#and holy shit this triangle is used for so many things and that's cool as fuck

[thethingything]

Simply out of curiosity, what’s your favorite shape? It’s my typical “getting to know you” question- I think you tell a lot about a person by their favorite shape. Mine is the hexagon :)

ooo this is an interesting one. I don't think any of us have thought about it that much but I kind of went "triangles have a good vibe?" and then Lucy went with the Reuleaux triangle and I think I'm probably going to go with that as well. it's so shaped

[cookie-waffle]

Conservatives: Facts don’t care about feelings!

facts conservatives ignore because they hurt their feelings:

- The fact that scientific studies on transgender people and their brains supports their validity.

-The fact that biology proves that sex is a spectrum (human knowledge of biology does not end in your 8th grade science class, I’m sorry)

-The fact that homosexuality is extremely common in the natural world. Humans are far from the only species known to experience same-sex attraction.

-The fact that several decades of scientific researched has proven without any doubt that yelling at and hitting children traumatizes them and negatively impacts their development.

- The fact that the most conservative states in america that often ban sex ed from schools have the highest rates of childhood pregnancy in America.

- The fact that intersex people are just as common as redheads and are often negatively effected by transphobia

-The fact that no ethical doctor with more than two brain cells would let a prepubescent child take HRT.

- The fact that pink used to be for boys, but it was changed to blue because Hitler labeled gay holocaust victims with pink triangles. The idea that “blue=boy and pink=girl” is inherently rooted in violent homophobia.

- The fact that statistics show that gender affirming care can increases quality of life for trans people immensely

- The fact that their words and actions have a real world impact that causes tragedies like what happened to Nex Benedict.

-The fact that you can debunk most (if not literally all) republican conspiracy theories with basic research (they just choose to believe it face value because it aligns with their personal feelings)

- The fact that minorities exist in real life, and that it’s actually LESS realistic for every work of fiction to have mostly white, straight, cis people in it. Diversity, when implemented correctly, adds realism to a story. And if you find that “distracting” then you might have some personal biases you need to work through.

- The fact that assuming kids are born with completely man-made gender norms like “Trucks are for boys and unicorn are for girls” hardwired into their brains is absurd and has no real scientific evidence supporting it.

- The fact that many archeological discoveries suggest that prehistoric women were a lot more active in hunting and fighting than was previously assumed.

-The fact that clothing is just an object and that dresses, high heels, and makeup were originally designed for men to wear.

-The fact that drug addiction is classified as a mental illness and should be treated, not punished with years of imprisonment.

-The fact that androgynous men are often considered to be extremely attractive by women.

-The fact that language is an entirely human-made construct that evolves and changes constantly, pronouns included.

-The fact that climate change is a real thing holy shit. You are actively destroying the future for your grandchildren by not believing it exists.

- The fact that many dinosaurs did have feathers, it actually looked cool as fuck, and that if you actually think that an animal is “woke” for having a skin covering you don’t like you might need to have your brain studied by scientists so they can find out what causes “Giant Crybaby Dipshit Disease” (GCDD)

[48787]

I am literally always correct about media

Three episodes into Bravern.

I saw the first episode, not even, the first fucking MOMENT it said "This is a training exercise" I knew, I fucking KNEW, I was in for the Evangelion Rebuild 0.00 You Do (Not) Want To Watch Evangelion experience. And my Brothers in Shinji Ikari's goop, I'm ignoring that parenthetical because thesis never exist in the first place, and parents never exist in the first place, it's all just the complete and constant Holy Trinity of living in the present for the present. And oh boy that Angel sure is Cruel.

If you don't think I'm speaking "Truth" you need to realize two things about me:

1. I've seen footage. They've shown us so much, and broke show-don't-tell DELIBERATELY multiple times to address the immediate concern that the audience should be asking IMMEDIATELY if they've seen the same footage as well (Like how it obviously has a 1 to 1 Evangelion LCL bit but it's green and referenced as "From The Abyss" doing that absolutely devilish charm of manipulating by never telling lies, only different truths, further proven by "Wait how do you know about that?" Or how the outro is clearly on a stage but then it almost tears or blurs into stars. You fuckers remember MyHouse.wad right?? You know this shit means something, right??) Or the invocation of very very very specific tropes followed by another very very very specific trope, or the deliberate subversion of trope followed by a character deliberately trying to force the trope out of subversion into genuinity. Many such cases, too many to list. I've just seen footage and I don't know how people don't see the fucking massive amount of narrative foils-per-minute, both within the show and connecting outside the show. The Evangelion shit is easy, it goes far deeper than that. (A good example is how they were clearly invoking starship troopers-y Earth patriotism and then subverted SST by the mixing of genders in a changing room seeming awkward and like it's not supposed to happen but happening anyway to form an extremely subtle juxtaposition.)

2. I stay noided. Every fucking subtle change of the framing device, of a characters features (Like in the outro alongside choice moments in the show, similar to the effect Cyberpunk Edgerunners that I can first remember coming from Evangelion), the minor moments of nonfalsifiability, the constant IN CHARACTER "Don't think about it just do it my way and it'll be okay" explanations that only rhetoric-obsessed mentally ill person like me would understand (Followed by things that only make sense if you knew what to look for), the fact that the intros and outros are literal propaganda that the audience WANTS to buy into (I believe representing the passion the fucking love hypercube evokes and each member experiences uniquely), the consistency of certain stylistic choices (Like conflating the stars and crosses to focus on Evangelion just a little more), the deliberate choice to use an entirely new stylistic transition or in between just to pretend like it wasn't anything important at all, it all MUST have meaning. The whole POINT is the power of inspiration and the neutrality of power being two coexisting ideas. The clothing metaphors, the masking metaphors, the gay metaphors that form subtle trans metaphors that form certain asexual-aromantic-agender metaphors, the literal fucking AT fields that are broken by vulnerability. Lewis (The current parallel to Bravern) loses but chooses what's cool so he can try it better next. Ishami (The current parallel to Lulu.. not Vi Brittania I swear, absolutely zero connection at all, tooooootally) is more "serious" but far more vulnerable and has his masks broken down.

They're fucking in a love triangle but tricked you it's actually a fucking square that's been folded so the corners are touching. Which corners are touching which? Good question asshole, it's all of them.

Someone thought "the MegOp ship is pretty cool. If they weren't around would it be Hotrod/Rodimus and Soundwave instead? They are kind of thematic opposites to both their normal foils anyway." and then made a whole show about that after everyone who ever heard that either didn't see enough footage or couldn't stay noided long enough to realize what a genius they were. And since no one understood just how much context builds up to even being able to think that in the first place, they just made the perfect show about manufacturing consent. For what? Literally anything and everything, including nothing.

I know exactly how fucked up the polycule formed when a mortal dares to ask "What if the three parts of the Holy Trinity, like, kissed and fucked and made out?" would be because I dare to ask it constantly, I am living it, we all are. It's the Divine Comedy, it is hell, it is chicken it is eggs it is in between your legs (10 points if you've seen enough footage to get this), and above all else it's hot as fuck and makes me want to never give up and live forever, no matter who you are no matter what you love doing.

I love this fucking show, I can't wait to finish it so I can be proven right on all accounts.

Y'all dumb motherfuckers keep refusing to understand Evangelion, your hubris makes you think you're somehow above Shinji, that you'd be different if you were put in his shoes. And that will always mean people like Lulu and Bravern will always exploit you for the love of doing it.

I have so many thoughts about this show and they're all right and if you think a single one of them is wrong you will literally be proven wrong because I will always be right, in time and out of time.

Maybe the next post or two will be more coherent since I'm taking a break, but I should actually finish the show first so I can gloat even harder about being objectively correct about everything in the universe ever.

[katkafe]

HELLO, IVE JUST FINISHED WATCHING WEDNESDAY

because i am the biggest dumbest nerd when it comes to the addams family: ive made a crappy list of why wednesday is everything i hoped for and more and why it is absolutely fucking perfect. spoilers.

im not entirely sure on how to start slow with this one so im getting right fucking into it. enjoy reading the disaster of my thoughts on this masterpiece:

AMAZING CASTING. jenna is incredible as wednesday, catherine and luiz are the perfect morticia and gomez, i adored seeing christina ricci KICKING ASS. gwendoline christie was amazing as weems, fred armisen as fester???? lost my shit he was so perfect. i don’t think there was a single cast member i wasn’t amazed with.

no genuinely i loved all of the nevermore students

fell in love w enid so fast omg i was rooting for her so hard her arc was so awesome (her and ajax are so cute too)

rip rowan you would’ve loved wenclair

THING!!!: its not the addams family without thing, and its especially not the addams family if thing isn’t being a little shit stirrer the whole time. perfect beautiful i love him A++ 

THE WEDNESDAY/PUGSLEY DYNAMIC WAS SO ON POINT they literally have the actual best sibling dynamic

i now know that you have not lived until you’ve seen wednesday addams stuck in a love triangle. she is not a character that you would expect to have a romantic interest but now in my mind she’s just beautifully a-spec and probably demiromantic. yes obviously i love xavier.

don’t get mad at me but i don’t ship her w enid that much?? at least not romantically but hey i would not complain if we had a polycule or qpr!!!

also it was genuinely so cute to see wednesday making friends like. why was i sobbing so much when she hugged enid. holy fuck.

THE DANCE SCENE. SHES AN ICON SHES A LEGEND AND SHE IS THE MOMENT

i am referring to both her actual dancing and ofc “they couldn’t even spring for real pigs blood. its only paint.” so real.

cant even stop myself from mentioning that jenna ortega looks very hot covered in blood which happens a lot in this series. like almost every episode. jesus fucking christ i am so in love with her.

i am a huge edgar allen poe nerd so i fucking adored every little reference to his works. also the idea that he was an outcast is so real to me.

speaking of outcasts: ngl definitely could’ve come up with a better name, “outcasts” just made it sound weirdly like some awkward teen high school drama but you get used to it

wednesday’s visions were so cool??? i loved the whole goody addams thing their interactions were really cool and god i just was not expecting that at all.

ok tbh it was really weird that her name was goody, since “goody” is the puritan equivalent of “mrs.” (its short for goodwife) so idk why they did that but ok i’m still here for it

honestly in general they do a really good job of keeping you guessing. i was suspicious about almost every single character throughout the whole series. 

in retrospect i should’ve known tyler was gonna be an asshole from the start cause. i mean. his name is tyler. no offense to my tylers, but be real when have you ever seen a tv show character named tyler that wasn’t a douche. i’ll wait.

i’ve typed tyler too many times and it no longer looks like a real name

episodes are nice and long but i obviously wish the series was longer, but it was super bingable and i’m probably gonna rewatch it 3 million times until the next season inevitably comes out.

not to be dorky but i loved how every episode title was a pun w the word “woe” 

i have really horrible media literacy in the sense that i overthink EVERYTHING so to me like almost everything in that was beautifully executed symbolism and maybe it was but when i say i lost my shit when i noticed wednesday stand on enid’s side of the room and fsr thats the only example i can think of rn BUT STILL

overall 5 stars 10/10 show i cant wait for more i love the plot i love the characters i love the cast i will be recommending it to everyone ik and more

[gremistired]

Greetings, I am back with your irregularly scheduled art post!

So basically I have like… 5 aus of my utmv ocs cus the brainrot is… so bad… n I have been hyperfixating on one I call Renewed Scales! It’s really cool n awesome and I’d explain it but we’d be here all day and I’m sure y’all just want the art so SJDNSSN

These two are experimental pieces! Basically playing with lighting and brushes n things I’d normally not do on a non experimental piece, and oh my god I cooked..

Basically, first one is my silliest of illies malfunction!! That was the first one I did, and this drawing takes place in the second half when tensions are high and malfunction has lost almost everyone she has to the bbeg who is oddly triangle shaped (it’s.. it’s bill sans- i wanted to use a bbeg that isn’t one of my ocs, and I wanted to explore other characters in the multiverse)

And the second one is my beloved man Dimidros!! The mad prophet of my au BeastTale! This one was the most experimental, and holy shit.. either way, this one takes place around… 4 years after malfunction and malware (need to rename her, also another fan kid I have that is very plot important for this au!) were born/created? Dimidros is talking to/getting harassed by the triangle man and basically said “Yk what, I know the exact time and date the two of us die, my goddesses will be back and they are gonna come kick yo ass” n then disappeared, he is mid teleport as he says this hence the drawing being all blurry n stuff!

And as a lil snack, a silly lil thing cus I promised my irl’s server that I’d draw malfunction happy next time!

Malfunction and malware! Raised in two different places and having the twin goddesses’ souls (reincarnation :3) these two mfs have so many issues! I need to malware post more, she’s so silly goofy (hopefully next malware post gives her a new name… cus it SUCKS[/j] and is too close to malfunction’s-)

Buut yea! I love Renewed Scales a normal amount, n all I can think about these past few days are Renewed Scales and a wof arc 4 au I’ll come here one day to talk about :D

If y’all read my rambles your a real one, I wanna post more here but my postable random thoughts are few and far between and I haven’t been drawing that often-

I shall depart now! I’ll try to post again this month… that’s all I can promise SHDSJDJSJSNA

[piper-williamson]

