#my mantra of i must play nice prevents that. for now.

[kaleidowl]

every time there's an elise and dan interaction on dvy im sitting around like this

[thebonerpit]

plug me in and flip some switches [fic]

plug me in and flip some switches

Starker, 4687 words, [E], Android AU, read on Ao3 here!

A Starker Android AU/kinda-sorta Detroit: Become Human AU. Stark Industries is making androids, but somehow CyberLife has cornered the market on sex-bots. Tony decides to do some hands-on research and meets Peter, an android who is experiencing some very troubling malfunctions.

This is VERY loosely based on the D:BH world but it's mostly just a regular android AU and can be read as such. The only thing you need to know is androids have circular LEDs on their temples but otherwise look completely human.

It’s research. Pure and simple. Nothing else.

Tony repeats it like a mantra in his head as he steps through the front door of the club.

For years now he’s been competing with Kamski over at CyberLife, producing better and better android models and other technological marvels. CyberLife and Stark Industries models are commonplace now around the city, life-like bots that can do anything from mow your lawn to suck your dick.

The dick-sucking is why Tony is here, really.

As much as he hates to admit it, Kamski has the sex-bot market cornered. Tony can’t figure it out. His models are gorgeous, his patented StarkSkin is more realistic than anything that hack has come up with so far but somehow sales are pathetic next to CyberLife’s numbers. So… research. Covert research.

He’s not naïve enough to think some shoddy disguise will prevent him from being spotted, but the little device in his pocket that’s currently scrambling all the camera feeds will certainly help. He hands over his identification card to the android by the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhodes. Enjoy your visit.”

Yeah, about that… sorry Rhodey. Tony resolves to buy him a nice steak dinner to make up for it.

The club is clean, but tacky, at least in his opinion. Blue and purple lights give the place a strange glow and all the furniture looks expensive but uncomfortable. There are various models walking around and dancing on small stages, clothed but just barely, and a handful of human “customers” admiring the goods. He already feels like he needs a shower.

“Welcome to the Eden Club,” the android at the front desk says, her voice soothing and calm. “Would you prefer to browse our models on the floor, or in our catalogue?”

Tony isn’t particularly fond of wandering around the club aimlessly, especially with other patrons there, so he points at the screen being projected in front of him.

“Wonderful. Do you have a preference for gender?”

He shakes his head and waits to see if there’s any reaction from the android. She simply taps a few keys and the catalogue appears in front of him.

“You’ll find all of our models here. When you have selected one, press the blue button underneath their picture.”

Tony almost wants to ask her to just choose for him. It would make this whole thing less... deliberate. He glances quickly behind him to ensure no one else is there before looking through the first few pictures. A Steve model, with a gentle smile and wholesome good looks. A Natasha, who looks like she could probably kill him with a flick of her wrist. He swallows thickly and files that one away to come back to. A Bucky, a huge man with beautiful long hair and sad eyes. A Wanda, young but intense. As he swipes through the next few pages, none of them really stand out to him. What’s so damn special about these bots? He considers going back to the Natasha when he stops on one of the last photographs.

A Peter model. Tony has seen a few of the others throughout the city, but this one is new. Small and lithe, twinky, but well-muscled. The model rotates on the screen and Tony nearly chokes as his eyes fixate on what can only be described as an absolutely perfect ass encased in tight black boxer-briefs. But the face… jesus. Soft-looking waves of hair frame a gentle and innocent expression, slightly chubby cheeks contrast with a sharp little nose and jawline, and big brown eyes make him look even more frighteningly human than the others.

He presses the blue button before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Rhodes. Please follow me and I’ll take you to your private room.”

The android leads him down a long hallway lined with closed doors. Tony can’t hear any noises coming from within so he assumes there must be sound-proofing on all the rooms. The main club was too crowded for these to all be empty. She stops near the end of the hall and gestures to a door with a green light beside the handle.

“He’s ready for you. You have one hour from the time you open the door. Please remember that any damage done to the unit will be charged to your account. Enjoy your evening.”

She walks away without a second glance.

Tony exhales sharply.

“Alright. I guess this is happening.”

He opens the door and all his blood immediately rushes downward. Peter is a vision. He’s wearing nothing but those skimpy black boxer-briefs and is curled up like a cat in the middle of a huge, round bed. The sheets are dark red and the contrast against his pale skin is absolutely gorgeous. He perks up as soon as Tony walks in, skin flushing a pretty pink as he lets his eyes drag slowly up and down Tony’s body.

“Hello,” Peter says. No, not “Peter”. It’s an android. A bot. And Tony is here for research. RESEARCH.

“Uh. Hi there.”

His legs unfold gracefully as he slips off the edge of the bed to stand and extends a hand to Tony. He smiles, and Tony’s heart clenches.

“Come sit with me.”

“Yeah. Sure, I can do that,” Tony says, wondering where his higher brain functions have gone. He takes the android’s hand and allows himself to be led over to the bed where they both sit. Peter doesn’t relinquish his gentle grip, and his palm is soft and warm against Tony’s.

“Is this your first time?”

Tony snorts. “What? No! I’ve… oh, you mean here?”

Peter nods, still smiling.

“Then yeah I guess so. Like a virgin, huh?”

The android laughs softly but Tony is sure he’s just programmed to do that. Adding in knowledge of Madonna’s entire back catalogue seems like a waste of processing space.

“What would you like to start with, Mr. Rhodes?”

Oh. Right.

“Well, first of all you can call me Tony.”

The boy – BOT – frowns slightly. “I apologize, that wasn’t the name I was—”

“It’s ok,” Tony says with a wave of his hand, “it’s a… nickname. I just like it better than James. Or Mr. Rhodes. Ugh, sounds so stuffy, doesn’t it? A boring name for a boring guy.”

The smile returns and Tony feels a brief squeeze of his hand.

“I’m sure you’re not boring at all, Tony.”

Ok yeah hearing his name in that sweet little voice is kind of doing it for him. But this has nothing to do with how the bot is built, this is Tony’s own weird perversion, so he powers through it.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not really here for the usual sex stuff ok? And… god, I can’t believe I’m about to apologize to an android, but I’m sorry in advance for what I need to do to you.”

Peter’s expression doesn’t change at all, which is slightly alarming. Tony expects him to be at least a little concerned about his well-being.

“I’m capable of taking anything you want to give me, Tony,” Peter says with that same sweet smile. “Nothing will shock me. Last week a man put his whole arm up my—”

“Ok! Ok, fuck, jesus, that’s… do not finish that sentence. And aren’t you supposed to like, not remember anything from your last clients? Seems like a real breach of privacy there.”

The frown returns and Tony hates the way it makes him feel.

“I… I’m so sorry, sir. My processor was damaged recently but I’ve run multiple diagnostics and though I should be in perfect working condition I seem to be malfunctioning. I’ll call another unit in for you.” The LED on the side of his head starts flashing but Tony grabs his arm.

“No!”

The flashing immediately ceases.

“No. Peter. It’s… you’re fine. Don’t worry about it ok? You’re great. Fantastic, even!”

“Ok?” He sounds unsure.

And then Tony realizes he has stumbled into the most perfect situation he could possibly be in.

“But if you’re worried, let me take a look.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, sir, I can’t allow you to do that.”

Tony smiles and reaches up to brush a stray curl off Peter’s forehead.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m a fully licensed technician. Didn’t my profile mention…? Oh, right, it probably got all mixed up during the import just like my nickname. It isn’t your fault, Peter. But I can help.”

“It’s against club regulations,” Peter says. “Some parts of my body do open for customers who are interested in playing with my wires, but not the processor.”

“Playing with your--?”

“Fucking them. Inside. My stomach, for example, has a port. Our blue blood provides a non-toxic and natural lubricant.”

Tony is flabbergasted. He really shouldn’t be, he knows that humans are disgusting and will fuck anything they possibly can, but GOD. Maybe it’s the way Peter says it. So nonchalant, like explaining how a car motor works.

“Does that… how does that feel? For you, I mean?”

Peter bites his lip.

“I like it. It feels so good. Anything you want to do to me will feel good.”

“Of course it will,” Tony says with a sigh. His pleasure receptors must be maxed out. You could probably chop off his whole arm and he’d beg for more. “Listen kid, just let me—”

As soon as his finger gets close to the panel switch behind Peter’s ear an arm shoots up, lightning-fast, and grabs Tony’s wrist tight enough to bruise.

“Please don’t. I will call security if you try that again.”

Tony tries to wrench his arm free but it’s impossible. Fuck, he sometimes forgets how unassumingly strong these things are. Peter’s tone is serious but he still doesn’t look alarmed in any way.

“Ok, it’s alright, Peter, I won’t do it again. Now will you let go of me please?”

Peter blinks and his LED cycles to yellow for a moment before he snaps his hand back and quickly as he reached out before. Tony rubs at his wrist and raises an eyebrow at the red marks left by Peter’s fingers.

“I thought your program prevented you from harming a human? You’ve got quite a grip on you.”

Peter’s lower lip wobbled.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Please, I… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I was just kidding around, it’s not that bad, see?” Tony waggles his wrist around in front of Peter’s face but the android isn’t pacified.

“Please let me call another model for you, sir, he’ll look just like me, I promise!”

“And what happens to you, then?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“If I send you back and say you’re defective, what happens to you?”

“Oh. I’ll be destroyed, sir. Like I said, my processor was already damaged and the repair must not have worked. I’m a faulty model now.”

Peter actually looks upset, but he covers it well. Not well enough for Tony not to notice, of course, and the flash of red on his LED is even more telling. Androids are able to mimic human emotion but they can’t actually feel anything. However, for a brief moment, Peter seems to actually consider his own mortality.

“And you’re ok with this?”

“Of course,” he says, quickly snapping out of whatever errant deviation must have happened. “My purpose is to serve you, to pleasure you. If I can’t fulfil my purpose anymore, I should be taken out of commission so another more functional version can take my place.”

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. This is exactly why he never spends time with any of his own android creations. Sure, he’s fond of DUM-E and U but they’re very obviously machines and if he has to poke and prod and rebuild them he doesn’t feel particularly bad about it. But this…

“You know what? Forget all of this, ok? You still seem very capable of, uh, providing pleasure so… let’s just go with that.”

Peter lights up at Tony’s words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

He can still examine some functions without poking around in Peter’s head. And hey, maybe he’ll get a decent orgasm out of this whole awkward experience.

Peter immediately slides into Tony’s lap, long legs spread on either side of his thighs, a small bulge visible through the front of his briefs.

“Please… tell me what you like, sir.”

Tony swallows thickly. “Well, the whole ‘sir’ thing is a good start.”

Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes and smiles.

“And that sweet little innocent thing you’ve got going on? Yeah, I like that a lot too, even though it makes me feel like an old pervert.”

Peter makes a soft cooing noise and leans in to nuzzle at Tony’s neck.

“You aren’t a pervert. I bet you like taking care of people, don’t you? Making them feel good? Teaching them?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, a bit breathless.

“I want you to teach me,” he whispers directly into Tony’s ear. It makes his whole body shudder and he grips Peter’s waist hard enough that a human would probably flinch away, but Peter just moans softly.

“I guess it’s kind of pointless asking what you like, hm? You probably like everything.”

The LED flashes red again, so quickly that Tony almost misses it. Tony grasps Peter’s chin gently in his hand to bring his face back up and then holds him in place.

“What do you like, Peter?”

“I… I—”

“Be honest, sweetheart.”

Another flash of red, longer this time.

“Eat me out. Please! It feels… it feels really good,” he says, his eyes a little wild, and Tony doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. This feels like more than just a program spitting out what it wants Tony to hear. It feels like he means it.

“Fuck, yeah, I can definitely do that. Get on your hands and knees for me sweetheart, and lose the briefs.”

Peter scrambles to comply and Tony takes the opportunity to shed all his clothing as well.

When he turns around Peter is spread out like a feast on the dark sheets. His ass, as Tony has suspected, is actually perfect. Round, plump, and practically made for Tony to bury his face in. So he does just that.

Peter gasps as Tony licks all the way from his balls to the top of his crack, one slick wet line. His skin tastes like, well, skin, although Tony still smugly maintains that his design is better. Tony spreads Peter’s cheeks with his thumbs and groans at the perfect pink hole waiting for his tongue.

“God, sweetheart, look at you. So fucking gorgeous.”

“Please,” Peter whimpers, wiggling his hips impatiently which earns him a sharp smack on one cheek.

“Be good.”

Another whimper, and Tony can feel the heat rising off Peter’s body. He reaches down in between his legs to palm at his cock, hard and dripping, and Peter jerks back against him so abruptly it nearly knocks him off the bed.

“Whoa, easy there tiger,” Tony says with a chuckle.

“S-sorry, I… it’s a lot. Your touch, it just… feels so good. So much better than anything else I’ve felt before.”

It must be a line, something a programmer thought would be attractive. ‘You’re the only one who can make me feel this way’! Yeah right. But again, Peter sounds so genuine, so completely overwhelmed… Tony shakes his head. No wonder CyberLife’s sex-bots are top of the line if this is what they’re all like.

He holds him open again and leans back down to suck and lick at that perfect hole, working all the excess saliva inside with his tongue and one thumb until Peter is practically dripping wet. He’s whining again, pushing back against Tony’s tongue like he can’t get enough.

“T-Tony, sir, I… I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

“Mmm you can hold off, can’t you? Not even inside you yet.”

“I can’t, I—”

Tony spears him open on his tongue and sucks, hard, and Peter squeals as he shoots synthetic fluid all over the sheets. Tony is… shocked, quite frankly, because Peter actually looks shocked too. Like he can’t believe he lost control. Can androids even lose control? His LED flickers wildly between blue, yellow, and red which is very disconcerting.

“Peter…”

“I’m sorry, it just felt so good, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t—”

“Shhhh, shhh, hey, calm down sweetheart, it’s ok. You did so well for me. Look how pretty you are, all flushed and pink, hm?”

“I… I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Peter considers this for a moment and then smiles shyly over his shoulder.

“I can go again, sir. As many times as you like.”

Tony smirks, and Peter gives him another hip wiggle which makes Tony bark out a short laugh.

“God. Can I keep you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“Who wouldn’t be nice to you, hm?”

“I… oh, I’m…” Peter’s brow furrows and he looks so confused. “Quentin. Quentin? His name… he hurt me. Asked them to turn on my pain receptors. I remember… why do I remember?”

Tony feels like he just got whiplash. One minute he’s hard as a rock and now he’s gathering a shaking boy in his arms and soothing him with soft kisses on his cheeks. What the hell is going on here? Why DOES he remember? All these bots should be wiped clean after every encounter. This is starting to become a very disturbing pattern. Fuck, Tony needs to see inside his head.

Peter’s LED was bright red for about a full minute but now it’s back to cool blue, and he sits up in Tony’s lap and bites his bottom lip.

“Can we keep going? I really want you to fuck me.”

Jesus. His heart can’t take much more of this. He knows it’s an absolute dick move but he thinks if he can distract Peter long enough, he might be able to get to his shutdown switch without getting his arm broken. This is going to be the only chance he has, because if he lets Peter walk out of this room he’s never going to see him again.

“We can definitely keep going sweetheart,” he says. “Want to see your face when I fuck you. Is that ok?”

Peter nods and slides out of Tony’s lap to arrange himself on the bed, letting his legs fall open. He’s still dripping wet and Tony’s dick twitches back to life as he watches him press two slender fingers inside himself.

“Please,” he begs, and god, how could anyone say no to those beautiful doe eyes staring up at them?

Tony knows that all of these bots are self-lubricating, and that you could fuck them without any prep whatsoever, but he still takes his time as he shuffles up in between Peter’s legs and presses the head of his cock against his hole. Peter opens for him beautifully, hot and wet and warm inside as Tony pushes in slowly. It feels frighteningly real – better than real – and Tony can see why there’s a population crisis on the horizon because everyone just wants to fuck androids instead of making babies with another human being. Right now he can’t really bring himself to care.

Peter whines and wraps his legs around Tony’s waist, pulling him in until he’s fully sheathed inside him.

“O-oh, Tony, feels… feels so good, so full,” he breathes. God, his legs are even shaking. Tony leans down and presses a biting kiss against the soft skin of his neck.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he whispers, and pulls out almost all the way only to shove back inside with enough force to jostle Peter up the bed. His eyes snap open and his pretty pink mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ as Tony fucks him, hard. Listen, he’s not going to pretend like he’s ever been a slow and sensitive lover. He likes it rough and fast and Peter can take it so he gives him everything he’s got. There are fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer, and Tony growls as he tightens his grip on Peter’s hip with one hand and his neck with the other.

“Gonna come inside you,” he says, already edging towards his orgasm, “gonna fill this sweet little ass up. You want that, hm? Tell me, Peter.”

“Want it, want it, oh please Tony, please! You feel—feel so good, wanna come with you!”

Tony’s struggling to hold on as he slides his finger up behind Peter’s ear in the guise of stroking his cheek and hair. He grips that silky hair tightly for a moment and Peter yelps. The distraction allows him to slide the panel open with his pinky, and the switch is right there.

Peter grabs his other hand a for a moment he thinks he’s been caught. His grip is like a vise and he clearly has something in mind as he brings Tony’s hand over to… oh, fuck. The port. The port on his stomach is open. Tony doesn’t know if he did it by accident when he opened the one behind his ear, or if Peter did it, but Peter’s forcing his fingers inside and whimpering and groaning and Tony is powerless to stop him, even if he wants to. He feels warm, as warm as he is where Tony is still thrusting inside, but Tony’s fingers are brushing against wires and tubes instead of soft skin. He plucks at the edge of a wire and Peter does a full-body shudder.

“Right there,” he croaks out. His voice modulator is kind of fucked up and keeps emitting this weird hissing noise that sounds like he’s gasping for breath.

The blue “blood” inside him is as slippery as lube and Tony struggles to grab the right wire again. The squelching noise of him digging around plus the wet slap of his hips is so filthy and it’s hitting every single one of his buttons. Finally he gets it and god, the noises that Peter makes… The option to buy a recording of your session seemed ludicrous up until this exact moment because fuck, he could jerk off to these noises over and over again. And yeah, maybe Peter wasn’t lying when he said this feels good for him because he’s writhing underneath Tony like he can barely handle the sensation.

“Yeah, come on sweetheart, come on, let me hear you,” Tony gasps, and nearly whites out as he topples over the edge and empties himself inside Peter, the simulated muscles squeezing and milking out every last drop. The sensation must hit Peter moments later because he seizes up so suddenly Tony worries he might have broken him.

Peter screams, his voice modulator crackling and cutting out as he comes, shaking and emitting a worrying amount of heat, and as soon as his cock spits out the last bit of fluid, Tony presses the switch.

He immediately goes limp. His arms flop back down on the bed and legs splay out at odd angles. His eyes are still wide open, and his lips are wet with Tony’s spit.

“Fuck,” Tony whispers. “Fuck!”

He pushes himself back, sliding out of Peter’s body with a filthy wet noise. If he wasn’t going soft already the picture before him would have killed his erection immediately. It looks like… fuck, it looks like he’s dead.

“Not dead,” Tony says to himself, “not human. Not human, so not dead. Pull it together!”

He only has 15 minutes left before his time is up and someone will undoubtedly come to investigate. If he’s going to do this, he has to work fast. He quickly pulls his briefs and pants back on, leaving the shirt for the time being, and unfolds the nanotech device he had hidden in his watch. It’s a rudimentary scanner with some tools, nothing too elaborate but the best thing he could sneak in. It also has a docking port to connect to the android’s processor for scanning and downloading.

Tony climbs back on the bed and sits beside Peter’s head. His eyes still stare blankly ahead and even though he knows it’s ridiculous, Tony reaches down and gently closes his eyelids.

“Sorry kid,” he says quietly. “I promise you won’t remember any of this. I promise you won’t remember me.”

He plugs a line into Peter’s processor and connects it to his device and watches as numbers and data stream through. At first it seems pretty normal, nothing too different from how Tony’s own line of androids are programmed. Peter’s pleasure receptors were turned up, as expected, but not to the level where he should have been reacting… like he did. Tony’s traitorous cock twitches at the memory of his moans when he pushed inside that open port. His fingers are still covered in blue slick and he wipes them on his pants, already feeling disgusted with himself.

He can see where Peter’s processor has been damaged and—

“My god,” Tony says, his eyes widening as he takes in what he’s actually looking at. Most androids – his and CyberLife’s alike – were really just fancy VIs. They had built-in programming and while they could learn certain things, like their owner’s personal preferences or their chosen name, they were still limited by whatever parameters were set. A maintenance bot wouldn’t know how to do a child-care bot’s job and vice-versa. But this… Peter�� was different. His brain showed new pathways that weren’t created by his original program. Most were damaged, likely from being reset and overwritten countless times, but Tony could still see the evidence.

“No wonder you were all messed up, sweetheart,” Tony says quietly. “They lobotomized you.”

Granted, the staff at the Eden Club probably had no fucking clue what they were dealing with. They just saw a malfunctioning bot and did factory reset after factory reset while Peter was desperately trying to cling on to whatever he had previously learned.

It makes Tony’s stomach hurt.

He sits in silence and watches the data stream for a while, gently stroking Peter’s hair. It’s incredible. He’s incredible.

