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jokeroutsubs · 2 years ago

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Bojan on the cover of Astro Suzy, special summer edition of Suzy Magazine, focusing on astrology and spirituality. Scans and ENG Translation by: @kurooscoffee Cover Title:

Bojan Cvjetičanin: "We have a duty to change things for the better"

Article title:

We are driven by our love of life

WITH JOKER OUT, WE HAVE WITNESSED A MENTAL LEAP AND A SOCIAL PHENOMENON THAT WE HAVE LONGED FOR. THE BOYS GIVE HOPE THAT YOUNG PEOPLE ARE CONNECTING INTO A STRONG COMMUNITY THAT CARES ABOUT THE FUTURE, EVEN THOUGH PREVIOUS GENERATIONS HAVE LEFT THEM IN RUINS. IN A FLOOD OF STARLETS AND ARTIFICIALLY CREATED ONLINE INFLUENCERS, WE GOT ROLE MODELS WHO DON'T OFFER DISCOUNT CODES, BUT IMPORTANT MUSICAL MESSAGES ABOUT VALUES. IN THE MIDDLE OF A SLOVENIAN AND EUROPEAN TOUR, THE LEAD SINGER AND VISUAL OF THE BAND SHARED WITH US WHAT HE'S THINKING ABOUT, WHAT CAUSES HE'S STANDING BEHIND, AND WHY IT'S BENEFICIAL TO DEEPEN YOUR SPIRITUAL KNOWLEDGE. What are you thinking about as representatives of the new wave, the new generation? What is your attitude towards the dynamics in society, climate change, pervasive social networks, in short, everything that weighs on modern man? On the one hand, we ourselves are involved in all the processes that actively and continuously prolong the problems you are talking about. On the other hand, we are deeply aware of them and we are afraid of what is coming. It seems to me that in our generation the desire for change is very strong. There is a universal language of youth that has come together on the basis of feeling obliged and able to change things for the better. The song New Wave is about just that. We are ready to celebrate this common strength because we are encouraged by the idea that we are not alone. At the same time, we know that we are compelled to do something because someone before us has seriously 'fucked up'.

In your hit song 'Novi Val' (New Wave), already the very first verse has you wonder where to go from here. Do you know the answer?

If we want to do anything other than burn the horizon, the only way is towards community, away from egocentrism, with an onlook towards common good.

Let's stick to the anthem of the generation of love, as you named your peers and loyal supporters. The phrase 'We were born yesterday and everything is already our fault' is powerful and worrying. You have been given a pitiful lagecy by your ancestors. How do you defend yourself from taking a role of a victim and instead get actively involved in creating a brighter future?

Great question! It would be hard to change anything for the better if we put on the victim's cloak. The fact that in recent years it has become clear that there is a rebellion by people who have had enough is already a cause for optimism. When you put yourself in the role of the one who carries a scepter as a synonym of the leader of change, you move away from being a victim. And each one of us in this community carries it. In reality, we are taking the position that society is currently a victim and it is our task to defend it.

How?

We all contribute in our own way. The role of musicians is to connect people with positive messages. So by constantly reminding people about friendship, love and other social components that can be tapped into through music. In Slovenia, we have a lot of organisations that are trying to change the situation for the better in many different ways. It does not require much to at least educate oneself about what these organisations are doing. I have the feeling that many people would like to get involved and help. At the end of grammar school and at college, we were encouraged to find out about collective organisations. It was clear to them that many people would want to join of their own initiative once they knew what they stood for. I know many former classmates who are very active members and supporters of various movements. Even if we minimise our own negative energy on social networks, it is a big step towards a good state of society, and of mind.

(picture 1: Family Cvjetićanin knows how to stick together)

You seem to care about a world that is increasingly drowning in chaos. You have become idols, not only of young people, but also of their parents. Is this a burden of responsibility or does it encourage you do even more activism?

It's a great feeling when the little ones take you for an idol. As a teenager, it was also inspiring to be surrounded by the music of Big Foot Mama and Siddharta. It gave me a message in a language that I could not compare with anything else. But our creativity does not depend on what people think of us or how they perceive us. But it is a great honour to know that you are one of those who encourage someone. Many people are listening, but not hearing. Joker Out is made up of five individuals who, in real life, when the cameras and the spotlights are off, are just normal guys. We went through all the processes of growing up on the streets, socialising and playing. We went through the process of going to school, and we were not problematic adolescents. Even today, our most extreme departure from an ideal is what 99% of young people do. To party sometimes. We are not outlaws by nature.

Your work is a beacon of light, a source of hope and strength. Many have done it before you, especially the Beatles. A lot has changed since their era, much of it unfortunately for the worse. How do you keep optimistic? Why is it worth the effort?

Every musician in history who has sung about ending war and living for love has failed miserably. I believe that at least those people who follow the messenger are convinced of peace and love. If every musician encourages someone to to do so, it's a hefty amount of opponents of hate. We are driven forward by love for life.

Writing texts is a responsible job, and you are baring your soul at the same time. Where is the line, to what lengths are you willing to go to protect the most vulnerable part of yourself?

I have never consciously inhibited the process of looking inside myself. But I feel that with age and experience I understand more and more what can lead me to a deeper state of mind. In the beginning I didn't dare to dig into myself. Today I have no problem in fully exposing my feelings, because they are, after all, states that happen of their own accord - and it is impossible to force them

(picture 2: The boys of Joker Out became even closer)

No Slovenian artist has enjoyed such a fierce international success as Joker Out. Concerts in iconic European clubs are literally sold out in hours, even minutes. How do you accept fame? Is it a blessing or is there also a bit of fear?

There are certainly Slovenian musicians with international experience. Maybe not at our age, but that doesn't take away from their importance. We have achieved a very nice success here in terms of listeners, we have honed our skills and we have grown with the band as a collective. We have grasped who and what we are as a whole. We are a group of people who make music purely because we really enjoy it. Whatever feelings our music-making evokes, it all comes from us in the most sincere way, Fortunately, our music is liked by a larger crowd and we have managed to transmit our unforced joy, happiness, joy across national borders. There is no better catalyst for such a breakthrough than Eurovision, we chose the moment to participate wisely. It paid off as a successful project, because for a good band it doesn't matter which part of the world it comes from. It's important to be heard - and we were heard by a lot of people. The only thing that has changed so far is that the bonds between us have strengthened. Suddenly we have been forced to talk about emotions and experiences that we did not have before. There has been a lot of filtering of unfamiliar feelings. The desire to create increased a thousandfold for all five of us.

