#classic low Se moment

[oiblackestsheep]

ENFJ: *walks into closed screen door* who put this here??

INTP: Uh, I did. So the bugs don’t get in

ENFJ: Well now I’m not gettin’ in either!

[comesatimecomesashadow]

el perdedor *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x latina reader

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot / fluff

cw *ೃ༄ machismo (ew), nothing else !

summary *ೃ༄ shadow's infatuation with your culture.

note *ೃ༄ i kept it pretty low-key because theres so many different cultures within latam mb if i got some things wrong TwT

masterlist *ೃ༄

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ There are many things Shadow finds interesting/endearing about your nature & culture. Speaking for us as a whole, we latinas are usually raised in machista households (and while that may not be a good thing), that means that the women in our culture are raised as caregivers/nurturers. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ For Shadow, this is uncharted territory since he’s only ever known hardship, pain and suffering. So when you opened up the doors of your home to him and allowed him into your life? He was more than nervous about it (though he didn’t show it). He did get used to it and gradually fell in love with the way you treated others and cared for them even if you didn’t know them. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ When you call him pet names in spanish or just code switch between english & spanish, you better believe he’s not listening to anything that’s coming out of your mouth (he’s too busy hearing the way you roll your r’s and stress certain syllables). Shadow (with his big brain) does end up learning Spanish phrases from you (the bad words too) & you better believe that he’s using it in his daily life. 

“Es que mira, vos no entendes que así no se..” It had been about fifteen minutes since you were on the phone with your mom. It was supposed to be a simple call to catch up but somehow it turned into you lecturing her — Not that he was complaining. Shadow looked at you pacing around the living room, listening to every word that came out of your mouth. Even the cuss words sounded pretty coming from your mouth. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Whether it be eating the classic latam struggle meal: huevo con salchicha/chorizo, or eating tamales on christmas, one of his favorite things about your culture is the food. If you give him Baho (nicaraguan girlies wya) or carne con papa (cubanas rise up), he’s eating it all up and asking for seconds. He admires the way that food is typically made to share with others in your culture. There is never a dull moment with him at the kitchen table, that’s for sure. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ When you’re so willing to pet through his quills and hug him close to you, even with others being present, he’s a little nervous about it since he’s not used to others seeing him so completely in love (& accepting of your affection). Sonic would be confused as hell when he witnesses Shadow and you exchanging words in spanish when y’all thought no one was listening. 

“When did you learn spanish??” Sonic asked while you were in the kitchen preparing cups of coffee for the four of you. Shadow only scoffed and crossed his arms. “Hmph. If you must know, I just picked it up.” Now it was Sonic who crossed his arms in disbelief. “Really?” Shadow nodded. “You should hear her on the phone.” 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ At family gatherings, everybody is all over him. I’m talking Tias, Tios, cousins (especially the younger ones), grandparents- hell, everyone wants to know what the hedgehog means to you. You have to usher him away from all of them before they begin interrogating and basically stealing him away from you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He both loves and hates when you pull him onto the dancefloor at parties. He loves it because it’s a rather intimate thing to dance salsa/bachata with you BUT he hates it because he feels like everyone's watching the two of you (which they are). He liked it when you taught him how to dance, frankly you thought he wouldn’t be able to due to his height, but surprisingly enough, when he takes the lead, it makes up for his height — or lack thereof. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He loves watching La Rosa De Guadalupe reruns with you especially the ones with the emo teens. I’m not even going to lie, I can see him totally tearing up at emotional scenes and talking at the TV like he can actually talk to the characters. It’s an amazing thing when you see him absolutely distraught at the romance triangles and the drama in Rosario Tijeras or El Señor de Los Cielos. 

“She was absolutely right in killing that man, I would have done the same.” Shadow nodded in approval with his arms crossed as he watched Rosario off one of her enemies yet again. “Sometimes I think you get too invested in these..” you chuckled a little. “Amor, please.” Shadow only rolled his eyes. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ And of course, our holidays. If you celebrate Dia de Los Muertos, he finds it a sentimental thing to remember loved ones and put things that they liked onto their Ofrendas. When you suggested he put Maria on the Ofrenda, he was a little lost but after participating in it, he appreciated the gesture and the love and care that went into remembering loved ones in your culture. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ He absolutely adores spanish music. From reggaeton, to salsa, to bachata, to rancheras — He loves them all. Especially the duet bachata ones! (they’re the most dramatic ones + he gets to sing them with you so it’s a win win). While Shadow is definitely a closed off hedgehog, he warms up to you and holds your culture to your heart. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's because of that, that he’s also ready to defend you when he sees the machismo in your culture. He dismantles your way of thinking (when it comes to social expectations in your family/culture) and helps you gain confidence in who you are. He never wants to reduce you to an object to be owned or a prize to be won. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ If you’re expected to serve him plates of food at gatherings, he’s coming with you and sticking to you like glue. He loves it when you dote on him, but not when it's forced or expected of you to do so. Overall, he’d be the best lover & I wish he was real.

[veryblushyswitch]

🌲 I can tickle myself?! 2️⃣

Summary: After a long night of clone fights and Wendy plans, Tyrone and Dipper head up to the roof to debrief. However, the two soon make a scientific discovery about clones and touch. 🌲

Switches: Dipper & Tyrone

Author’s Note: Finally got this done my gosh- Hope you all enjoy!! I miss Tyrone so much! 🌲

That was… an interesting night to say the least.

Dipper and Tyrone made their way up to the rooftop hangout spot of the Mystery Shack. The muffled music from the party mixed with the sounds of cicadas and crickets creating a calming white noise. A small breeze created the perfect summer night temperature for chatting with your clone about the nights recent happenings.

Dipper and Tyrone sat on the edge of the roof and swung their legs. Dipper sighed, breaking the awkward silence to talk to himself.

“I can’t believe we blew it.” He hung his head low.

Tyrone brought his hands to his lap, playing with his fingers trying to figure out what to say.

“It’s alright, man. We live and we learn.” Tyrone looked to Dipper, still wearing a frown and hanging his head.

“I mean, you didn’t totally blow it.” Tyrone put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“You made some progress when you just talked to her and didn’t do any of that list stuff.” Dipper recalled the conversation Wendy and Dipper had outside the bathroom.

The moment where two freaks had a small heart to heart. He smiled, but soon frowned again when he thought about Robbie.

“Yeah I guess. I mean do you think we even have a chance with her?” Dipper looked to Tyrone.

“She’s 15, we’re 12, and then there’s Robbie. Stupid skinny-jean wearing jerk.” Dipper and Tyrone simultaneously crossed their arms in frustration.

Tyrone glanced at Dipper again. He didn’t like seeing him beat himself up. At least this time emotionally and not physically like earlier.

“Aww, c’mon, Wendy and Robbie can’t last forever. And who knows, maybe we will get to dance with her one day~” Tyrone elbowed at Dipper’s side in a playful manner. Dipper twitched and found himself snickering at the touch.

“Hehey- knohock it ohohoff!” Tyrone abruptly stopped. Tyrone and Dipper each gasped at the reaction Dipper classic had just emitted.

“Woah…” Tyrone said.

“Did you just?” Dipper stared in disbelief.

“I think I did…”

“I can tickle myself?!” The two said at the same time.

A small blush formed on both of their cheeks. It was no secret that Dipper was ticklish. Extremely ticklish in fact. And you know Mabel takes advantage of that any chance she can. But this, this was a scientific discovery. Just happened to also be a flustering one.

“Mahan, this is crazy! I never even thought about the possibility that one could tickle themselves as a clone.” Dipper exclaimed.

“I know right? I mean, I guess when watching movies about clones you really don’t think of the- AHH!” Tyrone’s arm slammed to his side where a curious Dipper Classic had just poked.

To his surprise and amusement, Tyrone seemed to share his ticklishness even as a paper clone.

“Ha! It works on you too! Interesting.” Dipper excitedly yelled. Tyrone rubbed away the phantom feeling. It was so strange. Yes he was a clone of Dipper who had all of his memories of past tickle fights with Mabel, but since he had only been around for this night, the feeling was somehow both brand new yet nostalgic.

“Yeah, I guess it dohoes- hehehehe! Wahahahait!” Tyrone suddenly giggled when Dipper started rapid fire poking at his sides and ribs. Tyrone backed away from the edge, both in fear of falling and to try and get away from Dipper’s tickling hands.

“Dihihipper! Hahaha! Stahahahap!” Tyrone struggled to stay upright, pulling his legs into his chest to block Dipper’s hands for a moment. That didn’t stop Dipper’s hands from curling into his sides, however.

“No way! This is totally something I gotta test. Plus you so owe me for locking me in a closet earlier.” Tyrone groaned through his giggles. I guess he did try and take over his life-

“Let’s see, do we share the same spots?” Dipper thought out loud moving to squeeze at Tyrone’s knees that were so conveniently positioned right in front of him.

“Ohoho my gohohosh!” Tyrone squealed and kicked his legs. Loud, high pitched giggles filling the night air and causing Dipper to chuckle.

“Seems like we do.” Dipper continued to squeeze and prod. He had to admit, he kind of understood now why Mabel tickled him all the time. His reactions were pretty funny.

While in deep thought, Tyrone took this opportunity to reach out and latch his fingers onto Dipper’s ribs and start scribbling. Dipper barked out a laugh and fell back against the rooftop.

“GAHAHAHA! TIHIYROHONE! NAHAT FAHAHAIR!” Dipper protested. His arms glued against his sides as Tyrone readjusted himself to get a better angle.

“Nohot fair? Dude, you literally just started tickling me right away! Now that’s unfair.” Tyrone playfully shouted before tickling away at his bottom ribs. Dipper shrieked and curled in on himself. Trying his hardest to shield every possible tickle spot they both knew the other could exploit.

“Heh. No wonder Mabel tickles us so much. It’s kinda fun.” Tyrone commented, making Dipper classic blush and shove at his hands when he dug in harder.

“Ohoho my gohohosh ShuhuHUHUT UHUHUP!” Getting teased by yourself was a whole new level of embarrassing. Not only did Tyrone know exactly where to attack, but he knew every thought that could be circulating in his head about the situation. Surely he wouldn’t say more of those things out loud thought right? Right…

“What if Wendy found out we were this ticklish. Oho man, we’d get tickled like all the time.” Tyrone seemed to have a lot more confidence than Dipper- because why the heck would Tyrone say something like that?!

Oh yeah, cause it would make Dipper absolutely melt into the floor as if he were the paper clone who got splashed with water.

“Duhuhude! Ahaha! C’mohohon mahahan!” Dipper switched to covering his now burning face. Tyrone took this opportunity to sneak his fingers up under Dipper’s arms.

“I don’t think we’d mind that much though if she did.” Tyrone smugly chuckled.

Dipper screamed before falling into loud cackles. Thankfully the music from the party was loud too. God forbid someone, *cough cough* Wendy, were to hear him having a tickle fight with himself.

“AHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHA! NOHOHAHAHA!” Dipper thrashed back and forth. Anything to get away from Tyrone’s tickling hands. Unfortunately for him, he only succeeded in trapping Tyrone’s fingers under his arms.

“Oho my gohosh! Is that how loud we get when we laugh?” Tyrone giggled along. Tyrone went to adjust the way he was sitting when Dipper saw an opportunity. He reached his arms out despite the ticklish feeling and latched onto Tyrone’s leg and tickled. More specifically, he scribbled at that dreaded spot behind their knees.

“AHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAP!” Tyrone yanked on his leg, fingers still tickling away under Dipper’s arms.

“YOUHUHU FIHIHIRST! GAHAHAHAHA!” Dipper shrieked. His arms still hugging his sides as much as they could as he continued to tickle Tyrone.

The pair’s laughter filled the woods for minutes on end. Soon the two eventually gave up at the same time, falling back against the roof.

They both took in deep breaths, bodies tingling. As they stared at the stars, they tried not to think too much about the fact that they had just had a tickle fight with themselves. But honestly, it was kinda fun. And both knew it. All in all, a very… interesting night.

~

Bonus Part: 🌲

Dipper’s 3 and 4 found their way back to the Mystery Shack and happened to witness the end of… a tickle fight? They both gasped and blushed like Dipper and Tyrone had earlier.

“I had no idea we could tickle ourselves. Or that we as clones could even be ticklish.” 3 said, unable to look away from the giggling pair. 4 smirked and glanced sideways at 3.

He quickly gave him a scribble to the side and couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face when 3 squealed and slapped his hands over his mouth.

“Hehey!” 3 reached over trying to do the same to 4. 4 swerved out of his reach and latched onto 3’s sides giving him some ticklish squeezes before running to the woods behind them.

“Gehet bahack here!” 3 yelled to 4. The two’s giggling eventually fading into the distance of the woods of Gravity Falls.

[atommadly]

𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐋

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Harry Wells x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | some angst, fluff

𝘖𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘌𝘷𝘦, 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘱, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮?

Masterlist

Christmas Eve at STAR Labs was unusually peaceful. For once, the world seemed to be taking a break—no metas wreaking havoc, no supervillains to thwart. Just a rare, quiet evening for Team Flash.

The lab was decorated in bright, cheerful lights and a slightly mismatched assortment of ornaments. Cisco sat by the main computer, his feet propped up on the desk as he scrolled through a playlist of Christmas classics. As the opening notes of “Jingle Bell Rock” played, he grinned to himself, humming along.

“Guys, this is the Christmas vibe. You’re welcome,” Cisco declared proudly, pointing a finger to emphasize his DJ skills.

Across the room, Caitlin waved a hand over the punch bowl, using just a touch of her Killer Frost abilities to chill the drinks. She looked up with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Frosty-approved beverages.”

Nearby, Barry stood next to Iris, their hands intertwined as they watched the festive scene unfold. Their shared smiles radiated warmth, and for once, it felt like the whole team could breathe.

And then there was Harry—standing awkwardly near the lab’s doorway, arms crossed, a perpetual scowl on his face. He looked out of place amidst all the holiday cheer, like a dark cloud threatening a sunny day. It wasn’t that he hated Christmas, per se, but he had always found the fuss about it… unnecessary. Loud. Messy. A distraction.

Cisco, of course, wasn’t about to let him sulk in peace.

“Harry!” Cisco spun around dramatically, arms wide. “Stop being the Grinch you clearly are and get your scrooge-y butt over here!”

Harry grumbled under his breath—something about “childish nonsense” and “a waste of valuable time”—but it was so low and gravelly that no one could really understand him.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. From where you stood near the center console, you shot Cisco a playful look. “Cisco, leave him alone. Not everyone needs to be in the holiday spirit to appreciate the night.”

Cisco threw his hands up in exaggerated surrender. “Fine, fine! But, mark my words, one day even Harry Wells will admit that Christmas is awesome.”

Harry shot you a sideways glance as you smiled warmly at him—a look that lingered just a beat too long. “It’s a distraction,” he muttered, his voice clipped, though not unkind. “A waste of perfectly good working hours.”

“That’s what you always say,” you teased gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But maybe tonight you could just… try. It’s Christmas Eve, Harry. Even geniuses need a break.”

Harry’s gaze flicked away sharply, as if he were trying to dodge something unspoken between you. He didn’t answer, but you didn’t mind. You’d grown used to his walls—his gruff demeanor, his insistence on pushing everyone away, including you.

And yet, you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered every time he was near. From the moment you met him, you’d been drawn to his brilliance, his strength, and yes, even his rough edges. You understood him more than most people ever tried to, and despite the distance he put between you, you still cared.

“Come on, Harry,” you coaxed lightly. “Just one drink. Maybe some food. Then I promise you can go back to whatever important work you’re pretending to focus on.”

That earned you a quick, unamused glare. “I don’t pretend to work.”

You laughed softly, and for a second—just a second—you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward. But if it had, it was gone in a flash.

Barry picked up a glass and tapped it gently with a spoon, the clear chime ringing through the Cortex. The chatter died down, and all eyes turned to him. Smiling warmly, he lifted his glass, ready to deliver a toast.

“This year hasn’t been easy,” he began, his voice steady but full of emotion. “But no matter what we’ve faced—no matter how hard things got—we overcame it because of this family. Our family. Together, we faced every challenge, and together, we came out stronger.”

You smiled softly, looking around at the faces of your team—your family. Caitlin gave a small nod of agreement, her glass in hand, and Cisco grinned, clearly ready to follow up Barry’s heartfelt words with a joke. For a moment, everything felt perfect.

But then—

The blaring sound of alarms shattered the peace. The Cortex erupted into chaos as red lights flashed overhead. Everyone froze for half a second before panic set in, the festive warmth replaced by sudden dread.

“What the hell is that?” Iris asked urgently, her voice rising over the noise as she turned toward Cisco and Harry, who were both hunched over the computers.

“An energy surge!” Cisco shouted back, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he tried to regain control of the systems. “I don’t know where it’s coming from, but everything’s in overdrive—systems are maxed out! I can’t stop it!”

“Where’s the source?” you asked quickly, stepping closer to Cisco as your heartbeat picked up speed.

Harry’s head shot up, his face unusually pale as realization dawned on him. “It’s coming from my workshop.”

Cisco snapped his gaze toward him, his expression equal parts alarmed and incredulous. “Wait—your workshop? Isn’t that where you’ve been messing with that meta’s helmet? The one who could control emotions?”

Harry clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

Cisco’s voice rose in pitch. “Harry, are you serious? That thing’s unstable!”

“I know that,” Harry snapped, already turning on his heel to sprint toward the workshop. “It’s going to explode!”

He broke into a run.

Without hesitation, you bolted after him, adrenaline pounding through your veins. Cisco’s voice crackled through the intercom as he worked furiously from the Cortex.

“I’ll try to stabilize it from here—no promises!” Cisco called, his voice laced with panic.

“Barry, get everyone out of the building!” Harry’s voice rang down the corridor as he sprinted.

Behind you, you could hear Barry’s faint reply, no doubt zipping into action as he sped Caitlin and Iris to safety.

When you reached Harry’s workshop, the door was already ajar. The moment you stepped inside, the hum of energy was deafening. In the center of the room, on one of Harry’s workbenches, the meta-human’s helmet sat sparking violently, arcs of energy crackling like a miniature storm around it. The metal was glowing a dangerous red, brighter with every passing second.

Harry skidded to a stop, eyes fixed on the device. “Dammit!”

“How do we stop it?” you asked breathlessly, coming up behind him.

Harry’s hands hovered over the workbench, his mind racing through calculations as the energy pulse continued to grow. “We can’t! It’s already too far gone—it’s destabilizing!”

The glow intensified, and you flinched as a spark shot out, narrowly missing Harry’s face. “Then what do we do?” you pressed, trying to keep your voice steady despite the panic clawing at your chest.

Harry turned toward you sharply, his expression grave. “Get back. Now.”

Before you could argue, the helmet gave off an ear-piercing whine, the energy swirling faster like a vortex about to burst. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Get down!” he shouted.

Before you could react, Harry grabbed your arm and shoved you forcefully into the hallway. You stumbled, the air leaving your lungs as you hit the wall just outside the workshop.

“Harry!” you screamed, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of the explosion.

Harry didn’t remember what had happened after the explosion, but when he came to, he found himself standing at the entrance of the Cortex. Confusion clouded his mind as he blinked rapidly, trying to piece together the last thing he could recall. Hadn’t there been an explosion? How was the building still intact?

He took an uncertain step into the room—and froze.

There was Cisco, feet kicked up on the desk, casually scrolling through his playlist. “Guys, this is the Christmas vibe,” Cisco announced proudly, pointing at the speakers just as the opening notes of Jingle Bell Rock began to play.

Harry turned sharply, his gaze landing on Caitlin. She was exactly where she’d been before—using her Killer Frost powers to chill the punch. “Perfect. Frosty-approved beverages,” she said with a satisfied smile.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He’d seen this already. Every movement. Every word.

Wait… hadn’t this happened before?

“What the h…” he murmured, his voice barely audible as dread began to creep in.

“Harry!” Cisco exclaimed, his voice full of that same playful mockery as earlier. “Stop being the Grinch you clearly are and get your scrooge-y butt over here!”

Harry froze again, staring. Those words—he knew them. He knew them exactly. Every syllable, every inflection, as if Cisco were reading from a script.

Before Harry could process it, you glanced up at him, offering the same warm smile he’d seen just moments—no, hours���ago. “Cisco, leave him alone,” you said gently, your tone identical. “Not everyone needs to be in the holiday spirit.”

The exact same words. Down to the pause in your voice.

“Impossible,” Harry whispered under his breath, hands trembling slightly as he looked around the Cortex. It was all the same. Every detail. Every action. He could already predict what would happen next.

You frowned slightly, tilting your head with a concerned look. “Harry? Are you okay?”

He stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he didn’t respond—how could he? He felt like he was drowning, caught in a current he couldn’t explain. Finally, after what felt like forever, he forced himself to nod stiffly.

“Fine,” he muttered hoarsely, though his mind was anything but. Did I dream it? Am I imagining this?

But deep down, a sinking feeling told him that something was very, very wrong.

When the explosion happened again and Harry woke up once more at the entrance of the Cortex—everything unfolding with the exact same movements, the exact same words—he knew without a doubt that something was terribly wrong.

He was stuck in a time loop.

From there, the time loop spiraled. Each one was nearly identical:

Cisco’s teasing.

Your gentle defense of Harry.

The same explosion—no matter what Harry did, the device overloaded.

The first few loops left him frustrated, pacing the lab as he tried to understand the anomaly. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”

By the fourth loop, Harry began to unravel, his voice sharper each time:

“Why is this happening to me?!”

“Don’t you see? We’ve done this before—over and over again!”

“I don’t have time for your jokes, Cisco!”

You were the only one who noticed something was wrong. Cisco brushed it off, teasing Harry about being a Grinch as usual, but the moment Harry snapped at him—his tone sharp, uncharacteristically biting—you knew something was off. Without hesitation, you took his arm and led him away from the Cortex, down one of STAR Labs’ quieter hallways to talk in private.

Harry was tense, his frustration evident in every movement, his shoulders tight as if bracing for an invisible weight. What struck you most, though, was the way he had spoken—at the same time as Cisco and Caitlin, repeating their words with uncanny precision. It wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t Harry’s usual brand of grumpy.

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms as you stopped in front of him. “Tell me everything. What’s going on?”

Harry let out a long, frustrated sigh, dragging a hand roughly through his hair. He looked tired, like someone who hadn’t slept in days—no, weeks. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away, as though avoiding yours would make the conversation disappear.

“Nothing,” he snapped, his voice clipped and cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just have work to do.”