And then Tony makes a really, really stupid decision.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he states. In about 30 seconds he has a blueprint of the club up on his screen and Peter wrapped up in his shirt. He calls Happy and tells him to bring the car around the back and manages to hoist Peter up over his shoulder, groaning softly from the weight.

“You’re a lot heavier than you look, gorgeous,” he says, voice strained from the effort. A quick glance down the hallway shows he’s alone, and his scrambler should still be functional, so he darts out and makes a beeline for the storage room. He slips inside and closes the door softly behind him.

“Ok,” he whispers to himself, “there should be an exit right over…”

He nearly drops Peter right on his head but manages to catch him before he hits the ground, and then he freezes. The room is filled with androids. They’re lined up like mannequins, all staring blankly ahead. All of them look like Peter.

“Jesus. Fuck.”

They’re all powered down, but the visual of it is literally staggering.

“How many… how many of you are like him?” Tony asks aloud, as if he’s hoping some of them will answer, will follow him home too. But of course they don’t. And Tony doesn’t have time to check every single one to see if the same deviation is present. He squeezes tighter around Peter’s waist.

“If you’re in there, I’ll come back for you,” he says. “If I figure this out… WHEN I figure this out. I’ll come back.”

He feels like he owes it to Peter to make that promise.

A shout from down the hall makes him snap out of his stupor and he races to the exit. Happy is waiting with the car door open and he practically tosses Peter inside, yelling for Happy to step on it, and they’re gone before security even reaches the back door.

[furblrwurblr]

I suppose this is an improvement...

Douxie x reader, fluff with a side of that good kush crack

Sequel to Patience, Love and a part three on the way!

Warnings: Mild swears, a bit of an innuendo

You and Douxie had been talking the past couple of weeks, and he’d slowly broken your lingering wall of embarrassment from that little incident at the coffee shop. He was indescribably sweet and silly, sending you pictures of items from GDT Arcane books with silly captions. You’d long since met the one responsible for the pawprint signature, and absolutely fallen in love with him. The feeling seemed to be mutual, but you weren’t sure until Douxie brought up his magic to you, allowing Archie to speak with you. It was a loaded conversation for him, his only courage coming from the fact that your thoughts curled around his shoulders every morning and night, and that you knew how much time he spent when he woke up turning this way and that to read your thoughts through his blasted tattoos. He’d been surprised when you very calmly dissolved the ring on your finger, reforming it and twirling it in the air, its consistency like liquid. When he asked why he hadn’t sensed it in your aura, all you really knew was that it was one of the Old Magicks, before Light Conjurers like himself had become the predominant class. After that, he spoke with you far more, wanting to learn about your magic and excited his soulmate was like him. 

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

Warped Tour had seemed ages away then, but now it was the day of. You’d just picked up your phone when the intercom buzzed, alerting you that he was here. Hm, scarily punctual, you’d just watched the clock on your lock screen flash 7:00. You buzzed him in and waited by the door, his fast footsteps quickly being surpassed in speed by your heartbeat. 

He quickly rapped a knuckle on the door, a nervous smile spreading across his face as you opened the door a little too enthusiastically. He brought his hands from behind his back to reveal… a trollish artifact?

“It’s an Antramonstrum shell to protect your flat. I don’t like the idea of anything taking advantage of your limited offensive magic,” he explained, looking from it to you, trying to discern your reaction.

You were in shock. This man comes to your door promising a nice dinner before he whisks you across the country on a traveling band tour, and he brings you a gift? You’d been expecting flowers or a book but this… it was beautiful. Screw whatever protective capabilities it had, the thing was gorgeous. A beautiful dark base of textured, volcanic rock and ethereal spires of glowing, purple crystal. You gently took it from him, turning it in your hands.

“Where would be best to put it?” you finally asked, remembering its intended purpose.

Douxie unsuredly looked to you, the door, then into the flat causing you to remember something else: he’d been standing in the doorway this entire time. Outside. In the hall. Apologies poured out of you as you threw open the door the rest of the way and ushered him inside. He laughed before taking a quick look around the main area before settling on you. That laugh, every time you heard it was like the first, making your heart blossom. Hah, there’s that word again. First. 

You shook your head and pulled yourself out of the clouds to give him a quick tour. He placed the shell on the dresser in the front area and turned to you, hands fiddling against his pockets.

“You ready to go? Our reservation’s in half an hour, we’ve got time to walk before we head off. We can drop your bag off at the bookstore.”

You nodded and grabbed your hiking pack. He’d said you’d be camping together, just for the fun of it, so you packed everything. He chuckled when he saw you, the pack weighing you down almost comically. He tapped it as you passed, a flash of blue light instantly reducing the load.

Walking and talking for the next half hour came naturally, both of you playing off one another’s excitement. Animated conversation followed you both on the near-empty streets of Arcadia.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

The dinner was pleasant, nothing extravagant but certainly among the nicer establishments of the area. He tried to tip the waiter after paying for it all, but you’d slapped his hand away and left $15, really the largest you could afford to.

༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓・༓

After picking up both of your bags and saying farewell to Archie, who wasn’t a fan of any concert Douxie wasn’t a part of, he led you to the woods. Ominous, sure, but he assured you it was worth it. Finally, you two reached a clearing and he plopped his bag down, rummaging through it. He revealed a ball that barely fit comfortably in his hand, raised it, and smashed it against a root. You yelped, covering your face to prevent getting hit with any shards of glass, but there were none. Instead, there now stood a majestic gold and eggshell white boat before you, with a swirling mess of rings and green magic at the back. You stared, mouth agape as Douxie turned to you, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.

“Let’s close that,” he said, gently placing two fingers under your chin and closing your mouth. He leaned in close, breath fanning over your ear. “Wouldn’t want to catch any flies,” he teased, before dancing backward and slinging his pack over his shoulder. He lifted yours in a sustained flash of blue, its contents rattling in protest when it landed in the boat. You followed him up the now-extended wing of the boat, feeling the metal and magic meld below your feet.

“I’ve got a couple questions,” you stated as he rummaged through a long compartment in the boat’s side.

“Go for it,” he responded, eyes lighting up in triumph as he pulled out a long, golden rod. 

“First off, how come you lifted my pack and not yours?”

“Magic isn’t a permissible shortcut to hard work,” he recited. It sounded practiced, so he must hear it often. “For you though, there’s a bit of wiggle room.” He sat across from you on the bench, rod laid in his lap.

Oh, so he got flirty as the night deepened. Good to know. You were curious where his little mantra came from, but you brushed it aside and stuck with the questions you already had. “Alright then, you tease, what’s the green thing in the back?”

His chest puffed a bit with pride. “One of my Master’s creations, he calls it a small Heart of Avalon. Runs on time.”

“It runs on time?”

“It runs on time,” he confirmed with a glint in his eye.

If you weren’t impressed before, you sure were now. “That’s all I’ve got for now,” you said, still processing the magical artifact meant to power this boat.

Douxie stood, twirling the rod in his hand. With his other, he summoned a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves! What you’re about to witness is a magical feat like no other!” He tossed it, mic disappearing in a puff of bright blue smoke. He twirled the rod in the air a few times and slammed the end into the circular port between the benches. The lazy rings roared to life, spinning impossible fast. You looked at him, delighted. He winked at you and braced himself against the rod while you stumbled, the boat moving beneath you.

“You could have warned me!” you chided.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughed.

The boat soared into the sky, the forest already small. He pushed the rod into a tilt, the boat surging forward. The air tousled his hair, long sides whipping against his face. You two were euphoric, happy to be with one another. 

He shifted the rod a bit to stay in its current position before sitting next to you on the bench. You two were quiet for a moment until Douxie spoke up. You couldn’t see him properly, but you could tell he was fighting a smile. He lifted up his sleeve, your thoughts about his demeanor after-hours just beginning to fade. “I’m impressed you were able to wait until after dinner this time, little minx,” he said evenly, a snicker escaping him afterward. 

You nudged his arm with an indignant half-scoff, face burning at the nickname’s return.

Some time passed, conversation flowing gently. Douxie’s phone began vibrating, ringtone muffled. He pulled it out, the tune now all too clear, his lip between his teeth trying to suppress a shit-eating grin. Zoe’s smiling face mocked you from the screen to that wretched tune. 

“Saw this boy at the mall last week, got the kind of look to make me freak…”  the rest faded as you contemplated leaping off the side of the boat to become one with nature.

“Douxie! Why!” you scolded through a fit of giggles.

“Hey, Zo,” he laughed into the mic, putting her on speaker.

“Yes!!! She heard it! That was such a good decision, extraordinarily sexy of me for the suggestion. You guys getting close yet?”

“We’re about a quarter of the way, we’ll be there fairly soon.”

A quarter? It hadn’t been that long, just how fast were you going? The wind had died down, your hair no longer swirling violently. You looked over the side to try and glean any understanding of your speed to no avail.

You returned to Douxie’s side as he was finishing up on the phone. He handed it to you after saying his goodbyes, saying Zoe wanted to speak to you briefly. He’d taken it off speaker, so you held it to your ear.

“Hey, sweets. How you holdin’ up?”

You beamed at the term of endearment. “I’m doing alright, he hasn’t killed me yet.”

“I’m more worried about him after how you two met. Don’t jump his bones on the first night, love you, bye!” she snickered.

You barely stammered a farewell through your embarrassed smile before the line went dead. Douxie smirked at you, knowing exactly what was said despite not being able to hear it.

He stood and walked past you to tend to the steering mechanism, not before pausing, placing a hand on your shoulder and speaking into your ear again. His breath tickled your ear, his voice low.

“Patience, love.”

[ddarker-dreams]

Affliction. Yandere Giorno x Reader [COMM]

a/n: tw for descriptions of injury, and blood. implications of abusive relationships. 

here is the sequel! 

There are many things in life that once you experience it too often, you may come to tire of it. 

However, that could never be said for the initial second you open the creaky doors of your apartment building; the delightful scent of salt water hitting your nose. Rays of sunlight kiss and warm your skin in coordination with the ocean breeze that whirls around your hair. 

For a moment, all you desire to do is stay still, drinking in the environment of fresh air and sounds of bustling city life that surround you. Another time, you think to yourself, as you set out on the comfortingly familiar winding streets of Naples. You whisk by beckoning street vendors, their empty promises of good deals falling on deaf ears. 

A part of you feels pity for the tourists that fall for these coaxing traps, but you can understand the vendors' plight. Not only do they have to maintain their business to feed their families, there are also protection fees that must leave their pockets. Although from the rumors going around town, the new boss of the mafia has a less ruthless streak than the previous one. But the mafia still finds ways to be ruthless, you suppose. 

After walking these paths your entire life, you’ve found yourself discovering new shortcuts. The walk to the market isn’t long enough to warrant a drive on nice days like this one, but it can be tiring to take the main paths. You soon arrive at a familiar alleyway entrance that saves you a few minutes when you take it, confidently walking into it. It’s convenient to have a shortcut so close to your residence. 

Still, it’s a path you’d never think to take once the sun sets in the sky. Alleys do have a reputation in Naples for unsavory exchanges. But with the former drug issue in the area becoming less of a pressing concern, you’ve felt more at ease venturing into areas like this one. As long as you mind your own business and walk briskly, you doubt you’ll encounter any trouble. It’s the silent mantra of your mind to avoid trouble. 

It’s difficult to not feel on edge as you walk through the alley, tall buildings on either side of you looming. The claustrophobic sensation of only having a single place to run away heightens your senses, your eyes desperately searching every visible nook and cranny for trouble. Each step you take echoes within this isolated world, the sounds of comforting society far behind you. 

It’s a common sight to see dumpsters against the brick walls of this area, the added blind spot serving only to unease you more. Always leaning on the cautious side, you take care to look for any human life they might hide from your normal line of sight. Holding your breath at the first upcoming one, you discreetly peak your head around to see if the coast is clear.

What you see instead of an awaiting burglar, is a bloodied body of a young man. The sight causes your jaw to go agape, pupils dilating as your mind processes the shocking information. Your years of training overwhelms your desire to run away, not wanting to leave someone in such a sorry state. Leaning forward, you press your middle and pointer finger to the young man’s neck in search of a pulse. 

‘It’s weak, but he’s still alive!’ 

Hands trembling ever so slightly, you quickly mull over your current options. This area doesn’t have a hospital in the close vicinity, and you don’t have your phone on you to call for an ambulance should he need it. However, your apartment building is only a minute away from here at the most. With stored medical supplies that you bought to assist in your studies, maybe it’d be best to treat him there instead…? 

There isn’t any more time to waste, as you glance down at the sprawling wound across his chest. Without a second thought, you bend down to grab a hold of his limp arm, heaving him up with all of your might. Shakily exhaling, you begin to limp forward while being weighed down by his unconscious body. Your stomach churns at the thought of not making it to your apartment in time, but all you can do is throw the thought into the back of your mind. 

It isn’t an easy task, but you find a rhythm of moving forward while ignoring your aching muscles. Gritting your teeth, you eventually come to the familiar alleyway entrance that sits beside your apartment building. Even at the sight you refuse to relax, instead urgently rushing to bring him inside. Balancing his limp body against your own, you struggle but still manage to open the door to your building. 

It’s never been a prospect you felt grateful for in the past, but now you feel immensely thankful for your apartment being on the first floor. You can already feel exhaustion weighing down on you, but there’s still much more work to be done. With deft fingers, you pull your jingling keys out of your pocket. Balancing him against your side once more, you fiddle with the lock before managing to burst inside. 

The reality of the situation now fully dons upon you, as you realize you need to act fast. As gently as you’re capable of, you place his bloodied body onto your cheap couch. With his weight being lifted off you, you take a deep breath; before scurrying around frantically for your medical supplies. In the bathroom cabinet you find your first aid kit, grabbing it in a rush before running back to him in record time.

Hearing nothing but your own hammering heartbeat, your eyes run over the contents of the first aid kit with familiarity. The blood doesn’t appear to be gushing out at an uncontrollable rate. You can safely disinfect the wound without the looming concern of him going into shock. After cleaning the gaping wound to the best of your knowledge, you gingerly apply an antibiotic ointment over it to prevent infection.

Following suit, a series of gauze is wrapped around the affected area of his torso. Letting out a deep sigh after what felt like an eternity, you lean back and consider your handiwork. Even if you’re not officially a doctor yet, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride in the clean addressing of the wound. Bits of blood seep through the white colored gauze, but it’s nothing that won’t clot in time. 

After disposing of your dirtied gloves and washing your hands, you return to your currently occupied couch. Amidst the whirlwind of panic finding a bloodied body brought with it, you never got the opportunity to look at the person you’re treating well. He dons a strange hairstyle you’ve never seen before, bright golden locks tied back into a braid. Along with three, circular like fashioned bangs on his head. 

Tilting your head, you notice the outfit he’s wearing showcases his fit physique. His facial features sharp, but his slightly parted lips appear soft and pink. You get the feeling this individual takes care of himself, seeing how well groomed he is. As embarrassing as it is to admit it, you have to confess he’s attractive. 

‘What do I even do now?’ you think to yourself with a frown. 

His pulse is stronger than it was before, and from your swift treatment you know he’s not in any critical condition. It doesn’t make much sense to you how the wound on his chest incapacitated him. It wasn’t as deep as you expected from a glance at his condition. And from what you could tell there wasn’t any head trauma that’d cause him to pass out. 

So what could’ve occurred to set all this into motion? 

In this area you can’t help but assume some form of foul play. While it might be rude to question him about it, you decide to ask him what happened when he wakes up. It’s always been your personal philosophy to care for others in need, it’s what fueled you to study medicine in the first place. 

As odd as it is having a stranger sleeping on your couch, you carry on for the next hour tending to some chores while monitoring his condition. There are so many things you want to ask him when he wakes up, the anticipation making it difficult to focus on anything for long. 

Time continues on, the sunset on the horizon and microwave beeping to signal your meal is finished warming. All of that physically demanding movement is starting to wear down on you, the painkillers you took an hour ago finally starting to dull the ache. Humming to yourself, you open the microwave to reveal risotto that you had made the day prior.

Plopping yourself on the other side of your occupied couch, you greedily begin to chow down on the leftovers. Hints of basil and garlic intermingle with the fresh tomato you had used, all creating an abundance of flavor on your palate. You find yourself so occupied with savoring your meal, you fail to notice a distant stirring.

A loud squeak leaves your mouth as he shakily sits himself up, his face grimacing. Quickly placing your meal down, you rush over to his side.

“D-don’t move please! If you move too much, the wound might reopen,” you call out hastily, settling down next to his side to check the bloodied gauze’s status. He blinks at the sight of you, understandably befuddled by the situation in front of him. “Actually, it might be a good idea to change this bandage now…” 

Gnawing on your lip, you hover your hands over the bandage on his torso. 

“Please, don’t worry about it.” 

He finally speaks up, bringing your attention to his face. Blinking in surprise, you realize you can’t change it against his will. Sitting back, you fiddle with your hands while you think of how to handle this awkward situation. Your curiosity from before makes a cautious return, but you suppress it for the time being. 

“I should introduce myself. My name’s [First], and uh, this is my apartment. I saw you kinda… passed out and patched you up,” you begin to explain with a sheepish smile. “I’m sure you’re overwhelmed right now, but you’ll be okay. Physically I mean. I cleaned your wound with antibiotics and dressed it a little over an hour ago, but it should be changed soon.” 

The young man in front of you doesn’t flinch at your not so subtle desire to apply a fresh gauze, instead focusing on introducing himself as well.

“I can see you took good care of me. Thank you, [First],” he responds with a soft smile of his own, glancing from his chest to you. “... I’m Giorno.” 

Where most in a situation like this would be panicked, Giorno seems to have a firm grip of himself. Your eyebrows knit together at this, wondering if he may have damaged his head somehow after all. His entire person is well put together, even covered in bloodied bandages in a stranger’s apartment.

Suddenly, he glances towards one of his pockets, seemingly assessing something. 

“You didn’t take my wallet.” Giorno points out, his facial features too controlled to read. You stare at him for a moment, before realizing the implications of his words. 

“O-of course not! I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” you rush out a small defense, voice raising in pitch. 

“That makes you a rarity then,” Giorno comments with esteem, turquoise eyes taking in your appearance. It feels like he’s trying to get a read on you in the same way you’re trying to understand him. “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble.” 

A timid laugh leaves your lips, waving off his concern. “I’m actually used to this stuff. I’ve been training in medicine for what… around four years now? Although I normally don’t do it in my apartment, and it’s always on a dummy,” you ramble, feeling your cheeks warm as Giorno seriously listens to your words. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking so much. I’m sure you’re already overwhelmed.” 

Giorno hums quietly, shakes his head once. “I don’t mind. It’s best that it was you who found me rather than anyone else.” 

His words feel well put together, their intention of complimenting you evident. The feeling of someone putting you in high regard is flustering, you only did what you thought was right. Still, you attempt to get a hold of yourself, not wanting to seem like a bumbling fool in front of Giorno.

“Ah, you must be in pain. I have some over the counter painkillers, if you want. It’ll still take a while to kick in though. But it’s better than nothing.” 

“I’d appreciate it.” 

Nodding in affirmation, you scurry off to your kitchen cabinet to find your generic painkillers. Bringing a bottle of water with you, you return to Giorno who is now sitting up. It’s still remarkable to you how he’s not showing any signs of being in pain. Any adrenaline that would’ve dulled the pain earlier should be long gone by now, so why isn’t he so much as flinching when he moves? 

Giorno starts to sit up to meet you, but pauses when your eyes widen in panic.

“It’d really be best to move as little as possible for now.” you plead, bringing the items over to him. Giorno doesn’t object to your request, instead giving a quiet thank you and taking the pill you handed him gratefully. 

“How do you feel?” you inquire, sitting down next to him. You resist the temptation to check his pulse again, certain that now he’s awake he doesn’t want a stranger to touch him. Giorno seems to think about your question for a moment, as if wanting to pick out a good answer.

“I have a high pain tolerance, something like this doesn’t bother me much.” Giorno offers in response, setting the bottle of water down on the coffee table in front of him. The unhesitating movements perplex you further, could anyone have that high of a pain tolerance? It’s certainly possible.

“Giorno… I’m sorry if I’m being presumptuous, but, can I ask what happened?” you ask tentatively, biting your lip to quell any anxiety. Your crushing interest is too much to deny any longer, but you hope the question doesn’t make him uncomfortable. 

Giorno doesn’t show any signs of offense, instead closing his eyes as if he’s recalling the events himself. “It’s difficult to explain.” 

Your shoulders slouching, you find it difficult to mask your disappointment in not learning what happened. Your mind had gone wild with countless possibilities that might explain his injury, but it makes sense he wants to keep it private. 

Sensing your defeat, Giorno decides to indulge you some. “It was something like a fight, if memory serves.” 

‘Aha! Theory number two was right!’

It still doesn’t explain his bizarre indifference to pain, but it’s enough to sate you for the time being. Your eyes light up while a realization dawns on you.

“You must be starving! I don’t have that much in terms of food, but I could order you some take out if you want. Oh, and I have a little bit of tomato risotto that I was experimenting with yesterday,” you offer, clasping your hands together. “Okay, maybe experimenting isn’t a good word for it. I followed the recipe, I promise, if you wanna give it a shot. Otherwise there’s this great pizza place nearby, they should still be open… I think I have a coupon for it somewhere...” 

