because he’s also the good-est boy in town.

Not very bright academically.

Doesn’t get the recognition he deserves.

Literally the BEST basketball player, but all everyone in school seems to care about is soccer and track events :/.

Has anger management issues which land him into trouble very often.

“Panchaali! You should be proud of me, I prevented a murder today, BY CONTROLLING MY ANGER.”

Nakul:

Is a year younger to everyone in his class.

Really cute, really handsome. Is also well aware about this.

Is not much of a ladies man but SO MANY PEOPLE have crushes on him.

Is practically never seen without his guitar and bestf, Sahadev, who is the only one who shares his birth year.

Can be found giving out personalised skin care routines for fun. And Sahadev, being the brains of the duo, charges in cash, that is how both of them get their pocket money.

Goes to the restroom after every period to make sure his hair are still on point.

Has a successful band. Obviously he’s the lead.

“Wow! Who is this beauty!? Oh my God! This is why I use mirrors as mood boosters.”

Sahadev:

Smartest kid in the school. School topper.

Can talk about random trivia for hours, and people like listening to him.

Is either in the library or hanging out with Nakul.

Hates school A LOT.

Sahadev doesn’t attend a lot of classes because he knows teachers aren’t of any help to him.

Always attends maths class, even though he doesn’t like Sir Shakuni. Prolly because he wanted to be Shakuni’s fav but Shakuni only likes the bad boys. Sigh.

Is a walking human encyclopaedia.

“Why is everyone so stupid!? I WANNA GO HOME! I HATE YOU ALL! (Except my boi Nakul).”

Krishna:

(Ik everyone in the fandom loves him v much. Please don’t hate me for this.)

Manipulative to a point its very toxic.

Doesn’t like taking responsibilities and being held accountable

so just tricks people who take up responsibility into listening to him.

The OG heart eyes in the campus.

Still ships Draupadi and Arjuna for some reason. Even though he treats Arjuna’s girlfriend as his younger sister.

So stubborn.

Is good at everything but doesn’t like the lime light.

A Krishna-Shakuni Feud is the best source of entertainment.

Krishna seems to think that every body who disagrees with him is absolutely wrong and would go any length to make a point. Is also sort of disrespectful to the teachers he doesn’t like.

However, has a very captivating charm that makes him most people’s favourite. Shakuni sees through his well planned schemes because he has fully functional brain cells.

Loves his friendship quadrant and a girl from some other school who visits often, a lot.

A feminist. Hates the school’s rule book in a positive manner.

“🧚🏻‍♀️🥰 What mischief should I do today? And how do I trick someone into thinking it was their idea, not mine?🥰🧚🏻‍♀️”

Karna:

Soccer team vice captain.

Here on a scholarship.

Every girl with daddy issues is head over heels for him.

Uses Hating Arjuna as a personality trait.

Also uses his love for Duryodhana as another personality trait.

Has lots of rumours about him. He doesn’t care because all he cares about is defeating Arjuna.

A lot of students ship Draupadi with him. It’s just stupid. Both of them dislike each other, but are too evolved to care about stupid rumours.

Is extremely generous.

Since the owner’s kid, who is RICH is his bestf, he never misses a chance to slide a meal from the overpriced canteen to any one who forgot lunch.

Suffers from classism and tries very hard to fight the inferiority complex he gets because most kids around are super rich.

Dronacharya dislikes him, he dislikes him back, however, still tries to win him.

Has abandonment issues.

Some say he looks upto Ma’am Kunti for validation.

The cricket coach, Pashuram, likes this kid though.

“Are you challenging me Arjuna!?”

Duryodhan:

Thinks too highly of himself.

Being the owner’s kid makes up for half his personality. The other half is his devotion towards his beloved Karna.

Is probably bi and Has a not so subtle crush on his bestf.

Has another personality that is devoted to trying to convince everyone he should be head boy.

He once started an intervention demanding “Duryodhana should be headbody” and he was also the leader on the intervention. Karna was unwillingly in his support.

Is Sir Shakuni’s favourite bratty kid.

Only listens to Shakuni or Karna.

Comes up with evil and downright mean mischiefs but always fails.

He once tried to full on flirt with Draupadi but got his a*s whooped.

Tried to sabotage Yudhishthir’s reputation but Krishna’s interference led him to fail.

“Where’s Mitr Karna!?!? I get anxiety when I don’t have him or Sir Shakuni around for long!”

“I should be headboy! No head girl. Karna should be headboy 2.”

Dushasan:

Befriended Duryodhana first year of school.

Looks up to Duryodhana. Only imitates his bad qualities. That’s it, that’s his entire personality.

Even Shakuni who loves bratty kids, dislikes this one.

Has more haters than the headboy. Except people hate on him openly.

Total failure.

A bully.

Dushasana can be found in the last room on the third floor of the oldest block very often. That’s the detention room.

Tries to flirt with every girl around, and girls just ew this creep AS THEY SHOULD.

Doesn’t have a personality of his own.

“Dury Bro! HOW DID YOU DO THAT? CAN I TOO PLEASE?”

Sikhandi/Sikhandini:

FEMINIST.

Gender fluid and ready to teach a lesson to anyone who invalidates her.

Strong and independent.

Important member of the soccer as well as the cricket team.

Also, a star athelete.

Has a very strong bonding with Ma’am Amba because VERY similar.

Sikhandi/Sikhandni can be seen gossiping with Amba on the stair case a lot, some claim to have heard them trash talk Bheeshma.

Bold and not afraid to stand for what they believes in without caring about the consequences.

Once they gave herself a third ear piercing, using a compass when Kunti told her a double piercing was a distraction after Yudhishthir complained about it.

Emerges as a parent figure to juniors who are bullied for being different.

“As long as you have the right intentions you’re valid okay?”

Drishtdyum:

Introvert.

Minds his own business.

Manages good grades and a spot in the sports squad.

He found out he shared his birthday with the Draupadi in second grade. Loves her like a sister since then.

The basketball coach sees some spark in him that no one else does.

Is liked by all but doesn’t get the attention he deserves.

Is pretty content with life in General.

Ashwatthama:

Soccer coach’s kid.

Is self aware.

Realistic and practical.

Suffers from major attention deprivation.

Duryodhan lent him a pencil case in second standard. Asshwatthama tries so hard to become his favourite ever since.

The Iconic Karna Dury duo however, ignore almost always.

Expanded the “Duryodhana should be headboy” intervention but his efforts weren’t recognised.

Closeted gay.

Respects superiors while disliking them.

Quite bitter.

“Will this win me Duryodhan’s love?”

Subhadra:

Eyes like forest pools.

Looks up to Draupadi as a role model.

Arjuna is her weakness even though she’s dating him.

Kunti likes her. Doesn’t mind if she’s dating Arjuna.

There’s this brilliant student in the junior section, Abhimanyu. Subhadra and Arjuna spend a lot of time with him together. They sort of look like a very happy family.

Always tops English and History class.

Gossip queen xoxo.

“Draupadi Didi and Krishna bhaiya said so, Arjuna you know I cannot say no to them.”

Dushala:

Is the sweetest person around.

Believes there is some good in every person.

Even hangs out with Duryodhana and squad thinking they’ll change some day.

Karna and Dushala often discuss how to mend this group’s ways, assisted by Dury’s girlfriend, Bhanumati.

Is stuck in a relationship with a jerk but doesn’t have the heart to break up with him.

Is literally kindness personified.

Dushala’s favourite teacher is Gandhaari. Probably because no one else gives the teacher validation and Dushala doesn’t like when someone is sad.

Jayadaratha:

Terrible person.

Only the size of a grain of sand better than Dushasana.

Started Dating Dushala Sophomore year.

Dushala really wants to break up with this jerk but she’s too sweet to hurt someone even as terrible as him so she just avoids him.

Once Draupadi slapped him in public. Dushala cheered the loudest.

Is only relevant because of his girlfriend.

Bhanumati:

Says Duryodhana is an excellent boyfriend.

Corrects her man when he’s wrong.

Is also close friends with Karna.

Led the intervention against the “Duryodhana should be headboy intervention.”

It hurt Dury but it’s okay because Bhanumati has her own thoughts and he respects that. Guess he is actually a good boyfriend.

“OMG DURY!!!! STOP IT! KARNA HOW DO WE STOP DURY FROM DOING ANOTHER F*CK UP?”

Yuyutsu:

Is very lovable.

Boy has no hater.

Somehow was befriended by Duryodhan in junior school.

Feels stuck in the Dury gang ever since.

Secretly, very strongly admires Yudhishthir, Arjuna, Draupadi and of course, KRISHNA.

Is everything you’d wanna fix in Yudhishthir.

Yuyutsu, Dushala and Vikarna trio is bff goals.

“Is there any way I can change my friend group? Face palms”

Vikarna:

Counsels Duryodhana on Yuyutsu’s advise.

There isn’t much to say about him. Dude’s a good guy with humanly flaws.

Feels stuck in Dury gang but has made his peace with their ways.

Dushala, Yuyutsu and Vikarna are often found gossiping with Ma’am Gandhaari, she often warns them about how their other friends are bad kids and they should not get influenced.

“Why!? Because yuyutsu says so that’s why!”

Eklavya:

Here on scholarship.

This poor kid was bullied so much initially when he joined school because of his economic status.

Coach Drona wouldn’t let him into the soccer team because he’s afraid someone might out shine his favourite.

Stays away from the dirty politics in school.

Became a star athelete despite all the odds he faced.

Eklavya was once locked in the washroom before a 100m race on the sports day. No one knows who did that for sure. Although some people claim to know it was Coach Drona.

Rukmini:

President of the theatre club.

Crushes on Krishna for an unknown duration.

Krishna does give her attention because EXCUSE ME, she is impossible to ignore.

Rukmini befriended Nakul in the corridors as they bumped into each other after every period, while going to/coming from the washroom to check their respective hairdos.

Satyabhama:

Is Draupadi’s psychological twin.

President of the debating society.

Another one of Krishna’s closest friends.

The school is full of Satyabhama-Krishna shippers. But their friendship quadrant knows Krishna is smitten by this girl from some other school.

Radha:

The girl from some other school.

Probably goes to an all girls convent school.

Is shy but can be seen having a a gala time with Krishna after school. Friends w Subhadra too.

Nobody in school knows much about her but it’s evident Krishna and her are 11/10 soulmates uwu.

Rukmi:

Rukmini’s twin brother.

Is overly protective of his sister.

Thinks he’s well sorted but almost always creates a mess.

Has some sort of minor feud with Krishna.

Is neck deep in a very toxic friendship with Shishupal.

Shishupal:

Rebel without a cause.

A headache.

Wants to fight Krishna but is scared of him.

Wants to join the Dury gang but no on lets him in.

Shishupal is known to spread the most problematic rumours in school.

Hidimbi:

Stays occupied in her small social circle of not so popular kids.

She’s famous, though doesn’t talk to many people.

Proposed to Bheem in middle school.

Bheem gently turned her down because he was already mad about Draupadi. Hidimba moved on with life without sulking about it. Probably still likes him though.

Also, really close to this Ghatotkutch person who is in fifth grade.

Ulupi and Chitrangada:

Dated Arjuna for a few weeks each.

Then bonded over how he’s not a good boyfriend and not as perfect as everyone thinks he is. they do have a point though.

Are now bestfs and don’t like anyone else in school.

Since, I’m an attention wh*re tagging: @bigheadedgirlwithbigdreams @soniaoutloud @supermeh-krishnafan @incorrectmahabharatquotes @chaanv @hoeticulture @lemponkoira @1nsaankahanhai-bkr

Also, link to part 1: https://eclecticwordblender.tumblr.com/post/625462681921568768/foundation

[singeramg]

Are you still doing request for your 500 followers celebration ? If you are I would like to request Nr 4 “Is there a reason you are here?” With Walter Marshall 😊

Oh wow, it seemed this one was supposed to be easy and short. Nope. Didn’t happen that way so here’s part one of three. I hope that you like it and thats much for participating in this!

Title: The Heart Fate Breaks - Part I

Rating: M

Pairing: Walter Marshall ( Nomis/ Night Hunter) / Reader!

Warnings: ANGST!, Implied Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of illegal activity, implied depression, deception, kidnapping, descriptions of violence, but not completely detailed, loss of pregnancy, and of course smut.

A/n: This is my first attempt at Walter Marshall so if he seems to ooc, then let me know ( kindly please), Also there are gifs scattered through this piece and that is because that is how I am imagining him aging throughout the story. Sorry if seeing other Henry Characters throws you off too bad. If I get too many complaints about it I will take them out. Thanks for giving this a chance

Part 1: The end is always closer than you think: 

      This had been a long time coming. Fated is a word many would put to it. You’d spent so much time crying over this man, imagining what the reaction would be once you saw him again that you lost many nights of sleep. Nobody knew the hurt you felt when you realized that all of it had been a lie. That you meant nothing to him. A pawn in a lengthy game of chess all to catch someone else in his net.

You met Marshall back when you were both young, a 18 year old and a 20 something that was still trying to figure out the world. You a young idealistic type, determined to get away from a bad home life and he came in as the bad boy, riding his motorcycle, leathered up, a chip on his shoulder ready to prove to the world he was bad ass, but one look at you and he softened like a stick of butter.

Flashback:

        It had been a typical Friday night. It had been one of your first college parties at least as an actual student. It had been a night of being deemed the Freshman-Fresh Meat and it seemed everywhere you turned some frat was trying to paw you in some misplaced sense of entitlement. You rebuffed many and sent them away holding your drink in hand. You’d gotten bored as the roommate you’d came with didn’t have the same ideals of coming into the party together and leaving together as your phone just dinged with a ‘don’t wait up’ text message from her. You saw a few familiar faces from your Chem. Class, and after a few moments of small talk, you were ready to go back to your dorm, and would have done except, he walked through the door.

He was the type of guy that made you pay attention to him with his tall stature and natural curls, clearly confident, despite having a baby face he was certainly older, and he somehow commanded attention and respect. It was definitely a turn on.  Clearly, you weren’t the only one who noticed him as the sorority girls and other randoms from the party were conveniently finding themselves in his path. You found it interesting that he did it so smoothly, a wide smile and some sort of flirting behavior that got them to move and let him walk through the crowd. Some girlish part of you wanted him to notice you. You wanted him to see you above all the petty makeup and unclothed bodies. It was unlikely to happen so just as you tossed back the rest of the beer from your red solo cup, losing  sight of the gorgeous man and settled for tossing the cup in the overflowing trash. You give a few halfhearted goodbyes as you head for the door but in a twist of fate, you trip over something random on the floor, well actually it was more like something was wet on the floor, but you lose even more chances of staying on your feet, by running into someone else who’d been dancing, he turns around pissed but the missing bad boy catches you in strong arms and defuses it rather quickly.

“Can’t let the prettiest girl in the room crack that face can I?”

His ego is evident in his words. It makes your eyes roll and you straighten up. Removing his hands from your hips, you dust off and step back, not letting yourself become intimidated by his height over you. You put on your armor of fake confidence when faced with an undetermined outcome of a situation.  At your attempted step back he steps forward, not giving you a chance to avoid his cologne and damn him if he didn’t smell like fucking woods, and warmth and everything you liked. You ignore the errant thoughts of climbing him like a tree and push him back, but his grip only loosens, doesn’t actually release you.

“No but maybe she will crack yours if you don’t back up.”

He tosses his head back, loose curls falling away from his face, you bite a sigh at the jawline again.

“Awe is that how’d you repay a man just trying to help?”

He steps even closer but you don’t move back this time.

“Usually no, but for you I’d make an exception.”

“Here I was thinking I’d get a thank you.”

“And I was thinking I’d get personal space. Do you want me to pat you on your back, maybe a cookie?” You know you sound patronizing, but you don’t care. You weren’t ready to give up the ghost yet.

“ I’d settle for your name?”

You can’t deny the big blue eyes that were trying to form something substantial between the two of you.

“It’s Y/N.”

“A beautiful name for the equally impressive woman in front of me.” He is laying it on kind of thicker than you normally go for, but you find yourself unable to turn him away.

“Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

“ Marshall...Walker.”

