#had to do an inspiring spin on the end in typical me fashion

[faithfromanewperspective]

this is really interesting as 1) a nd whose Remembering Of Things really isn’t here right now and 2) a gifted nd kid (and I’m gonna write down what I remember, but I need to preface it with not every nd person is gifted!! and that’s okay)

something that really got me when I was younger and I guess less capable of being able to walk away whenever or create my own supportive circles is the way that well meaning people will be like ‘omg your mind’ when we do something a bit out of the box and creative. where it fits in some box of savant abilities. then assume a kind of privilege that means whatever struggles we have are simply not listened to—our neurodivergence is only valuable when it’s commodifiable and even then, no one wants to be part of sustaining that commodity they’d rather blame us for burning out. blame us for not having self regulation strategies when we’re hyperfocused on something and neglect self care, even though it’s other people who train us from a very young age to never listen to our bodies, keep pushing us when we’re tired etc. And every day I know how lucky I am to be able to keep doing what I love when I’ve seen so many people burn out and make themselves physically sick. I’ve learned to do what I need for self care without any validation, just the satisfaction that I’m not hurting myself out of malicious compliance to someone else anymore. but it’s so hard to do that when all I want to do is self destruct and be like ‘see this is what happens when I try to live up to your rules!! you don’t get this talent anymore, you’re the one who broke it!’

because what else am I supposed to do when I’m told I’m lucky when I’m struggling and then where there is injustice, prevented from shaking the status quo in order to do anything about it? my pda profile demands balance and whatever hurt I see in the world, I will take out on myself. when I’m told working harder and longer hours will help prevent the memory lapses from my adhd, which in fact only make it worse and seem like the failure is on my part, even when I did everything right? when burnout recovery still takes years even after getting off the self destruct train I’ve lived on for nearly a quarter century??

and so often this comes from people who are trying not to be ableist. who will scold me when I say I relate to a high support needs autistic person because we both have a pda profile, who tell me just not to do it when I’m being violent towards myself as if they can simply make me choose not to be like this person they don’t see me as like, they want to hide in the category of ‘other’ and dehumanise just a little. little do they know these are the people I choose to care for myself for. to get better so I can advocate for. and then they wonder why I feel so alone and don’t trust them like. you broke this decades ago by what you did to my nd tribe—and I don’t care that what you did to me personally was minimal in comparison. I’m not going to let the apology that you have now mean you get what you want, me on the side of ‘normal’ when I’d rather not have your expectations and your ableism and watch you exclude others. I’d rather be free

Coming to terms with the fact that society hates autistic people

I just saw some comments that were like "If you're autistic, neurotypical people hate you" and "growing up as autistic in our neurotypical society is almost always inherently traumatizing." And you know what? I absolutely agree. It really resonates with me to hear fellow autistic and generally neurodivergent people talk about the hate, rejection, misunderstanding, and even dehumanization we receive from most neurotypicals.

My entire childhood was spent being the "weird girl" until I got good enough at masking to fit in better. Even now, as an adult, I get negative comments from my own (neurotypical) parents when I display certain neurodivergent behaviors. My family is always like "that's so Katy" and shake their heads when I act "too" autistic and it feels so fucking patronizing. I've had negative experiences and even disciplinary action at jobs I've had for exhibiting neurodivergent behavior (usually related to my ADHD, but sometimes autism too). My entire fucking life I've been told by society to not act too much like myself or else I'll put everyone off.

And then you see people being sympathetic to the parents of autistic children who abuse or even kill them. "It's sad, but it's understandable" neurotypical people say. Videos of autistic children having meltdowns are full of people saying that they should be locked up because they're no better than animals. We're seen as a burden, a drain on society, who are only tolerated if we learn to act "normal" and don't make the neurotypicals uncomfortable. Autistic people are front and center in "cringe" compilations and are ruthlessly bullied.

If I'm being honest, I'm still unlearning a lot of ableist thoughts that were instilled in me growing up. I sometimes catch myself thinking that other autistic people are annoying, and I have to stop myself and think "Do you really find them annoying, or were you programmed to be dismissive of people who don't act neurotypically enough?"

Anyway, idk where I'm going with this text wall. The older I get, the more I become aware of how much I've been harmed by an extremely ableist society, and it breaks my heart that more neurodivergent kids are being taught to suppress their true selves the way I was.

[smashboxgirl26]

vengeance / chapter 2: saving

summary: after being told on to move on with his life by his greatest inspiration, midoriya's life took a darker turn than expected. years later, when he finally comes in contact with the person he believes destroyed everything, he swears that he'll ruin everything they've worked and stood for — though your presence does help.

chapter 1: meeting | chapter 3: watching vengeance masterlist

Y/N L/N.

 It rolled off Midoriya’s lips constantly now, like he knew you personally. And in his mind, he did — he’d figured out enough about you when he’d met you that day about two weeks ago. It was enough that it kept his fantasies fueled in hopes of seeing you again. 

And if there was anything that he’d learned from romance novels, it was that a meeting would be produced organically if it was fated to be something real. 

The problem? He was losing hope now, and it’d been two weeks.

He should’ve asked for your name while you were in the bookstore, he should’ve written his number down in one of the books, he should’ve tried to ensure that you would come back to see him — but he did nothing. 

He didn’t want to look you up, despite having your name, because he needed a sign that it was actual chemistry between you, and that he wasn’t being delusional like he always was. 

But the problem with that idea was that you wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d see you out of the corner of his eye and then you’d disappear. Whether or not it was his imagination was a different story, but he knew the fact that you wouldn’t leave him alone had to mean something. 

Which is why when he saw you stumbling out of a bar one night, he felt his chest flutter.

The universe had given him his sign. 

You, on the other hand, were struggling. 

Struggling not only to stand up and take easy steps away from the bar, but also in trying to get your head to wrap around what’d just happened. Your heart was in your throat as you stumbled out of the bar barefoot, with your heels in hand. Gripping the edge of your dress tightly, you walked out onto the rough sidewalk — trying to give yourself a chance to breathe something other than the stuffy air of the building.

The world around you was spinning and blurred, though you could make out the flickering street lamps that sat at the sides of the street. Everyone who passed ignored you, in typical public fashion, unconcerned with the strange, drunk girl who looked like she was about to pass out on the sidewalk. 

Goddammit your head really hurt. What was in that drink?

You swayed forward anyways, trying to get as far away from the door as possible before it was opened again. 

But in your heavily drunken state, you were only able to take a few steps before the door opened and you heard the man call out from behind you. 

“Hey! You were asking for it you bitch! You sat there with all that makeup caked on trying to impress somebody — and then you pushed him away the second he came!”

“Shut the fuck up!” you swung back around at his words. “I didn’t ask for you to buy me a drink! I literally said no and you kept insisting! You kept fucking pushing so I had to say yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m automatically gonna sleep with you!” 

You couldn’t make out much of his face anymore from how bad your head hurt combined with the way you were swaying side to side. You could barely make out that he was walking closer, but in your dazed state there wasn’t much you could do. It felt like you weighed a thousand pounds, and you just wanted to drop to the floor. 

The man suddenly gripped your arm, spinning you around to face him again. 

“Look baby, just relax now,” he spoke, and you only realized how close he was when you could feel the alcohol in his breath hit the side of your face. “Don’t fight it babe, I’ve got you. Come to my place and I’ll take care of you.”

“No.” You pulled away from him with as much strength you could muster, though you ended up stumbling over your feet and almost falling.

Your eyes wanted to close so badly.

His arms were back around you in an instant, unrelenting in their grip around your waist, as bile threatened to rise up in your throat. Your body felt too heavy to pull away, and a few tears spilled without permission down your cheeks. 

“No,” you whispered, weakly pushing at his chest. You just didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Don’t cry baby,” the man cooed. “I’ll take good care of you.” 

He was reaching his hand out to try and wipe the tears away — but before you could feel the rough skin of his fingertips feel your cheek, his hand was slapped away, and you found yourself ripped out of his grip as your mind spun to try and keep up.

“She said no. I think you should listen,” a hard voice spoke.

The man lost his attention on you, and turned to look at the man who’d stepped between the situation with a snarl. You looked up to your savior with surprise — you knew him. You’d met him in that bookstore.

“Back the fuck off,” the man jabbed a finger into the bookstore guy’s chest. “This is between me and this bitch. Mind your own fucking business.”

It looked like he’d expected that to scare the bookstore guy off, since his chest was puffed and he looked like was about to win.

“Would you like it if I called the police then?” The bookstore guy pulled out his phone. “I’m sure they would be very interested to know that you’re still persisting with her after she kept saying no.”

The man’s eyes narrowed into slits, as he turned to look between you and the bookstore guy with a growing scowl on his face. 

He scoffed under his breath before stalking off, making sure to hit the bookstore guy’s shoulder while muttering under his breath, “Whatever, she’s ugly as fuck anyways. Not worth any of the goddamn trouble to get laid.”

He’d said it in a way to make sure that both of you heard it, and the bookstore guy visibly tensed once it'd left his mouth — almost ready to go run after him.

“Thank you.”

Midoriya had been so ready to chase after the man for saying something so brainless (as literally anyone with eyes could see you were attractive) — but your small whisper stalled him in his tracks. You were looking up with him with wide eyes and a sense of relief twisted in your expression; he’d almost forgotten that he needed to help you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he gently steadied you on your feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, now,” you let out a large breath, trying to regain your footing. The feeling of his hands over yours was so much different than the man’s, they were so tender and caring in the way they tried to remain in as little contact as possible, only trying to keep you standing up straight instead of pushing or pulling you without your consent. 

“I–I know you,” you finally spoke, and Midoriya’s eyes widened.

It was a sign.

“You were the guy at the bookstore, I don’t know if you–”

“I remember you,” he chuckled, a smile resting on his face. “Camus.”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

Izuku couldn’t help his grin from becoming wider. This was the sign he’d been waiting for. And if you weren’t standing there right next to him, he perhaps would’ve been jumping and screaming Thank You at the sky for telling him it was true. 

It was a short lived feeling though, when you suddenly doubled over and had to throw up in the bushes on the side of the street. Midoriya scrambled to your side as quickly as he could, trying to keep your hair out of your face while you coughed out your dinner. 

You averted your gaze when you finally finished, consciously wiping your face out of embarrassment. “I’m so sorry about that I–”

“No, no no, don’t worry about it,” Midoriya waved you off quickly. “It’s fine. Here uh, are you alright? Do you want some water or something?”

“No, you don’t have to–”

“It’s fine,” Midoriya finished. “There’s a convenience store on the other end of the street, can you walk?”

You finally found it in yourself to nod, and you followed behind him slowly due to the rough parts of the sidewalk. Your head wasn’t spinning anymore though, so it meant whatever had been put into your drink was gone with your dinner.

Midoriya quickly noticed why you were behind him, and picked you up despite your protests. At that point, there wasn’t much for you to do but wrap your arms tighter around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder. His warmth was a good change from the cold night. 

On a normal day, you wouldn’t have even let him buy you the water — but you were basically falling asleep, and even if you didn’t know this guy, he already seemed more trustworthy than the other one. 

You were jolted slightly awake when he placed you down on a bench outside the store, barely hearing when Midoriya told you to stay there and to try not to fall asleep. You nodded weakly, watching as he ran in with your eyes threatening to close.

It was so hard not to, with how dark this side of the street was, how the wind felt like it was lulling you to sleep, and how quiet it was outside…

Before you knew it, a water bottle was poking at your lips as he urged you to drink at least a little.

You were able to drink a little bit, enough to keep Midoriya satisfied, before you rolled over to your other side and promptly fell asleep. 

Midoriya only stared at you in wonder as you breathed slowly, watching how your chest began rising and falling in rhythm after just a few moments. Even under the weak light of the street lamps, he could see how perfect you were.

He couldn’t really help himself from staring up at the sky and smiling. 

This was his sign. You were meant to be together, and he was meant to protect you. 

There was such an innocence about you, one that reminded him of himself when he was younger. If he could be the one protecting you, he could save you from the cruel realities that littered the world. Things that he experienced that he never wanted anyone else to go through. 

He carried you back to his apartment slowly and carefully, savoring the moment under the moon as he watched the clouds pass overhead. 

Thank you, Universe. 

____________________________________

You didn’t wake up after that, so it was easy for Midoriya to place you into his bed and close the door behind him. The couch wasn’t that comfortable, but he would happily do it for the idea of you sleeping in the same sheets he did. 

It took a moment for him to compose himself, but as soon as Midoriya did, he pulled out his laptop and made himself a cup of coffee. 

He needed to know more about you. He’d restricted himself from looking you up for two weeks already, and now the curiosity was burning harder than ever. He needed to know what you liked and disliked, what you were into and what you thought was stupid, who your friends were and how they influenced you (he knew you were the one being influenced) — he needed to make himself perfect for you: present himself as the perfect, nice guy that made all your problems disappear.

Not to mention, if he was going to protect you, he needed to know what to protect you from. 

So he started on Instagram — typing your name in and clicking on the profile with your picture. It was far easier than he thought it was going to be (something he needed to address), and it was set to public, which meant he was basically able to look up anything he wanted. 

The pictures at the top of your profile were normal, with either you posing in front of a building, sitting at the beach, reading a book, or hanging with your friends. And only from those, he was able to pick out the basics of who you were.

You were 25, which was the same age that he was. You were still a student, and had a part-time job as a secretary at some agency. You were smart, a medical student studying biology.

Your internet persona was almost perfect, but there was something about the way you smiled in your pictures that seemed off. Compared to your genuine smile, it was nothing — it all seemed forced after he’d seen the way you talked and interacted in real life. 

There were a couple of recurring faces that appeared on those top photos, who Midoriya easily guessed to be your “friends” — each of them looking to be bad influences in their own ways. 

There was some brown-haired girl that appeared most often, whose name was Camie Utsushimi, and it seemed like you’d known her the longest. She’d gone to Shiketsu, and was now working at another agency under some hero — because of course you were smart enough to become friends with heroes. Everything about this Camie girl seemed to be a red flag, like the fact that she never deleted the posts with her ex boyfriends, and that every other night she seemed to have a new one. You seemed to be one of the only recurring faces on her page, along with a few others. 

There was a specific one with the both of you squeezing each other in a hug, smiling towards the camera with another girl and guy hanging behind you. Clicking on their profiles, Midoriya learned their names were Mina Ashido and Seiji Shishikura.

Seiji Shishikura seemed relatively normal, but he’d also gone to Shiketsu — leaving Midoriya with the question of how you knew all these people since you were a civilian. It wasn’t normal for civilians and the people in the hero industry to interact like you all were — unless you’d also gone to Shiketsu but opted to not become a hero? He’d have to see about that later. 

Mina Ashido, unsurprisingly at that point, was another hero that you’d become friends with — but Midoriya was in for a surprise. First of all, she’d gone to UA, and thinking about that alone was starting to make Midoriya’s blood boil thinking of his own attempt at joining. But as he scrolled through her profile, he almost gasped when he saw a picture of you and her with a group of other guys. 

Specifically, a guy with blonde hair and red eyes.

Katsuki Bakugou. 

But even worse, he’d wrapped his arms around your waist with his head resting over your shoulder while you giggled and smiled at the camera. 

In an instant, Midoriya was back onto your profile, scrolling past those first few rows of posts to uncover a truth he should’ve realized in the first place; you were dating Katsuki mother fucking Bakugou.

In one picture he was hugging you, in the other he was kissing you, in another the both of you were sitting at the beach, and the other he was picking you up from behind, yet in another he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and there was another with you kissing him on the cheek, and in another—

Midoriya’s mind spiraled as he quickly closed the laptop, his heart shattering into a thousand tiny pieces in an instant as he turned to face the door of his bedroom where you were laying. 

You were with him, of all the goddamn people in the entire world you just had to be with him. The worst person in the entire world who’d ever existed — the person who’d practically broken his entire goddamn life. 

Midoriya gripped his hair in anxiety as he stood up from the couch, pacing between his living room, his eyes glancing between his now closed laptop and the room in which you were sleeping in. 

You were everything Katsuki Bakugou was not. He, of all people, would know that. The only question that rang in his mind was if you knew everything that Bakugou had ever done. Were you aware of all the pain that he caused? Were you aware of how he used to bully people? Were you aware of how he’d ruined his entire life?

Midoriya couldn’t imagine that you did, considering that you probably would’ve left him if he told you.

Which could only mean one thing — he was manipulating you. 

There was no other explanation. How could someone seemingly as perfect as you be with someone who deserved absolutely nothing from the rest of the world? There was something he was holding over you, something that he’d done that made the both of you stick together without actual reason. 

Maybe you called it “love”, but Midoriya had realized what it actually was: Bakugou was using you for his own benefit and soiling you in the process. 

You were being ruined and you didn’t even know it!

And it was then that he realized that it was fate. 

It was fate that you'd walked into the store that day. Fate that you'd caught his eye the first time. Fate that you happened to be captured in the clutches of one of the worst people in the world. And it was at that moment, he realized what his purpose was. 

He was going to protect you. He was to save you from everything that was out to harm the innocence you held, in a way that no one could do for him. 

Midoriya couldn’t stop himself from stalking closer towards his room, opening it to see you sleeping in the same position he’d left you in.

He reached out to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb over the skin gently, watching the way you nuzzled into his warmth even in your sleep.

He couldn’t let Kacchan ruin you, like he’d ruined him. He was going to protect you, even if it was from yourself.

[dkscribe88]

Tavronica Week Prompt 7: AU

And now, for my final entry for this year’s first annual Tavronica week. I decided to set it in modern times. They’re still on Thra and still Gelfling, but they’ve adopted a way of life similar to humans, including going to college and playing sports, such as ice hockey. Tavra is team captain, single, and focused on helping her team win the final game of a tournament against their rivals, lead by Tolyn. Onica is a Psychology student who recently became single and is dragged to the game by her best friend, Tae. Tavra always seemed like she would be a jock if she were real, and the only sport I really ever played was ice hockey, so I decided to write her playing it. I hope you like this last fic. It’s been a blast writing for this event, and I’m proud to say I met my challenge of 7 prompts for 7 days. Can’t wait to do it all again next year! So now, sit back and enjoy my final entry for this year. Beware, it’s the longest one yet.

The roar of the crowd was deafeningly loud throughout the halls of Ha’rar State University’s hockey stadium. Flooded with fans of both the home team, the Ha’rar State University Fighting Paladins, and visiting rivals, the Sami Thicket University Landstriders; the atmosphere was tense. It was the finals of a two-day tournament. Both top seeded teams played two games the day before, easily routing their opponents. Their head-to-head battle had always been assured, the latter two games merely a formality. Both teams stared daggers at each other whenever the Paladins locked eyes with a Landstrider. There’s bad blood between these rivals, the wound freshly opened after what had transpired a few hours before…

-------

Earlier in the day, the home team had arrived two hours before they were to hit the ice, hoping to do some warmup exercises in their locker room before suiting up, only to discover that the whole place had been destroyed. Bags had been dumped out, equipment strewn randomly throughout the room, and jerseys were being soaked by the showers. Their hockey sticks were no longer in the racks, and no one would have found them, had the team not experienced this sort of attack before. The Paladin’s team captain, defenseman Tavra just sighed before casting her gaze upwards, confirming that the sticks were indeed glued to ceiling.

