#and i'm still so happy because now i have a bit of identity to cling onto

[amitykinz]

commonplacing has taught me more about myself in two days than journaling has taught me in 12 years

[lovelessrage]

I have been struck by an urge to discuss Bojack Horseman. While I am not asexual, I am aspec in every other sense outside of it, and Todd Chavez still matters a lot as a character to me. It was the first canon aspec, the first character where it is said, matters to his plot, and impacts his life, that I had ever seen in a show I actually enjoyed.

A lot of aspec representation feels like it isn't made for me; it's made for young/rowdier teens, and while that's a demographic that needs those figures, it leaves me feeling like reading these books and watching these shows just aren't my thing. It isn't my carnival ride; it feels like I'm too old, despite... not being that old. Maybe it's my humour or my preferences, I dunno. Regardless, Todd Chavez feels like, for all his goofy antics and being the character that has the most absurd life out of anyone, an adult facing a real crisis of identity. Not a teenager coming to terms, but an adult man realizing what's expected of him as an adult is immensely limiting and petrifying as a closeted asexual.

The way his first interaction with being aspec is not being comfortable with labelling it yet, setting boundaries about whether he likes jokes, trying to find community but still feeling a bit lonely and out of place. It all feels very natural, real, and lived. And so does his relationship with Yolanda, which was immensely good commentary to me about aspec loneliness.

Especially for those who still like to date, have hookups, QPRs, or any other type of committed dynamic, it often feels like you are compelled to choose the first person who offers it to you, because you have no other choice. This extends to other queer labels as well, such as T4T struggles and the gay and lesbian dating scene, but we're talking aspecs right now and we'll stay on that ball. There is nothing wrong with Yolanda, which I like as well, she's not framed as a bitter person or frigid, they're just not meant for each other. I also like the inclusion of, despite how different they are, Yolanda is still desperate to cling to this because she's afraid she'll never meet another asexual again. It is, again, a real problem; people getting into unhappy relationships because they think it is all they will get.

That's why this show's representation speaks to me so much, even if it's not my label. It feels like an honest confrontation of aspec issues, rather than just making a character aspec as a one-off, or only confronting it for one episode. As well, it doesn't belittle Todd for this aspect or make his problems childish. It's another adult problem alongside all the others the characters are going through, and there are plenty of references to the struggle of acceptance and the struggle of existence without making asexuality at fault for any of it. It is acephobic society, not asexuals, being blamed. They get to be part of the humour rather than at the expense of it.

There gets to be ace joy alongside ace struggle, and neither are treated as more worth focusing on or telling a story about. His later happiness with Maude is celebrated by his family and friends, and his coming out is met with understanding, even if it's not fully informed. He gets to meet other asexuals, and even if it does not solve his problems, it lends a needed helping of reminding the audience there is a community, not just an individual.

Nothing in Bojack Horseman is instantaneous. No change of character is simply a heelturn and a continuation. I am always immensely happy on every rewatch to see how much time was devoted to making Todd's asexuality journey mean something and mean something to his life. To me, this is the textbook example of what it means to write an aspec character with their identity in mind; it's not just a label, it's also how your life is affected, your relationships, and how you see your future.

[hacked-by-jake]

SPOILERS

Alright I have way too many thoughts and emotions so there ain't no way I'm gonna be able to organize everything into a nice sentence but I still gotta get it out 🤣🤣

First off, my notes app with some of my thoughts I wrote down while playing (in chronological order):

Where's Jake?

No premium?

Why and where is nymos

Why are we playing candy crush instead of hacking

Again: Where's Jake, he prob sees our chats and knows whats happening (hopefully)

The characters seem like an almost identical reflection to duskwood

What happened to Richy, please don't die on me 😩

Where's the others

We're now paying to see the secret chats

Why's this game taking so much of my money

Ash really be making me cry about Jake again 🥴

Eric be throwing himself at us when I still want to stay loyal to my hacker boy 💀

The ending: I KNEW MY BABY WAS ALIVE I LOVE HIM, I DEMAND HE TALKS TO US NEOW 👹

AND ALAN I MISSED HIM TOO MWAH MWAH

Rant 1:

The money milking makes me sick and don't even get me started on the ai 🫡 I spent 17 bucks today, halfway through the first episode and already out of all the materials I bought. It's disgusting how Everbyte has completely flipped and is practically scamming their players. Based on the prices, it's almost 3 dollars to view one picture 🙄 I would be more than happy to buy a premium package like duskwood for $20 or even 30 but $17 for not even half an episode is a crime 😭😭

Rant 2:

It's crazy how long this game took and yet it's way worse than duskwood. I was expecting a few additions, not subtractions.

Rant 3:

There is no way to see previous media and calls like in duskwood and no chat history like they promised. I never would've thought it was possible, but these mini games are way worse than duskwoods. And I realized how childish it all looks, I hate how we get no explanation for anything we're doing in the game.

Conclusion:

I'm pissed but seeing the anonymous mask gave me life. I need to go replay duskwood to cleanse myself of moonvale 😮‍💨

Pahahaha you're really killing me with your thoughts, I love your humor so much. 😭

I really should also start to write down my first thoughts while playing but I fear I will write down something to every little sentence I read. xD

But it's so true, where's Nymos? Give us Nymos back! My emotional bond with this unreal little dude is huge so I seriously need him. It's literally a program but it's a he you can't change my mind because I imagine Nymos as Jake best friend who's exactly like Jarvis from Marvel. (Sorry if you don't know it but then I really recommend you to watch the Iron Man movies. (Actually all marvel movies but we're talking about Jarvis here so you best see or more like hear him in Iron Man)

Btw my headcanon is that Nymos is not just any program but also an AI. So and now I will expand the headcanon and say Nymos is an AI that is against AI art and nobody can stop me, hehe.

The Candy Crush comparison makes me laugh every time and it hurts me because it’s true. xD

The thing with the characters being identical with the Duskwood characters... It's a hard topic in my eyes.

Some people say it way too early to judge this. And it's true. We didn't saw much now. But I do think we can already judge them a bit by what we saw. And when we compare it with how the Duskwood characters were in the first episode, I do think you can see that there's not much yet, sadly.

Like, we had Thomas, the idiot in love with problems to take criticism. We had Jessy the hanger-on that were clinging to Dan but then decided to change sides. We had the funny sunny boy Richy. The pretty cold acting Cleo. We had bitchy Lilly and of course we had the grumpy and unfriendly Dan. They all acted pretty strong from second one, in my eyes.

But I somehow absolutely don't think the Moonvale characters are like the Duskwood characters. Because well, I really think they need stronger personalities.

We have Eric who's a pretty normal guy and even though he tripped twice in one episode he's not at all like Thomas.

We have Ash who's like a very, veeery light version of Jessy and Lilly, in my eyes. Somehow kind but somehow absolutely not trustworthy.

We have Violet who's just.. there sometimes. Even the drunken police chief is more expressive.

Well and Charlie is.. Somehow like Richy and in my eyes has the strongest personality so far.

Oh and not to forget Brian who wasn't even there. Lol.

So yeah, I understand both points but I might see it a bit differently.

"Why's this game taking so much of my money" had me on my knees, laughing and crying at the same time because it's almost funny what Everbyte did and it's just as sad.

During my first playthrough I was also like: Someone give me a crucifix I need to get rid of Eric as soon as possible.

But while replaying I just had to see what happens if you decide to get closer with Eric and I swear it didn't disappoint me. It was hilarious and truly, I want this with Jake. I need such a chat with Jake! Everbyte, please!

I mean, I'm not flirting with Eric because I think he's hot or anything. Sadly, his character isn't interesting to me in this sense. (I need the mysterious guys xD) But I just had to try it and I mean, who knows if it will be important later. It's manipulative, I know, but don't judge me. And also, there's still this little hope for a jealous Jake. *ahem* Sorry, I promise I still feel bad for flirting with someone else. 😩

But gosh, the side story end. It was worth all the wait, really. I said before, I don’t forget about the negative things because of it but I'm just a silly, lonely, disappointed girl in love with a fictional hacker, let me have this adrenaline boost!

And yes, I was so happy when I saw Alan's body cam. I immediately knew what that means but at first I was just so happy to "see" Alan as well. I really like this guy, I can't stop myself.

About rant 1: I love the comparison with "So expensive is a picture" it is just as true and actually shows again how incredible it all is. I’ve said my opinion many times now, and I still want to protect Everbyte and give them a little empathy. But it's sadly just true.

I had a thought about that (what you said in rant 2) before and wanted to make a post about it later. So I hope it's okay if I get to it later.

Rant 3: This is actually one of the things that botherse the most. We can't rewatch calls, videos and pictures. The chats are disappearing and are gone forever. And they told us it will be different and that's so annoying. Not being able to see it in the app is just bothering for me. And yeah, that they broke the "promise" is as well. We all were so happy about the chat thing and now...

I actually like the look of Moonvale even if I would prefer something much darker. Especially with the mini games. The background is AI, of course, so. It would look much better with a real background.

And the damn mini games... I loved the ones in Duskwood so much. I really did. It was so much fun and I was one of the people who found them very easy.

But now the Moonvale mini games. By lord. Even though they're much easier for me in my replay, the first time I was actually this close to throwing my phone against the wall. I mean, I even went to sleep at some point and finished the game the next day! Everyone who follows me since duskwood knows I would rather shave my head than that. But they're just pain. And I seriously hope Everbyte will make them a bit easier or give us moves! Because this was often the biggest issue for me. Not enough moves. But they want you to buy gems so... 😒

Your conclusion sound good. I'm definitely planning to replay Duskwood as well. If I want or not. I have to. I need the comforting atmosphere and my emotional support hacker.

So I would say, see you in Duskwood, my detective friend. 🫡

No, jokes aside. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me and us. As I said, I love your humor and the way to describe the things. And I really enjoyed answering it. 💚

I hope you could calm down a bit as well. I definitely needed some days before I could see it more clearly.

And as always a huge pleasure to see you here again. 💚😌

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

MORE Johnny and Janae headcanons because the first set was me going "Oh, these characters are nice :)" but now it's me going "Ouhhh, these characters are going to be rotating in my brain for the next few months and I fully accept that"

Johnny

That headcanon of him dreaming about the Somerset fire is actually just me being way too obsessed with these guys. This couldn't have happened no matter how I explained it. The Somerset fire happened some time around 1950. The timeline was changed when BD was in his mid 40s (I think?) so that'd be like. 1980 at least. Johnny dreaming about the Somerset fire is literally impossible unless I did some more time fuckery than these guys already do on a regular basis

Tries to like his family's interests so that they'll love him more. He doesn't like soccer but he does it for his dad. He doesn't like the theater but he'd watch it for his mom. He doesn't really understand seismology but tries to for Janae. He knows Janae already loves him a lot, but he just does it out of habit

Social chameleon. Will literally change things about himself so that people will like him. These efforts fail a lot of the time, but in the rare case that he actually gets someone to notice and see him in a positive light, he will cling on to that person and never let them go

Because of the things mentioned above, Johnny tends to have identity crises. Yeah, you heard me. Plural. He's been doing all of this since he was 7. He knew from the get-go that he didn't fit in. And in his head, the best course of action was to try to blend in

Definitely likes art-- or, more specifically, painting. It's the one thing about himself that he's sure of. His father, though, doesn't approve of this and hid his art supplies in the basement, a place he knows Johnny is too scared to check

I don't know about other countries' classes but like. If they have TLE (Technology and Livelihood Education), methinks Johnny would like the subject a lot (home ec, entrepreneurship, agriculture, yadda yadda)

Sensitive to extreme temperatures. Trying to cook an egg? It feels like his skin is actually burning (it's not). The weather is chilly? He'll need to wear a lot of layers (physically refuses to function if it's cold)

Developed a lot of crushes when he was in middle school but only now realizes that they were just happy crushes

Frequent nightmares about death. They're not future dreams but he believes that they are. Very anxious to continue with his day because he might end up dropping dead later

His love language is quality time. Definitely some tonal whiplash but I thought I'd throw this out there

