#at some point during Crystalized I realized it felt un-fun in a way

[figs-oliomedley]

March of the Oni good

@ninja-guy-yo​ ‘s post about Crystalized got me thinking about how good of a sendoff March of the Oni was. It wrapped up all the main characters’ story arcs while giving them all something to do.

Lloyd Fresh off the heels of Hunted and SoG, Lloyd initially doesn’t trust a word his father says. But when they get 1-on-1 time on the Bounty and in the city, whenever Garmadon shows the smallest hint of humanity (saving Lloyd from an Oni, looking wistfully at a pic of his past self), Lloyd immediately clings onto it, looking for the good in him that Garmadon swears doesn’t exist. He only backpedals whenever Garmadon does, angstily claiming “fine, he doesn’t care either >:’I” in an attempt to mask and push down his own feelings as well (it doesn’t work lol he’s too sweet). I think the perfect summation of their relationship is the scene on the Bounty. Garmadon looks at a past picture of him and Lloyd, struggling to remember the memory and what it felt like before ultimately brushing his feelings aside and throwing the image, cracking it and claiming that feelings of the past are useless to cling onto or something like that. Lloyd spitefully (angstily) yells back in agreement and throws the photograph in the trash, only to return a few seconds later and pull it out again. Despite everything Garmadon’s done to him, done to the world, Lloyd still loves and wants to trust his father (Crystalized FUCKED my boy what the fuck).

Jay Jay gets a subplot of trying ask Nya to be his Yang. After the rollercoaster of buildup and all the shit they and their relationship have been through, he’s finally ready to pop the question... iff he wasn’t so bad at it. In true Jay fashion he fusses over the “perfect moment” and getting it “just right”, his own awkwardness and anxiousness often contributing to ruining the mood (though his horrible timing doesn’t help either). He finally asks her in the final episode, and it’s a very nice cherry on top of their relationship that’s been building since before Season 1. He finally found the confidence to ask Nya while being himself, wrapping a bow on this ongoing plot thread in a heart-wrenching way (look I’ve been a Jaya fan ever since I was a kid, that scene hit me hard).

Pixal Pixal gets the chance to be badass as she dives head-first into a cloud-covered Ninjago City to save Lloyd and Garmadon, risking her life while she burns through her suit’s fuel above the cloud. Without her being there, the ninja wouldn’t have been able to save the others at the NGTV news building while also getting the Garmadons out of there. The scene where she narrowly avoids the building is so cool because like, they could’ve just had her miss the building. It would have been easier to animate, as they wouldn’t have had to worry about the effects of the sparks, or the Garmadons reacting to the impact, or the camera shaking and sound effects, or anything, but they did that for us. They had Pixal nearly collide with the building for dramatic effect and put in the extra work to really have us feel the tension. Just a really great moment for Pixal, she’s come such a long way from Season 3.

Cole Cole’s role in this season is actually HUGE, WAY bigger than you’d initially think. After his fearful encounter with the Cloud and death fake out, you think, “oh that’s it, just a cheap trick to create an emotional reaction.” But NO! Cole’s supposed fall to the cloud is super important in the way the story splits after this. The loss of Cole creates a huge gap between Garmadon and the others, which leads to his introspection and question about the meaning of life. It leads to the moment between Kai and Nya, which is super emotional and sweet. Even when Cole is revealed to be unfrozen he gets to do something. By getting to his car outside the building, he forces himself to face his fear of the cloud, harkening back to his initial fear of dragons in the Pilots. He forces himself to confront his fear and risk asphyxiation for the sake of his friends who need him, and I dunno how to end this, I just think it’s really cool and neat. :>

Zane While not as big or impactful as the others, Zane gets a little moment when he tells off Garmadon for thinking he’d be the “logical one” as a Nindroid, instead getting the chance to display just how human he is. He isn’t just “the smart one” or “the robot”, he’s Zane, and he won’t just avoid greiving his friend just because he’s the most “”intelligent””. This defiant stand is a real culmination of Zane’s identity problems.

Nya Nya gets a sweet moment with Kai after she blames herself for Cole’s fall. It’s probably the first genuinely good sibling moment they’ve had since like, ever. Kai comforts Nya in his own Kai way, stumbling over his words but still managing to say the things she needed to hear. After the encouragement, Nya then gets the idea to recreate the golden weapons. There’s a really nice comedic moment when she’s explaining it to Kai, who doesn’t quite get it the first few times, but after he does, she turns the encouragement back on him when he doubts that his blacksmithing skills could recreate the weapons. It’s a really sweet moment where both siblings contribute emotionally to the conversation and perfectly leads into the recreation of the weapons while acknowledging and discussing Nya’s guilt. She also gets a cool moment with Pixal as they speed towards each other, claiming “I’m not gonna lose another one today!” Fuck yeah girlbosses fuck it up

Kai The main man who’s no longer the main man and keeps getting sidelined lol. Ignoring Kai’s visceral reaction to Cole falling (I don’t think I could take it right now that scene is really good), Kai returning to blacksmithing after 10 seasons is a really, REALLY good way of having things come full circle. It perfectly shows just how far he’s come as a character by having the patience and experience to recreate these important and powerful weapons. Some may find it bogus or whatever, but in the pilots, the advice Nya gives to him while blacksmithing is to “be patient”. While Kai still has the firecracker energy sometimes, he’s grown, and now knows how to stifle and control the fire when he needs to, slowly and meticulously working to recreate the golden weapons. It is just, such a good way to circle back to the beginning of his journey and the entire series as a whole guys you have no idea.