“Sheesh, they could’ve at least come up with a more original way of wrecking our stuff. C’mon guys, cleanup positions. Ready? Go!” The team quickly got to work straightening things, accomplishing their tasks efficiently, having done so many times before. They kept a scraper and a bottle of nail polish remover taped under one of the benches for occasions such as this, which easily dissolved the super glue. It took a little longer to get everything back in order this time though, as the Landstriders had taken the time to remove the tape from their sticks before gluing them. It was a tedious task, retaping everything, but Tavra and her crew knew everything needed to be perfect, or they wouldn’t stand a chance. STU’s captain, Tolyn the Terrible, did his best to crush anyone that stood in his way, using any means necessary. The Landstriders led the league in both penalties and player ejections. They’d already given four different Gelfling concussions, ending the player’s seasons early, and in one case, ending it for good, the injury so severe it caused brain damage, forcing the player off the team and out of school altogether.

Forty minutes later, the locker room was back in usable condition. Tavra took her place in front of her team.

“Alright! Everyone get in line for warmups. First, we stretch, then after that 20 jumping jacks. When I say go. Ready? GO!”

-------

Meanwhile, at the campus dorm rooms…

“C’mon, Onica! It’ll be fun, I promise. The game is going to be great and there’s gonna be a sick afterparty, with lots of hot gelfs for us to hit on, so let’s go, please? You need a new girlfriend, or at least someone to take your mind off Effiny and I need to get my flirt on. It’ll be good for you to get out.” Tae had been trying to convince her friend to attend the game with her for the last few hours, not wanting to go by herself.

“But I’ve got that test coming up for my Developmental Psychology class and I haven’t even studied for it yet.” Tae rolled her eyes.

“You’ve never had to study for any of your Psych classes before. You know every bit of that material frontwards and backwards, sideways, diagonal and upside down. If that’s your best excuse my victory is assured.”

“But I won’t even be able to get into the afterparty. You have to know someone on the team to attend and I don’t, so I see no reason to go.” Tae refused to give up.

“That doesn’t matter! I told you, I know the goalie. Zili promised that if we showed up, she’d get us in. Zili’s a bit weird, which she claims is a common trait amongst goalies, but she’s also true to her word. Please, I don’t want to go alone.” Tae had been nice so far, but it was time to pull out her secret weapon. She kneeled down next to Onica’s chair, lower lip jutting out in a pout, eyes turned up in a begging fashion, glistening with small tears in their corners. Onica had to give her style points for being able to cry on demand. She tried to turn away, but there was no escaping the power of the fizzgig pout. Unable to fend off the adorably cute assault any further, Onica let out a groan.

“Ugghhh! Okay, fine! I’ll go. But you owe me. More than one.”

“Yes!” Tae jumped up, giving her roommate and best friend a hug. “Thank you so much, Oni! There’s this new guy on the team, Galen, and Zili’s promised to help me get a chance to talk to him. Oh, I can’t wait for you to see him, he’s so dreamy. He’s tall, and Sifa, like us, with some Spriton and Vapra mixed in. He’s got beautiful tanned skin and dark hair with little bits of silver here and there, ooh-hoo-hoo just the thought of him makes me quiver!” Onica gave her friend a look of disbelief and slight disgust.

“Sounds like a creep if you ask me.”

“No! No, he’s not, actually. Zili said he’s really kind and soft spoken most of the time. When he does talk, he’s so deep, and he’s got a great sense of humor, too.” Onica smiled at her then, reassured of Tae’s choice to pursue this guy.

“I can’t wait to meet him, then. I hope you find happiness this time Tae. I’d hate for you to be stuck with someone who doesn’t appreciate you.” Onica’s face turned slightly sullen, then. Tae put a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you talking about Effiny? Onica, that girl has serious issues with where her priorities lie. She didn’t know what she had, being with you. But soon, Onica, someone will come along who loves you for you, I’m sure of it. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet them tonight. So, come on. To the game!” Tae jumped into a pose, pointing dramatically towards the door. Onica gave a small laugh, before getting up and ready for the night’s activities.

The two young women made it to their seats as the two teams warmed up on the ice, each circling around their zone, while some fired pucks at the goalie, who easily blocked them all, giving Zili a confidence boost to start off with. Tavra was gliding along on her skate’s edges, keeping an eye on her own players, looking for signs that each was ready, and smirking when she found they were. She got in line to shoot then, firing right from the line in a slapshot, typical of her defensive position. She’d placed a spin on the puck, causing it to look as if it were warping in the air as it curved toward Zili’s glove side. Tavra nearly got it in, but at the last second, Zili’s eagle eyes tracked it and she caught it neatly in her mitt.

“Nice try, Captain! Maybe next time, yeah?” Zili teased her. Tavra smacked her stick against the goalie’s pads affectionately before gliding off to the back of the line, only to freeze as a sinister gaze met her own.

“Tolyn,” she whispered bitterly. The big jerk was Spriton, tall and strong, or in Tolyn’s case brutish. The sound of ice being carved sounded from behind her, letting Tavra know her two assistant captains had her back.

“That guy almost makes me ashamed to be Spriton.” Kylan muttered, glaring with all he had at the man, who only sneered back.

“Don’t let him get to you Kylan. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you this time. I’d never hear the end of it from my brother if I did.”

“You’re damn right about that, Naia.” Another player had joined the assistant captains.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, Gurjin. You ready to rumble?” Naia asked her brother.

“Oh, you know it. Gotta get revenge for them breaking my poor Ky Guy’s arm.” Suddenly, the scoring siren went off, signaling the players to leave the ice as it’s resurfaced in preparation for the game’s start. The Paladin’s gathered once more into their locker room. Tavra, Kylan and Naia stood up front as everyone else kneeled, waiting to hear some inspiring words from their captain.

“Ok, we’ve got a tough game ahead of ourselves here, people. We know just as much as anyone else that the Landstriders don’t fight fair. Expect attacks from all sides and keep your guard up. Their goalie is weak on their stick side, so do your best to aim at the space between the arm and torso, as well as high on her right side. Stay away from that glove hand, it’s too good. Now raise your swords, gelfs…” Everyone’s sticks rose in the air. “Brave paladins of HSU, are you ready to defend yourselves, your honor, and your school?” The team let out their best roars of approval. “Are we ready to face the beasts in battle, skate blades sharpened, sticks taped?” Another roar resounded throughout the room. The coach signaled for the group to head out for introductions.

“Ok gelfs, charge!” The Paladins stormed out of the locker room, cheering wildly, though it was completely drowned out by the outrageously raucous crowd. The visiting team was just getting finished with their introduction.

“And, at center, the Landstrider’s leading scorer and captain of the team, number 66, Tolyn!” Loud boos overwhelmed any cheers there might have been for the Spriton center, causing him to shake his stick angrily at his many detractors.

“And now, the roster of our very own home team, the Ha’rar State University Fighting Paladins!” The crowd cheered loudly in response. “For the tertiary line, at left wing it’s number 86, Mira!” A thin Vapra girl quickly skated out on the ice, waving to her fans. “On right wing we’ve got number 18, Deet!” A Grottan girl and Rian’s girlfriend skated over to bump gloves with Mira. “And at center, number 8, the incomparable Rian!” The Stonewood skated out strong, charming all the ladies as he waved to the crowd. “For our secondary offensive line, we’ve got our newest player, number 45, Galen!” A Spriton, taller than both Kylan and Tolyn skated reservedly onto the ice. “Coming in on right wing like a thief in the night, it’s number 13, Periss!” The youngest of the team, a Dousan boy with a rakish attitude glided out, taking bows and throwing kisses as he went. “And, at center, number 7, Bold Gurjin!” The great oaf was light as a feather as he slid past his teammates, giving Kylan’s helmet an affectionate smack as he passed him. “And now for our secondary defenseman. On the right, give it up for number 3, Brea!” Tavra’s younger, bookish sister skated calmly into place, absorbing any information she could about her enemies. “And on the left, it’s number 69, ladies let out a cheer for Rek’yr!” The tattoo-faced man skated grandly into place, blowing kisses to his many lady followers, who screamed in response, one of them fainting.

“And now, everybody give it up for our starting roster. On left wing, we’ve got number 4, the mysterious and shadowy Amri!” Amri had already snuck into his place in line at this point. “On right wing, number 32, our ever-melodious Kylan!” The lanky Spriton skated calmly into place, doing his best not to be intimidated at the sight of Tolyn pretending to slash his throat, the universal bully sign for ‘you’re dead meat’. “And at center, number 17, it’s Fierce Naia!” Naia charged onto the ice, letting out a growling war cry as she bumped gloves with all her teammates, nearly knocking some of them over in her zeal. “And starting for the defense, we’ve got number 49, Ellis!” A Vapra senior a few years older than Tavra skated out. “And don’t forget his partner, your favorite player and mine, that devastating lavender tornado, the Tremendous Tavra!” The crowd got even louder somehow as Tavra regally entered the rink, smiling at her comrades and looking disdainfully over at her opponents. “And last, but certainly not least, that eccentric and crazy girl you know and love, the goalie, number 00, Zili!” Zili skated out powerfully in her heavy goalie pads, ready to protect and defend her net with all she had.

“Whoo! Yeaaayuhh, let’s do this!” Zili riled up the crowd even more, forcing the officials to wait several minutes until things died down to start. The Skarith Land’s flag was lowered down over the rink by wires, as the country’s national anthem played. Once it was over, the teams headed for their respective benches while the captains of each team came and shook hands. Tavra took her hand out of her glove, offering it to Tolyn, who merely scoffed at it and took off to his own bench. Tavra looked at Kylan and Naia.

“Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.” The three skated over to their team, who were being given a last-minute pep talk by Coach Madso.

“Alright, lads and lassies, get out there and follow the plan. Don’t let them goad you into penalties we can’t afford. Stay onside, and for Thra’s sake, protect each other. We don’t need anymore broken arms, right Kylan?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

“OK!” Tavra barked. “Sticks in!” Everyone gathered in a circle, sticks placed in the middle, pointed downward. “Paladins on three! One, two, three-”

“PALADINS!” With that, the other lines went to the bench and the starters to their places. The referee checked to make sure each goalie was ready, and the centers faced off. The puck is dropped, and the game begins!

-------

It’s late in the third period. Both teams are exhausted from holding each other to a standstill. Neither had scored so far, and the crowd was getting restless with tension. Back and forth across the ice they raced. Naia had the puck on a small breakaway, Kylan assisting her as they passed the flat black object between each other, desperate to keep it away from the Landstriders. Suddenly, Kylan got pinned to the boards as he tried to dig the puck out from the edge of the rink. The enemy player’s skate kept blocking his stick and he couldn’t twist his body the right way to get it. What Kylan didn’t see was that across the rink, Tolyn had locked onto him. He charged, barreling straight at the unwary Spriton. But just as he was about to slam the music major into the boards, something tripped him from behind. He landed flat on his face, sliding hard into the boards from his momentum. A whistle was sounded, stopping play.

“Number 17, Paladins, two minutes, tripping.” It didn’t matter that Naia had stopped Tolyn from breaking Kylan’s clavicle, she got stuck with the penalty. Now they were one gelf down, on a powerplay in the Landstrider’s favor, at the very end of the game. They only needed to last two minutes, but with Tolyn lurking out on the ice, it might as well have been two trine. Coach Madso called timeout, gathering his brave Paladins to his benchside.

“Alright my soldiers, this is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna hold the line as best we can. I need Gurjin on right, Deet, you’re on center. Use any tricks you’ve got to be in front of that net. Tavra, Brea, you’re in at D. Tavra, you’ve got the fast slapshot. Everyone else, get the puck into the Landstrider zone, and then get it to Tavra. She and Deet will do the rest. Are we clear?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Paladins on three. One, two, three-”

“PALADINS!” The selected players went to their spots. Deet took the faceoff. When the puck dropped, Tolyn made to tackle the small Grottan to the ground, but when he aimed high, she went low, ducking beneath his arms and skating away with the puck. Gurjin plowed through his opponent, flanking Deet on the right. Tavra and Brea trailed behind, stopping just inside the Landstrider blue line. They skated circles in place, watching the puck bounce back and forth between Gurjin and Deet, trying to thwart their attackers and draw them away from the net so Tavra could get a clear shot. The clock began to wind down. The two-minute penalty passed and Naia quickly skated to the bench, where she was replaced by Amri, who drove hard into the occupied zone to help Gurjin and Deet. Deet passed to Gurjin, who was immediately dogged by Tolyn and his right wing, Lun. Pinned against the boards, all Gurjin could do was kick his leg, which he did, successfully knocking the puck along the boards and over to Amri, who slipped and slid around his attacker like a snake through wet grass. His ears perked as he heard Coach Madso cry out.

“Hey! Get it to Tavra! She’s open! Ten seconds left! Make the pass, Amri!” Amri whipped around, searching for his teammate. Tavra was in shotgun position, ready to take aim as soon as she’s given ammo. Amri flicked the puck over to her. She barely stopped it before pulling her stick back and firing it hard through the air and over the center of the ice. The goalie reached for it…It’s…It’s…CLANG! It’s deflected! But what’s this? SMACK!

The crowd waited with bated breath. Tavra stared forward, dropping to her knees.

Wee-Ooh! The scoring siren finally sounded. It’s good! Deet had indeed been waiting, and when the puck glanced off the post, she was right there with the rebound. Her teammates suddenly surrounded her, giving a group hug and patting her hard on the back, screaming they’d won. Tavra, still on her knees, looked upward, not trusting the scoreboard. It was 1-0 Home, and the clock had one tenth of a second left. The following faceoff was just a formality, as the clock ran out and the siren sounded once more, signaling the end of the game, and of the tournament. Trophies were handed out in a ceremony before everyone started to head home. But, just before the team left the ice, Gurjin shouted to the crowd:

“Victory party at Gyr Hall!” Cheers were heard as they departed to the locker room to shower and change before heading to the party. Tavra took her time cleaning up, in no rush for the festivities. All she wanted was to enjoy the energy rush she’d gotten from a game well-played. But, as team captain, she was obligated to go, at least, that’s what Naia and Gurjin said. Kylan gave her an out, but he was quickly overruled by Rian and Deet, so Tavra had no choice. She would socialize, whether she wanted to or not.

-------

“Tae, do we have to go to this thing? All that crowd noise gave me a headache.” It was Onica’s last-ditch effort to escape the party. Tae just rolled her eyes.

“You’re fine. Don’t be such a drama queen. Besides, Zili knows we’re here, we can’t just walk out on her. There she is, Zili! Over here, girl!” After meeting up with the goaltender, who was just as weird as Onica had heard, Zili escorted them over to Gyr Hall and the party held within. The voices of others were all that was heard within the crowded dorm hall. The music was still being set up, but Gurjin kept interfering to flirt with Kylan, who was in charge of tunes. Zili moved passed them, searching for the boy Tae wanted to meet with. Galen was finally spotted talking to Amri, joining them when Zili called him away.

“Alrighty. Galen, this is Tae. Tae, Galen. Ok, let’s see some love sparks fly. Go on, you two. Scoot!” The two walked off, Tae apologizing to Onica for leaving her there with her eyes. Onica sighed lightly, she knew this would happen. She opted to plop down on a vacant couch, people watching to pass the time. Twenty minutes went by, during which Onica grabbed herself a beer from a nearby cooler. She sipped the bitter liquid slowly, not desiring a buzz, but merely drinking it as something to do. Just as she’d talked herself into grabbing one more, there was shouting coming from the front street. Changing her mind on the drink, the redhead decided to see what was going on.

A tall Gelfling of Spriton descent stood in front of a group of students, some of which Onica recognized as being part of the Landstrider’s roster. They’d had their helmets off when receiving their second-place trophy.

I guess that means the one in front is Tolyn. Not the most attractive of team captains, is he…Onica thought, watching the scene unfold. More shouting was then heard coming from the dorm’s side entrance, before a group of Paladins emerged, a beautiful silver and lavender haired woman at their head. And that must be Tavra. What an attractive Silverling. Perhaps Tae was right. Maybe I should find someone else. Tavra stepped right up in Tolyn’s face, not backing down.

“This is a private engagement, my good Landstriders. Please leave, before things get ugly.” The cracking of knuckles reinforced her words, Naia’s fists providing the sound effect. Tolyn just gave a cocky grin.

“Aww…is the big, brave Paladin afraid one of us Landstriders are gonna hurt one of her friends again? By the way, Ky, how’s the arm?” Kylan grabbed his forearm, defensively pulling it to his chest.

“I-It’s fine.” Gurjin stepped in front of his boyfriend.

“Leave him be, Tolyn. You touch him, and I won’t stop at just your arm.” Kylan grabbed Gurjin before he did something foolish, attempting to calm him down. Tolyn just scoffed.

“Tch! You need to keep a better leash on your Drenchen mutt, Tavra. Kylan betrayed his own, so he’s fair game to us.”

“Oh, my Thra, he changed schools! There’s no betrayal in that. STU didn’t have a music program, so he switched. You can’t fault him for that.” Naia jumped in, standing next to her brother and further blocking Kylan from Tolyn’s wrath.

“I take back what I said,” Tolyn paused. “It looks like you’ve got two Drenchen dogs you need to teach discipline to. You really got your work cut out for you, don’t ya, Katavra.” Tavra flinched at the use of her full name. Only her mother called her that, and when it happened, it wasn’t going to be good. Tavra stared at Tolyn coldly.

“Just leave, Tolyn. You’ve had your fun. Enough is enough.” Tavra turned, attempting to end the incident, but Tolyn wasn’t of the mind to leave. Onica watched as he snuck up behind her back.

“Oh, no. H-Hey! Tavra, look out!” Onica’s warning came too little too late, as Tolyn turned Tavra by her shoulder, only to haul back and hit her right on the jaw with a sickening crack. The poor woman was knocked off her feet, saved from hitting the ground by Gurjin, as Naia charged forward with the rest of the team in retaliation. A fight broke out, the Paladins easily outwitting and out-brawling their opponents, only to chase after them as they tried to retreat. Gurjin had left Tavra with Onica, who had approached to see if she could help. The Drenchen charged into the melee, flinging Landstriders left and right. Brea came over to where her sister lay with a washcloth and ice, handing them to Onica before grabbing her phone to call campus police. The Sifa placed the ice gently to Tavra’s already swelling jaw. The dazed Silverling gazed up at her, a strange smile spread across her face.

“Hmm…I must be dead…” Onica looked at her oddly.

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve got a beautiful, red-haired angel taking care of me. If this isn’t paradise, I don’t know what is.” Onica chuckled at the rather forward-speaking Vapra.