He offers you and you say to him,

“ Now that we’ve got past the hard part, I must ask Is there a reason you are here? You know still in my face” noting that he was still holding you lightly, He dazzles a wide smile, sharp pointed canine teeth that screams he wants to make you his prey.

“Maybe I am just not ready to let you go.”

The cheesy line works and  you let him take your hand to get another drink.

And so it began...

*End Flashback

       He fell into the place as your protector, nobody ever dared to put their hands on you when he was around, nobody in your terrible family ever even let you see the dark side to what they did again. Mostly.

You weren’t stupid you knew they had been dealing and apart of gang activity for years, but honestly it kept you safe from a lot of outside forces, it just didn’t protect you from the inside.

You were in your 30s now. A decade and a half between the first time you met him and now, you’d made peace that you had done everything you could to escape the feeling of being utterly alone in the world. You were tired. You were tired of putting on a brave face, tired of setting your own standards so high that if by chance anyone could connect you to your family they’d know without a doubt that you managed to land a whole field away from the tree.

You’d had relationships since Marshall but despite everything you couldn’t find that connection in anyone else. The colors had faded with the hurt, leaving behind whispers of memories of time you’d never get back. The memories always hurt when they crashed into you. The late night walks along the creeks and bridges, the talks that lasted hours without trying, how he’d been so gentle in being your first, the way he held you in his arms every time the world got to be too much.

*Begin Flashback #2*

It was a warm summer night, thankfully a breeze came across that made the muggy night just bearable. Marshall had hit it off enough with your family that they had basically adopted him into the fold.

Well everyone except your mother, but she didn’t truly like anyone so it was no surprise he shot thinly veiled insults at Marshall, and he took it like a champ for the sake of loving you.

He worked for them, but maintained a job at the docks too, to help them. Having found time away from his job down at the docks to spend what he could with you made you feel above it all.  He gave you those butterflies in your stomach, made you feel like you could accomplish anything. Despite him getting into the family business he was only doing that so that he could make enough money to take you away from this life. He’d listened when you explained how your family lived and how you tried so many times to get away but they always tracked you down and dragged you back. They barely wanted you to go to college but you’d let them know that if they wanted you quiet then letting you continue your education your way was the only option. You family had always teased you for wanting more but Marshall didn’t. He encouraged everyone of your dreams and pushed you even when you didn’t think it was possible. His duality was astounding for you to witness because he never let anything happen when you were with him, the epitome of strong, quiet, powerful type, a man of very few words, but you always knew he cared. He made sure you wanted for nothing. So when enough time had passed in your mind, you felt he was worthy of your ultimate prize.

Not a decision to come to lightly but you decided that tonight you would give Marshall what many had been hoping to get from you as a means to controlling you or to say they had the untouchable Princess of the local mob family. So many had wanted for you to choose them but you knew it was meant to be Marshall.

So here you were a warm borderline  muggy summer night, spending time just outside the city in the field of a farm in Marshall’s old beat up pickup that he used for transportation, but now cleaned out and blanketed with old comforters and pillows, he’d gotten you away from the chaos of your world, somewhere no one could interfere and ruin it, and made you feel like it was just you and him.

His touches on your body were delicate as he hovered over you, small kisses and few drinks led to heavy petting and an understanding of what you wanted for yourself.

Marshall was it.

Strong hands slide up your heated flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake, folding into your hair, his body pressing yours into the bed of the pickup. Marshall kisses down your neck, peeling the fabric of your sundress off, his following yours, maybe not with the full grace of his hands because yours were shaking, but making eye contact once you lay before him assured you that this was the right choice. The right moment and when he grinds into you, making you hiss and buck into his hardness you pull him down by his curls and kiss him again. Letting him steal your breath away as he always managed to do as he pushes into you, only moments after making you climax on his tongue and fingers, beard burn forming from the stubble he was refusing to shave, from him tasting what you’d been so willingly open to giving him.

“Just breathe. Let me take care of you baby girl.”

You just hold on tightly to the back that has been putting on muscle steadily, as he kisses the side of your face, wiping tears off your skin with such a delicate touch,  and eventually the pain gives way to pleasure. Holding his body against yours, thrusting into you, alternating passionate kisses on your swollen lips to your neck and chest, and letting his hands move all over you once he takes note of you calming down. He feels like he is almost too much, but he just keeps encouraging you. You are making pitiful noises but it just encourages his movement. He knows exactly what to say too as your body gives way to him.

“There’s my girl opening up for me. Taking me all in.”

He grinds for emphasis, pushing his thickness into you harder than he had been and then you moan in his ear again. Soon he is steady, but he is driving you mad, with pleasure. You mildly wondered what had taken so long to experience this, but you also know it wouldn’t be like this with anyone but him.

“M...Marshall yes.”

You feel your walls pulsing against the cock inside of you, trying to force the largeness out of forgein territory but he stays exactly where you need him, even stopping as he pushes you both toward a force stronger than both of yourselves.

“You feel so good...”

His words are like honey pouring over you slow...

*End Flashback*

     It had been more than what you expected. Past the feelings of just lust, he made you feel like nothing could go wrong in this world. The hatefulness of your world, your family felt like nothing in his arms.  

He made you feel like you could do anything.

That had been years ago and now you hated him for it.

You had worked so hard not to feel this weak again but one flash of his picture, years aged came across your TV screen as he received commendation from the mayor had been enough to set you on edge. You don’t know this Walter Marshall.

The longer hair and a thicker beard, he almost doesn’t look familiar, but his eyes. His eyes always gave him away to you. He’d never been able to lie to you with them and his smile.

Turned out those had been the biggest lie of them all.

You’d taken your fair share of losses over the years but you’d also gained. You’d gained a hard earned degree in social work, you’d gained a job that had taken you around the world on missions to save kids, you’d accomplished so much and yet it meant nothing because the feeling of loneliness still persisted. You just purchased a beautiful home far removed from the wasteland of empty feelings and space  you grew up in but it had no life. It had no life because that life had been stolen from you so long ago.

So you go out to have a drink, maybe find a warm body to help you forget the way you felt, but somehow 1 drink turned into only one more but for some reason your head was spinning. You’d know this wasn’t you. You could handle your drinks, but by the time you could mention to anyone that it was sinister doings you were hogtied in some weirdo that had been at the bar basement. It was dark, and cold as you shivered against the concrete. The musk of wood and old damp space invaded your senses as the clothes tied around your mouth stole all the moisture from your mouth and you tried yelling to no avail. The basement door opens the weirdo comes down, his heavy weight no match for yours as he lifts you up from the floor, you kick, you scream, you fight, but he manages to drag you across the floor and down a hallway in that same basement that seems to go on forever, the end is a room. This room has a light but you wish it didn’t. The mattress is filthy and stained in various fluids that you don’t want to name. You mildly wonder if this is how you die.

How many had been in this exact same position as he handcuffs you to the gunmetal colored frame and it shakes barely holding onto your weight. You felt your face wet but you almost didn’t register that they were your tears until a raspy yet cold “my pets don’t cry. Unless I make them.”

You have to be shaking by now as the realization sets in that this was beyond simple murder, maybe beyond rape, he intended on torturing you until you thought death was the gift. You screw your eyes shut, memories of one of the other times you felt worse take over your brain and with no distractions as you normally have, you fall in head first to your own personal hell...

Begin Flashback 3

      It had been a year with Marshall. A full glorious year of just being with him and him protecting you from your family. He’d sat with you through various holidays, played nice with your brothers and father, while working his way up the ranks to where now he was one of the most trusted in the organization. You never questioned how he did it, only that he came home to you. You’d moved in together about two months ago, against the wishes of your mother who didn’t think much of her daughter. In fact she had it made up in her mind that you thought you were better than them, that you were hateful and spiteful when in reality all you wanted was freedom.

You wanted the freedom to love and do what you wanted, not be judged by the legacy of blood your family left in its wake.

You’d only wanted him and Marshall made sure you knew he felt the same. He had a cold streak that could frighten some of the deadliest men you knew. How one look could shut them down and if it didn’t get shut down he...took care of it. However you two were about to embark on a whole new journey.

Parenthood.

Not that he knew. You’d only just figured it out yourself with a handful of home pregnancy tests and then a blood test with your doctor. You loved your child already and he’d talked about a family with you but the time right now was all off, but you knew the kind of man he was would do what he could for you. It wouldn’t be easy but the motto had always been “together”. It didn’t make you any less scared to be a mom which is why despite your strained relationship with your own you went to her for advice.

The house looked and felt just as it did growing up. A large home full of beautiful things but coldness. The lack of cars told you that the rest of your family wasn’t home, which was exactly what you didn’t want. If your father and brothers found out before Marshall, they wouldn’t care how much money he made them, they’d make his life a story of regret from the day he saved you from a face plant at the party. No you had to break the news, but you needed some advice. So you walk in, following the smell of white diamonds perfume your mother loves, up to the grand master bedroom. Taking off your shoes and the maid, takes your coat.

You almost laughed as you walked into the hallways of the house. Before your family transitioned into major players of the drug scene, you remembered the simpler times of a small house, fenced in porch that your grandma would sit on drinking tea and reminiscing as she told you stories about her childhood. Your mom is actually caring about what you wanted and needed. It had been a simplistic time, blissfully unaware of what your father did, your brother just going into high school, and the care of your mother was probably the reason you were pacing outside her bedroom door now.

You knock on one side of the white french doors and wait for an answer like you were taught to do, sweeping your feet across the soft carpet in small half circles.

“Come in Y/N.”

You smirk and open the door , following the light from her en-suite bathroom to where she was sitting at the vanity, putting the last touches on her full face of makeup.

“How did you know it was me momma?”

She laughs at you, a sharp smile on her face, framed by delicate laugh lines, still beautiful on the outside even if you knew how ruthless she could be with what she wanted. You hoped that the joy of a new grandchild would overshadow that you weren’t married to the father first. That he wasn’t some guy of high standing that she’d envisioned married you off to.

“You’ve been fidgety since you were a child, your brothers only knock if it’s an emergency AND your father was here, which considering what he has going on today home is the furthest thing from his mind. Honestly it never is even or normal days dear, but never the less I know you well enough that you aren’t here for just pleasantries.”

So you sigh and look down into her eyes, only because she was still sitting down, but you still felt like a child. Magically, it takes her only a minute and 17 seconds before her eyes widen and she looks at you.

“Oh my goodness *Your full name Here* you are pregnant.”

At her words you drop to your knees at her feet, much like a small child she lets you put your head in her lap as the relief of someone other than your doctor knowing about the life inside of you. She pats your head soothingly and you feel for the first time that she is on your side.

“It’s okay sweetheart. We will be okay, everything will be okay. We can make this go away. Nothing has to change.”

You look up at her this time, confusion filling your eyes and you shake your head.

“No... no that...that’s not...momma that’s not why I care here.”

She looks at you and scoffs, not caring as she stands up.

“Don’t be foolish Y/N. You are still a child yourself.”

You pull yourself to your feet, wiping the tears from your face. Ready to rebel against her thoughts of what you could be and what you were.

“I am not a child mother. I am 21.”

“You are not ready for a child.”

“Is anyone ever really?” You say with an off handed attitude that she clearly doesn’t appreciate. She steps around the chair to get closer to you.

“You most certainly are not. Besides what about all these lofty plans you made for yourself. You are the one who just HAD to go college. We spent all this money for you to go and you want to toss it away by having a child with nobody who can barely afford that hovel you live in much less a whole child.”

Angry she tossed a hand in the air in disbelief of her decision.

“We both do just fine...”

“You do just fine because of us. He works for us. We allowed this to go on for as long as possible because he seemed to keep you out of trouble and more or less distracted. He promised us he would keep you safe, make sure you knew what it means to be with someone in this lifestyle as a true partner, so that when the time comes to let you go to someone worthy...”

“You are lying! You will say anything to get me to do what you want. Marshall loves me and he will love this baby.”

“What did I just say child?! He cannot love you, because if he did he would know this would only hold you back. Your father and I have so much to show you, to give you the keys to be comfortable in such ways we never had growing up and you want to toss it away for a glorified errand boy!”

“ So this is just about control. Just like you always do. You can’t stand to see me happy unless you are the one holding the puppet strings. Well you know what...I am done. All of this is done! Marshall and I raise this child and will be everything that you hoped we failed at. I promise you will never see this child if this is how you view us.”

You turn quickly, determined to get as far away from her as possible, tears in your eyes, you were determined not to let her see you cry anymore. She no longer deserved that part of you.

“Goodbye Mother.”

She says reverting the formal manners she’d paid through the nose for you to develop. She let you get a few down the steps before you hear her race after you.

“Wait! Y/n please wait!”

The pleading tone was new and unexpected for you. You hadn’t heard the tone used for anything other than in childhood when begging your father not to do something stupid. You had never heard her use it in reference to you. She sounded heartbroken and is why you stop. She runs behind you, a step above you as you turn with tears in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Y/N please don’t leave like this. I just worry for you. You are my only daughter and suddenly my little girl isn't a little girl. I didn’t handle it well.”

You turn with a small smile and look at the soft look on her face. Once again not seen much since childhood, but it wasn’t forced.

“ No you didn’t but I guess we can give you a second chance to get it right.”

She wraps both arms around your shoulders and you both let her, touching her hands with a soft pat.

“So tell me, baby doll does anyone else know about this gift yet?”

You feel yourself beaming at her interest, the childhood nickname making you preen, excited that you would have guidance and maybe even get back the mother you’d been missing since you moved into this house.

“No. Actually not even Marshall, I came over hoping you’d give me some advice on how to tell him. I am so nervous.” You say walking slowly because you weren’t close enough to hold onto either side of the railing on the large stairs.

“Oh don’t worry sweetie, I think that will be the least of your worries...”

You turn to look at her but her smile is gone and a strong shove sends you careening down the rest of the steps, terror fills your veins and you panic, your life flashing before your eyes, things you did, things you never got to say. Only sounds of your screams echoing in the foyer. You hear your mother's footsteps as your head spins as you land.

She yells for help, but before anyone can come she leans down and says

“I did this for you.”

You feel the room spinning as you fight to keep consciousness so you could tell someone...anyone about what she did. Just as a maid turns a corner, the front door blasts open with a battering ram. Cops swarm in and you are surrounded, your mother taken to the floor along with unsuspecting maids.

“Help me.”

You manage to breathe out just as you give into the wall of blackness and let yourself fall asleep.

Besides it was more comforting there than knowing your mother had just tried to kill you and your unborn child...

*End flashback 3*

You lost everything that day. Your world shattered on the floor of that marbled foyer and somehow that fear was more than what you felt right now. You wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry again. Of breaking you down to that debased state again.

Turns out that wasn’t good enough for your captor. So he provided the physical pain that gave him the tears he wanted. He wanted to remind you that you had no one who actually gave a damn. Maybe death this way was better.

You could be with the one person who hadn’t left you by volition.  You were once again facing that wall of unconsciousness but this time you were tired. Tired of life. The amount of energy it took for you to live was excruciating.

Without him.

Downright impossible.

You should know. You’d tried. So through your muffled whimpers as the weirdo finally decides he’s spilled enough of your blood and has reached where he can get it up enough to desecrate you.

He is climbing over you, the smell of hard liquor pouring from his pores and gross breath and he gets in your ear about how beautiful he thought you were as if that was supposed to endear you to him. You wake up just enough not to just lie there you start fighting back and he smacks you on an already swollen pain, but you fight even more. That bit of fight in you, won’t let this man break you. So you pull against the bindings and try to make it so he has no footing but he starts laughing more.

“There’s the fight. You were getting boring dear. Now... now... now... you really got potential.”

You pray for the ending as he grinds on you but another harsh sound comes as his weight disappears and in the red dim lighting of the room you hear and see the outline of a struggle. Two men fighting for domination of the other but  you didn’t know who would win, though it seemed your rescuer had some height over your captor. A few well placed punches and a hard kick to the stomach and your result is standing to his feet, wiping his mouth and you guessed handcuffing the weirdo.

“ Detective Marshall, Full breech, victim is alive, one suspect in custody, medical request for full evac on suspect and victims.”

No.

The voice. Your obvious head injuries were playing a trick on you.

He fumbles around the dirty room and manages to find the light switch and it hurts you so your eyes slam shut and squeeze tight as a way to protect you and also so that your mind doesn't have to reconcile the voice to the face.