Janae

Very verbal. Will not hesitate to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. Like, they could just be talking about seismology to Johnny but then yell out "SEISMOGRAM" in the middle of it before going back to building the finalized version of it. This happens very often

Oh, you interupted their ramble? They completely forgot what they were talking about and is pissed because you disturbed them.. Though, you do have to find a way to make Janae stop eventually. Most effective method is to raise your hand. After a few seconds, they'll stop talking to let you talk

If you disturbed Janae, they will immediately not like you. I'm sorry but they don't make the rules. You're not a good person in their eyes anymore

Poor memory on things that should be important. They struggle with remembering dates, dues, assignments, paperwork and other stuff that is very important. They have too much going on in that mind of theirs to remember much. It will always end up pushed to the back of their brain

Struggles with prioritizing and time management. If the task seems easy enough, they'll procrastinate and do something that's more important to them. They'll eventually forget about it until it suddenly becomes important again. And they end up cramming to pass it on time so it's a bit sloppy but no one notices because it's still really good in comparison to the others passed. The only other person to be able to tell whether or not Janae actually spent time doing something is Johnny

Frequently forgets words. Like mentioned earlier, they have too much going on in their head to remember much. ("Johnny, what was that thing called? The thing that happens when a woman goes into labour?" "Huh?" "When she's like?? Pushing the baby out??" "I don't know??" "I swear we had a conversation about this before--")

You know how people say to look at the big picture and to stop focusing on the smaller details? Janae is the exact opposite of that but in a more literal sense. Let's say that they're looking for [brand] toothpaste but they can't find it despite checking the isle several times. They'll ask an employee about it and get directed to a part of the aisle that they passed by a couple dozen times

Talks to themself a lot. Like said in bullet one, they're very verbal. Literally has to chew on gum/the inside of their cheek to shut themself up

That headcanon of Janae tutoring students their age and higher definitely makes zero sense if I actually think about it. Same with my excuse of Martha and Jack just sending them back to 2nd grade. But erm, they still tutor because I said so. They tutor their students :))

Gets distracted easily. Like. Very easily. Surprisingly easy. Especially by shiny objects. (One student of theirs tried distracting them with a laser pointer. It worked. Three times)

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Once Golden Butter Cookie ever leaves the box/or wakes up (Really depends which au we're talking about here), will they ever get back into dollmaking?

I just find it interesting that even if the world and others have gone to create things far better than her own creations, I don't think that takes away the fact she can grant sentient life to her creations if she so wishes. She even made an entire realm for herself and her dolls which if you think about it, is really impressive on its own and it probably took months or years to create.

So even if she's burntout, I don't think that entirely means she's lost her creativity. I think the only reason she went through burnout in the first place was that she was stressing herself to create something noteworthy for the public to notice. So that you know, maybe there was justification for her to deserve HER SOUL JAM. So when she realized that she just couldn't keep up, what use was she to the world at this point...

Why is her corrupted attribute cowardice? Personally, I don't know, however when it comes to creativity, there's usually a risk involved. The courage to explore and experiment with new ideas, challenge expectations even if it'll face large or failure criticism. However, exploring new ideas is different from your own artistic identity. I'm assuming Golden Butter Cookie was trying to create things within the status quo required by the general public in order to remain as relevant as her friends, trying to create her own ideas and expound in those that resulted in failure and frustration too many times that she just gave up. I think her motivation also became a large factor in this too, that perhaps the things she was creating wasn't in her best interest. She has a literal army of dolls and toys, she probably has some workshop out there. But imagine her shifting from creating living toy companions that brought happiness and protection to children to sudden machines that should serve a purpose in making work easier. It's stressful and a bit hard to adapt to when you think about it. But what if she adapted her own dolls to make work easier? Sure it feels weird having some plush toy do some of the work, but it gets the job done. And I feel like unbeknownst to her, she managed to explore this idea a bit during her time in the toybox before succumbing to sleep.

But that makes you wonder, in all her years she spent wasting away in her toybox realm, why hadn't she ever discarded her own soul jam, or given it to someone much better than her...? Maybe because it was a gift from her own creators... Maybe it was her way of clinging to the small speck of hope that a part of who she once was is still there... Her purpose...

But honestly, maybe the world doesn't need her as much as they did before, but that doesnt mean her own friends don't need her. She's Golden Butter Cookie, whether she's some great inventor or not, she was an integral part of their life. She was important, not for her powers, but for her.

anon... anon I am shaking you so hard right now/verypos

This actually almost perfectly describes Goldie, i don't know how you did it anon, but you did! so congrats!! As for your first question, I don't think that Goldie would ever give up doll making in the first place. The dolls of the Toy-Box are basically her children and most cherished items/people, and making dolls is in fact, Goldie's passion.

In fact, Goldie's persona, Butterscotch Cookie, is a doll maker! Just a fun little fact.

As for why Golden Butter Cookie's corrupted attribute is cowardice... Well, it's a lot like you said. She was unwilling to break away from the norm, trying so desperately to be seen as useful like her fellow heroes. She didn't have Shadow Milk's knowledge, she wasn't as good at bringing smiles to others as Eternal Sugar was, she couldn't lead revolutions against the corrupt like Burning Spice did(in fact, maybe she feared change.), she couldn't find her own will like Mystic Flour could... And she was too much of a coward to stand by their sides, but she knew that silent salt would never do such a shameful thing as running away from the world to hide.

And then, when they became beasts, she was still too much of a coward to stand up for what was right. To fight against her friends. But how could she? She was just so much... less, compared to them. Hell, she can't even grow to their gargantuan size! How the hell was she supposed to be able to do... anything?

But she could have at least done something... right? But she was too much of a coward to do anything except hide away.

...

Also, about what you said about her adapting the dolls, yes that does indeed happen! There are gardeners, architects, builders, and many more types of dolls to fill the roles of a society within the toy-box! Goldie realized that she couldn't really do everything by herself, so she decided to make some dolls to give her a helping hand!

And as for why she didn't discard her soul jam... Well, it's an integral part of her. Her connection to it is baked into her dough and it isn't something she could easily rid herself of... if she even could. She still wants to cling to the dim hope that the Light of Creation supplies her with, it's voice is quiet... but it's still there.

And when all was said, and all was done, and when Goldie left the Toy-Box... She was ready to face her friends once again, even if it (metaphorically) killed her to do so. Because it wasn't her powers, her achievements, or her creations that they saw. They saw Golden Butter Cookie, nobody else, not a failure, not anything other than who she was.

And she was their friend.

[alexhornefan]

I've always been scared of fish Specifically sharks, because of watching Jaws when I was to young. I'm hoping I was 10. I think I might have been 15. I trod on a dead fish a couple of years later and it floated to the surface and stared at me. I still have a residual fear of the sea. I'm more than happy to devour fish, mind. Just don't want them to eat me.

I trained to be a journalist That was my fallback, but I couldn't take anything very seriously. I had a brief stint as "People's Journalist" for the West Sussex Gazette; I'd do golden-wedding anniversaries and pet deaths. I was always looking for an angle; it wasn't great.

I don't think I was ever confident But most of my nerves went the very first time I ever did stand-up, at university. I had about six months of failing to turn up, walking past the [venue] door; that first hurdle is a lot bigger than the others, and once I'd done it, I couldn't not do it again.

My taste in comedy hasn't really developed since then Harry Hill is still my favourite comedian. I have pretty unsophisticated tastes; I enjoy the videos on You've Been Framed a lot – I don't think there's much that's funnier than people falling over. I prefer that to Bill Hicks.

I don't like going to the theatre I can never get past there being people on stage pretending to be something else. I like a film, but I'm always aware in a theatre that I could stand up and push them off something.

I'm under no illusions: I'm not at all musical My band [the Horne Section] are very keen to tell me that. I had piano lessons for six months and got nowhere. One of the gimmicks of our show is that I slag off the band, in a warm way, but they do let me know I can't actually sing. I have a go, though.

I was quite serious about breaking the world's oldest man record And I still would like to do it – I think there's still the kudos there – but the more I learn about what I'd have to sacrifice, like not eating sausages… I think I'd like to break the record, but still eat sausages. So I'm now aiming more for 82, and I kind of want to have a lifestyle where my body will deteriorate by that age. If I'm still clinging on in my nineties, then I'll go for the record, but I don't want it enough to change my life.

I'm scared of not having a beard I was unbearded when I got married and I think that's right: I think you should look very different in your wedding photos to how you look now. I've had it for about eight years, so my children [aged four, two-and-a-half and seven months] have known me only as a bearded man. I'm worried about what's underneath – that I've either got a very weak chin or a very fat chin.

I wasn't into bird-watching until I spent a year competing with my dad He's not a twitcher, he's a birder – there's a lot of difference. Twitchers are like trainspotters, bird-watchers are connoisseurs. I'm quite proud that my bird-feeders are always full. We had siskins in the garden, and that genuinely gets me as excited as almost anything in my life.

I'd love to be a fugitive – ideally for something I hadn't done Or even just be dragged into an interrogation just for a bit of excitement. I'm by no means busy every day and I think I've been recognised as a comedian once where I live, which is ideal, as I spend a lot of time out with my children. So I'm happy as I am, but a bit of excitement, one mistaken identity, would spice it up.

Source

[mnoxsk]

hellooo,can I request vil x short male reader who always cling to him whenever his mood would randomly drop?like he'll quickly go to vil and cling to him with a pout and won't talk just cling like a koala :33

//It's my first time requesting and I really love your stories⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾💙

● Of course! :D As someone who also suffers from mood swings (slightly similar to Floyd's case), I usually tend to often be quiet most of the time when alone because after staying in a public setting for too long I tend to be more emotionally and physically drained (talking or doing activities makes it faster to that point) which that starts to cause my mood swings. The time I really can get a break is when I’m asleep so yeah. ':)   Also I'm really happy that you enjoy my stories! Thank you and have a nice day anon! ^0^

𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 (𝘝𝘪𝘭 𝘹 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

Genre: Fluff/Chaotic/Comfort/Scenario/Headcannons

Summary: You’re a friend of Vil’s, who often suffers from mood swings and comes to him for help or feel at ease to him. (What he did the first time he’d see you go through mood swings, what he does now, how he helps or treats it, ect.)

-The first time you’d shown mood swings in front of made him both concerned and worried for you! Like he’s busy doing dorm leader stuff and suddenly a small thing that was you started to (possibly strangle) hug him! It would take quite some time for you to actually speak to talk about how this is a normal thing for you but really needed comfort that time.

-And trust me, THIS MAN IS WORRIED AND A BIT SAD ON THE INSIDE HEARING THAT. The way how you consider that normal when it can be emotionally and physically draining for you makes him worry so much! Vil would try to create a potion that would help stabilize your emotions momentarily while he would try to find people with similar experiences as you so he can better make another potion for you! 

-Even now, when he see’s you starting to get mood swings he’ll drag you out of where ever you are so that he can take a potion and take some time out of talking, doing certain things, ect. He’ll either make you sleep somewhere, on his shoulder or his lap even! He wants to make sure that you’re comfortable when resting and able to calmly recover! 

-However in more tougher cases when you’re protecting him from some person (who even has the stupidity to pick a fight with Vil in the first place lmao) expect him to wait a bit longer before he snatches you away and makes a run for it!

“You may be all looks but I bet that you’re pretty weak! I suggest you hand over your homework answers before things get ugly!” The two Savanaclaw dorm members say to Vil, stupidly not knowing his real identity. As Vil was about to say anything he’s moved out of the way by a small figure, being you and don’t seem to be in a good mood. “Ah Vil! Are these your friends by any chance?” You warmly smile to them yet Vil can feel a sense of anger from that. “Like we’d ever be with this loser, dwarf looking *ss!” “As expected from Vil’s standards. You’re both too f*cking crusty and pitiful looking to even be considered acquaintances with him!” As you laugh like a snake sticking their tongue out, making sounds of a hyena. “You b*tch! You’ll regret saying that!” As one of them starts to lunge towards Vil, you jump off the ground, stepping on their body as both leverage and to make them fall down, but to kick the other Savanaclaw member’s ass in the face with your fists, socking him in both rage and thrill . As students and a teacher started gathering to see the fight, Vil grabs you by the wrist to tug you away from his so that both of you can make a run for it before the teacher can notice you’re gone. Vil surprisingly running way faster than you even in heels yelling to you, “RUN FASTER B*TCH! RUUN!” “I F*CKING AM AND THIS IS MY BEST!” You yell back to him as you both laugh. 