my hoa ranking of characters — least favorite to favorite

not all characters are on this list but the ones i felt like i could rank as of rn. there’s too many minor characters i don’t care for and it’s not that i particularly care for the others i just remembered them enough to rank.

~~~~~~~~~~

rufus — -70969943853/10

kidnapped patricia. and jerome. and trudy. willing to commit human sacrifice of a kid. threatened them with electric bees or whatever. have had nightmares about him. thrilled that bitch is dead

denby — -10/10

so threatening with her words but she’s all talk. no action. kinda makes me hate her more? but in a different way. storyline is so messy like how did she even find out harriet’s destiny and how did she then decide she wanted to awaken a >hundred year old man and basically a hell demon?? like girl just go work for donald trump or somethin

vera — -6/10

not as annoying as denby but still like what did she even want? to be with rufus? why?!?? creepy af the time she was frozen dead but like not.

mick — 1/10

just,,, there. all he does is be in love triangles and play the sports. half of his storylines are just him leaving. patricia says there’s a man in the house (rufus) and he eats a banana. n who gives their gf and “just a friend” matching bracelets?!? 1 point for not being evil.

victor — 1.5/10

as much as i wanna put him above mick, he yells too much. calm down old man. 1 point for caring for the kids enough to not carry on when he found out about the whole human sacrifice thing. also saving joy in s2. y’know what he gets half a point more than mick.

trudy — 4/10

trudy is heartwarming but holy shit is she oblivious. Is Just Ok with “robert smith” being there even when she has no confirmation of his identity. very loyal to the kids and does protect them from a lot of shit. writers did her dirty a lot of the time.

mara — 5/10

ok listen. i don’t dislike mara. i just tend to favor the sibuna mystery storylines, and all of her stories are more realistic scenarios. that being said i love her helping poppy and i also love the sisterhood thing in s3. but also mara why the FUCK would you fall for mick like he’s mick??!?

kt — 7/10

written into hoa way better than on shows like h2o where there’s just one sentence about emma being gone and that’s that. she wasn’t just nina’s replacement, she was her own person. love her personality and her friendship with eddie. 100% a lesbian. only reason she’s so low is cuz no matter how good she is of a replacement character she still kinda is one and i don’t do well with those. i’m working on it.

nina — 8/10

i love nina so much. fabina is so cute together. i think the only reason i have her so low and don’t wanna put her higher is cuz i always hate main characters, even though i don’t hate nina. my mind is strange.

amber — 8/10

dumb blonde stereotype but who cares i love her. provides much comic relief for me especially in s2. ping pong queen. also love her bday episode. ungrateful for alfie at times. also liked mick but it’s a little more understandable cuz Hot Guy cliche. but was also mean to mara about it. but also a lot of that was mick’s fault #blamemick

alfie — 8/10

class clown who’s loyal af. Actually completes amber’s bf trial list. would go through hell for her. always feeling like he has to prove himself to the group but he’s always been an asset. we love him.

willow — 8/10

was such a comfort character when i was little. for some reason rewatching she was less of one. still absolutely so pure of heart and lovable. somebody get this girl a hedgehog.

eddie — 9/10

cool dude™. top notch bf. peddie is one of my fav ships ever. he kinda gets all heroic in s3 but s3 has a whole set of issues. plot twist reveal of his daddy issues. great development while being a great character the whole time.

fabian — 9/10

such a solid dude. guy-falls-for-girl-first trope to the max. he’s awkward and nerdy but not really cocky or annoying. fabian defense squad for life. point off for kissing joy like dude besides the outfit she looks nothing like nina come on.

jerome — 9/10

terrible person at times, but great character. comfort character of mine. his flaws allowed him to be developed throughout the show. he feels very real and human and i love him.

piper - 10/10

obsessed w her cuz i’m also pretty similar to her. both of us go (went) to music school and love patricia. not that i think she’s a BETTER character than a lot of the characters lower on this list, but this is a ranking of my favs so she has to be above them.

joy — 10/10

also a comfort character. i honestly feel most like joy out of all the characters. similar to jerome in that her character flaws lead to richer development. i live for it. was Literally held hostage by her parents and forced into a cult in s1. most of anubis house seemed to just brush that off. that doesn’t excuse her actions, but i love her growth throughout the series. not higher cuz she was kind of a dick to nina for a long while.

patricia — 10000000000+++/10

again i wish there were an infinity symbol. do i even have to say anything? witty and sarcastic and says what’s on her mind. i wish i were eddie cuz i’m in love w her. i know amber’s the one who went to fashion school, but patricia is a style icon. my gay awakening.

[un-pearable]

OKAY season 3 thoughts time. not as long but also s3 was like half the size:

worst thing first: the jay/naya/cole love triangle is so ...... bland. its got nothing going for it. like at this point in the show jay/naya honestly speaking doesn't really have a lot going for it. like we dont ever see them hang out or do fun stuff together as a couple or have any cute bonding scenes outside of jay being like "wowww nya hot" or anything. we dont have any real reason to root for them, so why they decided to introduce a love triangle is beyond me. like i guess its because they haven't done anything interesting with jay/naya and a love triangle is the easiest and blandest option possible, but like. come on. cole & naya barely interact in the season outside of cole fighting with jay and i'm really confused as to why we're supposed to think cole has any romantic interest in naya because they... have even less going for them than jay/naya. like man if we're gonna have a love triangle anyways i'd like to have any reason to root for at least one side. please. im not asking for much. make your characters hang out a bit and have some common interests and enjoy spending time together before you start telling me they're in love.

number two: im kind of obsessed with how garmadon's moral standards consistently disappear when it comes to lloyd. like pre this season he takes his vow of non violence or whatever but after lloyd gets captured it just. goes completely out the window. moral compass: son

number three: circling back to ninjago's inability to write a compelling romance i dont inherently mind zane/pixel (and its certainly got better writing than the.... uh . competition, if you want to even bother calling it that) but i do wish the writers would start out these romantic relationships with a much more solid platonic base. like its not the end of the world but i do wish it was more compelling.

number four: ZANE GIRLBOSSING IT THIS SEASON FINALE!!!!!!!!!!! this is one of the few things i did remember from like 8 years ago and for good reason its because hes literally perfect in every single way

number five: im nitpicking here but i think lloyd should get to swear. i think he's earned it

number six: this is more of a general observation than anything else but one thing i think is really . weird. about ninjago's writing is that it seems that every season they give the ninja new cool epic powers and then by the next one they get taken away. and like i understand the reasoning for this - its like when shounen writers keep giving their protagonist increasingly world-shattering powers and the power levels just keep getting more and more ridiculous, because if your original villain is "conquering the whole world and turning everybody evil" then theres only so much you can amp that up as the seasons go on without tacking on too many powers that nobody should be able to stand up to the hero anymore - but also its just. its just weird because i dont think ive ever seen anything like this.

okay i think thats abouttt it im, as always, very excited to get to some of the things i distantly recall (namely in particular the giant green eyeball thing and possibly a tournament / survival island arc that i think was a thing (???)) i know lots is in store and all i really want rn is character interactions. thats my dream i will honestly forgive so much as long as im having fun with the characters and dynamics in a series

whuff…. yeah. as much as thematically i love pixal and theoretically jaya could be extremely interesting. they do NONE of the work to make them so. zane <3 <3 baby’s first traumatic character death. he is. he really is. he deserves it all and so much more. whoever’s censoring lloyd must get paid well bc that kid grew up in eternal middle school. kid knows more swear words than the rest of these socially isolated dorks let him use them

i’ve never really thought about that but,,,, holy shit yeah???? i’m nowhere near an active dragon ball fan but it IS baffling that instead of the usual shonen style they-just-keep-getting-new-powers and we stop using them bc a) we forgot they existed (which does happen a bit here, but less commonly) or b) they’re just obsolete, in ninjago they EXPLICITLY get said new powers taken away. multiple times. is it a medium limitation?? is it just a quirk of the writers??? i’m gonna be thinking about this all night

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[grooberson-a]

today ,  we’re  gonna  go  over  who  is  gary  grooberson  and  why  should  you  be  willing  to  die  for  him  from  my  chaotic  brain.  which  means  it’s  going  to  be  very  all  over  the  place  but  also  very  gary  of  me.  at  some  point  in  this  i  will  make  a  read  more  because  i  know  it’s  going  to  get  long. 

it  became  a  1,238  word  essay ,  actually.

anyway ,  let’s  begin :

gary  is  a   dudebro.   is  he  hella  smart?  yeah ,  actually  he  is  because  he’s  a   seismologist.   teaching  summer  school  was  just  cool  because  he  had  a  decent  space  where  he  could  set  his  maps ,  findings ,  seismometer ,  etc.  to  create  and  establish  the  patterns  with  seismographs  of  the  tremors  in  summerville.  he  could  play  horror  films  for  the  kids  who  didn’t  wanna  be  there  while  he  tries  to  understand   what   is  creating  the  “ earthquakes ”  in  summerville.

personal  blogs ,  do  not  interact  in  any  way  or  you’ll  be  blocked.

nonetheless ,  he’s.  a  whole   seismologist.   he’s  also  aware  kids  in  summer  school  aren’t  the  brightest  bulbs  so  when  phoebe  is . . .  phoebe  he’s  literally  so  excited  to  actually  put  his  knowledge  to   good  use.   although  when  phoebe  realizes  he’s  a  seismologist  she  asks  like  it’s  hard  to  believe.

phoebe :  you’re  a  seismologist? groobs :  does  that  seem  so  hard  to  believe? phoebe :  . . .  figured  you  for  a  football  coach. groobs ,  unsure  how  to  react :  oh . . .

groobs :  uhm ,  thank  you.

she  starts  talking  to  him  about  the  seismic  activity  which   makes  his  millennium   really  because  holy  shit  she’s  smart.  so  he  tries  to  explain  why  his  findings  don’t  make  sense  for  summerville  but  she’s  well  aware  of  the  terms  he  uses  and  what  he’s  explaining  so  she  makes  this  horrible  geometry  joke  and  he  pauses  for  a  whole  minute  before  deciding  he  wants  to  adopt  this  child  i’m  100%  sure.

pheobe :  where’s  it  [ the  explosion ]  coming  from? groobs :  i  don’t  know.  i  don’t  know ,  i  tried  setting  up  geophones  but  i  can’t  triangulate. phoebe :  are  you  using  three? groobs :  yeah.  i  know  how  many  sides  there  are  in  a  triangle. phoebe :  i  just  thought  you  were  being  obtuse.  *winks*

groobs :  was  that  a  geometry  joke? phoebe :  yes ,  that’s  why  i  winked. groobs :  ah ,  that  was  terrible.  no ,  i   loved   it.

so  at  this  point  they’re  on  the  same  page  because  he  fuckin’  loves  science  and  she’s  probably  smarter  than  him  but  also  can’t  talk  science  with  her  mom.  that’s  a  whole  thing  but  anyway–––  when  she  brings  in  the  ghost  trap  she  finds  in  egon’s  house  he’s  like ,  “ whoa ,  cool  replica! ”   but  she  and  podcast  are  clueless  which  ngl  kills  him  inside.  he  fanboys  over  the  ghostbusters  and  says  new  york  in  the  80s  was ,   “ like  the  walking  dead ”  before  realizing  it’s   not   a  replica.  it’s  the  real  thing  and  he  literally  loses  his  mind ,  shows  them  the  old  ghostbusters  commercial  on  youtube ,  and  has  to  power  it  up  afterward.

genuinely  he  takes  the  two  after  school  to  hook  up  jumper  cables  to  one  of  the  busses  and  the  ghost  trap  to  open  it.  which  prompts  this  man  to  go  into  the  best  take  on  science  i’ve  seen  in  my  life ,  as  shown  below :

podcast :  should  we  open  it?  [ a  ghost  trap ] groobs :  *hooks  up  jumper  cables  from  a  school  bus  to  the  ghost  trap* groobs :  glasses.   *hands  safety  goggles  to  phoebe  and  podcast* phoebe :  two  millimeters  of  plastic  eye protection?  are  you  sure  this  is  safe? groobs :  safe?  hmph.  no.  no,  history  is  safe.  geometry ,  that's  safe.  science  is  all  particle  accelerators  and  hydrogen  bombs.  science  is  giving  yourself  the  plague  and  gambling  on  the  cure.  phoebe :  science  is  reckless. groobs : totally!  yes!  it's  punk  rock!  it's  the  safety  pin  through  the  nipple  of  academia. podcast :  wow.

and  then  has  podcast  start  the  engine–––  these  kids  are  like  12 ,  dude.  lmao.  he’s  batshit  but  in  the  best  way.  you  thought  venkman  had  gameshow  host  energy?  this  guy  has  pure   paul  rudd  energy.   yeah.  anyway ,  it  releases  a  terror  dog ,  the  windows  on  all  nearby  busses  and  cars  shatter.

groobs :  uh ,  we  should  get  outta  here. phoebe :  but  you’re  an  adult. groobs :  yeah ,  and  liable.

btw ,  he’s  absolutely  already  confirmed  phoebe’s  dad  isn’t  in  the  picture  on  the   first  day   because  he  met  her  mom  and  decided  it  was  time  to  simp.  makes  a  whole  move  after  driving  her  and  podcast  back  to  egon’s  farm.  and  compliments  podcast  on  being  weird  and  how  great  it  is.  he  trips  over  himself  with  callie ,  phoebe’s  mom  and  egon’s  daughter ,  so  fucking  badly  that  it’s  perfect.

callie :  you . . .  brought  them  home? groobs :  it's  a  service  i  provide. callie :  aren’t––– groobs :  well  i'm  also  an  escort. callie : mmmmm  🤨 groobs :  that  came  out  wrong. callie :  kinda . . .  mm ,  yep. groobs : look ,  the  truth  is  i've  always  kinda  wondered  what  lurked  inside  this  haunt  box.  [ egon's  house ] callie :  right ,  well ,  the  only  thing  lurking  inside  here  is  my  slowly  dying  soul. groobs :  is  that  what  that  smell  is? callie :  well ,  it's  not  dinner ,  so. *awkward  silence* callie :  would  you––– groobs : sure! callie :  like––– groobs : yeah! callie : i don't have any food––– groobs : it's  fine! callie :  a  tour? groobs :  great! callie :  great.

needless  to  say ,  he’s  a  huge  himbo.  on  the   himbo  triangle   he’s  situated  mostly  in  the   dog  subcategory   but  kind  of  a  douche  except  he’s  not  a  beefcake?  he’s  just  double  dumb  and  respects  women.  he  is  genuinely  so  in  love  with  callie  already.  but  one  moment  that  really  just  shows  how  much  he   admires  phoebe   is  during  a  date  with  callie  she  explains  why  she  just  can’t  get  through  to  phoebe  and  he  reassures  her  phoebe  is  just  an  awkward ,  nerdy  kid  and  needs  time.  but  he  goes  into  how  science  is  great  and  how  great  phoebe  is  with  it  and  it  just   melts   my  heart  every  time.

but  let’s  talk  about  the  terror  dog  scene.  this  man  goes  to  walmart  for  ice  cream   ( baskin  robins  as  an  ant–man  reference ,  he’s  absolutely  a  scott  lang  variant.  fight  me. )  and  sees  tiny  stay  puft  men  toasting  each  other  and  blending  each  other  and  it’s  fucking  wild.  so  he’s  leaving ,  right ,  and  he  sees  a  fucking  terror  dog  eating  purina  dog  chow  and  when  it  realizes  he’s  there  he  blue  screens ,  tries  to  say   hey  buddy  and  when  it  roars  at  him  he  fucking   chucks  his  pint  of  br  at  the  terror  dog’s  head   and  hauls  ass  out  of  walmart.  ends  up  slip  ‘n’  slide  jumping  through  his  car’s  broken  windshield  and  the  terror  dog  pounces  the  hood ,  which  deflates  his  tires ,  and  then  he  gets  possessed  by  the  keymaster.

even  after  he’s  back  to  gary  at  the  end  his  priority  is  callie  and  confirming  they  banged  as  keymaster  and  gatekeeper.  

now  this  part  isn’t  canon  but  like . . .  you   cannot  tell  me   that  he  didn’t  stand  up  with  the  ghostbusters ,  with  his   idols   and  be  in  such  awe  that  all  he  can  do  is  go  for  a  hug  with  egon’s  ghost  but  shake  his  hand  instead  and  say ,  “ i’m  a  big  fan  of  your  work. ”   and  he’s  referring  to  98%  callie  and  2%  contributions  to  ghostbusting.

and  that’s  why  you  should  accept  dudebro  himbo  kooky  bananas  man   gary  grooberson   as  your  lord  and  savior.  thank  you  for  coming  to  my  tedtalk.

[mytastessuck]

Gorillaz: Plastic Beach

mAh, nostalgia. This album was my high school years. I got a digital copy for my birthday from my mom and became obsessed with this album well into college. The dominance of electronica, the use of people with great voices, the expansion of the lore, Lou Reed...this album was all of music when I got it. It's my favorite Gorillaz album and it looks like it's gonna stay that way for a while. But how is it on a not even approaching semi-objective level? Let's find out.

1. Orchestral Intro

You can probably guess it by my awful taste but I'm not really into orchestra. This opening though, with the sound of waves and the mourning instruments, really tipped me off that I was in for something different. This album wasn't going to start off with something chill or even a zombie movie clip. No, at this point, Gorillaz were officially done fucking around.

10/10

2. Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach

Then we get the brass leading us into a good beat and then HOLY SHIT, SNOOP DOGG?! He leads us in like a bandleader while a chorus of women back him up Just Like That while he goes with his usual flow. He adds the needed touch of instant cool to an album that's practically frozen with the artists already on it and with this song, it feels like you're walking past the gate into Disneyland.

9/10

3. White Flag

Some nice Arabian sounding instruments on this one. Pretty cool for Gorillaz to keep engaging in world music. Anyway, this was a really cool instrumental but it's time to move on to the other son---

Huh?

Suddenly, we get beeps and mixes backing up Bashy and Kano as they kick so much ass talking about pacifism for the sake of survival. This song kicks an undisputed amount of ass and it barely even tries.

9/10

4. Rhinestone Eyes

What I like about this song is that I keep finding new things to like about it as the years go back. First, I liked the weirdly-threatening nature of the song along with the woman moaning in time with the verses. Then I liked the video (even though it was insanely shady of EMI to release that without Damon's and Jamie's permission and it ended up being the thing that led to Phase 3's premature ending and Gorillaz going on hiatus). Then I liked the continuation of the moaning that I first noticed in live performances then finally heard in the song itself. This song is like Rolexes falling from the sky.

10/10

5. Stylo

Ah, the first single from the album. I remember telling my dad about this when I first saw the video for it. I was about to write off Gorillaz as a relic of my past before I saw Murdoc and 2D get run off the road by Bruce Willis. This song has an awesome bridge by Yasiin Bey, nice crooning by Damon Albarn and incredible back-up by Bobby Womack, who manages to lift the entire song over his head using just his voice. Damn, wish he had another song that put his voice on full display. Maybe later in the album...

10/10

6. Superfast Jellyfish

Yeah, De La Soul is back! And they're singing about TV dinners! Seriously, these guys can make guessing crossword actually fun instead of a dredging experience and have Shiny Toy Guns frontman Chad Petree singing about radioactive seas brings the whole thing home. It makes you want to really go out and eat a random jellyfish but don't do that. It'll hurt.

11/10

7. Empire Ants

Okay, before I give this song its totally fair score, it should be noted this is my third favorite song of all time. I love Damon's reassuring lyrics in the beginning but the switch in the middle to a more upbeat electronic pop tune pushes this song past perfect.

Then there's Little Dragon...

This song introduced to me to Yukimi Nagano's voice and wow...I didn't think humans could sound like that, let alone an Asian woman singing soul. If you think the instruments are carrying her here, obviously there are clearly no other songs on the album that showcase her talents so I have to recommend After The Rain, Twice and Constant Surprises by Little Dragon. Seriously, this woman's voice will water your fucking crops.

500/10

8. Glitter Freeze

Where is north from here? Don't ask me, I'm not a compass. Anyway, this song has Mark E. Smith from The Fall and they use him to his fullest extent...by which I mean letting him make an absolutely evil fucking laugh somewhere near the end. The instrumentation makes it feel like you're in a storm on a shaky ship and you're definitely going to feel like you need some pills after you're finished. This stuff will put hair on your chest.