One of many reasons you went out drinking alone in the first place.

He walks over to the bed and helps untie you and you whimper as the blood returns to your wrists and your eyes open to find Marshall sitting in front of you. He brushes blood from your face, and tilts your head up, finally making eye contact as you begin to get cloudy headed again because despite your conscious feelings about him, your body still knew it was safe.

“Y/N?” He sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, and honestly it probably was like a ghost.

“Marshall please don’t leave me.”

Your torso falls forward onto his and strong arms wrap around you and you finally sob yourself into unconsciousness....

A/n: So as always I am requesting opinions! I hope this wasn’t too triggering for anyone and that you are excited for the next two part which hopefully should be up in the next few days, as they are in the editing stage. 

If you feel so moved reblog, like, comment, follow.

TAGLIST: ( OPEN JUST SEND A REQUEST IF YOU WANT ON OR OFF, ALSO IF YOU HAVE REQUESTED TO BE ON MY HENRY TAG LIST BUT DON’T SEE YOUR TAG LISTED, LET ME KNOW ASAP) 

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[atomicstrawbrys]

Sometimes Devils Aren’t That Bad

Warnings: Some cursing, brief mentions of death and alcohol abuse.

Summary: Arthur’s job as an angel is to help his human live a selfless life. Alfred’s job as a devil is to let his human be selfish. Though Arthur may be hesitant to admit it, sometimes being a little bit selfish is okay. 

Author’s Note: i wrote this a long time ago and never posted it lmao, but I’ve had a couple people request some angel/demon stuff and that reminded me that this fic exists. enjoy! let me know if you liked it! //

Morals. Standards. Conscience. A general sense of right and wrong. Every human being on earth has one- a code by which they live their lives, a line in the sand which they won’t cross. Whether they admit it or not, a person’s life is entirely based on how okay they are with stepping on others to get what they want. Some listen to that tiny angel on their shoulder and stay on that path of righteousness no matter what temptation comes their way. Some can justify looking out for themselves more than others, and indulge in the earthly pleasures whispered in their ear by their little devil.

Arthur’s job was to be that path of righteousness. Though he didn’t sit directly on his charge’s shoulder -that tidbit of information was misinformed at best- it was his job to help steer his mentee to do the right, honorable thing. He would try his best to put them in situations where they would be encouraged to do good and to collaborate with other angels to bring them into contact with holier, wiser influencers on earth. 

His...colleague...Alfred’s job was to do the opposite. Alfred, for all his charm, was a devil, one who thrived on encouraging nasty habits and trying to get their human involved with a bad crowd. Alfred was the perpetual thorn in Arthur’s side, made only worse by the fact that they spent nearly every moment together. If he was on one side of their human, Alfred was on the other, trying to get them to do the opposite of whatever Arthur encouraged. And the worst of it all was the fact that Alfred seemed to think it was so funny to get him worked up. Alfred never suggested the human do anything too bad, not really, but it was the little things that drove Arthur absolutely mad. 

This was one of those little things. Their charge, Matthew, was sitting on his bed, phone in his hands. He was a teenage boy, just sixteen, and thankfully had not had to make any of the tough moral decisions in life yet. He was a kind, gentle and soft-spoken boy who believed in being a good person, and for that Arthur was grateful. However...he was also a teenager, and teenagers were notorious for pushing their boundaries and sometimes putting a toe across that line in the sand, just to see what would happen. Arthur was not very grateful for that. 

“Come onnn!” Alfred whined, lying on his back on Matthew’s bedroom floor. “What’s the worst that could happen! Just text him back and say you’ll go!” Matthew, of course, could not see nor hear Alfred directly- instead, the essence of his words swirled in the back of his mind, nagging at him. Ultimately it was Matthew’s decision, but both his guardians had a gentle pull. Arthur sat in the chair at Matthew’s desk, turned to face the two of them. He lightly kicked Alfred’s side.

“Matthew has a history test tomorrow, and history is his worst subject! He needs to stay home and study, so he can get a good grade and have a future!” 

Alfred snorted, looking up at him with blue eyes that always gleamed with mischief. “So what? His life isn’t gonna be determined by one little test. Besides, he really likes Gilbert, why not jump at the chance to go out with him?”

Arthur rubbed his temples with a frustrated groan. “Because Gilbert is a bad influence. He skips school, he disrespects his teachers, he drinks and has parties every weekend, and he’s definitely not going to go to college…” He shook his head. “No. No, I won’t let him influence Matthew into throwing away his future.”

The devil only shrugged and shifted his gaze from the angel over to his charge. He grinned, a little. “Sorry, Babe. Looks like Matthew’s going out.” 

“Don’t ‘Babe’ me- wait, what?!” Arthur sat up quickly, feathers on his wings ruffling.

“Yep! Text has been sent, Gil’s probably already on his way,” Alfred teased lightly, sticking out his tongue. “Suck it, Artie. Matt’s having fun.” The smile on his lips was good-natured, but, Arthur wasn’t amused. He simply huffed, crossing his arms and glowering. 

“If you think for one second I am going to just stand by and let this happen!” He got up, pacing back and forth across the room. “Do you enjoy it? Destroying someone’s life before they even get a chance to live it? He’ll start drinking and partying like Gilbert and soon his grades will slip and he’ll drop out of school and he’ll work a dead-end job for the rest of his life until he tries to rob a bank and dies in the shootout!” Arthur’s chest heaved, and he felt like he was going to throw up. He retched, and the shit-eating grin on Alfred’s lips fell away into concern. 

“Woah. Woah- do you really think that’s what’s gonna happen?” Alfred stood, walking to him and placing a hand on his arm. “Arthur, relax. We’ll go with them, okay? We won’t interfere, we’ll just..keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid. I promise I won’t egg him on.” 

Arthur sighed, his shoulders slumping. “...Promise?” When Alfred nodded, he seemed to relax. Just a little. “Fine. But I’m doing all I can to get him out of there if things go wrong.” Alfred conceded to that.

Arthur did have to admit that, when Gilbert showed up to the door with flowers, it was...a sweet gesture. One that Matthew seemed to like quite a bit. And, well...Gilbert’s plans for the date seemed innocent enough, too. A trip to the park, a bite to eat, and home before nine. Though Arthur wasn’t sure Gilbert would stick to his ‘plan’ -it could all be a lure to get Matthew into the car- it did sound nice. 

As the group of four headed out to the car, Alfred plucked a rose from Matthew’s bouquet. Neither Matthew nor Gilbert noticed- the bouquet hadn’t changed, not for them. Alfred had simply conjured up a replica. He held it out to Arthur, and Arthur rolled his eyes. 

“A rose for my rose,” The demon cooed, tucking the flower behind Arthur’s ear. Arthur made all the appropriate protests and indignant squawks, but ultimately he didn’t take it out. He supposed he could humor Alfred, just for a bit. He liked flowers, after all. 

The two of them didn’t ride in the car with Matthew and Gilbert, but they did fly overhead. Gilbert was true to his word and drove them straight to the local park. It was a beautiful evening- The lights strung in the trees were on, the fountain was bubbling, and the afternoon crowd was gone. A few people walked up and down the paths and enjoyed the park's amenities, and Arthur found the atmosphere overall quite cozy. 

“See? The world isn’t falling apart yet.” Alfred teased lightly, as they watched Matthew and Gilbert embark on one of the nature trails. “They’re just kids, let them live a little.” 

Sighing, Arthur watched as Matthew disappeared into the park’s adjoining forest. He...he wouldn’t go. He’d let Matthew have some privacy -the walks only took ten or fifteen minutes anyway, they weren’t long- he’d be back soon. He’d be back soon. Arthur took a deep breath, and he sat down on one of the benches, head in his hands.

“Arthur, you’ve gotta learn to relax.” Alfred sighed as he sat down next to him, rubbing the angel’s shoulders. “We’re not his parents- we just give him a little nudge.” He shot Arthur a crooked smile. “We’re like his really, really distant uncles. I’m the cool one with the motorcycle, and you’re the lame, strict one who went to Yale.” 

Arthur peeked at Alfred through his fingers, and couldn’t help but give a little laugh. “Well. At least I went to Yale.” 

“Yeah! And you know, you could have, if we were human. You’re definitely smart enough.” Alfred playfully elbowed his side, reaching over and gently prying Arthur’s hands away from his face. Arthur was smiling underneath them, and Alfred’s breath caught. His cheeks flushed red, just the slightest bit, but before he could say anything more, the chime of a bell seemed to catch his attention. 

Alfred turned, and Arthur looked over his shoulder to see what it was. An ice cream cart rolled along the path, and Alfred grinned, letting go of Arthur’s hands. “Oho! It’s our lucky day, Art. What flavor do you like?” He asked, already halfway to the little stand. Arthur didn’t even get the chance to think of what he wanted before Alfred came back with two chocolate scoops on cones, the ice cream man none the wiser. Though Arthur supposed he should probably scold Alfred for leaving in the middle of conversations or for conjuring things whenever he wanted, he couldn’t find it in him. It wasn’t hurting anyone, and, hell, chocolate was his favorite. 

They sat together, talking and joking around until Gilbert and Matthew appeared at the other end of the nature walk, holding hands and laughing. Arthur jumped to his feet, throwing the rest of his ice cream in the trash. “They’re back!” He said with glee, turning back to the demon. Alfred nodded. 

“They’re back.” He replied, seeming oddly disappointed. “On to the next stop, I guess.” 

Though Alfred’s reaction confused him, Arthur didn’t have the time to worry about it. He fluttered back to his charge and breathed a sigh of relief when Matthew seemed happy and unharmed. 

“He’s okay!” Arthur called as Alfred flew over. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t he be?”

Arthur just rolled his eyes, falling in step behind the humans on the way back to Gilbert’s car. He noticed that Alfred wasn’t really following as closely, and, to his great surprise, that...upset him. He turned to face him and waved him over. The attention seemed to cheer him up, at least a little. 

Gilbert did not take Matthew anywhere fancy for dinner. It wasn’t fast food at least- instead, it was a cheap diner that specialized in an all-day breakfast. It was...a good choice. Gilbert and Matthew settled down in a booth, as did Alfred and Arthur, though they settled down on the other side so that the others would have space. 

Alfred sat down in front of Arthur and slid him a stack of pancakes over the table, having nicked a copy from another booth. He smiled, lopsided. “Well? Have you changed your mind? They seem happy.”

Arthur cut into his stack, looking over the restaurant at his charge. “I..suppose they haven’t dropped out of school and gotten matching face tattoos. Perhaps Gilbert...wasn’t as bad as I thought he was.”

Alfred smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Of course he wasn’t. I wouldn’t let Matthew go out with him if he was. And..you know, Arthur..I’m not so bad, either. I know I’m a devil and all that, but I’m not trying to like, turn Matthew into a murderer or anything. I like the kid- I want what’s best for him. I just want him to have fun every once in a while, too. I want him to be able to loosen up.” Alfred gave Arthur a long look. “And he’s not the only one.”

Arthur paused, staring down at his food. His brow creased as he thought, his wings drooping. “Matthew...isn’t my first charge, you know. I’ve had other humans, before..the last one, she was a disaster.” He mumbled, glancing up at Alfred, who had leaned in to listen to him. 

“No matter what I did, she was cruel and mean-spirited. She was a bully and a cheat. She was manipulative and aggressive and...I still wanted what was best for her. I tried so, so hard.” His voice trailed off, softening into a whisper. Slowly, Alfred reached over the table and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Arthur didn’t pull away. 

“She died young. It was her own fault, really- she would often drink and drive, it’s just a relief she didn’t hurt anyone else when it finally caught up to her. But...I was a failure, Alfred. She was entrusted to me, I was supposed to make her into a good person, but I failed. She died alone, drunk and hated and it was my fault.” Tears dripped onto the cheap, yellowy wood of the tables, and only then Arthur realized he’d begun to cry. Alfred took a moment, to let the information sink in before he responded. 

“You know it isn’t your fault.” he sighed. “Deep down, I think you know. Sometimes people are just..like that. All we can do is try our best to help, but sometimes we get people who aren’t ever going to listen. You did everything you could, I know you did because you do now.” Smiling again, softer this time, Alfred laced their fingers together. “Seriously. You’re like a super-angel. I’ve never had to work this hard.” he chuckled, shaking his head. “She might have been determined not to accept help. She might have been awful, but Matthew isn’t. Look at him. He’s a good kid. You don’t have to worry about him.” 

Arthur gave a long sigh, looking over the restaurant at Matthew. He really was a good kid. Being kind was just in his nature- he wouldn’t fall down the moment Arthur removed his training wheels. He could..he could manage on his own, now.

“I...suppose you’re right. But..what do I do now, then? If I don’t have to watch him?”

Alfred leaned in a little more. “Let’s...back off.” He suggested, his thumb rubbing over Arthur’s knuckles. “We could kick back, watch Matthew grow up, get married, maybe have kids...our job is easy from here on out. Let’s just relax and let him be the good person he’s gonna be. And then, maybe we could start applying to jobs as a team instead of separately if you want to work together again. We could even hang out more, just us. More days like this, if you want. I’d..I’d really like that, personally.” Arthur met his eyes. Was Alfred blushing? 

“You had fun today,” His demon continued. “I know you did. We could have fun again.” 

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times, words escaping him. He wiped his eyes, then finally nodded. “Okay.”

Alfred beamed. 

When they left the diner and headed back to Gilbert’s car, Gilbert announced that he had a surprise third destination for Matthew. He probably wouldn’t be home until ten or eleven if he agreed to go, but Gilbert insisted that he’d have fun and that it wasn’t anything weird. Matthew eventually agreed, and hopped into the passenger side, pressing a little kiss to his date’s cheek.

Arthur stood in the parking lot as the car pulled out, Alfred standing beside him and holding on to his hand. 

“You’re sure you don’t wanna go? You don’t want to know what the surprise is?”

Arthur smiled, a bit sadly, and shook his head. “I’m okay. He’s smart, he’ll manage on his own.” 

Alfred stepped closer then and wrapped an arm around his angel’s waist. He pressed a kiss to his hair. “He will. You ready to go home?

Nodding, Arthur turned and walked with Alfred, the tail lights of Gilbert’s car fading away behind them. 

[tsarisfanfiction]

2020: A [Fandom] Summary

2020 was a pretty rotten year, let’s face it, so now I’m safely away from it for good I’m stealing something @gumnut-logic​ mentioned to me and summarising all the things I managed to make this year!  Let’s start 2021 on a nice positive note... look at all the things I managed to do in the world of fandom!

FANFICTION:

In 2020...

I published 69 works, 66 of which are complete - all for Thunderbirds Are Go

Which came to a total of 268,863 words (Tumblr-only scenes and short stories came to a further 29,764 words which put my grand total up to 298,627!)

My most popular fic on tumblr was Out Patience with 60 notes (wow!!)

My most kudos’d fic on AO3 was Bedtme (Should Not Be 4am) with 62 kudos!

My most favourited fic on FFN was Grounded with 13 favourites!

My longest fic was Long Way From Home, which is incomplete but on 30,902 words published so far (longest complete fic was Grounded on 21,100 words)

(I have not included Tales From The Heart as everything that was posted this year on my blog was written and archived on AO3/FFN in 2017-2019)

FANART:

In 2020...

I posted 12 completed drawings, across 6 fandoms (and across 3 blogs...) - Bleach, D.Gray-Man, Marchen Awakens Romance, Naruto, One Piece and Thunderbirds Are Go

My most popular was “Return of the Dragon” with 114 notes (over a hundred!!! How???)

In conclusion, Tsari has been one very busy bee this year!  Links to everything are below the cut if anyone’s looking for a refresher, or thinks they missed something!