Are you aware of the role that the public attributes to you, to act as a beacon of light in a crowd of frustrated, bitter people?

No. I would hardly say that I can understand that. Every time I hear something like that, it strikes me that it is saying too much. I really cannot think of myself in such a strong context.

You are giving yourself away. You are constantly on the road, interviews, concerts, promotional tours. It's exhausting. How do you recover? What calms you down, fills you with grace?

It's true that we give a lot of ourselves. But we get so much more in return. Nothing calms me more than coming home and being close to my family. And of course the company of Kris, Jan, Jure and Nace. The people we were with friends before this euphoria, have stayed with us, this team surround us with a lot of love.

(picture 3: He's noticing, that young people are connecting into a strong community that cares about the future)

As a front-man and lyricist, you are even more exposed. You've crossed the magical 200 thousand followers on Instagram, which is a mega number, but also a mega stressful situation. Most young people who find themselves in such a situation turn to intoxicating substances. Can you consciously stop and say that you need time for yourself?

The only thing that made me a bit anxious was the sudden exposure to such a large audience'on social media. This brings with it unimaginable dimensions of human imagination, including malice. Imaginary stories emerge in which people literally compete to see who can come up with something more bizarre. This stress got to me at the beginning, because I felt that I had to defend myself in front of the public. In the end, I realised that I didn't need to convince anyone and that it was enough to know the truth. With the help of colleagues who have similar experiences, I have calmed down. As for the substances, I have a natural protection against those, because I am an incorrigible hypochonder. I dare not take an aspirin unless it is really urgent. Above all, I know when to stop.

You come from a close-knit, loving family. That is certainly a solid foundation on which to build your personality. What is their view of everything that happens to you?

They are very proud! Of all my achievements and of me for being able to pull off a music career combined with the academic milestone of graduating. My parents and my grandmother are definitely my biggest supporters. They accompany me on my journey with warnings, but they are more about eating regularly, to not get a stomach ache, to consume enough water and to get enough sleep. I have been chronically lacking the latter in the last few weeks.

What is your relationship to astrology, esotericism, in short, something that is intangible but can be felt?

Superstition is the one I use the most. For Eurovision I had a special pair of underpants and I was haunted by the feeling that if I didn't wear them, everything would go to hell. Jan's mum gave me a lace clover, which I didn't dare leave in Ljubljana. I asked the stylist to sew it on my outfit as a precaution. I got a clay horseshoe from a little girl, and it went with me to Liverpool. It will seem strange to some, but I believe in energies and ghosts.

How do you strengthen your spiritual side?

Not very well. I wish I had managed to acquire more spiritual knowledge in the last year. For example, basic meditation techniques and the laws of yoga, because I am definitely not physically active enough. The feeling of being 90 years old eats up most of my spirit. My back hurts all the time. The best thing I do for inner growth is to read books. Not enough, but I'm going to get better. A little less phone scrolling and more self-reflection, that'll do the job! Author: Tomaž Mihelič, PHOTO: VITA OREHEK

Scans and translation by: @kurooscoffee (jokeroutsubs) DO NOT REPOST!

#Joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #a sociologist rambling about sociological issues... this interview was so much fun to translate #but also challenging!!#i hope I did it justice #Bojan is SO well spoken in Slovenian <3 #and anyway people who have been following us saw the stuff like Bojan/JO doing these random acts of kindness that'd almost stay unnoticed #because JO never mention them - but the people who they made happy posted about it on their websites and social media so we learnt about it #they're also doing another charity concert next week in Ljubljana for a kid with a unique illness that requires very expensive treatment #there were also reports of Bojan donating to charity before he was even (that) famous #so yeah he's not just bullshitting but really stands behind what he says #he's a good bean

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official-olm-posts · 4 months ago

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It has been a few hours short of one week since I started this blog, and it's been terrific!!! People are nice and I get to participate in all sorts of hijinks. Specifically I want to thank @maryland-officially, @walmart-counter, and @crane-detector for making me feel extremely welcome on the gimmick scene!!

#chitchat #for real though this is awesome #so thanks #i've been having a lot of fun even if my topic is UNSUAULLY NICHE #but that's a challenge for me to overcome #because i mean #if i end up bringing some awareness to olms that'd be pretty cool #and make my job easier because i'll get tagged in stuff #not to mention it might inspire some cool new art #very excited about the future of the blog #great first week guys good job

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oneminutefiftysixseconds · 7 months ago

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should i go and see challengers tonight yes or yes

#i missed saltburn at the cinema and i feel like it'd be a fun start to the week #challengers #challengers 2024 #haven't been to the cinema for sooooo long

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worldsokayestdragon · 2 months ago

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GreedxLing Week Day 1: Love Language

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Returning to Xing wasn't what Ling had expected when he'd left home all those months ago. So much had changed, it was hard to believe it had been less than a year since the first time he'd trekked through the desert with Lan Fan and Fu in tow, planning out his first steps for finding the philosopher’s stone and considering the best way to trick the emperor into believing he held the key to immortality for long enough for Ling to maneuver himself into power. Fu had advised him not to get too far ahead of himself, but Ling had refused to even entertain the notion that he might return empty handed. His clan was counting on him. Failure wasn't an option.

Now they were making the return trip with the Chang Clan heiress and a homunculus who until very recently had been coinhabiting Ling’s body.

Lan Fan had lost her arm, and as guilty as Ling felt for dragging her into the fight that had claimed it, she wouldn’t let him apologize. She insisted it was her choice, and one she’d gladly make again, and he knew her well enough to recognize that if he kept feeling sorry for her she…probably wouldn’t actually punch him in the face–because that would be improper and against her vow to protect him–but she would be seriously tempted to do so. He didn’t mention it again.

And they were returning without Fu.

They were bringing him home, of course they were. They could hardly do otherwise. But it was only his remains making the journey in the urn Lan Fan insisted on carrying herself, carefully checking and repacking it every time they stopped to rest. The old man himself would never again walk at Ling’s shoulder and offer advice that Ling was often too stubborn and foolish to take.