“Well, I’m afraid this isn’t paradise, but if you’d like, I can care for you a little while longer.” Tavra smiled at her, before suddenly pulling her in for a dazed and clumsy kiss. Onica pulled back, blushing wildly.

“I’d really like that. My name is Tavra. And what is the name of the gorgeous angel that’s caring for me, if you don’t mind my asking.” Onica blushed even further, beguiled by the Vapra girl’s charms.

“I’m-uh…I-I’m Onica.” Tavra took her hand, holding it up to her lips for a kiss nearly missing it because of her dizziness.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear lady Onica. I hope we can get to know each other better, that is, once my jaw stops hurting so much. *Groan* Coach is going to be so mad at me if I can’t practice tomorrow.” Onica placed a gentle hand to the uninjured side of Tavra’s face.

“Lucky for you, my hobbies include learning traditional Sifa herbal Less side effects than regular medications. And I guarantee you’ll be up and skating by tomorrow. Now, let’s get you up and into bed.” Onica helped Tavra to her feet, the Vapra swinging an arm around the other girl’s shoulders.

“You’ve known me less than ten minutes, and already you’re trying to get me into bed. My, my, don’t you work fast.” Onica rolled her eyes, but still laughed quietly.

I think I’m beginning to like this girl. With that last, lingering thought, the two walked unsteadily into the dorm, and into a wonderful new relationship.

-DK

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol. 

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down. 

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway. 

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli. 

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done. 

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve. 

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this. 

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago. 

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows. 

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol! 

Lauren x

[artificialqueens]

Love Connections and Other Works of Art (Sashea) - Estuary

Summary: Sasha becomes infatuated with a mural. That’s not the only thing she’s infatuated with.

A/N: I had an idea and ran with it. A meet cute and all the fallout. I hope y'all enjoy it! AO3 Link

        “Ma’am? Ma’am, I am so sorry, but my boss wants to know why you’re loitering.”   

        Sasha flushed, becoming painfully aware of how long she had stared at the mural on the side of this building. The mural was captivatingly colorful and practically pulsed with geometric shapes that were just abstract enough to draw in the viewer with the desire to discover what they were. However, even after staring at the mural for upwards of ten minutes on her way to work, Sasha could not determine their meaning. At one moment, the shapes became silhouettes of dancers, at another an architectural landscape, and at yet another, angular clouds.

        Upon tearing her eyes from the wall and spinning around to face the chiding voice, Sasha’s pale complexion deepened to a strawberry red as she laid eyes on a truly stunning woman. Her deep, creamy skin glinted under the sunlight, long, tight curls piled on her head’s right side. Her mouth formed a smirk as Sasha stared, but even with that smug expression, the lady looked beautiful. A pink blazer paired with a cobalt blue skirt usually wouldn’t seem professional, but with her stature and poise, she looked expensive and unique.

        Sasha looked down instinctively, not wanting to ogle this poor woman any longer. However, staring at the concrete sidewalk only led Sasha’s eyes to a pair of frighteningly tall, pink stiletto pumps. Pumps which then connected to a pair of slender, toned, mile-long legs.

        “Um.. girl? Are you good?” The woman asked. The question seemed to reflect concern, but the smirk had transformed into nothing short of a full, shit-eating grin.   

        Good job, Sasha. You look great. Get yourself together.

        Sasha steeled herself enough to meet the woman’s eyes.

        Talk about art. You can do that. 

        “I’m so sorry, I just was looking at this mural. The colors and composition are so wonderfully vibrant. The style speaks to traditional cubism, but the interplay of light, shade, and color reminds me of a Charles Demuth.” Sasha explained, eagerly gesticulating. Even then, she cringed slightly when her hand movements caused the pins littering her own blazer to rattle loudly.   

        After a brief pause, the woman responded.

        “Well, I’m happy you like it so much. In fact, do you want to meet who designed it?” 

        “Absolutely! If you could give me a phone number, or an email, I’ll contact her. And I’ll get out of your hair, sorry about all that.”

        “Oh, I’m not gonna go through all that trouble. You can just talk to me now.”

        Fuck. Sasha was a goner.

        “Really?”    

        “Yes! Do I look like I’m playing?” 

        “Oh my god…” Sasha muttered, the expression slipping from her lips. And upon seeing Sasha so flustered, this beautiful, perfect woman threw her head back in a full laugh. 

        It was the most lovely laugh Sasha had ever heard. It sounded deep like thunder in the mountains, and it sounded warm like an embrace or a crackling fireplace. It sounded like all these things, and Sasha felt like she was experiencing all of them at once. Maybe this mystery woman of Sasha’s dreams was laughing at her, but she would be ridiculed at forever if it meant she got to hear that laugh. 

        Double fuck.

        “I’m Shea Couleé,” the woman said, sticking out her delicately manicured hand.

        “Nice to meet you, Miss Couleé,” Sasha replied, earnestly (probably too much so) grabbing Shea’s hand and shaking it, “I’m Sasha Velour.”

        “Oh, call me Shea. It’s Miss Couleé only if you nasty.”

        Sasha felt more blood rise to her cheeks, opening her mouth to only remain silent. Shea pulled Sasha in slightly close, so her cheek practically touched Sasha’s ear. They were much too close for strangers, but for an enamored woman, perfectly fine. 

        Whispering against Sasha’s ear, Shea muttered, “By all means, continue to call me Miss, then…”

        Shea (damn her!) let go of Sasha’s hand and stepped back into her original position.

        “You know what, Sasha? Why don’t we talk about this,” Shea flippantly gestured to the mural, “over drinks later today?”

        How can she treat such a masterpiece so casually?   

        “I’d love to do that, Shea.”

        “Catch you later, Miss Velour,” Shea tossed the phrase over her shoulder, strutting back into the shop, leaving Sasha standing bug-eyed on the sidewalk.

        As Sasha hurried away to work as initially intended, she could only focus on Shea’s breath on her ear and the weight of her hand on her wrist.

————-

        Sasha’s job mostly consisted of staring at a screen for hours on end, so going out to the bar provided a nice change of pace. She enjoyed her job authoring write-ups of local art galleries, but the near-silence of the office and the polite hushed tones of artistic display spaces felt suffocating after long stretches. In places built on self-expression, the most primitive form had to wait until after work to shine. 

        The additional mounting excitement and nervousness of Sasha’s meeting with Shea didn’t help with anything. Shea had slipped Sasha her business card before returning to her job, and all-day, Sasha couldn’t help but run her fingers over the cardstock to remind herself that the interaction that she had was real. 

        While Sasha might typically reject the stereotype of the helpless, love-stricken woman (particularly when viewed through the eyes of men), Sasha felt like nothing short of François Boucher’s The Love Letter. Normally, she found the grazing animals, the flowers, the women swathed in layers of pastel silks to be patronizing and suffocating in its delicacy and adorable pleasantries. Sasha now could not relate more. Maybe her pastoral paradise could be a desk and ergonomic chair. Perhaps her love letter could be the business card of a beautiful stranger.

        Even later, at the bar, Sasha’s fingers carefully traced the edge of the card. The repetitive motions felt soothing, although it was hard to calm the tidal wave of nervousness in her head. 

        What should I say? It’s been five minutes since 7:30. That’s normal. That’s fashionably late still. Was I supposed to change before I got here? Does she… like me?

        Sasha’s mind raced, but it kept getting stuck on that final question. Like a record player skipping over and over.

        It’s been ten minutes since when we agreed. She should be here. She won’t come. It’s a joke. I hope it won’t look strange if I just leave the bar alone when she doesn’t show up. She can’t like me. Could she like me?

        Sasha hooked and unhooked her heels on the rest of the barstool. She took a pen from her purse and began to draw on Shea’s business card.

        It’s been fifteen minutes. I’ve been duped. I should have known. It was too good to be true–

        “Sasha! Sorry I’m late.”

        Triple fuck.

        Sasha needed to get used to how gorgeous Shea looked because constantly getting this flustered was frankly getting embarrassing. However, Shea wasn’t making it easy.

        Shea had changed into a vibrant, pink, crushed velvet minidress that shone under the bar’s lights. As she approached Sasha at the bar, she smiled widely and met Sasha’s eyes. 

        Putting her hand on Sasha’s back, Shea took the seat next to her.

        “You wear pencil skirts to the club?” Shea asked, bemused eyes flickering from Sasha’s blouse to the aforementioned skirt.

        “I didn’t have time to change, I’m sorry,” Sasha said, torn between her desire to examine how she looked and her desire to continue staring.

        “No, it’s all good, girl! You look just stunning here as you did on the sidewalk today. So you wanted to talk about my mural?”

        This casual, kind, and flirtatious manner kept throwing Sasha off her rhythm. One second she had her–very professional–thoughts and questions organized, and a whim, her thoughts were cast into the sea.

        “Um, well, yes. I just thought your mural was so lovely and captivating. It captures such a specific artistic feeling, and I wanted… I wanted to know what your inspiration was?” Sasha forced the first part of the question out but gradually took a stride as her mind focused and settled itself once more on the topic at hand.

        “I’ve always loved, like, cubism and the reduction of big things to more abstract shapes. I wanted to do that, but for something that was already semi-abstract, leave it up to the viewer. I love pop art and bright colors, and I figured, this’ll attract shoppers,” Shea leaned in, smiling again, “and some hot women.”

        Sasha, to her delight, learned so much about Shea as the dinner continues. 

        Shea hadn’t had formal painting or visual arts training, instead studying fashion and design. Her job at the store exists mostly to pay the bills, but she volunteered to do the mural for free. Shea loves pairing pastels and saturated colors. Shea likes savory foods more than sweet foods. Shea was raised in Chicago and moved to New York for school. Shea was single. Shea was very single.

        As the conversation continued, Sasha found herself in turn revealing more and more about herself. Her love of Keith Haring’s Unfinished Painting and Jean Michel-Basquiat’s Untitled (Skull). Her dream of owning a gallery specializing in queer art. Her disdain for salty snacks. Her beloved dog Vanya. How she was single. Very single.

        The conversation also served to distract Sasha from the copious amounts of alcohol she and Shea were consuming. Alcohol that loosened Sasha further and further, to the point that her inhibitions began to evaporate. 

        “I’m glad that you liked my mural. If you hadn’t looked at it for so goddamned long, we wouldn’t have met,” Shea and Sasha both laughed, and as Shea rested her hand on Sasha’s shoulder, Sasha just looked at her.

        Sasha had already heard the sound of Shea’s laugh, but being able to watch her laugh added an entirely new dimension to the experience. When Shea laughed, she’d throw her head back, tossing her long black curls. Her eyes would scrunch, and the light caught on her cheeks. 

        God. Every part of her shone and sparkled. Just existing near her made Sasha feel strangely buoyant and pleasant. It felt like she got to witness someone massively special and joyous and who, in turn, made Sasha feel special herself.

        “What are you thinking about?”

        “How beautiful you are when you laugh. And smile. And do most anything.”

        “I like the way you talk, Sasha”

        “That I do it about you?”

        “No, bitch!” Shea says, giggling, “Your voice and the phrases you use. I love it. I feel like I’m listening to a hot, hipster audiobook. You don’t think that’s creepy, right?” 

        “I don’t think it’s creepy. I don’t think I can think ill of you at all right now”

        Shea laughs again.

        “I like you a lot Sasha,” Shea says. Suddenly, she stands up and grabs Sasha’s hand. “Dance with me?” Shea asks, nodding her head to the masses of people on the main dance floor.

        Sasha eagerly followed Shea, and as the lights and alcohol blurred the edges of her vision and the writhing bodies bumped into her own, Sasha couldn’t look away from the vision of Shea’s beautiful hand clutching her own. That beautiful, warm grasp. Even in a sea of stimulation, the only thing that mattered was Shea’s hand.

        After making it to an open spot, Shea dropped Sasha’s hand and they both began to dance.

        When Sasha danced, she danced mostly with her hands and upper body, in a style some might call “stilted” and the more charitable might call “interpretive”. Sasha liked to claim that it came from a slightly limited range of motion caused by a pencil skirt. While that might have been somewhat true, Sasha preferred not to dwell on the fact that she had turned up going to parties in exchange for spoken word poetry nights.

        Shea, meanwhile, danced like water. She kicked, jumped, and shook, but each movement blended into each other. Her braids had been tucked into a ponytail, but still swished back and forth as she moved, emphasizing her movements. 

        What changed?

        The music didn’t slow down.

        Maybe it was Shea saying that she “loved Sasha’s ‘dad dancing’”.

        Maybe it was the lights shifting to an electric blue color that shone on Shea’s hair and skin, making her look like an ethereal vision.

        Maybe it was Shea pausing from her dance to touch the assortment of pins on Sasha’s blazer, holding each one up to the light and pausing to read it.

        Maybe nothing changed.

        But Sasha felt so wonderful, so magical that she threw her arms around Shea’s neck. The music still pounded and shook her bones, but all Sasha knew was that she wanted to see Shea’s face. Wanted to feel it.

        Lifting her hand from Shea’s neck, Sasha traced Shea’s cheekbones. The curve of her ear. Her smile lines. 

        Shea wrapped her arms around Sasha’s waist, rubbing small circles with her thumb, delicate circles that Sasha could feel through her skirt. As Sasha gently ran her thumb along Shea’s cheek, she saw Shea’s eyes flutter as she let out a large sigh.

        Sasha felt like Henri Matisse’s Icarus. So obviously plummeting at lightspeed into this love, but for a brief moment in the unknown, the uncertain, silhouetted against the sky.

        Wingless and among yellow stars. The only aspect of her being, a red, glowing heart. A brief moment of glory.

        Shea’s sparkling eyes. 

        A brief moment.

        Shea’s smile. 

        A brief moment.

        They had danced around it long enough.

        Sasha leaned upward, catching Shea’s lips with her own. Her hands moved downward, clutching Shea’s back, pressing Shea towards her. Shea sighed, and Sasha could feel the corners of her lips move upwards. 

        “Why?” Sasha whispered breathily onto Shea’s lips. “Why me? Why not anyone else?”

        “Because no one else blushes so profusely at my words in their ears. No one else wants to talk about the philosophical implications of French impressionism on gender roles. No one else is a beautiful, unique, unibrowed and pin-covered woman who looks at my mural like it’s the greatest piece they’ve ever seen and then looks at me like I’m, like I’m some kinda magical being.

         I wanna witness you, Sasha. I wanna witness you all the time.”

        As they held each other close, Sasha put her racing mind to rest. Resting her head on Shea’s shoulder, she felt the music and sweat of the club gently fade away, replaced by the sound of two beating hearts. 

[jadekitty777]

Fall For You

*Runs in screaming and slams this down with forty minutes left to go* 

I will not lie that this one is not my best. Time crunch got to me and I kind of rushed this one. Um, but... I finished? 8D

Thank you everyone who has taken the time to read, reblog,or comment on my stories this week! Your support has been greatly appreciated and encouraging. Another thank you goes out to the many of you who inspired me to write some of these stories; they wouldn’t exist if not for you. Finally, a thank you to all the other participants who made such great fics and art this week;  you all are awesome!! 

Day 7: AU

Dedicated to: @tama-negis (I formally apologize though; you deserve something so much better than this)

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 2.7k

Ao3 Link: Fall For You

Summary: To Qrow, there was no greater feeling in the world than the sensation of flying through the air, nothing but the bar and Clover to rely on.

That's why the fall was so devastating. [Circus AU]

~

“Net check!”

Qrow rolled his eyes as Clover fell backwards off the trapeze platform, saluting as he went. He looked over the edge just to make sure his partner hadn’t died, before shouting down at him, “You know, after two years, that’s decidedly less impressive.”

“Don’t lie. You love it just as much as you love me.” He was too far to actually see if he was winking, but Qrow knew he definitely was.

Rather than respond, he just continued on with the safety check. He gripped at the bar, pulling on it. No give, no worrisome noises. Rigging seemed secure. He took another step back, before doing a running leap off, holding on tight as he traveled over the net until he came to a stop at the center of their stage.

He twisted his body upwards, landing on the top of the bar and swung back and forth lazily, listening carefully to everything above him. During a performance, over the roaring crowd and blasting music, it was impossible to hear any of the small, subtle sounds of the cabling above. So, any out of place screech or worrisome clonk that could imply something was about to give would go completely unheard. But in the near silence of the empty Big Top, he could hear even the tiniest creak of the frame as it bore his weight.

Nothing out of place.

He slipped his feet off the bar, freefalling for a fraction of a second before his arms caught it. Everything held. Just as it had the last two times they’d done the check throughout the day. He thought it was a little excessive, but James was a stickler for routine, and after taking partial ownership of the circus, had immediately enacted the three-check rule.

There were a lot of those kinds of changes the performers of the former “Marvelous Circus of Oz” had to put up with when they officially became partners with James’ “Fabled Ace Ops”. Higher demands on performance training, complete restructuring of acts and teammates, stricter guidelines on fashion. Qrow wasn’t even allowed to wear nail polish anymore.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” He remembered shouting at his new boss. “What do you think’ll happen Jimmy? Is my polish gonna eat through the bar?”

Ozpin had to pull him aside after that one, practically pleading for him to cooperate. It was hard to continue being pissed off when he had to face his old friend’s weary, desperate eyes. He knew this was a shitty situation, for all of them. But it was either this or all of them be out of a job. So, Qrow let it go and tried his best to play nice.

Though, he supposed as he turned around on the bar to face the platform Clover was once again standing on, not everything that had resulted in the merger was terrible. Sure, he’d been downright hostile when James had first reassigned Raven with Summer’s act and appointed his own star trapeze artist to him – but it didn’t take long for Qrow to warm up to the other man. Clover was like a magnet of good qualities: friendly, confidant, encouraging, honest.

He was also ridiculously attractive, so that was a plus.

Qrow rocked his body, gaining momentum until he could swing himself back over to the platform, securing the bar down. “Alright, we’re good.”

“No, you missed something.” Clover spoke up.

“What?” He looked around, doing a mental catalogue of his checklist. “No, I didn’t. Wha-ah!”

Strong arms wound around his waist, pulling him in and a big, wet sloppy kiss was planted right on his cheek. “You forgot the kiss for good luck.”

Qrow snorted. He didn’t believe in superstition, especially with names like theirs. He had to of gotten every good luck-bad luck comment probably known to the universe. Didn’t mean he wasn’t above teasing about it. “You’re disgusting and a heathen.”

Clover gasped loudly, before whirling them around, letting him go. “Oh Qrow, my love! How could you wound me this way?” He backed up the two steps it took to get back to the edge, hands crossing over the center of his chest. “The pain, it’s just too much to bear! Goodbye cruel world.”

And with another wink, he went back over.

Qrow tried, he really did, but even biting down on his lip didn’t stop the guffaws that escaped as he looked down again. “You’re an idiot!”

“Joke’s on you,” He hollered back triumphantly, “I’m yours!”

Even with the distance between them, he was sure Clover knew he was smiling.

