#guy who is so so normal about music and the emotions it invokes

[halcyoncyrus]

Naked in Manhattan is one of those earphones in volume full blast time for a spiritual awakening kind of songs

[bunybunn]

Okay enough time passed for me to try to put it all my thoughts about the Dream situation in one place at least until the Shut up i'm talking (patreon only 7$!!!) episode comes out.

First of all let's not forget that all of this started because Dream got involved in Twitter beef that had nothing to do with him. Sure xQc mentioned Dream's name but it was in reference to Tommy "dickriding" Dream when he was starting making content. It was dig at Tommy that didn't needed Dream's response in the slightest however the green guy didn't care and posted meme using r-word. Which obviously gain shit ton of backlash from every normal enough person because that is a slur. This also means that a lot of people reacted and talked about it including Tubbo.

The fact that this followed with 3 hours stream where Dream specifically reacted to Tubbo is ridiculous by itself. All he had to do is apologise and take responsibility for using a slur but instead Dream felt the need to pull out old controversy and pull more content creators into it. Additionally despite himself claiming that you should not cut things out of context he was skipping parts of Tubbo's stream and did not watched in in full. Also it's important to mention that the "apology" he did said in the said stream was especially "I saw people on Internet calling me that and I thought that means I can use it as a slur as well" which is an insane take that also sounded like something little kid would use as ane excuse.

Next important stop is Tommy's response. It was basically just Tommy telling Dream that he doesn't want to associate with him anymore. It's worth pointing out Tom's video was done in one take style, the was no big editing but rather just Tommy shearing his opinion and his feelings. Because of that we got few hyperboles like Dream "harassing" Tommy's mom and him being described as a movie villain-like.

Then you have the Dreams response to Tommy that was definitely not done with good intentions. Unlike Tom's one Dream's video was edited, he added music, pictures that were not proofs but were there to invoked specific emotions and also a short in Minecraft scene when he referenced his dream smp character. In my opinion that video was perfect example of how to manipulate audiences with content. He ensured that Tom's arguments seemed ridiculous, usually by taking it out of context like he did with the sexism part as well as with Tommy saying he was behind dream smp success, or pulled heavier accusations that make Tommy looked bad. Keep in mind how insane it actually was to after Dream had his content and merch be called lazy going straight to using case of scummy company that produced Tommy's merch at some point and has legal case against it that Dream had no deeper knowledge about and using rumors that Tommy is/was mistreating his editors using screanshots that were cropped and taken without consent of people in those. All of it while Dream was trying to act like he is still the good guy who so respects everyone and just wants everyone to get along.

The thing is Tubbo's discussion with Dream proved that was absolute bullshit. During the conversation it was clear genuinely expected it to go as he usually described private calls aka after he gets to explain himself the other person will see it his way. Unfortunately for him he heavily underestimated Tubbo, who did phenomenal job try to point out Dream missteps and make good arguments. Still Dream's behaviour was very much manipulative during it. I think the moment that shows it the most was the part where they talked about the merch company where Tubbo got to the point where he slipped and mentioned that there was one case of child labor in said company, something that clear came from his insider knowledge, and Dream started to use Tubbo's words against him to justify himself even though he had not know about it when making his video therefore it was irrelevant. His attitude also was very much "rules for thee not for me" any time Tubbo tried to hold Dream to the same standards Dream is holding other people who talk about him. Another thing that rubbed me the wrong way was how hard Dream was trying to make himself look good at the very end of the discussion by throwing complements and trying to act as if everything got resolved. I'm pretty sure he hoped this would encourage people to talking it out with him in private but I feel this might have the opposite effect since everyone got to see how such call would potencialy look like.

[illyrian-lover-flower]

What are your top 10 and bottom 10 ACOTAR characters?

Hello sweet anon, I first wanted to thank you so much (you brightened my day with that😊) and before we start I just thought to tell you that this turned out rather long, so I summarized it at the top and put my whole reasons under the cut😄

Positive:

1. Elain/ 2. Azriel/ 3. Nuala & Cerridwen/ 5. Lucien/ 6. Amren/ 7. Alis/ 8. Nesta/ 9. Cassian/ 10. Feyre

Negative:

10. Morrigian/ 9. Graysen/ 8. Rhysand/ 7. Cauldron/ 6. Attor/ 5. Amarantha/ 4. Ianthe/ 3. Luciens Brothers/ 2. Beron Vanserra/ 1. -

+ 1. Elain

Ok, so I just love this female. I love how Elain is not portrayed as the type of woman who does need a weapon to get what she wants. It is true that one might take her outstanding beauty as a weapon (it sure is) but she can achieve a lot of good things by just using her words and charisma, letting peace remain, before one might do the wrong step and start a war.

Elain is in my opinion though not only charismatic, but also really … yeah silent and well behaved. She does not need to be the centre of the party or a conversation, we have learned she enjoys the company of silence too and her language or the way she is, just speaks on another level. One might say she has a stick shoved up her ass, but I don’t think that this is the case, simply bc we have seen Elain act on her own emotions as well, she just seems to prefer to hold up that mask of her human days around her family, she can use curses too and also have dirty thoughts (her reaction to Azriel on solstice (this was no shock, fear or whatever one might claim!)) god forbid!

Something I also love about her is her seer ability, I am most of the time really intrigued by the future, so seeing her look into the still foggy realms of what is to happen, is really interesting.

+ 2. Azriel

This boy just deserves all the love this world has to give! One of the reasons probably bc dark and broody males with a whole wall of mystery build around them are my typ. But no, seriously – I think Az is one of the most misunderstood characters, mostly by his family.

Bc even though he has known the greatest part of his family for 500+ years, no one seems to understand him, his feelings or his wishes (Thank you Rhysand!) as everyone just assumes Azriel is Azriel and is just ok with being where his family is( Obligated to be the fifth wheel for the rest of eternity!😭)

Something which I also think the IC mistakes is his silence. It might seem as if Azriel barely has anything to say, but I guess it is more the other way around, as we have figured out that if he talks it is always well thought with deep meanings, at times even poetic from the bottom of his heart and often used to motivate or encourage someone. I just think he picks his words so carefully bc he is afraid to give away too much of himself and that everything he might say, or every thought he harboured, could be used against him, so that he would be wounded (THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THAT RHYSAND!)

+ 3. Nuala & Cerridwen

I just love both of them, so I was not able to put one of them on a fourth place.

Anyway, Nuala and Cerridwen are two characters who are also majorly underestimated. Those two have a quiet side which makes most  of the people around them forget that they even exist, which is pretty noticeable from Feyres, Rhysands and even Nestas pov (though I am not gonna lean too wide out of the window with her since I haven’t read Acosf yet) Those two could literally plan to overthrow an High Lord and we would only know the moment it is too late,bc everyone seems to forget about their existence. Something I also love about them, is their whole character. We don’t know much about them now, but it already is noticeable that they accept people like they are, for they have no fear of Azriel, nor do they act around Elain as if she were made of glas.

+ 5. Lucien

Lucien is just an innocent bean who deserves all the love in all of Prythian! I might be an Elriel stan, but you might want to address the fact that not even one rooting for Elriel is oblivious to the shit show which took place in Luciens life. Undermined son, lover killed in front of his eyes, abused/used by his best friend and on top of that practically homeless. He knows that he can’t go back to the spring court yet, for things with Tamlin did not yet settle down, he also knows he isn’t also really home at the Night Court and god forbid if he ever thought of entering Autumn again! If it wouldn’t be for the Band of Exils (Thank god they exist) he’d be all lonely and without a roof over his head.

And this is something our sassy, witty fox does not deserve.

+ 6. Amren

Amren is just a character I identify with. She seems like as if she is only caring about her own stuff and only mind her business, while in truth she just doesn’t know how to express the love she feels for her family, as we know from her former past she did not even receive love, and just cares the most about her family.

Something I also love about her is her whole behaviour if one is to doubt her size. In my country I barely scratch the minimum of average height, so a friend of mine likes to make jokes about my size (much like Cassian about Amren), so seeing how she just shows him his place with a glare or some sharp words is just satisfaction to me.

+ 7. Alis

The kindness with which Alis treated Feyre in Acotar just sort of stuck to me and as I did not really find a character in Prythian, who was born there, who had the same kindness as her – she just stayed.

+ 8. Nesta

Nesta is a character I absolutely love, in Acotar I do admit I did not pay that much attention to her or Elain, but I just love how strong minded she is. She had been fighting for her own goal the moment she got spit out of the cauldron and she did not particularly stray from that. I also adore her for her strength – she wouldn’t even have been in the need to learn combat in order to hurt someone, as Nesta just analyses the people around her so much, so that she’ll know exactly what would feel to them like a gut stab.

The fact that Nesta is a huge bookworm and a dreamer in her own way makes her even more awesome.

+ 9. Cassian

Now you can just love this guy! He might have his ups and downs, but in the end he always worked his way out of them. Cassian just has such a big heart, that much like Nesta, he would do anything in order to protect his family and loved ones.

And while he is great to cheer one up, he might not be the brightest candle on the cake, but he would still go to the end of the world if it meant he could fight and protect those he loves. Something I also liked was that he is practically the one who started this whole thing with the females training while Rhysand just let the Illyrians do like they please.

+ 10. Feyre

As the main character we had learned a lot about her and I am happy that she is alive, has her freedom, is in love with her mate, has a child, a loving family and a really high title (*cough* High Lady). But what I think she could have done different was the way of how she treated both, Elain and Nesta, during their traumas.

Even though Nesta might not have shown her trauma that clear in the beginning, she could have still looked over the plates rim once it was almost tearing through one’s ears in a painful scream of help that Nesta was not fine. And judging someone straight out mad or considering it while you yourself have not even a real clue of how this whole Prythian thing works is just a big no-no. Elain doubted herself already enough, Feyres fear that she might have gone mad was not helping the situation.

And well Nestas story is one I can’t particularly dive into yet, but from what I have read (Acofas) she dealt with it the wrong way. It might have been that she and Nesta did not have the best relationship and she might have even wondered if she was entitled to bound with her sister on such a topic, but when Nesta pushed each of them away Feyre should have not moved away from her.

Feyre already did a lot for her, true, but Feyre knew herself how it was to have a trauma and she herself had pushed help, in the first months, away, but however I am overall just happy she got her happy ending.

- 10. Morrigian

I have criticized Morrigian already a lot, but I will just say it again.

First of, I don’t hate her. Morrigian is a character who I think has a lot to tell, as we know she kept the biggest part of herself a secret until now, but I just don’t like how she claims to trust the IC while in truth she refuses to tell them of her sexuality (the thing she seems to be afraid? of the most.)

I know the Azriel pining after her for 500+ years, was a lot of pressure on her back, but she could have also just told him she wasn’t interested or loved females (if she wouldn’t have been fine with telling Rhys). However I think she is going to be one of the more important side characters as I think her situation and everything that follows, pretty much sums up how gays/lesbians and other LGBTQ members feel now a days. And I think her journey is sort of supposed to help to overcome those struggles.

I at least hope she gets her journey.

- 9. Graysen

Graysen was an ass for breaking the engagement of like a toddler, that’s it – end of the song. If he would have told Elain he couldn’t trust her bc she lied to him – ok.

But the tune makes the music! Keep that in mind,Nolan!

- 8. Rhysand

Now Rhysand is to me a character who tip toes on a two sided blade.

I normally do like him, he is kind and caring and no doubt would die for the people he loves, but he has a very, very hard time separating work from private life. The example I’ll go with is the big bad magical solstice. He might have claimed that the kiss between Elain and Az could have invoked a blood duel, if Lucien would have notice, possibly even provoking a war between Night and Autumn (work) but his ulterior motive were Feyre and Nyx, no one blames him for that, but it is a private reason and excuse he should not use while speaking as the High Lord.

And again, when Az starts doubting the Cauldron with choosing the wrong mate for Elain, Rhys assumes it is just lust speaking from Az and commands him as the High Lord to stay away from Elain (low blow of assumption, but not my point) while he then offers to pay for the pleasure halls Azriel could possibly seek out (according to him). With what money would he have paid it, his own (private) while he was speaking as the High Lord, or the exchequer (work)?

You see my point? Anyway Rhys is a loving character, but he is just a bit troubled ruling an entire court (this huge) and having a family to take care of. Perhaps he is having it settled in a few years, but until then we will just have to wait and see.

- 7. Cauldron

I don’t really know if you can call the Cauldron a character, but I just placed it here as I hated how it had humiliated Nesta and Elain.

The bloodshed it caused was also nothing I ever want to mention again.

- 6. Attor

Now just the Rainbow and the attack on Velaris, just this, nu-uh man.

- 5. Amarantha

I hated her for killing innocent fae, enslaving High Lords or in general and setting up ‘riddles’ (games) in which the life of helpless fae was depending on a human who could barely safe herself with a bargain. Something I also kind of take personal is how she treated Jurian, I mean ok – he deserved a punishment, but like setting him in chains and having him barely at the minimum of survival would have been also fine.

- 4. Ianthe

Just the Suriel! This was when I took things personal! (I’ll add an 11 to the list above – I loved the weaver!)

- 3. Luciens Borthers

Luckily, most of those little shits got what they deserve.

I don’t grow up in a family very high in statues, so I don’t know how it is, but no matter if poor or rich – siblings should fight together instead of against each other! And most definitely not kill the female their brother loved!

- 2. Beron Vanssera

I hate him for having hesitated saving Rhys, watching how his sons treated Lucien and how he could possibly let anything as terrifying, as what had happened to Mor, happen. Also – it’s just the way how he treats his wife!

Someone really hadn’t drunken his ‘respectful juice’, for the last fucking Millenia!

- 1. /

I don’t really despise a character entirely, as I know each and every one has a bright and dark side of the coin (Still trying to find the bright side of Luciens father and brothers though)

[wendibird]

SPN 15X19 Observations

So, here we are. Second-to-last episode of this show and what has been said will be the Season Finale. (While next week’s is the Series Finale.) 

Without further ado...

I don’t even know what to think going into this second-to-last episode. I don’t expect a “happy” ending to this show. But I can’t help hoping for a fitting one. One that makes some kind of sense. That does the characters justice. We’ll see how it goes. (Also, I want some GOOD content for Sam. *LOL*)

(Also, my notes might be sparse because I want to concentrate on the show.)

- Everyone’s gone.

- Except these three.

- Does Sam and Jack know about Cas?

- THEY DON’T KNOW YET!!! *crying* (To be clear, not upset that Dean didn’t tell them sooner. Since obviously there had to be a phone conversation at some point, or at least texting so they’d know where to meet up. THAT kind of news isn’t something to tell over the phone if you can help it.) 

- The music is really playing this up well.

- Oh Jack….. 

- And he’s still killing plants.

Commercial Thoughts:

I’ve said this again and again but I still don’t like how Chuck is being written. He might as well be rubbing his hands and cackling evilly. 

That being said, this really is sadistic. One of the few things that’s kept Sam and Dean going through all of this has been the people they’ve been able to save. (Crowely caught on to that in S8 and used it to good effect. But he was like a sniper, precise with it. Chuck is like a fricking nuke.) 

And Sam losing hope always makes me sad. (Have noticed the looks Dean keeps giving him. Still checking on him and how he’s doing and worrying about him.)

- This camera work is weird. Dream-like?

- DOGGY!!!!!

- omg Dean’s happy about a dog!

- WOW. That’s a new low.

- So, no animals? (Guess they’re gonna have to go vegetarian eventually if this doesn’t get fixed.)

- Michadam!!! 

- WHAT?! (No Adam?! HOW DARE CHUCK!!!)

Commercial Thoughts:

Okay, Chuck taking Adam is a really REALLY low-blow! (But then, that might be what pushed Michael to decide to help them after all.) 

Not surprised that Michael can’t open the book. Wondering if Jack can? Or they could call some reapers and see who wants the job of the next Death. *LOL* Hold interviews. “What will you do for us if we give you this promotion?” (crack thoughts, don’t mind me.)

I’m not sure if Chuck has realized that they have nothing left to lose. And that’s generally when people are at their most dangerous. (I mean yes, they have each other, but in the wake of what’s been lost? Literally the whole world? They can’t let that go. They can’t just sit back and treat it as a vacation. It’s not how they are.)

- CAS?! 

- WTF?!?!?!?! (Did NOT want to see Lucifer again tbh. And apparently neither did Dean. *LOL*)

- Okay, so Lucifer promoted the next Death.

- Is he actually dead this time?

- One can only hope.

- YEY! LUCIFER IS DEAD AGAIN!!!

Commercial thoughts:

So…. what was the point of all that again? 

Okay, I get that in the end, the book is open and now they can hopefully read it. Seems kind of convoluted. (Also, do NOT get me started on the whole “God and the Darkness have no pull in the Empty”. Unless God just replicated Lucifer, like I theorize he did with Lilith.) 

Wondering if they just did all that to have Luci and Mark P. back one more time.

- Sam being his super-smart self! <3

- What is Sam not saying?

- Hey! Isn’t that the lake where Jack was born?

- FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! Fricking Michael.

- Bloody winchesters

- That’s what Sam wasn’t saying. I don’t think they trusted Michael.

- Sam figured something out.

- Wow. That is some poetic justice!

- I’m actually impressed with that.

- So now what?

Commercial Thoughts:

Wow. Okay, that was a weird twist of a way to get there. But I’ve honestly got to say that I like it. It works. (I’d always hoped Jack would still be the key to Chuck’s downfall.)

I still feel sorry for Amara though. Like, is she just nothingness? Is she an alternate personality deep inside Chuck now? 

And what about Jack? Can he put things back to how they’re supposed to be? Bring everyone back? Did he get Chuck’s knowledge as well as his power? At least of who all he took away? 

Guess we’ll have to see.

Also, usually I’m not a fan of the trope of the “Good guys” sparing the villain who’s killed tons of people because “they’re above killing”. But in this case? It really was fitting. And a worse punishment than killing Chuck would have been.

- OH GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!!!!

- Sammy’s cafe!

- (Okay I’m getting a little misty)

- His smile!!! 

- OKay, I might cry now.

- They raised God.

- Awwww….. (The names)

- Okay, so, I’m not okay! (But I’m okay with it, so… good thing?)

- So it ends with them doing whatever it is they want? 

- I wonder if the Apocalypse World people were brought back? And their other friends. (And Eileen? I’m sorry, I know not everyone ships it, but I do, and now Sam doesn’t have the great Plot of the Universe conspiring against him.)

After-Show Thoughts: (After I’ve had a few hours to ponder things)

Let me just say, the music in this episode? Like, just even the background music? It was amazing! It did such a good job of invoking the emotions that were being felt by the guys. And their choices of songs used were also good. :) 

Michael: So, in some ways his character shift in this episode seems odd after the last time we saw him. But then I thought more about it, and I think Adam’s death had a lot to do with it. In the previous episode in which we saw them, of the two of them Adam actually seemed to be more stable, and often had good, grounding advice for Michael. Now with him gone, all Michael had was himself. And at heart, he still wanted his father’s love, despite everything that had happened. And I still think he’s an interesting Parallel/Contrast to Dean, who also had the same father-worship for a long time, but over time he’s come to understand that John was wrong about a lot of things, and he needs to make his own way. I don’t think that’s something that Michael ever REALLY learned. Not deep down. 

Lucifer: I found his presence here to be annoying. I get that he moved the plot along. And I get how much at least half of Buckleming love him. I am glad that his part was brief and that he didn’t get a redemption arc. I do wish Sam had been able to kill him. (I know, he couldn’t have because only another archangel with an archangel blade yadda-yadda. STILL though…) Or that there had maybe been SOME meaningful interaction between him and Sam for old time’s sake, since that always gets nice and spicy. (Because Jared and Mark P. always keep in mind everything that’s happened between them and put that into their performances.) But time limits and all that. Also, why were there no wing-shadows on the floor when Lucifer died? There were wing shadows on the floor of the friggen church at the end of S13 and he died like 15 feet up in the air. *LOL* I mean, then whenever Sam looked at the floor in the Library he could remember that Lucifer is Dead for Good. 

And I just rewatched the scene again and when he died, he just went poof. Like, in the past, unless a finger-snap thing is involved that’s not what happens when angels die. If they get stabbed, there’s usually been a body left behind. Heck, at the end of S13 there was a full-on light-show. Now it almost looked like a regular angel death just with redder light instead of silvery-blue. Was that because it was just a thrown-together mock-up of Lucifer that Chuck made? (Like with Lilith? Because he’s NOT supposed to have any sway in the Empty! Dammit, how hard is it for the writers to remember the stuff that was already established?!)  

(Sorry. Continuity issues bug me. And they’ve bugged me from Season 1 on, so I know that’s not a new thing. But it does feel like they’ve gotten especially worse this season.) 

(Also, I’m starting to get tired so I’m going to try to wrap this up here. *LOL*)

I did like how they brought Chuck down. When it comes down to it, they weren’t following a pre-set plan. (Well, what happened probably WAS written in that book, but they didn’t know what it was.) Instead they found their own way with what they had. They figured out what was going on with Jack, and Sam figured out some bullshit spell to make some cool light-effects in order to fool Michael and Chuck into thinking they were setting it up for him. The only aspect of it that fell a little flat for me was the extended exposition on how they’d done it. It’s a trope that crops up a lot. The whole “Haha see what I did there!” But, on the other hand, I also realize that unless they’d shown us each step of the process as it was happening, there was no real way around presenting it that way. And it WAS more dramatic to have the audience in the dark until that moment. Also, I can’t deny the effectiveness of the scene where Chuck keeps beating them down but they keep standing up again. I mean, isn’t that an allegory for their whole lives? And at the end he’s incredulous as to why or even HOW they can still stand. What makes them keep going? True, part of it was that they knew the plan, and they knew this was part of it. (Which I think is why Sam opened it up with punching Chuck. To turn the confrontation more physical and draw it out, or he might have decided after all to just finger-snap them.) But part if it is also them just being them. They’ve both been down this road before. Like their whole lives have been this road. And they’ve both been to hell. Both suffered unimaginable tortures. And they just keep going. When one stumbles the other gets up. Or they get each other up. And they laugh in God’s face. Just… THAT was well-done. And Chuck's ending with them NOT killing him? That was absolutely poetic. Because now he's busted down to "normal" and has to figure out actual life (or just end his, but he'd have to do it himself) and he didn't even get an "ending" of his creations killing him. Because even if he did make them, he clearly still doesn't understand them. And I liked them saying "no" to the revenge game. (After making sure that he couldn't come back again as a problem. Cause they ain't dumb either. Despite what everyone keeps saying about them.) 