Ling wished they could have stayed in Amestris a bit longer. Just to take some time to heal and rest, to adjust to everything. But the emperor’s health wouldn’t hold forever, and if one of his siblings ascended to the throne before Ling’s return then everything would be for nothing. And Lan Fan’s new automail made it crucial to get across the desert before the summer heat could settle in and threaten to burn her.

Most importantly, Fu needed to be laid to rest properly, with full rites instead of the stopgap cremation ritual that Lan Fan had been taught as a child–because the life of a royal bodyguard was dangerous and often took one far from home to die. To truly let his spirit rest, Fu needed a real funeral. Getting that done as soon as possible was the least Ling owed to the man who had been like family to him, closer and more beloved than most of his blood relatives.

If Ling thought about that for too long he’d break down, and then Lan Fan would feel obligated to try and comfort him even though she’d lost so much more than he had. He couldn’t do that to her. He had to stay strong.

So he focused on easier things, like getting to know Mei Chang, and adjusting to Greed having a separate body.

The fact that bonding with the little sister he’d been raised to regard as an annoying obstacle at best, and a credible threat to his life at worst, qualified as “easier” was a testament to how out of control his life had gotten.

The fact that he felt the need to adjust to not sharing his body with the personification of a deadly sin was probably evidence that he’d gone completely insane.

He didn’t really know how to interact with either of them.

Mei didn’t seem to know how to interact with him either. She switched between regarding him with a suspicion that bordered on outright hostility, as she’d no doubt been taught to act around any competing heir, and a starry eyed admiration that came with repeated thanks for promising to protect her clan and offers to help him with anything he needed that frankly made Ling more uncomfortable than when she looked like she wanted to stab him. He didn’t know how to convince her that his commitment to bringing together all the clans was genuine and not dependent on her sucking up to him.

Also her tiny panda had bitten him like five times, and he didn’t heal as quickly as he used to.

And Greed. Greed was the same as he’d always been, probably, but Ling wasn’t used to observing him from the outside. He knew what the homunculus was thinking and feeling in any situation still, could make his stupid sarcastic jokes in unison with him most of the time, but that was just the knowledge of familiarity. He couldn’t hear the outline of Greed’s thoughts the way he used to, or feel the echoes of his emotions. And Ling was starting to realize that for as good as they’d gotten at communicating, their mental conversations maybe hadn’t been much like talking, because he found it difficult to put anything he wanted to say to Greed into words.

He wanted to say so much to Greed. He wanted to reassure him that they could still rule Xing together even if they were separate people now. Wanted to ask if Greed still wanted that, or if he’d rather find something of his own, even if Ling was scared of the answer to that question. He wanted to scream at Greed for being an idiot and trying to sacrifice himself, for lying to him, for almost leaving him behind. He wanted to beg Greed to never do that again, because Ling needed him, and missed him even when he was still here, and he didn’t know how he’d ever recover if Greed left him entirely.

Ling wanted to tell Greed he loved him, and that he thought Greed loved him too, thought he had felt it when Greed shoved Ling away to protect him at the cost of his own life.

But now that Greed was in his own body, looking like his old self and also an entirely new person to Ling, it was hard to be confident that he still felt the same, or even that he’d ever felt that way at all. Maybe Ling had been projecting, the confusion and emotion of that moment overwhelming him and making him feel what he wanted to feel from Greed.

Certainly Greed hadn’t said anything to indicate he felt that way toward Ling since Lan Fan had flung the philosopher’s stone she’d been carrying into the homunculus’s dissipating form and–in an alchemic reaction that Ed said “made no sense” and “gave him a headache”–Greed’s body from before he’d been merged with Ling reformed around him.

Greed had let Ling scream at him for lying, and being a self sacrificing idiot, and scaring him, had let shove him and also let Ling cling to him and tell him to never do anything like that again.

He’d apologized for hurting Ling, but notably didn’t say he was sorry for what he’d done or promise not to do it again. Ling had been a little tempted to stab him then, but he wasn’t sure how many times the incomplete philosopher’s stone inside him could heal him back up. He didn’t want to risk losing him again. (And, Greed had pointed out later, they’d need to “do the hammer trick” at least once to prove to the emperor that Greed was immortal. Ling had vague, second hand memories of “the hammer trick,” and he was sure they could come up with something a little less traumatizing.)

But other than the apology, Greed hadn’t really talked much to Ling after coming back to life. He didn’t even say that he planned to come back with them, just fell in step beside Ling as they headed out and asked how long it would take to get to Xing.

So Ling couldn’t know if Greed felt the way he did, and the thought of being wrong, of ruining the relationship they did have, kept him from asking. Every big, important thing Ling wanted to say to Greed got caught in his throat.

Greed didn’t say anything either. Sometimes it seemed like he was about to. Ling knew him well enough to tell when he was working up to being honest in a way that wasn’t just not telling a lie, a way that was hard for him, but he never followed through.

But even though they were completely failing to talk to each other, even though the silence was awkward and painful at times when Ling thought about how easily they’d talked and joked before, he couldn’t bring himself to leave Greed’s side for long. They were rarely out of arm’s reach of each other. Most often they stayed so close that Ling thought if it was anyone else he’d be freaked out by the invasion of his personal space.

It never felt like an invasion when it was Greed literally breathing down Ling’s neck, walking so close to each other it was frankly a miracle they didn’t trip over each other’s feet, sitting practically in each other’s laps by the campfire when the chill of the desert night set in. They’d given up the pretense of settling into separate bedrolls after the second time they’d woken up wrapped around each other in the sand between two unused piles of blankets.

But for all that easy closeness, they still barely talked.

Ling couldn’t bring himself to talk to Greed, and he didn’t know how to talk to Mei, and Lan Fan never liked to talk about things before she’d had a chance to process them on her own, so Ling hardly dared to interrupt her grief with conversation. It was shaping up to be the most awkwardly silent trip in history.

Except actually Greed and Mei seemed to have no trouble talking to each other. Half the time the homunculus wasn’t right beside Ling it was because he’d walked off to talk to his little sister. She wasn’t nearly as standoffish with Greed, and he apparently had plenty to say to her. They got along great, other than the first time they’d talked, when Mei had squealed “Mister Greed, that’s so—” and Ling had never found out what that was so because Greed had clapped a hand over the girl’s mouth and hissed something at her, ignoring Xiao-Mei biting his hand in retaliation.