Garmadon Evil daddio himself. At first you think, haha, this’ll be fun, Garmadon being a comedic and morbid foil to the ninja with his cynical take on life. But then after Cole’s “death” there’s a shift. Lloyd’s snap at him causes Garmadon to contemplate the real “meaning” of life. Up to this point there were a few hints that he’s not all evil, and the Cole event is what pushes him over the brink. They beautifully follow up on Garmadon failing to kill Lloyd during Hunted, being held back by feelings deep within his being, by showing him awkwardly trying to understand the others and be more “human”. The scene where he tries to smile at Lloyd becomes so much more sad and impactful when you realize that he wasn’t giving him a “haha I’m totally gonna betray you and run away just you watch”, it was a “you can trust me” smile. The way his attention holds on the picture of his past self is really impactful, and that conversation with Vinny man, *mwah* perfection incarnate, perfect blend of comedy and emotion, with a laid-back attitude thanks to Vinny’s way of speaking mixed with solemn contemplation thanks to the mood, music, and the stoic way Garmadon reacts, pure brilliance. And if you still didn’t get it, Omega taunts Garmadon for being more human than he lets on, trying to grapple (and in some cases, suppress) that side of himself that yearns to understand mortals that he pushed down in order to be an effective conqueror, but has been slowly coming to light.

And finally, the Monastery, the place where it all began. Having the fog start at ground level was the perfect way to ensure that the final stand be at the Monastery, high up on the mountain. The weapons are back, Cole reunites with the others, and everyone gets in a bit of butt-kicking before they’re forced inside. They once again believe this may be the end, reminiscent of their conversation in Season 2 when contemplating if this battle would be their last. Jay proposes to Nya and she accepts, which, <33333, and Lloyd gets the idea to try the Tornado of Creation against beings of Destruction, even getting Garmadon to join in (really cool to have Lloyd come up with the idea, since from the beginning he’s usually the one to offer a different point of view [the idea to look for the Serpentine underground]). There’s a really sweet moment where, as Garmadon’s watching the others begin the tornado, wondering is he should, or can, join in, he looks to the murals and sees the green Lloyd get covered by the darkness, hardening his resolve and finally spurring him into action (looking too far into it, but it’s also the first time he’s used his father’s art after being revived I think). After Lloyd meets the FSM and is brought back to life, there’s a sweet moment where the others bring him inside while talking with him, real found family stuff, you love to see it. Finally, before Garmadon leaves, he and his brother share a look, as Garmadon leaves. You don’t know where he’s going, but you get the sense that he isn’t going to bother them again, instead leaving to find his place in the world. Though him and Lloyd don’t make up by the end of MotO, I don’t think they could’ve satisfyingly with all the damage Garm’s done. But just standing by his son’s side once again is enough to signify that at least a little, their relationship is healing.  I could keep gushing about the final mural they make, the side characters we’ve gotten to know celebrating with them, the pan up to Firstborne, etc., but I think the scene speaks for itself. While a bit rocky in excution, March of the Oni was a perfect sendoff for Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu and the characters within it, giving each character an emotional and narrative contribution to the story while wrapping things up.

And then Season 11 opened with a fart joke :p

P. S. No hate to Season 11! I’m just joshing.

[beanwaterontherocks]

Reunited

(A little piece inspired by YOU and HIM by @you-and-him ! Lena is my MC for for the VN!)

(CW: Mention of injury and alcohol use)

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me”, Lena groaned, hoping that when she opened her eyes, he’d be gone, nothing more than an alcohol-induced illusion. But the familiar voice was crystal clear and the presence behind her felt like a million needle pricks on her back.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you again?” Adam asked, sitting down the creaky bar stool next to her. Lena opened her eyes; it was almost funny how out of placed he looked. He was every bit as pretty as the day they’d met, and it pissed her off. A member of a global musical sensation, sitting in a dingy bar that had visible blood stains on the old wooden floor.

Maybe this place fit him more than she had realized at first glance, it fit a side only she had seen. It was the stuff of nightmares, the kind of thing that had been in far too many horror b-movies. Lena didn’t feel scared, for some reason, maybe it was the…desperate look in his eyes.

She saw him in commercials, on posters and everywhere online. In the end, she couldn’t avoid the real-life Adam either. It wasn’t like she’d been trying to do that anyway, she drove the same car, the very car he’d lured her out of. The wound had stopped hurting by now, but Lena felt a phantom pang in her flesh.

“You know more about me than you lead on, I get that now, I’m flattered that you’ve come all this way”, she said, pushing her rouge pink bangs out of her face and she sat up, the scratched-up counter didn’t make a good pillow.

“Listen, I’m not going to try that again, can we just talk?”, Adam asked, politely waving over the bartender, he ordered a water.

“Well, unless you can find a way to un-stab me, I don’t really feel like talking to you”, she said, downing the rest of her whiskey.

“Did you tell anyone?” He asked, though he didn’t look the least bit worried. He knew she couldn’t, it’d sound too ridiculous.