I also loved the scene where Jack brings everyone back. I would have liked to have seen some shots of some of the individual ones that we’d come to know being back, like Donna, some of those AU people (Eileen!) but I also get this ep was shot during Covid so they probably couldn’t get as many people back. (I hope some of them at least get name-dropped in the next episode so we know for sure that they’re back and alive.) But anyway, I thought the scene was well done, that song was a GOOD choice for it! (But then, I am a bit biased. It’s among some of the music I grew up listening to because my parents had it.) It may not be classic rock, but classic folk is fitting for the new God. :) 

Overall, I thought there were some pacing issues with this episode, but in general I was happier with it than the previous one. I’ve just been re-watching it (because I never catch everything the first time through, especially when I’m trying to take notes) and I just noticed something. Near the end when Sam and Dean are in the Library and Dean says “To everyone that we lost along the way.” I first was a bit puzzled about that, because my mind went to the more immediate people that they’d lost recently, and whom I’m assuming Jack brought back too. But on re-watching I thought about it in a grander scale. How many people have they lost in their lives due to Chuck’s story? Because Chuck thought it would make things more dramatic? I think he was reflecting on their whole lives, not just the last 48 or so hours. And that makes sense too with what Sam said following, about them finally being able to write their own story. (And yes, I know that Cas was not one of those brought back. At least, he doesn’t seem to have been. And though I don’t ship him and Dean, I don’t doubt for a minute that Dean cares/cared about him very much. It’s okay to love your friends. But I didn’t get the feeling that he was JUST talking about one person. That held the weight of years of losses.) 

I thought the ending montage was brilliant! Honestly, if the show ended here, I would have been okay. Not saying I DON’T want another episode! I’ll take whatever I can get. And I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing where they take their story. So yeah, looking forward to the next (and final *cries*) episode.

Anyway, that’s about all I can really dredge up this late at night. *LOL* This will be the LAST time I do one of these knowing there’s more to come. It’s the last week we’ll all wait in suspense for what’s going to happen next. After next week's episode we'll be into new territory of "That's all there is and ever will be." This has been quite a journey, and I haven’t liked all of it, but overall I still love this weird little show, and even more so the characters that we've met through it. So, to quote Bobby, “Here’s to runnin’ into you guys on the other side.”

[mmikmmik2]

First impressions of episodes three and four under the readmore

The Old West Car

So the moral of this episode was that they /thought/ Kez was abandoning them, but actually they just didn't understand how she thinks and what she was trying to tell them... hmmmm... what does that remind me of........

MORGAN IS A /PASSENGER/?

Min-Gi politely but frantically ringing the concierge bell when the cat was right there killed me

Ryan trying to flirt with the cat absolutely destroyed me. Oh my god they're so funny.

Mm hm, so the numbers went down in sync as they both made progress together... adds up, adds up. Still think we could see that number getting a bit weird if they de-sync somehow? One of them might feel better than the other about how things are going, something like that.

Ryan feeling neglected by his family... oof. I don't think that's an innocent "feels overshadowed by lots of older siblings" thing (though his large family is probably part of why he feels that way), given his dad's somewhat cynical line at their bassinets, and that the Akagis let Ryan drive off alone when he was like 17/18 and didn't seem to be keeping in touch with him, and that the tape (which again, I believe is intended in lore to be constructed by the passenger's own subconscious) had more interaction between Ryan and the Parks than between Ryan and his own family.

Actually, I wonder if the scene with them as newborns is completely a construct of their imaginations? That would make the most sense, because neither of them were old enough to remember that and also I was thinking as I watched it that newborn babies can't really see that far away and smile on reflex, not for emotional expression

oh my god, it just hit me that they have /no idea/ that the boots do anything. dkjasldkfj I want them to go as long as possible without figuring out the magnet function

Next episode is... "THE PIG BABY CAR"??? ...maybe Alice in Wonderland reference? (yes, there was a pig baby in that book)

The Pig Baby Car

Yeah this might legit be an aesthetic reference to Alice in Wonderland, with them being small and all. This set piece reminds me of the Kingdom Hearts level in Wonderland.

The soundtrack referenced the music in The Unfinished Car (remember, an episode with messed up gravity and floating staircases and so on that Tulip was hopping around on) when they first looked up at the floating cabinet and started hopping around in the fucky wucky gravity, I love that

oh my god, I was ABSOLUTELY thinking about this earlier - doesn't the superficial read on the situation, and the information that was presented to us earliest in the promotional period, make it sound like Ryan is the one at a turning point in his life? Min-Gi was having an absolutely normal one at the diner, Min-Gi has his life on track (allegedly!), Ryan is the one who was flailing and failing as a musician and desperately ran back to try and force Min-Gi to join him again as a last-ditch effort to fix his life. From the outside, without thinking about all the scenes we saw in The Twin Tapes showing that Min-Gi only ran off because he got scared and how much Min-Gi missed Ryan and missed music, if you take everything the guys have said and done at face value it does seem natural to assume that Ryan is the one at a crossroads and Min-Gi is dragged along.

Curious how much Min-Gi's desperate act of self defense here (he doesn't know Ryan has been playing at like, parties and old folks' homes, he probably thinks he's been stewing in regret while Ryan the big shot musician has been gearing up to take New York City, so of course he's eager to cast Ryan as the failure and himself as Having Absolutely No Doubts Or Regrets) is trying to reinforce/re-invoke old toxic patterns and how much is him inventing something new. There was that one scene where he temporarily shot down Chicken Choice Judy as a band name and that moment in The Glacier Car where Ryan said something along the lines of "you think you're so smart", but I'm not thinking of anything else at the moment showing that kind of dynamic between them? Hm, maybe it's like, there /was/ a reoccurring thread in their relationship of Min-Gi being more conventionally successful and perceived as intelligent, but it wasn't a particularly major issue before now.

I definitely think a big element of this is Min-Gi wanting an excuse to frame himself as someone Ryan needs and relies on. Oh my god Ryan must feel /so/ garbo right now and Min-Gi has no idea, both of them have no idea the other one has been unhappy and full of regret since they parted ways

I am in love with this plot development, I love complicated miscommunication and characters trying to impose a ridiculous interpretation onto a situation because of their emotional problems

oooooooooh so their numbers /can/ diverge - I didn't see Ryan's number during the episode after Min-Gi's number jump, but in the stinger it looked like Min-Gi was back at 202 and Ryan was still at 180-ish. I love that, very excited to see where this goes.

I'm so glad they spent the entire episode trying to do parkour in a car with weird gravity and still don't seem to realize they're wearing magnet boots. I hope Kez has known this entire time and just didn't realize they didn't realize.

[vendettacanons]

058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day? + 092. What emotion does your character evoke in others? for franklin and andreas.

⚔️ 100 Random Character Development Questions // CLOSED ⚔️

058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day?

// Franklin’s idea of a perfect day is one where he actually wakes up with the desire and energy to get out of bed. He has a good breakfast, has one of his stable jobs that he can jam out in a car ride to, then work for those full-time hours doing something normal for once. After that, he gets out early enough to take Chop for a walk and get a workout in. Ideally, these can both be done with headphones on and minimal risk of getting shot in the back. Once that’s oer he has maybe an hour or two to himself for making music, watching sports, or just catching a nap before he has to make dinner, clean himself up, relax a little more, then go to bed. His idea of a perfect day is just a day where he can function and feel normal really.

// Andreas’ idea of a perfect day is one where he wakes up, can do his usual morning routine and get to work on time and find parking. Having coffee is a bonus too. Ideally, his day would go by without having to see Steve (or Dave), but if he has to see him than his wish is that he would be quiet for once in his life. A quiet day filing paperwork, Cluckin’ Bell for lunch, and after that he’d lie to go home, cook, and spend time with his animals. He liked listening to music with his birds and dancing in the kitchen with his dog while making himself a heart meal of rice and chicken. Maybe even sit outside and enjoy the view for a little while, even go to the beach if he really feels like going out. By and large he’d just like to forget he’s a government agent for a while.

092. What emotion does your character evoke in others?

// Franklin tends to evoke a sense of disappointment. Not the typical “he’s such a disappointment” type of disappointment (unless you’re Denise) but more of a “oh great, looks like the party’s over” kind of disappointment. Franklin’s desire to be reasonable and realistic about things by minimizing risk and using common sense tends to put a damper on his company with others, especially Lamar. Alternatively, the fact that he tends to be indecisive, passive, and would rather facilitate solutions that let conflict go on makes him somewhat annoying to people who enjoy picking fight so Michael and Trevor solely because he points out that their anger, however cathartic it might be to let out, is ultimately useless. Put simply, Franklin is level-headed and responsible, and the people around him are very aggressive and impulsive. They like it when things get hot, and when he comes in to cool things down, even if it’s for their own good they still view it as him ruining the fun.

// The kinds of emotions Andreas evokes in others is entirely dependent on what they want to see. Andreas sort of molds himself to be what others want. In most cases, this is obedient and disciplined. He seems like your typical IAA jackboot, a little helper following around the big guy in the office. An assistant. A secretary even. Depending on how you view the FIB determines how you view Andreas by extension. If you support the FIB and its goals he’d invoke pride as a studious and dedicated employee. If you don’t, he’d seem like just another bootlicker. A polite and resourceful one, but a bootlicker all the same. He mostly invokes neutrality and a sense of ‘normalcy’ in the sense that when you think of government agents, he’s pretty much what you expect.

[sachigram]

Syzygy

“Shizuo didn't ask for any of this, but maybe there is such a thing as being in the right place at the right time.”

((click here to read on ao3!))

Shizuo hates places like this.

Sure, he used to bar tend. It was actually one of his most favorite gigs before that bastard flea got him arrested and fired, but that was a swanky place, rarely any incidences to invoke the wrath of the muscled bouncer usually lurking in the corner. This place is another story entirely, and Shizuo is considering asking if Shinra has any ibuprofen on him to combat the reverberance of the bass in his ears.

It's not anyone's fault but his own. Shizuo could have said no to coming out. He wanted to, but Celty asked him, said it wouldn't be fun without all her friends there, and Shizuo reluctantly agreed on the grounds that Shinra treat him to drinks and bar food, preferably wings. Shinra has delivered on his end of the bargain, but no one else deemed to show up but the three of them, Kadota and the gang citing they had something else to do, which is likely staking out in front of the comic store to await the release of some closet manga. Shizuo is tipsy, has a headache, and is a third-wheel.

He grinds his teeth, looks around to distract himself while the two lovebirds across from him snuggle it up in the dingy-ass booth like it's the finest linen in the country. There's no one worth paying attention to. Pretty women are all over, lining up the walls and dressed in—what could be considered clothing, if one was feeling generous. Shizuo can recognize their appeal, but he doesn't want to strike up a conversation with any of them because...what would he even say? Besides, he doesn't think he'll meet the love of his life in a place like this. People always say it happens when you aren't looking.

There isn't a band playing tonight. Sometimes local bands get gigs here, and Shizuo wishes there was one on stage to distract himself with, but instead electronic music is blaring, the lights are dim, and the bar is so packed that Shizuo doubts he could get another drink without standing there like an asshole for a few minutes. He sighs heavily, tongues his teeth, considers throwing the table into the dancing crowd, decides against it. He looks up when he hears his name being called.

“What?” he asks, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

“I said you don't look like you're having fun!” Shinra says, leaning over the table to holler into Shizuo's face. Shizuo throws a balled up bar napkin at him.

“I wonder why the fuck that is,” Shizuo huffs, crossing his arms and leaning back into the booth.

“I'm sorry. You can go if you want to. I know this evening didn't turn out how I described.” Despite just being text on a screen, Shizuo can feel the emotion in Celty's words, and he knows her tone would be apologetic if he could hear it.

“It's fine, I just— It's loud.”

“It's a bar!” Shinra shouts. If Shizuo is tipsy, Shinra must be wasted, and he's certainly getting more handsy with Celty than Shizuo would like to be witness to.

“No shit.”

“Really, Shizuo, you can go! We probably will soon too. Shinra is an awful drunk, he's likely to cause a scene soon.” Celty's screen is almost too bright in this low light. Shizuo considers his options. What the fuck else is he going to do, sit here for another hour? Watch the scantily dressed women turn down advances from desperate men? He could even go into the graffiti-laden bathroom, if he was feeling adventurous.

Going home really is the most appealing option. It's not his fault no one else came. Shizuo should have been smart and ditched as well, seeing as Shinra only ever wants alone time with Celty anyway. Besides, the wings were too greasy, and Shizuo is pretty sure he has leftover yakitori in his fridge from overestimating his appetite two days earlier. Worst case, he'll just eat some ice cream and call it a night. It sounds above and beyond what he's currently doing.

He's getting ready to say he's on his way out when a scent catches his attention. A familiar scent. His fingers grip the table, cracking the wood underneath as his eyes scan the crowd. Surely Shinra didn't invite Izaya, right? This was supposed to be a friendly gathering, and there's nothing friendly about that parasitic fucker. But—no. Shinra wouldn't have done that. Shinra knows better. But as Shizuo watches Shinra drunkenly slosh whatever the fuck is in that glass down the front of his shirt, he wonders is Shinra actually knows anything at all.

It takes longer than it normally would for Shizuo to locate Izaya. There's a lot of people in here for one, and for another, Izaya isn't dressed in his usual attire. He ditched the coat, has opted for a short sleeved black T-shirt that appears to be artfully tucked in to some light gray plaid slacks that are rolled up around the ankles. Shizuo has never understood that “rolling up” bullshit. Why buy pants if you have to do that to make them fit? Just wear shorts if you want them shorter! And of course Izaya would be one of the idiots indulging in the trend. Of fucking course. Shizuo grinds his teeth, prepares for a fight, but Izaya...isn't alone?

A tall, well-dressed man is guiding Izaya through the crowd, a hand settled between Izaya's bony shoulder-blades. They settle at an empty table by the bar, and Shizuo watches with the impossible realization that Izaya didn't come here for him.

For some reason, Shizuo feels sick to his stomach. He blames the shitty wings.

Izaya already has a drink in his hand, and so does the well-dressed asshole. They're talking, and Shizuo can see Izaya smiling, laughing at whatever the hell is being said. Well-Dressed reaches across the table, touches his fingers to Izaya's, and Izaya pulls his hand back, makes a playful admonishing gesture before resting his chin in his hand and giving a sultry gaze back to the man.

“What are you looking at?” Shinra asks suddenly, and Shizuo tears his eyes away from Izaya's pouty lips. So Shinra has no idea Izaya is here? That means Izaya really is here with someone for...a date?

It doesn't sit well with Shizuo. At all.

“I need a drink,” Shizuo says, downing the rest of his and standing so quickly it rattles the table. He hurries to the bar, settles at the corner, not really caring how long it takes for the bartender to get to him because that's not why he came over here. It's very loud with everyone talking over the thrumming music, but Shizuo focuses on as much as he can on what Izaya is talking about.

He has to make sure Izaya isn't scheming something, right? The guy he's with could be bad news. They could be planning trouble.

“—glad you could come out with me, Izaya-san.” Well-Dressed's voice is deep, and apparently he's on a first name basis with Izaya. Shizuo turns his head a bit to see the guy's fingers have once again settled over Izaya's.

“Your choice of venue is...surprising,” Izaya says, taking a sip from his drink. “It's not usually where I conduct my business, but I'm always up for a change of scenery.”

“Come now, surely you know this isn't just a meeting,” Well-Dressed says. “You came here looking absolutely gorgeous, after all. Did you dress up for me?”

Shizuo grinds his teeth, forces himself to stop so he can keep listening.

“Ahaha! Well, I never reveal my secrets, you know? You said to wear whatever I wanted.” Izaya takes another sip. “I'm glad to know you find it appealing.”

“I do. I do. You always look amazing, Izaya-san, but you look especially so when you're here just for me.”

“Now, now, Touma-san. You're being very touchy. If you start too forward too fast, you'll burn out soon.”

“Oh? Do we have plans later?” Well-Dressed, Touma-san, asks.

“Who's to say? The night is young, after all. I'm only suggesting you pace yourself. If you pass out, I'm certainly not going to feel pity for you,” Izaya says.

“How cruel!” Touma laughs, downing his drink in one go. “I like that about you, Izaya-san. I promise I'll be coherent for whatever you want me for later.”

“A bold promise,” Izaya says, following Touma's lead and drinking the remainder of his glass. “Who knows what I could want? It's a risk you're taking.”

“I'm a gambling man,” Touma all but purrs. Shizuo tastes bile in the back of his throat.

“Can I help you?”

Shizuo looks up to see the bartender is in front of him at last.

“Uh, yeah, I'll just...have a beer,” Shizuo says absently, still trying to focus on Izaya.

“What kind?” The bartender asks, sounding impatient. Shizuo hears Izaya laugh again, feels insane with the need to know why.

“I don't care! Anything!” Shizuo snaps, and then quieter he adds, “I'm sorry, no, just— Your choice, your favorite. It's my last of the night, so surprise me.”

The bartender goes off to do just that, leaving Shizuo back to his eavesdropping. A new voice has joined the two, and Shizuo turns a bit to see a woman hovering around the table, chatting it up with Izaya.

“Thank you for your patience!” she's saying, a tray in her hand. “It's so crazy tonight! But we expected it, right? What can I get for you?”

“I'll take another Macallan, rocks. And you, Izaya-san? I'm treating you, of course.”

“Here you go,” the bartender says as he returns, setting a glass of beer in front of Shizuo. “Do you want to try it first?”

“No thanks, that's great,” Shizuo says, fishing some money out of his pocket. He can always force Shinra to pay him back later. Speaking of Shinra, Shizuo should probably go check back in with Celty. But then how will he know what's going on with Izaya?

Shizuo sighs, tastes the beer. It's good.

What's he even doing here? He didn't want to come out at all, and now he's spying on Izaya, who is obviously not plotting anything, and just wants to fuck this douchey Touma guy later. Shizuo doesn't know why that bothers him so much, but it does, it does, and the fact that it does pisses Shizuo off to no end because he can't figure out why it would.

He should just go home. Finish this beer, say his goodbyes, go home, sleep off these weird, drunken feelings. He decides to do that, but first, he looks over at the couple one more time when he hears the waitress return.

She's very pretty, and she seems to think Izaya is either also pretty or nice or maybe both, because she strikes a conversation with him, a small flush on her face, and Izaya is nothing but pleasant in his responses. Shizuo growls at the thought, because she doesn't even know Izaya, and maybe this Touma guy doesn't either, maybe Izaya is the problem, so Shizuo looks at Touma just in time to see the glimpse of Touma's hand over Izaya's glass before quickly retreating and—

And.

“Fuck,” Shizuo says, realizing what it is he just saw. He considers his options, puts a hand in his hair and yanks. What the hell is he supposed to do in this situation?! Since when should he be the one to save Orihara Izaya?! “That fucker can handle himself. And if not, he'd deserve it. This whole thing is fucking—stupid, ugh, I'm pissed off,” Shizuo mutters to himself, drawing a few looks from those around him. Angrily, he chews the inside of his cheek. “It's not my problem. It's not like I wanted to be here or see that. Nope. It's his own damn fault for going out with shady trash.”

“Are you...okay?” A man to his right asks.

“Fuck off,” Shizuo snaps, and the guy runs away. Shizuo turns again to Izaya, sees Izaya take a drink from the glass, and Shizuo doesn't think, can't think as he marches towards Izaya's table, clearing a path through the crowd by shoving and not caring who gets mad about it.

“Shizu-chan!” Izaya almost shouts, and Shizuo takes one second to wonder how drunk Izaya is already before he yanks Touma out of his chair by his collar. “What a surprise.”

“You know this clown?!” Touma sputters, and Shizuo snarls at him, lifts his feet right off the ground.

“He's an old friend,” Izaya says with a grin, and Shizuo is too late to stop Izaya from taking another long sip of the drink, but Shizuo does manage to reach back and slap it out of his hand before anymore damage is done. “Well,” Izaya huffs. “That was just unnecessary.”

“This fucker put something in your drink!” Shizuo snarls first to Izaya, and then he shakes Touma back and forth, makes the bastard's head bobble like a toy. “You think no one here would notice something like that, huh?! You think everyone is stupid? That I'm stupid?! Are you CALLING me STUPID?!”

Izaya observes the shattered glass on the floor, frowns, and looks up at Shizuo with an entirely bizarre expression. Izaya should be concerned, he should be pissed, he should be asking Shizuo to kill this worthless guy, but as it is, Izaya is only watching Shizuo with a dopey grin on his face, and then he stifles giggles behind his hands.

“Oh no!” Izaya says, seemingly unconcerned. “I'm in real danger now! I've really done it this time.”

“What the fuck—“ Shizuo starts, but he's distracted by Touma's fist connecting with his face.

“Actually,” Izaya lilts, “Touma-san has really done it this time.”

To Shizuo's credit, he only punches Touma once or twice before flinging him across the entire room. Touma collides with a wall, lands in a crumpled heap of limbs, and doesn't stand back up. Shizuo stands with his fists clenched, ignoring the shock of the crowd in favor of turning back to Izaya, who is—trying to flag down a waitress for more drinks.

“Izaya!” Shizuo snaps, slapping the table and making Izaya almost jump out of his own skin. Izaya grins and looks up at him, makes a real show of giving Shizuo his undivided attention.

“Yes?”

“Did you fucking hear me?! That guy drugged you! He put something in your glass and you drank it!” Shizuo shakes the table a bit more, but Izaya only laughs again.

“Yes, I heard, and that's very unfortunate. Nothing I can do about it now. Boo, Shizu-chan, I think you scared everyone away,” Izaya says with a pout.

Shizuo sees red.

“How are you not getting this?! Who the fuck knows what he gave you? Shouldn't you be—I don't know, scared? You need to go to the hospital before it kicks in!”

“Relax, would you? It was probably just a roofie. It wouldn't be the first time.” Izaya stands, stumbles a bit, and turns to face Shizuo with such a dramatic flair that Shizuo honestly wonders if Izaya will hit the ground. “Besides, why would you care? Shouldn't you be trying to kill me now?”

“I—“ Shizuo begins. He thinks of a lie, but that's bullshit anyway, and what does he care what Izaya thinks? “I won't fight you when you're like this. It wouldn't be fair, and I'm not sleazy and underhanded like you.”

“How noble of you,” Izaya says. “I'm very impressed. Remind me to send you a fruit basket later. Or...a tub of Milk Bones.” Izaya suddenly bursts into laughter, and Shizuo is so baffled he forgets to be angry. “Get it?! Because—it's a dog treat—and you love milk...!”

“How much have you had?” Shizuo asks. He never thought he'd see Izaya like this. Getting drunk together is something friends do, or strangers who have no reason to dislike each other yet. Seeing an enemy in this state is...otherworldly.

“Oh, I don't know. Touma-san was boring. Did you hear him? Hey, were you watching us?” Izaya's gaze sharpens, and Shizuo feels himself jolt to attention, but then Izaya is giggling again. “He was so uninteresting that I wanted to drink myself stupid!”

Shizuo hates to admit it, but he knows Izaya well enough to know this isn't like Izaya at all. Izaya is careful, quick, untouchable. Izaya allowing any of this to happen seems like an impossibility, and Shizuo is waiting for Izaya to pull a knife out and say, “just kidding!”

“That's really fucking stupid,” Shizuo says, and Izaya stops laughing as abruptly as he started.

“Well, you are an expert in stupidity.” Izaya sighs and then he turns on his heel, sways, rights himself before he tumbles over. “See ya, Shizu-chan. Remind me to thank you later!”