You flinched slightly at his harsh tone, but it wasn’t the first time Harry Wells had tried to push you away. He’d always been guarded, quick to close himself off the moment you got too close. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It stung, like always, to be shut out so forcefully.

Still, you weren’t going to give up. Not this time. You saw the way his hands trembled, the shadows under his eyes. Harry wasn’t fine. And when Harry wasn’t fine, you weren’t fine either. Despite every wall he built, despite the countless times he had pushed you away, you cared about him. Maybe you always had.

“Don’t lie to me, Harry,” you said softly, but firmly. “Something’s bothering you. I can see it. Tell me what it is.”

Harry froze, his gaze locking onto yours for the first time since you pulled him aside. He didn’t speak right away; instead, he just studied you, his blue eyes sharp and searching, as though weighing his options. You didn’t look away, didn’t waver under his scrutiny.

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Harry exhaled, a sound full of exhaustion and resignation. You were the first person to deviate from the script he’d been living over and over again—the only one who had noticed anything was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, you were his chance to fix it.

He gave in. “You wouldn’t believe me,” he muttered.

“Try me,” you replied, unwavering.

Harry hesitated for only a second longer before deciding to risk it. “I’m stuck,” he admitted, his voice low but urgent. “In a loop. A time loop. I’ve been living this day—this exact day—over and over and over again. The explosion, the Cortex, everything. I’ve tried to stop it. I’ve tried to change it. But nothing works.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “And every time, I end up right back here. Back at the start. Watching you all say the same things. Do the same things. Like a goddamn broken record.”

The words came spilling out, a mix of anger, hopelessness, and desperation. He looked at you, waiting for the disbelief to hit—for you to roll your eyes or dismiss him as crazy.

But you didn’t.

You didn’t even hesitate. Instead, you nodded, your expression calm and resolute. “Okay. So what do we do?”

Harry froze, looking at you as if he hadn’t quite heard you right. “Wait… you believe me?”

“Yes, Harry,” you replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “Something’s clearly wrong. I don’t know how, but we’re going to get you out of this loop.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry felt a flicker of hope. But that small victory was short-lived.

The familiar hum of an energy spike began to vibrate through the walls, and before either of you could act, the Cortex alarms blared in warning. Harry paled, cursing under his breath.

“No, no, no—not again.”

The explosion hit, and just like that, everything vanished.

When Harry woke up once more at the entrance of the Cortex, standing at the exact same spot as before, he didn’t hesitate. He knew the routine now—Cisco on the desk, Caitlin chilling drinks, Jingle Bell Rock blasting from the speakers. But this time, he didn’t let it play out.

Without waiting for Cisco’s usual quip, Harry turned on his heel and strode straight to where you were.

“Harry?” you asked, confused as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the hallway with urgency. “What’s going on?”

He stopped only when you were out of earshot of the others, his eyes blazing with frustration. “It’s happening again,” he said quickly. “The loop. I don’t have time to wait for you to notice—I need to tell you everything now.”

You blinked at him, startled by how intense he looked, how tired. “Harry, slow down—what do you mean ‘again’?”

“There’s no time,” he snapped, though his tone was edged more with desperation than anger. “That damn explosion—it’s going to happen. I’ve seen it. Over and over. I need you to trust me, again, and help me stop it before it’s too late.”

You studied him for a moment, the urgency in his voice breaking through your initial confusion. He looked like a man at the edge of his sanity, raw and frayed. And though you didn’t yet fully understand, you trusted him—just as you had before.

“Okay,” you said, placing a steadying hand on his arm. “Tell me everything. What do we do?”

You tried to help Harry, but nothing worked. The loops repeated over and over, and no matter how many times Harry told you everything or how hard you tried to help him, the explosion still happened, resetting everything back to the start.

In the first loop, the two of you tried to reroute the helmet’s energy source. It didn’t work. In the second, you tried to destroy the helmet entirely. The blast still came. By the third loop, Harry’s frustration reached a boiling point. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, and in your concern for him, you tried to get him to talk about what he was feeling.

“Harry, stop. Just stop. You need to calm down—talk to me.”

“Talk to you?!” he snapped harshly, whirling around to glare at you. “How is talking going to solve this? I don’t have time for—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair, too frayed to finish. “Just leave me alone. I’ll handle this.”

He pushed you away again. It stung, even though you were used to him being guarded.

By the fourth loop, Harry was desperate. He was losing faith that anything could be fixed. When you pushed him to talk again, to trust you, his control finally snapped.

“Stop trying to fix me,” he shouted, his voice echoing through the cold halls of STAR Labs. “You don’t understand—you can’t understand! You’re wasting your time!”

The sharpness in his tone felt like a physical blow. For the first time, you couldn’t hide the tears that welled up in your eyes. Harry froze, his anger evaporating as quickly as it had come, replaced by horror at what he’d just done.

“Wait—Y/N, I didn’t…”

But it was too late. The explosion reset the loop.

In the fifth loop, the regret weighed heavy on him. As the events repeated—Cisco’s jokes, Caitlin’s chilling drinks, the music—Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt he’d caused you. He realized how much you had always been there for him, how hard you were fighting for him now, even when he didn’t deserve it.

By the sixth loop, Harry came to a conclusion: there was no solution to the time loop. If he couldn’t stop it, then he would at least stop fighting it. Instead, he decided to use the time to get to know you, to try to make up for all the times he’d pushed you away.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, pulling you aside before the alarms could blare again. His tone was different this time—gentler. “Come with me.”

“To where?” you asked, surprised by his change in demeanor.

He sighed, almost shy. “It doesn’t matter. Just… let’s take a minute.”

In the seventh loop, he offered you a drink, pouring two glasses of Caitlin’s “Frost-approved” punch.

“Harry Wells, drinking punch? Who are you?” you teased, smiling despite the circumstances.

“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbled, though there was a faint smile on his lips.

In the eighth loop, you sat together in a quiet corner of STAR Labs, talking for hours. He listened to you laugh, really listened, as you shared stories about your past, your dreams, your hopes.

“You’re not as much of a Grinch as Cisco thinks,” you teased after a particularly heartfelt moment.

Harry gave a small, genuine chuckle. “Don’t tell him that. I’ve worked hard on my reputation.”

In the ninth loop, he pulled you into a funny dance in the middle of the Cortex. The Christmas lights twinkled softly around you as Jingle Bell Rock played faintly in the background.

“You don’t strike me as a dancer,” you said, trying not to trip over your own feet.

“I’m not,” he admitted gruffly, his hands careful as they held yours. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

With each loop, Harry found himself lowering his walls piece by piece. The more he learned about you, the harder it became to ignore what he was feeling—the realization that he’d been pushing you away not out of indifference, but out of fear.

Fear that he wasn’t enough. Fear that he would mess things up. Fear that he would hurt you.

By the tenth loop, he wasn’t trying to fight the reset anymore. He wasn’t sure what was going to break the cycle, but he knew one thing for certain: you had become his constant.

During yet another loop, Harry had had enough. He was exhausted from reliving the same moments over and over again. He found himself in his workshop, staring at the emotion helmet, the source of all his frustration.

“You okay?” you asked gently, stepping into the room and noticing his slumped posture.

“I’m tired of reliving the same day,” he replied, his voice tight with exhaustion.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused, unable to recall the time loops.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “It’s not important, you won’t remember anyway.” He paused for a moment, before turning to face you. His eyes softened, and a hint of regret crossed his features. “I just… I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for how I treated you. I was afraid I wouldn’t measure up. But the truth is… I love you, Y/N.”

Before you could even respond, he stood up, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you, his lips warm and tender against yours. For a moment, time seemed to stop, his kiss a gentle reminder of everything he had been holding back.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion of the helmet, knowing it was coming. But instead, a strange clicking noise filled the room, and the explosion never came.

His eyes snapped open in disbelief, first meeting yours, then darting over to the helmet. He stared, wide-eyed, as it flickered, no longer threatening to explode.

“I did it…” he whispered, his voice trembling. He had broken the loop. And as the realization dawned on him, he understood that the key to breaking the cycle had always been his emotions, his feelings for you.

You watched him, confused yet elated by his confession and the kiss. “Come on, let’s go celebrate Christmas with the others.”

Harry smiled at you, his heart lighter than it had been in what felt like forever. He took your hand, letting you guide him back to the Cortex. The familiar sounds of Christmas music filled the air as “Jingle Bell Rock” faded into “Last Christmas.”

Happy, Harry joined the festivities, his hand firmly in yours. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was no longer trapped in the loop. Instead, he was free—free to be with you, and finally free to love you as you deserved.

Main Taglist : @gabriella-aesthetic

[jacquelinemerritt]

Queer Media Review: But I’m A Cheerleader (1999)

Originally posted September 16th, 2016

A tonally mismatched, endearing cult classic.

This review is part of a weekly series of pieces on queer and trans media. See them all here!

Jamie Babbit’s1 first feature film, But I’m A Cheerleader, has, in the years following its release, become something of a classic piece of queer representative media. It frequently tops recommendation lists of films about queer people that don’t end in tragedy (lists that are far shorter than they have any right to be), and it is a film I have heard described as “quintessentially lesbian.”

This film’s status as an iconic lesbian film baffles me. Cheerleader is not a bad film, per se, but it is, in almost every way possible, a sleazy teen comedy that attempts to mine humor out of an incredibly traumatic and horrifying scenario (namely, being sent off to a gay conversion camp). That designation isn’t inherently negative; the same can be said of the original American Pie and John Tucker Must Die, and both of those films are entertaining because they revel in just how sleazy they can be. If But I’m A Cheerleader had committed to reveling in the sleaziness of turning the trauma of conversion therapy in a light comedy, then it might have succeeded on those (less than savory terms.

But Cheerleader is caught in between two worlds. At its core, it’s a film that wants to be a down to earth romance about good people finding love in a dark situation, but that core is constantly at odds with the low-brow humor and unintelligent satire that fills nearly every scene. It never attempts to examine the absurdity inherent to its scenario, and the only clear statement it makes about conversion therapy is that it’s ineffective, which is as obvious a statement on the matter as a film could make. The film also has a wildly inconsistent visual language2, frequently switching between bland stationary shots and handheld tracking shots for no apparent reason, only to return to its bland cinematography a moment later.

And yet, despite all of those flaws, I still rather enjoyed watching Cheerleader. Even with all the poorly designed sleaze surrounding it, the emotional core of Cheerleader is damn compelling, presenting us with a slowly budding romance between two highly likable characters.

That solid emotional core is established early-on through Megan (Natasha Lyonne, of Orange is the New Black fame), a very sympathetic protagonist who is confused about her own sexuality. She frequently fantasizes about her fellow cheerleaders while making out with her boyfriend, and she has a picture of a bikini clad woman in her locker, contrasted with her friend whose locker is adorned with a male model. When she’s ambushed by her friends and parents (in one of the few good uses of visual storytelling, I might add), she’s completely blindsided by them, and she quickly submits to their demands that she attend conversion therapy, despite her beliefs that none of the “evidence” presented was abnormal or confirmed her supposed “homosexuality.”

Megan’s cluelessness and empathy make her romance with Graham (Clea DuVall), another attendee at the conversion therapy camp, all the more believable, as their coupling is treated as a subtle slow, burn. We see them holding hands and touching each other, carefully avoiding the watchful gaze of Mary Brown (Cathy Moriarty), the camp’s strict headmistress. There’s a clear understanding of the danger of their budding relationship in the film, as when Graham deflects suspicion off of their rebellion by claiming to have a crush on Joel (Joel Michaely), a gay Jewish man also attending the camp, Megan is never shown to be jealous of the affection he’s receiving (she even takes a chance to stare flirtatiously at Graham while she’s holding hands with Joel).