11/10

9. Some Kind of Nature

This song introduced me to Lou Reed and I'm grateful to it for that. Lou was a shitty dude but damn his voice really made things better than they should have been. Fuck, I was one of the eight defenders of Lulu for this reason. But Damon doesn't sit with his thumbs up his ass on this song. He holds his own and makes the chorus sound legitimately dreamlike. All we are is stars, indeed.

100/10

10. On Melancholy Hill

This song is awesome to chill to...unless you're escaping a cruise ship while being gunned down by fighter jets. But other than that particular example, I recommend this song for anyone trying to relax while thinking of someone special. But be careful with the last note of this song. That gong can be a real eye opener.

9/10

11. Broken

Bummer of a song but if there's one song you absolutely NEED to learn on melodica, it's this one. Aren't we all broken? Well I am. And this song speaks to me.

10/10

12. Sweepstakes

Yasiin's back and there's gonna be trouble. He plays a carny in this track and you know that no matter how many times you listen to this song, you'll always gonna fall for his schemes. He's gone on to say that this is one of his finest achievements as a MC and I can see why.

10/10

13. Plastic Beach

Holy shit, they got the 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover guy on this track. Makes since because this, outside of Empire Ants, is my favorite song on the album. The harmony, the little imp they got for the bridge, the triangle...everything makes this song better than it has any right to be on an already awesome album. Damn, plastico indeed.

200/10

14. To Binge

Shock of all shocks, Yukimi's back! And it's a duet with Damon! And it's a song about a relationship torn apart by addiction! It's not my birthday so it must be Christmas. These two manage to drown the listen in waves of audio goodness that leaves them feeling like they spent 3 minutes and 56 seconds standing under a waterfall.

20/10

15. Cloud of Unknowing

Okay, I cried to this song. And now, with Bobby Womack's passing, I cry even harder. This song should be an anime ending with how solemn it is but you need to listen to the end to hear, "It may bring sunshine on its wings." Also, Damon covered this song live after Womack's passing. I suggest you look it up because it is tear-ripping.

50/10

16. Pirate Jet

Eh. Pretty average song compared to the others on the album but I appreciate the message. Sweet Lord, people. Turn off your shit when you're not using it. We only got one planet and I don't trust Elon Musk.

8/10

Album Score: 60.1/10

Whoo! No biases! Anyway, next week is The Fall, otherwise known as the album Albarn did on his Ipad. Otherotherwise known as the album a significant portion of the fandom has a hate-on for. Does it deserve the hate? We'll find out!

[leonardovaldezz]

Of Toasters and Lightning

@bunkernine Nico

Sometimes, just sometimes, Nico thinks waking up is a burden.

Not because he doesn’t want to wake up, life is... decent as of late, if you forget about saving the world, the doors of death, all that bullshit. And even with all of that, he quite likes waking up. No, the reason it’s a burden, especially this morning in particular, is because Leo Valdez is standing in the middle of their dinning room on the Argo 2, remote control in hand as an abomination of a toaster sits on the table. It’s sliver and extremely long, glossy like it’s just been polished. In eight different slots are pieces of un-toasted bread, each with their own sets of timers.

He’s grinning so wide it almost takes up the entirety of his face, hands proudly planted on his hips, dark brown eyes twinkling with excitement. And much to Nico’s surprise Annabeth is next to him, looking simultaneously defeated and curious, grime swiped across her cheek. Nico almost feels sick, she was probably helping him with this.

“Welcome,” Leo says, sweeping his arms over the monstrosity, “To the Leabeth toaster. Patent pending.”

Nico blinks. Percy is oooing and ahhhing at the thing like they’ve just presented the cure for cancer, messing with the knobs and running his hands across the metal.

Annabeth snorts, “We are not calling it that.” She says simply, and Nico wonders briefly if this is actually a dream.

Hazel just looks confused, gingerly reaching out to touch it, looking like she expects it to somehow transform and chase after her.

“Why do we have a toaster with eight slots?” She asks, sounding genuinely confused. And yeah, Nico feels the same way.

Leo grins and he’s basically bouncing in place. “I’m glad you asked! The new and improved octa-toaster-”

“We’re not calling it that either.” Annabeth interupts, looking like she’s fighting a smile.

Leo just blows past the interruption. “-was created to service all of our bread toasting needs! Now with new and improved technology we can all toast our bread at the same time, in the same toaster! No more waiting in line, just pick a slot and be on your way!”

Percy looks starry-eyed, “Genius.” He says. Now Nico knows it isn’t a dream, no one can beat Percy Jackson in the art of being ridiculous, not even dream Percy.

Jason and Frank stand at the edge of the table, and Jason’s pinching the bridge of his nose. Frank looks amused, but worried. Nico isn’t surprised, the guy’s always worried.

“Won’t it take like. A lot of power to run this?” He asks, eyeing the octa-toaster.

Annabeth shakes her head, “No, just a quick zap of lightning from our resident boy wonder here and it’ll run just fine for about a week. That’s how me and Leo designed it, at least.” They bump fist. Nico thinks he might go into cardiac arrest.

Piper looks endlessly amused, “I call this slot!” She says, standing at the fourth one down. “Also I demand a presentation, does it toast perfectly on all sides? Does it have the right amount of spring to make the toast pop out after it’s done?”

Percy nods, “Spring is important, that’s what makes a good toaster.”

Nico rubs his eyes, walking over to the table to get a better look at the thing. It doesn’t look as simple as a regular toaster, it’s got way too many buttons and settings to even be considered. And as much as he hates to admit it, it’s... cool. Dumb, but very cool. There’s even a button that adds butter while it’s cooking. And also, he’s curious. He wants to know if it can cook all of the bread at different temperatures all at once.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Jason says, but he’s fighting off a smile and Nico knows he thinks this whole thing is funny, “It would’ve been more efficient for all of us to wait to use the toaster one by one.”

“That’s no fun!” Leo chirps, waving his controller in the air, “Besides, this baby doesn’t just toast your bread, it’s more than a mere bread warmer! It has range!”

Nico snorts, “Oh yeah, it sure does, range that takes up the entire table.” He jokes, pressing down on the pre-buttered button, “Now come on, I want to see how this thing works.”

“Jason,” Frank says, “If you could please do the honors of zapping our giant toaster machine?”

Jason’s face contorts, “What? No way!”

Percy tsks, “Come on dude, don’t let us down, we all want to see the wonders of the octa-toaster!” Annabeth shoots him a dirty look, probably for addressing the toaster as ‘‘octa-taster”, but it’s too late now, the name has already stuck with everyone.

And Nico doesn’t know who starts it, but a chant of Jason’s name starts filling the room. (It was him, he started it).

After a few minutes Jason caves, “Alright alright, everyone stand clear.” And everyone cheers as he points his finger at the contraption, moving their hands and stepping back. Lighting shoots from his finger and dances across the metal, zapping and flickering until it eventually settles. Everyone holds their breath, and for a moment it’s silent in the room. When nothing continues to happen, Hazel’s voice is the first to break the silence.

“Uh,” she looks disappointed, Nico makes a mental note to talk to her more about technology, he doesn’t know much either but they could learn together, “Is this what’s supposed to happen?”

“No, definitely not.” Leo answers, and he’s tinkering with the remote, “Hold on let me just-” He presses a button and with a swirl of clicks and clacks the machine thrums to life, shaking the table as it warms up.  Everyone cheers and Leo’s got a big, shit eating grin on his face. “Everyone make your selections now! I’m gonna send these babies down in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

With preferences for time toasted, buttered, jellied, and all of the other bells and whistles, Leo presses a button, and all of the bread goes down with a whoosh. 

Now, Nico thinks, is the waiting game. If the entire toaster doesn’t burst into flames he’ll call it a success. Which shouldn’t be too hard, Leo’s a pretty smart guy, and besides Annabeth helped him with this... creation, she would’ve factored in things like: mass fire started by overheating of a eight slotted toaster. It’s actually all a little crazy to think about, if Nico is honest. They’re supposed to be on this serious quest to save the world and whatnot, but somehow in between it all they’re still finding time to be dumb teenagers. And if the excitement in the room as everyone waits for the first pieces of toasts to pop up is anything to go by, then Nico knows sometimes they need breaks like this.

The first pieces of toast pop up, and everyone gasps. It’s Pipers, and she takes it out and slowly inspects it. It’s lightly toasted and jellied, grape jelly specifically. We all watch in anticipation as she brings it to her nose, sniffing before taking a bite out of it. We all hold our breath as she chews.

She swallows, and her brown eyes are blown wide, “Holy. Shit.”

As if on cue other pieces start popping up and everyone goes into a frenzy, Nico thinks he can hear Hazel yelling about how it’s been pre-cut in triangles for her, and somewhere in the distance he can hear Percy trying to convince Jason to carve a smiley face into his toast with lightning. Idiots.

He crosses his arms, his toast is the only one that hasn’t popped up yet and he’s starting to get impatient. Just when he thinks he’s going to have to complain a hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Normally he would jump at the touch, whirl around and start something, but no one else on the ship is bold enough to touch him but his sister and a very persistent Leo Valdez. Nico doesn’t need to turn his head to know the boy has a smile on his face, and he knows it’s him because of the excessive amount of heat that rolls off his skin.

“Patience, young grasshopper. Perfect toast requires the utmost control.” Leo jokes, and Nico begrudgingly cracks a smile. He’ll never actually admit it out loud but. Leo is funny. Or he’s just an idiot, which means Nico probably has a thing for idiots.  “Yes of course, Sensei, I remember your lessons.” Nico jokes back, turning his head to look at him, and just like he suspected that smile is firmly in place. “To be in control of the toast is to be in control of oneself.”  Leo burst out laughing, and Nico is so caught up in it he doesn’t even notice when his toast pops up.

[hawkinshellfire]

Right Where You Left Me

Chapter 10 - Paper Rings 

Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night

 Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

Three times 'cause you waited your whole life

 The Hideaway was one of the few places in Hawkins that Joyce rarely frequented. Being a minor, she wasn’t allowed in after-hours but she wasn’t a huge fan of the grungy atmosphere the establishment presented anyway. She could count on one hand how many times she’s been here in the past decade, tonight being one of those times.

 Hopper had picked her up after her parents were asleep, signalling the usual way and watching from the car as she slipped out her bedroom window. Earlier at school, he insisted that they needed a night out to make up for lost time and Joyce, though initially she put up a fight, gave in and agreed to meet him. 

 They hadn’t talked about what happened (or almost happened) at the fair, but she could feel things beginning to shift between them. Today, they ate lunch together beneath the bleachers and laughed like they hadn’t laughed since they were kids. They agreed to move past all the bullshit and drama from the past month and move forward with their friendship, but neither of them forgot about what almost happened between them. Hopper made it clear that his feelings for her extended far beyond platonic, and she knew he was waiting for her to indicate that she was on the same page before jeopardizing what they almost broke, again. 

 He‘d surprised her by telling her he made arrangements for them to play pool in one of the back rooms of the Hideaway. Initially, she didn’t believe him when he told her that this was where they were going. They were underage and it was far past the hour when the bar opened, but he’d somehow managed to convince the manager, an old friend of his fathers, to hold a table for them. 

 “You ready to get your ass kicked, Horowitz?” he smirks while he adds chalk to the end of his pool cue. 

 They’re the only two people in the room, dimly light and buzzing with the faint sound of the neon signs lining the battered walls. The green felt-lined table lay beneath an old red and blue glass light fixture, surrounded by walls covered in random newspaper articles in pale wooden frames. 

 Hopper hands Joyce a cue and moves to rack the balls. Dressed in her leather jacket and a dark pair of jeans, she fits in with the bar aesthetic and he momentarily envies the way she naturally exists anywhere. 

 “I’m pretty good,” she fires back. She walks a few paces around the edge of the table and waits for him to remove the plastic triangle from the corralled balls. 

 “When have you ever played pool?” he asks. 

 “Josie taught me.”

 He gets quiet, her reference to the time when they weren’t speaking rendering him momentarily speechless. He hated himself for letting her slip out of his life so easily. 

 “Can I break?” she asks. 

 “Be my guest,” he gestures towards the table. 

 Leaning forward, one hand wrapped around the wooden cue, thumb propping up the edge, Joyce sends the white ball flying towards the others, which scatter across the table. She sinks a solid and follows up by sinking another before resigning to Hopper. 

 “Holy shit,” he remarks after her first turn. 

 “I told you. Get ready to lose,” she winks. 

 She takes the first game but loses the second and the third not-so-graciously. She whines that Hopper’s cheating when he takes the lead in the third game, even though they both know he isn’t. 

 Partway through their fourth game, Joyce loses interest and finds herself sitting between the corner and side picket, legs dangling from the edge of the table, while Hopper continues to practice around her. 

 “Aren’t you bored yet?” she pouts, leaning back with both palms on the table. 

 “Practice makes perfect,” he grins. On the opposite side of the table, he hits the red ball off the orange and sends it sailing towards her. 

 He rounds the table and stands in front of her, her body preventing him from continuing. 

 “You know you’re in the way, right?” he smirks down at her. 

 With doe eyes and a flirty smile, she stares up at him and tilts her head slightly to the left, “What if you’re in my way?” 

 “That’s not even possible. You’re just sitting there.”

 “I’m studying the game,” she lies. 

 “Oh?” he plays along with an amused grin. “And what are you learning?”

 He takes a step closer to her and her feet brush against his shins. 

 “That you’re not very good,” she laughs. 

 “And yet, I kicked your ass two, no three times.”

 “The last one doesn’t count. We never finished.”

 “Because you gave up,” he reminds her.  He takes another step towards her and towers over her while he reaches around her and encompasses a ball with his palm. His cheek grazes hers as he lunges forward, launching the ball into the side pocket with a self-satisfied grin. Without realizing it, he’s standing with both of his feet planted between where her legs dangle off the edge of the table. 

 Pulling back, their chests graze and Joyce gulps. Rather than step away once the ball is no longer in his grasp, he leans down and uses his thumb to raise Joyce’s chin until their eyes lock. 

 “What?” she chuckles softly.

 “I feel like I’m going to kiss you,” he admits. 

 He sees no sign of hesitancy in her eyes and closes the distance between them by planting his lips on hers with impressive force. She reacts by instinctively urging him forward with her heels, her hands settling in his hair. 

 His upper lip brushes against hers softly and unlike their previous kiss that was desperate and passionate and rushed, this one is slow and explorative. He takes his time with each movement, determined to memorize the curve of her smile and the way she tastes. Kissing her, it was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. Something lit up in him and made every nerve ending in his body rejoice. If he were to compare it to a physical action, the only thing that would come close would be the swell in the air in the brief moment between the crackle of thunder and the crash of lightning. 

 When they finally part for air, he rests his forehead against hers and traces the outline of her lower lip with his thumb. Before he allows it to slowly roll off the center of her lip, she catches him off guard by biting down on it and raising an eyebrow suggestively. 

 Hopper reacts instantly, lunging forward once again to kiss her. She tumbles back with him this time, leaning back on her elbows while plunging her tongue into his mouth. Hopper’s knee rests on the edge of the table and he uses it to balance himself as he hovers over her. 

 The moment is broken when someone breaks a glass in the bar and the shattering sound echoes through the kitchen. Embarrassed to have let himself get so carried away, Hopper climbs off Joyce and extends a hand to help her up while using the other to straighten out his shirt. 

 “We should… um… I should get you home,” he mumbles. He drags a hand through his hair and tries to calm himself down with a few deep breaths. 

 “Yeah, we should,” she agrees flustered. 

 They gather their things and Hopper leads Joyce out to the car, his hand guiding her from its place on her lower back. 

 The ride home from the Hideaway is comfortably silent. Joyce has her feet kicked up the dashboard, one arm hanging out the window flapping up and down with the cool evening air. Hopper’s gaze flicks from the road to Joyce and back again, forcing a blush to settle over her cheeks. 

 Neither of them says anything but words aren’t needed. Everything felt like it was falling into place and words were a form of communication the pair never needed. Joyce smiles at Hopper and continues to stare out the window at the passing town while she wonders where this metaphorical road will lead them. 

 There was no going back, that much she knew, but it felt like the relationship she and Hopper had was progressing naturally towards something bigger and she was bursting with anticipation just thinking about it. 

 When they arrive at Joyce’s house, Hopper offers to walk Joyce to the door. She politely declines his offer, knowing that she’ll be far too tempted to resume the wordless conversation that begins at the bar. Hopping out of the car, she tells him she had a nice time and waves before beginning her climb up the side of the house towards her window. He waits for ten minutes after she’s tucked away in the safe confines of her bedroom and then begins the journey back to his own house, all the while smiling like an absolute fool. 

 While he was glad that he and Joyce managed to fix their friendship, he couldn’t help but notice that it was evolving into something more. He knew he made the right decision when he told Chrissy that his friendship with Joyce was too important to walk away from, but tonight, he realized that it wasn’t his friendship with Joyce that he was choosing. It was the hope that they could explore what this inevitable spark between them meant. 

 Joyce hadn’t exactly told him that she wanted to pursue the possibility of them, but if the way she kissed him was any indication of how she was feeling, he was positive that they were on the same page. 

 He knows it might be too soon, but to hell with precedent. He wanted to show Joyce what she meant to him by taking her out on a real date. 

 He was tired of pretending he wasn’t ready to fall head over heels in love with his best friend. 

 .

.

Joyce hadn’t seen Hopper since their steamy kiss at the Hideaway, being as he had an early morning workout with the football team and she spent the morning working on an essay in the library. He bounds into science class with a massive smile on his face and gives her a two-fingered wave as he takes his seat. 

 The bell rings and the lesson begins promptly, leaving no time for the pair to have a conversation. 

 Midway through the lesson that Joyce is only semi paying attention to, she feels a folded-up piece of paper land on her arm. 

 Amused, she looks over at Hopper, who she finds is staring back at her with wide eyes and childlike amusement. Shaking her head at his antics, she stealthily unfolds the note beneath her notebook and reads it.

 Go to the dance with me? -H

 She doesn’t outwardly acknowledge what it says, instead choosing to slide it under her notebook and force her focus to be on the lesson. She can feel Hopper glaring at her from his seat across the aisle but she doesn’t dare look over at him.

