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lilyclawthorne · 3 years ago

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Escaping Expulsion Thoughts (once again very stream of conscious-like while i rewatched the episode so there’s a bunch of stuff here)

i fucking knew odalia was gonna be an oracle, i knew and i hate that for her family. i’m not sure if this necklace thing is specifically a form of oracle magic or not but im assuming it is, and either way the second i saw it happen that made my stomach twist. the fact that she just keeps this direct line to her daughter at all times feels so disturbing

so, i get that the joke with glyph lessons here is that eda and lilith are probably acting the exact same way they did when they were younger, but it does also feel a little odd for me. in my post for episode 1 i talked about how it felt like lilith probably missed the structure of the coven, and maybe even having an authority figure, and it does concern me a bit that it could be projected on to luz here.

also, i saw someone mention that they thought lilith could be regressing a bit, which is interesting seeing as she’s been in the coven since basically being a child and now that she’s out, she could be going backwards because that was probably the last time she had a personality of her own instead of one that was carefully crafted to be socially acceptable for others. and to be fair, the few moments in season 1 when we see glimpses into the true lilith, she is pretty childish.

anyways lilith has such pretty handwriting i love it

gus!! witch puberty!! do not worry buddy eda will get your name eventually. probably.

amity went out and murdered those fairies for luz didn’t she

i need to know why the heck bump has no choice in the matter of the expulsion. typically a pta (or pca in this case) wouldn’t have power that much stronger than the principa?? so i wonder if the blights have something over bump, or if its even just something such as donation money they’d withdraw

odalia blight you gaslighting bitch “I’m appalled you’re not in class right now what are you thinking” YOU MADE HER COME HERE

PLEASE i know gus and willow are sad here but the whole “live off the land” thing and “water you one last time, with my tears” are so fucking funny ok

GO LUZ, YOU TELL OFF ODALIA

i feel like alador doesn’t really care what’s going on and just wants to be back home making his abomination inventions, also he seems to have an affinity for different creatures as well which is an interesting detail

i love that willow stated they would get back in on their own right in front of alador and odalia. these people fucked up her friendship and caused her a lot of trouble that she shouldn’t have had to deal with so i love that she’s unafraid to speak like that in front of them

between the first & second episode, and some of the seasons trailer, it seems like Lilith may have an affinity for ice magic? which is interesting seeing as eda was always a fan of her “spicy toss” aka some fire magic. interesting to see the two of them as fire & ice basically

i LOVE how much bump loves luz, willow, and gus. it’s kinda really sweet, but again it feels so concerning that he had no choice in the matter. makes me think he’s more likely to eventually rebel against the standards that have been in place for so long at some point. (also abominations coven for bump!! interesting!! i appreciate seeing the coven marks included on the adults so far)

what is it with these kids and being dragged off by their hoods in this episode

love that the blights address includes “right arm”, also i took a quick look up of the word “bruegal” which is boulevard they live on, and it’s probably just a coincidence but the first google result was actually for a european think tank that specializes in economics

yknow i actually have wondered about layering glyphs on top of each other and making a super glyph the way eda did, so good to know that would NOT work out

luz you’re really gonna give the blights their own flowers??????

it goes by so fast but please take a moment to take in and appreciate the design of that blight entry room/living room-esque area and it’s combination of abomination and oracle decor. also the blight family portrait.

i could talk about alador and odalia and their relationship dynamic here, when luz is meeting with them, but i think it’s best to save for the end, but i will say i don’t think it’s just odalia controlling everything (though she does control a lot) and alador just suffering and being silent.

the more i stare at odalia’s hair the more i feel like she has an odd receding hairline

love that the abomination kept the cat shape luz gave it and that amity knew immediately from that

WILLOW’S DADS!!! I LOVE THEM! I love how much they want their daughter to have a great education even if they have to be the ones to do it! (even if it could come across as a little intense) Although, the fact that they’re prepared to teach plant magic to her makes me question why they put her in abominations once again. (wish we could’ve gotten a glimpse of their coven marks!)

odalia is definitely the one who handles more of the parenting and alador is more distant. at least that’s what i get based on the twins specifying to amity not to tell their mom specifically

absolutely insane that odalia is just letting the abomiton destroy the whole place to kill a child

“stay away from my luz!” oh my god,ohmy GOD

i like how lilith can’t tell if these are normal noises or distress ones. really sums up life in the owl house. also lilith? kicking doors in?? this combined with “I AM A WITCH, UNHINGED” tells me she’ll be as chaotic as the rest of the owl house in no time and i am here for it.

the music when amity jumps in to protect luz is absolutely killing it here i need a soundtrack now

YES AMITY DESTROY THE NECKLACE (and oh god please don’t let odalia give you something even harder to remove or destroy)

Luz is blushing!! The feelings are starting to be returned!!!

“Luz, Willow, and Gus are my friends!” love it. love the open declaration. love that she’s telling her mother off. love that i have something to check off my bingo board already.

okay, i know a lot of people have already suggested that alador is smiling here because he can tell luz and amity like each other, but i’m pretty sure it’s only because he’s noticing how much amity’s magic has grown and improved

small detail but i love the smoke from the units order sign filling the background while odalia is fuming herself

oh? alador has had the ability to tell odalia off and successfully calm her down this whole time? and chose not to use it till now? yeah he sucks too. he very clearly has a plan for amity as much as odalia does as well, but he’s much better at seeing the long-term goal

“the glyph combo, copyright me, lilith” im screaming, lilith you DORK

ok i really wish eda or lilith asked where luz had been. i’d kill for these sisters to go off about how much they hated the alador and odalia in school, as well as threaten to hurt them for hurting luz.

the statue lilith made and her reaction to the gold star she received re-emphasizes my concern about her need for approval and for an authority figure. (ok but her noise at the gold star WAS very cute tho)

alright lets get down to business on the blight parents. so far i definitely do not view their relationship as being one-sided with odalia in control. honestly, i think they do have a sense of mutual respect for the other. to me it seems like all alador really wants to do is focus on his work and nothing else, and odalia seems not only more than happy to let him do so, but willing to take care of everything else the company needs, and he seems fine with that and going along with whatever because he only has to do his part. and clearly his abomination tech combined with her showmanship/advertising (and honestly probably some oracle magic) has clearly made them successful.

so what im saying is that i think their power in their relationship is actually pretty balanced, if it looks otherwise that’s just because that’s how they best function together, with odalia being more forward and alador being more distant, and therefore they’re very much both to blame for shitty parenting.

also I know some people have joked about the blight family name coming from odalia (which is also a dumb joke like why is it funny if the family name comes from the woman and not the man) but anyways I definitely do think blight is aladors family name and odalia married in simply because he takes the whole blights keep up their end of the deal thing much more seriously than odalia. probably something that’s been taught to him since he was a kid yknow, whereas she was super ready to ignore it when it inconvenienced her.

as for the very final scene with them and the golden guard, i had an interpretation of it that i saw, but it seems that everyone else ive see react to it so far saw something different than me so maybe i’m just plain wrong. but like, i have this feeling that maybe the blight parents, while they do want power, might not be as aligned with the emperor and his coven as we may think?? not saying they’re good people, just that there could be more going on here. but idk, i’ve seen no one else interpret it that way yet so i won’t go off about it unless either someone wants to know more of what i thought or if i ever actually make myself get around to making a separate post about it.

#the owl house #owl house #toh #escaping expulsion

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reapyboy · 4 years ago

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just some thoughts about the recent stuff and the vs community that i need to put somewhere before I explode haha (TLDR at the end)

(If you decide to read this, I would assume that ur caught up to everything that’s happened with this whole thing that happened in the first few days of April with VS_Experiences on Twitter (which no longer exists i think). If not, do your own research pls. I do apologize for not providing any screenshots, videos, or twitter threads, but the proof definitely out there, and you’ll have to take my word)

Speaking abt the vinesauce community in light of current events, the whole fiasco has definitely damaged my view of the community and some people’s responses reek of parasocial relationship. We truly have no idea if the accusations were true or false, but please stop acting like everything has been debunked. Whenever self projection and parasocial relationships were brought up on stream, the chat would always laugh at them and think they’re dumb (like with Dream), but it seems that thay suffer from one too.

He’s said several times to not put him on a pedestal and what were people doing? Still putting him on a pedestal when the accusations first came out. So many people saying stuff like “ive watched Vinny for years and he always puts a smile on my face! he would never do this he’s just a funny italian speen man!!!” or “he doesn’t seem like the kind of dude who would do that he’s kinda awkward and hates relationships!!” Look. Saying this kind of stuff is what prevents people from speaking out against someone with a big fanbase.

I have made several arts on the booru for Vinny and he is literally my favorite streamer. I tuned in for as many streams as I could in the past several years. As much as he has made me laugh throughout the years, I don’t know him. 99.9% of viewers do not know this man off stream, and never will, no matter how long you’ve been watching his streams. Most of us will never be one of his closest friends who knows the inner mechanisms of his mind. As much as he may talk about his interests and life experiences on stream, and as much as you can observe his mannerisms and personality, there is no way you could know absolutely everything about Vinny off stream. He wants to live privately, after all. But here’s the thing, even if one of us were friends with the guy, friends are allowed to keep secrets. Some friends do not share every single detail of their lives and interactions. My best friend that I’ve had since Kindergarten doesn’t know that I crashed my first car within a month of getting my license!

When it comes to the evidence, so many people were saying “that’s not the same icon! he would never type like this!!1!1” in the emails when it was proven that Yahoo emails just switch email icons to letters by default when receiving email from other online mail services. Plus, we also don’t know how he speaks if he flirts with women? He could totally be awkward like that.

As for psyops and targeted attacks by GPM or 4Chan, I don’t buy that they pre planned this “””attack”””. These theories of a 4Chan psyop were based off of like three? out of context screenshots that were most likely jokes. I also don’t believe it was an attack by GeePM based on the sole fact that he liked and retweeted the allegations when they were first posted, and on the fact that he got kicked outta the Vinesauce team. My thoughts are that the accusers came to him privately and asked him to boost the post because he was an ex-member, letting those in both his and the VS community know. But what do I know?

I, like a few others, thought that there could been some merit to some other info floating around, including several clips of someone’s screen that seemed to have legit email exchanges. It was immediately dismissed and invalidated by fans, accusing them of faking anything they posted. There was only so much proof that they could’ve shown, and I choose to believe the people that spoke out.

I personally think that this wasn’t a SUPER serious set of allegations, like if it’s true, he hasn’t done anything illegal to our knowledge, at most he was just a horny motherfucker. But I think more people should’ve stayed neutral on them until a statement was given, because the amount of denying and coping that i’ve seen is gross. Vinny is an adult and he can fuck if he wants. I do think that bothering your fans for sex is weird as fuck (but that’s just me), but they did consent to meet up with him and stuff. This post isn’t my qualms about Vinny’s supposed actions, it’s about the community’s response to said accusations. Some of you guys didn’t take them seriously at all, and I think it says a lot.

TL;DR: Based on my research and the extra evidence that I’ve seen, I believe the allegations, and I don’t think it was a planned “cancellation”. If they are true, it’s not horrid, but still weird (in my opinion) to pm fans for sexual reasons. Whether the allegations are true or completely false, the community’s reactions were disgusting and some Vinesauce fans don’t realize that they suffer a bad parasocial relationship w/ Vinny.

#should i tag this as vinesauce im scared :)#def not going on twitter where i have one follower but even saying this may be controversial even though it’s something everyone shold think #eh fuck it i almost never go on here #vinesauce #parasocial weirdos suck!!!#idk how well I worded this i am bad at explaining myself #pls don't respond if you only read the TLDR!!!

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ateezgf · 3 years ago

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im sorry this is really rubbing me the wrong way. why are you so pressed a rando on the internet doesnt have the same interests as you? how can you expect strangers to 'be quiet' and self censor their blogs and not express opinions unless it validates your hobbies? the consumerism thing is a completely valid critique of stuff going on in the industry and market, it's not targeting fans personally. if you dont like an opinion you dont have to engage, you definitely dont have to invent a clinical diagnosis implying how someone u dont know must feel superior to everyone because... they wrote some blog posts on their own blog directed at no one that you disagreed with. that looks a lot like projection.

im sending this because i wanna point out this is exactly the sort of behavior that drives people (especially well adjusted adults who can tolerate disagreement) out of fandom spaces because no one can express even the most mildly controversial opinion without others acting like they were personally attacked or straight up accusing the opinionhaver of personality disorders. ive seen it happen enough times. in the end you'll have contributed to an environment that is so hostile to normal differences in opinion that all the people capable of critical thought will be driven out and you'll be left with a miserable little mutually policing hivemind clique that laps up anything the artists companies put out regardless of whether its good art or money making garbage.

How did you get all that from the one sentence I posted

Anyway, I'm not upset that someone doesn't want to buy kpop merch. That definitely isn't a requirement ever. It's the fact that they're trying to come off as better than the average fan who does partake in buying merchandise. I could easily flip it around and be like "how can you not buy merch" and go on about all the positives in collecting something too; but I'm able to respect the stance other people have WITHOUT talking down on them. EDIT: People who think they’re better for buying more/stream more/etc. are equally as bad and annoying as someone who speaks on the opposite spectrum and I’ve spoken against those people before too. You’re barking at people who don’t do either.

Also I don't know where you pulled me inventing a clinical diagnosis from..? If you're talking about superiority complexes, that is indeed real. If not, then you can take my Psychology degree away and put me back in school. I don't know what you think I'm projecting because I also never tried to write myself off as better than someone who chooses not to partake in the things I do. Again, I never accused anyone of having a personality disorder? Stop pulling stuff out of thin air.

To call the people annoyed by someone constantly barking about how they're different for not doing the things they do and to insinuate that it's a pointless thing when the very person you're defending has been unnecessarily rude and hostile on multiple accounts to multiple people is contributing more to that type of environment than a couple of people saying they're tired of seeing someone's repeated self-praise for being different than the rest. The very person you're defending going out of their way to comment on content creators things and call it ugly directly to them is the type of behavior that drives people out of fandom spaces and away from hobbies they enjoy.

I saw they brought up lightsticks and that's part of korean concert culture. It's not some pointless cash grab as you for some reason think it is? Why would I spend money on an album if I don't like it too like...? That's exactly the thing a bunch of people were getting annoyed with. I respect the decision to not spend your money on kpop merchandise; but for you to practically call me a brainwashed individual just because I like buying albums with music I like is so unnecessary? Like.. Are you aware that I'm able to spend my money how I want to? Does that upset you? It seems like it does since you sent me this.

You trying to say that I'm incapable of critical thinking while also sending me an anon that is so far off from what I have said is just so..?? Like I had said in my original post, I never said no one can express their opinions; but it's also easier to just be like "I don't get it, but as long as you're having fun!" and move on without going on and on about how your stance is better.

#updated because i've been told that someone's checking my blog <3 #'if you dont like an opinion you dont have to engage' yet u engaged with my opinion #i never said not liking consumerism isn't a valid critique. im saying that you can simply not be an asshole about it #answered

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 4 years ago

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FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #5: In which Donna’s wish is Cameron’s command

[CN: food, eating mentions, and descriptions of food displays]

After Donna asked her if she might consider putting up Valentine’s Day decorations for February of 2021, Cameron went directly into research mode. She didn’t plan to admit it to Donna, but Cameron felt like a holiday decor project was exactly what she needed. From the comfort of the living room couch, Cameron began her hunt for useful information on her laptop.

She became frustrated much more quickly than she thought she would. Eyebrows scrunching behind the frames of her reading glasses, Cameron griped, “Okay so the first problem here, is that the origin of Valentine’s Day isn’t anywhere near as compelling as the origin of Halloween, or ghost stories. I mean, a Christian martyr? Really?” Wrinkling her nose skeptically, she scrolled further down the webpage she was on, and said, “Not only am I not moved by his story or his proselytizing, but none of this has anything to do with love or couples or even fertility or family!” Clicking back to the search engine page, she said, “The second problem is that doing research used to be satisfying, but now it sucks. And it’s all because of the internet. We ruined everything with the internet and search, Donna.”

Donna, sitting several feet away on their recliner, looked up from her crossword puzzle. “So, no decorations then?”