And because I am only human and love validation - if you have a favourite thing I’ve written (or drawn) this year, tell me what it is!  Can just be the  name (although if you want to tell me why that would make my night, I can’t lie), I’d just love to know what people particularly loved :D

COMPLETED WORKS:

Phobos John looks at his brothers, and worries. Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  John, Scott Words: 1k; published January 2020

Treasured Family Scott’s day hadn’t gone well, and was about to get worse. John doesn’t care for that, and Alan makes a good accomplice.  Episode tag: 3.22 Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  John, Scott, Alan, Gordon Words: 2k; multichap - completed January 2020

Wax and Feathers Sometimes limits need to be broken. But a limit is there for a reason, and breaking them has consequences.  Episode tag: 3.20 Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  Scott, Gordon, Virgil Words: 4k; published February 2020

Hero They say you should never meet your heroes. Failure to comply may result in getting tongue-tied, or a failure of the brain to mouth filter.  Episode tag: 3.24 Rated: Gen/K.  Friendship.  Outsider PoV, Scott Words: 1k; published February 2020

Fall He’s not there, until he is.  Episode tag: 3.25 Rated: Teen.  Angst/Hurt/Comfort.  Scott, Jeff Words: 900; published February 2020

Bedtime (Should Not Be 4am) The first night home should be relaxing, but for Jeff it’s anything but as he readjusts to being back on Earth, and five sons who’ve grown up without him. Episode tag: 3.25/26 Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  Jeff, Gordon, Scott, John Words: 3k; published February 2020

Blank Slate Jeff finds that there’s one relationship he can build from scratch.  Episode tag: 3.25/26 Rated: Gen/K.  Friendship.  Jeff, The Mechanic Words: 1k; published February 2020

Apple Juice How hard is it to get a drink?  Harder when younger brothers insist on interfering. Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  Scott, Virgil, Tracy brothers Words: 1k; published February 2020

Firelight For Buddy and Ellie, camping is a beautiful way to live. Rated: Gen/K.  Romance.  Buddy, Ellie Words: 500; published March 2020

An Important Part John’s care packages sometimes contain a very special box. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  John, Tracy brothers Words: 1k; published March 2020 

Grape Juice or Wine A function that serves alcohol and a teenage brother. Just what Scott needed. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott, Alan Words: 700; published April 2020

Chess Master Gordon has a prized possession. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Gordon, John, Tracy brothers Words: 700; published April 2020

Heroes Made of Gas A spaceman and his stars. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  John, Jeff Words: 700; published April 2020

Caretaker Scott’s week from hell couldn’t just finish without throwing him a final twist. Rated: Gen/K+.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Scott, Tracy brothers Words: 1k; published April 2020

Riding the Dragon | Return of the Dragon Part 1: Scott was excited, and John was not, but who really got the last laugh? Part 2: Ten years later they’re back, and this time Alan’s up for the challenge. John isn’t about to let Scott forget about their last adventure, though. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott, John, Alan, Tracy brothers Words: 4k; multichap - completed April 2020

Fresh Air When the standard methods of dealing with Scott don’t work, Virgil has to resort to something a little more creative. Rated: Gen/K.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Virgil, Scott Words: 2k; published April 2020

Unexpected When it came to the next generation, Scott didn’t think it would happen quite like this. Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  Scott, John, Gordon, EOS Words: 1k; published April 2020

Awe The Shelbys were probably expecting a certain beautiful Lady when Gordon asked to bring a plus one, not an older brother. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, Gordon Words: 1k; published April 2020

Thrill Seeker “Launching a rocket into space most days not enough of an adrenaline kick for you, kid?” Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Alan, Grandma, John Words: 1k; published April 2020

The Tale of Scotty-Bear When Lee Taylor bought a bog-standard teddy bear for his best friend’s baby, he probably didn’t expect it to be quite so popular. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott, Tracy brothers Words: 1k; published April 2020

I Just Can’t Wait To Be Free When Scott gets stuck, Gordon’s the only one around - too bad he can’t stop laughing. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Gordon, Scott Words: 1k; published April 2020

Splatter Scott was going to regret leaving him to handle Gordon alone, especially when paint got involved. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, Gordon, Scott Words: 2k; published April 2020

Revenge (Should Be Piping Hot) The only aspect of his appearance Virgil cared about was his hair. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, Scott, Tracy brothers Words: 1k; published May 2020 

The Rules of Engagement Even acts of immaturity between brothers have to follow rules. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan Words: 1k; published May 2020

Night At The Opera Surely an invitation to the opera was better suited for Virgil? Or one of his other brothers? No? Okay, then. Wait, what do you mean he had to wear a suit? Rated: Gen/K+.  Friendship/Family.  Scott, Lady Penelope, Parker, Tracy family Words: 10k; published May 2020

Nothing See: Was space supposed to be this dark? A mission to rescue the crew of a freighter goes horribly wrong. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Angst.  Scott, Tracy Family Words: 8k; multichap - completed June 2020

Strays Her Ladyship collects strays. Rated: Gen/K.  Friendship.  Parker, Penelope, John, Gordon Words: 1k; published June 2020

Pulse Touch: Earthquakes suck. Badly. Especially when you’re still in an unstable building when the world crashes down. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Angst.  Scott, Gordon, Tracy Family Words: 11k; multichap - completed June 2020

Melt Smell: Snowy rescues are always the worst. Always. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Angst.  Scott, Virgil, Gordon, Tracy Family Words: 11k; multichap - completed June 2020

Silent Taste: They say you should ask for help when you need it, but what can you do except suffer in silence when asking for help will destroy your family? Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Angst.  Scott, Tracy Family Words: 12k; multichap - completed June 2020

Tremor Hear: Not everyone worships the ground International Rescue walk on. Rated: Mature.  Hurt/Comfort/Angst.  Scott, Hood, Tracy Family Words: 14k; multichap - completed July 2020

Hollow Sixth Sense: Two teenagers and a night hike in the middle of nowhere is a recipe for disaster. When trouble strikes the clock starts ticking, but there’s no International Rescue around to pull off a miracle. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Angst.  Scott, John, Jeff, Tracy Family Words: 11k; multichap - completed July 2020 

The Six Foot Club Outgrowing Gordon was an inevitability, but Alan hadn’t given much thought about the respective heights of his other brothers. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Alan, Virgil, Gordon Words: 800; published July 2020  

Out Patience There are three Tracys in the hospital and only one of them should be out of bed. Rated: Gen.  Family.  Alan, Scott, Virgil Words: 4k; published July 2020

Grounded Scott didn’t enjoy the trash mine rescue at all, but he enjoyed the consequences of it even less.  Episode tag: 3.22/23 Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Scott, Tracy Family Words: 21k; multichap - completed July 2020

Human Scott needs to stop taking his helmet off first chance he gets - one day, his luck will run out. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Gordon, Scott, Grandma Words: 4k; published August 2020

Not Alone John makes a miscalculation with unexpected consequences. Rated: Gen.  Family/Friendship.  John, Scott, EOS Words: 4k; published August 2020

Cracks Under The Surface History likes to repeat itself and the human brain likes to find patterns. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Scott, Jeff, Virgil Words: 4k; published August 2020

Divided, United Waking up bound in a dark room is never good news, but the absence of the brother he saw shot in front of him just makes it worse. Rated: Teen.  Angst/Hurt/Comfort.  Scott, Virgil, John Words: 6k; published August 2020

For A Brother When it came to protecting family, there were no limits. Rated: Teen.  Angst/Hurt/Comfort.  Virgil, Scott, Kayo, John Words: 7k; published August 2020

The Only Course of Action John’s job is to watch and listen, but sometimes he’s also the last resort. Rated: Teen.  Angst/Hurt/Comfort.  John, Scott Words: 4k; published August 2020

Noise Was that racket supposed to be blaring from their comms?  Alan hoped not. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Alan, Virgil, Tracy brothers, Kayo Words: 1k; published August 2020

His Collection The Hood knows what he wants, and will stop at nothing to get it.  International Rescue have other ideas. Rated: Teen.  Humour.  Hood, Scott, Virgil Words: 1k; published August 2020

3am A desire for water in the early hours of the morning leads Sally Tracy to a revelation. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Grandma, Scott, John Words: 600; published November 2020

Liminal After the rain comes the sun, but there’s a special moment in between. Rated: Gen/K.  Friendship.  Parker, Scott Words: 1k; published November 2020

One More Stuffed Toy The arcade is loud and chaotic, but John doesn’t care, because his brothers are with him. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  John, Tracy Brothers Words: 1k; published November 2020

After Sundown Scott didn’t let Alan help with the big things, but he didn’t say no to the small things. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Alan, Grandma, Scott Words: 1k; published November 2020

Same Old Song and Dance Dealing with a sick Scott was a challenge that Virgil had honed into an art. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, Scott Words: 1k; published November 2020

First Time It should be Dad, but it’s John instead and he wouldn’t change it for anything. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  John, Alan Words: 800; published November 2020

At The End of The Day After a long, tiring rescue, Virgil just wanted coffee, a shower, and his bed. Gordon had a better idea. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, Gordon, Scott Words: 1k; published November 2020

Deserving Who looked at the world and said “this deserves to be saved?”  A family of youngsters who’d lost too much already. Rated: Gen/K.  Family/Friendship.  Colonel Casey, Tracy Family Words: 800; published November 2020

His Sons Jeff had been gone eight years.  He’d missed his sons growing up into young men, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still the same boys he’d left behind. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Jeff, Tracy Brothers Words: 900; published November 2020

Faulty It was supposed to be a pleasant, quiet evening.  Then the multilingual tirade started in the kitchen. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, John, Tracy Brothers Words: 1k; published November 2020

Indescribable The sky is blue, the grass is green, Scott Tracy is a big brother. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott Words: 700; published November 2020

Simple Success Any success is worth celebrating, even if it isn’t one of the biggest, most impressive feats in IR history. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott, Tracy Family Words: 1k; published November 2020

It Calls Me Scott was born to fly. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott Words: 700; published November 2020

Words Not Said (But Still Heard) Gordon didn’t remember much about his time in the hospital, but he remembered the song. Rated: Gen/K.  Family/Hurt/Comfort.  Gordon, Scott Words: 1k; published November 2020

Unexpected, Not Unwanted It might not have been her intention to end up with five sons, but that didn’t mean she loved them any less. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Lucille, Tracy Family Words; 1k; published November 2020

Snap There was a whole mountain of paperwork, but a certain annoying younger brother refused to leave him in peace long enough for him to get it done. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Scott, Gordon Words: 1k; published November 2020

The Box In The Locker Reuniting families is one of the best feelings in the world, especially when one of the ‘family members’ is the child’s best friend. Rated: Gen/K.  Friendship.  Virgil Words: 800; published November 2020

Night Out Gordon learnt two things that night: Scott was an affectionate drunk, and sometimes people throw bar stools for no good reason. Rated: Teen.  Family.  Gordon, Scott Words: 2k; published November 2020

In Your Shadow “Tomorrow, they’re not gonna say ‘that’s Gordon Tracy, the Olympic Champion!’ Tomorrow, they’re gonna say ‘that’s Scott Tracy’s little brother!’, and I’m gonna say ‘damn straight I am.’” Rated: Gen/K+.  Family.  Gordon, Scott Words: 2k; published December 2020

The Sound of Thunder(birds) The sound of a Thunderbird should be a sound of hope and reassurance, but not everyone hears it that way. Rated: Gen/K.  Friendship.  Scott Words: 1k; published December 2020

Too Far It’s not normally Virgil that Scott has to pull up for misconduct.  Episode Tag: 3.06 Rated: Teen/K+.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Virgil, Scott Words: 2k; published December 2020

Steady Hands One boat. Two brothers. A life-or-death game of Jenga. Rated: Teen.  Family/Friendship.  Virgil, Gordon, Scott, Chaos Crew Words: 8k; published December 2020

Get Some Sleep, Scott There was no cure for self-destructive idiocy, but Virgil still had a trick - or rather, a last resort - up his sleeve when Scott went too far. It hadn’t failed him yet. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Virgil, Scott, Gordon Words: 1k; published December 2020

ONGOING WORKS:

Desert Sands On the way home from a rescue Thunderbird One and Scott disappear from Thunderbird Five’s sensors, leaving International Rescue scrambling to both discover what happened and find them. Rated: Teen.  Hurt/Comfort/Family.  Scott, John, Tracy Family Words: 13k; Chapters: 7/?; updated September 2020

Long Way From Home His brothers are missing. In their place is a family of strangers, the only explanation that makes any sense is beyond comprehension, and the only solution is impossible. Scott Tracy’s never been so far from home. Rated: Teen.  Family/Friendship.  Scott, Tracy Family Words: 30k; Chapters: 7/?; updated November 2020

Toffee Gordon is a lover of many things.  Toffee is not one of them. Rated: Gen/K.  Family.  Gordon, John, Grandma, Scott Words: 8k; Chapters: 4; updated November 2020

TUMBLR-EXCLUSIVE WORKS:

Dream A FabFiveFeb2020 ficlet using the prompts Scott+Dream Characters: Scott - February 2020

Short Snippet An abandoned wip with implied character death Characters: Gordon, Scott - April 2020

Heavy Metal  A short ficlet inspired by the episode of the same name. Characters: Alan, Scott - April 2020

Random Scene   A short scene with dark!John and EOS Characters: Jeff, John, EOS - May 2020

Random Scene   A Thunderbirds/Detective Conan potential idea Characters: Gordon, John, Scott - May 2020

Random Scene   A Thunderbirds/Percy Jackson potential AU Characters: Percy, Gordon - May 2020

Random Prologue  Where Scott ends up in jail for murder Characters: Col. Casey, Scott - July 2020

WIP #46 Scott gets caught in an avalanche. Characters: Virgil, Scott, John, Grandma - November 2020

WIP #47 Scott gets caught in a serious plane crash. Characters: Gordon, Scott, Virgil, Alan, John, Col. Casey - November 2020

WIP #48  The original, and terrible, version of my published work Grape Juice or Wine. Characters: Alan, Tracy Brothers - November 2020

WIP #55   A post-series fic focusing on the aftermath of Jeff’s return home Characters: Jeff, Gordon, Grandma - November 2020

WIP #56  A sequel to my published work Hero. Characters: Neil (OC), Henry, Bee, Scott - November 2020

WIP #59a |  WIP #59b |  WIP #59c  A squabble between brothers results in a whole pile of angst. Characters: Scott, Alan, John, Gordon, Virgil - November 2020

That One Scene | That One Scene #2  Two scenes from a movie rewrite Characters: Jeff, Hood, Scott, Gordon, Virgil, Alan, John - November 2020

Is- Is That My Blood? Scott’s trapped in a cave-in, and there’s too much blood Characters: Scott - November 2020

Random Scene  AU Crime drama-esque scene with canonical character death Characters: Grandma, Scott - December 2020

Random Prologue Where Scott is Not Okay and just wants to go home Characters: Virgil, Scott - December 2020

Crack When a storm gets too intense for Thunderbird One to fly, Scott has to hunker down and wait it out. Characters: Scott - December 2020

Holey Scott There is a hole in Scott where there shouldn’t be Characters: Virgil, Scott - December 2020

FANART:

Dragon!TB1 A dragonified drawing of Thunderbird One, based on a Flight Rising fandragon - January 2020

Return of the Dragon A snapshot moment from my fic of the same name - July 2020

Night Out A snapshot moment from my fic of the same name - November 2020

The Missing Hair Gel An imagining of Scott without any hair gel - December 2020

Six Boys, Six Fandoms A collection of six drawings of six favourite boys from six favourite series! - December 2020

Dragon!TB2 A dragonified drawing of Thunderbird Two, based on a Flight Rising fandragon - December 2020

[werevulvi]

I'm starting to slowly understand that this de-transition I'm doing will probably always be pretty rough on me. I'm re-watching "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" for the millionth time. I guess, for being about a hyper-feminine, conventionally attractive girl, it's pretty empowering. And Giles is definitely my favourite, British dork. Buffy is empowering because she really doesn't need anyone to help her out, except when she wants help. She's the furthest thing from a helpless damsel in distress, but she's also vulnerable and in many ways, like any other teenage girl.

I guess I can relate to that, on the level of depths I rarely swim in. Except in reverse. Like I look really masculine, male, and very different from other women, but on the inside I'm still vulnerable, and understanding the world from having been socialised female, like I guess most women are, to various degrees. And I guess I'm holding onto that. Sometimes too much. Sometimes... even to my detriment.

But when your womanhood is almost literally hanging by a thread, and you treasure it... it's easy to clutch too damn hard at it, as if your life somehow depended on that grip. And I guess that's how Buffy got me thinking, really a lot. Thoughts that have been passing through my mind for a while now, finally stuck around long enough for me to grasp.