The film also does challenge one idea, and that’s the idea that gender expression and fulfillment of gender roles are connected to or determinate of sexuality, though it does so with mixed results. Early on, there’s a scene where the characters must all think about and confess what the “root” of their homosexuality is, and one of the men at the camp claims that his mother allowing him to wear her pumps was the single experience in his life that led to his same-gender attraction. The film wants to paint this as the ridiculous connection that it is, but its strength is lost because so many of the film’s jokes rely on the association between gay men and femininity.3

The film is more successful in challenging stereotypes about sexuality and gender when the masculine presenting Jan (Katrina Phillips) storms out of a group therapy session, upset that her love of softball and unconventional looks have led to her attending the camp despite the fact that she has always been fully and exclusively attracted to men. Her rejection of the camp’s attempt to foist femininity onto her rings true thanks to Phillips’ compelling performance and the film’s lack of insistence that masculinity in women is in any way indicative of same-gender attraction (an acknowledgement that is present in the film’s title).

The ending of the film, despite being rather annoyingly cutesy, is fairly compelling as well, setting up a scenario in which one of the members of the lead couple is about to “graduate” from the camp, and the other must fulfill a wish the graduating partner made in order to convince her to run away with her. It’s an incredibly sweet gesture, and their relationship is given a satisfying conclusion, capping off the film with passionate kisses and annoyingly chipper music. That this scene works despite its presentation is a testament to Babbit’s strength as a director (of actors) and Natasha Lyonne’s strength as an actress, as the two of them sell the emotion of the scene that would otherwise be drowned out by a bad pop musical score.

Such a tonally conflicted, endearing scene is arguably the perfect ending to this film.

Rating: 3.5/5

But I’m A Cheerleader can be rented and purchased on iTunes or streamed via Xfinity.

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

1While Babbit hasn’t directed many features of significant acclaim since But I’m A Cheerleader, she has gone on to become a rather prolific TV comedy director, specializing in smaller, character-driven comedies such as Gilmore Girls (for which she directed eighteen episodes), Malcolm in the Middle, and more recently working on hit comedies like Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Silicon Valley (she even directed one of the best episodes of Supergirl’s first season!) All of this to say, she’s got a rather impressive body of work behind her, and it would not be surprising if her name were to show up on a highly successful feature comedy sometime in the near future.

2Bonus points if you caught the reference.

3These jokes are made in spite of the film’s inclusion of Dolph (Dante Basco), a varsity wrestler whose masculinity is never in question, and Larry (Richard Moll), an “ex-ex-gay” who looks like a lumberjack right down to the flannel.

[inkwell-intermission]

13 and 20 :3

13: worst blorboficiation

I don't know honestly, maybe Clover tbh? I see why he's so popular sometimes but at the same time, he has so little canon content. He's not even featured as much or more than like, Eggs and Biscuits. TIDOMS gives him a little more, but I just don't think he's drastically more interesting than the rest of the felt or even most of the Felt. He's just one of the guys I like and I don't like him any more than I do most of the Felt. I also think that is at the expense of more interesting characters that get comparatively ignored. I want to talk about Stitch or Quarters or Matchsticks, their powers are more interesting!

20: part of canon you found tedious or boring

I don't even think this is an unpopular opinion per se, but I think the parts where Slick has Die's doll are relatively of low consequence and tedious. It's classic bullshit, it's fine, and it isn't overly long, but I prefer how time travel was handled in TIDOMS a LOT more, it's more interesting by a long shot! And I imagine that kind of experience isn't unusual for any of the Felt, let alone Crowbar, so the total mundanity of Crowbar running into himself really makes me smile. I like a lot of the rest of the more tedious bits because they make me smile and give me fun character moments, like Deuce and Doze, but the kind of boring way Slick pops places and shoots people is meh. The Die takedown and his thoughts about Snowman are the exemptions

[atplblog]

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[thefillingstation1]

Traditional Sweets with a Modern Twist: Discover the Benefits of Besan Ke Laddoo

In a world where culinary trends are constantly evolving, there’s something comforting about traditional sweets that have been passed down through generations. Among these, Besan ke Laddoo holds a special place in Indian households. This delightful treat, made from roasted chickpea flour (besan), ghee, and sugar, is not only rich in flavor but also offers numerous health benefits. With the growing interest in healthy eating, Besan ke Laddoo is making a comeback, often with a modern twist. In this blog, we’ll explore the benefits of Besan ke Laddoo and how this traditional sweet is being reinvented for today’s palate.

The History and Tradition of Besan ke Laddoo

Before diving into the benefits of Besan ke Laddoo, let’s take a moment to appreciate its rich history. Besan ke Laddoo is a traditional Indian sweet that has been enjoyed for centuries. Originating from the northern regions of India, this sweet is often prepared during festivals, religious ceremonies, and special occasions. Its simple yet satisfying taste has made it a staple in Indian households.

Traditionally, Besan ke Laddoo is made by roasting chickpea flour in ghee until it turns golden brown and releases a nutty aroma. The roasted flour is then mixed with sugar and shaped into small, round laddoos. These laddoos are often garnished with nuts like almonds, pistachios, or cashews, adding a crunchy texture to the soft and melt-in-your-mouth treat.

Nutritional Benefits of Besan ke Laddoo

One of the main reasons Besan ke Laddoo has stood the test of time is its nutritional value. Despite being a sweet treat, Besan ke Laddoo offers several health benefits, making it a guilt-free indulgence when enjoyed in moderation.

High Protein Content: One of the significant benefits of Besan ke Laddoo is its high protein content. Chickpea flour is rich in protein, which is essential for muscle growth, tissue repair, and overall body function. For vegetarians and vegans, Besan ke Laddoo is an excellent source of plant-based protein.

Rich in Fiber: Besan ke Laddoo is also a good source of dietary fiber. Fiber aids in digestion, helps maintain healthy blood sugar levels, and promotes a feeling of fullness, which can prevent overeating. This makes Besan ke Laddoo a great option for those looking to manage their weight.

Low Glycemic Index: The glycemic index (GI) of chickpea flour is relatively low, meaning it doesn’t cause a rapid spike in blood sugar levels. This is particularly beneficial for individuals with diabetes or those looking to maintain steady energy levels throughout the day.

Source of Healthy Fats: Ghee, a key ingredient in Besan ke Laddoo, is a source of healthy fats that are easily digestible and provide sustained energy. Ghee also contains butyrate, a fatty acid that supports gut health and has anti-inflammatory properties.

Vitamins and Minerals: Besan ke Laddoo is rich in essential vitamins and minerals such as iron, magnesium, and folate. These nutrients are vital for maintaining overall health, including immune function, bone health, and the production of red blood cells.

Modern Twists on Traditional Besan ke Laddoo

While the traditional recipe for Besan ke Laddoo is beloved by many, contemporary chefs and home cooks are finding new ways to reinvent this classic sweet. Here are some modern twists on Besan ke Laddoo that not only enhance its flavor but also add additional health benefits.

Sugar Substitutes: One of the most popular modern adaptations of Besan ke Laddoo is the use of natural sweeteners instead of refined sugar. Ingredients like jaggery, honey, or coconut sugar can be used to sweeten the laddoos, making them a healthier option for those looking to reduce their refined sugar intake. Jaggery, in particular, is rich in iron and can help boost hemoglobin levels.

Incorporating Superfoods: Another trend in modern Besan ke Laddoo recipes is the inclusion of superfoods like chia seeds, flaxseeds, or quinoa. These ingredients not only add a nutritional boost but also introduce new textures and flavors to the laddoos. For instance, adding chia seeds provides extra fiber and omega-3 fatty acids, which are beneficial for heart health.

Vegan Variations: For those following a vegan diet, traditional Besan ke Laddoo can be modified by using plant-based oils like coconut oil instead of ghee. Coconut oil adds a subtle flavor and maintains the laddoo’s soft texture. Additionally, coconut oil is known for its medium-chain triglycerides (MCTs), which are easily converted into energy by the body.

Infusing Flavors: To give Besan ke Laddoo a modern twist, try infusing the laddoos with different flavors. Adding ingredients like cardamom, saffron, or even a hint of cocoa powder can elevate the taste profile of the laddoos. Cardamom, in particular, adds a fragrant aroma and has digestive benefits, while saffron is known for its antioxidant properties.

Nut and Seed Mixes: While traditional Besan ke Laddoo often includes a simple garnish of nuts, modern versions can incorporate a variety of nuts and seeds directly into the laddoo mixture. Almonds, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, and sunflower seeds can all be added to enhance the nutritional content and add a satisfying crunch to each bite.

Portion Control and Packaging: In today’s health-conscious world, portion control is key. Modern versions of Besan ke Laddoo are often made smaller, making them perfect for a quick, guilt-free snack. Additionally, these laddoos can be packaged individually or in small boxes, making them an ideal gift or a convenient on-the-go treat.

The Cultural Significance of Besan ke Laddoo

Beyond its nutritional benefits and delicious taste, Besan ke Laddoo holds cultural significance in Indian society. It is often associated with festivals, celebrations, and rituals, making it more than just a sweet treat. Besan ke Laddoo is commonly prepared during Diwali, Raksha Bandhan, and Ganesh Chaturthi, symbolizing joy, prosperity, and the sharing of good fortune.

In many households, the preparation of Besan ke Laddoo is a cherished tradition passed down through generations. The process of roasting the besan, mixing it with ghee, and shaping the laddoos is often done together as a family, creating bonds and memories that last a lifetime.

How to Make Traditional Besan ke Laddoo at Home

If you’re inspired to try making Besan ke Laddoo at home, here’s a simple recipe to get you started:

Ingredients:

1 cup chickpea flour (besan)

1/2 cup ghee

1/2 cup powdered sugar (or jaggery/coconut sugar)

1/4 tsp cardamom powder

2 tbsp chopped nuts (almonds, pistachios, cashews)

Instructions:

Heat the ghee in a heavy-bottomed pan over medium heat.

Add the chickpea flour and roast it, stirring continuously, until it turns golden brown and emits a nutty aroma. This process may take around 10-15 minutes.

Remove the pan from heat and let the mixture cool slightly.

Once slightly cooled, add the powdered sugar and cardamom powder to the roasted flour. Mix well.

Add the chopped nuts and combine until the mixture is uniform.

While the mixture is still warm, take small portions and shape them into round laddoos.

Allow the laddoos to cool completely before storing them in an airtight container.

Conclusion

The benefits of Besan ke Laddoo extend far beyond its delightful taste. This traditional sweet, with its high protein content, fiber, and essential vitamins, offers a nutritious option for those looking to satisfy their sweet tooth without compromising on health. With modern twists that include sugar substitutes, superfoods, and vegan alternatives, Besan ke Laddoo continues to evolve, appealing to a new generation of health-conscious individuals. Whether you enjoy it in its classic form or try a contemporary variation, Besan ke Laddoo remains a beloved treat that combines the best of tradition and modern nutrition.

[drumsxun]

Drumming Up the Energy: A Day at 4th Wall Studios (week 4-8)

After successfully completing the vocal and backing track recordings, it was time to turn our attention to the drums. To ensure we captured the best possible sound, we decided to head to the renowned 4th Wall Studios for the drum recording session.