Cameron sighed. “I didn’t say that. I just think that I’m gonna have to take a different approach. The literal origins of the holiday are not the angle for this particular project.” Quietly, she switched over to researching the origins of the commercial version of the holiday. “Maybe,” she said to herself, “a more aesthetic-based approach?” She looked up at Donna, and said, “Do you mind if I turn on the tv and stream something? I was thinking about putting on the more recent Picnic at Hanging Rock.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! That literally starts on Valentine’s Day!” Donna enthused. “We should sit down and rewatch it sometime in the next couple weeks!” Then, calming herself down, she added, “But sure, go ahead. Whatever your research requires,” Donna smiled at her.

Cameron picked up the remote, turned on the television, searched for the show, found it, and started the first episode. She went back to looking at her computer, and searched for basic decor ideas. After a few minutes, she said, “The third problem is that traditional Valentine’s decorations are just, like, red. Like really, extremely red.”

“What’s wrong with red?” Donna pouted.

“Nothing, but I just don’t feel like it really goes with the whole ‘I throw stones and I live in glass houses because I’m a modern woman who has it all!’ thing you have going on in here?”

“Hey, it’s your house, too!” Donna chuckled. “You have a point, though.”

Defiantly, Cameron said, “That’s okay. I will figure something out. My wife asked me to decorate for Valentine’s Day, and I don’t plan to let her down.”

Cameron spent the next morning sorting through their collection of fall and winter holiday decorations, and pulled out items to be repurposed, and wound up looking through their other supplies for inspiration. In the afternoon, she was back on the computer, searching this time for items to buy. Sitting at the kitchen island, Cameron sighed heavily. “I wish…” she started. She sighed again, and said, “I really wish that we could just go to a craft store and wander through it for hours.”

Donna, who has sitting across from her, and scrolling through one of her social media feeds, looked up, and snorted, “What, so you could complain about how everything looks ugly and cheap under the fluorescent lights, only to then buy a ton of it, take it home, and then somehow make it look beautiful and amazing?”

“Yes,” Cameron replied. “Exactly.” It took over an hour, and much agonizing, but eventually, she made her selections, entered her billing information, and closed her browser. She managed to stay offline for the rest of the day.

Early the next morning, Cameron asked Donna, “A great big outdoor garden store, that should be like…relatively safe to go to, right? As long as we wear our masks and gloves? And we go early?” Donna didn’t have to be asked twice. They got dressed, and arrived at their favorite garden store a few minutes after it opened. Cameron hurriedly bought a large quantity of potted violets and a bunch of metal flower pots before hustling Donna back to the safety of their car.

Over the next few days Cameron began to work on crafting, baking, and candymaking, as deliveries of her ordered craft supplies started to trickle in. (She compulsively wiped every new item down with disinfectant out of an abundance of anxiety and caution.) By the next weekend, she had everything she thought she needed. On the first Saturday of the month, a week before Valentine’s Day, she gathered everything that she’d amassed so far in the dining room.

She set the last of several boxes down on the table, and Donna, who was drinking a second cup of coffee, looked up just in time to see Cameron tying her bandana around her head like a headband. The bandana, which had accompanied Cameron all the way from Tokyo, was white, and it had the red circle of the Japanese flag, or the Hinomaru, on it. On both sides of the red circle there was lettering, Japanese kanji. The first time Donna saw Cameron put the bandana on, just before they deep cleaned Donna’s house together for the first time, she had asked Cameron what the kanji said. Gravely, through gritted teeth, Cameron had replied, “Kamikaze.” Donna had laughed, and then realized that she was being serious.

Putting down her mug, Donna exclaimed, “Daniel-san!”

Cameron took a deep breath, and said, “I’m trying to center myself and focus, Donna. Please.”

“I’m flattered by all the work you’ve already put into honoring my request,” Donna said. “But I think I’m gonna go upstairs so you can decorate in peace. I’d like to be surprised when I see the final result!” She stood up, taking her mug and phone with her, and headed toward the den, stopping to kiss Cameron on the cheek on her way.

When Donna returned to the kitchen several hours later to make lunch, the dining room table was covered in silk flowers, jars, doilies, and print outs and paper lace and all sorts of colorful paraphernalia. “How’s it going?” she called out.

“Slowly,” Cameron answered, “but it’s going. And it’s not like I’ve got anywhere to be, so!”

She took a quick break to eat a sandwich with Donna, and then went back to the dining room, and Donna went up to the bedroom, where she checked in with Joanie and Haley and their families, sent text messages to Tonya, Risa, and Katie Herman, and then started reading about current tech and social media platform news. She was clicking out of an article on Section 230 reform when Cameron knocked on the door frame.

Looking up from their bed, Donna asked, “Is it done? Can I see?” She jumped up from the bed and ran toward the door.

“I need you to adjust your expectations,” Cameron said, walking her down their hallway. Cameron stopped by the door to the den and switched on the light. Donna peered in, not seeing any difference at first, and then she noticed the faux ivy that Cameron had carefully attached to their bookcases. She stepped into the room, and then noticed the doilies on every surface, and the mason jars of high-quality pink and white silk peonies, which were surrounded by cards from a Victorian-themed tarot deck, which Cameron had stuck down to the doilies under them, to make them look as if they’d casually been left on the table. There were two sets of gloves by one jar, an aged-looking leather diary by another one, and a small framed print of a hand-drawn portrait of two Gibson girls by another.

“It’s subtle, or subtle-ish,” Donna smiled back at Cameron, “but it’s really nice. It’s very Picnic at Hanging Rock, but with maybe a better adjusted headmistress, right? I love it.”

They went down the hall and down the four steps to the ‘first’ floor, and then into the kitchen, where Donna’s eye was drawn to the centerpiece Cameron had arranged on the island. She’d repotted the violets into three of the metal pots, and had made and cut out a silhouette of two young women in full-length Victorian dresses, hand in hand, attached them to skewers, and stuck them into the flower pots. It looked almost as if the girls were walking through a field of purple-blue flowers.

Donna went to smell the flowers, only to be distracted by the display on the dining room table. Eyes wide, she instead walked toward the table. She turned to look back at Cameron and said, “Did you make all of this?”

“No, some if it I definitely ordered off the internet,” Cameron admitted. She’d set up an elegant silver multi-tiered pastry stand and loaded it with paper cups full of homemade white and milk chocolate truffles and squares of peppermint bark that had red and pink swirled into them, squares of milk, dark, and peanut butter fudge, bite sized anatomical hearts molded from red-tinged milk chocolate, and red cinnamon candies, cherry sours, and raspberry flavored hard candies. Next to the pastry stand was Donna’s trusty cake server, which was piled with red velvet crinkle cookies. Both were set up on top of large doilies, underneath their accompanying glass covers, and both were surrounded with red silk flower petals and an eye-catching design of heart and diamond and playing cards, all of which Cameron had somehow sewn down so that it would lay flat, but somehow still look slightly rumpled.

“Remember a few years ago when we did Penny Dreadful Halloween for the trick-or-treaters? During our Vanessa Ives phase? A lot of that stuff came in handy for this,” Cameron helpfully explained.

“Did I miss anything?” Donna looked around. She turned toward the living room, couch, and then noticed a large heart-shaped box placed in the center of the coffee table, with Donna’s pair of good candlesticks and brand new red candles set up on both sides of it, yet another doily underneath it all The box was anchored by a large, white, ceramic anatomical heart, and surrounded by shells, smaller porcelain rabbits and birds, and dried flower petals.

“It’s not much, but, it was fun to try?” Cameron shrugged.

“Oh, shush!” Donna threw her arms around Cameron’s neck, kissed her, and said, “It’s beautiful, and I love it. Thank you for trying to make things feel festive even though almost everything in the world totally sucks.” She kissed her again, and said, “Wanna go celebrate by making out?”

“Yes,” Cameron said, “but, I haven’t eaten in hours, can we have dinner first?”

“Yes, absolutely! Whatever my doting wife wants!” Donna agreed.

#the headband bit is totally jacked from an ep of sailor moon in which makoto ties on a kamikaze headband before cleaning #and the heart-shaped box is inspired by THE original heart-shaped box because the dream of the 90s is ALIVE yalce!#happy february bbys!#femslash february #femslash february 2021 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

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Empires on the Horizon IV

Jason is a CEO: Part IV

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

new beginnings

look fragile

like glass

but when grabbed

sparkle

like diamonds

-badpoetry

“Good morning Mr Grace,” Grover Underwood smiled from his usual spot behind the coffee machine.

“Morning, how are you?”

“Much happier for seeing you less like someone kicked your puppy,” He gave Jason a knowing look.

“How?”

“There are some things the brain cannot hide, matters of the heart are often one of them.”

He didn’t really have any reply to that, so he gave the man an awkward smile and shrugged.

“Your usual then?”

“Yes please, and an iced coffee for Hazel.”

“Ah where is the darling this morning?”

“She’s coming into the office later, something about needing to go home first? She must have stayed at a friend’s place.”

Grover raised a dark brow, “Mhmm and where is your driver this morning? I noticed you drove yourself in today.”

“Uh I think Frank took the day off,” He frowned trying to piece the conversation he’d had with his friend in his sleep-deprived brain.

“Oh interesting,” Grover’s chocolate brown eyes twinkled in amusement, but before Jason could question him a warm cup was being shoved into his hand and he was being ushered away to wait for the iced coffee.

Collapsing into a chair, he pushed his glasses up his nose and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. Winter was beautiful but gods it was cold. He glanced around the café taking in the familiar forest green walls and dark wood floors. There was no sun streaming through the windows today so the gold accents on the tables were dulled and dark, like hidden bronze. He traced his fingers around the edge of his cup, losing himself in the motion, in the feeling of heat on his cold fingers, in the small gusts of wind against his cheeks as the door opened and closed, in the noise of a bustling store, in the–

“Hello Jason,”

“Luke,” He took a deep breath, “Fuck off.”

“Aw don’t be like that,” He sniggered.

“Please Luke, I don’t have the energy for this right now,” Exhaustion was a thousand-ton weight on his bones.

“That’s your problem Jason you never wanted to take things head on. It was always let’s wait for this, let’s get their opinion first, let’s just give it a couple weeks. You could have had the world begging at your fingertips if you just went for what you wanted.”

“Are you done?”

Luke’s responding laugh was malicious, “You are so-“

“Leave.” His voice was stone.

His ex-boyfriend scoffed, “Pathetic.”

Jason watched as the face he had been so in love with sneered at him, the scar running down a pale cheek twisting into malice. His soul ached for what could have been, it burned for what now was. It always surprised him how drained he felt after every interaction with Luke- like crashing down from a potent high. Being with Luke was a high, was euphoria and hope and sin. What the fuck went wrong?

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Talk to me,”

“Why do you insist on answering the phone like you’re some sort of mafia boss?” His sister grumbled.

“Hello to you too Thalia,”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve set you up on a date tonight. Six-thirty at Sun and Songs.”

He groaned, “No. I am not in the mood.”

“Jason Grace,” She started; he could feel a rant coming on, “You cannot stop living your life because you have a wanker of an ex-boyfriend. You have been in a slump since Luke and it is affecting you in ways you’re too scared to admit.”

“It is not affecting me,” He was tired of having this fight, “I literally dated Piper for like three months.”

“Mhm and were you happy? Did you put all you could into the relationship?” She didn’t wait for his response, “No, you may have been a little happier, but you weren’t you. So you will go on this date tonight and in five years when we’re planning your wedding you better be thanking me in your speech.”

“Gods Thals,” He snorted, “We haven’t even gone on the date yet and you’re already planning a wedding?”

“Wait does that mean you agree to it?” She squealed through the phone.

“Yes loser,” He held in a laugh, “I’ll go on the date. But if it doesn’t work out you drop all of this. No more setting me up, no more interfering.”

“Yes sir. Now, how work’s going?”

“Besides the fact that Project Hestia is on hold because of this stupid contract everything is good.”

“Isn’t your fancy lawyer lady sorting it out?” She muttered.

“Reyna is a great lawyer and you know it.”

“Yea but she’s also my ex-girlfriend so I get to be a little resentful.”

He snorted at that, “Of course, and how are you?”

“I’m good. The Conservatory is still standing so I can’t be doing too many things wrong.”

“Didn’t you guys get cheetah cubs this weekend?”

“Oh Jase!” His sister cried, “They are just the absolute cutest things. Did you know cheetahs are so shy that some conservationists and wild-life biologists recommend giving them emotional support puppies?”

“So what you guys got puppies and cubs?”

“We haven’t got the puppies yet; they’re only arriving this week.”

“Well send me pictures when they’re together, maybe I’ll have them framed and hung around the office as a morale booster.”

She laughed, the sound crackly through the speaker, “Will do little bro. Listen I have to go but call me tomorrow to tell me about the date.”

“Wait!” He yelled, ignoring the weird looks from the café patrons as he walked out, “What’s her name?”

“Zoe.”

***

Jason was nervous. That was the only explanation for his shaky hands and the zoo of creatures in his stomach. He had gotten to Suns and Songs fifteen minutes early with a lavender and daisy bouquet in hand. The restaurant his sister had reserved was nothing short of incredible. Dark maroon draped over each table, and opulent candelabras sat in the center, lit only if the table was occupied. Glass and crystal chandeliers swung slowly from the high wooden beams, catching on the light and making a kaleidoscope of the room. Even the way the air smelt was decadent here. Like wood smoke and perfume, some hint of chocolate, maybe. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wanted to bottle the scent and bathe himself in it. Trying not to be suspicious he took another deep breath in; it calmed his nerves if nothing else.

“Mr Grace?” someone put a soft hand on his shoulder, “Your guest,”

He thanked the waitress, getting up to greet his date and pull out her chair. He tried to muffle his gasp when he finally turned to her. She was stunning. Midnight skin contrasting elegantly with the pastel yellow dress she wore. Braids intertwined with glittering strands; it cast a pale silver halo around her head. Small hoop earrings glinted as she moved, and the bracelets at her wrist clinked gently when they shook hands.

“Hi, Jason Grace,” He smiled.

“Zoe Nightshade.” She flashed beautiful white teeth.

He handed her the flowers, “You look unbelievable.” He truly was in awe of her.

“Thank you,” Her smile was soft, but her voice was crisp and direct, “And these are gorgeous.”

“Would you like to order drinks?”

They scanned the menu quickly; Zoe ordered a cocktail he hadn’t heard of and he ordered the first thing he saw that didn’t have tequila in it.

“So,” He asked, and then cringed at himself internally. Starting any conversation with so was bound to make it awkward.

He cleared his throat, “How do you know Thalia?”

“We work together at the Conservatory. I moved here a couple months ago because I got transferred from the wildlife center in Germany.”

Jason didn’t know what but something about her voice made his insides melt. She said everything so undiplomatically– like if it wasn’t a fact it wasn’t worth uttering.

“Oh that’s cool. What do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian. You?”

“Well I was a structural engineer but somehow over the years I got roped into being a town and regional planner.”

She frowned, tilting her head assessingly, “You did not finish your engineering degree?”

“Oh no I finished and got my masters in structural but then I started my company and I realised I needed other qualifications to run it the way I wanted to so I had to go back and get a degree in urban and regional planning. By the end I felt like I had been studying since the dawn of time.”

She laughed at that, and a look of surprise crossed her face, as if it was as unexpected to her as it was to him. “I know how you feel. I love animals and I’m passionate about my work but when I was done studying, I vowed never to go back. Studying for seven years after school and then trying to do it all over again feels like a one-way ticket to the end of the road.”

He mirrored her smile, “How did you get into veterinary sciences anyway?”

“My father was always busy, and my sisters were… interested in anything that could make them more beautiful, or richer. So I was pretty alone for most of my childhood. At some stage I convinced my father to get me a dog, Ladon. We were inseparable. But he got hurt when this man,“ She said it with such disgust he almost flinched. “This man hurt him. Kicked Little Ladon out the way when he was just trying to say hello. We had to take him to the vet, and I remember them being so sweet and kind to my dog and I knew I wanted to be exactly like that when I grew up.”

“Any chance you know where this man is so we can kick his ass?”

She laughed, raspy and bursting, “Don’t worry little eleven-year-old me kicked Mr Alcides as hard as I could in the shins.”

“Good,” he nodded with conviction, “He deserved more but you found your passion so there is some balance.”

She hid her grin behind a sip from her drink.