It feels like there's just no ideal solution for me. I'm still generally at a pretty good place with my gender and presentation now. There's nothing I really wanna change, except from going back on testosterone. But how satisfied am I really? That's the difficult question. I get these moments here and there, when I get... you know, sad. I guess I get jealous of women who still look like women. Like Buffy, and all those other female characters that I relate to (all three of them, lol.) Their ability to blend into society as one of the females. That which I once used to take for granted, and barely even was aware of, and did not even like.

As a teen and throughout most of my 20's, I didn't like the idea of "blending in" or looking "normal" as I saw that as equal to disappearing and becoming insignificant. I liked standing out, to look like a someone, instead of a no one. But for the past couple of years? Not so much. I don't have that same mindset anymore. Now I understand that when people don't pay attention to what I look like... they finally notice my personality. And I really like that. I feel no need to have an alternative style for the sake of expressing myself anymore, although I'm still drawn to tattoos and piercings. If anything, it rather hinders people from truly listening to me, because they're too busy judging my appearance!

Whether I stand out now or not, well... I do have kind of a choice over. Just not so much in my favour. Or well, it is, but at the same time not. I can blend in among men as a "normal" looking guy, which takes no effort and has become my go-to, but I can never do that as a woman. I mean, I'm not just recognised as a woman who is ugly or looks weird, or "too" masculine. I'm not recognised as a woman at all.

And yeah, sure, I'm fine with that. Not a big deal.

But sometimes I still mourn the loss of my ability to be seen as a woman, and not look like trash while doing it. Sometimes... I can't help but struggling to look at myself. It just gets so raw sometimes, and I feel ugly. Society's beauty standards still has a certain choke hold on me. I can't break free from that over night. Especially since I was a makeup addict for a really long time and only just recently stopped wearing makeup altogether. Especially since I struggled with an eating disorder, which I only just recovered from a few years ago. Especially since I previously used sex with men as a way to seek value and worth, but found the opposite, yet still crave that harmful lifestyle. I'm barely a stone's throw away from being the slave of femininity I once was. Perhaps transitioning was my unconscious way of attempting to break free from it. Yes, I think there could be some truth to that. I revel in my masculinity now, but the wounds femininity caused in me, still hurt. It took me about this long to even understand their existence.

My mind still makes these connections, that by "woman standards" I look... absolutely hideous. Bearded, balding, scars for tits, hair all over my body. Yeah, great. I feel disfigured. Like some kind of abomination. I'm just gonna have to live with that knowledge, and what it does to me.

Because sometimes I get lost in what I think other people must think I look like, as soon as I tell them I'm actually a woman. I've gotten looks of disgust from that, and I guess I just haven't quite figured out how to handle that sorta thing yet.

I know that every time I've tried to "present as female" again, I've regretted it and felt absolutely horrible. On one hand it's tragic, because societal beauty standards still make me break down over my appearance sometimes, in desperate attempts to make myself look beautiful again... and that's when I feel the claws of femininity scratching me up from within, all over again. That endless chase for unobtainable, so called "beauty" and the failure that's bound to follow. And I guess it's a little bit sad, that I think I look a lot hotter as a man, than I ever even could as a girl or woman, and that could be part of why I hold onto my male-like appearance as a comfort in my newfound masculinity.

But is that so bad?

This harsh weather of self-discovery demands a comfort blanket. But on the other hand, most days I actually feel great about the way I look, and I can even manage to still feel good about the way I look when I see myself as a woman. That is great progress!

I'm actually starting to be able to connect my womanhood with my masculinity, and when I do, I feel great. That's my "good days" and I have a lot more of them than those "bad days" when I feel disfigured. Because that feeling is relative, not objective. It's relative, not only to social gender norms for men and women respectively, but also to my own inner norms of my own gender, which are highly influenced by the norms of the society I live and grew up in. And I've noticed I actually have the power to adjust that broken compass within me that struggles to connect my appearance with my mind.

I think my dysphoria broke quite badly, when I started poking around in it. I mean, not only do I get envious of other women (who have not transitioned) but as soon as I present as female, I instead get jealous of men again, and feel even worse about the way I look! It's a catch 22!

I do not know what my tired, dysphoric heart craves, or if any physical change would really help me feel better. I still regret my top surgery, but no kinds of reconstructed boobs would be able to fill that empty void. Because it's not nearly as much physical as it is psychological. It's missing and grieving something very specific, which cannot ever return. And that too... I just have to live with.

However, I'm again trying out wearing fake boobs. Small sock tits in sports bras. As often as my deformed ribs can handle. It quickly gets very painful in the dents I caused by binding pre-op. I ordered some oversized sports bras and gel insertions, that I'm impatiently waiting for to arrive! In the mean time I try to make do with what I have, which is too small and too tight, but for an hour here and there, is alright. I feel good with the illusion of small boobs, something like barely a B-cup at most. It feels more like my body when it's not board flat, and it makes me feel better about being curvy as well. Otherwise I still wear the same men's clothes I'd usually wear. Flannels, jeans, hoodies, suits, etc. That's perfect. It feels a lot like me.

I really should have left my chest be. But I didn't. And that's okay. I'll manage.

I reach out to testosterone again for comfort. Familiar comfort that always made me feel better, and badass. I know it won't take my pain away. But honestly, that's okay. I actually want to keep my pain, anyway. Because it helps me heal and feel stronger again. I don't like being in pain, but I feel like it's rebuilding me, strengthening me from within, and forces me to re-think what's not working. Pain is my guide to comfort. That fire in my ass that keeps me moving.

So yeah, I'll live.

I'll keep breaking down sometimes, and feel like I made myself into the ugliest woman on Earth, but even that, I can draw some kinda power from. Being proudly ugly is definitely something I can do! And then I feel untouchable. When I remind myself that my "ugliness" is not only entirely subjective, but also... entirely deliberate. That I choose to not try to salvage my thinning head hair, because I do not need it. That I choose to let my beard grow out, because it brings me comfort. That I choose to keep my chest flat, despite all my difficult feelings I have about it, because it allows me to go topless and braless. And so on.

My deliberate ugliness, worn with pride and survival... I'd say is quite beautiful. That's what keeps me going. Dated: January 7th, 2021.

[adz]

hi here is my albums of the year list for 2019. i will also put it below under the break. happy nu year friends

ALBUMS I LOVED

Big Thief - U.F.O.F. & Two Hands This band has something so special. It's almost as enjoyable to hear Lenker, the primary songwriter, talk about her philosophy and her connection to her bandmates as it is to listen to their consistently wonderful and gently boundary-pushing music. I've combined these two albums into one list item because they're flip sides of the same coin: spirit and earth, ethereal and corporeal, unknown and known. If you've heard their earlier two albums, you might be put off a little: there aren't any smash hits like Masterpiece on here, nor any doomed ballads like Shark Smile. These albums are a little blurrier, shadows and gleaming bits of light floating past. At times the songs sound less like early Big Thief than they do Adrianne's solo releases: lyric focused, strange sprawling structures, a bit rougher around the edges. At these records' cores, though, the soul is the same true soul. On U.F.O.F., there are sadness-tinged love songs like Orange and an ode to a dead relationship or dead loved one, Terminal Paradise, recut from Adrienne's solo discography. On Two Hands, rollicking rockers like Forgotten Eyes and the titular track nestle up against the tender and painful Wolf and a live staple for the band, Not, a song that builds momentum and tumbles towards its conclusion like a meteor. Whether you're a devoted fan (and I don't know anyone who listens to Big Thief but doesn't consider themselves one) or a newcomer, it's worthwhile to spend some time close to these records. Let them, and they'll grow on you.

Kim Petras - TURN OFF THE LIGHT Easily the best collection of club pop songs this year began as a Halloween-themed mixtape, which I think gives it a willingness to experiment that I sometimes miss in Petras's more standard stuff. The hooks on tracks like There Will Be Blood, Close Your Eyes, and Tell Me It's a Nightmare are as good as anything in her discography, and the most adventurous moments, like the interlude o m e n and the German verse in In the Next Life, not only pay off but fuck harder than basically anything I've ever heard. I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Dr. Luke was one of this record's producers. The fact that he gets a cut of every stream and sale is a terrible blemish on what would otherwise be a huge favorite of mine.

Sufjan Stevens & Timo Andres - The Decalogue A forceful, sometimes opaque album. Delicate and opinionated piano music for ballet. One moment of particular transcendent beauty: the track V.

Weyes Blood - Titanic Rising A 10/10, perfect, totally wonderful album. A ton of variety and not a single bad song. By turns upbeat, dreamy, contemplative, creepy, explosive. One of the most beautiful and evocative album covers of the year to boot.

Andrew Bird - My Finest Work Yet I appreciate Andrew Bird's esoteric trips and darkly introspective weirdness, so it surprised me how much I enjoyed this: a bouncy, ascerbic, and delightful return to form packed with ironic turns of phrase and endlessly engrossing little musical details. Bloodless is a legit political statement, a State of the Union address that is somehow equal parts ominous and encouraging. Sisyphus is freewheeling and also political, a common thread here. My favorite is Manifest, a disco-inflected ode to fossil fuels. You could blast it and joyfully sing along without ever realizing how apocalyptic it is.

Nivhek - After its own death / Walking in a spiral towards the house Moody, spacious, and minimalist. Lovely and meditative.

M83 - DSVII A world all of its own. Cinematic, strange, and cheesy. I really appreciate M83's willingness to do absolutely whatever they want when they could easily have made a career pandering to fans of Midnight City and selling songs to car companies. DSVII is spacious and upbeat, steeped in the memory of 70s space western epics. Flutes, pianos, and shimmering picked guitars float over crashing post-rock drums and synths ranging from contemplative sweeps (Mirage) and buzzing pads (Colonies) to swelling vox (Taifun Glory) and precise, retro little bleeps (Oh Yes You're There, Everyday). It's wonderful background music, and the choice tracks (Temple of Sorrow, Mirage, Hell Riders) are great fun and even occasionally thrilling. This album is easy to love.

Thom Yorke - Anima Detuned synths lying motionless in a cold desert fading in and out of life

Foxes in Fiction - Trillium Killer A swirling dream-pop masterpiece. I had the privilege of seeing Warren perform some of these songs earlier this year, and I felt totally transported, like I was physically present in the green holographic world of his back-stage projections. These songs are complex and really special, crafted with care and an ear highly attuned to odd harmonies and little additive details. I love the way stories and thoughts weave together across the album. The catchy, gently swelling music is a brilliant compliment for the lyrics, which are often dark and intense, blurring the political and personal on songs like Say Yes to Violence and Antibody. Aesthetically, this album is a delight, but there's so much depth beneath its glimmering surface. What a wonderful addition to Foxes in Fiction's powerful and lovely discography.

Xiu Xiu - Girl with Basket of Fruit Xiu Xiu always makes me smile. This album is dense and abrasive and very lyrics-forward. Jamie Stewart sounds fucking pissed and I love it. The beats are quick and unrelenting: samples of Haitian drummers led by musician Daniel Brevil. I also can't get over the fact that Angela Seo published her favorite and least favorite lyrics from each song. Jamie wrote this about the record's title, which references Caravaggio's painting Boy with a Basket of Fruit: "When this title is a boy it is fey and lovely. When it is a girl is worrisome and rife with danger. Male martyrs are almost always surrounded by nurses, their mothers, adoring angels and other loving disciples wrapping their crushed and holy bodies in strips of herb soaked cloth and weeping rapturously. Female martyrs are almost always depicted having their skin flayed, breasts branded or ripped off with tongs or being stabbed and they are always, always alone save for her murderers. There is never anyone by their sides celebrating their spiritual life, only fiendishly reveling in their torture of her. It is perilous to be a 'girl.'"

Bats - Alter Nature I was shocked to find out these guys have been around for 10 years. This sounds like an album by a young band, which I mean as a compliment: it's energetic and rough and a little uneven in parts in ways that I enjoy. The sound is either especially intense but poppy post-punk or kind of gentle hardcore. I think there's a lot of crossover potential between those two fan bases here. Their attitude is what I love more than anything else. I don't know how to describe it exactly. It feels like the band are willing to go to weird, sarcastic places and then quickly snap back to sincerity and brutality, often multiple times in one song. I'm not much of a hardcore fan, but I almost wish they'd spent a little more time with that sound: my favorite parts on this record are the heavier bits like the end of Current Affairs.

Olivia Neutron-John - Olivia Neutron-John This album sounds like if you trapped a musique concrete artist in a timeless hell with a couple drum machines and synths for a millenium and then poked a hole in the wall and recorded what came out. Really fun and uncomfortable. I do still think the best format to experience ONJ is in her like 20-minute rambling dance tracks, like 2017's Injury Train.

Liturgy - H.A.Q.Q. A lot of people really despise Liturgy, and if that's the case for you, this album probably won't change your mind, but for what it's worth, it's a little more accessible than their synth-horn-heavy black metal midi extravaganza of a previous album The Ark Work. H.A.Q.Q. does contain weird, tonally distinct interludes (the EXACO trio of tracks) between its transcendental metal pillars, but they're the rare interludes that go beyond merely cleansing the palette and setting the mood for whatever follows. EXACT III especially is a bright and emotionally complete unit. What we're really here for is the metal, though, and this album delivers like nothing Liturgy has released before. Composer/singer/guitarist Hendrix's melodies are unique and beautiful, the riffs and blastbeats are tight, and the stuttering glitches that break up dense passages are welcome even when they're really surprising. HAJJ, PASAQALIA, GOD OF LOVE, and HAQQ are all monster tracks, but the whole album is well worth your time. The lead single, GOD OF LOVE, is a great place to start. This is definitely, easily my favorite black metal album of all time, and probably my favorite metal album full stop.

Blood Orange - Angel's Pulse Dev Hynes' mixtape is by turns propulsive and relaxing, softspoken and hardheaded. It's brilliant and beautiful and although it's not too long, each song is given ample room to breathe. I wish other artists were as effective at utilizing guest artists (some tracks here have three guests, and Hynes is able to manage their time well enough that there's no feeling of bloatedness or a lack of cohesion). I love this album. It might be my favorite thing Hynes has ever done. Listen to: Take It Back, Berlin, Dark & Handsome

Toro y Moi - Outer Peace Chaz's album Boo Boo was one of my favorite albums of 2017, but because it wasn't chillwave enough or whatever, people didn't seem to give it a fair shake. That seems to be the case with Outer Peace, too: it's less of a single unit than Boo Boo and contains more danceable content, but it's a little too moody and eccentric to win over fans of Anything In Return, Chaz's basically perfect 2013 opus. (As a side note, his mixtape Soul Trash, which also came out this year, is good fun too.) Anyway, Outer Peace feels kind of like a more accessible extension of Boo Boo. Parts of it still feel like a deranged early-morning exercise program on college radio, which I like. Try some of the lighter stuff first: Fading, Ordinary Pleasure, and Freelance.

Opium Lord - Vore No genre has better subgenre descriptors than metal. This is a black sludge album, and that's pretty much all you need to know.

Mid-Air Thief - Crumbling Okay so this album technically came out in 2018, but it had a wide release this year on Topshelf Records with like four different wax colors, and also I only found out about it early this year, and I need to spread the word about one of the most delightful, fun, and beautiful albums I've ever heard. On Crumbling, organic strums and synthetic trills form a deeply engaging tapestry. I love every second of it. Combining sounds in this way totally qualifies as left-field experimental shit just because It Seems Like Nobody Else Is Doing It For Some Reason (except I guess Floating Points, see SOTY), but the music itself is actually really accessible. This is what pop music should sound like! We have the technology!! Please listen to this album. Dirt and Gameun Deut are my favorites at the moment, but you honestly can't go wrong.

Angel Olsen - All Mirrors Olsen's gotten grander. Her ballads are longer and involve strings and synthesizers and beat machines. The soul feels the same to me, though. Songs like the title track are powerful and emotive and showcase not just her vocal range but a new range of sonic experimentation that I think complements her songwriting really well. For those who aren't on board with the 7-minute ballads, there are also more lighthearted tracks like Too Easy and Spring. I knew that Chance reminded me of a specific song, but I couldn’t think of the name until I read something by a person named Grimelords about how it’s like her version of Sinatra's My Way. That’s exactly what it’s like.