The Studio Experience

Stepping into 4th Wall Studios was like entering a musician's paradise. The studio was equipped with state-of-the-art equipment and had a vibe that was perfect for recording drums. The large live room provided plenty of space for the drummer to move around and there were a variety of drums to choose from.

Gear Selection

This was the drum kit that we used on that day. we had the choice of either this or the red DW drum kit but we realised that the Yamaha live customs have a much more powerful sound.

Drums: Yamaha Live Custom Hybrid Oak

Sound Characteristics:

Warm and full-bodied: The oak component of the shell contributes to a rich, warm tone.

Powerful and projecting: The maple component adds depth and projection to the sound.

Sensitive and responsive: The drums are highly responsive to the drummer's touch, making them ideal for a wide range of playing styles.

Snare: Gretsch Brooklyn 14x6.5

Sound Characteristics:

Bright and articulate: The Brooklyn 14x6.5 has a crisp, articulate tone that is ideal for cutting through a mix.

Sensitive: The snare is highly responsive to the drummer's touch, allowing for a wide range of dynamics.

Cymbals: ALL MEINL <3

Hi Hats: 14" Pure Alloy Medium Hi Hat

Crashes: 17" Byzance Medium Thin Crash and 18" Byzance Medium Crash

Ride: 21" Byzance Brilliant Serpents Ride Cymbal

Splash: 10" Byzance Dual Splash

MICROPHONES

TOMS: SE V BEAT 1

SNARE: SHURE BETA 57A(TOP), TELEFUNKEN M81-SH(BOT)

KICK: SHURE BETA 52A

OVERHEADS: RODE NT5

ROOM MIC: AKG C451B

HI HAT: SM7B

Toms

SE V BEAT 1: These are dynamic microphones designed specifically for toms. They offer a balanced sound with good sensitivity and rejection of unwanted noise.

Snare

Shure Beta 57A (top): A classic choice for snare drums, the Beta 57A provides a bright, articulate sound with excellent transient response.

Telefunken M81-SH (bottom): This condenser microphone adds depth and warmth to the bottom of the snare, providing a more balanced sound.

Kick

Shure Beta 52A: A go-to microphone for kick drums, the Beta 52A is designed to capture the low-frequency punch and attack of the kick.

Overheads

Rode NT5: These small-diaphragm condenser microphones are popular for overhead recording, offering a detailed and accurate representation of the drum kit's overall sound.

Room Mic

AKG C451B: A large-diaphragm condenser microphone, the C451B is often used as a room mic to capture the ambient sound of the drums and add depth to the recording.

Hi-Hat

SM7B: While not as common for hi-hats, the SM7B can provide a focused and detailed sound, especially for close-miking.

Meet The Drummer: BOM BOM LOW

He has such a deep pocket and his drumming is so thunderous and powerful that it literally sounds *BOMB*. Someone who I really look up to.

The Recording Process

The drum recording process was a meticulous one. We spent time setting up the drum kit, tuning the drums, and selecting the right microphones. Once everything was in place, the drummer began playing. The energy in the studio was palpable as we captured the raw power and dynamics of the drums.

Challenges and Triumphs

As with any recording session, there were challenges to overcome. We had to experiment with different microphone placements to capture the desired sound and ensure that the drums didn't bleed into other tracks. However, through careful planning and experimentation, we were able to achieve a fantastic drum sound.

Reflections

As a drummer myself, I am intrigued by how Bom was able to record a perfect take the moment they started the first take and how tight he was with the click track. My role as an intern in this session was mainly to assist in setting up the drums and placing the right microphones at the respective drums and tearing down after the session but I have learned so much from just seeing how the directors work and the professionals just show up and made things work somehow.

[julianerui]

When I refer to songs I’ve liked, they are not the soundtrack of my life. I first heard music as a child, like every child, in the humming of my parents. My father used to sing “Kråkevisa”, a song that is intriguing, but also sad, because a crow is killed. But every part of it is used, because the crow is so big that its beak becomes a boat. The moral is: When you kill other animals, it has to be for a reason.

When I sang this same song to my child, he refused to listen to it, he got angry, and he said “it was the crow that killed the man”. Since we humans made up the song, we should have it back, he meant. Another lullaby I loved, Blåmann bukken min, is about a boy that waits for his goat to come back from the forest. It’s evening and he remembers everything he loves about the goat. This song my son also refused to listen to, he said it was the same verse over and over again. Only sadness. I made a poem out of this in Snurr mi eng. 

I listened to children’s songs, pop music, musicals, classical music and everything from early on. But I fell in love with music in a new way, or found my older self in it, when I was 16 and listened to Tori Amos. The first song I heard of her was “Jackie’s Strength”. It was an aha moment, “wow, this is poetry”. 

My favorite album was her first, Little Earthquakes, with a mix of angry songs and sore songs, like “Winter”, and the grand finale, Little Earthquakes. I’ve always loved the piano on that song, even more on the live version, where she plays like she will never stop, and her voice almost cracks several times, and reaches high and low, “doesn’t take much to rip us into pieces”. Many of her songs have a wildness in them. I saw a parody of her one time, and from then on I knew that all good artists can be made fun of. This includes poets. 

Tor Amos’ father was a priest. My father is not, but my grandfather was. He also loved poetry. I looked in some old parish magazines where he was a chaplain before he was a parish priest. And I found he wrote about why it was important to come to church, in sum: It is better for every part of your life from here on to eternity. He could be really stern, writes about fearing the lord and loving him in the same sentence. I can’t remember that my grandparents tried to convince us to be religious. But this was around 1970, before my time, and in the role of a priest, not a grandfather. Also, I found something which I’ve titled “Presten følger med”: 

“Om å slakte gris. På den korte tiden jeg har vært her, har jeg opplevd det triste syn å se folk slakte gris på blanke søndag formiddag. På vei til gudstjenestene har jeg opplevd dette tre ganger. Det er en skam for bygden vår. Selv om folk ikke har respekt for guds bud, men tvertimot viser en suveren forakt for det, så bør man kunne forlange at man viser naboene såpass respekt at man lar griseslaktingen være på en søndag. Det gjelder forøvrig bråtebrenning og alt annet unødvendig søndagsarbeid.” 

This is kind of funny, the admonishing tone, but also sad, because to slaughter a pig, it must have looked awful? Did it scream? I don’t know. This was another time, I’ve never seen that. I know my grandfather was liked as a priest, and even seen as liberal, which at that time meant things like he would let people marry although this was not their first marriage. Had he lived now, maybe he wouldn’t even be a Christian. Everything is so bound to time and place and the story of the society you grow up in.

[wjddhdmlepdlxm23]

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

정오의데이트 어플 후기 채팅 만남 사이트 앱 리

Originally, he is not a very good defensive player by objective standards, but in the national team, where the 2nd line is overflowing but the 3rd line is poor, there is no midfielder other than Hwang In-beom who can play a box-to-box role that can show vigorous activity and participation in defense. He is emerging as a box-to-box central midfielder in the third line. However, in this position, the weakness of the game due to physical and physical problems, especially the pass miss, is being criticized more and more.

This is a matter of his own ability, but it is somewhat unfair, and if he is left out, the problem of the national team's participation in defense becomes very serious. Lee Jae-seong has good activity and defensive ability, but his main job is a side attack and second-line offensive midfielder, and Lee Kang-in is a fairly classic attack type, so his defense is even worse. At least, Ju Se-jong is better at distributing the ball, but his defense power is also followed by a question mark, and Baek Seung-ho is on the third line in his team, but he is still immature in terms of positioning and experience when defending, so it is uneasy to trust and entrust him to the national team. . After Ki Sung-yong's retirement and Jang Hyeon-soo's exit in 2019, the national team's third-line professional midfielder is Jung Woo-young. Jung Woo-young has excellent defense and plays well when the opponent's pressure is weak or almost absent, but his feet are slow, so the coverage is narrow and the opponent's pressure is low. When this gets stronger, the build-up becomes unstable, making it too vulnerable to the opponent's pressure. Because of this, Hwang In-beom, who is actively participating in the defense, has no choice but to relieve the pressure by taking on the box-to-box role.[19]

Wearing clothes that don't fit you can cause a drop in form, and due to the nature of domestic soccer fans, the box-to-box type tends to be undervalued compared to players who are good at passing and kicking, and get criticized for their size. The older midfielder is essential for a stable midfield.[20][21] It is because it can energize the team with the cover of empty space and the amount of activity. This is the reason why Bento cannot easily serve Hwang In-beom, but nevertheless, his skills in this role are not too good, so the player himself is in a very dangerous situation at the moment.

In the East Asian Cup, I played in the second line Mezzala instead of the third line box-to-buck, and my performance has definitely improved. There were still some pass misses, but other indicators such as pass success rate and shooting improved significantly. It was a tournament that showed that the role Hwang In-beom is playing in the current national team is not the best for him, and it was a tournament that showed that no matter how active he is and how good he is in defense, he has to use it aggressively to show his true worth. In fact, the problem of using Hwang In-beom is the problem of the national team squad itself, as mentioned above. The second-line resources and aggressive midfielders are overflowing, but the defensive midfielder who protects the four-back in the third line, shows vigorous activity, or takes care of the build-up is currently [22]

If you look at the play in the Russian league, it also shows that the offensive role is more suitable. Even though the level of the Russian league is not low, after joining the ball game, he quickly became the main player and accumulated attack points and is active. In any case, the sluggishness at Bentu seems to be the result of wearing clothes that do not fit well due to various circumstances.[23]

[kiachiako]

before your eyes | j.jh

pairing | jaehyun x female!reader

synopsis | being the new muse to a mysterious artist was never on your winter agenda, but chance encounters might be your new favorite thing.

content | artist!jaehyun, au, fluff

wc | 1.7k

song | pink + white — frank ocean

a/n | first post :)) v self indulgent

…

— December 20.

Art makes people feel things.

You stand stoic in front of a glaring canvas, your hand swirling a blood-red wine as your mouth twitches from its bitter taste.

There are few things that truly make you feel.

You stare at the painting in front of you with an expressionless mien, eyes trained on the intricate scene unveiled before you as you raises your glass once more.

In reality, the piece makes you unsettled in a way that you've never experienced before. Your surroundings become too crisp, too saturated, too lonely. The low chatter of the exhibition opening grows abnormally piercing, and you can feel the heartbeat in your ears and the organs within your ribcage. It's as if you're discovering a new emotion for the first time, your mind withering under the pointed gazes of acrylic figures.

Your wine tremors in its vessel.

Before you can turn away — you feel as if you'll be physically drained of your consciousness if you stand before such a gut-wrenching piece any longer — a figure steps up quietly beside you. You glance at him, eyes lingering on the side of his face a bit longer than intended as his view stays trained on the art before them.

"It's quite captivating, isn't it," he starts, startling you for a moment before nodding to the painting. He still doesn't look at you.

You give a small hum in agreement, hesitant about how to reply to this stranger. It isn't everyday that another decides to approach you so unprompted, let alone one with a gaze that seems to pull people in with unwavering confidence.

"What do you think the artist is trying to express?" he whispers, tilting his head towards you as if keeping a horrid secret from the rest of the gallery viewers. You hesitate slightly before replying.