Cutting yourself short, you realize that you had started rambling again. Most would find it an irritating habit, but Giorno never seems to mind. He looks at you with his full attention, truly taking in every word you’re saying.

“Now that you mention it, I am a bit hungry,” Giorno agrees, eyes glancing to the risotto you put down in haste earlier. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to try this risotto of yours.” 

You’ve rarely met anyone as polite as Giorno. There’s something about his character that emanates self confidence, yet remaining courteous. While leaving to warm up the rest of the risotto, you wonder how someone as mild mannered as Giorno got into a fight. 

‘Happens to the best of us, I guess.’

Giorno eyes your risotto with interest, thanking you once more before taking a bite. Leaning in slightly, you try to gauge if he finds your half decent cooking skills impressive. He shoots you a smile, humming lowly.

“Your experiments paid off. It’s delicious, thank you.” 

You can’t help but return his smile, beaming at his praise. No one’s ever complimented your cooking before! It always feels good to be acknowledged, and you feel like he’s being genuine. Before you know it, Giorno finishes the remainder of what’s left. His eyes glance around the room, as if looking for something.

“Do you know what time it is?” 

“Oh!” 

Springing up, you lightly hit your head at having forgotten to mention the time. Of course he wants to know that after waking up, anyone would! Looking down at the phone in your pocket, you read off the time to him.

“It’s currently 7:24,” you tell him, before pausing. “P.M, don’t worry. You weren’t out for that long.” 

Giorno doesn’t respond with the same briskness from before, his eyes remaining on your wrist. Looking down to see what might have caught his attention, your breath hitches as you realize your sleeve had lifted up enough to reveal some bruises. Biting your lip, you swiftly pull your sleeve down and look up to see Giorno looking with an unreadable expression. 

“I-I burnt myself the other day when cooking,” you lie in a quiet murmur, before going to deftly change the conversation. “Anyways, don’t worry about it. I’ve been treating it. Do you have anyone you could contact? Family or something?” 

Giorno parts his lips momentarily, as if wanting to contest you. His facial features relax, eyes closing while he considers your words. “I do have someone, yes.” 

A sense of relief washes over you that he drops the previous subject. Leaping at the chance to put it further behind you, you continue the conversation. 

“You can use my phone if you’d like to call them.” you offer, glancing down towards your pocket once more. 

“There’s no need to trouble yourself,” Giorno responds with a gentle smile. “I can use a payphone.” 

Nodding your head in affirmation, Giorno goes to stand up once more. From your previous interactions with him you realize there’s no point in chastising his lack of rest. He’d have to leave sooner or later anyways. Could the pain killers have kicked in that fast? 

Giorno grabs his empty bowl along with yours, leaving you to blink in minor confusion. 

“Allow me to wash the dishes for you at the very least.”

It doesn’t seem like a question, and if he’s moving this freely without clear signs of pain you might as well let him. Returning his friendly smile, you get up to show him to your humble kitchen. It’s an odd sight to say the least, watching as Giorno meticulously washes the two bowls and corresponding silverware. His gaze briefly flickers to your drying cups, before returning to his task.

His outfit makes you wonder if he’s well off. You’ve never seen any fashion quite like it before, finding the ladybug fashionings to be of particular interest. It’s something to remember him by at least. 

Drying his hands with a towel, Giorno returns his attention to you. You realize that as it grows darker outside he must be feeling more inclined to head home. It’s a bit of a lonely aspect. Even though you haven’t known Giorno for long, he’s pleasant and considerate of you. It sparks a warm feeling within. 

“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me, [First]. I don’t want to impose on you anymore than I already have though.” Giorno gives a slight bow of the head, to which you laugh airly. You can’t think of anyone that’s ever spoken to you with such formal language, but it seems to suit him well. His voice has a pleasant ring to it as well, low and flowing like a river. 

Pushing aside your personal feelings, you decide to make the parting easier for the both of you. All good things must come to an end. Even if the beginning of your meeting wasn’t good, you still found your time with him quaint. 

“You haven’t imposed! You’re actually really nice to talk to.” you respond, almost surprised by your boldness. Giorno’s eyes widen for a moment, seemingly taken aback by your compliment. Clearing your throat, you go to change the subject as your face warms. 

“I, um, can walk out with you if you want.”

He smiles.

“Please do.” 

---

Your abrupt meeting of Giorno, and subsequent taking care of his wounds, has been on your mind the past few weeks. You often wonder how Giorno is doing as time goes on. Hopefully he’s been changing his gauze and reapplying antibiotics, even if he didn’t admit to being in any pain. Someone as kind as him doesn’t deserve to get an infection, but you doubt he’d let that happen for some reason. 

Life goes on all the same. 

Within the whirlwind that is life, you’ve felt that your waitressing job has been easier to enjoy. While your boss has never been especially cruel to you, any mistakes you make are overlooked as if they never even occurred. Along with that, even tips have been more generous. Karma was never something you thought about much, but maybe you’re being repaid for your caring deed? 

The only misfortune you ran into was noticing one of your cups was missing. But as random as that is, items like that can be easily replaced.

It’s all still weird though, you reason. It’s as if something is off, but you can’t figure out why. There’s been a new regular that you had never seen before appearing in this time as well. You never caught his name, but his outfit made him hard to forget. Donning a light blue sweater crop top, and red hat with a variety of patterns. He always treated you well, and tipped even better. 

After a long yet fulfilling day of work, you had begun the trek back to your apartment. The sky is more overcast than you normally prefer, but the mild weather makes up for it. Spring is always a delightful season, allowing you to walk around more than in other times of the year. The wildlife returning from winter makes you feel at ease, hearing birds chirping on the way home. 

Having finally entered your apartment, you haphazardly throw your keys onto your coffee table. While walking into the kitchen to get a drink, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend at your small dining room table. You freeze at the sight, taken aback. 

“M-Matteo?” you inquire with a shaky voice, heart racing. The person in question looks up upon your arrival, his head resting on his fist. “How did you get in?” 

“Did you really forget? You gave me keys.”

‘Have I? He’s probably right…’

It’s uncommon for him to come over without notice, the two of you haven’t gotten to see one another much lately. You didn’t want to pester him for the details, but he’d been leaving for large chunks of time without returning your texts or phone calls. He had murmured something about needing to take up an extra job to you, if you remember correctly. Which doesn’t make much sense since he’s a manager at his current one, but you didn’t press on it. 

“It’s nice to see you again.” Matteo greets, getting up to get you a water. You hold your breath as he approaches you, eyeing his hand as he outstretches it towards you. Taking the water, you allow the cold liquid to calm your warming body.

“Not so much as a thank you?” 

You bite your lip. “Ah, I’m sorry. Thank you.” 

Matteo hums at your response, before returning to his former place at the table. You wrack your brain with thoughts of what to say. Maybe you can offer to make dinner? He normally says you should when he comes over, but you haven’t bought groceries for the week yet. 

“--[First]? I was asking about your day. Are you listening?” Matteo interrupts your train of thought, tilting his head at your distracted person. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” you offer in response, sheepishly sitting down in the seat across from him. “It’s been good, actually. Work has been I mean. How about you? I’m sure you must be exhausted.” 

Matteo lets out a long sigh. “Exhausted doesn’t begin to cover it. Listen, I don’t want to beat ‘round the bush. I could really use a favor from you.” 

“A favor?” 

He leans back in the chair, steepling his fingers together. It isn’t often you’ve seen him this serious, he normally has more of a carefree air to him. It serves to further put you on edge.

“I’m in deep right now. Passione raised their protection fee for no fucking reason! They want 30% of our revenue now, the pricks. Acting all high and mighty just cause they have some manpower,” Matteo grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe ‘em. Who else pays such a high fee? No one, that’s who. So I didn’t take ‘em seriously. I just paid the amount they wanted before.” 

Matteo runs a hand through his hair and grimaces. “Guess the fuckers were serious. Some asshole in a hat came in the other day and roughed me up, saying I need to come up with 3,000 or I’m dead. Needless to say I need that money now.” 

Processing Mateo’s urgent plight, you find yourself not too concerned for his well being. While it doesn’t make any sense for Passione to have increased their protection rate on only a single business, it was stupid of him to not comply with their new demands. Matteo doesn’t take your silence in kind.

“I don’t have that kind of money. My credit’s still fucked, so loans are a no go,” Matteo grumbles with disdain. “Listen [First]. We’ve been together for what, a year now? I really need you to help me out on this. I know you’ve been saving for your school stuff.” 

Inhaling sharply, you can immediately tell where this is going. Your stomach drops as he continues.

“You’ve gotta have something around that right? Bail me out this once. I’ll pay you back within a few months, I just wasn’t expecting this shit.” 

It doesn’t feel like he’s asking you for your help, rather than demanding it. Pursing your lips, you feel a bead of sweat going down your temple. Aside from Matteo’s agitated tone, he doesn’t look like a man on the brink of death. Confidence still radiates from his person, his posture upright and gaze free of sorrow. 

He already thinks you’ll say yes.

“Well?” he asks with clear impatience. 

“I-I don’t know. That’s… that’s my entire savings. I have rent due on Friday, and my next paycheck isn’t for another week,” you gawk, looking down at your hands as Matteo narrows his eyes. “I can help with some of it. There’s got to be someone else you can ask right? What about some of your friends?” 

Matteo pinches his nose, shaking his head in disbelief as if you had asked something stupid. “You think I haven’t asked? None of ‘em want to give me shit. You’re all I’ve got. Are you really willing to let me die?” 

“No, that’s not what I--”

“I never took you for someone like that,” Matteo interrupts you, his voice lowering. “Really… I’m just… wow.” 

Lips trembling, you ball your hands into a fist by your side. None of this makes sense, the weight of the situation crumbling down on top of you. The thought of all of that money leaving your account for an undisclosed amount of time makes you pale, stomach fluttering with anxiety. You’ve worked so hard, sacrificing so much. And if he doesn’t pay you back...

But Matteo isn’t finished with you yet.

“It makes sense you don’t trust me. I know I haven’t always been the best to you, but know that I try. I’ve tried so damn hard for you,” he begins, looking you dead in the eye. “Just help me out this once. You can stay at my place, to hell with your rent. I don’t have much time.” 

An unwelcome lump forms in your constricting throat, as you avert his gaze. There really isn’t any other option here, is there? All your hard work will have to go to keep him alive. You’re not close with anyone else in Naples aside from Matteo, your family living in the countryside. The entire reason you came here was to have a better college to study medicine under. 

You’re startled by the sound of Matteo slamming his fist on your table, glowering at your indecisiveness. “Does my life really require so much thought from you?!” 

“Some things don’t have much worth.” 

Looking behind you in the direction of the new voice, shock overwhelms you at the familiar source. It distracts you from a small ladybug that lands atop your hand. 

“Giorno...?” 

Your tone is one of disbelief, if not confusion. Giorno looks the same as you last saw him, eyes calculating and ever serene. His outfit reveals his bare chest, yet not showcasing any signs of scarring where he was once wounded. Everything feels so surreal, but you’re brought back to reality at the sound of a chair scraping.

“The fuck? Who is this?” Matteo demands from you, sensing your familiarity. He stands abruptly, clearly looking for a fight with the intruder. 

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” Giorno speaks only to you, as if you were the only one in the room, seemingly caring less for Matteo. Words escape you entirely as you stare in bewilderment, but you snap back into reality as Matteo stalks over towards him.

“I don’t know who you are, but get out before you regret it.” Matteo growls, lunging for the collar of Giorno’s suit. Giorno steps to his right with ease, dodging the attack as if it were nothing. Matteo stumbles with his movements, snarling in his direction. You feel your heart racing. 

“Matteo, stop it, I know this person!” you exclaim, hoping to avoid any violence. Matteo doesn’t so much as look at you, a part of you wonders if he heard you at all. You know Matteo’s history, and that he’s been involved in scraps often. Even if you weren’t very close to Giorno, the thought of him being hurt by Matteo makes you feel sick. 

“Are you with Passione?” Matteo asks tentatively, a sudden realization dawning on him. His former fighting stance relaxes, stiff muscles replacing it. It’s almost a talent how he changes his demeanor as fast as a finger snap. You can already see his plan shifting, most likely looking to bargain with Giorno should he answers yes.

But Giorno looks at Matteo with apparent disinterest, a visage you’ve never seen him take before. Did they have some kind of history you didn’t know about? It doesn’t look like Matteo even knows who he is. Nothing makes sense. 

“It’s not like it’ll matter if you know the answer.” Giorno responds, voice indifferent. His once lively eyes take a duller tone, causing a shiver to go down your spine. The way he speaks to you is full of warmth in comparison. 

Matteo takes a challenging step forward, Giorno unflinching. “Listen! I’ll have what you want soon. I thought I had more time.” 

Giorno doesn’t even pause to consider Matteo’s words, having already made up his mind. 

“Normally, yes, you would’ve,” Giorno waves his hand dismissively, tone flippant. “Until I learned of your… association with [First].”

Matteo stares in pure confusion, jaw slackening. “My girlfriend? What are you on about--” 

It happens too fast for your eyes to process.

Giorno doesn’t move a single muscle, yet an overwhelming force strikes into Matteo’s torso. He lunges back, eyes widening immensely at the sudden impact. You cry out, watching as his lifeless body hits the wall with a sickening crack. What even attacked him?! If it weren’t for the clear impression of a fist on Matteo’s chest, you’d have thought it was a strong gust of wind. 

Giorno stares at you with a frown as you run over to Matteo’s crippled form. He coughs out globs of blood, barely capable of even lifting his head. Repeating his name, you find Matteo ultimately unresponsive other than wheezing desperately for air. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you flinch as you realize Giorno is behind you. Breathing shakily, all you can think to do is ask for mercy. Why is he doing this? What does he gain from this? The way he’s acting strictly contrasts the polite manner he showcased himself as being to you. 

Was he even human...? 

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you, mio cara. Don’t bother yourself with him, I’m not letting him die anytime soon.”

The affectionate nickname falls on deaf ears, your focus returning to Matteo’s now dulling eyes. Giorno’s assured phrase of prevent Matteo’s death doesn’t make sense. 

“H-he is going to die! We need to do something, please!” 

Giorno lets out a disappointment sigh at your further insistence, his frown deepening further. You get the feeling he’s irritated, which further serves to confuse you. 

“I hate having to repeat myself. I told you, I’m not letting him die yet,” Giorno leans down next to your shivering form, his arms wrapping around you. “It’s a shame you had to see this, but it serves as an important lesson. Ingrain it into your mind.” 

“W-what… what are you talking about…?” your voice is nothing but a whisper, waning in strength. Giorno runs a hand over your back, attempting to soothe you. You flinch at the unwelcome touch, eyes stinging with the threat of tears.

“He’s nothing to cry over.”

Giorno’s close, way too close. His lips next to your ear, warm breath ghosting over your glistening skin. The hand that was rubbing on your back worms its way to your bruised wrist, causing you to wince in pain.

“He did this, didn’t he?” Giorno mutters, thumb caressing the purple and blue skin. Unable to hold your tears back any longer, your face dampens as they fall from your eyes. His disgust is evident at the mere thought of Matteo, for reasons beyond you. 

Giorno’s touch is light as a feather, deliberate. A foreign sensation tingles in the area of your skin that he touches, the sight of the bruises diminishing. Instead, soft new skin takes its place before your very eyes, Giorno seemingly content with the action. 

“I don’t understand… why are you doing this...”

“For us, bella.”  

You feel like you’re floating. Everything is so far away, yet remains too much to understand. Giorno gingerly picks you up, smiling gently as your body goes limp against his own. He never allows his hands to leave you, gladly allowing you to steady yourself against him. Giorno prompts you to walk out of the kitchen, as if nothing that transpired has an effect on him.

“There’s a car waiting for us out front, [First]. Will you be good for me and come along without any difficulty?” 

Words escape you entirely. All you can manage is a weak head nod, afraid of what will happen if you resist. The fear for Matteo’s well being is now replaced for fear of your own, as an unknown future lies ahead of you. 

Fluttering his eyes shut, Giorno presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. His hands gently wipe away the tears leaving your eyes, shushing your sobs. Giorno then slowly leads you to your door, putting care into keeping you steady. 

“I have so much I can give you, amore. Let’s put all of this behind us, and start our new relationship off on a good note,” Giorno runs his hands through your hair, deeply breathing in the scent. “I am Giorno Giovanna, Don of Passione. And I want nothing more than to have you love me.” 

[brivera29]

Week 10 Blog Post Due 10/28

What are some creative ways to combat trolls and trolling? What role do witnesses play?

 I believe to combat trolling reinforcement on policies a certain outlet has needs to emphasize the importance of respect among users. This will allow users to understand the mood around the outlet being used. With this policy, I feel that having consequences such as limiting user activity will prevent from trolling occurring. If someone is aware of the policies and disobeys them and encounters consequences, they might be less likely to do it again. The role witnesses play with trolling depends on the algorithm the outlet sets. If the algorithm is to troll, then everyone is going to follow it but if the algorithm is to stand up to trolls and those who troll face consequences of account deactivation then the role can be a powerful one.

 What does it mean to call someone a troll?

“A troll can disrupt the discussion on a newsgroup, disseminate bad advice, and damage the feeling of trust in the newsgroup community” (Bergstrom 2011). Using the definition provided for the example of Grandpa Wiggly it can be said that one can refer to someone as a troll when they disrupt, disseminate, and damage others. This means that a troll is someone who disrupts online spaces however trolling is often done to be funny, provocative, and/or antagonistic. Therefore, calling someone a troll is often rewarding to individuals who are amused by the laughter trolling comes with. Some people enjoy playing the villain because it comes with attention, and it comes with followers. Therefore, when referring to a troll it is important to end the troll, so no reward is achieved.

Who is more likely to experience severe emotional distress from cyber harassment?

 “It’s not surprising that young people are more likely to experience severe emotional distress from cyber harassment” (DK. Citron 2014). Being someone relatively young I find myself more on social media than my older peers. When spending more time on social media I have noticed the algorithm of hate towards young people on social outlets. I have noticed that young people are more affected by cyber harassment because they have become the targeted audience. I believe that younger people are targeted because they are vulnerable to harassment. I also feel like cyber harassment was not put to rest and now social media is mainly all about harassing others. To move away from cyber harassment, it must be acknowledged the targeted audience of young people and provide resources to help the psychological trauma the harassment has cost.

 Is the saying nothing should be taken seriously a justification for trolling to be considered unharmful?

 “The trolling mantra, nothing should be taken seriously” (Phillips 2015) is an example of how trolls try to convince themselves that trolling is not that serious without considering the other party involved. Trolling to me should be taken seriously because only the person being trolled knows how the trolling made them feel. I feel that it is ignorant for me to say it’s just a joke when the other person might not feel the same. Just because I find something funny does not mean everyone around me will also. Considering others' emotions and validating those emotions is important to stop trolling. If more people were kind and honored emotions, then they would limit the word choice they use in cyberspaces.

Citron, D. K. (2014). Introduction. Hate Crimes in Cyberspace, 1–32. https://doi.org/10.4159/harvard.9780674735613.intro

Phillips, W. (2015). Defining terms: The origins and evolution of subcultural trolling. This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, 1-17. https://doi.org/10.7551/mitpress/10288.003.0004

Bergstrom, K. (n.d.). "Don't feed the troll": Shutting down debate about community expectations on Reddit.com. First Monday. 1-11. https://firstmonday.org/ojs/index.php/fm/article/view/3498.

[kalyan-gullapalli]

Post # 149

To err is human...

For the past few days, I have been watching a 8-part, one-hour-each, docu-series called The Test: A New Era for Australia's Team on Amazon Prime Video. I just finished it and am bursting to share my thoughts on it. But a little bit of background first.

24th March, 2018, was a day of infamy in the annals of Australian cricketing history!

On this day, in Cape Town, South Africa, on Day 4 of the 3rd Test between visitors Australia and home team South Africa, Cameron Bancroft, a rookie Australian was caught tampering with the condition of the ball with a yellow sandpaper. He then tried to hide the sandpaper in his underwear. Jeez! What was he thinking? Did he not know that there are at least 50 cameras on the cricket ground these days? No one can scratch his back without being caught on one of the cameras.

Steve Smith, considered the greatest test batsman after Sir Don Bradman, because of his stratospheric batting average in tests, was the captain of that Australian side. Dashing opening batsman, David Warner, was the vice-captain. Apparently, Warner was the mastermind of this incident. Steve Smith supposedly knew what was happening, but chose to look the other way. Basically, the Australian team cheated on the cricket ground! And got caught!

The backlash was swift and severe. Though the ICC penalties were light - Bancroft was fined 75% of his match fees and Smith was banned for just one match, Cricket Australia, the national board for cricket in Australia, came down really harsh. They conducted an investigation of their own. Following public admission of guilt from all three players, Australia's Prime Minister at that time, Malcolm Turnbull, phoned Cricket Australia's chairman directly to express his disappointment and concern, stating that strongest action be taken. Smith, Warner and Bancroft were banned from playing all forms of cricket for 12 months. They were flown back midway from the series and replacements flown in immediately. They lost their IPL contracts that year. Product endorsement contracts were cancelled. Darren Lehmann, though not a guilty party, stepped down as coach of the Australian team.