-You still got caught though since Cater was also there, recording the fight with your face visible in it but not Vil’s (lmao). However he was able to treat your mood swing before you were taken away by a teacher to talk about the fight. Vil was honestly shivering his timbers by the small possibility that the potion will wear off and might start disrespecting the teacher (though gratefully it didn’t happen).

-Whether or not other people see it, you both are obviously comfortable near eachother that you would even pull that off in the first place, causing some chaotic energy in the air! And believe me, even if Vil hates showing that side to other people, he’s THAT comfortable with him being near you that he wouldn’t mind doing that again! It makes him very happy that being perfect in your eyes is just settling down and taking a break when you need to. He’s very grateful that he can be free to settle down when he’s with you. :(( <33

● That’s all there is to this scenario! I hope this satisfy your request and you like it anon! :) I didn’t mean to make this a chaotic wholesome scenario but I’ll keep it that way since I think you and some other people may like it! Have a nice day!

[go-follow-vibingouthere]

Kaimelia Fic Update/Sneak Peek

For anyone that cares...

I'm still writing the post 18x20 Kaimelia fic I posted about 2 months ago lol. Had a bit of an identity crisis after graduating college + the hyper fixation was becoming less... hyper, so I haven't actually worked on it since late June until this week. RN I've got ~3.5k words that are actually useable and good and another ~13k (I know 🙃) of... Over stuff lol (some of it's useable, some of it's redundant, etc.). I won't post it until it's done; I hate disappointing people and wouldn't wanna get anyone's hopes up just to never finish it. I am fucking DETERMINED to get this out before the new season starts.

However... Because I'm a glutton for attention and I know the fandom is in a drought rn... I wanna give y'all a sneak peek of the first 500 words or so. Without further ado:

Kai had never kissed anybody in the rain before… It was nice. Like a scene from a movie. Kai could imagine some grandiose love song playing in the background of this moment, the music swelling when Amelia’s lips met their own. Picture-perfect…

It had been a long day. A long few weeks, really. Whatever anxiety Kai had experienced during that dinner party, surrounded by Amelia’s intimidating web of a family, had only increased after their semi-break up on the swings; and, with it, came wave after wave of self-loathing, anger, and despair. They couldn’t eat, they couldn’t work, they couldn’t sleep, they couldn’t function.

Not even the paper being published—years and years of work and effort finally being recognized—was enough to lift their spirits. Every potentially happy thought about it—every stray thought they’d had since the last time they were in Seattle—just led back to her. Their text to her upon hearing the news (“thinking of you”) wasn’t a lie: if anything, it was an understatement.

The irony plagued them. They had once boasted to Amelia that they needed very little sleep to function and look where that had landed them: impulse buying a plane ticket to Seattle after another restless 24 hours, running through the airport to make it on time, all 6’ 1” of them jammed into a middle seat on a rickety Spirit Airlines flight, their hastily packed carry-on containing nothing but two shirts, pajama bottoms, underwear, and a toothbrush. All without a shred of hope to cling to that she’d even want to see them, let alone take them back.

But she did… at least, tentatively.

She was kissing them, in the rain, and Kai felt like they could finally breathe again. The risk of drowning at sea was averted: her presence alone pushed their exhausted, waterlogged mind back to shore. The monumental pain of their actions was gone. The weight and stress that had sat in their shoulders and upper back had finally dissipated. Relief flooded over them and they were left to ponder happier ideas… like which movies had the best rain kiss scenes.

(They managed The Notebook, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Spider-Man, A Cinderella Story, and that one episode of Friends before Amelia pulled away for breath, her forehead slumped against theirs.)

The rain was getting worse by the second; having started as barely a sprinkle, it was now quickly becoming a considerable downpour. They could feel their hair getting heavier, sticking to their forehead in odd spots, matted after Amelia’s handiwork.

Her hands eventually came down to rest on their shoulders. They stayed breathing each other’s breath, eyes closed and hands still, for a long time, quiet despite the environmental rage surrounding them…

They were tempted to kiss her again, being that close for so long. And they nearly did. Hesitantly brushing their nose alongside hers, receiving no comments or requests to stop, they brought their hand up to her cheek, ready to join their lips again and—

“Amelia!” someone called out from the hospital exit, their voice carrying over the dense rain.

The bubble popped.

Hope you enjoyed :) I hope to have it out in full beginning/mid-September.

[vdlest]

Cap's Divulgence

Characters:

Steve Rogers x GF!Reader

Sort of Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff

Summary:

After six months of putting your relationship with Steve Rogers in much secrecy, the star-spangled man boyfriend of yours finally broke the news to everyone in a celebratory dinner.

Warning:

Fluff

What is supposed to be a simple celebratory dinner for the team's recent mission turns out to be the night when your relationship with Captain America is revealed by none other than your boyfriend himself.

"Since when did this happen?" Nat asked as you can see how puzzled and surprised she is by Steve's revelation.

"Oh, come on," Tony groaned, which made you and everyone in the room look on his way, "It's not like you guys don't see how they stare at each other when they're both in the same room," he said with matching rolling eyes.

You and Steve are quite aware that if there might be one person in the team who has a hint of your secret relationship, that would be Tony Stark.

And somehow you thought Nat would have the same hunch. After all, she's Black Widow, the Russian spy. But it turns out, your friend is completely unaware since she's too busy playing hide the zucchini with Bruce and until now they haven't gone on a date.

"Wait up," Nat raised her hand to stop Steve from continuing his announcement then she turned to you, "Y/N, you and I were roommates when we were in Florida and you didn't mention anything about this. Why?" she asked.

You and Nat were more than just roommates in Florida, you two are like sisters, almost like twins. She was the one who trained you when you first join the team, she was the first person you confide in about your identity and how you lost your family when you were still a teenager, and you two were inseparable when it comes to rescuing each other's ass in terms of war, mission, life, and also love.

"Sorry Nat," you gave her a small smile, "I wanted to but Steve and I decided to just keep it low since we have no idea how you guys will take it."

"Yeah," Steve rescued you from Nat's surprise questions, "We know you guys would be somehow surprised to know that we are together now."

Why you and Steve thought of how they'll react? Because a year ago, Steve was cornered by the team, except you, of course, asking him if he'll ever date you and his answer is a big no no no.

Steve then explained to you the reason why he didn't want to date you because he thinks that you're too good for him, that you don't deserve to have a pain in the ass like him in your life. He knows how being an Avenger can be hard and making you date someone from the same course of work may cause you too much pain. But obviously, he has always been fond of you, even before he was asked by that question. He has always been into you.

"I'm quite aware of your adoration with Y/N, Rogers," Sam points his finger at Steve, "But I thought you don't want to date her because quote she's too good to be true for you unquote," he added making a gesture in the air.

"Yeah!" Bruce yelled and shook his head, "And now you two are a thing?"

"Why did you fondue her?" Nat asked.

"Because I can't get enough of her," Steve sighed as he tries to explain himself, "One day I woke up, I don't want to be just her co-worker, her colleague, her friend. I woke up one day, I already want to be with her, and that is it. I took my coward ass in front of her door and asked her out."

That's how it happened.

You just woke up from an afternoon nap in your room in the compound when you heard a knock on your door. You thought it was just Thor, Bruce, and Nat asking you to join them in a quick bar hopping, but you were too tired to join them. To your surprise, you opened the door and found a nervous muscled, and blonde man in front of you. You thought he's just gonna ask you about your training with him later that week, but no, he asked you if you want to visit a nearby museum with him, he knew you are fond of museums and art so that's how you and Steve Grant Rogers had your first date.

It was also that same night when he told you that he can't just be in the same room with you being completely unaware of what he truly feels for you. So yeah, he confessed to you that night. And that date night followed by another, and another, and another, until he asked you to be officially his and without any doubt, you said yes Steve, I love you too.

"Woah," Clint reacted after Steve finished his storytelling, "These happened under our nose and we had no idea?" he asked, still unsure whether he's dreaming or not. "The last time we talked, Rogers, you told me you weren't seeing anyone," Clint added.

Steve gave Clint an apologetic smile, "Had to lie. Sorry 'bout that, and yeah," he sighed as he looks each member of the team, "Sorry about the little lie and secrecy Y/N and I made. Hope you guys won't be mad at us. We just really don't know how you guys would react about us."

You stood up and stood in front of where Nat is sitting, she looks at you as you try to reach for her hand, "Hey, sorry for this secret. I just..."

Nat cut you off, "Don't be a fool, Y/N," she stood up and held your arms, "I understand and I think I will just do the same thing if I'm in your place. I completely understand and I respect your decision as a couple," she playfully rolled her eyes, "God, can't believe you two are a thing now."

You chuckle as you open your arms to embrace her.

You just really had to make sure that Nat is not offended nor mad at you for keeping your relationship with Steve a secret from her. It was a good thing she understood why you did what you did and it only means she's truly happy for you and Steve.

When you and Nat pull away from each other, you saw Bruce standing in your peripheral, you thought he's gonna hug you and you were already ready to embrace the big guy, but he didn't come to you, he approached Nat instead.

"Uh-oh, someone got jealous," Tony being his usual jerky self.

"So Steve and Y/N had to be in a relationship before you finally made up your mind and ask me out?" Nat sarcastically asked Bruce and that made everyone laugh.

You step a bit away from the two and you felt an arm behind you, realizing it was your boyfriend, you cling your arms around him too as you all watch Bruce and Nat.

"I don't know why it took me so long to do this, but I don't want to waste my time and wait for another ancient man to get ahead of me," Bruce is obviously nervous while looking at Nat, but there's no more holding back, "So, Natasha Romanoff, can we have a proper date after tonight?"

"Well, I don't want your other friend to show up, so yeah," Nat nodded, "I'll go out with you."

You saw how prepared Natasha was to have a glance at you and gave you a "finally he asked me out" smile, but before she could do it, Bruce cupped her face and kissed her on her lips, and that made everyone gasp in surprise.

"Is this what we call domino effect?" Steve whispered to your ear before he planted a kiss on the side of your head.

You look at him, "Why do men take so long to finally ask a woman out?" you asked him back.

"Well, it's worth the wait, right?" he asked you.

"Yeah, it was worth it," you said as you tilt your head and tiptoe to give your man a kiss on his lips.

-v.dl

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 07

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.5k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, swearing.

♤ A/N: Surprise! I'm really sorry it took me this long, but I finally found the time and drive to write again :) Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

06 07

"What do you mean this hybrid doesn't exist?"

Her eyes are wavering with an unspoken fear, perhaps caused by the bitterness my questions holds. I'm not happy, and she knows.

“It’s just, the chance that a dangerous breed such as the tiger hybrid would escape our system is basically zero..” The gaze she held on the computer screen unsurely moves my way. My expression must've instilled another layer of anxiety to the already existing one, as her mouth abruptly stops moving and her pupils dilate.

“Go on, explain.” The tone of my voice softens a bit as I notice her visible discomfort worsening. Even if there is no way that I’ll get any information from this place regarding Taehyung and his owner, I would still like to know why they’re both not showing up here.

Eun-ji takes a few deep breaths to stabilize her voice. As she does her posture slowly relaxes just a little and her eyes lose some of the nervousness they held before. “Because the first ‘successful’ tiger hybrid ran rampant after killing their creator, anyone who still breeds or creates them is being watched very closely by us, as well as by some other institutions.”

Perhaps it’s my lack of reaction that causes her to trail off at the end. Though I’m not judging her or her story, unlike she may think. To encourage her to continue, I give her a nod, tilting my head to show interest.

“The regular citizen isn’t even allowed to have one, needing special training to handle them. It’s like that for most hybrids that find their origins in wild animals. Creating tiger hybrids obviously requires a lot of knowledge when it comes to playing with genes and breeding them…. Well there are only three organization that are authorized to do so. All the resulting hybrids are registered and chipped.”

