#ignore how i'm posting this a day late i drew them on the right day i swear

[lepidjester]

happy birthday my beautiful princess with a disorder <3

we've got a LOT of birthday kisses to get in!!

[pluralforsheep]

CW: Nazism, TribeTwelve, swear words, (vent??)

Spoilers for EMH, Canyouseethewords blog, TribeTwelve and Sebastian's Journal.

Hi, it's me again. No shit. So. It's been like a month since the whole drama unfolded and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. I know things have quieted down lately, and like many others, I wish we could all move on and forget this ever happened. However, I can't simply recover from it, mainly because I feel the posts about me continue to spread on this platform, radiating the negativity and false info about me to this day. This drama has been devouring me for a long time now, and I've decided to make another post. I gotta admit I haven't been 100% honest in my previous post, it was more of my attempt to back off, cry over it and avoid this drama. But I'm not doing that again. I'm done pretending and I'm tired of being nice and tolerating others when they're completely misguided. I'm fucking angry. That's why I decided to make one more post about this and I have so many things to say. This is not another apology post, think of it as a vent post and recap explanation of everything where I'll be brutally honest.

Also, if anyone of you is a Nazi supporter, get the fuck out. I do not welcome you here.

First of all, I do not understand why my efforts have been ignored. I did everything that was asked of me. I acknowledged my so-called ''mistakes'', I owned up to them, deleted the posts, apologized, explained my intentions, and you decide to just fucking ignore it?? What do you want from me then, huh? I'm not the ignorant here, you are fucking ignorants. Made me realize I actually haven't done anything wrong. Made me wonder if I should've even deleted those posts, I put a lot of effort into them, and some people actually liked them. It's not my fault some of you are sensitive and brainwashed by censorship culture and you can't accept or understand a canon-accurate depiction of characters. You think I've been sweeping something under the rug? No. In fact, it's the opposite. You've been sweeping this whole shit under the rug by dismissing me as a Nazi supporter, just because I drew something that was considered canon for so many years. I've done nothing wrong, I've been honest about my art the entire time. I draw what I enjoy and what is accurate to the lore. I love history and the Slenderverse, and I draw canon-accurate content, yet you get mad over it. It's so ridiculous. If this post can't open your fucking eyes, I don't know what else will, and frankly I don't care anymore. I'm done with this shit. I've acted like the adult I am, and took responsibility. However I'm not going to point any fingers or dismiss anyone specifically, because I am not like this.

And to everyone: If you don't like something, just ignore it. But if it really seems problematic and malicious, why not contact the person directly and talk it out, or find ways to know their true intentions instead of making hundreds of hate-posts about them like some pissy children. This is such a toxic behavior.

About the whole Nazi stuff:

Don't get me wrong. Nazism is a sensitive topic, I understand that. But I think being offended by it right now, in the 21st century, is just so ridiculous to me. I understand it can get very annoying tho. They talk about WW2 and the Austrian painter on TV non-stop. But being offended by some art? Like, are you serious. Do you realize Nazi shit has been in so many fanfiction, stories and literature for so many years, and you have no reason to get offended by it? The Nazi concept has been used in so many media, whether just for a joke or a serious plot point. South Park, Family Guy, Indiana Jones, Marvel Universe, X-Men, The Boys, and God knows what else.. Would you get offended by a fanart of cute little fat boy Eric Cartman? Of course not. But I can easily say: ''He's a Nazi! You drew a cute fanart of him! You're a Nazi supporter!'' That's you. That's how you sound. Do you see how ridiculous that is? There are thousands of people shipping him with Kyle Broflovski, oh but he's a Jew, and they hate each other in the show. Yet there are artists who make ship art of them. Does anyone complain? At the end of the day, they're just fictional characters, and I rather ignore it even if it kinda annoys me. Btw, South Park is just an example of this issue, I'm not targeting anyone or anything specifically here.

The Brandit post:

I really need to go back and add something to that post of HABIT saying ''LET'S FUCK AND PISS OFF OUR ANCESTORS.'' which creeped Firebrand out (honest reaction). That quote seemed really harsh, I know. Was it bad humor? Yeah.. But do I regret drawing this? At this point, I must say no. I did not stutter. As I said, I will be brutally honest from now on. Do you think HABIT wouldn't say that? Do you think he wouldn't say something sexual to a Jewish person, or frankly to anyone really? Yes, he would!! It's in his nature, he's fucked up. Are we trynna ignore the fucking scene of HABIT pulling the jerk off gesture at Noah?? Did we all not see the same thing?? He is like this. He makes fun of him while adding Christmas decorated borders on a letter for him. He's aware Noah is Jewish, yet he pulls a sexual gesture at him. Don't try to deny this one.

About the symbols... From what I've just said, I drew the little symbols there next to them (Star of David and Hakenkreuz) because I wanted people to see and realize the fact that these two guys are a Jew and a (former) Nazi, which people have been sweeping under the rug, not me. Also, if anyone remembers the post I made, I believe I wrote ''I should have put Christmas borders there as well/jk.'' under it or something like that. I removed it later on because people didn't seem to get it. It was obviously a reference to Severance. Everything I draw is a fucking reference. That being said, this post was made for awareness, not romanticization, and I do not ship them, neither romantically nor platonically, I just really like drawing them together, because of their iconic trope, canon interactions, mutual respect and shared spite for Slenderman, and the fact that HABIT helped Noah many times. That's it. Also, I wouldn't ship HABIT with anyone romantically. That is just wrong in so many levels.

Canyouseethewords blog and Sebastian's Journal:

If you didn't grasp the point of the Josef Mengele post either, go read Canyouseethewords blog here on Tumblr. It's part of the EMH lore. Basically, this blog belonged to Evan's girlfriend Stephanie, but HABIT takes over the blog later on and makes various posts about infamous real serial killers, such as Ed Gein, Jack the Ripper, and even the Nazi doctor, Josef Mengele. Whether HABIT wanted to imply that he's possessed those various people, that part of lore remains silent. At some point, I believed he's possessed those various people, so I wanted to to draw one of them, and I chose to draw Josef simply because I liked the idea of the connection with him and The Event from T12. That's it. And if that weren't the case that he's possessed any of those people, which would be rather a big relief, he's still possessed a different Nazi character in T12, which has been retconned. A character that no one really seems to know of, which is understandable. I get that some people don't want to analyze and support T12 anymore after what Adam did. In all honesty, I think sometimes it's best to separate the creator from the creation. I hate Adam, but I love T12. Anyway, in the story of Sebastian's Journal is a guy named Sergeant Heine who is (or was supposed to be) possessed by HABIT at some point. It implies to Severance where HABIT said he's been working with a group of Nazis on a particular project, including Sebastian. However, that connection has been retconned.

The HABIT/Nazi lore shit, people keep complaining and pissing about for no reason:

Listen, it was part of the lore for so many years that it's difficult to simply ignore it now. As someone who's been part of the Slenderverse fandom for years, going back, I just cannot think of it as a non-canon at this point. And I've already said the point of HABIT's character, and you all should know this by now. However I'll clarify it again anyways. The point is that he's an abomination of all the horrific actions humanity has committed, including atrocities of Nazism. He's done so many bad shit, as if eating a baby on screen wasn't enough, yet, of all the things he's done, people get mad over him being a former Nazi?? Like are you kidding me.. It's so ridiculous and hypocritical.

However... When I think about it, maybe HABIT was never even a Nazi, I mean- Working with them is one thing. He probably doesn't even give a single fuck about some ideology bullshit. He likely participated in the Nazi party purely for the sake of killing people. He wouldn't care less if his victims were Jews, Romani, or anyone else, he simply enjoys killing people for the sake of torture. Heck, he doesn't even remember the name of the party he was in. In Severance, he stuttered when trying to say ''Nazis'', which, in my opinion, was funny as hell. But that one is just an idea of his character.

Anyway. Even if HABIT wasn't a former Nazi at all, would it change anything? Absolutely not. He would still be the same horrible piece of shit he is. And sorry not sorry, but he was never meant to be a likable character. As a well-written antagonist, yes. But as a person? Hell no, so far from it. There is literally no reason for people to get mad over him being a former Nazi, and if you are, it's hypocritical of you, considering everything else he's done.

I must say one more thing, and it's the only thing I'm truly sorry for is that I didn't put content warnings and explanations on those posts. I made people angry unnecessarily for my impulsive actions.

I think that's all. Perhaps I've learned something by the end of the day, and I hope that at least some of you who are reading this, have learned something as well. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this (if you have), I appreciate it so much. See you on the flipside.

[spaceheadcadet]

I've been hyperfixated with a RnM for about two months now. Fairly new into the fandom, I know. Feeling kinda late, but oh well. And I like Doofus Rick. Especially after seeing a blog that drew him so well, I just can't stop. It made me really sad that I'm two–three, eh, heck many years late into this small wonderful side of the fandom. Anyway enough about the rant. I'll just post the thing I typed.

P.s. I haven't thought of a title yet.

It's a reader insert and I don't know how slow I can get the burn going. But here's part 1. Not proof read so I hope it's coherent.

It was raining when you saw him for the first time. Right in front of his yard, just standing alone and drenched in cold…from the heavenly tears falling down the sky. How melodramatic. Not that you judge the guy. You were just concern. 

Surely he’d be sick by tomorrow. Because your weak ass immune system definitely would. 

You were on your way to the old house that night,  the house you inherited from the man who made you never acknowledge the word father in your entire dysfunctional life. Just another ordinary night under the wailing sky, on your way to that cold shelter after a tiring day at work. You were fairly new into the neigborhood so you ignored him at first. Days turned to weeks and the rumours soon reached your notice, giving you more reasons to ignore the man with a blue bowl-cut hair. 

They said he was weird and something else you decide to dismissed until proven. 

Still it made you no better than the rest of the people that always belittles the man, turning your head the other way, passively you were still considered as an accomplice. But what good will it even do if you’re a nobody trying to survive just for another day. 

So, you carried on, passing by him multiple times whenever it rains or whenever you saw him into a nicer weather, you ignored him. Nothing but a coward hiding behind the mask of indifference and excuses. 

On some occasions you would see a glimpse of an entirely different persona on the man, whenever he was interacting with the next door neighbors. He was all smiles, naivety emitted from his demeanor, like a child wearing oversize clothes to pass off as an adult. Entirely different from the times you saw him standing under the rain. He was also a soft spoken fellow with an occasional stutter either caused by anxiety or a condition. 

You never understood how he could keep acting like he wasn’t ridiculed between hushed conversations and judging eyes. Always been optimistic or simply keeping himself into this safe bubble of blissful ignorance. Or how he was still treating everyone with kindness even though most of his efforts to reach out were usually reciprocated with a cold shoulder. 

And you were no different from them after he knocked on your door one morning, offering to help clean up the overgrown and neglected yard, another attempt to get to know you. Although his intention was pure coming from the polite offer, you halfheartedly decline. You didn’t want anything to do with him. 

Annoyingly on the next day it made you finally mow the lawn and clean up the overgrown in the backyard. It took a few months of ignoring the state of the house before you finally got the motivation needed to clean and fix the damn place, all thanks to the neighborhood's doofus(it’s mostly what you’d been hearing from the people around) knocking on your doorstep. You hoped that would be the last he would bother you. Since the first(giving you a box of cupcakes as a welcoming gift) interactions you got from him immediately garnered side glances in your direction. 

Sometimes you wished you were not so emotionally restrictive sometimes. To have even a miniscule amount of care to enact compassion instead of sticking by the comfort of apathy. 

Maybe time would come when you gathered enough courage to do something, even a small act of kindness. But for now you turned your head the other way, in the safety by him getting out of your field of vision. 

…

Neon signs and street lights blur behind the window, droplets of the rain started pelting on the glass. The sound of it stirred you out of your shallow-dazed sleep. It’s raining again. A tired resigned sigh fogged the cold material seeping through your forehead. 

Everything felt heavier, sluggish, and dizzying. You blinked off the dizziness fogged your vision.

Fucking great. 

Soon the bus slowed into the halt reaching the bus stop, it was your stop. Unsteady from intoxication you stumbled almost tripping forward, when the driver finally hit the break. You really hate your aunt sometimes, showing herself unannounced in your work, and dragging you to have a drink with her. 

A hasty apology blurted out of your mouth when you grabbed into one of the steel pole, startling the old man near it. You continued scrambling out of the bus until you get out with slurred thanks for the driver, and then run towards the waiting shed. Resting a bit on the bench you rummaged inside your bag for the folded umbrella. The rain went harder as if the sky was punishing you. You’re going home with a pair of wet socks and shoes again. Ugh, it didn’t help that you were barely walking straight. But the urge to eat and drink something just to remove the aversive sweetness at the back of your tongue, along with the burning emptiness in your stomach, maybe even brushing your teeth twice to be sure afterwards, was enough motivation for you to finally move your drunken ass. 

The umbrella opened with a pop and you walked towards the direction of the house with a slight sway in your gait. 

Your lips curved from a wince when the cold water started seeping through. Soggy fucking socks never felt good, one of the reasons why you always hated the rain. 

Hate. You always hated things. The prominent emotion you had growing up, so you grew to hate things that were constant in your life, just like the rain, just like the taste of the alcohol coated on your tongue. You hated that you had to walk wet all the way through the house. The damn house that was thrown into you because it was old, ugly, rotting, along with the people that had never been part of your life, either physically and emotionally. You hate–

Damn it! 

You stopped, eyes casted down on your shoes. You needed to stop or your thoughts will spiral back into that dark room. 

The hollowness in your chest itched the urge for a smoke. To fill your lungs, the sting, and burn down your throat just for the momentary feel of fullness expands in your chest. 

Desperate for a distraction to latch on to something, anything that will prevent you from further fanning the flame of self-hate just to keep the empty coldness in your chest consumed you.  

You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. Sighing heavily you looked up again, walking with more urgency this time. After taking a right turn, although your vision blurred a bit from moving your head faster towards the certain direction, a routine your attention gravitated to without fail, again he was there. 

Another variable that becoming constant in your life. 

Fueled by spite and vodka you stop on the other side of the street right in front of his house. This guy, what was so bad in his life that he have to stand under the fucking rain every time. Why does he act like the most pathetic human being right now? Why couldn’t he stay smiling and be naive? Why did you have to see this every time? 

The march came to a halt when you reached his unmoving figure, head tilted up in the sky, eyes shut from the world around him. Up close he looked…mournful. Calmly making peace with the antagonizing torrent around him. Like crying through his eyes wasn’t enough anymore that he had to cry along the sky. 

Stretching your arms forward you extended the umbrella towards him. Coldness started cascading the side and back of your head down to your nape, easing a bit of the heat caused by the alcohol and temper.  

He must be so deep in his mind that he hadn’t noticed your presence, but soon enough the lack of the rain hitting his face tugged him back in the moment. At first he only looked at the dark underside of the umbrella, then his head dropped, aligning his vision in your direction. He stared at you for a while, eyes still in deep before the awareness slowly stirring. 

A shake in your arm from the ache urged you to grab his cold hand guiding it on the handle. Both of your hands pressed his to secure the hold on the handle before you let go. And without saying a word you left. 

“Wait!” 

You pretend you didn’t hear him but you overestimate your ability to stride when your legs were barely stable, you were on the verge of puking your guts out, and head throbbing from the heaviness of exhaustion. 

So, color you surprised when a hand landed on your shoulder and the force of his pull easily knocked your balance. You forgot to take into account that your clumsiness shines whenever the alcohol was absorbed into your system. 

Stepping behind to rebalance yourself only resulted in slipping onto the wet surface before gravity won, once again. 

“Aw, geez, you slipped. Are you alright?” 

In an instant he was helping you, pulling you back up. The umbrella crookedly wedged between his neck and shoulders in an attempt to keep the umbrella upright.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” you grumbled while stabilizing your balance again. 

“Why shouldn’t I? You just left your umbrella, not that I don’t appreciate the gesture but now you are all wet. And I’m already drenched, so I don’t think I will need the–”

Damn you forgot that he rambles. “Keep it. You look like you need it more than I do.” You said ignoring most of his ramblings. 

He kept following you though and trying to cover you from the rain with the umbrella you’d just given him. Annoying long legged creature. 

“But I already own a few. I don’t need–”

“Then maybe use it next time. That’s its purpose after all.” You spat a little when a drop of rain hit your mouth.

“If you know its purpose then why are you giving it to me? You own this after all. You shouldn’t. You.. Why…why are you suddenly doing this?” 

You really wanted to reach your–the house faster and puked until your vision get hazy from tears, puked until you were sobbing and barely holding yourself up from the intensity of it, then maybe just maybe it would expel all the hate festering your insides, leaving holes. Then maybe you could stop latching into the battered mask from the accumulated resentment, finally let yourself grief, be free. 

“Because I need to feel the rain.” 

The crack in your hardened voice oozed the pain underneath the piled bricks of hate, built up like a pillar where you placed all other emotions you have. High, unreachable, detached from the world around you. And the crumbling pieces get into your eyes looking up in resignation, watching your stability crumble. 

You didn’t bother looking back, not even a glance to make sure he was still following you, not even when you no longer heard his footsteps. 

Trickles of hot and cold contradiction trailed on your cheeks. You just wanted to rest your tired eyes, lay down and just sink even for a moment, in the pool of your bottled up emotions. Then maybe this time you would be soaked enough of it to fill the pit inside. Hold all of it back inside and hope you are strong enough under pressure, the weight of it all the love that left nowhere to go.  

…

Fingers tapping hastily on the screen of the phone, you promised you’d never walk under the rain ever again. You didn’t regret it, but you were not doing it again. 

An itch in your throat spasmed a cough out of you. It came into strings, chains of events that after the bouts of scratching your throat in a form of dry coughing, now you feel it all raw. Sore throat was one of the signs your immune system had been compromised. 

You tapped the send. A simple notification for your supervisor that you couldn’t make it in the studio today. You even used your Aunt for a lame excuse, it’s her fault anyway. Forcing you to have a girls night which always entails consuming a large amount of alcohol. Always easier to blame others than hold yourself accountable, wow, you really do progress—ing further into being a POS. 

As you waited for the reply you grabbed the jar of honey in one of the cupboards for your tea. You clicked your mouth shut after the yawn, wincing from the pain when you swallowed again. 

In your temporary office, multiple boxes were still stacked in the corner of the room, a faded silhouette of squares and rectangles left on the obnoxious green wallpaper(not even the nice shade of green), some parts were even ripped from the posters you tore. You clean the questionable room and attempt to convert it into a small studio. But you still have a lot of work to do, for the room to be in your standard. Yet in the meantime it was better to have a clean workspace. 

When your dopamine was a poltergeist your motivation was equivalent to non existence at this point, except from the few hauntings every now and then.

So, yeah, for now you’d stick with a clean workspace. 

Knowing your supervisor the moment you open up your email you already got a job order. Man, even the concept of life and death didn’t jolt your supervisor even a bit, always the diligent asshole. 

An hour of editing later you needed another cup of tea for your throat and maybe food for your grumbling stomach. You almost grabbed a packet of cigarette and lighter, staring at the item contemplating if you would risk it. At the end the cigarette left untouched. 

Back in the kitchen you stood in front of the open refrigerator blankly staring inside the cold contraptions. You close it taking a deep breath before opening the ref again as if you were expecting the food in your mind wouldmanifest itself. 

There were times when you hated this tedious part of living. This was one of those days. 

Grumbling a curse in your native language you gathered the remaining vegetables and chicken breast. Chicken soup was better than nothing. 

You were in the middle of making another tea after dumping all the ingredients and seasoning in the slow pot cooker, when a knock on the door startled you.

Uhm, you were not expecting a visitor today or even ready to acknowledge the existence of your Aunt just yet. 

Yeah, you were not expecting him standing on your doorsteps again. You stepped back on the door after peeking through the peephole. This is for getting involved, you guess. 

The lock clicked and the door swung open. 

“Hi, neighbor. You must be c-confuse why I’m here again. I won’t take long of your time–”

As he explained his reason for his sudden visit you hear the annoying high pitch voice of the next door neighbor. You purposefully leaned out of the door frame and stared in their direction to announce your presence. Ticked off by the obnoxious one sided conversation the bitch is having with her mother, you started talking back. 

“I know hearing aids are a bit expensive but you better invest some of yourself a pair then maybe you’ll know the difference between inside voice to outside voice. Not that I care about your opinion though,” you clear your throat “I just don’t like hearing your whinny grating voice Susan.” 

Although Susan(not her real name) starts talking shit, her mom winces since she understood the sentiment, while you winced for a different reason. 

“That’s not nice,” he whispered. 

You looked up at your visitor, hand still covering your mouth as you cough. How long did you have to talk? It was irritating your throat. 

“I’m not nice,” you just set the stone further. 

He frowned, disappointed that didn’t shy away from his expression. 

“And not a liar,” you didn’t know why you added that. It kinda slipped out…for some reason. You sighed and held out your hand. 

Blue hair swayed to the side as he tilted his head displaying his confusion. God, your patience was already wearing thin when you could still hear the annoying neighbor’s voice now muffled by the confine of their house, the mom must have dragged her inside. 

“The *ehem umbrella. You said you’re here to return it.” Totally ignoring the other part of his speech. 

He looked even more disappointed when he unfolded both of his hands from his back, handing the umbrella to your waiting hand. 

A glimpse of the tupperware still in his other hand further confirmed the source of his disappointment. 

“How long will the muffins last?” 

And like a puppy finally getting his headpats he perked up. Still his enthusiasm had a pinch of confusion. 

“If you must know, these will last for five days if you keep it in this container,” then he showed you the tupperware. “Although the muffins taste the best when you eat it on the same day it’s baked. I was hoping you would like it freshly baked. W-why are you asking?” 

Unfolding your arms you point your throat. “Sore throat. Can’t eat sweets for a while.” 

“Oh, no. You got sick because you left your umbrella to me last night.” 

You waved off his concern. “It’s already sore from all the tequila shots from last night’s drinking. Along with my smoking habits,” you really wanted to end this conversation. 

The lanky blue haired neighbor on the other hand had something else on his mind as he pushed the tupperware in your arms. 