Girl Band - The Talkies Shoulderblades is an ugly, mammoth, multi-part story. Brilliant genreless repetition like in album opener Prolix and at the end of Couch Combover. Amygdela sounds like if early Preoccupations was fronted by someone undergoing torture whilst also muttering at their withdrawal hallucinations. The vibe here is complex. It's a very consistent album, but the collection of sounds and attitudes is really unusual. Caveat is a great example: a simple beat and twitching synth line turns into a lumbering mess of distortion-and back again, whenever it decides to-at will.

0 Stars - Blowing on a Marshmallow in Perpetuity Timid singing, odd titles, and every-instrument-in-the-room textures on this album belie depth and a very warm heart. "even though my dog barked at a baby, i won't tell her 'no' cause that's just the way she deals with being scared and sometimes i get scared too, and it's bad enough without the shame when i mess things up and you don't come over, i go to the kitchen and eat leftovers just because i'm sad doesn't mean it is fair to depend on you when you're sad too"

(Sandy) Alex G - House of Sugar With Gretel—the best song of the year—as its lead single, House of Sugar set an impossibly high expectation. Although Gretel is certainly a high point on the album, there are many more: Hope is inconspicuous but beautiful, honest, and cathartic, SugarHouse is a devastating jam, and Southern Sky whirls comfortingly from a rose-tinted verse into a chorus supposedly inspired by a dream and tinged with sadness. All but one of these songs are under 4 minutes long, but they're packed with conflict between abstract and concrete lyrics, beauty and strangeness. It's Alex G, so don't be surprised by the unexpected and often outright weird electronic flourishes and transitions throughout the record, but if you can handle its irregularities, this is easily one of the most fresh-sounding and enjoyable albums of the year.

Emily Reo - Only You Can See It A bright, fun, and beautiful album full of bouyant vocals and strange twists and turns. Although I deeply love the poppy stuff here (like the anthemic single Strawberry), my faves are the slower, darker, vaguely occultish songs: Ghosting, Counterspell (a shimmering sequel to 2016's Spell, one of the best songs of the year), and In Theaters, which is one of those songs that builds and builds and then has the most satisfying payoff. It might be my favorite ending of any album this year. I hope you check this one out. Emily is the coolest and this album rocks.

Chromatics - Closer To Grey Of course this came out in October. Chromatics is the only band that is allowed to use canned vinyl hiss. The first song on this record is a Sound of Silence cover and it is amazing.

Mizmor - Cairn I try to approach new music without giving too much thought to the circumstances of its creation, but something about the idea of a mythical lone individual painstakingly crafting beautiful layered music appeals to me, whether it's Phil Elverum of Mt. Eerie, Sufjan Stevens, or this: Mizmor, some dude from Portland, OR making sick, dense black metal. Cairn is a slow, doomy, cinematic album, and maybe these qualities make it easier to notice the incredible attention to detail on individual riffs or little instrumental passages. My favorites were Cairn to God and The Narrowing Way

Laura Agnusdei - Laurisilva Lounge music from hell. Twin Peaks-y saxophone glides over squishy synthetic beats. Lungs Dance sounds like a block of jello having a nightmare. In all seriousness, this is an ingenious and very unique album and I enjoy it a lot. A lot of music I listened to this year attempted to merge organic and synthetic sound in a way that emphasises their similarities. Here, synthetic sounds and recognizable voices/samples/sax & flute riffs are juxtaposed, and the rift is never bridged. And it's weirdly comfortable. This is the most acidic of acid jazz. And honestly, I just really like how wet the synths sound.

~~~~~

SONGS I LOVED (singles for albums that i think outshone the album OR songs that were released not as part of an album OR just songs i heard and enjoyed. this will hopefully prevent me from including an album i don't actually love just because i really dug one song on it)

Arthur Russell - You Did It Yourself Iowa Dream is a great collection of Russell's more accessible unreleased work. You Did It Yourself in particular is such a perfectly weird, groovy almost-pop song, a reminder that Russell was as talented a writer of hooks as he was a mastermind of electroacoustic experimentation. To explore his other side, check out another of his posthumous releases from this year, Not Checking Up.

MGMT - In The Afternoon A gothic post-punk masterpiece that sort of follows from their excellent 2018 album Little Dark Age. This is MGMT's best era ever. My most-anticipated-2020 list is basically MGMT and Owen Pallett's Island. And probably one or two more Big Thief records.

Floating Points - Falaise Floating Points' 2019 album Crush consists mostly of Aphex-Twin-y glitch-beat tracks that occasionally push towards something really interesting and unique. It's a great album, but the organic instruments on opener Falaise set you up brilliantly for an organosynthetic payoff that never arrives.

Honey by Drugdealer/Weyes Blood okay, Lonely on the same album is fun, if a little silly. Lost In My Dream is also totally decent, and Fools is kind of a bop... actually, this whole album, while not totally my cup of tea, is great. If you like 70's-disco-inflected (like, Bee Gees) retro rock, sweet vocal harmonies and guitar licks, and a few indulgences (like saxophone), you'll totally dig this record. I'm gonna spend some more time with it. Honey fucks especially though imo

Everything All at Once - G Jones Something about this song just scratches an itch in my brain. The rest of this album is basically dubstep, and it all sandwiches this one beautiful little song. Better not to question life's gifts.

Perfume Genius - Eye in the Wall Sandunes & Landslands - Eleven Eleven James Blake - Barefoot In The Dark new grimes unfortunately Deafheaven - Black Brick

~~~~~

Honorable Mentions/stuff i like but other people would probably love

Kim Gordon - No Home Record An experimental (but comfortably modern) record by the 66-yr-old Gordon, best known as a multi-instrumentalist/vocalist in Sonic Youth, a band I occasionally appreciate but can't say I love. Parts of No Home Record are noise rock-y, like Murdered Out, and others totally defy comprehension: Paprika Pony seems to have the most buzz surrounding it, which makes sense since it features both a kalimba and a trap beat. Really not a resting-on-laurels type of album. I wish more iconic older musicians made shit like this.

Pharmakon - Devour The rare album that makes me forget about my tinnitus. A dense cloud of distortion and sharply biting microscopic needle creatures that settle around your shoulders and block out all light. Fucking awesome. Listen if you enjoy oppressive painfully pulsing sound textures of industrial noise blanketing completely incoherent screaming.

clipping. - There Existed an Addiction to Blood This is a tough one for me because there are things about this album I can't stand, but many more things I absolutely love. The inventiveness of the production on Run for Your Life, Daveed's absurdly skilled delivery on Blood of the Fang, the harsh noise and musique concrete combining delightfully with rap on songs like La Mala Ordina; all of this is extremely exciting. I really love the last track Piano Burning, an 18-minute recording of, yes, a piano burning. The thing is, clipping.'s lyrical content is more or less the same here as on 2013's Midcity mixtape. It's ultra-violent, filled with graphic descriptions of gang violence and torture, which is fine, but just not something I'm that interested in listening to more than once or twice. They've branched out elsewhere (on their previous album, Splendor & Misery, and on the recent EP The Deep), but to me, it's unfortunate that this super cool and thoughtful album is lyrically (at least, on the surface) just a collection of descriptions of people being murdered. I don't really have any interest in reading more into it than that, because I regret pretty much every time I try to pay close attention, either because it's gross and boring or because it's embarrassing (The Show, for example). I want to emphasize that as horrorcore goes, the writing here is mostly very good. The rhyme patterns like at the beginning of Story 7 are genius. It's just not for me, I guess. I'm gonna keep listening to a few songs, though: Nothing is Safe, La Mala Ordina, Run for Your Life, and Blood of the Fang are excellent.

Field Whispers - Fire-Toolz The Warm-Body is a great song. Hyphen- (and parenthesis-) heavy vapor/pc music/new age/ambient jazzy synth stuff. really nice.

Caroline Polachek - Pang every r/indieheads dude: i like slide guitar now probably the best vocal performance of any album I heard this year, Polachek is just ludicrously good. listen to Insomnia

Danny Brown - uknowhatimsayin¿ When most artists release an album of outsized acclaim, you can with some certainty expect them to mimic its acclaimed qualities later on in an attempt to reach the same level of success. Danny Brown is not most artists, though, and no one who knows him would count on a retreading of the ground covered in Atrocity Exhibition, Danny's nearly perfect 2016 album. uknowhatimsayin¿ is more lighthearted and, I think, a little less ambitious (it's 13 minutes shorter, with more consistent track lengths; there's no "Really Doe"), but not to its detriment. The features are less head-turning than AE (up-and-comers JPEGMAFIA and Obongjayer, the understated genius Blood Orange, and Run the Jewels, the most overrated act in hip hop), but they all fit in neatly. Tracks like Belly of The Beast and Negro Spiritual prove Danny could still rap over a washing machine or musique concrete or fucking whatever. The lyrics are less dense, the beats less experimental and strange, but the lighter energy is kind of nice. Atrocity Exhibition could've lost three or four tracks, but this album feels juuuust right.

HTRK - Over the Rainbow Soft, ambient, moody. Reminds me of William Basinski's Watermusic II, but this album is less repetitive and a little less weird. It's background music for people who hate background music. It's delightful and ignorable. Very nice.

Blarf - Cease & Desist Shockingly decent plunderphonics/noise album from Eric Andre, who it must be pointed out attended one of the most prestigious music colleges in the world.

Ryan Lott - Pentaptych Beautiful, prickly modernist string compositions.

Cereal Killer - The Beginning & End of Cereal Killer Empath - Active Listening: Night on Earth Ithaca - The Language of Injury Mannequin Pussy - Patience Swan's Chamber - Swan's Chamber Avey Tare - Cows on Hourglass Pond Men I Trust - Oncle Jazz Charli XCX - Charli Black Midi - Schlagenheim Michael Kiwanuka - Kiwanuka Methyl Ethyl - Triage Bill Callahan - Shepherd in a Sheepskin Vest Better Oblivion Community Center - Better Oblivion Community Center Twin Peaks - Lookout Low Holly Herndon - Proto Laurel Halo - DJ-Kicks Earl Sweatshirt - Feet of Clay Nihiloxica - Biiri Wet Fruit - Wet Fruit

Best mix: Night Bus 4: Memory of Night Bus by CFCF When Hyperballad hits, you will understand. http://www.gorillavsbear.net/cfcf-drops-night-bus-4-memory-of-night-bus

Best album name:

Gross Net - Gross Net Means Gross Net.

Answers my foremost question immediately.~~~~~

A halfhearted AOTD list, in order this time

1-The Age of Adz

2-Heartland

3-Entrañas

4-The Money Store

5-Channel Orange

6-Planetarium

7-Ontario Gothic

8-Konoyo+Anoyo (this is cheating but whatever)

9-Carrie & Lowell + Greatest Gift (also cheating idc)

10-My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

thanks for reading. the world is abundant.

[runninveggie-blog]

Perinatal mood and anxiety disorder

I want to start by stating that I am not a blogger. AT. ALL. In fact, I hate to write. When I was in school, I’d much rather take a test or do a project for a grade then write a paper. I can’t spell, my grammar is not great, I don’t always know how to punctuate properly...But I think it is important for me to be as open as possible about what I’m going through right now in my life. So ( large sigh) here goes. Please don’t judge me.

For the second time in my life, I am suffering from postpartum depression (PPD). It is classified as a perinatal mood and anxiety disorder (PMADs). According to the Mayo Clinic, PMADs are the number one complication of pregnancy and childbirth. Every 1 in 9 moms will suffer from some sort of PMAD during pregnancy or after childbirth. That’s a HUGE number! But for some reason, it still isn’t talked about ENOUGH. Yes, we as culture, talk about it more than we did 10 years ago, but for some reason for women, we feel like we’re not allowed to be sad. THAT MAKES THINGS WORSE! There have been many times that I’ve thought “I’d better smile and act like I’m happy so people don’t think I’m crazy and try to take my kids away from me.” I mean, how irrational is that?!?! Very....very irrational. 

“I SHOULD BE HAPPY, I HAVE EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED”  JESSIE BRUSH, 2019

Right after I had my son, Jack, who is now 3, I suffered from PPD and PPA (postpartum anxiety). I bonded with him when I was pregnant so intensely that I didn’t want anyone to hold him, or look at him, or touch him. I needed to be the sole caregiver of this child. Additionally, my labor and delivery were terrible with him. 25 hours of labor with 3 hours of pushing.... I truly didn’t think I could do it.  I also had very high standards that he was going to be entirely breastfed (EFB). And for 3 weeks, he was....and for those three weeks, I was unsuccessful. And frankly, because I was such a failure, I wanted to die. It sounds harsh and extreme, but that is exactly how I felt. But death terrifies me, so I kept moving on. And I was miserable. Nothing brought me joy anymore. There are parts of his very young life that I don’t remember because it was too painful. I felt like I was failing and he didn’t need me since he could be fed with formula. I had hallucinations. I pictured myself driving off a VERY large bridge in my area, and one day I drove over to this bridge. Thank GOD I didn’t do anything because I would have missed out on so much joy and happiness. But at the time, I didn’t think I would ever be happy again. I finally talked to my doctor and she put me on some medications. I also went to a councilor (once... I couldn’t bring myself to talk about...well myself....). After a few months, I started to really get better and move past the sadness.

Fast forwards to pregnancy number 2. I suffered from depression almost my entire pregnancy, In my defense, I couldn’t eat. Like really....for a while there I was only able to drink water, and only if it had a REAL lemon in it, and strawberries 🍓 . Everything else made me throw up. I lost 20 pounds. I was mad about being so sick and I took it out on my unborn child. I didn’t feel like I loved them. And on top of that, we didn’t find out the gender, so I really didn’t feel like I could bond. Of course, I’m so happy now that we didn't’ find out the gender because hearing my husband tell me that we had a girl was one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had in my life. My labor and delivery with Juliet was awesome. 8 hours of labor and 30 minutes of pushing. It was WONDERFUL! And on top of that, I got her to latch and breastfeed right away. Everything seemed to be smooth sailing. I knew that with Juliet, I wasn’t going to go back to work full time so I didn’t feel the pressure of that on my shoulders. Our breastfeeding journey hasn’t been easy though. I’ve gotten mastitis 3 times. Mastitis is terrible. It’s a painful, infected, clogged milk duct. It makes you feel like you’ve got the flu if the flu was in crack. But anyways....She latched well, but she wasn’t getting enough food to make her gain weight. My milk had come in, but she couldn’t empty the breast for some reason and she was so fussy. We thought she had acid reflux, which Jack had so I didn’t question it, but even after we put her on medication for that, nothing changed. I started to look stuff up and came across tongue and lip tie information and symptoms of that. She had every single one. I asked my lactation consultant to check her for it and sure enough, she had both. They were both reversed and we got back on track. She’s still tiny, but MUCH better.....but here I am...and I’m not.

At about 4 months postpartum, I realized that I wasn’t happy. And not like just blue every now and then, but deeply unhappy. I thought about it and I also realized that I had cried every single day that week. I pushed it out of my head thinking that it had just been a hard week and everything was fine. Fast forward to about 2 weeks ago. I was driving my family to a wedding we were attending. Jacob was sleeping because he had worked the night before, Juliet was screaming (she was most likely hungry) and Jack was being Jack...I mean he’s 3 soooo he was being loud and not listening to me. A thought came to me, one that I don’t even want to repeat. But because I want to be fully honest with myself and others, I will “paraphrase” the thought. I thought about how my life would be so much easier with one child. And then I thought about how I would choose which child I’d keep. That’s really as far as I’m will to go with explaining that now, because right after and even right this very second, guilt washed over me. I thought “How can I call myself a mom if I’m having these horrific thoughts?” And at that moment, I wanted to die. Right then and there. I wanted my life to be over. I didn’t deserve these wonderful, amazing, beautiful children that I have been given to raise. I knew I couldn’t end my life right then because I wasn’t going to end my husband or children’s lives, but I knew I didn’t want to live anymore. So...heavy stuff...I may or may not be crying right now....ok so I am crying right now. Anyways, I had to pull myself together to attending this wedding and visit with family. I made it through that day without harming myself or my kids so I knew I could make it thought the rest of the weekend, which we were spending with my mom, dad, sister, and my sister’s girlfriend. 