"I think... I think they're trying to convey the tragedy of life itself," you say hesitantly, the man next to raising his eyebrows slightly at your word choice. "Or rather, the tragedy that is one's inner child. It's like the artist is trying to show a person's true form, especially through the painting's illusions and how they're employed. The mirror on the side? It's like," you gulp as you glance across the painting's aesthetic order once again, "the reflection represents the feeling of being emotionally and physically unattached, especially because the viewer can see images portrayed outside the figures' view in the mirror."

The man remains silent.

It's a long, awkward silence, although the smalltalk and stifled hum of classical music trapses on in the background. You watch with intrigue as he pulls a thin sticky note and gold-plated pen out of his suit jacket's pocket. Using his palm as a flat surface, he slowly spells out a short message on the paper before handing it to you.

Your eyes scan over its contents:

Stranger —

I've been looking for a "muse," per se.

I find you interesting. I have a feeling that we could help each other.

Up for it?

Café Fledermaus, 1048 5th Avenue. DEC 23rd, 3pm.

— J.

You mull over its words, head clouded in confusion.

Muse? For what? Isn't it dangerous to meet with strangers?

But every friend starts as a stranger. Maybe just this once...

As you stand frozen, the man next to you observes the small description plaque next to the painting in front of him; a small smile graces his face as he scans over his own name.

You look up to question him, but there's no man beside you anymore.

Just like that, he's gone.

— December 23.

Curiosity is an awful thing.

It's 2:42 pm on a misty, dark Sunday afternoon, and you hover in the foyer of your apartment with your shoes dangling precariously between your fingers; the shining Mary Janes define the line between said curiosity and the growing urge to run back to bed and binge old Wes Anderson films.

Your studio roommate urges you to go with a push, pointed to the front door with frustration.

"Trust me. I haven't seen you talk to a single new person in like, what, 3 months?" the exasperated girl asks, waving her hands around in emphasis. "I know you don't like the process of getting to know people — it took two years for you to even tell me where your hometown is — but meeting a stranger in a crowded café can't be that bad. Just go for it, you've literally got nothing to lose."

With hesitancy in your every movement, you takes your roommate's words to heart and offer a shaky smile, reaching for the doorknob before a change of mind occurs.

Just do it. He wants you as a muse? Do it.

Before the devil on your shoulder can stop you, you force yourself outside. The harsh breeze nips at your skin and swirls around your purse, picking up your hair in the wade. You tighten your scarf with the chill as you walk away from your brownstone.

At exactly five past three, you're hit with the strong aroma of French espresso and golden warmth as you step inside the timely café. Your eyes scan the gold sprinkled room in search of a not-so-familiar face.

You catch sight of him a minute later, his gaze trained out the third floor window into bustling 5th Avenue. He looks as if he were a wax figure encapsulating the 1900s in modern form, complete with tussled hair and a tweed suit jacket thrown over his shoulders. His lips are stained crimson, the culprit being a cherry lollipop situated between his pointer and middle finger.

You make your way past busy waiters and parting guests, fur coats and newspaper boy hats joining you in their flurrying journey across the shop.

The man who's called you here glances up as you slide into the seat across from him, swirling his lollipop in black coffee until the candied stick is drenched in caffeine.

"So," he starts, leaning forward in his seat and taking a sip of the inky liquid, "you came."

You nod slowly.

Noting your silence, the man continues.

"I'm just going to get straight to the point. I'm an artist — type not relevant — and my creative fund has been spent to its demise. I need inspiration in the form of my favorite subject: human nature." He grins, pointing his lollipop at you. "And you, dear, are the perfect candidate."

You stare at him.

"I can see that you're not much of a talker either, but we can work around that," he offers, clapping his hands together. "I want an acquaintanceship in which we don't have to tell each other anything. Hell, you can even lie to me about yourself if you really want to."

You perk up at that sentence.

"Nothing personal?" You speak up for the first time to him.

"Nothing personal," he confirms. "I'll do it too."

"So I just... no name? Or do I lie about that as well? I'm a bit confused."

He smiles before looking down.

"It's better for us to be dishonest with each other," the man replies. "I don't like attachment."

Ouch...

...wait.

Isn't that a good thing?

You scold yourself mentally as you looks out of the window. This is the most ideal "friendship" that could exist for your personality, yet something in you hesitates to agree to his proposition face to face. Sure, you could be the inspiration for an artist — and that in itself is utterly fascinating — and you could utilize these interactions for your own good, but in the long term, wouldn't this be detrimental to your own mentality?

After a few seconds of pure silence, you decide that you're willing to take that risk and find out.

"I'll do it," you say finally, looking back at him.

The man across from you lets a brilliant grin overtake his face, holding out his hand for you to shake. You return it with a smile of your own, your figures leaning over the coffee table in tandem.

It's only as the two of you stand outside the café and brave the cold, a cigarette clamped tightly between his almost-blue fingers, does he ask for your name. He turns to you again as you stare out into the cracked cement streets of the city, your clutch held tensely in front of you.

"You don't have to tell me the truth," he starts, blowing out a ring of smoke, "but what should I call you?"

You realize only then that you've never properly addressed each other in your two times of meeting. Contemplating whether to tell him your real name or not, you decide on the former. After all, if you're going to lie a hell of a lot from here on, at least there will be one truth in your relationship.

"Y/N," you say softly. "You can call me Y/N."

"Well, Y/N. You," the man replies, "you can call me Jae."

— March 22.

"I told you already. I'm the daughter of a gallery curator," you laugh out, recognizing that the man next to you always nods incredulously at what you says - even if it's the cold, hard truth. You've somehow found a way to forge a deeper connection than what both of you intended. Both of your eyes shine differently now when you tell a fib to each other, a glimmer that you've been taught to recognize through shared, magical stories and fantastical adventures; they all lead to one laying on the ground in laughter and stitches or a playful shove to the arm ("Pirates? Now you're just pushing it, Jae! I'll let you go just this once," you said when the two of you had found yourselves on a small cargo ship headed away from the coast, accidentally of course).

So now, as the two of you sit on a blanket overlooking the sunset from a hidden hiking trail, you can only find joy in each other's company without the stress of other things in your lives weighing you down. You can get out of your head for a bit, picking daisies from the grass as Jae paints on your left arm with gleaming white paint. There's no baggage weighing you down, not when you have each other to tell your problems to without the consequence of consequences.

Whatever this man had seen in you in the gallery was a strange twist of nature; it could have gone terribly wrong or stunningly right like all little chances in life.

But of course, no one will know unless they try, right?

...

xoxo

2022 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.

[cipheramnesia]

Hiii beautiful Cipher!

Recently we were able to watch Nope and absolutely loved it!! Her at home we have a couple of roommates who are not really into horror but Nope worked for them as it is a horror that feels like a western/sci-fi.

So we come to you asking for recommendations on horror movies that work that way.

Nope is kind of a tough act to follow, because it's one of those movies that hits on all levels - story, subtext, character, plot, cinematography. You name it, and Nope knocked it out of the park. So, tempered expectations, there's nothing else which will hit quite the same, I think.

Two movies I think are quite good and complimentary are Prey and Tremors. Tremors in particular comes pretty close to the same scifi western monster movie vibe of Nope, including a pretty similar pace and similar plot beats. While it doesn't quite aim as high as Nope, it's a classic of the horror genre for a good reason, and a whole lot of fun. It leans more into humor, although it's firmly a horror movie. If you or your friends somehow never heard of it, and you don't have "hard out" triggers, my advice is go in fully blind because much like Nope it has a lot of enjoyable twists. Some triggers I'd add would be animal death (sheep), fear of heights, child in danger, and obviously fear of earthquakes or similar.

Prey was all over Tumblr so I don't think I need to add a whole lot. It's one of the movies in the Predator series, and easily one of the best. The original Predator could also work to compliment Nope, but I think Prey fits it better. Watch it in the Comanche dub obviously. It's more of a departure from being directly a Western movie but syncs up enough to fit the vibe and it's likely to find a similar positive reception with anyone who enjoyed Nope thanks to the way it balances character, story, and action while using a deft but light touch with the horror element. This is one that's not really much for twists and turns so ahead and go nuts at doesthedogdie.com if you wanna.

A few others that mash-up horror, science fiction, and western movie tropes or themes, but which don't compliment Nope as well, are Pitch Black, Turbo Kid, and Prisoners Of The Ghostland. Pitch Black is from back in Vin Diesel's early days, and feels like something right in between Aliens and Firefly. It's a low stakes, mid-budget monster movie that doesn't reinvent anything but makes for a fun ride. Turbo Kid is a retro 80s movie more than western per se, which imho leans too hard on the style and not enough on the characters, but it's full of weird mechanical devices and showdowns and standoffs. Prisoners of the Ghostland is something fully different than Nope, but it mashes up the western and samurai genres along with post apocalypse themes and an overall dreamy surrealism that puts it more in line with Mad God. But it sure is scifi western horror, kind of. Content warning: Nicholas Cage.

If we get a little further outside the western area, there's definitely some other films that are a good follow up for Nope. Immediately to mind is the spectacular scifi horror movie Attack the Block. It's another great movie to in blind on if you can, not so much for specific plot twists, as purely the story unfolding is so good and so fun that getting to enjoy it unspoiled is deeply satisfying. It's a fantastic bit of humans versus aliens that illustrates how to masterfully take a very conventional story and tell it in a way so unique that it feels new each time you watch it.

Related and tangential to the western movie is the apocalypse road trip movie, aka the Mad Max genre. One of my favorites is the little seen 80s movie but released in the 90s Highway To Hell. It's a curious bit of film with some bits that aged poorly, but for the most part it's surprisingly smart and chock full of iconic moments, including racing the devil for a soul. More recently I would suggest the Wyrmwood movies (Road of the Dead and Apocalypse), as absolutely balls out zombie movies like nothing you've seen, unless you like Z Nation, but even then they're still unique. In particular Wyrmwood Apocalypse has some of the western movie vibes, but it's uniquely bizarre in execution.

Lastly I wanna give a shout-out to Red Hill, which is not science fiction or horror, but is a banger of a modern day western movie, particularly with how it tricks the viewer into the idea that it's heading one way and then, well... something quite a bit else.

[lunatic-flores]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒈𝒆.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 : 𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑎 accept her fate and fall in love with her pretending husband after the marriage.

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

(Y/N) sat next to isabela, minding his own business, sells his paintings, paint more and more for the town's order, completely out of the conversation until his name was being called by the elders.

(Y/N) jumped when he heard his name being called, making him hum and turn to abuela. “Si? I apologize, i was thinking about my work, what were you talking about Abuela?”

“Children.” Abuela answered calmly, making (Y/N) choke on his drink. “Pardon?” he asked while clearing his throat. “I uh— it's too soon, isn't it? i mean, me and Isabela just got married seven months ago.”

He fidget his finger as he tried to keep his composure, not wanting to let the family down. Abuela sighs exhaustedly, “Nonsense, this family need to grow more and more. To create more generous generations, it is already your job to think about you and Isabela's future. This family's future.” Abuela said making him low his head in shame.

“Right.” he mumbled, not notice that Isabela hold his hand and squeeze it gently. The conversation started to continue again and again about their time to create a little family.

(Y/N) couldn't help but despised it so much, is this how Isabela felt before she can be this free? It felt trapped inside it's own cage. Not wanting to leave but also want to se itself free.

“We'll talk about this again tomorrow dinner. Everyone can dismiss.” (Y/N) immediately stood up and go to their room, conpletely leaving Isabela who's watching his back slowly dissapear from her.