“I’ll be back,” he even gave you a reassuring smile

You watched him run towards his house, perplexed from what was that all about. What did you just get yourself into?

Not even a full hour until you heard knocking on the door again. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweater you slowly made your way towards the door. Before you open the door though you pull up the hood of your sweater enough to ease the chills on your nape. 

Your expression stays neutral as the guy greeted you with his signature buoyant smile, emphasising his buck teeth further. 

“Here, I made you a medicine for your throat,” he proceeded to show you a labelless bottle. “You just have to gargle fifteen millilitres of this for forty-five seconds. Make sure to time it right. Although this tastes more unpleasant than the regular oral antiseptic solution, it will soothe your sore throat in an instant.” 

This guy really talked a lot. You're just being polite listening to him till the end of his speech, but sometimes you wished he would make it short. And did you hear him right? He made it? Examining the labelless bottle, watching the orange liquid with concern. More concerned about the possible taste instead of the possibility of something horrible. 

“Thanks,” you cleared your throat again as you croaked. 

“You sound worse than before.” 

You just hummed this time. You’d been coughing a lot earlier, even nauseous since you are still recovering from getting stupidly drunk last night. 

“Have you eaten anything yet? Do you n-need help with anything else?” concern became dominant in his tone and he had this look like the two of you were already a long time friend. 

His sudden full blown concern didn’t settle well with you, even though you knew he was all good with his intentions you’re not used to genuinity. And you couldn’t berate him since you felt like sand had been poured in your throat. 

“Don’t bother. You’ve helped enough already,” you stepped back and held the door but you paused, having a second thought to just be a piece of shit as usual. “Thank you again, Rick,” you gently closed the door behind you but not without noticing the surprise, opening his eyes wider, looking comically wide awake than ever. 

The door clicked shut. 

…

Well, you survived. 

The medicine the neighbor gave you was indeed effective. The day after you were back to normal. Still the same indifferent bitch but cured of common sickness for a fragile peasant like you. 

As for the neighbor that helped you, only a few small things had changed. Like a simple nod from you when he waved in your direction. At first he looked utterly confused, eventually he seemed to accept that was the only form of greeting he would get from you.

You also received small packaged treats hanging on your door knob since you only get home twice a week because of a major project the studio got recently. 

Torn from this development you kept glancing on the cookies packed in a small plastic packaging secure with a baby blue ribbon. 

With a deep breath you let your back slumped on the backrest of the office chair. You raise your hand and reach for the anti-rad glasses your Aunt gifted you, and removed it. 

A groan prompted out of you when you stretched your back, arms extending, another tense muscles unravelled, before dropping your arms. 

Dull white ceiling encompassed your vision. You couldn’t wait for the project to reach its completion. Cramped up in the office for too long was making you sick.   

Curtains of brown hair and a pair of gentle brown eyes appeared on the edge of your vision, peering down at you. “Hey, wanna take a break?” 

“Not yet, T. Go take a break without me. I’m just stretching my back a bit.” 

His face moved out of your vision like he was pulled away. “Alright, but maybe you should stop teasing yourself with that cookie,” he left with a good natured chuckle on his trail. 

“Mind your damn business, T,” you grumbled feeling a bit annoyed. 

Silence ruled the small room, making your thoughts louder once you were alone again. 

Long deep breaths sucked the cold stale air through your nose, for a second you held your breath before slowly blowing it out through your mouth. You repeated the breathing exercise and stopped when lethargy was comfortably sitting on your shoulders. A push from your arms you pulled yourself upright and reached for the glasses beside the graphic tablet. As you pushed the glasses back your eyes it landed back on the cookies on the corner of your desk. 

The sound of the plastic crinkling disturbed the silence of the room. Up close you already had a feeling that the flavor of the cookies was another miss. 

It seemed like he made the whole thing a guessing game for the lack of feedback from your end. Might as well try it since everything he gave you so far was all good. 

Raisins

Soft chime of laughter rippled into the stagnant quiet room. 

…

“Soooo, are you gonna tell me why you asked for a drive to the grocery store?” pair of brown eyes peering suspiciously at you from the rearview mirror. 

“Please stay being my good friend, T.”

“First of all, I’m your only friend which instantly gives me the vacant spot for the best friend position. Second, you never cease to be creative, especially when you are avoiding something. Third, I am your best friend, not your complacent pleb,” he checked on you again through the rearview mirror. 

“Now I feel attacked.” 

“One of the privileges.”

“I’ll take it back then. This is an exploit.”

“Sorry no take backs. Nuh, uh. The pack is permanent and you sign it, Helen even witnessed the exchange of agreement. You shall face my wife’s wrathful curses if you stop respecting the pack. And it will be a very ugly affair,” he said with the voice he usually used when he was doing the impersonation of his wizard oc.  

“Oh, my, god! Stop it you nerd,” although you were shaking your head you were having a hard time holding your laughter from the fond memories. “Ok, ok, you got me. I suddenly crave a home cooked meal. Getting fed up with consecutive days of take out.”

This time you saw him looking sad, possibly missing his son and wife. “Yeah, me too. I miss Helen’s cooking and my pyjamas.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I want to sleep on an actual bed. I need my heavy pillow.”

T, makes a gagging sound. “You need a boyfriend, asap.”

“Can you not! The pillow is like the equivalent of a weight blanket.” 

“The need to have something heavy beside you, is an equivalent of unmet need for physical touch, buddy.” The car finally stopped. “You can’t stay living like a single goblin for life.”

“Bet.” 

“Oh, I’m telling this to Helen,” then he started doing his evil laugh. 

Head shook from hilarity but the giddy babbling in your guts kept stretching your lips into a tender smile. “Damn it, Thomas! Don’t ruin my goblin life fantasy.”

Chuckling as he tucked the stray strands of his long hair behind his ears, he finally exited the car. “No can do. Now come on. The goblin lord needs to do their shopping.”

…

Familiar smell of the savory seafood dish in your home country continued teasing your appetite. Sure you missed the place from time to time, paid a visit multiple times a year as much as possible. But that was before. Now all you could do was just reminisce about the old times. 

The egg almost slipped out of your hand while peeling the shell, getting lost in your head again. Your shoulders sagged, the sound of your huff was thick of nostalgia, homesick to the place that was never yours. 

You shook your head and redirected your emotion at bashing one of the eggs on the countertop harder than necessary. This time you pick up the pace of peeling the eggs for the toppings. 

Maybe it was time for another cigarette break. 

…

You swore the next door neighbor will be the death of you. You stepped out of the damn house just to smoke in peace, and next thing you were helping old poor Victoria pulled the dumb raccoon out of the gap in the wooden fence. 

While Susan screamed in the background. 

“Vicky. Ma’am for the sake of my eardrum, calm your daughter down,” you said, almost pleading with the older woman. 

Dumb raccoon and its fatass. You tried prying the wood so it could wiggle out of the gap but you forgot this furball doesn’t have the ability of the cat. And the only way to remove the helpless animal was to pull it out. 

You made sure the sleeves of your hoodie were down just in case the furball decides to get too feisty. It screeched louder when you pulled it bit by bit. When you unstuck half of its upper body you grabbed it by the nape. 

The raccoon kept fighting in your hold as you carried it towards the elder woman. 

“Throw it! Throw that ugly thing away!” Susan kept chanting. 

And being the shit you were, you swung the animal towards her. The woman screamed bloody murder while she scrambled away. 

“You shouldn’t keep feeding this fatass, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Vicky’s face sagged upon frowning. “I always wanted a pet. But you know my daughter’s husband. He didn’t like animals,” she said as she played with the hem of her blouse. 

You looked up in the sky and hoped you had enough patience remaining not to get involved. It hurt you that the old lady couldn’t enjoy doing what she loves because of some asshole’s opinion. Vicky was old and she deserved to live and enjoy what she wanted. 

“I’m sorry, Vicky.” 

“No, it’s ok. Thank you for helping me. You are right though. It got bigger,” chuckling Vicky took a last look at the raccoon, there was a sadness in her eyes as she smiled in resignation. 

“It’s fat for getting spoiled by a sweet old lady,” you said smiling back at her as you readjusted your hold on the animal. 

Vicky chuckles but it didn’t sound cheery per usual, waving goodbye at you on your way out of their lawn. 

On your way out though you saw another neighbor standing on the doorstep of the house. The whole interaction with Vicky already drained your social battery, added that there was still this fatass in your clutch you needed to take care off. 

Back facing you, his shoulders look wider from the lack of his usual white coat. So, he owned other clothes besides his usual get up. Kind of remind you of Thomas from the initial stage of getting to know the guy. 

“What do you want?” you asked in a tone firmer than earlier. 

His shoulder hitched, obviously startled from hearing you out of the house. 

“I’m just checking if you are ba–why do you have a raccoon?” he asked, pointing at the wriggling furball in your hold. 

“Tried being a food burglar next door. Fatty got stuck on the wrong gap of the fence.” 

“You helped Katrina?” 

What a waste of a good name for an awful person. 

“If you mean the screeching pig next door Susan, no. I helped Victoria.” 

That woman didn’t deserve her mother’s love. It kinda pissed you off that was why you never acknowledged the woman by the name her mother bestowed.

“Screeching pig? That’s not a nice thing to say. And her name is not Susan,” he said, reprimanding you again. 

“I’m not nice. And she does sound like a pig. Anyway, what are you doing here?” 

He followed you all the way to the backyard. Searching for something to temporarily contain the raccoon before bringing it to the nearest animal shelter later. 

“Aren’t you releasing the raccoon?”

You breathe through your nose before expelling the air through your mouth, so closed on snapping at the man. 

“Can’t. Not here.” your jaw clenches as the trash panda continues thrashing. “I’ll bring this fatass to the animal shelter or Victoria’s son in law will hunt this one,” too. 

But you can’t find anything of use. You doubt the box will keep the feisty thing contained. 

“I-I have a carrier if you want you can borrow it.” 

You look at him like he just told you the project in your work is magically done. “Yes, please. Because my fingers are starting to feel numb and this fucker is really, really heavy.” 

“Oh, ok. W-wait here.” Then he was running, long legs stretching into a wide stride. 

The raccoon squirmed again when you switched the hold to your left. 

“Sorry buddy but you have to be away here or you’ll be eating rat poison next time,” Victoria will definitely be devastated again if another animal stinks up dead somewhere in their yard. 

Soon, the lanky neighbor returned with the white carrier, just in time before the ache in your fingers became unbearable. He even helped get the feisty creature in the container. 

“Are you going now?” 

Huh, you almost forgot he was still here. Crouched in front of the faucet washing your hand, you remained quiet. 

Did he think he could meddle with your business just because he lent you the carrier? 

Shaking the water off your hand and waiting for it to dry you took another look at the raccoon. 

“Yeah, why?”

When your hands were less wet you proceeded to rub it on your pants. From the wooden bench adjacent to the wall laid the cigarette and lighter, you grabbed it and about to light one, but paused when the man with buck teeth spoke of the information that entirely slipped out of your mind. 

“Do you k-know where the nearest animal shelter is?” 

Dumb moments, eh, it's natural you got some of those. Although you knew an animal shelter, it was a bus ride away. 

Blowing a long string of smoke to your side away from the standing man near you, you notice him fidgeting, fingers tapping at his side. 

“No. Do you?” you asked even though you have an inkling he’ll start running his mouth again. 

“Oh, yes, I know. In fact it’s the same place where I brought Ms. Carrot—before. I’m still sad about that last visit but I don’t mind taking you there,” and indeed he looks sad, heartbroken even. 

If he fucking cried you swear you’d gonna lose it. 

“Hey, you don’t have to come if it brings back sad memories. Just give me the address and I’ll take it from here.” 

Conflict was obvious by the furrow right in the middle of his unibrow. Hesitation took form by the multiple times his lips parted, words just kept hanging right on the edge, unsaid. 

“It’s fine. Just tell me the address,” you pull out your phone and tap the notes. “I’m still going to drop by for the carrier afterwards.” you held your phone towards him. 

He stares at it for a moment then stares back at you. 

“I’m sorry but I only o-owned a landline phone,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. 

What? Did he just thought that–

Your other hand holding a cigarette moves toward your face, the heel of your palm digs into your eye, rubbing it. You couldn’t level with this guy anymore. 

“Type the address on the phone,” your jaw clench shut in an attempt to grind the insult you choose to keep to yourself. 

Shame colored his face flush of red and he scrambled to grab the phone to save a bit of his dignity. 

“I-I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to exchange numbers with me. N-not because of s-something else. Definitely not s-something else,” awkward chuckle shakes his hunched shoulders. “I’m not trying anything, I swear. J-just wanted to be friends,” he looked all tense as if he was already anticipating some backlash, from the way he moved with caution. 

You took the phone back as he gingerly held it out to you. And a quick apology stuttered out of him again before rushing out of the property.  

Guess you broke the dork without even the intention of doing so. He’s lucky you have a high tolerance for a guy like him.  

A friend, huh?

The cigarette butt scrunched under the force from getting pressed into the ashtray. You just noticed the stickers on the carrier now that you were staring at it with your full attention. 

“A carrot cake? How can vegetables turn into a cake?”

You asked the old woman smoking beside you. 

“That’s the magic of baking and cooking my little sweet tooth. You can make anything taste good if you know what you are doing.” 

Stretch of genuine smile pulled on the darken wrinkled lips of the blurry face looking down at you. Reminiscent from juvenile years slowly faded by the passing of time, yet you still latched on to the pieces of those memories like a lifeline. 

“Time for a walk, fatso,” you said pertaining to the raccoon circling inside the container. Off of the bench you grabbed the carrier and left after checking the location through a gps app.

…

Not expecting the whole 360 of your entire afternoon, you were now standing in front of Rick’s doorsteps, waiting for the door to open and be done with all the socializing for the day. 

The door creaked open, it stayed ajar for a bit before it slowly swung open. Rick greeted you with an awkward smile force on his lips, and before he could speak again you handed him the carrier. 

“Thank you for letting me use this, Rick. And, yes, the visit went well. The volunteers will release the trash panda into the wild tomorrow where it belongs. That’s all.” 

Not waiting for any response you turned around and left. Hungry and mentally drained, you just want to get back in the house. 

“Wait!”

Two steps more and you were out of the property but you were still compelled to stop, human curiosity you guess. You cocked your head urging him to speak. 

“I want to apologize for earlier, for assuming that–that you’re asking for my number. I got a bit carried away, got a bit confident–that we are some sort of friends now.” 

Huh, your brain was no longer braining because of the grumbling of your stomach. Besides the fact that you already got a lot going on in your brain and he just had to add himself in the chaos.

“Look, I’m not upset about it. But about the friend thing. I don’t know about that. Acquaintance, maybe?” you offered. 

“Oh. Yes, of course. Acquaintance. That made sense.” 

Disappointment was nothing new to you. But seeing it on someone with a genuine intention did sting. Especially when you knew he didn’t have a proper connection with people around him, you even heard from Vicky that the man has been alone ever since moving in the neighborhood, no family or relatives visiting, no significant other…nobody. 

“I better get going. Thank you again, Rick.” 

“Ok, goodbye–” The sound and the way he uttered your name was like the clutch from the sleeves, scared…desperate. 

Although you were used to jumping off the boat even before the boat barely sailed away from the shore, it didn’t mean it gets easier to swim. 

Each step still weighs heavily on your ankle. Another chain of shackles was added to the collection.  

Ugh, why do you keep getting involved with lonely people. 

[theghostpinesmusic]

Seeing as how I haven't done a music-related write-up for a bit and how it's currently 4:30pm and therefore too late in the day to start on another work-related project of actual substance...I'm going to tell you about this version of "Bathtub Gin" that I like!

As I said (threatened?) in my last Goose post, I'm consciously branching out a little between now and whenever the hell the next Goose show will be. In my own personal listening, "branching out" means I've been listening to a lot of stuff I've never heard before, both stuff that's totally new to me and stuff that's been sitting ignored on my "Try this!" list for a long time. In my blog writing, "branching out" apparently means "writing about the band I've listened to the most by an entire order of magnitude for the last twenty-five years."

Hey, if I can't be perfect I'm sure as hell going to stop trying.

I am not going to start this post with a primer on Phish because a) if you're reading this you either already know them or you don't know them and don't care, and b) there are literal books about this out there because these guys have been playing for forty years and every little thing they do is steeped in weird mythology and inside jokes and as much as I love all of it, I don't love it enough to write a hundred thousand words about it.

If you're somehow entirely new to the band and also feel an obsessive need to learn/dive in, my super idiosyncratic recommendation is to listen to their album A Live One a few times, and then buy and read through this very short book by Walter Holland, who in my humble opinion is sort of like the Hunter S. Thompson of writing about Phish jams.

I will henceforth only be writing in the micro- and macro-cosms about this particular version of Phish's "Bathtub Gin" and my reactions to it, despite not being the Hunter S. Thompson of writing about Phish jams.

Biologically speaking, I almost certainly, technically have THC in my bloodstream right now if that somehow makes you feel better.

So, Phish was one of the first places I turned at the beginning of this little Goose hiatus. For a lot of reasons, despite being the band that most immediately jumps to my mind when the phrase "favorite ever" is used in a variety of contexts, I haven't listened to Phish much over the last few years. I wrote a little bit about why in this previous post, and to keep my promise of staying focused and save myself some time typing, I won't say any more for the moment: suffice to say that I overdid it a little bit with The Phish and The Phish's Internet Fandom, which soured me on the band's music and left me sitting on the sidelines for years, wondering if it was the band that had come, over time, to suck ass, or whether it was just me.

Well, I'm relieved to report that it was, in fact, me who was doing the ass-sucking.

I learned this, in large part, by diving into the band's recent New Year's Eve (NYE) run at Madison Square Garden (MSG). I actually started my Goose Interregnum concert-viewing here only because the run had just ended and I'd seen online that the band had played all the way through its storied, elusive, and utterly dorky "Gamehendge" saga on 12/31, for the first time since 1994 (or maybe 1995, kill me in the comments Phish fans, I'm ready to die).

I wanted to see this, even if after the fact and from my couch, because back in my early Phish fan-Hood (see what I did there?) Gamehendge had been a big part of what drew me to the band, and I was excited by the prospect of being a grown-ass, middle-aged man bawling his eyes out on his basement couch because in a video another old man was on a stage singing a song about a bulldog and a cat fighting to the death while a comet crashed into Earth, bringing about the end times.

When you're a straight, white kid growing up in suburbia, you either become an absolute monster or your brain finds really fucking weird things to care a lot about. I like to think I fit into the second category.

Anyway, with a more-than-usual amount of spare time on my hands, I decided to try watching the entire MSG NYE run, starting with 12/28 instead of jumping straight to 12/31. I thought, maybe, I'd have a decently fun time and get a good sense of where Phish was at musically (an important thing to know when all the band members are sixty-ish years in age and you haven't heard or seen them play since 2021). Then I watched 12/28 and it destroyed me. Like, this band of aging dork-rockers literally lit the entire arena on fire with their instruments and it burned down around them while they just kept jamming. I'm not sure how anyone escaped MSG alive, let alone how there were concerts there for the next three nights.

12/29 was just as good, if not better, and 12/30 was an incredible show that only paled in comparison to the previous two. My reaction surprised me, and so that's why I cranked up the ol' typing machine, shoveled some fresh coal into the boiler, and sat down to write about...wait, what was I actually writing about, again?

Oh, yeah. "Bathtub Gin."

I'm not gonna give you a lengthy history of this song, for all the same reasons I cited above for not giving you a long history of Phish as a band. I will tell you it's a "classic" Phish song in that it was played live for the first time in 1989 and has been played three hundred and four more times in the one thousand, seven-hundred and fifty-one shows the band has played since. There also a studio recording of it on Lawn Boy, which I always forget because who the fuck listens to Lawn Boy?! The song is used frequently, but not always, as a jam vehicle, and I tend to enjoy hearing it live due to its quintessentially Phish-y sound: Phish writes and plays songs that sound a lot like many of their influences, but they also have songs that sound only like Phish, and this is one of them. Well, it sounds like Phish and Gerswhin, I suppose. "Bathtub Gin" is also my wife's favorite Phish song, but I'm not entirely sure if that's because she likes it or because she knows that liking "Waste" or "Shade" or "Farmhouse" more would put her firmly in the "Stereotypical Phish Wife" realm.

This 12/28 version of the tune is a great one for jamming, but as usual I'll (mostly) refrain from commenting until the point in the video where the composed portion of the song leaves off and the improvisation begins.

I do want to start by saying I love the retro feel of this year's "Live Phish" intro/logo sequence. Also, yes, Page's opening keyboard banging is supposed to sound like that. It's how he lets you know he's having fun! Gershwin tease at 2:26 if you're keeping track. Otherwise, this is a pretty straightforward reading of the composed part of the song. I absolutely love the sound mix here, as you can hear all four members' contributions to the song more or less equally. It blows the old days of tapes essentially mixed to make Trey's guitar 80% of the band's sound out of the water. It also leads to me basically just listening to Mike Gordon play bass for the entire show because if you can, why wouldn't you?!

It often sounds like the band might be singing actual, English lyrics during the outro portion of the song, but I don't think they ever are.

The jam starts at 4:50, and basically immediately Fishman is playing stuff on the drums that my simple brain can barely comprehend. This is perhaps one significant difference between Phish and the Goose jams I've been covering previously: the rhythm section of Phish is much more directly involved in the direction of the band's improvisation, whereas it often feels like the drums and bass of Goose are just laying a foundation for the melody players to improvise over. One is not inherently better than the other, but I do often feel like there's a lot more to listen to with Phish, despite them having fewer members.

Anyway, this first chunk of the jam feels a lot to me like being lost in a fuzzy, pleasant labyrinth: the tempo is slow and the playing is soft, but there's an undercurrent of tension there. By 5:30, things have started to straighten out a little, though the lights have gotten absolutely weird. Fishman starts playing a more straightforward beat, and the rest of the band falls into a rock-sounding jam that makes me think of what Goose might sound like if their fingers were thirty years older.

Trey starts to sit back a little bit at 6:45, and the jam mellows out in response. It feels a little bit like he can't figure out where he wants to go next here, but Mike and Page take some turns adding ideas to the mix in the meantime. Eventually, Trey joins back in the fun, but still in a restrained way. For awhile here, everyone's just sort of playing together, with no particular standout or soloist, which is great.