 Was he serious? Did he want to take her to the dance? He had to mean as friends, didn’t he? She’s a mess of what-ifs and is tingling excitement at the possibility that perhaps he meant what she wanted him to mean. Maybe he meant what he’d been telling her and his infatuation wasn’t just because he couldn’t have her. Joyce hates herself for being so hopeful, but he’d given her so many signs, how could she not hold out hope. Besides, just because she wanted him to be interested in her, didn’t mean that she trusted that this was something he actually wanted. It could have been a personal challenge to see if he could acquire what was unattainable. 

 When the dismissal bell rings, Joyce gathers her books, tucking the note between her middle and index finger and marches herself over to Hopper’s desk. 

 “Ha ha. Very funny,” she remarks, returning the note to him. 

 “I wasn’t joking,” he admits. 

 “Yeah right. Hop. Be serious.”

 “I am. I’m being dead serious. Come to the dance with me?”

 “I hate dances,” she reminds him. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather go with your friends or ask some girl you have your eye on now that you’re single?” She makes sure that her words don’t come out harshly so that he knows she doesn’t mean to be rude by reminding him of the recent change in his relationship status.

 “I did just ask the girl I have my eye on,” he admits. 

 Her draw drops open slightly, “oh.”

 “I know that the note was kind of lame but I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about this - you and I, I mean, and I really wanted to ask you.” He nervously runs his hand through his hair and chuckles. “As my date.”

 Joyce is silent for a moment while she attempts to process what he’s just said. She wants to say yes, to believe that they can be something together, but… for whatever reason, she can’t bring herself to trust that this is real. That it isn’t too good to be true. 

 Years of people letting her down had taught her that nothing was ever as good as it seemed and despite her knowing Hopper, the entire situation with Chrissy makes her doubt even how well she knows her best friend. He’d become a different person when he was with the blonde, what if he thought he wanted this and then changed his mind? It would leave her with nothing. 

 “Joyce?” The sound of his voice interrupts her thought.

 “You know I don’t dance,” she rolls her eyes. Lacing her arm through his elbow, she leads him to the door of the classroom. “What do you say we skip next period and have lunch under the bleachers?”

 “I wish I could but I promised Benny we could toss the ball around at lunch. Later this week, alright?”

 “Alright,” she smiles. She waves as he heads off towards the football field and lets out a long breath, grateful he hadn’t pushed the dance subject. 

 The next day after school, Joyce finds Hopper waiting at her locker. 

 “I thought you had practice after school today?” she questions him.

 “I do. I wanted to see if you wanted to go to the lake later?”

 “Hmm. I’ve got some homework to do. What time?”

 “I was thinking I could pick you up around 8?”

 “I’m not sure Hop. I shouldn’t.”

 “Joyce. It’s a Friday. Live a little,” he smirks and pokes her.

 “Fine. But pick me up at 9 o’clock instead.”

 “As you wish. See you at nine!”

Wearing her sneakers and leather jacket, Joyce flings herself into the front seat of Hopper’s car and immediately reaches for the radio dial. 

 “Hey! I was listening to that,” he whines as he begins to back down the driveway. 

 “We both know you like this song better,” she beams. He shakes his head because as always, she was right. 

 He can tell by the way she’s fidgeting in her seat that she’s in a good mood and it makes him smile. He adored seeing her happy. 

 He drives down the old country road that leads to the lake and appreciates the way he and Joyce can sit in complete silence without things feeling tense. She was the only person on the planet that he was content to sit in silence with. With anyone else, he felt the need to strike up a conversation, but with her it was simple. 

 Admiring the way the moonlight illuminates the side of her face, his focus shifts from the road to the girl riding shotgun. With her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and her lips painted what was becoming a familiar shade of red, she was radiant. The way her lips curve up into a slender smile and crinkle the skin at the edges of her eyes reminds him of a time when they were kids and he would spend hours trying to make her laugh just to see her smile. Her smile was like a drug to him; he was addicted and couldn’t get enough. 

 Joyce is staring out the window when they pull up at a red light and Hopper takes the opportunity to admire her. She has her elbow propped on the window, chin resting in her open palm while she leans forward through the open window and looks at the corner store across the road. 

 An impulsive thought urges Hopper to lean across the center console and kiss her. He doesn’t. He wants to but knows it would be irrational and impulsive. Joyce was not the type of girl that deserved impulse, she deserved a whirlwind romance and well-thought-out action. 

 He swallows hard as he swallows his sudden need to kiss her and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. 

 Joyce turns towards him and catches him staring, an action that forces them both to blush. 

 “What?” she asks. 

 “Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just looking.”

 “At me?”

 “At you,” he nods. 

 The light turns green and Hopper presses the gas pedal, moving the car through the intersection and in the direction of the lake. 

 When they arrive at the lake, they decide to stay seated in the car so they can listen to music and Hopper retrieves a bottle of Whiskey from the backseat and pops it open. He takes a large swig before cocking his head and offering the paper-bag-clad bottle to Joyce. 

 She kicks her heels up on the dashboard and crosses her ankles while mirroring his previous action and downing some of the alcohol. She sputters when it first touches her lips and Hopper laughs. 

 “Jesus Hop. That’s terrible!”

 “That’s why you need to drink more, so it begins to taste better.”

 “That is terrible logic,” she giggles. 

 “But you have to admit it makes sense.” 

 “Maaaybe,” she replies. She takes another sip and passes the crinkled bag containing the bottle back to him. 

 “So,” he begins nervously. “Have you given any more thought to what I asked you?”

 “I agreed to come to the lake tonight, I thought that was the answer?” 

 “The other question. The dance,” he reminds her. 

 “Oh,” she replies, “I told you. I don’t do dances.” 

 “Not even with me?” 

 A beat passes without either of them saying anything. “I’ll have to think about it,” she finally responds. 

 While she wanted to agree to go out with him, a huge part of her was holding onto the fear that Hopper’s invitation was lust-driven. It was childish, but for selfish reasons, she needed him to prove that he really wanted this. Her. She needed reassurance.

 “That’s not a no. I’ll take it,” he smiles. 

 They fall back against their seats and once again give in to the comfortable silence, wordlessly passing the bottle back and forth while staring out at the still waters of Lover’s Lake. 

 “Joyce,” he says, staring straight ahead. 

 “Mhmm?”

 “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how much I like the whole red-lip thing.”

 “Thanks, I like how you’ve been styling your hair lately,” she tells him. 

 Feeling impulsive in her own way, Joyce reaches across the car and rests her palm on his right knee. 

 Hopper stills beneath her touch and his pulse begins to race. He forces himself to relax and he asks her how her afternoon of homework went. She begins to explain the concept of the essay she’s working on and excitedly waves her arms around when she describes her stance on the topic. 

 He smiles and nods, doing his best to ask appropriate questions and listen to what she’s saying. 

 “Gosh I’m so sorry I’m rambling. You don’t care about my stupid essay,” she says. 

 “Joyce, I care about everything you have to say,” he tells her. 

 Smiling, she shifts herself close to the center console separating their seats and allows for her hand to shift up his thigh. Her thumb gently swipes across his upper thigh and she gives his leg a slight squeeze. 

 He looks down at her hand and gulps. Covering it with his own hand, he stills her thumb and they lock eyes. 

 “You’re playing with fire,” he warns her in a hushed tone. 

 “Maybe I want to get burned,” she flirts. She maintains eye contact with him while she speaks. 

 Hopper reaches across the car and runs his calloused hand along Joyce’s jaw line and up to cup her cheek, pausing to drag his thumb over her lower lip. Time moves slowly while his thumb rolls off her lip and drops down into the charged space between them. She gazes up at him through hooded want-filled eyes. 

 He leans closer, breathing laboured and closes his eyes. Lips hovering mere inches from hers, he breathes her in and prepares to close the gap between them. In the distance, a car horn blares and causes both Joyce and Hopper to jump and pull apart. 

 Joyce fiddles with the ends of her hair, twisting it through her fingers while she waits for Hopper to say something. 

 “Ugh,” he stutters, “maybe we should…”

 “Head home?” she finishes for him. 

 “Yeah. Since we’re going to have to walk, I’m afraid I’ve had a bit too much to drink.” 

 “A walk sounds nice to me,” she grins. 

 They begin the walk back to Joyce’s in the dark, travelling along the edge of the gravel path that’s faintly illuminated by the yellow-tinted street lights. 

 Joyce swings her arms at her sides, the warmth of the alcohol and the adrenaline of what almost happened in the car making her giddy with excitement and confidence.

 She takes another sip from the bottle and passes it back to Hopper, trailing one heel behind the other as she playfully walks the line between the grass and the road. 

 “What’s better, time travel or flying?” he asks.

 “Time travel.”

 “Agreed.”

 “Space or the ocean?” she asks in return.

 “Space. The ocean terrifies me.”

 “I know,” she responds. “Me too. It’s too big.”

 “Space isn’t too big?”

 “It’s a different kind of big. It’s mysterious in a good way. The ocean just reminds me of something that contains too many secrets.”

 “And it has squids,” Hopper adds. “I hate those things.”

 Joyce’s laughter rings in his ears and she takes a few staggering steps towards him and reaches for their shared drink. 

 “Squids? That’s the scariest part of the ocean?”

 “You can’t make fun of me, you’re afraid of spiders!”

 “They have so many legs!” 

 “So do squids!”

 “Let’s just agree to stay away from anything with eight legs?”

 “Deal.”

 “How was your week?” Hopper asks her.

 “Not too bad. My mom joined us for dinner last night.”

 “That’s good. Right?”

 “It was strange. She’s never home for dinner.”

 “Maybe she’s trying?”

 “I’m trying not to get my hopes up,” she admits.

 “What about you? Is your dad still bothering you about a football scholarship?”

 “Only every day. I doubt I’ll get one.”

 “You don’t think you’re good enough?”

 “I know I’m not. I love the game, but I don’t think it’s how I want to spend my life.”

 “And how exactly do you plan on spending it?”

 “Honestly, I have no idea. I figure I’ll just wait and see how things go next year. Wait until all the pieces fall into place.”

 “I like how that sounds. I think I’ll do the same.”

 “Well then, here’s to letting the cookie crumble,” he toasts, raising the bottle to his lips and then passing it to Joyce. 

 Without warning, a crackle of lightning flashes across the sky and thunder booms. 

 Quickly, Hopper takes Joyce’s hand and tries to run for shelter but she pulls her hand away and stays rooted in her spot in the center of the street. 

 With arms outstretched she stares up at the sky and lets the rain drops drench her face. 

 “What the hell are you doing?” he calls out to her from a few feet away.

 “Living.”

 “You’re crazy,” he calls back, laughing as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

 “Maybe,” she smirks. She raises her arms and twirls around, allowing the puddles forming at her ankles to splash up onto the edge of her jeans. “Maybe I’m out of my mind,” she giggles. 

 “Well?” she smiles over at him. Her hair is now completely soaked and stuck to her face, while the raindrops roll off the sleeves of her leather jacket. “Are you coming?”

 He stares at her, completely wonderstruck and shakes his head. Stepping towards her, he reaches for the paper bag containing the bottle and takes a large swig. 

 “This is insane,” he tells her.

 “Aren’t all the best ideas?” she replies. 

 “They are,” he nods, extending a hand to her. 

 He places the bottle down on the road when she curiously places her palm in his and lunges forward to scoop her up and hoist her over his shoulder.

 She squeals when he lifts her and laughs as he struggles to adjust and balance her on his shoulder. 

 “Put me down,” she laughs. 

 “Nah,” he smirks. He twirls them around, splashing through a massive puddle. 

 “Jim Hopper put me down this instant,” she demands. The rain had soaked its way through his shirt and the cotton fabric was now clinging to his muscular shoulders beneath her. She pretends not to notice but her palm falls on his opposite shoulder as she tries to wriggle free and it’s nearly impossible to pretend she’s oblivious to his physique. 

 “As you wish,” he replies, helping her down and directly into a puddle. 

 He keeps his hold on her once her feet are planted in the puddle and pulls her body into his. The rain makes the space between them misty and flattens Hopper's hair onto his forehead. 

 It’s raining even harder now, making it nearly impossible to hear without screaming despite their close proximity.

 “Ready?” Hopper yells down at Joyce.

 “For what?” she calls back. 

 He raises their intertwined fingers above her head and twirls her beneath their connected arms before tugging her back towards them and dramatically dipping her and clutching at her waist. 

 Her laugh, deep and real as she dips back and her long dark hair nearly dips into a puddle, sends shock waves through him that make him want to dance in the rain with her until the day he dies. It was raw and magnetic, her laugh. He wants to make her laugh like this all the time. 

 He twirls her outwards once again, revealing in the way her laughter gets louder with each twirl. On the final spin, he attempts to bring her back towards him but the rain causes his hand to slip and he loses his grip on her. She spins back into his chest with impressive force for someone who was hardly 5’4 and places both hands on his chest which is hardly covered by his wet shirt. 

 With wide eyes and a massive smile, she looks up at him and blinks through the rain. The energy between them shifts from light-hearted and fun to electrified and unknowing in a matter of seconds and it sends an excited chill down Joyce’s arms. 

 Instinctually, he leans down and cups her cheek in his hand. He presses his lips against hers, using his palms to anchor her against his body while she rocks forwards on her toes to meet him halfway. 

 They stand there, embracing, in the center of the street illuminated only by the misty dull light shining down from the lamp post up ahead. The rain continues to come down hard, but it makes no difference to either of them. 

 Standing on her toes, Joyce leans into Hopper, whose hands hold her petite waist while their lips softly graze against one another’s. 

 She was right, she thinks to herself as she kisses him. All the best ideas were insane. This, standing in the middle of the road kissing her best friend in the rain, was insane. 

 But it was everything.

 This moment would be etched in her mind until the end of time, she was certain of it. Dancing in the rain beneath the streetlights, it was the type of thing you saw in movies, not something that happened in real life. And yet, it was happening. She was living in a moment that was too good to be true.

 He made her feel like she had everything.

 With each gentle brush of his lips against hers, her stomach flutters and she grows more convinced that maybe they did want the same things. 

 Pulling back, she blushes and looks away. She needed to be sure of his intentions and that was something that shouldn’t be decided on during a heat-of-the-moment kiss. If she wanted to, she could let herself fall for him. It would be terribly easy to fall for a man like Jim Hopper. But she would fall hard and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to pick herself up if he decided not to stick around to catch her. 

 She loved him. Unmistakably. Undoubtedly. But she needed to be sure that this, that she was it for him before she truly let herself fall. 

 “We should get you home before you catch a cold,” he says.

 “Alright.”

 “Wouldn't want to give you any more excuses to not go to the dance with me. Seeing as we just proved that you can dance.”

 “We wouldn’t want that, now would we.”

 “Does that mean you’ll go with me?” he asks hopefully.

 “No,” she laughs. “But nice try.”

 “I’m going to keep trying.”

 “I hope you do,” she tells him. It was the truth, she hoped he pursued their love story. 

 “Alright, grab that bottle and let’s go,” he smiles. Joyce walks back a few yards and retrieves their paper bag bottle. When she returns to Hopper, he takes her left hand in his and they begin the walk back to her house in the pouring rain, swinging their intertwined fingers between their bodies. 

 .

.

 “You’re late,” she smirks when she spots him ducking beneath the bleachers. “Mr. Cooper was just over here lecturing me.”

 Sitting with her back pressed against the concrete, she dangles a cigarette between her teeth and slides over to make room for him. He takes a seat next to her and plucks the cigarette from between her teeth, taking a long drag.

 “I was in class. Like you should have been.”

 “I thought we agreed to skip fifth and sixth.”

 “We did. But I had to run back to my car and grab something.”

 “Oh?”

 “This,” he says passing her a book, “is for you.”

 She accepts the novel and turns it over in her hand. It was an old copy of one of her favourites, but he knew she already owned multiple copies of it and the gesture confuses her. 

 “What’s this?”

 “Open it,” he instructs.

 Turning back the cover page, she notices he's placed two tickets for the dance inside the book. 

 “Hop,” she semi-groans and semi-smiles.

 “Let me take you to the dance.”

 “You’re relentless.”

 “Is it working?”

 “Maybe,” she flirts. “But try again.” 

 She pushes the tickets into his chest and steals her cigarette back. 

 “You’re cruel.”

 “Just trying to stay true to myself,” she reminds him. 

 “I love that about you, you’re you.”

 “I try to be.”

 The bell rings indicating the start of the next period and Joyce pushes herself to her knees.

 “Where are you going?”

 “I have a class to get to. It’s not my fault you took so long to get here.”

 “Skip it.”

 “It’s English. I like English.”

 “Lame.”

 “I’ll see you later. Thank you for the book,” she tells him. Leaning forward on her knees, she presses both palms to his chest and leans down to capture his lips in a surprise searing kiss. 

 When she pulls back and stands up, she notices he’s still rooted in his places, staring off into space completely dumbfounded.

 “Bye Hop,” she winks.

 He slips the tickets into his front pocket and stays sitting beneath the bleachers chain-smoking until school lets out for the day. 

.

.

The following afternoon, Joyce brings her homework into the backyard and props herself up on her usual branch to read. 

 She notices a pack of cigarettes next to her usual spot and picks them up to examine them. Turning them over in her palm she realizes that they must belong to Hopper. He was always smoking these god-awful unfiltered ones. 

 She wasn’t the biggest fan of them, often choosing to nag Hopper about his choice of smokes, but decides to light one while she reads and take advantage of the fact that he must have left them behind the last time he was up here.

 When she opens the package to retrieve one, a note falls out along with a ticket to the dance. Shaking her head with a chuckle, she picks up the note and unfolds it. 

 He was persistent, she had to hand it to him. 

 Leaning back against the bark of the tree trunk, she lights a new cigarette and places it between her teeth before she picks up the note and begins reading. 

Joyce, 

 There are a million reasons I think you should come to the dance with me, one of them is because I am absolutely crazy about you, but I’ll leave you with just this one reason. 

 I know you’re afraid that if this doesn’t work out our friendship will be ruined, but I promise you, we’re worth the risk. It’s like in that cheesy movie you made me watch a few months ago, where the main guy is trying to tell the girl that they should be together. You know at the end when the guy tells the girl that from that start, he just knew. I’m that guy, Joyce. I look at you and I just know. We’re meant to be together. You and me, we could be something. 

 So, this is me officially asking you to the dance. Not as my friend, but as my date. Because I want to date you. 

 Take the ticket and meet me outside the dance at 8:30 if you agree this is worth trying. I really hope to see you there.

   Hopper 

  Dropping the note to her lap, she pinches the bridge of her nose and reminds herself to breathe. In. Out. She’d never know Hopper to be a romantic, but this note and the words he’d crafted could only be described as such. 

 We’re worth the risk.

 She hears the words over and over again in her mind, the tone of his voice that she’d conjured up in her head soothing. 

 We could be something. 

 Breathe in. Breathe out. They could be. She knows it. If she let herself love him the way she knew she was capable of, she knew that nothing else in her life, no other connection, would ever compare. 

 Because I want to date you. 

 She gulps, fiddles with her thumbs and smiles. She wanted that too. As terrified as she was of taking this risk, Hopper’s ability to put himself out there, time and time again just to prove to her that he meant each word he said, gave her faith that she could push past her own fear. If he was willing to go through all of this just to show her how much she meant to him, shouldn’t she be willing to give him, them, a chance? 