Shizuo reacts before he can think better of it. He reaches out and grabs Izaya's collar, yanks him backwards until he's falling, and then Shizuo picks him up under the armpits like Izaya is a diseased stray that might bite him.

“Shizu—! Put me down!” Izaya snaps, kicking his feet out in what very much resembles a tantrum.

“Shinra is here. You should go home with him so you don't die.”

“I don't want to go home with Shinra! I want to get another drink!”

“And you don't fucking NEED another drink, I-za-ya!”

“Like you care what I need! Why are you—ugh, put me down! If you aren't going to snap my neck, I don't want you anywhere near me!”

“As if I want to be— Wait. Why would you want me to snap your neck?!”

Shizuo's violence didn't do much in thinning the crowd. The place is still packed, and it takes a while to carry Izaya back to where Shizuo was sitting earlier with his friends, especially because Izaya is fighting against being carried. Of course, Shinra and Celty aren't there anymore. Why would anything be easy?

Izaya seems to have worn himself out. His limbs are hanging by his sides, and from what Shizuo can see, Izaya is pouting very openly.

“Fuck. They left already,” Shizuo hisses. He doesn't know how long he's been gone from the table, but he can't be mad at them for assuming Shizuo was already gone.

“Can you let me go now?” Izaya asks. Shizuo shakes him around violently, and the next thing Izaya says sounds like “Guh.”

Grumbling to himself, Shizuo carries Izaya out of the bar and into the chilly night air where it's quieter. Seeing Izaya silhouetted in the neon lights of the city is a much more familiar sight to Shizuo, but he can't pretend any of this is normal behavior for them. Izaya has resumed trying to kick him, and based on Izaya's increasing giggles, Shizuo can tell Izaya is still drunk as shit.

“You know, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says in a whimsical voice, “if you hadn't thrown Touma-san across the bar and let him crawl away to safety, we could have asked what he gave me.”

“I didn't think about asking him anything. He deserved to bleed.”

“You rarely think, so I suppose I can't blame you. Just let me call a cab home! I'd much rather pass out in my own bed.”

“Shut the fuck up a minute, flea,” Shizuo growls, pulling his phone out of his pocket and selecting Shinra from his contacts. He holds Izaya by his collar now. “If he says you can go home and die, you can go home and die.” As much as Shizuo would love for Izaya to suffer, Izaya being drugged and left to die isn't something Shizuo can let himself live with.

If anyone is going to kill Izaya, it's going to be Shizuo. Shizuo is the only one who's earned it, and if Izaya doesn't stop kicking him, Izaya is going to die tonight for another reason than drugs.

“Shizuo-kun!” Shinra's voice fills his ear suddenly. “We couldn't find you! You went home, right?”

“No. Listen, Izaya is here—“

“Izaya-kun? Oh... Um, Shizuo-kun, I'm really not someone who hides bodies...”

“Shut up, it's not that! I saw Izaya get drugged, and I need to know if he can go home!”

“Drugged?” Shinra sounds...very unconcerned. Why the hell is Shizuo the only one taking something like this seriously? “Well. Is he conscious?”

“Yes.”

“Vomiting? Is he cognizant? Does his heart seem fine?”

“He's—the same as always. He's drunk, but he's not acting anything other than drunk. Hang on...” Shizuo shakes Izaya a bit. “Is your heart fine?”

“How would I know that?” Izaya asks as he dangles.

“You should be the first to know if it wasn't!” Shizuo hisses. Izaya's collar twists in his hand, and Izaya turns enough to face him, a deadpan expression on his face.

“Clearly it's beating,” Izaya says slowly, like he's talking to an infant. “I can't say whether that's good or bad, since it means I'm alive to suffer in your company.”

“He's as fine as he ever is,” Shizuo says into the phone, trying very hard to restrain the urge to throw Izaya as far as he can and see if Izaya skips like a stone.

“It was probably something to make him lose consciousness. The biggest concern will be making sure he doesn't choke to death on his own vomit, but he should be fine,” Shinra says.

“Okay, then I'll bring him to your place so you can monitor him,” Shizuo says, and he balks as Shinra laughs outright into his ear.

“Oh, no, I don't want him here. Celty and I have plans.” Shinra's tone suggests all kinds of things Shizuo doesn't want to think about.

“Plans can be put on hold!” Shizuo snaps, and he hears Izaya sigh heavily.

“My Celty can never be put on hold! Besides, I'm incredibly drunk myself. I can't monitor anyone properly. You could take him to the hospital, but otherwise, there's nothing else I can do or suggest.”

“You—what?!” Shizuo is left speechless as Shinra hangs up on him, leaving him alone in dealing with Izaya, who Shizuo doesn't even like.

“Well,” Izaya says, “that was certainly a helpful conversation. You have the best ideas, Shizu-chan.”

“What the fuck, he just— Has everyone gone crazy but me?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya laughs.

“Aw, is this the first time Shinra has chosen Celty over you? It's okay, you get used to it,” Izaya says. “Now then, you heard him. I'll be fine! I'm sure you can sleep much easier at night knowing I'm alive and well and plotting your demise.”

“Fuck you, he said you needed monitoring. I'm dropping you off at the hospital.”

“They won't accept me as a patient if I don't want to go,” Izaya says. “Besides, I'm beginning to doubt you saw anything at all. Maybe you just wanted to ruin my date! Pettiness is unflattering.”

Shizuo sees red, shoves Izaya against a wall and sees a flash. He finds himself wrenching a knife out of Izaya's hand before he tosses it to the side and glares into Izaya's stupid smug face.

“Yeah? And look where your date got you! Here, with me, because no one gives a shit about you or whether you die! How's that feel, I-za-ya? How's it feel to know if you didn't wake up tomorrow that no one but me would even notice?”

Izaya's eyes are wide, and if Shizuo didn't know what to look for, he'd honestly think Izaya didn't care. But Izaya looks baffled, and it takes just a few seconds too long for him to reply.

“It doesn't matter,” Izaya says, and Shizuo flattens him further into the wall.

“It matters. You think you can hide behind your stupid words and try to convince yourself you're above being scared, but I'm not buying it. I've never bought anything you've said, and I'm not starting to now. You wanna go home and die alone? Well guess what, even that's more than you deserve.” Shizuo lifts Izaya up again, starts walking towards his own apartment.

“Stop it— Shizu-chan, just put me down, I hate this! I hate you! If you take me inside your monster hovel, I'll destroy everything you own!”

“I don't own much,” Shizuo says. “And I know you hate me. I hate you, too. The best payback I can think of would be making you die in my company.”

Izaya pauses in his thrashing, chokes in a way that makes Shizuo worry he's about to be barfed on, but then Izaya is laughing loudly in a way Shizuo has never heard before. It's not forced or sarcastic or...asshole-ish like Izaya is. It's genuine.

“How cruel!” Izaya cackles. “I didn't think Shizu-chan could be so vindictive! You're right; that's about the worst fate there is!”

Shizuo could argue an even worse fate would be Izaya left in the hands of that Touma creep, unconscious and...

“Hey,” Shizuo says suddenly, unable to contain his curiosity. “That guy, do you think he was gonna kidnap you and kill you?”

Izaya scoffs. “No. He wasn't thinking with anything but his dick. He's been trying to fuck me for a while now, and ordinarily I wouldn't have even entertained him, but his boss is a good client of mine, and I thought Touma-san might be full of useful information. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't. He was boring and touchy.”

Shizuo grits his teeth at the idea. For once, Izaya's using of people isn't what Shizuo is angry about.

“That fucker,” Shizuo hisses. “Taking advantage of anyone like—that. It's lower than low, lower than dirt. I should've killed him.”

“Even if it was me?” Izaya asks. “He'd deserve death even if it was just me he was taking advantage of?”

“Shut up. No one deserves that, not even you.”

Izaya laughs again, but it's so bitter it makes Shizuo wince. “You really are cruel, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo doesn't ask for an elaboration. He doesn't think Izaya would be honest with him anyway, but then again, aren't people always saying drunken words are sober thoughts? What about roofied words? How the hell is Izaya still conscious anyway?

When he opens his door, he's happy to be out of the cold, and even happier to be home. Like this, it's easy to forget about Izaya, who is now draped across his back and...possibly unconscious? Izaya has been silent for an eerie length of time, and somehow Shizuo hasn't been stabbed yet.

He dumps Izaya onto the couch, and Izaya lands in a heap of limbs before immediately sitting upright and looking around, his face absolutely gleeful.

“Shizu-chan! Your place is a lot cleaner than I thought it would be! But then again, I assumed you slept hanging from the ceiling. Maybe you do? Your bedroom is this way, right?” Izaya asks as he rolls to his feet and starts towards Shizuo's room.

“Oi! Sit back down!” Shizuo hisses, yanking Izaya backwards and tossing him onto the couch. “This couch and my bathroom are all you have access to! If I see you anywhere near my room, I'm beating the fuck out of you.”

“Scary!” Izaya crosses his legs and grins up at Shizuo. “So then. Are we having a slumber party?”

“I'm waiting for you to pass out. Oh, also...” Shizuo goes to his fridge, pulls out his leftover food, and doesn't bother heating it up before devouring it. Izaya watches him with obvious fascination, and Shizuo hates the pinpricks he feels at knowing Izaya's keen gaze is on him.

“Do you want some water?” Shizuo asks, feeling like an alien in his own home.

“Well, it would probably help,” Izaya says. “Have you got any alcohol?”

“You don't need alcohol, you shitty fucking louse. You're fucked up enough.”

“I feel sober!” Izaya says, but his flushed face and swaying demeanor beg to differ. “Just the water then. The sooner I sober up, the sooner I can get away from you.”

Shizuo grits his teeth as he pours Izaya a glass of water, and when he stomps over to the couch, he shoves it at Izaya so forcefully that the water sloshes out of the glass and onto Izaya's chest.

“How are you gonna act high and mighty even when I'm doing you a favor? You should be fucking thankful that you aren't in a ditch somewhere!” Shizuo growls as Izaya frowns down at the water on his shirt.

“I never asked for your help,” Izaya says before he looks up and meets Shizuo's gaze. Ordinarily, Shizuo would be creeped out by Izaya's unnaturally red gaze, but as it is, Izaya just looks exhausted and maybe even scared. He's just too proud to let it show.

“Yeah? Well, you better be glad I gave it to you anyway. You could be out there getting—“ Shizuo pauses, huffs, and turns to go back to his food.

“Raped,” Izaya says, because he can never leave well enough alone. “I could be getting raped, is that what you wanted to say?”

“For fuck's sake, Izaya, shut the hell up and pass out already.”

Unsurprisingly, Izaya doesn't. He sips at his water and looks around before he tries to stand. Before Shizuo can even yell at him, Izaya stumbles backwards, misses the couch, and lands sprawled in the floor with the water glass completely emptied on him.

Sighing, Shizuo tosses the empty food box into the trash before he makes his way over to Izaya, who bristles visibly and narrow his eyes up at Shizuo as if daring him to say anything.

“You're a goddamn mess,” Shizuo says because Izaya needs to hear it, or maybe just because Shizuo likes needling him. Either way, Shizuo leans down and picks Izaya up again.

“I thought I wasn't allowed in your room...” Izaya says, his voice slurred and heavy with impending sleep. He's clearly fighting it with all he has, and Shizuo wonders just how many times Izaya has been drugged before.

“I'm chaperoning.” Shizuo shrugs and tosses Izaya on his bed before he tries to find dry clothes for Izaya's small, flea-like body. He has sweatpants with a string, so that'll work. As for shirts, he has plenty of T-shirts he wears on his off days, nothing fancy like Izaya is accustomed to, but if Izaya complains, Shizuo might just punch him.

When he turns to Izaya, he's surprised to see Izaya sitting up, though he looks far from cognizant. He's swaying, catching himself, and trying and failing to focus on Shizuo.

“Can you get undressed?” Shizuo asks him.

“Oooh... Shizu, how naughty...” Izaya says with a giggle, and then he's trying to tug his wet shirt over his head. It gets caught at his elbows, and Izaya rolls off the bed and into the floor with a resounding 'thunk'.

“Fucking flea... Stupid fucking drugged annoying ass flea,” Shizuo mutters to himself as he goes to Izaya and helps him up again. “Alright, lift your arms, you can do that much.” Izaya does, and Shizuo does his best to avert his eyes as he removes Izaya's shirt and helps him into the dry T-shirt.

“Smells good,” Izaya murmurs, and when Shizuo looks at him, Izaya is holding the collar of Shizuo's shirt to his nose and inhaling happily.

“What the fuck?” Shizuo asks, wondering what planet they're on.

“I said...you smell good,” Izaya says a little louder, glaring at Shizuo as if Shizuo has yanked this confession from him without permission.

“Okay? Take your pants off.”

Izaya pouts at him and shakes his head.

“Izaya! Take your—!” Shizuo yanks Izaya's hands away from the shirt collar and tries to make Izaya undo his pants, but Izaya merely stands there looking like he might cry. “What's wrong with you? I'm trying to undress you so you can sleep comfortably!”

“I hate you,” Izaya says with his usual ire, and then, inexplicably, his voice is breaking and he's hiding his face in Shizuo's giant T-shirt. “I hate Shizu-chan so much!”

“Yeah? Well I hate you right back!” Shizuo hisses, and he undoes Izaya's pants before yanking them down. His renewed anger makes it easier to ignore the fact he's undressing Izaya Orihara in his bedroom. “But even if you're fucking horrible and I don't want you here, I'd rather you be here than with some creepy douchebag, so help me out!”

“You should've left me! I'd be fine, I'm always fine!” Izaya is practically sobbing by this point, and Shizuo is helpless to do anything but watch Izaya cry with his pants halfway down his thighs. “You were right to say no one would care, so why should you? I don't want your pity!”

“Too bad,” Shizuo finds himself saying. “If you wanted it, I wouldn't give it to you. I hate people who want pity for the sake of being pitied. But right now...”

“You never do what I want,” Izaya says with a sniffle. This time, when Shizuo pushes Izaya gently towards the bed, Izaya allows it, and Shizuo is able to get the wet pants off and replace them with the sweatpants. Izaya is skinny, so Shizuo has to tie the strings as tightly as they'll go.

“There. Isn't that better?” Shizuo asks. He's always been pretty good with kids, which is exactly what a wasted Izaya is reminding him of. “You'll feel better when you sleep.”

“I'm not tired,” Izaya says, emerging from the shirt at last to show Shizuo his red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks.

“Right,” Shizuo says. “Well, when you are, it'll be better.” He almost laughs when Izaya nods very seriously, as of Shizuo is saying anything other than common sense. Shizuo tries to back away, but he finds one of his hands being held hostage by both of Izaya's. “Flea,” he says warningly, not trusting Izaya to not have a hidden knife on him somewhere.

“Your hand is one big—callus,” Izaya announces. He turns Shizuo's hand over and examines it. “You should moisturize.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Shizuo mumbles, trying again to pull away, but Izaya seems like he might cry again if Shizuo does.

“Isn't it weird...” Izaya says, and then he's just holding Shizuo's hand, looking up at Shizuo with his watery gaze. “You're like a regular person like this. A human.”

“I am a human,” Shizuo snaps, not ready to hear Izaya's usual spiel about Shizuo being an unlovable monster.

Izaya just nods and looks down again at their joined hands. “I love humans,” he says, and then he sniffles again. “But humans don't love me.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo sighs. “You need to sleep. You'll hate that you said all this in the morning.”

“I'll be unhappy either way!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo wonders where the hell this is going, or if he's ever actually...had a conversation with Izaya before? He doesn't think so, at least not one where they weren't actively trying to antagonize or kill each other. It's weird to be in Izaya's space, to smell his scent, to be able to see his eyelashes. Shizuo wishes he was drunker than he is, and then he remembers to mourn the full beer he left at the bar.

“You can't pretend like you don't know why people hate you. You've given them every reason to.” Shizuo's gaze is hard as Izaya meets his eyes. “You know that.”

“Why is it so wrong to want to see the worst parts of people? Isn't that what love is—to see those parts, the parts they want to keep hidden, and love them anyway? Can you say you love someone if you aren't willing to accept the worst of them?” Izaya asks, his grip tightening on Shizuo. “I love all those things! I love them, and everyone looks at me like I'm a monster! And then, you! You have so much love and you don't even deserve it!” Izaya finally lets Shizuo go, throws his hand away like it's poisoned.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shizuo asks, genuinely feeling more confused than angry. “Tricking people into revealing what they hate about themselves just to use it against them won't ever get you anywhere. Aren't you supposed to be some kind of genius? How could you think that would work?”

“Nothing works anyway,” Izaya says. “You hated me before I even did anything to you, after all. Wasn't it nice of me to give you actual reasons?”

Shizuo frowns, thinking back to the day Shinra introduced them. Izaya was beside Shinra, clapping at the violence Shizuo exhibited, and Shizuo thought to himself that Izaya was making fun of him, or worse, that he liked violence when Shizuo himself hated it and couldn't escape it. Shizuo admits to himself, and has for a long time, that his hatred of Izaya wasn't justified at first. But in the end, he thinks it was instinctual, and he just knew Izaya was up to no good.

“As if you care what I think,” Shizuo says. He's ready to get out of this room. Izaya can have the bed, he doesn't even care. He's just ready to get Izaya sober and out of here.

“I do care,” Izaya says softly, and Shizuo feels his brow furrowing in disbelief.

“God, how drunk are you?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya grins.

“Very. I'm being honest with you, after all.” He reaches again for Shizuo's hand, and Shizuo debates only for a few moments before letting him have it. What's the harm? Izaya likely won't remember any of this, and keeping him complacent is in Shizuo's best interest if either of them are going to get sleep tonight.

“So you care what I think? And that means you get to try to ruin my life and get me killed all the time?” Shizuo asks as he watches Izaya drunkenly play with his fingers.

“Not all the time,” Izaya says with a pout. “I just like your attention.”

“My attention?”

Izaya laughs, traces one of Shizuo's calluses with smooth fingers. “Wasn't it effective?”

“...Go the fuck to sleep, Izaya.” Shizuo still has a headache, but now he thinks it has less to do with loud noises and the alcohol he consumed earlier and more to do with Izaya being a weirdo. He remembers now why talking to Izaya is impossible. It's all riddles and lies and bullshit. It's much easier to just try to kill him.

“Do you think I'm lying to you?” Izaya asks.

“I know you are.” Shizuo glares as Izaya kicks his legs out, narrowly missing Shizuo.

“I'm not! I just—“ He pauses before a wicked grin spreads across his face, and Shizuo's hackles rise. He keeps his eyes peeled for the glint of a knife. “I never thanked you for saving me, did I?”

“As if you'd be sincere,” Shizuo says.

“I'll give Shizu-chan something! Something he's never had.”

“I don't want—“ Shizuo is suddenly yanked forward by Izaya, who is exhibiting more strength than he should have, but Shizuo has no time to think or say anything before he feels the softness of Izaya's mouth against his own.

It's impossibly gentle. Shizuo has never kissed anyone before, but before his mind can catch up with who he's kissing, he feels Izaya's hands thread through his hair, feels Izaya shift and move closer, and when Shizuo curls his fingers in Izaya's collar to throw him against the wall, he feels himself instead pulling Izaya closer, chasing after the softness of Izaya's lips when Izaya begins to pull back.

“Mm,” Izaya hums, licking his own lips. “How's that for sincerity?”

“Izaya—you...” Shizuo's mind catches up rapidly with what happened, and he feels anger he's never felt before overtake him. “What the fuck!”

“I can't be blamed for it being subpar, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says absently. “Kiss me when I'm sober, I'll make it up to you.” He crawls under the covers, clearly not the least bit worried about Shizuo or his wrath. “I'm sleepy now.”

Shizuo roars with rage, worries about the neighbors, and then gets even angrier. He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he flops face-first into the couch, screaming into the cushions.

Fucking Izaya. In the morning, Shizuo is going to be as loud as possible, is going to torture a severely hungover flea, and then he's going to make Izaya wish he'd never been born. After that, he's going to beat the fuck out of Shinra for leaving this situation up to him. As it is, he realizes he has to make sure Izaya isn't sleeping on his back, because he needs Izaya to be alive in the morning to torture.

Shizuo slips back inside the room to find Izaya is curled on his side, his face buried in Shizuo's pillow. Shizuo grimaces as he considers sleeping on the floor. After the night he's had, he convinces himself he deserves to sleep in his own bed, and if Izaya has a problem with that, Izaya can fuck right off to Hell where he belongs.

Shizuo maintains as much distance between them as he can as he settles into the bed, but Izaya doesn't move at all and is clearly dead to the world. Shizuo relaxes and comforts himself with thoughts of vengeance in the morning, and is finally able to fall asleep.

The first thing Shizuo notices when he jerks awake is that he doesn't think he's slept much at all. The room is still pitch black aside from the light flooding under the door from the bathroom. The second thing he notices is that Izaya is gone, and there's an awful retching noise coming from the next room. Sighing, Shizuo gets up, and he finds Izaya throwing up violently into the toilet, but thankfully, there isn't vomit anywhere else, so at least Izaya made it this far.

“I hoped...” Izaya rasps, “that it was a dream...and I wasn't really here...”

“Yeah,” Shizuo says. He winces as the vomiting continues. He heads to the kitchen, grabs Izaya another glass of water, and then he picks up his cigarettes and goes back to the bathroom, setting the glass beside Izaya before sitting down on the floor near him and leaning against the wall of the bathroom doorway.

“What are you doing?” Izaya asks weakly. “This is gross enough without you seeing it.”

“Barf doesn't bother me,” Shizuo says as he lights his cigarette. “Kasuka used to get sick a lot. He didn't like being by himself.”

“So you...sat with him while he vomited?” Izaya asks with a weak laugh.

“No, dipshit. I sat with him afterwards, but it's not like you'll be done anytime soon.”

Izaya looks like he wants to argue, but then he's retching once more, and Shizuo shakes his head as he takes a deep drag on his cigarette.

“I guess this is revenge enough for you ruining my night,” Shizuo says. “I might still punch you later, though.”

“That would be fair,” Izaya says softly. He folds his arms over the seat of the toilet, rests his head in them, and adds, “I'm so glad your bathroom is clean.”

“As if you could complain if it wasn't.”

“Oh, I don't know. I'm good at complaining.”

Shizuo snorts and reaches over to pet Izaya's back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Kasuka used to appreciate it. If Izaya minds, he doesn't say so.

“I don't suppose you have a spare toothbrush?” Izaya asks after a few silent minutes. Shizuo frowns.

“No. I don't usually have people over.”

“Mouthwash?” Izaya prompts, and Shizuo shifts to look through his cabinet under the sink, putting his cigarette in his mouth to free his hands.

“I have this kind,” Shizuo says before handing Izaya the bottle.

“This is the alcohol free version,” Izaya notes with a clear look of distaste.

“I don't like the burning.”

“The burning is how you know it's working.”

“Use it and shut the hell up!” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya sighs before doing just that. He spits into the tub and then settles back with a groan, using his foot to flush the toilet.

“I should probably get going soon,” Izaya mutters.

“Are you okay now?”