Whatever keyboard tone Page switches to at 8:58 is fantastic. He follows it up pretty quickly with some weirder synthesizer stuff, and at 9:40 this pushes the jam in a more sinister direction. At 10:20, Trey switches over to a very Portal To Robot Hell guitar effect, and now we're in full-on latter-day Evil Phish jamming territory. Fishman is, of course, keeping a beat here, but it's odd and off-kilter (not a drummer, sorry to be imprecise) and makes the whole thing feel like it's just barely hanging together in the best way.

This kind of "almost-falling-apart" sound is, paradoxically, when Phish often hits their stride in jamming. I think it's what makes them sort of a love/hate proposition even among people who listen to a lot of improvisatory rock music. It's not particularly fun or comfortable, but I've never come across another group of musicians that can improvise with each other consistently in this way.

Trey's playing finally comes a bit to the fore starting at 13:00, but even here this doesn't feel like a rote jam "peak": instead, the backbeat that Fishman is playing keeps things feeling a little out of sorts and not entirely resolved. Trey and Page playing off of each other at 14:15 is nice. I'm not sure what's going on with the lights at 14:30, but I do know these guys consistently have my favorite light show in show business. There's some almost Allman Bros-sounding playing from Trey at 15:15 as we reaching peak craziness...

...then some initial teasing of the "Bathtub Gin" theme at 16:30 or so, teasing a return to the song proper to wrap things up!

The video fades out on a segue into what would turn out to be an excellent version of "Ghost," for those keeping score at home.

Anyway, thanks for reading my first (at least lately) Phish write-up. I'm going to try to do a few more of these from the run, including (I think) two new songs: "Oblivion" from 12/29 and "Life Saving Gun" from 12/30. Should have those up soon!

[yandere-daze]

HIII!! OMG i just want to say that U R SO TALENTED AT WRITING 🤩🤩🤩!!! like i found ur acc when i read the "ritsu comforting s/o because they didn't get his 5*" back then and WHEN I TELL U IT MADE ME <(///UWU///)> then yesterday was leo's bday and i didn't get him at all T _ T it suddenly reminded me of ur work and tried to find u and when i scrolled past the same scenario but with tsukasa ... I JUST TEARED UP AT HOW SWEET TSUKASA IS TOWARDS HIS S/O- I JUST WANT TO SQUISH HIS CHEEKS 👌👌😤❤ that said, it made me wondered if ur requests are open and it is!! hopefully... if not u can ignore this request 🙇‍♀️ but if it is, can i request something similar to that scenario but with leo? TYSM!! 🥺💕

AHHHHH first of all thank you so much for all of the compliments it really made my night and like dnsjkbdfkBD YOU´RE SO SWEET 😭 😭 💕 Like literally this might have been one of the loveliest comments I have ever gotten and it make me so giddy and ahhh absbsb

And of course you may request! I feel at this point there´s going to be a post like this for every enstars character but I don´t mind, they´re fun to write fajlbfal I also did one pull for Leo but didn´t get him either :/

Leo comforting his s/o that didn´t get his 5 star card

The scene of the crime: The music room

The victim´s condition : critical

Cause of almost-death : a broken heart

You could practically feel your eyes welling up with tears as you sat in the corner with your phone in hand, your heart broken and all of your dias spent.

You played ensemble stars pretty casually to support some of your friends there and pull for their cards. You were having plenty of fun, until this one fateful day.

When you woke up and checked the game to see if there was anything new, you were greeted with the announcement that your boyfriend was going to get his own 5 star gacha card. Of course upon seeing that you made it your own personal mission to bring him home, I mean how could you not want to? You had saved up a pretty big stack of dias because you rarely ever used them so surely that should be enough to bring Leo home, right?

Right?

Well evidently it was not enough and you felt crushed. You had done so many pulls but you just couldn't get the card. You heard a quiet sob escape your mouth and you quickly tried to surpress it but it was already too late

Leo had been sitting on the floor right across from you as he was excitedly scribbling music notes and lyrics all over the floor. It seems like he had once again ran out of paper. He had seemed so utterly focused on his own work that it surprised you to see him immediately lift his head when he heard the sob escape your mouth

The excited smile on his face quickly faded when he saw how distraught you looked, he nearly felt his own heart break as well to see you so sad.

Dropping his pen, Leo jumped up from where he was sitting and ran straight towards you with his arms outstretched before laying his head on your lap while tightly wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug

"Waaaah y/n what's wrong, what's wrong?! Are you crying? You can't be! Please don't be sad!! I'm a genius composer but I still need my muse to write my masterpieces!! I can't do it without you wahhh!"

Leo affectionately rubs his cheek against you as he clings onto you even tighter then before, refusing to let go of you as long as he still drew breath. You looked sad so he was just being a good boyfriend, okay? Giving you lots and lots of affection seemed like the ideal way to comfort you in his eyes. If he just showered you in his love you would be fine! He does want to know what's made you so sad tho so he can properly help you. And when you tell him what happened, a bit embarrassed, he quickly clutches your phone in his own hands and starts yelling at it

"You stupid game, how dare you make my soulmate so sad?! My one and only love and inspiration!! The god's from the heavens above will smite you down for interfering with my composing like that, just you watch wahahah!! You will regret the day you messed with y/n! "

You couldn't help but smile a bit from how angry Leo seemed to be at your phone. He most likely realized that your phone had in fact not decided to conspire against you, he was very intelligent in his own way after all. Rather he was purposefully trying to cheer you up with his rant, a task in which he expertly succeeded in

Trying to draw his attention, you gently combed your fingers through his hair which made him shift his attention back to you. A brilliant grin stretched across his face when he saw your little smile directed at him

"Ahh you stopped crying y/n! Don't you worry, your knight will protect you from the clutches of this evil device wahaha! This is just an alien trying to trick you by impersonating me but I would never fall for a trick like that! See, see you have the real deal right in front of you, isn't that great? "

You felt inclined to agree, happy that your boyfriend was trying his best to comfort you even though he had looked so focused on composing before. Thinking about it now, you felt a little guilty about stopping his creative process for something that was admittedly rather silly looking back on it

As if he had read your mind, Leo hesitantly got up to snatch one of the many papers scattered across the floor before hurrying back to lay on your lap once more

"I know just what will cheer you up, look and marvel at my masterpiece! The gods of music have once again blessed me with their vision, this is one of the greatest ones yet! I wrote this one just for you, so listen closely so you don't miss anything!!"

After that, Leo started singing loudly, his voice echoing inside the walls of the music room as he essentially serenaded you. Listening to his words, you found that he had indeed written the song for you. It was all about how much he loved and appreciated you, how you were his sparkling muse that brought him joy to no end. How he wanted to always wake up next to you and give you (many) good-night kisses whenever you went to bed

He was looking directly into your eyes while he was singing and when he finished he pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, savoring the moment. Because no matter how long you two have been together, he still feels a spark within him whenever he looked at you and he would be forever there for you when you needed him

[tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar]

Pass the Time

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader.

Summary: You feel like you spend more time outside of you dorm and so does your neighbor. Why? Both of your roommates are hooking up.

Word Count: 1,548.

Note: It took me longer than it should've to write this since Tumblr was keep messing up so please don't let this flop ( I reached my breaking point with trying but I still like it) and tell me what you think :) I hope you love it! Thank you @snkkat for posting the photo and inspiring me to write this!

Hey," your roommate, Jazmyn, speaks softly from her side of the dorm to see if you are still awake or not. You hum in response, not looking away from the episode of your newest favorite Netflix original TV show- the reason why you are not studying right now- Outer Banks. Jazmyn moves to sit upright on her bunk bed and swings her feet back and forth and gives you puppy eyes, "Can I ask for a favor?"

Knowing what she will ask, for not the first nor late time, you say, "I'm not moving, Jaz."

She jumps off and walks over to you and must go on her tippy toes to learn against your mattress. It is a fail on her part when she tries to grab your throw blanket off of you since you're wrapped in it.

You sing, "told y'all" in a teasing tone and Jaz response is a weak, "shut up."

"Why can't you just go over? I'm comfortable right here in my dorm."

Ignoring your point of view, she easily lies as she says, "I swear it won't be long."

"Really? Two nights ago, Andrew said the same thing to Drew before you went over there for three fucking hours!" Before she can try to deny it, you hold up your hand to add, "I actually mean fucking for three hours."

You roll your eyes as she blushes and gets lost in dream land that is made of all the sex, she and your next-door dorm neighbor, Andrew, have.

Which is a lot.

You knew that going to a University there would be a huge chance to live crazy college stories that one day will blow your kids' minds whenever they accidentally find one out. Getting locked out of your dorm on a weekly basis so your roommate can hookup? That is not one of them, it is annoying as hell.

The first time you got locked out was just last month, three months in your freshman year. After taking two tests in one day, you just wanted to go in a nap coma for the rest of the year. Since the elevator in your building did not get fixed yet, you had to drag yourself up to the firth floor. You could not help to wish the sock on your dorm knob was just a part of your imagination. But it was not. From the noises you could hear from the other side of the locked door, Jazmyn had someone over. You jumped and cursed when the door next to you opened and an extremely attractive and tired boy smiled at you as he tried to fix his bed hair. He noticed the sock and grabbed it to throw it over his shoulder, inside of his dorm. "I was wondering where Andrew went." He holds out his hand and as you shake hands, he told you his name and you told him yours. You agreed that you did need coffee, so you two left the hallway to grab some.

“You know, it’s weird that we are finally meeting.”

You looked over your shoulder and silently wished Jazmyn would open the door so could lay down, “We’ll probably see each other more in the hallway if they keep this up.”

A week after you talked with Drew over two refills of coffee for who knows how many hours, he saw you walking up the stairs after your last class of the day. He kicked himself off the floor to learn against your door.

"Are they...?"

He nodded in response and told you that he does not know how long, or how much longer. He followed you into your dorm after you slightly pushed him away to unlock it.

"I was planning on doing something with Jaz tonight but since you're here instead... have you ever done a face mask?"

He wiggled his eyebrows and used a husky manly tone to ask, “Sexually?"

His laugh echoed after you throw one of your pillows at him.

The third time was a couple of hours later and Drew agreed to go as far away as possible. You two went through a drive through before going to a park to eat in comfortable silence until he tried to be sneaky to grab some of your food. A small food happened before you two acted like big children on the swings, trying to see who could go up the highest. Since he is so tall, it was easy for him to do the monkey bars.

Now what was supposed to be a relaxing and do-nothing day, you let out a fake cough. “You can’t let Andrew come in here, I’m sick.”

“I’m sure Drew would be willing to take care of you.”

“I hate you.” You mutter as you get up to put your shoes on. You try not to think about how he told you he wants to make you his famous homemade chicken casserole soon since you’re been stressed with all of your school work, working part time and being home sick.

“You love me! Have fun whenever you guys do this time to pass the time.” She winks at you as you slam the door closed behind you. You stop knocking on Drew’s door with your blanket still wrapped around you and carrying your laptop when his voice comes the end of the hall, “fancy seeing you here.”

He knows your smile is half fake so he nervously asks, "You can come over if you want? I can let you in before heading to the showers."

 Andrew comes from the end of the hall, looking like he ran up the stairs while holding a plastic bag from the nearest gas station. You can see Jazmyn’s favorite candy and a box of condoms. Classy. You do not think twice before reaching into Drews maroon gym shorts to grab his keys while they have silent conversation. You miss how much his eyes widen for leaving them both in the hallway.

“I swear to God I’ll give up on being your wingman and move out if you do not make your move.”

Drew pushes Andrew out of the doorway and glances over at you to make sure you are not listening. “You are not my wingman!”

“Yes, I am! I am giving you two alone time as I have sex! It’s a win-win for everyone!” Andrew pushes him inside, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

From his bed, Drew hears the confusing in your voice when you say, “it’s only one am?”

“I stopped listening to what he says a long time ago.” Drew states as he can hear Andrew’s and his own voice in head saying, “she’s on your bed” repeating.

You mutter, “same” for trying to do the same thing with Jazmyn.

Over the trim of your laptop, you watch Drew stand in front of you and starts taking off his gray and black long sleeve hoodie in slow motion.

"Oh my god."

"What?" He asks, amused.

"What?" You ask, embarrassed.

“Take a picture, it would last longer.” He teases, sitting next to you. You shove your elbow in his ribcage, “Shut up!”

You should not be surprised when he teases, “make me.” But your skin gets covered with goosebumps.

“Okay, last time we hangout it was two, three nights ago?” You try to change the topic, “I just remember that I beat your ass at Family Feud. Wanna play that again?"

Drew lets out a breathless, “no” as he puts both of his arms around you, his hands resting against the wall. “Let’s play a new game.”

He grins ear to ear when he feels you take a big breath in, the air faming the side of his face. “Let’s see who can the be the loudest, them or us.”

You look at him like he grew a second head when he starts hitting the wall and making grunt noises.

“You want to make it seem like we are having fake sex?”

He laughs, mostly to himself, “It’s not like you are taking me out of my misery and-“

You cut him off by pulling his hands off the wall to put them on both sides of your waist as you to help you saddle his lap. As you trace the outline of his abs, you cannot help to lick the rest the way up until he puts one of his hands under your chin to pull your face upwards to his. Both of you do not know who kisses who first.

When you need to catch a breath, you mutter, “what?” since his smile makes you smile too. “I want to take you on a date and stop using our roommate sex lives as an excuse to hangout.”

“Okay.” You feel like you are on cloud nine when his smile becomes even bigger. “When?”

“We got time to figure that out. For now…” He gives you a quick kiss before setting you to lay on the bed so he can get up.

You watch him grab a sock before opening the door wide enough to put it on the doorknob. “I want to keep on doing what you started.”

He runs his way back to his bed to tackle you while you have your arms wide open.

─────

Tagging the people who reblogged or comment on the post about which college AU to write first:

@ilovejjmaybank @softstarkey @pixelated-pogues @everydayimfangirling @maaybanks @scandalousfemale @thelocalpogue @sunnypogue @sortagaysortahigh @tembo-ndoto @arthiriticcricket @jjsbxtch @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @rudysrings @ptersparkers @obx-saltlife @ssjiara @drewsephsmiles @obbx-tings @jjmaybanksbaby @jjaybank @mahleeyuh @jjcultmain @tcmhollnd @teamnick 

The college AU for Rudy will hopefully be posted tomorrow!

[lovelywingsart]

Turning Cogs

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/Her) --

Remember 'Apologies'? Well, this is more or less a type of 'follow-up'! Over 20 years later. I may also make a small timeline, or an explanation post about it, but anyway-

This was also a cute fun one, and my favorite right next to 'Chase'. I just... I love cute things for them... I need more cute things for them. It makes me feel a little better.

Please, please don't hate me for what's coming next. (That is, IF I choose to post it immediately after this... I may wait a bit until another story or two is up...)

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3 **

-----

*Warning?: Cute sappy shit, read at your own risk eue

Summary: A 'task' given years ago leads to a small solution near the end of the line. Emmy has a gift! But what is it? What significance will it hold? Alot more than she thinks, that's for sure!

The factory ran smoothly, production went on as usual, and the hope of freedom permeated the air as the date of the 'revolution' drew near. A few days... It was only a few days. Supposedly, at least. Emelia found herself simply wandering the factory at times, much like Heisenberg himself. Sure, she worked, but it often helped ease her mind of the now constant nervous jitters she found herself experiencing. But she now currently walked with a purpose, making her way to the notorious metal man with an eager hop in her step.

As she wandered the halls, she mused to herself how great all of this had become. The factory, the creations, even the small 'bond' she shared with the man who ran it all. It wasn't much of one, she thought, but recently it had become almost... like a dream. Like an odd, welcoming dream after their talk some weeks ago. He tried... He actually did try, she noticed. After so many years, she had come know the man very well, and the small changes he had made in just a few weeks time were highly evident. She enjoyed them... Thoroughly, at that. He didn't even change himself, and it wasn't a forced change. It was... Natural.

As if the changes were being held back for years.

She found herself smiling more with him. Smiling and genuinely enjoying herself, even laughing at times when they were alone. Even the mechanical menaces didn't prove to be much of an issue lately... Even as she wandered past, the creatures simply ignored her. Sure, she was still somewhat worried about the upcoming events, but she found it easier to keep her mind off of them and relax when he was around. It was wonderful, really.

She made her way to the upper levels after a while with just the smallest bit of excitement. A small jingling in her pocket could be heard as she jogged to the elevator that boosted that feeling, and she couldn't help but smile again. She knew what the sound was... She had been thinking about the small items for years. Literal years. She kept them with her at times ever since he had given her the task well over 20 years ago, and they hadn't left her mind since. Only recently had she finally had an idea for them, and while she had initially considered it a little dumb, it was the only thing she could think of. She just hoped he would agree.

She stepped off the elevator as it creaked to a stop, making her way through more doors and halls until she finally made it to a gold and copper encased door with the 'family' crest in the middle. She paused before opening the door, running her hand along the impression of the stallion that adorned the crest. She had to admit, she had grown fond of it over the years... Knowing that it was coming to a glorious 'end' only filled her with more eagerness as she pressed her palm to the horses nose and opened the door. She was met with an echoing, deep hum of a quiet song. It was one that she recognized, and she couldn't help but join the hum as she rounded the corner. The other hum paused for only a moment, followed by a light chuckle before it continued, now with quiet words.

As she finally reached the personal workshop, she was met with Heisenberg slightly hunched over his work table, a pencil in his hands and small metal objects 'dancing' around him lazily as he sung their tune. Despite the small scraps, he was relatively calm, tilting his head as she approached. His singing only stopped with a chuckle as she casually wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her face to the back of his neck. It was a common gesture going both ways, and she felt a scarred hand reached to hold her arm.

"Hello there." He mused, turning his head slightly.

"Why did you stop singing?" Emelia asked, being met with a chuckle.

"Because you're in the room now."

"Would you like me to leave then?"

"No, I think prefer you right here." Heisenberg chuckled, finally turning in her arms to face her. He simply leaned back against the table, wrapping one arm around her waist while using the other to direct the scraps to float around them. "Is there something you needed?"

She watched the scraps flutter as if they were moths, tilting her head slightly.

"I came to tell you something. Or... 'give', rather." She said simply, her eye moving to meet his as she leaned against him. He raised a brow in interest.

"Oh?" He said, pausing his hand movements for a moment. "And what could you possibly have to give me?"

She couldn't help but give a small smile, carefully taking a step back, careful not to hit one of the scraps.

"Do you remember that... 'task' years ago? With the defect cogs?"

He watched her for a moment, light confusion entering his features. The cogs... Cogs?? Wait, those cogs??? She couldn't have POSSIBLY meant THOSE cogs. He vaguely remembered the situation, and his nose scrunched.

"Emmy, that was... That was how long ago??" He said, crossing his arms slightly.

"A few years..."

"A few??"

"Ok, more than a few. But that's besides the point." She shook her head reaching into her pocket almost hesitantly. "I believe I found something for them..."

Heisenbergs brows raised in legitimate surprise.

"You what???" He asked, slowly lowering the scraps to the floor as Emelia took hold of something In her pocket. He shook his head. "There... You couldn't have. That task was a joke. A test to see what you would do under stress."

"Well, I didn't take it as one." She shrugged. "You're a sneaky twit, Heisenberg. I wasn't going to let an obvious trick sway me."

"It seemed to 'sway' you back then." He smirked lightly, nearly laughing at the sudden redness that entered her cheeks as vivid memories played in her mind. She rolled her eye and pulled her hand out, her fist curled around something.

"'Tricks' aside, I never stopped thinking about it, and I've finally thought of something." She said, ignoring the knowing chuckle he gave. She cleared her throat slightly, looking at her hand. "Just... promise you won't laugh."

"Why would I ever laugh at you, Emelia?" He mused, only to chuckle again and hold up his arms as she glared at him. "Alright, alright, I'm done. What did you think of?"

"Well..." she started, taking a breath. "I was looking at them, and the holes went all the way through to the other sides, and had some other small ones. They were pretty useless for most things I could come up with, but..."

She opened her hand, letting something fall and clink together- hanging from her fingers were the cogs, each carefully welded to three smaller cogs and wrapped with thin, copper wire, with a thick, black string through the main defective holes. Each main cog held a small bit of red stone in the middle, adding a small bit of color to the otherwise metallic items. She brought them slightly closer to her chest, a deeper blush forming on her face as she watched Heisenbergs eyes widen with simultaneous surprise and interest. Emelia cleared her throat slightly.

"I, um... I'm not the best or most creative, I suppose... and I had the string Donna gifted me, with some of the glass pieces from the Reservoir... I found the wire pieces around here..." she managed, looking at the small necklaces. "It's... It's not much..."

She fell silent for a moment, looking up at the man in front of her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face held a strange mixture of emotion as he held out a hand, beckoning her forward. She held out the hand with the necklaces as she moved, swallowing hard as his fingers gingerly went behind one of the pieces and brought it forward to inspect it.

"... You actually made these?" He asked. She nodded.

"Just some minor welding and scrap melts for the smaller ones..." she replied quietly, watching as his eyes seemed to inspect every small detail. She then frowned slightly. "I... I-I'm sorry, it's... They're stupid-"

"No, no... Not stupid..." he said quietly, now holding both. Each of the smaller cogs were made of different mixed materials, providing an interesting effect once they hit the light. "They're... Impressive."

She perked up slightly.

"Really...?"

He nodded.

"Why are there two?" He asked, glancing up at her with interest. She worked her jaw slightly.

"I... I thought maybe... um..." she tried, avoiding his gaze. "I thought... perhaps... we could each have one... maybe?" She managed, her voice quiet.

There was silence for a few moments, and she could feel his gaze as he fully looked at her. It wasn't until he chuckled that she looked at him, surprised to see a grin on his face.

"Brilliant idea, Emmy." He said, trailing one of the strings up to where her hand held them to carefully remove one from her grip. She stared at him.

"... Really?"

"Sure!" He chuckled, bringing the one he held close to his face to look over it once more. "May I ask what the inspiration was?"