“Sir, ma’am,” Their waitress stepped to their table, “Would you like to order?”

Hours later, cheeks flushed from the liquor, laughing over Thalia’s antics and their shared need for structure, they finally decided to call the dinner to an end.

“The focaccia was to die for,” Zoe groaned, patting her stomach.

“Honestly, I may have to marry the pasta.” He sighed contentedly.

She giggled, and he knew it was a rare thing for her because her face caught that surprised look again.

“Want to grab dessert?”

“Oh gods no,” She shook her head in alarm, and then frowned as the realisation of what that meant washed through her.

“I had a really great time tonight,” He started softly.

“Do you want to walk to the park? We can stop and have gelato?” Her dark eyes were full of nervous hope.

He blinked at her, a little shocked she wanted to continue the date, “I thought you didn’t want dessert?” He teased.

“Maybe the walk will burn off some of these calories and i’ll have space for a little ice-cream.” She scunched her nose.

He knew the gelato was just an excuse, so with a grin that lit up his whole face he grabbed her hand and nodded, “Let’s do it Miss Nightshade.”

Her face glowed with relief and enthusiasm as they tucked their chairs in and exited the restaurant.

“Tell me about your family. How come you weren’t interested in the rich side of life like your sisters?”

“I guess being the youngest kind of made it all seem pointless. I had seen what happened when their vanity became malicious and I didn’t ever want to turn into something I couldn’t recognise. I went to stay with my Aunt Diana through high school. She owned a bird sanctuary. That’s where I interned in my college years.”

“Wow,” He looked down to her, awe evident in his face, “And it didn’t bother you to be so far away from your father and sisters?”

“Honestly, I��m not even sure they noticed when I left.” She shrugged, “It was a long time ago. I really only see them for family functions now.”

“And your aunt?”

“She still has the bird sanctuary, but she mostly works in the background now. My cousins, Bianca and Phoebe, run it full time.”

“Do you miss it? Were you guys close?”

“Much closer than my sisters and I. I do miss them, but I definitely can’t say I miss the sanctuary. Some of those birds were evil.”

Just then a loud squawk came from above them. She scowled at the sky, “I’m talking about you Auretta.”

He tried to hold in a laugh but Zoe stuck out her tongue childishly and they both bent over in laughter.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hurl insults while we’re out in the open.” He managed to gasp.

“Good thing the gelato shop is right there.” She grinned, grabbing his hand and sprinting towards the small, illuminated store at the end of the cobbled street. Her dress shimmered, moved like rays of light. She looked like a star.

“Come on,” She yelled, tugging at his hand harder.

‘Alright, alright,” He snapped out of his admiration and let her lead him into the shop.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

“Want to share?”

“Sure, you choose,” He waved a hand towards the abundance of flavours behind the glass.

“Please can we have one scoop of chocolate, one scoop of vanilla and,” Her brow furrowed as she scanned the tags, “And one scoop of cookie crumble.”

“Why did I think you were a sorbet girl?”

“Sorbet in the summer, anything else for the rest of the year.” She said matter of factly.

He nodded solemnly, “Yes makes sense.”

She swatted his arm, grabbing the cone from the lady with a thank you, “Gods I feel like a teenager again,”

“I know what you mean,” Her excitement was infectious.

“I have to ask,” She swallowed a chunk of cookie crumble, “What on earth were you thinking when you decided to eat a stapler?”

Jason groaned, “Why did Thalia tell you that? She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone and if asked I would say I fell off my bike or something.”

Zoe giggled, “Come on, spill.”

“Okay, first of all I was two,” He sighed, embarrassment heating his cheeks, “And it was shiny, and it made a cool clicking noise, and I wanted to know what it tasted like.”

“I can just picture a little Jason crawling onto the kitchen counter and trying to bite down on a stapler.” She teased.

“Yes well now I have this scar,” He pointed to his upper lip, rolling his eyes.

“Battle scars. Very worthy.”

He shoved at her shoulder lightly and they dissolved into laughter once more.

It was almost midnight by the time he had dropped her off at home and stepped into his apartment. He looked at his phone to see a couple work messages, and something from Hazel– things he could reply to in the morning he decided, tugging off his tie and discarding his clothes as he walked to his room. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, his phone still glaringly bright and open on the chat with his sister.

You were right. We’re going on a second date.

-----------------------------------------------------

Grover is like some other worldy deity that spews life lessons every time they meet and i am so here for it! Anyway what y’all saying??? How are we feeling?

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts

@leydiangelo

@queen-of-demons-and-hell

@msdrpreist

@sparkythunderstorm

@nishlicious-01

@lucyisblue

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kyidyl · 4 years ago

Text

Story time! Like an actual true story.

Ok, so my dad has this old car. It’s just like a random family car from 1953. It’s black, it’s rusty, but it’s honestly in better condition than you’d think. Something you need to know about my dad: he came out of the womb wanting to restore a classic car. And if you happen to know me IRL I need you to understand that this makes him so happy that when we finally started it for the first time the other day he was LITERALLY sitting in the seat grinning and bouncing. My grumpy af 6’4 nearly 66 year old father - a bald man with a white Santa beard - was BOUNCING.

Recently he’s started restoring it with the help of a friend of his and I, despite knowing nothing about car and honestly not really being much of a car person I general aside from driving them, have been helping. Yes, of my own volition. It’s nice working on it with him and I like learning new things. His friend is super knowledgeable, and my dad knows some stuff too. Plus my dad and I work well together - we both have a habit of putting things down and spacing on it so we don’t get mad about it and I seem to have a calming effect on him. I like doing projects with him.

So tonight he comes into my room while I’m playing Valhalla and he hands me a stained sweatshirt (it’s cold in the garage and I’d gotten my nice ones pretty dirty while laying under the car the other day, which - btw - exasterbated an Old Person Injury (TM) I didn’t know I had and I could barely walk on Saturday and Sunday. Feeling a lot better now.) and is like “do you wanna come help me flush the fuel line?” And I’m like sure, yeah. This wasn’t a random thing - we took the gas tank off on Saturday and this was the next step. His friend had previously brought over an air compressor and my dad wanted to use it because, well, new toy.

So because my back was still hurting he got under the car back at the pipe that goes into the gas tank and I had the air compressor at the end that goes into the the engine. The idea is that you push compressed air into the tube and it pushes junk out. So we’re trying to do this and NOTHING is coming out. Not goo, not gas, not air. And we’re like “huh wonder why” and then my ass gets the bright idea to try it the other way - push the air through from the gas tank side. And he’s like “yeah let’s try it, because that’s the way the fuel is supposed to go”.

Now fam, I need you all to understand here that I’m a smart person. But in some ways I am *incredibly stupid*. In my defense, we legit though there might be nothing in the line. The tank had been empty and the system had been sitting open for a couple days.

Spoiler: the line was NOT empty.

So I’m up in the engine and my dad is under the car because again, I was still kinda hurting. So I’m bent over the engine holding a plastic bottle over the end of the tube (bout a half centimeter wide inside a normal water bottle), just in case.....hahahahahah.....in CASE something comes out.

My dad gave one puff of that air stream and gas came flying out of that shit so hard that it rebounded out of the neck of the bottle - the small space doing what small spaces do to liquids - and going *right in my face* (I’m mostly fine.). I squeeze my eyes shut and I am not opening them bitches for hell or high water, but it took all of about 49 seconds before that shift started to burn and I made my dad led me inside. I didn’t panic, I just was like “you need to take me inside, I need soap because gas doesn’t dissolve in water. I can’t just wipe this off.”

We get inside and I’ve got my head bent over the sink complaining about how much the gas is burning my skin (this entire thing probably has only taken like 1-1.5 minutes at this point because my ass remembered from the six semesters of chem basically what to do when you get hydrocarbons places they shouldn’t be. But then.

THEN.

What do I do, I who has my face over the sink washing with dish soap because it was the closest thing in hand? I try to clean the corner of my eye and I get DISH SOAP IN MY EYE. It worse than the fuckin gas and I screamed. Like gas in the face and skin starting to get chemical burns? No problem, calmly ask for a towel and to be led to the sink. Lil soap in the eye? Scream at the top of my lungs and then try to explain to your very worried parents why you’re screaming.

And this will tell you all you ever need to know about my personality: I’m hung over the sink in pain covered in gas and I’m like “hey dad I told you that would work. So much for there not being gas in the line.”

I manage to clean up enough that I can see out my left eye so I go take a shower and continue to clean the right one with the soap in it and I’m fine except for your basic like soap in the eye nonsense and I checked the internet as you do to make sure I’d done everything. So I go downstairs and I’m like “dad I’ve named your car”

“I don’t really name my—“

“IVE NAMED THE CAR. It’s going to be called Sleipnir - the black horse of Odin, the ONE EYED *points at inflamed soap eye* god!”

#personal #random stories from my life #stuff I think is funny

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fablesrose · 5 years ago

Text

Of Kings and Shadows IV

Chapter IV

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: Find it on Wattpad --> Here

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Violence

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

The only thing on my mind when I got back was to get out of these sweaty clothes and take a shower.

Ever since that successful mission with the Avengers a couple weeks back I've been one more and more missions. Some in the new drone program, others, break in and blow stuff up, and still others, like this one, infiltration. Today it had to be quick, no extended period of time. In, get as much footage and information as possible, mostly about their tech and advancements for now, and get the heck out of there before they started to realize that they had extra agents in their halls.

I was in the team that went to the computers. Well, the back up, cuz we're smart enough not to go into the center heavily guarded computer lab and ask for them to download everything onto a flash drive... The back up was a room in a far corner, hooked up to the main lab, but all the info went to it, just in case. It could be readily accessible in case of emergency and they had to evacuate.

The progress on their largest, latest, and most dangerous projects were downloaded, and a bug placed in their system to spy and get the rest later. The computer room was hot, only too small of fans going to cool it down. The thick Hydra jacket wasn't helping in the temperature dilemma either. I dreaded having to replace the helmet and visor when we had to leave.

It went without a hitch, in and out. Now the shower was in the forefront of my mind. With my helmet on my head, for one, it was too hard to take off with all the straps, and two. for keeping my hands free for other stuff, I headed to my locker. The visor was put away immediately. I could almost feel the stream of water in my back, and the steam gently touching my face when the dream was crushed.

"Agent l/n!"

It was Brian Fletcher. Agent Brian Fletcher. He's been the dude in charge in... pretty much all of the missions I've been on in the past couple weeks. I learned his name on the second mission with him, and learned he was one who actually deserved respect twice as quickly. Incredible agent, and from what time I've spent working with him he seems like a good man. One thing is for sure, he's been doing this for a long time and knows what he's doing.

"y/n, I'm gonna need you to go down to the workshop... or where ever Mr. Stark is and give this to him." He handed me a file which I assumed had the information we just recovered.

"Yes, sir. I'll grab a quick shower and hand it off. "

"No, now."

I resisted the urge to groan, but failed to withhold, "why?"

Before I could retract the statement, or Brian could answer, there was a voice from across the locker room, "Because you're the only one here that Tony likes!"

He looked at me with a look that said, 'they have a point'

And I'd be lying if I didn't say I mirrored the expression.

So, I took the file, not bothering to take anything off, since this is so important. I trudged down the hallway, in the most respectful way possible.

I nodded to those I knew as I passed, the file securely in my hand. There were a few double takes at the uniform, but were quickly resolved once they noticed how disheveled the open jacket looked and saw my face. Which, looking back may not have been the best reaction, and wasn't a good decision on my part in the first place either...

Oh well.

I finally made it to the lab/workshop/whatever you want to call it. That shower was still calling my name, so I wanted to get this over as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the commute to Tony's den was not short, and my legs were not getting any younger. Fortunately, we have been making the Avengers compound our landing base, so it wasn't like I had to go from SHIELD headquarters to find him.

I knocked on the window, but the music was playing really loud to be heard over the louder machinery. Since he wasn't gonna let me in I decided to see if JARVIS would let me in.

"Hey, Jarvis"

"Yes ma'am"

"I've got orders to give this file to Tony, can I get in there?"

"It is open miss"

The door moved a little bit to show it was now open. It kinda made me wonder if it was open all along, but there wasn't anything telling me it was so I didn't think too hard about it.

"Thank you sir" I said it in a little sing song to show my appreciation without all the formal crap.

"Of course miss"

I could feel the bass guitar rattle my bones in just the right way. In the short time that I listened to it I could tell that it was an AC DC song, but not exactly which one. Not that I should know, I only did have about five on my recognizable list.

Right then Tony's peripheral vision must have picked me up as he stood up knocking his chair over behind him. It probably would have been smart of me if I had noticed he was working on a repulsor. That was on his hand. And now charged up. And pointed at me.

As any regular sane person, I didn't want to be blown sky high, so I raised my hands and made sure my face was visible so he could see who I was and that I was no threat. There was a tense probably ten seconds (which felt like hours, but you don't wanna know that) where the only movement was the metal shavings on the floor, vibrating with the guitar rifts.

"Mr. Stark? Its me, Agent Y/n L/n?"

He blinked a couple times, like he was clearing his vision. I realized he was probably really tired, and plus looking at something so small and close probably messed with his eyes. After a second he seemed to have registered who I was and smiled.

I let out a breath, then figured I had better explain why I scared him half to death.

"Hey so I was sent to give you this file, right away. I'm pretty sure it contains information we just acquired from that HYDRA base we just infiltrated." I set the file on his desk then had an idea. "Hey Jarvis?"

"Yes miss?"

"Make sure Mr. Stark doesn't forget this file, please?"

"Consider it done"

I smiled, "Thank you!"

I looked back at Tony to see that he was lowering his hand with the state of the art in weapon tech strapped to it. I was only alerted something was amiss when I noticed his eyes widen and look slightly above and behind me.

Then I was thrown into a wall.

The gut feeling washed over me too late. Maybe it wasn't even that gut feeling. Maybe it was just the churning from being tossed across the room, high enough in the air as to miss most of the equipment in the room. Whatever it was... It didn't help me at all.

My vision went black, and I felt light headed as if I stood up too quickly. Before I could recover, a hand wrapped itself around my throat. My vision came back slowly, but not before that same hand lifted me along the wall so high that my feet no longer touched the floor. They seemed to know what they were doing as they held me in a manner that limited my airflow, but left enough open for me to answer.

Or die slowly.

"That symbol has no place here!"

I finally saw who it was, and my eyes widened in shock.

Loki.

I didn't even know he was released and approved, yet. That being said, maybe he wasn't. The only thing that mattered that he was either gonna question me, hurt me, or kill me, in the next few minutes. Who knows? Maybe all three.

"What were you going to do to the tin man!?"

He tightened his grip, a threat to answer. His over eagerness betrayed him, however. My view started shrinking. His questions faded out, the shower that was so wanted before, now seemed like an out of reach luxury. One I no longer wanted or thought about. The only thing on my mind was the pain of being slammed yet again into the wall, and the ever decreasing oxygen supply.

I smacked at his hand. Tried to pull it apart. In a last ditch effort I kicked my legs. One of my feet hit something, it was obvious it was on the side of his body as my heal glanced off of him. It caused him to bend at the hip, causing less pressure up against the wall.

I started to slide down and used the opportunity to smack his hand off of my throat. Dropping the rest of the way to the ground, I crawled away, instincts kicking in.

"Woah, woah, woah!"

I fell on the ground trying to catch my breath. I could see Tony step between me and my assailant, back to me, holding his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

My hands started ripping off the helmet, which I suppose I should be grateful for, and then throwing the jacket as far away from me as possible revealing in full the SHIELD cut off sleeved t-shirt underneath. It seemed like it would help stop the wheezing, and it also seemed to help defuse the situation behind me.

Once the adrenaline started to fade, my mind reasoned with what happened.

He was defending... Tin man? Did he mean Tony? Oh, I'm getting dizzy again... The ground looks inviting... Man, is he strong... I Do Not... do not... not... want ... to be... on his bad side...

All the wheezing lead to a coughing fit. One that hurt like the devil and seemed to last just as long. A hand rested on my back, rubbing back and forth as if to soothe me. I glanced back, Tony was crouched beside me, looking concerned. My eyes wandered past him to the man who held my life in his hand a moment ago.

He gave a very stiff nod, not a single emotion easily read on his face. He then turned gracefully on his heal and strode almost silently from the room. Only then did I notice that the music wasn't playing. My coughs echoing around the workshop.