“ay (Y/N) ... ”

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

“Tomorrow, Mr. Northflower will be taking his paintings from the front sides and then Mrs. Larita would like me to paint her eight childrens in two days, i must finish these before—”

(Y/N) kept mumbling, not noticing that his wife is now standing behind him with worried, “(Y/N),” she called him loud enough making him jumped from his sit. “Dios mio, Isabela! You scared me.” he put his brush back and turned to Isabela.

“What is it? Is it about Abuela talking about that we have to—” Isabela quickly waved her hands in embarassement, “N-no, not that you idiot! Have you forgot that this marriage is only as our status? We just have to pretend, you know.”

“Right, right. Status. Pretend couples.” (Y/N) pinch his temples not wanting feel another incoming stress. Isabela soften her gaze as she inspect her husband feature again.

Messy hair, stressed face, tired eyes, empty soul. He's really change since the wedding. He tried to busy himself, not wanting to keep thinking about what should he do next, after pretending.

His mind is a complete mess, he's now restless, papers scatered everywhere. His paints has dropped here and there, making him slipped sometimes. Isabela shake her head as she cup his face carefully, “You're very tired, go get some sleep. It's already late—”

“I can't. I have to finish these paintings, they want to—” “Screw the paintings, i'll finish it for you. You've been working your body and mind for twenty four hours without sleep!” Isabela exclaimed making him flinched and nodded his head.

“Just give me the list, and i'll finish everything.” (Y/N) stare at her for a moment and motice that she still wear the ring. Maybe she doesn't what her Abuela asking her why don't she wear the ring.

“What about you?” (Y/N) asked, a frown started to visible on his face. “I've got nothing to do. And i'm not sleepy yet, now shoo shoo.” Isabela make him lay down on their bed and began to focused on the black canvas.

“Hey, Isabela?” (Y/N) called before sleep, “Yes?” she replies while focusing to draw the sketch first, “Thanks.” with that, he closed his heavy eyes, leaving Isabela shake her head.

“Classic-stupid (Y/N). My stupid (Y/N).”

When isabela finished the paintings quickly and everything was perfect, she began to clean the mess out of their room and make sure to put (Y/N)'s orders in his bag, she wipes her forehead and decide to change her clothes.

Before she completely changed, (Y/N) suddenly woke up from his sleep remember that he's going to do his night routine. Their eyes meet together before (Y/N)'s shift to her half body—

He slapped himself and decided not to do his night routine, “Wha—”

“I'm sorry.” He mutters, enough for Isabela to heard him, when he tried to closed his eyes, Isabela's posture— making him sweating. He hated himself, until he felt someone kissing his forehead.

“Goodnight (Y/N), sleep well.” with that, Isabela lay herself on the bed too and drowned into her sweetest dream that (Y/N) will never know.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

The next day, (Y/N) is really grateful that he can go home earlier than usual, thanks to Isabela who helped him with those bunch of paintings he's going to sell to the town.

He washed his hands from the various color that tainted his hands, he stare at it for a moment and then remembered his wedding ring. He doesn't know why, but when he notice he haven't wear it for seven months after the wedding day.

His panic starts to rise as he quickly ran to casita, he almost bumped into his mother-in-law “Oh! G'evening Señora Julieta!” “(Y/N), Call me Mamá!” and then he goes to his shared room with Isabela. Trying to search the tiny box he had thrown somewhere.

He couldn't find it anywhere, until he found it on Isabela's desk that decorated with unique and beautiful flowers. He take the tiny box and open it, he sighs in relief when he founf the ring is still there.

(Y/N) slip the ring on his finger and inspect it for a moment, he admits that marriage life is kind of rough for the two of them. But he's very grateful Isabela is really reliable towards him. Maybe marrying Isabela isn't so bad.

He widen his eyes as he realized about his feelings towards her, “No, no, no. Just as a status; nothing more, nothing less.” he mutters quitely as he ruffle his hair.

Before he wants to change his clothes, (Y/N) found a single paper on Isabela's desk. Being the curious one since he was little, (Y/N) take the paper and turn it around to read it.

Again, he widen his eyes when he found a divorce paper. His heart dropped at the titled as he read through the single page. Fortunately, it hasn't sign by Isabela. (Y/N) starts to frown as he put the divorce paper back, and began to thought about what happened when he was asleep.

Did Isabela talked to her family that she's just pretending with (Y/N) and decide to let go? If she did, why didn't she tell him? Did Isabela wanted more space? Is she not comfortable with him?

So many questions filled his head as he didn't notice that Isabela is standing behind him again, she tap his shoulder, “(Y/N)? You're back earlier than usual, is something wrong?” the painter jumped at her sudden presence as he turn around and face Isabela.

“Oh— uh, yeah. Thanks to you, i can go back earlier. So, uh— what's this?”

(Y/N) showed her the divorce paper he found, “I found it next to the ring box, are you going to open up completely to your family?” for the first time, he felt selfish. He doesn't want to let her go that easily, but he had to respect her decision.

Isabela frowned at the divorce paper, “(Y/N), can't you see that divorce paper is ... Fake?” she asked him, (Y/N) raises his eyebrows as he read it again. He sees a fake mark on top of the paper, he felt embarrased.

“I swear, if it's some kind of a prank from one of those men, i will throw my cacti.” Isabela take the paper from her husband and throw it out through the window. She saw her husband sighs in relief and wear the ring again.

Something inside her also felt relief, knowing that atleast (Y/N) wear the ring from her again. “i'm glad you wear that ring again.” she spoke as she sat on their bed. “yeah, i'm afraid that i'm going lost it. It's precious just like the person who gave it to me.” (Y/N) teased her once and making her a flustered mess.

“Oh shut up.” Isabela beamed at her husband, she really loved the idea to call him as hers. Though, the agreement about only as a status is also a cursed for her. It's like she's not allowed to loved him a little bit. Little did she know, (Y/N) already burned the letter down far from encanto.

“Is it okay if i have feelings for you?” (Y/N) asked out of nowhere, making Isabela froze on her position, “i— well, i think it's fine since we are ... Married?” Isabela wasn't sure how to respond just like the day where she asked him the same question.

(Y/N) nodded his head and began to take his new clothes, after that, he accidently found an old crumbled paper. Still, he thought it was a trash, but his hands betrayed himself as he read the scribbled lines.

Dear (Y/N),

I just wanted to say how grateful i am to have you, even as my pretending husband. I couldn't help but fall in love with you.

I hate the way you're being a goofy whenever you tried to cheer me up, i hate you because you've always stucked in my mind and it's frustating me!

Oh baby please just take my hand, i want you to be my real husband. And i think we should leave that dumb agreement. My heart can not agree with my brain. I want you, i needed you. So bad.

I want you to be the sun for my flowers, i want you to be the dream for me to cherish, i want you to be the one i want to hold and loved.

Dios, (Y/N), have i lost my mind? Do you ever dreamt abouth these whole marriage? I have to admit that i loved it. Because i've found you.

(Y/N) smacked his face when he accidently found another letter that Isabela wrote not long ago. He almost burst his heart out of his chest. Isabela had no idea what is he doing, so she just shrugged it off and take a quick nap.

“Dios.” he mutters quitely. He glance at his wife who is taking nap, she's so beautiful when she's resting like that. He slowly moved next to her and slipped the ring out of her finger and keep it in the ring box.

He doesn't know why, but he felt that he had to propose to her properly and openly. He remembered that today is isabela's birthday, she's just turned twenty two just like him. He felt like an idiot for forgetting her birthday.

He's glad that the celebration is tonight. He decided he's going to confess everything to her, because he believe that he couldn't hold it in any longer.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

“Happy birthday Isabela!” everyone congratulates and cheers for the perfect madrigal as she thanked everyone for anticipate in the celebration. Sadly, she couldn't find her husband anywhere since he's back from work.

“i guess, he's working again until midnight.” Isabela pondered at the thought, knowing her husband is not going to come celebrate her birthday.

“Oh, (Y/N)...” she mumbled not noticing that he already towering from behind, “Yes, mi princesa?” Isabela widen her eyes as she turn around and her face was too close to (Y/N)'s. He laighed at her shocked expression as ruffle her hair, “Hey! Stop that—”

“Right, of course— Lo siento! I'll just go talk to Abuela and—” Isabela can't stand it anymore, she pull his wrist and lowering his tall body, “No, you can't go anywhere! You've been busy for these pas few months, you don't spend your free time with me anymore! You're just keep your best to— ... To stay away from me, aren't you?”

Isabela's voice stareted to cracked as her tears started to visible, “You still used that stupid agreement, you didn't know that it turns out a curse for me. You didn't let me love you, (Y/N).” Isabela tighten her grip as she tried her best to let any single of tears fall.

(Y/N) felt his heart dropped at the sight, he didn't mean to hurt her. He's just too focused on his carrier that makes him forgot about her, Isabela started to sobs as she put her head on his chest. (Y/N) ignore the stares he got from people, “Isabela is tired, excuse us.”

With that, (Y/N) pick her up in bridal style as he walked to the stairs and go to her room while locking the door. He lay her down on the soft matress as he wipes her tears.

“Hey, Isabela. I'm sorry that i've been hurting you without knowing the truth. I'm sorry, that i had to make you agree with me with that supid idea i got.” he pause for a moment as he think to say another word.

“I know it must be hard for you to forgive me for what i've done to you in these seven months, but— i just don't want to let you down with this feeling of mine.” he gently rub her back in circles as he watch her steady breathes.

“Isabela?” no answer

“Isabela,” again, no answer

“Isabela please, i— Will you marry me?”

The Madrigal widen her eyes as shifts back to her husband, “What do you mean?” (Y/N) rub his neck in shame as he get on one knee, “I feel like i have to propose to you properly— i wanted to confess, i have fallen for you, Isabela. Will you please accept me again, but as your true husband?

In no agreement, no pretending, no money, no everything that could destroyed our life?

Please, will you be mine? Be my true wife?” his eyes started to tear up showing how hopeless he is right now in front of her. Isabela nodded her head as she bring him in a tight hug.

Completely too scared to forced themselves to loved each other without understanding. Isabela wipes his tears away as she smiled at him, “I've been waiting for five months straight, and it's really worth it.”

She cup his face as she brings him closer to connect their lips who have been longed each other taste and mix feelings. They felt completed again, no more piece that make them stress themselves out to find it.

“Isabela, i love you— i love you so much, mi princesa..”

She gasped as he said this, her heart skipping a beat as he crouched down and left a soft kiss on her neck.

The painter then started kissing her all over her neck. She hung her head back for easier access. (Y/N) carefully grabbed Isabela's face and kissed her deeply.

Isabela didn't want to lose, so she kissed him back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Chuckling into their kiss, she relaxed into his touch immediately. She slipped her tongue into his mouth without permission, and he just let her do her favors.

It was thirty whole minutes until one of them decided to pull away to breathe. As they pulled away, a strand of saliva connected the both of their lips together. They just sat there, smiling at each other with so much love in her eyes.

“My (Y/N).” she whispers quitely as she saw the forming beast in his eyes, “Oh (Y/N), i will always be your true wife.” Isabela hold his face again, adoring him in every single one she touches.

“Let it all out, i'm all yours.”

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Two months have pass, (Y/N) and Isabela build their relationship back in good ways, they finally tell all the truth to the family. Of course the family was very understanding and still support them anyway.

(Y/N) purred as he lean on his wife's shoulder, Isabela rolled her eyes as she take a bite of her arepa and then shoves it all to (Y/N)'s mouth. “cwan youh atweast be gen—... Gentle?” (Y/N) drank his cup of water in a second as he wipe his mouth.