"I... didn't really have one..." she replied, only to go rigid as he reached forward and took hold of her arm to pull her closer.

"Hm." He gave a hum, looking at her once more. "I'd say your pretty creative, Emmy, not even I could think of this."

"It only took me 20 years..." she managed to joke, tilting her head as he held the string open on the necklace he held. "What are you doing-"

She stopped as he reached forward, her face heating up as he simply rested the necklace around her own neck. She looked down as his hands traced the string, caressing the small gears before resting it against her chest.

"I think it suits you." Heisenberg chuckled, holding his hands to the side as if he had achieved something grand with slipping it on. Emelia couldn't help but give a light snort, keeping her eye on it.

"I suppose so..." she replied simply, her eye moving to the one she still held. She was quiet for a moment before taking a breath, doing the same with the second necklace.

She turned it and held it up to his head, opening the string. He was still as she managed to slip it around his own neck, nearly chuckling with amusement as she watched it rest against the necklaces he already wore. She took her hands away, tilting her head as she looked at it. It didn't look TOO odd against the other items...

"Suits you, too..." she said quietly, her hands resting along his chest. He nearly laughed.

"Well congratulations, your task is complete. I'll be damned." He snorted, finally setting his hands on her hips. "Good work."

"You're just saying that..." she chuckled, looking up at him. He shrugged.

"I mean it." He suddenly gave a genuine smile. One she could see in his eyes, and it made her breath catch in her throat. "Thank you, Emelia."

She couldn't help but return the smile, slowly wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. He returned the action, his arms surrounding her waist as he pressed his face to her shoulder.

"You're an odd one, Emmy." He nearly whispered.

She could feel his smile against her skin as she chuckled, resting her chin on his own shoulder.

"So are you, Heisenberg." She replied. "You're the oddest one of them all."

"Ah, I beg to differ." He chuckled, using his hand to raise the small scraps from before into the air again, twirling his finger slightly to make them circle the two slowly. Emelia kept her smile, turning her head to bury her face into his neck.

"Beg then, Metalhead."

"Hm." He hummed, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. "I think I will."

She lifted her head to question, only to let out a surprised yelp as he suddenly hoisted her over his shoulder.

"Karl!!!"

"Aht aht, no fighting!" He chimed, amused as she started to squirm before he began walking to the side door of the workshop. She only stopped squirming momentarily with a surprised laugh as he pinched her side.

"The bloody hell are you doing?!" She tried, unable to hide her own amusement as he kicked open the door and went down the small hall leading to the 'living quarters'.

"Guess this really does make you the 'lady' of the factory then, yeah?" He joked. She squirmed again, earning another pinch.

"Call- HEY- C-Call me a 'lady' again and see what happens...!!" She laughed, only to nearly stumble back as he suddenly heaved her down, holding into him to keep her balance. She was met with a quick kiss, keeping the smile on her face.

"Fine then, the 'wench' of the factory." He joked, letting out his own laugh as she smacked his shoulder.

"That's even worse you twit!"

"Ah, no need for that, Emmy!"

He nudged her forward, giving another quick kiss before she nearly fell over as the edge of the bed hit the back of her legs.

"Are you mad?!" She laughed, nearly falling back as he nudged her again. Instead she just flopped back, holding out her arms for him as he crawled over her with a chuckle.

"I was planning on taking a break anyway." He replied simply before falling to his side next to her. She chuckled as his arms suddenly went around her, bringing her tightly to his chest.

"I still have work to do!" She argued, though didn't actively try to get away. Instead, she cuddled to his chest as he snorted.

"Doesn't seem like you're all too concerned about it, Doll."

"Maybe because you're warmer than the Foundry."

"I'll take that at a compliment."

"As you should."

She couldn't help but relax in his arms, her gaze drifting to the gear necklace around his neck. It made her feel... proud. Proud and another feeling she couldn't quite pin down. She reached up and caressed it lightly, feeling as he looked down.

"You really like them...?" She asked quietly, only to jump as he cupped her chin and had her look at him.

"I love them." He replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Stay here for a while, we'll get back to work soon."

She was silent with a smile, nodding and nuzzling under his chin carefully before wrapping her own arm around him.

"Fine... I get to decide the next break time, then." She said. He chuckled.

"It's a deal."

[catrasredemption-moved]

Catra's season 4 outfit gives me Shadow Weaver vibes - her right arm is covered while the left one is not. Just like SW has her poncho thingy wrapped only around her right arm. I don't know maybe I'm reaching but if she is trying to become some evil tyrant, she is probably emulating The evil she knows. What do you think?

Oh season 4 Catra is all kinds of vibing with Shadow Weaver. I actually have a lot to say about this that plays in with my “Catra isn’t a pretty abuse victim” meta, so buckle up lol.

Let’s start with a quote from Shadow Weaver:

“You remind me of myself. You always have.”

Yes, I know she was trying to manipulate Catra and try to show that they’re similar and Catra should help her, but that doesn’t automatically make it a lie. Catra is a lot like Shadow Weaver from her Light Spinner days - she wanted more power, she wanted to challenge the Horde, and no one would listen to her. Catra’s often in the same position of being overlooked or ignored, partially by Shadow Weaver’s doing, but it’s implied that people in the Horde don’t really think much of Catra until she becomes Force Captain, something she’d resigned herself to because of Adora.

Shadow Weaver seeing herself in Catra would also explain a lot about her treatment of Catra. Because she knows what lengths she went to for power, and Catra is fully capable of doing the same. How do you stop someone from seeking power? You put them down, you force them into situations they can’t win (like competing with Adora), you demean them, you make sure they never think they can accomplish anything. And Shadow Weaver did a damn good job at that until Hordak put the badge in Catra’s hand.

And just like Shadow Weaver, Catra eventually hits rock bottom. The fact that this is also because of Shadow Weaver is being put aside for now. Catra reaches a point where she has nothing left to lose, pushing her into her own position of “do this thing that’s dangerous and literally no one wants you to do” - pulling the lever.

Again, parallels here. Catra was disfigured in the portal, Shadow Weaver was disfigured using the spell of obtainment. Catra’s wasn’t permanent, thankfully, but she still covers up the reminder with the sleeve on her arm, just like Shadow Weaver covers herself to hide what the spell of obtainment did to her. Which is the answer to what you actually asked, but I’m going to keep going, if you don’t mind.

Catra definitely displays some very Shadow Weaver-esque behavior in season four,very much following the example of evil that she’s seen, with the yelling and verbal abuse at someone who sees her as an important figure in her life (Shadow Weaver was a parental figure to Catra, Catra was a best friend to Scorpia, in Scorpia’s mind), but I think the lowest point for Catra is when she literally repeats Shadow Weaver’s behavior, right down to her words, when she���s yelling at Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio 4x12:

“Get out!”

Yes, I know they’re common words, but the context of the scene is what, to me, parallels it with Shadow Weaver yelling at Adora and Catra in Promises. Catra’s backed up into the shadows, literally shrouded in darkness, yelling at people who at the very least used to be her squadmates (I believe Kyle thinks they were friends, but the reality of that statement is debatable), and threatening them. It seems oddly similar to the scene in Promises, doesn’t it? Catra’s finally risen to power, just like Shadow Weaver did. But she’s not happy. Because unlike Shadow Weaver, power was never what she wanted. But Shadow Weaver put the idea in her head, just like she gaslighted Adora in 1x01: “Is this not what you've wanted since you were old enough to want anything?” But Catra’s happiness is a discussion for another time.

Shadow Weaver basically built a perfect cycle of abuse with Catra - she abused Catra, who then went on to emulate her abuser by repeating all her actions and mistakes. Left unchecked, Catra probably would have just spiraled further down that hole of misery.

But Catra breaks the cycle. She makes a conscious choice to do “one good thing” in her life, with every intention of dying on Horde Prime’s ship. And when she doesn’t die, she actively works on being a better person. Which does not go unnoticed by Shadow Weaver, who tries to pull Catra back down to her level:

“At least you admit she’s evil.” “You’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

But Catra has Adora to hold her back now, to keep her grounded. And Shadow Weaver is alone in her little abuse circle. The girls she raised have teamed up and turned on her, there’s no place for her in the Rebellion, no place in the Horde, no place in Etheria.

Which leads us to Shadow Weaver sacrificing herself. Actually, rewind back to her arguing with Catra in the Whispering Woods and basically repeating the Glimmer/Catra scene on Prime’s ship:

“Do something good with [magic] for once and help me save Adora before it’s too late!”

And Shadow Weaver actually listens. Sure, this is her chance to go out as “a hero”, but her presence there at all is because of Catra. If Shadow Weaver had her way, she’d have been getting wine drunk back at the rebellion cave. But Catra dragged her out, Catra backed her into a corner, and Catra made her do something. Catra proved that she could actually rise above Shadow Weaver’s abuse and be a better person.

Which brings me back to another Shadow Weaver quote:

“It's too late for me. But you, this is only the beginning for you.”

Again, probably just her trying to be manipulative one last time, but I think there’s some truth to the words. Shadow Weaver has always been self-serving and thinking about ways to save herself, screw everyone else. But she knows there’s nowhere for her in a post-war world, so what the hell, might as well go out with a bang. Alternatively, she could’ve just left Catra to die (as one might expect), and harness the power of the Heart while she was right there, alone with it, and just run. I’m sure she could’ve found a way to make herself an appealing asset to Horde Prime, at least long enough to get off Etheria and find another planet to terrorize with her newfound powers.

And I know people are going to argue and say she was straight up being manipulative, but to what end? I absolutely believe her final words were a mind fuck - the “you’re welcome” combined with taking off her mask and showing her true face pretty much screamed “this is who she really is, don’t forget that.” It’s the “It’s too late for me” that gets me. She is fully recognizing that she has fucked up beyond repair, and not at all apologetic about it, but she also proceeds to go back on the earlier parallels she drew between herself and Catra. Catra hasn’t fucked up beyond repair yet. Catra broke the cycle. Catra had a chance at a new life, better than the one she had in the Horde, and a chance to be a better person. “This is only the beginning for you” might be the most sincerest words she ever said, to the person she was so sure she had broken.

Wow this got way off track. Anyway, yeah, I think there are some clear parallels between Catra, especially in season four, and Shadow Weaver. And it’s fascinating to think about how that dynamic plays out.

[firemblem-fics]

Running With the Wolves [1]

preview | >>

-> Yuri Leclarc x Fem!Reader

-> Modern!Au | Gang!Au | Enemies to Lovers

-> Word Count: ~3.3k

-> Warnings: Violence, Blood, Cursing, Weapons

-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn’t mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you’re running with the wolves.

-> A/N: SURPRISE I POSTED IT EARLY ! thanks to my lovely beta readers for helping me revise and edit this chapter to make it better! i’m still in a writing mental block but i think this is one step closer to getting out of it! so, please enjoy (again)! also, all characters are aged up (21+)! also y’all should reblog this so it gets out more 🥺

send me an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!

"Fuck- She's losing too much blood, Boss, she's not gonna make it!"

"No, no. She's going to make it- I'll make sure of it. Stay alive!"

Your vision was dark and blurry- you couldn't quite see anything. You could only make out a few silhouettes hovering above you, each one rushing around and yelling frantically. You couldn't count how many were there. Your vision kept doubling and it was hard to discern one person from three. Focusing just caused things to get worse.

"Someone put pressure on the damn wound! She certainly won't make it if you all keep messing around."

It was only now that you noticed a sharp pain radiating from your chest, right below your ribs. You gasped loudly and coughed. It hurt worse than the throbbing that already coursed through your head. Your body burned.

Trying to look down, you saw a rag soaked in blood. Hands with bright nails pressed down on your wound to slow the flow, but it didn't seem to be helping. You started feeling dizzy and laid back again, clenching your eyes tight as nausea engulfed you.

"No, keep your eyes open, Y/N, dammit! Wake up!"

Slowly, the pain began fading, as did your view of the people above you and their voices. You could still barely hear the voice crying, sobbing out your name. Whoever they were, they were crushed.

"Wake up!"

Was that voice finally fading away too?

"Wake up!"

No- it was getting louder.

"Wake up!"

"Ellie, what the fuck do you want?" You groaned, rolling over on your bed.

Your roommate bounced on her knees, making your bed creak loudly. "What do you mean? It's like 10am, your class is at 11. Don’t talk to me with that tone of voice."

"Fuck me."

"Absolutely not, baby." Ellie smacked a pillow beside you and got up. "Get ready!" She went to her own room, leaving you to your own devices.

When you applied for an apartment roommate, Ellie was certainly not the one you were expecting. You would've preferred a chill, laid-back, person. Instead, Eleonora Yumizuru walked into your life (and apartment) and practically made herself at home. She didn't judge you from transferring so far away from your old home for your last year of college, claiming that "home roots don't mean shit when it comes to making it in the real world".

She had the right to say such a thing, having moved to Fodlan from another country in her youth. She was able to understand the occasional homesickness and help you cope as you adjusted to Fodlan life. She understood you like the back of her hand from the moment you met and you did the same for her.

Really, you had to let her move in. She’d probably have stayed even if you rejected her.

She was the complete opposite of what you were looking for- overconfident, stubborn, loud- but she grew on you and easily became your best friend. There was just something about the bubbly, blue-eyed, blonde-bobbed bitch that hooked you.

She had certainly hooked other people as well, but thank God her bedroom is on the other side of the apartment. Her social skills and magnetic personality worked for platonic friends and acquaintances as well. Ellie was constantly bringing over friends, allowing you to expand your own circle. She was heaven-sent for a newbie like you.

You sat up from your bed, yawning and stretching. Trudging to your bathroom, you rolled your eyes as the infamous Taylor Swift blared through Ellie's speakers, "Shake it Off" shaking the entire apartment. Nothing against T. Swift, but sometimes she was not the first thing you want to hear when you wake up. At least not at max volume. Ignoring the song switching to "You Belong With Me" -another banger from Swift herself, but really "Teardrops on My Guitar” was your favorite- you finished getting ready and lazed into Ellie's room.

"I've got class 'till late today." You sat on her bed. "Do you want me to pick up dinner? It’ll let me explore the area."

"Oh, please do. You need to get out more. But where?"

You shrugged. "There's really only like two good food places here. Golden Pizza and Blue Lion Buffet. Your choice."

Ellie thought for a moment. "I went to the buffet with my little friend Touma the other day... so pizza! I just can't choose a side in their little spat."

"Spat?" You tilted your head.

"Goodness, Y/N! I know you're a little new here, but you haven't even heard of the shit that goes on between those restaurant owners?"

Shaking your head, you stayed silent for her to continue.

"The owners of Blue Lion Buffet, Eagle's Freezery, and Golden Pizza are all huge rivals. I heard they were all close, but went their separate ways. All the owners' kids are our age, too. They go to Fodlan Uni, but I don't know who they are." She smiled. "I am an esteemed woman with an upcoming high status. Who would I be to take sides? I prefer to cater to them all."

You could only nod, hiding a smirk at Ellie’s infatuation of fame. A huge restaurant rivalry. How funny. "What about that little cafe on the corner? What's it called? Café des Loups?"

"They're pretty neutral, just some college dropouts trying to make some money. I think they’re gonna get involved eventually- every restaurant’s been dragged into their drama at least once."

You nodded, standing up and messing with your apartment keys. "I'll keep that in mind. Bye, Ellie!"

"Bye! I better see some pizza later!" She called as you made your way out of the apartment, now playing "I Knew You Were Trouble".

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

College was honestly a scam.

You sat in the classes for two hours at a time, for what? You were paying thousands of dollars to be talked at by old dusty men who made you fall asleep faster than trying to read their overpriced textbooks. You paid thousands to nap at a desk.

Unfortunately for you, though, your thousand dollar desk nap was interrupted by a tapping on the surface. You huffed and looked up, coming face to face with a pair of soft, orange eyes. They radiated kindness and just looking into them seemed to lift your mood immediately.

"Hey, you need to wake up for this part. The professor said there's gonna be a quiz on this section tomorrow."

You shot up, looking back at your professor. Blushing embarrassedly, you smiled at the boy. "Thank you..."

"Ferdinand." He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, as if to conceal his smile, before giving up and returning yours just as brightly.

As you faced forward to Professor Hanneman, as you were pretty sure his name was- or was it Ham Man? You didn’t care enough to know- you were now struggling with two distractions. One, the weight of your eyelids as they threatened to pull you back into dreamland. Two, Ferdinand.

You kept glancing at him, taking in his complexion. He must have come to class late, since you didn't see him before. Or maybe he was on time- you did fall asleep quite early into the lecture.

You were eyeing his carefully sculpted jawline, dotted with subtle stubble that connected to sideburns and led up to clean, silky, orange hair. You wished to run your fingers through it-

"Y/N, this is the second time I've seen you not paying attention." You jumped nearly three feet in the air. "Next time, I'll have to ask you to leave my class since you are obviously taking it as a joke."

"I-I'm not joking! Sorry!" You stuttered, finally finding a reason to keep your attention on the lecture. You did look away once, just to glare at Ferdinand, who only winked and chuckled at your misfortune.

Class was eventually over and you sighed, finally loosening up from forcing yourself to pay attention. You packed your notebook and laptop and swung your backpack on, getting ready to leave the room before a voice called to you.

You turned back. "Ferdinand?"

"I was simply wondering where your next class was. I can walk you to it, if you'd like." Said boy walked quickly towards you, holding himself with a nearly-perfect posture. You felt anxious- he was trying to make himself seem like a gentleman, but you still felt a little unnerved.

"Oh, um, sure! It's not for another fifteen minutes, but it is across campus."

Ferdinand's grin seemed to get larger, making his eyes crinkle at the edges. "How wonderful! That little café is down there and I've been meaning to check it out anyways. It works out perfectly."

"Uh, yeah." You laughed nervously. This was the first time a boy had taken interest in you- or was he really interested? Maybe he's just being nice-

"Also, before I forget. May I get your number? I'd like to talk to such a gorgeous woman like you a little more."

Oh, he was so interested. You had to make yourself breathe again as you handed him your phone to let him put his number in. He gave it back to you and you noticed a heart and a smiley face emoticon next to his contact name. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the emojis and you felt your cheeks heat up a bit. Ferdinand gave you a sweet smile before holding the door open for you, letting you lead the way to your next class.

On the way to the building, Ferdinand spent the time asking you questions and getting to know you better. He had scratched basically the entire surface of you, save for the secrets that new people shouldn't know, and the same could be said for you. Ferdinand was definitely a polished and refined man. He made quite the impression on you.

"What are you doing after classes?" You asked, hoping to invite him for pizza at your apartment.

"Ah, I've got work!" He smiled sheepishly. He definitely caught onto your hopes...

"Really? Where? Maybe after, you could stop by for some Golden Pizza-"

"Actually, I work at the Eagles Freezery." He was tense, suddenly. "So I really shouldn't. Rivalry and all of that, you know?"

You were a little confused, actually. "Why would that prevent you from hanging out for a bit? You didn't buy it, I did. Plus I thought the rivalry was only between the buffet and the pizza place?”

"It's- it's a loyalty thing. It’s between all three of us.”

"It's a restaurant. How loyal could you possibly be to a dumb little ice cream parlor-"

"It's more than that!" Ferdinand snapped his mouth closed, suddenly making himself quiet after his angry outburst. "Listen, I cannot and will not eat there, look at it, talk about it, or do literally anything about it. Please, just understand that."

"Uh, yeah." You nervously readjusted your backpack on your shoulder. "I- I should get to class now. I'll see you later, Ferdinand."

"Goodbye, I'll message you after work!" With that, he sent you a wink and a smile and turned, going about his own day with the most carefree pep in his step. As if nothing ever happened. You, on the other hand, could not have been more confused. Ferdinand seemed unpredictable when it came to his moods. He was comforting and kind, yet was so… upset when you insulted the parlor. It was a restaurant. Why did he get so worked up about it? Maybe Ellie was right about it being such a big deal.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I just ordered! Go, go, I’m starving!”

Not even five minutes after you got out of your last class, Ellie was calling to remind you about dinner. You were still slightly unnerved from your encounter with Ferdinand, but you agreed to pick it up and would never hear the end of it if you didn’t do something as simple as takeout.

Golden Pizza was only about two blocks away and you stayed on the phone with your roommate the entire time, only saying goodbye as you walked in the establishment. The restaurant was very nice, the honey yellow walls and the glow of the wood-fired oven making the ambience warm and welcoming. You didn’t wait long in the line, soon coming up to meet a boy about your age with a glimmering emerald gaze and a smile just as bright at the front counter.

“Hi!” The boy- Claude, according to his nametag- greeted, “How can I help you?”

“I’m just picking up an order for Eleonora Yumizuru.”

Claude nodded and typed a few things into a computer at the counter. “I know Ellie! She and I had Stats together before she dropped out to pursue her acting career. She’s certainly something.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m her roommate.” Speaking of the devil, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a message from her. “She actually just messaged me. Wants me to bring her a dumb little lemonade from that cafe.”

Claude laughed, “You can go and get it now, if you’d like. Your pizza will be a few more minutes. Ellie set the time for your pickup for later, so you’re actually ten minutes early.”

You thanked him and left, walking to the cafe. You took your time, observing the shops around you. Across the street from Golden Pizza stood the Blue Lion Buffet. You smiled to yourself- what a cliche to have rivals across from each other. Beside the pizza parlor was another food shop, the Eagles Freezery. You thought about Ferdinand- he said he was working today. Maybe you could drop by and- No. No, Y/N. Go get your lemonade and go.

A soft bell chimed as you opened the door. You saw four people in cafe uniforms, going about their day as you approached the register.

“Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Constance, that’s only used for a home.”

You shyly waved at the so-called Constance and the pink-haired girl who corrected her. Cafe des Loups- or Cafe of Wolves- was a quaint place, quiet and not crowded, kind of like an off-brand Starbucks. Dim lights adorned the high black ceiling, illuminating the shop just enough for a comforting ambience. There was a mural of a rainforest painted on the wall to the opposite of the counter with comfortable tables and lounging areas. If you could, you’d probably waste the day away lounging around. It was the perfect environment for an introvert like you.