The explanation, which turns out to be a lengthy one, gets broken by a shuddering breath leaving her lips. She composes herself, clinging on to the little confidence she has left in her line of work to speak about the rest of her clarification.

“Of course people have tried to do it themselves, but those d.i.y operations have always ended in disappointment. If not taken proper care of, with substances only a board certified hybrid doctor can provide you, the pregnancy will fail. These are no easy practices they are dealing with.”

After the girls’ last words I give myself some time to think, letting a silence full of tension fill the room. It must be obvious that my mind is somewhere else at the moment, as the other girl in the room does her best to stay quiet. I don’t need much time however, my thoughts having quickly rearranged themselves as they were trained to do.

“So what you’re saying is, since tiger hybrids are hard to ‘create’, if you will, there are only a few people who actually manage to bring them to life. And so those few people are kept under close watch, as are the hybrids they successfully wake, am I correct?”

Eun-ji nods affirmatively, clearly happy that I seem to understand the situation. “So there is absolutely no way that someone without authorization has had a decent attempt at either genetically merging a human together with a tiger or getting a tiger hybrid pregnancy to be successful?”

Perhaps there might be a bit of scepticism in the question I asked, as her attitude immediately changes into a defensive one. “There is not! Whatever hybrid you’re searching for either gave you a false identity or is not a tiger hybrid at all, which would seem rather unlikely. I told you they get chipped right? Why not go look into that.”

“He doesn’t have one. We already had a hospital take a look at him, they didn’t find anything. ” The statement seems to shock her, the gears in her head instantly turning as to find an answer to this riddle. She however can’t seem to get one.

“They can be removed, can they not? They’re just under the skin. If someone decided to just cut it out they could. Terrifying, but plausible. Either that or one of your faithful authorized employees has been leaking information to outsiders.”

This is where Eun-ji seems to give up. Her shoulders sagging and a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “There would still be the problem of the missing equipment, test subjects, practice… How would you even get hold of fertilized human eggs to play around with? But I guess that wouldn’t be totally impossible. As for cutting it out… There would be a noticeable scar. The implants are always put in the same place, it wouldn’t be hard to miss.”

I make a mental note stating to ask Taehyung about all of this when I get back. If anyone knows how he got onto this world it would be him. “Is there a possibility that you could have someone look into it?” The girl nods in defeat, paying more attention to the ground than to anything else. “I’ll see if I can get someone on the case. I’ll have them contact you if we know anything.”

After those words she turns around in her chair, facing the monitor that had already put itself into sleep, and turns it off. Taking a notepad out of the drawer to her left, she quickly writes something down with the pen from her breast pocket. “I’ll get on it right away. Would you like me to walk you back to the exit?”

I shake my head. “No It’s okay, I’ll find my way back. Thank you for cooperating.” Eun-ji gives me a small smile, followed by a bow and walks out of the room taking the note with her, presumably immediately keeping herself busy with the extra work. Not wanting to waste any time I copy her, walking myself back into the direction we came from. Turns out it proves quite easy to find the exit by myself.

It’s already far past dinnertime when I make it back to the office. Not many of my colleagues have remained in their seats, most of them opting for a nice meal with their families. The few that have stayed behind are mostly known to live alone, quite like myself.

I quietly knock on my supervisor’s door, but when no response emerges from within the room, I can safely deduce that she too has already returned home. “I’ll have to write her a report about today later..” I mutter to myself, before stepping away from the door and instead heading to the cells at the back.

Technically the arrest period had already ended for Taehyung, as the law wouldn’t allow us to keep him locked up for any longer without any charges being held against him. His cell however technically was never locked and so even now, he is free to go wherever he wants. Though it didn’t change the fact that he still has no place to go to.

“Good evening. Had anything to eat yet?” He just chose to stay here and we accepted it. “Oh, hello! Yes, that tall handsome bulky man gave me something earlier, I can’t remember his name. He said something about it ‘being the best shit in town’.”

I slightly giggle at his quote, knowing immediately who it belongs to. “That definitely sounds like something Namjoon would say. What did he give you?”

Taehyung looks a lot better than he did yesterday. The stress of the interrogation seems to have completely worn off, instead traded for the sweet bouncy personality he used to show around me.

“Umm it was something in the shape of a circle and it had meat all over it… Oh! I think he called it a pizza? It was delicious!”

“You’ve never had pizza before?” The words leave my mouth before I actually get the chance to process them, causing me to instantly regret ever even opening my mouth. These days are stressful enough for him as they are, he doesn’t need a painful reminder of the life he never got to live on top of that.

The question doesn’t seem to hit him as hard as I though it would though. In fact, his demeanour doesn’t seem to change at all. Although sadly, it doesn’t make his next words any less painful. “Nope! When I first got adopted all they would feed me was wet cat food. It wasn’t great, but at least I got my three meals a day. The foster family I stayed at after my first owners mysteriously disappeared didn’t actually have the money to even take proper care of themselves, so at that time all I would get was whatever was left of their dinner that day, if there was even any left. It was mostly just greens. The lack of meat made me real sick at the time.”

He pauses talking for a second to look up at my face through the metal bars. The content look on his face quickly changes to one of worry once he catches my eyes. It’s no mystery why, I know I look at him pitifully. Even if he may not wish for my concern, I am only human. I can perfectly hide it when I need to, but this is not one of those cases.

“There it is again, that sad look on your face…” He sits up straight on the side of his bed to fully observe me, a tilt of his head giving him away. I send a sad chuckle his way as I reach for the door of his enclosure, inviting myself into the small space with him. He doesn’t object.

“Is it that obvious?” It was meant more as a way to lighten the mood, not as an actual question that needs answering. He still does however, giving me a simple slow nod. “You don’t need to feel bad for me.”

“Someone has to. You deserve at least that much.”

There’s a chair neatly placed under a small desk in the room. It used to be quite lively, with all kinds of bright colours blending into each other. It was a little positive additive into the dark grey room, but after all the anger that has been acted out on it, it no longer has that same shine.

I pull the chair out to place myself upon it, straddling the seat while I rest my arms on top of the back rest. Facing the tiger I use my arms as a pillow to lean my head on, making myself comfortable on the creaking furniture.

“Say, Taehyung, do you remember anything from when and where you were formed?”

He seems slightly taken aback at first, though quickly regains his composure. He also doesn’t immediately answer, first taking some time to think before coming back to me. “I was born a hybrid to two purebred tiger hybrids. They did their best trying to care for me in the little time we got to spend together, but seeing as it happened on a breeding farm getting to spend time with my parents wasn’t the plan. I got sold off pretty quickly, as soon as I learned to hold my first few full conversations.”

“Do you… Would you happen to know what happened to the farm? To your parents?” I fail to hide my apprehensiveness, needing too much space to form a careful approach. This shouldn’t feel like an interrogation to him, I never even announced one. There is little reason for him to answer me, the vital information from his side has already been given anyway. Nonetheless, even though I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now, I can’t just miss this opportunity.

“I heard my adoptive family talking about how the place was burnt down a while later. Most likely the police had caught a hold of it and they had to delete their left behind evidence. Both building and hybrids.”

Despite talking about the death of his parents, he seems to tell the story with relative ease. Probably not having much connection with the far past, his brain too young to truly hold on to the memory of them.

“They were successful too, as the case got dropped faster than lightning. It wasn’t long before the general public forgot about it too, believing it was just another misunderstanding. Besides, hybrid lives weren’t as important anyway.”

The amount of rights hybrids had when they were first created back in the day were close to zero, only strictly being seen as objects to show off whatever possible wealth one may have had. For a while there was even a popular theory going around that hybrids didn’t actually have the ability to feel any kind of emotion or pain. The genetic puzzle wouldn’t allow for it, as it had been tampered with to an extreme extent. This only built on the carelessness shown towards them, slowly chipping away at their sanity.

Although the rumours were wrong, they came from a place of truth. Facial expressions were rare for hybrids, as was the ability to speak. Most of them couldn’t even keep up with regular humans, exhaustion quickly taking over the little anger they could show. Scientists hadn’t yet quite figured out how to perfectly combine the pieces of genetic code and so hybrids were more like living dolls in the eyes of evil humans. Having no voice to object and barely any means to actually hurt anyone, it wasn’t much of a surprise the selfish nature in humans came to rise.

Luckily, or depending on how you look at it, sadly, these first generation hybrids were never able to reproduce. The doll like hybrid features eventually died out with the rise of the newly perfected pieces and the theory was debunked by a group of scientist who actually did care about the hybrids’ wellbeing. Those hybrids had lived through countless punishments, and every single one of them had hurt. A lot.

Right now hybrids in a lot of ways are superior to the rest of us. Having the combined senses of both animal and human alike, society has reluctantly given up on trying to contain them. They are still to be bought and owned, but no longer to be treated like dirt. The smartest of hybrids have even already gotten complete freedom to do as the please, no longer having to be bound to a human to roam freely. However, those unable to pass the close to impossible tests aren’t so lucky.

“I’m sorry about what happened.”

Taehyung gives me a reassuring wave of his hand, effectively trying to lighten the mood, along with a sad smile. It wouldn’t take a trained professional to know he still longs for his parent’s presence, even if he may do well hiding it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

That doesn’t make the situation more okay, but I hold my remarks back. For now, that might just be for the best.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @the8luvr @deathkat657 @elenaramos1 @namjoonies-dimple

[johnkrrasinski]

i want your midnights; 

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 1,749

Warning: fluff!! pure feelings 

Summary: this one’s written for the @mypoisonedvine​‘s festive writing challenge with the prompt “kissing at the new year’s eve count down.” there was only one person that you wanted to celebrate new years with and it was bucky barnes, the love of your life. 

a/n: not my best work but eh, i needed some holiday fluff with bucky. comment and reblog if you like! 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You straightened the skirt of your dress, trying to make yourself look presentable as you took a deep breath. To say you were nervous would be an outrageous understatement. You haven't played for a big crowd, let alone a crowd in awhile. The last time you were standing with identical emotions swirling through your stomach was when you were in your adolescent years. It wasn't because you grew bored of it, it was simply because you grew up and life had its funny way of surprising you. This occupation wasn't merely a job, it was a lifestyle. And this lifestyle didn't allow you to think that you'd ever have the chance to revisit this forgotten passion.

But here you were. About to perform one of your favourite songs on the grand instrument placed in the centre of the room and you feel like your stomach was sinking. You were good and you were adored. Suck it up and don't be a coward!

The ticking clock shows that it was three hours away from midnight. And the party was in full swing because it's New Year's Eve and Tony Stark was a man of flamboyant parties. And may God help you if he discovered your hidden talent.

"You should sing on New Year's Eve! Entertain the guests before midnight. What's better than live music at a party?"

"I don't know, Tony... I haven't sung in so long."

"You literally just did two minutes ago!"

"Okay first, that was in my room where no one was watching and second, you weren't supposed to see that!"

Tony walked up to the mini stage with a microphone in one hand and a glass of Champagne in the other.  "Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention? I shouldn't be asking, after all, you were invited to my party." The elicited a few chuckles from the guests. "Let me start by thanking all of you for coming here tonight..."

Tony's speech was muffled by the grasp around your waist by a familiar pair of arms. "Nervous?"

"Extremely."  You smiled despite the averment.

"Baby, don't worry. I've heard you sing and you have one of the loveliest voices in the world."

"You're just saying that cause you're my boyfriend, Bucky..."

"That's true, but the latter is also true."

You turned around in his arms and threw yours around his neck. "Thank you for the encouraging words. I feel a bit lighter knowing that you'll be in the crowd."

"My pleasure, darling." He kissed you with his hands still on your waist, holding you close but Tony's words disrupted your moment.

"We have a special and exclusive performance tonight. Please welcome, my friend, ____ ____!“

The soft claps welcomed you and it was your turn to take the stage.

"Good evening, everybody. I'm y/n and I hope you enjoy my performance tonight."

A sprightly "whew!" was heard and you instantly recognized Clint's voice.

Your fingers pushed the first few notes of the intro and the sound immediately changed the atmosphere in the room.

"There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby..." You sang to the microphone. "Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before but..."