~

The night was going spectacularly well. The audience was receptive and easily emotive. They’d gotten loud cheers for Summer and Raven’s silk dance and wows for Elm and Vine’s high-wire act. It had been a while since they’d had a crowd this good and the rest of the crew was feeling it too, all of them buzzing to get on stage and feed into the energy.

“Alright, Marrow and the kids are finishing up. Qrow and Clover you’re up. Robyn and Tai, get ready to follow.” Oz called as he snaked his way between the teams, popping his top hat back on his head as he went.

“Ah, what a shame that your act will be completely overshadowed by ours.” Robyn taunted. Though she lacked malice, her pride wasn’t unwarranted.

When people thought of circuses, they thought of all the typical acts: animal taming, clowns, trapeze work. No one really thought of fire arrows. It was the only act of its kind in the world, and one that had happened by complete mistake.

Robyn, from James’ crew, was an extremely precise archer – able to split her own arrows and even bounce them off other obstacles and still hit a target’s bull’s-eye. Tai, from their circus, was their fire performer, his talents ranging from being able to spin and juggle batons that were ablaze on either end to swallowing lit torches and breathing plumes of fire upwards like a dragon. Early on into the merger, the two just happened to be practicing by one another, showboating and trying to one up each other on their skills. One thing led to another, and Tai ended up challenging Robyn to shoot through his flames and still hit her target.

It was when she pulled it off, that the idea to combine their acts was born.

Qrow wouldn’t deny it made for a hell of a sight – but that didn’t mean he’d let her get away with her ribbing without giving back a bit of his own, “Please. Ours will be so good, they won’t be able to get it off their minds long enough to pay attention to yours.”

“Hah, you wish!”

Clover, smug as can be, threw an arm over his shoulders as he added, “Now Robyn, you know wishes are for stars, of which Qrow and I happen to be.”

“And they say I blow a lot of smoke.” Tai intervened with a wave of his hand, “Get on outta here you two before you end up holding up the whole show.”

Anything more that they might have said was interrupted by the sound of laughter floating in with Marrow, Ruby and Yang as they returned backstage. The three were propped up on each other’s shoulders like a human Leaning Tower of Pisa. Qrow and Clover were quick to assist the younger man bearing their combined weight, helping the younger girls down on their feet.

He didn’t have a lot of time, but Qrow still took a second to ruffle Ruby’s hair. “Good job kiddo.”

The eight-year old gave him a tooth-gaped smile, saying, “Break a leg Uncle Qrow!”

“In thirteen places.” He promised, before following his trapeze partner out into the darkness of the stage.

“And now, it’s the moment you all knew was coming. Introducing our Flying Aces, Qrow Branwen and Clover Ebi!” Ozpin’s voice boomed from where he stood in the center of the stage.

Qrow linked his arm with Clover’s just as the spotlight moved to capture them, both of them raising up their free hands up high as if catching the applause from the audience. So close, it was obvious how similar their clothing was – himself in a black leotard that blended into red and Clover in a complementary white to green one. Though turned from the crowd, on their backs was a design choice Qrow himself had insisted upon: Wings to follow the color gradient.

They were the Flying Aces after all.

Oz continued with his announcement, but having heard it so many times before, he mostly tuned it out as he and Clover split from one another, each of them climbing up the ladders to the platforms opposite each other. As the final words from their ringleader faded, the lights below went out, bringing all the attention skyward.

Qrow unhooked the bar that he’d secured only hours ago. The music started to roll, but the moment he went swinging off the platform, it was as if everything else faded. There was nothing except him, the bar and the sensation of wind and weightlessness as he turned his body around, hooking his knees around the edges and hanging down free. As his movement slowed, he eased his grip, gravity bringing him down into a short drop before his ankles caught onto the edge instead. After another few moments, he unhooked his left, all of his weight now on just the right leg as he let his free limbs spread out wide like a taxidermist’s greatest prize.

Mostly he was a distraction, performing small tricks while Clover got into place, throwing himself off his own platform to gain momentum so he could prepare to catch him. He knew his partner was ready when he signaled him with a salute. Qrow pulled himself up so his legs could dangle once again, pushing himself into motion once more. At the apex of their swings, he let go, Clover gripping his wrists easily. They flew together briefly, before he returned him to the bar, Qrow doing an easy spin midair to catch it.

It was his second leap that earned them applause, this time somersaulting twice in midair before being captured. Even over all the white noise in his ears, he could make out Clover’s exhilarated chuckles and a breathless laugh left him as well. This was something they shared: The excitement of the flight, the adrenalin born from hanging freely nearly thirty feet in the air, the thrill brought on with each completed trick as their routine built together.

The joy of doing it all with someone he loved.

Without question, it was that last one that made him do what he did next.

Qrow’s hands clasped onto the bar as he was thrown back to it, swinging his legs up and fitting them between his grip so he could hang upside down again, this time prepared to grab the other man so they could move into the second part of their act.  Clover took his turn to fly over, doing a flip of his own.

But Qrow didn’t move into position for the catch.

Hours later, when asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone precisely what it was that warned him – maybe he heard something snap. Maybe he noticed a change in his balance. Or maybe it was just a feeling in his gut. But somehow, he knew.

So, for the first time since they’d perfected the move, Qrow missed.

Clover went flying one way.

As the rigging broke above him, Qrow went the other way, further and out of control.

The freefall sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to him – he’d dropped thousands of times before. On those rare cases it was unintentional, he was usually even talented enough to make it look like part of the act.

The white-hot agony that laced through him as something impacted his side with the force of a bullet was new though, unexpected in its ferocity.

It was all his mind could grasp at until he was bouncing off the edge of the net and the ground rushed up to meet him.

~

Incessant beeping roused him.

His first thought was he immediately wanted to go back to bed. Whatever the hell he had been doing must have been brutal, because his body ached all over, particularly centralized in his shoulder and hip and his stomach was especially throbbing.

Qrow made a noise in the back of his throat, trying to raise his arm to shut off the alarm, only to find it oddly weighted. His head flopped to the left and he grumbled, “C’ver, ‘larm.”

Suddenly the weight lifted, still there but entirely focused on his wrist. Oh, it was a hand.

“Qrow? Hey babe, you awake?” Clover’s voice coming from above him rather than beside him was what finally got him to open his eyes.

Immediately he realized he wasn’t home in the trailer when instead of just more bed and a window, there was a machine next to him and a wall a few feet away. The machine was the thing making the noise. His gaze rolled around, taking in the IV stand next and gathered a pretty good guess on where he was.

A shift made him look towards the figure hovering over him. His partner looked like a wreck, expression pale and drawn. Dark circles were laden under sleepless eyes.

“Hey.” Soft as his voice, Clover’s hand brushed through his hair, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Qrow replied, swallowing around his tongue which felt oddly swollen. “Heavy.”

“Yeah that’s probably the anesthesia wearing off.”

“Anesthesia?” That didn’t sound promising.

His partner took a moment to pull the chair behind him closer, sitting down right at his bedside. The hand still holding his squeezed lightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

Shifting through his own head, vague memories of spotlights and soaring through the air came back to him – as well as a stomach-dropping sensation that wasn’t meant to be there. “I fell.”

Clover’s voice shook a little, “Yeah, you did.”

There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the most important one came out first, “How bad am I?”

“You’re gonna be okay. You, have a few fractures but, nothing major broke.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Your stomach’s a mess though. When the cabling gave out, part of it snapped back and hit you. It ripped right into your intestines. You were in surgery for six hours.”

Qrow took that in sluggishly, focusing mostly on the first part. It meant he could still perform. The rest of it could wait for more thought another day.

So, he moved on. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm?”

“Where were you when I fell?”

“I, uh,” Clover’s laughed, but it sounded a bit wrong. “Down on the net. I was uh, flying over to you and you just didn’t catch me. I think you knew something was wrong, ‘cause Summer said you never even reached for me.”

The significance of that hit him instantly. There were a few universal rules any trapeze worker knew – the topmost being just how vital it was for the flyer to swing after a catch. The human skeleton was a surprisingly delicate thing, and the arc of motion that followed alleviated all of the pressure the body underwent from the flight and drop. But, if the flow of motion was hindered or stopped all together, say by a snapping cable line, all that pressure suddenly didn’t have anywhere go and instead the force would compact onto the body.

At best, the sudden whiplash would have injured Clover’s spine, maybe bruised an organ or two.

At worst, it would have broken his neck.

His partner lifted his hand, lips pressing against the back of his skin as he whispered reverently, “You saved my life.”

Qrow let out a slow breath, mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Nah. I just took falling for you real literally.”

This time, when Clover laughed, it was much more genuine, even as tears finally flowed from his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

His reply was a victory: “Joke’s on you. I’m yours.”

With no distance between them, neither of them could miss the other’s smile.

[sarahlevys]

do you know MBTI types? if so, what do you think alexis and twylas are? what’s yours?

hello! yes :) below are some quick thoughts and c&p, with bonus enneagram feelings!

Alexis: ESFJ & 7

The Consul: myers briggs details from the link above:

“Consuls are more concerned with fashion and their appearance, their social status and the standings of other people. Practical matters and gossip are their bread and butter, but Consuls do their best to use their powers for good...

“...Being pretty conflict-averse, Consuls spend a lot of their energy establishing social order, and prefer plans and organized events to open-ended activities or spontaneous get-togethers. People with this personality type put a lot of effort into the activities they’ve arranged, and it’s easy for Consuls’ feelings to be hurt if their ideas are rejected, or if people just aren’t interested...

“Coming to terms with their sensitivity is Consuls’ biggest challenge – people are going to disagree and they’re going to criticize, and while it hurts, it’s just a part of life. The best thing for Consuls to do is to do what they do best: be a role model, take care of what they have the power to take care of, and enjoy that so many people do appreciate the efforts they make.”

The Enthusiast: enneagram details from the link above:

“Sevens are exhilarated by the rush of ideas and by the pleasure of being spontaneous, preferring broad overviews and the excitement of the initial stages of the creative process to probing a single topic in depth...

“...They do not feel that they know what to do or how to make choices that will be beneficial to themselves and others. Sevens cope with this anxiety in two ways. First, they try to keep their minds busy all of the time. As long as Sevens can keep their minds occupied, especially with projects and positive ideas for the future, they can, to some extent, keep anxiety and negative feelings out of conscious awareness.

“Likewise, since their thinking is stimulated by activity, Sevens are compelled to stay on the go, moving from one experience to the next, searching for more stimulation. This is not to say that Sevens are "spinning their wheels." They generally enjoy being practical and getting things done.”

Twyla: INFP & 2

The Mediator: myers briggs details from the link above:

“On the outside, Mediators (INFPs) may seem quiet or even shy. But they often have vibrant, passionate inner lives. Because they make up such a small portion of the population, people with this personality type may sometimes feel misunderstood or out of step with the world. Fortunately, their caring nature can help them create and sustain deep relationships with their loved ones...

“...They can have a tendency to daydream and fantasize rather than take action. If they don’t act on their dreams and ideas, Mediators are likely to end up feeling frustrated or unfulfilled...

“...Although Mediators might want to help everyone, they may need to focus their attention and energy on one worthy cause at a time. Otherwise, they can become so overwhelmed by all the problems they can’t fix that they’re tempted to give up on even trying. This is a sad sight for Mediators’ friends, who often depend on their hopeful outlook.

“Fortunately, like flowers in the spring, Mediators’ creativity and idealism can bloom even after the darkest of seasons. Although they know the world will never be perfect, Mediators still care about making it better however they can. This quiet belief in doing the right thing may explain why these personalities so often inspire compassion, kindness, and beauty wherever they go.“

The Helper: enneagram details from the link above

“Twos are empathetic, sincere, and warm-hearted. They are friendly, generous, and self-sacrificing, but can also be sentimental, flattering, and people-pleasing. They are well-meaning and driven to be close to others, but can slip into doing things for others in order to be needed. They typically have problems with possessiveness and with acknowledging their own needs...

“...Healthy Twos warm others in the glow of their hearts. They enliven others with their appreciation and attention, helping people to see positive qualities in themselves that they had not previously recognized. In short, healthy Twos are the embodiment of “the good parent” that everyone wishes they had: someone who sees them as they are, understands them with immense compassion, helps and encourages with infinite patience, and is always willing to lend a hand—while knowing precisely how and when to let go. Healthy Twos open our hearts because theirs are already so open and they show us the way to be more deeply and richly human...

“...Average to unhealthy Twos seek validation of their worth by obeying their superego’s demands to sacrifice themselves for others. They believe they must always put others first and be loving and unselfish if they want to get love. The problem is that “putting others first” makes Twos secretly angry and resentful, feelings they work hard to repress or deny. Nevertheless, they eventually erupt in various ways, disrupting Twos’ relationships and revealing the inauthenticity of many of the average to unhealthy Two’s claims about themselves and the depth of their “love.””

Me: ESFJ & 3 :)

I write Twyla the most these days, but I identify the most with Alexis. I didn’t intend to give us the same myers briggs type, but it seemed to fit her the best out of the extroverted options. & then my ennegram is "The Achiever"!

[captain-apples]

Seven Minutes

Pairing: Tom Holland x Harrison Osterfield x reader

Warnings: angst, I guess (sorry, the queen of angst aka @starksparker was my inspiration)

Summary: Childhood best friends to lovers... or maybe not? You’ll see

Word Count: 1800

A/N: I’ve never written a fanfic in my entire life before. And here I am at 3a.m. frantically writing this story because I couldn't get it out of my head and it would not let me sleep. (Also, English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.) I hope you enjoy it

Your heart was aching. You held Tom as tightly as you could, burying your face in his chest, fighting tears from falling down your face. You didn't want to cry, you didn't want to make a scene at the party, you just wanted it all back. The three of you together, laughing and playing games on your couch..

For as long as you can remember Tom and Harrison were part of your life. The three of you grew up together on the same street and were inseparable. Your home was theirs and theirs was yours. You'd spend so much time together your parents gave up on telling you to go to your respective houses and just accepted their fate. Needless to say as soon as Tom was cast as Spider-man he bought an apartment for the three of you to share. It was heaven. You'd cook together, work out together, pull pranks on each other, nap together, etc. That apartment was the happiest place on earth. It didn't really matter what the three of you were doing as long as you were together. Some days will be quiet - you’ll sit by the window reading a book, Tom will sit across from you studying his script while Harrison will be napping on the couch. Sometimes you'd invite your friends and have a party but most nights were spent playing games or watching movies on the couch until you three end up asleep in each other’s arms.

Your relationship never turned into anything more than a friendship. It was like you had a silent agreement to never add sex into the mix because what you had was already perfect and none of you wanted to fu*k it up.  So, things were never complicated and were always innocent. Through out the years you all dated different people, fell in love, had your hearts broken then healed and always found comfort and safety in each other and in your friendship.

However, deep down you knew you were in love with one of your 2 best friends. Tom. It has always been Tom. Ever since you two were 10 years old - you were riding your bikes when you lost your balance and fell. Your knee was bleeding and you started crying but there Tom was, kneeling in front of you telling you you'd be okay and wrapping his Spider-man tee-shirt around your knee to stop the bleeding. Something happened in your heart then. You were a child and had no idea what it was but for a while now you've known that that was the moment you fell in love with him. But your friendship was too important for you to ever admit how you feel.      

It was after Tom’s last disaster relationship when things changed.

In a typical Tom fashion he took a deep breath and all at once he confessed to you that he had loved you for as long as he can remember, that this was the reason why his relationships never worked and how scared he was that you might not feel the same or that it may destroy your friendship and how he didn't want to risk it but he couldn't hide it anymore... His confession and consequent rambling made your head spin, so you did the first thing that came to mind – you kissed him.

And that was it; the two of you became a couple. Tom was happy. You were happy. Haz was happy for the two of you. At first, it didn't seem like much has changed and for the next year or so things were mostly the same at home. Sure, now you’d spend most nights in Tom’s room but every once in a while Haz will come in middle of the night, when he certain you’re not in the middle of.. something and flop himself next to you two where you'd find him in the morning with his arm over both you and Tom. You two didn't mind. You had enough alone time for each other and the rest was gladly spent with Haz. He was still a part of you; you were still the three musketeers.

Or so you thought.

The first sign of things changing between you three was when Haz quit working for Tom and started taking more and more jobs away from the two of you.

The second sign was when Haz started avoiding your touch. No more naps together, no more comforting hugs, no more holding hands during scary movies. He was avoiding you and you were confused.

The third sign was when you two were alone at home. He was about to leave for the gym when you crossed paths near the door. Being your clumsy self you tripped on the edge of the carpet. Haz reacted automatically and caught you. You thanked him but he remained silent and he didn't let you go. If anything, you felt his arms tighten around you. His breathing was shallow and fast. You were about to ask him if he's okay when you noticed him looking at your lips.

This can't be it.. This can't be happening can it? Did he want to kiss you? He slowly and tentatively moved his face a bit closer to yours when you heard Tom unlocking  the door and saying "Hello!" 

In the millisecond it took you to turn towards Tom and greet him back, Haz was nowhere near you and all you saw was him rushing out the door past Tom. 

You wanted to believe things would go back to normal. You wanted to brush it all off. It can't have been what you thought…

But now you knew it was exactly that.

The three of you were at Sam and Harry's birthday party. Harrison spent the night as far away from you as possible, which made Sam ask you if you two had a fight. You said “no” and changed the subject immediately. The night was mostly fun and you spent it laughing with your friends and dancing with Tom. It was around 3 am when the party was dying down that someone had the bright idea of playing 7 minutes in heaven. It was fun at first, until it was Haz's turn to spin the bottle, and it landed on you. Without saying a word Haz got up and headed for the small closet in the hallway which had the word “heaven” written on the door in erasable marker. You followed him and heard Sam say they'll start the countdown as soon as they lock the door from the outside.

The door closed.

7 minutes

The small closet was dark apart from the dim light leaking in from under the door. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust. When they did you saw Haz looking down and fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something, you don’t even know what, when he quickly looked up at you and put his index finger on your lips.

"Shh.. don't.. Y/N… I'm leaving. I got a job in the US."

You were speechless. The world stopped and everything was quiet. You felt his index finger brush over your lips and move to the left as he cupped your cheek, his thumb now caressing your lower lip. You couldn't even move. What was even happening?

6 minutes

He took a step closer to you "Y/N..I love you. I have loved for so long. I was scared to say anything and..and it’s too late and now you’re his and.." he exhaled and pressed his forehead to yours for a moment, then pulled away just enough to brush your nose gently with his. 

He loved you? And he was leaving?? You didn't have time to process all of this.

"Haz, I can't.." you whispered as you tried to take a step back, away from him but there was nowhere for you to go.  

"I know Y/N, just.. I just need those 7 minutes. Please, just 7 minutes of what he's going to have forever.." he pleaded

You felt him slowly move closer. He didn't rush. He pressed his lips slowly and gently on yours. He wanted to savor every second of this, of you. You put your arms on his chest. He was trembling

5 minutes

Haz pulled away for a second to take a much needed breath of air and kissed you again this time deeper as he moved his left arm to the back of your head to pull you even closer. You had no idea for how long you two were kissing before he pulled away from the kiss, still holding you in his arms.