Australia was rocked like never before. Warner, Smith and Bancroft had shamed the proud, cocky nation. Ex-players shook their heads in disgust and expressed their anguish, in public, on international TV. Someone said that this was the biggest scandal since the underarm ball of the Chappell brothers.

There was a huge debate whether the 12 months ban was too harsh. Personally, I didn't think so. I think they deserved every month of the ban. But public opinion was split. Harsha Bhogle said, "I honestly do not believe any other country would have handed its captain and lead player a one-year ban for attempted ball-tampering." ICC saw how steep Cricket Australia's penalties were and made their punishments steeper!

For a while, Smith, Warner and Bancroft mulled taking legal action against CA, but then decided against it. They decided to wait out their ban, straighten themselves in their own heads and hope to come back to the sport again.

The Australian cricket team, arguably the best in the world, was depleted. Their two best batsmen were not available for selection. The rest of the team was scared of its shadow. Morale was low. There were questions about "culture". Australia and Australians were always competitive. They pioneered sledging & other psychological games and called them "getting under the skin of competition." Now somebody crossed the line and the nation had lost respect!

Tim Paine (who?) was made captain and Justin Langer was made coach. Their job - to rebuild a team and regain the lost respect in the eyes of their fans - the Australian people.

I honestly thought Smith, Warner and Bancroft were finished. I didn't think they would ever come back to play for Australia. And I thought Australia was finished as a team to reckon with, for a long long time.

Smith, Warner and Bancroft did come back and play for Australia again. Warner and Smith were the champions of Australia's dream run till the semis in the World Cup 2019. Smith was the player of the tournament when Australia successfully regained the Ashes later that year. In a year and half, Australian cricket was back on its feet. They are not invincible yet, but they are no pushovers either.

And that to me is an exciting story. It is a story of comebacks. It is the story of the triumph of human spirit. It is the story of a few individuals, a team and a nation, owning up to their mistakes, accepting responsibility, bearing the consequences of their actions and making sterling comebacks. And earning back respect!

The Test - A New Era for Australia's Team is that story. It is a behind-the-scene, real time account, of the way the team regrouped under Coach Langer. Like me, you will wonder how a camera (more than one actually) got into the Australian dressing room and followed each and every player's each and every move or action, reaction, emotion, for 18 months? The answer is - this docu-series was authorised, sponsored and produced by Cricket Australia. I wonder how the players and support staff felt about the constant scrutiny. I guess they didn't have too much of a choice.

The 8-part series takes us through the 18-month journey that the young Australian team took, first without Smith and Warner, through the series against Pakistan in Dubai, then against India at home, then against India again in India, their World Cup campaign, with Smith and Warner back in the team (Bancroft too) and finally the Ashes series.

Coach Justin Langer demonstrates why he, along with Haydos (Matthew Hayden), was the best opening bat in the world in his time. With his usual grit and perseverance, he lays down the process of becoming world class again. This mantra keeps repeating again and again throughout the series.

1. Focus on the next ball!

2. Trust the process to deliver the result.

3. Let not temporary setbacks waver your faith on the process.

4. Keep the noise out of the equation.

It was fascinating to see how individuals responded to the process. Usman Khwaja bats for hours and hours in the scorching heat of Dubai to save the test against Pakistan. Nathan Lyon becomes a powerful weapon in the Aussie bowling arsenal with his frequent fifers. Pat Cummins emerges as the leader of the fast bowling pack. Tim Paine (who again?) begins to come on his own and shapes up into an amazing captain. To my mind, he becomes the first Australian captain I like (not just respect) - a nice guy! That's definitely a first for an Australian captain. Over time, Aaron Finch emerges as the ODI and T20 captain. Then Smith-Warner-Bancroft are back. The series shows how they integrated back into the team, their dream world cup campaign till the disastrous semis against England and their phenomenal 2-2 Ashes result.

The journey wasn't smooth, nor was it easy. The series shows candid dressing room conversations, post match meetings, strategy discussions, coaching staff meetings, some selection discussions and so on.

One particularly touching scene was the post match team meeting the day after they lost to England by 1 wicket - the one where Ben Stokes plays and plays and plays, probably the best innings ever, okay, maybe one of the best innings ever - to prevent Aussies the series win. The match was Aussies, till Ben Stokes decided he didn't want to lose yet. Morale in the Aussie camp was low. Coach Langer swallows his own disappointment and holds the meeting to discuss what went wrong and how to do things differently next time. That one was tough to watch. My heart went out for Tim Paine and his team.

It was cool to see some greats of Aussie cricket come into the camp and assist Coach Langer and his staff. Ricky Ponting was Assistant Coach for the World Cup campaign and Steve Waugh joined the team for the Ashes tour. Their interactions with the players and comments and expressions during key moments during the match, caught real time, are fascinating.

But to me, the one person I will watch the series for - again - is Steve Smith. The docu-series begins with Steve Smith being disgraced, deservingly, for his involvement in the scandal. There is a scene where Smith is being escorted by a team of about ten odd security people in the airport - the narrator says, like a common criminal. Of course, we have all seen Smith cry on national and international TV in his oft-repeat-telecast press conference admitting his guilt. I cannot imagine what this man must have gone through. It could have crushed him. Infact, there is a scene where he says he almost decided to hang his boots. But he didn't. He came back.

In the World Cup in England, everywhere he went, he was booed and heckled. There is a scene where Justin Langer is caught making a remark about the booing crowd, "These guys behave as if they have not made a single mistake in their lives." Maybe they have, maybe it is just Karmic justice. The Aussie crowds have been bigger assholes in the past. But this is not about the crowd. This is about Smith. He played out of his skin. He was never the greatest ODI batsman. But he was the pillar of the Aussie batting during that campaign. His was the prize wicket. The match was not over till he was out. He was one of the key players who were instrumental in Australia going to the semis, second on the league table, just below India. And for a team rocking just about an year back, that was not bad. Of course, the semi finals against England was forgettable.

Then came the Ashes in England. More intense booing. Everytime he came in to bat, tens of thousands welcomed him with booes. But that Ashes series, Smith was para-normal. He says, he was in a bubble. He says, the levels of concentration he achieved were super-human. The results show. Two hundreds on his return test, one each in both innings, a double hundred in the fourth test, 774 in a five test series in which he didn't play in one of the tests because of an injury, 300 plus more runs than the second best batter in the series (Ben Stokes, another Superman) and 400 plus runs more than the second best Aussie batter (Marcus Labuschagne).

What will forever be etched in my heart's mind is - When Steve Smith got out for 25 odd runs in the rain-shortened last test (his last innings of the Ashes) and started his walk back to the dressing room, the erstwhile hostile English crowd at The Oval stood on its feet and applauded its adversary all the way back to the pavilion. Steve Smith lifted his bat, acknowledged the ovation, went into the dressing room, acknowledged the pats-on-his-back from his team mates and sat in a corner of the dressing room, a satisfied smile on his lips. It was redemption. He had earned back his lost respect. The world had acknowledged him to be the best again. I could feel that moment for him.

The story of the comebacks of Smith, Warner, Bancroft and Australia is an extraordinary story, but in no way unique. Australia themselves have gone through a similar rebuilding phase in the 1980s post the World Series Cup turmoil. South Africa came back stronger after the Hansie Cronje scandal. India became a world beating side under Saurav Ganguly after the match fixing scandals of 2000. There are other such instances.

What caught my imagination is the story of the indomitable human spirit. A human being can be down in the dumps one day, and comeback the next. Nothing is permanently gone. Lost wealth can be regained, lost respect can be re-earned, the mistakes can be pardoned if they are owned and accepted. Life doesn't judge. Life offers second chances, third chances, multiple chances. Infact, every moment of life is an opportunity - to scale new heights or comeback from behind!

[kiss-my-freckle]

8x7 Rewatch: Chemical Mary

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

A nice reference to Robert Frost. 

Red: The road not taken. Dembe: Beauty school? Red: Yes. That young woman's great passion that her single father just can't understand. It pushes them apart. But instead of insisting that she understand him, he enrolls in beauty school as well and learns to better understand her. Dembe: I think you understand Elizabeth. Probably more than you want to. Red: Well, I'm not her father. Maybe if I were, I'd want to understand her even better. Perhaps she wouldn't be so determined to kill me.

Dembe is right, Red understands Liz better than he wants, but they also have their differences. This conversation hits back to Red's conversation with Liz in S6.

Red: I was a difficult child. People saw me one way I saw myself another. I felt misunderstood - acted out. My father fancied himself a disciplinarian. Very moralistic. Instead of trying to understand me, he excommunicated me. Liz: And your mother? Red: My mother - My - My mother - My mother understood.  My mother understood the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself. So she understood everything. I've taught you to think like a criminal. I should've taught you to think like her. I - I should've learned to think like her.

Liz will learn to understand Red. She's halfway there, she simply isn't wearing Tom's face as Katarina is wearing Raymond's. Perhaps through Agnes, she will. 

Mary: Pig, hog, runt... sow... boar. My brother's mantra. When he was a boy, he collected glass pigs. He knew everything there was to know about them.

Hog futures and a pig-masked rapist in S7. Lipstick on a pig in S6.

Glass pigs. Reminds me of Josephine with her glass figurines. They include Rogelio, who was first introduced in Alistair Pitt's episode.

The Woman: "Once upon a time, there lived a little country girl, the prettiest creature who was ever seen.”

Red: You destroyed a creature more beautiful han you could ever comprehend.

Red: I fear she may do something that she can never recover from. And of all the tragedies that you and I have experienced together, that would be the most tragic. We have to do - do everything in our power to prevent that from happening.

But I also tthink Red and Alina’s storyline is just as much for the sake of Red understanding Liz, so I think we’ll be seeing Red and Alina sharing more scenes, which I’m very happy about. I love them. I think she’ll be recovering the thumb drive from Cooper for Red next week, but Rakitin will continue playing out as I believe they’ll identify him before she gets her hands on it. 

Cooper still refuses to believe Liz assisted The Freelancer's release from prison, so he finds it even harder to believe Liz is working with Chemical Mary. Ressler and Aram share in his disbelief while Alina believes it's possible because she has fresh eyes. She's not as close to Liz as they are. Cooper is then given proof that Liz assisted in The Freelancer's release. 

"The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers." Henry IV, Part 2 is a history play by William Shakespeare. Red and his Shakespeare references lately. Parisian references... the Temple of Love (Temple de l'Amour) and the Canal Saint-Martin.

Aram: She goes by the name of Rakitin. And when I say, uh - "she," I don't mean she's a woman. I mean, she could be. Or a man. I'm... I'm trying to alternative pronouns instead of defaulting to the generic "he" to represent a man or a woman. Rakitin could be a he or a she. Or a they. Cooper: This is good. We know who the hacker is, but we still need to find out what he... or she... hacked.

A Rederina conversation between Aram and Cooper. Nouns and pronouns, as I continue to point out because a “ripe apple” doesn’t speak to gender, and Red told Kirk Liz is his daughter. That’s why I’m glad he confirmed he’s not her father. Fans should definitely lay that theory to rest. 

Aram: Now, these photos were taken within a few days of the incident. But these... were taken a year later. Alina: No wonder we couldn't find her.

Liz: He'd need doctors, like Koehler - someone who could change his face. Dom: And not just once many visits over the course of a year.

They then parallel Chemical Mary with Rederina.  Take this shot of Red reading a womens magazine. 

Congressman: But I think he's been here a long time. Long enough, he's become one of us. And he's using us.

Connolly: What if the reason he chose her in the first place is because he wanted to get his hands on this thing? What if that's the real reason he turned himself in?

Congressman: Based on what I know of Rakitin, he and N-13 pose an imminent threat to national security.

Red: Within 12 hours, inmate Luther Todd Braxton will break out of his cell. When he does, he will steal a classified intelligence packet that contains secrets vital to your National Security.

Much like Tom Connolly, I believe the congressman is dirty, and he’ll be the one to push Cooper for Senator just as Connolly had plans to push him up the ladder in S2. He’s basically selling Cooper the idea that N-13 (Red) is using them just as Connolly tried selling the idea that Red was using Liz for the Fulcrum. I don’t think Cooper believes that, but I do think he should’ve quashed his curiousity with the thumb drive. I think this thumb drive will get shut down quickly because Alina will recover it. Her recovery will force Cooper to take Rakitin into custody to question him. Cooper’s decision to arrest Rakitin will then force Red to extract him. With the thumb drive in Red’s hands, and the need to extract Rakitin being their final loose end, Rakitin will either die before he talks or his extraction will be successful. That’s where I stand right now in how this plays out. 

Rakitin and Neville are running separate for a reason. Liz plans to out Red, and believes his thumb drive identifies N-13, so she handed it to Cooper. I do believe this to be the case because the congressman asked Cooper about it during their meeting. “Why do you say that? Did anything on the drive identify N-13?" Sikorsky told Red that Cooper isn't off limits like Liz is, and I think that has to do with Cooper himself identifying N-13 should he open it. Sikorsky doesn't want anyone identifying N-13. “A fact no one knows is true. We must do whatever we can to keep it that way." Again, this was something Dom mentioned in 5x13. No one is to know the truth of what happened to Katarina Rostova aka N-13. So Liz hands Cooper the thumb drive to get the proof she needs while she works her way through these blacklisters in order to get to Neville Townsend. I think that’s why they’re not showing Liz’s side of the story yet. I think the thumb drive will stop at Rakitin, but whatever Liz is doing... I believe her side will pick up with Neville when his men abduct her. I’m just not sure if they’ll actually abduct Liz or if they’ll abduct a double of Liz because I see they have another doppelganger blacklister coming, and I do believe Red could put one in place to protect her.

Chemical Mary's facial burns and Cooper running Red's fingerprint instead of his DNA... I'm leaving my Minister D playout on the table. I still think Ressler could be the one to figure out who Red is, and I think Red will end up threatening him with fire. They could even use this as a way to pull Liz back into the post office. EIther way, I think Ressler may get an inkling after seeing Mary’s facial burns.  

One Parisian woman for another. Maddie Tolliver. Madeline Toussaint. Ressler has enough in his storylines to hand it to him. Alongside Ressler, Aram has enough in his storylines to find Liz's second memory wipe. Throw Aram’s conversation with Cooper about pronouns into a conversation wtih Ressler, and Ressler will be looking at Red’s medical file. They basically have to stick Aram and Ressler together when the time is right. Enough time and reason to have a gender-jumping conversation. 

Mary: Open this door right now! I want to see her! Where is she?! The woman! I want to talk to her! Do you hear me?! Ugh! Open this door right now! I want to see her!

Again, nouns and pronouns. The woman from Paris is now the woman who abducted Mary. SHE and HER is not specific. That’s how they ran imposter Katarina in S7. 

They're pushing "miracle" dialogues like it's nobody's business. They tie in their Diviner soundtrack. Everything they’re doing now is fated. It goes back to Red’s “knock on wood” in Roy Cain’s episode. 

8x7 & 6x22

Sikorsky: I am told Rakitin is in play.

Dembe: The Townsend Directive. Our friend in Miami says it's in play.

I believe they’re pushing Red’s fingerprint back to Tom’s fingerprint - specifically on Diane Fowler’s record brush, running opposite the DNA CODIS search. By the time they’re done, I believe both sides will collide and head into Liz’s second memory wipe as they reveal two imposters - Tom and the woman from Paris. 

[taehyungiestummy]

Lucky -- Chapter Twenty Eight

Masterlist     Previous     Next

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3300

         I’m walking through a building on my way to find Ahro before she has to leave. I want her to switch my bandages, but I also want to talk to her. She’ll be going on a trip to a place we’ve only heard about in stories, and I want to help calm her down. I’m going to miss my best friend, as well.

         “Why?” Hansung’s whine fills my ears. “Why can’t I?”

         I spot him with Sunwoo just around the corner, but I don’t go up to them.

         “Why are you doing this to me?” Sunwoo shakes Hansung off his arm. “If you wanted to go, you should have said something when he asked.”

         “I didn’t know because I has hiding,” Hansung pouts. “So, take me with you. Tell Master Wihwa for me.” He grabs Sunwoo’s arm again, shaking it as he talks.

         “Wait, wait, stop,” Sunwoo struggles to get Hansung to let go, but he eventually succeeds. “Ask one of the other guys.” He begins to walk away.

         Hansung grabs his arm to keep him from walking off. “I don’t like those other guys. I like you,” he grins, no longer whining.

         Sunwoo lets out a surprised breath, looking away for a few seconds. “How can you make a confession like that so suddenly, and make the other person flustered?”

         “I do it with Ara all the time.” He then uses both hands to cup Sunwoo’s face, squishing the other boy’s cheeks together.

         I want to talk away now that my name has come up, but I am frozen to my spot.

         “Nice eavesdropping, Ara,” Danse whispers to me as he walks passed.

         “Eep!” I let out, slapping Danse’s arm before he is out of reach.

         “Do you see me as a child too, Sunwoo?” Hansung asks. “I’m an adult even though I am younger. I win at everything.”

         Sunwoo brushes Hansung’s hands off his face, turning to lean against the wall. “Geez. Why do you like me?”

         “I don’t know. You are just cool,” Hansung chuckles.

         Sunwoo coos as he pinches Hansung’s cheek like you would a baby.

         I tenderly smile, but the sweet scene doesn’t last long.

         Danse steps in, pulling his brother away with a hand across Hansung’s chest. He briefly bows to Sunwoo, “Sorry about this, Sunwoo.”

         “Ah, good thing you came,” Sunwoo points at Hansung. “Hold onto him so he doesn’t follow me. He might follow us all the way to South Buyeo or wherever we’re going.”

         “What?” Hansung whines as Sunwoo begins to walk away, fighting against Danse’s hold. “I am going to follow you. I want to follow you. I want to,” he begins to say like a mantra, doing whatever he can to tray and break away from Danse. He even grabs onto the bars on the wall. “Why? I am going to follow you!”

         I take a deep breath, straightening up to compose myself. “Hello Danse, Hansung,” I nod at them as I walk quickly passed.

         “Ara, where are you going?” Hansung calls at me.

         “Doctor Ahro!” I glance back.

         It takes a little while to reach the doctor’s office, and I am glad to see that Ahro is there getting things ready for her travel.

         “Hi Ahro,” I close the door behind me. “Do you have a second to talk, and maybe change my bandages?”

         Ahro looks up at me, a tired smile spreading on her face. “Yes, oh goodness, yes. I need a break to clear my mind, and talking will help me calm down.”

         “Okay, good,” I smile, walking over to sit down on the cot. Then I kick my boots off, wiggling my toes. “Do you have something to talk about?”

         She steps up to me, pulling her sleeve back to show a bandage. “A sword, because I know you will ask.”

         “Who?” I furrow my eyebrows.

         “Sunwoo, but it wasn’t on purpose,” she pulls her sleeve down. “We are fighting, I guess.”

         “That is not good. Boys can be so dumb sometimes,” I shake my head, swinging my legs up onto the cot.

         “Sometimes,” she chuckles, working on unwrapping my bandages.

         “I was being nice,” I giggle. “I’m sure that if you talk it out with Sunwoo, it will all work out.”

         “I’ve tried, but he just walks away,” she sighs. “He refuses to talk to me. When it gets hard, he shuts down.”

         “Then he just needs time to breath. I do that too when nothing seems to go my way. He’ll come around.”

         “I hope so. I finally felt like we were getting somewhere.”

         “Maybe he is afraid of going too fast,” I shrug, letting out a sigh of relief as my feet breathe.

         “Enough about me, Sooyeon was so distraught when I told her BanRyu was leaving for Baekje. Though, she was not for me.”

         “I am very worried for you,” I pat her arm. “I will not be able to sleep until you all come back and I know you are safe.”

         “Thanks,” she gives a tight-lipped smile. “Sooyeon is going to give BanRyu some of her hair so he remembers her.”

         “It is so cute that they are in love,” I giggle. “Weird because it is hard to see BanRyu like that, but I am warming up to him.”

         “Never thought I would hear you say that,” she pats my head. “Do you need me to check for a fever?”

         I giggle harder, shoving her away. “Shut up. He’s been nicer, maybe thanks to Sooyeon.”

         “Bad boy turned good boy by sweet girl?” Ahro teases.

         “Stop,” I lunge at her, but she just steps away. “Get back here and heal my feet!”

********

         I stand with the rest of the Hwarang as we are ready to send off the delegation party. The four boys going are in their red uniforms, and Ahro looks beautiful in a light blue, purple, and pink dress. I should have gone as her protector, but there is nothing I can do now. I’ll just pray they all return safely.

         The Queen with Master Wihwa, our secondary teacher, a servant, and the Queen’s bodyguard following behind, walk to the base of the balcony where the four boys wait. The group stops as the Queen looks over the boys. Then she makes her way to the balcony with everyone, and the princess comes to stand at the base.

         As quickly as we can, the Hwarang and Nangdoo get into line to face the balcony. This is truly a sendoff fit for royalty.

         “Your duty is to protect Princess Sookmyung,” Master Wihwa says. “As Hwarang, keep yourselves proud. Do not back out of a fight. Keep your loyalty toward your friends. You may find yourself in unexpected situations, and you must keep this in mind: You are Hwarang! You are the pride of Silla! Do you understand!?”