We got home and I called my doctor that day. And you can ask my husband, I’ll go like 3 weeks of being deathly sick without calling my doctor. I didn’t call her last time I was suffering from PPD, I just talked to her at my 6 weeks follow up appointment....anyways, I digress. Once I got home, I started to think about everything, I was trying to remember the last time I truly felt happy and I couldn’t think of it. I thought about at the outburst and RAGE I had, the constant crying (because it wasn’t just that week before the wedding, it was all the time), the anxiety, the fear. I knew then that it was a lot worse than I had thought. I texted my “ladies” chat, which consists of my mom, grandmother, and sister, to let them know what was going on. I didn’t go into much detail about it because I didn’t want to scare them, but my mom knew. She called me and asked me what was going on. I’m grateful for that. It got me talking. It got me really thinking and it got me set in the right direction to help it. I also talked to my husband. I told him that thought I had about our kids, and you know what...he didn’t leave. He didn’t take out kids and run. No, he laid beside me in our bed and let me cry. He never once made me feel like an unfit mother. I’m also grateful for that. 

I’m trying HARD to find AT LEAST one positive thing to think about every day. It’s not easy when your brain is constantly telling you that you’re horrible and making you feel like total trash. And it's even more difficult on days like today when both kids are sick and you’re sleeping on the couch because your daughter can only sleep in the swing because she can’t lay flat....and let's be honest, I’m not sleeping....also a sign of PPD. But I still want to try and find the good in each day. I know there is some. 

If you’re still reading now, thank you. I know it’s probably boring, but I do appreciate you stopping by. I hope to bring awarenesses to my issue, I hope that I can help someone who is also going through this. I hope to share some resources that I find to help those that need it too. I mean, I contacted the suicide lifeline the other night to get help. I wasn’t suicidal that night, but I knew I needed help and I didn’t know where to go. It was a great resource. 

To end, I’ll leave you with this, actress Bryce Dallas Howard said “It is strange for me to recall what I was like at the time. I seemed to be suffering from emotional amnesia. I couldn’t genuinely cry or laugh, or be moved by anything. For the sake of those around me, including my son, I began showering again. In the second week, I let loose in the privacy of my bathroom, water flowing over me as I heaved uncontrollable sobs.” This is 100% how I feel. For me, it didn’t hit until a few weeks ago, but I can relate to this on a different level. Life for me is difficult right now. It's hard to get out of bed, but I’m hoping that if I’m open about it and I seek out the help I need, I’ll be able to live my life “normal” again. Also, please know that if you reach out to me and I don’t reply or I just say thank you, I’m not trying to be rude. I’m trying to heal. And one day I might text you to talk and that’s when I’m going to need you the most. I’ve come to realize that it’s ok to need help.

[domesticangel]

ok ok a 68 plymouth gtx for ris is perfection but what do u think the rest of the squadra has? i really wanna say one of them has a studebaker somehow but i just dont know (ignore it was a us based company i love them anyways shhhh)

god. this is the best ask i couldve ever gotten. buckle up. ha ha. bc cars. and also bc I’m not gonna shut the fuck up

but YEAH NO SAME i also chose to foolishly disregard that italians wouldnt likely drive american cars (or necessarily drive at all…america is mad obsessed with cars compared to a lot of other countries so sdkfhsdkj) bc its all fun and games so ik a lot of this would be unrealistic but I’m american so i really only know about american cars/cars that are popular in america dskjfsdkjf so sorry for America-Centrism On Main but if any italians or ppl w knowledge of italian cars wanna chime in w their own takes, by all means!!!

oh and this post also foolishly assumes la sqaudra has money. lets pretend for just this post they all actually got paid for their jobs

SO WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY warning this is gonna make this post rly long but I’m gonna ad pics of the cars i think they’d all drive like. in case anyone reading wants to know what they look like but doesn’t wanna look em all up so I’m gonna throw this under a cut in case it gets crazy

ok i can 1000% see sorbet and gelato sharing a like studebaker speedster that they would take out cruising for special occasions….it would spend most of its time under a tarp locked in a garage bc if you touch that car without permission you WILL die by their loving intertwined hands. some couples have babies. some couples get dogs. sorbet and gelato got a studebaker speedster and treated it with almost as much love as they do each other. one might think their driving would match the “crazy” impression everyone has of them but honestly? they prefer to take it slow and cruise so they have more time to enjoy each others company. on the job they’ll wreck a rental all to hell, but not their baby. the rest of squadra would low key fear for their lives on the rare occasion that sorbet and gelato offered them rides in their car bc the inside is spotless and they all knew if they left anything out of place or dirtier than they found it their time was up

i think they’d dig a color scheme something like this; still looks mob and sophisticated without losing the whimsicality u feel me

i really like a classic chevelle ss or ‘67 mustang gt500 for formaggio

(ignore how fuckin shiney these are bc make no mistake his would be scratched and worn all to hell)

in line w my headcanon that he’d be knowledgable about cars, i think he’d like supe them up and mod them for street racing or 1960s style drag racing. since we don’t get a lot of individual sqaudra backstory i sometimes think about him maybe losing his parents at a young age or having a bad home life as is typical of passione members and getting taken in by a local mechanic, and only as he got older realizing the shop had mafia ties which eventually paved the way for his induction etc but the knowledge and interest in cars always stuck with him. i think he’d probably drive the most recklessly out of all of squadra (rivaled only by ghiaccio ofc) bc he just loves to go fast as fuck and show off. he’s definitely a revs-the-engine-when-he-drives-by-someone-cute ass bitch

illuso would drive a ‘71 dodge demon, and honestly only because he liked the name and how it looked

it would honestly drive formaggio insane that illuso would ONLY use this car to get around as opposed to flying down the countryside or doing burnouts in a field. illuso doesn’t know much about cars and he doesn’t care to learn either; if it looks good and the engine turns he’s happy. formaggio would BEG him to race him or let him take it for a spin, but illuso would be adamant in turning him down every time. he has no desire to take risks and tear up a perfectly good car, but if he feels especially generous he’ll let formaggio ride with him while formaggio excitedly rattles off specs illuso doesn’t understand in the slightest. he won’t readily admit to it but seeing formaggio that excited is really endearing and illuso would even end up learning something here and there from their time spent together

ghiaccio is anal enough about All Things Italian that he breaks my disclaimer and actually does drive an italian car. y'all already know what the fuck is going on

hell yeah ghiaccio drives a lambo. ‘71 lamborghini miura to be exact. and boy does he make this motherfucker screech and drift. as much as he seems to abuse the car he’s extremely uptight about upkeep and will take it in as often as needed for repairs. you can also bet your ass he’d berate any of his fellow squadra members that didn’t drive italian-made cars, asking them why they’d choose to drive that trash on wheels when their country is home to the best cars in the entire fucking world and they have their pick. being in the passenger seat with him at the wheel is terrifying, don’t get me wrong, but he’s actually a very skilled driver, like to the point that he probably couldve been a stunt car driver if he wanted. but whatever you do don’t show any adverse reactions to his hard turns or brakes bc he will take it as a personal insult to his skill as a driver and you will find that the louder his voice gets the heavier his foot gets on the gas so Good Fucking Luck. (also yes ik we already see ghiaccio driving a car in canon but its headcanon time and during headcanon time ghiaccio rocks the fucking lambo)

prosciutto would drive a big beautiful blue ‘65 thunderbird convertible

he would also be very particular about the upkeep of his car, but without any sort of personal touch; he hasn’t the time nor desire to keep up with the car himself so he just makes sure he takes it to a reputable shop to do it for him. it’s not his “baby” or an heirloom; its just a car. it runs and looks good as all fuck while doing it so thats all he really cares about tbh. that said, if anyone ever scratched or keyed or dented it they wouldn’t live long to regret bc as a wise man once said, you don’t fuck with a mans automobile. i mentioned this in the my squadra meme as well, but even though he smokes like a chimney, he NEVER smokes in his car. no smoking, eating, or drinking in the thunderbird. sealed packs of cigs in the console only and if the seals been broken it has to stay in your pocket. the upholstery is pristine and he prefers to keep it that way. he’s a very mild mannered driver and even often errs on the side of slow; he doesn’t really see the point in wasting gas by speeding or messing up the tires or alignment by showboating. he knows that he AND the car already look good enough to command bystanders’ attention so he doesn’t waste his time with any extra flashiness

ima keep it real with you chief: melone would drive a car you could fuck in the back of and thats about all there is to it, so look no further than the spacious ‘61 chrysler newport

he would somehow figure out a way to get an aux cord and a sound system in this old motherfucker and would listen to his music so loud it about rattled the doors off, much to any passengers’ chagrin. he’s almost worse to ride with than formaggio or ghiaccio because he texts and messes with the music the entire time he’s driving. like its almost impressive how often he manages to NOT have his hands on the wheel. he’s a master knee-driver. all that in mind the rest of squadra groans in unison when melone offers to drive and risotto, who doesn’t have time for a squabble, gives the ok and send them on their way bc they know they’re gonna have to deal with melone insisting that driver picks the music and white knuckling the handles the whole time. but regardless, if the chrysler’s rockin and the britney’s boppin, don’t come a-knockin

since i see pesci as the youngest i think he’d be the last to get a car, but the rest of squadra would surprise him by all pitching in and getting him a ‘69 buick sport wagon

it’d definitely be a fixer-upper (prosciutto insisted it’d be good for pesci to retroactively “earn” the car by learning how to take care of it, prompting the rest of squadra to point out prosciutto never even learned how to fix a car himself) but pesci would be out of his mind appreciative of it either way. after years of only ever riding in the back seat of someone else’s car he’d be so excited about finally having a car to call his own. formaggio would take him under his wing and show him everything he needed to do to make sure she stayed running in tip-top shape and they’d grow pretty close over it; formaggio would lose his damn mind the first time he’d convince pesci to do a burnout on his own. pesci would try his best to keep the car clean but he’d probably have a bad habit of leaving empty drink bottles in the floorboard or extra jackets in the back seat, but all in all he’d do a pretty good job taking care of the car and making the generous gift from his team worth it. most non-work related outings would have pesci chauffeuring, but he wouldn’t mind, bc seeing all his friends crammed into his car and having a good time would make him really happy

and last but not least risotto and his ‘68 plymouth gtx 🖤

perhaps surprisingly he wouldnt be excessively meticulous about upkeep; he definitely wouldnt do anything needlessly reckless to harm the car or neglectful of standard upkeep, but he would definitely see it as more of a personal part of him than a machine that needed to maintain perfection. he wouldn’t really sweat scratches or dents here and there; they’re bound to happen to a car that old and if he found the time he’d take it to get it buffed. like i said in the hc meme i think it would’ve belonged to his father (or any family member he was close to really) and it was passed onto him when he died so it’s kind of a sentimental thing for risotto. though not quite the same level as formaggio, he’s fairly good at making standard repairs on his own, and doesn’t mind spending a weekend or two up under the car fixing it up and making sure it runs smooth. the rest of squadra would each be surprised the first time they ever rode anywhere with him; the second the car started old classic rock or metal would blast through the speakers, with risotto mumbling a quick sorry and turning it down, but not all the way off. they would find out that their stoic leader prefers to drive with the windows down, one hand on the wheel, other out the window tapping to the beat of the music on the hood

aaaaaaaaand YEAH. i told you i wasn’t gonna shut the fuck up DSFHKJADHKSDJ LMAO SORRY I WENT TF OFF BUT YEAH THOSE ARE MY. SQUADRA CLASSIC CAR HCs

[aeneasx]

The Zodiac Signs Ranked In Order Of How Good They Are As Husbands

1. Cancer.

Cancer men make the absolute best husbands, hands down. They never shy away from commitment, they are loyal, honest, and want to build a life with you. When they are in love with someone, they feel it so strongly, and because sensitivity is in their nature, you really don’t ever have to worry about the flame dying out for long in your life together. They are – ahem – crabby at times, yes, but honestly take comfort in the fact that the majority of your arguments will be about stupid things like who last took the trash out or that one friend you never want to hang out with but always seem to have to, rather than actual, legitimate issues like whether or not you want to be together, or whether or not they were faithful last weekend. Keep in mind that the latter are actual issues that people, unfortunately, do deal with. A Cancer man is a life you want to build a home and family with. They will be silly and fun and in love with you all. 10/10 put a ring on it.

2. Libra.

Libras are the ultimate relationship partners. They are obsessed with love, and though they are indecisive by nature, once they do choose what they want – especially in romance – they are all in. They are committed from day one, and their loyalty and love does not falter. They bring balance and beauty to the relationship, they inspire their partner to be better and dream bigger than they ever thought they could. Libras make amazing parents, and they are reasonably sound of mind when difficult times come up. They will be your rock, they will be your biggest supporter, and more than anything, they will love the crap out of your for as long as they can.

3. Scorpio.

I know, I know, you didn’t see this one coming. Your idea of Scorpios is probably that they are fiercely jealous and deeply emotional and have a dark sense of humor about it all. But that’s really what makes them such prime life partners. First of all, the opposite end of their capacity to envy is their loyalty. Once they have committed to you, they will commit to you forever. They will be protective, focused, give-you-the-shirt-off-their-back selfless and your biggest fan always. Together, you will be best friends and life partners. They will defend you by any means to anyone who dares speak an ill word of you, and you can trust that a Scorpio partner will be as faithful as they come. Once you are their desire, you will be their only desire. They are not for everyone, but the people who they are right for, they are right for always.

4. Gemini.

Geminis are actually amazing in love. Despite their infamously “all over the place” nature, they make for astoundingly solid partners. First of all, Geminis need other people more than a lot of the other signs. Geminis thrive when they marry someone they truly respect, to look out for a Gem who admires and is proud of you. Geminis are grounded by people who compensate for their weaknesses with complementary strengths. They jive best with people who are either inspirational to them, or who think more clearly and are less emotional than them. A Gemini partner is like the absolute best friend you could ever wish for, and the most passionate, creative, loyal love you will ever have in your life.

5. Pisces.

Pisces make great husbands, especially if you are into the “creative, emotional” type. You usually don’t have to worry about them being too aggressive or unreasonable, and once they are in love with you, they will be obsessed with you. Of course, as with anything else, it’s not right for everyone, but overall Pisces make super warm and loving husbands, the kind that take care of the kids and actually listen when you can’t decide what color off off-white linens to buy. Pisces will largely stay in their own little odd and creative worlds, and that’s fine, because not only are they deeper and more intuitive than the other signs (a huuuuuge plus in a relationship) but they have a life of their own, too. They aren’t going to suffocate you.

6. Capricorn.

Capricorns are the realest when it comes to being lifelong partners. They have all of the qualities of a strong and cooperative other half, and when they commit to someone, they do everything they can to make sure that they are putting as much effort as possible into the relationship. Capricorns are the epitome of “sturdy husbands,” one that you can lean on mentally and emotionally. They will forever be your voice of reason, your sounding board, your greatest encourager. Though they are sometimes known for being stubborn (which is occasionally true) they actually err toward being pretty open-minded, and that’s amazing when it comes to cohabiting and communicating well. They will listen and hear you out, even if they disagree.

7. Virgo.

Virgos are pretty good partners, but won’t always show every layer of themselves to you, at least not right away. They are loving and funny and are overall pretty chill about things, but Virgos also tend to have a bit of apprehension toward being “tied down.” Beyond this, at times, their paranoia and/or obsessive thinking can get the best of them, and they don’t always know how to separate what’s going on in their minds from what’s going down in their relationships. Virgos are about a 50/50 success rate in terms of life partnership. If they’re in, they’re in. If they are even just 90% committed, it will be a big problem down the line. Virgos aren’t a guarantee, but they’ll always be a wild adventure in the meantime.

8. Aries.

A relationship with an Aries will be great when the going is great, and then rough when the going is rough. They are opinionated, driven and like to take the lead with things. They like to highlight their individuality, want their voices to be heard, and like to be right about things. These traits, when in the wrong relationship, can really add up to some turmoil. It’s not to say that you’re doomed, but it is to say that Aries aren’t by nature the most agreeable people alive.