4 minutes

"Haz?" you asked as you felt him tilt his head up, his eyes were brimming with tears. You were breaking his heart and you had no idea.. This whole time he was in love with you and you.. you only loved him as a friend, your best friend. You always knew when one of them was going through something. How can you not see this? Was it because you didn't want to? Was it because acknowledging it would mean losing him?

3 minutes

You felt guilty, greedy. You ignored all the signs of Haz being in pain just because you wanted to keep him and Tom both in your life.

"I'm so sorry Haz"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry Y/N. I tried! I promise, I tried to only be your friend but I can't." he held you close with his forehead pressed to yours

2 minutes

"I can't just shut it all off Y/N. I can't stop loving you so I have to go away" he whispered before he kissed you again. Deeply. Hungrily. For the last time.

1 minute

He slowly pulled away from you, gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, took a few steps back, and looked away from you.

Silence

30 seconds

"Does Tom know?" you ask and you see Harrison nod.

"When are you leaving?" you asked quietly

"First thing in the morning"

00 seconds

Sam opens the door and your eyes hurt from the strong light suddenly flooding the tiny room. You avert your eyes from the door and feel the air move as Haz walks out first and tells everyone he's feeling tired and has to go.

This is it. This is the end of your friendship. You knew that much. 

You loved Tom. He has always been the one for you, you knew that too. But Haz was your best friend and you loved him too and now you lost him. And nothing will ever be the same again.

You find Tom and hug him tightly. You want to cry, but not here. Not in front of everyone. Tom doesn't ask if anything is wrong. He knows. He knows what Haz has told you so he hugs you even tighter. You still have him.

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapters 218 & 219.  Everything is wrong in regards to panning for gold.

Chapter 218 starts off with the man that Sugimoto saved from the bear.  Which really as soon as he mentioned the scrape on his forehead was a recent injury (and no obvious signs of being chewed on by a freakkin’ bear) I’m going to go with the fact that there is no bear.  Or that this man IS the bear. Why?  Based on what he thinks about Sugimoto.  That Sugimoto is so nice!

You know who thinks Sugimoto is nice?  Criminals!  Henmei and the con artist Suzukawa.  Anyone who thinks Sugimoto is nice is almost always a dangerous person.  His brother apparently catches up to him and we learn his name is Heita (who really has to be a dangerous person).

Shiraishi then asks if he’s a gold prospector due to his fancy boots and Sugimoto then smiles awkwardly as he admits his poor experience searching for gold himself.  The older brother Taka is immediately suspicious as he looks at Sugimoto and Shiraishi, while Heita is just more interested in their plans.

I’m sorry Heita but your facial expression this panel really is making me nervous and Sugimoto is terrible at reading creepy and dangerous people in situations like these where he either saves or protects them.

Heita declares that there is still plenty of gold dust to be found while an younger brother? and his older brother are suspicious, since they do have 2 rifles, bayonets, the fact that Vasily also carries a pistol and Asirpa has arrows and knives.  The putative father points out that robbers wouldn’t save them.

The next page reveals a very attractive woman who has come out to inquire about their unique looking group.  She looks like she could be a seductive woman and she remarks on Vasily as a foreigner and Shiraishi winks at her to define them as comrades while Sugimoto annoyed decides to define them as a rabble in english.

I would take this to mean that Shiraishi’s using a more positive spin on their group while Sugimoto is distancing himself from Vasily.  The longer they travel with Vasily, I can’t help but think Sugimoto will see him more and more like Ogata.  Silent and observing them. Taka then angrily tells Noriko to head back to their tent and she seems annoyed by his order.

There are a few pages of gold prospecting 101 from Heita to Sugimoto and Shiraishi.  They try to do things while Asirpa just stays behind on shore giving minimal support by heating water so they can try to work in the freezing cold water.  Heita and his family are using a more effective way to look for gold and it seems that perhaps due to their friendship with Asirpa, Sugimoto and Shiraishi may not ever have a shot at finding gold since as an Ainu, she believes this is one of the mistakes people made polluting the river. I think it is a bit of a karmic reminder that they know enough information now, to realize they shouldn’t be doing this and if they do it - it won’t work out for them b/c they are friends with Asirpa and Shiraishi has even had the Kiro’s tour of Karafuto to explain the rights of the native peoples of the east/north.

And Shiraishi even knows this as he declares it just isn’t going to work for them.

Again, Shiraishi is the voice of reason.  Just follow through on things Shiraishi, you are getting there!

Just as Sugimoto is about to give up as well, Heita tells them about gold that is mixed with platinum, and his family seems uncomfortable with him telling them so many points that they must have been keeping secret from others.

The next few pages are more description of the rising interest in platinum metals from miners and the value is increasing.  It can be used in fountain pens which were become more popular in Japan and now they didn’t need to import it from elsewhere to make the pens.  Therefore, Heita says there will be a second “gold” rush in Hokkaido. 

Even though he’s factually correct, I would not trust to work with this man!  He looks like a smaller version of Usami with those eyes. 

Shiraishi and Sugimoto are awestruck and in shock as they look on with sparkle in their eyes as they then firmly hold each others hands and Asirpa looks on from behind them.  They don’t even look at each other when they do this, they just instinctively hold hands.

After this Heita notices the bear again.  The rest of his family can’t see it and no one else can see it either.  Just looking at his facial expression and the creepy font for his statement about the bear getting closer (a likely hallucination) he’s creepy and suspicious as all hell.  Furthermore, he says that the bear is the wen kamuy.  And Asirpa upon hearing that notices the carved bear case on his belt.

Thanks Noda, I now know who the wen kamuy is - it is Heita. 

Sugimoto and Asirpa go to check out where it was spotted.  Yet they don’t find any signs of a bear.  Asirpa clearly states that there is no sign of a bear yet Sugimoto does not believe it.  He fully believes Heita, just like he believed Henmei and Suzukawa (as an Ainu elder).

Then Sugimoto tries to kind of apologize to her by disagreeing with her read on the NO bear status by referring to the white bear a sign that the Mountain gods are angry.  Really Sugimoto?  This is a half-assed attempt to connect with Asirpa’s own belief system.  Yet she just pauses before she states that she wonders . . . The chapter ends with the older father being chewed on by the “bear”.

219 then starts off with Vasily sketching a wren.  For a character who I think is a snow leopard, he does seem to have a cat like tendency to patiently stare at a bird. Asirpa seems to becoming more comfortable with him.  I feel like this is Ogata 2.0, she has a reason to talk to him about a bird.  This also shows that Asirpa is still a non-judgemental person and she really does seem to try to approach others in a neutral fashion despite the fact that Vasily shot Shiraishi in the leg.  This is really Ogata 2.0 since she approached Ogata even though he had fought with Sugimoto with a clear intent to cause harm.

To add to the fact to my now official “I am the Wen Kamuy” Heita hypothesis, she remarks that the wren, Cakcak Kamuy should call indicating there the the bear is.  The lack of its call means there is no bear near by.  The last panel shows a super creepy looking Heita and he’s gotta be the Wen Kamuy.  He explains more prospecting tools and terms to Sugimoto and Shiraishi and then he appears to be almost magical as he tells them where they should look for platinum.  Sugimoto and Shiraishi are obsessed with him and ready to do whatever he says.  He gets them when he agrees to split the money between them equally and they would rather do this than kill the Wen Kamuy.  Asirpa then strongly interjects that gold panning polluted the rivers and everyone lost their focus on hunting.

She tries really hard to convince them otherwise, and they completely ignore her (and her uncle’s words that Sugimoto was already told once before) and they beg Heita to help them, Master Heita even as they bow. Asirpa then inquires about his Ainu tobacco case with the bear on it.  Heita says he worked with some Ainu and they got along well so they gave it to him as a gift.  She replies that it explains why he knew the term Wen Kamuy (and this must also imply that most Japanese in Hokkaido are not familiar with the term).

Sugimoto then tells Heita that they know about the Wen Kamuy and that it has attacked people along the river and then Shiraishi tries to re-assure him that it will be okay b/c Asirpa is their bear hunting specialist to help him relax and help them find the gold.

Asirpa tries to get information from him about the bear’s behaviour and he with the creepiest expression ever - white eyes, Usami shaped says that it has been going on for years and years - implying that this cannot be a single bear that has become a Wen Kamuy.

I assume that he also mumbled this a little since Asirpa turns around in shock as she says “What?” while Shiraishi is encouraging Sugimoto to do his best with him together.  As Asirpa looks back at Heita, his head is awkwardly turned to the side, his eyes a shut as he smiles in a scary fashion and his mouth is completely black.  A few pages before when Heita was speaking you could see his teeth and his mouth was a light grey.  But now, it is totally black which CANNOT be a good sign.  He’s no longer human with that facial expression.

The action then shifts to Vasily drawing by himself.  Noriko asks him to come with her to draw her in their hut.  To give context to her as a character, here are a few tweets form Sei Kobiyama describing the context of her type of character.

The story arc is a combination of Showa pulp fiction and horror stories explaining the creepy factor.  Noriko is also a draw like a typical dangerous and seductive woman looking to do something bad, I’m guessing likely towards a male target.

That immediately comes out as she strips down to pose in the nude for Vasily.  Based on his furious sketching he seems to have found it very inspiring.  However, she catches something out of the corner of her eye and she freaks out!

Some sort of object that she was trying to get rid of is back and at that moment Taka comes to interrupt them and does some major shaming of her behavior.  She seems tired of waiting for Taka and he tries to explain to her to wait a little while longer, it is clear that she’s lonely as they try to find the gold.  The next page then reveals Heita up in a tree watching them kiss as he licks his own lips and then climbs down the tree face first and leaps off like a flying squirrel.  Noda really wants to make it clear that Heita is not okay.  I get it. Thanks. Sugimoto and Shiraishi are trying to pan for gold when they realize that Heita is missing and they panic that something bad may happen to him.  They tell Asirpa to keep an eye on him as the bear expert.  She replies to them if there really even is a bear around. 

But either way, she does take their suggestion to go look around.  Meanwhile, Taka tells Vasily that Noriko is playing a trick on him by taking his binoculars and placing them over on a mushroom growing off of a tree.

Vasily being the sniper that he is, immediately goes to retrieve his precious binoculars.  It is clear that Taka is leading him into a trap, an amappo specifically set up by some local Ainu.

Thankfully, Asirpa manages to save him and points out the signs for others to observe the presence of a trap.

After she speaks Taka appears in the background watching them as it is clear that he sent Vasily there on purpose.  Vasily nods, so hopefully this is showing that he can understand a tiny amount of Japanese.  She then has a full monologue to Vasily about how she’s been trying to find evidence for the bear that Heita has seen. She went as far as looking beyond the described range, found all of the local bears that are all in hibernation so she knows that he’s outright lying.  Since Shiraishi and Sugimoto won’t listen to her - she tells Vasily who can’t even talk back towards her currently.

The big question is now, why is he lying?  Besides the obvious fact that he is a killer based on the Sugimoto is nice rule.

Sugimoto and Shiraishi notice a bear off in the distance and go to find Asirpa.  They caught a glimpse of its butt.  Bear bum spotted. The final page then shows a bear claw around the Father and youngest son, buried in the snow and a final scene of Heita screaming in total shock/fury/I don’t even know what else.

I would guess the bear claw is actually Heita’s foot via “Heita vision”.  The editor’s tag line of “I came, I saw, I devoured” instead of conquered makes me think Heita is the bear and a cannibal.  So where does all of this action in 218 and 219 leave us? First off this is a creepy horror story arc.  People driven by greed to pan for gold in the rivers, out for themselves, not trusting others and wanting to keep others from robbing/killing/stealing from them. Heita is clearly a killer - a Wen Kamuy human.  Shiraishi almost gets the idea that panning for gold is a bad idea, but he gives into Heita’s sales pitch.  Sugimoto and Shiraishi keep ignoring Asirpa and her observations.  I’m obviously biased, but Asirpa is getting a bit of the Ogata treatment/repeat of how Sugimoto ignored her during the Silent Kotan arc.  He should know by now that her observational skills are vastly superior to his.  I’m hoping Vasily will be a stand in for Ogata and he will help out in their battle against Heita and even Taka and his binoculars may be important to that. Sugimoto and Shiraishi are going to freak out when the horror reveal happens. It would be interesting if Asirpa is forced to fight against Heita.  What if she has to kill him out of necessity?  That would be a cool plot point where Asirpa takes down the human Wen Kamuy.  This would be a philosophically interesting point.

The other major theme is how Japanese people are exploiting the Ainu land and this is a bad idea.  I’m sure Heita did not get that Ainu tobacco case through friendly means.  Or, the Ainu gave it to him to warn other Ainu that this man is the Wen Kamuy.  That would be a totally awesome plot point as well! Just based on the fact that Sugimoto is still not quite getting Asirpa’s background shows that this will likely reveal something deeper between them in regards to Wen Kamuy, different cultures and how to really respect each other. Overall, these types of arcs in Golden Kamuy aren’t my favorite, but they are frequently tied to colonialism and the abuse of the natives as this has overlap with; the bear monster arc with the American, boss and princess; the Silent Kotan arc; how Japanese fisherman were over fishing and Henmei was hiding among them and the central theme of wanting the gold. 

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

She

Summary: Buffy reminisces about her relationship with Andi, the events of their past, and the fate of their future. Inspired buy the song She by Dodie Clark

Word Count: 1836

also this is for @bandi-mack since it was her idea ilyy <3

Am I allowed to look at her like that?

Could it be wrong, when she’s just so nice to look at?

Buffy stared at her phone screen. She had Andi’s Instagram pulled up, and just like all normal people do, she was scrolling through and analyzing all the pictures. So it was a typical Saturday night. She’d begun to sketch one in her notebook. Granted, it wasn’t great, but she worked hard on it.

She smells like lemongrass and sleep,

She tastes like apple juice and peach,

She gravitated towards the warmer colors, as colored pencils in reds, pinks, peaches, and yellows rolled on her bed. Tapping her phone again, she zoomed in on one section of her face, concentrating on trying to get Andi’s eyes just right. They were mesmerizing, even in photos; her chestnut eyes, soft and welcoming, and could read right through you. It was a quality Buffy had always admired, even if it bugged her when she tried to repressed any of her own feelings.

You would find her, in a polaroid picture,

And she, means everything to me, oh,

She glanced over at her nightstand, where there was a small picture frame that she and Andi had made years ago, when Andi was just getting into crafting. It was, admittedly, a little messy, but Buffy loved it nonetheless. Inside was a photo from when they were both little, probably in elementary school, where they both tried to do their makeup.

“We’re fashion queens!” Andi exclaimed, scampering into her mom’s room to grab her polaroid camera.

Buffy followed after the trail of giggles, grinning from ear to ear, with a smudged line of red lipstick staining her face.

“Strike a pose!” Andi shrieked, reaching out the camera as far as she could and snapping the photo. Both girls felt like they were nearly blinded by the flash, covering their eyes with their hands as the photo printed out.

“You can keep it,” Andi said, handing it to Buffy, “my mama always said that sharing is caring,”

It was still one of Buffy’s fondest memories to date.

I’d never tell,

No, I’d never say a word,

Grabbing a peachy pencil, she started to shade in Andi’s face, treading lightly at first, before deepening the color by her cheeks. Andi always blushed this particular shade of pink when she was embarrassed or when someone made her laugh. Buffy wanted to make sure she got it right, so she blended a few more colors into the mix of peaches and pinks.

And oh, it aches,

But it feels oddly good to hurt,

She remembered the day that Andi went redder than she’d ever seen her before. Naturally, her group of friends were at the Spoon, when Jonah walked in. And it was like a switch went off, because Andi just didn’t seem like herself anymore. It was like she’d forgotten how to speak and how to act. Buffy remained quiet, choosing to play with the napkin in front of her rather than intervene.

“Do you wanna come play mini golf?” he asked, a smile brighter than the sun gracing his face.

“Oh, yeah, totally! Buffy do you wanna come?” Andi had asked.

“Oh, I-I meant, just you and me. If that’s okay,” Jonah mumbled, looking to her with hopeful eyes. Andi’s cheeks went red hot turning to Buffy for approval, supposedly.

Buffy gave a small nod, squeezing her best friend’s hand quickly before she scooted out of the booth, and let them both walk out. Pinching her lips together, she gave Cyrus a small smile before they continued their conversation.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep,

She tastes like apple juice and peach,

Buffy tapped on her phone again, zooming out a little on the photo in order to have a better idea of how the colors blended. Andi’s hair was swooped down onto her forehead, a few locks of it behind her ears. Grabbing the black colored pencil, she thought back to the day when Andi had decided to cut her hair by herself: short. It was a disaster, evidently, but Buffy had come over and helped her calm down about it.

“It looks good, Andi! It’s a new you,” she exclaimed, pushing a few of her bangs aside.

“I look like a boy,” Andi sniffed, turning to look at herself in the mirror, “this was a mistake,”

Buffy fished through one of Andi’s many drawers, before finally finding a blue headband with a bow that Andi had made a few years back. “Here,” she offered, slipping it onto the girl’s head, “better?”

Andi shifted the headband a little, turning to look at herself at different angles. “A little,” she admitted, turning to face Buffy, “thanks. You’re the best,”

She leaned forward to hug the other girl, and Buffy couldn’t help but feel a magnetic pull towards Andi.

Oh you would find her, in a polaroid picture,

And she, means everything to me,

Oh, oh, oh,

She paused, setting her pencil down and grabbing her eraser to try and soften the edges. She wanted nothing more right now than to call Andi, to hear her voice on the other line. To know that things were okay, that things were going to be okay. But she knew she couldn’t.

And I’ll be okay, admiring from afar,

‘Cause even when she’s next to me,

We could not be more far apart,

Buffy opened her phone again, scrolling up to the more recent photos of Andi; one with Libby, a few with Jonah, a bunch with her and Cyrus, and one with her and Buffy. The last one. They were at the library, and Buffy could recall the day like it was just yesterday.

“Shh, are you insane?” Andi giggled, running through the shelves of romance novels, “they’re gonna kill us!”

“Not if they don’t find us,” Buffy chuckled, grabbing Andi’s hand and dragging her along, and ending up by all the CDs and records. They hid under a display of them, both trying to contain their laughter.

“Do you think Cyrus and Jonah will find us here?” Andi whispered, pressing her body against Buffy’s.

Buffy swallowed, breathing in so softly, as though not wanting to scare off Andi like a deer. “I don’t think so,” she mumbled, pulling out her phone, “selfie?”

“Always,” Andi replied, leaning her head in a little closer and smiling as Buffy took the photo, “send that to me,”

She did, and Andi quickly posted it on Instagram, with the caption ‘best friends hide better’.

Needless to say, Cyrus and Jonah found them rather quickly after that.