“Then stop being a baby.” (Y/N) sighs as he stood up, wanting to tease his wife a little bit, “Wha— where are you going?” Isabela grab his hand, not wanting to let go. “I think i have to switch place with Mirabel, i'm sorry that i bother you, Isabela.” he act pondered.

“What!? No! I won't allow you— come here and stay!” the whole family watch the couples playfully fighting at each other, not long after, Isabela felt sick as she almost throwing up.

She excuse herself and quickly run into the bathroom leaving the family on confusion, “What is wrong with her?” Agustin asked his son-in-law, “I don't know, she seems fine to me—” Mirabel and Julieta quickly stood up and goes to the bathroom too.

“i think i should check on her too.” before (Y/N) could go, he got stopped by Mariano. “Let the girls take care of her, after that, you can see her. I'm sure Señora Julieta can handle it.” (Y/N) stare at him for a moment and then nodded his head.

“Oh? What did you do to Isabela, (Y/N)?” Felix asked him in playful manner, Pepa nudge him right away, “I didn't do anything bad to her, i swear.” (Y/N) sweats nervously.

Around fifteen minutes, they finally came back. (Y/N) quickly run into Isabela and asked her how she feels, is she okay, did she catch a cold or something.

He just got gently push from his wife as she gave him a confidence smile. Isabela grab his hand again as she take him to their sit. “I have a good news for everyone, especially (Y/N).”

(Y/N) raises his eyebrows as he tilt his head, Isabela slowly put her hands on her flat tummy and sighs, “Estoy— ... embarazada.” Isabela says loud enough for everyone to hear. (Y/N)'s mouth hung open as he look at her in confirmation.

“En serio?” (Y/N) asked one more time before attacking her with surprise hug and kisses on her face. “Yes.” (Y/N) laughed in pure happiness as he immediately hug Isabela and twirl her.

“I'm going to be a Papá!”

“Hey, i'm also going to be a Mamá, mi amor.” Isabela facepalmed at her husband energetic vibes. (Y/N) rub the back of his head bashfully.

“This is wonderful, mi princesa. I love you, Thank you for everything.” he whispers as he peck her lips, “No, Thank you, mi amor. I love you so much.”

⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

[paper--moons]

CG!Elliott Headcanons

To say he absolutely dotes on his regressor would be an understatement. From the moment they rise all the way until bedtime, if it's a little day for them then Elliott is going to make it as special as he can. Doesn't matter if they're regressing due to stress or simply for fun, it's going to be a good day for them and that's a promise he will see through. It's his sole and sacred mission as their cg in shining armor. Although—in case the previous statement didn't make this apparent—he kind of has bumbling dad energy about him. Not so much in the sense that he doesn't know what he's doing, but he can be a little awkward and fumble things—it's just in his nature and doesn't reflect his caregiving ability, but it's endearing and certainly provides them with lots of opportunities to giggle at how silly Papa is.

It all begins with breakfast. Elliott isn't exactly a morning person per se, preferring to rise the "natural" way (the natural way being around 10AM and not at the crack of dawn with the birds). So when his little one comes to bounce him awake, already bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 7:30AM, it's not surprising that he's not fully awake yet. Sure, he's up and about but he's not awake—which is how his coffee winds up in their sippy cup. Lacking the caffeine, he's still too tired to think much of just drinking the precious bean juice from the sippy himself while getting them another sippy filled with (a much more child appropriate) orange juice. At the very least he can't mix up the food, since he makes them both oatmeal with strawberries—the sliced fruit being placed to make a smiley face in theirs, of course.

Midmorning to early afternoon sees Elliott faring markedly better. If the weather is nice, then he takes them outside for a day at the beach. Oftentimes when he writes during the day he does so outside, and this habit doesn't particularly change on their small days either. They are free to play in the sand and wade in the water at the shoreline while he does some journaling for his latest project. Although generally speaking he mostly jots down some key points or loose ideas to map out later, when he's not busy keeping a watchful eye on his charge that is. And though he's working, he never hesitates to share in their excitement whenever they bring him particularly pretty shells that they've found, or the even more exciting and rare piece of seaglass. In all actuality he only gets about half a page of work done before they've lured him into building a sandcastle with them (not that it took too much convincing!).

Alternatively, on days that are better spent indoors due to rain and such, Elliott tends to play the piano for them! Sometimes he plays and allows them to dance and twirl around until they spin themself silly, while other times he plays something for them to sing along to. Happy distractions from the rain outside, which can often be the source of boredom or worry for little ones. And then there are the rarer times where he'll play and sing for them. He's not much of a performer, but this comes from a place of warmth and love so it's special in its own right. Elliott's one for classics whether it be literature or music, and what song is more appropriate to sing to his little one on a stormy day than "You Are My Sunshine"? His voice is low and full of warmth, and as they sit beside him on the bench it's obvious that while simple it's a meaningful gesture.

Of course there's always plenty of flex on how they might spend afternoons though, depending on what season it is or what's happening in town! The spring flower dance and the egg festival always have them bouncing with excitement for practically the entire season. Summer days see them swimming and sticking to the beach, especially once the moonlight jellies start showing up. Nature walks are something they both enjoy especially in the fall, offering a way for them to explore and get out their energy while Elliott gets to take in the beauty of the day. Whereas winter days are often spent frequenting the library, and making hot cocoa to enjoy with all the mini marshmallows they can convince him is necessary (which is a lot, but they are very persuasive in his defense! Elliott can't argue with the baby).

The real magic of the day though, no matter the season? That sets in at about twilight. Just after dinner, when everything seems so warm and heavy as the day winds to a close. Because that's when Papa says it's bedtime. And bedtime is the grand production of the day. It's all about chsnging into the softest cotton jammies, the floral taste of a nice nighttime chamomile tea sweetened with just the right amount of honey. And most importantly, selecting the perfect book for the evening. To be a good writer you have to be a diligent reader, and Elliott knows this—he also knows that reading is a great way to spend quality time with his little one while bolstering that vivid imagination of theirs. So he has a whole bookshelf dedicated to housing books for their small time. Lots of classics with enough whimsy and charm to keep them both satisfied; the shelf is brimming with things like Peter Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh, and Frog and Toad, but the choice of what they read is ultimately left in his regressor's (small) capable hands.

Though half the time they wind up reading from The Wind in the Willows. It's not only one of his favorites, but one of theirs as well. There's nothing quite like spending the evening cuddled up in the low, golden lamplight as Elliott reads to them, his voice deep and even as he narrates, soothing any worries and keeping them comfortably in their smallspace. And there's something really special in the way that he reads to them. He doesn't so much as do different voices, but rather focuses on tone and inflection. It's clear when he's speaking as Badger, or as Mr. Toad, or any of the other characters without taking away from what's being spoken. However they can never get through the full book, despite starting bedtime earlier than most just so they have time to read more. They try to stay awake as long as possible, though Elliott knows once their eyes start fluttering it's time to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. They can finish the book some other time.

[staying-elive]

Sam as Cap and Joaquin as Falcon

So a fic idea I had playing around in my head (except that I'm not a writer lol help), or something I'd just like to see in a new Cap movie would be a full arc between Sam and Joaquin involving training with the Falcon wings. 

This got longer than expected, but here's a general breakdown...

Set during Cap4-ish

An Act 1 early scene showing Sam training Joaquin with the wings, Joaquin is doing pretty well but is also a bit young and cocky so he's taking unnecessary risks before he's ready.

Sam's clearly anxious about having a wingman, because if anything were to happen then Sam would feel responsible because Sam literally put Joaquin in the air.

Then later, Act 2, maybe it's a small op, Joaquin's first time on a mission with the wings, Joaquin makes a really reckless call.  Like, full nose dive, low altitude, too fast, Sam's shouting to pull up over the comms and Joaquin is all "I can do this though!"

It's a close call, he only just manages to get out of it with a split second.

But as soon as they're both on the ground Sam goes OFF!  Like full "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?! You disobeyed a direct order! No - that's it -  you're grounded." and storms off.  Classic Act 2 emotional conflict. We've never seen Sam lose it before like this.

*(note: grounded like Air force 'you're not allowed to fly again until I say', not like grounding a teenager 😅)

Anyway,  a scene later someone takes Joaquin aside - maybe Bucky, maybe Rhodey (I like this option more since they're all air force and perhaps has spoken to Sam about his history after his own fall in CW, and I loved their convo in FatWS),  or it could be Sam himself once he's cooled off a bit - and just explains to Joaquin why it so important to Sam that he not dive in too fast before he's ready, not to take those risks because it would kill Sam if anything happened to him.

Cue obvious Riley reference, because we need to bring back Sam's backstory god dammit! He hasn't been mentioned since CAWS!

Then have Sam explain that's it's not just about Riley, that sometimes missions go wrong and sometimes you lose and you have to accept that, but sometimes the risk can be avoided.

That Sam's seen soldiers taking risks too extreme because they were young and dumb and thought that they were invincible.

That he's seen pilots go down with their planes, who wouldn't eject, trying to fix a problem they couldn't right until the moment they hit the ground.

That he knows how intoxicating the wings can be. The rush, the speed, the adrenaline, the freedom you feel in the air.  (After all, Sam's dodged missiles, kicked a helicopter mid air, and stabbed a giant alien with his wings, and jumps backwards out of planes just to feel the air...he *gets it*.) But the qualities that make Sam, and Joaquin, great in the wings are the same qualities that if they don't keep their heads on straight, will lead them off the edge.

Joaquin apologises, understands and accepts that he's grounded for the moment and is back to being the intelligence guy (he's an intel officer isn't he?)

ACT 3!

I have no idea what the actual plot of this film/fic scenario is but whatever.... plot happens. Final show down is happening.  Sam and team (team like how Steve had a 'team' taking down Shield in DC, not Avengers per se) need back up, oh no!

And Joaquin, knowing he'd be disobeying Sam again, but knowing this is the right call to make grabs his Falcon wings and joins the fray.

Somehow (again...I'm not a writer 😭), the fight continues and Joaquin ends up needing to pull a pretty reckless move and not much time to think about consequences. Maybe he's diving to save Sam!   Or maybe he's doing something that is pivotal to saving the day. (But Sam still does the Big Thing that saves the day because this is still a Cap movie/story 😁😘)

The day is saved!  Hugs all around!   

Sam learns to ease off a bit, let go of his fear of losing another friend (as much as he can), affirms that Joaquin has good instincts and that he trusts the kid as his wingman (he's a 'bizarrely wise man' after all).  He's the Falcon now.  Every Captain America needs a Falcon.  😉 🤍❤💙

The end.   Hopefully a city hasn't been destroyed.

---

Thoughts?   

Basically, I want a Cap story to really dig in to Sam and show him as a leader and a mentor but also that he's not 100% okay all the time.  That he has fears and insecurities that aren't based on his own role (fuck off 'earning the shield' ugh), but that as the Captain who's making the calls now,  people that are inspired by him or who follow him are his responsibility (in his mind).  Being reckless with your own life is one thing, enabling someone else to risk their own is another.   You know, heavy is the head that wears the crown.... heavy is the heart that bears the shield...?? 

I want lots of character moments and not just 'we gotta stop the Big Bad Dude' plot stuff.

If anyone has any recommendations of general fics like this I'd love to read them.  Or if this inspires any fics I would absolutely love to read them also. 🥰