“Who would believe that the sweet and kind Adam from CAKE tried to kill me?” Lena put a hand over her old wound. “I guess we match though”, she said, pointing at his waist. She would have preferred a friendship bracelet. Adam clutched his own healing injury, yet there wasn’t a shred of resentment on his face, he looked happy that she had said it.

That was the first time during their reunion where she had felt uneasy, he had changed.

“It’s hard to explain…and I will eventually. I’m happy that I didn’t go through with it”, he said, looking down into his glass, his cheeks were dusted with pink. He was oddly bashful about the whole ordeal, Lena still wasn’t fully convinced that this wasn’t a weird, drunken dream.

“That is the worst possible way you could have said it, tell you what, drink with me and we’ll talk”, Lena said, waving down the bartender.

“Whatever you want, thank you for giving this another shot”, Adam said, smiling softly at her.

This was the dumbest shit she had ever decided to do, and she had done her fair share, but at the same time, it was the most excitement she had felt in a while. Besides, he seemed sincere in not wanting to finish her off. God, the bar was all the way down in hell at this point.

“Shots! Great idea, I hope you like vodka”, Lena exclaimed in a teasing tone. Adam’s smile faded, his red eyes widening in building worry. Weirdly enough, she liked this look on him.

This should be a lot of fun.

[killashilla]

Protect AU: I have the Princess (and she has me)

The ballroom was awash in light. It glowed from the high-hung chandeliers, reflected off the shining skyscrapers around them, and danced from bedazzled guest to guest while they all chattered and laughed, but none could outshine Allura in all her glory. Her gown sparkled with crystal drops that rivaled her eyes, eyes that dazzled every parliament member and socialite she greeted with her bright smile and tinkling laugh. She was truly in her element, a beloved princess amongst her joyous people.

Allura was an expert at maintaining the façade of a gracious host, a skill she’d learned since she’d been a young girl, coaxed from behind her mother’s skirts to welcome visiting diplomats. It was great fun to socialize with all the charming young court advisors, but the names and faces belonging to each blue-suited figure began to blur as the gala went on.

Over at the front of the room, her father’s smile never faltered; he was ever the shining example of a benevolent king. His hearty laugh was contagious, while hers had begun to ring with insincerity after an eternity of small talk.

She glanced over at the one calming presence who could save her.

Shiro was easy to find. He was the unfaltering shadow at the back wall, his all-black suit in striking contrast with the crowd of glimmering pastels. As always, he was watching her closely and met her gaze. Allura could almost hear Shiro’s voice in her head as he quirked his brow questioningly. Is everything okay? Allura nodded quickly, Everything’s fine.

Moments like this kept her sane. Shiro had been her steadfast companion ever since her eighteenth birthday. He’d been nearly as young as she, only twenty years old but already with the bearings of a seasoned bodyguard. Allura never forgot their first meeting—the glimpse of a holster under his vest, how easily he stepped into position behind-and-to-the-right of her, the crooked smile he gave when she took in his intimidating height.

Years later, Shiro was still flashing her that same reassuring smile. I’m bored, too, he mouthed. She saw his dimples and felt his warmth from halfway across the room. Just a few more hours, that’s it. She was ready to return to her conversation when he suddenly stiffened and turned his piercing gaze to the front.

Time slowed; Allura’s eyes widened as Shiro reached into his vest and shouted for everyone to get down.

Behind her, shots rang out and the clang of metal and crystal meshed with the roar of her people’s screams.

She turned just as the chandelier came crashing down, too frozen with shock to register the sting of shattered glass.

And then Shiro was by her side. His hand found the small of her back and his broad shoulders shielded her from view as he swept her through a hidden panel.

“I have the princess,” He hissed into his comm. “Secure her exit, don’t let anyone else access her suite until we lock down and clear the building.” There was an affirmative crackle through the radio and a hollow clunk as the panel sealed behind them.

Allura’s blood pounded in her ears, and it was almost enough to block out the muffled sound of chaos and panic still echoing from the ballroom. Shiro barricaded her door shut before steering her into the bathroom.

“My father, where is he?” She hated how shaky and helpless she sounded but there had been gunshots . She couldn’t even bear the thought of—

“The king is safe, Antok got there in time.”

That means Antok took the bullet. Stone-faced Antok, who had been by her father’s side ever since she could remember.

Shiro drew close, working his jaw as he looked over her wounds. Allura could see them both in the bathroom mirror. Flying glass had left a cut over her ribs, one right above her cheek marking and several more scattered across her legs. She had begun to bleed through her dress, red blooming beneath the intricate swirls of crystal beadwork.

The more she looked at it the more it stung, so she looked at Shiro instead. His neat black hair had become disheveled during the action and she resisted to urge to run her fingers through his bangs. Despite the messy hair, Shiro seemed eerily calm and knelt down to unfasten her heels with steady fingers. When he lifted her by the waist, though, and set her atop the marble counter, she noticed how his jaw clenched tighter, heard him curse under his breath as his thumb brushed over the scrape at her side.

Allura reached out to cup his cheek, “I’m alright, really,” but he leaned away from her touch.

“Don’t. You got hurt and I was too far away to stop it from happening.” He was right. If she’d been standing a little more to the left, that grand chandelier would have fallen directly— No. Stop that. “You’re keeping me safe now, Shiro. I’ll be fine.”

He nodded stiffly and set about tending to her wounds. Allura watched him work and listened to the plink of glass shards on the counter. He worked his way up, holding her calf in place as he bandaged each section carefully.