 She wants to. My god, she wants to. 

 Give him a chance.

 Give them a chance.

 She wants more than anything to have the same amount of faith in herself that Hopper had in her. 

 If he was willing to go through so much effort to show her that he was serious about them giving a romantic relationship a chance, she should be willing to overlook the personal demons that plagued her and do the same. 

 Reading over the note again, she smiles to herself. This was really happening. They were going to give this a shot.

.

.

 Nervously, Hopper paces the length of the entrance. His dress shoes slap the battered pavement as he marches back and forth, hands pinned behind his back.

 He felt absolutely ridiculous in his powder-blue monkey suit with his hair groomed back. In one hand, he holds a cigarette. The other holds a box containing a corsage. 

 This was stupid. She wasn’t going to show up and he would be left standing out in the parking lot holding a box with a small flower, dateless. 

 Classmates arrive and enter the gym door behind him, some wave and tell him he looks nice but he doesn’t hear them. He’s too preoccupied wondering if she found the ticket he left for her. If she didn’t find it, would she show up?

 School dances had never been Joyce’s scene but this was different. He knew she was tempted to agree to go with him when he asked her the first time and again when he asked at the lake. He can’t blame her for being afraid. She didn’t have many constants in her life. 

 He intended on remaining one of those constants. 

 Something in him told him to have faith that she would come but with each passing minute his faith waivers. He wasn’t good enough for her. That much he knew. He was holding out hope that she was willing to give him a chance to try and be a man worthy of dating her. 

 He knew they were on the same page with their feelings. Though she hadn’t outright told him, he knew. It was written in her smile when he made her laugh, broadcast when she wrinkled her nose ever-so-slightly after kissing him and on full display whenever they accidentally touched. 

 Joyce had been jealous of Chrissy for all the reasons Benny once mentioned and had every right to be. He was an idiot for failing to realize what they had. Now, he just had to hope that he hadn’t realized too late. 

 He leans back against the wall next to the door, kicking his heel up to steady himself as he takes a long drag and exhales towards the sky. Pinching his eyes shut, he lets the sensation overcome him.

 “I hope you have a flask,” her voice rings through the parking lot. Hopper opens his eyes and finds Joyce standing a few feet in front of him. “Because I can’t do this shit sober.”

 She’s wearing a deep blue dress. It’s simple. Semi-puffy sleeves and a skirt that falls just below her knees, paired with her converse, of course. Joyce has her hair pinned back behind her ears where it falls over her shoulders. With red painted lips, she grins up at him and beams.

 “You look surprised,” she smirks.

 “I didn’t know if you’d come,” he admits. 

 “I considered staying home but someone left this,” she holds up the ticket,” for me and I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

 “Right,” he chuckles. Nervously, he steps towards her and reveals the box containing the corsage.

 “I thought you didn’t know if I’d come?”

 “I didn’t. I was being hopeful,” he tells her. “This is for you.”

 He opens the box and reaches for the small pale pink flower. Joyce extends her hand and lets Hopper slip the elastic band over her wrist. 

 “I wasn’t sure what colour your dress was but the women at the store said that this one was perfect for someone special.”

 “It’s beautiful,” she smiles. In awe, she stares down and admires it. No one had ever given her something so pretty. 

 “Should we go in?” he asks.

 “After you,” she beams, linking her arm through his elbow. 

 Arm-in-arm, Joyce and Hopper enter the school gymnasium which is covered in streamers and balloons. Though less extravagant than the prom set up, it looked nothing like the everyday gym and Joyce tenses at Hopper’s side.

 “Hey,” he smiles down at her reassuringly, “this is going to be fun.”

 The pair set off to the punch table where Hopper pours them each a glass of the clearly-spiked punch. They claim seats on the bleachers located on the far side of the gym and watch their classmates dance as they enjoy the bitter taste of vodka and powdered juice. 

 “So,” Hopper nervously claps his hands.

 “So,” Joyce echos. 

 “Is this awkward?”

 “The dance? Or?”

 “Us… being here together,” he explains. 

 “A little bit,” she admits. 

 “It doesn’t have to be weird. We can just act like we normally do.”

 “How do we normally act?’

 “Like us,” he beams. “Hopper and Joyce.”

 She rolls her eyes and laughs, “those are our names.”

 “You know what I mean. Come on,” he says, getting up and extending a hand to her. 

 “Where are we going?” 

 “Anywhere but here. This is extremely lame.”

 “Oh thank god. This is painful,” Joyce snickers. She places her palm in his and the two of them exit the gym and march back into the parking lot, hand in hand. 

 She notices a few of their classmates turn and stare while she and Hopper weave their way through the crowd towards the exit, no doubt whispering about their intertwined fingers but she doesn’t care. Let them talk, she thinks to herself. In fact, she would give them something to talk about. With a self-satisfied smile, she reaches over with her free hand and places it on Hopper's bicep with a squeeze. He leans into her in response and quickens the pace to the door. 

 “Where to?” she asks once they’re outside. 

 “Let’s start with a few of these,” he says, holding up a pack of cigarettes. He leads them through the parking lot to his car and leans against the hood while passing her an unlit cigarette. 

 “People are going to talk, you know,” she tells him.

 “About what?”

 “This,” she gestures between them. “Us. Being here together.”

 “Screw em. Let them talk all they want.”

 “You’re okay with that?”

 “If it means I get to do this,” he smirks and reaches for her waist. In one swift motion, he tugs her towards him, effectively trapping him between her knees and the car. “Then they can say whatever they want.”

 She shudders with anticipation and drops her cigarette when the last words roll off his tongue in a low, sultry tone. 

 “You were right,” she whispers. “It doesn’t have to be weird. It’s just the two of us.”

 “Exactly. Only now, I get to kiss you too.”

 “I don’t think we ever had a rule that said you couldn’t kiss me before,” she teases. 

 “Joyce,” he hums, drawing her in closer. 

 “Mhmm?” 

 “Just shut up and let me kiss you.”

 He leans down, hands planted on her hips, and brushes his lips against hers. Rocking forward on her toes, Joyce lets her body crash into his, anchoring one hand on his shoulder, the other on the car next to where he’s semi-seated. When Hopper reluctantly has to pull back and catch his breath, he rests his nose against hers and closes his eyes, desperately trying to remember everything about the moment. 

 Joyce initiates the next kiss and quickly their kisses grow sloppy and desperate. The gym door creaks open and a stream of students pour out into the parking lot, forcing the young couple to pull apart. Joyce props herself up against the hood of the car next to Hopper and asks him for a new cigarette, which he lights and hands to her. They joke about some of their clearly intoxicated classmates who have stumbled out of the gymnasium and Hopper places his arm around Joyce’s shoulders. When he’s certain the rowdy bunch hanging out near the door have returned to the dance, he leans over and steals another kiss. 

 “What was the for?” she laughs. 

 “Because I can.”

 “There you are!” Benny’s voice rings through the air. Hopper pulls his gaze away from Joyce and finds Benny staring at the two of them with a smirk. 

 “Oh, hey Joyce.”

 “Hi,” she waves. 

 “I wasn’t interrupting, was I?”

 “What do you want, Benny?” Hopper asks. 

 “Just wanted to see if you two wanted to join us for something to eat,” he informs them. His stare drifts down to where Hopper’s thumb is caressing Joyce’s shoulder and he adds, “unless you had other plans.”

 “I promised I would get Joyce home before curfew,” Hopper lies. 

 “Right,” Benny smirks, “Next time then. You look nice Joyce.”

 “Thanks. You too.”

 “You make sure to take care of my boy here,” he tells her. 

 “She always does,” Hopper says on her behalf. 

 “I’m sure she does,” Benny mutters beneath his breath. The comment earns him a glare from Hopper but Joyce doesn’t appear to have heard him. 

 “Anyways, I’ll let you two enjoy your night,” he waves. About damn time, he thinks to himself while he walks away. 

 “Hop, no one’s home. I don’t have a curfew?” Joyce looks at him confused. 

 “I know, but I don’t want to have to share you with anyone tonight. Now, you owe me a dance before we get out of here.”

 “I never said anything about a dance.”

 “One dance?”

 “Fine.”

 “Let’s go.”

 Back inside the gym, Hopper leads Joyce to the dance floor and places both hands on her hips. Following his lead, she clasps her hands behind his neck and lets him move them to the music. She’s vaguely aware of her classmates staring and buries her face in his neck to avoid their stares. 

 Their dance is far more intimate than anything Joyce has ever experienced and the feeling frightens her. As soon as the song ends, she panics and asks Hopper if he can drive her home. He nods and doesn’t press her for the reason. 

 He can tell her mind is racing on the drive home. She’s suddenly distant, staring out the window and fiddling with her thumbs. He reaches for her hand and gives her palm a gentle squeeze, his silent way of telling her that whatever it was that was bothering her wasn’t worth it. 

 When they arrive at her house, he cuts the engine and leans over to kiss her. Instinctually, she withdrawals and he pulls back looking hurt. 

 “Joyce? What’s wrong? What happened?”

 She’s quiet for a moment before she softly speaks.

 “Why?”

 “Why what?” he asks.

 “Why do you want this, me, so badly?” She’s voicing her insecurities and a huge part of him is grateful she feels comfortable enough to do so. 

 “Because I know you don’t want to believe this but you’re everything to me.”

 “Everything?”

 “Everything.” He nods.

 “Yes,” she says after a moment.

 “Yes, what?”

 “Yes, I’ll be your date to the dance.”

 “Are you feeling alright Joy? We just came from the dance.”

 “In your note, you said that you wanted me to agree to go to the dance with you because you wanted to date me,” she explains. “Doesn’t that mean if I agree to go with you I’m agreeing to dating you?”

 “But you already went to the dance with me,” he laughs.

 “Well then now I’m agreeing to the second part.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Yes.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Hop?”

 “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking before I change my mind.” 

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

[bmpmp3]

wait would u like some more hot (cold) love live takes? watch out.......

i understand why theyre releasing the aqours solo albums so far apart (gotta keep us wanting more and invested jkfehsfnjdnfds) and the birthday release dates are cute but GOD it is painful.....i want hanamarus so bad....yous.....maris.... yoshikos....kanans.... dias is coming but still.........we were spoiled with riko and ruby being right after eachother

this year has been kinda insane for love live releases tho like the first half of the year was a little slow but then they started banging out previews nonstop ITS TOO MANY GOOD TUNES....IM DROWNING IN GOOD TUNES like aqours pirates desire and the third nijigasaki album being some standouts but literally it was NONSTOP.,....hop stop nonstop you could even say

theres a lot of things i prefer about the anime versions of the characters compared to their beta counterparts like i love ruby in the anime compared to how she was originally conceptualized, but im still forever upset about how sidelined kanans relationship with chika and you was

also like most people im not the biggest fan of the you riko chika drama but it was honestly mostly because i was pissed that you never got to actually talk to chika about her feelings????? im glad nijigasaki recently did this properly (although we were waiting on the egde of our seats for a whole week there praying it wouldnt be written as bad as yous arc was jgkfdsmmdnfsm) but like damn i like the resolution between you and riko but i wanted you to talk to chika so badddddd please this is a franchise with a large emphasis on friendship let the friends talk things out

speaking of love triangles love live is the most aggressively queerbaity franchise in the world and i always feel bad when i see like younger or newer fans get excited at the possibility of anything actually being canon cause like itd be great!! i think its nice when girls are gay and in love. but alas this is an idol franchise whos primary purpose is marketing the idols as idols first and foremost and characters second, so i doubt it’ll go any further beyond subtext (although recent subtext has been Heavy.....its bordering on text hjerkfdsajfndkmsnfsds) or ill eat my hat qwq although to be perfectly honest if this franchise does make me eat my hat i will eat it gladly for the sake of girls being gay and in love

i will say tho the other day i was watching the live version of garasu no hanazono and like damn. these bitches gay.............. i always knew it was gay but like i never realized just how gay..............holy shit

oh also folks should appreciate nozomis solo of garasu no hanazono more it honestly is so good? nozomi’s voice can be a rough one for a lot of people to like (i love it and i like aina kusudas solo stuff tho so i may not be one to talk on this kfdmasns) but she sounds so good singing elis parts

most people get confused about the franchises attribute system which is understandable, i used to be confused too until i found it out it was not based off personality but actually on voice~ like personality wise you is definitely cooler and maybe smiley but shes pure because of her voice, like smile is typically mid ranged voices with a lot of expression, pure is higher and typically flatter or fuzzier, and cool is usually deeper with more emphasis on power

its not just based off the voice in a vacuum tho, its also relative to the other voices in the year group because for the past three groups (liella is a mystery and may break the mold being a five member group with only third years lol) theres only one of each attribute in each year group, so like compared to chika, you is pure because her voice is higher and while expressive, is less sorta, “giggly”? the sort of bubbly expression seen in other smiles like honoka and mari. but if you put you next to like, kanan, if they were in the same year group, you would most likely be smile compared to the pure kanan because of the flatter tone and higher pitch

things got a little squirrely with nijigasaki, the 2nd years are easy, the third years are mostly easy like emma and kanata have extremely similar voices in pitch and tone, and honestly kanata has more of the pure fuzziness and consistency, but its ever so slightly deeper so i think it makes sense.

NOW

THE 1ST YEARS.....

shizuku makes sense as cool obvs compared to the other two, her voice is simular in pitch to kanata but it can get pretty deep relative to the other two the focus is on power and a lower pitch

but WHY in gods name is rina smile and kasumi pure

WHAT dimension ARE they in where rinas more consistent and fuzzy voice is smile-er than kasumis high pitched nico esque bubbly voice....hell i think kasumis even just a hint deeper than rina.....whadda hell happened....what internal miscommunication caused this..............i know nobody cares but im a whore who loves formulas and im SADDENED by this BLATANT disregard of honestly kinda a fun little useless categorization qwq

wait want a ranking of the nijigasaki anime solos with full version? watch out heres my opinions

1. dream with you but specifically the version from the anime with the acapella openener 2. solitude rain!!! was hard to beat audrey but i think this is my favourite shizuku song its so good!!!!! 3. tsunagaru connect, i think it was written by deco 27? the vocaloid guy? that combined with the fact that every rina song is fantastic and good and the vocals are always great made this one one of my absolute favourites 4. butterfly!!!! i told u i liked cute references in lyrics....haruka kanata indeed 5. poppin up!!!! similar to rinas songs, i just really like all of kasumis songs and i love her voice a lot, i also like the retro sound and the drums~ 6. dive with you the actual version, its still very good!!! i just think it sounds so much better with the acapella opening lol 7. la bella patria, at first i wasnt as into this one, emmas one of my favourite voices in the franchise but at first it felt a little to generic, but when the full version came out it really grew on me and the bridge kinda ruled, plus emmas voice just sounds really good 8. saikou heart!! basically tied with la bella patria, i love ais voice and the hyper beat and the cute dance and the HIGH FIVE!!!! and the fact that ais personality is fun camp counselor, la bella patria beat it out ever so slightly with its bridge 9. vivid world~ havent had a lot of time to warm up to it but i like karins voice and its very catchy and fun, its been growing on me and i like the bridge, sometimes when im not feeling a preview and i hear the full one its the bridge that bumps it up fjdskajgnd 10. alas.....dive.........listen its fine....sometimes im really into dive!!!! sometimes i really like it....most of the time i forget what it sounds like kjrgtdeksafg to be honest one of the most important aspects of music for me is being able to remember it so if its not memorable enough for me i probably wont like it as much qwq i also found setsunas later solos a little harder to get into compared to chase....chase was such a hard act to follow up.....i think a big part of it is just how everything after chase has kinda been missing the vocal variety of chase? like yknow how she starts out soft and then sings with a whole lotta power later? i think the others maybe need a bit more of that....i do really like MELODY and like it love it has a fun chorus....maybe dive will grow on me like like it love it did......

excited for awakening promise, weve gotta wait like a month but its already really good and i love magical girl ayumu so mcuh ehjifjkfdsmds

i know its impossible and most likely what the last episode of the nijigaku anime will be is like one or maybe two group songs but god wouldnt it be wild if they fit like 2nd solos for all the other girls in there too.....i would shit

wait also one more thing. when will the full version of queendom be freed from the vault. i know the new character and the new sifas story episodes are controversal but also. that song bumps and i want it so bad

[solastia]

Author Interview : underthejoon

((If anyone wants to make a cool banner for this, please do. I suck at them))

Today is the debut of a new project. Whether it sticks around for long depends on you guys, but for now the plan is to interview one author a month. Creators are often underappreciated on here (or anywhere, for that matter), so this is me doing my part to connect our readers and writers in a meaningful way. Our first interview is with @underthejoon​, someone whose work I myself have enjoyed for many years now. If you enjoyed this interview, please be sure to send in authors you’d like me to talk to for future editions, as well as any specific questions you’d like answered (except for questions about updating, that will get you a ban). 

Where can your work be found?

I’m kind of a mess and so while I attempt to cross post, I’m not always great at it. All of my work can be found on my tumblr masterlist but some of my things are on Wattpad and AO3. I’m also underthejoon on both of those platforms.

Links to where readers can donate:

I made a ko-fi account ages ago that I never shared with the public because I’ve always felt guilty. Which is silly, idk why I do. But there it is!

Main bias (and why if you’d like) 

So!! I have always been a Namjoon bias. From the very first time I saw them/the very first song I heard I was like yes, you. You are the one, I’m a goner!! He’s so wonderful and unique. He’s very mindful and creative and such a beacon of light to me. Plus, he’s very open with his humanity, if that makes sense? Like he is open about his therapy, his feelings about his perceived shortcomings, his excitement about finding place and things and works of art that inspire him. ALSO THOUGH, in the last year or so I’ve also become a Hoseok bias. He is just so dedicated and loving. He’s insanely talented and vastly underrated, in my opinion. And through all the back breaking work, he is kind through and through. He’s seriously just so warm and makes me really happy.

Hogwarts House : 

Okay, the very first time I ever took it I was a slytherin. A few years later, I took it again and got hufflepuff. I like to think I’m a combination of the two but can see myself as more of a puff. 

Describe yourself in five words:

Creative, Extroverted, Empathetic, Intuitive, Inquisitive 

Current favorite BTS songs: 

SO MANY, but I’ll pick 7 for 7 members. Some of these are old as hell but still currently my favorite lol. Love Maze, Love is Not Over, Outro: Her, Dimple, Tomorrow, Like, 2!3!

What was the defining moment when you decided, “Yes! I am going to write the thing!”? 

For like fanfic in general? I feel like I had been reading a lot of it after “discovering” k-pop and then after a few months I was just like fuck it, I’m doing it!! I was always super into writing poetry and never thought I would be any good at anything like this but it sounded fun so here we are now. 