At this shop, a large dark-haired man controlled the register instead of Claude. As you approached the register, you noticed that he wasn’t wearing a nametag, but you had a small urge to call him Bigfoot.

“Hey! What can I get ‘cha?”

You scoured the menu. “Just two pink lemonades is fine-”

“Oh! Good choice!” Constance interrupted you, coming to stand beside the man. “Yuri-bird over there makes the best sweet lemonades!”

You followed her gaze over to a man who was sitting on a stool, slouched down and leaning his head on his hand. He stretched and stood up. “Thank God, we haven’t had many customers all day. I was starting to think we lost our appeal.”

“Of course we have not!” Constance replied. She turned to you, but you couldn’t tell whether she was still talking to Yuri or you. Maybe it was neither. “Not when someone as handsome as Yuri is making the drinks and my attractive self is greeting the customers!”

“Hey! I’m just as much of a visual as the boss-man.” The taller man joined in after taking your money. “We’re all pretty nice looking. Especially this little lady ordering~”

You blushed a bit. “Oh, please, I’m nothing special-”

“Nothing special?” Constance laid her hand against her chest. “You’re wonderful! Almost on the same level as me. Isn’t that right, Yuri-birdie?”

Yuri looked up from making your drinks, his analytical eyes seemingly boring holes into you. You shuddered, feeling like he could tell your deepest and darkest secrets from just looking at you. He shrugged, going back to the lemonades.

“She’s alright, I suppose.”

“You suppose? Yuri, that’s rude-”

Hapi was midway through lecturing the purple-haired man when the door to the shop chimed open and a rather large group came in. Yuri looked up and suddenly stood alert, as did the other three workers. In the group, you saw a familiar head of orange hair and orange eyes met yours. Your face screwed up into confusion.

“Ferdinand?”

“Don’t say anything.” The leader of the group, a short, white-haired girl snarled. “Are you a new… worker here?”

“Wh- you just told me not to say anything.”

Slowly, Yuri and the other three came up beside you, standing slightly in front. Your heart nearly stopped- you were in the middle of something you definitely weren’t supposed to be in and your sass had gotten on their bad side already. The white-haired girl scrutinized the five of you, her lavender eyes piercing holes through whatever facade of confidence you had tried to put up. You could feel yourself literally wither under her gaze, even more than you did when Yuri looked at you.

“What do you want, Edelgard?” Yuri put his hands on his hip, one fiddling with something under his shirt.

“I want your loyalty.”

Yuri snorted. “You aren’t in charge.”

“I’m not? Hm. Tell that to my father after he stepped down. I’m the leader now- the emperor, if you will.” Edelgard sighed heavily. “I have no time for more conversation if you won’t comply. Hubert, deal with them.”

The terrifying man who you assumed was Hubert suddenly reached in his coat and pulled out a handgun, aiming it at the five of you. Yuri quickly retaliated and pulled one of his own, throwing it at Constance before grabbing your wrist and running to the back. A loud gunshot rang through the air as you and Yuri continued to run. You both dodged around coffee shop equipment and he dragged you through a labyrinth that they considered the back of the store.

As you were running, Yuri pulled you to a sharp right turn and your arm scraped against a metal machine in your way. You hissed in pain and looked down at it, seeing a large wound going down your shoulder to your elbow. It was starting to bleed rather quickly, but you had no time to worry about it. You’d have time to tend to it if you survived.

“What’s happening?”

“No time to explain. Quick, hide!”

Yuri pushed you against the wall in between two larger cabinets and stood in front, grabbing yet another gun from his other hip. He cocked it, listening for the ruckus of the fight in the main room to make its way towards your location. You were shaking like a leaf, grabbing tightly onto your wounded arm and smearing blood all over your fingers and your clothes. You breathed heavily, trying to calm yourself at least a little- was this why Ferdinand had been so defensive over the Eagles Freezery? What kind of restaurant rivalry would constitute attempted murder? And wasn’t this cafe uninvolved anyways? You didn't have time to ponder any more questions as a loud crash echoed through the room. Yuri lifted his gun and began to speak lowly, not taking his eyes off of the door.

“When I say run, go out the back door and get in the black car back there. Don’t go home- one of them will find you.”

A gunshot rang through the air and Constance, Balthus, and Hapi burst through the doors, running towards you all. Yuri turned to you as the three of them caught up to him, pulling out their own weapons again as Edelgard began yelling.

“Run!”

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taglist: @fairyblue-alchemist @emperor-pizza @flavoredmilktea @fe3h-random-writing-and-stuff @mifuyuyu @blviddyd @laurexlance @atomicchocolatecookie @mapesandoval @local-goth-lilz

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[blueeyedrichie]

I'm warning you now that this ask is a personal attack. Ally u awakened something in me that I didn't realize was dormant and now I need more trashy early-mid 2000s aus. I need a Myspace au where Eddie is a Paris Hilton wannabe with a velour tracksuit and a Motorola razor with a phone charm and all of his pics are mirror selfies. And Richie is a rawr xd emo with snakebites and the song on his Myspace page is like nobody puts baby in the corner or something Ally please I need it

I am fucking SCREAMING OVER THIS like this is my entire life now. Literally no cap I’m hhhhhhh so obsessed with this.

Not only am I absolutely sobbing over the image of Eddie in a fucking velour tracksuit (juicy couture brand, and best believe that thing says JUICY on the ass, also it’s baby blue uwu) but it just makes me so happy that he has it and likes to wear it???? Because you know he’d be hiding that from Sonia in the depths of his closet but the moment she leaves the house or maybe late at night he’s putting it on to snap a new photo, definitely just to show off to his internet friends and not at all to catch the attention of a certain someone from his class.

He has a pink razr, with a purple poof ball and a little green turtle as the charms; also there’s a little rainbow sticker on the battery cover :’) and he takes those absolutely horrible selfies in the bathroom from way up above his head and in the mirror that’s covered in fingerprints and toothpaste splashes and half the time you can definitely see the toilet in the background, but it’s easy to ignore because he looks so cute in his lil tracksuit (and when he’s feeling extra fancy he puts some glittery hard candy brand eyeshadow on) and spends literal hours deciding which one to upload as his new default picture, and probably another hour deciding what lyrics to use as his caption. He ends up going with now tell me, who have you been dreaming of? Since it’s from his current profile song “Stars Are Blind” by the one and only Paris Hilton.

Then we have Richie, with thick, black framed glasses, an absolute disaster of curls on his head that falls into his eyes; which are lined darkly to match the chipped polish on his nails. He wears black jeans and hoodies and band shirts exclusively, ranging from Fall Out Boy to My Chemical Romance to Mindless Self Indulgence. His MySpace song is “Shut Me Up”.

Richie has an orange EnV with a cracked screen and an “it’s not a phase” sticker on the back (the words are like an ombré of the bisexual flag colors bc I say so). His top 8 is literally just Tom and then a bunch of bands because he doesn’t fuck around with that shit.

He ABSOLUTELY has snake bites, and he wears bracelets and shit all the time (he has one of those lil handcuff bracelets from hot topic pls I hope someone knows what I’m talking abt) and definitely has a chain on his wallet that jingles every time he walks. He smokes under the bleachers at school and hangs out with like three people that like the same music as him.

It’s not that Richie and Eddie don’t want to hang out, it’s just that they don’t really run in the same circles. They only have art together, and Richie is always listening to his headphones while he draws, and Eddie stares at him from his spot beside him, always amazed at how well Richie can draw. Sometimes Richie looks up and catches his gaze and gives him a crooked little smile, his silver piercings glinting in the fluorescent light from above them. What Eddie doesn’t notice is how Richie watches him too, and thinks it’s cute the way Eddie daydreams and fiddles with his little phone charms during class.

Richie does a lot of really shitty photo edits in photofiltre bc he doesn’t wanna pay for photoshop. When the day comes that Eddie comments on his profile to ask if Richie can make him one, Richie agrees. And if they start messaging back and forth and Eddie takes longer to decide what he wants just so he can talk to Richie more, then that’s just fine.

And then they start commenting on each other’s photos and messaging everyday and talking more at school and neither of them will admit it, but it’s so much fucking fun. They’re so different but complement each other so well, and next thing he knows, Eddie is hanging out in Richies bedroom sharing earbuds with him and listening to “Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner” and maybe he doesn’t totally hate it. Richie begs him to change his profile song because “the whole Paris aesthetic is actually hot,” he winks, knowing about her ridiculous catch phrase, “but you gotta admit that song sucks shit.”

Eddie scoffs at him, but doesn’t remove the earbud and just keeps listening, stealthily scooting closer to Richie as he flips through a sketchbook and shows Eddie his favorite drawings. He points one out, asking who it is and why his face is like that.

“That’s Pete Wentz, and that’s his grr face,” Richie then makes the same face, sending Eddie into a fit of giggles.

And normally, Eddie wouldnt post a photo of himself without his outfit and makeup and hair done just right, bc his regular jeans and shorts and sweaters aren’t the look he’s going for on his online persona, but he has to get a photo with his crush, because suddenly having people know that he’s hanging with Richie is far more important than a lil break away from his aesthetic. Richie rolls his eyes, but smiles and agrees on one condition, “you have to do the grr face.” Eddie pouts but ultimately says yes. They stand in front of the mirror on the back of Richies door that’s covered in sloppily written lyrics in what Eddie assumes is sharpie. Eddie stares at himself and tries to get it just right, snapping a couple photos, all of which have Richie either laughing or throwing his hands up next to him.

“I can’t do it right.”

“Just do it like this,” Richie makes the face to Eddie in the mirror, who mimics him. “Just like that!” Richie takes the phone from him so Eddie can focus, and then when Eddie gets the face just right, Richie throws his free arm around Eddie’s waist and leans in to kiss his cheek, snapping a photo to capture Eddie with the little sneer, and then another of his cherry red cheeks and dropped jaw when he realizes Richie is kissing him.

They end up going on a date after that, and they both surprise each other with gifts. Eddie makes Richie a little beaded bracelet, R+E are in between the pink, blue, and purple beads. Richie gives him a drawing he did of the photo they took together, except he drew Eddie wearing his tracksuit instead of his other clothes.

They both change their default photos to match (Richie uses the one of Eddie looking shocked; Eddie uses the one with the grr face) and they split the lyrics from another one of Richies fav Fall Out Boy songs for their captions: I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive on Richies and now I only waste it dreaming of you on Eddie’s.

[mybrothershands]

spoon 2

if tumblr dies just know it was by mine own hand but I think i got the paragraphs to post in order this time bngfhuriepiio

link to the part one: 

https://mybrothershands.tumblr.com/post/617963341198016512/would-be-very-interested-to-read-about-the-spoon

The boy sat vigil outside of the doctor's home, legs long since gone numb. The worst came to mind. What if his friend's lungs collapsed? Was he bleeding on the inside? Or his heart- was it safe? No one had come out to tell him otherwise, so all he could do was sit there and worry.

Dew had settled on the boy's neck and shoulders as he stared down at the hands in his lap and listened to the dogs bark in the distance. His stomach growled, and he found himself wishing he had eaten the apples and oats that had been put in front of him earlier instead of throwing a fit. He was not sure he could eat anything now. The growling sound came again, louder this time, and he clenched his jaw. Maybe he should go back and at least try, if only it would shut up this horrible noise.

Just as he was about to get up, he heard a door creak open, and firelight spilled out onto the street in front of him. At first he worried it was the doctor, and all of his fears flooded past his eyes. Yet it was not Dr. Baker and instead there was a young girl holding the doorknob. Her eyes travelled up, up, up, until she met his face with wide eyes, her mouth agape.

If the boy had not been near tears before, he certainly was now. Surely this child would scream and run back into the house any moment now. He closed his eyes and waited, frozen in place. Yet as the time ticked on, no such cry was raised. Instead, she clutched a pillow in her arm, the end of it dragged the ground, and took a step out onto the stoop. "You are very big," she observed.

The young giant squeezed his eyes shut tight. Yes, he was painfully aware of this. It was not until she started to approach that he drew in a breath. "Uh, uhm… maybe you should return to the barn- er, house. I mean house."

She seemed to ignore him, dragging her pillow in the dirt as she came closer still, eyes full of wonder. "Are you Caw?"

He took both his hands and clamped them under his armpits. To keep her safe. "It's Ka," he softly corrected. Though the difference was subtle, "caw" always sounded stupid to him. "Why don't you return to the house?"

He cleared his throat when she persisted, "It's late. Dr. Baker will be upset."

"He's busy," she shrugged, drawing closer to his left leg. "You look a lot different than I thought."

He narrowed his eyes. How had she known his name? Then an image came to mind- one of her and Dr. Baker and his wife around the table, telling stories of the town menace. Ka closed his eyes and sighed softly. "What did you expect?" He said, more because he felt obligated to ask than out of true curiosity.

The girl shrugged, stopping short of touching him. "I dunno. You just look more… real. More human than I thought."

Silence grew between them. "I am not human," Ka said decisively. He clamped hands firmly to his sides. "And I am not safe. Return inside."

She cocked her head. "You talk funny," she said, ignoring him again.

"Leave," he ordered.

"This is my house," she countered, looking him straight in the eye. The girl opened her mouth as if about to say more, but left it at that. She reached out to touch his knee, despite how nervous this made the giant.

It took Ka several seconds to recover from her words, but was quickly brought back into reality when she started trying to climb onto his folded knee. "I- uh, erm. Well, this is my... self-area."

She peered up at him. "What?"

"Self-area. I don't want... you are too close."

"I don't give a crap," she spat, proud to say the word. Just as she did, there came another horrible noise. The girl stilled for a moment, an arm and a leg hooked over his knee, and made a face. "What was that?"

"That was your tummy?" She said, eyes wide. "It sounded like a monster."

Ka grimaced. "I'm… well, today I haven't eaten anything. I should leave."

At this, the giant grew still, and his face sombered. He shoved his hands deeper into his armpits, hugging himself. "I think you should return to the house," Ka said quietly. His eyes began to sting. "Now?"

For once, the girl paused. She slid off his knee, though not completely on purpose. "Will you come back?"

"Yes," he lied.

In the dim moonslight, she could not quite see the shadow of his face way up there. Yet the way his eyes would not meet hers- well, that much she could see. "Promise?" She asked.

Ka studied her for a moment. If he said no, she would not back away enough for him to get up. Moving her himself was out of the question. Not after what he had done. "Maybe," he decided.

This seemed to satisfy her well enough, and she dragged her pillow back to the house. Ka's eyes followed her, and was surprised to find her mother standing at the door, watching. How long had she been there for? She did not give him a chance to ask, however. With the child safely under her wing, she glared him square in the eye, face blank. The only thing that broke her gaze was the door as it closed between them.

The boy drew in a deep breath which turned into a stifled, nervous yawn, and sighed. He uncurled his arms and leaned forward. Finding his legs had gone to sleep, he stayed there on his hands and knees for a moment, allowing the blood to return to his feet. That was when he noticed it. A little human footprint in the dirt, right next to the crook of his thumb. How small it looked, like a mere bird's track, and as he removed his hand he found more of the same.

He did not belong among them.

When Ka at last could stand again, he left for his barn. Thankfully, he met no one on the road. Yet the dogs did hush as he lumbered past. Tails tucked, he imagined.

There was not much to pack up. Only a few spare clothes. He looked at his plate, untouched, and the utensils beside it. Though he finished off the apples and oatmeal, he did not touch the spoon. He wanted to bend that one up, to destroy it, yet it felt wrong. Cairo had bought it for him, after all, so it was not his to break.

The boy's eyes drooped. His muscles still ached from the previous day's work, and having gotten little to no sleep the night before was wearing on him. He could sleep once he reached the outskirts, the young giant decided. That way no one would have to gawk or cower from him if he left during the day. So, with the little bundle under an arm, Ka ducked out the barn, headed south.

He would miss Cairo. Very much so, he realized, but it would be safer this way.

---

The morning came with the patter of hooves on grass. At first he thought it was Lempkins, come to fetch him for work again. Yet the beats sounded different, not like the buckskin he usually rode. Ka lifted his head to find a pony coming up the road towards the trees under which he lay. The little beast's trot looked rougher than river rock, with its head reared to spot any opportunity to turn back towards the barn. The rider: a young boy.

Ka decided he would get out of his way. He knew how spookish horses got around him. Slowly, he got to his feet and turned away, quickly putting ground between himself and the rider. Yet even as he did so, the hoof-fells did not seem to fade. Rather, they picked up at the tick of a whip. Maybe he should hurry more to get out of the pony's way.

Then came a voice. Unsure at first, not knowing how to call. "Hey! Uhm," the human struggled with the pony a moment before redirecting his attention. "H- hey, giant! Wait up," he called.

Ka slowed, not sure if he had heard correctly. At last he paused and glanced back. The boy was staring straight at him, half pleading and half angry at his mount. The pony stopped as soon as her rider stopped kicking, and took instead to fidgeting, trying to turn around. "Your brother- he asked me to fetch you."

The young giant's brow traced with worry, and fear grew in his eyes. "My...?" He noticed the equine looked fairly fresh. Surely his brother was not so closeby? Mouth dry, Ka swallowed a lump in his throat. "What… did he hurt you?"

The rider looked a bit confused, but too distracted by his mount to voice it. "No. I mean he was grouchy, but that's normal."

Ka blinked. That description did not fit. "Wait, who? My brother, you said."

The boy nodded, a bit indignant at this stupid giant. "He's back at Baker's. He can't ride with his ribs broken, so he sent me."

"Wh-" the pieces began to fall into place. "C- Cairo?"

"Yeah, him!"

Ka was still a moment, lips parted and jaw slack. Cairo had called him that? Even after what he had done...? He looked away. "Tell him you could not find me."

"He's not going to pay me if I come back without you," said the boy. He glared up at him, a question in his eye. Why did he balk?

Pausing, the giant considered this, studying the little human. He remembered the tracks in the dirt from the previous night and how tiny they had looked beside his hand. How effortlessly he had struck Cairo and yet still broken him. Even the pony the boy rode could easily be picked up in one hand. It was just a simple sum of money for the boy, but for him? Ka sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Could you make up your mind?" Said the human, pulling heavily on his chubby steed's mouth. The pony was getting back to the barn, even if she had to back-pace the whole way there.

"No," Ka decided, turning away. Cairo would get by just fine without him. They all would.

"Please?"

Ka glanced over his shoulder and firmed his brow. "What of your parents? Wouldn't they be happy I'm gone? This would be a giant-free place again." He grumbled.

The boy did not hear, busy fighting the pony. As the crop whacked her rump just a touch too hard, she sat down, and the boy slid off. Free, she got up and galloped off with a trail of dust rising behind her. Hearing the boy curse Ka paused, turning around to find him in the mud. He took a step towards him, but stepped right back.

"Are you hurt?" Ka said from a distance.

The boy glared in response. He pushed himself up and wiped the mud from his pants. "Just get your sorry butt back to Baker's so I can get my pay," shouted the messenger.

The young giant sighed, then pursed his lips. Maybe just to say goodbye. He owed him that much. Ka nodded, but did not move until the boy forcefully pointed back towards the town. Making sure to skirt well around the little human, the giant headed into town.

---

Ka did make it back to Baker's, but was quickly turned away. Cairo had left hours ago, and not before raising cain. The girl from the night before waved at him from the window, but the curtain was curtly drawn before she could open it. Well, he had tried, anyway.

Lost in thought and out of habit, his feet carried him back to the barn. There he found a curious sight. Cairo was sitting in the massive open doorway, staring up at nothing. Ka padded softly over, and the man's head turned ever so slightly before returning to stare into the dark. They were silent for a moment, neither sure what to say. When they did, it was both at once.

"Cairo, I-" he sighed. "Tha mi duilich."

The human did not answer for a long time. The wind rushed past them in the quiet. Birds began to chatter, and even distant conversation of farmers reached them. Still, not a word. Quietly, Ka sat down beside him, crossed his legs, and stared into the barn. At nothing.

"You were just going to leave?" The human said at last, his voice quiet.

"You would be safer without-"

"What! Safer without you?" Cairo snapped, instantly regretting it. He turned to face him, eyes red and cheeks wet. "Come down here so I don't have to yell," he grumbled, wincing as he gripped his side.

The giant obeyed, pulling his feet out from under himself until he lay flat on his belly in the dirt, his face propped up on his arms. Even as he did so, he had moved further away. Enough so that the motion barely served its purpose. "Tha mi-"

Cairo held up a hand. "No, me. I'm sorry."

"Sorry," Ka mouthed the new word, and the human nearly scowled at him for it.

"I-" He cleared his throat. "I shouldn't have thrown that lamp at you. That was cruel of me. Even if you can take it."

Ka was silent, not meeting his eye. As if there was something on his tongue, he opened his mouth but thought better, and clamped it shut again.

Cairo continued. "This wasn't your fault," he said, indicating his broken side. "Do you understand?" His voice was stern.

Silence came again as the giant stared at Cairo's ribs. It was covered in some kind of bandage, and a shirt over that. In the back of the boy's mind he could still feel the bones crinkling in his grip, and felt his face heat up. Words flowed out, but in that language, Cairo could barely understand what the young giant was saying. At the end of his little rant, Ka buried his face in his arms and began to shudder and cry.

There came a grunt, a growl, and a curse which was presumably Cairo getting to his feet. In a moment, there was a small but firm hand on his shoulder. "Hey now, you quit that crying," he said, though his tone was soft. They sat there for a while like that, the human still awkwardly patting the shoulder he had ridden on so many times.

It took awhile for Ka's breathing to slow, though not as long as it had last night. Wiping his nose on his shirt collar, he picked his head up and sniffed. "I'm sorry, Cairo," he said, the words awkward on his tongue.

"Don't be. It wasn't your fault, remember?" He lightly punched the giant's arm. Some of his normal gruff tone began to return. "And don't run off like that, fool. Now I have to pay that kid."

"I'm s-"

He punched him again, harder this time. "Stop saying that," he growled.

Ka nodded, but kept his gaze down at his hands. Cairo's feet rested within the crook of his right thumb, and though his boots were bigger than the little girl's bare feet, they still looked tiny next to his own fingers. "He told me… that my brother was looking for me," he said quietly. "Why did you tell him that? That I was…."