Tony helped me sit against the wall. I gingerly touched my throat, clenching my jaw when I realized how tender it was.

"Are you okay?"

The first sound that came out of my mouth sounded strangled, and it hurt just as much. I took a sharp intake of breath before trying again.

"I'll... " I took another deep breath, "Live." I rested my face in my hands, letting out a shaky breath. I didn't know that there were tears rolling down my cheeks until my fingers felt them.

"Okay, breathe in. Through the nose. Hold it..." His fingers were lightly touching my knee, perhaps in a gesture to show he's there.

He guided me through breathing exercises for a couple minutes. The way he watched me do it and helped showed this was far from the first time he's done this. For himself or others I didn't know.

Once my breathing became regular, or at least more regular, he helped me stand.

"Let's get you to the infirmity, that bruise is getting swollen."

I wobbled on my feet, grabbing onto his hand to help steady myself.

"Thank you, sir."

"Y/n, call me Tony... After we get you fixed up I'm gonna find out what the actual crap happened."

Tags: @nightrose64

#loki odinson #loki x reader #avengers x reader #avengersfanfiction #marvel #tony stark #shield #loki fanfic #pain #attack #comfort #x reader #avengers x you #Avengers #Of Kings and Shadows

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nicolewrites · 5 years ago

Text

We Stand, Fate-Tested - IV

I'm still stupid stressed over school and procrastinating so I'm not sure when I'll get part 5 out, but here's part 4 for the meantime.

Rating: T+ Genre: Mystery, Friendship, Romance Characters: [Byleth/My Unit, Dimitri B.], [Byleth/My Unit, Claude R.] Words: 5,458

There's something odd about the 8th of the Ethereal Moon. / Marriage is work too.

AO3 | FFN

IV - Of Memories I’ve Lost

Garreg Mach University - 8 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

Byleth was glad when Red Wolf Moon was over. She had been drowning in her own work as well as the marking for the class she was TAing. Because Seteth was teaching three different classes on top of his own research, he had delegated the marking of the term papers for the class to Byleth.

It really shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but Byleth had struggled to get them done on time thanks to her progressing research and managing the applications and interviews for the expedition. The start date for the project was rapidly approaching and, as of the previous week, they had finally managed to choose the undergrads would be a part of the team and had been rapidly working with them to try to get their skills up to snuff before they were handling real artifacts.

Even so, the marking was finally done and the essays sat in three towering stacks on her desk, just begging for a breeze to sweep by and knock them all over. Byleth was currently planning the first of several workshops that would teach practical skills to the undergrads. She kept glancing at the door of her office, waiting for the first students to come by to pick up their essays and she nearly spelt Lysithea’s name wrong on a sheet before she managed to shake away her distraction.

She looked down at the sheet in front of her and the list of eight names that she and Seteth had painstakingly chosen. There were the natural fits in Lysithea and Linhardt from Byleth’s tutorial as well as Ingrid, who had had an exceptionally well-written application. From Seteth’s tutorial there were also Annette Dominic and Ignatz Victor. The last three students were Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard. Byleth had a sneaking suspicion that their applications had been all written together and that they had all been Claude’s idea.

Nonetheless, they had their team of eight: Lysithea, Linhardt, Ingrid, Annette, Ignatz, Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard. Their applications had all been excellent and Byleth had been pleased with the level of enthusiasm exhibited by a group of undergraduate students, especially since technically none of them were actually Archaeology majors.

Someone knocked on the door and Byleth looked up, placing her pen down. Annette stood in the doorway, smiling shyly, as another girl stood just behind her. Byleth beckoned Annette in and the redhead came in, biting her lip and looking a bit skittish.

“Here for your essay?” Byleth asked.

Annette nodded. “I know your office hours haven’t technically started, but I wanted to beat the rush.”

Byleth waved her off. “No worries at all.” She flipped through the first few essays in her first stack until she found Annette’s essay and she pulled it out. She handed it over and Annette peeked at the grade before beaming and making her way out of the room.

After that, there was a steady stream of students that came by her office to pick up their term papers as well as to ask questions about the discussions planned for tutorial in the coming weeks. Byleth had handed back nearly all of the essays when her office hours officially ended and she started putting the rest of them away in the filing cabinet she kept for assignments and paperwork for the class.

“I hope we’re not too late, Teach,” a familiar voice called out just as she was closing the cabinet drawer.

Byleth looked over her shoulder and saw Claude standing in front of her desk, flanked by Lorenz and Hilda, the two friends who were in Byleth’s tutorial with him. She shook her head and pulled the drawer back open, fishing out the trio’s essays.

“I wanted to come right at the start at the hour, but these idiots said we should come at the end,” Lorenz said as Byleth retrieved the papers. It wasn’t surprising to her.

Hilda snorted a laugh. “We would have been late getting here if it wasn’t for me, so I’d watch your tone, Lorenz,” she snipped in reply.

Byleth handed Lorenz and Hilda their essays and was about to hand Claude’s back when he cleared his throat.

“I actually had a question about the essay, Teach,” he said before he’d even taken the paper out of her hand.

Byleth blinked in surprise and her grip lingered on Claude’s assignment for just long enough that it was awkward before he swept it out of her grip and sat in the chair on the other side of her desk.

“I’ll catch up with you guys back at the house,” Claude said to Hilda and Lorenz. His friends just shrugged and made their way out of the room, bickering about punctuality as they went.

Byleth watched them leave before she turned her gaze back to Claude and raised an eyebrow. “Did you really have a question about the essay?”

Claude grinned. “Just wanted to know what you thought of my topic.” He tapped the circled 88 on the front of the page and winked at her. “Apparently I picked a good one.”

Byleth shook her head. After three months she was getting to know Claude’s antics well enough. He was criminally light-hearted, but wicked smart. He liked to tease and poke fun, but he was serious about his work when it came down to it. Since the first time they’d spoken at Anna’s about Byleth’s research Claude had made it a habit to try and stop in on her office hours as often as possible so that they could talk about whatever research Byleth was currently doing.

It was a slightly weird relationship given that Byleth was the TA, but the semester was almost over and she somehow knew that just because she wasn’t seeing him in tutorial once a week, it didn’t mean he was going to stop coming around. And she didn’t really want him to stop. It was nice to talk about her passion to someone who was just as interested as she was.

“What do you want, Claude?” she prompted again.

He smirked. “Come on, Teach, tell me what’s new this week,” he urged.

Byleth rolled her eyes, but she turned her laptop towards him so that he could see what she was working on. “I’ve been doing stuff for Seteth all week so I haven’t really had any big breakthroughs since we last spoke.”

Claude scanned the screen of her computer curiously. “Do we have a start date yet?”

“Guardian Moon 17,” Byleth said. “You can pass that along to the others if you’d like. I’ll be sending out the email this weekend. We have our first training session next Wednesday night for everyone.”

“Wednesday?” Claude repeated, looking a bit perplexed.

“Problem?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe. I have archery on Wednesdays, and so does Ignatz, but if this is later in the evening we should be fine.”

Byleth leaned forward a bit and gave Claude her own sly grin. “Maybe I’ll just bring everyone to watch so we can put the pressure on you.”

He shrugged. “If you want to see me shoot flawlessly, be my guest.”

Byleth rolled her eyes and turned her computer back to face her. She tapped out a few more notes on the page before glancing back at Claude. “Did you actually need something?” she asked curiously.

“I came here to give you something,” he admitted.

Byleth was surprised, but Claude reached into his bag and pulled out a folded brochure. He unfolded it so she could see the front and passed it to her. It was in a mix of Almyran and Fódlani, but Byleth recognized the logo on the front of it.

She ran a fingernail over the looping script and glanced at Claude, furrowing her brow. “The Royal Almyran Gallery? This is in Almyra, you know,” Byleth murmured. “They’re not exactly jumping at the idea of a Fódlani researcher entering their royal galleries.”

“You’re hitting all the same deadends as everyone else who has ever studied the Guardian of Order,” Claude pointed out. “There’s no way that you’re going to make progress unless you try to tackle something that other people haven’t attempted to dig into.”

“Like the underside of Garreg Mach in the old monastery ruins, not in a foreign national gallery,” Byleth said. She placed the brochure down and shook her head. “I can’t exactly just get up and go to Almyra right now anyways.”

“What about over the winter break?” Claude asked. “The galleries aren’t busy during the holidays. Almyrans usually spend the holidays completely absorbed in family and celebration.”

Byleth spun the paper underneath her fingers. She had to admit, the idea was intriguing. Almyra had done a much better job of preserving artifacts from the Unification Era since they hadn’t suffered the Scorch of Garreg Mach or the riots in Fhirdiad that had followed it. Even so, the National Board of History in Fódlan had seen the Almyran collection and deemed it unimportant to Fódlan’s own history. She wasn’t sure exactly what the Royal Gallery could offer her, but she also didn’t know what it might have that could be useful for her work, even if it was all just speculation.

“You will consider it, won’t you?” Claude asked. “I’ll be in Almyra over the winter break if you did want to check it out.”

Byleth finally relented, picking up the brochure and sliding it into one of the drawers on her desk. “I’ll consider it,” she agreed.

Claude grinned. “Excellent. Now, tell me about that crazy dream you had last night.”

Byleth’s eyebrows shot up. She had said nothing of her weird dream to Claude. She had very briefly discussed it with Seteth in private a few hours ago, but she had said nothing to her student about it. She hadn’t the faintest idea about how he knew she had even had a weird dream.

“I had to see Dr. Cichol about a history assignment and I just happened to overhear part of your conversation,” Claude confessed when she had been stunned into silence. “I only know that there was a dream and that apparently it was weird.”

Byleth frowned. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. That was a private conversation, Claude.”

He shrugged, looking only mildly apologetic. “You don’t want to get my opinion on it at all?”

Byleth leaned away from him, pursing her lips. “And why would I want your opinion?”

Claude tilted his head and looked at her. “I don’t know. For the same reason you haven’t kicked my ass for asking you a million questions about your thesis and for being probably the worst student in your tutorial section?”

“The worst student?”

“Well, most people aren’t on a first-name basis outside of tutorial with a TA, are they?”

“That’s just because I can’t get rid of you,” she teased.

He smiled at her again and the glint in his green eyes made her chest hurt suddenly. The satisfied look on his face combined with the mischievous gleam was pulling at something in her memory and she couldn’t help but remember the weird dream from the previous night. She dropped her gaze to the desk and took a deep breath.

“You’re sure that we’d never met before this year, right? We’d never had a class together or chatted at a party?” Byleth asked. The teasing humour had disappeared from her voice and Claude seemed to pick up on it.

His brow furrowed and he dropped his amused pretenses. “No, I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that,” he said.

Byleth bit her lip and nodded. “Have you ever felt like everything you ever did was leading you in circles?”

Claude looked genuinely interested now, his playfulness suppressed by his curiosity. “At times, maybe,” he said. “Something about this is familiar to you?”

Byleth opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a notebook. She flipped through it to the page where she had made the sketch that morning, after her dream. She turned the page to face Claude and let him pick it up to study it closer.

“It’s a throne,” he noted. “It looks like it’s Old Civilization.”

“It’s pre-Unification,” Byleth agreed. “That symbol,” she pointed to the roughly sketched swirl on the back of it, “makes me think it would be religious. Seteth says he doesn’t recognize it and I haven’t found any record of it in the old monastery’s records.”

“Maybe it’s in the capital somewhere?” Claude asked. “Dimitri and Edelgard have spent a lot more time in Fhirdiad than I have, so I can’t be certain.”

“It’s not in Fhirdiad,” Byleth said. “I don’t know why I know that, but I know it’s not there. I dreamt of a large, empty stone chamber for three days in a row and then last night I dreamt of the same chamber, but this throne was there.” She paused, recalling the longing that had coursed through her when she had seen it for the first time in her dream. “I wanted to sit on it,” she murmured.

Claude looked puzzled and he slid the notebook back to her. “Honestly, while I’m not one to subscribe to all the spirit stuff, it seems to me like you have real memories of it that have been surfacing slowly.”

Byleth closed the book and slid it back into the drawer. She brushed her thumb over the handle on the drawer and frowned. “That’s honestly what I’ve been kind of afraid of,” she admitted.

- ~ -

It was late in the evening by the time Byleth had finally finished up everything she had wanted to do on campus. The sun had set almost two hours ago and the dim, artificial yellow lighting across campus provided only enough illumination to make every student or staff that passed by her a looming shadow.

She pulled her coat tighter around her stomach and burrowed her nose into the scarf she was wearing. Byleth had just left the part of campus where the Archaeology and History departments had their offices and she was headed through the main part of the campus when she spotted a lone figure standing on the quad in front of one of the dean’s offices.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she slowly approached the figure, squinting through the gloom to see if she recognized them. To her surprise, as the figure tilted their head up, illuminating their features, Byleth recognized Dimitri as he stared solemnly at the building. Almost immediately she stopped walking, pausing around 30 feet away from him. She wanted to approach him and check in on him, but at the same time, the moment felt strangely private and she wanted to respect that.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to make a decision, as Dimitri turned and spotted her himself. His shoulders straightened and he tucked his hands into his pockets. He strode towards her and Byleth noted the polite smile that he was wearing. It looked forced, but practiced at the same time and Byleth felt her heart clench. It was a smile achingly similar to the one she had worn after her father had died.

“Hello Byleth,” Dimitri greeted politely once he had gotten close enough.

“Hello Dimitri,” she replied cordially. “What are you doing here so late?”

He laughed lightly. “Well, we are getting into the end of term and I’ve got a few last assignments to turn in by the end of this week. I had been working in the library, but they’re closed now, so I’m headed home.”

He was lying. She wasn’t sure exactly how she knew, but maybe it was simply the fact that she knew Dimitri was a business student and the business library was at the south end of campus, not near the centre where they currently stood in the cold night air.

Byleth frowned. “Is everything alright, Dimitri?” she pressed carefully.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, smiling ruefully, but much more genuinely. “You are very perceptive,” he admitted. “Everything is alright though,” he assured. “I’ve just been feeling a bit off today. It’s like there’s something about this date, in particular, that is an itch I can’t scratch. I’d been trying to follow that feeling and I ended up here.”

Byleth glanced at the offices around the quad. This building was one of the oldest on campus and was part of the restored old monastery. Above each of the three main offices was a beautiful stone carving. From left to right they depicted a deer, a lion, and an eagle. They were the symbols of the three student-life houses that Claude had told her about, and if her research was true, they were also the symbols of the old Officer’s Academy that had been run out of the monastery.

“I get the feeling,” Byleth admitted. “It’s like there’s this string in your chest that’s yanking you along through memories that don’t feel like yours.”

“Yes,” Dimitri agreed. “I never spend much time on this part of campus, but this,” he gestured to the carving of the lion over their heads, “it feels so strangely familiar.”

“Maybe it’s the Blue Lions of old speaking through you,” Byleth suggested lightly and Dimitri laughed softly.

“I should like to think I would know if that were the case.”

He fell silent after a moment and Byleth studied him. He looked tired, but a lot less solemn than he had when she had first found him.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Byleth said before she could stop herself.

Dimitri’s shoulders tensed, but then they relaxed and he sighed. “Yes, it seems like everyone is.”

Byleth reached out to touch his arm and he looked towards her. There was a deep, resonating sadness to the blue of his eyes and before she could stop herself, her hand had found its way to land on his cheek. Dimitri, to his credit, didn’t react to the boldness of the gesture and Byleth gently retracted her touch.

“I lost my father too,” she admitted quietly. “The circumstances were different, but I’m still sorry you had to go through that.”

Dimitri nodded. “I’ve been well supported, thankfully. I’m sorry for your loss as well. Unlike what people say, it doesn’t really get any easier.”

Byleth smiled sadly. “No, it doesn’t.”

A sharp, cool wind blew around them and Byleth bristled in her coat, shivering. She nearly stepped closer to Dimitri on an instinctual level but managed to catch herself before she could. She stepped away instead, leaving a respectable distance between them. They were familiar enough, but the intimacy in the moment they had shared was almost alarming to her and she needed a clear head.

“Get home safe, Dimitri,” Byleth said gently. She tugged her coat more tightly around herself and gave him one last reassuring smile. “I’ll see you in tutorial.”