“Who was it? Did you see the attackers?”

“Looked like some of Lotor’s followers. We doubled our security tonight for the gala but they still somehow managed to worm their way in.” Shiro lifted the hem of her dress to her thigh as he followed the trail of damage from the chandelier shrapnel. He dug the last of the crystal fragments from her leg, murmuring “Sorry” when she flinched.

“Maybe now Coran will hold back on all his party planning.” Allura mused, “I’d rather get crushed by a chandelier than listen to another advisor try to explain the war to me.”

Shiro chuckled, “Are you saying I should have left you in there? Tell me earlier next time, Princess, save me the extra work.” He laughed again when Allura kicked him, “All right, all right, now stay still.” He lifted her chin so he could inspect the scratch on her cheekbone. She obliged, freezing in place when Shiro slotted into the space between her knees.

Allura knew about the rumors swirling around their relationship, she’d heard people whispering about the guard who “played chess” with the princess late into the night and helped her get dressed in the mornings, even though she had a full wait staff at her disposal for just that purpose. They’d become close over the years—it was impossible not to when they spent nearly every waking moment together—but there was no denying the magnetism between the two, especially now that Shiro was literally standing between her legs and tilting her face closer to his. Allura’s gaze raked over his handsome features and saw his eyes widen when he realized his position. And before she could do anything to stop it, Shiro was stepping away to an unbearable distance. A professional distance, Allura reminded herself.

“That one’s just a scratch,” He cleared his throat, “Superficial.”

“Are you calling me superficial or the scratch?”

“Both?” The crooked smile and playful banter was back; but she wanted to return to the moment before it disappeared forever.

Not that it was the proper time to be having such a moment. She could hear the roar of helicopters now circling the skies and the sound of police sirens filtered up from the streets, a blatant reminder that they were still in crisis mode, that they would always be in crisis mode as long as the war was still happening.

“One more.” Shiro said, nodding at the bloody stain on her waist.

The slash along her ribs was starting to throb, and Allura hissed as a fresh wave of pain hit, “Yes, kind of hard to forget. Hurry up, if you please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” He came close again and hesitated before admitting, “We’re going to have to do something about your dress.”

Allura nodded, swept her hair over to one side, and twisted around so Shiro could reach the zipper. That was just part of the routine of having him zip her up and clasp her necklaces where she couldn’t reach. The difference this time is that he’s undressing me.

Shiro helped her shimmy out of the gown and let it fall in a glittering heap on the bathroom floor, leaving her in just her bra and underwear. He made a point not to let his eyes wander as he worked on the wound. They were silent as he took care of the glass and patched her up, listening to the chaos that raged on outside. His warms hands lingered on her hips when he leaned back with a quiet, “There. All done.”

“Can you imagine what the maids would say if they saw us now?” Allura sat up taller, daring Shiro to look. He finally did and drank in the sight of her nearly laid bare, eyes darkening. His breathing grew ragged and the hands at her waist slipped away to the brace the countertop as he tried to recover any semblance of decency.

“They’d pity me even more.” Shiro whispered, gaze flicking down to her lips before quickly returning to meet her eyes.

“What?” 

That wasn’t the teasing answer she was expecting, but then she recalled those whispers she once overheard. Poor Shiro, they’d said, He must know it’s hopeless. She’s only toying with him, and he’s got no choice but to go along with it. How stupid is he to fall in love with the Princess? Allura had brushed it off at the time; royal staff loved to gossip but they never meant anything by it. 

Now looking at Shiro, she saw the real, pained need in his eyes. How long had he felt this way? How long had she been torturing him with her careless flirting and late night games? He watched her piece it all together.

“Oh Shiro, you should have said…”

“No. This is my problem, not yours, Princess.” He grabbed her robe off the bathroom hanger and held it out for her to step into.

Allura realized how cruel the past years had been. She’d discovered early on the effect she had on him, that’s what made it so fun to tease him and toe the line of propriety, but she’d been a blind, selfish child. Shiro was normally so stoic and composed, and Allura was too pleased with her ability to chip away his dutiful façade that she hadn’t considered his feelings for her. I took advantage of him—of his friendship, his kindness, his devotion… I’m hurting him every day.

She wrapped the robe around herself and watched him retreat into the other room, where he tuned into the updates on his comm. At this distance, Allura saw him for what he was; tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, and dangerously tempting.

But he was back to being Takashi Shirogane, the bodyguard tasked with her life. Her Shiro was gone. Perhaps he never truly was and never truly would be her Shiro.

[[Also available on AO3]]

[yeehawbisexualold]

Old habits die hard, ok?

Requested by an anon: “i kissed you goodbye by accident - old habits die hard okay?!?!” for the prompt thing :)) 

Rated T. 1.5k words         

They’re watching a movie together. In a very platonic, strictly friends way. Because that’s the way they do things now—platonic and friendly, absolutely no intimacy besides the kind that comes with being close, comfortable friends with a person. Hugs and heads leaned on shoulders? Great. The occasional hand holding or cheek kissing? Fine.

A couple weeks before, things would have been different. They wouldn’t have made it twenty minutes into the film with out Emma’s tongue down Killian’s throat or his hand down the front of her leggings. And then after a round or three of some decidedly un-platonic actions, they would lay on the couch, sated, long enough to rewind to a point they both remembered and finish watching.