Cairo reached out and grabbed the bridge of Ka's nose and tried to shove his head back and forth. "Because you are, idiot." he said.

Although Ka's eyes followed him, he was too close to focus on. Even so, he could still hear the smile in his voice.

Brother. He mulled the word over in his mind. How strange it was, because if this were true, and Cairo were older…. A smile cracked on his face. "A bit silly."

"No it isn't," Cairo said, and backhanded Ka's cheek.

The giant flinched, more out of surprise than anything. "No, I meant. You would be the 'big' brother," he said. Sitting up on his elbows, Ka reached out and nearly poked the man before freezing up. He curled his fingers back and tucked his hand away.

Cairo glared at the retreating hand. "You can still touch me," he growled. "I'm not made of glass." He then reached up and whacked Ka's jaw as if to demonstrate, but winced and came away gripping his side.

He then noticed the bundle of clothes Ka had been carrying, then to the barn, and sighed. "Look, I know it's rough, but you can't just up and leave like that." He looked away, voice quiet, "Lempkins may let us keep the wood you've collected, maybe we could…" he rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Would you rather be around your own kin?" He said at last, almost as if defeated.

"Yes," Ka said at once. Then paused, bringing his hand up hesitantly. "But, I would miss you," he said. Slowly, he reached out again. This time he softly poked Cairo's belly, which awarded him a curt smack and an angry glare.

"I won't run away again," he said, hiding a smile. "Not like that… not without saying goodbye."

"Hmm, better not." Cairo grumbled, then quickly changed the subject. "Lempkins won't bother you today, but I did talk to him about your pay."

As if in response, Ka's stomach growled. The boy grimaced as he remembered the girl's words. About how he sounded like a monster.

Cairo, however, laughed at the sound as he patted Ka's arm. "I told him a growing boy needs three squares a day. He didn't like that much but," he winked, "I think he needs you too much to let you quit."

At this, Ka felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he sighed.

"Mmh," he grumbled. "Well, come on, then. We'd best tell him you're back or else he won't feed you. Get up, come on. I've walked out there once and I'm not doing it again."

At this, Ka paused. Poking him was one thing, but the idea of picking him up brought back nightmares. "I'm…" he began.

"Safe," Cairo finished. "And I'm going to carry my ruggedly handsome big brother so he doesn't have to walk with this ghastly war wound."

Ka almost smiled before sitting up. Safe? The idea seemed almost foreign now. Yet he found himself offering a weak hand for Cairo, who readily took to it.

"Alright, already," The human urged, waving him up with his hands. "Get your lazy bones off the ground and let's get going. If we hurry back, I can still get drunk before noon."

Ka raised an eyebrow as he slowly got to his feet, still taking extra caution. "Or not," he said.

Cairo clawed his hands and scrubbed the palm beneath him. This tickled a bit, causing a smile to finally poke through again. "Oh, come on, now," the man teased. "Little liquor never hurt anyone, did it?"

"Uhhhh."

"Forget I said that," Cairo said as they started walking.

It would be awhile before Ka would be comfortable touching or handling humans again. Maybe it was best to take something like this as a learning experience and move on, but it was certainly easier said than done. It took a while, even longer than it took for Cairo's bones to knit (which was much to Cairo's frustration) but move on they did. Still, the human made it a point not to throw any lamps at his brother from then on.

[phantomofsilence]

Title : Stuck Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Word Count : Honestly who the hell knows?

Warning : Sad Bucky, sad Steve, you can see it from the request.

A/N :

Alright so i already posted this request but Tumblr somehow deleted it. So i had to do it all over again. Well thankfully not the story, i fortunately wrote it in the notes, i learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway along with a story the request itself was deleted. So i think this is how the request went, if it was your request message me if it was wrong. Also i had a really hard time with this request, i don't know why i just wasn't inspired, well probably more tired from college than inspired, but that's why it took so long. I wanted to do it right. Also for anyone else who send me a request i saw it, and i will right it as soon as my obligations allow me some free time. Also i did the P. O. V. thing so don't get confused. Okay, enough rambling, i hope you like it. And also i believe there was a compliment in the request for gif usage, thank you for that. 😘😘😘❤️

Request : Can you do a fic where you and the new agent are getting closer to the point where the team suspects that you are falling out of love with Bucky? (angst to fluff).

Steve's P. O. V.

As soon as he saw her enter the kitchen Chris was out of his seat smothering her in a hug, but Natasha and Steve, hung back and watched with frowns on their faces.

They stayed quiet during their conversation occasionally sipping coffee.

Their stubbornness and Steve's persistence in making sure both him and the team stay out of this complicated and deeply personal situation, rendered them mute, as they stood there cold and stoic, as they sipped on their coffee.

Many would say the intimacy in the embrace, those gentle smiles, and completely unnecessary gazes they were curently being subjected to were highly inappropriate and Steve would have to agree with them.

The more he watched, the more sorry he felt for his friend. But no, Steve wasn't angry at her, he was hurt. How could such a sweet girl be so uncaring? No one deserves this kind of treatment, his friend the least. He's been through so much already, Steve thought you out of all people understood this.

He lost so much, did he have to lose you too?

You were the rock that kept thing moving, a force anyone could fall back on if needed to be. And you want to abandon it all, for this Chris, a man you barely know compared to his friend.

Steve knew he was letting his feelings cloud his judgement, and you haven't really done anything but spent time with a man you claimed was your friend, a man that was your partner. He knew he spent just as much, if not more time with Natasha and she was one of his most valued friends.

Also, Chris seemed like a nice guy, the kind of man if you were still single he'd advise you to go for.

But that's it, you weren't single. In fact you were in a committed relationship with the most important person in his life.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he didn't know what to do. Invade his best friend's privacy or let his best friend be hurt when he could at least cushion the blow.

One more look at the 'lovely couple' and he decided, privacy be damned, his friend deserves honesty at least and he was gonna make sure he got it for him.

"Steve.." a voice trailed off cautiously, he looked over the see Natasha leaning on the counter facing them, with her head turned towards him looking at him.

"I know, Nat." he knew he shouldn't have snapped, it wasn't her fault. She sighed.

"Steve it should be one of us, I know it sucks to hurt him like that, but it's even worse if he caught them, and we knew but didn't tell him."Like always the redhead was right, but he still tried to reason with her.

"But she hasn't done anything yet Natasha, we can't make things up when they didn't happen."

She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Yes, Steve, she hasn't done anything, yet Steve. The key word being yet. Come on, Steve! They've known each other for only two months, and they are joined at the hip. If you think Bucky didn't notice you are mistaken. Dude's been giving her the kicked puppy eyes for days now and she hasn't even noticed choosing to ogle at her new beau. This calls for revenge! "The redhead took a deep breath and said.

" He is your best friend Steve, if the rolls were reversed wouldn't you like him to say something? "

Steve didn't respond, it wasn't necessary, they both knew the answer. Instead of pushing him, Natasha gently squeezed his shoulder and left him in the kitchen to think it over.

An hour later Steve was letting out his anger on a punching bag. The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he got.

This wasn't his relationship but it was his friend. Thou you were his friend too, after Peggy's death you along with Natasha were there for him, hell you've spent the whole day making jokes just to make him forget.

You were like Bucky, the Bucky from before, not just before The Winter Soldier, but before the war. The guy that got him in a lot of trouble and the guy that stood by him and protected him when he took a bite too large to swallow.

The man that took him to many unsuccessful dates, his companion, his family, it's what drew him to you.

You were a sense reality in the world that no longer made sense, a familiar face in a strange place.

Although he wanted to protect his friend, he also felt oddly protective of you. He couldn't betray your trust, but he couldn't betray Bucky either.

Why did this has to be so hard? He thought and punched the punching bag so hard it ripped and fell few feet away.

"What did that punch bag ever do to you?" Said a man Steve was successfully avoiding since this morning.

"Oh, hey Buck. What's up?" he said trying to act nonchalant. "I could ask you the same thing. Why are you avoiding me? Did i do something?" Bucky demanded.

"I'm not avoiding you." Steve mildly shrugged. Glaring at him he got closer almost to his face. "What the hell is going on?"

Steve could hear the anger in his voice, but also hurt, trying to protect him he's the one that ended up hurting him.

"Nothing, Buck." Steve said. "Listen here, punk!

"It's bad enough the love of my life could possible be cheating on me right now, now i can't even trust you!? What the hell man?"

Steve looked at his best friend, his eyes were puffy, tears threatening to spill, but he refused to let them fall, he had dark bags under his eyes, he hasn't been sleeping well, his hands shaking in anger, this was a man already hurt.

"Look i wanted to tell you about her, but I didn't want to betray her either so I've been ignoring you both so i don't hurt anyone. I guess that ship sailed." He said, his friend deserved honestly at least he can get it from him.

"You think she's cheating on me?" asked Bucky. "I don't know, man. I did not see her so anything, from all we know we're just making stuff up."

Steve frowned, even thou he shouldn't do it now, he was defending her. "You're a good friend, Steve. But i didn't ask what you saw, i want a yes or no answer." Bucky said.

"Why do i matter, why are you asking me? If you really wanted to know you'd ask her. But you're asking me because you know i will never give you that answer. So why are you asking me, Buck?" Steve demanded.

Bucky glared at him, before he grabbed his shoulder giving him a smile." You're a punk, kid."Bucky said, paused to inhale and exhale before continuing." It's because i don't really wanna know. I love her, Steve. If fact i love her so much that even thou, she 's literally ripping me in half, my brain is still finding a reason to forgive her. That she loves me and it's all a mistake. I'm pathetic."

Bucky lowered his head, squeezed his shoulder again, let go and turned to leave.

At the door Steve voice halted him in place.

" You're not pathetic. You love her. Knowing you my whole life, you were never soft on a dame like that. I'm sorry it had to be like this."

Without turning around Bucky whispered. "Me too." And left.

Steve could see it bright as day this man was a mess. He had to do something, you might be his friend, and it wasn't his business , but he was about to confront you.

Steve knew you, you were not a coward.

He would get you to tell the truth, perhaps it wasn't too late. You need to be honest and you might even work it out with Bucky.

Taking his phone out of his pocket he texted you to meet him in his room.

Your P. O. V.

After the workout Chris suggested you go to the diner you always go after a successful mission.

"Come on it's been some time since we been there." Snorting at that statement you replied. "We literally went there two days ago."

Groaning Chris whined. "Exactly, too long, come on i know you can practically taste those fries and that strawberry and vanilla milkshake you like. Eh, it will be fun and if i may say so i make great company."

Although the offer was tempting, and you really could taste those fries and that delicious milkshake, you had to go home to your boyfriend.

You missed him so much, and judging by those sad eyes he's been giving you he missed you just as much, if not more.

The missions you were being sent on this past month left little to no time for your relationship, and now having to prepare for an undercover mission of great importance and you weren't allowed to speak about it with anyone according to Maria, you were forced to spend all your free time with Chris.

Well forced was a harsh word, Chris was a great man and an amazing partner, but he wasn't your boyfriend.

"Sorry gotta take a rain check." You mumbled apologetically. Chris smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

"Hey i get it, if i had a hunk like that waiting for me at home, i wouldn't even bother talking to you. Scram, kid." You arched an eyebrow on chuckling. "Is that so? "

"I'd fuck him."

As you were nearing your apartment your phone buzzed. Looking at the screen you saw you had a text from Steve. Opening it read' We need to talk, met me at my place'.

Steve was not the best texter but he never sounded this urgent and formal. If this was about the mission he would have asked meat at The Tower, this was personal.

Something was wrong.

All it took was three knocks to be met with Steve's hard gaze, he stood aside allowing you to come in.

"So we need to talk?Are you breaking up with me Steve?"A light-hearted joke that was meant to brighten the mood was met with a glare. Okay, not the right crowd.

"Listen, i know it's non of my business and you're my friend, but this needs to end. What the hell is going on with you and Chris? "

Steve asked firmly before placing his hands on his belt buckle. You knew that stance, you've seen it a million times, it was meant to frighted and send a message that he met business.

You never thought you's see it being used on you. But you weren't so easily scared.

"You're right, Steve it's non of your business ." You replied defensively. Who was he thinking he could question you?

"You're right, but i don't care. I'm the one who has to watch my friend heartbroken when you leave with Chris, so excuse me if I'm a little protective. Just don't. Own up to it." Steve said.

"Own up to what, Steve? Heartbroken? My Bucky? What the hell is going on?" You demanded. You have done nothing to Bucky. What the hell is he talking about?"You hurt him and..." Steve began but you cut him off. "Hurt him i haven' t even spoken to him!" You piped up.

"Exactly."

Bucky's P. O. V.

Knowing he couldn't stay cupped up in his room with all those thoughts swearing in his head Bucky decided to take a walk, and by walk he meant a run, muttering angry at nothing and panting wildly.

He wasn't sure if he was panting because he was tired from the aggressive run or the work his mind put him through.

He decided the latter.

As if he was cursed to suffer today, he ran into the last person he wanted to see. Chris strolled up to him, a bright smile on his face, as if he wasn't the cause to his misery. Some nerve on this guy!

"Hey, Buck right?" he said to Bucky holding his hand for him to shake. Bucky just looked down at it frown.

"Not a hand shaker? Alright, i get it. I'm getting used on it myself.Also some say it's unhygienic."

What pissed of Bucky even more was that Chris wasn't even fazed by Bucky unfriendly stance. This guy!

"Anyway i just wanted to meet the man my partner won't shut up about. I mean that woman's got you on a pedestal you'd think your shooting rainbow out of your ass."

Keep rubbing salt to an open wound, Bucky though. This dude was something else.

"Look man, i don't really know her for that long, but she's kinda grown on me. She's one heck of a woman. She means a lot to me and... " Bucky cut him of. "I can imagine." He remarked through his teeth.

"No, you really can't, she has been there for me after the war, you know when you get back everyone keeps walking on egg shells around you, it's a strange place, even the bed feels wrong, too soft. But she made me feel human."

Suddenly the anger for the man was gone and all that was left was confusion. Chris was a marine? It would explain his posture.

" She's not afraid to hold me, i thank God or whatever is out there everyday for a friend like her. "

Bucky knew what he was talking about oh to well, she made him fell the same. She was comfort, she was peace, she was his home.

" Why are you telling me all of this? "Bucky asked.

" Because I'm not blind, i know a jealous man when i see one. She holds me because it helps me relax, not because she is in love with me. Don't even try to deny it. I know what it feels to love her, but you know what it feels like to be loved by her. If anyone has the right to be jealous, it's me. Don't screw this up, man. See ya. "

Before Bucky even had the chance to process what Chris had said, he turned and ran the other way.

Walking into your room you felt oddly nervous. You didn't even know it but you've made the man you love, a man in doubt.

He now questioned your love and you did not even notice. Sure you saw a bit of sadness but regarded it as him simply missing you.

Not a man heartbroken and riddled with insecurities. He probably hasn't even slept right and you didn't see it.

There was no reason for your fear, the room was empty, no Bucky in sight. Footsteps in the hallway made you turn around. Walking out of the room you followed the footsteps into the hallway, outside your apartment, down the stairs and only when you were outside did you catch the glimpse of the man of our.

Gathering enough courage you called out Bucky who at the sound of your voice turned and froze.

The tension was high, you could feel it in the air as you stared at one another.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak not even knowing what to say Bucky crossed the distance, grabbed you by the back of your neck and kissed you.

It only took you a second to respond, the kiss was desperate, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance, while hands roamed all over, pulling, squeezing.

Pulling away for air you kept your eyes closed. "Tell me you love me." Pleaded Bucky, making you feel even more guilty.

Opening your eyes your hands sneaked themselves around his neck pulling until your forehead touched his own.

"I'm not sure about a lot of things Bucky. But there is one thing i am sure about and that is that i love you, James Buchanan Barnes, i love you and i always will. I'm sorry i ever made you doubt my love. "

"No, i am the one that's sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you in the first place. I got so stuck in my own head. I'm sorry. I love you so much, doll."

"I love you. Let's just forget about it and agree that from now on we will talk about this things. No holding back. "

"You're right. From now, we talk. But please be patient with me. And do me a favor, will you."

"Anything."

"Don't quit on me. I know it can be hard to be with me sometimes, but I love you as much it is possible for this broken man to love. "

"You're not broken, just bent. And don't act like I'm a walk in the park, i know i can be frustrating. But this is a relationship, we work together, we compromise, we fight, we make love. We don't quit on each other, we fight for us."

"I love you."

"And i love you."

[happyminyards]

Hey there. I'm one of those folks reposting your break-up-wait-why-did-we-break-up posts. Because they are SO GREAT! Part of what draws me in is how this/your Andrew finds another way to respect Neil's boundaries + agency. You said you're primarily writing academic work now. Well, IF you are so inclined/have time to make room, would you consider writing more in this vein? Maybe what happens next when they *are* calling + visiting? Maybe they try sexting? Don't care WHAT, but I do care for MORE❤

arrives seven months late with whatever this is, part 1 here but not really needed, this is just long distance shmoop and feelings

hello yes one order of long-distance communication coming up. thank you SO MUCH for your kind words!! 

“You know Aaron actually send me a meme yesterday, you think he’s forgiven me?” Neil asked, curled up at the end of the couch, his laptop on the coffee table showing Andrew’s somewhat pixellated face. 

“Aaron said he’d steal my knives and stab you himself if you, and I quote, ‘mess this shit up again’,” Andrew replied, leaning back against his pillow, “I told him that I called dibs on that five years ago.” he shifted again, probably trying to get the blanket wrapped around his feet like he refused to admit he liked, and Neil ached to brush his fingers over the skin behind his knees

“I’m still putting memes down as progress, and according to Robin it was a good one at that.”

“There’s a ranking?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m just a lowly exy captain with no taste in internet humour, apparently” Neil smirked when he hears Andrew huff a laugh, but looked down, swallowing to build up the courage to ask “Hey, Drew?” 

“Hmm?”

“Can I keep the phone on again tonight? Just. It’s been a weird week.”

Maybe Neil imagined it, but the corners of Andrew’s eyes seemed to soften the tiniest bit, “Yes, you can. I don’t mind.”

Neil had left Andrew’s place with a new stolen jersey, two worn soft hoodies that he didn’t plan to put into the wash, and his emotions in a swirling mess 

They had spent the weekend talking, slowly rekindling themselves, Neil doing his best to skirt around the issue of basically no sleep and trying to keep the rest of the Foxes from figuring out his slow collapse. But Andrew could still see through his smoke and mirrors, could draw out a sigh and an honest answer with the touch of his thumb to Neil's cheekbone

So they talked about the future, where they’d go from here. 

“It’s simple. every time you thought about telling me something, sending me a message or a picture, you do that. You don’t ignore it, you just send me a picture of that stupid sign at the coffee shop.” Andrew had summed it up, the way he stared at his cup for a few seconds before the only indicator of his unease with the open talk. He had gotten better at it over the years, but Neil suspected that the break hadn’t exactly helped in healing old wounds.

“I just don’t want to annoy you. Or distract you.”

“Neil. as much as you annoy me sometimes, I much prefer that over not knowing whether you’re about to keel over from sleep deprivation.”

Neil blew out a huffed breath “That’s not what I want it to be about. We’re not doing this because I apparently function better with you around. If I send you something or call you I want it to be because we both enjoy it.” he shifted uneasily, keeping his toes tucked under Andrew's thighs, trying to ignore the way Andrew kept drawing small circles on his ankle almost unconsciously, “I don’t want you back just so I can sleep. I could have figured that out. I want you back because having you there makes everything easier, yes, but it also makes everything better. I love having you around, I want to talk to you just because it’s you and you’re, well, you’re my favourite person.” 

He knew his head must have been fire engine red at this point, and his eyes kept flickering over to the book on the shelf, the cat dish by the door, the picture of the twins at graduation day on the wall 

(He remembered Nicky beaming at finally getting a picture of the two of them, how he kept calling out obscene things to try and get them to smile until Aaron finally cracked and started laughing, leading to Andrew throwing his brother a look that could be called slightly bemused, the corners of his mouth twitching. He also knew Nicky had his own copy of the picture at his house in Germany, and according to Erik kept showing it off as “My cousins, the doctor-to-be and the exy star”) 

Andrew looked at him, his hand closing around his ankle, biting his lip before letting out a slow breath: “I have pictures on my phone. Of the cat, and some random Exy magazine with Boyd’s badly photoshopped face on it that I wanted to send to you. It could fill a whole wing at the damn MOMA at this point. I told you yesterday that I would have driven down to see you. I’m not here to be your sleeping pill, and I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.”

And Neil had inched forwards, dropping his head on Andrew’s shoulder and pressing a kiss against the hinge of his jaw. “It’ll work this time, right?”, he whispered against Andrew’s skin, slightly timid in the face of his own vulnerability. 

“We want it to,” Andrew replied, pushing his nose into Neil’s hair, “We’ll make it work.”

[n] - “i hate this.”

“i’ll be home in ten, i’ll call you.”

[n] - “no, don’t. it’s fine. i’m fine. i just.”

[n] - “i miss you so goddamn much.”

[n] - “i just want to see you. no pixels no phone no anything. just see you”

[n] - “sometimes i wake up and i think you’re there because the blankets you left when you moved out are all bunched up behind me and i can feel them at my back and i go to touch you and there’s nothing.”

[n] - “and it just hurts.” [n] - “but it’s almost worth it because for that split second i think you’re there. i dream about you and then i wake up and for a second you’re actually here.”

[n] - “but you’re not.”

[n] - “i’m sorry. i know you’re busy and this isn’t the right place. and it isn’t your fault. this is all just screwed up.”

“i miss you too”

[n] - “andrew”

“i’ll call you, okay? i’m almost home.” 

“I can’t believe you actually send me a care package.” Andrew drawled, but Neil could hear the undercurrent of amusement and found himself squishing the phone closer to his ear

“I have half your closet in my drawer at this point. Figured it was time to even the score a bit,” he replied, lazily stirring his pasta around and watching the bubbles break at the surface.

“That explains the jersey and the hoodie, but not the rest.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t been missing those bars, the café basically went bankrupt without you buying up their stock.”