"Don't read the last page but I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away, I want your midnights but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day." You still hadn't dared to gaze at the audience so you focused on looking down on the black and white keys.

"You squeezed my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's gonna be a long road. I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe," you didn't know why but your heart drove your gaze to the crowd and you instantly found the person you were singing for. "...Or if you strike out and you're crawling home..."

"Don't read the last page but I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes..." You didn't look away. You couldn't. Not when the love of your life was staring right back at you with those warm steel blue eyes. "I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day." You meant every word.

"Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you." This time your eyes wandered to the crowd, familiar and strange faces staring back at you with contented looks and you hoped these words would cling to them.

"...And I will hold on to you." Because they did to you and you did to the man standing a few feet away from you but your hearts and your minds remained connected.

"Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere, please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere..." A brief flashback played in your mind; the lovers turned strangers, the friends turned enemies, the loved ones turned ghosts. You barely heard from them anymore these days, but you could still remember their laughters, an epitome of the good memories. You hoped that this dynamic ragtag group of vigilantes would never turn into one of those tragedies. Another buried name that goes up to the monument.  

"There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor," your heartbeat hummed the euphonious melody, "...You and me forevermore." There he was. Smiling at you. Always smiling because you were the light of his life and his simpers were genuine and frequent now.

"Don't read the last page, but I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes, I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day, hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, and I will hold on to you." You chanted the closing lyrics and when the last note resonated, the guests' claps were louder this time, invigorating your confidence.

Everyone returned to their own things; catching up with their friends, laughing on the couch and drinking by the bar and Natasha was even standing behind it like a professional part-time bartender. Some were slow dancing and the others are already a little too drunk.

"That was beautiful, doll."

"You think so?"

"I know so. You got a gift, you shouldn't hide it from the world."

"I'm not trying to hide it, Bucky. I just... I didn't have the time with the world-saving and all. And music makes people happy, but it doesn't save lives."

"Well, if I don't know when I'll see you play again, then I'm glad at least we got tonight. And you're wrong, doll. You certainly saved me."

"Your words will be the death of me, Barnes."

-

Everyone gathered around, watching the big screen displaying the countdown to midnight. As the numbers go down, the more energized people become. Your arms were tangled with Bucky's, not wanting to be far away from the person you loved the most seconds before the year finalizes its chapter.

For a moment there, you felt happy. You looked around to see your teammates with smiles on their faces, stress-free and humans. This job hadn't allowed you to be just a human living a normal life. But tonight was one of the rare moments where all of you could just be normal people celebrating holidays.

And then there was Bucky, the man who had lived for a century, whose entire life was stolen away from him, and the man that your heart chose to fall in love with, and you were lucky enough that he chose you too. You had spent two Christmases together, and now you were entering another new chapter together, and there was no one else you'd rather wake up with an awful hangover with. There was no one else who would be there to give you Advil in the morning and deal with your mess.

5,4,3,2,1...

"Happy New Year!"

You and Bucky kiss, as all the cheers and noises, faded into the background. Bucky grabbed you close by the waist, and you had your arms around his neck trying to hold onto his lips as long as possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling all the overwhelming affection you had for him. Bucky felt it too deep in his bones, who would've thought that despite all the atrocities his hands had to commit, someone as beautiful and wonderful as you would love him despite it all? Would kiss him on New Year's Eve and would stick with him through another year?

"Happy new year, darling."

"Happy new year." You couldn't fake the smile forming on your face. “I can’t believe it’s our second New Year’s together.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my New Years with.”

“Are you saying you’re willing to spend the rest of your New Years dealing with my cranky hangover moods and pulling my hair back when I throw up?”

“As long as it’s you, I’m ready for pretty much anything. You’ve had my back and picked up my mess when I was at my worst, doll and I didn’t deserve it, but you did so without asking for anything, and I’m willing to do the same for you.”

You nearly teared up at his words, the past two years hadn’t always been the smoothest road with rainbows and butterflies for you two. You stuck with Bucky through his nightmares, panic attacks and his therapy sessions and you loved him despite all his open wounds and permanent scars, and Bucky had never felt luckier to have fallen in love with you too along the way. It began with a friendship and bloomed into something deeper, and the last two New Years that you had spent together reminded you that you could walk through every hurricane that life threw at you as long as you were together.

“You always knew how to calm down my fears and lift up my spirit and I’m eternally grateful for that.”

“Guess we’re just perfectly imperfect for each other, huh?”

“Guess we are.” He kissed you again with a huge smile on his face and zest for writing the first page of 365 pages with you.

[silverswanqueen]

I mostly disliked RWBY since V3 because the dark turn and how they went about it I just subjectively didn't like(I was expecting it to be more akin to Harry Potter or Avatar The Last Airbender) and now its seems like its going through the same song and dance I've seen with Fate: Zero, Akame Ga Kill, Madoka Magica and Gen Urobuchi's other works. I get the points of those works, being righteous, moral, and noble in the face of tragedy, but I've just grown tired of it. But so many stans have built their ego and identity around these works that they can't allow anyone to openly and subjectively not like something anymore. And holy shit have I never felt the brunt of that than from the RWBY loyalists.

idk I'm not pretending I am speaking objectively here, but I feel like the very fact RWBY seems to becoming this kind of dark is what's drawing blind fanatics who hold it up as one of their secular religious texts and Monty as one of their patron saints, with the other works and writers being their other texts and prophets respectively

"It's awesome because its tragic and well-earned happy endings are bad"

One wonders how Inuyasha, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Harry Potter, The Star Wars Original Trilogy, or even Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Hammer's "The Devil Rides Out" would be received if they were made today and not back in the day.

Thanks for the ask and I hope my rambling isn’t confusing!

I definitely get where you’re coming from, and while I’m not familiar with Gen Urobuchi’s works I’ve seen the name enough to know there’s definitely a correlation there. I for one wasn’t necessarily upset with V3’s conclusion, but I was also much younger, didn’t have an attachment to Penny or Pyrrha like many did, and thought more would be done with the characters than what was accomplished. However, I recently did some research for my academics similar to this phenomena which I believe I can apply! However, I cannot say my explanation of it is the be all end all, because I cannot account for every RWBY fan who exhibits this behavior, so take it as you will haha.

There’s a certain pocket of literature/media that focuses on what’s referred to as the “Grimmdark,” I believe, and I’ve seen shows fall back into this phenomena of “everything must be hopeless and tragic, every victory must be pyrrhic,” and while that’s definitely a narrative you can go with, it’s spread to multiple fan bases and media over recent years. This narrative is an “infection,” since lots of social phenomena can be synonymous with an infecting trait. I compare it to Teresa Brennan’s “Transmission of Affect,” a huge study on social phenomena and how (and this is me paraphrasing) humans respond physically to social situations, meaning while the “process” is social and origin, its effects are “biological and physical,” which we can see with RWBY loyalists. They respond to the Grimmdark social infection and alter themselves (i.e. identification and physical response) to require this sort of social engagement. This altering of self is done unconsciously, and while I don’t want to get into the agency of self, the self is affected by environment, and the environment of the Grimmdark, as a result, directly influences the self. They are “infected” with the Grimmdark, and thus must engage with it. Now this isn’t bad, since the transmission of affect exists and works on all of us in many ways, but it can breed some negative results, and I think the RWBY fandom is one of them.

Now, to preface here, I’m not bashing Monty. I was still an avid fan when he passed, and I still look up to Monty to this day because of his talent and passion as an animator. But Monty… he wasn’t what I would call the best storyteller, because he was very impulsive. He would think of something, hot potato it to Miles and Kerry, and sometimes the additions would break canon a bit. Add this in with the transmission of affect which has already been in the works with the Grimmdark storytelling for some time, and it eventually attracts those “infected” by it, and as a result, breeds a toxic environment. It’s completely fine to like the Grimmdark and be, as I say, “infected” by it, but to allow this fascination with it to declare a subjective view of how storytelling should be as objective is the exact issue the fan base of RWBY has.

RWBY has fundamental writing flaws and thrown in ideas that aren’t implemented in such a way to flow coherently with the rest of the currently set narrative and world-building, and often breaks the canon that leaves the loyalists scrambling to pick up the splinters and create headcanons that allow the world-building to remain untarnished for them. This is what causes the disconnect, because those that cling to the Grimmdark as the objectively correct way to tell a story are not only trying to say it must be dark, but also the way it was written, aka the method in which we’ve gotten to this dark conclusion, is the way it must be. This is where the issue is, because they see criticism as an attack on the Grimmdark and not a critique of the writing mechanics utilized within the Grimmdark.

Subjective criticism is suddenly viewed as attacks on things that are objective. And this is one of the huge problems that many fanatics won’t understand they’re perpetuating, or simply don’t care that they are perpetuating this issue. The Grimmdark is fine, but the Grimmdark is not the be all end all of storytelling.

I could ramble more, but this is getting a bit lengthy. Essentially, yes, you’re right, they cannot allow someone to subjectively dislike it, because to them, there’s nothing subjective about it.

[likeadevils]

hey! for your post about sun moon and rising but with taylor albums, can you list out the characteristics of each album? i'm having a hard time associating them and it'd make it a lot easier, if you could do that :)

oh totally! Its really all about your personal association, so i’ll give vibes for the era and the album. a good rule of thumb is to read the prologue if you want the tone for the era quickly. honestly, there’s no set system, go wild

taylor swift (2006) “debut”

era: blue and teal and brown. cowboy boots and sundresses, wild curly hair, trucks and mud and wildflowers. very 2006, very high school, very country

album: swings between pining from a distance and wanting to destroy a boys whole ass life and feeling like you have no friends and no one understands you in the whole world. like I said, very high school, but also full of whole ass bangers

fearless (2008)

era: yellow and white. 24/7 prom. she’s got the fairy tale aesthetics set in high school, she’s got calling your ex boyfriend out on national television, she's got so many headbands. god to be 8 years old when the joe jonas/taylor swift drama was going down

album: again, fairy tale set in high school. lots of crushes, lots of realizing men aren’t shit. it’s about the pull between childhood ideals and real life tearing them down, and deciding how much you should cling to your dreams and how much you have to let them go. it’s also a pull between knowing that these little moments are kinda ridiculous but also taking everything so goddamn seriously

speak now (2010)

era: purple purple purple. she’s starting to grow up! her look has evolved out of sundresses and prom dresses and into a more preppy style. she’s moved out of fantasy and into this like. circus aesthetic? 30s movie type thing? watch the mean music video, idk how to explain it. her hair is still curly and but under control, and she’s solidly Famous at this point. the idea that she can’t sing is Big, and the man-eater stereotype is starting to get popular 

album: she’s starting to grow out of country. she’s experimenting with rock, but her pop sound is starting to take off. it’s all about Dramatics: she’s experienced her first heartbreak, broke someone else’s heart, and was in an emotionally abusive relationship all within two years. she’s moved out of her parents house and is both infantilized and forced to grow up to fast by the media.

red (2012)

era: its 2012 hipster style. her hair is Straight and she’s wearing vintage dresses everywhere, and she’s posting sketches of red lips and quotes from fitzgerald about heartbreak and finding yourself on instagram. she is dating and breaking up with harry styles Very Publically, and its the last major relationship she’ll have for two more years. the idea that she dates to much is everywhere, and she’s being slut shamed to an insane degree, while also being dismissed as a goody-two-shoes

album: it’s designed so each song has the opposite emotions of the song before it. it’s dramatic and it’s heart wrenching and it portrays these relationships that were toxic and messy and captivating. has the last vestiges of country, some more rock, and the first pure Pop songs, all nestled against each other to give you the epic highs and lows of being 22