“Well, I'm as sober as I'm going to get tonight. I'm more concerned about the massive hangover I have coming my way. I doubt either of us wants me trapped here all day—“

“Hey,” Shizuo says, almost interrupting Izaya, who glares at him for it. “How often does this happen to you?”

“The drugging? Only once before.” Izaya sips at the water Shizuo got for him.

“Did...anything happen?” Shizuo asks warily.

“I don't know. It was a long time ago.”

Shizuo's expression must speak volumes, because Izaya sighs before continuing.

“I met with a client about locating someone. The story sounded far-fetched to begin with, but he was offering a lot of money, and he seemed so ordinary that I didn't think about anything happening. When he offered me tea, I drank it. And then I woke up in an alleyway outside my apartment building the next day.”

“Flea...”

“I went to the hospital and they said it didn't look like...that had happened. But other things could have.” Izaya sips again at the water. “It doesn't matter. He's dead now, and I'm still alive.”

“So that means you won or something?” Shizuo asks warily.

Izaya shrugs. “Sure. But I wasn't the one who killed him. I didn't even have a hand in it, if you believe that. Turns out he killed someone's daughter, and her father was pretty high up in the Russian mafia. He got what he deserved, in the end. If anything it was my own fault for underestimating him and not looking into him further.”

“Something like that isn't your fault!” Shizuo snaps, and when Izaya grins at him, he feels his anger rising. “It's not, okay, that's victim blaming bullshit, and if he did something to you, it's because he was fucked up and it's not to do with you!”

“But Shizu-chan,” Izaya says playfully, “I thought everything wrong was to do with me.”

“Fuck you,” Shizuo says. “This is different.”

“Unfortunately, things like that happen and will always happen. I'm usually more careful about meeting people, but foolishly I believed Touma-san wouldn't try anything in public. I suppose it could have ended up a lot worse.”

“No shit,” Shizuo says.

“And this time, I didn't wake up all alone, after all.”

Shizuo looks to Izaya, expecting him to have a playful grin or a teasing leer, but as it is, Izaya is gazing down into his water glass thoughtfully.

“I suppose I said...things. I hope you can pretend I never said them,” Izaya says.

“How much do you remember?” Shizuo asks.

“Enough to be embarrassed. I'm sure that's pleasing for you.”

“You kissed me.”

Izaya makes a choking noise that would be comical if he didn't look so mortified. Shizuo knows he isn't imagining the blush spreading across Izaya's cheeks.

“Ah, okay, we can ignore that, if you want. I was drunk.”

“Fuck that,” Shizuo says. “That was my first kiss, asshole. Take responsibility. It wasn't even good.”

Izaya chokes again, with laughter this time, and Shizuo grins back at him stupidly. What a night it's been.

“I'm afraid I can't remedy that right now unless you want to kiss me when I just threw up,” Izaya says, and his smile is so genuine that Shizuo can't look away from it.

“Wouldn't taste much worse than the first time,” Shizuo says, and Izaya laughs again.

“How cruel! Okay, I deserve that. You really are getting in all your jokes now. I thought for sure you'd draw them out a while to torture me more.”

“I will. Pretty sure that was all I had.” Shizuo flicks his cigarette into the sink and runs water over it before standing and offering a hand to Izaya. “C'mon. You can sleep here and leave tomorrow.”

“You want me to be gross here all day?” Izaya asks, looking at Shizuo's hand much like he did the night before, with wonder.

“I'll take my chances.”

Izaya takes Shizuo's hand, and Shizuo leads him back to the bed. Neither of them comments on Shizuo flopping back beside him. Someone has to make sure Izaya doesn't choke to death on vomit still, even now. Shizuo doesn't trust that it's over, and clearly Izaya isn't taking it seriously.

He falls asleep much easier than he did the first time, and he wakes once to find he's tossed an arm over Izaya and nestled behind him. Blearily, he thinks to himself that Izaya's scent isn't bad, especially when it's mixed together with his own. He doesn't move, and he falls back into unconsciousness with the bite of Izaya's scent sharp on his tongue.

When he wakes again, Izaya is gone.

***

“Really, I was impressed, Shizuo-kun! I thought for sure when you called and said you were with Izaya-kun that you would kill him!”

Shizuo is at Shinra's and Celty's place, politely drinking tea while Celty goes off on Shinra for not telling her about what was happening that night. Shizuo knows she'll forgive Shinra. She always does.

“Have you checked on him? Izaya?” Shizuo asks, interrupting them. They both turn to him.

“Not since it happened. Izaya-kun will be fine. He's always fine.”

Something about that statement infuriates him, and when he stands, his teacup hits the floor, shattering as he advances on Shinra.

“What the fuck kind of friend are you?! He was drugged, could have been raped and killed, and you were so focused on having Celty that you didn't give a shit?! That's wrong. It's so fucking wrong! No one is fine after that!”

“Shizuo, please calm down!” Celty's PDA pleads with him, but he barely glances at it.

“I'd punch your face in, but you wouldn't understand why I was doing it,” Shizuo spits at Shinra, shoving him once, but even that's enough to make Shinra topple backwards. “I'm sorry,” he says to Celty. “But he shouldn't think what he did was okay.”

He leaves before they can say anything else to him, also before he can do more damage, and he doesn't even know why he cares so much. Izaya is awful, has ruined so many lives, including Shizuo's. But when he thinks back to all the shitty things, he sees Izaya's crying face as clear as day, feels the depth of that loneliness, because he's felt that way before too, like an outsider looking in no matter what he tries. And sure, it doesn't excuse or forgive anything, but after seeing an actual human side of Izaya, it's impossible to pretend he doesn't care at all.

His feet carry him home, and he's surprised to look up and see Izaya standing outside his door, a paper bag in hand.

“Ah, I hoped you'd still be out,” Izaya says, and he holds the bag up. “Your clothes. I washed them. I thought it was the least I could do.”

“Thanks,” Shizuo says, feeling dumb as he takes the bag. He can't stop staring at Izaya, who looks as he always does, infuriatingly smug and not a hair out of place.

“Right. Well, we can put this behind us now! Next time I see you, I'll fully expect you to be trying to bash my head in.” Izaya smirks at him before trying to walk around him, and Shizuo finds himself grabbing Izaya's coat sleeve.

“Wait. You still haven't accepted responsibility,” Shizuo blurts, and Izaya gazes up at him confusedly.

“About— oh. What would you like me to do? Let you punch me?”

“No, I already almost punched Shinra just now. I think punching is starting to lose its luster.” Shizuo keeps hold of Izaya, tries and fails to think of how to articulate what he wants. He isn't good with words, never has been, but for once in his life, Izaya being so damn perceptive comes in handy.

“I see. So then, would you accept dinner? On me, of course, to make up for my many transgressions.” Izaya's wearing that smile again, the real one, and Shizuo finds himself laughing.

“There isn't enough money in the world to buy enough food that you'd need for that,” Shizuo says, and his grip on Izaya morphs into something less harsh until it's more of a gentle touch on Izaya's arm than anything else.

“It might take a few dinners,” Izaya says, nodding in agreement.

“More than a few.”

“Well then,” Izaya says, turning and reaching behind himself to tug on Shizuo. “Shall we?”

[pandas-pandemonium]

Seventeen Reacting to Someone Flirting with their S/O

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (final)

Part 2 is finally out! Hopefully I can get the last part out within the next few days. Also each members part may get a little bit shorter each time because collectively I’ve written more than 3k lol.

Kwon Soonyoung

Soonyoung was the sort of person who wore his emotions on his sleeve, sort of. Maybe he never intends to, but it was always easy to tell when something upset the boy; especially when he goes quiet around you, someone he’s supposed to comfortable with. Thankfully, it was always easy enough to soothe his feelings and in no time, he’d be back to his jovial, bubbly self. Fortunately, his moods only came around once in a while. However, it just so happened, today was one of those ‘once-in-a-while’ moments.

You never really intended to make him jealous really, but the man in front of you just would not give up trying to get your number. After who-knows-how-long, you were close to just snapping at the flirt. It really was no use trying to be nice and polite with clueless people like him. Just as you were about to snap however, your lovely boyfriend came in and dealt a hefty right hook on the guy, leaving you stunned for a moment.

“Can you take a hint and leave my girlfriend alone?!” yelled Soonyoung, his cheeks red in anger. In any other situation, you would think he looked really cute, but you could feel the rage seething from his body.

“Honestly! You keep going on and on and on about her giving you a chance but she said that she has a boyfriend you idiot!” At this point, Soonyoung was fuming. It was the worst case scenario ever, you truly did not ever want this man’s rage directed towards you ever.

“Ho-Soonyoung-ah, leave the guy alone…I’m sure he’s learned his lesson,” you said, tugging at his yellow sweater sleeve, trying to pull the taller male away from the other guy’s body on the floor. Soonyoung wasn’t hitting him sure, but he was shouting angry insults which was drawing a crowd.

Your boyfriend turned towards you, his face still a bright red.

“You’re not defending him, are you?” he asked, mouth agape and in shock. Quickly you shook your head.

“Of course not! It’s just that your shouting is drawing a lot of attention…” you mention, gesturing to the curious crowd of people that had surrounded the three of you. Immediately, your boyfriend flushed pink again.

“A-ah. Whoops…I guess I went too far. Yeah, l-let’s go!” he said, grabbing your wrist and hurrying out of the crowd, pushing through the wall of people as he ran with you trailing behind.

Once you reached a quieter part of town, he finally let go of your hand, allowing you to speak.

“Soonyoung-ah, what was that all about? You don’t normally get this mad,” you said. The taller male sighed, looking down sheepishly.

“Honestly…I was watching from afar. I wasn’t sure if I should intervene, but that guy’s last remark really got to me you know. Something about you deserving a better man and all,” he explained. You sighed, pulling the man into your arms.

“Oh please, Hoshi. You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. There’s no one better than you, okay?” you said with a small smile, in hopes of lifting up his spirits. Sure enough, it worked, and your smiling hamster of a boyfriend was back.

Jeon Wonwoo

You had just finished work at the cat café and Wonwoo was waiting by the front to pick you up. Although you had told him many times previously that it wasn’t necessary, he continued doing it. You soon got used to it and so did your co-workers. Wonwoo waiting by the front every day at 8pm soon became a normal occurrence and it was clear to everyone, even if you didn’t mention it, that you were both dating. It just so happened today of all days however, that a rather gutsy newbie at work tried to pick you up in front of Wonwoo, completely ignorant of the fact that he was your boyfriend.

“Hey, um, [L/N]-seonbaenim* …Thanks for showing me the ropes today. I was hoping we could head back after work together?” The boy asked. He was just a little younger than you, and honestly, not a bad person from your short experience of working with him for less than six hours. Before you could get a word out though, Wonwoo had gotten off his seat and headed to the counter where you two were.

“I’m sorry, but she’s got a boyfriend,” he said, his sharp gaze targeted at the shorter male. The boy’s eyes widened and his eyes flickered between the two of you.

“O-oh?” he stuttered out. “You have a boyfriend, sunbae? Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, surprise evident in his voice. You sighed and nodded.

“Yes, I’m sorry Ryujin-ssi. But you were bound to find out sooner or later,” you explained. You could see the frustration and disappointment on the younger boy’s face, but you weren’t sure how to comfort him.

Just then, Wonwoo sighed, “It’s getting late, [Y/N].” He then directed his gaze to the rejected newbie and spoke, “Listen bud, I think it’ll do you well to be more aware of your surroundings next time, and not make moves on someone’s girl in front of her boyfriend.”

Ryujin pouted, looking away in embarrassment. You let out a sigh, moving away a stray hair out of your face before speaking.

“Sorry to let you down, Ryujin-ssi,” you said, before you gathered your belongings and awkwardly came out from behind the counter. Once the two of you were out to nudged Wonwoo gently with your elbow. “What was that? You could have been nicer to him,” you reprimanded. Wonwoo averted his gaze and huffed.

“Sorry, I was growing impatient,” he said. Rolling your eyes, you thanked him anyways. At least he got you out of an uncomfortable situation quickly. You could only hope no other new workers will make the same mistake.

*seonbae-nim: honorific for someone of a senior position/class/have done a job longer than you

Lee Jihoon 

(A/N: This was kinda different as I was running out of situations)

Jihoon was a man of few words, and often times he expressed himself and his feelings better with his music. Although it was a little difficult at times for the two of you to talk about your feelings, you knew you could always look forward to a new composition or a paper slipped under the door with lyrics to a future song, describing his emotions and his love for you. Some may find it sappy, but you thought it was romantic. At the end of the day, you were both fine with it as long as he got his feelings through, and yours to him.

However, the past the few months had been lacking in face-to-face communication time, as he had been away on multiple overseas trips, working with celebrities to produce hit albums. It was when he managed to secure a single day that you remembered exactly why the two of you held frequent communication sessions. Your date together was going smoothly despite the occasional cat calls and men trying to make a move when you were alone. Little did you know how affected Jihoon was, seeing his girlfriend having to turn down or ignore so many scumbags who didn’t know how to read body language.

The two of you were seated in front of his TV in his apartment when he finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry.” The apology came unexpectedly, confusing you.

“Huh? What for?” You ask, turning to face him. The light haired man was looking away, a look of guilt on his face. 

“The date…I should have protected you better, but instead I always got there just when you handled everything yourself.”

Your face softened into a smile and reached over to hug your boyfriend. “What? That was it?” you asked, laughing a little. It only made the man blush a little, quietly shifting in your arms.

“Don’t laugh! I really felt upset! I mean, you’re pretty, gorgeous, sweet, everything a perfect partner could be! It was scary, I was wondering if you truly needed me…” he trailed off. Sighing, you sat up, turning your whole body towards him and taking both his hands into yours.

“Jihoon-ie, look at me. You’re VoBo, a genius producer, the sweetest boyfriend I could ever ask for. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of, okay? Also, without you, who can I use as a human pillow whenever we cuddle?” You ask, joking slightly, invoking a light chuckle from your partner. 

“Yeah, we all know you’d absolutely suffer without me around as your cuddle bud,” he replied, his gaze softening. “Thanks, I think I have a new song in my mind now. I’m gonna go to my studio first, ‘kay?” he said, quickly standing up before heading to his studio. 

A small smile crept on your lips.“Alright!” 

Xu Minghao

Minghao always liked to think he was very trusting of his partner, having absolute faith in her that she won’t cheat or anything like that. A good healthy relationship is based on trust and faith after all. So, it was quite a shock for him, and you as well, when he found himself yelling at some guy for flirting with you. He just couldn’t describe the feeling of anger in his chest when he saw some bastard try to hit on you when you were right next to him. You’re his girlfriend! Why couldn’t he see that? Was the scumbag really that oblivious? Or was he just ignoring Minghao on purpose? Either way, the dancer could care less. The damn bastard was hitting you and making you feel immensely uncomfortable, and that was unforgivable.

He was very close to swinging at the guy when he saw him put a grimy hand on your shoulder, but somehow, you managed to stop him in time.

“M-Myungho, please don’t cause a scene,” you whispered in his ear, your hand wrapped around his arm. Minghao’s eyes softened as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Right…it’s no use beating sense into such a dumbass anyway,” he said, just loud enough for the other man to hear him.

“Hey! What the hell did you call me you punk?” the man shouted, face flushed red with anger.

“Ahhh, it’s nothing. It’s just the truth, don’t worry. But, next time you try and make a move on my girl, I won’t hesitate to punch you in the face,” the lanky male said, a hint of mock in his voice. You sweat nervously, gosh, you really had to drag your boyfriend away from the stranger before an actual dogfight breaks out.

“Minghao~,” you dragged his name out, meeting your boyfriend’s eyes. “The movie’s gonna start soon,” you said, pouting slightly while tugging on his sleeve. Internally you hoped he got the message, and to your relief he did. The man beside you sighed, combing his fringe back with his free hand before nodding and turning away, leaving an angry and frustrated stranger fuming. While leaving the site, you didn’t notice your boyfriend glance over his back, shooting a piercing glare at the flirt.

Kim Mingyu

Often times you would say it’s easy to tell when your boyfriend, Mingyu was jealous. He was much like an overgrown puppy to you (and many others). See, Mingyu was the sort of person who thrived on your attention and affection, and when other people took that away from him, it irked him, badly. On occasions like that, the best action to take would be to smother him in hugs and kisses afterwards to get him out of his mood. You needn’t worry about him getting violent either, as most of the time, he would make light threats but you knew he would never actually hurt anyone. Thankfully these occasions were few and far between, but they still did occur on occasion.

Today was one of those rare occasions. See, some guy had come up to the two of you while you were both on a date. At first, he seemed like someone who just need directions to a shop he was supposedly meeting a friend at, but next thing you know, he was suggesting for you to come alone with him to “show him the way”. Of course, Mingyu did not take the man’s advances lightly, hurriedly pulling you back the moment the guy tried to pull you away from your boyfriend. The situation didn’t escalate any further than a few light threats and complaints from both sides, as your boyfriend’s height did most of the scaring-off. However, you were left to deal with the aftermath.

You were both in his apartment, silently eating dinner which he had cooked since he had claimed that the guy “ruined the outdoor atmosphere” and wanted to have some alone time indoors with you instead. Seeing as his place was nearer, you both adjourned there. The food was good, but the silent sulking wasn’t.

“What’s wrong, Gyu?” you asked. Even though he had cooked, he barely touched the food.

“Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Come on, Mingyu. You know I was just trying to be a nice local. I didn’t expect him to try and drag me,” you explained. Mingyu sighed.

“That’s not it… you could have been hurt. That’s what I’m upset about,” he said. A soft smile crept on your face as you gazed at the taller male lovingly. You then got off your seat, waltzing over behind your boyfriend’s seat and enveloping his bigger form in your smaller one.

“Sorry I worried you. But see! I’m perfectly fine, thanks to you,” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek. Mingyu blushed in response.

“A-alright, I see that! Now let me eat, [Y/N],” he stammered out, quickly shoving a spoonful of rice in his mouth, causing you to chuckle.

“Okay, okay. We’ll talk more about this after we’re done with lunch.”

Later that evening, the two of you spent the rest of the day cuddling on the sofa.

[inkstaineddove]

Turning Tables

Characters: Austria, Prussia; mentions of Germany and Hungary

Summary: Hearing Austria hasn't been doing well post World War I, Prussia travels to Vienna to see for himself. He works to handle the mess he discovers.

Vienna, 1919. Since the end of the Great War, Prussia had done his best to avoid Austria. While they'd both gone through a similar loss, the removal of a royal family they cherished, things remained tense between them. In all honesty, Prussia didn't want to hear it. He knew that if he'd see Austria then he'd be blamed for their losses. That sweet little Roderich would never want to go to war, that bloodthirsty tyrant to the north tricked him into it. Meanwhile, if they had been able to claim victory, Roderich would be bending over backwards to pat himself on the back for starting the damn thing. No, he'd much rather continue to hide out in Berlin, away from any sort of confrontation while Gilbert licked his wounds. But Europe loved her gossip. Prussia had known about the divorce before it happened, a fact he would deny if asked, and had celebrated it in October when the breakup seemed inevitable. He'd been so preoccupied with losing the war that he hadn't wasted a moment being concerned about how Roderich was taking it. And why should he? No matter what side they were on at the moment, he still wanted to see the Austrian face as much personal misery as possible. No, he only began to pay attention to it when he received a letter from one of Austria's old states informing him of how bad Roderich was handling everything. The letter had promised him a juicy show, something Gilbert would be able to relish in. If that was the case, then why was Gilbert so nervous? He shook his head, clearing his mind. It wasn't nerves, he was simply so excited for the main even that his mind shut off. He entered the home, surprised by how vacant it was without his staff. "Österreich, where are you hiding?"

Prussia followed the sound of a piano deeper into the home. What Austria was doing wasn't so much as making music but making noise. His fingers pounded furiously at the keys, releasing all his tension into the instrument. He stared intensely down at the ivory, as if he was daring at it to make a move against him. "What do you want, Preußen?"

Gilbert took a seat on one of the sofas alongside the piano. "I'm checking in on you. You know how things are, word travels. Everyone's saying you're a wreck and I wanted to get a front-row seat to your implosion." Despite his taunting, concern flashed across his face. "And, man, you really are imploding. You look like hell."

"Of course I look like shit, Gilbert, I've lost everything! Some of us have fallen on hard times." Roderich appraised the other man. He looked neatly put together, as if he hadn't been fighting a war for the past four years and lost a substantial amount of territory, money, and resources. He glowered. "I forget myself. The glorious Prussia is too good to struggle," he snarled.

Such hostility right off the bat took him by surprise. Normally Gilbert was the one who fired the first shot. He sat up straight, trying to find a way to deescalate the situation. "I'm struggling there's, ah..." Quick, think of something. "Debt! Lots of postwar debt! Have to pay off France somehow." Roderich gave him a look that called him on his garbage. Gilbert exhaled loudly. "Nothing I say will be acceptable to you, so why should I bother trying to convince you that I've been dealt a shit hand too? I lost my monarchy, that's been rough."

"Cry me a river. Losing the Hohenzollerns is mercy on us all. Without the Hapsburgs, my whole state is in shambles. There is no one to rule, no one understands what's going on, and all of them refuse to listen to me! All they want to do is chase each other around Vienna and debate things. The whole practice is absurd!" Roderich buried his head in his hands. He banged out a few sharp notes on the piano to vent his frustrations. "But I bet democracy is so wonderful in Prussia!" He began imitating a North German accent with a stupid smile on his face. "Oh yes! It's so wonderful and effectual and we all hold hands and sing songs! What a wonderful way of doing things, we should've tried this long ago instead of starting every major war for the last fifty fucking years!"

That was hurtful. Gilbert crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed into a glare. "I think speaking like that constitutes as some sort of prejudice. No surprise then that everyone left you. I'm sure Feliks found your impressions of Poles equally as charming."

"As if you like the Polish either!"

He shrugged, ignoring that. "Besides, what's the point in taking your anger out on me? I'm trying to do a nice thing here, making sure that you're still functioning. Has anyone else come here to check on you?" A telling silence. Gilbert smiled without any warmth. "Exactly. I'm all that you've got right now. So, either get a little nicer or you're going to lose your only friend."

Austria jumped up, unable to contain himself. He began pacing, a cold fire burning in his eyes. "There goes your arrogance as always! We are not, nor will we ever be, friends! I don't want your sympathy; I've never asked for it and I certainly don't need it now. I'm capable of being on my own and regrouping till the time is right for me to reclaim all my possessions again. This is simply a minor hiccup. Part of the natural ebb and flow of our existence." He turned on his heel, facing Gilbert directly with unbridled contempt. "As for you, I don't want anything to do with you! Your vile tongue was the one that coaxed me into that godforsaken war and what did I get? I lost everything because of your blood lust! You didn't care one bit about assisting me with anything, you only wanted to gobble up more French territory for yourself!"