 Andrew had gotten weirdly obsessed with the chocolate oat bars the small coffee shop just off campus sold in his fourth year, and Neil blamed Renee entirely. She had dragged him there the first time, after all. Neil still found the occasional crumb in some of his jackets from Andrew smuggling those things, “And the book looked like something you’d be interested in, that’s all.” 

“It is,” Andrew answered after a small pause, and Neil considered how he could manoeuvre around draining his pasta one-handed before he decided to just drag it off the heat. Let it be soggy. The speaker on his phone was rubbish anyway.

Neil leaned back against the counter, absentmindedly rubbing at a stain with his thumb. “Do you like it? Not just the book, the whole thing. I just thought it’s one of those things, right?. I wanted to send you some of my clothes. And I wanted you to have those bars and the book. Just like the pictures.”

Andrew huffed a small breath, his voice quiet, and Neil wanted so badly to just see his face, “Yeah Neil, I liked it.”

They stayed silent. Neil in his shoddy dorm kitchen, his pasta slowly turning cold and mushy, his roommates discarded plate in the sink. He could imagine Andrew in his house, on the couch or just out the back door, twirling a cigarette between his fingers. He had given up smoking before graduating, but his hands still needed something to hold on sometimes. Or maybe he was in his bedroom, the unpacked contents of the package around him. Neil wanted to be there, regardless. 

“The cat toy was unneeded though.” 

“That cat needs something to play with, even I know that.”

“She’s not my cat, Josten.”

“You sent me a picture of her sleeping on your chest literally a week ago.”

“That was confidential.”

“That was adorable, Andrew. I made it my home screen. She’s your cat. Take the damn toy.”

Neil woke up with a start, only realizing his phone vibrating on the bedside table had woken him up after a second of startled panic, picking it up and squinting at the brightness of the screen

[andrew] - “can i call you?”

He hit call on Andrew’s number before he could even think about it, dread rising back up at the back of his throat. 

“Neil.” Andrew’s voice was low, and it took Neil a moment to place the forced calm in it. 

“Hey,” he replied softly, scooting out of bed quietly and making his way to the couch in the living room. There was a blanket on there that Nicky had left behind when he went back to Germany that always reminded Neil of him, and he wrapped his legs in it now, “Hey, I’m here.”

There was nothing on the line apart from Andrew’s shallow, fast breathing, so familiar to Neil after years of sleeping in the same bed and waking up to nightmares creeping at the edge of the window. 

“D’you want me to talk?”, he asked, voice soft and quiet both for the sake of his roommates and Andrew.

Neil could hear Andrew shifting, the almost-not-there sound of his feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom as he went over to the window, the slight creak in the handle as he turned it to let some air in. 

“Yeah. Talk.”

“Dan stopped by today, she was on her way to a conference,” Neil knew this game from too much practice, knew the exact sort of topics and tone to use, “Some of the freshmen wanted to pin her down and force her to be our new coach, but I guess that’s what happens if you don’t know her drills” 

He could hear Andrew huffing and felt himself relax the tiniest bit. Reactions were good, and he didn’t know if he could live with himself if his voice wasn’t enough tonight. 

So he kept talking, about Dan’s commentary on the team’s form, about her ruffling his hair when she hugged him goodbye, about the pictures Allison had sent him from her trip to Portugal. 

Nothing too complicated, nothing too emotional. Nothing about how he’d had a nagging worry at the back of his head all day when Andrew didn’t reply to his messages, or the fact that he had once again found himself staring at the prices for last minute plane tickets, toying with the idea, the team and school be damned. Neil could see the clock in the corner lazily shifting from 2 to 3 am, and settled in deeper into the couch cushions. 

“Oh, and Dan brought me something, actually,” he found himself saying, the end of the sentence trailing off into the darkness of the room.

“What did she bring you?” Andrew asked, his voice rough but had lost the tension that was all over it just 15 minutes ago. 

“Some pictures, of your graduation party.” Neil could basically feel the slight hitch on Andrew’s next breath and leaned his forehead on his drawn up knees. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but the night apparently made him lose his head just a little bit. “She hadn’t sorted through them yet when she was here the last time, but she found a few she thought we might want. She’ll send the rest to Nicky and Aaron.” 

Dan had mentioned the rest of the pictures, of Nicky in his sparkly graduation cap chugging a bottle of champagne at 3am and Aaron falling asleep on the couch next to his twin, snuggling an oversized plush toy bear dressed as a doctor that the cheerleaders had gifted him. But Neil had only nodded, staring at the pieces off glossy photo picture she had stuffed into his hands. 

“There’s a few of us,” he started, clearing his throat slightly, “On the armchair. I don’t really remember it, it must have been late.”

“During the karaoke.” Neil could basically see him, the faint light from the streetlights spilling on his hair, the cowlick near his ear that always appeared after sleeping, the crinkles in his old faintly blue sleep shirt and he closed his eyes, willing to keep the longing at bay. 

“Probably,” he replied, shifting his head on his knees so he wouldn’t muffle the phone, “they’re not perfect, some of them are out of focus and the colours are all weird from the lights the girls dragged in but,” he cut himself off, pressing his mouth closed. This had never been supposed to be so hard. 

He could hear Andrew breathing out again before his voice came through the phone, “You were in my lap, sideways. You had been wound up all day, but you were relaxed then. Laughing at Boyd murdering Holding Out For A Hero. There was glitter in your hair from all the horrid party hats. Your shirt kept slipping off your shoulder because you mixed them up and put on the bigger one that morning.”

“You kissed me,” Neil whispered, not wanting to interrupt Andrew but the words slipping out anyway, “When Nicky and Katelyn were doing Summer Nights. Dan got it in the background. Everyone’s looking at the two of them, but we’re just. There. Together. Your hands are under my shirt”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Andrew said, and the words seemed to crackle in hundreds of miles between them. 

“I didn’t want you to leave either,” Neil replied, feeling his heart clench, “I thought about that night a lot, you know. When we were,” he paused, biting his lower lip, “Not us.”

“Me too.” There was a pause before Andrew spoke again, his voice just a bit less vulnerable than a minute ago. Neil admired his ability to try and dredge them up from below, “Give some of them to me, when I’m coming down.”

“Two weeks,” Neil smiled slightly, half bitter half happy, at the mention of Andrew’s nearing visit. There was a countdown on his phone, but hearing it made it seem more real. 

“Two weeks.” 

Neil sat up, trying to blow the hair off his forehead. It was almost 3:30 am, but he knew he couldn’t just go back to sleep now, and he knew Andrew would be feeling the same way. 

“Hey, you wanna watch a movie?” he asked, already pushing the blanket off his legs, “I just need to get my laptop.”

Andrew huffed, “Yeah, I do. My choice, though. I’m not watching another Mission Impossible.”

“Admit it, you like them,” Neil said, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth while he got up and padded to the desk to retrieve his laptop. 

“Lies and slander,” 

A few minutes later Neil was curled up again, his laptop on his legs and the phone on speaker on his shoulder, the world not looking quite as blurry with the shine of the laptop screen and the sound of Andrew navigating the Netflix menu through the speaker. 

“Hey, Neil?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re trying. We’re making it work.”

“I know. And just two more weeks. I don’t think I’ll let you leave the room.”

“And what if I want to say hello to our darling coach?”

“I think you’ll be quite happy here, with me.”

There was a pause before Andrew’s reply came back, sending a river of molten sunshine through Neil’s core, “Yeah, I guess I will be.”

[franeridart]

Jack says "ignored YOUR rule". Does that mean it's something Bakugou obligates himself not to have or something non of them can have? I'm actually curious 🤔

It’s actually a rule Bakugou put down for himself for a number of reasons, half related to his own safety and the safety of the person he’s dating, the other half to the fact that Bakugou hates lying, but (again for safety reasons) he can’t just go around telling everyone what he’s doing - he doesn’t want a relationship in which he’d just contantly lie to his partner and ditch them for vigilante work without being able to explain them what’s going on, so he put down the rule as soon as he decided he wanted to do this. Well, he hadn’t been interested in relationships anyway before Kirishima, so it was an easy decision to take at the time - now though...

Ahhhh if only he figured out Kiri and Red are the same person smh that’d make everything so much easier on him

Anon said:When you draw Jiro and Bakugo having platonic hugs and cuddles my bi heart becomes incredibly soft THANK YOUUUUUUU

I’M HAPPY TO HEAR THAT cause honestly that’s as self-indulgent as I go hahaha

Anon said:The vigilante au is so far sad but I could totally see it going in a miraculous ladybug kinda direction. What if they tried putting distance between themselves and suddenly found that they're falling again, for the vigilante forms this time because "oh sh*t he's cute in every way Kirishima is" and "He's just my type too, Bakugou-- *sigh* I could use some moving on from him." Or only Kirishima moves to vigilante!Baku but he remains stuck on kiri..//Or what if like, vigilante! Kiribaku are about to get caught by a hero and Kirishima opens up about his last regret of not getting to see his crush one last time after they set distance between themselves, while Bakugou listens and...

That’s!!!! a lot of ideas you got there hahaha I’m glad you’re having fun with the concept!!!!!!

Anon said:That vigilante au is amazing. You really express emotions well in comics.

AAAAAHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH that!!!! honestly means the world to me *sob*

Anon said:I just want to say you're really cool and I like you art uh- K bye

Thank!!!!!!!!!!! YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Oh damn. I think i fall in love for your Vigilantes AU. Please don't stop. I really love it❤️

I mean, as long as you guys are okay with it being a bit all over the place and also being just pencil doodles, then I got no problems doing that right now haha thank you for liking it!!

Anon said:I love your vigilantes AU so much 😍😍😍😍

THANKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:LET THEM BE HAPPY !!!!

THAT’S THE PLAN!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:May I ask how you draw bakugous hair so well?? I just can’t seem to get the right amount of poof (or should I say BOOM💥 )

oHO I’m glad you like it cause actually the answer is I spent two years drawing it nearly daily and I finally sorta reached a place when I guess I’m okay with how I draw it lol some time ago I drew a step by step for it? but by now my process is mostly “do whatever and hope for the best”, which incidently is also my process in drawing Kirishima’s hair lmao

Anon said:Im a bit confused with the vigilante kiri, does he have black hair in his civilian form and red in his hero form?

YEH it’s one of the reasons why Bakugou still hasn’t figured out Red is Kiri haha thought if you’re asking for the logistics of that, I can’t say I spent too long thinking about it? We can always call it temporary hair dye spry or something like that, but to be fair it’s not like it matters all that much lmao I just needed Baku to be unable to tell it was him easily haha

Anon said:I love ur gem Au! :D are you gonna make more? Its okay if not :)

As I’ve said literally every single time I’ve answered asks since I posted it, MAYBE yes! The thing about that AU is that I love it and I have fun with it, but posting it ended up being the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, so honestly I don’t know when I’m gonna draw it if I’ll draw it, but the possibility is there

Anon said:Hello! I just wanted to say I have love reading your comics and your art is amazing-- but I especially love your vigilantes AU! Thank you so much for sharing it with us!!!

HECK thank you!!!! I’m so happy you’re enjoying it ;O;

Anon said:Why must you hurt us? I started crying at that vigilante au comic..

*passes u a blanket* I’ll try not to make it as sad in the future!

Anon said:Hi! I've purchased the take my hand book about a month ago, just wondering how long it takes for it to be delivered??? BTW I live in NZ so I understand if it takes a while~

Heck sorry anon but I’m so not good with dates, you should check the @takemyhandzine blog for that sorta stuff! Thank you so much for buying it tho!!!! ;O;

Anon said:Is Nico a cinnamon roll or a sinnamon roll?

That......... depends a lot on who you ask :0

Anon said:I love bnha more and more with every new character out. All that's left is to ask, which minor character is currently your favorite? (***That isn't from UA because that is a much bigger dilemma)

oUCH it would have been easier picking from UA actually since I’m pretty sure Amajiki is it hahaha well, if I can’t pick from UA...................... you know what, probably Shishikura

Anon said:Bakujiro friendship is something I didn’t know I NEEDED. U do good work bro

I’M SO GLAD YOU CAN GET BEHIND THAT!!!!!

Anon said:Your art gives me life!!! Every time you post is just so unique in every way :00000 ❤️ anyway i just wanted to let you know that you’re inspiring in every way and that I absolutely adore your kiribaku art to the moon and back!!!

SOB thank you so much???? You’re so sweet!!!! ;O;

Anon said:FRAN!!! YOUR LATEST KIRIBAKU ART KILLED ME (in a good way) HONESTLY YOU IMPROVED SO MUCH SINCE I FIRST STARTED FOLLOWING YOU, IT MOTIVATES ME TO KEEP DRAWING!! THANK YOU

HELL ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH I’M SO GLAD MY FUMBLING AROUND IN THE ART WORLD IS INSPIRING FOR YOU ???? LET’S BOTH KEEP DOING OUR BEST!!!!!

Anon said:fran you could convince me to ship anything with one (1) drawing

Since I got this ask I’ve been trying to find the most outrageous ship just to draw it and test this theory.......... I still haven’t found something outrageous enough but.... soon

Anon said:Hi your art is amazing also beautiful As you probably might know there is a traitor in the show, if you didn't know well then im sorry for spoiling. May I request a traitor kirishima

nnnnnnnggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sorry anon but the traitor theory arts are stuff I just can’t get behind, mostly so if it’s my fav characters - I don’t find it credible and I don’t find any joy in dwelling in the idea, so I got zero motivation to draw for it orz

Anon said:I can't believe you made me read the phrase "startle and explosion out of baku". (Yay for the vigilantes AU!)

LMAO he’s actually trying to do just that tho, maybe I’ll draw it hahaha

Anon said:Please! I need more BakuKiriKami fan art! I’m gunna die without it!

Anon I’m gonna be very real with you here my first reaction to reading this ask was thinking “then perish”

Anon said:Hello! I don't know if you've gotten this question before but have you ever considered drawing the villains?

I’ve drawn Dabi and Twice in the past! I’m not really much intereste in any other villain atm tho so I doubt I’m gonna be drawing them any time soon ^^’’

Anon said:You are by far my favorite artist. Your Kiribaku gives life to my bleak exsistence. Thank you. I bought some of your things of redbubble to make me happy!

AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Hello! I'm a big fan of your work and your kiribaku fluff especially, and I've been working on a (not so innocent) fic about Bakugou having burnt marshmallow smelling and tasting sweat, (funny how nitroglycerin is a natural lubricant, tastes and smells like burnt sugar, and is explosive) just wanted to know if you ever thought about it? also wanted to know if you'd like to read my finished fic, should be done real soon and it would mean a lot to know what you think about it!

Anon I’m so sorry but I really can’t say yes to this - especially because you said it means a lot to you, you’re putting me in a spot here where in case I didn’t like it I wouldn’t be able to tell you so anyway (and I generally don’t like talking about fancontent I don’t give a 10/10 to anyway, it’s too rude for me) and I’m sure it’s gonna be a great fic! But by the way you talked about it it’s gonna be a nsfw fic and I really rarely like those fics, so !!! orz I’m sorry, but this is a really uncomfortable request for me ;;;

Anon said:Can I use your art real quick if I hard out credit u? It's alright if I can't

Nope, sorry

Anon said:Could you draw another doodle of Setsuna?. I love how you draw her jfvdkd ;;v;; (Sorry if my English is trash.)

Not right now, but in the future yeah sure, I love her!

Anon said:Your Kirishima is so beautiful i fucking cry omg ;-; thank you for brightening my morning.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; thank you for liking how I draw him !!!!

Anon said:💛💛💛💛 Thank you for sharing your art, it always makes my day

Thank YOU for liking it!!!!!

Anon said:In your SU AU what if a gem offers to replace Kiri with a 'newer, better pearl'? How would Bakugo react?

Actually, Kiri was given to Bakugou specifically because he’s sorta defective, it was punishment for both of them that sorta backfired lmao 

Anon said:hi there! I'm new to your blog and I love your art style immensely! I saw somewhere with your latest seroroki post that you're still finding your main todoship; I hope I dont sound rude or pushy, but can I ask your opinions about todo*aku and/or tod*kir*baku? If not, thank you for your time! Keep up the great work!!

Still not completely sold on romantic tdbk tbh (platonic tho, that’s my jam) but I’ve been real into the ot3 lately!!! It just can’t be my main todo ship bc I still prefer krbk too much over it haha

Anon said:I loveeee your art, especially your kiribaku stuff! But consider! Size difference! What if Kirishima grows a lot but our lil' Baku doesn't? Does he get jealous or does he really like it? There'd be some epic hugs/kisses! What if he secretly loves getting picked up by Kirishima? XD

Oh that’s an hc I see around a lot! Personally I stil prefer them sorta the same size tho ???? with the only difference being Baku being lithe and Kiri being a tank, I think it has to do with the whole “complementary equals” theme they have going on, I like for it to be visually represented too ??? maybe, I had never really thought about the hows or whys of this preference tbh lmao

Anon said:Hey so I'm not up to date with BNHA but in your asks there was a thing about dragon boy having a zombie costume? I had another look at what I think is the right doodle and to me it looks like a Chinese vampire costume! (unless that's not the one you guys were talking about oops)

Nope that’s him, and you’re right!!! Either way my boy still hasn’t done anything worth of note, so I still don’t know why he’s dressed like that orz Hori plssss

[fialleril]

Please feel free to ignore this if you don't have anything you feel like parting with at the moment, but I'm having a bad mental health day and would really appreciate a snippet. I don't have a preference for anything in particular, except maybe something where someone is justified in their anger (aka like 3/4th of everything you write, which tbh is probably my favorite part of your fics - I love it when characters are allowed to be angry). I'd be happy with anything though really

Hi anon! I’m really sorry I’m replying to this late, but I hope you found some good coping strategies and I hope that you’ll still find something good in this snippet, late as it is.

Also I’m both amused and delighted by your description of my writing priorities. :)

So this is a bit from fairly early on in Anabasis, though it’s a bit spoilery for all that.

I’ve posted a lot of the bits with Anakin being angry, so here for a change of pace is some angry Padmé.

In which Padmé confronts the Jedi Council and meets Shmi and Kitster.

There’s nothing at all explicit here, but just to be safe, warnings for implications of harm to children and slavery.

The Council was still gathered when Padmé burst through thegreat doors, trailed by two distraught Jedi padawans, still trying to convinceher that the Council Chamber was off limits, and by a resigned Obi-Wan Kenobi.Sabé followed after them all, managing to keep up without breaking her leisurelystroll.

The five other members of the Council all looked up at herappearance, their eyes narrowing in disapproval, all except for Yan Dooku, whowas openly smirking. But all of Padmé’s attention was for the two who stood inthe center of the room, the woman and her son, who spun now to face her, swiftand silent in a way that was all too familiar.

Padmé stared at the woman. She was worn and drab and hereyes held an anger and a sorrow so deep that it had turned to silence. She hadAnakin’s face.

Her eyes were brown, not blue, and her hair was darker whereit wasn’t grey, but the resemblance was unmistakable. It was like looking atAnakin through a strangely distorted mirror.

Behind her, Padmé heard Sabé’s faint but audible sound ofsurprise. There could be no question about who this woman was.

“Most irregular this is, Senator Amidala,” said Yoda,frowning.

Padmé drew herself up with her most regal bearing and glaredat each of the Jedi in turn.

“It seems, Master Jedi,” she said, “that you have beenwithholding information relevant to my investigation.”

The atmosphere in the room grew distinctly colder.“Cooperated fully with the Senate, this Council has,” said Yoda.

“And will continue to do so,” added Mace. His eyes narrowed.“What is it you believe we’ve withheld, Senator?”

Padmé glanced at Shmi and Kitster. They were standing stiffand straight, close beside one another but not touching. It was a protectivestance, defiant but not afraid. These were people used to having the worldagainst them.

“It’s come to my attention,” said Padmé, “that the Jedi wereaware of Anakin’s presence on Tatooine. That he was identified as a child byMaster Ki-Adi-Mundi, and left there as a slave.” She paused, swallowing backthe horror of her own reflection, and met Master Windu’s eyes unflinchingly.“It’s my belief, based on the available evidence, that Palpatine was able todiscover Anakin because of the Jedi’s report.”

Shmi stiffened, her face turning to stone. Kitster claspedher hand and stared at Padmé with wide eyes.

“Palpatine?” Shmi whispered. “You mean the Emperor? The Emperor took my son?”

The Jedi looked at one another, but they said nothing.

Padmé met the other woman’s eyes with compassion, but herwords were cool and clipped. “Yes. He did.”

She turned on the Jedi, her eyes blazing. “Did you everintend to tell me, Master Jedi? Or did you think this was somehow irrelevant tothe Senate’s investigation?”

Mace Windu’s face was thunderous, while Yoda’s eyes hadnarrowed sharply and Obi-Wan looked openly distressed. Madame Nu and MasterGallia held more neutral expressions, yet they too seemed disturbed. But it wasDooku who spoke.

“I think you give us too much credit, Milady,” he said, notunkindly. “The vergeance that Master Mundi encountered on Tatooine was, forbetter or worse, merely a footnote in his report. I don’t believe anyone hasconnected that child with our Sith Lord until this very moment. Are youabsolutely certain they are the same?”

Padmé opened her mouth, ready to present her evidence, butbeside her Shmi had tensed and stood now thrumming with barely controlledemotion.

“Of course I’m certain!” Anakin’s mother snapped. “He is my son. I knew him then, and I know him now,even if he doesn’t remember me. I will always know him.” She trembled as shespoke, but her voice was steady and hard as steel. “I wanted a better life forhim. He deserved better than a slave’s life. And when the Jedi sent MasterMireus, when he said they’d reconsidered,I sent Anakin with him. I wanted him to be free.”

Padmé breathed in sharply, and at the sound all the rigidityseemed to melt from the older woman’s bones. Shmi gasped, her legs staggeringbeneath her, and Kitster caught her and held her against his chest, though hisown arms were trembling. They held each other up, shaking and sobbing like twotrees in a storm, and Padmé watched them, all her words forgotten.

“I sent him,” Shmi whispered, over and over again, a brokenlitany. “I sent him.”

Padmé started forward, and caught herself. She thought ofthe little boy in Senator Palpatine’s apartments all those years ago, with hisstrange and terrible eyes and the blood on his hands.