She had been the one to initiate the turn their friendship took—simply telling him they should have sex after a few too many drinks on a particularly bad date. He’d been hesitant at first. Wanting to wait until she was of sounder mind before taking that step, he put her to bed and told her they could discuss it another time. But all of his reservations flew out the window when she’d shown up at his apartment the next night with a bottle of wine and some lube (which he took out of her hand with a cocky grin and an “I don’t think you’ll be needing this.”)

She started it so it was fitting that she’d end it.

Emma felt that things were progressing into something distressing, a territory moving beyond the friends with benefits boundaries they had set for themselves. Killian’s gazes grew a little too long, a little too longing. And the summersaults being preformed in her stomach were in a league she was unfamiliar with. That, coupled with a few, too close for comfort close calls with David arriving at… unfavorable times, brought her to the conclusion that their relationship should go back to that of the simply friends variety.

Killian had taken it in stride. He’d sat silently through her jumbled rhetoric, observed her nervous expression when she finished, and said “No sweat off my back, Swan. Actually, there will be a lot less sweat on my back now that—” She cut him off with a hand over his mouth and a stern look. And in a brief bought of seriousness, he told her that he was fine with whatever she decided and only wanted her to be happy and comfortable.

She didn’t ignore him, per se, for the two weeks following that conversation but she also didn’t make it a point to reach out to him or really even return any of his calls or texts. But she was a big girl and while things may be awkward, she wasn’t willing to add further strain to their friendship. So after a “Don’t do this, Swan” text and a pep talk she gave herself, she texted him, asking if he wanted to have a movie night.

He kindly accepted, choosing not to question her as to why she’d been ignoring him. Which leads to where they are now, watching Remember the Titans on the couch in his living room, while Emma lies with her feet resting in a seated Killian’s lap, his hand resting on her ankle.

It’s good, comfortable even. The movie is one she’s seen enough times to where she figured it would be a safe choice in case she was too unbalanced to focus but, thankfully, she’s able to focus fine. There is popcorn and candy and they’re both relatively good at remaining quiet during movies, so there’s no awkward conversation.

It feels like what they did before sex got involved. She should have known it would be like this, shouldn’t have spent so much time aggressively ignoring him. Because Killian would never make her feel uneasy and the connection they’ve always had was solid and special.

It’s natural. Too natural.

After the movie ends, Killian shifts, grabbing her feet and standing up from under her before placing them back on the couch. He grabs the empty beer bottles and popcorn bowl, placing them in the sink.

“Alright, princess,” he sighs when he’s once again standing next to her. He takes her hands in his own and pulls her up. “I cherish your company but I also know you have to be up early for a meeting and I don’t dare to come between you and a full nights rest.”

“It’s not that serious,” she argues weakly, already walking to his front door with his hand at her back.

“Right. You’re perfectly good at functioning on little rest,” he says solemnly, opening the door for her. “I must have been thinking of the other Emma. She’s a right terror in the mornings, even with a long amount of sleep.”

He’s obnoxious and obnoxiously adorable so she does what she’s been doing for the past few months and leans forward to kiss him—as a goodbye and a way to shut him up. It’s a nice kiss for all but a matter of seconds before she realizes what she’s doing and that she's not supposed to be doing it.

She pulls back expecting… Well, she doesn’t know. Indignation? Anger? But all she sees is an open mouthed, dazed expression.

“Old habits die hard, ok?” she explains, trying not to appear flustered but she can feel the heat in her cheeks. “I—” She doesn’t have any more words though because she doesn’t entirely have thoughts right now besides what the hell did I just do? So she spins on her heels and walks away, leaving him standing, slightly shell shocked, in the doorway.

He texts her the next morning and tells her that he understands perfectly if she needs space but not to take it on his account, that he realizes that it was just a slip, falling back into a familiar pattern, and he’s not upset. And she just… adores him, with all of his kindness and acceptance and understanding. She wonders if she possibly made the wrong decision in ending their friends with benefits situation. Maybe, instead, she should have done the opposite and progressed it.

Once that thought is in her head, she can’t get it out.

If it were anyone else, she’d be driving herself into a tree rather than entertaining these thoughts. But it’s Killian. So instead of contemplating suicide, she decides she needs to talk to him.

When she shows up at his apartment, unannounced, he appears mildly surprised but opens the door widely and extends his arm in a gesture for her to come in.

“Swan, to what do I owe this surprise?” he asks, the corner of his mouth turned up.

Actions speak louder than words and at this time, she not entirely sure she has the courage to form them. So she does something sure to surprise him even more and kisses him.

It feels right—his lips pressed against hers, his body pressed against hers. She thinks she made the best decision until he puts his hands on her shoulders and gently pushes her away. Leaving her standing frozen, a little bit hurt and a little bit confused.

She thought he wanted this. He was into it before, certainly seemed to be having enough fun. Maybe his feelings have changed. Maybe he’s decided they’re better off friends and nothing more.

She’s two seconds from fleeing when he scratches the back of his neck and grimaces slightly. He opens his mouth, closed it, then opens it again.

“I know it’s habit but I… I really can’t stand for you to keep doing… that,” he fumbles his words, hardly making eye contact and she’s ready to snap at him. Tell him she’s sorry her kisses disgust him. But he continues “I need these lines to stay clear. It was hard enough for me when you put and end to this before. I don’t… I can’t handle that again.”