And she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall,

But to her, I taste of nothing at all,

Buffy quickly turned off her phone, shutting her eyes tightly. No. She had been down this road far too many times, lingered on that moment far too long for her liking. But no matter how much she tried to push it from her memories, it seemed to creep up to the front. Grabbing a few more pencils to finish Andi’s shirt, her memories came flooding back.

“I think the lights add a nice touch, don’t you?” Andi asked, leaning back in the beanbag in AndiShack.

Buffy nodded, not even paying attention to the lights. Her eyes didn’t leave the girl in front of her, almost mesmerized by her beauty. Buffy knew that she’d fallen, hard, and there was no way that she was going to be able to get back up.

“Hey Andi?” Buffy whispered, earning the girl’s attention.

“Yeah?”

Buffy hesitated, reaching her hand up and tugging on a strand of her hair. Boldly, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on Andi’s lips. It was quick and childish, but the fire that tore through her body was not ignorable. Immediately, she slapped a hand over her mouth, fingers trembling. Why did she do that? What was the matter with her?

“I-I’m sorry,” she squeaked out, before she started sprinting out of the small shack, not stopping until she could see her house in the distance. Her lungs were aching, her breathing sharp and laborious. She couldn’t see much as she walked into her house, the tears blurring her vision. Her feet stung, her arms felt numb, yet her lips were still on fire.

She wanted to text Andi that this was all some mistake. That she wasn’t thinking about what she was doing. That she regretted it.

But the truth was, those were all lies. She’d wanted to kiss Andi for a long time, but she never did. She didn’t regret the kiss, but she did regret how it had happened.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep,

She tastes like apple juice and peach,

You would find her, in a polaroid picture,

And she, means everything to me,

Buffy swiped at the the tears that started to fall, cursing herself under her breath. She’d finished the sketch and quickly pushed it aside, not wanting to ruin it. It was a disgrace of a drawing, if you asked her; she really didn’t do Andi’s beauty justice.

Yes, she means everything to me,

Buffy tentatively reached for her phone, clicking on Andi’s story. It was a snapshot of her in her room, listening to music. Sad music, Buffy concluded after a little bit of squinting. She couldn’t help but think back to what Andi had said about sad music.

“Because who wants to listen to happy music when they’re sad?” she pouted, crossing her arms.

“Doesn’t listening to sad music when you’re sad, just make you more sad?” Buffy pointed out.

Andi shook her head. “No, that’s what happy music does. It reminds you of how not happy you are. Sad music gets you. It understands that things are hard, and that it’s okay to feel like that,” she explained.

And suddenly Buffy had a new outlook on sad music.

Swiping up, she hesitated on replying, her fingers lingering on the keyboard. She’d texted Andi for over two weeks, not daily, but still; there was never a reply.

bdriscoll: are you okay?

Buffy turned her attention back to her sketchbook. Taking a pen, she jotted down the date in the corner, and shut the journal with a gentle click. Her stomach grumbled, signaling her to get out of her room and to stop wallowing. Her phone buzzed, and at that moment, it felt like the world stopped spinning, and it was moving too fast all at once. She felt dizzy with anticipation, unlocking her phone with a shaky swipe.

andiman: ...not really.

bdriscoll: do you wanna talk about it?

andiman: no that’s okay

bdriscoll: if it’s about what happened, i’m sorry

andiman: it’s okay, don’t worry about it

bdriscoll: you’re my best friend andi, i want you to be happy

andiman: thanks. i think i just need some time

bdriscoll: i get that. i’m here whenever you’re ready

andiman: thanks buffy

bdriscoll: no problem

read at 3:26 PM

She means everything to me

[techouspeaks]

Classic Reviews: Big Bad Beetle Borgs and Metalix!

“Three typical, average kids were founded by Saban! Just by luck, got picked up and now they’re a PR spin off!”

I know, that was bad and I should feel bad but I don’t. Least not that much...

So, I was looking to review something and I decided to do some series that I’ve done only brief look upons, such as the series from my top “90s Kids Shows That No One Talks About” and go on from there.

I’ve talked about Big Bad Beetle Borgs before but not in good details. I’ll try to keep from repeating too much and just get my basic thoughts on it. The real question is whether this series is better or worse than Power Rangers?

Big Bad Beetle Borgs is a series by Seban Entertainment who gave you series such as Power Rangers, X-Men (1994-1997) and the infamous but kinda famous dub of Samurai Pizza Cats. Like Power Rangers, Seban obtained clips from the original B-Fighter sentai series from Japan and combine it with it’s own story, characters and gags. The show ran for two seasons which is the same as B-Fighter and first aired September 7th 1996 and the second season aired in March 2nd 1998. 

The show unlike Power Rangers, kinda had a sitcom element and wasn’t as serious as Power Rangers would get. It had a more comedic tone, making this especially for younger kids. It was basically the Power Rangers for kids that couldn’t handle the “heavy” drama that Power Rangers, least the later series, had. Does that make it good or bad? Well let’s look at the story.

The story focuses on three kids as I said, name Drew, his sister Jo and their friend Roland. The three kids are basically your average kids as the theme states. They like to read comic books and kinda had the 90s theme going on of liking things that were “EXTREME” and used a bit dated 90s catchphrases. Though I will say that they weren’t too bad on that. They did use the catchphrases a lot less. In fact I think Flabber, the ghost they freed did more the catchphrases than the kids, now that I think about it. I’ll get to him in a bit.

One day the bullies of the town (And I guess their school. I’m trying to remember if you ever did see the school.), dare them to go into the Hillhurst Mansion, an old, fallen apart, abandon mansion on the outskirts of town that’s said to be haunted. When the kids do, both the bullies and our three heroes discover that the house is indeed haunted, by monsters that are loosely inspired by the classic horror monsters of the golden age. The monsters chase the kids around the house trying to eat them, until the three kids stumble upon an old pipe organ. When the kids play the organ, it frees a ghost named Flabber, who you could argue is trying to be like Genie from Aladdin. He’s got blue skin and tries different impressions and is able to grant wishes. At least one wish out of gratitude. 

The kids wish to become the Beetleborgs, the heroes from their favorite comic book series and as he does, he accidentally releases the villains of the comic, the Magnavores. Now it’s up to the three kids to be Beetleborgs and save their town from the Magnavores and try to get them back into the comic, which the kids make no hesitation to agreeing upon.

Later series, Metalix had the Beetleborgs go up against new villains and try to gain the “Astral Borgs”, which were special and more powerful allies, along with the Monster’s new recruit of “Little Ghoul”.

Is it as bad or good as Power Rangers? To be honest, I think it’s a little better than Power Rangers, at least in my perspective and mainly in the campiness of it. The one thing about Power Rangers is that it’s doing all the corniness with teens to near adults and sometimes that works fine in some series like my favorite series Wild Force, Ninja Storm, Dino Thunder and Maho Tsukai! (Just kidding!), Mystic Force, but other times, especially the first series, it’s pretty painful to sit through, least in my opinion.

BBB handles this campiness well. It knows what it wants to be and gives the kids what they want. They want to feel like they can be the hero, they want to see Flabber doing fun little magic tricks, they want to see the fight scenes and they want to see some good old fashion slapstick. Being it’s kids and not teens or adults as the main heroes, the campiness fits more at home in this series. 

The series also has a bit of heart to it. You can tell the actors playing their roles had a good time. Well, at least for the most part. Some of the kids kinda feel bored at times. At least sometimes. Other times they seem to enjoy their roles fine but it just seems to be the adults that had the most fun. The kids act fine in this but other times when the drama was big, their acting could have used a bit more energy, but they were kids at the time and for Seban no less. I mean Seban is not exactly a dub of quality as many would know! You can tell they were at least trying with what they were given.

The characters are well likable too. The kids for the most part are likable and charming and seem to have enough character to them enough to identify them. Drew is the typical kid that wants to be the leader and the “cool type” but he’s also down to earth. I’m glad they didn’t make him too cocky or too “extreme 90s” like so many of the “cool kids” were at that time. 

Jo is your tomboy girl but she can be like her brother, she can be rather down to earth when she needs to be. I also like how they explained why she looked and sound different after the original actress left. Wolfie casts a spell from a magic book, changing her appearance and then Flabber counters a spell so that she would look the same as before to everyone else, but to those who witness the first spell being cast would see her as her new appearance. That’s actually kinda clever. Usually when an actress or actor leaves, they do something, like another option they could have went with was to have Jo go to boarding school or something and have her be replaced by another tomboy girl. Shoot, maybe a foreign exchange thing but I guess because Jo was well liked by the kids, they just didn’t want to replace the character so they just made a clever idea to keep the character and explain why she looked and sound different. 

Roland is the only one that I kinda don’t get into. He’s fine, he’s just not very interesting and I don’t remember him getting a whole lot of character development or focus a lot. Make whatever racist comment about it. To me, I think they just didn’t know what to do with him but needed a 3rd character and an excuse for the kids to get the comics easily and for the kids to be really close to the adult characters of the Comic Book store, without it being seen as creepy.

Though one character I barely remember was Josh. A kinda resident “popular kid” who temporarily becomes the White Blaster Borg to fight and defeat the Shadow Borg, in a Yin Yang sorta way. I just remember he and Drew were rivals for the affection of the popular pretty girl in their town and that he would lose his powers forever since his sole purpose was to defeat Shadowborg, which he didn’t care too much because being a superhero was too much for him.

Flabber, while you can tell he’s trying to be the Genie from Aladdin, especially the fact he has blue skin and has magic, as well as do impressions of other things and famous people and references, he doesn’t feel like a total rip off. He does generally have his own sense of identity and it’s hard not to like him, least for me. He can be a little annoying with his antics, but he’s still quite charming and helpful and usually I don’t like Elvis impersonators, but he doesn’t do that too much despite being dressed like one. Put it short, I like Flabber and while I can see what he’s trying to do, he doesn’t feel like a total rip off the Genie. 

Flabber also helps defend the kids against the Hillhurst Monsters who tend to try to eat the kids. By the end of the first series though, they ultimately quit doing so and do occasionally help the kids out on their adventures.

The Hillhurst Monsters too have their own personalities and quirks. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that that’s what drove the kids into the series. The actors who did the monsters seemed to have a lot of fun and a lot of the series episodes focused on them despite being mostly comedic relieves. Each episode ending credits had the monsters do some crazy high jinks while the credits rolled. They each have their own back stories and we even see some personal endeavors they have to face from time to time.

First you have Count Fangula who is a vampire that isn’t quite competent in his vampire skills. He tries to but more often then not fails.He almost gets sent away by the master of vampires that looks exactly like Vlad the Impaler, for having a victim count that’s too low. He’s the only one that can tell what Wolfie is saying. He also seems to be the most sensitive sorta, next to Frankie, but also sensible. He knows when to back down most of the time and seems to have good surviving instincts out of all them and is easily scared the most.

Wolfie or Wolfgang is a werewolf that eventually joins the residents of Hillhurst in the first season. He’s probably the most bravest as he has tangled with the bad guys more than once. He barks and makes Scooby Doo like noises and as said, Fangula understands what he’s saying and translates. He acts sorta like their dog and sleeps in a dog house next to Frankie.

Frankenbeans or Frankie as he’s called, is as you expect a Frankenstein type monster. He’s talks more like a toddler and literally has no brain, which is the cause a lot of jokes involving him. He’s rather the most innocent of the monsters because of this. He can be a bit more threatening when angered, sometimes even the other monsters can be a bit intimidated by him since he’s got incredible strength.

Mums is a 5,000 year old mummy who was once a prince that got entombed for kissing Cleopatra in public. He’s a bit sarcastic and can be very funny and comes up with the most insults and jokes. He also seems to be the most encouraging and helpful of the bunch, giving ideas for plans and schemes, sometimes even thinking of good solutions for the Beetleborgs from time to time.

Eventually, the Hillhurst residents get another resident called “Little Ghoul” who happens to be the Grim Reaper’s niece in training. She’s sarcastic, violent and a bit of brat! So much so that despite her pint size body, she even scares the other monsters especially in her true form, which she hides under a hood. She has high respect for the Astralborgs, the powerful allies I mentioned earlier and will help them out without hesitation. 

The first bad guys were actually kind of interesting. They’re the typical bad guys that just want to cause trouble for the sake of it but they have such personality that makes them stand out. The three main goons are Typhus, Noxic and Jara and they actually prefer chilling out and scaring the heck out of people most of the time. Typhus loves to eat, Noxic is the smart one that was voiced by Impmon/Veemon from Digimon and Jara was the sassy female villain that also gained a few chuckles since she was the more competent of the two.   Even Vextor, the main boss has some pretty funny moments and interesting design. (My favorite line was when he said to his three henchman  "If there's a brain cell among you, it's dying of loneliness!" )

The bad guys for Metalix though are pretty lame...There’s nothing really that stands out about them. I mean, I thought it was pretty funny that the main boss, (yeah I don’t care about his name), actually grants a kid’s wish to have a monkey instead of a dog after the boy helps him. That’s pretty funny but yeah, the villains in Metalix are pretty weak.

I actually forgot to mention what Metalix is about. It’s pretty much the same thing as the first series but we’re introduce to the new villains and a “twisted” comic book artist named Les Fortunes (Get it?) that is the brother to the comic book artist for the BBB comic books, Arthur “Art” Fortunes. Art decides to help the BBB by making new armor and weapons that Flabber can bring to life. He actually does show up in the first season but returns more often in the second season.

This sounds cool but it kinda ends up pretty weak. For one thing, again not so creative villains. Again, at least with the first ones, they have personality. Here they don’t. The concept of the good artist vs the bad artist is an interesting idea but it’s not done very well here. First, Les is pretty creepy and unsettling also aside from being twisted, what did he actually do to warrant being in jail? I can think of one thing and lets just say he shouldn’t be around kids... Plus, the brother, Art, while likable enough, their rivalry is too childish and out there for even this series. I mean, yeah the adults here act way out there but this is way too out there.

Does this mean the second series is bad? Well, it’s not horrible or unwatchable, it’s just kinda weak in some areas but it still does focus on random adventures, introducing new characters including a fourth Beetleborg and focusing on the Monsters of HillHurst, so it doesn’t change too much from the first plot. It’s just kind of weak with what should be an interesting concept and the new villains just lack a personality that stands out. Shoot, the new villains are called the “Crustaceans” and only one is actually a fish monster that’s not even based on a crustacean of any sort! Did one of the staff members had something against sea food and decided that should be the villains? Even so none of the other Crustacean soldiers are based on aquatic animals. You got Horribelle that’s based I think on a mantis, a fish monster and the main boss is a triceratops.

So yeah new ideas that just simply needed to be thought out better,  but the heart and most of the other adventures remain roughly same as the first. 

The animation and effects are cheesy as well as you would expect from a Seban Power Ranger’s spin off, though the parts with the Comic Book transformation and transits are done very well and creatively.

I can’t be too hard on this show. It’s a show that isn’t good but it’s charming and fun and that’s what this series was meant to be. A cheesy, creative and fun adventures with a colorful cast of characters. Sure there isn’t anything much for adults in it but if you like corny, cheesy goodness, I would give this a go, especially if you are Power Rangers fan and can enjoy the corniness that PR can bring. There’s nothing at all bad in it for kids or any horrible lessons, so I definitely do recommend it for young children to watch it. I give the first series 6 1/2 stars out of 10 even if I’m being a bit generous and Metalix 5 1/2 stars. Not good, not bad. Just a right in the middle corny fun to bug out on.

BBB: 6 1/2 Stars!

Metalix: 5 1/2!

Level: Good!

[thequlturecritic]

QULTURE’S TOP 20 SERIES OF 2018

20.  BUSY TONIGHT

You guys! Good energy is, like, totally in right now. And it’s never going away. You may know her from Freaks and Geeks, but I know her from Cougar Town as CC’s fun-loving, super-supportive sidekick. When you watch Busy Phillips on her cheeky, positive-vibes only E! talk show, a sense of “we’re all in this together” and “being kind to one another” is definitely a recipe for demolishing disaster. Remember how major Chelsea’s career became because of what so many probably considered a silly little talk show… well. I’m not a fortune teller or anything, but I could totally see Ms. Phillips taking over the universe. I want to be one of her minions. Cheers to another leading lady of late night! 

19. THE VOICE

I’ve always been anti-reality competition shows when it comes to singing, only because I’m a total snob when it comes to what I subject my ears to. My musical tastes are versed and varied, but I still am pretty picky about who I let in to my drums, mostly because I need it to stimulate an eargasm and coincide with my life’s soundtrack. When American Idol launched, I definitely was enamored with Kelly Clarkson’s powerful vocals, but I still kept the close mind that an artist is discovered naturally, not “created” by producers with the backdrop and illusion that AMERICA gets to vote and pick the winner. Ah, who knows, maybe they do… I would just never take the time out to vote. HOWEVER. When I found out Kelly was going to be a judge on The Voice, which is a whole separate animal than Idol, I was shitting my pants with glee, because she really is such a goddamn force of fucking nature. Her spirit is overwhelmingly angelic and I simply love everything about watching her. Last season’s competition was magical, at least for me, perhaps because it was the first time I really got to experience the message and place the show has in the universe. It really is inspiring and lovely to see how much these artists themselves care for the teams they build and the individuals they want to see grow – regardless of whether or not it leads to fame. Alicia Keys and Kelly Clarkson’s dynamic was really something special that inspired me in so many ways.

18. COMEDIANS IN CARS GETTING COFFEE

I love nothing more than a loose format, sans makeup, realistic conversation between famous people. Talk shows rock and all, but there’s something to be said for two people we all know and (often) admire, getting together and doing something that, ya know, regular people do! Like… go out to breakfast. I was never a fan of the Seinfeld sitcom, mostly because when it was popular it was kinda over my head and nothing that interested me. I’d probably be more inclined to watch and enjoy it now because of how much Veep has made me adore Julia-Louis Dreyfus and now much Jerry Seinfeld’s Netflix series about him… getting coffee… with comedians… has made me adore his admiration for vintage cars, honesty in humanity and one of the most important things we all seem to forget sometimes – which is to LAUGH! We live in such politically charged times, and while I get how important it is to talk about the very things we were always brainwashed to believe were impolite to talk about, we also need to be able to make jokes and not be so sensitive about everything. Ya heard?

17. AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL

Oh how I love me some Tyra, but it seems the future is all about Ashley Graham. Yet again – another fucking beautiful superhuman. I am really starting to hate that people even think of someone as “plus size”, but hey, it’s the world we live in. All I see when I look at her is someone with a whole lot of personality, gorgeous features and a personality that you’d be crazy to not gravitate toward. She is living proof that good vibes, energy and kindness (in the fashion industry?! How dare you!) go a long way. Tyra and Co. are doing such a bang-up job sending young women empowering messages about feeling safe in their own skin by infusing all shapes, sizes, colors and archetypes. This cycle was full of hilarious moments and was totally unpredictable. Despite her Trump-loving, Republican ways and complaining about being transformed into a “fire-crotch”, I was rooting for Liberty, Rio and Jeana to compete in the Top 3. That certainly evolved as the season went on, mainly because Jeana’s insecurities were getting the best of her (she had alopecia and they convinced her to be the alien-like, bald beauty – which she looked 10X better as vs. wearing wigs) and Rio had the most off-putting temper tantrum that had me and my bestie Carlee yelling at the the TV, “Who da fuck you think you talkin’ to?!” as if we were speaking for Tyra. Be humble, girls! Beauty ain’t just skin deep. At the end of the day, I loved seeing Kyla take the crown, because her activism, big heart and growth really was something special at the end of the day. Keep up the good work! I want 1000 more cycles.