1989 (2014)

era: its the height of her stardom, and she’s more beloved then she’s ever been and (probably) will ever be again. she’s cut her hair and moved to New York, she’s wearing high waisted stuff and taking polaroids, and she’s been single for two years and it’s has given her the freedom to find a “tight” group of friends and herself. shes talking about third wave feminism all the time, she’s papped every day, and she started dating c*lvin h*rris; they date for a year, he was the first boyfriend to be posted on social media, and the one she was with the longest (until her current bf). publically, she’s the happiest and most successful she’s ever been. personally, it’s more complicated, especially by the last few months. “she lost him, but she found herself and somehow that was everything” and “from the girl who said she would never cut her hair or move to new york or find happiness in a world where she wasn't in love”

album: single handedly brings 80s pop into the mainstream. (like seriously, her only contemporary influence is lana del rey, and even that is only on a few tracks. listening to this when it came out was a religious experience). it sounds basic now but only because she influenced all of the pop music that came after her. its also her first sonically cohesive album since fearless. subject matter wise, its very 80s movie. it’s the first album without a break up song that ruins a man's whole career— no cold as you, dear john, or all too well type. the relationship is on and off again, but more muted and mature then the tumultuous ones portrayed on red. its very star crossed; two people who just can’t find the right time. she’s also writing about how fame has affected her— blank space, shake it off, and i know places all directly reference it, but the idea that the whole world is watching is woven all throughout the album

bleachella (2016) 

this isn't an album but its definitely an era

taylor has become so oversaturated that people are starting to turn on her, and her mental health is suffering. her relationship with c*lvin h*rris is falling apart, she's changing her hair every couple of moths (most notably she bleaches it, and goes to coachella. so like bleachella), and then all of a sudden The Phone Call happens. kim and kanye release edited footage of a phone call that makes it seem like taylor swift is a liar who intentionally plays the victim to stay in the public’s good graces, and the world pounces on it. between that and the idea that her friend group is super cliche-y and exclusionary, her reputation is ruined and she goes in hiding for months. before going into hiding though, she breaks it off with c*lvin (he throws a FIT on twitter) and starts a whirlwind romance with tom hiddleston that includes them flying all over the world on vacations and meeting each others parents super quickly. this all happens in one summer.

reputation (2017)

era: black and white and gold. very edgy, very rich, lots of snakes and casual wealth. there’s the aesthetic of her being very hurt and defensive and lashing out, but the reality of her being the happiest she’s ever been. she’s still famous, but she’s learned how to have a private life and healthy relationships. the tough times have shown her who and what’s important to her

album: pretty much that. the first half is brash and bombastic and playing off what people expect her to be like, how they expect her to fall in and out of love quickly and manipulate those around her to see her as a good person (while exploring sounds that no one expected her to explore) and the second half slows it down and shows her falling in love more explicitly and sweetly and under cover. “in the death of her reputation she felt truly alive” and “finding love through all the noise”

lover (2019)

era: bright pink and pastels and bright colors and happiness and butterflies!! she’s in love and beloved by the general public again, but all of her past albums have been stolen from her by a man she thought she could trust. sadly cut off short by covid. “step into the daylight and let it go”

album: her messiest album (sonically) since red. a popular saying when it first came out was that it had the writing of speak now but the sound of 1989, which is... understandable? its the kind of thing you have to form your own opinion on. it’s on the surface all bubblegum pop and being in love, but it has some of the absolute saddest songs of her entire discography. a 18 song long rollercoaster

folklore and evermore

preface: these are definitely two separate albums and there’s a definitely a difference but this girl has so many albums and it’s taken me an hour to answer this ask and it’s 1am right now so i’m gonna smush them together. go listen to them, and we’re in the era right now

eras: it been covid so all we’ve got are a couple performances and the album visuals. cottagecore, a return to the small town setting of her first two albums, very understated and timeless. one noteworthy element is that both albums were surprise releases (especially after lover had almost a year of build up that kinda worked against it). she’s reached a level of artistic respect that she’s never had

albums: folklore is a level of sonic and thematic cohesion comparable to 1989, as well as having a similar feeling of like. oh god we’ve been waiting for you to make an album like this for years and you’ve still exceeded every exception and made it surprising. evermore is mostly a continuation of its sound, though it’s a bit more experimental. both albums are incredibly mature, and move into non-autobiographical storytelling for most of the songs. it’s easy to build your own world based on one or both of the albums. their main themes are also mostly divorced from relationships, and more tied to personal identity and mental state (though there is quite a bit about divorce and heartbreak in both)

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Carenzo | Caroline Forbes x Enzo St. John (The Vampire Diaries)

"Thinking of jumping down and trying to walk across it?" Enzo asks from Caroline's right, sitting beside her on the stairwell. His tone is light, joking, one that she hadn't quite realized she'd missed all these months they've spent apart. 

She sniffs, sucking in a deep breath that only makes her chest hurt, and lifts her head up. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, staring at the buildings stretching out in front of her as far as she can see before the snow makes it impossible. 

"The thought crossed my mind," she admits, cracking a slight smile. "With vamp speed, we could probably get to the airport just in time. Compel a pilot if the flight's cancelled." She looks at him, blinking once or twice to see him better as she pulls a teasing look, nudging his shoulder. "Or we could just get you to fly it, Captain Lorenzo."

Enzo chuckles at the emphasis she puts on his name. It eases a little bit of the twisting in her stomach, her smile a little more genuine as she watches him duck his head for a moment.

"I actually didn't go by my right name back then," he tells her, and she raises her eyebrows, but he shakes it off. His eyes and his smile turns sad as he gazes at her. "I'm sorry about all of this, Caroline. I know you wanted to be on that flight."

She did. She needed to be on it. Lizzie and Josie are counting on her. Were counting on her, and now she's probably going to have to let them down. Again. She had told herself she would be there, especially after everything that's happened with them lately. 

"It just wasn't supposed to be like this," she says, shaking her head. "I was only supposed to be gone a few months. I wasn't—wasn't supposed to miss Christmas, or their birthday, or—"

She clamps her mouth shut, her throat aching like it's made of sandpaper.

"I just wanted to be there."

There are only so many holidays she's going to get with them. Even without the merge, she was always going to outlive them, and she's hated the thought since the day they were born. But it's so much worse now. 

"They have six years left," she says quietly, her voice shaking and her chin wobbling. "And I am running out of options. I just—I just wanted to be there, you know? For one day, at least. To see their faces light up. To watch them just be happy, without having to worry about any of this, to just—to just be there with them, as a family, and I—I just wish I had my mom because I am so lost and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

She breaks down completely, sobs racking her body in a matter of seconds. Enzo's quick to pull her in, his arms wrapping around her as she closes her eyes against the tears and all of it. It's too much, too overwhelming. Everything hurts too much and she hates it, and why does this keep happening? Why can't something just go the way it was supposed to, why can't she be allowed to be happy?

"It's alright," Enzo murmurs into her hair, one hand stroking her back, her face buried in his chest and hands clinging to him. His voice cracks ever so slightly, and he tries to clear it. "Let it all out, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere."

She can't begin to express how much relief the last part brings her, even if it fills her with so much dread as well. Everyone who promises they aren't leaving her finds a way in the end. Even the immortal ones. She just hugs him tighter, letting herself believe it for this one moment, because she needs this. She needs him.

They just sit there. She doesn't know for how long, but Enzo never once stops talking to her, his voice soft and soothing. Slowly, the bubbling of pain and guilt and too many other things that are tearing her apart from the inside starts to ease until it's a gentle simmering. Her sobs turn to sniffles, the tears eventually dry, the shaking in her body turns to shivers. 

Enzo pauses, and she can't see him but she can feel his chin move from her head and assumes he's looking at her. "Cold?" he asks her with concern in his voice.

Caroline huffs out a soft laugh that holds the smallest fragment of humour. "Freezing. So much for vampires being immune to everything."

Enzo chuckles along with her, one of his hands moving to her arm, rubbing through her thin coat. She curls in closer to him.

"We still function as humans," he reminds her. "Even we're not immune to frostbite. Immune to dying from it, yes, but getting all of the symptoms of it where our hands go numb and can't move? Unfortunately, no. Probably not the best idea to be sitting outside in the coldest weather of the century."

Caroline hums her agreement. Her throat is still aching, rubbing raw every time she talks. 

"Here."

She feels Enzo move again and pulls back slightly to look at him. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as he produces a scarf seemingly out of nowhere.

"When you came up here, I was going to follow you but figured you'd end up on the balcony in our room," he explains as he winds it around her neck, adjusting it to wrap it around and back down. "But then I remembered the key, and I saw the door coming out here open. You've always had a thing for being outside when you're upset."

Despite all of the crumbled, broken pieces inside of her, she smiles a little. He pauses, checking to make sure the scarf looks okay. She just gazes at him as he gently moves a few strands of her hair until he pulls his hand back. Alarm rises in her as he begins slipping his arm out of his own jacket.

"What are you doing?" she asks him as he takes it off. 

"You need it more than I do," he simply says. 

Caroline starts to protest, but he's already wrapping it around her shoulders, seemingly unfazed that he's now sitting in the middle of a snowstorm in nothing thicker than a flimsy long-sleeved t-shirt. 

"But you just said—"

"Darling, I meant you're not immune to the cold," he cuts her off, shaking his head. He has a faint smile as he adjusts the jacket, pulling it closed around her. "I've endured much worse than a chill. Trust me, I'm perfectly fine. I can barely feel it anymore."

Caroline's heart sinks. It always does when she knows he's referencing his past in Augustine but trying to veer around actually saying it. She watches his face as he continues playing with the jacket, and then the scarf, making sure they're both just right enough to keep her warm. 

"I'm glad you're here," she tells him softly, making his hand falter and his eyes move back up to hers. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would get through this," he says, completely serious and sincere. His hand is still hovering next to her, a few strands of hair between his fingers. "You would be upset, but you would pull yourself together, and you would find a way to get on that plane. Even if it meant you had to march right through this snow and demand that the plane takes off otherwise you'll fly it yourself if you have to."

Caroline can't help but laugh softly at his exaggerated tone, his intentions clearly to make her do just that as his eyes sparkle with a flicker of happiness. She knows he's right, of course. It would feel so much harder if she was here all alone, stranded with little hope of getting home, but she wouldn't stop trying to find a way to make it happen.

She sighs, wiping her eyes, feeling the dried tracks on her cheeks. "Well, it's a good thing you're here then, because putting me in control of a plane definitely wouldn't get us home."

"Nonsense," Enzo says, grinning, wrapping an arm back around her shoulders. "You'd make a damn good pilot. With some supervision."

"Oh, high praise from an ex-captain," she jokes, then pauses. "It is ex-captain, right?"

Enzo nods. "Yes. That whole part of my life is in the past."

Caroline just nods back as he shifts to lean against the wall behind him, pulling her closer. She settles against his side, tucked under his arm, her head on his shoulder. There's no hope of the snow stopping any time soon, and by the looks of it, they don't have much of a reason to be in any rush anymore. 

A beat passes, silence falling over them like the snow blankets the ground. She listens to the beating of his heart as her own finally slows back to an even pace, the anger and frustration and guilt seeping out of her, leaving her nothing but exhausted. 

"Can I at least ask what your alias was?" she asks softly, her curiosity poking at her as she looks up at him with a slight raise of her eyebrows. 

Enzo glances at her, then smiles.

"Michael Quinn," he answers with a strange raise in his accent, slipping from the gruff, charming British one she's used to, to a slightly softer American one.

He gives a laugh at her obvious surprise and confusion, and his voice goes back to normal.

"I adopted a completely different identity back then. Faked an accent, pretended to be American. It was easier to blend in."

"That makes sense," Caroline agrees, but can't quite wrap her head around the idea of an American Enzo, even if just for an act. 

"I started off a pilot in '42, because of World War One," he continues, to her surprise. "By '52, I was made a Captain of the US Air Force. I ended up working with the government. Shocker, I know."

Caroline's definitely thrown, that's for sure. "I thought you weren't allowed to talk about this?" she questions. 

"Well, considering all of the people I worked with back then are more than likely dead now, I think I'm safe," Enzo says, shrugging. 

Caroline nods slowly. His logic makes sense. And if he thinks it's safe to talk about then who is she to argue? It's not as if she wouldn't like to know more about this secret part of his past.

"So, the government?" she asks, twisting around in his arms and resting her chin on his shoulder. "What, did they have some shady secrets? Oh, did it involve alien conspiracies? Please, Captain Quinn, tell me this story has aliens."

Enzo laughs, and it makes her feel a little more at home for a brief moment. This storm will pass, she thinks. In all senses.