Since then they had quiet conversations that cut off when Ling approached basically every day, and any time Ling asked Greed what they were talking about he just said “don’t worry about it,” or sometimes “wouldn’t you like to know,” which was the type of nonanswer he only gave when he wanted to keep something to himself without technically lying.

Ling watched the two of them conspiring or plotting or whatever it was they were doing, and had to firmly remind himself that he was not jealous of a thirteen-year-old who’d been forced to travel to a foreign country alone in a desperate bid to save the clan she was too young to bear responsibility for.

No matter how easily she got to talk to Greed.

Other than talking to Mei, the only times Greed left Ling’s side was when he’d seen something on the ground he wanted to investigate.

That at least was familiar. Ling remembered spending the winter trekking through Amestris, and how often Greed wandered off the trail to pick up a shiny rock or a weird shaped stick or a bottle cap with an interesting logo to shove in their pocket. Ed griped at him constantly for wasting time picking up trash, but that had never stopped Greed.

What was weird now was that Greed always looked at whatever he picked up critically instead of pocketing it and rejoining the group immediately. He twisted the objects this way and that, examined them in the light, and most of the time he dropped them again as if he’d found them lacking.

Maybe admitting to himself that what he really wanted was people to care for had eased his compulsion to collect whatever caught his eye.

(Maybe having Ling around was enough, even if it wasn’t the same as it had been. Maybe he was satisfied to have a friend, and Ling could be satisfied with that too, even if neither of them ever made a move to make it something more. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.)

The first time Greed found something that met his new standards, it was nearing sunset on their first day in the desert between Amestris and Xing. Greed split off from the group and came back with a rock worn smooth by the blowing sands. The sunlight shone on the rock’s surface, and revealed little clusters of sparkles when Greed twisted it at the right angle. In different lighting it would probably look like an unremarkable gray lump, but it was beautiful in the moment. Ling understood why Greed decided to pick it up.

He didn’t understand why, instead of shoving it in his own pocket as usual, Greed held it out for Ling.

“Here,” he said, looking at Ling expectantly. “Take it.”

“Um, okay?”

Ling held out his hand and Greed tipped the rock into it. It was smooth as marble, and warm from lying in the sun. It fit perfectly in Ling’s palm. He absently ran his thumb over the surface as he looked back at Greed.

Greed had a concerningly smug look on his face.

Suddenly suspicious, Ling asked, “Are you trying to make me carry your stuff so you can pick up even more rocks?”

The smug smile disappeared from Greed’s face.

“No, It’s–ugh nevermind!”

Ling watched, bemused, as Greed stomped away, as much as anyone could stomp over shifting sand, to talk to Mei. The girl patted him comfortingly on the arm and shot Ling a dirty look that he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve.

Ling tucked the rock carefully into his pocket for safekeeping, and then hurried to catch up with Lan Fan and offer to help her find a good campsite.

A few days later, as they were approaching an oasis midway between the Amestran border and the ruins of Xerxes, Greed once again found something he deemed worthy of hanging on to.

The oasis was one of the better documented sources of water on the journey through the desert and trade caravans came through the area regularly. They’d been seeing little bits and bobs that must have fallen off a wagon throughout the day. Greed had stopped to investigate most of it, but only found one thing he actually liked.

Once again, Greed carried his find over to Ling, this time keeping whatever it was closed in his fist as he offered it.

“Here. I want you to keep this. Not carry it for me.”

“...Right.” Ling decided not to comment on Greed’s weird behavior, instead just holding out his hand under Greed’s

A ring dropped into Ling’s palm, a black band set with a purple gemstone almost the exact color of Greed’s eyes.

The stone was fake, Ling could tell right away. He didn’t know if Greed couldn’t tell or just didn’t care. For all his talk about appreciating the finer things, Greed didn’t actually put much stock into how expensive or high quality anything was, perfectly content with costume jewelry as long as it was suitably flashy.

This ring actually wasn’t nearly as gaudy as Greed’s tastes normally ran. It black band was simple, etched with a subtle geometric pattern that was only visible up close. The single stone was large, but not ridiculously so, not something that was deliberately ostentatious.

Ling actually liked it, and maybe it was unbecoming of a future Emperor of Xing, but Ling found he didn’t care much more than Greed did about having only expensive belongings just to prove he could afford them.

Greed shifted anxiously, and Ling realized he’d been silently staring at the ring for long enough for it to get uncomfortable.

“Thank yo–”

“We must hurry, my lord.” Lan Fan called, interrupting Ling’s thanks. “We need to reach the oasis before sundown if we hope to replenish our supplies tonight and get an early start tomorrow.”

Ling knew most people would think she sounded perfectly respectful, as befitted a bodyguard speaking to her master. But he also knew her well enough to hear how annoyed she was getting with the hold up.

“Coming Lan Fan!” he called. Turning to Greed he added, “We’d better go before she decides to stab you.”

Greed looked a little disappointed, but nodded, easily matching Ling’s pace as they began to walk again.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t really want to fight her.”

“Because you don’t fight women?” Ling asked.

Greed hummed in agreement and Ling rolled his eyes.

“That’s such an old fashioned attitude. She could beat you easily, especially if you do that thing where you refuse to use your full shield until you’re already losing.”

Greed looked at Ling like he was stupid.

“Of course she could. She’s insane. I guess you never met my ‘sister’ before she bit the dust, but she was fucking terrifying. And Martel was–” Greed cut himself off, looked away for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. “Ed’s teacher took out my whole crew single handedly once. That Winry girl’s not even a fighter and she tossed us and Darius and Heinkel and those two Briggs guys out of her room like it was nothing. Not to mention your little sister being–”

“Wait,” Ling interrupted Greed’s list. “Are you saying you’re ‘not the kind of guy who fights women’ because you think all women can kick your ass?”

“I don’t think all women can kick my ass,” Greed argued. “I just think women who like to fight are more likely to kick my ass than men, which is not fun for me, and women who don’t fight probably have no idea how to because of stupid human gender rolls, so I’d feel shitty for beating them up. Also the one time I tried to fight Lust she backed me into a corner and slashed my arms off like ten times in a row while saying I should never hit a lady, so. Don’t really want to do that again.”

Ling burst out laughing as they hurried to catch up with Lan Fan, and ignored Greed’s protests about his reasoning making perfect sense.