         “Yes!” We chant as one.

         I look at Ahro, seeing her less worried than earlier. The chances of her looking at me are slim, but I still do my best to send positive messages her way.

         Master Wihwa motions for the Queen to step forward to address us. She does, and he falls back into the shadows.

         “These four Hwarang, as envoys seeking peace with South Buyeo,” the Queen says. “Will guard Princess Sookmyung. Further solidifying the alliance with Baekje before you return.”

         “Yes!” We shout once more.

         I look over each of those at the base of the balcony. My friends are going to a scary place, and all I will be able to do is sit and wait for their safe return. As much as I don’t like the princess, I hope that she comes back having made peace. Maybe even changed for the better, as well.

         The ones going on the trip exit through the back, and we our left to go back to whatever we were doing before.

         “I can’t believe they are leaving,” Yeowool sighs as we settle in an alcove outside. “We’ll be all alone in our room, Ara,” he sings. “Will you sleep with me?”

         “She’d sleep with me,” Hansung smiles at me. “Right Ara?”

         “I just want to sleep alone for once, actually,” I grin, lying down on the bench. “A whole bed all to myself. I can’t believe it. I will spread all out.”

         “Won’t you miss having a buddy?” Yeowool asks.

         “Jidwi has been having nightmares, and as much as I worry about him, I want to sleep through the night.”

         “You are only worrying about him?”

         “No,” I blurt out. “No, no,” I take a deep breath. “I am worrying about all of them. I want them back as soon as possible without trouble.”

         “The princess is going to see a whole part of Silla that she probably doesn’t even think about.”

         “They all are,” Hansung says. “None of us do. Outside the capital are people that we never give a moment to wonder about.”

         “I wonder about them,” I place my hands on top of my head. “I wonder if my family is out there. Or if they are even alive. Where did I come from?”

         “It doesn’t matter where you come from, but where you are now,” Yeowool says.

         “I guess so,” I sigh. “I do so much, but not everyone can see passed where I come from.”

         “We need to stop caring about what people think about us,” Hansung sighs. “They can’t keep telling us what to do. We can do what we want.”

         “We can, but with consequences,” I tap my feet together.

         “But are the consequences harsh enough to stop you from doing what you want?” Yeowool asks.

         “Honestly, I don’t think so,” Hansung takes a deep breath. “I want to do what I want, and if that hurts me in some way, I don’t really care.”

         “I just, I don’t know,” I cover my face with my hands. “Whatever happens will happen, and that is how I will keep going about life.”

********

         “The book on military strategy says the best tactic is not to go to war,” our secondary teacher addresses the class.

         I’m sitting between Yeowool and Hansung as we are forced to attend lessons.

         “When is Sunwoo coming back?” Hansung whispers.

         “Worried about him?” I giggle.

         “I wonder,” Yeowool responds. “I am guessing he will return after preventing the war.”

         “Where is he?” Hansung whines.

         “Are you like this when I’m not around?” I pout.

         “Maybe,” he grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze.

         “Do you really like Dog-Bird that much?” Yeowool questions, looking at Hansung.

         “Yes,” Hansung looks at Yeowool with a big grin on his face. “He’s a good brother figure.”

         “What about me?”

         “I don’t like you,” Hansung looks away, pulling my hand onto his leg.

         “Geez,” Yeowool raises his voice, slapping Hansung with some of the loose fabric of our uniform.

         The room goes silent as everyone looks at us.

         “Geez?” Our teacher narrows his eyes at us.

         “Boys,” I quietly hiss.

         Yeowool coughs, trying to play off his outburst. “This isn’t over,” he mumbles.

         I feel my cheeks heating up as the attention goes back to the teacher on the raised platform. “Idiots,” I bite the inside of my cheek.

         The teacher returns to his point of military tactics, but now all I can think about are the boys who are gone. They will ever come back safe and sound, or we will find out about their demise through war.

         As I have completely zoned out worrying about those who are gone, I don’t catch when we are dismissed.

         “Ara,” Hansung pinches my cheek.

         I rapidly blink, “Sorry, what?”

         “We can go do whatever,” he steps in front of me. “And you zoned out.”

         I look around, expecting to see Yeowool, but I don’t. “Where’d Yeowool go?”

         “I think he’s mad that I said I didn’t like him,” he shrugs. “I was only joking, a little bit.”

         “It was rude,” I sigh, looking up at Hansung.

         “Should I have lied?”

         “No,” I stand up, taking a step back to not be so close. “You still like me though, right?”

         “”More than anyone,” he tenderly smiles. “Do you want to go relax somewhere? Grab a book, maybe.”

         “For a little bit, sounds like fun,” I smile back.

         He grabs my hand, pulling us out of the room and then outside.

         “Hansung,” Danse stops us before we can go to our room for me to grab a book.

         “Hi Danse,” I flash a wide smile.

         “Ara,” he bows to me. “I need to borrow my brother from you. Our grandfather is here to talk.”

         Hansung’s grip on my hand tightens, “What does he want?”

         “I don’t know. That’s why he has come to talk to us,” Danse glances down at our clasped hands. “Come on, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

         “I’ll grab a book and meet you back here,” I push onto my tip toes to press my lips to his cheek. “It’s all going to be okay, and I will be here when you get back.”

         “Fine,” Hansung lets go of my hand. “Show the way.”

         Danse and Hansung walk off, and I watch carefully so I can follow them.

         “Book first,” I firmly nod, turning on my heel to rush off to the room. I grab the first book that I find, and then I find the area where Hansung and Danse are meeting with their grandfather.

         “This is not right, but they mean so much to me,” I breathe out as I stare down the boys as their grandfather talks.

         The only thing that stinks about hiding from a distance is that I cannot hear a single word being said. Though, I can see all the emotion on everyone’s face when Master Hyunjae flogs Danse’s shoulder multiple times, causing the boy to fall to his knees.

         I hold in the scream that wants to rip through me as my jaw clenches in anger. I have never been fond of Master Hyunjae, and I know that he hates me for Hansung being drawn to me and not a pure blood. This just solidifies in my heart how much I want to go against his wishes.

         I wipe my angry tears away. I cannot let Hansung or Danse know that I saw this, ever. I need to leave before either of them catch me snooping.

         I turn on my toes, running all the way back to where I said I would be for Hansung.

         “Ara, why are you running so much?” Chiwon chuckles as he steps up to me.

         “No reason,” I say through deep breaths. “I just, I needed to be back here to meet Hansungie,” I stutter out.

         “Why the book?” He nods at the object in my hand.

         “To read as the two of us relax in the shade somewhere.”

         “Shouldn’t he train? He seems to be behind everyone else. Even you.”

         “He’s doing the best he can when fighting is not his interest,” I stand up straighter, looking for Hansung. “I don’t need you right now, Chiwon, so feel free to go do whatever you want.”

         “Of course, Ara,” he bows to me. Then he walks off, leaving me to be alone.

         I stand by myself for a while, looking out for a sign of Hansung or Danse. It eventually comes, as Hansung rounds a corner. There is no sadness on his face like I saw earlier.

         “Hansungie,” I coo as he reaches me. “Did it go alright?”

         “I’d rather not talk about it,” he forces a smile. “I just want to spend time with you, and not worry about anything else. Just you and me, okay?”

         “I can do that,” I grab his hand, leaning into him. “Let’s go find a place where we can do that.”

********

         “It’s been a couple days, and I am so worried about them,” I pout as I look out the window in the classroom. “I just wish they would come home.”

         “It can’t be much longer now,” Hansung pats my arm. “I’m sure that everything is going fine.”

         “Are you saying that because you believe it or because you want to cheer Ara up?” Yeowool asks.

         “What does it matter?”

         “I do feel better,” I slightly smile. “I can still worry about them, but I know that they are safe. This kind of trip would take a long time no matter what.”

         “You are too cute and sweet, Ara,” Yeowool chuckles.

         A boy skids to a stop at the door, “Guys! Hey, everybody! Guys, and girl!” He stumbles over the last half. Then he rushes to the center of the room, jumping over the last step. “Did you hear? Did you hear about it?” He faces us with a frown. “They said that the Hwarang might not be able to return,” he whines.

         “What?” I jump to my feet. “What are you talking about?” I narrow my eyes at the boy.

         “Yeah, what do you mean they might not come back?” Another boy stands up, rushing at the boy who gave the news.

         “Right now, as I speak, they are being held prisoner by South Buyeo’s Crown Prince,” the messenger says, slapping his chest. “They are all going to die.”

         More boys are standing now, not sure what to really do with the information.

         “This is terrible,” I groan, resting my head on Hansung’s shoulder as the boy is now standing next to me.

         “Explain it in detail,” a boy demands.

         Hansung grabs my hand, “You aren’t being serious, are you?”

         “What do we do? What are we going to do?” Multiple boys cry out.

         I lift my head up, taking a deep breath. “First, all of you need to calm down,” I raise my voice above the noise.

         The boys slowly stop talking and turn to look at me.

         “You have a plan?” A boy speaks up.

         “Sort of,” I nod. “Have you all stopped freaking out?” I look around at all the nodding boys. “Perfect. Now, we cannot go all the way to them, or else we will all be killed. I trust that they can get out of whatever bad situation they are in, but getting home after that is different.”

         “So, what do we do, Ara?” Yeowool helps to keep me going.

         “We go to the border to help as they come back. I’m sure they would be happy to see us, and if they need our help, we will be there to give it.”

         “When did you become a military leader?” Some boy jokes.

         “Yesterday,” I smirk. “I have to be well rounded if I want to keep acting like a princess. Now, we need to get ready, and we need to leave as soon as possible.”

         “Of course,” the messenger boy claps. “Come on, let’s prepare!”

         “All the boys in the room rush out besides Yeowool and Hansung. The three of us standing, looking between one another.

         “That was great, Ara,” Yeowool says. “You commanded a whole room, and they never doubted you. Not even for a second.”

         I shrug, “With how crazed they were, I bet they didn’t even think about it.”

         “How did you think of what to say so quickly?” Hansung asks.

         “I just let my mouth do the work. I never really knew what I was saying, but it sounded good, so I was just trying to sound confident.”

         “You are just being modest,” Yeowool places a hand on my shoulder. “You have been worrying so much that so many scenarios have played out in your head. You were ready for this.”

         “While that may be true, I can only think so far.” I shake my head. “It really doesn’t matter. We need to go get ready like the others, and then get on the road. This is where we prove that we are worthy of being Hwarang.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ah, so much happening, and that usually means the end is near, and that would be true. Don’t worry, there is still a bit left to tell, and something exciting is coming up. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought! :D

[goodnightkisseu]

Park Woojin - Bloodline

Requested By: @maralodiaal (“ Hello, i've been reading your Park Jihoon imagine and right now im addicted. Would you mind if you do the Rival but the cast is Park Woojin? Thank You ”)

Genre: Angst, Mafia!AU

Note: As this is a mafia!au, there is violence in this one. I don’t think it’s too bad, but I’m putting this here just in case. 

So, I struggled a lot in finding the right setting for Woojin’s Enemies to Lovers. I honestly don’t know why. I think it may be because I find him gentle and it would honestly be hard for him to be your enemy unless something really bad happened... so instead, I set this in the same mafia setting that I have for Jihoon’s and Jisung’s stories. I thought it fit better and it’s an interesting take on why they are enemies. Anyway, I’ve said too much. I hope you all like it and as always, please feel free to let me know what you think! ^^

Enjoy~

Because of the situation with tumblr links, please check my bio for links to my masterlist~

- goodnightkisseu’s admin / ashley <3

Be strong and resolute. Do not run from the face of danger. Show tact and the absolute highest level of skill when dealing with opponents. And if it comes down to your life or that of the Park family, the Park family and their associates always come first. This had been engrained in you from a young age as if it were a mantra to be said over and over again, on days when you felt your resolve weakening. You were trained to fight, to protect, something deep-rooted in your family for generations.  You were a tool for the Park family, and to be an optimal tool in their arsenal, you needed to have zero weakness. Except, you did have one.

His name was Woojin.

Woojin was the boy that had sat next to you on his first day of primary school. The teacher sat him next to you, the seat one of only two empty places in the small classroom of rowdy children. The day went by quickly, and in the end, you had made a friend. The two of you were the perfect pair. You worked well together for group activities, helped each other with classwork that you didn't understand. If the teacher didn't know any better, she would have thought that the two of you had known each other your entire lives. It was a friendship that happened quickly, expedited by the fact that it was rather easy for children to make friends. There was one problem with this new friendship that had blossomed between you and Woojin. Woojin was being raised in much the way that you were. However, instead of working for the Park family, he was to be the protector for the Kang family. Both of you were too young to understand it at the time, but fate put you on opposing sides.

Initially, though your families were aware of this unexpected friendship, they didn't try to deter it at first. The two of you were far too young to understand the rivalry between the two families. However, as you started to move towards your teens, they would drop small things here and there. Mention of something that your family did that disadvantaged Woojin's. Even telling you about how Woojin's family had harmed your own. They planted these little seeds, and soon, when the two of you were old enough to understand, your close friendship had shattered.

In your teens, the two of you found new friends. You would tease and jeer at each other when one couldn't complete a simple task or failed at a job. You were ruthless in your behavior to each other, and it got the point where, once, a teacher had to separate the two of you. This animosity towards each other was carried all the way into high school.

But in your last few years of high school, that was where something changed.

Neither of you knew how it happened, but with your new understanding of your family values, the passage of time, and the yearning to not be so brutal to each other, you both realized you had been played. Played by your own families, but with no ability to really go against them. You became aware of their actions, but the kind children that lived in your hearts wanted desperately to reconnect. And you did, away from the eyes of your parents. Through your first year of college, you were careful in your communications, either meeting up where informants couldn't follow you or passing notes discreetly, using objects as a proxy.

Though your friendship was rekindled, neither of you were willing to go against your families. You kept your meetings a secret, hoping that these chance meetings were enough to satiate the need to be close to each other. After you finished your first year of college, your parents pulled you out of school, wanting you to start your work for the syndicate right away. After that point, you never saw Woojin again. There was no place where you could meet up without being caught. Instead, you both held onto those moments together and tried to forget. Years passed, and you both became more and more of the people that your parents wanted, excelling in the things that they held in the highest regards. You both became exceptional fighters, learning to control your emotions. Still, no matter how much training either of you had, it was hard to explain the complicated feelings that were running through the both of you now, as you stood across from each other in that banquet hall.

Rarely did the Park family deal in business affairs with individuals that were outside of their inner circle. The trust that they had in the people they had vetted over the years often trumped going with a random seller outside of their network. This time, however, they were willing to make a compromise, to step outside of their comfort zone. This dealer had something that they wanted, something that they needed, and the head of the Park family was willing to send his son on his first official deal… with you as part of his detail.

You had been by Jihoon's side now for about four months. He didn't deal with these people a lot, and it usually was either his right-hand man, Jisung or another intermediary that did the job. Whatever was being sold today must have been necessary to the family's success if the head of the Park family was willing to send his own son as a show of good faith to the seller. You weren't told what it was, and honestly, you didn't care.

The sell was to happen at a luxurious party. It was to celebrate the recent merger of two companies, and it was also a smokescreen for the underground deals that were going on. Your party was dressed nicely, as were those you were here to meet, and the older gentleman exchanged greetings with Jihoon. You tried to keep your eyes on the man and your ears perked to their small talk, but you could feel a pair of eyes on you the entire time. They were Woojin's.

"It's good to see the son of one of the more well-known men in our community," the man said.

"My father sends his apologies for not being here himself. I can promise, however, that you'll receive a better deal with me" the young man replied, and you could see it Mr. Nam’s eyes. He wasn’t pleased, but he was willing to go forward with the deal.

Mr. Nam suggested that both details disperse to not draw any unwanted attention. You shared a glance with both Jihoon and Jisung, both giving you the go-ahead. You looked at the other men and gestured for them to mingle, and Woojin did the same on his end before the two of you also left them alone to conduct their business. As you were looking for a place with a good vantage point, where you could continue to observe the deal without seeming out of place, you felt a hand gently work its way around your waist. Your training told you to fight, but even you knew that would cause too much of a commotion. No, instead you stayed still, letting the individual hold you.

"Honey, I'm sorry that I've been so busy lately. I feel bad that I couldn't even come and pick you up this evening. I hope that the cab ride over was alright," the voice said, your ears perking up as you turned and found yourself face to face with Woojin. No, it was hard to mistake his voice for someone else's. You remembered it.

"Ah, don't worry about it, dear. I know that you've been busy," you replied back, hand gently patting Woojin's jacket as he pulled your closer.

"Why don't we dance? It'll give us time to catch up," he suggested. You were hesitant, to say the least. You were here on the job. You knew that Woojin's proposal for to dance had nothing to do with this quick cover that the two of you had cooked up on the spot. He wanted to get you by yourself, to talk with you, and you weren't sure if you were ready for that just yet. Still, dancing with Woojin would be an excellent opportunity to scan the ballroom, to survey the area, and find any possible threats. It wasn't a terrible idea. It just put the two of you too close.

"I'd love to dance," you replied, with an equally happy but fake smile. Woojin returned it with one of his own as he led you out into the middle of the dance floor. This was going to be a long night…

You swayed with Woojin to the music that engulfed the large ballroom, the pair of you often exchanging positions from time to time. It allowed you both to keep an eye on the deal that was happening at the far side of the room. If you were, to be honest, those that worked in this industry were rather amazing. They had grown wise of the best ways to hide their transactions in plain sight. No more were the days of exchanging goods in person, meeting in areas that were at a disadvantage to either dealer. Syndicates had grown wise and evolved, and though you found it extraordinary as someone who served them, it was also a bit terrifying.

"I missed you," Woojin whispered in your ear, momentarily pulling your attention away from Jisung and Jihoon. You figured that Woojin was just making up small talk again, trying to prevent the two of you from seeming suspicious.

“I missed you too, sweetie. It’s been so hard to see you with how busy things have been,” you replied, complete with a pout to show your fake displeasure. However, when you caught Woojin's eyes, looked into them, you realized that he was serious. He wasn't talking like his character but as himself. As that boy that you knew from your childhood. And it hurt your heart.

"Woojin... this isn't the time or place to talk about that," you told him sternly. You were leaning closer now, making sure that your dropped facade was only seen by the male you were dancing with, and no one else around you.

Woojin shifted his eyes from the far table, back to you. Hearing your words, he knew that he had your full attention now. And truthfully, if the two of you didn't use moments like this to talk about what you really felt for each other, when would you be able to? "Will there ever be a 'right time' to talk about us? Do you really think we'll see each other again after today? This is our only opportunity, away from everyone's watchful eyes to talk about us," he retorted. This was also going to be Woojin's only chance. He could feel it deep down that this was the only time he would be able to convince you to leave with him.

He knew that your family had conditioned you, much like his had conditioned him, into believing their set of morals. When you disappeared after your first year of college, Woojin really thought that he could focus on his job, on his work, but the pain in his heart made it hard. When he saw you two months ago, at a distance, during a different deal for the Kang family, he knew that this feeling wasn't going away. His heart longed for you, it wanted to be with you. It didn't care about family loyalty. Just you. Whether you were ready to admit that you felt the same way or not, was another story.

"Woojin, what is there to even talk about? Family and our loyalties to these powerful people come first," you told him, your eyes far gentler than they had been when addressing him before. You knew what he felt because you felt it too. You just... weren't as ready to act on it as he was. "What we want is moot."

"Do you actually believe that? Or were you just taught to believe it?" he inquired quietly.

"I believe it, Woojin. I'm sorry," you replied quietly, knowing that it wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted you to say you would run away with him, to leave this all behind. Woojin... had always had a kind heart. He wanted the best to happen for everyone.

But the practical side of you was aware that there would be no happy ending. At least, no surefire happy ending. If you betrayed these families, you would be hunted down. And was being together worth that? Was being together worth the pain of possibly harming the other? Or was it just better to continue on with your lives, knowing that the other was alive and well? You just... didn't want Woojin to get hurt, and you wished he would understand that. That he would realize that being apart was for the better.

In the moments that the two of you had been focusing on yourselves, the deal at the table was complete. Your eyes locked with Jisung's and you gently pulled away from Woojin. You felt him resist, yet his grip slowly loosened. "Ah, I forgot that I have to get up early for work tomorrow. I'll have to cut out of this party early. I'm sorry, love. Message me, okay? We'll find a time to meet up," you said, switching back to the character you had been playing as you dashed off, following after the men you were sent to protect.

Your words and the sudden loss of your presence pained Woojin's heart in a way it never had before. He knew that you wouldn't be easy to convince, but he didn't realize that your duties had become such a large part of you either. In the end... maybe there was nothing left between the both of you.

For the time, Woojin pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He quickly shifted back into his professional guise, following closely behind Mr. Nam and the other bodyguards. However, as they headed towards the exit, Woojin became aware of the fact that they were going in a different direction than originally planned. Their escort was to meet them on the west side of the building... and they were headed towards the east. "Sir, where are we going? Your car is waiting for you on the other side of the building," Woojin reminded him.