She'll call Alaric, somehow, and let him know what's going on if he hasn't already been filled in. They'll work something out. She will find a way back to Mystic Falls, even if she does have to compel someone to fly them home.

[yumestar19]

Can you make him confess... his sickness!?

When they heard Christo moaning, the demons instantly knew something was wrong. Even Red Magnus let his fist drop and stopped in the middle of his training to face his troublesome-looking friend.

"Are you okay, Christo?" Red Magnus asked with a smile that was too cheerful for Christo to look at, so he dropped his glance.

"I'm fine." He simply said, shaking off the sick feeling that made his limbs ache like... Damn, he couldn't even find a simile. He pushed two fingers against his throbbing temple, silently wishing for the pain to ease. Of course, this would have required luck and let's say luck was something he didn't have because his superior always picked up the worst horoscopes for him. His lucky word for today was "confession". Yeah... He wouldn't go that far...

As Red Magnus didn't stop glaring at him, (his stare almost screamed "suspect", Christo swore he had heard it), the tactician asked politely, "Why don't you continue training?"

"'Cause something's super wrong with you."

Christo's smile dropped, but he tried hard to make a good expression. At least, he had worn a smile for a split second, before the harsh coughing made him hide his face into the soft fabric of his cape.

"I'm fine", he mumbled, sounding less confidently than before.

"Ohohoho, nobody said anything about you not being fine just now" Seraphina's laugh hurt in his ears and he sunk deeper into the fabric, closing his eyes.

"But my, you really look pale", she said at least with a compassionate tone of voice that made her sound like a worried old lady.

"Don't you two have anything better to do than mocking me with your lame jokes?", Christo asked and looked up when he had made sure that there was no blush on his face anymore. Still, he felt like his cheeks were on fire and he could see on his friend's faces that they knew it, too.

That he, an angel, had come down with something only demons could catch.

A demonic sickness.

Damn, how he hated the small grin on Seraphina's face.

"If you are truely sick, then I may need to drop the "you're an angel" attribute of mine, because only demons can get sick, but you should know that."

Christo growled to himself. Why did this spoiled princess always twist the knife into his wound? Didn't he feel awful enough already? Wait, he just needed to think hard... Think hard, think hard... Damn, his headache was killing him. And still, he didn't know how to escape from the situation.

"You know, I don't know why you always mistake me for an angel. Do I have anything in common with such low creatures?" While saying that, he imagined the dumb grin of his superior and it felt so right to continue talking, "Angels are disgusting, awful creatures that will surely accuse you of anything randomly, like... They don't even have proof-supported reasons!" He shook his head like he couldn't believe it.

"So, you're calling me an angel, Christo?", Seraphina asked with a grin wider than the devil's mouth when consuming helpless human souls.

"Y-Yes, ehm no, of course not, no one's an angel here..." Christo looked around like he wanted to make sure. Sweat dropped from his forehead and he was now sure that his body temperature has risen to 200°C, at least it felt like he had developed a moderate fever. Damn, when did the atmosphere turned so hot? Even his throat felt sore and burned and it didn't help with the cough. Oh, when did he cough? He forgot to cover his mouth and yes, they heard it loudly.

Double failure: Usalia and Zeroken just came around the corner.

Now, he was ready to burst into flames.

"What's wrong with you, plip?" A worried child voice squeaked out. Usalia ran as fast as her small legs could carry her and she stopped sharp in front of him. The noisy scratch of the wooden floor made Christo grit his teeth.

"Nothing, nothing", he replied, keeping his composure. Of course, he felt fine. Of course, he was okay. He sense the alrightness throughout his entire body. NOT. (Expect you took away the bone aches, the clogged-up nose, the killing headache and the irritating feeling in his throat, but who would be so kind to stop his suffering? No one, of course.)

"You moaned about your pain a few minutes ago", Red Magnus reminded him.

Christo sighed and looked at all of them. Anger formed a knittering winkle over his nose. Somehow, however, he managed to not shout at them, as it was obvious that they weren't the cause for his malaise.

"Don't you all have something better to do than messing up with another person's life when they are in the middle of a cri... Critical thinking process?" He bit his tongue, surely he almost let the truth slip out. He shook his head and shook it again and again, until he felt so dizzy that he needed to steady himself with one hand on the wall. He smiled like the support made him look cool, when in fact, he looked like he was about to fall over. Zeroken rushed on his side and couldn't stopped himself from making an 'Awwww'-sound.

Of course, God hated him.

"Nawww, you look like a drunk."

"Have you got yourself a drink, plip?"

Christo was short before shouting that angels didn't carelessly drink (although he wondered if his superior had one glass or more whenever he called for stupid reasons), but he kept his mouth shut. There was the urge to cough, building up like a small fire that turned quickly in a major fire. How long was he able to resist? How long could he breathe? He heard the rattling, the little shakes in his voice when he spoke.

"I'm really... fine. Just a little... tired from... thinking."

'Or perhaps, a little bit too much tired from dealing with all of this disturbing non-sense', he thought for himself. It was then that he realized he was tired. Really tired. He could doze off in an instant. Of course, that was no option... Not here, not in front of them.

But this wooden floor almost seemed comfortable... He just needed to let himself fall on it, curl up and sleep. Every problem of his would be banned from the dream world. No pain, no cough, no sniffle, no disturbance.

He still had his pride though. That's why he didn't fall for it...

"Christo, you seem kinda pale. Better sit down." Killia advised him.

Of course, he didn't listen. He just focused on the voice. Had Killia's voice always sounded that soft and lovely like the singing voice of an angel? If so, he hadn't noticed until now. Perhaps, feverish illusions. He was fine with them.

"I'm okay, sweetheart", he said.

Wait... Did he just call Killia 'sweetheart'? Surely, the fever must have gotten higher. He shook his head and he immediately regretted what he just said.

"I knew he was gay!" Seraphina shouted half-angrily, half-victorious. How could a person be angry and victorious at the same time? It was a question that Christo never considered asking. But suddenly, he really wanted an answer. But first, he should clear the misconception.

"I'm not gay", he told them. Quietly. It was almost a whisper.

"You speak without confidence. I just found you out", Seraphina said, adding her usual Ohohoho-laugh at the end.

"I'm not gay!" Christo said now louder. It didn't help with his sore throat. He felt the fire burning. In his heart, too.

"If anything, I'm pan."

"Gay or pan, it's the same though", Seraphina told him.

"It's not the same, Seraphina." Killia told her. Surprised, she turned around and looked at him with her mouth open.

"And you consider yourself...?"

"Bisexual", Killia said with a bright smile.

Now, they were talking about sexual identity. Great. Christo really meant it. It was great that they didn't focus on his ill... He shook his head. He wouldn't even call it sickness for God's sake. He would go with "a little bit under the weather". Nothing several. Maybe, he should think about renaming it after his harsh coughing send him mercilessly down on his knees.

And the attention was back on him again.

He heard steps coming closer. Felt like a horror scene. Shadows were above him. The air was thick and it was hard to breath. He swallowed and it hurt. He clinged on his chest as the pain grew inside him. First, a little pounding, he could bare it, it's okay. Then, as the coughing started again, the pain was a cross over his chest, squeezing all the air out of him. Felt like monsters were laying their cold hands on him, suffocating him. He gasped for air. His breathing was out of rhythm, something between deep intakes and short outcomes. Almost like a panic attack. Was he panicking? He didn't know. Didn't want to know. The pain was the only thing he could focus on. And his breathing. He needed to calm himself down. Breathe in, breath out. Damn, why was something so simple so hard right now? Rattling. Didn't sound good. Should he sit up? Should he lay down? Was he able to move?

Questions overhelmed him. Unregular like his breathing. Uncontrollable. He was desperately trying to grab answers. Grabbed someone. Who was it? A demon? He would have laughed if he had had breath for it. He was safe. Maybe, he thought so. Safety didn't exist in the Netherworlds, did it? Why should he feel safe?

He pushed the hands aside with all the strength he could muster. His own hands reached for his bow and arrows. Could he make a hit in this condition? He wasn't sure. His finger trembled as he put them on the wooden grip. Sweat. He could taste it. Salty and bitter. He bit his tongue. The blood tasted like metal. Disgusting. He put the arrow between the arrow rest and shelf, then bend the strings. His fingers wouldn't stop shaking. Something awfully felt wrong.

The shadows stepped away from him. Scaried faces. Oh, he must be looking like a psychopath. His hair all messed up, his eyes red like blood, his pupils reduced to small points. Survival bonus. The tension of the string shook his body. He let go of it. Didn't saw what was hit. Just a sound similar to metal crashing. Then, everything went silent.

He smiled seemingly happy, then he crashed to the ground.

"Christo!"

Who was calling the angel's name?

It wasn't even his real name though.

"Christo..."

His name sounded funny. Was it a German word? 'Christ' maybe? Or did it come from the word 'Christmas'? He was born one day after the holy night. Coincidence, maybe?

"Christo!!"

Now, they were getting annoying. Voices calling out for a codename... Oh, wait, they didn't know it was one.

He was really dumb when being unconscious, wasn't he?

For the sake of not being called dumb, he opened his eyes, only to look into a burning light. He thought he was looking into the sun. Beautiful. Not really. It hurt.

He closed his eyes again, moaning. Maybe, rainy days were better days to get back to consciousness.

"Christo..." A quiet voice said.

"I wanna sleep", he replied, grabbing a pillow. He coughed softly into it. His throat still felt awful. Even more burning than before. He couldn't resist to the coughing urge, so he hid his face in the soft fabric, swearing to never let go of it. Somebody gently removed it from him.

"You need to keep your airways open" this someone said. It was Zeroken who put a worried glance on him.

"You really scared us, bro."

"I was so worried about you, plip!"

"Yeah, you made us super worried!"

"I'm glad you're awake." Killia said, even smiling a little.

"But you didn't need to attack us so suddenly, did you? Not that I was scared. I know how weak you are, ohohohoho!"

Christo looked up at them and met everyone's glances. Behind their kind faces worries lied. He couldn't even imagine how they felt right now. Maybe better than him. Maybe worse than him.

Maybe, they felt the same.

There was a call. From his superior. He didn't care for answering. Not now. He was feeling weak. Weaker than before. But somehow... Cooler.

He felt a cold towel on his forehead. Refreshing. He calmed down a little, he even relaxed. His thoughts were still a mess. He couldn't figure out where he was.

The underground was soft. A mattress? And there was a blanket... Though, he wasn't under it. He wished he did. He was shivering. Was it winter? Was there even weather in the Netherworlds?

No, he guessed no, Celestia hadn't snow either.

"Shhh, you are in the hospital" Killia explained while stroking through Christo's hair. It was a simple act, but it was good enough to calm the angel down.

"H-Hospital?" Christo asked weakly. He seemed to not know what it was. Something off the place. He shouldn't be here. He wasn't sick.

Coughing.

Maybe a little.

Harsh coughing.

Okay, he was really feeling down and ill and he had never felt that horrible in his entire eternity life.

His coughing eased a little. He put a hand on his chest in hope of finding the pain and rib it out. Then, he wouldn't need to feel it anymore.

This pain... It was cross-shaped. Though, he didn't know why he thought so. Just felt like it.

Someone put his hand on his. It was Killia. A warm touch. A wonderful feeling. If he hadn't been that sick, he might have smiled about it.

"Tell me what happened", Christo begged. He couldn't live with his ignorance.

"You attacked us, but you didn't hurt us", Killia told him.

"The healer said you had a high fever" Zeroken added.

"But a really really high one! Like... 41°C or more, plip!"

"A dangerous temperature for angels." Seraphina added. Her voice unusually cold.

"This was needlessly added" Christo said, "Cause I am not an angel!"

He coughed. Then, he coughed again. Suddenly, he remembered his lucky word.

Confession

Why was it so big in his head? The word felt out of place. It didn't sum up the story. Maybe he should just go over with it.

He opened his mouth, but he closed it in an instant. He didn't feel ready to tell them.

In truth, he never wanted to confess.

Especially not when all forces of the world were against him.

This couldn't be one of his lucky days. He knew it.

And when all of his friends were looking at him, troubled, worried, maybe even scaried, he couldn't tell them.