He slipped the ring onto his finger as they walked.

He didn’t miss Greed’s pleased smile.

They reached Xerxes before midday, and decided to rest there and head out again the next morning.

Greed announced that he was going to take a look around the place. When Ling stood to go with him he added that he wanted to go alone.

Ling tried to hide his hurt and disappointment at that. He had thought they’d been getting a little more comfortable around each other the last few days.

He must not have succeeded, because Greed suddenly looked panicked and added, “I mean alone for now! We can go together later, that would be cool. But you should…rest! Because you need more of that than me. And you should let me find places that are safe to explore first since you’re all human now and…squishy.” He winced at his own word choice. “Okay, see you later, bye!”

Greed all but fled from where they’d settled in the shade of a ruined building, and Ling watched him go.

Greed was being very weird since the Promised Day. Well, he was always weird, but now it was obvious even to Ling, who’d mostly gotten used to his baseline bizarre behavior.

Greed almost never said what he meant, for all that he didn’t lie, but he was normally way smoother at talking his way around things. Smooth enough that he could even fool himself into believing his bullshit.

And Ling couldn’t figure out why Greed kept giving him stuff. Sure, his whole “I want everything” routine was just a cover for the fact that he couldn’t even admit to himself that he just wanted friends. Ling was able to tell that almost right away, once they joined up with Ed and he let himself think of Greed as something other than an enemy he had to resist.

But he’d never picked up on any real inclination to give things away, no matter how much he cared about the people around him more than he’d ever let on. He also liked having stuff. And yet he hadn’t kept any of the things he’d picked up on their journey.

Ling could hear Greed make his way through the ruined city streets. He was not gifted in stealth, much to the dismay of their traveling companions when they’d been trying to evade the Amestran military over the long months of winter.

It sounded like he was digging through the rubble and flipping stones too big for a human hands to easily move. Ling wondered what he hoped to find. The place had been abandoned for generations. Then again, most people left it alone rather than ransacking it, out of respect for the terrible tragedy that had happened here, so maybe there was something worth finding.

Ling was considering whether he should tell Greed to stop rifling through the remains of a dead civilization when Greed made a triumphant noise and the sounds of digging through rubble stopped, replaced by the sounds of sprinting back towards the rest of them.

Greed audibly stopped running just around the corner of their makeshift shelter and then strolled casually into sight. Ling very kindly refrained from laughing at the terrible attempt at acting like he hadn’t been rushing back. Mei had to turn away and disguise her giggles as a cough, and Lan Fan didn’t bother to hide her judgemental stare.

Greed looked a little excited and a little nervous as he walked over to Ling, though Ling wasn’t sure if someone who hadn’t spent a few months inside Greed’s head would be able to see that through the false air of confidence he’d put on. He was holding something behind his back.

Greed stopped directly in front of Ling and said, “I found this for you,” before all but shoving the hidden object into Ling’s hands.

It was a dagger in a sheath that had maybe once been brightly painted but had long since faded to the barest hints of a pattern. The hilt and cross guards formed elegant curves, and there was a blue jewel inset in the pommel. Ling drew the blade, and though it had long lost its edge, it must have been well made and also incredibly sheltered from the elements wherever Greed had dug it out from, because it was in remarkable condition for how old it must have been. It would probably only need a little bit of maintenance to be usable.

It was a beautiful weapon, but also a practical one, lacking in the tacky extra spikes and jagged edges that Ed liked to give things, and that Greed had often praised as looking “pretty sweet.” It was obvious that Greed had picked it with Ling’s tastes in mind.

“Thank you,” Ling breathed. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

He looked up from the blade to find Greed grinning at him, somewhere between elated and self satisfied.

“I don’t have anything for you,” Ling added, suddenly feeling guilty for taking so many gifts from Greed without offering something in return. “I could go find–”

“You don’t have to,” Greed interrupted, still smiling. “I mean, you can if you want. You know I’ll never say no to a present. But you don’t have to. I didn’t give it to you so you’d give me something.”

“Why did you, then?” Ling asked.

The smile slipped off of Greed’s face, but before Ling could freak out about making him sad, Lan Fan and Mei both groaned in frustration, in a display of synchronicity that Ling didn’t think boded well for his future well being.

“Ling Yao, you are so stupid!” Mei exclaimed. She sounded less hostile than he might have expected with that statement. Her tone almost reminded him of when Al would sometimes despair over what an idiot his big brother was.

“He’s not the only problem,” Lan Fan argued. “Greed, you need to stop acting like a child and use your words.”

Ling was officially lost. He looked between his three companions in hopes of finding a clue to what was happening, and was completely disappointed in that hope.

“Lan Fan, do you know what’s going on?” Ling asked.

“Of course I do!” she snapped before taking a deliberate breath and continuing in something closer to her normal calm and respectful way of speaking to him. Ling could still clearly hear her holding herself back from calling him an idiot.

“Ling, you are my prince, my lord, my future emperor. I would follow you anywhere, I would kill and die for you, and I know you will be a good king to our people. But I cannot deal with this foolishness another second. It was a nice distraction at first, but it’s gone on for far too long.”

She turned away from him to speak to Mei. “I'm going for a walk. Would you like to join me, Princess?”

“Yes, actually,” Mei chirped, hopping to her feet. “ I wanted to take a look around and see if I could find any surviving records of the types of alchemy that were studied here. Hopefully something that doesn’t involve human sacrifice for a change.”

“Wait,” Greed said, sounding slightly panicked. “Mei, you said you wanted to help me.”

“I did want to help you, mister Greed, but Lan Fan’s right. This is taking too long. You two need to sort this out before we get back, or we’re kicking both of your butts, okay?”

Lan Fan, alarmingly, did not object to the idea of Mei kicking Ling’s butt, and instead calmly walked away with the younger girl.

Ling looked back at Greed, who was staring after Mei like a man lost at sea watching his last hope of rescue disappear over the horizon.

“Do you know what we're supposed to be working out?” Ling asked, watching Greed's attention snap to him in a wide eyed stare. “Because I really don't want to get beat up by my little sister and my best friend. Actually, I think I liked it better when they hated each other.”

“Right,” Greed said. He took a deep breath and shook his arms out, his expression settling into something more calm and confident that was almost convincing. “I can use my words, no problem. I don't act like a child.”