What do you most enjoy about writing BTS fanfiction specifically? 

I think it’s the community of writers. When I started my blog, I met a lot of really amazing supportive writers that I’ve managed to stay friends with and I think that makes a really big difference when you have people that can relate to you and what you’re doing.

Any tropes or au’s that you want to explore later? 

I would really like to try writing some sort of supernatural creature fics. I’ve had this werewolf love triangle universe planned out forever that I would like to eventually write. Maybe like a workplace romance? 

Which of your fics would you suggest for new readers? 

For a completed series i’d say Piece by Piece. My WIP series, Love is Not Over is another one. For a one-shot I’d say, For You. Maybe the sweetness/make it right drabbles too. 

Which of your fics is your favorite? 

Piece by Piece, no doubt. I really feel proud of it and I have a hard time admitting I like anything I write. 

What other fandoms do you wish you had the time to write for? 

I used to write for EXO, Got7 and sometimes Monsta X and I miss it sometimes but also, I feel pretty contented in just writing for BTS. There’s a lot of inspiration there and I always felt I was being pulled in too many directions by my readers when I wrote for multiple fandoms.

What are your writing goals for the upcoming year? 

I’d like to finish three series I have planned, get caught up on my collab fics and at least finish an outline for my original fiction piece I’ve been putting off!

Which writers do you read religiously? 

There’s so many amazing writers on tumblr and I try as hard as I can to keep up with my mutuals when they put stuff out but sometimes it’s hard! I’m gonna be really brief because otherwise my list could go on and on. Okay, first and foremost, Shanna (@kpopfanfictrash) - she’s my best friend and a fabulous, wonderful writer. I would just like to give her a special shout out because not only does she entertain me for hours with her writing, she is very supportive of mine. Other authors I adore as humans and content creators and keep up with most regularly are @floralseokjin and @lamourche !

What is the weirdest thing you’ve had to google in the name of writing?

LOL. Hmm… I’m really boring and feel like I don’t really google that much when writing except maybe like different sex positions when i need a visual or synonyms to certain words. I’ve found some good porn though? Because visuals do help me.

Reader/OC fics within this fandom are often still looked down on and we all have to work hard to make them good enough for readers to look past their reputation. How do you combat the cringe? 

TBH, I don’t think that responsibility lies on us as writers. If people don’t like certain types of writing, that’s on them and they can avoid it. Reader insert/oc fics are just as valid a genre as any. I’ve read some of the most beautiful, creative stories on this platform, some of which could be published if names were changed/reader was switched to a named OC. There’s something out there for everyone and it’s all subjective. While I might find certain things super cringey, others love it. To each their own as long as they aren’t shoving it in the faces of the people they’re writing about or being disrespectful, you know?

What is your personal guilty (or not-so-guilty) pleasure trope? 

MUTUAL PINING/FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I feel like it’s so basic but I fucking love that trope and I think so many people do it so beautifully it is my absolute favorite. 

What is something that you see often in other fanfics that drives you insane? 

I think the only thing that really bothers me is when people romanticize abuse or other toxic/triggering topics. 

Are any of the boys or ships more difficult for you to write than others? 

I think I have the hardest time writing for Jimin and Taehyung but only because I feel I am the most similar to them and for whatever reason that deters me from writing about them often.

We all think we are the most hilarious person there is (even if we won’t admit it), so what is one line or scenario of yours that you like to go back to and giggle over? 

Okay this was actually really difficult for me because I don’t write like any humor and don’t think I’m good at LOL. I think my only attempt at humorous writing was The New Guy in which the reader is high off her ass lying on the front lawn and thinking the world is ending then accusing Namjoon of being the Grim Reaper when he comes looking for her.

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO - A scenario as long or short as you want. Maybe 250 words or less. Godzilla is attacking the city and BTS is your rescue crew. How screwed are you? 

“D-danger, you say?” Seokjin stutters.

“G-giant lizard monster headed this way?” Hoseok chokes. 

The pair exchange glances then turn their focus towards you. Seokjin jerks his head towards the door and you nod in return. 

“I hear what you’re saying, gentlemen,” Hoseok says as he stands on shaky legs. He grabs your hand as if to instruct you to do the same. 

“And as much as we would LOVE to help you…” His grip is tighter now and you know what comes next. 

Before he can finish, Seokjin shoots up from his chair and makes a mad dash towards the door. “Now, now, run, holy shit, NOW!”

Hoseok joins his friend in his haste to evacuate, dragging your nearly petrified form behind him. “No way in hell are we getting anywhere near that thing!”

Seokjin and Hoseok babble horrified nonsense between them but you can’t really decipher much of it. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you replay the name “Godzilla” in your brain.

They wanted you to rescue the city? What were they thinking?

When you reach Seokjin’s car, you have a brief moment of clarity. There are lives at stake, after all. How can you really just abandon the city when it needs a hero?

“What about everybody else?” you ask, voice small and fearful.

“Everybody else?” Seokjin huffs, putting the car in gear. He hardly gives your question a thought before he peels out of the parking lot. “Jungkook can handle everybody else. I raised him on my back, you know? It’s the least he can do!”

[noddytheornithopod]

Holy shit my thoughts on Mind over Mutant got surprisingly complicated so uh here’s a massive discussion under the cut, lol.

Out of all the main post Naughty Dog games... this might be my favourite after all? It’s far from perfect, but I think I had the most satisfying experience overall.

To start, visually everything looks pretty good. Granted I’m using the PS2 version which has a few visual bugs because it was designed for Wii and X360 graphics more, but generally I like how it holds up? Shame 360 emulators aren’t a thing as of now, and I’m not buying some old console just for one game, lol. Speaking of PS2, there’s no Coco option because apparently her moves were too complex for the system, RIP.

To start... yes, fuck the backtracking. It’s perfectly reasonably why this pisses people off. For me, it’s mainly the transition between Wumpa Island and the Ratcicle Kingdom since you have to go through AND back twice, with little variation. Other paths at least have you only needing to retread once for the story or there’s a new extra path in it that unlocks. At least some of the enemies change up I guess? But honestly, I think what bugs me more is that it’s not exactly consistent in its implementation. Because for a while, yeah you’re going back and forth retreading old ground, but then you get the key for the Junkyard on Wumpa Island and you’re just teleported to the Junkyard gate. Same thing happens when you get the Uka Uka bones. And of course, there’s the teleporters to find said bones, which is kind of striking a middle ground. Basically... it’s kinda inconsistent. Tedious when it is, but when you suddenly start to get used to it, you’re given massive leaps lol.

There’s stuff from Titans that was changed that I don’t really understand why? For example, the block with Crash no longer has a dodge, and dodging is now purely responding to mutant attacks. I like the addition to help even out things between Crash and mutants, but why no dodge normally? There’s no board sliding anymore, nothing calls for it obviously so it may have been pointless but it is kinda funny. Also Crash’s glide is replaced with the spin drill, which of course has its uses, but I miss having that glide too (you could have both, maybe the drill is by holding square or even pressing triangle, IDK).

On the topic of Crash, I kinda feel like Crash’s gameplay is oddly sidelined? I think it’s because of the mutant storing. Even if there’s less combat, much of the platforming now uses the mutants, and because there’s only some sections where you have to be Crash, it means you end up being Crash rather sparingly unless you really want to stick to him. Like, mutant storing is a good idea and works with the kind of game, but compare to Titans where even if it was more combat focused, the fact you had to use Crash in more parts meant you end up playing as him more than this game, and thus it feels like he has more of a presence with his own move set.

The combat felt off at first, but I ended up realising it’s because I became used to the Titans system... to start, it’s less intense and slower paced. You’re rarely gonna be swarmed so you actually have a chance against enemies. There’s also the mutant mojo upgrades, which means your mutant actually grows stronger with each upgrade, making combat different each time.

I like how they use mojo... for the most part. I like that the mutants can now be upgraded, and Crash of course grows stronger. My one reservation is that the upgrades don’t feel that diverse? In Crash’s case it’s probably because he keeps most of his moves from Titans, but still, only strength and spin upgrades isn’t the most exciting. Same with the mutants, getting stronger and the occasional special attack boost is cool, but it’s not the most exciting. I guess I need to view it like a Ratchet and Clank situation, because that’s what this is more like... including the multiplier. Including a multiplier with your combo level to make mojo worth more helps a lot with upgrading.

Because mutant gameplay is now more diverse instead of just a few classes that do their job, it also comes across as more inconsistent? I like that there’s improvements like them being able to jump now and more attack variations eg from when you block or jump and hit attack, but I also find some of it a bit awkward. Like, many of these attack variations are cool, but the tutorials give fuck all clues to them, so it’s hard to figure everything out.

For example... seriously, it took me ages to figure out how to use the TK in combat. TK is a pretty fun mutant, but until you figure out how to shoot and combine attacks with their telekinesis, you’re gonna be stuck to slow heavy attacks and awkwardly throwing enemies around.

I also find the Rhinoroller awkward. Because of the new moveset compared to Titans, it’s on one hand less slow, but on the other, it can get pretty annoying to control.

Ratcicle feels kind of overdeveloped. They can freeze stuff AND surf on shallow water. I mean, it’s great, but it kinda makes the other mutants look less exciting, lol. But yeah, one of the best mutants in this game because they definitely thought of much.

There’s a few mutants that are fun to play as like Spike, Sludge, and Battler, but unless you go outside the main story, they don’t really feel like they have much of a presence. The introduction pacing feels off, basically.

Snipe and Stench are back as ranged mutants. Snipe suddenly gets an upgrade and is pretty fun to play. Stench I’m not so crazy about, like now their special attack isn’t ranged anymore so that kinda messes up the gameplay with them, and while the fire rate is improved from Titans, every now and then they do a reload animation which I assume was meant to add detail, but all it does is slow the gameplay down and make the rhythm of firing off.

Magmadon is around, and while they aren’t underused, I do think it’s a bit of a missed opportunity with this game’s increased platforming focus that it doesn’t have any fire/lava abilities. There’s only one place that’s too hot for other characters and thus making them necessary too. Like, imagine if you could use it to melt through ice or even metal, eg a door that must be melted down to progress. Sludge’s shrinking ability is only used like two or three times (and I think only one is mandatory), so I think there’s missed opportunities there too. The shapeshifting and extendable arms stuff could’ve made for some cool mechanics. Adding more platforming abilities for mutants might overcomplicate the game of course, but... still. Especially with Sludge, give them some more use, even for secrets and such. Speaking of secrets... Spike needing to use the special attack on that one spiky part on the way to Mt Grimly is pretty random, huh?

Scorporilla and Yuktopus serve their role as the massive powerhouses (and Scorporilla even gets a beefed up melee combo), though I must admit it’s odd Yuktopus is now demoted to a regular enemy/sub-boss class (seeing two in the minigames was surreal when I was young lol). And I mean, random changes in design and stuff is something I find odd in general. I mean, the returning mutants mostly have improved designs, but for others I’m not as sure on, eg Rhinoroller looking less rhino-y, and Sludge suddenly being a boar instead of an frog or chameleon or whatever it was in Titans. Guess some is NV mutations but whatever, lol.

On the topic of enemy design, one thing I miss from Titans is the colour and outfit variations. Maybe they had less time to do it and at least the single models they get look good, but still, it’s a shame. We do get the hero mutants, but the PS2 version fucks up their looks for some reason, lol (and for some reason their mojo upgrades separately from the standard of their species, which is weird, especially since it’s not counted in the game’s completion).

Grimlys are cool, probably my favourite mutant in the game. Kinda funny how they don’t have a block and instead a lock on function, but it makes sense given they’re meant to be used faster than other close range mutants. But yeah, time slowing is so cool it’s even back in Crash 4 with one of the new Quantum Masks. Really helps you rake up that combo count to get all that mojo too.

The minions are... interesting. They mostly do their job, but then suddenly you have Doom Monkeys and Znu that have these massive stun attacks that can get annoying if there’s a lot of them. Slap-Es can block but as long as you’re not Crash they’re as quick as any others. The Doom Monkeys are less annoying in speech too, thankfully.

I get a few audio bugs. Most annoying of which is being unable to hear enemy conversations. But sometimes I just got sound effects cut out for no reason. On the inverse... some of the mutants are very noisy and need to shut up. Aku Aku also sometimes adds commentary when unnecessary, making him feel a bit handholdy. Yes, I’m going to the damn roller village, be patient, dude.

Probably the thing to impress me most revisiting the game is actually the continuity and worldbuilding. I mean, to start, you have all the mutants becoming free and forming their own societies, only for the NVs to turn them into evil warriors again. Said societies are pretty interesting as well.

Wumpa Island is mostly the same (sans all the stranded Ratinicians gone wild lol), but then you have the Ratcicle Kingdom. A Kingdom formed mostly out of ice, and also near Cortex’s evil public school. Nothing like this was in Titans, so was there always a cold part of Wumpa Island, or did the concentration of Ratcicles allow them to make enough ice to form a cold climate and society despite this being tropical nearby? All the designers and stuff are cool, and some of the characters are quite peculiar (I love that one masochist Ratcicle lol).

Then there’s the Ice Prison and Evil School. IDK how the Ice Prison was made, but it seems like it’s Cortex’s doing since the Brat Girls run it AND Evil School (while also being students?). As one of those lore junkies that headcanons Wumpa Island is the second island from the original Crash games, this fits oddly well, because in Twinsanity Cortex suddenly has a massive floating Iceberg lab. Maybe Cortex also made the school and prison nearby, and the Ratcicles took their Wumpa Island residence and connected Cortex’s base. Yeah, I’m getting crazy with my speculation, but the game letting you fuel this is fun. Also cool how the Brat Girls leave Nina after she loses in Titans and end up as Cortex’s grunts, ironically.

The Wasteland seems new, and I assume it’s the evolution of the Lumberyard from Titans. We also have rhinoroller elders even if it’s only two years of existing lol.

The Junkyard is apparently born out of the remains of N Gin’s weapons factory (I heard somewhere the Weapons factory was apparently on N Sanity Island but IDK if that was ever confirmed, it makes more sense it was on Wumpa Island TBH but if it was imagine all that junk moved there lol, TBH Cortex Island could work for the weapons factory too, it would make things less cluttered and it’s possible there’s still unpolluted beaches but whatever). It’s a pretty cool setting, and the Doom Monkeys being in the remains of their old location but under new leadership (and somehow with rockets removed from their heads... maybe they were merely aesthetic? lol) is nice continuity. Judging from the concept art it also seems to be around that volcanic area in Titans, which makes sense given that had more machinery.

Mt Grimly is completely new. Surprisingly it’s not an evolution of the Uka tree (though there is one creepy tree place with the hero Grimly on Wumpa Island), and as a result it’s much harder to work into my 2nd island headcanon (I mean, at least that island always had a giant tree lol). Cool location, but unfortunately we don’t really learn much about its normal state compared to the other worlds, unless it’s permanently inhabited by evil dudes, lol. Also I still wonder what the heck the Znu and Grimlys are. Are the Znu supposed to be the same thing as Grimlies? Are the Grimlys NV transoformed Znu??? Who knows.

Even the changing enemies in revisiting locations relates to the story. For example, the sludges in the Junkyard will say how Slap-Es and Stenches have appeared from “the sky”. Besides random occasional appearances from different mutants in various locations, you also have the Znu and Doom Monkeys moving out of their home levels to the previous ones after you make it through said levels the first time. I’m very perplexed by the sudden increase of Battlers when you revisit evil school and the ice prison paths though... either they’re also favourites of Cortex, or the Brat Girls disappointed Cortex after he saw Crash break into school and Nina helped him and he... used NVs on them to make new Battlers. Other stuff like Snipes in the Wasteland because of the Snipe hero are clear enough, but this one is... interesting.

There are some inconsistencies that bug me though. For one, it feels like nobody acknowledges Cortex’s blog video. Aku Aku acts surprised that N Brio is back and working with Cortex, and later wonders how Brio gets dark mojo even though Cortex explicitly says he’s using Uka for that. IDK, I guess Aku Aku doesn’t like watching internet videos and expected Crash and Coco to do everything, lol (I mean, he doesn’t really acknowledge it after watching anyway). Also a bit confused on how evil school works... it’s implied the Brat Girls are the main students, especially when one NPC says it’s all girls, but the intro video includes all genders and shows non-Brat Girls so... something’s up (maybe the NPC misheard or the ad was lying and only had girls because EVIL). Also apparently there’s another evil school somewhere besides Madame Amberly’s (is it also public? how is it public, is there a government funding these evil schools? did Cortex declare some regime?).

The humour and cutscenes are mostly pretty fun and there’s many funny moments. There are a few jokes that are... questionable at best (Uka I know you’re evil, but you don’t need to be ableist), and some of it probably seems outdated, but I actually appreciate most of it. The 2D cutscenes in different styles simulating changing channels like you have an NV is cool and has some pretty fun jokes with them, though it does suck you don’t see some character models well if at all as a result. The whole satire of consumerism and the latest tech fads was a nice addition (between this and the different mutant powers and stuff, it’s almost a classic Ratchet and Clank type game), not to mention wild stuff like evil recycling (and I mean, green movements ARE co-opted soooo) and many edgy but still mostly jokes I doubt would pass today.

Bosses are fine. Cortex was fun, but Coco was too easy (plus she’s freed from NV control a bit too soon, they could’ve saved her for the Ice Prison or even Evil School or something to raise the stakes, I mean if you’re not gonna fully commit to playable Coco then you may as well go the N Tranced route). Crunch wasn’t as hard as I remember, in fact he was kinda underwhelming. If anything the Scorporilla and Yuktopus acting as sorta sub-bosses in-story were better fights than saving the bandicoots (also one of the sludges says Crunch is Crash’s brother... confirmed?). Also small nitpick but why doesn’t Coco have her evil model in the enemy profiles, even as she has her boss lines?

Music is legit one of my favourite soundtracks in the series, Marc Baril doesn’t get enough credit. He manages to have such a range and it all works so well even as it has a distinct and fitting style.