16. SWEETBITTER

Starz’s adaptation of the best-selling novel by Stephanie Danler is short, but bittersweet. Ella Purnell is a breakout star, headlining the cast of unknowns who are all as equally as fantastic. I think that’s one of my favorite things about it (Caitlin Fitzgerald, in particular, who definitely has that thing) – how naturally gifted the entire cast is. Purnell stars as Tess, an All-American girl from bumfuck who makes her way to New York City to chase the dream, even if she has no idea what it is yet. Any of you who have worked in the service industry as a waiter or waitress will appreciate the authenticity of how intimidating, grueling and chaotic the industry can be… but how much fun it can be once your shift is over.

15. MANIAC

What is Netflix’s limited, vivid, disturbing, funny, emotional rollercoaster about? My brain is exploding from trying to analyze. Typically, in each episode, I get so lost in the perfection that is Emma Stone, I’m completely enthralled by how inspiring it is to watch one of our most exceptional young talents only seem to get better and better. It’s also always a pleasant surprise to see someone like Jonah Hill continue to prove himself as truly versatile. Remember when these two were just getting into stoner cinema and taking over the shelves at Blockbuster, during their Superbad days? Justin Theroux, plus. Sally Field, super-plus. Julia Garner (also of Ozark), a star on the rise! It might make you feel a little crazy while watching, but hey, we all go a little mad sometimes.

14. SHARP OBJECTS

Gillian Flynn’s book to big screen success with Gone Girl made a lot of us anxious to see what would be translated next. Following the trend of mini-series, binge-worthy greatness and big stars coming to the “small” screen, HBO announced Amy Adams would star in Sharp Objects, a dark, sultry murder mystery set in the swampy south that co-stars the amazing Patricia Clarkson – one of my absolute favorite actors. I’ll never forget when I “discovered” her, in Lisa Cholodenko’s High Art, one of my all-time faves. There’s a similar hypnotism with the limited series which also features a deliciously naked Chris Messina, and, of course, the direction of the man I’d say is pretty much cinematic perfection these days – Jean Marc Valee. If you have not yet seen Dallas Buyers Club, and another all-time favorite of mine, Wild, you are missing out. I’m assuming you have watched all of Big Little Lies once or twice, and can’t wait for season two next year. Neither can I. These are the people doing AWESOME awesome things in Hollywood.

13. AMERICAN HORROR STORY: APOCALYPSE

So, I’m always back and forth with AHS. I always love how visually stunning it is, but some seasons either lack substance or are literally just too fucking freaky for me to engage. I can not even set my eyes on Freak Show, thought Cults was too gory and scattered (although fresh off of the Trump presidency was a possible prediction of the future if we don’t all get our shit together) and definitely didn’t even give that Roanoke one a chance. The first two seasons rocked, and Gaga slayed in Hotel, but being that I love witches (Hocus Pocus, Witches of Eastwick) I have to say Coven is my favorite season. I love every Farmiga in life, Precious’ Gaborey Sidibe always makes me laugh and Emma Roberts is a rock star. How gorgeous?! She’s also such a little asshole in the best way. She’s someone I can picture punching me in the face, and I’d invite her to. Apocalypse is the best infusion of boy/girl magic and the ultimate comradery casting wise – as what could make for a perfect finale for the series ties all of Ryan Murphy’s brilliance together. That’s just my opinion – because I think a great series needs to know when to wrap it up, but these days everything is all about milking everything to the last drop, so… idk.

12. THE CONNERS

Roseanne returning was definitely the best of the best in reboot land, until her big mouth got her fired from ABC and launched The Conners, which features the entire cast minus a dead mother. I still respect her as an artist and will always love when TV wasn’t so linked to the Twitterverse, but these days I guess everyone really does have to be super careful about the shit they say – especially when we should know better that racism isn’t cool. It’s such an odd thing, because Roseanne was always so controversial, brave with their material, and was one of the first shows to have an out lesbian comedian/actress and character (the great Sandra Bernhard)… so… idk. That Sarah Gilbert though… she’s somethin’ special.

11. THE GOOD PLACE

Kristen Bell!!!!!!! That’s all. Ok, well, that’s not all… because Ted Danson is equally as amazing. Who wouldn’t love someone married to a dame like Mary Steenburgen?! I’ve been a fan of his since Three Men (and a Little Lady!). The diversity, quick wit, modern spin on the classic sitcom and concept behind this hit NBC series reminds us of why the network is always killing it when it comes to delivering quality, quantity and maintaining its colorful edge. I’m surprised I didn’t get into this show when it premiered, as season 4 approaches and the Globes, and surely the Emmy’s now are getting into recognizing genius when they see it. This show is filled with all the good feels! Maybe Heaven really is a place on Earth.

10. WILL & GRACE

When the reboot of W&G first returned to NBC, I was a bit underwhelmed by some of the writing. It seemed forced and a bit insecure – but it just took a few episodes for them to really get back in the swing of things and season 2 of the return is really on point. Debra Messing is better than ever (congrats on a Globe nomination!), as are Eric, Megan and Sean Hayes – who I’ve always greatly admired because of, what I like to consider his “big break” – the film, Billy’s Hollywood Screen Kiss. Growing up gay, Will and Grace was a trailblazing, extremely important and relevant show to so many of us because there wasn’t much of that on TV. But I’ll always remember that adorable indie of Sean’s. He should make more movies! I love him in Pieces of April too!

9. I LOVE YOU AMERICA: with SARAH SILVERMAN

Sarah has always been my absolute favorite comedian. Jesus is Magic is probably one of the most brilliant stand-up comedy feature films I’ve ever seen (are there many of those) combining music, comedy, political satire, sexually inappropriate and explicit linguistics… nothing is off limits. From jokes about AIDS, Martin Luther King Jr. and the Holocaust, to her dead grandmother’s rape to pussy jokes about child lesbians she’s related to. On her new Hulu series, Silverman takes a tour of the great country we live in, United States of A, talking to Trump supporters, men and women of all colors, shapes and sizes and makes an honest, unbiased, non-judgmental effort to deliver an intellectual perspective on all things current and heated in the minds of many. I love her condescending approach, ability to keep her cool, remain true to herself and do something important with her career. It’s a humbled and divine dose of reality that I think we all need, as at the end of the day she’s basically trying to unite us and get people to understand that despite our differences, respect and kindness can truly inspire change.

8. POSE

First of all – watch Paris is Burning, if you’ve never seen it.

I remember when I worked for the super cool East-coast indie video chain, TLA Video, it was one of the most popular rentals in our Gay and Lesbian section, as it should be. It’s a classic documentary that captures the heart, sole and strut of African American LGBTQ culture during the AIDS epidemic, when being a queen and going to the balls would begin to define what FIERCE meant for a generation. (Play: Azealia Banks, Fierce). It’s one of RuPaul’s favorite movies and certainly inspiration for Ryan Murphy’s vivid and heartfelt FX series starring Evan Peters, James Van Der Beek, Kate Mara and a wonderful assortment of newcomers including the fetch, fierce, versatile and gorgeous MJ Rodriguez, Dominique Jackson and (MY FAVE) Indya Moore.

7. CAMPING

Ever since 13 Going on 30, I’ve known Jennifer Garner was a unicorn. She has that innate ability to charm, impress and entertain us with charisma and natural comedic talent. When it comes to the American adaptation of the Brit series Camping, developed for HBO (in part with Girls’ master Lena Dunham), the team surely arranged the most perfect blend of talent for both behind and in front of the camera. Garner brings the most complicated and hilarious nuances to her character and proves she is more than capable of leading a most diverse and perfectly perfect blend of talent.

6. OZARK

Janet McTeer!! OMG! This woman is amazing and really the force that makes the sophomore season of the hit Netflix drug smuggling/money laundering/gangsta livin’ series all the more bombastic. Sure, Jason Bateman continues to be awesome in every way, but the women on the latest season (even the creepy old meth lady who wants a baby at 99) really slay and own the show, keeping us on the edges of our seats and beyond impressed with how hard anyone with a vagina is proving that they are taking over the world these days. As if we needed more reasons to be obsessed with Laura Linney – she takes her character to new heights, getting more screen time and really being thrust into a more evolved dynamic – sort of how Robin Wright does on House of Cards. As though the audience was more drawn to the female than the male lead the series was built around. But Janet McTeer?! Holy fuck, Janet McTeer. She’ll make your skin crawl and keep you up at night… binge-watching.

5. THE AFFAIR

Showtime’s scandalous, suspenseful and intricate portrait of love, marriage and infidelity has been one of my must-see series since its debut. The entire cast is pure magic, especially the four leads – Dominic West, Ruth Wilson, Maura Tierney and Joshua Jackson. I’m constantly lobbying for Tierney, who continues to blow my mind with everything from those perfect, pouty lips to the way she can make my heart melt with a single tear. Last season, the twists and turns were so unexpected – something so refreshing these days when it comes to storytelling – that none of us could’ve ever seen coming what we now have to go into season five knowing (and grieving with, in my case). This is one of of those shows that stands tall from start to finish, and continues to inspire the way character and perspective is conveyed, as well as how we process it ourselves as an audience. I’ve always been fascinated by the same story being told through different goggles – kind of like in The Rules of Attraction, or Go. I can’t wait to see how this show wraps up, as I am pretty certain we move into the final act, which in itself is always a great quality for a series to know when to wrap it up.

4. HERE & NOW

Alan Ball, oh how I love thee. In the evidence of his brilliance, my affection toward Ball’s beautiful writing and ability to conduct such a beautiful cinematic symphony began with Six Feet Under, as it did most. If ever there were a perfect start to finish series… Rare is the artistic bird who can take such a celebrated drama and weave the social and political issues into a horror series – which is what he did with the addictive True Blood, a show that I would find myself equally hypnotized and aroused by. Ball’s latest gem is yet again a celebration of why we love HBO, his observant mind and heart, and ability to recognize genius when he sees it, in regard to casting. The always wonderful Holly Hunter and Tim Robbins headline a cast of brave, beautiful talents – including the tiny miracle that is the birth-child of Kyra Sedgwick and Kevin Bacon, Sosie, who is one of my favorite actors/characters in this captivating new drama that celebrates all the feels of our current reality. It’s a mixed blend of understanding the human condition and how people of all walks relate to one another while truggling with matters of the heart and psychological warfare.

3. RUPAUL’S DRAG RACE

For ten seasons now, Queen of Drag, RuPaul Charles has been taking her dynasty and giving it a royal upgrade every season with eye-popping elements that consistently allow this groundbreaking competition series to be one of queer and pop culture’s most celebrated. From the guest judges (Season X premiered with a Farrah Moan-esque Christina Aguilera dolled up for all the queens to gag over, which they did – myself included) to Michelle Visage’s dazzling eyewear collection to the costumes to the casting and the challenges – which get more and more innovative – Rupaul’s Drag Race has become a small empire that has the promise to spinning into so many different types of series and assure celebrity drag careers are a thing of the future, now more than ever. I loved the queens this season, especially my future husband Kameron Michaels (beautiful inside and out, boy or girl) and the well-deserved winner Aquaria. This was the second season in a row for me (I haven’t seen a lot of the previous seasons) where Ru got it absolutely perfect. I’m also a huge fan of Vice’s The Trixie and Katya Show which you should get into as well!

2. THE MARVELOUS MRS. MAISEL

All of the hype surrounding the Golden Globe & Emmy winning Amazon Prime series starring the incomparable Rachel Brosnahan as Mrs. Maisel, is the type of perfection that isn’t all-talk. Everything you’ve heard about this hilarious gem of a binge-worthy comedy is true: the costumes, the production design, the brilliant performances, directing and top-notch writing is on trend with celebrating everything we love about women in the world right now, and the time capsule reminds us of how far everyone has come marching to the beat of optimism and fighting for equality. I’m so happy the great Alex Borstein has been honored and been receiving praise for her work, and rightfully so, as she steals scenes from the great Maisel herself in the latest season. It’s truly one of the best watches out there, so get into it!

1. SCHITT’S CREEK

What started out as a little Canadian sitcom from a then unknown Pop TV, has since become a pop culture phenomenon and one of the small screen’s most celebrated, quoted and adored comedies out there. In Season four, we continue to follow the Rose’s on their journey of personal growth, going from riches to rags in a small bumfuck town where they clearly stick out like a redneck tooth fairy for plenty of good reasons. We already knew Catherine O’Hara and Eugene Levy were totes brilliant, but every season I grow more and more enamored with how crazy talented Dan Levy & Annie Murphy are. Their nuances, the way the arcs of their characters have evolved… it’s like their learning from two comic legends and its working for them every step of the way. This is truly already an iconic, feel good show that is spreading such messages of love and beauty throughout society. Loves it!

[martinamwi61-blog]

Rock Music? The Attempt Of An Clarification!

Where MAMM is already well known for its enjoyable, electrical guitar-driven rock programming reminiscent of its fashionable summer camp series , its annual Women Rock ! Sadly, and unlike many of the other entries on the record, time hasn't been type to Yamaha's popular FM flagship. While it spawned plenty of spin-offs within the DX series (most visibly the favored TX81Z and Derrick Could's beloved DX-a hundred), as more and more followers have gravitated in the direction of analogue sounds, the interest in FM synthesis has dropped off. Hear rigorously and you may hear a revival in the making (Night Slugs are positively fans), but FM synthesizers nonetheless don't pull in the form of after-market costs that you simply see hooked up to their analogue brethren. One thing I have to disagree with from the video: nice music might take repeated listenings to acknowledge. Once I listen to a new album, there are some tracks that instantly stick out, that I instantly like, and others that simply sort of mix in. However after I proceed to listen to an album, it is not simply that I'm turning into more familiar with the songs, it is that I'm studying them extra deeply. Oftentimes, my lengthy-standing favourite songs end up coming from those who didn't stand out to me the first time. It was solely after repeated listenings that I grew to appreciate their depth. The principle conceptual strategies of musicmap to achieve a satisfactory equilibrium include grouping closely related genres collectively (sibling genres"), coloration coding a lot larger style teams (tremendous-genres"), and introducing a deeper layer of lesser influential subgenres. Hereby the total quantity of the intermediate or primary genres might be diminished to 234. That is deliberately far from the doable whole quantity of genres (roughly 600 or extra, some sources declare over a thousand) to allow easy orientation and good overview. And sure, it's liked by a giant number of individuals. Could not include you, however many others do. So yes, Koop is common. It does not need a flippin ranking of numbers. Popularity is not based mostly off that. You don't have to grasp kpop or like however at least present some respect to the artist, even if not the followers. We do not need opinions that are impolite. If you wish to say something, please look into the definition of recognition reasonably than rankings. They do not need to be better than Drake or Ed Sheeran to be well-liked. Also this text is somewhat putting kpop down. Don't do that. We don't put down different artists. BMI was primed to take full benefit of pop music's growth within the publish-struggle years. For example, Tennessee Waltz," composed by Redd Stewart and Pee Wee King in 1947, grew to become one of the largest pop hits of 1950 when Patti Web page recorded the song. Tony Bennett loved considered one of his first hits in 1951 with a cover of Hank Williams ' Chilly, Cold Coronary heart." A parallel phenomenon was the mainstream success achieved by white pop performers with covers of rhythm & blues songs. Little Richard co-wrote and originally recorded Tutti Frutti," however Pat Boone had an even bigger Pop hit with his model of the music. Amongst other key composers of the interval had been Chuck Berry (Roll Over Beethoven," Rock & Roll Music"), Otis Blackwell (All Shook Up," Fever," Do not Be Cruel"), and Felice & Boudleaux Bryant (who wrote Bye Bye Love" and All I Have To Do Is Dream" for the Everly Brothers). What are the greatest pop music bands? That's up to you to determine on this listing of pop music artists. Nonetheless, when determining who should be thought of the best pop music artists, you should not be voting on widespread pop music bands. This should only consider the quality of their songs. This listing solutions the questions "who are the perfect pop music bands of all time?" and "who is the greatest pop music musician ever?" If you happen to notice a pop group or pop artist missing, feel free so as to add them to this ballot. It's as much as you to determine who's one of the best pop musician of all time, so choose wisely.

Now here is the complement to the continuing suggestion: find one thing to do this's totally different from the competition in your combine. It would already be nestled in the tracks given to you—a component performed barely more forward of the beat than the others, or a synth sound not quite consistent with the present aesthetic. Or, you might need to vogue such a distinction your self, based by yourself inspiration and inclination. But the significance of this can't be overstated: whereas pop music can sound fairly homogenous, usually it's the tunes with one standout factor that cuts through. Yeah, however as far as Ableton is anxious, I decided to move myself utterly out of it. I merely do not have time to do all the things I want to do. And making artwork is more vital for me than making commercial instruments. That is the primary cause. The other reason is that to run such a giant ship as Ableton, you must make lots of selections which are enterprise choices. I found it more durable and more durable to localize myself in such an surroundings because I've totally different concepts, you recognize. And I can have completely different ideas, because I needn't cater to DJs, songwriters or no matter. I cater to the people who like to hearken to my music, and that is it. The more rapid implication of Jehan's work has not been the human-to-robot present of artwork, however lowering a track to a small set of knowledge points that say something in regards to the song typically, akin to valence" (roughly the glad to sad spectrum) and power" (arousing to soporific). Shortly after finishing his dissertation, www.Magicaudiotools.com Jehan co-based an organization referred to as EchoNest, and the info became a pillar of Spotify's advice methods, determining music similarity and precisely suggesting songs that sound alike. Rytis Mažulis' (b.1961) work is marked by a specific stylistic purity, integrity and symmetry of a musical texture based mostly on a counterpoint techniques (largely canons). The structural isomerism and homogeneity of his music is determined by the composer's makes an attempt to find the mathematical and bodily relations between time, area and sound. In line with this overall minimalist idea, the composer chooses instrumentations consisting from equivalent instruments or voices, and www.goodreads.com the range of expression in his work spreads from ethereal vocal compositions to monstrous hyper-canons for pc-piano. Like Kabelis, Mažulis is also involved in the most subtle micro-interval divisions of pitch and the simultaneous pulsations of mathematically calculated completely different tempos. Somewhat more acceptable to the unprepared listeners, the music of Mažulis seamlessly absorbs them into its lengthy cyclical motion, nearly unchanging in time and house.