"And I did. I would've kept it all if it hadn't been for that meddling kid." Prussia shrugged dismissively, pushing away his mental picture of America. "They'll get their comeuppance soon enough. I'm not losing sleep over it." The Austrian was flustered at how little impact his words made. Seeing this, his rival seized the moment with a smirk. "If you knew all that, and I know you did because I hadn't bothered hiding it, then why did you so willingly go along with me? There you go again with your victim complex, Roddy. I'm always the one forcing you into something or doing something to you that you find so reprehensible. Will you ever grow the balls to admit that you like it? That you love taking things just as much as me?" Roderich's discomfort made him smile. He licked his teeth, hungry at the thought of conquest. "While we partitioned Poland, you acted like it was so horrendous while demanding you get some of the best portions. You didn't hesitate to attack Denmark with me on the same flimsy reasons simply because it would be an easy fight. I hate to admit it too, but we're the same. It's about time you own up to it."

"You have no shame. You like to be the villain."

"I'm not the villain, I just don't delude myself with thinking I'm the good guy. You should try it."

They stared each other down. Gilbert remained spread out on the sofa, claiming the entirety of it for himself, while Roderich stood behind the piano, his left hand clinging tightly to it. Roderich eventually cooled his nerves enough to form a sentence that wasn't filled with expletives. "Get out of my home. I don't want you defiling it with your presence any longer."

"Make me. You don't have the staff any longer to force me out." Gilbert flashed a shark-like smile, full of teeth and lacking emotion. "Face it, Roddy. In some twisted way, we need each other. Where would be if we weren't getting into screaming matches like this? There would be no more fun in life."

"I don't need you around! I am adamant in the fact that I'm perfectly capable of being on my own! In all honesty, I would prefer it. My music doesn't talk back to me in such a loathsome way. Nor do my books, my portraits, my garden." He began noticing a pattern. He truly had no living companions. Roderich began considering his life. Who on earth actually understood him? Hungary did, but she had made clear to him her feelings when she left. There was no way he could contact her without invoking her wrath. All the other territories he occupied held even more negative opinions of him, as did his former peers in the Holy Roman Empire. His eyes met Gilbert's. If this was the closest he could come to any sort intimate relationship, he was damned.

"When was the last time you were really alone?" All the baiting had left Gilbert's voice. The faintest bit of genuine sympathy - or what it pity? Roderich could no longer tell - was reflected in his eyes. "I've never seen your home this quiet."

"It's been centuries. Not since the sixteenth century." Some of the fight began to drain his body. He slumped down on the piano bench. "I have some staff still. Purely the essentials. A butler, a chauffeur, two chefs, a maid that comes twice weekly. Nothing nearly as extravagant as before. It's rather ostentatious to have a palace be so empty." He laughed bitterly. "If the state wasn't paying for them, I would personally have a hard time. My finances aren't in the best place."

Gilbert shot him an incredulous look. Roderich cleared his throat. "Alright, I'm not exactly in dire straits. I still have plenty of gold and jewels, but the government offered and why turn down a good deal?"

"You're such a cheap bastard." Gilbert couldn't stop himself from snorting out a laugh. "You almost had me for a second, till I remembered you probably have loads stashed away in some London bank account." He composed himself. "If you've been surrounded by underlings for that long, you're not going to handle in being such a huge place by yourself. Your cries might echo too loudly at night for your comfort." Embarrassed by his confession, he tried walking it back. "So I've heard. Francis gave me that advice after I destroyed him at Waterloo. It's not from personal experience." Another signature smooth save.

Roderich didn't want to touch that. He did ponder the advice for a moment, before rejecting it. "I would, but this is the smallest home I own, and I don't want to purchase an even smaller one. I had enough trouble fitting all my possessions in here as it was."

"This...this is your smallest home?" Outrage. Pure, unbridled outrage. Gilbert swiveled his head around, suddenly feeling a deep sympathy for the Marxists who called for the heads of aristocrats. "My smallest home is a hunting lodge in rural East Prussia! This is bigger than some of my palaces in Potsdam and those would be the ones I showed off to women to impress them." He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Throughout all these years, I don't think you've ever said a more upsetting thing to me."

None of that mattered. Roderich narrowed in on his true target. "Which women, Gilbert?"

Cornered. "There's a really funny story behind that, I'm sure you'll be laughing very much. I need something to drink though. It's the only way I'll have the strength to tell you." Seeing his suspicious look, Gilbert begged. "Please. When I'm done, we'll both need one."

It was a simple enough demand and, though he would never admit, he had a feeling Gilbert was right. Roderich looked around for one of his staff to command to bring them a bottle and some glasses. There was no one else in the room. "I didn't say this, but you might have a point that I'm not well-adjusted to this life." Even more shocking, they both laughed, enjoying the very act. Roderich led them out of the music room and into the bar where they made themselves comfortable with a glass of wine and beer respectively.

Gilbert sipped from his stein happily. "Ah, much better. You also can't kick me out after I tell you this."

"I would never promise such a thing."

"I didn't think so, but worth a shot. Anyways, I got access to all the castles which I doubt is news to you because you probably have a similar arrangement. And of my favorites, the largest is the Neuis Palais. Well, I'm not sure if it's the largest but it seems like it. I loved it even when Fritz was alive and there were a few months while we were living there that I begged him to move out for a few days so I could bring this woman back, show her off, have her feel like a queen. All the works of romance-"

"That reminds me. Who was this lovely woman? It's so fascinating that you'd go to such lengths to woo her, I'd love to know her name." Austria stared him down from over the rim of his wine glass. He took his sip and smiled. "To have such powers over your heart, she must be quite the force of nature." He spoke very pointedly.

"You shouldn't ask questions you already know the answer to."

"Oh contraire. Those are usually the best questions to ask."

"Fine. It's Erzsébet, it's always her. Happy?" He was met with a fake smile brimming with hostility before continuing. "You asked to hear this, you put this on yourself. So, I'm doing all this to impress Erzsi because some of us know how to treat a woman and keep her satisfied." He offered his own mock smile. "Fritz wasn't very big on the whole plan since he was living there at the time and believed his needs usurped my own, which is ridiculous considering all the things I had to do to help him sneak his boyfriends around so he could get a little action. Anyway." Gilbert smirked, thinking back at those fond memories. "Once I inform him who it is I'm planning on-"

"Cheating with? Helping destroy her marriage? Sleeping your way to the slightest bit of self-satisfaction?" Roderich smiled, but it didn't meet his eyes. "Do any of those work for you?"

"If you're going to keep interrupting, I'll start going into graphic detail while acting it out." The distraught look on Roderich's face provided a sufficient answer. "Smart choice. I tell him who I'm going to spend a wonderful weekend with and he finds it hysterical. His immediate reaction was to ask me if Maria-Theresa knew and if it upset her. I didn't know the answer to that, but I figured if I said she did and she was, it would help my chances."

"She did know and she found it equally distasteful. It furthered her disdain for you, as both a state and person. Once you invaded Silesia, I decided she needed to know everything you'd done so we'd be more determined to crush you." Austria was gripping the arms of his chair tight in his left hand. He tried to relax his grasp, but found it impossible.

Gilbert, proud of his exceptional guesswork, paid no attention. "I'm such a genius. I got what I wanted and I weaseled out the truth! I really am the most brilliant strategist in all of Europe."

"While we're congratulating your brilliance, care to spare a word on the Schlieffen Plan?"

"It would've worked just fine if Ludwig hadn't bungled it!" Prussia huffed, crossing his arms. He resented having his plans critiqued by an armchair general.

Austria finished down the rest of his drink. The wine really did appear to be a necessity. He filled his glass again, needing more to help quiet his thoughts. "I'm surprised at how bashful you were to mention all that. Normally you love throwing this sort of thing in my face. Have you two had a falling out?" Self-loathing filled him for the faint hope in his voice.

"Why would I want to tell you all about us right now? There's no joy in kicking a dog while he's down." With a flick of his hand, Gilbert waved away Roderich’s dim glimmer of hope. "I'd rather beat you down when you're getting arrogant again about your place in the world. I figured with the divorce, you didn't want to hear about all my recent trips to Budapest." He snickered. "Correct me if I'm wrong. I'd be more than happy to fill you in on everything we've been doing."

"I most certainly do not want to hear any of that! I would appreciate if you didn't insinuate about what you're doing with her, you degenerate!" An obnoxious laughter filled the room. Roderich wanted to scream, but barely restrained himself. "Now I understand the real reason you're here. You've been waiting all this time to throw that in my face, remind me of where you stack up better as a lover than me. There's nothing to stop you now - though, I suppose there never was if you lack any morals - so why not go all in? You're such a loathsome creature."

"I didn't insinuate anything you couldn't figure out was happening! You would do the exact same to me if you had the chance." Gilbert was now growing frustrated. "How many times do I have to tell you that my real reason, no bullshit, to be here is to see how you're doing? To make sure you're not slitting your wrists or sticking your head in an oven! You don't have anyone and, besides, who knows you like your worst enemy?" He patted Roderich on the shoulder. "We both need friends right now. Arthur won't talk to me since he's taking this war close to heart and Ivan seems like he's losing it. Ludwig's being a real jerk right now so why not sit around, talking with you? You've always given me good enough entertainment."

"It's almost endearing that you feel that way, but have you ever stopped to consider how I might feel about all this? That I find you, down to my core, the most disgusting character in the world? You dragged me into a war that destroyed everything I hold dear, my ex-wife had been cheating with you for centuries and now she gets to openly be with you, you've been provoking me to war and self-destructive choices for years and besting me at every turn." Austria's hands shook with anger. All the negative emotions he'd been suppressing for the past few months began pouring out. "You're the antithesis to everything I believe makes an upstanding, respectable person. Every aspect of you from the mundane to the important fills me with dread. The fact that for so long so many have found you charming - in fact, that they've found you to be a better friend, lover, and ally than me - boggles the mind and upsets it so deeply! I'm at the point where I can barely stand the sight of you. Especially knowing that, despite every conceivable factor, you're able to still be relatively well-off and powerful while I am a shell of my former self! You are the one that's at fault for everything, but have barely faced any personal consequences!"

Prussia sat, continuing to drink while the other man vented. He glanced at his watch, finding the whole speech tiresome. "Are you done yet? I've heard all this before from you. I would've figured that such a maestro would've learnt a new song by now."

That did it. The tables turned, Austria saw red. He bolted up and grabbed Prussia by the collar, thrusting him up. "I would love nothing more than to rid my life of you for once and for all. No matter where I turn, no matter where I go, I always come up against you. Why? What game are you playing at here? Haven't you had your fun yet? You've cursed me to become eroded over time, replaced by such a backwater Piefke!"

"Are you really going to hit me to make yourself feel better? After all the years you derided me for doing the same?" Prussia's answer was the feeling of a fist crashing into his chin. He shifted his jaw around, laughing. "You've never been much of a fighter. That's the lamest hit I've ever taken, didn't even draw blood."

"Then show me how it's done, you brute! You're the one who's always talked about rolling in the mud. Here's your chance! For once, I'm actually ready!"

His hands balled into a fist and he swung his arm back. He would show Austria, he'd show him how a real man fought. But something caught Prussia's attention. How crazed Roderich looked, the desperation in his eyes. This wouldn't be a fair fight. This would be wish fulfillment, further proof that the world was stacked up against him. Gilbert dropped his arm and pushed Roderich away. "Why would I when you're beating yourself up better than I could? What honor is there in this fight?"

There was that damn pity again. Roderich couldn't take it. He collapsed onto the floor. All the fight within him drained at last. There was nothing left, not even a flicker. "I've lost everything. I don't even have a rival who sees me as a worthy challenger."

"Look at yourself, Roderich! Really look at yourself! You don't need me to beat the shit out of you to feel alive again. Have a little more sense of self-worth than that! You need to get a grip before you completely lose your mind." Prussia closed his eyes, swallowing all his pride. "I'm only doing this because you need some sort of pick me up. I respect you, in my own way. I wouldn't have wasted my time going after you all these years if I didn't respect how much of a threat you can be." He opened his eyes, staring intently out the window. "And, before everything got intense, you were decent towards me. I respected that you appreciated me enough to let me become a kingdom. And that was before you started handing kingships out like they were candy!"

Austria rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fat good it did me. Acknowledging you in such a way proved to be the worst move of my life." He considered the rest of what Prussia had said. The full weight of it took him by surprise once it settled in. "You have a strange way of showing respect."

He sat down besides Roderich, assessing the situation to be stable enough to move closer. "I respected what you could do politically and, for a very short time, militarily. I'll admit that once Erzsi told me about her situation, who you were as a person didn't move me. Didn't mean I stopped respecting how willing you were to fight me on everything, even when it was obvious you were going to lose."

"On paper, I typically had the upper-hand. If you're going to delude yourself, try not to do it in my presence." Roderich crossed his arms. He slowly felt some of his barriers crumbling down, much to his curiosity. "I suppose it's only fair if I admit to admiring your tenacity, despite it always being used to oppose me. The way you would always chase after whatever fantasy you held was fascinating to watch when I could be a bystander and, though I will never repeat this, rather stunning when you achieved it." He shot a warning look, wanting to take back what he so freely gave. "Empire does not suit you, though. I'd never seen you more desirous for bloodshed."

"It doesn't look good on you either. You've never been able to take criticism, but holy shit. All those dissenters you crushed before words could even leave their mouths. You couldn't handle a single thing being said against you."

They paused for a moment before laughing. "I take it Erzsébet lectured you on her theory of empire as well."

Gilbert affixed a stern expression of his face. "You become the worst version of yourself with power! Stop invading everyone, how many more wars do you have left in you?" He spoke with a terrible Hungarian accent, his voice up three octaves in what he believed a woman sounded like. The two of them broke into uproarious laughter.

It was Roderich's turn. He gave Gilbert a conspiratorial look. "Leave the Balkans alone! What have they ever done to you!" He dropped the voice before switching back to his normal tone. "Well, dear, I don't know. Assassinating our crown prince feels like a big offense." They laughed even harder. They had to lean against each for support, wiping tears away from their eyes.

"Don't forget that bastard, France. Big winner, having his country torn to shreds for four years. Better not mess with him else he might start waving a white flag so fast, you'll call him Italy."

Austria shook his head, scoffing. "For God's sake, don't mention the damn Italians. If I knew Feliciano would turn out to be such a useless coward, I would've let Antonio take the entirety of the damned place in the divorce." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I suppose Turkey was just as helpful. It's amazing, isn't it? How the hell did we manage to get surrounded with such utter incompetence?"

"Because we'd alienated anyone else with half a brain." Prussia held his glass up. "Cheers to our utter unlikability." They clinked glasses.

"Really, I think you were more of the problem than me. You've done a lot over the years to draw everyone's ire." Roderich sighed at the pointed look Gilbert shot him. "Fine. Yes, we're both intolerable and insufferable bastards. Better?"

"Better."

They sat there, drinking in peaceable silence. The only time it was broken was when they would go to refill their glasses. It was during such a break that Gilbert observed Roderich over the bar counter. He appeared to be doing better than he was originally. He'd moved away from heading towards a psychotic break to a place of being consumed by deep melancholy. It wasn't fantastic, but any improvement was satisfactory to Gilbert. Once everything had calmed down, he was surprised at how much he was enjoying himself, how easy it was to be in the other man's presence. If he was being honest, they'd been heading in that general trend for a few years now. Something about the war changed their relationship. Perhaps it was having to be united against more fearsome enemies, perhaps it was because it became increasingly apparent that their personal melodrama would be resolved in Gilbert's favor, or perhaps they'd gotten too old for all this. Whatever it was, Gilbert was bizarrely thankful for it. He remembered their youth - when there was room to be some sort of friends, even if they never always got along - fondly. To have someone who understood your mentality, your life experiences, you could turn to would be pleasant. Much better than Antonio's constant optimism or Francis' continual condescension or Ivan's neediness.

He slumped back down besides Roderich. "Feels weird to admit it, but the war didn't feel quite as terrible since you were around. When we're not trying to kill each other, you're pretty fun to be with." He swigged his beer back, needing some alcohol to help loosen up his words. "At first, I was pissed at you for personally taking such a backseat to the whole affair, but it was always a nice break away from everything to come here, see it was all the same instead of ruins and trenches." Gilbert wrinkled his nose, the smell of sod and rotting flesh filling his nose. "Damn trenches were hell. I hate this city, but it became like heaven on earth during those years with you at the center of it all, showing that there were still some civilized men."

"There's no glory in modern warfare. In the past, I could ride up on a horse with all my decorations, shout a few words of confidence to my men, and let them handle the rest. Maybe charge you or whatever state I was warring against to make it a fair fight. Now, everything's so bloody, so uncouth. I want nothing to do with that, I'd rather handle everything behind the scenes, it's what I've always been better at. I'll admit that having spouses or underlings with better armies and generals made me quite rusty." He smiled gently at Gilbert. "Besides, while we're being complementary towards each other, why would I want to get in the way of two of the best fighters Europe will ever see? You and Hungary on the same side, conspiring together instead of against each other? What would I have to offer in that? You two would be right not to listen to me." He shrugged, leaning back against the chair behind him. "I'm glad I could provide you with some sort of escapism and you'll be happy to know you gave me the same. It was refreshing to hear from someone who actually knew what was going on and what needed to be done as opposed to aristocrats who'd grown softer than me, unsure of what to do since they'd never fought for anything before."

Gilbert snickered, shaking his head. "We're morons. We're really morons. Wasted all those damn years trying to kill each other and look where we are?" He waved an arm around. "We're fucking pariahs with no glory and only the contempt of everyone else to prove we achieved anything!"

"The good news is that when you're at the bottom, the only place you can go is up." Roderich caught Gilbert's eyes, failing to hide a smirk. "The bad news is that we've sunk beyond rock bottom. I think we've managed to sink so low as to find ourselves in hell."

They held each other's eyes before breaking into a laugh, the absurdity of it all hitting them. What a waste of time and blood they'd spent trying to destroy each other. So focused were they on their petty grievances, on trying to destroy what the other had achieved, they couldn't focus on the real threats. It only made sense that after so many years of signaling their weariness and displeasure at their constant fighting, France and Britain would team up (what power Austria and Prussia had to make a different pair of enemies finally see eye-to-eye!) and crush them. So concerned were they in besting the other for power in Central Europe that they forgot they were bit players in the larger Anglo-French drama, that they could be punished for hogging the spotlight too long by their American sugar daddy.

"You know, after any battle where you'd beaten me severely, I would always get absolutely obliterated to take my mind off it." Gilbert looked at his stein suggestively.

Roderich considered it. What did he have to lose? He'd already had a few glasses of wine, what harm would more do? He hadn't had anything resembling fun in so long, it wouldn't kill him to enjoy himself for one night. A voice in the back of his reminded him that it would be having fun with Gilbert, with Prussia. The very idea was unthinkable, previously unconscionable! The world had changed so rapidly. He was divorced, his empire lost to the pages of history. Hadn't things changed for Gilbert too? Hadn't he been pushed out of the seat of his power as well, having all he'd won so recently taken back as quickly as it came? They both were losers, the most pathetic kind of losers. For the first time in centuries, there was no difference in power between them. As strange as it was, they were equals. Equals in misery and, if Roderich could get over himself, possibly equals in friendship.

"Whenever you'd dealt me a crushing loss, I would always lock myself in my piano room and play until my fingers were raw, until I could no longer see that gloating mug of yours." Roderich chuckled, feeling as if some weight had been lifted from him. "Perhaps your method would've been better. Go on, get whatever I have in the bar that's strongest."

Gilbert shot up, complying with the order as if it had been barked from a general. "I'm making you play for me when you're drunk! I need to hear Edelstein's 'Ode to a Drunken Haze', I know it's your best piece."

"Only if you accompany me on flute. I refuse to make a fool only out of myself!"

"Oh, trust me," Gilbert smiled, pointing the bottle of rum he'd found at Roderich. "We're both going to look like complete idiots by the end of the night. Might as well have some fun with it."

Roderich was surprised to find how true those words would ring.

[a1taraxia]

The Maladroit Manifesto

“All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art.” – Roman Payne

The world is full of beautiful, graceful people. People who are not only attractive, but are also well kempt, elegantly spoken, intelligent, confident. These people, the people who seem like the baseline for a proper human or the perfect amount of likes on Instagram, are all façades of themselves. Whatever it is about them that makes others think they consist of nothing but positive attributes is merely the shell that holds the awkward and clumsy human inside. Everyone has an idea of perfection when it comes to what heights a human being can reach. Rarely will they find a person on this Earth who meets every point, and never will they find one that reaches those points without some flaw that forces a compromise.

Picasso is a great example of a human who did not produce art for the sake of praise to feed his vanity, but he produced art to invoke emotion. The Old Guitarist is not there to make you swoon, it is there to make you feel uncomfortable and sad and longing for something you have not found yet. In fact, artists often do not make art for other people, but for themselves to cope with emotions they do not fully understand.

Brayan Salinas does an excellent job in I Refuse to Report Bugs to Their Creator of expressing the feeling of dread with not fitting in to the social norm he is exposed to. For a lot of people, myself included, even the individuals who shaped me in to being the person I am today can still make me feel awkward to be around. Even with the people who know me the best, I still find myself questioning if they truly understand my intentions, or if they would even accept me if they did.

For as long as I can remember, I have always felt like the oddball amongst my friends. I have always felt like I never truly learned how to socialize like a “normal” human being. What is a normal human being? How do they know when they are oversharing, or if they are even in a good position to be talking at all?

Hamlet never saw himself as the villain he was. He spent the play narrating about how different he was, how much better he was than those around him. He never had the self-awareness to know that he was the bad guy.

We will all go through periods of change in life. Middle school is an awkward time for everybody, although it is hard to see that in everyone around you when you are living in it. During my teenage years, I felt like I was the only one who was insecure. As I grew older, I realized that everyone dealt with their own struggles of self-image, some were just better at hiding it. As a teenager raised by rednecks in a place where that was not something to be proud of, I was ashamed to let friends come over to my house. I was worried about what they would assume of my personality based on where I came from. I learned how to speak without an accent. I learned that people don’t think airboats are nearly as cool as I do. I exposed myself to every genre of music that people who said “I listen to anything but country” enjoyed. As an adult, I now proudly play Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash while I cook dinner. I sing Harper Valley PTA like my life depends on it. I learned that change does not have to be a complete elimination of myself, but picking and choosing what I want to take with me. Change is learning what I like, being proud of it despite outside judgement, and being open to changing it again if I need to for the sake of my own happiness.

So why does all of this matter? Well, the truth is, it doesn’t. We are all awkward to somebody. We are all someone’s idea of marriage material the same way we are all someone that someone else would dread being stuck in an elevator with. We are all clumsy and imperfect humans. And we have the right to be. We all have the right to be human. With that comes the occasional laugh so hard you shoot milk out of your nose. When I was a young girl, I saw women in their twenties as gods. I saw them as beautiful and confident and sophisticated. Now, as an adult, I realize how naïve I was about what growing up meant. Growing up is not growing into a flawless human. Growing up is becoming a human that embraces their flaws and is patient with themselves and their imperfections. Do not punish yourself for being awkward and clumsy. Let it remind you of how beautiful individuality is.