He looked away, breaking with all of their glances. He felt the rush of the fever. An energy draining and pushing at the same time.

He opened his mouth again. This time, words came out.

"I need to tell you something", he said.

"I'm actually... You see, I'm actually... An..."

"Sick, you wanna say?"

Killia was really a blessing. Christo just nodded.

It seemed like the confession took a little bit of his burden.

And soon, he would recover...

[theangrypokemaniac]

Since I rant enough about the wizening Ma and Pa received in Sinnoh it's only right to wreak bloody rhetorical vengeance elsewhere:

However harsh it may be, I'm glad Takeshi Shudo isn't alive to witness the hateful desecration of his legacy.

...

In a universe where no one's allowed to age, why are the modern Jessie and James so withered and decrepit?

Dragon Ball has been on for more than three decades. Its stars were permitted to grow up, because the head can cope with the opportunities this offers.

Yet Goku, Krillin, Bulma et al bear a greater similarity to their younger selves than these gurning invertebrates do to Team Rocket, wearing a papery approximation of their skin.

Akira Toriyama is actually concerned about his life's work, still coming up with interesting concepts, brand-new characters, and most importantly, values his audience by keeping to the established canon.

If a Dragon Ball fan reads this, I am so jealous of you.

Consider yourselves fortunate not to have seen the thing you loved the most pulverised and the resulting glutinous mass moulded back into makeshift sloppy cadavers.

Look at the state of that man! That's a good picture these days!

Why have the eyelid lines turned into upside down bags?

And why has she collected her lashes for this particular screen shot?

On eyes with a strangely feline slant...

Has she had a face lift?

Get yer money back on that one, love.

And why has he marks under his eyes and round his flapping gob to add the hint of exhaustion?

And why don't her lips reach the edge of her mouth anymore?

And why must he display Beaver Toof, as if he's only got six pegs left?

Giving it to him but not her implies she's lost the lot, needing to gum objects for a result.

And why do her low-slung ears consist only of lobe?

And why can you see his featureless lugs? Why does his barnet stand outwards in tentacles like he's taken to wearing a floppy Starmie?

What's that's meant to be, purple dreadlocks?

And why is her hairline curved and absolutely straight, like a bad wig, apart from the perfunctory bits to the side, which I guarantee won't alter their position throughout the run?

Hair used to move about, now by law there's a set pattern which cannot change. Stamp that life out immediately.

And what's that flaccid growth between his weary peepers? Is that meant to be fringe?

PFFFT!!!

And why are her digits just as thick and oblong as his?

It ain't fingers. It's trotters.

And why's he got a back to his throat, but she hasn't?

And why are we forced to witness it? You can see all the way to his dangler!

The great gaping pink cave looks like the end of Looney Tunes when Porky Pig pops up and stammers: "That's all folks!"

Remember a lack of Beaver Toof? And triangular mouths?

Remember when Meowth was a cheeky, spirited little cat, not a middle-aged human midget, an emaciated wreck bored of it all?

Remember when it wasn't deemed necessary to expose us to internal organs?

And when James was a handsome, hysterically camp dandy, not a creepy, snot-ridden science dweeb?

And when Jessie was a beautiful, stylish young girl, hot-tempered but loyal, not a sullen, cold, reptilian, Botoxed-to-the-gills gorgon?

Remember when Team Rocket were fun? And attractive?

Remember when they had joy in their hearts in spite of their poverty? And vim? And hope?

Remember them acting with flair and imagination?

Remember when their schemes had variety?

Remember when they had more than a single disguise per era?

Remember when they had many occupations? And were good at them?

Remember when they'd have a go at everything and weren't reduced to flipping condemned meat in a grotty burger van FOR THREE YEARS?!

Remember when those in charge didn't despise them, when they got happy endings?

Remember split screens? And face faults? And background tones? And purple streaks down your cheeks?

Remember big, bright open eyes, not shrunken, sagging and empty holes afflicted by glaucoma?

Remember when Jessie had eyelashes?

Remember when Pokémon was an anime?

And when James had a fringe, not a bent swelling like a balloon animal?

And when the artist could be arsed to draw Meowth's Charm properly?

Remember when the voices weren't nails down a blackboard?

When Meowth didn't sound like a wedge of coal grinding beneath an oil-deprived door?

When Jessie's dulcet tones had a wider range that just screechy, and weren't reminiscent of a cacophonous banshee clawing her way from a bog, using her own mug as a shovel?

When James speaking didn't suggest he was at best, suffering sinus difficulties, and at worst, constantly battling to swallow his own sick from looking at her?

Mind you, I'm grateful the 4Kids cast are no longer here. They deserve better, and their presence would only validate the crude bastardisations.

Every time the guttural howls reach my poor ears a chill runs through my system, and reminds me of The Pokémon Company sacking the real dub crew in preference for a job done on the cheap.

Remember speed lines? And Pokéball-throwing animation?

Remember a new motto performance in each installment, not the same stock footage reused again and again?

Remember when it rhymed?

It shows.

Remember remembering it?

Remember when Team Rocket would walk down the street in their uniforms and no one took a blind bit of notice despite the organisation operating there?

And they didn't fanny about in one scabby polyester costume every minute they were travelling, even when NO ONE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE?

Since Unova, whilst confronting Ash and this era's soon-to-be-forgotten companions, you get this exchange:

Moron-Of-The-Week: "Who are Team Rocket?"

Ash: "They're bad guys who steal other people's Pokémon."

EVERY SINGLE BLOODY TIME!!!

WORD-FOR-WORD IDENTICAL!!!

The writers have such deep appreciation for their work they're sending in cut-and-paste scripts.

Remember blasting off when something blew up, not an explosion from nowhere, or giving it the slip with a jet pack, or abduction by a Care Bear?

Remember when the eyebrows matched the hair?

Remember when he wore it long?

Remember blue shock? And sweat drop? And hammerspace? And comedy violence?

Remember her jagged hairline? And it being RED!!!

Remember proper highlights to it, rather than the odd white lump now and again, as if sweating like a pig, or their heads are infested with giant space ticks?

Remember when they were in all the episodes? And were main characters? And on the introduction sequence?

Remember when Jessie and James used to hug? And hold hands?

And bicker as only a couple can, but you knew they'd never cope alone?

Remember when they'd fly into each other's arms under the flimsiest pretext?

Remember when they meant more to one another than just being a pair of unconnected and disembodied wraiths coincidentally walking down the same road?

And they had more than civil interactions?

Remember when she loved him as much as he loved her?

And no one else could ever take his place?

And canon wasn't infected with the ruinous depiction of her as a hard, heartless bitch barely tolerating him until someone 'better' came along, at which point she'd fuck off without a backwards glance?

'Better', as in a scabby, satchel-mouthed, gormless cretin, just to add surly insult to merciless injury.

Never has such a life-long and hardcore defender of the faith flipped into an ardent Rumishipper as I did after that episode, once I'd swept up the fragments of my soul.

Remember when they were sympathetic?

Remember when they showed human warmth?

Remember when they cared about each other?

Remember when they weren't just a jangling, distorted mess of half-recollected traits?

Remember when they weren't really evil?

Remember Rocketshipping? That was a thing once, believe it or not.

Remember when they had a conscience?

Remember when actually wicked characters turned up, and Team Rocket ALWAYS sided with Ash, rather than the nauseating spectacle of suddenly being best buds with the Boss?

Remember when they had contact with the Twerps?

Remember when Team Rocket and the Twerps loved each other in secret and would endanger themselves to save their 'enemies'?

Everything that was once good and winning about them was sucked out, degree by degree, to leave the corpse, hollow and dead, strung up on wires as a grim marionette.

I'm sure most who see this will vehemently disagree, that I'm completely wrong, that THEY like them.

Yes, you like this three, but you don't like Team Rocket. This is not them. You have yours, and I have mine, but let's not pretend they are the same.

Why, if there is no difference, would I be so hostile, when they meant so much too me?

Did you ever wonder where the original fans went, why they all departed en masse? It's not because they 'moved on' or 'matured'.

They didn't leave Pokémon. Pokémon left them.

As the makers rely so heavily on repetition (sorry, nostalgia) they arrogantly expect us to still be here, having blithely welcomed our memories minced and our canon ripped up or ripped off, apparently.

We're intended to put up with watching them lay waste to ťhe series's body, clinging on for when a rotting bone is pulled up now and again and waved at us, before they chuck it aside to continue the dismemberment.

It's been eaten from the inside out, explaining the facial collapse. Behold the beauty on show:

You see what I mean, don't you?

Don't you? No, because otherwise you'd say the same.

How anyone feels able to describe three deformed freaks as 'hot' or 'cute' I will never comprehend.

The uniform collar protrudes like a solid pipe, emphasising the pencil necks.

It gives the impression of wrinkled, leathery tortoises peering out of their shells to secure a tasty lettuce treat.

Is that pretty? No.

Is it so surprising I don't care for my favourites to resemble melted waxwork skeletons of their own dæmonic counterparts?

S&M is a most fitting name, for this is torture.

In the film Death Becomes Her, Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn vie for the attention of Bruce Willis, both taking a serum giving everlasting youth and slimness.

The catch is it confers immortality, but not invulnerability, so when pushed down the stairs Meryl survives but is dead, her neck broken, thus she's zipped up in the morgue fridge.

When Goldie is shot with a canon she too rises, internal organs blown out.

The rest of the adventure involves the pair losing the war against time, patching up and painting over peeling grey skin, holding onto loose limbs as their bodies fall apart.

This obviously is the case here. The trio lapped the potion up at the close of Sinnoh, experienced a fatal accident and are now steadily crumbling to mush before us.

According to grave-diggers the head always goes first, so there you are then.

I have a suspicion that Giovanni lured all three to his crypt, experimenting on them to engineer his ultimate super soldier, which explains their flat, plastic appearance. Those since Unova began are the cyborgs, the real ones locked in his cellar.

You may notice I have about the lowest opinion possible of the current writing team, as they deserve.

Why should I have any respect for vindictive halfwits like this, who hate Team Rocket so much they're going out of their way to distort and uglify them, expressing the resentment in celluloid?

Jessie, James and Meowth lost their only defender in Takeshi Shudo. From that point they descended from loveable, hapless tragic figures to self-parodies (Hoenn) whiney, irritating divs dumping one another at every interval (Sinnoh), robotic, amoral scum (Unova and Kalos) and now physically repulsive minor additions (Alola and Galar). Is that trajectory all accidental?

It not that it's a new 'style' (for want of a better word), as were that the case, this hideousness would apply to the entire cast, but it's only done to Team Rocket. How could that be unless motivated by malice?

Given the sub thesps are obliged to prostrate themselves in the dust, begging fans to make their appreciation known, it smacks of desperation.

They wouldn't need to ask that were the trio treated as an integral component. They must sense the objections and are thus drumming up support to avoid the dole queue.

Are those in charge so resentful of their presence it manifests in mutilating them, keen to do anything that may alienate the fanbase, so at the first sign of a dip in popularity they can leap upon it as the perfect excuse to write Team Rocket out?

Why be surprised? These are imbeciles who reject their own canon at the close of every generation, so why care about someone else's?

If people have to harangue the writers with grovelling praise of their retcons, rehashes and all-round twatting about, butter 'em up sufficiently, with the implied threat of deserting the franchise should Team Rocket be ejected, taking their purses too, all so the smug, avaricious berks deign to put the trio in the next generation, that proves they don't want them, so how can what they write for their characters be objectively of any worth?

Team Rocket would've departed by now, were there not a palpable worry their absence might ring the death knell of the whole thing, turning off the financial tap, which is what matters.

Therefore they are retained, grudgingly, and only so long as the clamour continues at its current decibel level. If that drops it's over, and don't expect a romantic resolution. Why should pleasing you be a concern when you're to leave with them?

Ask yourself: how much of your devotion is based on what they are right now, and how much is from who they used to be?

How long can they live off past glories?

The offences done in Unova and Kalos were bad enough, but remarkably Game Freak found further depths to plumb, therefore it can only get worse.

I have of course retained the loveliest for last:

Be still, my beating heart.

No, really, be still. Stop infact. 

Planet of the Apes.