[acsversace-news]

As American Crime Story Season 2 continues its backward trajectory through time, another strange chapter in its subject's life will be put under the microscope. Andrew Cunanan's relationship with Norman Blachford is The Asassination Of Gianni Versace's next focus, in the Feb. 28 episode, titled "Descent." For those fans wondering what the show would be about now that the entirety of Cunanan's allleged cross-country killing spree has been depicted, don't worry: there's still plenty of tragic material left in Cunanan's life to examine in the season's final four episodes. Spoilers ahead.

What was Andrew Cunanan doing before he flew to Minnesota, murdered Jeff Trail, and abducted David Madson? That's the subject of "Descent," which presents the show's version of Cunanan's time in San Diego, and his relationship with an older, wealthy man, played by Michael Nouri. Viewers have already gotten to know Cunanan's habit for lying about his extravagant lifestyle; but for a while those lies were true. Per the episode, he lived large off the dime of Norman Blachford, a retired millionaire in his 60s, and enjoyed all the excesses and privilege that he so envied Gianni Versace for. But how accurate is this plot?

According to an article in the San Diego Reader published after the first four murders but before his assassination of Versace, Cunanan met Blachford in Scottsdale, AZ, which is typically filled in the winter with citizens of La Jolla, an affluent San Diego neighborhood. In Maureen Orth's 1997 Vanity Fair article "The Killer's Trail" — which would go on to become her 1999 non-fiction book Vulgar Favors, on which Versace is based — she states that Cunanan began accompanying Blachford everywhere under the pretense of being his "decorator."

Blachford himself was a member of Gamma Mu, an "extremely private fraternity of about 700 very rich, mostly Republican, and often closeted gay men," as Orth describes. In 1995, Cunanan convinced Blachford to move permanently to La Jolla (citing "allergies he encountered in [Arizona]," according to the Reader), and enjoyed a lavish allowance given to him by his older consort. Orth reported that Blachford gave Cunanan "$2,000 a month, and provided him with a 1996 Infiniti I30T to tool around in." She added that they traveled to the South of France and Paris in June of 1996 and also to New York City to see shows.

During his time with Blachford, many of the older man's friends and associates seemed to notice Cunanan's penchant for spinning elaborate lies — but the young man was charming enough to get away with it. "He was young and attractive, entertaining, good company — what's not to like?” Orth quoted one acquaintance as saying. But Cunanan was also “sad on two levels: He's got a lot going for him, I thought. He doesn't need all this sham. He was also a young man ultimately with no career ambitions in any direction. He pretty much said he was interested in older men for their financial situations. He made no bones about that, and he would say it in front of Norman."

Eventually not even Blachford's level of extravagance was enough for Cunanan. The young man moved out of Blachford's home, complaining to his friend Tom Eads that his patron was "too cheap," and he was tired of his "nickel-and-diming," according to Orth's article. She also reported that Cunanan wanted an even nicer car, to fly first class more often, and to repaint all the rooms in Blachford's La Jolla home. When he moved out, "Cunanan was astonished that Blachford would let him go," she wrote.

Ultimately, his separation from Blachford may have been a contributing factor to Cunanan's subsequent downward spiral. It was after this breakup that Cunanan grew even more obsessed with Jeff Trail, becoming the ex-Navy man's "constant companion," according to another article in the San Diego reader published a week after the first.

"I asked Jeff how Andrew was making ends meet after being frozen out by Blachford," the article quoted Michael Williams, a friend of Trail's, as remembering. "Jeff said, 'You know, I think Norman was giving him an allowance for a while, but I know that he's back to his old profession.' And I said, 'Profession? Why? What was his old profession?' And Jeff said, 'Oh, well, he sold drugs.' Cocaine. Crystal meth, ecstasy. And I think that that affected Jeff a lot. I think that if Jeff suspected that, he didn't want anything to do with it. And there became a huge distance between the two at that point, the end of last year." Of course, viewers will already know how that strained relationship allegedly ended.

There is one other interesting wrinkle in Cunanan's story introduced by his relationship with Blachford. According to Orth, the La Jolla house that he convinced Blachford to buy previously belonged to Lincoln Aston, another wealthy elderly friend of Cunanan, who was found bludgeoned to death in his home in 1995 — the same manner of death in which Trail was killed, only this time with a stone obelisk instead of a hammer. Eventually, a young drifter named Kevin Bond pled guilty to the murder, and San Diego police remain "satisfied with his confession," according to the Reader. But some people have their doubts, including someone who was close to Cunanan.

"I do think it's a possibility," Williams told the Reader. "I think it's very odd that the man was killed in that fashion, and Jeff was killed in that fashion. And Jeff told me Andrew told him he — Andrew — was the one who found [Aston's] body." We may never know whether Cunanan had anything to do with this sixth death… but the question itself is yet another reason why Cunanan's story remains so fascinating 20 years later.

[airadam]

Episode 144 : Multiples Of Twelve

"It ain't f-ing sensible."

- Strategy

I ended up completely changing the selection this month when, taking the lead from a few tracks I was considering, I decided to go with an all-downtempo selection - a continuous unbroken mix once the first lyric hits. That said, there's a serious mix of genres so you get a bunch of variety inside the hour-long show! Get yourself plugged in...

RIP to the legendary Chi Modu - the man responsible for some of the most iconic images in the culture.

Twitter : @airadam13

Twitch : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Duett : Video

An extremely short track to open things, just for the flavour! Duett, is a UK synthwave artist (only one person, despite the name) who has released some amazing records channeling that electronic 80s vibe. This one is drawn from the "O U T L I N E S" mini-album from last year - all tracks that were done in a day each - and is a bite-size motif that you could imagine as the sonic logo for a film company or TV station from the VHS era.

Meyhem Lauren ft. Hologram & Big Body Bes : Lexus In The Lobby

I was originally saving this for a future mix, but even though it would have fit perfectly thematically, it's so much slower than pretty much everything else that it may not have ultimately made the cut. This is an absolute gem from the original "Glass" EP, with Harry Fraud on production building an absolute vibe with a quality sample that may be familiar to German listeners and some heavy 808 action. Meyhem Lauren is of course the best MC on the cut but Hologram on the first verse definitely kicks a memorable opening quatrain!

Mikhail Chekalin : As If It Was Not From Here

Going super left-field early for this instrumental bed! Chekalin was a radically-innovative composer from Russia who was not embraced by the Soviet government - they felt his work was too "Western" and while his music was heard by some plugged-in people in the outside world, he wasn't able to tour internationally or release his music outside the USSR. Thankfully for music lovers, times have changed and the "ГАР001: Михаил Чекалин «Экзальтированная Колыбельная 1979 – 1987»" collection (don't even think about asking me to pronounce that) is now available on Bandcamp, and is a great collection of his electronic work - his own take on what could be done with the synths of the time. His sound is a worthy companion to the other greats who were also experimenting at the time, from Jan Hammer to Jean Michel Jarre.

TY ft. Rootz & Deborah Jordan : Eyes Open

It's been a year this month since TY passed and I was glad to find one of his tracks fitting into this pace perfectly, one from his excellent final LP "A Work Of Heart". He was always an excellent MC from the first to the last, and he does himself proud here, spitting thoughtful lyrics with a rapid sharp flow. OG Rootz (formerly Durrty Goodz) is a solid complement, and Deborah Jordan adds a vocal decoration that puts the whole self-produced track over the top. I do like the unexpected switch to French for the hook later in the song too, just *chef's kiss*.

Bumpy Knuckles : Step Up

If you're a real Hip-Hop geek, the highlight on this track might just be the brilliant cuts by DJ Rukas on the hook, not only sharp but incorporating a very clever manipulation of a line from the stone-cold classic "Top Billin'" by Audio Two. Bumpy Knuckles goes in with a quasi-double-time flow in typically rugged fashion over the production of BeatBanga, who gets his only Discogs credit in fine style. You can find this on the "Konexion" album, which is well worth having.

Flatbush Zombies : Laker Paper

It might not be the most conscious track in the world, but it does have the exact type of sonic energy to fit into this spot! Despite the production style (courtesy of Erick Arc Elliott) and the track title, the clue is in the name - this is a trio from Brooklyn who released this cut on their debut mixtape "D.R.U.G.S". They don't try to dazzle with a quick flow on this beat, they stick to their style and settle into it at its native speed.

Samantha James : Come Through

Even for those who might not be into a record like this most of the time, I thought that bassline and the underlying lazy drum break might draw you in! This track was one of the highlights of the 2007 "Rise" LP from LA-based Samantha James. If you like a varied electronic music album, it's one you should check out - a little house, a little broken beat, some singer-songwriter vibes, a showcase for a singer comfortable with working with different production types.

Jake One : Evelen Gravest

We bridge the first and second mixes with a beat from the man Jake One, taken from his free gospel-themed "#PrayerHandsEmoji" beat tape. It'd be worth a purchase, but for zero dinero it's a must-have!

Kano : Ps & Qs

Coming out of East Ham, London, this is one of the early breakthrough grime tracks from a pioneer of the scene. This 2004 debut 12" release was a bit hit on the underground and helped Kano build momentum into the release of his "Home Sweet Home" album. DaVinche's big bombastic beat is an iconic one - a perfect underscoring for Kano, and can still mash up a dance even today.

DJ Quik ft. Hi-C and James DeBarge : Ev'ryday

One of my favourite cuts from Quik's 2002 "Under Tha Influence" LP (which, being a relentless perfectionist, he probably hated the minute he finished it). At the time there really wasn't much, if anything, out that sounded like this, and it was interesting to hear a musician and engineer of his skill level bring that to that double-time style. That stuttering bass and the skipping drum pattern work together brilliantly, and James DeBarge coming through with that hook might just be the vocal highlight.

Strategy : LengBreak

Time flies, and it's already been ten years since the release of the "Pre-Season Training" mixtape from Salford's Strategy, who continued to build his skills in fine style. "Bleep Test" and "Kill 'Em" were the standout tracks for me, and this one kind of passed me - maybe it was my personal taste in beats, maybe it was that I just didn't smoke! I gave it another listen this month and very much deserves a proper airing. One question for those of you who partake - all these years later, how do those prices sound? 🙂

Tobe Nwigwe ft. Royce Da 5'9" and Black Thought : Father Figure

Easily one of the best and most unique MCs to emerge in years, you'll have heard Tobe on this podcast a few times before and his collective have continued to impress and to elevate their profile. This killer is from last year's "Cincoriginals" album, and it's a meeting of heavyweight MCs. The fact that Tobe holds his own against both Royce and Thought, who is widely regarded as the MC's MC, while maintaining his own style, shows that he deserves all the praise he's been getting and more. Nell on production, as always, with the heavy low end for your system.

9th Wonder : Black Album Rejects, Track 15

One more of the instrumentals that 9th Wonder brought to Jay-Z for "The Black Album" that was ditched in favour of the brand-new "Threats" beat that launched him into the consciousness of many. The "rejects" were still dope as anything though.

Children of Zeus : No Love Song

Brand new Zeus! If you know what's good for you you'll be going to place a pre-order for the upcoming "Balance" album, but we've got this as an appetiser for now. Beat Butcha provides the laid-back soulful groove on which Tyler and Konny emphatically don't give you the love song that most other artists would given the same production. If you've been following this podcast, you would have first heard CoZ in the SoundCloud days, and it's been amazing to see this Manchester crew continue to produce great music - and the rest of the world catch up!

Corinne Bailey Rae : Walk On

Representing the city of Leeds lovely, Corinne Bailey Rae is a fine musician who brings the quality every time out. Her third LP, "The Heart Speaks In Whispers", was a worthy follow up to "The Sea", and saw her pairing with Steve Brown on production. This starts with a jazz club reserve and builds from there as she offers inspiration to keep on pushing through difficult circumstances - a message certainly relevant to the current time.

Rae & Christian ft. Lisa Shaw : Should Have Known

I'd somehow forgetten I even had this one! Lisa Shaw is best known for her deep house career, but her sublime voice is a versatile one and she's also on some soulful/downtempo stuff like this Manchester production from the Grand Central Records founding duo. The "Central Heating 2" compilation might be worth owning for this alone.

Zero 7 : Spinning

We finish a coincidentally all-UK segment with a track that didn't make the cut for the original UK release of the "Simple Things" album (twenty years ago!), but I believe was on the US version (plus the recent special edition release) as well as on the B-side of the "I Have Seen" 12". Sophie Barker takes the vocal reins, and it's a beautiful song.

L'indécis x sad toï : Dog Days

For the final instrumental break, we go to the Chillhop label, which specialises in releasing this kind of material - in this case, on the "Chillhop Essentials - Fall 2018" compilation. This track is an all-French connection, with sad toï (sic) alongside Grenoble's L'indécis for a relaxed and partly-acoustic beat that suits a lazy summer day just as much as the autumn.

Scritti Politti : Brushed With Oil, Dusted With Powder

"The day began to decline" - I think many of us can relate to that feeling! One more UK track to close the episode, and this is the one that I think will divide listeners the most. Personally, I love this. It's one of those tunes where no-one seems to agree on the exact meaning of the lyrics, but when Green sings "...some keys they found there"...well, that could be read multiple ways! This was a great close to the "Anomie & Bonhomie" album, with a long instrumental outro to cool us all the way out at the very end of the episode.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

Michelle Clapton didn’t even use the books or even history to properly design the costumes on this show.  Westeros is supposed to be medieval inspired Europe, but instead of creating the costumes described in the books and using actual historical resources in designing these costumes, she decided she wanted total creativity because it’s a fantasy world, but instead of using real world historical costuming as a basis in which she could give fantastical elements to, she decided to put the women in robes basically.  Now I’m not saying all her costumes were crap, some were pretty good, and her embroidery is pretty amazing, but you can’t see the embroidery on film, so all of her tiny details were pretty much meaningless.  And the fact that she didn’t play with rich colors or fabrics or jewels just kills me.  On one hand I do believe D&D were responsible for the limited jewelry and crowns, because they were always obsessed with focusing on the actor’s faces and not having distractions when they do that, but at the end of the day Clapton designed some lackluster fantasy costuming either way that pretty much had very little historical influence.

House of the Dragon from what I can tell from the few promo images, the BTS leaks, and the new teaser trailer, is actually doing a good job with the costumes.  They are rooted in reality, while also taking the GOT costumes into account, while designing these.  From what I can tell these costumes are mainly inspired by European Medieval and Renaissance fashion from the 15th to 17th centuries.  There are definitely Restoration inspired costumes and the headgear that is being shown is distinctly 15th and 16th century inspired.  The fabrics all seem very rich, the characters are actually wearing more jewelry to showcase their wealth and power and it looks like they are also using some descent colors so far from what I’ve seen.  There is an obvious fantastical spin to medieval-esque clothing like I imagined in the books.  However, it still looks like we aren’t getting specific silhouettes just like how GOT ignored this as well.  It doesn’t look like we are getting typical stays or corsetry, or shifts/chemises, or really full skirts (I may be wrong about this one as most of the costumes I’ve seen so far are only showing the top half of the costume and the full gowns I’ve seen may be exceptions to the fuller skirts, but I do think these skirts are more full than the ones in GOT either way, even if they aren’t as full or structured like in the real world medieval era).  Either way, I much prefer these costumes to Michelle Clapton’s so far, like every new costume I see leaves me more and more impressed.  The costumes shown for Corlys Velaryon, Rhaenys Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon, and Laena Velaryon in the teaser trailer had me gasping at the richness and beauty of them.  Loved how their wealth and power were displayed.  And young!Rhaenyra in the renaissance inspired French Hood was gorgeous and I can’t wait to see the rest of that costume.  I am pretty optimistic so far about these costumes and so far I think they are 100x better than Clapton’s.

Couldn’t agree more about your assessment of Arya’s costumes in GOT.  Honestly I don’t think Clapton liked her or was particularly inspired by her.  The fact that Arya had the same costume from S2 to the beginning of S5 is just atrocious especially when Arya had many clothing changes in the books before reaching Braavos.  In fact, Arya at the very least had 6 outfit changes between this time in the books where 4 of those costumes were dresses (Arya was made to wear a gray roughspun shift in Harrenhal before being put in Bolton clothing) so it’s absolutely ridiculous she didn’t get any new costumes for several years even though you know Clapton must have been remaking that costume because of Maisie growing up.  And it’s especially ridiculous that Arya only had one style of costume through most of S7 and all of S8.  Like changing the color don’t freaking count.  And this makes absolutely no sense in universe.  Arya is a noble, and no one there was trying to cozy up to her and make her clothes by doing that?  Yeah right.  They couldn’t even give Arya any type of armor during the long night (yet Sansa, a non combatant got some).  And they couldn’t have given Maisie her wish of one feminine costume in the end?  Like if D&D weren’t such jerks with a limited view on Arya, Arya could have easily gone to the feast in 8x04 in a dress Sansa made for her and had a version of the Acorn Hall scene.  LIke Arya is super social in the books, I doubt she would have sat the feast out because she’s not some creepy loner like the show depicted.  And like you said, they refused to allow Arya to wear the Stark sigil, because it makes sense that one of the Stark’s with the most loyalty to her family and is one of the most northern won’t wear her house sigil when at home.  Yeah that makes sense, especially after Arya reclaimed her identity at the end of S6. /s  Honestly Clapton and D&D did Arya and Maisie so dirty in this show.  Like I can’t forget how they forced Maisie to bind her chest, and used makeup to make her nose look broader, to infantilize Arya while also trying to ugly Maisie up, but the fact is that Arya is actually going through an Ugly Duckling arc in the books and is growing into her looks and becoming beautiful.  Pretty much the only decent costume Arya got was her Cat of the Canals costume, but the hair style they put her in was completely unflattering and just ruined the whole look for me.  Arya deserved better than those hacks.

You know what's really frustrating about the costume of the show ? The fact that a world of ice and fire has this amazing illustrations with great accurate costumes and we are never going to see something resembling that on-screen (although maybe in house of the dragon ?) Seriously Aegon look amazing.

Where did the colors go ? Those are rich aristocratic families. They can pay for incredibly nice furs and colors (this is especially about the Starks who are somewhat painted as rugged...which... they are wardens of the North and an ancient family of kings and lords. Can we have some rich costumes for them ?)

Also,since I'm complaining about the costumes, let's talk Arya who does sometines wear dresses in the books even if she does prefer more comfortable clothing to run and play, forever bitter that we never saw the acorn dress which is described in details...

Arya's biggest theme is changing her identity which also mean changing costumes to adapt to said identity (she could have had so much fun with the braavosi costumes who are so colourful against the grey of the city).

To tie it up to Arya's ultimate character progression, she could have changed those costumes but still keep an element related to Arya of House Stark that is always there (the wolf motif of grey/white of her house for exemple) showing through the costume that Arya cannot erase her own identity since that probably her endgame.

They sorta did it with Sansa's hair,showing her growth,why couldn't we have that with Arya ? Instead we get almost the same outfit from season 2 to season 4, she gave us almost nothing for Braavos and then same outfit for season 7 and 8 ?