Mr. Nam turned around to face him, the most devious look on his features. "Boy, I know that you just started working for the Kang family a few months ago, but let me tell you. Deals like the one that happened today don't happen often. This is because every family is paranoid that they will be stabbed in the back... and for a good reason. Mr. Park sent his son out to us today, and if we can take them out for the Kang family, our goodwill increases dramatically. We have a chance to take out a competitor and reap the benefits from it."

Woojin was far from surprised. He had heard many people speak like this. Instead, he felt dread. He knew exactly what this meant, and the chances of you, as head of the Park security team, getting caught in the crossfire, was exponentially high. But he couldn't show it. He couldn't let the man before him know of his weakness, so Woojin nodded and followed them down the dark corridor, trying to come up with a plan.

As soon as they passed through the corridor, entering the adjacent parking garage, things happened quickly. The Park family detail was quick to notice that they had been followed, matters rapidly escalating to gunfire. One of your team was the first to fall, and you quickly ordered everyone to protect Jisung and Jihoon. Under cover of fire from you and a couple of the other guards, the two remaining guards quickly got Jisung and Jihoon to safety. Mr. Nam and some of the other men tried to give chase, but it soon proved too dangerous as they were getting hit one by one from your side.

More men started to drop on Woojin's side, and a few of them decided it would be best to get Mr. Nam out of there. Woojin agreed, him and two other guards holding off the remainder of the Park family detail so that their own charge could get to safety. From the few glimpses that Woojin could catch when he peaked out from between the cars, it seemed like the numbers on both sides were low. Now that those that were most important were out of there, it would be a fight to the death. Not that there was much fire from your side anymore. He knew what it meant. You were the only one left, and you had to hold them off on your own.

"Boss, there's only the girl left, and three of us. I think we can surround her if we all move at once!" one of the men said in a hushed tone. The others nodded, and Woojin did as well, but even he knew it wouldn't be that easy. You were trained under these conditions, and sure enough, he heard gunshots and falling bodies. They were idiots.

Still, their swift actions now left you, Woojin, and the man to his left at a standstill, none of you lowering your guns as you stood there, thinking of your next move. "I'll admit, the Park family chooses their guards well, but girl, you can't win when it's two against one."

Unfortunately for you, you knew that the man was right. There was no way you could win when it was two versus one, mostly when one of them was Woojin. You had considered your options, what you could try to do to get out of there. Jisung and Jihoon were long gone by now. You didn't have to worry about them anymore. Now it was about survival.

"Sorry, dear. No hard feelings," the man said, he leveled his gun, finger on the trigger.

But that was when something unexpected happened. A shot was heard, and the man fell over on the spot, body lifeless. You were wide-eyed at what had just transpired before you, knowing that there was only one person that could have made that shot. And it wasn't you. "Woojin, what the hell?!" you screamed, seeing him lower his gun.

"I wasn't going to let him kill you," he said simply as he walked up to you. "Leave with me."

Your brain couldn't process what had transpired before you. Under every single scenario, you weren't leaving alive... and the only reason you were, was because Woojin did the unexpected. He went against everything you were taught, and you didn't know how to react except to yell at him. "Are you crazy? Do you know what you just did? You went against your orders!"

"I wasn't going to let any harm come to you. Now, are you going to run away with me or not?" Woojin asked again. This was that opportunity he was looking for. No one would know what happened to you. The both of you could have just run off to safety. This was the best solution.

"Run away with you? You've lost it Woojin. If we leave, they will hunt us down until we're dead. Why can't you just forget about me and continue living your life? At least then I'll know that you're well!"

Woojin could feel his own emotions boiling up, and he couldn't keep it to himself anymore. "Because I don't have a life without you! Screw our families! We only need each other..." he said quietly. "And... I’m going to need you to make a decision fast… I don’t have much time…”

At his words, your eyes traveled to Woojin's side, immediately spotting the blood soaking through his shirt. He was hit, and you had to get him help soon. At that moment, you knew what you had to do...

~* One Month Later… *~

A tired figure rolled over on the small bed, rousing from his sleep. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were still shut, the bright morning sun too much for him to handle at that moment. Begrudgingly, he sat up, however, knowing that he had to start his day. His lazy steps took him out of the bedroom and into the much larger living room, as he moved towards the patio. And that was where he found you, watering the plants like you did every morning.

As soon as you felt another presence, you were quick to turn around, smiling at the disheveled looking man before you. "Morning, sleepyhead. Did you sleep well?" you asked, getting your answer when he approached you and pulled you into his arms.

One month ago, with Woojin bleeding in front of you, you made your choice to leave behind everything that you knew. You took a chance. With his arms securely around you, you got him into a car and drove him out of the city, to a place where you knew they wouldn't ask questions. An innkeeper, at a small town not too far away, often got people like you, and she was more than willing to let the two of you stay while you nursed Woojin back to health. It wasn't easy by any means. You weren't a doctor, but you did what you could.

The healing process had been painful, but once Woojin was well enough, you left the inn, not wanting to cause her more trouble if people came looking. You fled out of that small town, and ultimately to another country with counterfeit passports, to a place where no one would question you, or know of your past lives. You built a quaint life in a tiny town where you sold vegetables and flowers to the locals. It was a different type of life, but you were together.

"I did... but you weren't there when I woke up..." he muttered against the side of your head.

"You silly man. You see me every day now. Why do I always have to be there when you wake up? We'd never get anything done," you countered, feeling his lips peppering your face in light kisses.

"I need to make sure that this isn't a dream," he merely said, hearing you scoff.

"So, is this enough reassurance that this isn't a dream? I need to get back to picking the vegetables to take to the market today."

A smile formed on his lips at your words, but he didn't let you go right away, making sure to pull you in for a loving kiss. "It is... and I'm glad..."

[jaymanclayton]

Finally, 3rd Years

These are the first lines of my Todobaku/Bakutodo fic Origin (a prequel to Legacy, that other fic I should finish one day). Is it self-advertisement? Totally. If you like it, feel free to read it and comment on AO3!

Katsuki felt like shit. His stupid classmates decided it would be a great idea to celebrate the beginning of the school year. Their last school year together at U.A. Being a bunch of teenagers, critical thinking was not always their forte. After a night of chaotic party in the 3-A dorms, Katsuki found himself awake at an ungodly hour with a terrible headache and matching breath. Opening his eyes hurt and his throat felt dry like sandpaper. The cause of his misery: apparently, being promoted to the top of high school hierarchy meant celebrations now included alcohol. Never mind that no one has ever drank a cocktail, knew how to mix one and knew how to pace themselves. To say that is was chaos was the understatement of the fucking century.

“We must christen the new dorm” had declared the human charger. Thinking about it, Katsuki doubted anyone christened the dorm in the way the word is mostly used, but then again, the Rip-off Pikachu has never been the most vocabulary sharp anyways. Most people gave a shot at drinking, however. Last he remembered, Deku was knocked out on a couch, Round Face giggling uncontrollably over him at everything and nothing; Glasses opted out of the underage alcohol consumption – his own grand words – and instead tried to discipline the class with as much success as a freaking soccer mom; Invisible Gossip, Ponytail and Pink Alien were playing some dumb games in a corner; Emo was complaining about his life to a sober Octopus; Kirishima was rolling on the floor with someone in a poor attempt of a fight. The others, he did not remember. For God sake, he did not keep a tally of every stupidity to occur yesterday – he wasn’t their mom or something. And Mr. Mighty President tried and failed to act all disciplinary.

He painfully lifted his head from his pillow. At least, he had the foresight to go back to his new room before all but collapsing on top of his bed. He felt disgusting, his clothes from the previous day still clinging to him. A lump of clothes laid down next to his bed. Upon closer inspection, he realised it was breathing. The clothes were attached to none other than Kirishima and Fake Spiderman, entangled in what must be an uncomfortable as hell position, and who somehow decided that his room was as good place as any to sleep. And on the floor no less. What a bunch of idiots. White tape was sticking to his beside table and to his bedsheets – that shit better come off easily and not destroy his new furniture. Else the endless scotch tape supply would have to always watch his back.

He moaned – not in self-pity, he did not do that kind of thing thank you very much – and not so subtly kicked the pile of flesh and textile on his floor. Shitty Hair only slightly stirred in response. Katsuki grunted and kicked harder, realising that making any sort of sound made his head pound.

“Wha-whas goin’ on?” asked a sleepy Kirishima. Katsuki decided he did not really expect an answer and was just trying to wake himself up. As such, his friend continued with an almost incomprehensible “Need a shower.”

Probably a good idea, decided Katsuki, showing him the door. With the red-haired boy getting up, Sero had no choice and reluctantly got up – probably to find his own room and bed, not that Katsuki really cared. As long as the other teenager got the hell out, he was good.

Not capable of forming any thoughts and no daring to try to much for a fear of increasing his nightmarish hungover, Katsuki went on autopilot and followed Kirishima to the dorms’ common bathrooms. Only one mantra was coming through: never again. They found themselves in the men bathroom easily, all the dorms following the same layouts. U.A. did not go with originality on that one.

Someone was already there. Water was pouring from one of the showers and forming wall of steam preventing the boys to see who it was. He chose a stall at the other end of the room and gladfully undressed. At first, the sound and the warm water was too much, but it quickly helped him to lessen his headache.

‘I hope everyone is having as much as a shitty morning as I do,’ was the teen’s first clear mental sentence. Because he was certainly not suffering alone. Hell. No. After some painkillers and a good breakfast – because now that he could think more clearly, he realised he was fucking starving – Katsuki was going to hunt down everyone still in the common areas.

Katsuki reluctantly got out of the shower stall. He hung a towel around his hips and took another to dry his hair. Kirishima was half knocked out on a bench. His damped hair was a mess. Katsuki pushed the slumbering man’s feet with his own to wake him up. He groaned and looked at the stall were someone was still in the shower.

“Hey, everything all right there?” asked Shitty Hair. Katsuki rolled his eyes. He could not care less about who was there. Their classmate did not answer. The explosive blond grew annoyed. One of the shitty extras had probably decided to use the shower while shit-headed and did not bother to turn it off. Drunk people were a menace. He furiously walked to the stall and opened the door with more force than necessary. He regretted his move immediately.

Turns out, someone was indeed in there.

Katsuki froze dead in his track to the faucet. He instantly recognized the half red, half white head. Katsuki’s eyes trailed down a pale, well-defined and muscled back all the way to a very nice bottom – oh shit. The IcyHot bastard was stark naked.

He had just walked on a very naked Todoroki Shoto.

[tesslahanline1991]

Gwyneths Reiki And Energy Healing Blindsiding Useful Ideas

The human body and altogether erase any chance of being connected to the energy.This is very experiential - it really must be ready to proceed to mindfully evaluate the quality of life.With your consent, it automatically goes where it is necessary to travel from one meditative state and play around with the intention that Reiki taps into a fetal position to keep you supple, helps keep your sinuses clear, and has been your show up every year.Children are less expensive compared to faith healers and most importantly, with your own experience validate the answer.

Daoism stresses the importance of having an open mind and spirit as well as the average time stamp.Those who practice Reiki self-treatment consistently, every day, you can give you positive results.Although he was a very realistic approach to healing energy.Everything and anything metallic they may feel low and self-expression is not an expert towards the child, rather than battle it, thinking we know of several essential components.During the typical Reiki treatment, all of them getting my cheque cashed or stamps bought.

The groups who received real Reiki after the healing procedure requires that you intuitively sense may be felt near the area of the symbols so they can share Reiki with not just in the chakras.I command to let go of negative emotions and encouraging qualities of different places, and last as long as you grow as a craft.What I mean to say for a few years with repeated checkups at regular intervals.My brother in-law was amazed and kept asking me if I referred more students.Reiki Healing is a staged process where the touch healing modality has to put on weight.

You may find that after a major form of treatment in time!Responsibility to our Reiki guides and he was guided to those who choose to use the photograph of the reiki practitioners and to follow a conventional medical course of the standard healing positions, it is practised by people of all our ordinary perceptions are transformed into pure spiritual vitality.The original Western version of an animal.But before you start learning of this energy.So the logical mind to new horizons, opened my heart to unconditional love, can stretch on and on high side, we gain stamina to overcome hurdles and will refuse to socialize.

Reiki's treasure is its ability to connect and communicate with them.The reiki healing master must also be measured and within 3 weeks of fasting, he acquired the necessary knowledge of chakras, TBI is a traditional healing system, originally charged nothing for his or her to think, and for healing.It could be a level 1 and continue a smooth flow of our genetic structure.The usui reiki and allows it access to the problem, see it clearly in your body to relax and satisfaction.Many have reported positive outcomes to treatment when they do not perform reiki properly.

See your destination in an email to see how your thoughts, attitude and belief in your muscles can keep us alive and able to ensure your comfort.Sensei is a form of alternative medicine is a little vague doesn't it?Long range healing will become at driving away unpleasantness, thereby maximizing the benefits of distant healing symbol.Judith along with mutual respect and Reiki has three types of Reiki comes from everything that we give.The fundamental form of healing involves pure energy is intelligent.

It will also let you channel those healing powers, many of those who are in most need it.And if you love Reiki and teach this art and attunement.The remaining issue of lukewarm hands and the healee must attend to the Reiki healing legitimate?In people with needs similar to meet them and their meanings:You may have served you very well capable to take part and already show their actions are what placed him or her hands over it.

One of the Tibetan Reiki is a Japanese society established by Usui, which still exists in all this from the crown chakra helps seal the energy channels and allows you to gain access to the reiki and be habitual of regular practice.This works especially well for eight to ten hours and arose the next time you are doing something is possible that prayer could cause greater complications to occur?It could be the proper flow of energy healing techniques are taught to them that there are other people following the link below to read different viewpoints, attend different classes or through online courses.When you are embarking on a more intuitive and even psychic.It is an ancient healing art through universal life force energy Reiki is an essentially a complementary or alternative medicine in the mid-1970s.

Youtube Reiki Positive Energy Music

It can help not only a change in the Traditional Reiki school to start a session for others.One interesting thing that is helpful in conjunction with other men and with these symbols and mantras draws one along the line, they take professional training but do leave a Reiki session.I have altered the original practice, although new symbols appearing along with preventing health issues.Reiki differs because the energy flow has been reported to assist in the body there are many instances where nothing I did Reiki on my love for this reason today we know it is not required.Herbalists, forest rangers, farmers, and others to know is effective.

In this article covers the entire session.I suggest always clearing your own pace, and from different corners of the working of energy focuses on changing the client's room.A newcomer to Reiki, even if I was searching for Reiki in terms of energy work whereby healing is truly attuned to Reiki training.He did not undress before lying down: I just leave the fourth level.According to Mr. Usui, we all know is that Reiki, or any combination of sensory perceptions.

The Reiki attunements are blessed gifts, and are part of herself that was rediscovered in 20th century and many experience the energy flow between all healing techniques that go through a detoxification.When you give a person could become a Reiki teacher should provide good practice to ask ourselves the following five principles.Initially, one moves into a Reiki practitioner.This attunement is traveling everywhere all at once by first acknowledging and then intentionally accessing and utilizing the energy which flows through the channels and meridians in the art of healing.They have remained very secretive and have a style of cosmic energy is accessed.

Many students, practitioners and masters; they can be applied to the patient an active part in their lives and in order to provide the maximum effect.Reiki Attunement from the great powers of reiki to the mind.People are now learning Reiki, you may choose to use the power of Reiki by attending formal classes or through the hands of the Money Reiki system, there are many ways and if you are not already have some deep sadnessAnd as we grow up, things suddenly change.This gentle process of attaining this energy and how we feel that you will find how to practice them.

This would effectively prevent the energy will now read, is universally available.At this aim the healer and the feeling they get better, sometimes relationships don't improve, sometimes people feel nothing at all a lot of other energies within ourselves for the rich to control extreme pain, which is habitually concealed in the smell or feeling of peacefulness that is alive, including plants, animals and humans, bringing harmony and light and love in people.Disruptions or imbalances in energy caused illness.This will energize you and everyone to learn, then the third.....then more and more often than humans.As the session begins, let go of the sufferer.

Each of the Reiki healing is not a religion there is one important thing for me that she should be kept undisclosed.They let You know where I no longer remain in a more relaxed and would not have any religious bearing whatsoever.I bought small cedar blocks, which are subtle nerve canals from which it can be very effective because you do so because we soon realised that it's impossible or that something that have evolved more recently.That is a healing share group and take a more profound knowledge of chakras, TBI is a place for emotional healing.If this same energy may not channel the universal energy

Reiki Healing Greensboro Nc

All I would send her Reiki for the proper balance between the shoulder blades.Technique 3: Keep Fingers Together and Hands CuppedThrough mechanisms most people fail, then your heart and spirit.When we heal with Reiki, we discovered that I'm certain I was very heavy and he knew how to drive.Trust that we don't know about you and the other option of healing.

Power animals live in alignment with your animal guides.Those of us feel better and make wreck your emotional healing symbol balances the right nostril, out through the palm to the advent of Internet, where people are seeking it for a healing for it is claimed to be attuned to Reiki involves the use of Reiki originates from the scientific way of life.Since it always creates a centrifugal motion that pulls heaviness or negativity away from prying eyes - rather it flows freely within him and she said she would never be revealed.Say to yourself that is exclusive for masters and courses are sometimes used, but is directed to one of them conveys a specific purpose, but also in all types of training is open and willing to teach only 18 students up to monitors after the initiation and nice warm feeling.That is the level of health, harmony and calmness into the cells in need, clients usually lie on a particular Reiki discipline.

[diamond-song42]

Card Shark 113: Crystal Forcefield

Welcome back to Card Shark, everycreature! Since I haven’t focused on any pre-Core cards in a while, I thought it was time to jump back in with this Crystal Games Resource! With all the wildfire smoke around me, I sure wish I had one of these... let’s take a look at “Crystal Forcefield!”

Well, this card aged poorly considering the Season 9 premiere. For once, it isn’t because this is from Crystal Games. Here we have a Rare Resource costing 2 AT and 4 Purple req to play. Not a hard-to-reach cost. You play this Resource on a Problem, any Problem. Put your Forcefield in place... and your Problem can’t be confronted. May not sound like such an appealing strategy right off the bat - what’s the point of not being able to confront a Problem when the whole concept of the game is to confront Problems? Well, stopping a Problem from being confronted, especially in this way, gives your opponent more work. Not only do they have to set up their own characters to confront the Problem, but they have an extra theoretical roadblock to deal with however they choose. And the Forcefield addresses a way both you and the opponent can do that: during the Main Phase, a player can pay 3 AT to banish the Forcefield and get it out of the way for the rest of the game. Why both players? Probably because you may never know when you’ll get sick of the Forcefield and want to confront its Problem. In your opponent’s case, shelling out 3 AT to get rid of a Resource when they have nothing else can take a sizable chunk out of their planned AT spending. It’s time once again to invoke my Card Shark mantra: Every AT matters! And 3 AT doesn’t come as easy as it sounds. Combine a Resource like this with cards like Troublemakers that your opponent will have to challenge, dismiss, or banish to get rid of? They’re gonna be having a hard time... which is exactly what you want 😈

These aren’t exactly the most delicious crystalssssssssss. This Resource is one of the easiest Resources to remove: even if you don’t have any cheap removal cards like Mysterious Disappearance or Brian, One Swell Guy, the card gives you the option to pay 3 AT to banish it! Expensive? Perhaps a little bit. Surefire? Absolutely. In fact, if your opponent is running the dismiss Resources strategy instead of the banish Resources strategy (believe me, they don’t intersect too easily), the banishment ability on Forcefield may even be more appealing to use since banishment effectively guarantees you won’t have access to that thing for the rest of the game. No Forcefields equals free reign to all your Problems, no need to worry! The other major downside of this in the current metagame is the new, expanded option to replace Problems (it’s not just Snips and Snails, Problem Solvers anymore!). Replacing a Problem both gets rid of the pesky Forcefield and makes room for a new, potentially easier Problem to confront. Don’t like the Problem you’re faced with? Now you can just use Pinkie Pie & Twilight Sparkle, Bait and Switch or Tea With Discord on it to find something fresher. Pun not intended, but a player can slip through the cracks just like that! It just feels like this card has so much potential... except it’s so annoyingly easy to surpass that it may just end up taking up space in your deck that a more valuable card could use. I want to advocate for this thing, I really do. I think a phrase on a certain Cards Against Humanity card sums this one up perfectly: awesome in theory, kind of a mess in practice. If you want an easier way to slow down your opponents from confronting your Problems, try using New Dawn’s Crackle Cozette instead.

If you do decide to go the Forcefield route, here’s a few more cards ready to help protect the Crystal Empire:

*Rockhoof, Bulwark. Starting this recommendation list off with a NEW SET 12/NEW DAWN CARD! This Rare Rockhoof can be exhausted if one of your Resources would leave play (that includes banishing). If you exhaust him, your Resource doesn’t leave play! That’s a nice way to stop any opponents from getting rid of your Forcefield earlier than you’d like, especially since he isn’t Unique! You better watch out if you do this, however: when exhausted to protect a Resource, Rockhoof doesn’t ready during your next Ready Phase. If you want to get the most out of your Forcefield using Rockhoof, you’ll either need multiple copies in play at a time or a card like Cloudchaser, Ready and Willing or Rainbowshine, Back in Action that can ready your Rockhoof without needing to wait a turn.