- ~ - ~ - ~ -

Garreg Mach Monastery - 12 Lone Moon, 1 AU

“The church is really coming along, Your Grace,” Claude complimented. There was a teasing lilt to his voice when he said her title and Byleth elbowed him.

“Just because you don’t believe in the goddess, doesn’t mean nobody else does,” she scolded lightly.

Claude shrugged. “You’re the one who invited the foreign national to visit,” he pointed out.

Byleth sighed. He was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. She walked away from him instead, heading toward the Reception Hall of the monastery, assuming he would follow. He did so, after a few paces, and they walked silently back through the bustling halls of the monastery. Monks and knights would pause in their step to nod or bow to Byleth and she offered them the best smiles she could before they were passing her by and moving on with their tasks.

“It feels different around here now, doesn’t it?” Byleth asked as she led Claude into the Reception Hall.

“Maybe that’s just because we’ve all changed so much. It has been six years since we started our year at the Officer’s Academy. Cyril tells me that you’re reopening the academy in the Great Tree Moon of next year,” Claude commented.

Byleth laughed. “To say we’ve changed is a bit of an understatement. Fódlan has changed a lot too.”

“Definitely,” Claude agreed. “I can’t take anything away from you or His Majesty on that front. You two have done a wonderful job.”

Byleth paused in her step and studied him. “You could have helped us,” she reminded.

Claude laughed. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to be here as foreign royalty. I would just be another Lord under His Majesty and the Almyrans would still be pounding at Fódlan’s Locket.”

Byleth sighed. “I suppose that’s true. What is it they have taken to calling you, the King of Dawn?”

He shrugged. “My father’s rule was stagnating. I suppose I have merely supplied a breath of fresh air for Almyrans. The new partnership with Fódlan has helped me curry more favour than I would like to admit.”

Before Byleth could reply, a familiar, booming voice pulled their attention across the Reception Hall: “Claude! Byleth!”

Byleth smiled at the familiar voice as she watched her husband approach them. He was smiling broadly as he took in Byleth and Claude. He paused to embrace Claude briefly before turning to Byleth and pressing a warm kiss against her cheek in greeting. Dimitri tried to pull away, but Byleth gripped his collar and planted a soft kiss on his lips before he could withdraw fully.

Claude laughed at her. “I see you two are the same as always.”

Dimitri slid one of his hands into hers as he smiled. “We try to be. How have you been Claude? We haven’t seen you in person since the Ethereal Moon.”

Byleth felt a pulse of unexpected bitterness rise in her chest and she bit down her retort. She didn’t want to snap at Dimitri when he was visiting the monastery, especially with how infrequent his visits had been recently. She didn’t want to complain, especially in front of Claude, about how she had spent almost as much time with Claude as she had with her husband since they’d been married.

Of course, it was a burden they had to bear. Byleth had a responsibility to the church at the monastery and Dimitri had a responsibility to the nation in Fhirdiad, so they spent much of their time separated by distance and work. It wasn’t exactly the married life she had imagined for them.

Claude and Dimitri had moved onto discussing some political motion that was in the works in Fhirdiad by the time Byleth managed to refocus on the conversation and she squeezed Dimitri’s hand. She stole a glance at him and noticed that he looked even more tired than he had when he had arrived three days prior.

“You must exclude me, Claude, my beloved, but I have something I have to do before dinner this evening. I will see you both then,” Dimitri said. He smiled at Claude and leaned down to give Byleth another brief kiss before he pulled his hand out of hers and was slipping away.

Byleth couldn’t manage to disguise her disappointment fast enough as she caught Claude giving her a curious look as Dimitri walked away. She quickly frowned and turned so Claude was only looking at her profile, hoping to dissuade whatever conversation he wanted to have about the interaction.

“This is different from the last time I was here,” Claude noted quietly. “His Kingliness is usually much better at picking up your signals. He was always better at it than anyone else, so it’s odd to see him so blind to it today.”

Byleth’s frown deepened. “We both have our own duties,” she said firmly. “There is no break for us in any of this.”

“No,” Claude agreed, “but surely a man can take a break to shower his wife with praises?”

Byleth sighed. “I don’t know why you think you’re qualified to speak on someone else’s relationship,” she pointed out sternly.

“Consider this the concern of a friend then,” he supplied. “Teach, I have never met a man more enamoured with a woman than Dimitri is with you. But, if that’s what all of your interactions have been like recently, something is wrong.”

Byleth sighed. “We got through the war,” she said simply. “We will get through this.”

She walked away from Claude then, not really caring if he followed her. It wasn’t that she was angry with him for his words, more frustrated that her own emotions regarding hers and Dimitri’s relationship had been so easy for him to discern. She was also frustrated that he had been right in the first place in noting the disconnect between the spouses. Besides their short, snipped conversations in the evenings and mornings, Byleth honestly couldn’t remember the last time she and Dimitri had had a real, personal conversation and it did make her nervous.

Without intending to, Byleth headed for the training grounds. It was an old habit she had of working out stress through fighting, something that had developed during her years growing up as a mercenary. The grounds were thankfully empty and Claude seemed to have picked up on her annoyance and had wisely chosen not to follow her.

Byleth set up a line of training dummies and then a line of magic targets on the far side of the hall. She forewent the training weapons, opting to work on her brawling skills. She picked the softest of the dummies and started with a few slow jabs before she worked into a faster, harder-hitting set that made her hands throb minorly. The pain was therapeutic, though. It reminded her that she was feeling and that helped, especially on days like this.

Once she had worn out her brawling drill, she chose to start in on her magic skills. Byleth called a crackling Thunder spell between her fingers and she turned to fire it at the targets she had set up, only to have to jerk her hand sharply left and blast lightning into the corner of the room, where it crackled and smoked with a bang.

Felix, who stood directly in front of her targets, seemed unphased as he strode towards her. Byleth folded her arms and frowned at him.

“I could have killed you,” she pointed out.

“I’ve taken a Thunder from you before,” he noted. “I’ve taken your spells at full-strength before, not when they were powered by your frustrations.”

Byleth blinked at him. “My frustrations?” she echoed.

“Don’t cast when you’re overly emotional,” he said. “You were the one who taught me that after I nearly burned Sylvain’s arm off. There’s nothing more dangerous to a magic-user than losing control.”

She had indeed taught both the Gautier and Fraldarius heirs the importance of control when they had been learning magic under her tutelage during their academy days and during the war. Byleth uncrossed her arms and brushed some of her hair out of her face.

“What are you doing here, Felix? I didn’t know you would be coming here with Dimitri.”

“Technically I’m not here with him,” Felix admitted. “We’re actually here to see Mercedes.”

“We?” Byleth questioned.

Felix’s lips pressed together and Byleth answered her own question as the pieces clicked in her mind. She smiled.

“Congratulations, Felix,” she commended.

He nodded. “Thank you. Annette will find you to tell you officially before we leave.”

“Are you just here to avoid all the celebratory talks then?” Byleth questioned, gesturing to the training hall.

“I was looking for you, actually,” Felix corrected.

Byleth frowned again, her optimism draining away. “Why?”

“Because I heard you and Dimitri got into it yesterday,” he admitted.

It was true. At the meeting with Claude to discuss foreign treaties the day before, Dimitri had pressed Byleth and the church for resources they couldn’t supply and she had, in return, pressed him for legislation that wasn’t supported by a majority of his advisors. It had definitely been one of their uglier discussions, especially since their wedding and doubly so since they had a spectator in Claude.

“We handled it,” Byleth said curtly, which was also true, but only thanks to Claude stepping in as a mediator.

“You did,” Felix pointed out. “Dimitri has been beating himself up about it all day. That’s why he’s been avoiding you.”

“Avoiding me?” she said.

“You haven’t noticed? How whenever you two run into each other, he miraculously has some meeting or something to get to shortly after you see each other? How he seemed to have more to say to your mutual friend than he did to his wife earlier in the Reception Hall?”

Byleth pressed her lips together. “I didn’t notice,” she admitted softly.

Felix exhaled. “I know. That’s why I’m here. Because, as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise, Dimitri will never be the same as he was before the war. He’ll never be that perfect, princely figure again and he’ll certainly never be able to see himself in the same way again. Professor, he loves you very much so he’ll do his best to make sure you never notice, but he’s still struggling.”

Byleth twisted her hands together, rubbing her wedding ring almost nervously. “How could I miss that? Shouldn’t I notice things like that?”

Felix reached out and, in a rare move for him, placed his hands on her shoulders. “Professor, he is taking all the precautions to ensure you don’t see what he’s going through. He’s gotten better at hiding things from you since you’ve been here and he’s been in the capital. That’s why we’re here, right now,” he confessed.

Something clicked in her head. “Dedue wrote to Claude to invite him, didn’t he? And you and Ingrid and Sylvain and the others made sure that Dimitri would be here where we wouldn’t be able to hide from each other.”

Felix didn’t answer her question directly, but the answer glimmered in his amber eyes. “You take care of each other. You bring out the best in each other.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. “Don’t lose that, Professor. There’s a lot riding on that trust and love going forward.”

Felix took another step back and then he was fully retreating, heading out of the training hall. The door closed behind him and Byleth was alone. She felt anchored to the spot and afraid. She was scared of being blind enough to miss the self-hatred that roiled in Dimitri. She had always been able to see it before and if she was losing that gift, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

She loved him, that much was certain, and obviously their friends cared about them both a great deal too.

Byleth immediately left the training hall and jogged through the hallways of the monastery. She hadn’t done much running in the halls since her ascension and there was something oddly freeing in the action. She felt a smile creeping up on her face as she dodged around people and made for the Cardinal’s Room on the second floor where Dimitri was supposed to be in a meeting.

She opened the door and immediately saw her husband speaking with a few Alliance nobles. The conversations halted when she appeared in the doorway and Dimitri rose from his seat, surprise etching across his face.

“Your Majesty,” Byleth said politely, “I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.”

Dimitri nodded politely to the nobles he had been conversing with and followed her out of the room into the hall. Byleth led him ten paces away from the door before she pivoted sharply to face him. She reached up and grasped his face, pulling him down for an urgent kiss. He reciprocated after a brief moment of surprise and Byleth pulled away, staring Dimitri in his good eye.

“I love you,” she said firmly. “I will never be angry with you for fighting for your country. I am proud of you and there is no one I would rather do any of this with,” she said, letting her emotions flow through her words.

Dimitri stared at her face for a long moment before he kissed her again, more firmly than she had kissed him, and he let the kiss linger for a second longer. He inhaled shakily and pressed their foreheads together. Byleth rocked onto her tiptoes to relieve the strain on his neck due to their height difference and Dimitri smiled gently.

“Okay,” he breathed out.

“I love you,” she said again.

“I love you too,” he replied.

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latetothegreysparty · 6 years ago

Text

New Traditions

Hello, lovely people! Wishing you all a magnificent Thanksgiving! As usual, I’ve decided to write a holiday-themed fic. I hope you all enjoy!

New Traditions

“Dr. Shepherd, you’re needed in the trauma bay.”

Amelia did her best to put on a smile for the nurse who was calling to her down the hall. She was just the messenger; it wasn’t her fault. “Could you please page Dr. Nelson?” Amelia asked. She sincerely hoped she had succeeded in keeping her tone calm and friendly. “I’m not on call today. I just stopped in to check on a couple of my patients, but I’m trying to get out of here to go enjoy the holiday with my family.”

“I understand, and I’m really sorry, Dr. Shepherd, but there was a pile up on the highway, and Dr. Nelson is in the middle of a surgery that is projected to last another 4 hours. They really need a neurosurgeon down there to help triage. Do you think you could spare a bit of time?”

Amelia winced. She wanted to help. She really did. But Owen, Leo, and Betty were all waiting for her at the Thanksgiving dinner at Meredith’s house, and it pained her to think that she would be missing out on the first Thanksgiving dinner she could ever remember that was going to be the way it was supposed to be: a proper turkey dinner with all the fixings shared with the people you love without any anger or drama. She’d never even had this when she was growing up, let alone in her adult life, and she wasn’t about to give it up. On the other hand, the people in the trauma bay had just had their Thanksgiving plans wrecked far more than hers were about to be, and she felt like a total jerk for wanting to walk out on those people so she could eat some turkey and make fun of the quantity of pie Owen would inevitably eat. “Okay,” she conceded. “I’ll head down there, but Nelson is going to need to take any cases that end up being surgical. I can’t bail on my family all day long.”

“Thank you,” the nurse said with a grateful smile. Amelia headed off to the trauma bay without another word.

Immediately upon arriving in the trauma bay, Amelia was pressed into service. “Trauma bay 2, Dr. Shepherd,” called the nurse who was in charge of managing the steady stream of patients and providers. Amelia obediently filed into trauma bay 2 just in time to hear the paramedic handing off the patient.

“32 year-old male. Motor vehicle accident. Restrained driver in a vehicle that was struck from the rear. No other passengers in his vehicle. Blunt injuries to the head and abdomen. GCS is 12. Bilateral large-bore antecubital IVs established in the bus. 50 micrograms of fentanyl and 150 milliliters of normal saline administered in the bus. Airway is stable.” The patient was transferred smoothly to the gurney, and Amelia immediately grabbed her penlight and took her place at the head of the bed to begin her assessment.

The next 45 minutes seemed to fly. She went from room to room, assessing each patient and determining their neurological risks. A few had been sent for head CTs, but thankfully none of them presented with an obvious neurosurgical emergency. She was now walking into her last consult from this pile-up. She was about to step into the room when a familiar face came into view. “Owen, what are you doing here?” she asked. “Where are Betty and Leo?”

Owen stopped and whirled around to face her. “I got called in for the pile-up. They said trauma was slammed and they needed an extra pair of hands. Betty and Leo are still at Mere’s house. Betty said she and Leo would be fine without us, and Mere, Maggie, Alex, and Jo are all still there with them. I’m hoping none of these cases end up being surgical so I can get back there soon.”

“Unless this person needs emergency neurosurgery, I’ll head there right after this one,” Amelia replied. “I’m not even on call, but Nelson was in surgery, so they asked me to come down and help. I told them I’d help assess patients, but if there’s any patient who needs neurosurgery that doesn’t need to be done immediately, I’m passing that off to Nelson.”

Owen nodded. “Shall we get in there and see this guy so we can get back to the pie?” he asked with a small smirk.

She nudged him good-naturedly. “It’s always about the pie with you,” she said already on her way into the room.

Amelia was extremely grateful that Owen was the trauma surgeon on this last case of the day. Though she worked well with nearly everyone in the hospital, there was something to be said for chemistry. They knew each other’s tendencies, and they could work seamlessly around one another, rarely even requiring words to stay out of each other’s way and anticipate each other’s next moves. Thanks to their ability to work efficiently, they managed to finish their assessments within 5 minutes. “Your head seems just fine to me,” Amelia said, smiling reassuringly at the middle-aged man who looked quite anxious.

“So I don’t need brain surgery?” he asked.

“Nope, no brain surgery,” she confirmed.

“Actually, no surgery period,” Owen chimed in. “It looks like you don’t have any injuries that are really serious. We’ll have you taken back to the ER, and they’ll give you any fluids and medications you need. You should be out of here by this evening.”

The patient breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you, doctors. I really appreciate it.”

“It was our pleasure,” Owen replied on both of their behalfs. They each shook hands with him and wished him a happy Thanksgiving before stepping out of the room. As soon as the door shut, Owen steered Amelia off to the side. “Imagine that: things actually worked out in our favor for once. It looks like neither of us have to go to surgery. Would you like a ride back to Mere’s place, or do you want to drive yourself?”

Amelia was about to respond when their conversation was interrupted by a frantic-sounding intern. “Dr. Hunt, we just got another one in trauma bay 1, and the FAST showed free fluid in his abdomen. Can you take him back to the OR with us?”

Owen didn’t even attempt to hide his frustration. “I’m not the trauma surgeon on call today. I just stopped by because I was told trauma was slammed, but I was at dinner with my family. Can the on-call trauma surgeon take this?”

The look on the intern’s face told Owen he wasn’t going to like the answer. “Dr. Baker is already in an ex-lap that looks pretty complicated, and they’re worried that this patient we have might be bleeding briskly. They told me that they really need you to do it.”