“Oh,” she says softly.

“I’m sorry, love. I don’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” He smiles weakly.

“I took some time thinking things over after you texted me and I’ve come to a conclusion. I’m going to make these lines as clear as I possibly can. I want to continue kissing you. I want to continue having sex too. I also want to start going out on dates. Well, maybe just one date, enough to make things clear. And I want to start sleeping here more often and leaving shampoo and underwear here. And we can tell David and whomever you want to tell.”

By the time she finishes, his weak smile has turned into a damn near blinding grin. 

“Is that clear enough for you, Killian?”

This time he’s the one attacking her with a surprise kiss. Or surprise kisses, littering her face from the hairline of her forehead to the dimple of her chin, the apple of one cheek to the other, peppering them along her jaw and down the bridge of her nose. “Crystal,” he murmurs before finally settling his lips against hers in a long, hard kiss, backing her up against the open door and shutting it with the force of their bodies. He pats her hips and then moves his hand down, hooking it above the back of her knee to lift her against him.

“Can we start on the continuing to have sex part now?” he asks, breathing hotly against her neck. She can’t see his wicked grin but she can feel it. “To keep things clear of course.”

“Yes but only for the sake of clarity,” she responds rolling her hips against his.

“For clarity.”

[writings-kalelculver]

Lunar Days

Just like the moon, we go through phases. Instead of our phases lasting twenty-seven days, ours begins the day we take our first breath until our last breath is release from our lungs and back into the atmosphere. We are all unique; we all go through different phases, and that means not everyone will understand what we are going through. We may skip through phase, and revert to some over and over again. Life is meant to be the ultimate learning experience for our next journey.

When we are born we automatically know what our intention is for that moment; it is to grow.

New Moon Phase: During this time, we are becoming aware of our body and aware of our soul or lack of. During my new moon phase something must have gone corrupt.  My family has told me that from a young at that my all time fears were fire and gaining weight. The fear of fire arose when I was five and lived on the Clinton River in Michigan. There was a large marina across the way that caught fire. I remember being forced to watch it with my family. I remember the awful, acrid aroma that was similar to fatty pork being burned on a charcoal grill. I also remember seeing ember explosions light up the night; yachts became nothing more than fiberglass torches that competed with the stars for attention. The once calm river was riddled with chaos that wouldn’t seem to die.

After having that stench linger in the air for a few days I never really ate meat again. Then about a year or so later and restaurant, a block away from my house that was in the shape of a lighthouse caught fire as well. The same stench hovered in the air for days. It was not until years later that I learned; it was the smell of bodies burning. Every time the aroma of meat was in the air, all I could think about was those who had perished that night. Every time I saw someone eat meat all I could think about was those who were torched alive; followed by that acrid aroma once again, and then it hit me there is no humane way to die if a sentient being does not want to.

We relax into our intentions. Our intentions become as simple as breathing.

Crescent Moon Phase: At this point I was no longer eating meat, or much of anything. My mother had abandoned me for another new boyfriend and my dad was locked up in a Wayne County psychiatric hospital for severe schizophrenia. My life was falling apart at such a young age. I felt like no one wanted me; if your own parents abandon you, it makes you feel like you are absolutely worthless. Luckily I still had people who wanted me. My grandparents were the only ones I had left at the age of eight. They treated me extremely well, even paying for me to attend a prestigious private school. Sure I made friends there but they lived so far away. I learned to be alone, and my only friends were my grandpa, my golden retriever Genevieve, and the books I would read.

I take discerning action to support my intention.

First Quarter Moon Phase: which I fade into and out of quickly means to me that we as human beings are emphatic creatures. And I say fade because we as humans exist beyond a scope of 27 days; our emotions are our driving force. Yes we can cause so much harm, so much destruction, but many of us have heavy hearts—at least I know I do anyway. For those who need me I could never abandon them, because I know too well what this feels like and no one should have to feel alone in the depths of depression like I once did. I remember when I was in sixth grade and my friend Ani overheard Reina talking to herself. I told her if she needed to talk next period she could find me in the counselor’s office where I was assigned to be a student peer advisor for the lower and middle school. Sure enough I saw Reina peeked in, this time her face was completely expressionless. She confessed to me she saw her uncle commit suicide by closing the garage door on his head. She showed me a knife, a butterfly knife to be exact. At that point I got up calmly, walked into the office and told the counselor that a student has a knife. After that instance I never saw Reina again, all I know what happened to her that she went into a psychiatric hospital to get the help she so desperately needed. Sometime I wonder what would have happened if I just let that slide. She might as well have went through her plan and then that blood would have been on my hands as well.

We all go through trials before we understand who we will become during our adolescence; our intention and our so-called purpose in life becomes clearer.

Gibbous Moon: The most awkward time of my life. High school is never the exception to this; it is almost as it has become the rule to make lives miserable. The first time I met Collin was Freshman year of high school, and I swear the first words that 5’3” redneck ever said to me was, “shut the fuck up bitch.” Needless to say I tried to avoid him, like I tried to avoid others like the plague. In this area the only things you could do for fun were to drink, do drugs, or have sex, and I was not interested in any of the three so I became an outsider. The more I tried to avoid Collin the more I ran into him; it seemed as if those who tormented me were always around. He was always embarrassed to ask for help in English. He was a known drug dealer for the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan. His racist grandfather is still today Citrus County’s Red Dragon, which means he controls the area. His drug of choice to sell was everything from heroine to marijuana. However, the only drug he touched himself was meth. It is funny that the Klan never found out about his addiction when everyone else did; if they ever found out he would not be alive today. He would come to me in private for some help, and if anyone asked what he was doing he would say I was buying drugs for him.