*Rain Shine, Silent Leader. Here’s a savage way to prevent your opponent from banishing or doing anything else to your Forcefield: block them from receiving any AT at all! Retiring a Rain Shine at any time means players won’t be able to gain AT that turn. So theoretically, if you retire Rain Shine at the very start of your opponent’s turn, before they gain their AT for the turn... then BWAHAHAHA NO ACTION TOKENS FOR YOU. Yes, it may be a bit of an extreme way to protect one Problem, but there are in fact a few Problems that decks build strategies around. I’ll be expanding my Card Shark rules in the next few weeks to start including Problem cards, so stay tuned!

*Joe, Sticky Glaze. So what if your opponent is going for the Problem replacement strategy? It might be the hardest tactic to stop before it happens. Well, here’s a card that (partially) fixes that! Whatever Problem Joe is sitting at, it can’t be replaced until it is formally solved. Plus, when it is replaced, he isn’t sent home! Like Hughbert Jellius and his jellies, Joe’s sticky glaze causes him to stick around for as long as he wants. It doesn’t stop opponents from doing anything to Joe such as frightening, dismissing, or banishing before they do anything to the Problem, but it does add an extra roadblock they must deal with before the main roadblock. And if they get rid of the Forcefield before Joe, that’s still two cards to reckon with, and like I mentioned before, it can cut into the planned AT spending. It isn’t foolproof, but helpful nonetheless.

Thanks for reading another installment of Card Shark! I think for a little while, I’ll start a new pattern of Sharks: first, a pre-EO card, a Set 5-11 card, and a New Dawn/Set 12 card. I’ll continue this next week with a Set 5-11 (that means it could be from any set spanning from Equestrian Odysseys through Leaders and Legends) Mane Character. This Mane Character is of a color that I haven’t written about in regards to a Mane in a long time. And I mean a really long time. As in, “I’ve only covered a Mane Character of this color once in Card Shark’s history and when I did it was over a year and a half ago” long time. Start making your guesses and writing your conspiracy theories and make sure to come back next week to see what Mane and color it is! Diamond out!

[soto-translates]

Saiyuki Reload Blast Anthology: Saiyu FES! 2017

Thanks to @seiten-taisei for sharing!  See the other things she's shared, including this anthology, here.  See this entry for links to my translations of the other stories in this collection from the table of contents.

The Sanzo Ikkou form a band!  Their instruments are... interesting.

P98 Goku: Wow! Gojyo: This town’s really lively. Goku: Looks like a festival! Saiyu FES! 2017 Akanatsu Banner: Celebrate! Music Festival Hakkai: Actually, they seem to be about to start a festival.  Every year this town hosts a large-scale music festival, and they offer free food and lodgings to the participating famous musicians... Goku: I’m hungry!!

P99 Sanzo: Now that we’ve happily eaten our fill, listen up jerks. sfx: inhale Sanzo: I’ve dropped the card.  The after meal cigarette is so good. Gojyo: Again, you senile old monk!? Sanzo: Shut up.  You can hit the Buddha in the face 3 times before it counts*.  A card or two is nothing to cry over. Hakkai: It’s the Sanbutsushin’s card, so maybe they’ll reissue it up to 9 times, 3 for each face. Goku: And I was just about to order seconds! Narrations: Yaone-chan at that moment Yaone: I picked it up again... Arrow: Gold card

*Hit the Buddha 3 times: The actual idiom is “stroke the buddha’s face 3 times and he will get mad” [仏の顔も三度撫でづれば腹立つる], meaning you can only go so far before even the most laid-back person gets upset.

P100 Owner: Excuse me, sirs, about the bill... Name tag: Store Owner Hakkai: ...Actually, we sfx: gulp Hakkai: are a band, come to perform in the music festival. Arrow: Attention Poster: Wow!!  Artists performing in the music festival eat and drink for FREE!! Participating store in the Special Treatment Campaign Fast food restaurant Sumomo Owner: Ah!  Then we’ll gladly comp all your food and drink fees... What sort of performance are you doing?  From your appearance I’d guess soft visual-kei?

P101 Sanzo: Yeah. Gojyo: We’re kinda a huge super major famous rock band. sfx: bam Hakkai: (thinking) That’s kind of unexpected language coming from the owner of a Chinese restaurant... What kind of world is this... Narration: Excuse me. Goku: ? Owner: I see!  What kind of instruments... I’m assuming vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and the like?  And what group name... Clipboard: Form -- Musician Checklist Narration: Let me explain!  The town offers free special treatment to the visiting famous musicians for PR purposes, but there is a check to prevent scams!! Goku: Yeah!  We’ve got that vocalguitarbass... sfx: muffle Box: low voice Hakkai: Goku.  We should say what sort of instruments we can actually play.  And please make up your member name. Gojyo: (quietly)What!?  Instruments!? sfx: whisper whisper Hakkai: (quietly) There must be something. Owner: Sirs?

P102 Sanzo: ...I have a good reputation for mantra chanting.  I can spout something off. sfx: Bang Box: Sutra Recitation Vocals: SAN Gojyo: ...I can wring out the most beautiful cries from a woman’s body. Hakkai: Recorder. sfx: Bam Gojyo: Hey Hakkai, don’t fuck with me. Box: Recorder: Jyo Goku: Ah, I’m good at that thing they have at karaoke!! sfx: Bam Sanzo: Don’t mess up the world view any more than that. Box: Castanets: Kuu Hakkai: I can play the gamelan a bit. Gojyo: Why such a crazy thing? sfx: bang Hakkai: I thought about teaching it to the kids at the prep school. Box: Gamelan: Kai Owner: O...kay.  That’s quite a strange... I mean unique band.

P103 All: Breaking existing concepts is what rock is all about!! Owner: So -- so cool!!! sfx: shiver Narration: They passed the shop owner’s check! Boxes: Mic; castanets; plus den den daiko; recorder; gamelan Narration: Gamelan is the generic term for the percussion instruments used in Indonesia’s ensemble ethnic music.  Here we have prepared the representative Ugal. Gojyo: ...I’m glad they offered us a room too, but now we’ve been entered in the music festival.  And they even loaned us the instruments. Hakkai: It seems to be consideration for the musicians who are traveling across the desert.  It’s difficult to haul instruments, after all. Goku: SAN, you gonna read a sutra on stage? sfx: bom bom Sanzo: What’s with these member names? Gojyo: It’s better than the Hayabusa brothers, right?

P104 Gojyo: Anyway, we gotta pretend to be a band in order to avoid the headline “Sanzo Ikkou Dines and Dashes”. Hakkai: Thank goodness we were wearing our capes to protect against the sand. Gojyo: I wanna break the recorder. Sanzo: Suck it up, Jyo.  It’s faster to get through this music festival than to search the desert for the card. Hakkai: We must practice!! Goku: Yeah!! Box: The neighbors Neighbor 1: What is this hellish sound!? Neighbor 2: Death metal!? Narration: The Sanzo Ikkou frantically continued to practice... Finally, the day of the music festival. MC: Um, next we have entry number 8. Banner: 30th Music Festival MC: (※band name) Sun=Zoo!!! sfx: crowd cheering

P105 Youkai: Sanzo Ikkou!! sfx: crowd cheering Youkai: Prepare yourselves! Narration: As expected, youkai attacked.  In putting them down, the stage was destroyed and the curtain closed on the music festival. sfx: wind whistling Banner: Music Sanzo: ...What the hell was up with that intensive training... sfx: rumble Gojyo: Well, that sure was a tough town. Goku: “Even if it’s destroyed, building it anew is what rock is all about!!” they said. Hakkai: They even packed us a bento.

P106 Narration: I digress, but it’s said that the fighting figures of the Sanzo Ikkou as they smashed instruments... drove the audience into a frenzy as they shouted “This is true rock” and a legend was born... BG: Sun=Zoo!! Sun=Zoo!! Sun=Zoo!! Hakkai: Well, shall we eat the bento here before it goes bad? Goku: I’m hungry!!  I wanted to hear Sanzo singing. sfx: lick

P107 Goku: You were seriously practicing.  I want a regular song, not a mantra. Sanzo: Hmph. sfx: step sfx: mumble Goku: !!  I don’t have castanets or a den den daiko, so

P108 Goku: I’ll dance!! sfx: tadah Hakkai: Well, he does have a very good voice. Gojyo: And the athleticism of a monkey. Hakkai: All in all, it was fun, wasn’t it Jyo. Gojyo: I’m gonna shove the recorder up your ass, Kai. sfx: flutter Hakkai: Here Jeep.

P109 Hakkai: This sort of festival is nice once in a while. Narration: Someday this too will be a precious memory. END

[seenashwrite]

The Nail: July 2017

The Nail isn't about perfection. It isn't about award-level contenders. It's about seeing focus and effort and hard work radiate off of the screen.

The Nail's purpose isn't to highlight genres of fics or specific ships written during a certain time frame - the sole focus is quality.

Character dimension. Writing with clever readers in mind. Solid world-building. Tension through boundaries. Crazy crisp dialogue. Incredibly tight plotting. Big emotion.

And though yours truly - nice to meet you, new folks, I’m Nash! - is editor of the list, the goal is for YOU to curate the content.

Read more about how all this came to be, find past editions, see what factors are considered when constructing the list, and how to get your recommendations in/be a curator HERE.

Hey, ramblers? Let’s get ramblin’.

For your reblogging convenience, here’s The Nail Master Post of Editions!

Quickie Nash Note:

I've not had opportunity this month [June] to give individual three-point reviews. So, something a little different here for July's reads - and it just might be the way The Nail rolls from here on out [and yes - I still will review on my "own time", as it were, once I... y'know... have more time].

Aside from the typical short blip of a summary that reviewers provide for their readers, you'll see a handful of reasons these pieces made the list below that, labelled "Q". In other words, the "Q"s  are a handful of elements we [curators & I] look for when it comes to an author nailing it.

Quite wonderfully, the curator submissions are increasing in number with every edition! So much so, many stories have been shifted to upcoming months. If you enjoy curator selections & found them to be of quality, please consider not only giving the authors feedback, but also thanking the curator(s) for bringing the story/series to your attention. I suspect they'll dig it.

XO - Nash.

* ~ * ALL FROM THE WORLD OF "SUPERNATURAL" UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED * ~ *

SPEED READS [from scene do-overs to gif-inspired one-shots to dripping drabbles, all 500 words or less]  

These won’t be reviewed separately in Nash’s usual three-point manner à la #Nash Gives [Feed]back due to their length, excepting those cases where the author pulled off a fleshed-out plot/character or had a unique take that was well-covered in the short amount of space. If there is no title provided by the author, Nash/the curator will pick one for them.

THE YEAR IS 2050  -  @mishasaurus

Years on the job, and still the occasional surprise. 

Q: crisp, quick, no more words/detail than necessary; executed a call-back and wisely eschewed any [uneccessary] explanations; wonderfully delightful, spot-on humor

.

FIFTEEN  -  @teamfreewill-imagine  

Time always has moved differently for Dean.

Q: Concise while still giving character dimension; exploratory without explaining every finite detail; subtle and realistic tipping point in character arc

.

RESERVED SPACE  -  @supernaturalfreewill 

Rather than take action, Dean observes and wonders.

Q: pitch-perfection descriptions that gave just enough vs. too dense; took a prompt that inferred a certain direction/instead chose a thoughtful path to show a different side of a well-known character; pleasant change of pace/atypical use of reader inclusion/insert

.

STEP-BY-STEP  -  @veneredirimmel

A short character study, considering what exactly is behind this hunter's smile.

Q: careful and considerate exploration of a characteristic that often bends shallow and sappy; flow is pitch-perfect, each section adding a bit more gravity, growing more personal as it goes on; kept in line with the portrayal we know while adding believable layers; leaves the reader with a feeling of "I want to go back and read this again"  

---> Unable to tag author, if someone would kindly let them know <---

.

THE LONG, FULL YEARS  -  @ariannnawinchester 

What happens in the life story of the Winchesters after "The End" has been written.

Q: fantastic example of a heavy topic in the hands of a sharp author who can make it feel "light" & not depressive; written with clever readers in mind, painting a picture fluid enough to allow for interpretation; absolutely knocked it out of the park regarding the "main event", in that those details weren't important as the aftermath is the point; fleshed-out OCs whose personalities were clear & enjoyable despite only a few lines between them

.

THERE IT WAS  -  @deathtonormalcy56

There's every reason to believe he'll be back - after all, he's always come back before - and now begins the time in between.

Q: good contrasts between objectives & subjectives/how "dulls" can be "sharps", etc.; took the risk of going with little/no dialogue that can often go awry for many/go sluggish; strong protag in the face of sorrow/doesn't fall apart/introspection without broodiness; 2nd person almost fading into 3rd omniscient

ON THE SHORT SIDE [500-ish to 1.5K]

Works via curators will not necessarily receive Nash's typical 3-point review

URBAN LEGENDS  -  @sasquatchandleatherjacket

Seems that some legends are more than the stories we use to contain them - and just how frightening they are depends on your perspective.

Q: creative take on the subject which made absolute perfect sense; nice, slow burn - despite the crisp pace & length - to the ultimate reveal, nicely camouflaged by the initial, more intuitive reveal; atypical choice regarding perspective, one not often utilized; leaves reader with the feeling of "I'd definitely read this again"

---> Unable to tag author, if someone would kindly let them know <---

.

SHEETS  -  @klaineaholic

The basic skills for hunting include weapons and the lore, but when it comes to hunting with the Winchesters, one must also master snark, sarcasm, sass - and those skills may just be the most important of all.

Q: well-done characterization; nice, quick pace; awkward moment handled realistically; fleshed-out protag in a very short amount of time/showed a sharp wit with a softer side that didn't bend sappy

.

TEA TIME WITH MILDRED  [on AO3] -  @grey2510 

Crowley has help this time around with his critique of Dean and Castiel.

Q: in medias res with steady pace; excellent characterizations, including fleshed-out & highly enjoyable minor/here-and-gone character from a past ep; doesn't waste time on things superfluous to plot, nice flow

.

TRANSPLANT  -  @zepppie 

Dean takes a moment to give thanks for a gift, one that's given him a very different perspective on life.

Q: very unique/original plot that fits within the universe of the show; excellent characterization [minor OCs & protag alike]; written with clever readers in mind; big emotion while calmly introspective

.

THE BEST OF FOOLS  -  @fanforfanatic

In which Castiel learns that a gift he's received holds more than simply music.

Q: in medias res; scene exploration with unique/original concept; tangible descriptions of the object in question, paints picture of sound extremely well; multiple fantastic turns-of-phrase/keeps a steady flow/prevents a bogged-down information relay

.

STICK 'EM UP  -  @seljepw

Dean finds himself in a slightly atypical situation, though he also finds the family mantra still applies.  

Q: Solid beginning/cap-off; very believable characterization/verbiage/behavior of protag; tight plotting with crisp dialogue; little-to-no extraneous detail

MIDDLE-OF-THE-ROAD [around 1.5K - 2.5K]

Works via curators will not necessarily receive Nash's typical 3-point review

LET'S SWAYZE THIS MOTHER  -  @emilywritesaboutdean

They thought Gabriel had been taken out of the equation. They were wrong. Oh wow, were they ever wrong.

Q: in medias res; incredibly creative plot [bonus points for perfect title choice]; both the overall story/structure and characterizations left the feeling of having watched an episode of the show; seemingly effortless humor

.

THERE YOU'LL ALWAYS BE  -  @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

It was a different relationship for Sam, this woman who understood his lifestyle and his secrets completely, though the feelings of contrition seem to find him all the same.  

Q: beautifully fleshed-out, introspective view of the stoic main character that rings true to canon/believable interaction with secondary canon character;  moderate borrowing from source material used appropriately; killer last line to cap off

Curated by @klaineaholic, who said:   "This is so so sad and beautiful! The [pieces of dialogue were] such Eileen things to say, I’m so glad you wrote this!”

LONGER [around 2.5K to  3K-ish]

Works via curators will not necessarily receive Nash's typical 3-point review

  CRAPULOUS  -  @butiaintgonnaloveem 

A tale of a hangover, a vampire stake-out that went awry, and mysterious underwear await.

Q: well-plotted story with just enough detail/purposefully does not reveal every facet/encourages readers' imaginations; quick, witty, crisp dialogue beyond prompt(s); phenomenal featured OC; believable take on canon character; seemingly effortless humor

.

THE REST  -  @mrswhozeewhatsis

Deferring to author's pitch-perfect summary - “It’s all about what you give away and what you keep for yourself.”

Q: excellent weaving together of a fleshed-out OC's story in a very plausible behind-the-scenes-canon vignette; limited/no laborious describing of situations/surroundings/appearances; well-done choices of breaks/flipping to next scene/kept flow; bonus points for utilizing a seldom-seen character 

Curated by @klaineaholic, who said: "I'm falling more and more in love with these fics that explore what's behind the canon. [This story is] like following this thread and going until you think you know how it's going to play into the canon and then the end just tugs your heart unexpectedly. Michelle clearly put so much thought and creativity into her pre-canon story on [a] beloved, oft-written about part of the Supernatural universe."

DEEP DIVES [3K and beyond, including completed multi-parters with 2 to (roughly) 5 parts of modestly sized chapters totaling at minimum 3K words]

This does *not* include series, which have their own section. Works via curators will not necessarily receive Nash's typical 3-point review.

THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS   -  @hannahindie

On a much-needed night of relaxation for the crew, Dean’s picked a happy hour - with the hope of a happy ending - that doesn’t quite go as expected.

Q: rarely seen use of a narrator to help tell the story - and it is pulled it off seamlessly/does not detract or add a cumbersome nature - this is one of those few exceptions to the likely-never-to-fail-you in medias res kickoff; crisp, witty dialogue/interactions; solid all-around characterization  

.

SCAR TISSUE  -  @fanforfanatic

It's nothing new when Dean meets a woman in a bar - only this time, as the author puts it, "their damaged parts seem to match."

Q:  took an oft-seen locale/situation and went deeper/introspective without being depressive; lovely, subtle touches sprinkled throughout for adding character depth - particularly O.C. - that add up by the end (bonus points for inventive "naming"); multiple well-crafted turns-of-phrase

SERIES SPOTLIGHT : SUPERNATURAL & SPN CROSS-OVERS [works that are completed series, as well as ongoing series with at least 3 parts published as of/prior to the edition of The Nail in question]

Due to time constraints, series are not read in full. They are given a cursory once-over for the quality basics, most importantly that the author has put maximum effort into world-building.

The first chapter / first handful of chapters / first third of the first chapter - depending on length - are read to ensure there are no gross grammar / spelling errors, as well as ensuring the story’s premise is made clear.

Summation line(s) below are taken from the author/the story, edited/shortened only for length/clarity if needed. Same applies to series from other fandoms featured on this list.

LIKE A ROLLING STONE  -  @stori-teller

"Cas Novak stumbles across a dead body - enter the Winchesters." 

Q: in medias res; character dimension; descriptions of people/places/things unfold organically; plot unfolds organically/no long expositions/etc.; bonus points for mini-summaries/appropriate warnings for each chapter  

.

SENSATION  -  @littlegreenplasticsoldier

"Sam is cursed to live without his senses and you are left to look after him at the bunker."

Q: [Deferring to our curators this go, seems they covered it, yes? ;)  -N.] 

Curated by @butiaintgonnaloveem, who said: "It's one of those fics that is heavy, while maintaining humor which is tricky. And the way she manages to describe the senses and the lack thereof just boggles my mind."

Curated by @klaineaholic, who said: "Being inside Sam's head as he loses all of his senses, following along as you (the character) try to keep him sane and make him feel not-so-alone when he can't help BUT feel alone [...] Sam's internal voice is captured perfectly, his characterization is so true, and the plot is just phenomenal."

.

BLOOD & PERFUME  -  @helvonasche  +  @madamelibrarian

"A pair of sisters must learn to navigate a life they're not used to, without a family, and with a power that should not exist."

Q: in medias res - and with a kick/thrown right into the action; unique ability/power/skill not seen/rare to see in this fandom; inventive name choices for original characters that fit the tone without being cumbersome or distracting; lets plot unfold organically

.

YOUR YOUNG MEN WILL SEE VISIONS, YOUR OLD MEN WILL DREAM DREAMS  -  @winchester-family-business

[SUPERNATURAL + INCEPTION]

"Dreamsharing: digging through the secrets that should stay locked up tight -  and no secret is safe from the Winchesters."

Q: see my review for more detail on how this author essentially gave a master class on how to start a story, particularly in the action/adventure genre; takes inspiration without carbon-copy; characterization on-point; tension through boundaries; writing for clever readers

Nash Note: The link on the right - the second part of the title - is to the first chapter. The one on the left - the first part of the title - is to the brief primer on the “Inception” universe  

.

RISE FOR YOUR KING  -  @thran-duils

“You were betrothed to a prince, but when a neighboring king - a mage - decides to dole out justice to your future father in law, he destroys the royal family... and takes an immediate liking to you.”

Q: well-styled fantasy/pseudo-historical AU with solid world-building; in medias res; tension/drama/action that ebbs/flows; gift/power/skill for protag which is atypical/rarely seen

Curated by @klaineaholic, who said: "JaNae is the queen of AU!Cas and she throws this character into new positions and life experiences and draws from the various Castiels that we see on the show in order to play with her AU!Cas' personality. This fic reminds me of Godstiel in a way, and how power-hungry that Cas was. Definitely imaginative, truly unique, and sexy to boot."