Owen turned back to Amelia and winced apologetically. “I’m so sorry about this. Do you mind going back to Mere’s house alone for a little while until I get this patient under control?”

Amelia smiled widely. “We’ve been tag-teaming for months now. This is nothing new. Go do your ex-lap, and we’ll see you in a little while.” She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek and then turned and walked out of the trauma bay.

She had just gotten changed back into her street clothes when her phone chimed from its place in her purse. A quick glance at the screen told her that Betty was texting her. She swiped absentmindedly at the screen as she began to walk out of the hospital.

I need a meeting.

Amelia was already calling Betty before she even had time to think about it. She didn’t wait for Betty to speak when she answered the call. “What happened?” Amelia blurted out.

“I’m so sorry,” Betty gushed, the panic evident in her voice. “Seriously, I’m really sorry-”

“Betty, calm down,” Amelia said gently, slowly. “Just tell me what happened.”

Amelia could hear the deep breath Betty took before she began to respond. “It’s nothing. It’s just that everybody here is drinking wine and beer and stuff. And now people are starting to get kinda buzzed. I thought I was okay, but then I went back to the kitchen for more veggies, and I wanted so badly to grab the bottle of wine. I was already grabbing a glass before I even had time to think.”

“Did you have a drink?” Amelia asked, her tone calm and measured.

“No,” Betty replied. “I looked down when the glass was in one hand and the bottle was in the other. I panicked, so I set them back down on the counter, ran out the front door, and then I texted you. God, everybody probably thinks I’m a freak. I just ran out of the house like a crazy person. I’m so sorry.”

“Betty, stop,” Amelia said, her tone firm and commanding. “Do not apologize. You did the right thing. Thank you for texting me. I know it’s hard to walk away and ask for help when you get a craving like that. I’m so proud of you. I’m coming to get you right now, and we’ll go to a meeting. Do you think you’re okay to go back inside and grab Leo, or should I call Meredith and have her bring him out to you?”

“No, I think I’m fine. I can get Leo.”

“Please stay on the phone with me while you do,” Amelia requested. “And stay out of the kitchen. Just grab Leo and come straight back out of the house. I’ll be there soon.”

“But what about everyone else?” Betty asked. “Isn’t it rude to just leave like that without saying anything?”

“Don’t worry about that. Everyone will understand. Your health comes first. It always comes first. Go back inside, grab Leo, and wait outside for me. You don’t need to worry about anything else.”

When Amelia arrived in Meredith’s driveway, Betty was standing on the porch staring vacantly at Leo’s covered bassinet. Amelia quickly killed the engine and walked up to meet Betty on the porch. She took the bassinet from Betty as she spoke. “Everything’s going to be okay. Just come get in the car.” Betty nodded slowly before following Amelia back to the vehicle.

With practiced hands, Amelia managed to get Leo fastened into his car seat quickly. When she climbed back into the driver’s seat, she found Betty staring out the window with wide eyes. “Hey,” Amelia said softly, grabbing Betty’s left hand. “Thank you for texting me. I know this probably seems like a lot right now, but we’ll get you through this. I am so proud of you for recognizing that you were struggling and asking for help before you had a slip. That is huge progress.” Betty’s smile was small, but it was enough for Amelia.

When they arrived in the parking lot of the small church, Amelia wasn’t surprised to find quite a few cars in the parking lot. Thanksgiving had a tendency to be a rough day, both because of the free-flowing alcohol and the family drama that tended to be prevalent at Thanksgiving dinners. After putting the car in park and shutting off the engine, she turned to face Betty with a smile. “Do you want to grab Leo, or do you want me to?”

“I’ve got him,” Betty said softly, already beginning to get out of the car. Amelia nodded before going to the backseat, getting Leo out of the car, handing him to Betty, and leading the way into the building.

Once they had settled into a couple of chairs with coffee in their hands and Leo on Betty’s lap, Amelia turned to check on Betty. “Are you doing alright? Do you want me to go first?”

Betty nodded gratefully. “If you don’t mind.”

Amelia smiled kindly. “Of course not.” She waited until a few people had shared before speaking up. “I’m Amelia, and I’m an addict,” she began. “Thanksgiving can be so hard. It used to be awful for me. God, I could bore you for the next hour with stories of poor choices I’ve made on Thanksgiving throughout the years. It just feels like the perfect storm. There’s booze everywhere. There’s too many people around to really notice if you make a bad decision. There’s family everywhere. And for me, that is a big problem. Well, it used to be, anyway. My relationship with my family is complicated, and Thanksgiving was always the time when we were all reminded that everyone else is a rockstar, and Amelia still doesn’t have her shit together. They were never trying to be mean. They love me. I know that. But it always seemed to give me that little nudge I needed to have a drink or pop some pills. Or both. This year is different, though. This year, I’m spending the day with people I love and who love me. People who bring out the best in me. So I haven’t had any cravings today, and I am so grateful to those people.” Amelia didn’t turn toward Betty as she reached over and squeezed her knee, silently offering her thanks and support.

The room was silent for a moment before Betty spoke up. “I’m Betty, and I’m an addict. This is my first Thanksgiving in recovery. I didn’t realize how hard it would be. I thought it would be amazing to have dinner with people who care for me and treat me well and don’t judge me. And it was amazing. I feel like this is what Thanksgiving is supposed to be. But then I ruined it. I saw everyone drinking, and I started to get the urge, and I couldn’t control it. I almost slipped, and then I went outside and texted my sponsor.” She threw a glance in Amelia’s direction. “So now we’re here at a meeting instead of having dinner like we should be because I’m too weak to say no by myself.”

After a few more shares and a recitation of the Serenity Prayer, the meeting came to a close. Amelia waited until they were in the car and on the road to speak to Betty. “Betty, I know we normally try not to talk about our shares outside of the meeting, so please stop me if you don’t want to talk right now, but I really want to say this to you.” Betty said nothing, so Amelia went on. “It kills me that you feel bad about what happened. Because this is exactly what is supposed to happen.”

“What, a junkie teenager keeping you from the stuffing and green bean casserole?” Betty bit out sarcastically.

“No,” Amelia argued, ignoring the snarky tone. “Thanksgiving is supposed to be about the people, not about the food. I’d much rather sit in some old, dingy church sharing love, acceptance, and grace with a beautiful young woman who has brought so much richness to my life than sitting around a fancy table eating delicious food, worrying more about what people think of the casserole I made than the people I’m sharing it with. Thank you for texting me. Thank you for trusting me with your struggles. It means a lot. You have given me so much to be thankful for. I couldn’t imagine a better holiday.”

She glanced sideways at Betty, and she could see the emotion setting into her eyes. Luckily, Amelia’s phone rang, giving Betty a reprieve from having to respond to Amelia’s words. A glance at the screen told Amelia it was Owen calling. “What’s up?” she asked into the phone.

“I just finished up with my ex-lap. I’m changing out of my scrubs. Should I meet you back at Meredith’s place?”

“Change of plans,” Amelia replied. “Betty, Leo, and I are on our way home. Meet us there.”

“Okay,” Owen said. His voice sounded a bit confused, but he didn’t ask any questions. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

Owen ended up arriving at home just as Amelia and Betty had begun to rummage through the pantry and refrigerator. “What’s going on?” he asked while picking Leo up out of his bouncy seat.

“We’re planning Thanksgiving dinner,” Amelia said, turning to face him with an amused grin as she pulled a box of macaroni and cheese out of the pantry. “I’m thinking mac and cheese with a side of canned pears. What about you, Betty?”

Betty shut the freezer door. “I found some pizza rolls and fish sticks. And mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.”

“Perfect,” Amelia said. “Owen can, you start preheating the oven while I get going on the mac and cheese?”

Owen still looked utterly confused by the situation, but the look on Amelia’s face told him now was not the time to ask questions. “Sure,” he replied slowly before making his way to the oven to begin working on his assigned role.

30 minutes later, Owen, Amelia, and Betty sat around the table, their plates filled with the comfort foods they had found around the kitchen. Leo sat in his high chair between Betty and Owen, happily grabbing after a few pears with his hands. “Turkey is so overrated,” Amelia lamented. “I vote we do pizza rolls and mac and cheese every year. This is awesome.”

“Just as long as Betty cooks the pizza rolls every year,” Owen responded.

Amelia narrowed her eyes as she turned to face Owen. “Excuse me, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you burn them every single time you make them.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Amelia asked incredulously. “I slave over a hot oven to make you food when you’re too caught up in your football game to feed yourself, and this is the kind of thanks I get?” She dipped her index finger into her mac and cheese and swiped some of the cheesy sauce down the side of his cheek. “Screw you!” Betty burst out laughing as Owen dipped his finger into his own mac and cheese to retaliate. Leo chose that moment to slam his hands down into the pear juice on the tray of his high chair, and pretty soon everyone had a bit of food on their faces, hands, and clothing.

Once the excitement had died down, Owen and Amelia set to work cleaning up the kitchen while Betty took Leo to the bathroom to clean the pear juice from his face. “Seriously, can we do this again next year?” Owen asked while putting away the baking sheet. “This was really nice.”

“Let’s do this every year,” Amelia agreed, and she couldn’t stop the smile that split her face in half. There was really something to be said for new traditions.

#omelia #omeliafic #omeliafanfic #amelia shepherd #owen hunt #betty nelson #leo nelson #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy

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duhragonball · 6 years ago

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Continuity

I’m still reading Star Wars comics from the original Marvel run of 1977-1986. Last night, I made it to the Return of the Jedi adaptation, so now I’ve read all the issues set between that movie and Empire Strikes Back. As I expected, these comics (#45-80) feel a lot more like authentic Star Wars stories than the pre-ESB issues (#7-38). The biggest plot hole that I noticed was that Luke still has his lightsaber throughout this period, despite losing it on Bepsin.

It occurred to me later that this wasn’t necessarily a mistake. There’s a deleted scene from ROTJ which shows Luke assembling his new lightsaber right before the mission to save Han Solo from Jabba the Hut. This strongly implies that Luke didn’t have a lightsaber of his own between Episodes V and VI. This was further supported by the ROTJ radio drama, produced in 1996, which incorporates the deleted scene into the story. There, Luke expresses frustration with how difficult it is to build a lightsaber, and then he finally realizes that he should have been using the Force to assemble the pieces. I haven’t read the novelization of the movie, but maybe it was touched on there as well.

Later sources indicated that building your own lightsaber is the final ritual for completing your Jedi training. This is shown in the 2002 Clone Wars cartoon, where Barriss Offee assembles her own saber on Ilum, under the supervision of Luminara Unduli. I’m pretty sure this scene was inspired by Darth Vader’s line in ROTJ, when he observed that Luke’s training is complete after checking out his badass green lightsaber. The implication is that building your own lightsaber is difficult enough that Luke would have to be a Jedi Knight just to pull it off.

But in the early 80′s, none of that lore existed, and it would be a simple matter for writers to assume that Luke had no trouble at all getting a spare. What I find strange is that no one bothered to explain where this spare lightsaber came from. It’s like the writers just assumed he never lost the first one, but that’s crazy.

Really, the artists on the original Star Wars comics never seemed to be able to keep track of the lightsabers to begin with. In the early comics, they paid no heed to the color schemes or hilt designs at all. Not that I would expect late 70′s artists to really worry about props from a movie that had just come out, but they kept coloring all the lightsaber blades at random, and drawing the hilts way too short and thick. Luke and Vader looked like they were holding soda cans. The art started to get more true to the movies when Tom Palmer got involved, but one thing I started to notice was how the artists would draw Luke and Vader’s lightsabers on their belts, even when they were holding them, ignited, in their hands. It was like the artists recognized the lightsaber hilts as part of the characters’ costumes, but they didn’t understand what they were. I can’t really blame them for this, since the big column of light was what really drew everyone’s attention in the theaters, and it wasn’t like they could look up hilt schematics on Wookieepedia like you can now.

Anyway, it struck me as kind of interesting how something minor like that can start off as an oversight, and then be easily corrected, or magnified into a major plot hole. It’d be pretty simple to explain Luke’s between-movie lightsaber.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had a spare tucked away somewhere, and Luke had been keeping it in storage just in case something like this happened.

Yoda had a spare, and Luke took it with him when he went to Bespin, and put it inside R2-D2′s lightsaber compartment for safe keeping.

Luke found a new lightsaber on a mission.

Luke built a new lightsaber to replace his old one, then lost that guy, requiring him to build the green one in ROTJ.

Luke found/constructed a replacement weapon, but it’s actually a knockoff “laser sword” and it doesn’t work as well as a genuine Jedi design, but it got the job done until he could do the job right.

I find it curious that no one ever bothered to tell any of those stories, though. The Expanded Universe era of Star Wars multimedia seemed determined to sew up as many continuity problems as possible. Some writer in the 2000′s did a story to establish that Jedi would swap lightsabers as a gesture of mutual respect, just to explain why Mace Windu’s action figure has a different lightsaber design than the one he has in the movies. I’m not too worried about this stuff, and I don’t think Jo Duffy or David Michelinie were too worried about this stuff when they wrote Luke carving up Stormtroopers in Star Wars #45-80, but between 1994 and 2008, there were people working for Lucasfilm who were paid to worry about this stuff. I’m genuinely surprised that no one ever got around to penning Star Wars: Luke’s Spare Lightsaber: The Lobot Chronicles: Dark Tidings.

It’s the little things like this that get lost in the shuffle, I’ve found. When you read a Star Wars novel or comic book, the major characters are always very consistently portrayed, and the story always sticks very closely to the groundwork laid down in whatever movies were around at the time. Star Wars #45-80 excelled at this. Every issue was either about the good guys searching for Han Solo, or dealing with a crisis big enough to pull them away from the search for Han Solo. I was disappointed that they didn’t spend much time at all having Luke work on his Jedi training, or trying to make sense of Darth Vader being his father, but I think Marvel knew the next movie would address that, so they knew not to wade too deep into that stream.

The stuff that gets changed the most is the minor characters. I read one issue where they basically established that Wedge Antilles never made it off the base on Hoth in ESB. He and “Nice Shot” Jansen had to take cover in the AT-AT Luke blew up, and then they lived in what was left of the base while they waited for the imperials to clear out. He was stranded there for months, and it was a pretty cool story, but I’m betting that later Star Wars writers decided to ignore this, because they wanted to use Wedge in other stories during that period.

General Tagge’s another interesting example. He was the guy on the Death Star in Episode IV, the one who warned that the Death Star was vulnerable while the Rebels had the stolen plans. Tagge’s kind of a walking continuity error to begin with, because everyone kept getting him mixed up with Admiral Motti, the guy who sassed Vader and got choked out for his lack of faith. In the Archie Goodwin run on Star Wars, Tagge was killed in the movie when the Death Star exploded, but his brothers and sister turned up as recurring villains with a grudge against the Rebels and Vader alike. Flash forward to 2015, when Disney took over Lucasfilm, and in the new continuity, Tagge survived the Death Star’s destruction because he happened to leave right before it went to Yavin IV to get blown up. This was done mainly to set him up as a rival to Darth Vader in the 2015 Darth Vader comic. I guess they figured there was no reason to invent new characters when they could just salvage some of the officers from the movie. Tagge feels more authentic than his siblings because we actually saw him on film. He’s a “real” Star Wars guy, while rest of his family are just cartoons. I think that’s the attitude anyway. Back in 1978, they were probably eager to create new characters because they had tons of world-building to do. So the 2010′s Marvel comics don’t square with the 1970′s Marvel comics at all, especially where the Tagges are concerned, but Darth Vader’s dealings with them feel pretty consistent.

The reason I bring up all of this is because I used to think that the continuity in Star Wars was never terribly complicated. When production of The Force Awakens got started, Lucasfilm announced that they were rebooting the whole Star Wars canon, declaring all the Expanded Universe content as “Legends”, which no longer counted as official continuity. The only hard canon sources from now on were the movies, the Clone Wars TV series, and anything published after that announcement. Naturally, all the post-Return-of-the-Jedi stories would be off the board, which only made sense to me, seeing as Force Awakens would contradict it. But I figured the other stories could still be made to fit together somehow, since none of them had anything to do with Rey or Kylo Ren or the First Order, or whatever.