At this point my life was a complete mess. I was on almost every psychiatric drug under the rainbow, and when you feel, as everyone doesn’t see you as a person anymore you just want to go away. Then I had my first break with a knife and overdosing on my own prescriptions, shortly after I faded out of everyone’s lives and no one seemed to notice. After I came back Collin no longer came to me for any help, I guess no one likes the stigma of suicide. I was all alone again, except those who paid me to write papers for them, I guess these people had no problem being seen with an anorexic suicide addicted girl. The funny thing is if he continued coming to me for help he’d probably have graduated on time and not two years after he was suppose to.

We now are aware of our intentions. We either move on with this intention or we realize that it should not be ours at this time. Either way we release this intention, and our course will continue in the correct manner.

Full Moon Phase: Just because I like to help others does not mean it always works out the way that I have originally intended. In 2013 I worked at a resort in Crystal River, Florida called Plantation Inn. Inside that resort I was a server at the West 82 Bar and Grill, there while working I met an ex-tweaker named Tara. She was quite short and had a very outgoing personality. She was trying really hard to stay sober after rehab to regain custody of her son. I remember her saying that “no matter how bad my addiction to heroine got I never let my son go hungry.” She was a caring person to the whole staff. She would always ask how we were doing and it felt genuine. Then she had nowhere to go, her roommate did not want to sign the lease and she did not have the credit to lease the house on her own. As a result she moved into her boyfriend, Matt’s house. When she first introduced me to him, she told me to call him mommy and that nickname stuck. A few times Tara would call me up and ask for a ride to work, she said she would give me gas money, she never did and I didn’t mind. All I wanted was for her to do what was best for her and her son. Soon she would take advantage of this.

I was end up being the one that gets walked all over in the end; I guess it happens when you care more about others than you do yourself. She one day asked me to take her to her group therapy sessions, which I didn’t mind. However, one day she asked me to take her to a friend’s place real quick, “I’ll be right back sweetie,” she was say in a high pitched voice. She then would return to my car. As I started driving I saw her fidgeting with her purse. “What are you doing?” Then she finally admitted to buying meth and heroine. “You brought drugs into my fucking car?” I remember yelling that so loud and not knowing what to do, so I just dropped her off at her place and I was still pretty much in shock. She would ay that they were not for her, that she was a mule. I did not believe that for one bit. After her one year of sobriety she decided to go back to that life.

During the next few weeks Tara just got worse. I would still go and pick her up to take her to work and she would be stoned. One day she got into an argument with our boss Kelly. She went outside, and when she came back in she was completely unable to function. She was muttering nonsense, scaring the customers on the floor. Kelly then turned to me and said, “What the hell is going on?” I was completely speechless. The dinning had become nothing but a mere circus and Tara was the non-coherent ringleader. “I have no idea,” I said stumbling over my words. Kelly’s presence always made me nervous; she was a dominating and could sweep you under the rug just like a gnat. “She was fine when I went to pick her up this afternoon,” again the words came out of my mouth in a un-composed manner. The god honest truth was that Tara was fine before the shift.

For the rest of the night Tara was extremely sick. She managed to break 36 glasses on the rack as she stumbled throughout the server’s station. The next day when she came to get her things from the office, we found out that she mixed methadone with ecstasy. The end result was the termination of her job and 90 days in rehab. I tried to be a friend to her, I told her she could talk to me about anything and she did. I told her almost everyday that I was proud of her for staying sober. I had no idea how long this façade was going on; hell she could have been lying about being sober the whole time. It goes to show you that some people cannot be helped no matter how much you try.

We feel grateful that our intentions are coming into the form we so desire; we receive these with gratitude.

Disseminating Moon Phase:  In October 2013 I learned to appreciate my life and understood how caring I truly was. At the time I was dating this guy named Matthew, who was nothing really special. At the time I was dating him, I was making extra money on the side in a risqué way…I was a cam girl. Even though I always wore masks to hide my face, my ankle tattoo could clearly been seen. I never hid this from Matthew, but I never really told him either, but one day he found out.

Then one day just became a living nightmare. He invited me over to his place in Inverness, Florida and it seemed like a normal day. We went to the park by the courthouse and walked around before returning home. As I entered his room, I felt a push then something hard hitting the back of my head. I got into the kneeling position and then I felt pressure on my legs then I felt his hand around my throat. I could not breathe. I could not move at all. I did not understand why this was happening. I started to fade in and out of conscious. Somehow I managed to get him off me, I do not remember how I did it or if his intention was not to kill me. Either way the authorities did not do a damn thing. This has become a common pattern in my life—all because he said he was hearing voices. The only good thing that came from this is that for the first time in a long time I wanted to live my life and not just die. I always thought that I would welcome death no matter what—I am glad to say that I was wrong and it took a traumatic event to change that.

Now that I am receiving my intention, I give back from a pace of abundance.