Voodoo doll collecting is more involved which is cool, and there’s also golden wumpa now serving as health upgrades because we don’t have lives anymore. Yeah, Titans and MoM did gold wumpa first, not CTR:NF and Crash 4. At this rate I wouldn’t be surprised if it showed up even earlier. Minigames are optional too which means less stress for 100% completion, though there’s also the arena minigames (oh hey, more Ratchet and Clank similarities), and they unlock enemy skins... unfortunately unlike Titans which had skins for every enemy, there’s only a few skins here (one for each world’s games), which is disappointing.

Anyway... yeah. Mind over Mutant isn’t as polished as Titans and is a bit messy and inconsistent in some places (most likely because this game has less time than Titans), and some of the backtracking is tedious, but in general I had a pretty good time with it, and was actually pleasantly surprised by some things.

[makapatag]

ANG ANTINGERO AT ANG MANANANGGAL NG PANTALAN

Wherein one exploit of the feared Antingero Miguel Nagbulan is recounted by himself to his close friend and writer Alfonso Valarao, who has written this tale and given it to the publishers of the Empire.

Long live and beautiful day! These greetings I give to the people that will read the following tale. It recounts the great adventure of the Antingero Miguel Nagbulan in his time in Barangay Pantalan, in the island now known in the 116th Year of the Pearlescent Empire as the Island of La Abhorra.

#

The story begins when our Antingero hero—ah, he tells me his no hero, but I am a writer, and by virtue of writing, I must embellish the uh, shit and polish the gold. Ha?—of course I won’t go overboard with the embellishments! The craft of a true writer is balance. Anyway.

It begins with our Antingero hero, Miguel Nagbulan, as he crested a low hill, which was flanked on both sides by bamboo and large trees. The slow trickle of a stream encircled his arrival. It was as if nature itself, that greatest temple in the world, opened her gates to reveal the barangay on the other side.

Our Antingero hero blinked, revealing a slight wrongness in his eyes. Bloodshot, yet the color of night. His face was shaded from the afternoon sun by a simple hardwood salakot, sure to defend from the sharpest of blades. Upon his horse, he had hooked up several rattan bags, each one containing his provisions for his travel.

Travel from the southern port and to the inland barangay had been a dangerous one. Tulisanes abounded, bandits who fight for the freedom of the people from the opressive Empire. Our Antingero hero sympathized with their plight, but in the rising age of mercantilism and because the magical power imbued upon that magical item that is called coin, he was forced to keep up his lonely job.

Of course, his job is not one that many would’ve wanted to have. In truth, it cannot be considered a job in the slightest. The Empire itself does not consider the Antingero a job. It considers them a necessity. One of those necessities one must have but might not want, like wax scrubs. Or baths.

I jest, antingero. We all bathe in the Isles. Only the damned colonizers didn’t.

But I digress.

Our Antingero hero nudged the horse forth. “Come on, Tahimik.” His voice, when he spoke, was soft and sonorous, the timbre of an academic and a poet, a spokesman and a politician. One might be wondering what such a beautiful voice is doing spoiling it all away by becoming a vagabond.

But as our Antingero hero passed a great mango tree, its branches spread out as if to catch the heavens, he remembered why. Around the tree were gravestones—not very neatly kept, but functional enough. The gravestones were simple ones, and had writing etched upon their heads as a remembrance to their family. Surrounding the cemetery were great jackfruit trees, coconuts, narras, and bamboo.

The sun seemed to shine down upon a single man, kneeling before a single gravestone. He wore a simple necklace adorned by a simple upside-down five-pointed star: the holy symbol of Dyosveta. More importantly, around his wrist was wrapped a rosary, and as the man rose and walked away, he recited his prayers, counting off each bead with every step.

Deaths of natural death or deaths because of violence or any non-strange phenomenon was always mourned once, and then celebrated at every anniversary. Deaths caused because of supernatural phenomena, however, were not celebrated. If one were to visit the grave of one who suffered that death, it is mandatory for you to pray the First Decade of the Rosary, else you be the next sufferer of the death.

Antingeros, although not exactly some kind of monster hunter and more of a warrior, have lately become the most popular person to deal with such supernatural phenomena. Their knowledge of orasyones, the invocations, as well as their multiple magical charms, called Anting-Antings, for which they are named, and usually pragmatic knowledge of monstrous beasts have become the leading cause of this phenomenon.

Of course, since the Empire and the Church denounce them, stating that they are “no-good rebels and terrorists”… they have been given the dirty eye and the curse of being “aswang”, monsters, even as they help.

The man that prayed the rosary? When he saw the Antingero upon his horse cantering down the bridle path, he immediately averted his eyes and looked away, and quickened his walking. Usually the antingero would’ve been showered with such gracious and pious words such as “Rebel, terrorist, salot, monster, fiend, devil!” but the man could not break from praying the First Decade.

The Antingero guided his horse down into the baragay, which had a single main road cutting through its middle, and with both north and south ends of the barangay having arches that read “Welcome to Barangay Pantalan!” in the front and “Thank you for coming, see us again!” in the back.

Once inside the barangay, only then was he showered by the expected “praises”.

A young boy immediately turned his eyes away when he accidentally kicked his rattan ball over to Miguel’s direction. He and his friends looked at each other, said “terrorist!” and they immediately ran away.

A labandera, a woman carrying a wooden tub filled with her laundry, sneered at him and muttered “What a maniac!” as she passed by.

Another man trotted his horse quicker when he passed by Miguel, muttering “aswang” under his breath.

Two men wearing white shirts and red pants stared at him from afar, talking lowly enough so only they can hear themselves. But Miguel knew what kinds of things they were saying. He didn’t need to hear them. He’s heard it a lot before.

He cantered his horse over to where the nearest inuman, or drinking place, was. He found it not too long enough, since it was the only place not as crowded in the day. A simple hut with cogon grass roots and bamboo walls upon bamboo stilts. A wooden sign, written in the Shore Script, the official script of the Empire, said: “Aling Nenang’s Eatery.”

There were still people there, of course. There were around four tables laid outside, with some men drinking from wooden cups on one of them. Within there were sure to be more.

Miguel dismounted from his horse and tied him down to a nearby fence. Then, avoiding the gaze of the staring men—who were buff with their years of working in the fields—he entered into the drinking place, climbing up the wooden chairs and arriving at the small porch. By the side of the doorway was a porcelain vase filled with water. Miguel removed his boots and washed his feet, letting the water sift through the bamboo slat floor. As he dried his feet, he heard conversation from within. That the store wasn’t helping pay enough to cover for their fees and taxes, since everybody incurred beer debt and no one paid their dues. The voice was from a young woman speaking with a man.

He laid the boots beside the rest of the slippers and footwear and entered.

Now would be a good time, I think, to recount what our dear antingero was wearing during that time. He tells me that he wore a bamboo breastplate, called a pakil-kawayan, over a thickly- and tightly-braided abaca cord mail known as a barote, with an abaca undershirt underneath that reached his knees, called a habay-habay, in the style of the footsoldiers of the Empire. However, he wore no gauntlets nor gloves, and the sleeves of habay-habay only reached his elbows. Instead, he wore numerous bangles and bracelets, each one adorned by some divine or blasphemous image, or made of gold, or actual rosaries made from the bones of saints. Over it all he wore a straw rain cape which formed a triangle from his shoulders. His anting-anting, all ten of them, hung from his neck, but he concealed them within his habay-habay.

And, of course, he wore the salakot to protect his head, but he removed that as he entered into the eatery.

The eatery was mostly, with wide open windows letting air flow. A short-haired girl sat on a counter that lay infront of an annex, presumably where the kitchen is, wearing a baro’t saya get up: a blouse and a skirt. Par for the course for country girls. Stray strands of hair matted to her lightly sweating forehead, and her eyes had severely dark bags under them, as if she hadn’t slept in three days. When she heard the antingero walk in, she said, “Ah, welcome, ginoo.”

Miguel nodded at her. “Beer.”

“Bucket?” she asked, wiping he forehead with her panyo, or silk handkerchief. Miguel shook his head, and put up a finger to indicate that he only wanted one. She nodded, walking into the annex.

When Miguel had settled on a chair and bench on the corner, she was there with him, putting the bottle down. He smiled and nodded, and placed three silver pieces on the table. The girl nodded in return and picked up the pieces, before leaving. As the girl left, Miguel removed his salakot and placed it beside him. As he did, his eyes met with one of the many men eyeballing him. There were some women also sitting around, eating lugaw, or rice porridge, using a pamaypay, or a hand fan made of buri leaves, usually crudely done, to cool themselves.

Miguel averted his eyes, awkwardly.

It was at this time that Miguel had pulled out a pocket journal and had begun writing in it, using a quill and a crude inkwell in a wooden container, sealed tight with resin. He wrote the things that happened in his journey: his quick encounter with the tulisanes, who had let him go when he revealed that he was an antingero, as well as the small pig that he had to kill to get some meat for the journey. The random river where he got his water, and the one that struck out to him the most: the wooden spirit house that was now dilapidated and abandoned. He remembered then the stories from his grandparents, how during in the past these spirit houses were given to revere the nature spirits, but now not many people do it, for they believe Dyosveta to be the only god worth worshipping.

Every time they would end one of their stories about this past, they would end it with the chilling, “Now the nature spirits have abandoned us in turn.”

It wasn’t long before the scant number of men and women and children that sat around the small eatery were looking at him weirdly. Perhaps it was too early for beer, but in truth that never stopped him before. He contemplated on ordering some breakfast, some tapa with rice would do, when one of the men stood up. He tried his best not to freeze like some cat suddenly caught sneaking. He had left most of his weapons back in his cart, his bolo hung from his horse, and so did his arquebus.

The man did approach him, wearing the telltale white polo buttoned-down and red pants rolled up to above the shin of a farmer. No straw hat, but he did have with him a horribly smug demeanor. “Hoy, antingero.”

Miguel sighed through his nose. He drank another swig of his beer and looked up, raising an eyebrow. Miguel wore his curly black locks proudly.

“You think we like what you’re doing, huh?” asked the man, putting both hands on the table and leaning on it, nodding and grinning. “You think we approve of rebels, eh? You know that the Empire’ll smite ya? All we need is to go over to the kota.”

Miguel nodded, managing a slight smile. “I don’t want any trouble, ginoo.”

“Oh, of course you don’t. But then suddenly, you’ll attack innocent settlements and steal their goods and indoctrinate the good people to your cause, eh? We don’t need your stupid ideologies. We need the Empire to thrive.”

Miguel shook his head. “I’m not here to do politics.”

“Ah. So what are you here for?”

“I’m just passing through.”

“And where you headed?”

“To Pinagsama, ginoo,” said the antingero. “The city where all meet.”

“Ah, you’ve got a date there or something? Your nobya?”

Miguel gave the lightest of shrugs. “You could say that, ginoo.”

“Well, we don’t need any more seperatists, you got that?” The man spat on Miguel’s rain cape. “Your no value ideologies aren’t welcome here in Pantalan.”

Miguel sighed and nodded as the man walked back to his friends, muttering and talking with them. They were grinning, smiling, rolling their eyes.

Miguel looked down on his beer, and took another drink. Three-fourths of the way through, that breakfast sounded good.

Miguel was about to raise his hand to call for the young girl over the counter, but stopped himself midway through just as a woman burst in through the doors. Wearing a simple maroon skirt and blue shirt, her hair stuck up everywhere, frazzled. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide, and she was gripping her stomach. The woman had strangely sharp features, and wore gold necklaces and bracelets. Miguel wondered if she was principalia. “Aling Nenang!”

The girl behind the counter looked up. “Binibini Zeny?”

“Dayang, iha, where is your Aling Nenang? I need her help, please!” And the rest of the people in the eatery were on their feet, helping her to sit down and rest and lie and tell her tale. She was crying, or had been, with her cheeks glistening with tears.

Dayang had walked into the annex and come back out with a middle-aged lady, who rushed over to the woman, who had been named Binibining Zeny. “Zenaida, what happened? What’s wrong? What happened to your baby?”

“Oh, Aling Nenang,” and she wept. “Oh, my baby. My love! He has been removed from me, he has been eaten away from me! What a curse, what a horrible bleeding affront by the Devil!�� And she wept all the more, and the people in the eatery comforted her by rubbing and patting her shoulders softly, and crooning with comforting words.

“How could you have miscarried? You were bearing a healthy child….” Aling Nenang placed a hand upon her belly, and shook her head. “Hay, what a tragedy, my binibini. Your child has been eaten.”

“Was it the manananggal?”

Miguel stared at his beer bottle.

“It is maybe so,” said Nenang. “Oh what a tragedy. Even within your stone house, your bahay-na-bato, you have been struck! Even with your tiled roofs and capiz shell windows! The monsters know now boundary.” And there was an uproar, even as the Binibini cried. “Come, let us return you to your father the Kapitan.”

Miguel sighed at this point, and I am with giddiness and excitement to tell you that he did, in fact, step in. He put his salakot on to maintain a sense of mystery—I tell you our antingero is a man of exquisite theatrics—and said: “You need a demon slayer?”

The people around him stopped, and stared at him with evil glares, as if he was anathema. But then, after a moment they all looked at each other with doubt. None of them knew truly about the malevolent spirits and creatures that abounded the Isles, and the antingero were known to be either experienced or educated about them, or at least some of them, for the creatures evaded taxonomy, and each one was a demon to each island.

Aling Nenang rose to her feet. “You’re an antingero, yes?”

Miguel nodded once.

“But you work for coin.”

“Aye. Sometimes shelter. Antingero are not well received, you know.”

“Well you know what they say, Aling Nenang,” spoke one of the farmers again. “It takes an aswang to know an aswang.”

Aling Nenang ignroed the raucous laughter that erupted from that quip. She bit her lip and then said: “Come with me to the kota, where the Kapitan is. Perhaps he is willing to pay you in exchange for your expertise.”

Miguel nodded again. He hadn’t wanted to, but his greater sense of justice and altruism got the best of him—he told me this, not me. Anyway, he rose from his seat, finished his beer, and then gestured for Aling Nenang to lead the way. Aling Nenang did, bringing with her the weak and sleep-deprived Binibini. The men and farmers gave him a wide berth, still eyeing him with disdain.

Miguel, with his horse Tahimik in tow, followed after Aling Nenang. They walked over the dirt path to the middle of the village, where stone walls over 15 feet tall that had stone arches for openings protected the richer families within. This was the fort, or in the local tongue, the kota, where most of the rich live.

“Sorry for the trouble, by the way. I heard Tonyo scaring you over there.”

“Ah, it’s all right. I get it all the time.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Miguel snorted. “Never expected sympathy.”

“Well, I sympathize with the rebels and the pulahanes and the tulisanes.”

“You do? Even as they plunder and terrorize your villages?”

“I’ve heard what they do,” Aling Nenang said, still guiding the binibini along. “They’re only forced into such violent confrontation becaese the Empire refuses to acknowledge them, and the Emperor specifically likes killing them to strengthen his power.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“I was supposed to join them, when I was younger,” said the Aling Nenang. “But I decided against it, since I had a baby.”

“Oh? Was that the girl in the counter?”

Aling Nenang nodded. “She’s a good girl, even without a father. Devout, pious, easygoing. I’m one of the lucky ones, too. The Manananggal of Pantalan has been terorrizing our barangay for as long as I can remember. Even when I was pregnant, I went to sleep at night fearing this.”

“You weren’t attacked?”

“No,” said Aling Nenang, as she looked over to the glass-eyed Binibining Zeny. “I might’ve been lucky.”

“Do you have an albularyo here?”

Aling Nenang nodded. “A bit of a ways north, by the border of the forest. I spoke both with him and with our priest.”

“That explains it. Did you follow what the albularyo said?”

“Well, I followed both. I hung a buntot-pagi, a stingray tail, by the door and scattered salt around my house, and also prayed the rosary and placed the pentacle upon my door.”

Miguel snorted. “Following both. Good choice.”

“Is that why I wasn’t attacked?”

Miguel shook his head. “The monsters of the Islands don’t care for the Dyosvetan religion. To them, Dyosveta is just another bathala, another god in the pantheon of nature. Another sky god. Dyosveta might be powerful, but some creatures can ignore him. However, they cannot ignore their nature.”

“The buntot-pagi.”

“Yes. What else can you tell me about this manananggal?”

Aling Nenang licked her lips. “You could always ask the Kapitan, you know.”

“I put more trust in the words of the common folk than the nobility,” said Miguel. “The nobility, within their stone kota, can be separated from it all sometimes.”

“I guess you’re right. Well, the Manananggal has been around, like I said, for many years. Some say since the birth of Pantalan, a few hundred years ago when we were still a colony of Ysparanza. Others say the Manananggal changes every decade, and each Mananaggal was different, that some of them are kind.

“But one thing was for sure with the Manananggal of the past: they almost never attacked those within the kota.”

“Hm.” Miguel stopped and tied Tahimik down to a nearby fence right before they crossed a stone bridge over a moat. The kota was not grand, but it did its job. Moss and dirt and time had claimed the walls. “So the principalia never followed the albularyo, did they?”

“Perhaps some, but definitely not most.” She clicked her tongue, looking down at the Binibini. “Definitely not dear old Zenaida.”

Two armored guardsmen, known as kawal, stood on both sides, arquebuses at the ready. They gazed sharply at Miguel, their mouths in a strictly neutral line. “Beautiful morning to you, ginoo. We bring with you the Binibini, who must see a physician as quickly as possible.”

The kawal took another look at Miguel. “And the antingero?”

“I bring him with me for I believe he can help us with our manananggal problem.”

One of the kawal gestured for the other to frisk the antingero, and they did. However, they found no weapons upon the antingero, save for his anting-anting, and so they let him through. He, once again, left his armaments back on his horse.

“You may pass.”

“Thank you, ginoo.”

#

Past the walls, within the kota, the streets were wide and paved with red stone. Palm trees were set up all around, not as natural edifices but as decorations for the nobles to gawk at. The few houses that were by the gate were already beautiful: exquisite bahay-na-bato, similar to the bamboo stilt houses but with the stilts replaced by an entire basement layer and ground floor made of stone walls. Within, wooden stairs lead up to the living area, which is still separated from the ground floor by waxed wood. Capiz shell windows provided shelter from the light, but they were mostly wide open to let the cool air wind through. The roofs were made of ruddy brown and red glazed roof tiles, which provided protection from the overbearing sun.

The three of them walked through the road, where the ginoos and ginangs were lounging about. One of them—wearing the telltale barong tagalog, a button-up shirt made of transparent piña fiber—was singing to a woman, who wore an intricate butterfly-sleeved blouse and two layered skirt, which was called a baro’t saya. Children walked around wearing collared polos and slacks and leather loafers, carrying with them books and scrolls. Teenage girls walked around with abaniko, or hand fans made of wood and silk. Some of them had their fans pointed down, and the teenage boys that saw these girls would walk up to them, smiling and courting.

Miguel, unfortunately, had no time for that kind of trifle. Neither was he born part of the principalia.