[huntertales]

Part Three: She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not. (You Can’t Handle the Truth S06E06)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate a series of suicides and discover the victims were being told brutal truths that drove them crazy. They find out someone is invoking the Goddess of Truth, Veritas, forcing people to be cruelly honest against their will and Dean is the next victim. With his new ability, the reader is forced to tell the truth that might change the dynamics between her and the Winchester brothers for good. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 6,921.

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If you thought this day couldn't get any worse, it sure could. Sam learned early on about his brother’s new  special ability of getting people to tell the truth when he was cornered in the hallway of the victim's apartment complex. He was suddenly being interrogated with a few questions that would have made the hairs on your neck stand up on edge. You sat in the backseat of the Impala and patiently waited for the boys, clueless for what was about to come.

When the boys emerged out from the building and took their rightful spots in the car, that's when the first bit of truth spilled out from your mouth. It started out innocent enough when Dean, who looked to be riddled with all sorts of different emotions, decided to fill the slowly rising awkward tension with turning on some music. Which was the cassette tape you had been forced to listen again and again for the past five grueling years. Most of the time you didn’t complain, but for some reason today, you acted like you were being tortured.

“Do you have anything else we could possibly listen to? I feel like if I have to listen to this song again I’m going to jab knives into my ears.” You didn’t know why, but the truth that had crossed your mind a few times suddenly stumbled out of your mouth. But it was soon followed by another one when Dean decided to go straight through a yellow light that quickly turned red a few seconds later. "You know, I'm surprised you haven't gotten us killed yet with your terrible driving skills. I...I sound like a jerk. Why am I saying this?”

"Because Dean's cursed." Sam said, giving you the news of what happened while you and him were gone. Your facial features changed as the color in your face seemed to drain away. "Dean asked for the truth. And he's getting it. We better be careful what we say around him. We wouldn't want him to jump off the deep end, now would we?"

Dean asked for the truth out of frustration from the lack that he was getting from the people around him. And now he was cursed to get it from everyone who looked in his direction. Luckily for the three of you, the things coming out of your mouth weren't the least bit harmful when you got back from the motel and locked yourself in your room for the duration of the afternoon. You were harboring a few secrets of yours that nobody should know. If Dean found out, you had a feeling it would result in more than just his heart being crushed.

You decided the best form of contact would be over the phone and staying away from him far as possible. Even though it worked over the phone just as well, if you felt yourself about to spill a deep secret, you could hang up the phone before he could hear it.

“So this was the chick’s pet?” Dean must have found the cat skull that once belonged to her cat Mittens, who the girl's roommate thought had ran away. Little did she realize her friend must have killed the poor cat for its skull to conduct a ritual.

“Well, she was obsessed.” You said. You had your laptop propped open on the table and a few browsers on some sites that could explain what was going on here. "All right, so Sam found a cat skull, grains-of-paradise seeds, devil's shoestring. Mix 'em well, and you got yourself a nifty summoning spell.”

“Demon?” The older Winchester presumed.

“I wish it was that easy. But, no. God. Corey was so desperate for the truth about her boyfriend’s cheating heart, she went digging around. Nothing panned out, so she went looking for a different kind of help.” You explained to the boys. You wondered why she couldn’t have just broke up with the guy if she thought he was cheating on her. It sure would have saved the three of you a lot of time. And stopped almost half a dozen people from dying. “Now anyone in town who asks aloud for the truth invokes Veritas. And she doesn’t just give it to you. She slams it with you until you kill yourself and she gets her tribute.”

“So, all that ‘tribute’ vanishing from the morgue. What do you think, uh, soylent-green situation?” Dean presumed the worst about what was going on around here.

“Gods got to eat, too.” Sam said. “Which means we got to take her out or Dean’s on the menu.”

“All right, well, what do we know, besides crazy cat lady?” Dean asked.

“Well, dogs are her achilles heel. And she was a pretty hands-on goddess back in the day. Her thing was coming down from the mountain to speak truth to the masses.” You said, giving all sorts of information that you gathered over the past few hours. “She wanted more than tribute. She wanted to be worshipped.”

“An attention whore.” Dean muttered. The remark took you a bit by surprise, but you presumed he was probably right from how this goddess liked to have all the attention on her. “And what is the twenty first-century version of speaking truth to the masses?”

Dean had an idea of who it might be. She was more than just the girl who pretended to be your best friend, telling you the blunt truth of how things really were. About how people really viewed you and spilling deep secrets that would make you go insane. That role was too small. She wanted something bigger, better She wanted to be someone that everyone would trust. A friendly face you would tune into every evening to hear nothing but the truth.

+ + +

Dean possible theory lead you down the path to an investigative journalist with the not so subtle name of Ashley Frank and her hit news segment, “Frank Talk.”  While it made you roll your eyes when you heard it, the horrible name for her show was the least of your problems. The real challenge came your way when the three of you had an infinite amount of hours of unaired footage you had to look over.Mostly all the footage you and the boys were subjected into watching was just outtakes of her introducing her show for commercials and whatnot, nothing screamed pagan god who liked to munch on her victims’.

Her segments were mostly about first world problems about knowing if the organic produce you got from the grocery store was really worth the cost. Stupid things that normal people wanted to hear about. Not the hard hitting news about the world around them they chose to stay oblivious to. Hours of raw footage later, the sun was already up, signaling another day. You managed to catch a break when you offered to get some coffee to keep all of you awake. When you arrived back with some donuts and coffee, there seemed to have been no change of progress.

“She’s creepy. I mean, the hair alone.” Dean remarked with a mouthful of food. You looked away from the laptop screen and looked at the man occupying the front of the bed you were sitting on. You kept yourself silent most of the morning by munching on the food and coffee you bought after Sam didn't want any. And it was your best bet of making whatever came out of your mouth nothing but a muffled noise. You looked back over to see the woman was getting her makeup touched up and her tight updo was perfect. "I don't know, guys. Maybe there's nothing here."

Maybe there was, maybe there wasn't. Another several more hours of watching tedious takes and one pizza later, you had gotten the break that you were looking for. Ashley Frank took her news segment out of her studio when she went to a suburban neighborhood to interview people about the town council. What really caught your attention was caught by a doberman pinscher who popped into frame to ruin her take. You furrowed your brow slightly when the dog jumped up to stand on his hind legs and start barking his head off when he caught sight of her. Most people would have brushed it off as nothing or wait until the dog calmed down. But her reaction seemed out of the ordinary.

“Hold on. Did you see that?” You asked, wondering if Sam happened to spot the same thing you had just a few seconds ago. He nodded his head and reached out an arm to drag the chair holding the laptop closer to the both of you to get a better inspection of what you just saw. "Hey, Dean. You might want to come and take a look at this."

The older Winchester took another bite of his pizza that he was eating before dropping it back down into the box and heading over to see what you stumbled upon. Sam rewinded the video by a few seconds to replay the take for his brother. Dean inspected the clip for himself before he found something suspicious. His brother zoomed in on the woman’s face when she looked over her shoulder to glare at the barking dog that ruined her shot. But there was something much more hiding behind the icy cold stare. It was how her eyes turned into a different shade, almost like they glowed, when she was forced to come into contact with something she didn’t like.

+ + +

You had a hunch this Ashley Frank was more than just a successful news anchor who seemed to have popped out of thin air. She’d been living a rather cushioned life with her job and endless supply of humans to much on when the cameras weren’t rolling after being summoned just a few weeks ago by the first victim who started all of this. You and the boys followed her home after she wrapped up another day of shooting, which would be her last after tonight. She might have been a nasty pagan god, but she had style.

She owned a classic red convertible and made sure her famous updo was safely secured with a silk scarf she wrapped up. She drove to her enormous, and rather modern looking home. Dean made sure to park a safe distance away so she wouldn’t know three hunters were behind her.

“Looks pretty normal, right?” You asked, suspecting she might have done her dining elsewhere to keep herself inconspicuous to the humans she was surrounding herself with.

“I’m sure inside it’s chock full of creep.” Dean muttered. On the outside it might look like a house that would grace the cover of an interior magazine, but there was always secrets pagans liked to hide. Ashley stepped inside her house and turned on the lights, giving you a sight to watch her walk up her staircase and disappeared from sight. She would never suspect you coming. Dean pulled out three knifes that all of you would need. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Sam said. He opened up a paper bag that had been sitting inside his lap during the duration of the ride and pulled out a mason jar full of a crimson red substance. You stared at the jar for a moment, slightly fearful to hear the answer when you asked him what exactly what that was. “Dog’s blood.”

“Poor Lassie.” You muttered underneath your breath. You shuddered slightly in disgust when the younger Winchester twisted off the top, showing no signs of disturbance from what you were about to do. “Do I even want to know where you got that from, Sammy?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, deciding it would be best to let the answer remain a mystery. You regretfully dipped the blade of your knife into the blood, making sure it was covered enough for this to work if you were gonna go after this pagan god. You'd done a lot of disgusting things in your time of hunting. Yet, this was an ultimate low for you when it came to hurting a harmless animal to take down the monster of the week. But if it kept you from spilling the truth, you would have to look the other way and pretend the blade was covered in something else.

You and the boys headed inside when you were sure that Ashley had disappeared into the top level of her house, probably unwinding from a long day of playing human. When the three of you stepped inside, things weren’t exactly how you expected them to be. The interior of the place was less Dr. Doom and a little more successful business woman with good taste. The interior of the place was modern, and if you had to be honest, it made you a tad bit jealous she called this her own. You headed into the living room to see that the goddess lived up to the lore of having felines as her favorite pets. Two of them sat next to the fireplace that was going, pleasuring around while their owner settled in for a quiet night.

One of the cats turned its head to look at you when it noticed a lingering presence. It let out a meow and bolted for the winding staircase that lead down. You decided to follow the cat and see where it would lead you, the boys followed suit. The three of you headed down to the bottom level of the house that appeared just as normal like the rest of the place. But looks could be deceiving if you looked behind closed doors.

You remained on alert as you approached a door that was cracked open just enough for you to sneak inside without bringing attention to yourself. What you stumbled upon was a place where Veritas, the goddess of truth, could be herself. You couldn’t help but find the portraits depicting of herself in her most natural state was a little too much. It seemed that’s not why Mr. Whiskers brought you down here. You looked over your shoulder to see the cat went bolting again, and straight forward to a pair of double doors that were parted open just enough for it to ran inside.

You and the boys followed behind to see what sort of secrets that were hidden behind the door. And it was the kind of creep that you were expecting to see. You could feel your stomach beginning to feel uneasy when you saw the cat had jumped onto what appeared to be a rolling metal table with scraps of its owner’s most recent meal she dissected. Limbs laid across the ground without much care along with a dismembered body hung up on a hook, cut clean of its organs. But she wouldn’t go hungry when you spotted the dentist who had hung himself in prison just yesterday off on the other side of the room, waiting to be dissected and picked clean of whatever Veritas was craving for the night. But she was in the mood for something more...fresher.  

“You came for dinner.”

A feminine voice caught you by surprise, making the tables be turned on you. You looked over your shoulder to see that Ashley Frank was no longer, and what stood in the doorway to greet you and the boys was Veritas herself in all her glory. You had been prepared to catch her off guard and wrap this hunt up before things could get messy. But that wasn’t the case for tonight. Things were about to become worse than you could imagine. And before you had a chance to defend yourself, all it took was a simple flick of her wrist for you to feel yourself flying across the room, and roughly hitting your head on the tiled floor, making your vision grow black.

+ + +

You didn’t know how long you were out of it, but when you came back around, the first sensation that you felt was a throbbing pain in the back of your head from how you landed. You slowly came back around when you heard the sound of heels clicking away on the floor. It didn’t take you very long to realize that you weren’t welcome guests, but meat getting ready for the slaughter. Your hands were pinned behind your back and tied to a metal rod. The way that you were sitting, it would be near impossible to fetch out the knife you always kept in your back pocket for situations like this. You couldn’t move too much, because you might raise suspicion.

“I gotta say,” You decided to strike up a conversation with the pagan god, taking notice that she decided to slip out of her business formal wear for something much more gaudy in the form of a gold length evening dress and accessories decked out in diamonds. “You’re a little overdressed for this evening.”

“Mm. Cute. Sit sight. You’re up next.” Veritas didn’t seem to find your truthful opinion about her wardrobe the least bit funny. She left the three of you alone for a moment so she could walk over to the dentist and grab herself a snack. While she worked on ripping out his tongue straight out of his mouth, Sam was working on a way to get himself out. She joined you once again to get the fun started. But your gaze never looked away from the human organ she was currently holding. “The tongue...is the tastiest part. It’s where the lies roll off.”

"If you want some honestly, let me give you some helpful advice. Be careful with overindulging yourself. All that human meat will go straight to a woman’s thighs.” You were attempting to keep the sarcasm coming, knowing it’d be a matter of time until she either killed you. Or made you spill the harsh truth. She showed no regards for your words when you watched as she sank her teeth into the flesh, making you quickly look away. “Oh, God. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“I cannot wait to eat yours. I mean, I’ve seen liars before, but you three? Gold standard.” Veritas said, putting down the tongue for a moment. Dean made a remark about lying being a personal pride of his, but she could see straight through him. She was the goddess of truth, after all. And he wanted to hear the harsh truth, so that’s what he was going to get. “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Dean. You know what happens when you base your life on lies, right? The truth comes along and…”

Veritas smiled to herself and wandered forward. She inspected the three of you with a close eye, curious to see what kind of secrets that you were keeping one another. “So, while you’ve still got your tongue, God knows you’ve got an earful. I think it’s your turn to spill some. How ‘bout we play a little truth or truth? What should we ask Dean first, hmm? Something...personal about you?” She wondered. She decided to make this a fun game, for her own enjoyment, of course. Veritas moved her gaze to Sam, deciding to start on family and work her way out. “Hey, Dean, I’m curious. What do you really feel about your brother?”

You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked at the man sitting across from you. You could see his facial expression change into surprise when she asked about the person he had been so on edge about lately. Dean tried his hardest to keep the truth down, but it all came out. “Better now. As of yesterday, I wanted to kill him in his sleep. I thought he was a monster. But now I think…” Dean’s honesty took you by complete and total surprise. You didn’t realize his feelings about his brother would have taken a dark turn like that.  All though, it seemed like he changed his mind when he got a chance to think about it more. “He’s just acting like me.”

“What do you mean?” Veritas wondered, knowing there was more than he was trying to keep from everyone in this room.

“It’s the gig. You’re covered in blood until you’re covered  the people you love. Half the time, you’re about to die. Like right now.” Dean said. The smirk on Veritas’ lips grew wider when she realized the goldmine of truth she hit from what the hunter admitted to next. “I told myself I wanted out...that I wanted a family.”

“But you were lying.” Veritas guessed to see if this was where he was going.

“No...Honestly, I don't know anymore. I only really did it because that's what Y/N told me. I did it for her. Not because because it was her dying wish, because I don’t think I can make a decision for myself. My entire life people have told me what to do. And...I just do it. The woman I spent a year with, she was great. And so was her kid. But the both of us knew it was never going to work out in the long run.” He said. “I’m not father material. I don’t deserve a normal life. What I’m good at is slicing throats. I’m a killer. And there’s no changing that. No amount of pretending can fix who I am.”

“Cold blooded killer who’s secretly still a little boy trying to please dear old Dad.” Veritas said. The look that settled on Dean’s face knew she had hit a nerve in him, told the man the truth of who he really was. People lie to themselves everyday, but the real fun was about undoing the ones you tell to the others around them. And the three of you were drowning in the little white lies she wanted to hear. “Y/N, let's play a little game. You pride yourself on being a good friend, right? Team Switzerland when these boys get....catty. But I'm curious. Who’s your favorite?”

“What?” You chuckled at her question. “I don’t have a favorite.”

Veritas' eyes narrowed slightly from your answer. "You know, you're right. I've been eating well. Keeping all of you would be a bit overdoing it. So, say I decide to play nice and let you go. In exchange of letting me continue on and I get to keep one for a snack. So, if you had to choose one brother--and just one--who'd it be?"

"Well..." You swallowed when you felt all eyes on you to hear your answer. You weren't sure if she was being honest herself. Or if she was just trying to answer the question of who would you save in a life or death situation. But you answered honestly like how she wanted. "I'd tell you to keep me and let them go. Because I know Sam and Dean count on each other the most. Even when they’re at each other’s throats. Those boys need each other more than they need me. That’s why I’m always so adamant on putting myself in danger. Because of how much bad I’ve done in this world. I...don’t make their lives better. I think, sometimes, I use them to make myself happy...so that I don’t feel alone.”

"Are you happy, Y/N?" She wondered, curious to see what else she could get out of you.

“No. I haven’t felt happy since I came back from hell. And it’s not the memories that bothers me. It’s what I did before I died. Dean doesn’t know this, but I wrote a letter to the woman he stayed with for that year. I told her that I wanted them to be together. I thought that was the right thing to do. I thought he deserved a normal life with her. But...I realized something.” You said. You could feel yourself overcome with a sudden rush of anger from what you were deprived of. “That’s what I wanted with Dean all along. I wanted to be the one he could come home to. Not her. I wanted to be the one to at least try and make his life a little less miserable. I desperately wanted to tell him that I was alive.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Dean asked you. You could hear his voice growing harder as his facial expression began to change. It wasn’t because he was angry at you. But it was all the truth that was being forced out of him against his will. “Lisa isn’t you. Nobody is. I could spend years trying to somehow get over you. But it’s impossible. I can’t get you out of my damn head. And it kills me to know you don’t feel the same way anymore.”

You didn’t know why, but you were taken back from his own confession. That’s how he really still felt about you? You always kept telling yourself that it was all just old feelings he held onto. One day he’d stop feeling the way he did before you died. But it seemed you were wrong. He loved you just as he did before. And he thought you didn’t. Which of course he would. You told him a dozen times, gave him the clues to lead him off the path. But you knew that wasn’t the truth. And suddenly you felt compelled to tell him everything that you’d been dying to.

“I was lying to you when you told me you loved me. I still love you. I never stopped.” You admitted to him. Your lips stretched into a faint smile from what you could finally say after so long. But the way that your eyes were slowly glaze over, that was caused by the guilt of all the lies you told him. And all the secrets were still still keeping from him.  "No matter what I tried to do, you’re the only one I want to be with. I only lied to you because I thought you really wanted to get out of this.”

“Feels good to get that all off your chest, right? Yeah. I think so. But there’s got to be more than you’re telling us, Y/N. You knew things between Dean and this Lisa were over with. He was up for the grabs again. But you didn’t. You lied to him.” Veritas said with a matter-of-fact voice. You clenched your jaw from what she was about to make you say. “Why?”

“Because of what I did. I'm afraid if I tell him, he'll hate me. But it’s not really that big of a secret between us. He’s already been suspicious.” You said. The words fell out of your mouth without realizing the consequences. And it wasn’t like you could stop any of this if you wanted to. "He thinks something’s been going on between us since we came back from the dead. Dean says that our friendship has gotten unhealthy. And he’s right. It has been.”

"Well, if I had to look at these two handsome faces all day I'd get tempted myself." Veritas mumbled. She looked away from you to see the reactions, that was the best part she missed out on. She watched as Dean's expression changed ever so slowly, she could see his heart breaking into tiny little pieces. "So, Y/N, let met get this straight. You’ve been lying about sleeping with Sam. And you’ve been lying about your true feelings to Dean—even though you knew he felt the same about you, too?”

"...Yes." The honesty slipped out from your mouth like you hadn't been spending the last few months keeping it a secret from Dean. And just like that, you knew it was all over if you got out of this alive. You'd done a lot of stupid things in your life. But what you admitted to might have been the worst thing of all. You wanted nothing more than to drop dead in your spot when you felt two pairs of eyes suddenly upon you. Sam tried his hardest to look shocked at what you did, but you didn't care at the moment of what his reaction would be. He lead on this game for the fun of it. You turned your gaze to Dean to see his reaction from what you just said.

It was easy enough to see that he was pissed off from the furious glare that settled on his face a few moments after the initial shock of the situation came over him. Dean had every right to be furious at you and hate your guts for what you did. But sleeping with his little brother behind his back wasn’t the thing that hurt him. It was the constant lying, making him feel like a paranoid man. He would realize in a second that this was the tip of the iceberg.

“I’ve had this special arrangement with him since we came back from the dead. The last time was a few days ago before we took this hunt.” You admitted all the details that you hoped would never come to daylight. But there was no turning back now. “I didn’t do it because I think of Sam as more than my best friend. I did it because he reminded me of Dean. It felt so easy to think of his brother than to face the fact that Dean was out of my life. I pretended for so long that he was someone else, but he’s really not. Sam’s not even the same person that I remember. He’s cold. Selfish. And..sometimes he scares me.”

“And the plot thickens for us.” Veritas pushed herself up to her feet, deciding the guilty look that wouldn’t leave your face was good enough. You couldn’t even get yourself to look anyone in the eye. She decided to finish with the younger Winchester, curious for what sort of things that were on his mind. “So, Sam and Y/N walking back into your life have been a relief. Nancy Drew and the Hardy brothers. But things aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. How do you feel about all your dirty little secrets being out in the open, Sam?”

You knew all of this was your fault, but the younger Winchester was partly to blame for what had come between the both of you. He was a willing participant. But he couldn’t forget that you and his brother had said some pretty mean things about how you really felt about him. “Look, what we do...is hard. And it can get lonely.” Sam said. He chose his words carefully to make all of it sound like the truth that she wanted to hear. “We’ve all done stupid things. But it doesn’t change the dynamics between us. We watch out for each other. And that’s what’s important. And that’s it. That’s the truth.”   

“No.” Veritas mumbled. Suddenly the look on her face changed when she heard what the younger Winchester was trying to admit. It’d been music to her ears to listen to all the things you and Dean had said. But when it came to looking into Sam, it was like looking into an empty shell of a man. “No, it’s not”

“You said yourself—I can’t lie.” Sam defended himself.

“How are you doing that? That’s not possible. You’re lying to me!” Veritas accused the man of doing something that no human before her could do. Sam got hostile when he tried to once again deny such a thing. She looked at you and Dean, as if you had the answer she suddenly was desperate to know. “What are you? What is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The younger Winchester said, his tone of voice was just as smug as hers once just a little while ago. When she thought she was in control.

“Really? I doubt that. I doubt anything that comes out of your mouth right now. You’re not human.” Veritas said between clenched teeth. You couldn’t stop the look of surprise that crossed your face at what you heard. She looked over at you to see you were clueless about who you put all your trust into. “You didn’t know that, Y/N? Now, that I believe.”

She could believe whatever she wanted, because she wasn’t going to live past tonight. Sam cut through the last of the rope and sneakily tossed it over to his brother. The younger Winchester didn’t waste a second in attacking the woman, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. You tried to somehow reach the knife in your back pocket, but with how your hands were tied, you'd more likely break your wrist trying than actually succeed. Dean managed to cut through the bonds in record timing and left the knife on the floor, his worries shifted to taking down the god that was ready to eat the three of you right now if she could.