“Of course,” Ling agreed, trying to sound encouraging.

Privately he had his doubts. This sounded like it was going to be a serious conversation, and while Greed has many strengths and good qualities, the ability to talk about serious things–or gods forbid his own emotions–was not one of them. He hadn't even been able to tell the difference between wanting world domination and wanting friends until Ling spelled it out for him.

Ling thought he might know what this was about, or hoped he did anyway. But he wouldn't push. If he was wrong it would be awful, and if he was right then it was best to let Greed try and get it out on his own time.

“I want–I mean I–you’re so–” Greed cut himself with a muttered curse. “Let me start over?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

Greed took a few more breaths, looking everywhere but at Ling, before seeming to gather the nerve to continue.

“I want to rule Xing with you,” Greed said in a rush, so fast Ling could hardly make out the words. “I mean, if that offer's still on the table. If I didn't screw it up forever with the lying to you and almost dying and making you waste that philosopher's stone to save my ass. I really hope I didn't screw it up?”

That wasn't exactly what Ling had wanted to hear, but it was still good. It meant Greed wanted to stay with him, and Ling wanted to rule Xing together too. That could be enough. It really could.

He refused to let himself be disappointed.

“You didn't screw anything up,” he reassured. “Of course the offer still stands. I thought that was obvious when you decided to come back with us.”

Greed shook his head. “No–well yes, but. What I mean is…we aren't sharing the same body anymore.”

“Yes, I've noticed that.” Ling agreed slowly, once again lost as to what Greed was even talking about.

“Right. Of course you have. Obviously.” Greed waved his hand vaguely, as if shooing away Ling’s comment. “So, now we’re two different people. I mean we always were, but like, legally or whatever. And, you know, normally if two different people are ruling a country together it’s because they’re together. I guess usually married, technically.”

Oh.

That was actually a bit more than Ling had been hoping for, to be honest. But Greed never did anything halfway.

Before Ling could say anything, Greed’s mind visibly caught up with his mouth. His face turned a very interesting shade of red.

“Wait, no, that’s not what I–” Greed waved both hands in the space between them, like he could maybe catch and take back the words. “I don’t mean we should get married right now! Or ever, if you don’t want. We really haven’t known each other that long, even if it feels like I’ve known you forever. I just meant–I really want to stay with you, and not just because I want to rule a country. So maybe we could date? Or something? God, I sound like an idiot! Forget I said anything, I’m just gonna go dig a hole and bury myself for a few hours. Or years.”

Greed turned away, and Ling just managed to shake himself out of his shock in time to catch his hand before he could make a break for it.

Greed could have pulled away easily. There was no way Ling, who was back to being an ordinary human, could have held a homunculus who really didn’t want to stay put. But Greed didn’t pull away. Instead he stopped like he was rooted to the ground. He looked down at where their hands were joined between them, then twisted his so he could interlock their fingers.

Ling couldn’t stop the huge smile growing across his face, no doubt completely goofy and undignified, and not even serving a purpose like the ones he used to put on for his airheaded prince act. He didn’t really care.

“I don’t think you sound like an idiot,” Ling said. “I want to stay with you not just to rule a country too.”

Greed eyes darted up from their hands to look searchingly at Ling’s face. “Really?” He asked.

Of course, for all Greed’s blustering self aggrandizement, he really didn’t think very highly of himself. Ling might be the only one to know the truth of that, so he knew how hard it must have been for Greed to come out and say that he wanted to be with Ling, without even hiding behind some convoluted speech about wanting to own him.

It gave Ling the courage to do something hard himself.

“Yes, really. Couldn’t you feel it when we were sharing a body?” Ling really hadn’t thought he’d been subtle, but Greed just tilted his head in question. “Greed, I love you.”

Greed gasped, looking at Ling like he’d just performed a miracle. He raised his free hand and gently, almost hesitanty, cupped the side of Ling’s face.

“I–” Greed started, and then gave up trying to talk in favor of leaning forward and kissing Ling.

It was a chaste kiss, just a brush of their lips really, and Ling wasn’t sure if Greed was being considerate for his comparative lack of experience, or if the vulnerability of the moment had made the homunculus feel uncertain in the action himself.

Either way, that simple press of lips felt amazing, electric in a way it maybe didn’t have any right to. A part of Ling would probably always miss the closeness of sharing his body with Greed, but now he realized that having their own bodies opened up a lot of exciting new possibilities.

All too soon, Greed pulled away again. He stared into Ling’s eyes, looking every bit as dazed and happy as Ling felt.

“I love you too,” Greed said, his voice barely above a whisper but the only thing Ling could hear.

Greed’s new old body was taller, and Ling had to reach up to wrap a hand around the back of his head and tug him down into another, deeper kiss. But Greed leaned back in so easily he barely had to pull, so that was okay.

Eventually they’d need to talk more, about what they both wanted, about how to frame their relationship to the emperor and the people of Xing so it wouldn’t hurt their chances at the throne. But all of that could wait. For now, Ling was more than happy to let the world fall away as he stood in the ruined city and kissed the man he loved.

When the girls returned to find them like that, Mei seemed torn between finding the romance sweet and being disgusted by her brother kissing someone. She landed on disgusted, sticking her tongue out and saying, “Blech! Do that somewhere else!” before flopping down next to her bags and pulling out a notebook, presumably to take note of whatever alchemical oddities she’d spotted on her walk.

Lan Fan still looked tired and sad, and probably would for a long time yet, but when she smiled at Ling he could tell it was genuine. “I’m happy for you, young lord,” she said, and her voice sounded lighter than he’d heard it since before she cut off her arm.

So much had changed since he’d set off for Amestris nearly a year ago, and Ling had lost things he would never get back. But he’d gained more than he’d ever thought to dream as well.

As he sat in the ruins of the city whose destroyer they had helped defeat, with his best friend, the little sister he never thought he’d be allowed to care for, and the love of his life by his side, Ling thought he’d be ready for whatever changes the future might hold.