As he passed by those that he saw, each of them looked at him with a mix of wonder and fear. Some young women hid their faces behind their abaniko, while others simply looked away in disgust.

Then a single young boy walked up to him, wearing an unbuttoned barong tagalog over a simple white shirt. He wore a panyo, or a handkerchief, around his neck. “O, ginoo, you are an antingero, are you not?” His grin was wide, and his voice was that brittle tone one would expect from an adolescent. “Please, teach me about your adventures! You’re so cool, with magic powers, like the knights of old!”

“Stay in school, child,” Miguel replied. “And don’t go around idolizing men like me. We’re no knights. We never had knights. Only warriors.”

“Huh? But our schools—“

“Your schools teach you the history of the oppressor, not the oppressed.” And Miguel had to catch up with Aling Nenang. The boy scowled at him.

Eventually, they arrived in the plaza, in the middle of it all. Beside a large stone church was a great bahay-na-bato, with many annexes, and with a backyard garden. A novelty only the principalia could have. Sitting by the window was a woman, sipping on tea, fanning herself with her abaniko. When she saw Miguel and Aling Nenang with Binibining Zenaida, she turned and immediately called to her house-help to bring them up to their living room.

The house of the Kapitan was large, as large as two bahay-na-bato combined. The living room was expansive, decorated with paintings bought overseas and white-and-blue porcelain from trade with the Siyanlei People of the northwest continent. A large piano sat in one side, and the living room itself had a coffee table adorned with literature written by great writers of the Eastern Kingdoms, such as Kazizki, de Fulgum, and Naquia. Two of the books on top were the ones written by injos of the islands, in other words natives: Cecil Tanyaga’s THE BROKEN BLACK TREE, an ancient poem, and THE CLAWS OF MORNING by Horatio Sapantaha.

Miguel had read them both, having been reared by antingeros, who treasured the native written literature as it held the ideologies they would cling to in the most darkest of hours when facing the tyranny of the Empire.

“Beautiful morning, Ginang Floreza,” said Aling Nenang to the woman. The Ginang’s was face slightly wrinkled but more or less fresh. Surprising for a woman of her age, Miguel supposed. “We’ve brought home your daughter.”

Of course, Floreza didn’t hear the rest. She fell upon her daughter and hugged her, bringing her close. “Oh Zenaida, why did you leave so abruptly? Oh, you poor child. Yaya? Please bring her to her room and give her proper water and help. Call Doctor Severo into Zenaida’s room so that he can take care of her.”

The helpers walked in, wearing nothing but a simple blue robe that allowed for air to flow. They carried Zenaida into a hallway, where the rooms were.

Ginang watched her disappear, and when she did, she turned to Miguel and Nenang. Her lips were drawn down into a seething scowl, although her “polite” upbringing made her keep her lips as neutral as possible. Somehow, that was even more searing.

“She came to you first?”

“Didn’t you know of the miscarriage?” asked Aling Nenang.

“Of course I did. The blood on her sheets was enough to tell me the truth. I didn’t know where she went, however. But, of course, she went to you.” And her mouth turned up in disgust. “And now I suppose you’d want a reward.”

“Oh, no not me. I am simply a friend of your daughter—“

“I should have never allowed Zenaida to walk out of the walls of the kota. She didn’t need friends like you.”

Nenang blinked. “Ginang, if my respect would be lost for a while, your daughter would have suffered intense shock and pain if I hadn’t brought her here. And she requires a physician.”

Ginang Floreza sat on one of the wooden couches, which had seatings made of Siyanlei cloth and down. “Shut up. If I hadn’t allowed her outside, she would’ve never met you, and she would’ve stayed here and never have miscarried.”

“Now, leave.”

Aling Nenang bowed low. “Of course, Ginang.”

“What, no thank you?” said Miguel grinning and crossing his arms.

Ginang Floreza stopped then, staring up at Miguel. Her face was one scandalized, as if she couldn’t expect such lowly scum like him to be talking to her. Like a demon speaking to a virgin. “Why have you brought an aswang into my midst?”

Aling Nenang never stood up from her bow. “Apologies, Ginang. The antingero is well-versed in the lore of the dark. Perhaps he will be able to help us with our manananggal problem.”

“I doubt it. We’ve hired antingero before. They’ve never succeeded.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow at that. An interesting tidbit.

“Tell me the details, and I might be able to help.”

“We don’t need it,” said Ginang Floreza, looking away and fanning herself. “I don’t consort with demons. Kawal—“

And as she yelled out, a man wearing an exquisite barong tagalog and slacks and leather shoes arrived, wearing spectacles and bringing with him a walking cane adorned with gold. He walked up the stairs into the living room.

“What is this?”

Aling Nenang turned and saw the man, and immediately bowed even lower. “Kapitan Verado!”

Ginang Floreza took one look at the man, and then looked away again. “She brought our daughter home.”

“Oh, Zenaida is home?!” He began hobbling forward, Ginang Floreza told him not to intrude, since she was in pain and the doctor will be tending to her. She told him that Zenaida had miscarried.

“Ah, dear. Oh, my Lord, my God, my beloved God,” he said, in a sorrowful tone, as he lowered himself to sit down upon a high-backed chair. “I must thank you, Aling Nenang. I must give you recompense, for your service. Here.” And he pulled out two gold coins. “Some escudo. May the God Above bless you.”

Aling Nenang bowed low once again, received the gold coins, and said, “Thank you, with all my heart, Kapitan.”

“Return to your home. I’m sure you have business to tend to.”

“Yes. Thank you again.” Aling Nenang stood up, and then looked to Miguel.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” said Miguel. Aling Nenang nodded, and then walked down the stairs, and out of the house.

“It seems the manananggal problem that the rest of Pantalan has been suffering has caught up to you.”

The Kapitan’s white hair and light beard only emphasized his tired visage. “Yes. So brazen too, this manananggal, that they would attack so close to a church.”

“The manananggal might have gained enough strength to overpower the holy symbols of the church. Many creatures have.”

“How can anything be more powerful than God?” asked the Kapitan.

“Many things,” said Miguel. “But I am not here for that. I’m here to help.”

“Ah, antingero, coming to help. I was friends with many antingero in the past—it is why not a lot of bandits attack Pantalan—but lately the antingero have become more violent.”

Miguel shrugged. “The Empire pushes, and nature pushes back.”

Ginang Floreza’s gaze was enough to cut.

The Kapitan, however, cared not much for the politics. “I would gladly receive your help, and pay you in full.”

“Twenty gold pieces, real escudo.”

“Twenty?” The Kapitan stared at his cane, and then nodded. “Very well. That can be arranged. Anything to rid us of the Manananggal once and for all.”

Miguel nodded. “I need a few questions answered: when did this all start?”

“A hundred years ago, give or take. I’ve known that past Kapitan have also suffered this trouble. However, not until now did the manananggal come to attack within the kota.”

“So I’ve been told.” Miguel stroked his stubble in thought. “Have you killed anyone during this time?”

“Yes. We’ve thrown those we thought to be manananggal off to the lake to the west.”

“The name of the lake?”

“Laglagan,” said the Kapitan. His voice was tired. He called for the helpers to bring him some civet coffee. “Laglagan was the name.”

“What does your priesthood here tell you about the situation?”

“The manananggal are evil, but only because the townsfolk are evil. The manananggal come because they are being punished for their evil deeds and letting the devil into their lives.”

Miguel nodded again, but he knew what bullshit it was. “Then I don’t need to go speak with the priest, then.”

“Why not?” Cut in the Ginang.

“They know nothing, and I’d rather not have the church down my throat.” Miguel turned to the Kapitan and asked, “Do you have a place where there are a lot of banana trees?”

“Banana trees? Why do you ask? There are groves close to the lake.”

“Banana tree trunks are low and look similar to human bodies. Easy for a manananggal to hide her lower body in.”

“Ah, of course.”

“Any suspicious people?”

The Kapitan opened his mouth, but then shook his head. Ginang Floreza spoke: “That Nenang is pretty suspect.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow at that, and then said to the Kapitan—ignoring Floreza completely: “Any more details from the townsfolk?”

“Ah, I’ve… never heard much from the townsfolk.”

“They don’t talk about it?”

The Kapitan swallowed. “No, no. It’s just, I… I forget, sometimes.”

“Hm.” Miguel nodded. “All right then. That’s all I need, for now.”

“Does a demon slayer require downpayment?”

Miguel shook his head. “I always finish my job.”

#

Later that afternoon, with the sun softening its bright gleam, Miguel returned to Aling Nenang’s Eatery. There the people have begun to pile in as the day’s work was being finished.

Miguel had walked up to Aling Nenang and asked for salt and garlic. Aling Nenang, who knew why, gave him two batches in wooden containers, like condiments. Miguel couldn’t help but laugh. Aling Nenang laughed along too.

“Ah, my God. I’m glad you came along. The Kapitan just always sat there inside his stone kota and never cared. You know, until now. Must’ve been fate. You believe in fate, antingero?”

She said this as she cooked. It was getting humid hot inside the kitchen, and Miguel’s clothes began matting to his skin. “Yes,” said Miguel. “But only the ones that can be changed. Where’s your daughter?”

“Dayang? She goes to sleep early on, usually, and she studies at night. She has school, on the morrow.”

“So she usually does that? Sleep early and study at night?”

“The work gets too heavy at night, since everyone drinks and eats.”

“So she just stays at your home?”

She nodded. “Her room is in the annex over there. Ahm, please don’t disturb her.”

“Right.”

Aling Nenang raised an eyebrow. “What about the manananggal? You know, I’ve always suspected if Ginang Floreza was the manananggal. She’s always so uptight, loves to abuse people she doesn’t like, and she lives in the kota!”

“A possibility,” said Miguel nodding. “But that’s every principalia noble.”

“Or it could be my Kumare Rochelle? She’s always gone in the night, and always sleeps in the morning!”

“Never met her.”

“She’s pretty lazy.”

“That makes sense, then. Well, I’m sorry for keeping you. What are you going to do now?”

Miguel glanced at the annex where Dayang studied. “Test my first hypothesis, and go to where a manananggal always goes.”

#

Miguel walked west, departing from the bridle path. He wore his bolo—enchanted by spiritual magick, forged by a Katalonan-Panday—on a sheath on his side, and an arquebus behind him, just in case. He wore a shield on his back as well: a long kalasag made of hardwood. That was all he brought with him as he ventured. He had left Tahimik behind, not wanting to bring unto him any harm.

The walk to the lake wasn’t far. By the time he had arrived by the banana groves, he could hear the quiet sloshings of water against the shore, and the night was so dark one would not be able to recognize the person before them. Miguel brought with him an oil lamp to illuminate the way.

Thankfully—or perhaps, it was fate—the moon shone down upon them, providing a serene glow upon the night.

Miguel walked straight into the banana groves, looking with his eyes if there were any that resembled a human lower body. When the banana groves became indistinguishable, he put a finger to his lips and whispered “Patingin, patingin, sa lagim patingin. Buksan ang ilaw sa likod ng mata.” An orasyones.

His eyes suddenly clouded over, and then began burning a bright white, like stars shone behind them. Suddenly, he could see as good as day, and he turned his lamp off. He resumed his search, and the longer that went, the greater the throbbing of his head.

However, in the smack dab middle of the grove of bananas, he found it. Writhing and without intestines: a standing lower body, wearing no clothes, and with a skirt folded neatly beside it.

Miguel smeared the cloves of garlic upon the body, and then sprinkled salt upon it. As he did, the lower body sizzled, as if he were cooking upon charcoals.

And then, he turned off his lamp and walked to a nearby tree, hiding behind it. He closed his eyes and the effects of the orasyones faded away. Now, using only his ears, Miguel waited for the telltale sound of beating wings.

#

When the sound came, it was not a single pair, but two. One was quick, the other was slow. So slow that one would not be able to hear the second pair if one wasn’t accustomed to silence.

Using the orasyones again, Miguel activated his sight. He looked up, seeking the point in the sky where the noises were coming from, as he rose to his feet and unsheathed his bolo and kalasag. There! He saw them: one was a woman, completely naked, but with wings of great size, so voluminous that they were like dark moon crescents. Her hair was short, and her face was deadly familiar. Her wings beat rapidly, like a fly escaping a bat.

And truly, that analogy could not be more true, for chasing after her—and providing the second set of wings—was a huge creature, with skin midnight black, and with an overly long needle-tongue hanging, being pushed back by the winds.

As they neared, the manananggal looked familiar, even as her innards threatened to spill out. She wore a similar baro to the one he saw earlier….

Through his vision, he saw her face as she looked back at the demonic flying creature that chased after her.

Dayang, thought Miguel, his suspicions confirmed.

And the creature that chased after her, with wings a strange mix of an owl’s and a bat’s with an elongated neck and needle-tongue, was a tiktik. It flew fast but rarely beat its wings, and it flew even without wind, like a statue suspended by silence, moved by a ghost.

Miguel unsheathed his arquebus and pointed it up at the tiktik right as it flew by, for Dayang was seemingly flying in the direction of the lake. He pulled the trigger, and a blast of light erupted from its barrel, and a ball slammed onto the tiktik’s side. It roared without sound, and spasmed, but it continued on its path chasing Dayang, who was past the groves of bananas now.

Miguel slung the arquebus across his back and readied his bolo and kalasag, as he plunged into the banana groves. He passed by Dayang’s lower half and, with a quick sweep of his hand, removed the salt and garlic that still sizzled upon it. Then, he ran out the other side of the banana grove, and into the shores of the lake, where Dayang flew overhead, and the tiktik—as large as two men—followed after her.

“That’s a large tiktik,” said Miguel. “Unusually large.”

The tiktik was a creature of perseverance and Miguel knew that Dayang would be caught eventually. So he clambered on top of a boulder, and yelled at Dayang. “Over here!”

Dayang, thankfully, saw him, and scrambled toward the boulder. “Bring him low,” yelled Miguel again, and Dayang did so. She flew as close to the ground as possible without skidding across it, and then suddenly pulled up as she neared the boulder, clearing Miguel.

The tiktik, stupidly, followed suit, low and slow, tongue hanging uselessly. Its gut was so large that it skidded across the ground.

Miguel leapt off of the boulder and plunged his bolo deep into the tiktik’s back. It spasmed again, and this time it screeched. An inhuman screech that sent Miguel’s heartbeat into overdrive.

“Kalmado, kalmado, sa ngalan ng Santo ng Buwan.” He uttered the orasyon for calmness, one that would help defend against both mental assault and spiritual. He felt his heart slow, his mind clear up. Now, outside of the forest, the moon was bright upon their midnight battleground, and he could see enough to deactivate his sight orasyon.

The tiktik flailed, sending Miguel skidding ten feet away. But Miguel was quick, with his newly sharpened senses. He ran forward, his boots allowing him to ignore sharp rocks on the ground, and caught the tiktik’s long neck in a headlock just as it was beginning to ascend off the ground (which it did so in that eerie, wings non-moving manner, as if it could move itself without any movement). The tiktik flailed again, and the screech was so close to Miguel’s ears that they bled.

But Miguel, calmed, used the sharp edges of his kalasag to pierce the tiktik’s head and push it down. He used the kalasag’s edges to pin the tiktik to the ground as he raised his bolo. But then, the tiktik’s needle-tongue punctured Miguel’s hand, and flung his bolo away into the water. The needle-tongue flailed wildly a few more times, twice striking his exposed arms, once striking his brow, ripping skin off.

Following that, the tiktik’s needle-tongue struck Miguel’s chest. But his three layer armor managed to stop the needle-tongue from piercing deep. One of his anting-anting—the one made to protect from darkness—vibrated.

“God damn you, you ugly bitch mother.” Miguel grabbed the needle-tongue—which was sharp and long enough to be a kris—and with a yell of effort, ripped it from the tongue itself. The tiktik shrieked in pain, and it flailed, even as its bat-bird wings flailed ineffectually and still slowly.

Breathing, Miguel pulled his leg back and stomped his boot down upon the tiktik’s head. And then, with the tiktik’s own needle-tongue (which still disgustingly writhed, for it was organic) he impaled the tiktik’s head into the ground.

That was the only time the tiktik stopped moving.

“Back to nature with you,” said Miguel, breathing heavily. He pulled back and stretched. Pain seared through his brow and hands, but it was nothing he hadn’t handled before.

He pulled the kalasag up from the ground, and pulled it on his back again. When he turned to retrieve his bolo from the lake, he saw that Dayang, the Manananggal, had retrieved it for him, and brought it back to him, still half-bodied.

“Thank you for… taking care of the tiktik.”

“Hm.” Miguel sheathed his weapons. “I assume you haven’t been eating fetuses?”

Dayang shook her head. “Not all manananggal do,” she said. “We’re fine eating pigs and fish. Sometimes the fetus of cows and carabaos, if we’re especially hungry.”

“But you’ve never eaten any fetuses. Not Binibining Zenaida’s?”

Dayang shook her head and held her arms. “I’m… no. I have only been manananggal for 4 years. It’s… a difficult existence. I can hardly stay awake at school. But, so far I’ve been able to avoid any suspicion. Which is good.” Dark circles wreathed her eyes. “I don’t need to eat much, though, which is good for the Eatery.”

“So it’s the tiktik that’s been eating fetuses.”

“For more than two hundred years, apparently.”

“Ah,” Miguel nodded. “That’s how it got powerful enough to ignore the church.”

“It was more powerful than God?”

“Many things are,” said Miguel. There was a silence as the lake’s gentle waves underlined their uncertainty. “The rest of your life will be like this,” continued Miguel. “Until you can pass it on.”

“Yeah. That’s what Maria told me.”

“Maria?”

“The one who made me manananggal in the first place. Gave me the black chick so she can finally pass on.”

Miguel nodded. The both looked at the tiktik. It had begun to decompose already, darkness eating away at it. “What made you agree?”

“Love,” said Dayang. “I loved her.”

“How old was she?”

“Two hundred and thirteen. She became manananggal when she was 17.”

“And you’re?”

“19.”

“Hm.” And then silence took over once again. The moon watched them carefully, waiting for what virtue will erupt from their hearts.

#

The next day the antingero, who hadn’t gotten a wick of sleep, went to the Kapitan with the sharp blade that was the needle-tongue. Realizing what the antingero had accomplished, with the needle-tongue as proof, the Kapitan gave him 20 gold pieces, saying that he deserved it for ‘finally riding Pantalan of a century-old curse.’

The antingero thanked him, and then left with a leather bag filled with clanking gold coins.

He went over to the now just opening Eatery as it was ten in the morning. Dayang was setting up the place as the first few customers were piling in, ordering the usual. Aling Nenang was still sleeping, so Dayang made sure to prepare some breakfast meals to sell.

“You all right?” asked Miguel.

Dayang smiled and nodded. She looked not as haggard as when she was, well, half a body, but her dark bags still underscored her otherwise pretty eyes. “Yeah. Um, a bit of a stomach ache, but it’s mostly gone now.”

Miguel apologized, saying that it was the last few bits of salt and garlic he had forgotten to remove. Dayang said it was okay. Miguel placed the leather bag in her hands. “Keep it.”

“What’s this?”

“For the Eatery. Stay safe, and be blessed.”

Dayang blinked, and she looked into the leather bag. When she saw what was inside, she shook her head and began to protest—

But Miguel didn’t care. He was already climbing down the stairs, deaf to Dayang’s protestings. He untied Tahimik from his horse, and sent him into a canter and out of barangay’s northern arch, which read “Thank you, come again!”

#

And thus ends, our tale, as recounted by the antingero himself, Miguel Nagbulan. This was not written to sway popular opinion in favor of the rebels, but it is both a tale to entertain and to make you think. Make you think about the people that you deem as aswang.

May you all be blessed, and may you all have a beautiful day.

Signed MIGUEL NABGULAN and ALFONSO VALARAO on this 25th Day of the San Petro Moon, 116th Year of the Pearlescent Empire, after the freedom of the Archipelago.