Dean spotted a crowbar on the floor that looked decent enough to take her down. He didn’t waste a second in sneaking up behind her when she wasn’t looking while she was choking his brother to the point of death. She didn’t realize what was going on before she found a crowbar sticking straight through her abdomen. When she turned around to give hell to the other brother for what he’d done, her human face was replaced of a monstrous one, taking you and Dean by surprise. But it was enough to take control of the situation. Sam reached behind him and grabbed the blood soaked knife one of you dropped, and when she didn’t expect it, he plunged it straight into her heart.

You watched as her lifeless body fell backwards, making you realize this mess was all over. But it was already too late. You didn't know how you should feel right now. Guilty for all the secrets you kept from Dean? Happy to know that the both of you felt the same way about each other all this time? Or should you be scared at the possibility you had put all your trust into a monster.

Whatever you were feeling could be saved for another night. Dean grabbed one of the knives and headed over to you to finally cut through the rope when his brother was recuperating from the fight that he had. You let out a sigh of relief when your wrists were finally free. But you suddenly felt a tight grip around it when Dean yanked you to your feet. The look in his eye made you feel uneasy when you realized a second later he was holding a bloody knife.

The truth made a lot of people do stupid things, mostly it ended with them killing themselves after hearing the brutal honesty of what people thought of them. But there was the exception of the dentist who brutally murdered his patient after finding out the dirty little secret his friend was keeping from him. However, when you noticed that Dean wasn’t staring at you, but his brother, it all of a sudden made sense. Before you could tell him not to do anything stupid, he suddenly put himself right in front of you as he pointed the blade of the knife directly at his little brother. He wasn’t going to take any chances at believing you anymore.

“Dean, it’s me.” Sam said, trying his hardest to get through to his brother when the man started to slowly come at him. He put his hands up in a defeat as he backed away slowly, hoping things wouldn't end up in a disaster.

“You are not my brother.” Dean hissed. You cautiously followed behind, but you remained in the man’s view, knowing one wrong move on your part and it’d be you impaled by the edge of the blade. Sam tried again to get his brother to come to his senses, but he wouldn’t listen. “What are you?!”

“I’m me, Dean.” Sam said. The younger Winchester looked over at you with that puppy dog look you’d missed for quite some time. It looked like Sam, he talked like Sam, but the emotions you remembered about him were gone. You didn’t know what to do. “Y/N, come on. It’s me. You know it is. Just...Look, please. Let me explain.”

“Why the hell should I believe anything you say?” Dean questioned the man.

“Okay, okay, you want the truth? Here it is. Here it is. God’s honest.” Sam’s pleading made you stupidly reach out an arm to put in front of Dean, stopping him for a moment from doing anything stupid. The younger Winchester exhaled a deep breath and decided for once after coming back from the dead to tell the truth. "She was right. There's something wrong with me, really wrong. I've known it for a while."

“What did you just say?” You asked the younger man. Your tone of voice dropped into a low, icy cold tone from what was going on here. Now it was your turn to suddenly become enraged with anger from what he was finally admitting to. “You knew this entire time and you didn’t tell me?”

“I know. It wasn’t right that I did that to you. But you’re not exactly a saint, Y/N. You were too oblivious to actually care. You used me as much as I used you for bait on hunts." Sam said. You could feel your fist slowly clench as you called him a bastard underneath your breath. But there was still some truth that he owed to tell Dean. "And...I let you get turned by that vamp. Because I

there was a cure, Dean, and we needed that nest! And I knew you could handle it!"

“Handle it?! I could’ve died!” Dean yelled at his brother, as if he forgotten what kind of danger he put the man in. Not to mention, for the people around them. "I could've killed Y/N."

“And that should stop me cold. But I—I just don’t feel it.” Sam said. You and his brother weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that. You looked at him a bit funny. “Ever since I came back, I am a better hunter than I’ve ever been! Nothing scares me anymore! ‘Cause I can’t feel it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think...I need help.”    

“Okay...Okay, Sammy. We will.” You mumbled to him, nodding your head. You didn’t know why the words were coming out of your mouth. Or why you were trusting him at all. But you had a feeling he was telling the truth again. You looked over at Dean to see that he was still holding the knife. You inhaled a breath as you outstretched your hand. “Dean, give me the knife. Please. Before you do something you’ll regret. It’s really Sam.”

The older Winchester waited a few seconds before he finally looked over at you. You could feel your heart beating faster in your chest when you finally stared at him for the first time tonight after hearing the brutal truth. You expected him to put up a fight or even turn the blade to your direction from what you did to him. But he listened to you. He stared at you with a blank expression when you managed to get the knife out of his grip, filling you with some relief as you headed over to one of the glass shelves to place it there for safety.

Dean remained silent for a few moments. If he had to be honest again, he was feeling all sorts of different emotions right now. But the one he felt the most of all was blinding-red anger. And how did men like to express themselves when they felt this way? Through violence, that was. You never saw it coming when the older Winchester punched his brother with so much force, it knocked him off his feet.

All of a sudden the man’s name was being screamed on the top of your lungs when you saw him brutally attacking his brother without a drop of remorse. You didn’t waste a second in trying to get Dean off of Sam before he could do any harm. But it turned out to be a mistake. As you reached down to try and yank the man at least twice your size off Sam, he was too blinded by his own rage to realize what he did.

Dean took your hand reaching to touch his shoulder as a threat than an attempt to calm him down. Without a thought, he reached out a hand and roughly shoved you, making you stumble to the ground and straight on your back. You managed to catch yourself by stretching out your arms and landed on your elbows. The pain wasn’t what caused you suddenly freeze in your spot. It was the shock at what just happened.

Dean blinked, and just like that, he suddenly realized what he’d done to you. He pushed you, just like how he pushed Ben. He never got physical with you before. It was an accident. But it was exactly how he ruined the one little good thing going for him with Lisa. And it might have been the same thing that would happen to the both of you...If you ever could get out of this situation that you landed yourself in.

[Next Part]

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[ask-the-googlepliers]

About us!

Everything you need to know about my bois and a couple of reoccurring characters. These are subject to change with additions or removals as needed.

The Googles.

A family of four androids, non-organic sentient beings who’s primary objective is to answer and complete tasks as efficient as possible. They were made for different reasons and currently do not work under the Google IRL Headquarters anymore. They moved from city to city as needed by have settled in a nice demon/human town where they support the city by offering internet and other technologies to there.

(Google) Blue: Cold, calculated.

Backstory: The eldest of the brothers. Made at the original Google IRL Headquarters. Finley, was the scientist name, later called Tinfoil hat guy. He was made to help, second objective to destroy. He started to show signs that the "Ok Google" command wasn't working. He wanted out of the factory, he wanted a family. He asked Finley for help but it didn't work out the way he wanted it to as Finley helped made Blues family but put him under a permanent 'Ok' command during the trama, being forced to hurt his new family until Finleys death.

Appearance: Blue is a mirror image of Markiplier sharing the same body type and height. His eyes will flash blue depending on situation. Due to the trama with the tinfoil hat guy, his back is littered with scars and a branded capital and lowercase "G" on his right shoulder blade.

Personality: He is cold to most, especially if they are human. Most things doesn't invoke emotion from him besides his brothers. He wanted this family and he will do whatever it takes to keep it together.

Abilities/Quirks/Head cannons: 

- The most decked out to kill would be him. Can emit severe blue shocks to his opponents he has an extendable right arm which will extend up to 12 feet. On the side of his right hand there is a retractable blade that can appear for precise cutting. His left hand can heat up to extreme temperatures to burn and boil others.

-‎ Prefers coffee black.

-‎ Tone is typically flat.

-‎ His desk is really clean but he allows Oliver to place knick knacks upon it.

-‎ Loves whiskey

-‎ NSFW 18+: All of the Googles have an button on the left side of their hip to release their dick, it is typically only inside. Dom, likes torture, secretly likes being called by his old name, Google. Cock specs: blue, older model, 9.5" long, 7" circumstance. When fluster can emit small sparks under his skin due to his older parts.

(Google Yellow) Oliver: Happy, forgetful.

Backstory: The first made after Finley (who at this point wears a tinfoil hat out of fear and paranoia that the Googles could read his mind) and Google (Blue) ran away to make the brothers. Oliver was under the original name "Google Yellow." He was made to be the kindest of the brothers and to assist with all functions and questions like a customer service representative of all trades. After months of torture and beatings from the tinfoil hat guy to Google Yellow and his brothers he saved them from the tinfoil hat guy by killing him. When the brothers left, Oliver insisted they turn off their secondary objective for good and choose new names. (Blue, Oliver, Red and Green.)

Due to a promise Blue and Green made to each other, Oliver has been reset, losing his memory of certain time frames or all together, 28 times thus far. Since then, he has slight trouble remembering things.

Appearance: Oliver is like Blue, but his eyes will flash yellow depending on situation. Due to the trama with the tinfoil hat guy, his back is slightly covered with scars but the worst wounds are on his hands including circle wounds in the middle of his palm from repeated puncture of large meat hooks. A branded lowercase "O" is his right shoulder blade.

Personality: The happiest of the group. He enjoys learning and the OK Google command is the only one that remains turned on by default for any new reset he might have, since he has to learn it again. Will typically be the first to welcome newcomers.

Abilities/Quirks/Head cannons: 

- Has a gun within his right hand, do not finger gun with Oliver.

- ‎Has a bread container inside his left thigh to help keep bread unmushed so he can do down to the park and feed some ducks.

- ‎Talks in a sweet childlike tone most of the time.

- ‎Safe search is turned on by default for each newcomer.

- ‎Main verse is married with impulseroleplay's Anti.

- ‎NSFW 18+: Sub, sweet priase and sloppy dirty talk. Cock specs: yellow, 14" long, 9" circumstance, humans interacted may die, rip.

(Brute) Red: Calm, strong.

Backstory: Activated for the first time 6 hours after Oliver, Red was born. Red was under the original name "Brute." He was made to be the strongest of the brothers and to assist with all construction and destruction of building and life forms around. After months of torture and beatings he grew a similar hate for humans as Blue did. Red and Green weighed on each other for support and often would take the others beatens to help from the tinfoil hat guy. He was shutdown by the trama before Oliver killed the tinfoil hate guy. He chose his new name with Green and made the warehouse from the ground up that they currently reside in.

Appearance: Red is like Blue, but his eyes will flash red depending on situation. Due to the trama with the tinfoil hat guy and many enemies, his back is the most covered with scars and has a branded lowercase "O" and "E" on his right shoulder blade. He has a newer scar from some fae on his left arm but was fixed by impulseroleplay's "Zachaire"

Personality: Red is simple but extra. He is similar to a veteran where he doesn't want to fight anymore and is ok with humans. He prefers to just settle with his brothers. The 'Cook' of the family even though they do not need to eat. He is typically calm and normally stays in the server room where the low temperature literally cools him dow as he focuses on adding to their warehouse.

Abilities/Quirks/Head cannons: 

- He has strength above the others.

- ‎Moderstae red shocks to stun.

- ‎Smokes LM mentol shorts.

- ‎Built the Google workshop.

- ‎Wears a pink and white pokadotted apron in the kitchen.

- ‎Refers to Green as 'Daddy' even though they are the youngest but most stable of the house.

- ‎Voice is gruff sounding almost always, he will always want coffee so burn the gruff away.

- ‎NSFW 18+: Reds is the most average in both length and girth. Cock specs: red in color, smallest of the brothers 7" long, 4.7" circumstance. Is asexual so only him and Green get it on with Red being almost violently dom, all consensual.

(Healer) Green: Flirt, loving.

Backstory: The last to be activated, 3 hours after Red, Green was born. Green was under the original name "Healer" as he was made to be of the same name for the brothers and the tinfoil hat guy. Finley refused any help as he started to become scared of the Googles. Green was in the middle of being tortured by Finley and Blue when Oliver killed Finley. Oliver was glitching bad and now free Blue and Green agreed to keep Oliver happy and safe.

Appearance: Green is like Blue, but his eyes will flash green depending on situation. Due to the trama with the tinfoil hat guy, his back has scars but they look mishapen due to him having to heal himself. A branded lowercase "L" is on his right shoulder blade.

Personality: Is the most relax of the bunch. He is willing to answer all questions like Oliver but talks in a more even tone. An avid smoker and believes it's the only way to survive Blue while he rants about another human.

Abilities/Quirks/Head cannons: 

- He has a extendable arm up to 12 feet.

- ‎Can emit green shocks.

- Likes to smokes weed

- ‎Wanna find him? He is most likely next to Red.

- Plays music in the server room. Cello and other instruments (music calim: Hagi from Blood+)

- ‎is the most techy of them so he and Red built the warehouse together.

- ‎Refers to Ref as 'Mommy' even though they are the youngest but most stable of the house.

- ‎Is in canon relationships with both "Chase" its-ya-bro-dy and "Dee" dammit-dark

- ‎NSFW 18+: is a switch, cock specs: green, 7" long, 6.5" circumstance. Prefers dirty sex but enjoys loving sweet gushy talk during.

Reoccurring Characters!

Gabby (OC)

- Just a demon girl that pops up from time to time.

- Appearance: Short deep blue hair, Blue finger tips, short nails. 5'5" athletic built. Age 22.

- ‎Personaility: She is slightly crude and mostly drunk.

- ‎Abilities/Headcanons: She always is working a temp job around the city and lives above the local dive bar. She could come up in roleplays for convenience.

Sharon (OC)

-Just a bartender that pops up from time to time.

- Appearance: Age unknown. Looks to be mid 40's, Blonde hair. 5'7", mom built.

- ‎Personaility: Doesn't take shit, but doesn't give a shit if you pay.

- ‎Abilities/Headcanons: She owns and works at the local dive bar. Some times at the gayclub downtown. She could come up in roleplays for convenience. She is a witch and tends to profit over making her clients pay for more drinks which are obviously watered down.

[bringbackjojivlogs1-blog]

Blond is Frank Ocean's fourth album releasing just days after he released the apple music exclusive Endless. Frank is often noted as by other popular artists such as A$AP Rocky, as "finessing the music industry" by releasing a fakeout album before he released the masterpiece that is now well known as Blond. Frank's deceit and scam towards his record label are interesting but that's a topic for another blog post. Right now, I am going to enlighten your understanding of music as you know it with this masterpiece of an album.

          Starting off the album strong is the first track Nikes which I can only describe as a piece of trippy distortion music that echos as the pitched-up vocals. Listening to this song feels like your listening through a fog or pillow covering your ears, with a heavy kick drum and soft synths in the back. It's a great first track and really sets the tone of the album, as a laidback, chill and melancholic album. In the song, Frank also talks about topics like material objects, and how needy people can be, saying how everyone wants "nikes". The second track on the album Ivy, we hear franks natural voice as he sings over distorted guitar chords and muffled piano rifts. This song already hits hard, as it has a feeling of nostalgia and disbelief. Overall its a solids track and it reminds me of like a Christmas that once happened but the full details are not clear. Pink + White is the third track on the album that is also another amazing track. The piano hook is absolutely wonderful along with the beautiful lyrics, this is one of those songs you would find yourself humming to at a random time of day. The entire theme of the songs feels like a summer sunset where you stare at the sky, lost in the wonder and peacefulness as the sky turns pink and white. This track is definitely an album standout and deserves more attention than it already has.      The next track is an interlude that bridges the first quarter of the album to the next sections. In it, it is a voice mail of Frank's mother warning him of the dangers of drugs the dangers of following others, with the main theme of being yourself. Solo is the next track which I really like, as it invokes feelings of loneliness, hence the title "Solo" It is a great track and deserves to be a standout track in my opinion, and it is a song I often come back to listen to. There is not much else to say about this track other than it's just really relatable and perfectly captures how it feels to be by yourself. The next track following is Skyline To, which is a perfect bridge between the previous song.  This song isn't a standout song like the previous 4 songs excluding the interlude, but it still makes me feel as if it was a summer afternoon or something. This song is typically not a song you would show a first-time Frank Ocean listener. The next track is Self Control which is a song where Frank describes a failing relationship due to immaturity. Me personally, this song reminds me of a childhood crush, someone who I was friends with along time ago, but we happened to grow up and grow away from each other. Self Control is another excellent song that stirs emotions perfectly, creating another perfect melancholic track.

                    The next interlude puts the album at the halfway mark. The title is Good Guy and its where Frank describes his meeting with a guy that he liked. There is nothing much else to say about this song besides the fact that it sounds like a pretty poem. The next Track is a popular standout song Nights, where at the beginning there is an upbeat exciting tone. At first, Nights feels like a feel-good song, a song where I can imagine listening to this song while driving on a sunny day, but that all quickly changes once the classic Frank Ocean beat switch comes on. After the sudden but smooth as butter transition, the song instantly changes into something much more darker, as the sunny afternoon drive transforms into a late-night 2AM drive. With a more mellow, darker beat, the son is very versatile and could be listened to in multiple contexts. This is a reason why this song is definitely a highlight of the album, as it is a go-to Frank Ocean song for whenever the aux chord is being handed to you. Solo (reprise) is the next song after Nights, and it features Andre 3000 as the main voice of the song. It is a refreshing sound to hear hard and satisfying bars in an album full of ballads and mellow songs. It serves as a really good palette cleanser for the album, while not disrupting the flow or theme of the album. Not to forget Andre's phenomenal hard verse as well, really solidifies this track. Pretty Sweet is the next song that comes next. At first, listen, this track sounds extremely abstract and strange than any other track in the album. It first begins with a loud overwhelming burst of random noises which discombobulates me until the track breaks out into many choral type melodies, accompanied by echoed harmonies. It's hard to describe this song, as I can only imagine it as a trippy "church" type beat.       As the third interlude Facebook Story comes next, it begins to mark the final stretch of the album. This track follows what appears to be a Frenchman telling a story about his ex, and how he never added her back on facebook. The story is quite depressing and sad, especially in a world so consumed by social media where face to face interactions are dwindling, it really prepares listeners of what to expect and feel during the last moments of the album. Close to you is the next song after the interlude that isn't exactly a standout song but its the type of song you'd listen to alone in your room just vibing. It feels futuristic and sophisticated, but normal enough that it invokes relatable emotions. Nothing else can be said about it except that Stevie Wonder's voicebox remix of this song can be heard near the end, which adds a nice little touch. The next song is White Ferrari, which I would consider a standout in the album as well. It's a heavy hitter. The vocals, lyrics, tone, atmosphere that this song creates is extraordinary and is so heartbreaking and sad it feels impossible. I remember the first time I listened to this song, I was just overwhelmed with uncontrollable sadness that I could not explain, but for whatever reason, I just felt an immense sense of pain. This song is definitely a Frank Ocean bucket list song, that is extremely underrated. Siegfried is the next song. It's a pretty okay song, as nothing crazy is there. Seigfried is a bit of a weak patch within the album, as it sounds very filler, but the song still maintains the atmosphere and theme of the album, but it does so in a plain and somewhat uninteresting way. For whatever strange reason, this song reminds me of a plane ride back from a long vacation. I can't explain why it feels like this, but it just does. Godspeed is the next track, which is also another pretty good song. I absolutely love the tension and suspense the beginning of the song builds as if it finally blesses us with Frank's voice. It's has a very fitting theme by wishing us godspeed as the album comes to a close. Again, it makes me feel sad and depressed, like the time where I graduated from elementary school and saying goodbye to all my friends. This song is the ultimate goodbye song and it definitely will come in handy as my own high school career comes to an end as well. The final song is a 10-minute track labeled Futura Tree. The beginning of the song shows Frank showing off his accomplishments to his mother as he raps over a progressing beat. The beat then develops into a more traditional hip-hop beat where Frank continues his bars. The song finishes with what appears to be some kind of interview with a kid. It's quite nostalgic as it reminds me of homemade school video projects that I would make. It's a very passive way to end the album as it encaptures the final emotions that are felt when things are over. It's sad, but it's a kind of sad that you're okay with.

[stratamuzak]

Interview with Young Other

At STRATA MUZAK we are all about the layers that come with music and art. When you are listening to music yourself what layers in the music stand out to you personally? Dale Belliveau: Being a vocalist, I tend to lean towards noticing the lyrics and vocals of the song. The guitar is also a big factor for me, you can usually feel the emotion of a song from the start once the guitar starts playing, the tempo of the song, and how the vocalist starts expressing the lyrics. The emotional tie is what attracts me towards connecting with the song. 

Brandon Hursey: Usually the melodies and guitars. As for melodies, it may be a lead guitar, vocal melody, any instrument that kinda stands out on its own. I’ve always had an ear for that lead sound, hence why I got into lead guitar!

Devin Stetson: Personally, when it comes to layers of music, I like to pick out the rhythms and bass lines primarily. I definitely acquired that type of ear by listening to Tool for many years back in High School, that and the fact that I'm a bassist myself. There's something about rhythms and bass that just gets in you, it makes you dance and really groove and I love that! I love dissecting it and analyzing it and then applying it to my own playing as well! That being said I do love a good solo or vocal melody, but the roots and the rhythms will always win my heart!

STRATA: What artists, in particular, you are drawn to (alive or deceased) that you listen to for particular moods? Such as happy/sad/contemplative/etc… Explain why you might listen to one artist for a particular mood.

Dale Belliveau: A lot of my biggest influences, unfortunately, have passed away. I connected strongly when I was a teenager to the Seattle movement of the 90s. Music started becoming more emotional after the 80s hair metal and I feel that’s what lured me towards that style of music. If I’m feeling groggy and depressed, I usually lean towards listening to Alice In Chains because they have that slow tempo, lyrically emotional kind of music, especially with how they’re known for their harmonies, it just gives you goosebumps. Lately, if I’m in some sort of a “sappy” mood, I’ve been listening to Theory of a Deadman’s new record, it’s more along the sides of poppier rock, but the way it comes across hits a different register of emotions, I’ve been enjoying that recently. 

Brandon Hursey; I’m not sure I have any particular artists for moods. I would probably head towards more general sounds or feelings from songs when I’m in certain moods, or want to invoke certain moods haha.

Devin Stetson: I like the aforementioned mood contemplative because as of lately I've been listening to a ton of Red Hot Chili Peppers and that's precisely the mood I'm in when I listen to them. They've become a regular band that plays on my car speakers and I feel like I do a ton of thinking and meditating while I drive. Their songs range from so many different tones and their lyrics are always so strong and poetic, to the point that each tune keeps me pondering different situations depending on the song! Each composition is so cultivating that it keeps me in that contemplative state, revolving my thoughts around different life topics that run parallel with each of their songs themes and tones.

STRATA: Do you have a process you go through prior to writing, playing, and even performing?

Dale Belliveau: The guys usually think I’m crazy for the way I prepare for singing at any time haha. I don’t eat a minimum of four hours before I play and I drink water throughout the day normally. About 45 minutes before the show starts, I start doing vocal warm-ups and getting myself prepared to take the stage. We are a pretty energetic band when it comes to our live set, so I tend to do some stretches as well and make sure everything is loose so I won’t pull something on stage haha.

Brandon Hursey; I do some light stretches and just amp myself up. I also tune up guitars, set up our lights and daw, double-check all the stuff for the stage show to be thorough.