But really, it’s been like that all along. The novels and comics would introduce some idea, and others would build on it, and then George Lucas would override it with his next project. Then the writers would have to pick up the pieces. The 2008-2013 Clone Wars TV series trampled on a lot of continuity from the 2002-2005 Clone Wars books and comics, primarily because George Lucas worked on the TV series, and he was the final word on this stuff. That announcement in 2014 pissed off a lot of Expanded Universe fans (so much that they bought a bunch of billboards to complain about it), but it was kind of inevitable. They’ll probably have to wipe the slate clean again around 2040 or so, because there’ll be enough new movies that the comics and novels won’t align with them.

I sort of half-joke about my own fanfiction getting this kind of treatment. My goal is to write stories that could fit into the established continuity, but I can only work with the continuity I know. With Dragon Ball, that was easy, until Dragon Ball Super got underway, and Akira Toriyama started writing new stuff. It was pretty easy to write my own female Super Saiyan, until DBS introduced a couple of their own, and now I have to wonder if they’ll say or do something that might contradict my own take. Likewise, this Broly movie might establish some new lore that I need to take into consideration. I can write new material to work around those things, but the stuff I’ve already written is pretty much locked in. My private joke is that in any of these new animations, a character will just stare at the screen and coldly announce that “Mike’s fanfic never happened.”

But that’s pretty much what Lucasfilm has been doing to the novel and comics writers for over forty years. “Splinter of the Mind’s Eye” would have been the official sequel to Star Wars if Empire Strikes Back hadn’t been funded. Instead, Dengar and Bossk looked at the screen and said “Alan Dean Foster’s novel never happened.” Return of the Jedi killed every Luke/Leia shipper’s hopes and dreams. “Oh, those fanfics never happened, my young friend,” Ben Kenobi said from beyond the grave. Attack of the Clones wreaked all sorts of havoc on Boba Fett’s backstory. The Force Awakens wrecked the Skywalker-Solo family tree. “Han and Leia only had one kid, and I’m gonna kick his ass!” Rey shouted asskickingly. And on it goes. I read that one writer resigned after they retconned all the stuff she had set up about Boba Fett’s home planet, but that’s the way the game is played, unfortunately.

Me, I’m just writing my stuff for fun, when it comes down to it. I like to think all the continuity can be fit together, but the reality is that there’s too many redundant pieces, so they can’t all be part of the same picture. You can either have Tagge or his brothers, but not both. You can decide to keep Ben Solo or Jan and Jeice Solo from the EU novels, but not both. Or you can do an AU, I guess. They’re all AU’s when you get down to it.

I suppose that, no matter what, I prefer my own assumption that Luke just didn’t have a lightsaber between Empire and Jedi. I’ve read too many stories about how there’s more to a Jedi than his lightsaber, and how the best Jedi never use them at all, so it makes sense to me that Luke had to make due without one, and use the loss to force him to refocus on his training. While the others searched for Han, he was doing cool Jedi homework that he should have been doing on Dagobah, and he purposely waited until he was finished before building a new lightsaber. That just makes too much sense to me, even if some other version is presented. But the other stories are still fun to read. They don’t have to be canon to be enjoyable.

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namariea · 6 years ago

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Hello, Neighbor | VI

Since moving in you have compiled a comprehensive list on your mysterious neighbor across the way.

Do Kyungsoo, otherwise known as Asian Bobby Flay and apparently Bruno Mars’ protégé.

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Words: 2.7 k

Genre: Fluff

Previous: I II III IV V

Pushing open the door to your apartment, you crossed the threshold with a tired sigh.

You had stayed late again after work. Thankfully it was straight-forward and did not require you to make any phone calls to other agencies, but that did not stop you from internally cussing out all of head office with language that would have made a sailor proud.

Two hours of overtime and a 45-minute commute later, you finally returned to your beloved hovel of a sanctuary where you can finally kick back, relax, and forget all of your worr-

Why is my sock wet.

Confused, you fumbled against the wall searching for the switch and once the lights came on, you immediately came to two conclusions.

Conclusion number one: Your right sock was indeed wet.

Conclusion number two: Not only was your sock wet, but your entire main hallway was covered in water.

Fabulous.

Following the stream of water, you ended up squatting in front of your bathroom sink, specifically staring at the cabinet under your sink, where a steady stream of water was flowing from the cracks.

Amazing.

“I’m sorry but maintenance is already out on a call. I’m afraid there won’t be another availability until the morning”

Perfection.

“Is there….anything you can do? Surely there has to be someone who can come in, my apartment is flooding” you stressed, looking at the water with growing concern. You heard the sounds of typing and clicking, then after a few moments of silence the voice came back.

“You can contact a local plumber, however we can only cover the cost of repairs done by our maintenance staff, so you will have to pay it on your own if that is what you choose to do”

You cheap motherfu-

“I’ll figure something out, thank you for your time.” not bothering to wait for a reply on the other line you ended the call, dropping your cell phone onto the counter with a huff.

“What good is a 24-hour maintenance service if you have to wait 9 hours to get help” you groaned as you looked at pot under your sink slowing filling up with water.

Already gone through all of your towels, you were running out of absorbent materials to use, lest you crack open your closet. Sending a scared look to your closet, you picked up your phone once more, unlocking it and beginning your search for local plumbers to call. Just as you were going to press dial on a service that was the closest to your apartment complex you hesitated as you remembered something very important.

Plumbers cost money.

And you had limited money.

Thus, spending money was not really an option.

If only there was a more cost effective, convenient option...

Hmm.

"'Sup, loser."

You blinked as your brother shoved something large and oddly soft into your arms. Looking down, you took in the rounded face of the stuffed animal. You could have sworn you've seen it before. Had you seen this online somewhere?

"Mira and I went to the fair yesterday and she saw this at one of the vendors. She said it reminded her of Mimi, only skinnier" he explained as he walked around you, hauling his utility bag towards the bathroom.

Ah.

Meow.

Following your brother to the bathroom and having him confirm that, yes, he could indeed fix your leaking sink – thank you Baby Jesus - you left him to his devices and made your way to the kitchen to start making dinner. The wonderful thing about the relationship you had with your brother was that the two of you never talked about money. Any favors were always paid back in the form of food.

And nothing says thanks for fixing my sink like five cheese lasagna.

Placing the giant cat plushie on the counter for moral support, you set out on preparing the ingredients. Swaying to the music playing from the speakers you hummed as you worked. You were by no means a good cook, much to your dear mother's dismay. It was just not something you were ever interested in, you were much more interested in the eating rather than the preparing.

However, if living alone has taught you anything it was that starvation was a true possibility and that no matter how loyal of a customer you were to the ramen place down the street they were never going to give you a discount. Therefore it left you with no choice but to begin your amateur cooking career.

Days since kitchen incident: 2

After a close call with the smoke detector and a half-burnt lasagna later, you set to work on putting your culinary masterpiece on the table. Your brother emerged not long after and you both tucked into the Michelin star meal you prepared.

While you ate the two of you caught up about life. Since moving out it was a rarity that the two of you saw each other, so it was nice to finally hang out and talk like you used to. Secretly you were glad that you and your brother grew up to be close, having known people who aren't as friendly with their siblings. You can't even begin to count the number of times he has been there for you, as a shoulder to cry on when the stress of school was getting to you, as an open ear for you to when life was just a pile of turds. He was always around to give advice and encourage you to do your best, even when you didn't think you could. More than your brother, he was your best friend and you didn't know what you would do without his snarky ass on speed dial.

Not like you would ever admit that to him though.

Can't let the man know you're going soft.

“So how is living on your own? Wanting to pack up and move back to mom and dad’s yet?”

“Every day. I consider it every. day.”

“Ahh it can’t be that bad, this is a nice place and it seems like a younger neighborhood, meet any neighbors yet?”

You almost choked on your wine at the question, mind reeling.

“Oh…uh, not really” you coughed, trying to act nonchalant. The last thing you needed was your brother interrogating the poor guy “I’ve just been busy with work and stuff, haven’t really been able to meet any of them yet…” trailing off you began to think about your budding friendship with your neighbor.

Once dinner was done your brother retreated back to the bathroom and you finished cleaning up. As you were putting away the dishes he emerged with a victorious look on his face.

"Well now that that is done," he started, making his way back towards the kitchen, "anything else that requires free labor?"

"Oh hush," you said, sweeping a critical eye across the kitchen "now that I think about it the ice dispenser has been furiously projecting ice cubes whenever I try to use it....but then again, I like how it keeps my reflexes sharp."

"Always on your toes, I like your style."

"Speaking of sharp reflexes, how do you feel about having your ass handed to you at some Mario Kart?"

"Oh, poor child" your brother rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves as he took a seat on your couch, "it's so great that you have dreams, but as your older brother it is my duty to crush them."

With a sleepy yawn, the sound of soft footfalls resonated through the apartment as you entered your kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights. The morning sun was peeking through the slit in the curtains, dimly illuminating the room and providing enough light to accomplish your mission. You busied yourself with preparing a much-needed caffeinated beverage, and a content sigh passed through you once the fragrant aroma started to fill the room.

Equipped with an arsenal to start the day, you walked over to the curtains and slowly pulled them back to reveal two things.

A sleeping cat, and a wall of black curtains.

Taking a long, contemplative sip from your mug, your eyes narrowed on the latter of the two, a frown forming on your face.

You begin to replay the last week in your head, more specifically your interactions with the owner of said closed curtains.

A tired sigh escaped you as you gazed at the rising sun, eyes squinting in silent contempt. You were by no means a morning person, however there was no mistaking that the silence of the morning was a welcome sight, especially since you were about to join the chaos of rush hour.

It was in that moment of contemplation that black curtains were pulled back, revealing a familiar face.

Speaking of welcomed sights.

“Good morning neighbor” taking a sip from your mug, you offered a friendly wave to the man across from you.

He seemed taken aback by your presence, not anticipating you to be standing right there. He was wearing a fitted black sweater, which you immediately concluded looked very nice on him, and you thanked whatever higher power that his hair was unstyled, and instead hung around his face.

He looked like he wanted to say something but was stopped when a white blob jumped up on the windowsill and made itself known. He instead offered you an odd smile, and before you could question the oddity he beat you to it.

“Good morning” with a curt nod in your direction, he then abruptly turned around and disappeared into his apartment, leaving you bewildered in his wake.

That was strange, you thought.

Humming a tune as you walked into the living room, fiddling with your phone as you browsed through the daily headlines.

Tabloids. Tabloids. Conspiracy Theory. Tabloids.

With an uninterested swipe, you began to read about how the moon doesn’t actually exist and is actually a hologram designed by NASA. Riveting stuff. Five paragraphs and a link to the Flat Earthers Association later, a movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. Turning you, saw the silhouette of your neighbour walking past the window come into view.

Catching his eye, you gave him a friendly smile and wave, opening your mouth to greet the man.

Only to have it caught in your throat, as you were given the same curt nod, and then the man scampered away, coat in hand as he swung it on with his back turned to you. He appeared to be in a hurry.

Maybe later, then.

Hopping on one foot, you slipped on your kitten heels, stumbling into your living room and picked up your keys from the coffee table. Jostling them in your hands, out of habit you cast a glance towards the window. No sign of your elusive neighbor.

God, I’m starting to look like a creep

Your shame was short lived, however, when you noticed the dark fabric across the way.

Checking your watch you frowned, however that frown soon turned into panic as you realized you were most definitely going to be late this time.

Shit.

Now, this may be a bit of a reach....and it is totally possible that you are simply imagining things...

But you are almost certain you are being avoided.

To be fair, the main reason you came to this conclusion was due to the fact that you had done the same thing not two weeks ago, but that is not important right now..

It was very much apparent that he was going through some measures to avoid you. It would seem as though subtlety was not his strong suit.

As you were getting ready in your bedroom you would often head the faint sounds of Mimi pawing at the window, followed by a very familiar voice. However, once you pulled back the curtains you were met with closed black curtains and a shifty looking cat.

You needed a second opinion.

"Ghosted. You are being ghosted. "

"Woman, I am not being ghosted, how many times-"

"Well then clearly something happened" Seulgi deadpanned from across the table "did something happen when you guys were talking? Something other than the awkward nerdy sexual tension of course"

"Kim I will end you I swear-"

"Well it's true! If it was going as well as you said it did, you clearly must have said something"

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced around the break room pensively.

The thought did cross your mind more than once, but he was usually just as engaged as you were. At the thought of your neighbour, you could not help the smile that slipped onto your face. Thinking of his melodic voice, how his eye lit up when he laughed and his adorable heart shaped smile-

“Ohnonono, oi cut it out with those googoo eyes” furiously snapping her fingers in front of your face, Seulgi gave you a pointed look.

“You know he could just be busy with work and your worrying over nothing” she pointed out, and you frowed.

“It just seems like it’s something more than that” you said, tilting your head back and staring at the ceiling.

“It just seems like he is going out of his way to not see me, you know? Which makes absolutely no sense, you would think having an hour long debate about pineapple on pizza-”

“Wait, which side were you on?”

“I happen to enjoy a Hawaiian pizza”

“You are the devil incarnate”

“That was more or less his point of view as well. But I think I was this close to bringing him to the light” you said, making a gesture with your fingers, ignoring the scoff from across the table “I was preparing a pretty good pitch, but then my sink decided to do a sick impression of the Bellagio fountains and flooded my bathroom. If it weren’t for my brother fixing it I would have been living in waterworld. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if it ruined the hardwood, cause im broke as shi-”

“Woahwoahwoah hold up” raising a hand, Seulgi looked at you with wide eyes “What did you just say?”

Blinking at your friend, you furrowed your eyebrows “The Bellagio fountains? The ones in Las Vegas? Bruno Mars did a bit where he rode around on a jet ski in it?”

“No not the damn fountains, idiot, before that. You’re brother was over at your apartment?” she asked, and you groaned at her overly eager expression.

“How many times have I told you, my brother if out of your league, Kang-”

“That’s not what I meant. Also, excuse you, I’m a solid 10” she deadpanned, and you snorted “I mean your brother was over at your house. Did he see him? Now hear me out-“ she quickly added, seeing your confused expression change to an exasperated one.

“What if he thought your brother was...yknow” she made a gesture in the air “That would explain so much. He thought you were hanging out with your boyfriend, not knowing it was actually your brother, and then he backs off because he thinks you’re taken and feels like a fool”

The two of you just stared at each other, Seulgi looking like she had discovered the eighth wonder of the world, and you looking like she had grown a second head.

You were the one to break your staring contest, shaking your head in bewilderment.

“And you said I was the lame one for watching soap operas” you muttered

Leaning back in her chair, you could practically see the gears in her head turning, her expression looking more and more determined.

“It literally explains everything though, why didn’t I see this before” suddenly she lets out a loud laugh.

Arms crossed, you watched the cackling woman as she began muttering to herself about ‘being better than TV’. Frowning, you replayed her words in your head over and over, not denying that the timing of it all was coincidental. Still.

“Even if you don’t agree with it, you can't deny the timing of it all is too much of a coincidence” she stated, voicing your exact thoughts.

Taking advantage of your silence she pushed on, “Well there is only one thing that we can do now”

“We?”

“Time to test the theory.”

You immediately regret asking for a second opinion.

#muse: kyungsoo #length: chaptered #kyungsoo imagine #kyungsoo fanfic #d.o kyungsoo #exo fanfiction #exo imagine

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spacenerrrd · 6 years ago

Text

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover: Chapter 5

Sander Sides

Word count: 1,646

Characters: Patton/Creativity, Virgil/Anxiety, Patton/Morality, Logan/Logic

Warnings: Kinda a panic attack, please let me know if I've missed something xox

Summary: Logan runs a library in a small town, allowing him to share his love of books without feeling left out. His business partner and friend Roman helps by running the bright Disney themed cafe that attracts more people to stay for longer. The two clashing but somehow perfect match of a friendship went their days peaceful in their small community until one day a new pair of brother; Patton and Virgil, moved into town and showed the owners a new way of life.