There was nothing she could say to this woman.

“Very troubling, this information is,” said Master Yodasoftly. “But deceit is the way of the Sith.”

Padmé tore her eyes from Shmi and Kitster Banai and turnedto stare at the Jedi. She hardly recognized the emotion that was roiling in hergut, but a laughing little voice in the back of her mind that sounded far toomuch like Anakin told her the Jedi wouldn’t like it.

Master Yoda was watching her closely with slow blinkingeyes, compassion gentling his aged face. The others appeared equally concerned,and equally removed. For the first time, Padmé realized that they might not betroubled for the same reasons she was, and the thought burned in her.

“And inattentiveness is the way of the Jedi, it seems,” shesnapped, too tired and far too horrified to hold her tongue. “If you’ll excuseme, Master Jedi, I need to make a report to the Senate. And this time, Anakin Skywalker will be morethan a footnote.”

She turned on her heel and stormed toward the door, ignoringthe words of the Jedi that followed her, ignoring the footsteps that indicatedObi-Wan, at least, intended to see her out.

But she stopped at the door, caught and held by someinvisible bond, and looked back.

Shmi and Kitster still stood in the center of the Councilchamber, looking small and alone in that immense space, their frail figureshaloed in the midafternoon light streaming through the many windows. Shmi wasshaking still, but Kitster had turned to watch Padmé, and his eyes met hersnow, dark and knowing.

If Anakin had been a footnote, these two had been utterlyforgotten. She was not about to make the same mistake.

“I would like to speak with you both,” she said, holdingKitster’s eyes and willing him to understand. “If you’re free?”

“This audience hasn’t ended, Senator,” said Mace Windusharply, but Kitster was already nodding.

“I think it has,” he said, speaking over his shoulder to themembers of the Jedi Council. “Come on, Mom. We won’t learn anything else here.”

“Padmé,” said Dooku, almost apologetically, but Padmé turnedaway from him and all the Jedi and marched out the door, Sabé falling in besideher and Kitster and Shmi following. Obi-Wan would follow too, she had no doubt,but she would deal with him later.

The corridor outside the Council chambers was deserted butfor a young Togruta girl who stood huddled into herself under her traditionalJedi robes. Padmé’s gaze lit on her briefly, and the girl looked away,something flashing in her eyes.

“Ahsoka,” she heard Obi-Wan say behind her, “you shouldn’t behere.”

If he was distracted, all the better. Padmé spared a silentthanks to the young padawan, and sped on down the corridor, wanting to lose herJedi escort. It was probably hopeless, but even a few moments might allow herto collect herself.

“Thank you,” said a quiet voice at her side, and Padméturned without slowing to find Kitster Banai walking beside her. To his right,Shmi Skywalker watched her with raw, reddened eyes.

“It’s Senator Amidala, isn’t it?” Kitster asked, smilingpolitely. But there was something guarded behind his gaze.

“Yes,” Padmé said, offering a warm smile of her own. “Andyou’re Kitster Banai. I saw you in TheTragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise.” She hesitated. But after all, howcould it hurt? “Anakin loved that play, you know.”

His eyes widened and his smile warmed. “Oh,” he murmured. “I– yes. I’d forgotten he saw it.” But then his face twisted, the smile becominga rictus grin. “I didn’t recognize him. My own brother, and I didn’t – ” Hechoked, and stopped.

Padmé had no idea what to say to him, or to the woman besidehim with her carven face and her shadowed eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said inanely,and then, “The hangar is this way.” It was utterly inadequate, but whateverelse she might have said, she couldn’t say it here.

Shmi seemed to understand. She nodded at Padmé, and now itwas she who took Kitster’s arm. They made their way to the hangar in absolutesilence. Even when Obi-Wan joined them once more, he said nothing, and Padméwas grateful.

[fangsofsin]

I'm not sure what to think of Marks new video. The respect one... I kinda agree but I don't either... help! what do u think fang?

(My opinion and feelings are just my opinions and feelings. They may vary from yours and that’s okay. Please talk to me if you have a different thought. Any hate or bashing will be ignored in favor of having a calm and collected adult conversation or debate. I am open to either)

While I’m not sure why everyone issuddenly asking my opinion on these things, I appreciate that youwant to hear whatever the heck I have to say. So I guess I’ll justget on and tell you why I feel Mark had a good idea, but not a goodargument.

Remember back when I made theSeptiplier post and I mentioned that Mark and Jack have goodchemistry but that doesn’t make them best friends or anything? Thesame goes with Mark and Felix. I’m bringing this up right now becauseall damn day – since the video posted – I’ve been seeing peoplesay “Mark’s gonna defend his best friend but as a best friend heshould’ve called Felix out on what he did”…  

Where did anyone get the idea thatFelix and Mark are best friends? Again, they work well together andthey like hanging together. But that doesn’t make them best friends.It’s never been established that they’re “best friends”… Again.You can have good chemistry with someone but not be the best offriends. They could be friends. But friend and best friend areactually pretty different meanings.

A friend issomeone you have a casual but still personal enough relationship withthat is based on a common ground. Meaning you both like similarthings or dislike similar things and so you become close throughthose likes and dislikes, but it doesn’t always go past that. As fora best friend, that is a title for someone you have deeperrelationship with that passes the boundaries of simply having similartaste in music or whatever drew you to someone. A friend doesn’t havethat big or deep of a connection to you while your best friend doeshave that deep bonding that can even be considered on the same levelas the one you have to your flesh and blood family (or at someone ofthat love and connection level).

As far as we know,Felix and Mark are on the friend level and that means they havesimilar grounds they walk on, but they’re not super personable anddeep with one another. As far as we know.

Now! Even if theyare best friends, what true friend is going to call out – in frontof a digital platform as huge as Mark’s and Felix’s and YouTube ingeneral – another friend like that?! That would be like finding outyour bff is cheating on her man with another guy and you decide tocall her out and point her out to half the student body during like aclass presidential election or something… WTF? How? Why. What aboutthat is right at all? Because that’s exactly what people aresuggesting! They’re suggesting that Mark should have called out Felixon the platform and left him to be stoned by Mark’s fans… That’snot the kind of community Mark is trying to create or wants.

You don’t throwyour friend under the bus like that if you’re a true friend or even atrue best friend. Even if Felix had given Mark the go ahead to callhim out in front of the entire community, that still wouldn’tbe right as a friend or even as a person.

So that argumentaside, the overall video? Well first off, here. I’m that person and Iwent and fucking wrote down the whole speech as best as I could.

Respect… It’ssomething that I feel has been lost, lately.

I even feellike the definition of respect has been muddied a bit. Because peoplehave a tendency to apply it only to accomplishments that they feelare worthy of praise and admiration.

But I’m talkingabout respect on a basic level. Even if you just boil it down tocommon human decency… Is being lost.

The golden rulestill applies. You still need to treat people the way that you wannabe treated.

And you’reseeing it less and less these days.

Because peoplehave an automatic tendency to assume that if someone is disagreeingwith someone, they are their enemy. And they’re inherently bad. Andthey should be fucked.

But you candisagree with someone and still respect them. You can even hatesomeone. You can hate and abhor their actions. They are doingterrible things and they need to be hated… But you still need totreat them with respect.

And that’shard.

And you mayeven be thinking like “How can you do that? That’s not possible.If they are a terrible person they deserve to be treated unfairly.”

And that’s notthe way I want to live.

We are allhumans.

And either weare all humans that are equal and deserve to be treated as equals, orwe’re not. And I know people are probably going to think I amspeaking too generally about this, so I want to get specific.

I’m talkingabout this because of the frenzy that is surrounding Felix. NotPewDiePie. Felix.

And I wanna bevery clear about something. Felix is not an anti-Semitic and Felixdoes not advocate hate. And I’m not even defending the jokes that hemade because even he has apologized for some of the jokes that hedid.

But he as aperson, as an inherent human being… He’s not these labels.

Because it’s soeasy to label someone. It’s so easy to do. It’s so easy to boilsomeone down to a single word or a phrase and that’s all they are.

Even if you’repraising them. I mean, normally, it’s when you’re demonizing them,but even if you are praising them, even if you’re putting someone ona pedestal or if you’re calling them human scum and trash andgarbage, you’re inherently dehumanizing them in both aspects.

And that’ssomething I will never stand for. Never.

‘Cause I havesaid it a million times, over and over I repeat this all the time. Weas YouTubers are the exact same as you. We’re humans. We’re peoplewandering this world, trying to figure out who we are just the sameas you.

And even thoughsomeone like Felix is being attacked and he’s a lightning rod forhate. Whether or not that’s a fault of his own actions or the societywe live in, that doesn’t mtter to me.

Because what Iam talking about is the most basic human element, the one rule I knowvery deep down, is that we are all equal and deserve to be treatedwith respect.

We’re more thanour labels. I don’t give a fuck what the color of your skin is, Idon’t care what religion you believe you believe in, I don’t carewhere you come from or where you are now. All I care about is who youare and whether or not you are free to be able to discover that.

And I’m notjust even talking about Felix now, I am talking generally.

Cause if we areeven going to be more than we are right now. As a society, as apeople, as a species, as Planet Earth… If we’re ever going to bemore than that, we need to, at the most basic level, respect eachother…

And it’s hard.It’s hard to take the high road. It’s a lonely road. No one wants togo that way, cause it’s so easy to seek vengeance. Or apply the“other rule”; An eye for an eye.

Or labelsomeone as a simple word or phrase just to dismiss them.

And, I know,people are even going to twist my words. People are going to say thatI am defending the wrong people or I’m defending bad people or I’mI-I’m spreading hate indirectly because I support other people.

That’s not theway I see the world. I see each and every one of us, not defined byour race or our creed. But each and every one of us a new opportunityto find ourselves, and in order to defend that, I have to advocatethe treatment of everyone as an equal.

If you don’thave that, what’s going to become of us? What’s gonna happen in fiftyyears when the generations that follow us look back and see thattheir forefathers were too afraid to treat each other with the mostbasic level of respect.

I believe… Ibelieve very firmly… That every single person in the world has theability to do something amazing or terrible. To spread love or hate.

And whether ornot they do one or the other depends on us. Depends on us beingstrong enough to take the high road in the face of the worstadversity.

I have so muchhope for people. I have so much hope for this world and I have somuch hope for what we can do to make it a better place. And that’ssomething I will defend to the death

When it comesto dehumanizing someone or anyone, I won’t stand for that. Because atthe end of the day, there’s going to be people that follow us. Andit’s up to you and me to show them what respect really means.

… now if you read that whole thing, props to you. But let me justsay that I am not trying to twist and rip Mark’s words or hisopinions. I’m sharing my overall opinion on what the man is talkingabout. Now… That said.. It may come off as me twisting them orreading them wrong, but we are – as he said – human and interpretthings different. So this is my interpretation of what I think onwhat he has said.

First off, yes. It’s a good place Mark is trying to come from. He hasa very soft heart and a strong belief and he’s always been verypassionate that way and always shared who he is and what he believes.And that’s always been very admirable and good of him… But Mark hasa flaw.

His thought process is all over the place and he comes off aspassionate rambler.

Mark’s overall message is that we need to take the high road and turnthe other cheek and be the better person and give everyone therespect that we ourselves want from others. And that’s not a badview. It’s very hippy like… But it’s not a bad thing to want frompeople, to advocate for.

But the problem with this, is that Mark talks about things in thisvideo that actually are not things we can just turn the other cheekfrom. I’m sorry. Some of these things are not at a state that we canjust ignore or look away from. At least I personally can not lookaway from them.

I don’t give afuck what the color of your skin is, I don’t care what religion youbelieve you believe in, I don’t care where you come from or where youare now. All I care about is who you are and whether or not you arefree to be able to discover that.

That’s great for you, Mark. But for me, personally, these are aspectsthat make up who I am and who you are. Color is a very deeptopic right now. There’s people out in the world literally fightingfor their lives because of the color of their skin. Black advocatesare fighting because of their skin. People are being gunned down,raped, murdered, and many other terrible things,because of their skintone. Is it right? Fuck no! Do I agree that skin shouldn’t make upsomeone? Yes. But is it still a part of what can make up who you arebecause it can effect what lead you to be who you are.

As a white, blonde hair and blue eyed female I have no experiencedoppresion like a black female of the same age as me has. Have Iexperienced limitations because I’m a female? Yes. But have I beenracially set aside and degraded? No. At least not to my fucking face.Black women and men have. They face police fear every day becausesome jackass in a uniform thinks he can gun down whoever he wantsbecause he’s wearing a blue uniform. This is shit that’s happening topeople and it’s because of their skin and when that happens, you canbet that if I was in that skin, I’d be fearful and have a differentview of things than I do now.

Religion is another thing. People still – still, in 2017 –use religion to advocate what they see as right and are attackedbecause of it. Radical Christians use religion to attack the lgbtqa+community on a daily basis. Muslim women are attacked in subways andon the streets and in stores because of their religion. Jews arestill mocked and ridiculed in media because of their religious – orsupposed actions – actions in the past. Religion is a factor inpeoples lives. It’s something people fight with and for every daybecause you have people attacking them for what they believe is theirGod/Gods/Etc. And that shapes you as a person. Your religion and yourexperiences because of your religions, has an effect on who you are.

Where we come from can determine a lot of things. Come from an areawith an abundance of racial slurs and treatment? It effects you onceyou step outside that area or someone new steps into your life. Yougrew up in poverty and come from a poor neighborhood? That effectshow you view and act in the world. You grew up very privileged?Congrats, you’ve grown up effected and get a kick when you see whatothers don’t have that you always neglect. Come from a country youhad to escape because of war? Again, you’re being developed by thatexperience and what it was like to grow up with a country at war.That matters about who you are now because it lead you to take yourroads.

All these, Mark, are what can make and break us to who we are. Yes.We can escape some one these. Like where we grew up? We can run fromit (or try to anyway). We can run from our religion or even turn ourback on it. That’s something we can do… But it’s still something wedid. Something that’s a part of what lead us to be where we are now.

At least that’s how I’ve always seen things. I grew up with parentsthat had me too young and were always fighting and even recall copscoming to my house to separate them. I was bullied and isolated onthe playground and in my classrooms as a disease because I was “odd”and considered dirty or poor and disgusting for reasons I can’t tothis day pinpoint why and reasons that followed me all the way toeven college. I had a farm to grow up on. I was sheltered from a lotof things and came off as ignorant because of it. My mother didn’thave patience to teach me anything so she would get mad at me and domy homework for me because she thought she was helping me when reallyit fucked me up later in high school and college. I grew up withracist family members and got hit in school because I was nevertaught that calling someone a certain slur – not the n-word butsomething just as bad – was a bad thing and got a black eye andbeat up by a girl because I said that to her. I stole money fromsomeones purse once because I didn’t have money for food and hadn’teaten in two days and was getting sick. I broke down in a churchbecause, even if I’m not that religious, the sermon I was at wasbeautiful and made me realize I was depressed and I had beensuppressing it. I watched a black student get passed over for a partin the play that she would have murdered, because she wasn’t “theright type” and they picked a bubble gum barbie white girl for therole.

These are things in my past. These are things that my color, where Icame from, and what my mild religious belief, have done that matterto me now. Stealing that money made me learn to better respect everyvalue of a dollar I have. Getting beat down and seeing that blackstudent get passed over made me respect that the POC communityhandles so much shit and they are fed up with it and they have aright to be punching back. Being sheltered came back and got mebullied more than what I was by the time I hit middle school.

So I don’t like when someone says anything like what was said.Because while that shit shouldn’t matter, it does. It makes up a partof you. And every part of you means something important and tellsyour story. Just like the scars you get, these are the scars andmarkings on your inner self that make you who you are and to just say“I don’t fucking care about that shit” is – to me –like saying you don’t give a fuck about me.

Now I’m sure he was talking about the content of your personality.But even still, your personality is based around what you have takenfrom these aspects of yourself. My religious or lack of have shapedparts of how I act. My being bullied has made me not want to ever bea bully and to fight anyone who tries to bully me or people I careabout. My racial stupidity choices have made me want to be a bettersupporter and to make myself learn and be educated as a bettersupport for the POC community. Where I grew up has made me see partsof what I want to be and want to not be and why I pushed myself tomove out to California; to be here and gain a new aspect of mypersonality to grow with the one I have or make it better.

Now maybe I’m twisting the words to harshly. But the moment he saidthat, I frowned and this – above – is what came to mind. It’swhat I see. And again, I could be just jumping conclusions and I cantake a breather and realize that he could’ve meant something entirelydifferent.

But that’s what I mean when I say Mark gets a bit scattered. Some ofthe stuff he says… When you’re someone who has a large communitylike him or Felix or any of the big YouTubers, your actions and wordsand views do get analyzed. You’re not some random on the street.You’re a face and a voice for a platform and so your words matter.Your actions matter. And they get heard. And like I said, everyonehas an opinion and can hear the same sentence I heard and read itcompletely different.

It’s like that old saying that if you put someone of every religiousbelief in a circle in a room and you hand them a Holy Bible and makethem read it, they’re all going to interpret it one way or anotherand the debate about it could last for years. It’s that same concept.What they write and say does do something and does have power.

But you candisagree with someone and still respect them. You can even hatesomeone. You can hate and abhor their actions. They are doingterrible things and they need to be hated… But you still need totreat them with respect.

This statement kind of threw me off… And I see it did to a lot ofpeople.

If someone is indeed “the scum of the earth” - words Mark used –and they’re doing things from child pornography, rape, murdering, andall of the above… I will not respect them. I will not respect menwho beat on women or women who beat on men. I will not respectsomeone who defiles an innocent toddler for their satisfaction. Iwill not respect someone who murdered someone in cold blood. I willnot respect those that spit and piss on the memory of blacks or Jewsor any race or religion that was wiped out because of simply whatthey are or what they were born as. I will not.

Mark’s message is a good thought in simplistic form. And he says thebasic form of respect is what he’s talking about… But does he notknow what the basic definition of respect is?

Respect, according to the dictionary, is “a feeling of deepadmiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities,qualities, or achievements” (noun). Abilities are somethingyou can naturally do at will. (Ex: “I have the ability to roll mytongue”). They are things you are born with. This is often confusedwith talent, which can be learned while a natural ability can notalways be

Qualities – or quality – is defined as “a distinctive attributeor characteristic possessed by someone or something” (Ex: “He hasthe qualities that one would give a strong leader”). Your qualitiescan be learned and taught from your past experiences and from yourown research. Which, again, goes back to your past and where you comefrom and what you do with that.

And achievements is “a thing done successfully, typically byeffort, courage, or skill”. (Ex: “To reach this stage in lifeis a great achievement”). An achievement is technically part of thebasic element of respect. To say people focus on just achievements istrue, but to say you’re talking about just the basic element ofrespect means you’re still talking about your achievements…

To give someone respect is to give them a kindness of sort. When yourespect someone, you see their achievements and qualities andabilities as something to look up to or something you yourself wantto work towards becoming. Like I respect my friend Katie becauseshe’s a strong person, she’s achieved so much with what little she’shad to work with, and she’s got this natural ability (or talent ifyou want to be technical) to adapt to life as it is thrown at her. Igive her respect also because she’s a good person to me and others.

Now what about people that I don’t even know? Well I respect Beyoncefor all the hard work she’s done, all the fighting for POC sheadvocates, and for just being a strong person on stage and off andnot taking shit from no one… Now do I know Beyonce personally? Ofcourse not (I fucking wish though!). But right now, as I see her, Irespect her… Now if I met Beyonce and she turned out to be superrude, fake, or super negative… That’ll effect my respect for her. Ican still respect how hard she works and what she’s done. But as aperson, that aspect changes. As a person, I would start to see her asrude or ungrateful or even appalling.

A person’s actions and deeds can be worth of respect. But if a personis a complete and total appalling jackass of an existing amount offlesh, then that changes things. So maybe I get what Mark is sayingin that sense. That someone could have done all these important andadmirable and amazing things for society or I  general, but in personthey’re just the nastiest human being on the planet… Then yeah. Ican see where respect even when you hate them as a person can comefrom.

But to give respect to those that have no qualities or achievementsor abilities that benefit society or even another person and beingcompletely hideous as a person and does despicable actions likementioned above (rape, molestation, assaulting, etc), is notsomething I as an individual can be on board with. Because it justplain makes me wanna scrub my skin off to look at someone who doesterrible deeds and treats others and animals with such abhorringnature, and be told I have to respect them because you’re supposed torespect everyone… No.

I was raised to respect those that treat me with respect. I wastaught that to get respect you have to earn respect. If I want peopleto respect me, I have to respect who people are and who they were andcan become. The same goes for people towards me. That is how I wasraised. That is what I believe. I give everyone around me respectuntil you give me a reason not to. So if someone doesn’t give me areason not to, then we’re good. I will respect you and I hope you cantreat me with the same grain of existence.

This was my problem with Mark’s speech. It seemed so contradicting.The overall message – and yes I’m using his words – as a basic,is a good one. But it doesn’t eliminate that everyone reads intothings differently and acts towards things differently. And yes hementioned people would twist his words and maybe I am doing justthat. Do I feel like I am? No. But it’s a high possibility I’mtwisting what he’s saying and for that I am sorry but I will believewhat I believe.

Now. All that being said, I agree with Mark on many things as well. Ibelieve to dehumanize someone – at least to do so without a trulylegit reason – is disgusting and not what we should ever do tosomeone. I stand with the belief that Felix is not anti-Semitic andthat he’s not trying to spread hate. I believe we are more thanlabels and that labels just complicate things in the long run but Ialso know labels are around to try and make things easier to box usall in to categories and we as humans are not meant to be generalizedto one category. And I believe that every person as an individual inthis world, does have the ability to do something amazing or terriblethat can effect humanity. And I have hope that yes, one day, theworld can be a better place than it is right now.

But that day is not today. Someday, maybe. But it’s not right now.And we can’t ignore that right now things are the way they are for areason.

P,ease don’t take this as me hating on the man. I in no way hate him or even think he’s wrong. I just feel strongly about some things he said… It’s like he mentioned. You can disagree with someone without hating them. I don’t hate him. I just am not on the full boat he’s sailing.