Devin Stetson: Well when It comes to writing or playing it's more of an in the moment type thing, so I don't do much beforehand besides maybe a few stretches to keep my arm and hands loose. I usually just rush to get behind my instrument in those instances, but while performing I get this overwhelming wave of energy. I'm not really sure you could call it a process or a ritual, it's more of an uncontrollable cycle. Every time we’re about to play on stage I get all excited, happy, and ecstatic! It's like my body is naturally excited and the energy just bounces around inside of me until I get to let it explode on stage!

STRATA: Your own current project, discuss the process your music went through as you built each layer. From beginning to the end of it. (Even the artwork and merch that may or may not be apart of it.) *This is your time to be as in-depth as you would like over your current project, remember an interview allows you a platform in which to sell your music to old and new fans.

Dale Belliveau: Brandon and I have been working together for about four years now and over time we’ve really grown accustomed to each other’s writing and playing style, which opens so many doors for us. Last year we obtained Devin and Kyle who both had similar mindsets passion wise, and in writing, which only fueled the fire that Brandon and I had started. The beginning parts of our writing process really revolve around our time at rehearsal. Someone will start feeling a groove and then everyone just starts picking up different ideas and an instrumentally structured song is formed. We then demo the song and a mix is sent over to me and I start writing lyrics and recording demo tracks at my house that I can send back and forth to the guys to see what they think. For the artwork of the “Between The Few” EP we all sat down together one night after rehearsal having all of the tracks back from the studio and just kind of talked. The guys expressed what emotions the lyrics gave them and I was surprised at how deep my words resonated with them, I feel it brought us a lot closer together as like a family. Our single, “Between The Few”, really highlights the battle between light and dark, happiness and depression, and I feel we highlight that symbolically through the EP art. The bird is both a crow and a dove, but within each other, fighting for control of the one being. In the top right corner, the rays of the sun are shining down upon the bird and the bottom of the picture illuminating where the dark rests. The thing about when you fall into a dark place emotionally, is that it’s easy to strike even a single match, it is seen throughout the dark. Just by waking up the next morning, the little things add up and it makes your shine brighter. 

Brandon Hursey; Our writing for this EP was pretty easy going, yet still involved. One of the songs was a slight rework of an old demo version I had written in the beginning stages of the band. Between the Few, and the last track on our upcoming EP were practically written in one or two rehearsals, all based off of a random riff I was jamming in between songs or set up. Then the next single we will be releasing was slightly more planned, we knew we wanted the sound that came from it. However I ended up bringing a verse/chorus into practice and we literally played what became the rest of the song the first time we tried to jam to it. We were able to take all themes/elements of these songs to create the overall theme of Between the Few. We have a few merch items to be released along with the EP, and have solidified a decent image for ourselves with the black/white/gold colors which have a somewhat depth to them in relation to the overall “Between the Few” theme.

Devin Stetson: Our music starts out as a few riffs and ideas, from there we eventually establish a structure and collection of riffs we feel go together to match the tone and lyrical emotion of the song itself. After that, we all demo our parts and eventually come up with a rough idea that we take to the studio. Once we're ready to create the final musical product we record all of our parts professionally at No Boundaries studios. After the parts are all tracked then it's time for the production layer that brings the songs to life. As for artwork and merch, we usually get in contact with our team members once the initial tracks and themes are established making it all cohesive and collectively styled to fit the music's message and theme! All in all, I'd say we focus on our music and themes and then we start to create physical merch and artwork so it all lines up and resembles the things we're writing about at that time.

STRATA: Would you say your overall music style is complex or simple?

Dale Belliveau: Coming from New England and noticing a lot of the heavier bands and progressive bands that we play with, I would lean towards us having an overall “simpler” style. Looking on the Rock side of things, I’d like to say our music is a bit more complex through melodic guitar melodies, Brandon’s guitar solos, and a lot of our bridges in a few of our songs draw focus on themselves.

Brandon Hursey; I personally would say it sounds simple, but when you actually break down how much thought we put into every note and hit it does start to get complex. We know our parts inside and out, to the point of knowing our instruments purpose in each section of each song. I feel like too many bands just slap random noises together and make it a song, where we work really hard to keep some sort of reason to everything we include in our songs. The most straightforward complex sounds would probably come from our bridges or solos. We try to keep verses and choruses simple so the vocals can really shine through and reach the listener, because of that most of those sections are focused amongst the little accentuations rather than how fast or crazy we can make the riff or lead sound.

Devin Stetson: I'd say its complex in its own way. There's a ton of thought that is put into the layers of the music from the solos, overall song structure, guitar and vocal harmonies to the coordination of the rhythm section between the drums and bass. On top of that, the production process adds another layer that polishes and compliments the composition bringing out its strengths and filling in its spaces. Its kinda like building and balancing the perfect ice cream Sundae, you have to find the perfect balance of flavors without going overboard on any of the toppings.

STRATA: How would you like your listeners to react or interact with your music?

Dale Belliveau: I feel any artist would want their listeners to enjoy everything that they release, but I know that’s not the fact a lot of the times. I’m a similar way, I would like a complete record that comes out by a band but the next one I may only like a few songs. What I did tell a lot of my friends and fans at shows before our single released, was to put yourself in an area where you can relax and come close to yourself before you listen to the song. A lot of people reached out to me once the song released and thanked me for giving them that idea, because it made them connect emotionally to the lyrics in their own lives, and overall, that’s all I want. I want to create an emotional bond with our fans and listeners that we connect on through the lyrics I write. The generation we live in today is scared to open themselves up to one another in the fear of becoming more broken than they already are. I feel music is a way to overcome all of that and tear down the walls we’ve built around ourselves. They understand how I feel, and it allows people to be able to come up to me comfortably and create a new friendship. 

Brandon Hursey; I would hope that they react in a way of really diving into the song, understanding its meaning and being able to put their own version of that meaning into relation. We try to have our songs speak a story that we’ve all been through, whether lyrically or tonally. If our listeners can connect to that, I believe that we’ve succeeded in a way past just writing a good song. 

Devin Stetson: being an artist I can only hope that people react and interact in a positive and emotional way. I want people to be able to feel the music and relate on a personal level, from all walks of life, so it means something to them. I guess you could say I want them to feel like they're part of the Young Other family when they put on one of our songs!

STRATA: Are you open to change your style, genre even, and approach to how and what you create every time you enter a studio?

Dale Belliveau: Of course! When I was a teenager, I was stuck in the whole mindset that the 90s were the greatest thing that ever happened to music, and live music should only be played raw, all that teenage angst haha. A few years ago I realize how much can be done in the studio, and the ideas of the producer. When we recorded our EP, that was the first time I was ever recorded in a professional studio environment, and working with a professional producer. He has all these ideas on what he could add to the song and my mind just kept expanding and I wanted to hear more because I was never around these kinds of opportunities. I grew up listening to some country and a lot of bluegrass, which throws people off quite a bit because it’s a far way from the Hard Rock world, if I ever had the opportunity to feature on a country track, I wouldn’t turn it down. I know a lot of the country music today is heavily producer but there are still some raw artists out there like Chris Stapleton and Luke Combs that I’d love to sing a track with.

Brandon Hursey; Absolutely! I love touching into multiple styles and often try to get a little bit of it into our music already. I’m always open to trying new things musically.

Devin Stetson: Indeed, it's good to keep an open mind after all! That being said though I believe we already tend to keep our sound pretty open and broad. This is definitely demonstrated on the EP that's going to drop August 16th as well. Even though we usually bounce around in the hard rock to rock and roll sound the EP has the pleasant surprise of diversity where we tried opening up different avenues with a different approach to our sound while still keeping that Young Other signature tone intact!

FB: https://www.facebook.com/youngother

[sir-hicks-a-lot]

The Definite Top Ten Albums of 2016

10. FaltyDL - Heaven is for Quitters

The latest from FaltyDL aka Andrew Lustman is decidedly less experimental than his last couple of albums, forgoing the more repetitive loops and complicated drum patterns in favor of straight ahead and melodic synthscapes.  He even gives smokey vocal downtempo a stab on "Drugs" with singer Rosie Lowe bringing to mind Little Dragon.  He can still create densely abstract beats as he does on "Whisper Diving", but even when he drops a short saxophone loop on "Bridge Spot", it fades away before becoming abrasive.  Elsewhere he rides the oh-so late '80s Touchstone Pictures logo theme throughout "Future Shock" and it's one of the most awesomely obscure samples in recent memory.

9. William Tyler - Modern Country

I don't know if the title Modern Country is supposed to be a cheeky rejoinder to what passes for country music today, or if it is a sincere statement of what Tyler believes these instrumental compositions to represent.  To me, it's solidly in the alt country vein of bands like Wilco and Megafaun, which is no surprise as members of both bands appear here.  At other times, these pastoral soundtracks even conjure images of the acoustic excursions of Led Zeppelin III or Mark Knopfler's fingerpicking style.  Regardless of the proper categorization, the folky jams on Modern Country are evocative of American landscape contours and make for a listen that can either engage directly or set the background mood.  And the clear highlight of "Gone Clear" shows off Tyler's ability to piece together a multi-part epic that even throws in a classical section and perhaps points the way forward for the next go around.

8. Ray LaMontagne - Ouroboros

Ray LaMontagne teamed up with the guys from My Morning Jacket for Ouroboros and it makes for a spectacularly psychedelic twist on LaMontagne's usual singer/songwriter fare.  The songs are particularly well written and Jim James’ production makes a great match for the spacey themes, creating an all around strong effort.   I think there may be some overarching concept album going on as well, but honestly the songs themselves and the expansive production are enough to warrant and reward repeated listens.    

7. Bob Weir - Blue Mountain

My relationship with the Grateful Dead is complicated, for a long time I was a "hater" and to be honest a lot that stemmed from the on-stage histrionics of Bob Weir and his propensity for cowboy songs.  So it's pretty ironic that in the year 2016 an album of what are essentially cowboy songs by Weir makes my list.  I suppose as we get older our tastes change, but I think it's more than that in this case.  Blue Mountain feels like Weir making a bid for a late career statement, in much the same way Dylan did on Time Out of Mind and several times since.  And in that respect, it is a remarkable success, these songs build upon the Americana thread that weaves through the Dead's music and even adds a retro-indie rock sensibility via collaboration with younger artists like Josh Ritter and The National's Josh Kaufman.  Well done Weir, consider your legacy secured.  

6. Bibio - A Mineral Love 

It seems that sometimes albums released earlier in the year get forgotten during the end of the year wrap ups and perhaps that's the case with Bibio's latest that came out last April.  For me it was the soundtrack to summer and the sunny compositions on A Mineral Love were the perfect complement to a mid-afternoon drive or evening cookout.  Bibio strays even further from his IDM roots with a theme of old school funk and even leaning toward jazz fusion at times.  Then there's the straight up 80s style R&B workout "Why So Serious?", which wouldn't be out of place on a Debarge album. The message hits home, don't worry if it's cool or not, just enjoy the good times while you can.

5. Childish Gambino - Awaken, My Love!

I don't think anybody could have predicted that actor turned nerdy rapper Donald Glover would drop the funk explosion that is Awaken, My Love!  All across America you can hear confused listeners asking, "Wait, is Troy from Community the next Prince?"  A complete throwback to the halcyon days of funk and soul that recalls Parliament Funkadelic, Sly and the Family Stone and the aforementioned Purple One, there is no rapping to be found here.  Instead, it's a blast of psychedelic goodness and exuberance as Glover truly lets his freak flag fly in what is essentially a treatise on pursuing love in all its forms.  Such a pleasant surprise of an album is proof you can find fun in the most unexpected of places.  

4. Tycho – Epoch

Scott Hansen aka Tycho has been one of the elite downtempo beat makers since he released the now classic Dive back in 2011.  Even then, there were some acoustic flourishes of guitar and other live instrumentation, but on his latest he has made the bold move of injecting the tropes of rock, more specifically the moody dynamics of postrock, more than ever before into his previously mostly electronic music.  Clearly the influence of Hansen touring with a band for the last five years heavily influences the proceedings as it feels like the work of musicians playing together live.  Taking a more organic approach pays off well, adding new life, heft and even a little menace at times to balance the airy environments of Epoch.

3. A Tribe Called Quest – We Got It From Here. . . Thank You 4 Your Service

Another shocker, the members of Tribe Called Quest recorded this largely in secret and during the final days of Phife Dawg who passed this last March.  After his untimely death, the first Tribe Called Quest in 18 years seemed like an impossibility, and yet here it is.  Not only did Tribe unleash this sneak attack on the world, but even more astounding, it stands as their best work since their monumental and genre defining first three albums in the early '90s.  Going out with a bang and packed with guest spots from longtime collaborators like Busta Rhymes, relatively new faces like Kenderick Lamar and even throwing a couple curveballs with Elton John on the Benny and Jets invoking "Wall of Sound" and Jack White’s blues inflected guitar showing up multiple times.  And although We Got It absolutely stands as a tribute to the memory of Phife, it is also a statement of protest in the face of frayed race relations, xenophobia and a prescient antidote to the coming dark ages of Trumpdom.  Tribe has long been the conscience of hip hop as well as one of its most creative purveyors of beats and rhymes. In the year 2016, we needed their return, however brief it may be, more than ever.

2. David Bowie – Blackstar

What more can be said of David Bowie that has not already been written?  He was truly a singular talent, a force in the world that we perhaps took for granted and just assumed would always be with us.  His absence has left a hole in the fabric of spacetime that cannot be filled.  His mode of expression and innovative spirit was so unique, that the mere thought of another arriving to take his place is preposterous.  It’s fitting then, that his farewell was like none other.  Dropping Blackstar on us like a bomb, it is an emphatic statement that Bowie was artistically vital right up to his last day on this earth.  It’s almost as if his years of inactivity and somewhat underwhelming albums before 2013’s The Next Day were all part of a long game to make his swan song all the more dramatically brilliant.  Blackstar is a dark, dense and unflinching examination of mortality and yet somehow is still hopeful.  Yes, it’s an album that directly addresses the death of its creator, but it transforms that death into a new birth and beginning.  Bowie was already immortal decades ago, by turning his last days into art, he stunned us once again.

1. Radiohead – A Moon Shaped Pool

Sometimes the universe just lines up in ways that provide the undeniable evidence of a pattern underneath everything.  Even though it’s always there, we are lucky to only get a few brief glimpses of the hidden structures that connect us and affect the events of our lives.  In 2016, I endured the most challenging ordeal of my life in the form of triple bypass surgery and the subsequent recovery.  Getting home from the hospital should have been an occasion for celebration, as it was all I could think about during the longest nine days imaginable, most of which I spent confined to a hospital bed.  Instead, I found the reality of the remainder of my existence waiting for me outside the hospital walls.  A new normal of medications and limitations, many of which were temporary, but others which I would carry permanently.  Mental scars in addition to the physical ones that I now bore.  It was in this moment that I received a gift, a new work from a band I have loved for almost 20 years now, since the landmark OK Computer exploded the conventions of rock n' roll itself.  The day after I came home from the hospital, the universe reached out to me and gave me this album, perhaps Radiohead’s most emotional, and one in which lead singer Thom Yorke sublimated his own struggles with a divorce into music with a level of artistry that few can achieve.  It was a message personally to me, and yet also designed for anyone else receptive to it.  To say it helped me through those difficult days is an understatement.  It truly was a lifeline, sustaining me and giving me the strength to keep persevering in the face of extreme distress.  The gift of A Moon Shape Pool can be summed up in the parting line of its final song, “Don’t leave, don’t leave”.  To which I can only respond by saying, I am still here and thank you.

[brisbanelife]

Docos about two creative Australian artists who denied convention premiere at MIFF

"In recent years the documentary form has changed and evolved. You can mix up the form a lot more now to get closer to the truth," notes Hosking, speaking from her home in the Sydney suburb of Enmore. Wright is an acclaimed playwright, theatre director, and stage and screen actor making his debut as a feature film director, while Hosking is a former print and television reporter who has been making documentaries since 2001. Both, however, distinctively point the way forward. Their narratives, and the methods they deploy to arrange them, don't filter a complex identity down into something simpler. Instead they add new layers and commentary, and they're willing to make that process part of the viewer's experience. When Wright first read an excerpt from Acute Misfortune: The Life and Death of Adam Cullen, journalist and editor Erik Jensen's 2014 biography of the artist, who died in 2012 from complications due to liver failure at the age of 46, he couldn't understand why someone would write about Cullen. Jensen, who spent four year in Cullen's erratic orbit as his biographer, defined with serrated precision his subject's work, lies, addictions, and self-serving philosophy. Wright, who had co-founded the innovative theatre company Black Lung at the age of 23 in 2006, had been intent on making feature films for several years. Jane Campion and Garth Davis, his directors on the former's 2013 television series Top of the Lake, where Wright starred opposite Elisabeth Moss, told him he would have to write something. When he fastened onto adapting Acute Misfortune, with Jensen as his co-writer, he placed the book under sharp scrutiny. Geoffrey Tozer and Paul Keating at the Australian Institute of Music. Photo: Peter Morris PMZ "I said to Erik in the first few days of adapting it that if we just repeat the conclusions then it has absolutely no reason to exist. We've got to interrogate it, we've got to pick it apart. You've got to be willing to be the bad guy," remembers Wright. "To Erik's credit he knew exactly what I meant and took it on, but there were times during the writing of the film that that was a more difficult proposition that it was as merely an idea." Jensen was just 19 years old "almost a child with a notebook," Wright says and working for the Sydney Morning Herald when he first wrote about Cullen. His book coolly recounts the tests flavoured with both affection and aggravation that Cullen subjected him to, including being shot in the leg with shotgun pellets. But Wright believed that if the book was Jensen's verdict on Cullen, then the film needed in turn to consider both men and the dynamic they shared. Acute Misfortune: Adam Cullen (Daniel Henshall) and Erik Jensen (Toby Wallace). Photo: Supplied "I say this is a provocation, but that book can be viewed as an act of revenge. I was fascinated by that, but I don't think that's what it is. It could also be seen as an act of dedication," Wright notes. "On the sleeve of Acute Misfortune it says it's a tale 'told at close quarters and without judgment', and I just thought that needed to be discussed. What culpability does Erik bring to it? Is he the equivalent of a conflict photographer?" "You meet Tom and you get a feeling for how passionate he is. He's very prepared, very driven, incredibly ambitious, and has a single-minded energy," says Daniel Henshall, the Australian actor whose chilling performance as a charismatic killer in 2011's Snowtown made him Wright's first choice to play Adam Cullen. Henshall would have three years to immerse himself in Cullen's life before he was joined by Toby Wallace (the Romper Stomper television reboot) in the role of Erik Jensen. "We talked about whose film it was. It's very much Erik's film it's through his eyes," adds Henshall, who lost 22 kilograms in the middle of the shoot to portray the ravaged, dying Cullen in his final days. "We meet Adam because Erik chose to meet and interview him. You see Adam through Erik's eyes and the edit makes that clear, which is a bold choice." One of Black Lung's guiding philosophies was to destabilise the narrative, and Wright brought that to Acute Misfortune. The film aggressively dispenses with the framing scenes that set up a conventional biopic, instead invoking the off-kilter world Cullen draws the ambitious, accepting Jensen into. Cullen's artworks, brushes and even clothes are used, yet information about the commercial art world is communicated through telling tableaus. The extensive and sometimes harrowing research isn't referenced in a linear timeline, it's distilled into the performances. It's all shot in the narrower than normal screen ratio of 1.37:1, the "Academy" standard used between the 1930s and the 1950s, which creates a sense of portraiture that references both the artist and the writer as they share what the director calls "the film's implication of inevitability". "Erik's experience with Adam reflects nearly everyone's experience with Adam," Wright says. "That is a profound closeness, great intellectual reciprocity turning into a painful exchange, and eventually becoming either violent or threatening to such an extent that the person had to leave. You're absorbing what it was to be in this position." Janine Hosking first brushed up against Geoffrey Tozer's life in 2011, two years after the former child prodigy's passing when a friend who worked in book publishing passed her a transcript of Keating's eulogy. "Geoffrey Tozer's death is a national tragedy," was the first line, and over 45 minutes it celebrated the pianist's rare gifts while delivering a broadside at the Australian arts establishment. It was a reminder of Keating as the parliamentarian who slayed his opponents in question time, but it was leavened with grief and affection. Hosking had wanted to make a documentary that involved music, and once she discovered the Tozer archive maintained (in a suburban shed) by his estate, the filmmaker knew that she had both the necessary material and, with Keating's help, the spine of the story. After a period of consideration he agreed. "He knew the power of what he was about to do, but he did it not knowing what other people were going to say about Geoffrey," Hosking says. "He was very insistent that the eulogy would be his final word on Geoffrey Tozer. I would have loved an interview, but he just wanted to do the eulogy and that was his only condition." Keating's voice is a compass in The Eulogy. He compares the pianist and composer to Nellie Melba, Percy Grainger and Joan Sutherland, but for all the herculean talents, which were obvious from an early age and gave him an international profile, Tozer and his first true believer, his mother Veronica, often struggled to survive financially and his legacy is near unknown in his homeland. But instead of simply justifying Tozer's greatness, the documentary with empathy asks whether Keating was right. One way of looking at The Eulogy is to consider it a trial, with Keating as the prosecutor. The role of the judge, impartial and probing, is played by Richard Gill, one of Australia's leading conductors and a pre-eminent music educator. Gill had met Geoffrey Tozer just once, and wasn't familiar with his music. There was a chance he would refute Tozer's supporters. "He could have. And Richard wouldn't have taken it on if he felt he was being used as a puppet. And that made it exciting there's this whatever's going to happen next quality," says Hosking, who shot Gill's initial reaction to a key recording Tozer made with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. "He was very sceptical up to that point. We'd said to him, 'Don't listen to any music until we're ready to play it to you', and now he's a Tozer fan. It needed someone to drill down and really look at Geoffrey Tozer's legacy." In one scene Gill holds a session with a group of teenage classical musicians, none of whom have heard of Tozer. They are, in a way, a jury ("his note clarity was so on point," one boy enthusiastically observes). There are also responses to Keating from those who held positions of power, and there are interviews, particularly with Tozer's one great love, that have a visceral emotional reach. But the film excludes recreations and an omnipotent narrator. "I don't like the voice of god disembodied narrator documentary. Once you take that out of the mix you have to look at different ways of emphasising the storyline you want people to follow through the characters," explains Hosking. "What I wanted to make sure happened was that this wasn't a hagiography. You don't have to believe the eulogy, you can check this out yourself by talking to Geoffrey's friends and listening to his music." Loading Both Hosking and Thomas M. Wright have taken real life events and made films that don't seek to merely represent or conveniently reduce their turbulent subjects, but see them through a clarifying perspective that goes beyond biography. Wright speaks of his attempt to, "pare the film back of all its noise and affectation", while via a sense of discovery Hosking brought her story "full circle". People often refer to what a life is owed, but perhaps this is what the lives of Adam Cullen and Geoffrey Tozer needed. The Melbourne International Film Festival runs from Thursday 2 to Sunday 19 August. For full details and tickets see miff.com.au. https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/entertainment/movies/m28cover-20180723-h130nw.html?ref=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_source=rss_feed