#greedxlingweek2024 #fma #greed fma #ling yao #greedling #i love these idiots #write a freaking story without thousands of words of introspection up front challenge level impossible #I was like oh i'll just do a quick lil thing about greed's love language being gift giving #thats fun and ironic but also suits him #I guess they'd need to be in separate bodies for it to really work though. ill set it on the return trip to Xing in an AU where greed #got his old body back after the self sacrifice attempt #but then i had to address all the emotional baggage and trauma theyd have at that point #before i could convince my brain to write the dang prompt #your honor in my defense i am simply a yapper #writing a version of greed who has been forced to confront the mortifying ordeal of being known and admit that he wants friends is fun #because he cant hide behind 'ooh im so evil and badass and i want to own you all' anymore #and ive decided hed be incredibly bad and awkward at that #hes got no practice!#ive never written lings pov before #not sure if i got his voice right #ive also never written them separated like this before #i prefer when they're sharing a body usually. ill probably stick them back together for the rest of the week #anyway these tags have gotten out of hand and i need to go to bed #enjoy the greedling!

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sisterdivinium · 3 months ago

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As the Church shrank, dirtied by the ash and smoke of a pope's carbonized corpse and the negligence of its God, the OCS gathered. Headless though the institution was, Mother Superion would have it wield a sword still.

Weapons. Drills. Strategy. Work was endless.

Some new recruits gawked at the ArqTech owner walking amongst them from time to time, hovering by Superion's side. Camila snapped them back into attention — posture! A jab, a hold, a kick were more becoming than gossip.

But there was hardly any of that. There was no time, they witnessed no touches; the two women supervised, commanded, left.

Only when the day was done, with limbs heavy and eyes closed, did work allow for play: timid and tender, when all others were too tired to notice.

A look, a smirk, a caress — exhaustion made them chaste. With holy war on the horizon, carnal thoughts translated into candid touches and luminous kisses against the weight of coming darkness. All else was serious enough, so Mother Superion and Jillian Salvius exchanged no vows and said naught of love.

Warmth sufficed, closeness — the demons would come and lives would fade, so they took humble rewards in those hopeful shadows.

#doctor superion #jillian salvius #mother superion #warrior nun #alright so i meshed two prompts into one. these are work and play.#it's clearly another double drabble but i tried to allocate about 100 words for each regardless #what i don't understand about seeing so few others write drabbles is that see they're like puzzles. they're fun #they're challenging even though they're so short #but they're also a fantastic way to write something complete that you can a) share and b) cut your teeth on when needed #of course i'm a bit crazy in that i'm trying to fill up a whole table of 100 prompts with just jillian/suzanne drabbles lol #but again it's the challenge. a game if you will.#sometimes i curse myself for it -- i've been stuck with the smut prompt for DAYS and it should be ready for the other week oops #but most of the time it's really really cool to have something like this to look forward to #anyway. i am a fierce advocate of drabbles always have been and always will be #warrior nun drabble #narratives and similar

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nochangeintheplan · 10 months ago

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i think the entire tojo suggestion box can primarily be summed up via 'eso just wants to draw Mine making goofy faces' + 'constantly at war w myself over OOC vs having fun'

#stg writing out the dialogue or settling on an idea probably takes just abt as long as drawing it #the amt of stuff on the cutting room floor i weep #and constant nitpicking #beau can attest #it more comes down to 'at what point do i just give up and admit defeat' more than actually settling on something i like #or going by rule of funny instead of in character (see: Majima)#sorry majima you get it the worst especially in the multiple canceled strips #but honestly!! this has been a fun challenge so far bc i am NOT a writer lol #also the real pain is that some of the questions i LOVE i cannot get to simply bc the idea becomes a page or two of comic #that i definitely cannot devote a week to vs some quick funnies + story #i wail

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valencock · 2 years ago

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Uuuuuh whats this??

A big dumpy

Okay so let me fucking uuuuuu explain, story makey no sense I know. Assume time skips basically between all the pages I just got really lazy but uh

John and the Boys™️ have a shitty band where they do cover songs and shit at terrible locations with open mic nights, one of those places being ((I know this is unrealistic but it's a dynamic in Paul Blart 1 so I feel valid)) a pub that's in the mall So he can live out his 2010 Anime AMV fantasies

Also here's the weezer song referenced cuz I'm uuu gay

Just wanted to draw the boys crushing on each other and general conversation stuff and it turned into this monster.

#my art #mallout au #i make content that like 3 people understand and i love each and every single one of yall #this au is my curse #i really just wanted to prove to myself i can still put something down on the digital paper because drawing has been really hard for me #for the last 3 years so this was a fun challenge #im thw whole spectrum #rj makes them play freebird the next week

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meownotgood · 5 months ago

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I swear I'm like. 80% done with this

#the tension between me and Untitled Document #basically just need to finish one last smutty part and then the ending #I wanted to finish it this week but... we'll have to see...#I'm working all weekend again......#honestly it's been a challenge to write but I've it enjoyed it a ton lol #his character is so fun #although I've come up with a lot of my own headcanons that will prob be made obsolete by the time s2 of arcane comes... COUGH #it's ok it's ok we ball

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snaillamp · 1 year ago

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JOD - Day 19 - Stay with Me

We had fluff on day 18, so day 19 is the complete opposite. >:)

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Masterlist

Day 19: “I’m not going anywhere” | Wound cleaning | Guilt | Chair |

Right-hand limped out of the forest, pulling someone behind them. Slung over their shoulder was the arm of Leader, who was barely able to walk. Right-hand whimpered as they sank to the ground, Leader heavily dropping to the ground next to them.

Right-hand was breathing heavily as they rolled onto their back, staring up at the stars, they were still heading in the right direction. ‘We are so close to the bunker… we have to be. We have to keep going.’ they thought.

In the darkness, they looked over at Leader, who was lying still. They turned and shook them, “Leader?” waiting anxiously as they felt Leader’s chest rise and fall, barely. They felt cold.   Right-hand pushed themself to their feet, pulling Leader’s arm back over their shoulder. Leader groaned, lifting their head slightly. “Right-hand?” “I’m right here Leader. Stay with me, we’re nearly there.”

They adjusted their grip on Leader’s arm before continuing. Leader spoke again, their voice ragged, “What happened?” Right-hand felt gooebumps erupt over their skin, Leader sounded terrible. “I got us out of there. We’re-” Right-hand’s sentence was cut off as pain ripped through their leg. “We’re nearly there.” They panted, practically dragging their leg behind them. Leader moaned quietly, before slumping against them, sending them both staggering off course. Right-hand righted themself before grunting, pulling the arm of the unconscious Leader over their shoulder a little more, trying to carry their dead weight.