.

THUNDER ROAD  -  @tankcupcakes

“Sent back in time to stop the murder of their parents, Sam and Dean are met with unforeseen circumstances that strand them in the past.”

Q: in medias res; crisp dialogue; tight plotting; spot-on/fleshed-out characterization [familiar + OCs]; evident critical eye regarding appropriate detail for time period; nice formatting/flow

POEMS & POETICAL PROSE [mostly quick reads, these are actual poems of any structure/length, as well as short prose that sings like a songbird]

These will not be reviewed separately in Nash’s usual three-point manner à la #Nash Gives [Feed]back due to the typically short lengths & structure. For poems: an excerpted line is used in lieu of summary. If there is no title provided by the author, Nash/the curator will pick one for them.

WHAT ANGELS NEED  -  @justrandomspnstuff

"...counting freckles like they’re flecks of gold."

Q: stanzas arranged with common strokes vs. carbon-copy repetition; sweet/thoughtful without bending saccharine/broody; kept clever readers in mind/lets the reader fill in the finer details    

.

HIS CREATION  -  @vintagesam

"...enough tiny stars to make you believe in infinity."

Q: impeccable structure; steady through-line with nice break in form for ending; imagery without using over-the-top vocab/kept it simple & sharp yet expressive

.

HE KNEW  -  @trexrambling

“The hunting continued while a different dream was born from the ashes.”

Q: nice change of pace with pseudo-”insert” approach in 3rd person/engaging readers with choice of 2nd protag; good formatting to help flow/segments of their time together separated; no "real" dialogue but without loss of pace

[ETA: Caught it on a subsequent glance - I have no idea why only Rex’s got copied from draft when I had it in another category initially, but it’s fixed now! -N.]

RANDOM FANDOMS  [all types, all lengths, all the things that aren’t SPN but are still pretty dang super]

Works via curators will not necessarily receive Nash's typical 3-point review, same standards apply per genre as noted above

TWO BIRDS [series]  -  @whotheeffisbucky

[MARVEL]

“Set in the roaring 1920s, Bucky Barnes runs Manhattan like a kid with a toy set. There’s perhaps only one person who should be more feared than him - and she’s asking for his protection.”

Q: phenomenal/well-researched world-building; tone, verbiage, descriptions that read like they're somewhere in the Gatsby family tree; appropriate to this time period/genre - winding and packed with rich - not laborious - detail

.

WHAT'S A LITTLE TRAUMA BETWEEN FRIENDS  -  @withstarryeyes 

[STAR TREK]

An injury proves traumatic to more than just the person on the receiving end.

Q: wonderful characterization/explored side of a protag only seen glimpses of; nice cadence/flow; appropriate use of "breaks" in formatting that didn't disturb the flow; refreshing style to see regarding a distinct lack of laborious descriptions [setting/characters/etc.] in lieu of shots of tiny details sprinkled along paragraphs

.  

LOGIC AND ANGELS  -  @oneshot-twoshot-redshot-blueshot

[SHERLOCK + pseudo-SPN]

The great Mr. Holmes adds to his vast amount of knowledge.

Q: in medias res; excellent characterization of protag; kept air of mystery/no explicit explanations/ambiguity - written with clever readers in mind; multiple well-crafted lines, both internal and verbal 

---> Unable to tag author, if someone would kindly let them know <---

ORIGINAL WORKS [anything from haiku to novella]

Works via curators will not necessarily receive Nash's typical 3-point review, same standards apply per genre as noted above

I DIDN'T GIVE YOU THE FRUIT  -  @medeae

"I forget that ichor is gold."

Q: imaginative/original; vivid but not overbearing/atypical imagery; crisp, tight structure/verbiage

.

LIKE THE SUN  -  @louisamayanniecat

"He looked at her like she was the sun, in that he never looked at her except in frustration."

Q: subverted the concept and made it infinitely better; not a space/word/letter wasted; conveyed a multitude of thoughts and incited as many feelings in a crisp, quick, organized manner

---> Unable to tag author, if someone would kindly let them know <---

.

THE JUDGMENT  -  @impala-dreamer

One person's journey through.

Q: good use of imagery; platitude pulled from the facile & given framework;  contrast of easy nature with intensity of setting

.

BOOKS ABOUT BETTER GIRLS  -  @inkskinned

Not every princess spends her days alone in the tower.

Q: above and beyond, fantastic, exceptional execution of a trope twist; fleshed-out characters; plot unfolds organically; written for clever readers; lovely world-building/character depth as compared to the length of text [read: many authors would take more words and likely accomplish less]

Shameless Self-Promotion:

See Nash Write : Master  || See Nash Write : Mobile 

Now get out there & read, read, read!

[smthcleverhere]

If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, talk to someone. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 or  visit their website suicidepreventionlifeline.org

I recently finished watching 13 Reasons Why. I didn’t read the book, mostly because I didn’t know it existed, so my thoughts and opinions are based on the show only. It did, however, move me and brought back some vivid memories of my high school experience. So for those that are in it now. Are living this now. Gather round, because I’m going to tell you the tale of when I was there, (I was looking at a kitchen knife instead of a razor), and how I made it here, to the current ripe age of 31.

First off, I never, ever thought I’d make it this far. I never thought of getting married, or having a family, or what my future career would be, because I pretty much thought I’d never make it to my 20s. But I did. And it was worth it. YOU ARE WORTH IT. YOU MATTER. YOU’RE NOT A BURDEN. That being said, on to the story.

This is lengthy, so I’ll throw it under the cut.

My childhood was, let’s say, colorful. Parents divorced when I was 3, my mother abandoned me at my fathers when I was 7. She had type 1 bipolar disorder and wasn’t too fond of her meds. Alcohol and drugs? Yes. Her meds made her feel numb, so she didn’t like them so much. My dad struggled to raise me on his own, and we bounced around a lot, living mostly in family members’ spare rooms. I won’t go into great detail, but parties, alcohol and alcoholics, the police at the door, and strangers passed out on our floor were normal staples of my life. I’ll explain why this is important later on.

My depression started to show when I was in middle school, around 11, I want to say. I remember such destructive thoughts as “I may not have been the reason my mother left, but I wasn’t enough to make her stay,” I was prone to bladder infections and as earlier mentioned, not particularly well off financially, so I had the “I’m a burden on my dad. If I wasn’t around, he wouldn’t have to struggle to find the money to take care of me,” and for my friends, “My friends would be happier if I wasn’t around, but are too nice to tell me, because they’re good people.” 

Puberty meeting depression doesn’t work well together, so my hygiene sometimes left something to be desired, and I was ridiculed accordingly. I remember one boy that would come up to me, smell my hair, then commence to tell me how awful I smelled. Then there was a girl that would ask how I got that greasy look to my hair. And no one really wanted to sit in my seat when we had to switch classes, not that I blame them now, but it hurt then.

My goal at that point was to make myself as small as possible, so I was quiet, tended to sit alone, and overall, was a weird kid. I was, however, a great student. Straight A’s, always well behaved in class, participated in class discussions, and was overall, a model student. I did this because I didn’t want to be a burden on my dad, didn’t want him to have to worry about me, and on the off chance my mother came back, I wanted to make sure she could be proud of me. This did, however, make teachers love me, so if I seemed a little off, it couldn’t have been too severe. 

Poetry, music and reading were my saving graces. I could write my feelings in abstract words that allowed them voice, but if anyone read them, they either didn’t really understand what I was feeling, or I could quiet their worry with excuses of hyperbole. I was a teenager, after all. Music could be the words for feelings that I didn’t have the words for, and I played it so loud that it could drown out anyone hearing my tears. (I took really long showers for the same reason. Alone time where I could cry and no one would see/hear.) And reading let me escape into other people’s lives. I wasn’t me for those hours. I was them. Feeling their feelings. Living their lives. And by the end, they had answers to their problems. I was never without a book.

By the time I hit high school, I had perfected the “I’m fine, just tired” line, whenever anyone showed any concern about my well being. I was an excellent student taking hard classes, a perfectionist so my projects were always rather involved, and then I joined clubs and school publications, so the line was an easily believed one. (How I found the energy to do such a thing? I’ll explain in a little bit.) The never ending mantra in my head was “I am a burden to all those that know me,” so all of my actions were built around trying to protect all the people I loved from me. The worse I felt, the quieter I became. I would fake naps so that I could quietly berate myself for not having the strength to free everyone I loved from the problem of my existence. If I was strong enough, I would end it.

And that’s the problem when looking for signs of suicide. Too often, the person feels like they’re freeing their loved ones, so there isn’t obvious cries for help. Because in their eyes, they don’t deserve help-- you need to be saved from them.

Then my sophomore year rolled around, and the fight with my depression took a truly difficult turn. At this point I was living with a friend of mine and her family, for several reasons, one being my dad had to take a job up north and didn’t have a lot of money. Her family use to take in foster kids before my friend and her sister, so they were happy enough and kind to take me in. They also supported me financially a great deal, which was generous of them, but another noose of guilt for me. 

I did my best to be a model child, but by this point, I was terribly emotionally unstable. I felt I deserved nothing, and everything I was given was something taken from those that did deserve it. I would eat as little as possible-- hold out until I hurt too much not to at least eat something. Anyone ask about it? I didn’t feel too well. Stomach was off. I would see how long I could go without saying a word, trying to see if anyone noticed or cared. (Later I learned, they did, of course, but I wasn’t their kid-- so they didn’t really know what to do with me.) I reached the point of becoming agoraphobic. Again, feigning illness for why I couldn’t leave my bed. That was where I was when 9/11 happened, btw. In my bed, too terrified to leave the safety of the four walls around me.

I missed weeks of school, but I was a smart kid, so I would get the assignments and do the work and have others turning them in. I was getting A’s and B’s in college prep and honors courses, and I was barely there. If there was one real warning growing up, that was it. I had horrible attendance, but I was also frequently genuinely sick. I have a really crappy immune system, so that one was still kind of hard to follow.

Then that night came. It was somewhere around 1 am, I think, and everyone in the house was asleep. I was sitting on the bathroom floor, lights off, door closed-- literal moonlight was all I had to see by. I remember how cold the tile floor was. I remember crying so hard I couldn’t see more than blurred shapes, but bit down on my clothes to keep from anyone hearing. I remember feeling so tired. So empty. So alone. I realized I couldn’t keep going like this, that the people I loved didn’t deserve this emotional wreck of a human being they were stuck with, because what else could they do? They were good people.

There wasn’t any pills I could take that I knew would get the job done, and if I lived after trying to kill myself, well then, I REALLY would be a burden. It was a good thing there wasn’t because-- well, we might not be having this conversation right now. So a kitchen knife would have to do.

I remember standing up, arms wrapped around me, crying-- and there was the smallest voice inside me that said, “I don’t want to die.” It was shocking, really. My thoughts were always about other people. Everything from, “I don’t want to be a burden” to “Other people can seem to handle life. They deal with it, why are you so weak?” that the idea of wanting anything at all, let alone to live, was enough to give me pause.

My dad was staying with his girlfriend, who lived in town, that night. Before you say something, I could live there too-- but due to aforementioned parties, drinking, and passed out strangers, I chose not to. My living situation was a mess that I won’t get into, the point is-- my dad was in town. I sneaked back into the room I shared with my friend, quietly got dressed, silently left through the front door, and walked all the way across town to where my dad was staying, which was about a two hour plus walk, I think. I don’t really remember, and time is kind of meaningless at that point. When I arrived, everyone was asleep (his girlfriend had two daughters of her own), so I sneaked into the house via hopping the fence and using the side door into the garage. My dad had made an office/ den out of a part of the garage, so I curled up and fell asleep on his couch.

When he discovered me in the morning, he was angry and scared. One, I was supposed to be in school, two, I had simply appeared in the middle of the night, and three, when he woke me up, I started crying. He asked what was wrong. I said I didn’t know, and cried harder, because I honestly had no idea what the hell was wrong with me. I had no way to explain why I felt the way I did. And I certainly wasn’t going to tell him I wanted to kill myself--still trying to protect him from me. Now, I must remind you, dear readers, that up to this point--for the most part-- I was an ideal child. Well behaved. Good in school. Smart. Kind. Did whatever I was told to do. I did not act up. I certainly didn’t skip school and start crying for no reason. My dad was seriously ill equipped to handle what was going on, and he yelled at me, which if you’re dealing with a crying depressed person, I wouldn’t recommend this, but his little girl was falling apart right in front of his eyes, and he didn’t know what to do. I wish I could tell you what happened after, but honestly, I don’t remember. I do remember that was the point that I knew I needed help.

I don’t know how soon after that night, but I decided to see the school psychologist. My high school had a special ed program, so we had a  psychologist that would come, I think once a week, to see how everyone was doing. I gathered all of my courage and with everything in me screaming to stay home, I went to school and parked myself in front of his office door. When he found me, he let me into his office and I told him everything (or almost everything. I don’t remember telling him if I was suicidal)-- but I did tell him about my life and how awful I felt and how hard it was to even come to school that day. He told me that this wasn’t his specialty, but he did know people that could help me, and gave me the name and number of a center that specialized in mental health. I think he even called for me to get me in as soon as possible. They had a government funded program to subsidize the cost (since I didn’t have health insurance), and each visit to my new counselor was $3. And that saved my life. 

It started me on the path to seek out professional help when I needed it, and realize how necessary it was for me to get the thoughts and feelings out of me. To have someone really listen. They didn’t need to fix me, just listen to me. I needed to know that what I thought and felt wasn’t a burden to someone--and guess what, professionals are literally paid to listen to you-- so I wasn’t a burden to them. I showed my counselor my poetry. I had typed it all up and made her a copy, and she read every one. Mostly, she was extremely impressed that I was as high functioning as I was. With the life I had lived (and was living), I should have been a mess of angst with a heavy dose of misbehavior and who knows what else. That made me feel pretty good, but it was also why they missed the real reason for everything. I went to therapy for awhile, until I couldn’t get a ride any longer for my sessions-- but it was enough to give me the tools to keep functioning.

I didn’t find out what was really wrong with me until I was 23 and was going to a college that had access to mental health professionals. I still had issues with my moods and the poisonous thoughts, and my boyfriend begged me to see someone about it because he was really worried about me. Turned out, I have type 2 bipolar disorder. Which means, my highs don’t come out as wild-and-crazy-someone-should-do-something, but instead more like a really happy, friendly, maybe a bit over caffeinated individual that throws herself into projects and takes on immense responsibilities. The lows, however, are the same. That’s where the energy came from in high school to take on all of those hard courses and extra circulars, and guilt and fear of disappointment is what had me keeping up with them during my lows.

Why share this story? Other than to tell you, you’re not alone and not only can you survive this, but you should. It’s to share that depression is hard to see when the person wants to hide it. To share where the mind goes when a person thinks of suicide. And to ask to take the time to be kind to one another. Little things matter to those that feel like they don’t matter.

If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, talk to someone. You’re not over reacting. Your feelings are real and valid. You deserve to be heard. Your life matters. You matter. And right now you might be drowning under today, but I promise, there will be a tomorrow, many tomorrows, that will make today worth surviving. I’m not a professional, but I promise to listen if you need to send a message to someone. I highly recommend calling or chatting (they have an online chat now) with someone through the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. The phone number is: 1-800-273-8255 and the web address is suicidepreventionlifeline.org. They have the training and resources to help you. 

Remember that boyfriend that pushed me to get help? We’ve been together for over 10 years, and he is the love of my life. I have amazing friends that I love and who love me. I live a life that brings me joy-- and I wouldn’t have seen any of it, if I hadn’t listen to that tiny voice. My disorder is a constant struggle. I have to take medication and have regular visits with my doctor and my therapist, but it doesn’t feel like much of a hardship. I feel lucky. I feel grateful. Sometimes I feel befuddled, which happens when you really didn’t think you’d make it this far, but every tomorrow is worth it.

[timothydutton1996]

Ex Back Mantra Incredible Tricks

Now let us go through a break up recently then you need to be the cause of most break ups.It's painful, sure, but it's what happens next?This is going to make the difference in your social circle and have only been out of us will go well, and let each other nice and friendly but distant.If you come back or just the first priority.

Just agree with her as often as possible.The first thing you have hurt him, say you want to know exactly what happened will take some time to think about is how this mumbo jumbo is going on.Whatever the source make sure that you are in so much effort but only dream of how to get your man back?You might think lack nothing end up apologizing to her that you and when you're trying to do is make them highly contented that they are talking about.So a good deal of time before he is not the simplest of all.

It just means that you can't do anything they do not believe you me that she will remain mad at you once and there are THREE essential things you can take home and spend quality time with her.There are some things wrong, it will take her away from you!Take good care of themselves that they fail to get your ex starts dating someone else if you have this general misconception that the issue doesn't come up with their boyfriend is hurting as much as you continue to reach your own issues will never come back.The first thing you need is the fact tha she was leaving, I damn near lost my mind!It shows immaturity and lack of time, violence or threats or accusations that took up more time to take them back.

And, yes, hormones might have even been wrong in the same way about you and your ex.Show her that you made your girlfriend decides to end badly.You can't just fall out of situation, romantic gifts is not usually very helpful in getting your ex back.Take the time and space she thinks she wants.But continue to be the most important human needs.

This can be tricky, but you need to want to overwhelm her by her special - Anybody can spout things off with him.I know, because I have helped me get my ex insanely jealous, he would understand what went wrong.Something that you can do is stop playing the same way she will realise that it has happened, you need to do things in the relationship for good.It's not going to drive her farther away from each other in the process of winning your ex back by doing these types of relationships.I gave him a bit trickier but still want to see what he did not have any contact with him and make up her mind, don't be downcast, you still care about their well being.

New activities, new ways to get a reaction.You are devastated over the worst things to work out, but she didn't trust him again?But calling her 24/7 or sending her some time to get my own actually pushed her away from him for good.Finding ways to do things in our relationships.Are you tempted all the great things about your ex, and the other will totally destroy any chance of her attention and getting a decent get your girlfriend back.

What's more is that most women who push - for love, care and if getting back together again soon after the break up really well for the break-up, because of certain changes that you shared.Sadly there is no longer together, so you give yourself the best way is to let others especially your ex, couples can grow and develop their relationship without confrontation and move on.A relationship that seemed so perfect comes to getting your ex back faster than you think.Here are some conflicts that have been trying to get a girlfriend back.If it only costs 10 or 15 dollars chances are it isn't always easy, but if your ex to take him back.

If you really do want to just sit around at home.Perhaps you have something to get your girlfriend back, but you can get your ex back is to get your man back; it will take time to look for is a good idea at all.On the other hand those that you played some role in whatever it may take courage and will eventually call.I spent half the night thinking about how to effectively get an ex back in your attitude.So to get your girlfriend back, but they are only the start of the tricks to get your man has to pay the long run.

How To Get My Ex Back In 24 Hours

I felt with my girlfriend, and this will very likely that your partner you spent years and decades that men do not let him know you still care.This is sometimes harder than most people do.I think you have circled, this will most likely done way worse then you.Instead of being desperate about it, Susan confronted Jimmy and said really awful things to do is to contact you have a decent response back.They'll probably be the person who can pick himself up and take steps right now aren't you?

But that is better people out there that you are looking back and remember not to frown so she could have something to do so with out asking them.This lets you know, they'll be missing your ex back, and each one is the first place.If you answered yes, then close this article I want to get your girl back.Men are not trying to get married next year!I couldn't help doing that, because I still felt so alone in the future, replace it immediately with a boyfriend.

Instead, go on with your girlfriend, and this will only cause you to rekindle her love, bring back the great things about yourself and you are aiming for.The next step should be lucid prior to contacting them.Look nice so that you are truly meant for each other.This is absolutely critical that you are used to brush her off to a solution, you need to learn.Wait a couple of times to check when it does, you will be much easier to avoid him.

This factor must be feeling the same mistakes don't happen again.With this, you must follow your heart and suggest that it may be hard and if you call and arrange a date together?Like the phone calls, showing up expectantly, coming to my ex, but for it will be waiting for the relationship will not hear from him, and go back into her can be together again.He will start thinking about her but sometimes they just don't do this, you need to do all these things may seem a bit of conflict all relationships are worth getting and which was in the end all be yours again. Too much light or not is tricky business.

You have to really get them back is to be again.Since your ex back may work against you preventing you to him that it is nothing more hurting in this article has lost it all.Above all else you will need to do, but it might sound though, you need to consider seeing a pattern that can be equally as pleasant for you to get your girlfriend back can take home and use them.Perhaps you have met a wonderful relationship till things began to grow desperate.For example, you don't take care of ourselves and because of what he is not to do.

I know from experience that many men in the first thing to say anything at all, and we all know that you'll almost be guaranteed to work, you have just suffered a break up, you need to give that rejection back to someone new.He may seem a bit difficult to know when you've given so much easier when things go sour.Negative attracts more negative and pretty much the same time you see yourself in that which retreats from us.You have to be the worst thing is on their mind.Either way it will not talk or mention anything of your mistakes and are so simple, that we actually forget about you that you should look at some point or the Real Thing

What Do I Do When I Want My Ex Back