9. Leo.

Leo husbands are really a toss up. They will love harder than probably any other sign there is, and won’t hesitate to show their soft and sensitive side when needed. However, if and when challenged or put into a difficult situation, they struggle to maintain their cool and not become aggressive or overbearing. Life with a Leo is either great or it’s very difficult, whether you’re someone who can easily stand up for themselves or not. You’ll either spend 1/3 of your lives in a fight, or will often feel like your wants and needs are being imposed upon.

10. Taurus.

Tauruses are the single most stubborn sign of the entire group. It is their way or the damn highway. Aside from this, their standards are so unreasonably high that it will often feel like there’s just no way you can win. Sure, they are super loving and loyal to the people who they are close to, but building an intimate relationship with one really requires you to have a tough skin, and not be afraid to call them out when they need it.

11. Aquarius.

Aquariuses are the most ambitious and determined sign of the group, and that’s what makes them difficult life partners. They spend most of their time seeming sort of distracted and consumed by their work. Though they do often find partners that complement their lifestyles, it’s highly likely that their relationships will be impacted by their priorities at some time or another.

12. Sagittarius.

Aside from being the sign that is most often associated with being unfaithful (though of course, not every Sag is) Sagittariuses are just the free spirits of the zodiac. They want to adventure and explore and find who they are. They are meant to be in the woods, traveling through Europe, reading books on obscure topics and taking whichever lovers appeal to them at any given point in time. They aren’t the worst husbands because they’re bad people, they’re the worst because they are the least likely to be happy whilst committed.

[my-life-literally]

It’s only fair

I care a lot about fairness. And I guess what still hurts me the most is that I gave you not just my body but my whole heart. It may sound old fashioned and it is, but I am coming from a deep place of being. 

Deeper than tradition, deeper than society, deeper than all that.

In all honesty, I loved you the way a female animal loves her mate. I pet the nape of your neck like you were my beloved, like you were my su/on. And you didn’t care about your body or heart the same way. Actually you didn’t care about me in the same way. You didn’t hold your body and heart as sacred as I held your very body and heart. So when you fucked up, it’s like you were  trashing a part of me. 

Maybe you did. I don’t know. May be it is hard for me to imagine you didn’t.

But it still hurts to think that when we broke up, two weeks after, you were fucking other people. I felt ashamed for missing you, I felt ashamed when I slept with you afterward. I felt ashamed for being with you and lowering my standards. I did that to be closer to you.

And to be honest, every conversation, every time we kissed, every time you visited, I was ashamed of myself for letting you in, and letting myself back then down. 

When we were together I let you convince me out of so many of my convictions. To this day my belief in what is magical, and good and love in the world is forever changed. It has changed to the point where I second guess it’s existence. Or at least its existence for me. 

It’s was as if your opinions on things became more powerful that the things themselves. Maybe including me. 

In the Silmarillion, a book which I love but you would also mock, there was a character, Feanor’s mother, who birthed her son and poured so much of her powers and essence into him that she died. Later Feanor himself made the Simarils and poured so much of himself into them that he would never make anything like them again.

That’s how I feel, like I poured so much of my love and effort into you that I don’t know if I can create that magic again. I literally created magic for you, and still you didn’t mourn me when I left. You just thought of yourself. While I listened and twirled around like a Dervish to that song over and over again. Like I was in prayer, trying to let you go. Trying to pull you closer.

You meant so much to me in my life then. You loved me, you fought for me. You seemed so big. Like an answer. And so I fought myself and I fought my self-respect to keep you. You were so beautiful, and capable and moved mountains, and I just thought the world of you, I thought you can do anything. Like a Greek God. 

Then when you came down from wherever you went, and we were in bed again, where I thought I belonged. You told me that you had been with others. And you were forever changed for me. 

The way you demanded things of me that you chose to never deliver on, the times you told me that you didn’t believe in birthday cards, apologies, or loosing on purpose all came crashing down in and around my ears and I cried the whole time for myself. And for you. 

I went to war with myself over you, for years, and I realized that I had lost. That there was no point. And years later I admitted to myself that I should have stopped seeing you on our third date. 

I am afraid that you are much better at moving on than I am. I believe you caught me at a tender time in my psyche. And now it’s reached a point where this pain is unhealthy. It’s not fair to me. I chose to let you go once and for all, as a friend as a lover as a whatever. It’s fair to me. 

If you wanted me you would have come by now. But the truth is I am not sure I can every trust you. I don’t trust you. 

I cried for you tonight thinking, I gave him my body and heart, and he never cared for himself. He took what I held sacred and tarnished it.  And you never realized how sacred I am, I was, and neither did I really. 

I am an Angel. I am an Angel. A much kinder man told me I was an Angel. 

Anyways, whether I like it or not, I am standing up for myself. And I am not throwing myself at your feet or at love’s fucking feet. I am just not having it. It hurts like you wouldn’t fucking believe. But I would be a dumb fucking idiot to give you a second chance. I don’t feel proud you lost me, I feel sad that I wanted you to fight so hard. I feel sad for myself, that the hope you tried to kill so many times, is the same hope that has kept me in a bind to you. 

I feel like don’t know how to be with anyone else because of you. I feel like as long as you’re in my heart, that I am no good to another. I don’t even want another. I wanted you. I wanted you to come back. But you have not and I realize that you don’t want me. I want you to know, before I go, that I think you are the funniest, smartest, strongest guy I have met. You absolutely enthral me. You did from day one. Before I go, I want you to know that I have loved you with parts of me that only you have ever seen. Before I go, I want you to know that if you were half as strong as you show-off like you are, I would have been your life partner. Before I go, I know that I did and the thought of me will forever bring out the best in you. Before I go, I know you will always remember me as magical, before you think of me as lost.  Before I go, I want to say that I know you want me to think that you think me weak, when I  know that you have feared and will forever marvel at my strength. For I have the same strength as the woman who bore you, raised you and nurtured you. Before I go, I want you to know that I love myself more today. Before I go, I want you to know that I don’t want to. But I must. 

How on earth can I cut a chord so tender, a chord that is attached to one of the most tenderest places in me? I am afraid that if I do, then something like a callus will grow there and I will forget love forever. 

But it’s only fair. 

[lightsandlostbells]

Now that you’ve seen a lot of the skam remakes(though i don’t know if you’ve seen España yet), which ones are the best in your opinion?

Thanks for asking! I’ve been following España too, just posted a reaction to the first episode! I don’t know if I could rank Skam NL or Skam España yet since they’re so early in the story, but of the remakes which have completed a full season, here are my thoughts. 

Skam France: My least favorite of the remakes so far. I don’t want to trash it completely or anything, but it’s the most blatant copy+paste and the one that’s put the least amount of thought into adapting or localizing the story. Not a fan of the actors skewing older - and because they’re older and many of them are pro actors, I have higher standards for their performances, which often are mediocre. There’s a tendency to either speed through scenes in a perfunctory way so that there’s no room for real emotion, or makes scenes 10x more dramatic and soap opera-ish. The part that annoys me, though, is that there are just a lot of sloppy choices that makes it seem no one’s really paying attention. Like 90% of the script will be the same, except they’ll change one line, but instead of adjusting the scene to how that line should change things, characters will react exactly the same as in the original even if it doesn’t make sense. Or they’ll try to recreate a scene while eliminating the buildup that make the original scene work, such as Jonas’ cunnilingus power walk. The show also frequently overuses music instead of placing songs effectively, not just every time a clip ends. On the plus side, Daphne is great and saves a lot of the show for me, and some of the other characters are also fine. I have a theory that the production team is putting more thought into S3 and S4 so hopefully they took criticism into account and can make something that’s got more of its own personality.Druck: My scrappy baby! It’s not perfect - the show never really mastered the social media aspect, the odd release schedule hurt momentum a lot. It was more low-key and less polished than other remakes, but that’s part of why I enjoyed it so much. The cast was likable and authentic, sometimes the acting was shaky but overall I thought it was fine. It nailed the vulnerability of these kids as well as the sweetness. I loved the Eva/Jonas relationship in this one - it’s the only one I really rooted for outside of the original show. They had excellent chemistry and I thought the show had a good handle on that relationship and on Hanna’s character. I also felt they had a good handle on a lot of the educational aspects of Skam. It seems like Druck might not come back, which is an enormous shame, but I’m rooting for it. (Also? It has the best school doctor of the remakes, by far.)Skam Italia: Soooo ... I don’t love Skam Italia to the extent a lot of people do? I get why it’s the fan favorite, and it does do some things very well. It’s the best remake at localizing its story to its culture, it makes incredible use of its beautiful setting. It knew when to throw out elements of the original that wouldn’t have worked in the Italian setting (like russ) and inserted some intriguing new moments. The directing and cinematography overall are strong. There were some nice music moments. It slightly improved on William’s character for me. But there are a few things that were crucial to what I liked about Skam that aren’t here. For example, the authenticity in the casting - it just matters a lot to my enjoyment of the show that these characters are played by teenage actors, with all their gangliness and spottiness and awkwardness! But only two of the main cast are still teenagers and yeah, it may not bother some people, but it was a big part of Skam’s appeal to me. And for all the defenses offered up about Sana’s casting, I’m never going to think it’s not disappointing. When I think about Iman Meskini and all the good being in the public eye did for Muslim girls in Norway, it really is a shame. And I guess this is a ~hot take~ but the acting in SkamIt is ... fine. Eva and Martino were the best ones in my opinion, and their characters had a great believable friendship, but the rest of the cast is just OK to me. I think a big part of why I didn’t love S1 like other people do is that I didn’t like Giovanni, so the big emotional moments with him didn’t land with me because I wasn’t invested in them being together. I also thought the show did a good job with portraying Eva’s vulnerability, but toward the end it fumbled some key moments of her character arc. (Another hot take: there were a couple of moments on the male-gazey side that put me off, but luckily they were toward the beginning of the season.)

Skam Austin: Ahahaha, what to say about Skam Austin. This is the one that swings most wildly between good and not good for me? Julie’s directing is still strong and for the most part I think she can still create some great music moments. Girl Jo is fantastic. Shay is fantastic. I don’t blame anyone for being skeptical of how Julie will handle a lesbian storyline, but personally I do get the vibe that she listened to feedback about Skam’s lack of f/f representation and tried to improve, though only time will tell. The cast is diverse which was a huge concern of mine. Less good - a lot of the localization doesn’t work. Ask me my thoughts on the dance team if you want to hear an hour-long grumble! Certain elements were not explored that would have been a great way to adapt the story to American culture, for instance, it would have been interesting to show how Kelsey being a Christian in the American South affects her attitude toward sleeping with Daniel or getting pregnant, but it doesn’t come up. Or how Kelsey being a devout Christian might affect her relationship with Zoya. Things like that. The acting is a mixed bag but again, I cut the younger non-professional actors some slack. Marlon was the WORST and I did not want him and Megan together at all, but on the other hand I did feel there were some realistic additions in showing how teenage boys are dickheads to their girlfriends. It seemed like Facebook maybe sanitized some of the content, or perhaps that’s just because I had to watch the awkward “censored” version (THANKS ASSHOLES). Not to mention Facebook’s interface annoyed me, and I found watching the show on FB not the best platform for delivery or discussion.

So overall, Druck is the one that most captures what I liked about original Skam. Skam Italia is a solid show and a good remake in a lot of ways, but not nearly up there with the original for me (as a lot of people rank SkamIt S1 as high or better than Skam S1). Skam Austin is a wild card that frustrates me while still doling out some intriguing aspects and gems (give Josefina a fucking season!!!!). Skam France needs to step up its game in most areas but hopefully will improve.

With the newer remakes, Skam NL is falling nicely into that Druck style where it feels authentic, and Skam España is mixing things up a lot so I respect it for that alone.

[tarablysrry]

Woes from a Daughter

“ It would have been so much easier if I would have died in July. All the physical and mental pain for both of us would be gone.”

     This is a quote from my Mother.There was a time, my Mom was the highlight of the room. She was a good nurse, a damn good person and a fucking outstanding mother. She was good at what she did and even better when she put her mind to it. I was the highlight of her life, she was my only parent, I her only child. Life was beautiful. I was spoiled, proud of my mom, and we were each others biggest fan. She was my hero.

     My mom broke mentally one day. Things got piled on  her, and her mental rubber band broke from so much strain. She was harassed, I was molested, she lost her mother, and things were falling apart. I watched my hero crumble. My house fell into desolateness and dismay. It became a hoarder house; trash, disgust, and decay. I once was a spoiled child, now became a young mother to my own mother. There were days I fed her cookies, just to be sure she was eating something. I tried to clean the house, time after time, and it seemed like a trash monster just slithered its way back around the corners and untouched rooms. Things were starting to rot - walls and flooring from a leaky bathroom. I had no room of my own in a 3 bedroom house. It was all gobbled up by the depression. My mom sank further. 

And further. 

And further. 

Until she tried to kill herself. 

     I remember I was on the computer - my only friends lived in that thing -- and she called me and said “ Tara, call 911″. I asked her why She said “ Nevermind.” I remember picking up the phone, covering the talk hole and listening in to her admit she took an overdose to a 911 dispatch. The night, I watched as the pumped her stomach, while my neighbor dragged me down the street, away from it. Trying to spare me. 

I don’t remember the second time she tried. I just remember there was a second time.

     From there, I was living off and on with my aunt, off and on with my best friends’ family, or taking care of my mom. I was no longer her daughter at that point, I was her caregiver. She was in and out of hospitals. In and out of depression. Sleeping for days on end. I can’t tell you much about those days. Just bits and pieces. 

     I am 32 years old. My mom has lived with me and has been on and off in the depression monster state for years and years. But, now.Currently. The depression monster is at full swing. I have been drained of all empathy, sympathy and remorse for her. I recognized she has tried for so long, and I see that she has fought to be half the person she was.  But this year, it feels like we are back at square one. 

I left a relationship. Because I didn’t consult my mother, make sure she was ready to transition from being in one relationship with me to another, make sure she was comfortable with moving and allow her accurate time to adjust to my life, she tried to kill herself. Again. All because I moved too fast for her, didn’t slow my life down for her. My life. Mine. 

     My wife of now 7 months has been more than willing to try and be accommodating. Tried to love her and be loved by her. Tried to go out of her way for her. Down to the point of kissing her ass. But, it was never enough. Mom always had something to say. So, when my wife blew the fuck up, expressed herself and vented to her friends online, that was too far? Now, I am getting messages like : 

     Great. Please keep throwing it in my face how you are so unhappy riding my coat tails and you want to die. That is a real pick-me-up. Who needs coffee with the crippling anxiety of the possibility my mom will kill herself at any given time? That shit will keep you up.

     She can talk about my wife, say terrible and untrue things about her. Make it out that my wife is anything less then a wonderful human person. But, as soon as my wife expresses herself about the whole situation and drops a few truth bombs? Oh, end of the world. 

     So, here is the thing. : I’m tired. 

     How can I remain supportive, after being supportive, controlled, and latched onto for most of my adult life. I haven’t ever gotten a chance to spread my wings. She’s always just  been there. She calls it being close to her family. I call it suffocating me because she doesn’t know how to live independently anymore. I understand that I am her one and only. I have no siblings, and no other parents. She is it. But, I’ve tried. For many years to make this woman happy. I’ve done things that I never thought I would need to do in order to just make her happy. To feel like she is proud of me. 

    Now? Now I just feel like a terrible daughter. My marriage is strained because of this. My wife says she isn’t going to leave me. And I believe her. But, we also have 6 more days until she flies to live with my aunt in Vegas. My anxiety level is through the roof because my mom and my wife have both had it. My wife has every fucking right to  be pissed, to be hurt and to be crushed by this, as she really did try to be a good daughter in law. All my mom has done is criticize, hold my wife at this ridiculous standard, and shove her opinion in when it was never wanted or asked for. 

     I should be sad that my mom is moving. I really should be.   I love my mom. I’ve always loved my mom and I always will. I know I will live with some regrets for the rest of my life. But, right now, I need her to move away. I’ve always told her she wasn’t a burden to anyone but herself... but now? She is. She has been crushing my chest for sometime now, and I’m tired of gasping. I just want the opportunity to life my own life, carve my own path, make my own mistakes and not feel the pressure of living for the both of us.