Third Quarter Moon Phase: Like I said before I do not give up on people, if they need me I’ll be there to help them, even if they have wronged me in the past. In January 2014 (six years since I last talked to him) Collin decided that he needed to talk to me. This continued until March of that same year. Work and school made my life so hectic that I completely ignored everyone for their own sake. Then in the middle of last July, I was back in town because my neighbors at my complex made living there a living hell; I was attacked the same pit bull three times. The third incident I protected myself—I stabbed the dog to save myself. The dog lived but I faced threats from the owners, they even keyed my car as a result. I lived alone and my family wasn’t too keen of me staying at my apartment when I didn’t have to work. I decided to travel 100 miles back to Citrus County when I wasn’t working for my own safety.

I was in the middle of Dunnellon, Florida having a not so pleasant conversation with my ex-fiancé Aaron. A majority of his family members were harassing me constantly and I wanted them to stop before I went to the local corrupt authorities. He gave little concern. By this point he lost everything he ever worked for, and could careless that this could financially destroy him and his family even more. After hearing enough of his emphatic remarks I headed for my bright blue sedan, sat in it, put my head on my steering wheel and started to contemplate everywhere I could have possibly gone wrong in my life. Then my phone started to buzz and it was Collin. It had been over a year since I heard from him and I must of forgotten that I did not want anything to do with him. He asked if I wanted to see him and talk and after the disastrous night I was having I was inclined to say yes.

That starry night I agreed to meet him. He gave me his address, and my GPS took me through mazes of dusty, country roads. I saw that several people in this area had hogs, and all that did was remind me of a story my grandfather told me growing up about these two travelers in Alpena, Michigan. These two travelers got lost and had some kind of scuffle with a local. A few weeks late the local authorities found some uneaten human remains in the hog’s slop. I never asked my grandfather for proof growing up if this story had any truth to it, but that story played through my mind over and over again. “No one will ever find my body,” I whispered to myself. I hit many potholes going down that dirt road, I thought that my undercarriage would be torn to pieces by the time I even saw his place. Finally I found his driveway, with grass that stood about two feet tall. As I got closer to his house I could not help but notice that he also had hogs in his front yard, there must have been a dozen. I could not help but wonder, is he going to kill me, should I just go back to my grandparent’s house? It was too late; I made eye contact with him so automatically I was even more committed to this arrangement. And all of the nights I forgot to carry a knife in my pocket.  

We happily sat on his wood-rot front porch for a while. The crickets were singing and the stars are bright, and the shadows of the trees danced in the distance. As he lit his cigarette he so nonchalantly said, “I just got out of jail.” If I was uncomfortable before, now I was about to get in my car and for sure drive back to my grandparent’s house. But I stayed. A part of me must have been curious because I so politely asked why he was ever in jail. “Driving on a suspended,” he muttered with the cigarette now in his mouth.  I stood up and walked to the opposite end of the porch. If there is one thing I cannot stand is the horrid, stale smell of cigarettes. “You need to sit down for this one,” as he patted the chair right next to him. I did as he asked; I am not usually one to not do as a man tells me. “So I was in a 32 car pile up when I was working my way back down from Tennessee. I was the last one in and couldn’t avoid that shit. So I ended up with a ticket and missed my court date on a count that the damn ticket didn’t get forwarded to this address.”

At this point I was more concerned about the safety of my own life. I could care less about anything he had to say. I just kept thinking to myself if I were to die here tonight no one would know, and I would be hog chow in the morning. Still I couldn’t shake the feeling of wondering why I was even there to begin with. Damn. He’s lucky that I had a bad night and needed a way out of it. He just continued to jabber on and not shut up; and men say that women are chatty? I call bull shit right there. Then he actually did it—he said something that caught my attention. He began to confess all the wrongs he did in his life. First he told me how he joined the Ku Klux Klan at 16, which I already knew but I just pretended that this was shocking news. He explained that he is not a racist and that the only color he cares about is green, the only reason that he even joined (besides that his grandfather is the Red Dragon). He told me that he made it through the ranks so quickly, without even knowing. He bragged about the people he fought (he might be 5’3” but I have seen him knock a guy out with one punch back in the high school years). I couldn’t help but blurt out, “you either must be really stupid, or you trust me so much.” He just stared at me for what felt like a century. “Of course I trust you, why wouldn’t I?” I just rolled my eyes in disbelief. “Why does everyone tell me about their skeletons in the closet? Because, hun you ain’t the first to do it and you sure as hell won’t be the last.” I thought saying that in a bitchy, sarcastic tone would be enough that he wouldn’t want to deal with me again. I felt victorious until he asked me if I would like to go inside.

Nothing I could do would work, without actual physical violence. I thought that I would later regret it but I oblige and I’m glad nothing did. After a while the awkwardness went away and it happen to be one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. He just wanted someone to talk to, someone who has an open mind and the willingness to understand all the nasty shit and abuse that he endured. He was not the monster he was forced to be.

I reflect with thanks. With this I rest. With this I restore and allow myself to persevere.

Balsamic Moon Phase: We are all just sitting here trying to figure out our universe and our purpose which will probably change time and time again). The phases I have gone through have shaped me into the person I am today and I wonder when the next time I’ll go through them again and who will be there with me to witness these glorious events. Because until our next big journey in life—whatever you may believe that to be, will be returned to the earth and I know I can’t wait to return to the stars and live among them as chemicals of my former vessel.