Chapter five: Background

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

~~~

Tap.

Logan's nails were neatly trimmed, looking identical aside from size, which meant the taps sounded almost musical as it went from deep to high pitched. Every time it was the same pattern, tapping quickly beside each other with exactly a second break before the taps started again. He knew his mother would be disappointed, she always thought tapping was as bad as biting nails. But he couldn't help it. It kept him grounding, being able to hear the constant echoing of the surface being disturbed because of him. That he affected something, that he really did do something and wasn't just existing. Learning also did the trick. Getting lost in a book where he could learn about anything and everything made him felt important, especially when it was about space. He didn't like people knowing though. He didn't want them to think he was weird or had a problem. He didn't want to be forced to think that he did it because of his problem like his father told him. This didn't work though, when he couldn't help himself to correct people when they got something wrong or to rant about space for 10 minutes when someone said something as simple as “star”. It made it even more obvious when someone corrected him. He never took criticism well. Especially when he was known as the library owner who can tell you exactly what happens in every single book lined up on the shelves or the tutor who can tell you the first two hundred numbers of pi without a breath. He clutches his hand into a fist and has to physically bite his tongue until it starts to bleed for him to not argue that he was actually right. His world starts to spin and make him sick as he excuses himself to go in the bathroom and sob. He is hardly functional for the rest of the day and he gets no sleep to practice and practice and revise and revise what he got wrong to make sure it never happened again. Roman was the only person around who knew what happens when he got something wrong. He hated people thinking he had something wrong because he didn’t want anyone to think of him as anything different to the knowledge he was. So he tapped his fingers away to keep himself grounded when he couldn’t learn, to not lash out with the emotions he spent so long to keep buried. He tapped away to make sure no one would be able to know anything was wrong, to get rid of his worries through his fingertips, hoping the item being abuse by them would absorb his emotions.

Currently, he was tapping away as he was worried about Lucy. She had come in earlier than usual and went to grab a book that instantly turned Logan’s worries on. With the book Alice In Wonderland in her grasp, she sat down in the farthest corner of the library and hid her face behind it as she started to read. Logan knew that pose. It meant she wasn’t ready to talk about what happened. He couldn’t leave her though. He needed to keep an eye on her, especially when he saw the beaten knuckles holding tightly onto the book and the tears that covered her cheeks when she lowered the book slightly. He was standing there, waiting for the moment where she would put the book down and want someone with her. He needed to make sure he was there for her when it happened. Without knowing it, Logan had taken up a father figure in Lucy’s life and he needed to make sure he protected her at all costs.

“My golly Lo, what did the shelf do to deserve such a harsh beating from your fingers?”

Logan jumped, taking a step back from the shelf. He already could feel the ground leaving his feet as he couldn’t tap anymore. He cleared his throat, making sure no evidence that anything was wrong. “Nothing. I was merely standing here and tapping my fingers. Is there a problem with that?”

“Well of course not! It’s just that you look kinda lost.” Patton’s voice was full of worry and concern, which a friend was suppose to do when your face was becoming more pale by the second as stuff started to spin around you. But Logan just wasn’t use to having a friend yet.

“I, no I’m fine, I just… I need to go to… I got to-” he turned to Lilly but saw Roman already holding her as she seemed way calmer than before.

Wow, you can't even take care of her.

Can you do anything right?

Honestly you should just give up.

“Lo, what’s going on? Can I help?”

“Patton, no, stop!” Logan shouted at him, leaving Patton as well as the other two who heard in the corner as he ran off through the shelves.

Patton stood there, shocked and confused and feeling guilty. He didn’t notice he had started crying until Roman placed a hand on his shoulder and snapped him out of it.

“It’s been a long week for him. It’s not your fault though, I’m sure he’ll tell you soon.” Roman spoke softly, getting a small nod in response. “Come on, we’re going to read some Alice In Wonderland.” Roman walked Patton over to Lucy who was sitting in the bean bag corner. She looked up and gave a soft smile to Patton, it looking a bit strange with the tear stains on her cheek. They all sat down together, the sounds of their breathing and her broken voice reading the sixth chapter of the book calmed them all down.

Roman was doing a final check around the library before closing up. He had sent Lucy and Patton home, of course not before getting a flirt line in with Virgil and was cleaning the stray books from the shelves. Even though he assumed that no one was here, he knew that Logan would somehow find out that he didn’t check and he would rather not get in trouble by an agitated Logan in the morning. The door creaked as he opened it and when the sound of sobs filled his ears he realised that he didn’t see Logan leave earlier. He walked in properly and saw a pair of glasses, smashed like they had been thrown against the wall. He looked across to see Logan collapsed, slouched with puffy red eyes. Streams and streams of tears stained his cheeks and his hair was a mess. It looked like he tried to take off his tie but left it hanging loosely around his neck. “Oh god Logan.” Roman rushed to his side. “Can I touch you?”

Logan nodded, collapsing against him. He seemed almost dead, shallow breathing with tears silently falling. He didn’t reciprocate the hug that Roman gave him, he just needed to embrace the warmth that Roman gave off. Trying to follow Roman’s breathing, his eyes were starting to give into the exhaustion and he fell asleep.

Logan woke up. Feeling exhausted and eyes stinging whenever he tried to open them, he felt around to find himself in his own bed. Confused to how he got there, he picked up his phone to hope that Roman texted him about what happened. His breath got caught in his throat when the time read 3:46. He immediately opened his messages to text yell at Roman until he saw he already have a text from him.

‘dont flip your shit, ive got the library under control’ ‘i told the students you wouldnt be in but theres probably someone you want to explain some stuff 2’ ‘he was really worried’

Logan sighed, laying on his bed and thinking. Patton didn't deserve to be yelled at yesterday. He didn't mean to, he's just never had someone who….cared so much. Roman was the only exception, and he hated how he wanted Patton to know about him and cared. He hated it because he was starting to care for the man in the glasses and grey cardigan and his little brother. Logan groaned and got out of bed, throwing the most, and only, casual clothes he had. Leaving in sweats and a non professional hoodie, by the time he walked he arrived at the library it was already 4:57. Cursing himself for not being efficient with time, he open the door to run straight into someone's chest. “I apologize, I was thinking about- oh.” He looked up to see Patton staring at him with a smile.

“Hey Lo, I was so worried about you yesterday! Virgil knows, I was so scared something bad happened!” Logan looked around to see Virgil trying to hide his flustered face; Roman must've gotten to him again.

“Yes, I....I'm sorry about yesterday. I was wondering if….you wanted to stay after closing so we can….talk and 'hang out’ per say.”

Patton gasped. “I would LOVE that! We can watch movies and eat snacks and I'm sure Virgil will love to spend some more time with Ro!”

“Shut it.”

Logan actually smiled a little bit. “Well, I guess if you'll come in then, we can 'hang’ until it closes so we can, um, watch movies.”

They all sat in the bean bag corner, Mulan being projected against the wall. Roman was whispering stuff to Virgil that either made him giggle or go completely red and try to curl deeper into his hoodie. Logan leant against Patton's shoulder, not needing to reciprocate the side hug that he was given because Patton understood now. “Thank you….for staying.”

Patton smiled down at him. “Why would I leave? I love hanging with you.”

Logan smiled back. “I like hanging with you too.” He put his hand on Patton's leg and started to move his fingers.

Tap.

~~~

Sorry this took so long guys! I’ve been having kinda a hard time but now I’m on holidays so I should be able to get a new chapter (maybe) out soon!!

Next chapter

Tag list amigos:

@deathbyvenusftw @moonlightinwater @princeanxious @roman-is-a-gay @coffeekeyboardsss @ocotopushugs @thepoolofthedead @sanders-sides-things @angered-turtle @gayrobotalien @rebaobsessions @a-ghosts @catsandrandomness @fricksonsticks @v-blue-writer @hanramz-the-fander @your-username-is-unavailable @emphoenixcat @daughterofsomnus @anaveragegayfan @louisthewarlock @saro510-mp4 @6tick6tock6 @nienna14 @fandomsofrandom @notalwaysthevillian @thestoryoferissur @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes @virgil-crofters @thatgaydemigodnerd @ijustreallylovesanderssides @221b-quote @bubblycricket @charlielgbt @why-only-have-one-fandom @jesjessode @thrown-out-pasta

#sorry this took so long guys #but i hope you like this all #sander sides #logan #logic #patton #morality #roman #creativity #virgil #anxiety #thomas #thomas sanders #sander sides fanfic #prinxiety #logicality #don't judge a book by its cover #djabbic

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momentsinsong · 7 years ago

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Moments In Song No. 019 - Victor

“Moments In Song” asks people one simple question, “What are you listening to?” We believe that you can learn a lot about an individual and their experiences based off of the music they love. For every installment we ask someone to make a playlist of 10 songs they’re listening to, whether it be something new they stumbled upon, or a song they’ve always loved, and explain the story behind their choices. The person’s playlist is then uploaded, giving them the chance to share it with others. Each post aims to profile someone from a different walk of life, whether they be an artist, a student, the mailman, a school teacher, an athlete, a nurse, your next-door neighbor, anyone with a love for music; showing that no matter where we come from, what we do, or what we look like, music has the ability to bring us together.

With an ethereal set of songs that accompany his pensive thoughts, pharmacy student and rapper Victor gives us a track by track breakdown of his playlist. We talk his musical influences, Clams Casino productions, and what he thinks is the greatest song of all time.

Listen to Victor’s playlist on Apple Music and Spotify.

Words by Julian | Photos by Tayo

What was thought process behind putting your playlist together?

I just made a playlist of almost all the songs I listen to when I’m in pensive thought or songs that have a cool ethereal mood to them. I’ve always been in tune to that kind of music. That’s why I have two songs from Clams Casino on there. For me, Clams Casino is probably one of the best producers of the past decade. Very influential. His influence spans what most people can even fathom. If I look at his work with Lil B in 2009, 2010, and then look at the type of beats all these rappers are rapping on now, or their style, and how they rap, Clams Casino and Lil B were very influential.

Without Lil B and Clams Casino partnering, Clams Casino doesn’t have the platform that he has today. Then someone like A$AP Rocky probably doesn’t hear him, and so his first two projects don’t have that Clams Casino sound. You look at so many artists that started to blow up in 2010, 2011, A$AP Rocky, Mac Miller, Lil B, they were really coming out with that “drop your top, relax and cruise to music,” and I think Clams Casino is a big part of all of that.

Other songs that I put on my playlist from underground artists like Reva Devito, Thatshymn, Abhi//Dijon, these are artist I listen to when I chill, or when I study. That’s what I’m trying to go for with the playlist. Just a type of sound that you don’t have to necessarily have move to it, you can just sit back, relax, and get into your own zone.

I put my song on there at the end because I thought it helped tie everything on the playlist together.

I was listening to your playlist earlier and I noticed there weren’t any real dance or turn up kind of songs on there. I felt like they all fell into either a boom-bap category, with like eu-IV and Reva Devito, produced by Tek.Lun, the old school Kendrick, and on the other half, that Clams Casino, Abhi//Dijon, Sango, kind of relaxed and melodic category. Did you know from the start that this is the kind of theme you wanted your playlist to encompass?

Yeah absolutely. Even though some of these songs are kind of old, like “Ignorance Is Bliss,” “Realest Alive,” and “Moments In Love,” which is from the 80’s, I listen to them either every day or at least once a week. Especially times when I’m in school, studying, or in the mood to delve into my thoughts.

“Ignorance Is Bliss” is one of Kendrick’s best songs to me. Overly Dedicated does not get the recognition it deserves as a cumulative work. I personally do believe that Overly Dedicated is on the same tier as Section.80 in terms of Kendrick’s bravado and lyricism, because he’s really rapping something serious on that song. I still go back to those to projects a lot. I feel like a lot of the themes on there are universal. There’s no filler on them. You know exactly what you’re getting.

“Moments In Love” is a long song, it’s like 10 minutes long, and that version has always been my favorite. People don’t know how influential The Art Of Noise are, just to music in general. When people listen to Yeezus or My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, or some of the stuff from Michael Jackson’s HIStory album, The Art Of Noise did that stuff back in the 80’s.

I’m not super familiar with them, are they a pop group? Electronic?

They were an experimental band in the 80’s from the U.K. So many things that people are doing today, they did 30 years ago, which is mind blowing. The way “Moments In Love” is structured, you have a lot of different part, a lot of ups and downs, a lot of different breaks. And all of these breaks evoke a different emotion, and plays into the emotions that someone might feel in a relationship. When I was making this playlist, I knew it had to be number one. In my opinion it’s the best song of all time.

Wow, that’s quite the claim.

Honestly. Out of everything that I’ve ever listened to I can’t find anything, at least in my personal opinion, that really…

Evokes that same kind of emotion,

Yeah emotion, the techniques they use for the time era they were in. If you listen to other stuff from the 80’s compared to this, this is just crazy. It’s still even really different compared to music out today. Along with that, its influence that people may or may not know about is amazing.

And then after that I went to “Realest Alive.” Lil B’s version isn’t on any streaming sites, but it’s a great song.

What era of Lil B is that?

That’s 2010 Lil B. So that’s when Lil B was just really starting to get out there. This was back when Lil B would release 5 songs a day. Literally he would release 5 different songs a day, and he would have 4 troll songs, and one song that was great. And he would do that on purpose because when he tries he’s an extremely good rapper. The thing is that he’s a deconstructionist. If you listen to Lil B from 2008/2009 he’s rapping on perfectly on the beat, but towards the end of 2009 he released “Like a Martian” and started doing all his based freestyle, stream of consciousness stuff. So during that time, this would be the 1 out of the 5 songs he’d be serious on. By 2011 he was legitimately a well known phenomenon.

Yeah I feel like around that time he was doing a lot of work with Soulja Boy, and influenced that way he made music after that. And even guys now like Lil Yachty and Lil Uzi, there’s definitely some Lil B DNA in them.

For sure. So from “Realest Alive” it goes to “Ignorance is Bliss,” which has Kendrick rapping about a whole range of different topics. I feel like that streamlines very well into “Numb” by Clams Casino. Now from “Numb” I wanted to lighten up the mood a little bit so I went into songs that are love related. Once you get to “IVyou Pt. 2,” “Rose Gold,” “Therapy” those songs show more of a positive side of what one can feel in a relationship.

You go to “How Do You Love Me” by Xavier Omar and Sango. That song is actually about Xavier Omar asking God, “How could you even love me, even though I am the way I am, even though I am this imperfect being?” I think it segways nicely from “Therapy” because Thatshymn talks about how weed, drinking, and sex can be a form of therapy, but for Xavier Omar he’s talking about how God can be a therapy. For me. I feel like that’s a great contrast, and shows two different forms of love.

And I just finished things with “Stu Pickles.” It’s a good mellow track, talking about relaxing with friends and everyone working together to achieve their goals. For the lyrics I say, “I’m way to blessed to not stress right now,” it’s just me talking about God blessing me to be in the situation I’m in.

I think in our society we take a lot of things for granted. I saw a crazy statistic one time when I was younger. It said if you have a house with electricity, a roof over your head, a bed, and all these other commodities, you’re already richer than 75% of the people in the world. If you think about that it’s crazy. Everyday really is a blessing, and you try your best to fill it out, and find your way to where you need to go.

What songs and artists made you want to start rapping and making your own music?

If I’m thinking about my favorite rappers growing up, Tupac is number one by a mile. Tupac was extremely influential to me. All Eyez On Me, I know that entire double album back and forth because my dad had the OG double CD that was released in 1996. So after Tupac, it’s Nas, all of his stuff. The first album I ever bought with my own money was his Untitled album. That and the Wu-Tang Clan’s 8 Diagrams. Wu-Tang Clan was also very influential to me. Enter the 36 Chambers I know that album so well. ODB was so ahead of his time. You listen to “Brooklyn Zoo” and the way he’s rapping is so crazy, but somehow he’s perfectly in pocket, he’s perfectly on the beat. In order to rap like that is extremely hard. ODB to me is just an extraordinary rapper.

Any final thoughts on your playlist?

It’s a microcosm of me throughout the years. It represents the type of music I listen to when I’m in a pensive mood. It’s “sit down and think” music.

Connect with Victor:

https://twitter.com/viceroy_o

https://www.instagram.com/victorolalekan_/

https://soundcloud.com/victorolalekan

Connect with Moments In Song:

https://www.instagram.com/momentsinsong/

https://twitter.com/moments_in_song

https://tinyurl.com/MISAppleMusic

https://tinyurl.com/MISSpotify

#Moments in Song #what are you listening to #music #hip hop #electronic #alternative #instrumental #pop #art of noise #clams casino #Kendrick Lamar #eu-iv #reva devito #tek.lun #abhi//dijon #thatshymn #sango #xavier omar #vic flair

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