The trees sighed as they broke into the clearing, Right-hand collapsing again. They looked up at the sky, now clouded over, the light of the stars no longer a comfort to them. At least they didn’t need them to navigate anymore.

Leaning Leader against a tree, they limped out into the small clearing, uncovering the bunker door, hidden in the dirt and leaves, pulling it open. They hobbled back to Leader, picking them up under their arms and dragging them along the ground. Slowly, they managed to get them both down the bunker entrance, one agonising step at a time, before slamming the door shut behind them, plunging them into darkness.

They felt the cold, brick wall, pressing the light switch when their fingers brushed it. A dull yellow light flickered on, buzzing as Right-hand looked around. There were many bunkers scattered around the country for teams like them, secret places to remain safe until they were picked up by an evacuation team, a team that couldn’t come soon enough.

Right-hand felt the blood begin dripping down their leg again, swearing as they noticed. They lay Leader on the ground, before stumbling to a shelf and fumbling through the supplies. Finding what they needed, they bandaged their wound tightly, hoping it would be enough to keep them going. They popped out a couple of pills from a box and forced themself to swallow them, gagging at the taste of the chalky tablets.

Turning to Leader, they knelt down and checked them over. There was a large wound on their head and dried blood was all through their hair and down their face. Feeling their chest for breathing, Right-hand could tell that Leader had some badly broken ribs and their breathing was shallow as they took quiet, uneven breaths.

Right-hand grabbed more bandages, wrapping a large stab wound on Leader’s arm and a long gash on their stomach. Leader suddenly woke, hissing in pain as Right-hand brushed their hand against the raw skin accidentally. They let out a cry, scraping their fingernails along the concrete floor as Right-hand quickly tried to wrap the rest of the bandage. “Leader, I gotta fix you up, then we can sort your pain out.” Securing the bandage, Right-hand managed to lift Leader from the floor and move them to a small, low camping stretcher. They were both soaked in blood, not all their own, as Right-hand lowered Leader onto it.

Leader gripped their stomach, fighting back tears in their eyes as waves of pain and nausea washed over them.  Right-hand grabbed a wound cleaning kit and sat by their side, before leaning back and resting their head beside Leader’s shaking shoulders. Opening the kit they swore, trust the people who kept these stocked to cheap out and buy shit antiseptic. They pulled up their sleeves, giving their own wounds a clean until Leader’s shaking subsided. The antiseptic burned as they winced through clenched teeth.

When Leader’s breath became calmer, Right-hand began to clean their wounds. This caused Leader’s body to spasm and they bit back scream as Right-hand cleaned a particularly deep wound. Their eyes grew slightly distant as they gasped in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Stay with me.” Right-hand was concentrating on causing the least amount of pain as their leader writhed in the stretcher.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Leader grunted through gritted teeth, trying to keep a scream back unsuccessfully when Right-hand dabbed a cut. Right-hand stopped as Leader’s breathing grew faster, their body drenched in sweat. Leader looked up at them, eyes unfocused, “They aren’t coming… Are they?” shaking their head Right-hand kept dabbing, “They will. They have to.” They had to right? Surely they would be found and get out of here?

Right-hand used some more antiseptic to wipe the dried blood off their bodies. The scent was overpowering, smelling like fake pine trees. Leader coughed as they accidentally breathed it in. “Don’t do that.” Right-hand smiled gently, removing the small gauze pad they were using to clean. “The fumes will make you drunk.” Leader let out a pained laugh, “Honestly, wouldn’t mind that right now. Better than this.” They shuddered in pain again.

Nausea ripped through Leader’s body, making them feel like they were on a ship in a storm. They felt the cool sensation of the antiseptic drying on their arm as Right-hand wiped a new gauze pad all over it. “I’d rather you be sober for this one.” Right-hand’s voice sounded slightly muffled. Another wave of nausea washed over Leader, making them groan as the room began to swirl around them, as a jolt of pain ripped through their body, white hot and agonising. Leader’s body arched as the pain ripped through their entire being, before their eyes rolled back and they landed heavily on the stretcher. “Leader?”Right-hand cried out, shaking them to no avail.

Right-hand felt their mind beginning to swirl too. They must have been exposed to the toxin at the facility they infiltrated. That was the whole mission, to blow up a lab that they had received intel on. It was supposed to be manufacturing a new, fast acting, painful toxin that could be used by anyone to interrogate any information out of them, without causing them too much physical harm. No physical injuries? No suspicion. Absolute agony.

Pain began to rip through Right-hand’s body too, soon enough. They were on the lying ground, writhing in pain when they heard a weak voice through the fog… “Right-hand… Stay with me.” Scared, Right-hand flailed towards the sound, “Lie down… You’re with me… I’m not going anywhere.” Right-hand’s mouth was dry, “Neither.” they found their hand being weakly squeezed by another cold, shaky one.

They lay together, sprawled on the ground, drifting in and out until a light broke through the darkness and brain fog. Muffled sounds echoed around them ad the barely conscious Right-hand felt themself being lifted up. The cold, limp hand of Leader dropped from their grip and they groaned, reaching for it again. They promised they wouldn’t leave them alone.

“It’s alright, Right-hand.” The sound of the extrication team around them began to become clear. “Leader…” They mumbled, reaching for them again. “Leader’s right here, they’re fine.” The disembodied voice comforted them. “We got here just in time. A signal went off saying that the bunker had been opened and it’s a good thing it did. You’re both quite lucky.” Right-hand couldn’t make words form in their head as they were carried to a large, black helicopter.

Leader was already being loaded in, wrapped up on a stretcher. Right-hand realised they were lying on one too, as they admired the soft, warm colours of the rising sun.

Once on the chopper, their hand fell from the edge of the stretcher, brushing Leader’s, who’s eyes opened slowly. They looked at each other, too tired and in pain to move, but they weakly smiled. They would get through this together, they weren’t going anywhere.

#whump #leader whump #sidekick whump #leader whumpee #sidekick whumpee #June of doom 23 #day 19 #i love how it keeps telling me the nonUS way of spelling is wrong lmao #im so behind in this challenge still fml #its been so fun tho fr #hello to the new followers whove been reading my stuff #and hello to my friends ive been spamming links too all week ahahahhahaa im sorry #actually no im not but still its been so fun to get validation that i can actually write #snaillamp #original post

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